#this took. longer to write than i thought it would woOPS

[meistoshia]

@pnkfox sent: talk about your muse’s most prized possession(s) !!   /   𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬.

all of satoshi’s precious possessions can be divided into two main categories  :     those that he keeps back home in masara town & those that he always carries around.     his most prized possessions are no different.

items kept at home.

the hat he wore throughout kanto + the orange archipelago + johto.     it was, after all, a limited edition cap from the pokemon league, one that satoshi invested a lot of effort into getting   ( sending in a thousand postcards is nothing to scoff at ) , & while he stopped wearing it to not wear it out, he still considers it a treasure & keeps it on a shelf in his room with other precious items.

his z - ring, electric z, & steel z.     his z - ring was given to him by kapu - kokeko & later upgraded by all of the alolan guardian deities, & while he does consider all his z - crystals prized possessions because they were won with his pokemon, his electric z was also given to him by kapu - kokeko, making it more special to him.     his steel z has a special place in his heart for being the one that pikachu picked out when hapu gave them freedom of choice in which z - crystal to take & satoshi left that decision up to pikachu.     these sit on a cupboard with all of his trophies.

his trophy from the exhibition match with kukui.     satoshi’s battle with kukui was special to him for a number of reasons, battling all out against someone he admired, & who’d essentially become like the father figure that he never had, his nyaheat evolving into gaogaen, battling in an official battle with agoyon for the first time, battling kapu - kokeko & going head to head with its z move & winning ...     satoshi’s exhibition match trophy is a tangible proof & reminder of all of these & it is the trophy he is most proud of & it holds a highly special place in his heart.     it sits, of course, with the rest of his trophies.

a pippi doll.     pokeani forgot to give an explanation for why that was in his room but that’s why i’m here ^_^.     it’s lilie’s, given as a “to remember me by” parting gift when she left for her own journey.     it, of course, sits with his trophies.     as far as satoshi's concerned, that’s the only place it deserves to be.

the lunchbox takeshi gave him at the end of johto.     though the contents may be long gone, the box itself has been kept for the memories associated.     takeshi was one of the first people satoshi ever traveled with & the years spent on the road with him are important & special to him, so the first time they truly parted ways felt bitter, but the specialness of takeshi’s parting gift being a lunchbox prepared just for satoshi eased it somehow, & later the utensils within that lunchbox helped satoshi deal with rg, so he kept the box.     it’s kept on the shelf with his league cap.

items he always keeps with him.

the handkerchief kasumi gave him at the end of johto.     just like takeshi, kasumi was one of the first people satoshi traveled with, & he treasures the years she put up with him, unlike takeshi having stuck around for his entire journey from kanto to johto, having met him first as well.     by the end of johto, satoshi wanted to part ways as little as she did, if not less.     he holds onto the handkerchief because it’s not only useful to have on hand, but, of course, it reminds him of kasumi every time he uses it.     there’s not a single more well - cared - for piece of fabric in his backpack.

a kasumi lure.     as a gift from kasumi, of course it’s special to him.     always carried in his bag, he uses it pretty much every time he has need of a lure & just any old lure wouldn’t do.     because it’s special to him, he is a little possessive of it & won’t let anyone else use it.

a broken alarm clock.     hanako went to great lengths, going out of town for days, to get a monster ball themed alarm clock for satoshi’s tenth birthday.     & then satoshi broke it the night before he needed it the most.     that alarm clock is the reason satoshi was late to ookido’s lab & received pikachu & all the subsequent events influenced by this fact happened.     it’s broken & he’s never tried to have it fixed, but he still keeps it in his bag.     it’s a reminder of his mom & of all the love & faith she’s placed in him, a reminder of home & a memento of his beginnings as a trainer, so he’d never think to change it, let alone discard it.

half of an old monster ball.     much like the broken alarm clock, this too is one of his most precious possessions from masara town.     it’s part of a monster ball that both satoshi & shigeru fished out of a river, the hooks of their respective fishing rods catching on it, & one they broke in their little tug of war.     while shigeru may no longer be a competitive trainer, satoshi still considers the split monster ball a reminder of their rivalry, as well as their friendship.     it’s still kept in a little bag in his backpack.

[sapphireclaw]

If you don’t mind me asking, how does the reunion between Ingo and Emmet go?

Time to write a reunion fic woop woop here we go

(Tw for depressing thoughts and a panic attack. This was meant to be more light hearted but oops I made it emotional hurt/comfort. I’ll have to write an alternate version that’s sillier)

AO3 link

That Time Emmet’s Missing Brother Came Back Home After a Month but Turns Out He was Dead the Whole Time (and also he’s like 329 years old now)

Starting today, Ingo had been missing for over a month.

30 days.

They say that the chances of finding a missing person dwindle into slim to none after 48 hours.

It had been 725 hours and 37 minutes since Ingo disappeared from the subway tunnels without a trace.

The search was still going (Emmet was no longer allowed to join the search parties), but he knew that with time people would give up on finding a living man, and reduce the parties to a few individuals and cadaver Stoutlands.

Emmet refused to think about that, though. It had only been a month. A month without Ingo. A month of hell. But Ingo was still out there. He had to be.

Ever since he was forbidden from joining in on the search, Emmet took to lazing around his their apartment. The Battle Subway was closed, and he’d been forced to take leave from work. He felt lethargic and empty with nothing to do. Had been since Ingo never emerged from the tunnels to walk home with Emmet.

That was Emmet’s current state. Draped across the couch in a daze while his Pokémon attempted to get him to eat the food Elesa had brought him yesterday. Elesa’s support was much appreciated, but not always welcomed. Emmet didn’t need a caretaker. Elesa’s efforts would be better off aimed at finding Ingo than taking care of a depressed couch potato.

“Drilll...”

Speaking of potato...

Emmet sighed, lifting his face from the cushions to look over at his and Ingo’s shared Pokémon. Excadrill was standing near Emmet’s head, holding out a cold stuffed potato skin, pinched delicately between his steel claws. How he got into the Pokémon-proofed fridge to get at the leftovers, Emmet had no idea. Still, he couldn’t help but feel touched by the effort.

“Thank you, Wilbur.” Emmet murmured, offering the ground and steel type a weak smile as he took the cold food from him. Wilbur grunted happily, returning Emmet’s smile with one of his own. He seemed pleased with himself as Emmet took a bite of the potato, and soon left his trainer alone to eat.

The food tasted like ash in his mouth.

How pathetic was he? A grown man that couldn’t even eat properly without being babied by his own Pokémon. Not to mention Elesa having to bully him into completing other tasks a human needed in order to function.

Before Emmet could spiral further down such self-depreciating thoughts, there was a faint knocking at his apartment door. He looked up from his food, startled, and stared at the door. Who could possibly be visiting so late at night? Elesa had checked on him just yesterday. The thought of her visiting again so soon grated on his nerves. He didn’t need a babysitter.

The knocking came again, sounding more impatient this time due to Emmet’s inaction.

“I am Emmet, and I don’t feel up to socializing, Elesa. Please depart at once!”

There was a beat of silence, and Emmet could practically feel the hurt he caused. immediately, guilt slammed into him like a speeding bullet train.

Elesa was just trying to help, like any good friend would in his time of hardship. Pushing her away would do nothing but harm their relationship.

Even with the guilt eating at him, Emmet did not take back his words. It was true that he wasn’t in the mood to socialize. As much as he loved his dear friend, Emmet could only take so much in his current state before he risked suffering a shutdown. The only person he wanted to see right now was-

“...Emmet? Can you let me in, please? I don’t have my keys...”

Ingo.

That was Ingo. The voice was quiet, uncharacteristic of his brother, but undoubtedly his.

Emmet moved faster than he ever had before in his life, scrambling off the couch and nearly braining himself on the coffee table as a result. The subway boss practically ran on all fours to the door, never quite regaining his footing but desperate to reach his brother.

There was a split second after he grasped the doorknob and hauled himself up where Emmet suddenly froze. Doubt began to creep up his spine as he stared blankly at the wood inches in front of his face.

What if this was just another dream?

What if this was just another layer to his suffering. Emmet was no stranger to the occasional auditory hallucination, but never before had he experienced one quite as realistic as this. If he opened the door and there was no one standing on the other side, Emmet was sure that he’d break.

Another round of knocking jolted Emmet from his spiral yet again, making his ears ring with how close to the door he was standing.

If this was a hallucination, then it was a verrry convincing one.

Before he could doubt himself further, Emmet twisted the doorknob and thrust open the door. He did not blink as he did so, trusting his eyesight above his hearing at this point.

There in the hallway stood Ingo. Emmet couldn’t help but drink in the sight of his brother.

He looked different. His coat was ragged and torn, and he wore an odd pink garment under it. His face looked like it had aged years in the single month he was gone. Littered with scars and a few stress wrinkles. How verry strange.

Emmet stared at Ingo for what felt like ages while Ingo stared back.

Then, Ingo blinked, and Emmet caught the flash of purple light in his pupils, like the reflective tapetum lucidum of a nocturnal Pokémon.

Ah.

This was not Ingo, then.

An impostor.

A shapeshifting Pokémon playing a cruel trick on a grieving man.

Emmet felt faint, but mustered the strength to slam the door as hard as he could in the trickster’s face before it could cause more damage to his already fragile heart.

Or, at least he tried to.

A worn boot stopped the door from closing all the way, and the Pokémon was quick to wedge half of its body into the crack provided.

“Wait! Wait- wait- wait- Emmet it’s me, it’s Ingo!”

Verrry impressive. It even sounded like Ingo.

Emmet didn’t dignify them with an answer, and instead pressed the entirety of his (albeit slight) weight against the door, hoping the intruder would give up in trying to worm its way into the apartment. The thrashing impostor did eventually retreat back into the hallway, and Emmet was able to close and lock the door triumphantly.

Releasing a shaky breath, the man slowly slid down the wall to sit on the floor. Adrenaline still pumped through Emmet’s veins, and his legs felt like jelly. At least he could now breathe.

It was short-lived, however.

Emmet let out a shriek when a transparent arm suddenly passed through the door right above his head, quickly followed by the rest of the Ingo-lookalike. He could only watch in horror as It pulled itself through the solid wood as if it weren’t there, as if invading Emmet’s sanctuary was the easiest thing in the world.

Scrambling backward, Emmet realized that he didn’t even have time to grab his Xtrans to maybe call for help before the creature was upon him.

The cruel visage of his brother loomed over him, eyes glowing purple and white in the dim light.

“Emmet- Emmet, please calm down. Let me explain.”

Calm down? How could he possibly calm down when he was most definitely about to lose his life. Poor Elesa would surely be the first to find his body in the morning-

“Oh, for the love of Almighty Sinnoh, you’re not dying, Emmet.”

It could even perfectly mimic Ingo’s distinct exasperated tone of voice. How awful.

“I’m not mimicking anything. I am not a zoroark, Emmet. Or a ditto. This is real. Look-“

Emmet flinched when he felt a cold hand grasp his wrist. He chanced a look up at the impostor, and felt his heart ache at the worried look upon their face. It looked just like Ingo did when he was trying to help Emmet down from a panic attack. Concern and love showing clearly in his eyes even if his expression didn’t change...

“That’s it, Emmet.” Ingo the impostor murmured gently, cold fingers rubbing soothing circles against his knuckles. “Just breathe deep for me. You’ll be back on track soon.”

Oh. He actually was having a panic attack, wasn’t he? And this... Pokémon was doing an admittedly amazing job at helping him recover from it.

Emmet closed his eyes. For just a moment he let himself believe that it really was his dear brother comforting him. He had no idea what was in store for him at the hands of this impostor. It wouldn’t hurt to indulge for a second, right?

“You are verrry good at this.” Emmet croaked.

The impostor (Ingpostor, Emmet thought hysterically) snorted a sad little laugh.

“Of course I am. I’ve had plenty of practice. You were a very anxious kid, Emmet. Don’t you remember?”

The familiar voice was a pleasant rumble close to Emmet’s ear. He didn’t even notice Ingo? the impostor get closer. There was now an arm around his shoulders as well as the hand still rubbing circles into Emmet’s skin. It felt so nice. It had been much too long since he’d felt his brother’s soothing presence.

This had to stop before Emmet’s heart broke beyond repair.

“I am Emmet. You are not Ingo.”

He felt the arm around his shoulder tighten, but not uncomfortably so.

“I am. I swear I am, Emmet. I’ll prove it to you, if you’ll let me.”

Hm. That is not what Emmet expected them to say. They were putting their heart and soul into this charade. Why?

“How?” Emmet said instead.

“Like this,” that painfully familiar voice replied.

Then, the impostor began to hum.

It was a tune Emmet knew verrry well.

A Lullaby for Trains.

Their mother used to sing it to them, before she passed away. The song was dear to the two brothers, and they would often sing or hum the tune whenever they were in dire need of comfort. So many nights spent huddled together under the blankets in each other’s arms. Unsure where one twin began and the other ended. All they knew was the soothing melody and the presence of each other.

It was something they shared just between them. Not even Elesa had ever witnessed the twins at their most vulnerable.

Ingo (because it really was Ingo, wasn’t it?) wasn’t even halfway through the song before Emmet burst into tears.

He was on the other in an instant. Ingo felt cold to the touch, but Emmet didn’t care. He wrapped his arms around his brother’s neck and snuggled against his chest as if he were a small child again. Ingo in turn snaked his arms around his twin and gave him a proper hug. Despite the sudden track change, Ingo kept humming the lullaby without stuttering once.

By the time the last few notes floated through the air, Emmet’s breathing was under control, and the implications of the whole situation dawned on him.

“I am Emmet... you... you are Ingo.”

“Mhmm.” Ingo hummed. A pleasant rumble against Emmet’s ear.

The younger twin slowly extracted himself from the embrace, though only enough so that he could look up at his brother’s face.

This time, Ingo didn’t look nearly as weathered. The scars were gone, and so were the wrinkles. His hat and coat were in pristine condition. The pink garment was nowhere to be seen, replaced by the usual crisp white button-up and blue tie. The only thing that remained of the haunted-looking version of his brother he had seen at the door was the odd purple-magenta shine he could still see in Ingo’s eyes. Had he imagined his haggard appearance before?

“What… what happened to you, Ingo?” Emmet hesitantly asked. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer.

Sure enough, Ingo’s frown deepened, and he averted his eyes.

“Ah… the story of my derailment is a long one, full of twists and rough tracks. Are you sure you want to hear it now? You look exhausted, Emmet.” Ingo took in Emmet’s admittedly less than pristine condition with concern.

Emmet did not like that. He felt ashamed of himself for letting his health fall to the wayside while Ingo was missing. He was quick to distract his brother from scrutinizing him further.

“Please, Ingo. I am Emmet and I need to know what happened to you. Full speed ahead, do not hold anything back. I can handle it.”

After all, he’d only been missing for a month. Aside from what turned his brother into… whatever he is now, not many other life altering things could have happened in that time, surely?

He was only gone for a month, after all.

.

.

.

… or not.

Ingo spun his tale like a Galvantula painstakingly weaving its web.

A dark god trapped under the thumb of a madman. His dear brother thrown headlong back in time and space by accident. Losing his memories yet always knowing that someone was missing. Becoming a warden. Meeting another displaced passenger, but without knowing anything other than his new station, did not return with them. Becoming sick and unable to recover. Ingo… dying…

Ingo had to stop his tale and help ground his younger brother before he could spiral into another panic attack.

Ingo had died.

Ingo had died alone hundreds of years and thousands of miles away from his true home.

“That can’t be right.” Emmet croaked, once again clinging desperately to Ingo. “You’re right here, not dead! I’m touching you right now!” He patted his brother’s chest for emphasis. “You couldn’t have died. You’re obviously not some ghost Pokémon!”

There was a long bout of silence. All that could be heard was Emmet’s breathing. Not Ingo’s.

Emmet’s heart dropped to his stomach. He pulled away so he could once again look at his brother, but Ingo was avoiding eye contact.

“Ingo?”

The older twin drew in a shaky breath.

“Giratina felt terribly for having caused my derailment, and prevented my spirit from fading into obscurity. They offered me a gift. An opportunity to see you again.” Ingo turned to meet Emmet’s eyes. His own shining with an unearthly glow.

Ingo took his brother’s hand in his own and slowly brought it up to his chest, where he pressed it against his sternum.

Just as Emmet feared, he felt nothing beating under flesh and bone. Only an odd sort of humming. It was almost electrical. It was most certainly not a heartbeat.

Ingo was quick to explain further.

“I am what Giratina calls a Distortion Ghost. An inhuman being made of antimatter. This was the only way I could see you again, Emmet.” Ingo’s grip on his hand tightened, and Emmet could feel him shaking, “My memories had just returned to their proper station. I had to get back to you. I couldn’t bear the thought of you never knowing what became of me. I waited centuries to see you again. I know I’m not human, I know my existence is unfathomable and terrible, but I’m still me, Emmet. I promise I’m still your brother. Please believe me.”

Emmet realized with a start that Ingo was crying when a drop of glowing magenta liquid landed on his hand where it was still pressed against his brother’s chest. He looked up at Ingo’s face, heart breaking at the terrified look in his eyes. Eyes that were leaking a luminescent substance in place of tears. Ingo was trembling, and he unconsciously pressed Emmet’s hand harder against his sternum.

Oh.

Oh no.

Ingo thought Emmet was afraid of him. He was scared that Emmet might not accept him as he was now.

That wouldn’t do.

Emmet splayed his fingers against Ingo’s chest, feeling that strange thrumming energy just beneath the surface. With a deliberating hum, he gave his brother’s chest a couple of firm pats before drawing his hand away. Ingo released the grip he had on Emmet’s wrist easily enough, staring over Emmet’s shoulder instead of directly into his eyes. His whole expression screamed trepidation.

“I am Emmet. You are Ingo.”

He said it with such finality that Ingo met his gaze again, eyes wide.

“We are a two-car train, you and I. Nothing in this world or the next will change that. I may not understand what all this-“ Emmet gave Ingo’s chest a firm poke, “entails, but know that I will be with you through it all. Because I am Emmet, and you are Ingo, and I would love you with all my heart even if you were a walking, talking patrat.”

With that blunt declaration, it was Ingo’s turn to burst into tears.

Emmet simply held his brother as he shook and sobbed against him in a reverse of their positions just a few minutes earlier.

How lonely, how daunting it must’ve been, Emmet thought sadly, to have to wander the earth for centuries in a new and terrifying state, waiting for the day he could reconnect with his other half.

Well. Hopefully now that they were coupled once again, they could help each other come to terms with their new situation. Godly interference or no, Emmet was just happy to have Ingo back.

It didn’t matter that he had no heartbeat. It didn’t matter that his eyes glowed. It didn’t matter that he cried strange purple tears. New state of being aside, this was still undoubtedly Ingo. Here in his arms again.

And that’s all Emmet could have asked for.

[owls-den]

"Chip On My Shoulder" - Chapter 01

THE FIRST CHAPTER FOR MY TRIP AS POKEMON COORDINATOR/MUSICAL ACTOR FANFICTION IS FINALLY OUT!!! WOOP WOOP!!

❝ After losing so close to his goal, Trip is left at a loss at what to do with his life. His rivals are moving on with theirs, so why can't he? Questioning the very reason he has gone on this journey in the first place, he does not suspect that a seemingly innocuous step into the world of musical theater will have such an impact on his future, bringing him closer to people he once shunned. ❞

This took... forever. I kept second guessing myself and how to write it but it's finally there!!... Now for the second chapter... ueueueue

It has Legally Blonde spoilers, like I'm describing a LOT of the musical, so please do go watch it if you haven't and don't wanna get spoiled. It's a pretty cool musical either way :DD

Thanks to @mangoberri for the beta reading :))

The chapter is also available on here JUST under the cut if you don't want to go on AO3!

Take back the books and pack up the clothes Clear out the room and drop off the key Leave with what's left of my dignity Get in the car and just go Chalk it all up to experience They said I'd fail but I disagreed Who could say then where my path would lead...

A dull sound accompanied Serperior's fall on the battlefield, sounding a verdict Trip pained to believe.

He had lost. He had finally reached the Vertress Conference, the whole point of his journey, and he had lost.

And as if it was not humiliating enough, he fell at the very first turn; a humbling experience.

Cheers echoed around him, so loud, overwhelming his senses... And in the center of this attention stood a victorious Ash, hugging his Pikachu with a glee none could rival.

A glee he envied.

The other trainer walked up to him to shake hands enthusiastically, complimenting him on a fight well fought. But, was it? Was this the grandiose battle he really had been awaiting? A repeat of their first match? Or perhaps Ash simply enjoyed it because it was Trip he was facing, an encounter which only rarely occurred on their respective journey - which was due to Trip's habit of deliberately avoiding the carefree Kantonese. He came to regret it as, for all its brevity, on that battlefield, he had felt alive like never before, their rivalry invigorating him with feelings he could only explain as exhilarating. If he had to lose to anyone, he was glad that at least, it had been to him, as underwhelming this ultimate face off turned out to be... He smiled bittersweetly and returned the grip firmly. A shame he was to discover an appreciation for fighting his rival so late in their respective journey. 

Trip left the arena swiftly after his defeat, not wanting to linger any longer than necessary. He had no one to cheer for, nor did he desire to. Despite leaving Ash on amicable ground, losing never got any easier. He couldn't help being disappointed that he never got to fight him with his full team. It could have been a battle that he would have remembered fondly. One where losing would have felt somewhat acceptable. Or he could have even won, proving to everyone his strength and faced Alder in an epic match and... 

His grip tightened around one of his folded shirts, shaking the slightest bit, emotions he dared not show, even to himself, threatening to spill at any moment. 

What was he thinking… this had been pathetic. If that was the extent of his resolve, did he even deserve to call himself a pokemon trainer? 

Trip took a deep shallow breath, using it to find the strength to shove the cloth back in his bag. He slung it across his chest and barely checked the pristine room he did not have the opportunity to sleep in even once. He barely registered going downstairs to return the key at the hotel's reception before leaving.

His thoughts were deafening on the train leading to Nimbasa. The small rocking of the cart failed to ground or soothe him. It all just felt like a mirage. In the end, had it been worth it? He had been so focused on his goal to prove himself to Alder and... Well, he supposed in a way he had succeeded in that aspect but where did that leave him? What was he to do now?

He looked up from the crimson rubber flooring. Other trainers who had suffered from the same fate were crowded there. He spotted more than one with the very same expression he was sporting, depicting a deep feeling of loss and disbelief. Others seemed to take it in stride, joking good naturedly that their opponent deserved to win either way. He wished he could be this optimistic, but that ship had sailed long ago. Sobs attracted his gaze to a group of youngsters, their parents attempting to console them, their soft reassurances lost in the hubbub trapped within the cabin. 

He frowned and checked his Xtranceiver almost mechanically, sighing quietly seeing no messages were received for the duration of the competition. What was he expecting? A message of any kind? An acknowledgement of how far he'd gone? He should know better by now but it seemed he'd never learn. He let his eyes unfocus on the flowing background, letting the deep dreary alloy orange hue of the sun set on his weary thoughts. 

It was too early that the voice of the announcer crackled to life, letting him know that they grew nearer to the Nimbasa City battle subway. Passengers clutched onto bars in anticipation for the stop. Trip gathered his meager belongings, verifying he had not left anything behind as the vehicle slowed to a crawl in a terrible shrieking sound. Once the train finally settled, he got up, following countless other nameless figures out of the car. Just as the last time he visited, the station was full of incessant chatter, announcements over loudspeakers, poorly chosen radio stations and the unbearable smell of aged spilled coffee. He wrinkled his nose at that last one, eyeing a cup with a melted label crushed on the brick flooring, without a doubt rendered like this after a stampede of impatient passengers. He supposed he could find solace in at least one person having a worse day than his.

Hands in his pockets, Trip marched towards the ticket dispenser, just as crowded as any other part of the rail station. The subway bosses must have been quite busy in this season, fighting rejects from the Pokemon League. He himself wouldn't have minded some training here, after all he never did take the time to partake in this activity and he heard Ingo and Emmet were as strong, if not stronger, than some gym leaders. Not that it was a very high bar to pass, if you asked him. He entertained the idea for a bit. Some easy fights could soothe his bruised ego. Trip looked over to the terminal, considering participating.

Two girls were hounding it, giggling while they were choosing which train to hop on. They were taking forever, manicured hands hovering over the "Confirm" button but never actively pressing it, too busy they were fawning over whichever topic he had not cared to grasp.

Alright, so no battle subway for today then.

He looked around for another terminal but it would seem to be the only one around. Grand.

"In case you have not noticed, there is a line." he said, loud enough for the bitterness to seep through his words.

The girls squeaked and turned around to glare at him. One of them promptly apologized, although it felt quite insincere, and quietly told her friend to quickly pick one. He thanked the local deities when they finally did and walked away, pointedly ignoring the other muttering colorful insults his way. 

At long last, he stepped to the machine and input his destination. No trains were serving directly to Nuvema so he settled for Accumula. An additional bus drive would not kill him. He did feel disappointed when he noticed the next train would arrive in nearly three hours. Not necessarily surprising, considering the scarcity of the trains serving there, but disappointing all the same. He scanned his subway card and the ticket sprung out of the distributor in a flash. He took it and double checked the time and where it would arrive. He was reading it over when he noticed, something falling in his line of sight. Lying on the floor, exiting the machine, was a ticket around the same size as the one he was holding. Did he accidentally reserve two? Trip bent down, picked it up and flipped it, inspecting the thin cardboard. These girls must have left it behind by accident or something. It was a bright magenta ticket with printed black lettering. A ticket for a performance called "Legally Blonde". He knew they seemed airheaded but who in their right mind would just abandon a ticket for a play at the Music Hall? He heard in passing that they could be quite expensive.

Trip decided to do his one good deed of the day and headed towards the main desk. Perhaps they'd come back looking for it and he honestly did not want them to assume he stole it or encourage some other nonsensical conclusions. The lady tending it was apparently too busy pinning back her bun while wrestling with the chord of her earbuds to notice him standing right there. He bit back the want to make a snide remark about her diligence at work and instead cleared his throat. Her hand stopped fiddling with her hair, one earbud falling out of her ear (letting him hear her, frankly, outrageous music tastes. Could these screams really be called 'music'?!) as her eyes lazily traveled in his direction. She, at least, straightened up although, to his dismay, he suspected it had less to do with her professionalism and more with his shorter stature.

"Yes, hello, how may I help you?"

He extended the ticket towards her without any further ceremony. She awkwardly stared at it. 

"I found this at the ticket dispenser. I assume it might have been left behind by the people before me." he explained as plainly as he possibly could. 

She seemed puzzled for a second, tilting her head ever so slightly to the side, her hair already undoing itself with the faint movement. Finally, as he started to think she was going to ignore him in favor of grooming herself, she took the pink ticket and inspected it front and back, her eyebrows furrowing as she read the title.

"Where exactly did you get it, again?" 

Just his luck that he had to run into a daft individual who could not be bothered to listen to basic inquiries. He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, willing himself to be patient.

"As I have stated, I got it at the ticket dispenser." his voice sounded strained, failing to disguise his frustration. 

The woman looked at it once again, seemingly concentrating the little reasoning functions she possessed on this one task, then, coming to a conclusion, she pushed back the ticket towards him. "Then it must be yours then!" 

How did she even land this job? Didn't you need the barest of listening comprehension or even common sense for that matter to work in this field? Maybe he should recommend this place to Bianca, her short attention span seemed like a standard here. Trip pinched the bridge of his nose for a second. A sigh mixed with a condescending chuckle readily crawled its way out of his throat. 

"No, surely not, unless the ticket dispenser in this very establishment has started to print expensive Music Hall tickets alongside train-"

"Yes, it is part of our culture advertising campaign, would you like to learn more about it?" she interrupted sweetly, although he could sense a tension in her voice, not unlike his own.

That was... Not what he had expected. He bit the inside of his cheek before inquiring any further.

"Culture advertising campaign?" 

"Yes. Youths under the age of twenty-five are offered by multiple services, on occasion, tickets to visit different locations to broaden their cultural landscape. It can be a visit to a museum, to a historical site, to an art gallery or, in this case, to a theater. Which one is received depends on the location in which you have bought your ticket, so to make it more accessible. We usually provide tickets relying on the time of arrival of your train as a distraction." her words were said in a fake, rehearsed cheery voice, as if she had been forced to repeat this exact speech one time too many. She mechanically gave him a flier and slipped the magenta ticket in the fold. He gingerly accepted it without a word. A stock photo of smiling and laughing people surrounded by the blandest scenery he had ever seen was on the first page, a bright yellow logo he did not recognize at the top. He pocketed it but had every intention to throw it away at the nearest bin. Noticing she was still looking at him expectedly, he simply gave an awkward nod in her direction and left as promptly as possible.

The light briefly blinded him before revealing the overactive city of Nimbasa. It was always moving, running, never asleep. The city of entertainment had always been one he did not care much for. On his pokemon journey, his visit to the city had been brief to participate in the local tournament (that he lost just as fast, perhaps he should have noticed that pattern by now). The gym challenge did not leave him with much time for leisure so he pretty much overlooked Nimbasa altogether. He could only remember a vague time when he had gone to the local theme park with his parents. He had been a child then, enjoying the different rides... He gazed longingly a second too long at the ferris-wheel, visible from across the city. 

Trip slipped his hands in the pockets of his dress pants and started walking, feeling the flier, now warm against his hand. Right, he had to get rid of that. His feet led him to a small natural park, a space tucked away from the screaming neons, finding an odd sense of relaxation enhanced by the scent of freshly budding poppies and the coolness provided by the water fountain. Few people were present, basking in the calm this haven provided, the trees' branches doing a decent job at hiding the overwhelming presence of the bustling city surrounding them. Wild Pidove gathered next to the coveted trash can, picking at abandoned pokemon food scattered about by careless individuals. Trip got out the folded sheet of paper and threw it unceremoniously in the bin. A frustrated sigh escaped him when he noticed this blasted ticket slither away once more, falling smoothly onto the dirt. 

"... You've got to be kidding me..." he muttered while picking it up once more. Prepared to rectify the situation and dispose of it, he couldn't help but let his eyes notice the time on it. The play was to start in thirty minutes and would, apparently, end some time before his train was to arrive. 

For the first time since he accidentally received this invitation of sorts, he considered it. Trip did not have much to do before his train arrived and he feared that if he was to be alone with his thoughts again for three additional hours, his anxiety might poison his mind with 'what ifs' and 'what could have beens'. It was actually this last point that made him decide to walk away from the park, startling the eating pokemons, ticket firmly in hand.

The moment he found himself right in front of the theater and its needlessly blinding neons, Trip knew he should have just stuck to the park. He furrowed his brows and his eyes traveled back to the offending piece of paper in his hand. "Legally Blonde" was to start in less than ten minutes.

It was now or never.

With a barely contained sigh, he entered through the automatic doors. Eccentric looking folks were inside, looking at posters that surprised him in their variety. He refused to look at them for too long, even though some of their composition was somewhat interesting to him. 

Trip wanted this torture to be cut as short as possible, thank you very much. 

He handed his ticket, now somewhat covered in dirt, to the finely dressed middle aged man in charge of checking these. The older gentleman readjusted his glasses somewhat, his face betraying some surprise; be it at the state of the piece of paper or its affiliated musical. Trip didn't know which one to assume but it was enough for a feeling of self-consciousness to rise within him. He surely looked very out of place here. He really should have checked on his Xtranceiver first what the synopsis was, it would have spared him some embarrassment. What if it was an outrageous performance? Arceus, what did he sign up for?!

Trip turned his face to the side, hiding his reddening face behind his bangs, as the man gave the ticket back to him along with a small booklet, absolutely clueless to the shame the young man was experiencing. He uttered a barely audible “thank you” and walked away, feeling his face heating up the more he saw teenage girls accumulate at the entrance alongside him. By the time he found a seat, he was wondering what he even was doing there in the first place, sandwiched between two different groups of youngsters who were obnoxiously loud. He even managed to spot, in his boredom, the two girls that had been hogging the ticket dispenser.

What a time to be alive.

Trip sat awkwardly on the, admittedly cozy, seat. A shame that the leg room really left to be desired. As short as he was, his entire height was stored in his legs, stripping him of the one perk of being under 5'3. He shifted a little, trying to find a comfortable spot on the chair, which earned him whines from the people around him, as insignificant his movements were. He ignored them, satisfied to have found the one position that would, hopefully, not leave him all cramped up for the duration of this play. He finally turned his attention to the small book he had received. That must have been the program. The cover was most likely a monochrome rendition of the promotional poster, representing a woman holding gigantic books with the title placated on it.

Trip was starting to wonder why every musical poster had to state in their name "the musical". Seemed quite redundant to him. 

The one saving grace of this cover was the Lillipup next to the ecstatic woman. Maybe one of these Pokemon Musicals he had heard of. He opened it, hoping to distract himself from the overwhelming chatter surrounding him and to find out what this play had in store for him. The first few pages had nothing he found relevant, mostly the names of actors, producers and other stage hands he had never heard about. And by the first few pages, he meant the entirety of the booklet. It was full of small blurbs of information about the people behind the show, who they were, what they did... He kept hoping the next page would have a piece of information he would care about but, alas, the only relevant one he could find was the name of the numbers. Not exactly helpful but at least he could gather from the titles that the "Legally" in "Legally Blonde" was somehow related to the judicial system while the "Blonde" part could easily explain the more... Oddly named ones. He frowned at some of them when, finally, the light started to dim on the public. He disposed of the booklet, putting it in his pocket, while every single teenager around him childishly shushed each other loudly. The shushes suddenly got replaced by the loudest applause and cheers he had ever heard the moment the music started to soar up on stage. He supposed it was customary to do so at the start of a show and just clapped awkwardly. The light on stage was slowly turning on, finally uncovering a pink cartoonish building... So far, very on brand. He crossed his arms, sinking into the seat, bracing himself for the longest two hours of his life.

The first singers finally appeared at the windows. He watched the stage intently, eyes slightly narrowed. So far, from what he could gather, the supposed protagonist, Elle, was awaiting her fiancé's proposal and-

"Ohmigod, ohmigod you guys!" 

Was it too late to get up and leave? Apparently so since the people sandwiching him only glared at him when he politely gestured for them to move. Trip crossed his arms once more, now pouting and furrowing his brows.

He begrudgingly kept watching - after all, what else was he to do - and his eyes actually opened wide at one of the early quick changes. Obviously, the character was played by two actors sliding down the bar, it was quite obvious since their build did not match, but he had to recognize that this could have easily fooled anyone else. 

The brief respite he got was when the Lilipup on the poster actually ran up on stage. He had to recognize the pokemon had been very well trained and did not miss any cues. So far, this little guy was his favorite actor in the whole show.

The main character finally appeared, and went to get ready for the proposal and... honestly, he couldn't care less at this point. He watched, absolutely not taking in any of the information at his disposal. At least the Lilipup was still there. He hoped this little one would go far in his career.

At long last, the first number ended. He let out a sigh of relief. This had felt like it took an eternity to complete... The two main characters started making out and he couldn't help feeling slightly disgusted. The moment they sat at the dinner table - surrounded by a decor that was simple yet effective, he could admit as much - he just knew another long and uninteresting number was to start. He groaned when he was proven right, once more, and the most classic of love songs, sung with as many riffs as possible, filled the theater. His grip tightened around his jacket. 

This was bordering on torture. Were people really watching this and enjoying it? It was just... So generic. Perhaps he just wasn't the target audience; he never really understood romance or its appeal. The only entertainment value really came from the girl and some small gestures she'd do in the back. This was getting incredibly boring still. No one would notice if he rested his eyes, right?  

"That's why you and I!!" 

He closed them and leaned back in his seat-

"Should break up!" 

He reopened them violently, as shocked by that line as the protagonist was. This... Well he took back what he had just thought about "predictability", this came right out of left field! The man tried to explain it away, about how he could not be successful without someone "serious" and, while Trip could not totally disagree with that notion, the dejected look of the actress made him pause. The scene faded, his interest peaking back despite his better judgement. 

This unpredictability did not go away. He kept trying to guess where the plot would go, or how a song would end without much success. Maybe he should have seen coming the foolish plan Elle made up about joining Harvard just to see her ex but he was entirely blindsided by the progression of the song, the way Harvard's aesthetic clashed with hers and the moment he witnessed her burst into the office, backed by a group of cheerleaders, he just didn't know what to think about this musical anymore. It was absolutely overwhelming how energetic every single scene ended up being. By the time she was accepted in, he decided he would stop thinking, lay back, relax and do his best to "enjoy" the show. 

There were a lot of things he was left confused about. Like, why was this hairstylist so taken with the concept of Galar? What was up with this chorus showing up in the middle? Were these actors actually jumping rope while singing? Yet, despite all of these questions floating inside his head, he started... Appreciating the craftsmanship behind the show. It was very well put together and he was enjoying the dynamic between the characters; especially between Emmet and Elle. He also couldn't stop the smile on his face when a Snubbull came on stage during the middle of the first act! He had heard of pokemons acting in musicals before but he had not thought this one would include them; let alone two! Truth be told, he was getting slightly impressed with a lot of aspects of this show: most songs ended up being very enjoyable and the various props and techniques they used to achieve practical effects on stage worked wonders. Their transitions from one scene to another were so smooth with their decor that he felt completely immersed, forgetting for an instant the strangers' presence. Not that he was invested, mind you! Not at all! This was still a dumb show for teenage girls, he could just appreciate the work that had been put into it, that was all! 

He was not getting invested.

"No he didn't just...!" Trip gasped audibly alongside his peers.

He was getting invested. 

The trial scene had made a smile creep onto his face with how extra it was, although he supposed this entire show could be called that (especially considering the number that had taken place right before said trial; a number which had made him question how it would be relevant when it came back to slap him in the face, somehow becoming a plot point). The scene post trial however was full of tension he tried to ignore as his instinct couldn't possibly be right. Something was amiss but he was in blissful denial... The show had always proven itself to be full of surprise and perhaps, this one was the biggest in its obviousness. He had not even realized he had spoken his thoughts out loud, instead readjusting himself in his chair, a hand half covering his lips. 

Then, for the first time in this entire outlandish experience, the music slowed to a crawl, shaping itself into a ballad. The one and only number in the show to be devoid of energy and positivity; just like the protagonist in that very instant, thrown out from the place where she felt like she belonged. 

As he was listening, his throat felt like it was caving onto itself. Emotions he had been pushing down the entire day clawed their way up, destroying the careful walls he had built to keep them at bay, to not express them in a public space. He dug his fingers into the armchair, the smallest of sobs breaking through. Trip fought the urge to cover his mouth to muffle the pathetic sound that managed to get out. This feeling of not belonging anymore, having to leave some place you called home, a profession where you were talented in, the years you took honing your skills... He had never thought he would hear a song that would resonate with him on such a level. Just a couple hours prior, he had been Elle, having to leave and put on a brave front when really, the very act was killing him. At least, she had Emmet, someone who loved her, begged her to stay... Would things have turned out differently if he had had someone like that?

... No. 

Maybe Ash had been his Emmet, his chance of staying, of looking back, but just like Elle, he had denied him, accepting that it had not been up to him. Just because he yearned to go back on the battlefield did not mean he could. 

His fate had been sealed the very moment his Serperior had fallen. 

Or maybe it had been when Ash had been declared his opponent, by the cruel hand of fate... 

Or maybe it had been when they first met and he insulted him to his face.

He didn't know anymore nor did he wish to know. It was gone and it would not come back.

But the musical was far from over. It should not end on such a bitter note, he supposed. All of her previous rivals and friends came together, to tell her to come back as who she truly was to save the day... And she did! Despite the pain, she bounced right back and used her odd pieces of knowledge as a weapon to find out the true culprit! She became the major of her promotion, rejected the man she had been chasing, realizing her true love was someone who respected her and that she respected right back... Everyone got their satisfying happy ending... And was it true? Could everyone really get back up from such a humiliating loss and grasp at this hope? Was it possible that he too could find a drive, the strength to show the world who he really was and achieve his ambitions? Or was this only possible in an idealistic world, neatly written for people to disconnect from the mourn reality? 

The music was at its peak when everyone started applauding, the lights on stage now gone. He did the same, clapping frantically at one of the best performances he had seen in years, when the light came back on the public, the actors running back on stage for their bow… and... it started occuring to him that he had just spent two hours, almost straight, watching a stupid musical along hundreds of strangers, letting himself get emotionally invested to the point of showing his pitiful feelings for everyone to see. He could feel his eyes still being a little puffy from earlier. He felt... Ashamed to have cried in front of others, even if they had not been looking. He refused to get out the small fabric handkerchief he had in his pocket, although it would have helped get rid of the last evidences of his emotional outburst. Instead, he got up, not caring that other spectators threw dirty looks at him.

Trip just needed to get out of there.

His legs almost hurt after such a long time confined in the small space between the seats but it did not stop him from striding across the theater to get some fresh air. He took a deep breath outside, the smell of gasoline flooding his senses, grappling him back to reality. The change of scenery almost felt uncanny after being immersed in the play for so long. Trip stayed there for some time, unmoving, recollecting himself. He checked his Xtranceiver, without thinking, realizing his train would leave in under an hour. He stashed his hands in the pockets of his dress pants and started his mindless walk back towards the Nimbasa Battle Subway.

If his eyes were still slightly red, he could blame it on the never ending fumes of the exhaust pipes.

[mothwingwritings]

Halcyon Days Part.1

Yeah this took a looooot longer than I had planned for it too and I apologize. It also ended up BEING a lot longer than I intended it too so it’s actually going to have a second part. WOOPS! :D Here is my Josuke X f!reader yandere fic presented humbly too you. Diamond is Unbreakable is my second fav JJBA arc so I wanted to try my hand at something with one of my fav Joestars. J I always kind of envisioned Josuke as a delusional yandere, someone who can be extremely sweet and doting one moment and then completely unhinged the next. Low key he would be menacing as hell.

This fic is inspired loosely off an actual date I went on once LOL. Unfortunately the person in question I went on said date with was not nearly as charming as Josuke, but they also weren’t hella scary. J

I hope you all enjoy! Sorry if Josuke seems a lil OOC, still getting the hang of this whole yandere writing thing~

Warnings: gas lighting, yandere, toxic relationship, manipulation, violence, strong language, Josuke acting like a rude asshole.

(I kind of rushed through the editing, so I sorry for that as well.)

Part Two is HERE!

This date was going to be the last one.

You sat alone in the stall, leg bouncing anxiously as you waited for his arrival. It was getting late, the sky long since going dark. It was an odd hour for a date, but the sooner you got this off your chest the better. You specifically picked this restaurant on the edge of town because it was 24hr and there was a large chance that you didn’t know anyone there. You knew if you saw even one mutual acquaintance you might not have the courage to break it off with Josuke.

As you lazily stirred the diminishing ice in your drink, you let your mind wander to the man in question. Just two years ago, you were completely new to Morioh. You thought it was cruel, your parents forcing you to up and re-root your last years of high school, leaving all the friends and memories you cultivated through the years of your childhood behind. You were bitter, sad, and increasingly lonely starting off your time at your new school. Adding to the fact that you were already a fairly shy person made loosening up and making new friends a bit of an issue.

Then Josuke started talking to you.

In the beginning it unnerved you. Josuke was confident, cool, extremely attractive, and had a definite bad boy vibe to him that made him stand out in a crowd. You were on high alert the first few times he approached you, worried that maybe he was coming to bully the new girl, or gathering information to feed the school gossip scene. However, your view of him shifted when you began to note that he would daily go out of his way to say hi to you, his continual pleasant demeanor with you going against the stereotype of him you had created in your head. After some time, you began to drop your guard in his presence. Hellos became morning conversations, which became walking to classes together. Soon you were invited to eat lunch with him and his friends (who then by extension, became your friends). He started to walk you home each day, and on your days off he would invite you over to his house to hang out or show you cool places around town. Within a few months you had gained your spark back, fully assimilating into your new town. In this time frame, your feelings for Josuke grew, blossoming into something deeper than friendship. Every time his hand brushed yours, or his face lit up upon seeing you, your heart would hammer in your chest, stomach sent somersaulting. You were delighted to find out the feeling was mutual, and by the time he had asked you to be his steady girlfriend, you were on cloud nine.

For months things were perfect. Josuke was an attentive and kind boyfriend, always taking you out on cute, thoughtful dates to all your favorite places, lavishing you in romance. It wasn’t uncommon that you would come into class each day and there would be a small gift on your desk with a little love note from Josuke,  and even if your classes weren’t nearby, he’d always make sure to be waiting outside your homeroom to walk you to your next destination. He always looked at you like you were the most beautiful girl in the world, and would constantly remark on how clever and funny you were. He wasn’t afraid of getting handsy in public, but was always respectful of you and never made you uncomfortable. Sometimes you felt as if you didn’t even deserve him.

But as time wore on, some complaints began to trickle in from your friends. They felt Josuke was taking up too much of your time and were upset that whenever they wanted you to spend time with them, Josuke had seemed to beat them to the punch. He took priority in all your decision making and time management, leaving your friends in the dust. You took this to heart and promised to devote more time to them. You loved your boyfriend, but you loved your friends just as well, and you were sure there would be no problem in spending just a few odd days with them over him, right?

He didn’t take the news as expected. The pain that radiated from his voice when he responded with, “If that’s what you want, do whatever makes you happy,” sat like a heavy weight in your stomach the entire time you were with your friends. You couldn’t focus on the conversations you were having, or the movie you went to see, or the shopping trip you were on with his dejected words bouncing around your brain.

The guilt only got worse when you would finally arrive home. Making a beeline to your phone, you typed in Josuke’s number at a break neck speed.

He sounded far away as he answered and did nothing to mask the disdain in his voice as he asked about your ‘date’.  Your enthusiasm over sharing the details of you day rapidly dwindled as every sentence spoken was met with either silence or a curt reply. After several prods and pleads from you to tell him what was wrong, he finally caved with a heavy sigh.

“It isn’t you babe, it’ just that I had something really special planned today. I’m upset those girls took that from us.”

This was just the start of hearing something ‘wasn’t your fault’, only to have the guilt of spending time with someone other than him pressed upon you.

Every free moment you had at school, Josuke was there waiting for you. If you happened to be approached by a friend, he would cut them off, weaseling you away from them. If you tried to reach out to them, he would distract you in any way he could to direct your attentions back his way.

You felt like a fraying rope in the thralls of a fierce tug of war battle.

To make matters worse, in the midst of this, strange things started to occur to the people around you. One by one everybody in your friend group (all those not also friends with Josuke, that is) had unfortunate events befall them.

One friend had her bicycle destroyed. It was the same bike she had spent so long saving up for, the bike she was proud of and loved above all other possessions, and it was utterly decimated at some point in the night.

Another had her room totally ransacked, many of her belongings totally destroyed beyond repair. The police couldn’t figure out why the rest of the house was untouched or what even spurred the break in to begin with since nothing was stolen, just torn apart.

One of your friends had threatening notes written to every member of their family, none of which ended up being traced to any culprit, and another ended up in a suspicious accident leaving them with an overnight stay at the hospital.

Once one person was targeted, it wasn’t long before the next person faced a misfortune. Your friends would worriedly remark on being “shoved” or “tripped” even though no one was around them at the time. You would try and laugh at off at first, making cheesy ghost or curse jokes, but it was becoming harder and harder to ignore.

You didn’t want to think the worst, but it had become hard to ignore. The only people being targeted were your friends. The only one of the group that had yet to be affected had become you.

Things finally came to a head one night when a boy you had been partnered with on a school project was going to come over to your house to finish the last leg of the assignment. At this point Josuke had become overbearing, nearly every aspect of your life was being catalogued by him. You knew hiding this rendezvous would be pointless.

You brought it up casually to him, because to you it was no big deal. The boy in question was one of your class reps, Takashi. He was a kind, popular, studious guy who was by all accounts harmless. In fact you were quite happy to receive him as a partner, as he was so easy to talk to and was one of the best performing students academically in your grade. Josuke, however, took it differently. At the mention of you bringing another man home, his whole demeanor changed.

The first true fight you ever had with Josuke began at this moment. You’ll never forget the cold look in his eyes and the firm tone of his voice as he demanded you never speak to or about Takashi again.

Shaken, you took a deep breath. Why was Josuke acting like this? He knew this classmate, was even friendly with him. Did he not trust you? You had never been anything but loyal, so if that was the case, you couldn’t help but begin to feel a bit testy.

You turned away from your boyfriend, afraid if you made direct eye contact you wouldn’t be able to keep your cool. You busied yourself with something nearby and as calmly as you could, you explained that you had to work with him. It was for an important grade, but he had nothing to be concerned about beyond that. It was just a school project, nothing more.

If you had been looking his way you would have seen it. The dangerous gleam in his eyes, the deep set frown engraved on his lips, and the way his fists were squeezed so tight they nearly drew blood.

Your body jolted when his fist slammed the wall beside your head, your eyes widening as his large form caged you in entirely.

“Look at me (name),” his breath was hot on your neck, his voice wavering with a veiled malice. Slowly, you turned towards him. You felt so impossibly small with his arms around you, like a mouse being cornered by a cat.

“There’s my pretty baby,” Josuke’s voice evened and his eyes softened, his expression becoming eerily benign as his free hand traveled to your cheek to cup it gently.

“I know you only have the purest intentions here. It’s not you I don’t trust.”

His frown returned.

“But I know how a man thinks, what a man wants when he goes to a beautiful, innocent girls houses for ‘school projects’,” he grip on your cheek tightened, pinching your soft skin, “As soon as the door closes to your bed room he’ll be on you like a fucking animal.”

You looked at him incredulously, “Josuke, do you hear yourself? He’s my class rep, my parents will be home, and he has a girlfriend-“

In a blink his lips smashed roughly into yours, effectively cutting you off the conversation. Defined arms pulled you tighter, constricting you against his body. You gasped as his tongue forced its way into your mouth, dominating and sloppy. You felt like a doll in his grip, being handled and guided at his will. You were completely overwhelmed, overpowered, and at his mercy.

After he broke the kiss, his eyes bore into yours. A dream like haze obscured their normal brilliance, causing a cold chill to creep up your spine. He spoke in just above a whisper, his words coming out as more a chant than a sentence.

“You are stunning, (name). Brilliant. Too many people want you so they can corrupt that. But I will protect you. I will protect what is mine.”

That night even though you got a phone call as confirmation that your classmate was on his way to your house, he never ended up arriving. Concerned, you called his home several times, and each time it rang until voicemail. At around midnight you decided to give up, calling it night. But his wordless absence was eating at you, and the feeling of dread that gave you you couldn’t shake.

After a fruitless attempt at sleep, you grabbed the phone, keying in the number you had memorized by heart. You pressed the receiver firmly to your ear, hoping it would quell the shaking of your hand.

“Higashikata residence,” Josuke’s voice greeted you. You swallowed thickly. It wasn’t unnatural for Josuke to still be up so late, but were you just imaging the edge you heard to his voice?

“...Hello,” he repeated after a few moments of silence, “Is someone there? Okuyasu, I swear if this is-“

“Josuke,” You finally croaked out, “it’s me.”

“(Name),” he beamed, his smile coming through in his voice, “Hey baby! It’s good to hear your voice, even if mom did shoot daggers at me for taking a call so late. Once she hears it’s from you, I’m sure she will forgive me. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to check in,” you spoke, praying the uncertainty of where this conversation was going didn’t reflect in your voice, “How has your night been?”

A chuckle reverberated through the phone. Usually it was a noise that brought you joy, but this time it almost felt as if he were laughing at you, “Check in, huh? Shouldn’t I be the one doing that with you, what with what’s-his-face coming over to your house and all,” you could hear the dour shift in his voice, “He didn’t just leave did he? There’s no way he could have dragged school work out until this late.”

You were happy he breached the subject before you, it made the process that much easier.

“He’s not here,” you gripped the phone tighter, “He actually never showed up.”

“Oh, guess I had nothing to worry about then!”

The nonchalance in his voice troubled you, “it’s weird though, isn’t it? He knew tonight was the night we were meeting up, even confirmed it with me by calling me to let me know he was coming. He also is aware this is a big chunk of our grade. He’s not the kind of person that just wouldn’t show up without-“

“As I said before, I don’t think you know what ‘kind of guy’ he actually is, (name),” Josuke cut you off, the sharp cut of his words putting you further on edge, “ I know he’s got that squeaky good guy image going on, but you don’t see the look in his eyes when you turn away from him. You don’t hear the things he tells in graphic detail to his boys when you walk by.”

“Josuke… He wouldn’t do that. He’s never acted that way towards me…” Your voice got smaller.

He sighed incredulously, “(Name) listen, I know you don’t want to think about people in that way, but trust me. The guy is a sleaze ball. It’s a godsend he didn’t make it to your house tonight.”

“Josuke I really don’t-“

You jolted in response to Josuke’s screaming voice “I’m done going over this, (name). The guy is an ass who has no right being in your presence, let alone working with you in your home! You just need to get that through your head. I’m tired of fucking talking about him!”

Up to this point, Josuke had never yelled at you in this manner. The uneasiness that settled over you had now made you a total wreck. Tears stung your eyes and words were caught in your throat. After a moment of silence, you took a deep breath.

“Josuke,” you did your best to hold back to your shaky sobs, but it was too little avail, “Why… Why are you acting like this?”

“Baby,” you heard him coo, his voice switching back to the loving boyfriend you knew him to be, “I’m so sorry, please don’t cry! I know it’s a lot, learning these things about people you thought were friends. Actually, now that I think about it, you’ve had the misfortune for being at the end of a lot of false friendships, huh?”

You hiccupped a bit, unable to form a coherent sentence in response. How could he be so belligerent one moment, and so sweet the next? It gave you whiplash.

“But don’t worry, that’s why I’m here (name),” he continued, “To protect you, and see the things you may not see yourself. You are the most special person to me, (name). You are beautiful and bright in ways I can’t wrap my brain around… It’s only natural people would want to take advantage of you and hurt you.”

“J-Josuke,” you croaked out, concerned with the path the conversation had taken. He no longer seemed as if he were speaking with you, instead it were as if he was affirming something to himself.

“And I won’t let that happen. I will never let that happen.”

A chill ran through your body. Unsure of how to respond, you stayed silent.

“So don’t cry anymore baby, I got you.  I’ll make sure nobody’s ever a problem for you again.”

The next day, Takashi didn’t show up to class. As someone who had used no previous sick days, this caused a bit of a stir. By his second day of absence, rumors had started that something bad had happened to him, something serious. Tensions rose as none of his friends could seem to get ahold of him, his girlfriend being engulfed by her posse of friends as they fretted over her in the hallway, her watery eyes sometimes looking your way for answers. By the third day, the rumors were confirmed when his parents reached out to the school, alerting them that their son had been violently attacked on his way to a classmates house.  He was alive, but in horrible shape. He was in a coma, his body so bloodied he was barely recognizable.  The doctors didn’t know when or if he would wake up. And if he did, they had no idea how cognitive he would be.

From that point on, you were viewed as cursed by the entire school populace.  It was no secret that he was en route to your house on the night of the accident, and even when the investigations around the incident cleared your name entirely of any wrong doing, people remained hesitant to approach you. Conversations hushed when you approached. People would get up and move if you sat near. Eyes would look your way, then immediately dart away of you turned their way. There was something about you, something about how everyone was driven away or hurt in your vicinity, it made people uncomfortable.

It made them scared.

Your friends would sometimes shoot you looks, pity mingling with dismay in their eyes. You could tell they wanted to talk to you, wanted to be your lifeline, and God if you didn’t share the same sentiment.  You wanted nothing more than to run up to them and fall into their arms, seek comfort in their kindness. What you wouldn’t give to tell them that you were frightened, that you felt trapped.

But if you did that Josuke would know, and what if what happened to your class rep happened to them?

Of course Josuke was cleared of all doubt in the attack as well, the night it happened he was confirmed to be home all night by his mother. The authorities were quick to move on from him. He could be a punk, but he was the grandson of one of their own. He would never do something like this.

And you wanted desperately to believe your boyfriend was incapable of this as well. Sure he was strong, a bit on the rough side, but anyone that really knew him knew him as lovable goofball, a mama’s boy, someone who would do anything for a friend. But you couldn’t’ deny that the way he was acting the day your classmate disappeared, mixed with his nonchalance at hearing what had become of him, was unsettling.

Even with Josuke’s name being officially cleared, you couldn’t stop the cold dread that would grip you whenever you let your mind wander to that night. Josuke knew Takashi was coming over, and having spent his entire life in Morioh, he would know the hidden places attacks could be carried out away from prying eyes. Josuke could have done it, made it seem like a horrible accident or a random attack. It wasn’t’ so long ago that a serial killer was walking the streets of your peaceful town, it would seem like maybe they had returned. It would divert attentions away from anyone at the school. And if he did it once, what would stop him from doing it again?

But if Josuke did have a hand in this and you chose to remain at his side, would you be able to live with yourself?

---

Before you knew it your high school career was drawing to a close. The only people left you could openly talk to were Josuke and his group of friends. Even then, if you tried to reach out to any of them individually, you always managed to get intercepted by Josuke. But you guess it really didn’t matter, on the rare chance you did get to talk to anyone alone you couldn’t seem to get your true emotions across to them, or they would brush you off. Josuke loved you. He protected you. After all the bizarre drama that had happened in the past months, he was the only one still steadfastly by your side! Any thoughts you had otherwise were just residual fears lingering, side effects from everything you had been through.

You felt like you were going crazy.

And so your relationship sat, teetering on the edge of toxicity and paranoia up through your final days of highschool, through the dwindling days of summer, into the present where you sat now.

You had long since decided to break it off with Josuke, but it was much easier said than done. The love you held for him in your heart was still there (albeit much less intensely than it was at the get go) and you felt melancholic thinking about what could have been, what the two of you could have become if things had been different. Josuke was your first for so many things, and you earnestly hoped he could have been your forever.

But his evasive nature in conversations, the iron clad grip he has on your social life, the constant barrage of questions and phone calls while you are away from him even the smallest amount of time, and then the varying degree of verbal scolding’s you would get if you happened to interact with anyone Josuke didn’t approve of…. It wasn’t healthy. The joy you once had towards any relationship you had in your life was now a mere shadow of what they once were.

You wanted your life back.

“Hey pretty girl, mind if I sit here?”

You jumped in surprise at the familiar voice, your head whipping up to see Josuke leaning above you, an enamored grin spread wide across his lips. He was always so genuinely pleased to see you that despite it all, it still made your heart skip a beat. You diverted your eyes, afraid if you looked too long your courage to break it off would disintegrate.

He chuckled, pressing a firm kiss to the crown of your head, “Oops, did I startle you? Sorry baby doll.”

He went to the seat opposite of you, falling into it in an exasperated huff. It was then you noticed his disheveled appearance. The crumpled shirt, his uneven breathing, even his normally immaculate hair had a few strands out of place. He noticed your eyes roam his form and a rosy hue lit up his cheeks, running his hand over his hair in a futile attempt to straighten himself out.

“Oh, uh, I must look like a mess, huh,” he laughed a bit in embarrassment, “Sorry about that, I was running a bit late because I bumped into Koichi and that bastard Rohan and they held me up. Once I saw how late it had gotten I booked it here,” his eye locked with yours, “I’m sorry, it’s scummy of me to not only make you wait but also to come looking like a disaster, especially when you are looking damn gorgeous. But then again, that is your default state.”

He finished with a coy wink, instant heat rising to your cheeks. Even a bit out of sorts Josuke looked nothing short of incredibly handsome lounging across from you. The sleepy smile on his lips, warm glow in his eyes, and unabashed compliments did little to help your resolve.

“It’s no big deal,” you tried to sound cool, grabbing the menu in front of you to shift your focus off of him, “I wasn’t waiting too long, and I know how you can get around Rohan.”

You smiled a bit when you saw him with hold a groan at the mention of the artist, before you continued.

“I also appreciate the compliment, but I’m just rocking average attire myself, so don’t worry about a wrinkled shirt on my behalf.”

He smirked deviously, a twinkle in his eyes, “Don’t be so modest on my behalf (name). You could be in a burlap sack and still draw every eye in the room,” his voice dropped a bit, “Though I’d prefer only my eyes on you, and you dressed in a lot less. Does that pretty red shade you are trying to hide on your cheeks extending to any other part of your body, I wonder…?”

He purred his last words, his foot gently bumping yours under the table. Feeling yourself grow ever redder, you lifted the menu up higher, suddenly becoming engrossed in it. Your heart only started to calm down when he was fully blocked from your site.

“Josuke stop,” you cleared you throat a bit, trying to sound more in control then you felt, “we are in public.”

“What’s it matter,” you heard him say before two fingers gripped the top of your menu, gently yanking it from your grasp so that you were once again face to face with him, “I’m the luckiest guy to have you as my girl, and I don’t care who the hell sees it. In fact, I’d be pissed if someone looked this way and didn’t immediately recognize that you are mine. We don’t want anyone getting any funny ideas now, do we?”

“Josuke…”

Before you could say more, he sighed, a disgruntled look overtaking his features as his eyes scanned the small restaurant.

“Though now that you mention the public, it is a bit crowded here, isn’t it? Couldn’t they have put us in a more private booth? It bugs me that all these people are around.”

Confused, your eyes also passed over the restaurant. Other than yourself and Josuke, there was only three other parties, the largest of which was a family of four, none of them directly near you and none of them even remotely keyed in on your existence.

You laughed in amusement, “Josuke there is practically no one here. I think we will be OK.”

He pouted, his eyes once again turning to the ‘crowd’, a dark gleam in them this time.

“I just don’t see why the waitress couldn’t have sat you somewhere else. You probably told her you were waiting for your boyfriend and everything and she still sat you near all these jerks. There is no privacy at all.”

Your laugh turned to a frown, “I think that’s a little unfair, Josuke. Yeah she sat me here, but it’s late and it looks like she is the only one on shift so she probably wants all her tables near each other. It’s really no problem at all, especially if it makes it easier to help us, you know?”

He opened his mouth to retort when, as if summoned by the conversation, the waitress came bustling over.

“I am so sorry,” the girl (who was around your age, if not a bit younger) began, bowing a bit as she focused her attentions on you and Josuke, a friendly smile on her lips, “I didn’t realize your company had finally shown up quite yet or I would have hustled over faster!”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” you smiled back in return, noticing the irritable expression that befell Josuke’s feature, “He just arrived, he hasn’t even looked at the menu yet.”

“Ah I see,” she nodded, “he slipped by me when I wasn’t looking! Well sir, if you haven’t had time to look things over I can start you off with a drink and give you some time to browse?”

“Don’t need that,” he responded curtly, waving his hand in a dismissive manner at the girl, “Just get me a soda, I guess. The atmosphere of this restaurant doesn’t really put me in the mood for eating.”

You shot him a warning look, gently kicking his leg under the table. He didn’t respond, averting his eyes from both you and the waitress.

“Don’t mind him,” you piped up when you realized Josuke wouldn’t apologize on his own, “he’s just in a grumpy mood from someone he was dealing with before, he didn’t mean it.”

“Oh, um, I see. But regardless I apologize sir,” the waitress replied, looking crestfallen as she scribbled in her notebook, “I will make sure to get your drink out quickly and appreciate your patience. Is there anything else I can get for you, miss?”

Still feeling troubled over how he spoke to her, you smiled in response.

“Actually yes, I was eying a few of the dessert options, but couldn’t decide on one because they all looked good,” You responded sheepishly, “I was wondering if you could recommend your favorite?”

Lightening up considerably, she returned your smile, “Well they are all good, but I highly recommend the carrot cake. It’s my all-time favorite.”

“Carrot cake it is then,” you replied, closing the menus swiftly and handing it back to her.

She took it with a smile before bouncing off to her next task.

“Josuke what the hell was that?!” You grumbled, roughly jabbing him with your foot.

“What,” he responded defensively, “I wasn’t lying, I really didn’t want anything.”

“OK, but did you have to be a jerk about it?”

His eyes glazed for a moment at your comment, a look you had become accustomed to seeing as a warning to end that line of conversation immediately.

“I wasn’t being a jerk, I was just-“

“Here we are,” the cheerful voice of the waitress intervened, “One soda and one carrot cake!”

As she was placing the food in front of you, her eyes fell to your hands and her expression lit up.

“Oh how pretty, I love the color!” She commented, pointing to your freshly painted nails.

“Thank you,” you responded, holding your hand up so you could better appraise your work, “I know it’s not perfect, but I did pretty decently not causing a mess this time.”

She chuckled, “I hear you, I always struggle when it comes time to paint my hand that isn’t dominant. But that shade is incredible, where did you get it?”

Your smile deepened, pleased to be having such a casual conversation with someone that was in no way linked to the man across from you, “I actually just purchased it a few days ago from the drug store down the street. They had plenty in stock, you should get one.”

“I know what I am doing on my next day off, “she beamed, shooting you a wink, “You guys enjoy, and thanks for the info!”

Before the waitress even had time to fully leave the area and the glow from the pleasant interaction was still alight in your eyes, Josuke made sure that his displeasure was shown.

“I thought she was never going to shut the fuck up, damn.” He groaned louder than was necessary, his glare sharp on the waitresses back, “Do they only hire idiots here? They post ads saying ‘dumbasses who don’t know how to keep their mouths shut only’ apply?”

You noticed the waitress falter for a moment, before ducking her head and picking up her pace to leave the area. When she rounded a corner, you swore you saw some tears trickling down her cheek.

Mortified, you wanted to go off on Josuke. Right then and there you were ready to end it, dump what was remaining of your soda in his face and book it out of that restaurant. You wanted to hop in your car, drive away and move on. This cruel man… Whoever Josuke had become, he was no longer the bright eyed sweetheart you fell in love with.

And yet, you found yourself unable to respond, let alone move. You couldn’t explain it, but an intense presence seemed to suddenly fill the booth you occupied, suffocating you in what felt like a strong embrace. Phantom limbs snaked around you, gripping you so fiercely you felt like you might burst.

Your eyes traveled down to your body searching for answers as to what was happening, however there was nothing to see but you yourself. Then why did your chest feel so heavy? What was causing your breathing to be so strained? Why could you not move your arms??? Completely unnerved, you began to panic.

“Josuke?” You questioned, your voice coming out meek under the strain on your body.

As if snapped out of a daze his attention immediately pivoted your way. The strange weight on your body lifted once he did so, freedom once more coming to your limbs. You let out a shaky sigh, stretching out your arms a bit as a test of your mobility. What had just happened?

“What is it, baby,” he asked with concern, leaning over the counter a bit more to inspect you, “You feeling OK?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Do you want to leave? You look pale, fresh air should help, being in this stuffy shack of a restaurant probably caused you to feel sick. I think it’s time we ditch this place, don’t you? I know of a place around here that’s a great place to take a load off. I’ve been meaning to show it to you, and it looks like the perfect opportunity has presented itself. ”

Smirk on his lips, he rested his head in his palm as his piercing gaze lingered on you, “Not many people go out that way, and at this time of night it will definitely just be us. Sounds perfect, right babe?”

Eager to get out of the now completely soured environment of the restaurant, you nodded hurriedly, only half listening to what Josuke was saying. “Yeah, that sounds good. Let’s go.”

His smirk grew.

“That’s my girl.”

[kpoppwriter]

Retrouvaille

❧ Genre: Childhood Friend!Yuta x fem!reader

❧ Words: 3.8k+

❧ Synopsis: You never wanted to leave him in the first place but maybe leaving this time is the right thing to do for your sake.

❧ A/N: woop woop here it is finally! Ratatouille is here everyone lmaoooo. it took me 10 days to write but yeah I’m not used to working on one fic for this long (except series obvi). The other fic Ukiyo is going to take a bit longer as there’s a lot I have left to write with that one   

~※ Main Masterlist ※~

The air was cool, not too cold that you needed a jacket however. The slight breeze danced over your skin giving you goosebumps. A few stray cherry blossom petals fell onto the sidewalk. You picked one up. It was so smooth and delicate. You admired the petal before shoving it into your pocket. You continued to walk down the street towards your house. 

“Y/N!” 

You turned around at the sound of your name. A smile spread across your lips as you saw Yuta running to catch up with you. He stopped in front of you hitting your shoulder playfully.

“You didn’t wait for me!” he pouted 

“You were taking forever,” you quipped, “Plus, I have to be home on time today.” 

“Oooh did you get in trouble or something?”

“No, I’m not like you, Yuta.”

You stuck your tongue out at him and ran a bit ahead of him so he couldn’t hit you again. He just shook his head at you in mock anger. The two of you continued to walk home. You told him about the funny joke one of your classmates said and he told you about the newest gossip in the lunchroom. You eventually stopped in front of your house. 

“If ya need me, you know where to find me!” 

Yuta waved at you as he walked to the house next door. He unlocked the door and stepped inside. You were so happy your best friend was also your neighbor. You sighed contently as you walked into your own home.

“We’re moving?!”

“Your father got a promotion so we have to move back to the States,” your mother explained, “This wasn’t a permeant living situation, honey.”

“What about school and my friends? What about..” you could feel a lump forming in your throat, “What about Yuta?”

“You’ll make new friends at your new school. You were always so good at making friends,” your father reassured you

“I don’t want new friends! I want to stay here!”

You got up from the table and ran up to your room. Tears were streaming down your face. You fell onto your bed, your face buried into a pillow. You let out your sobs, too overcome with anger and sadness to stop them. You heard a light tapping on your window pulling you from your thoughts. You wiped your eyes as you looked over to the window. There on the small bit of roof under your window sat Yuta, his face full of confusion and sadness. You got up and opened the window.

“I told you not to jump to my window,” you sniffled

“Why’re you crying?” he asked ignoring your scolding

You opened your mouth to tell him but you couldn’t get the words out. You didn’t want them to be true. Instead of telling him, you grabbed his arm and pulled him into your room. You wrapped your arms around his torso tightly, your face buried into his chest. Yuta said nothing. He hugged your back, his hand gently petting your head. He let you cry some more into his chest, not worried about the tear stains you were leaving on his shirt. He waited until your cries turned into sniffles before he asked you what was going on.

“I’m leaving,” you whispered

“Leaving?” he stared at you, “What do you mean leaving?”

“My family’s moving back to the States.”

“You just moved here a few years ago! How can you go back already?”

“My dad got a promotion,” you wiped your eyes, “I don’t have a choice, Yuta. It’s already settled.”

Yuta said nothing. He just held you tighter like you’’d disappear in front of his eyes if he let you go. 

You watched your parents packed up the luggage and extra boxes into the rental car from the window. You had your backpack on and your own luggage beside you. You rolled it out to the curb. You tried to look at every little detail around you so you’d have the most perfect mental image of this place you called home for so long. You never wanted to forget a single detail. Your eyes locked onto Yuta, who had been sitting outside on the curb in front of his house. He looked over at you and sent you a sad smile. You walked over and plopped down next to him. 

“So this is it,” he whispered 

“Yeah I guess it is,” you sighed

You stared at each other, unsure of what to say now. Something popped into your mind. You quickly pulled off your backpack and began searching through it.

“Hold on.”

You pulled out a yellow and pink woven bracelet. You took his wrist and tied the bracelet around it. He studied the woven thread around his wrist.

“I made that for you,” you said, “And I made myself a matching one.”

You showed him your wrist with the same bracelet on it. He smiled widely.

“Now you can’t forget about me. I’m struck to you.”

“Thank you,” he giggled, “I won’t ever take it off.”

“You better not Nakamoto,” you narrowed your eyes at him, “I will come back here and beat you up if you do.”

You father called out for you from the car. You and Yuta stood up, exchanging one last hug before you left. It lasted a little longer than normal hugs but you weren’t complaining. You walked back to the car, peaking over your shoulder to see if Yuta was watching. He was watching with tears in his eyes. You got in the car and drove off leaving the home you once knew behind you. 

You threw your duffle bag in the corner of the dance studio. You inspected the room, this dance studio was new to you. You had just moved to Korea from the States to work as a dance instructor for kpop idols. You were honored at the opportunity but felt like you were a bit in over your head. You’ve never worked with such big clients before. You just sighed, knowing you’d be fine once you got over the initial nerves.

You were digging around in your bag when you heard the studio door open. You turned around and saw a man bowing politely at you. You returned the gesture. He put down his own bag off by the wall then began to stretch. You couldn’t help staring at the man, his handsome face and amazing physic was making you a bit flustered. Your eyes moved from his face down to his arms. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt so you were able to see his arms in full. You noticed something around his wrist, a small bracelet that looked worn and almost colorless. You could see the faint colors, a simple yellow and pink design. Your eyes went wide. Yellow and pink bracelet...

“Hey,” you pointed at the man’s wrist, “Where did you get that?” 

He looked at you, his expression laced with confusion. He followed your finger to his wrist, smiling when he realized what you were looking at.

“It was a gift from a childhood friend,” he reminisced, “They were someone i really cared about. I promised I wouldn’t take it off.”

“Or they’d beat you up.”

You pulled up your sleeve, exposing your own frayed bracelet with the exact same design as his. The man stood up quickly and grabbed your wrist.

“Y/N?” 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug. His arms wrapped tightly around you and he lifted you off the ground. He gently placed you back on the ground, pulling away to look at you properly.

“It’s been a while, Yuta,” you smiled widely 

“It’s been too long, Y/N.”

You finished up the dance practice a little earlier than expected, the boys of NCT 127 picking up the choreography rather quickly. They bowed at you as they each took their leave. You grabbed your water from your duffle bag, taking a drink while you packed it up. You picked up your bag and left the dance studio. Waiting outside, leaning up against the wall in front of the door, was Yuta. 

“Y/N,” he approached you, “You doing anything now?”

“I was going to get some lunch.”

“Perfect.”

He grabbed your wrist and started pulling you towards the entrance of the SM building. You tried to wriggle out of his grasp while laughing. When you got outside, you got your wrist out of his grip. 

“What are you doing?” you laughed

“Taking you to lunch,” he smiled 

You happily enjoyed your lunch with Yuta, using the time alone together to catch up. It had been years since you saw each other so there was much to catch up on. You ended up going to lunch the next day as well...and the day after that. Going to lunch after practice became a normal thing for the two of you. You slowly began to learn and relearn everything about your long lost friend. You were so happy to have him back in your life. 

You spent your weekdays rehearsing and teaching choreographies to NCT. your weekends however were your free days but even on your free days you spent time with the boys and of course with Yuta. All the time you spent with Yuta started to have a different effect on you though, an effect you didn’t expect. You were becoming so close again but this time was different. You didn’t just see him as a friend anymore. You thought there could be more to your relationship. You had caught feelings for him. Of course, you refused to let your budding feelings change your friendship. You didn’t want to deal with the rejection if you did tell him you had feelings for him. Instead, you kept it all bottled up.    

You were at the dorms hanging out with some of the members. They were having a movie day and invited you over. You were curled up on the couch with a blanket, Yuta also curled up beside you. You all were waiting to start the movie, Taeil and Jungwoo still in the kitchen preparing the snacks.  

“Did you guys hear about the event SM is having?” Doyoung said as he walked into the dorm living room

“Yeah, we all got an invite,” Taeyong clarified

“Who’s going?” 

Even though you had just starting working for SM, you also got an invite to this event. Of course if the boys were going to go, you’d be there too. It would be good to get to know other people beside NCT.  

“I am,” you spoke up

“I’ll go too then,” Yuta smiled at you 

You were thankful someone else started speaking as a pink blush formed on your neck. You didn’t want Yuta to see how his words could effect you like this. Not only would he tease you relentlessly but he’d get a bit suspicious as to why they had such an effect on you. You didn’t want him to know you liked him.  That’d just make everything messy. 

A few more people agreed to go to the event, which you were happy about. It’d be fun to hang out with the other boys outside of the dorms or the dance studio for once. It was also an excuse to see everyone dressed up. You were pulled out of your thoughts when Taeil and Jungwoo came into the living room with the snacks. Everyone got comfortable in front of the tv before Taeyong hit play. You found it hard to pay attention to the movie playing, thoughts of your first SM event occupying your mind. They were rather distracting especially since they were filled with images of Yuta. You shook your head, trying to clear those intrusive thoughts away so you could pay attention the movie rather than your feelings for your best friend. 

You stood by yourself in the corner of the room sipping on some champagne. You glanced down at your phone yet again. You were starting to get impatient waiting for the boys to arrive at the event. You felt a little awkward just standing by yourself. 

“Excuse me?” 

You looked up to find a rather attractive man standing in front of you. He apparently noticed how you were standing alone and thought he’d come join you. You explained you were waiting for your friends. He said he’d keep you company in the meantime, if you wanted. Not seeing the harm in making some new friends, you agreed. 

The moment Yuta walked into the event, his eyes scanned the room for you. His head quickly turned when he heard your laughter. When he saw you acting rather friendly with another guy, he felt his blood boil. Who was this guy and what was he doing around you? Yuta started making his way over to you, hoping to split up whatever was going on. You caught sight of Yuta as he walking over, not noticing how upset he looked. You waved at him before excusing yourself. You jogged over to Yuta happily.  

“I was wondering when you’d get here!” you smiled 

“We got caught in traffic,” Yuta mumbled, “Let’s go over to the others.”

You let Yuta bring you over to the other members, all thoughts of the man from before completely leaving your mind. Off near the entrance, some of the members stood at a table drinking and talking amongst themselves. 

“Hey Y/N,” Johnny greeted you as you and Yuta walked up 

“Hey there,” you smiled, “You guys looked nice.” 

They thanked you before going back to their conversations. You joined in, completely ignoring Yuta once again. You couldn’t tell but he was becoming rather agitated with how you basically pushed him off to the side. He figured that if you weren’t going to pay attention to him, he might as well go find someone that would. 

You didn’t even notice Yuta was gone at first. When you looked for him, you found him standing with a girl. A really attractive girl. You watched how he shamelessly flirted. The girl was clearly enjoying the attention, her face tinted pink. You felt a lump growing in your throat but swallowed it knowing you had no reason to be feeling this way. He was only your friend…just a friend. You downed your glass of champagne and placed it on the table beside you. You didn’t say anything to Yuta or the other boys. You just left.

You were almost to your car when you heard someone calling your name. You glanced back and saw Yuta standing there staring at you with a look of disbelief on his face. You just kept walking to you car. You tried to ignore him- he was still calling out to your name- but he ran up to your car grabbing your wrist to keep you from getting into the car. 

“Hey, where are you going?” he asked

“I’m going home.”

“Why? We haven’t even been here that long.”

His words came out a bit rougher than he intended. He sounded so annoyed. Your eyebrows furrowed and you pulled your wrist out of Yuta’s grasp. 

“I’m feeling really tired. I’m heading home now.”

You attempted to get into your car but as you opened the door, Yuta pushed it closed. You turned around to face him.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“You’re not actually tired. What’s going on?”

“I’m...” you sighed, “I just need to go.”

Yuta didn’t stop you from getting you into the car this time. You drove away, leaving him alone out in the cold night. 

“I think I should quit working with SM,” you groaned 

“What?! This is like your dream job!” your friend exclaimed over the phone, “What would you do if you did leave anyway?”

“Maybe go to another company or just move back to the States-”

“No, you’re not coming back,” your friend stated

“Why?” you whined, “If I’m not happy here I should be allowed to come back!”

“You’re just saying all of this because you don’t want to face the facts.” she 

“What do you mean?” 

“You love Yuta.” 

You were stunned at her words. You didn’t think she’d be so brazen (and you didn’t think you were being that obvious). You sputtered out a lie saying you didn’t actually like him, he was just your childhood friend. 

“You’re not a good liar,” she laughed, “You clearly like him! Why else would you be so jealous at the thought of him flirting with someone else?”

“Well, I just know what’s-”

“Oh, ‘you know what’s best for him’. That’s not a good excuse,” she sighed, “Don’t act like the jealous best friend. You either need to tell him the truth or you can run away.”

Tell him the truth or run away...which one would be easier in the end? Too emotionally drained to decide that now, you ended the call with your friend and went to bed. Hopefully tomorrow would be an easier day. 

The next week went by as normal. You held practice a few days and on your days off, you were at home alone. You saw Yuta sometimes if he decided to come to practice but never exchanged words. He seemed mad at you; he barely acknowledged your presence when you weren’t teaching. You could tell he didn’t want you here. He didn’t care. You felt the lump growing in your throat at that thought. That was enough of a sign for you. You should go back to the States. 

You handed in your resignation to SM before you left for the day. Two weeks would be enough time for you to pack your life up. You had the whole weekend to yourself so you could start getting everything situated. You gripped the strap of your duffle bag tightly as you walked the dark streets. There was no going back now.

“Y/N!” 

Jungwoo waved to you as you walked down the hall towards the dance studio. You waved back; the smile on his face was far too contagious and a smile appeared on your lips. You were happy to be starting off your week with someone that seemed to enjoy your company. 

“Hey Jungwoo.”

“Is it true?” his smile disappeared, “You’re leaving?” 

“Wait how-”

“You’re leaving, Y/N?” Mark asked

You hadn’t noticed them walking up but a few of the other members were now standing beside Jungwoo, all of them looking at you confused. 

“Yeah,” you sighed, “I’m heading back to the States.”

“But what about your job here?” 

“I quit.”

It was obvious the boys didn’t know what to say, their silence was deafening. Instead of lingering in the sadness, you ushered them all into the practice room to start rehearsals. Yuta didn’t show up until later and of course he didn’t say anything to you. You just decided not to tell him you were leaving. You figured he wouldn’t even talk to you anyway if you tried. 

You got home earlier than usual, the boys were super on it and you were more than happy with their progress so you ended practice early. You were working on packing up your knick knacks and other decor in your apartment. You had music on and you had left your phone in the kitchen so you didn’t notice it going off repeatedly. You did however hear the loud knocking on your door. You turned down your music before heading to the front door thinking it was a neighbor or something. You were a bit taken aback when you saw Yuta standing on the other side of the door. 

“What’re you doing here?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

He was clearly angry. It looked like smoke would come out of his ears any second. You didn’t say anything, knowing he was talking about your move back to the States. You walked back into your home, Yuta following you after closing the door behind him. 

“Y/N-”

“How was I supposed to tell you when you wouldn’t talk to me?” you huffed, “You barely acknowledged me, let alone talk to me. How was I supposed to tell you when you wouldn’t even look at me?”

Yuta was silent. He knew he was wrong. He had known this for a while but something broke inside him when he found out through Jungwoo that you were moving. He had hoped that you would’ve at least told him this news yourself. You could feel yourself getting hot with anger, all of your pent up emotions finally getting ready to be released right here and now. 

“I wished and hoped that I’d get a chance to see you again and here you are but instead of having my best friend back I got some sort of double edged sword. One minute you’re acting all sweet with me then the next you’re ignoring me and angry with me like I did something wrong!”

You hadn’t noticed you were crying until a tear dripped off your face onto your hand. You wiped the tears away roughly. Yuta’s expression had softened slightly at the sight of your tears. He wanted to wrap you up in his arms and let you cry into his chest like he did when you were kids. 

“I thought that meeting by chance all these years later was some sort of destiny or fate but maybe it was just a mistake.”

Your words were like venom. Yuta felt like he was going to start crying himself. He hated this. He hated how he did this to you. His petty attempt at revenge wasn’t worth losing you. He reached out towards you but you kept your distance. 

“Please let me explain.”

“No there’s nothing to explain-”

“I love you.”

Those three words took the air out of your lungs. The whole world stopped in that moment. Neither of you said anything but your stares spoke volumes. You tried to contain the sob rising in your throat but it still escaped. Yuta couldn’t hold back any longer. He came over and wrapped your trembling body up in his arms, his hand softly stroking your head. You let the tears flow freely, not caring about how they’d stain his shirt.  

“I love you too,” you whispered

Yuta leaned back slightly to look at you. Even with puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks, you were beautiful. He cupped your cheek delicately as his lips captured yours. They molded against yours like they were meant to be together. His lips tasted sweet like peppermint and chocolate. You could get drunk off that taste. His arm snaked around your waist so he could hold you close. You relaxed into his arms letting your shyness melt away. Your arms wrapped around his neck pulling him closer to you. Yuta pulled away first so he could catch his breath.

“Don’t leave,” he breathed against your lips

You just nodded, your lips capturing his again. 

[hstyleshoney]

Stay With Me  - part one

AU friends with benefits but things get complicated, like they always do

word count: around 8.3K // angst, alcohol consumption, language 

A/N: Hiiiiii! So, back in September I posted a preview kinda thing to a fic I was just casually writing and now I have finally finished it! Took a while but I’ve been going through some shit but now it’s done! It’s gonna be a two part thing (I think) because it turned out way longer than I first expected, and this part is still so long, woops.  It’s the first thing I’ve written in YEARS so please be nice haha.  (Also, English is not my first language so I’m sorry if some grammar is wrong. I’ve proofread it many times but it could still be bit off in some places.)

AND please let me know if you liked it and if I should post part 2 as well. Feedback is so so so appreciated because it’s been sooooooooo long since I posted anything and I’m scared hahah anyways..!

Hope you like it!

His lips were hot against her skin when he leaned in and whispered in her ear.

“Your place or mine tonight?”

She smiled to herself and her heart skipped a beat when she felt his warm body press against her back. The music was loud around the two of them and she could hardly hear herself think, yet his voice was clear as day. She turned to look at him and was met by his familiar warm grin as he looked right back.

“What makes you think I’ll be going home with you tonight?” she teased.

He snorted and raised his eyebrows, and she had to bite down on the inside of her cheeks to stop herself from smiling too much.

“Well, love” he started and spun her around so he could place his hands on her hips. She felt her cheeks flush under his stare as he pulled her even closer to him. He smelled like beer and tequila mixed with that cologne she loved so much. Her knees weakened and he smirked. “I think we both know you are.”

He was right.

But she wasn’t going to let him have that.

“It’s awfully bold of you to assume such a thing, Mr. Styles.”

“Is it though?” He was still smirking and she felt her knees weaken even more as his tongue poked out to wet his pink lips. Her heart was beating so hard she was sure he would’ve heard it if it wasn’t for the loud music. Sweaty bodies kept bumping into the two of them on the overcrowded dance floor, which normally she couldn’t stand, but she was drunk. Very drunk and she was hungry and tired... and also in a huge need of a wee.

However, now Harry was standing in front of her.

So needless to say nothing else really mattered anymore.

His mere presence made her forget about all the people around them and suddenly her bladder didn’t seem so full after all. That’s the effect he had on her and he knew it. With his soft brown hair that curled so pretty at the tips, his smooth skin and green eyes; there was no way she wasn’t going home with him again tonight. He was the best thing she had ever laid her eyes on and he also wanted to take her home.

So who was she to say no?

“Yours then,” she replied and tried to not sound too eager. Harry squeezed her hips again as she finally confirmed they would indeed go home with one other again and pulled her even closer into him. His chest pressed against hers and she swore she could feel his heartbeat against hers.

“See that wasn’t so hard to say, was it?” She rolled her eyes as she noticed his smug grin and as much as it pained her to do; she pushed him off, pointing a finger into his chest.

“We’re stopping to buy fries on the way though... and you’re paying!”

Harry laughed and agreed, but not before adding; “I can give you something a lot better than fries once we get back.”

And well… she didn’t disagree.

-

She wasn’t entirely sure when this thing between the two of them started, or how it started even. It was just one of those things that happened one night. Harry first came into her life when her flatmate Louisa started dating his mate Tom during their first year of uni.

The first time she met him they didn’t really speak to each other. It had really just been a case of her admiring him from afar as he was approached by a handful of women at the student bar. She thought he was probably the prettiest guy she had ever laid her eyes on and thought to herself that he was just way too cool to ever notice her.

It was obvious from the start, by just watching him, that he had an aura around him that drew everyone in. People, both boys and girls, flooded around him wherever he went. He was always the center of attention and she understood why. Because not only was he the prettiest guy she had ever seen, he was also one of the nicest guys she had ever met. At first she had just assumed he’d be an arsehole because to be fair she had never really met a guy that got as much attention as him that wasn’t one.  

However, as Louias’s and Tom’s relationship grew more serious; the more all of them hung out and she started talking to him rather than just staring from afar. She got to know him and even though the two of them were quite different from each other, they still became good friends.

While she was more of a typical girly girl who enjoyed spending a little too much money on overpriced makeup palettes and listened to whatever songs were in the top list that week Harry was a little more into old school music, bringing up bands and songs she had never heard of before. He did all his shopping at different thrift shops. He wore weird shirts and painted his nails without caring what anyone else thought while she couldn’t even leave her house without checking with all her roommates at least three times if her outfit was okay. She loved scrolling through Instagram. Harry didn’t even have an account.

He was interesting, alluring and cool.

She just wasn’t any of that.

She wasn’t his type and he was simply just out of her league.

Until one night.

It was at the start of their third year at uni and they were out to celebrate their friend Jax’s birthday. To make a complicated story short, there had just been a ridiculous amount of alcohol consumed and when she told everyone she was leaving Harry stood up too and announced he’d come with her, and because everyone was so drunk, the two of them included, no one thought more about it.

They left the club together. Harry got them an Uber and when it stopped outside her house he got out as well.

Kisses were shared and clothes came off and the next day she thought she was still dreaming when Harry was right there next to her when she woke up. There was no awkwardness though as they shared a cup of tea and he made them a full English breakfast to cure their hangovers.

And then they did the same thing again next weekend and it kinda just became a thing. That was three months ago now and it was still nothing they really talked about. Which was fine; she didn’t really want to talk about it. Because what was she supposed to say? Whatever was going on between them was working and she didn’t want to complicate things.

She was fine with just waking up next to him every now and again. Especially now when the nights were getting colder it was just nice to have a warm body to snuggle up to.

It was an agreement that worked well for both of them, even if she did fancy him a little it wasn’t a full-blown crush and Harry kept calling her his friend so that’s what she also settled on calling herself. She knew she wasn’t the type of girl he usually went for and that somehow made it easier to keep her feelings for him platonic. He was too cool for her anyway.

This way she just didn’t have to swipe through tinder or chat some random guy up at the bar to get laid.

Louisa kept warning her that she was going to get her heart broken but it was just sex. Amazing sex. He made her feel like no other man ever had. Harry knew just how to work her and it made her lose her breath every single time. Her whole body was on fire anytime he touched her. She didn’t want to think about getting her heart broken.  

“What time is it?”

Harry’s raspy voice startled her out of her thoughts and his body vibrated against hers under the duvet as he chuckled at her reaction. His arm was slung over her waist loosely and she could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck, leaving goosebumps all over her skin.

“I dunno,” she whispered back and leaned into his touch a little more. The hair on his legs tickled her smoother ones and she could feel her skin sticking against his, but neither of them made any effort to move away from each other. It was still early though, that much she knew. The sun was barely shining in through the blinds in Harry’s bedroom.

“Hm,” he hummed and tightened his grip a little. “Can’t sleep?”

“Just thinking. “

“About…?”

“Nothing really.”

Harry hummed again but didn’t say anything else. They laid in silence while Harry circled his thumb over her stomach lightly. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. Just the two of them, tangled in each other’s naked bodies and the sheets. She could feel a hangover coming over her slowly. Her head felt heavy and throbbed painfully against the soft pillows. There was a glass of water on the bedside table tempting her but reaching out for it meant moving away from Harry and she was just way too comfortable to do so.

It wasn’t long until Harry’s soft snores filled the room again and his thumb stilled. She sighed deeply, sleep creeping over her too. They were friends. Friends that slept together and cuddled. Nothing else. Just friends.

… but she really could stay like this forever.

-

The next time she woke up Harry wasn’t next to her anymore and the room was a lot brighter. A weak whimper left her lips and she buried her face into the pillow; the sunlight too much for her sensitive eyes and raging headache, which only seemed to have gotten worse.

Blindly she reached out for the glass she’d spotted earlier, but instead of actually getting a hold of it it was knocked over. It landed on the floor with a soft thud and her eyes shot open at the sound. Glancing down she noticed that, thankfully, the glass hadn’t broken into a million pieces, but unfortunately there was water everywhere.

“Damn it,” she muttered and fell back, hiding her face in the pillow again. Stupid water. Stupid hangover. Stupid everything.

Her head was spinning and her body ached. This hangover was going to be rough and she cursed herself for letting Jax and Beth persuade her into taking all those shots the night before. She knew it was going to come back and bite her in the ass today. Stupid Jax. Stupid Beth. Stupid shots.

Outside the bedroom she could hear Harry roaming around in the kitchen, talking to his flatmate Isaac and every now and then he’d sing along to the music playing softly in the background. She relaxed as she listened to his voice. At least there was something good about this morning.

And it was enough to eventually get her out of bed.

She found her black underwear at the bottom of the bed and pulled them on, stepping around the water she had just spilled as she got out and made a mental note to herself to fix that mess later.

The black strap dress and oversized blazer from the night before were stern across the floor and she stared at them for a long time before deciding she wasn’t in the mood to put them back on at this time. Looking around the room she spotted something very familiar. The yellow jumper she always wore when she slept over was hung neatly over Harry’s chair by the desk, waiting for her, and she smiled to herself knowing he’d put it there for her to wear.

Always so considerate.

“Jesus, you look like absolute shit,” Isaac teased when she eventually emerged from the bedroom and into the kitchen “Wild night?”

“Fuck off,” she groaned and walked straight past him and over to the sink to pour herself a glass of water, downing it in pretty much one gulp. It spilled down her chin and onto the jumper, leaving a big wet stain, but she really couldn’t care less. Water had never tasted better.

“Ah, I’m just saying,” Isaac laughed. “You look like you got run over by a truck.”

“Feels like I was,” she admitted and slumped down on one of the chairs next to the kitchen counter. “Ugh, I’m never drinking again.”

“Ha! Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.”

The kitchen was surprisingly cold and she regretted not stealing a pair of Harry’s sweatpants before leaving his warm comfy bedroom. She let her eyes wander over to him and felt her pulse pick up. Harry was standing shirtless in the kitchen, only dressed in his regular Nike sports shorts, and she just couldn’t stop herself from staring at his tattoos and toned chest. The same chest she’d left kisses all over just hours ago and it gave her goosebumps just thinking about. He had a spatula in one of his hands and a cup of coffee in the other. As always, he was perfect and she looked like a mess. Great.

Harry smirked as he caught her staring, but didn’t say anything about it.

“Do you want some breakfast?” he asked instead.

“Please.”

A minute later he placed a plate of eggs and some toast in front of her. The smell of it made her nauseous but she also knew that if she didn’t eat anything she was going to feel a lot worse soon. She’d much rather crawl back into Harry’s bed and maybe sleep for another hour or two, preferably with him beside her.

But now she had a plate of food in front of her that Harry had made and it would be rude to at least not try to eat some. So she ate in silence while listening to Harry tell Isaac about the previous night and slowly she realized that she had a few blackouts from the night.

Shit, how much did I drink?

She really shouldn’t have taken those shots. Her mother would have lectured her for hours if she knew about the heavy party nights that sometimes occurred, having a strong belief alcohol was indeed a gift from the devil himself. Alcohol and sugar. She had lost count of the number of books her mother had given her about healthy living and mindful thinking, and she was pretty sure she was getting another one for Christmas. Harry once found her hidden stash of books she’d put in the back of her closet and begged her for one. She happily gave it to him.

Harry would probably love her mother’s rants about the dangers of alcohol and unhealthy meals she thought to herself and almost rolled her eyes. She could picture it now; Harry and her mother sharing recipes with each other that claimed your life would be twenty years longer and ganging up on her about the lack of exercise she did. What a nightmare.

Yet, she had to ignore the warm feeling in her belly at the thought of Harry getting along with her mother.

“Alright well,” Isaac announced after a while and stood up. “I gotta get to work. Fuckin’ Jake called in sick so now I gotta cover his shift at the shop.”

“Sucks mate,” Harry replied while he shoved the last piece of his toast into his mouth. “At least you’re getting some extra cash.”

“Yeah yeah, something like that,” Isaac muttered as he dropped his dirty plate into the sink. “I’ll see you guys later. Hope you feel better party girl!”

She shot him a weak smile and a nod as a thank you. Her plate of food was still half full and the cup of tea Harry had also made for her was now cold. She just couldn’t force herself to eat more. Stupid shots.

“You really do look like you got run over by a truck,” Harry chuckled when Isaac was gone and she sent him a glare. “How much did you drink? Didn’t realize you were that drunk when we left.”

“I actually have no idea. I think Jax and Beth might have poisoned me.”

“Ah,” he nodded. “That explains it.”

“Mm.“

“Can I get you anything else?”

“No, that’s okay” she told him. “Kinda just wanna go back to bed if I’m honest.”

“‘S your lucky day then,” Harry said and rose to his feet, offering his hand out to her. “Let’s go.”

She could have cried out of happiness when she finally crawled back into Harry’s comfortable bed. The sheets had never been more comforting as she pulled them up to her chin and made herself into a little cocoon. She never wanted to leave his bed ever again. “You are ridiculous.”

She peeked out at him from under the duvet and noticed him smiling down at her fondly, but his smile soon turned into a small frown. “Is that water all over the floor?”

“Oh yeah... that was me. Sorry,” she pouted.

“I repeat, you are ridiculous,” he rolled his eyes but she also knew he wasn’t upset when she noticed his little dimple.

He quickly cleaned up the mess she had created earlier and then jumped up to join her. The bed shook as he landed and she groaned as another wave of nausea washed over her. But having him next to her again made her forget all about it. He smelled so good. How did he always smell so good?

She rested her head on his shoulder as he pulled up his laptop and signed onto his Netflix account, picking the first random movie that caught his interest.

And that’s how the two of them spent the next few hours. Just laying in bed together watching random movies on Netflix with her dozing in and out of sleep for most of the time. Harry kept running his fingers through her hair, gently scratching the top of her head and it was probably the most soothing thing she had ever experienced.

Eventually, she started feeling better but made no effort to move or get up.

Not until he did.

“I’m gonna take a shower quickly,” he announced as the third movie finished. She followed him with her gaze as he got up and pulled out a pair of fresh boxers out of his drawer. Her heart beat a little extra. “You can watch something else if you want.”

“Thanks. Are you doing something later or?” she asked casually and pulled his computer onto her lap.

“Yeah, uh, I forgot I have a date actually.”

She’s pretty sure she forgot how to breathe then.

A date.

Harry had a date.

“Oh... “ is all she managed to say. Her mouth felt as dry as it did when she woke up earlier that morning and she racked her brain for something else to say. Unfortunately there was nothing. Harry stopped and looked at her.

“Is - I mean...  um, is that okay?”

“What?”

She felt stupid. So utterly stupid but she just couldn’t find the words to speak. She felt weird, even though she knew he was technically only her friend and she knew they were not even close to being exclusive. But Harry was going on a date. Like a proper date. Not just hooking up after a night out. A date. With someone else.

“Are you okay with me going on a date... ?” he asked slowly, inspecting her closely and that’s when she realized she needed to say something fast.

“Yeah, no, of course!” she tried to laugh but it was more of a strange cackle coming out of her mouth rather than a laugh. Harry eyed her for another minute and she sat up. Her palms were sweaty and her cheeks hot. She felt like a bigger mess now than she had all morning. “Harry, we’re friends. Why would I care if you go on a date?”

Harry looked at her a bit startled.

“Well, because we-”

“I’m fine,” she interrupted before he could finish and cursed herself yet again for being so fucking weird. They were friends. She had no reason to not be okay with it. She knew she wasn’t his type. Of course he was going on a date with someone else. She knew this and she needed to get herself together before he wanted to talk about something related to the two of them and make things complicated. The thing between them wasn’t something they ever talked about and she refused to start doing it now. “I’m excited for you even,” she shot him the biggest fake smile she could muster. “Who is she?”

What a stupid question.

“Uh, a friend of Matt’s or something like that,” he shrugged, but he looked at her with uncertainty written all across his face; almost like he didn’t believe a single word she was saying.  “I don’t know really. He set us up.”

“Cool.”

“Cool... ?”

Suddenly she doesn’t want to be in his bed anymore. For the very first time, she felt awkward sitting in front of him.

“Yeah, cool.”

“Oookay.”

Silence.

It’s uncomfortable and she knew she messed this up. Both of them were frozen in place and she had to look away from him before it was all too much. She was so aware of how her cheeks had turned into a deep color of red and she felt nauseous, only this time she knew it was not from the alcohol.

“I’m just,” Harry coughed in an attempt to break the heavy tension and she wanted nothing more than to disappear.  “I’m gonna go take that shower.” He pointed awkwardly towards the door.

“Yeah, uh,” she said and tried her absolute hardest to get herself back together. To act normal. “I’m going to head home anyways I think.”

“No, you don’t-”

“It’s okay,” she interrupted him again. “Beth wanted to have pizza night and I should stop being such a lazy ass anyways. I have some studying to do before my lecture tomorrow too, soo... yeah, gonna head home.”

Harry looked at her for a moment, scanning her face after any other sign that something was wrong, but she managed to keep it together and he nodded.

“Alright, well I’ll see you around yeah?”

“Of course.”

When he left the room she let out a breath she’d been holding ever since Harry first mentioned the word ‘date’. She also realized she did not like the way she just reacted and that maybe, very possibly, Lou might have been right.

She was fucked.

-

For the next few days she couldn’t stop thinking about Harry and his date. She wished she could go back in time and take back everything she said; wished she would have reacted differently. It was hard to think about anything else and all she wanted to do was to go and see him and ask him all about it. How did it go? Was she nice? What did they do? Was he going to see her again? Did they kiss?

And if she hadn’t been so embarrassed about her behaviour she probably would've done so, but she had no explanation as to why she’d been so weird and she was too scared to go deeper into her own feelings and find one. So as much as she wanted to see him she was also extremely terrified to do so.

But it was really eating her up.

She couldn’t focus on anything else.

And it was strange.

Before all this, she was sure of her feelings towards Harry. Sure he was attractive, he was nice and he made her laugh, but she thought she’d managed to keep it platonic. Now she just felt weird. Everything about their arrangement felt weird, and she didn’t know what to do. Deep down she knew there wasn’t much she could actually do about it. He went on a date and she was his friend. Friends with benefits. They weren’t anything exclusive. He hadn’t done anything wrong. She told him so herself.

Still, something felt wrong.

On Thursday night their whole gang made plans to meet up for their regular quiz night down at the pub and she stood in front of her mirror for an hour, preparing herself to see him again. She changed her outfit five times and rehearsed what to say when she saw him over and over again.

Only for him to not show up.

So instead of being squished into his side all night, she was stuck between Jax and Louisa and she found herself missing him. She didn’t even have to ask to know he was on another date, yet when Isaac confirmed it later she felt her heart drop down to her stomach.

Louisa glanced over at her when Isaac told them and she forced a smile, not ready to let anyone know about the weird feeling in her chest. Louisa also tried to bring it up on their way home, but she brushed it off with the same thing she always did.

“We’re just friends.”

But once she was home in bed it was harder to act like nothing was troubling her. Harry was out on another date and it shouldn’t be bothering her but it did. It bothered her a lot. He should’ve been right there with her, laughing along at their friends' jokes all night and then suggest coming back home with her.

Now he just wasn't and it felt wrong. It was only three months ago that he came home with her for the first time but somehow it wasn’t until now she realized that she may have gotten a little too used to it.

It was so stupid the whole thing. Like ridiculously so.

She knew from the first night that she would never be more than a few drunken nights to him. That his touch wasn’t hers to keep. It belonged to someone else. So why did it feel so weird now?

On Friday night, Beth invited a few people over from uni to their place for a game night and some wine. She joined them but decided to stay away from the wine. They played monopoly for most of the evening while gossiping about everyone they knew. It was nice. It was fun. She won at monopoly. But most importantly it helped her to not worry about what Harry was doing or who he was seeing. It felt like her brain got a long awaited break from everything and she slept better that night than she had all week.

It was on Saturday it all came crashing down.

They were all going out. The whole gang. As always everyone had shown up for pre-drinks at the house she shared with Louisa, Beth and Aliyah as it was the biggest one. Jax had as usual brought along a bottle of Fireball that he forced everyone take a shot out of. Beth refused to let anyone else control the music. Tom and Louisa were loved up on the sofa together. Isaac was in the kitchen mixing drinks for everyone while Aliyah complained about Beth’s choice of music. All in all it was a pretty typical Saturday night and it was all going well.

Until Harry showed up. With a girl.

She almost dropped her drink when she saw them and everyone in the room turned to look at her when they entered. Once again she had to force a smile to assure them she didn't care and more than ever before she tried to ignore the way her heart sank inside her chest.

And for some very odd reason; she was the first to stand up and greet Harry’s new lady friend. Maybe because everyone was looking at her and it felt like they were just waiting for her to start crying in front of everyone. She didn’t want their pity so she stood and shook this new girl’s hand, acting like everything was completely fine.

“Cleo,” the girl introduced herself with a cheery smile.

And that was about it.

After that she didn’t really talk to her anymore. That’s something she left for the rest of the group to do.

It was hard to concentrate on anything else for the rest of the evening and despite promising herself to not take a shot from Jax’s bottle of Fireball; she had three. The alcohol was warm as it made its way down her throat and she noticed Louisa watching her with worried eyes.

And Harry? She couldn’t even look at him. He tried to talk to her and start a conversation at one point but it felt like her brain was about to explode from anxiety so she quickly excused herself and hid in the bathroom for a good twenty minutes.

She tried her very best to be engaged in the conversations around her and she tried so hard to have a good time. Just like she had the night before. But with Harry right there with Cleo it was fucking impossible and she felt like a green little goblin watching the new pair.

Cleo was pretty much everything she expected her to be and more. She just couldn’t stop staring at them. Harry had a hand on her thigh and she was so polite to everyone. Just like him. She had tasteful tattoos all over and it was almost like the two of them had coordinated their outfits before coming over. Both dressed in checkered prints and matching colors of pink and red. She felt so stupid in her boring and basic black jumpsuit and her dull eye make-up.

Cleo was so effortlessly pretty and she just wasn’t.

It was a slap in the face just how right they looked together.

And it just got worse when they arrived at the club because under the flashing lights on the dance floor she saw how Harry leaned in and kissed Cleo. One of his hands was low on her back while the other caressed her face. Everything was spinning as she watched them kiss she knew it was not only because of the alcohol in her veins.

It hit her hard. Because a small, a very small, and naive part of her thought that maybe he’d still want to go home with her and not Cleo. But as she watched him kiss Cleo the way he used to kiss her ruined all hope she had ridiculously built up.

And maybe it wasn’t the kiss itself that hurt so much but more the fact that Harry was now with someone else and it was real. It was so bloody real.  Just last week it was her and now he was kissing Cleo and had barely looked in her direction all night. And even though he technically hadn’t done anything wrong it still hurt and she was angry. Angry with him for kissing someone else, but mostly at herself for still wanting him. For wanting to walk right up and pull him away and take him home. She still wanted him despite everything, but she couldn’t have him.

So instead she had some tequila.

Except, tequila probably wasn’t the best company because in the wee hours of the night she regretted every single shot she had taken. The alcohol in her body made her stomach turn heavily and it was a miracle she even made it into a bathroom stall before it all came back up. Someone on the other side of the stall asked if she was okay but she could barely hear them over the loud buzzing in her ears and her own gagging.

It took her several minutes before she found the strength to get back up on her feet, brushing away the dirt from her jumpsuit, trying desperately not to think about all the germs she had most likely caught from resting so long against a public toilet seat.

As she exited the stall another girl looked over and she didn’t even try to pretend like she hadn’t just been throwing her guts up minutes ago. Instead, she splashed some cold water on her face and took a steady grip of the sink to keep herself standing up.

Fuck.

When she stumbled out of the bathroom a while later she had to lean against the walls to not fall over. The dim lighting in the club made it even harder for her to see where she was going and she kept bumping into bodies as she eventually made her way through the crowd.

Then all of a sudden someone grabbed her by the shoulders.

“Heeeey, party-girl, are you okay?”

The buzzing was still loud in her ears and her vision was blurry, but she still somehow managed to recognize the voice and the striking blonde hair. Isaac. As soon as she knew it wasn’t a complete stranger that had grabbed her she fell into him without a warning and he stumbled a little as he tried to catch her body. “Woah, steady on.”

She tried to talk to him. Tried to explain how she got to this point but no coherent words were coming out of her mouth and she had to use his whole body for support. He wrapped an arm around her and hoisted her up a little before taking a hold of her chin so he could get a good look of her face. She could tell that he was talking to her, his mouth was moving, but she had no idea what he was actually saying. It was too loud and she was too drunk. The club atmosphere made her stomach turn once more and all she wanted to do was to get out of there before she was sick all over again.

And somehow she managed to communicate that to Isaac.

The air was cool and refreshing when they finally made it out of the club and she was clinging onto Isaac as if her life depended on him. He had a strong arm wrapped around her as he pulled out his phone with his other hand to get an Uber. As they waited for it to show up Isaac slowly guided her over and sat her down on the curb next to the road. He crouched down in front of her and took a hold of her chin again. That’s when the first tears fell. She didn’t even try to hide it, once again too drunk and too sad to care if Isaac saw that she was crying.  His eyes widened as he noticed.

“Heey, noooo, no, don’t cry. What’s wrong?”

She didn’t know what to tell him. Everything was spinning too much to be able to think of what to say. The alcohol and emotions had taken over all of her senses and it was all just too much. There was only one explanation for her behavior tonight after all and how would she even begin to explain it to him? She had no idea. So all she said was

“Cleo.”

Isaac didn’t say anything in response but she was pretty sure he knew exactly what it meant when he reached out and squeezed her shoulder. Nothing more was said as they waited for the Uber to show up and the last thing she remembered was crying about not having the key for her house.

-

The next morning was arguably the worst morning of her life, which seemed quite fitting as she’d had the worst evening of her life the previous night. Most of the morning was spent on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, head first down the toilet, regretting every single decision from last night.

This time though it was all her own fault. There was no one else to blame for all the shots she downed but herself.

It was embarrassing. So so embarrassing how drunk she got and how much Isaac had to take care of her. He had brought her back to his and Harry’s shared flat after they couldn’t find her key and realized she was locked out from her own home. She cried her eyes out in the Uber while Isaac tried to comfort her and when they got out she almost got vomit all over his new sneakers.

However, Isaac was nice about it all. He didn’t say anything and just helped her inside, put her down on the sofa, made sure she drank some water and covered her with a blanket. She couldn’t remember exactly what she told him but she knew she had talked about Harry and it was killing her.

But Isaac continued to be nice and he didn’t bring it up when he wandered in and said good morning.

“Y’alright?”

“I feel like death,” she confessed and her throat hurt a little from being sick all last night and earlier that morning.  Isaac chuckled lightly.

“Yeah, I can imagine.”

She bit the bottom of her lip and struggled to look at him where he sat on the armchair opposite the sofa she was spread out over. She had known him for as long as she had known Harry, but she had never actually been alone with him in a room and now when she was sober she felt so stupid, and also so incredibly self-conscious because she knew her make-up from last night was smudged all over her face and she had vomit on her jumpsuit and all over her hair. It was the lowest she’d ever been.

“So um,” she grumbled. “Thanks for last night, eh... yeah, I don’t know. I’m sorry for being a mess.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Isaac waved it off and smiled at her. “We’ve all been there.”

“Yeah, well, thank you anyway.” She still couldn’t look at him as she spoke. Because he knew. He knew her feelings for Harry had changed and she didn’t know how to act now.

“So much for never drinking again huh?” he joked lightly to ease the mood and she forced a laugh.

“Yeah, didn’t stick to that one, did I?”

Silence fell between them after that, but in some ways, it was a comfortable one. Isaac sat in his chair and scrolled through his phone as he drank his morning coffee while she just laid on the sofa and tried to collect her mind and emotions. He offered to make breakfast but there was just no way she was going to be able to stomach it. Water was pretty much all that her stomach allowed and she was barely holding onto that. It was early still and she could tell it was raining heavily outside as the raindrops drummed heavily against the windows. It was comfortable though. Pleasant even.

And then, out of nowhere, Cleo emerged from Harry’s bedroom and all the emotions from last night washed over her like a tsunami.

Plus, it felt like someone was playing a practical joke on her when she saw that Cleo was wearing Harry’s shirt from the night before.

“Good morning!” Cleo was as cheery as she was last night and looked even better. Issac nodded and greeted Cleo politely. To make things worse Cleo sat down in the other armchair and started a conversation. Time stopped as she watched Cleo and Isaac talk and it felt like someone suffocated her with one of the pillows. “Did you guys have a good night then?”

She couldn’t take her eyes off Cleo, who looked perfect even after a night out. Her hair was still flawless and her skin looked like it was glowing. It wasn’t ideal for anyone to see or be next to Cleo when they woke up after a chaotic night out and they themselves were covered in vomit. It honestly made her more nauseous than her hangover had all morning and she’d probably never felt as ugly as she did in that moment laying next to Cleo.

“It was decent, yeah,” Isaac said and then looked at her. His eyes filled with pity and she hated it. She hated it so much. “You?”

“It was super fun,” Cleo answered with a big smile. “Harry and I got in sooooo late though. We stopped to get some food down at that kebab place around the corner before we got in and I swear to God it was the best food I’ve had in my life! Thanks for letting me come out with you guys.”

And just like that, it was all too much. There was just no way she could sit there and talk to the girl who was dating the boy she had come to realize she liked more than just a friend. There was a lot she could do and put up with, but that wasn’t one of those things.

“Um, excuse me,” she mumbled as she got up from the sofa. Isaac called out her name but she ignored it. Her whole body ached and her head felt heavy. She had no idea how she was actually going to make it home in this state but she’d try her damn hardest, even if she was sick along the way it would be better than staying here.

Then she heard her name being called again.  

This time however it was from someone else.

Someone whose voice she’d recognize anywhere.

Harry.

“What are you doing here?” He looked at her with furrowed brows, clearly not expecting to see her.

“Oh, eh, hey,” she managed to croak out and fought back the urge to be sick all over again. “I came back with Isaac last night.”

“You uh, you came back with Isaac?” Harry asked slowly, his eyes never leaving her as a small line formed between his brows. He opened his mouth to say something else, but closed it just as fast. The silence that fell between them then was defeating.

“I mean, I wasn’t feeling very well so he helped me out a little.”

“Oh, okay,” he nodded and the corner of his mouth twisted into a small smile, but then it faltered just as fast. “Did something happen? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.”  She knew she was being short with him and the look he gave her burned into her skin, but with tears threatening to fall at any moment it was a conversation she really didn’t want to have. Not with him. Not right now. “Look, Harry, I gotta go.”

“What?” he said and pushed himself off the door frame he leaned against, and as he came closer she took a step back. “You’re more than welcome to stay. It’s so early still and by the sounds of it it’s bucketing down outside. Stay for some breakfast. I was gonna make some pancakes.”

“I have to go.”

“Wait,” he called after her when she turned her back to him and got ready to leave. “Hey, wait a minute!”

She didn’t really care at that point though. Whatever thing she and Harry had was already gone and there was nothing that could make things worse than what they were now. She just wanted to get out and get as far away from him as fast as possible.

So she left without saying another word to Harry despite him calling her name.

- “Harry’s a fucking prick anyways,” Aliyah began and threw her hands up dramatically. “Like, is he just going to sleep with you one week and then replace you next week? No, fuck that. You deserve better.”

“He did tell me about it though,” she noted with a small sniffle and curled up further under her blanket. “I mean, he did tell me he was going on a date so it’s not like he lied or I don’t know... went behind my back.”

“Yeah, well, he’s still a prick,” Aliyah grumbled and slumped back against the sofa, arms crossed over her chest.

“Besides, we’re just friends, you know... ”

“You’re clearly more than just friends though,” Louisa added carefully with knowing eyes. “Like, I hate to break it to you but it’s pretty obvious you like him.”

“I... “ she trailed off not knowing how to respond to that. Because she knew she couldn’t keep denying it anymore. Not after showing up at her own house, drenched from the rain with red puffy eyes in last night’s clothes and without a key. No matter how scary it was to admit what she had buried inside her heart for so long it was impossible to deny it any longer. “Yeah. I do. I do like him.”

She let out a huge breath as she finally admitted it. It was strange, but also so right. The feelings she had for Harry was something she had buried inside for so long and it was freeing almost to now admit it out loud in front of her best friends.

“Maybe you should tell him that?” Beth suggested.

She almost laughed.

“That’s definitely not happening,” she shut down the suggestion straight away. There was no way she was telling him how she felt. Especially not now. “He obviously doesn't like me back, and besides he has Cleo now, and you know.. he’s like actually dating her and stuff so…”

“So what?” Beth cut in. “He might like you too. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“Me?” she scoffed. “Yeah, I highly doubt that.”

Beth shrugged.

“I don’t know. I think he might do.”

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter anymore does it? He has Cleo now.”

“You won’t know unless you ask,” Louisa pointed out with a small twinkle in her eyes. Before she had the chance to object to the faulty statement the sound of the doorbell ringing echoed through the house.

“That’s probably the food,” Beth announced and stood up swiftly. “I’ll go get it.”

She gave Beth a small smile and wiped her wet cheeks with the ends of her blanket. As soon as she had left Harry’s flat earlier that morning she broke down in tears and called Louisa who offered to come to pick her up straight away but she declined, needing some time for herself before facing anyone.

But after showing up a mess, drenched from the rain in last night’s clothes after walking all the way home it was clear that she needed all her friends today. So Aliyah ran her a bath while Beth ordered food and Louisa went out for snacks and her favorite drink.

And she couldn’t be more grateful.

“Uhm,” Beth popped her head back in the living room and it was obvious by the look on Beth’s face that something was off. “It’s Harry.”

“W-what?”

For a moment she thought that maybe Beth was just taking the piss but judging by the confusion spreading across the room she quickly realized that wasn’t the case. “I don’t want to talk to him.”

“You sure?” Louisa asked. “This might be the perfect opportunity to talk things through.”

“No,” she shook her head quickly. “I can’t. Not now.”

“I’ll go talk to him!” Aliyah announced with fire in her eyes and leaped off the sofa in one go, only to have Beth stop her in the doorway.

“I think maybe I should talk to him,” she offered and looked at Aliyah with both her eyebrows raised knowingly. Aliyah only mumbled something under her breath but accepted Beth’s proposal and returned to her spot on the sofa without a fuss.

“You okay?” Louisa asked when Beth disappeared again to go talk to the boy who had her heart aching so badly. Louisa reached out to squeeze her knee gently when she didn’t respond. She just didn't know what to say; because she wasn’t okay. She was very much far from okay today.

Tears welled up in her eyes for the hundredth time and she shook her head and attempted to blink her tears away. She didn’t want to cry anymore. Louisa sighed and pulled her closer and wrapped her arms around her in a long hug. It was embarrassing really how much she had cried all day but she just couldn't stop. Never in a million years did she think she’d ever get so upset over a guy.

But it was Harry.

Harry who left jumpers out for her to wear after she stayed at his flat. Harry who made her breakfast in the morning and knew exactly how she liked her tea. Harry who made her laugh until she couldn’t breathe anymore. Harry who rubbed her back after a night out. Harry who let her steal all of the duvet in her sleep even though he was cold too. Harry who texted her stupid jokes just because he knew she liked them. Harry who also texted her cute pictures of puppies because she loved dogs. Harry who made her feel like no man ever had.

Harry who was now with Cleo.

Cleo who was absolutely perfect for him. Cleo who probably went thrift shopping with him and helped him find silly shirts with crazy prints and knew about all the bands he always talked about.

Cleo who was just so much better than her.

-

Harry Styles 8:27 AM Heeeyyy are you mad at me?

Harry Styles 10:12 AM Hello?

Harry Styles 10:46 AM Ok so mad then? will you pls talk to me? don’t like the way you stormed off earlier :/

Harry Styles 12:01 PM Hellloooooooo? pls talk to me

Harry Styles 12:30 PM Isaac told me you were quite upset last night... did something happen?  

Harry Styles 12:56 PM You’re making me a bit worried, did you make it home okay?

Harry Styles 1:15 PM I tried calling a few times but it’s not really coming through.. Are you okay?

Harry Styles 2:49 PM I'm coming over

Harry Styles 4:37 PM Beth said you weren’t feeling so well,  I hope you feel better soon, make sure you drink loads of water! .xx

Harry Styles 11:26 PM Ok sooo, i dunno whats going on. i dunno if Beth lied to me today or not... i just hope you're okay. you know you can talk to me if something is bothering you right?

Goodnight .xxx

-

PART 2 ♡

Let me know your thoughts. Thank you for reading! <3 

[purple-phantoms]

Happiest Place on Earth

Modern!Reggie Peters x Gender-Neutral!Reader, Luke Patterson x Alex Mercer

Based off of: #95 from my bucket list, Spend the whole day at Magic Kingdom

A/N: This was requested by @i-should-be-writing-my-own-fic ! This is mostly going to be based off of research and memory. I’ve been to Magic Kingdom before, but only when I was 7 so I barely remember anything. In school a couple years ago I used to plan out which hotel I was going to stay in and which rides I wanted to go on lol. It’s such a shame that the pandemic had to hit. Also I’m basing this off of Disney World in Florida because I’m more familiar with that one. This is super long and not great, but hope you like it!

Summary: Y/n, Alex, Luke, and Reggie spend the day at Disney’s Magic Kingdom. Y/n and Reggie stay together while Luke and Alex pair up. Both groups try to hide their relationships from the other, until everything magically unfolds.

Masterlist

For reference, if you’ve never been to Disney World and have no idea what the rides are, I’m including links to pictures I used to write this.

For “Peter Pan’s Flight”: Youtube video, Google Images link

For “Be Our Guest”: Disney World website, Pinterest image

For “Pirates of the Caribbean”: Youtube video

For “Splash Mountain”: TikTok from Pinterest, Youtube video

The warm sun rose on the concrete. Thousands of people lined up outside the gates to purchase their tickets for the giant themepark. Them and the boys waited anxiously. They were just about to get to buy their tickets but there was a giant family of 7 in front of them. It felt like years before they called the next people. It felt like centuries before they were allowed to enter the paradise. The four of them split up into pairs; Alex and Luke, and Y/n and Reggie. They wanted to go their separate ways and go on all the rides possible and occasionally meet up to get food and relax.

The first stop for y/n and Reggie was to Cinderella’s castle for pictures. Reggie dragged them by the hand to get as close to the castle, pushing past a lot of people in the process. In their bag was a polaroid camera. It probably wasn’t the best idea to bring something like that to a theme park where it could easily be misplaced or stolen, but memories, right? Y/n took pictures of Reggie first. He did some poses both facing away from the castle and facing the castle. Next was y/n’s turn. Now, y/n was smart. They bought some Disney related things way before the trip. They bought Mickey Mouse earrings and ears for their outfit. Y/n did the same as Reggie and took pictures facing away and towards the castle.

Next stop was to It’s a Small World in Fantasyland. Y/n and Reggie sat in the boat together and swayed to the music as they started moving in the ride. The animatronics were cool but really creepy at the same time. “What if one of those just exploded like in a sci-fi movie,” y/n laughed. Most times y/n was capable of correctly anticipating what would come next in a ride. They could tell that this was just a chill ride, but it’s always fun to imagine the unlikely.

“If that happens, you should just snatch one of them up, and then we just have to run,” Reggie smiled as they laughed. Y/n and Reggie were always the ones in the group who thought that way. Obviously, they wouldn’t actually do that, but that doesn’t mean that it wouldn’t be cool if they did.

Next they went to Peter Pan’s flight. Peter Pan had always been one of Reggie’s favorite characters because of his youth. Obviously before getting in line y/n had to take a picture of Reggie. God, he was gorgeous.

The wait was longer than what they had expected but it was worth it. The scenery was a beautiful sight. When they finally got to the end of the line, they gingerly entered their cart. The ride was chill like the one they had been on before. Reggie kissed y/n on the cheek before laying his head on y/n’s shoulder as they travelled through Neverland. All the animatronics looked so life-like and accurate to the movie. It would be crazy not to take just a few pictures.

The pair got off the ride and went on to the next one, then the next one, until they got hungry. Reggie texted Luke and Alex to find a place to meet up. They decided on the Be Our Guest restaurant. Once they all arrived, they felt underdressed. The restaurant looked exactly how you’d expect it to if you were living in the castle. The walls and tiles were yellow and blue, and the ceiling was painted with a renaissance-like picture. 

“You guys seriously couldn’t have picked a more low-key place to eat?” Luke grumbled. This kind of thing had never been his style. He “hated” talking about the Disney princesses, he said they were too “feminine” for him.

“We came for the vibe, not the reality, loser,” Alex said. Reggie and y/n shook their heads. Sitting down for a little bit was quite refreshing. All 4 of them ate all the food they ordered, and it was a lot. But hey, they need their energy! 

They sat in a little silence as they waited for their bill to arrive. They were all ready to go on more rides, but also ready for a nap. It’s too bad they were only spending the day there. A kick to the foot knocked y/n out of their daydream. “Ow,” they shouted.

“Oh sorry,” Alex said. “Me and Luke are going to be right back.” Y/n and Reggie looked at each other and laughed.

“Reggie, get your friends,” y/n laughed. Alex and Luke had been like this for a while now, and it was a little weird.

“I think they just went to take pictures,” Reggie shrugged. Y/n laughed.

“Yeah, of each other’s lips,” y/n said. Alex and Luke being a couple was always a theory that y/n and Reggie would talk about. After all, most times movie nights are with a group of people, not just with one person. Well it’s not like y/n and Reggie could speak on that either. They didn’t want Alex and Reggie to know about their relationship because they just wanted to keep it to themselves. 

Then the couple pair came back. Alex looked completely normal while Luke’s shirt was super wrinkled.... like as if someone was grabbing at it.

“So where did you two go,” y/n asked with a smirk. Bothering Alex when he’s flustered was always a funny sight. He would never be able to say a single thing without chuckling or running his fingers through his hair.

“We uh-” Luke had to pause to think. “We went to go find a map.” Then he pulled one out of his back pocket, which he totally had way before. Le-let’s go on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride,” He stuttered.

“Thought you don’t like that stuff,” Reggie smiled.

“Well now I do,” Luke said as he grabbed his stuff.

The walk to Adventureland was long, but funny. Reggie couldn’t stop talking about that one time he dressed up as Jack Sparrow for y/n’s costume party last year. The same costume party where y/n and Reggie expressed their feelings for each other. The same costume party where they purposely hid in the closet so that nobody would know that they were officially together. The same costume party that nobody knew the full story about. “Guys, it literally was like 7 minutes in heaven,” Reggie beamed. “I felt like I could’ve gotten married right there.”

“Hey Reggie, do you remember how we agreed to not talk about that party,” y/n lied. They never had an actual agreement. Y/n just thought that neither of them would get close to exposing the truth.

“No, y/n,” Alex put his hand up. “I want to hear this one.” Y/n gave Reggie the look, hoping he’d understand and stop talking. He didn’t.

“Are you and this person still together,” Luke asked. Stop egging him on!!

“Obviously,” Reggie smirked as he put his arm around them. 

“WHAT!” Alex and Luke yelled at the same time.

“I knew it, I knew it!” Alex cheered. 

“Can you guys shut up?” Y/n grumbled.

“Yeah, are you guys going to get on the ride,” the operator asked. Woops.

“My bad, y/n,” Reggie whispered. 

“It’s fine,” y/n said.

“It’s not fine,” Luke yelled. “This is huge, why didn’t you tell us?”

“You know what, Luke,” y/n turned around to face him. “In this ride there are probably real skeletons being used as props. If you don’t leave me alone I will donate yours to this ride when you die.” Luke sat back in his seat and fell silent. Saying things like that always worked with the guys. 

When they got to the battle part, Reggie reached to hold y/n’s hand in his. Y/n squeezed his. They weren’t mad at him, they already knew Reggie was an airhead. This would have happened one way or another.

The four of them decided to go on Splash Mountain next. Y/n did this on purpose. They knew none of the boys knew that they’d get splashed on the ride. Perfect payback.

“Luke and Alex, I think you guys should sit in the front for this one,” y/n smiled.

“Why,” Alex asked.

“What, you don’t want to be the first ones to see everything,” y/n said sarcastically. The two boys shrugged in response. 

They got into the raft with Luke and Alex sitting in the front and Reggie and y/n sitting right behind them. “So why are they sitting in the front,” Reggie whispered to them.

“It’s so that they’ll get splashed the most,” y/n laughed. And they did. On the first drop, they were moving their soaking wet hair out of the way of their eyes and screaming profanities. It didn’t help that there were little kids on the raft with parents yelling back at them to stop cursing. Y/n and Reggie sat back and laughed as their friends got soaked.

Luke and Alex were mad when they got off the ride and saw that y/n and Reggie were completely dry. “Y/n you did this on purpose,” Alex shouted.

“Yeah, I did,” y/n laughed. “So when were you guys going to tell us that you were dating?”

Alex and Luke’s jaws looked like they were going to hit the floor. “How did you know?” Alex asked

“You guys literally left us to go make out,” Reggie pointed out.

“Riiiiight,” Luke blushed.

“Yeah, so Reggie and I are going to go do ‘official couple’ things like go find Mickey and Minnie,” y/n smiled. “Let’s go, Reg.” 

Taglist:

@flashoe @carnationcreation @camihoran00 @joyjoyner @prongsy-parker

Add yourself to my taglist!

[samnatandsteve]

Nat gets Amnesia

 so @mockinghawk-romanogers asked for a fic of this based off a post of mine. it took a lot longer to get to than I planned thanks to university and life, and it’s not really the same as the of post but that’s okay. I like both of them. 

This is the post in question by the way: 

[Steve and the Bucky are in central Asia following a lead on a terrorist organization after Civil War][Nat and Sam are following other leads in central America, Nat got hurt and can't keep things straight in her mind]

Nat : *gets a long and well written love letter from Steve*Nat : awwww

Nat : *writes back* "you have a crush on me? That's embarrassing :P"

[A week later]

Steve : *calls Nat on burner phone only for emergencies* Nat, we're litterly married!

Nat : is that how I got your dog tags with your mom's ring on it?

Steve : yes! Don't you remember?

Nat : not really... did I look nice?

Steve : ....of course you did, can I talk to Sam?

Nat : why?

Steve : I need him to check something for me

Nat : what is it? I can do it

*Sam walks in, sees the phone, panicks, and grabs the phone*

Nat : hey!! What gives?

Sam : *trying to act nonchalant while shooting Nat away* hey man, what's up?

Steve : why doesn't my wife remember she's my wife?

Sam : whaaattttt? that's crazy!

Steve : is Nat hurt?

Sam : Not a cut

Nat : *in the background* tell the pizza man I want extra banana peppers on mine

Sam : *to Nat* sure thing

Steve : Sam what happened?

Sam : what do you mean?

Steve : what happen-

Sam : woops well look at that, times up, got to go! Tasha, say bye

Nat : why do I have to say goodbye to the pizza man?

Sam : because he likes you

Nat : likes likes?Sam : ohhh yeah

Steve : wait a minute Sa-

*Sam hangs up*

I can do the whole pizza man part in another one if you guys want me to. But this is the oneshot I whipped up today because I finally had the time and motivation :) 

-

They were on a mission in Brazil that of course brought them to the Amazon Rainforest and not only there but at a Hydra base right on the banks of the river itself. Hydra and their fucking cliches. Sam and Natasha went down there to do some snooping around - “Recon” as Tasha put it. Which of course quickly turned into “innocent intel gathering” as she put it in the middle of the night. Then one trip wire (fucking cliches) got them into a “good old fashion shoot out” as she so cheekly put it as she put a bullet in a Hydra goon’s head. Which may or may not have made Sam question Steve’s sanity for marrying such a scary woman. And they just in Brazil that morning, barely had any lunch and Sam’s stomach is really pissed at him. 

   But back to the point! Hydra, Amazon River, terrifying  woman for a partner, kicking Hydra goon ass all in the very humid and very yuckie air of the Amazon. Just one other reason to add to the list of “why I hate Jimmy”, Sam should've gone with scissors that last round, at least then he would be in Central  Asia and just  be dealing with the heat. 

They managed to get outside where they could get the upper hand,  mainly thanks to Tasha’s kick ass assassin skills. Now he was providing air support and Redwing was being awesome and finishing up the intel theft. 

So Tasha was on the ground kicking ass like only Sam could dream of doing, Sam was playing snipper and taking out stragglers and thinning them out for Tasha when suddenly Tasha was in the river face down and Sam was fighting to right himself midair with his ears ringing painfully.

Cold sweat ran down Sam’s back as the biting air rushed in his ears and brought tears to his eyes. He’s going to blame it on the wind if any of those Hydra idiots brought it up, because Sam Wilson does not cry for his friends, he was a stone cold certified bad bitch (by Tasha the queen of bad bitches herself) thank you very much. His stomach twists painfully making him want to throw up and he does and it’s just acid and it burns his throat and he hates today. 

In just another example of classical Hydra cliche, they blew up their little super secret base and bebrie hit Tasha, sending her into the river. His mind registers the fact that Redwing’s still connected to the goggles’ computer and online. Sam thanks the beings that be as he takes a swan dive to Tasha. One thing is for sure, Sam thought as he pulled Natasha out of the river, Steve will kill him if he finds out about this. 

“Redwing buddy tell me I didn’t just let cap become a widow.” The electronic drone bird chirps as they run away- make a strategic withdrawal into the night sky to their hotel room. Sam breathed a sigh of relief as her vitals popped up and he saw her steady heart beat. “Thank god! He still can’t know about this though!” Redwing chirps again as Sam readjusts the spy in his arms. “Well if she snitches we just have to go into hiding.” Another chirp. “Can you stop pointing out faults in my plan?” Silence. “Thank you.”  

Natalie grones as the light hits her eyes causing a pounding headache to erupt across her head. “What the fuck happened last night?” Her cold hand helped a bit when she held it against her forehead. A black man walked out of the bathroom with a hesitant smile on his face.

“Heyyy girl, how’re you feeling?” She  grunted in reply and she threw her bare legs over the side of the bed. Pausing, she looked down and raised an eyebrow, she had her underwear and tank top on. 

“Why the hell am I half naked with a hell of a hangover? Did we sleep together? You better have used protection!” She jabed her left index finger at the man who was still standing on the other side of the room by the desk. Her eyes caught the gold of her wedding band. “You better be my husband too, I am no cheat!” The man’s mouth went slack as his eyes went wide. 

“I broke her- Hydra broke her and I let them.” He started to ramble to himself, rubbing his hands over his head. Natalie pauses again, what the hell does a Nazi subdivison have to do with this? 

“I thought Captain America took care of those guys.” The man stopped and she could practically see the dread set in as she watched his back. Something in a bag on his side of the room chirped and he snapped at it to shut up. 

After a slew of questions the man, Sam, tells her she had memory loss and thinks she’s one of her covers for her job; A history teacher named Natalie Rushmen when she was really an intelligence agent named Natasha Rogers. They were on a mission in Brazil when she got hurt and they will not be leaving until she gets her memory because “Your husband will kill me if he finds out about this and as my friend you would be obliged to kill him and the whole thing would go down into history books and I don’t want to be in history books like that.” 

They stared into each other's eyes for a while, sweat running down Sam’s face as a smirk played on Natasha’s. She hummed, putting her head in her hand, finger tapping her chin,  pretending to mull it over. 

“Hmmm? What do you mean hmmm??” 

“He is my husband, and I like to think we-” 

“Then don’t think! Trust me, you love to pull shit over him, it's your favorite pastime!” 

“Okay” She got up and left him to get dressed “But i think my other favorite is to keep you on your toes.” She calls from the other side of the closed bathroom door. He flops onto the bed, rubbing his face. Thank god the mission was originally planned for a week and radio silent. 

_

A day later the front office stopped Natasha and gave her an envelope. Said envelope found its way into her purse quicker than a snitch in those Harry Potter books she was working through for the eleventh time according to Sam.   

 When she found the room to be empty and void of said man, she plopped onto her bed and opened the letter. A love letter from a guy trying to be mysterious by going by S - how sweet! But she was married and the most faithful wife-who-can’t-even-remember-her-spouse’s-face there ever was!  But she wasn’t a mean woman either, plus it was so nicely written, clearly S loved her a lot. And she was going to love breaking that big heart of his, gotta set her foot down. 

 So she got to writing her own letter complete with a lipstick kiss on the letter’s bottom corner next to her N.

“Dear S, 

Fuck you, I’m married. 

With nothing but love, 

      N <3” 

Short and to the point, just how she liked it. Smiling to herself with a bounce in her step, she hands her response to the young girl at the front desk, thanked her and went back into the room to watch some Brazilian dramas. The letter from S tucked away in her bag, she was going to ask Sam about it  later when he got back with dinner. 

But dinner came and went and the letter was left forgotten under one of her bras. That was until two days later when Sam got a call on a flip phone. Well the phone in his bag did and like always he way out, so she did the friendly thing of answering it when she saw the unsaved number thinking it was spam. 

“Hello, this is Cathrine from Bed Baths and Beyond, how can I help you on this wonderful day?” 

The midwestern American accent came easily to her as she played with her hair with the phone held in place with her shoulder and cheek 

“Nat what’s going on?” She doesn’t know how she knows but that was Mysterious Mr. S on the other end of the line. 

“Who the fuck do you take me for mr S?? I am married and I’ll bet twenty bucks you’re not even half the man my husband is!” She fished the letter out of her bag “I mean seriously! ‘Words cannot even begin to describe how beautiful you are, Aphrodite cannot even hope to compare.’ “ She reads the line in a high pitched mocking town. “Did you read that from ‘Pickup lines so used and abused even their mothers won’t recognize them’? I wouldn’t be caught dead with a man who thinks that’s the hot shit.” 

  There was a pause and Natasha had to check that he didn’t hang up. 

“What - I’m your husband! Me! Steve Rogers am your spouse!” 

“Yeah okay buddy nice try.” 

“Where’s Sam?” 

“Who’s Sam?” 

“Natasha please don’t, where’s Sam?” 

“He’s at work, doing accountant stuff with the numbers and shit.” 

“Sam barely passed algebra, he hates math.” 

Just  as about to call him a staker, Sam the man walked in with food. 

“Got you some waffles!” He did his best Donkey impression at the word waffles as he closed the door behind him. When he turned back he dropped the food and basically tackled her like a linebacker or something to get to the phone. - Point is it hurt her bruised and battered body.  “Give that to me woman!” 

“No!” 

“What’s going on with you two??” -Steve 

“Yes!” 

“I don’t wanna!” 

“I’ll buy you ice cream!” 

They pause in their battle for the phone. 

“Chocolate?” 

“I’m not a heathen like your husband.” 

“I heard that!” - Steve 

She let go, hand up and palms out in surrender. Sam put the phone to his ear.

“Heyyy Steve, whatsup man?” Sam shoved his unused hand into his armpit as he started to walk the length of the room. Nodding to the food to tell Natasha to start eating, which she does. So she watched him talk while eating her waffles far more entertained than she would be watching a Brazilan show. 

“Why doesn’t my wife remember me?” 

“You have a wife? Wow, congrats man! Who’s the lucky lady?” 

“The one you let get amnesia apparently.” 

“Amnesia-what?” 

Steve sighed on the other end.

“She hurt in any other way?” 

Sam shared a glance with Natasha who had booth cheeks stuffed with waffles. 

“Not a scratch.” 

“You sit on a throne of lies.” Natasha hisses. “I have three broken ribs Mr. S!” 

“What! Thre-!” Steve is sooo going to kill Sam. 

“Oh wow don’t you look at that! Time’s out, gotta go! Bye Steve!” And with a snap of the phone, the yelling voice of an angry husband is cut off. Sam joined Natasha at the table and started to eat his waffles. 

“Is that really my husband?” She pointed her fork at the phone laying on one of the twin beds. Sam nods as he poured syrup over his waffles. “What was I thinking?” 

“To this day I still can’t figure it out.” 

[hatsukeii]

Beautiful Trauma by Pink with Nishinoya, please!

Woop yess yeah angst is coming your way.

Okay I’m taking a break from matchups lol they’re getting harder to do because I do like a ton of them every day and like they’re GRUELLING HAVSJSGS they’re gonna be back but like I’m gonna focus on writing scenarios and maybe hcs for a bit then get right back to the matchups:)

Btw @artsamber I’m sorry I genuinely don’t know how marriage fics work and I don’t really see Nishinoya as someone that would lose interest after marriage, but I’ll try my best to incorporate your ideas into this fic!

(I’m legit trying my best to keep this as non explicit as I can because I’m keeping these for future uses if my English teacher ever tells me to write romance or something I can just pull up my blog and use scenarios-)

Beautiful Trauma// Nishinoya Yuu x Reader

Word count: 2000+

Warnings: Mild swearing

Nishinoya didn’t like feeling guilty. He hated the falling sensation he would get whenever he lied. The thought of having to hurt someone disgusted him. He was mostly an open book, it was as if you could read him word for word, everything expressed in those goofy facial expressions. He didn’t ask for much. He wanted someone who he could tease. Someone he could trust with his inner conflicts. Someone that could make him feel appreciated. Out of all the things however, he craved for excitement the most. Excitement that you weren’t able to give him. He loved you, he definitely loved you. But in a couple of years’ time, the spark that used to ignite whenever he looked at you, touched you, kissed you, it was gone. He tried to ignore the emptiness, grasping at any opportunity he could to regain those feelings. Going on more dates, inviting you to all his matches, bringing you over to his house every single week, he did everything he could Nothing worked. He no longer felt special. He had fought so hard for you, everything was all rainbows and unicorns, until it wasn’t. Until you became just another person for him. 

You still remember the exact moment you realised he had changed. It still goes through your mind till this day. It was New Year’s Eve. The two of you went out to watch the fireworks at midnight. His hand felt cold that night, not a trace of the usual warmth that embraced your hand perfect to be found.. It felt stale and frigid. He didn’t initiate his usual weird chatter, nor did he make an effort to talk to you at all. Every other couple at the venue was doing some lovey dovey crap, giving each other bone crushing hugs, or laying in their loved one’s lap, occasionally sneaking a kiss or two. Seeing that, you tried to sneak in some romance into your date. You turned towards him, leaning in and giving him a kiss. Your heart fell when he stayed still, not reacting to anything. He didn’t kiss back, he didn’t hold your hand, he didn’t even make an effort to play with your hair.  It was as if your kiss had absolutely no effect on him. You tried again, letting go of his hand and cupping his cheek. Still nothing. You pulled away, slightly disappointed at the lack of attention you were getting from him as he stared at you with bored eyes, dragging you down to sit next to him. This should’ve been a sign. A sign that something was wrong. However, you brushed it off. Maybe he was just feeling a bit sick that night.

The lack of attention went on for months. You would have to ask him out every week, just to be able to spend any quality time with him, and most of the time he’d decline, using the same three excuses every time.

“Sorry, I’m busy with volleyball.”

“Feeling a bit tired today, I’ll pass.”

“I have schoolwork, can’t come.”

The rare instances where he doesn’t decline your request, he’s completely indulged in his phone. As if there was something that was better than spending time with the one he loved that was on that godforsaken monitor. You would try poking him, shaking him, nudging him, everything you could possibly do to gain his attention. In return, all you’d receive was an irritated groan or your hand being picked up and put back onto your lap, followed by a wave of depression hitting you by surprise as he continues to scroll mindlessly through his phone. You were tired of this, your gut telling you to just break it off with him. However you were hopeful. Too hopeful. You continued to cling onto the last shred of hope you had in that attention lacking heart of yours, praying that by spending enough time with him, he would go back to his old self. The Nishinoya that she fell in love with. The one that gave her kisses on her cheek, squeezed her hand whenever he held it, cried with her during hard times, pushed her on the swings in an abandoned park. She continued to look forward to a day, where he would once again greet her at her doorstep before walking to school together. That day never came.

Half a year. Half an entire year of hiding his inner conflicts. Nishinoya was done keeping it in. He had to tell you one way or the other anyways. He was sick of seeing how disappointed you’d get after he ignored you time and time again. He was drowning in his own guilt throughout the never-ending six months. That pit of regret that dug itself in his stomach made him want to just rip everything to pieces and scream into a void. He didn’t want to see you like this, but quite frankly there was nothing he could do. His feelings were slowly fading, and they weren’t coming back. Everything that seemed bright in the world went dull as he pondered over his own emotions in his room. Letting out a feral yell, he sent all the books and papers on his desk flying to the floor, ripping some up and stomping on them. “WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO? HUH? I CAN’T DO THIS TO HER! I can’t... I can’t hurt her like that.” He grabbed at his hair, pulling at it as he slid down the wall hopelessly, choking out strained sobs and screams as tears poured from his eyes. He was beyond frustrated. He definitely didn’t want to hurt you by telling you how he felt, however hiding it wouldn’t do any good either. In fact, the longer he hid it, the more affected by it you would be. He had made his mind. He was going to tell you the truth the next day, but at what cost? He was scared, definitely. He could already picture what would happen. He would tell you his conflicts, and you two would end it there, with both of you crying and leaving for different classes. He would probably do terribly during practice, maybe even skip it for once, and you would probably go home and cry. It would hurt him to tell you, but it was for the best.

You weren’t feeling ecstatic the next day, although you should’ve been. In your bag, was a framed polaroid, along with a tiny note attached to it, stuffed in between your lunchbox and textbooks. You made sure not to let the note crumple up. That was something important. Your friends teased you about it, calling you a hopeless romantic, lovestruck schoolgirl, and a variety of different romance tropes. All you could do was nod and laugh dryly, and pray they didn’t see the frown on your face throughout the whole day. During lunch, you scanned the cafeteria for your partner, finally landing your eyes on his tiny figure. He was in the very back of the lunch line, scrolling through his phone, again. You took a deep breath, grabbing the polaroid and treading towards him. “Nishinoya, can I talk to you alone for a bit?” The boy’s eyes glanced towards you, before he cracked a fake grin. “Uh sure thing.” You pulled him out of the lunch line, guiding him to behind a random stairwell, leaning on the wall with the framed photo in hand.

“So, for our second anniversary, I made you this. I hope you like it.” Nishinoya froze, before his eyes widened, his mouth slowly opening. “I- I’m so sorry (Y/N), I completely forgot about this! Oh lord I’m so dumb oh god-” He stopped for a moment. This was the perfect opportunity to tell you. You two were finally alone, he could just get it done and over with. He thought about it a bit more. Would it be too much for you? He had already forgotten about you guys’ anniversary, whilst you made an effort to make him something. He decided against it. He would do it another day. “Yuu, it’s okay, Don’t worry about it. Just read the note when you get back. I gotta go eat now, see you around.” And with that, you made your way back to your table. NIshinoya’s heart clenched. He felt terrible. He really hid the fact that he was losing interest from you for months, whilst you continued to believe that he loved you with his whole heart. He stared at the polaroid in his hand. It was from when you two had your first date in a pink cafe. That was the first time he ever kissed you in public. Inside of the frame, was a piece of paper folded into a tiny square. That was the note you were talking about. He let out a heavy sigh, returning to the cafeteria as well.

The note was now in his hands, still folded in that neat square. When school ended, you didn’t wait for Nishinoya like you usually did. Instead, he saw you walk away with another friend, who was patting your back as you were hunched over slightly. His heart dropped. Thank the lords he decided not to tell you today. Polaroid frame in hand, he examined everything. Maybe there was some hidden message behind this. Maybe she wrote something on the back of the polaroid too, instead of just writing a note. He took a few minutes to just observe the framed photo, before giving up and shoving it back into his bag. There was nothing weird or suspicious about it. It was just a normal polaroid. He walked home alone, not waiting for Tanaka. He felt like absolute shit, head hanging low as he walked towards his house, hands in his pocket. The second he got to his room, he threw everything to the floor, scrambling for the framed polaroid and pulling out the untouched note. He opened the note up, to see a neatly written message. It wasn’t just a note, it was a whole letter.

Dear Yuu,

I expected this already, so don’t be sorry. I knew you were going to forget. You’ve changed, everyone could see. Because of that, there’s something I need to tell you.

I’m breaking it off here.

Nishinoya’s eyes widened as he gripped the paper tightly with his now shaky hands. “No way....”

I know you might be confused as to why I’m doing this. But hear me out. I can see that you’ve changed. For the past months you’ve been uninterested. You haven’t been like the old Yuu since New Year’s Eve.

I love you, I do, but I can’t bear to see you force yourself into continuing this facade. It’s been two years, this isn’t a surprise to me. I don’t want you to feel obligated to stay with me against your heart’s desire. I’d rather you be happy with the relationship. Please. Let’s just end it here. It was beautiful while it lasted, but now it’s just trauma for me. I hope this anniversary gift is good enough. Goodbye.

Love,

(Y/N)

Tears streamed down the boy’s face as he re-read the letter again. Nothing changed. You had said what you said and Nishinoya felt terrible. He should’ve known you would be able to read through him. He should’ve just told you from the start, instead of keeping it in like a coward. Putting the letter down, he grabbed his bag, and threw it across the room, letting it land to the ground with a thud as his laptop and his textbooks spilled out. “NISHINOYA YUU WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?” Ah, of course, it was his mom. “NISHINOYA STOP MAKING SO MUCH NOISE!” The short boy ignored her, continuing to let his anger out. He threw all the books from his shelf onto the wooden floor, ripped up pieces of homework, and threw the polaroid to the ground, jumping on it and cracking the glass. He wasn’t mad at you. He was frustrated with himself. He was furious at his own cowardice, that led to him breaking your heart. “Why? It shouldn’t have been like this! I should’ve apologised to her before any of this happened! We might’ve had a chance!”

He continued to massacre his bedroom, throwing everything at his wall and breaking anything he possibly could get his hands on. His legs felt tired from stomping and jumping and his arms ached from ripping everything. He fell back, landing on his ass as he cradled his face in his hands, sobbing uncontrollably. He wanted to lie to himself. Tell himself there was nothing he could do about it. Convince himself that he had already tried his best.

But deep down, he knew that he just didn’t try hard enough, and now, the two years you guys spent together, where he loved every single minute of, was nothing but a beautiful trauma.

Tags:

@sunshines-and-tatertots @izzyphantomgamer @tokyoghoose @artsamber @trashcanweeb @inlwlevi @tiger1719 @mariechan123 @random-fandomlover @kaylacinderella @burnt-tomato @macaronnv @talks-a-lot-of-stuff @just-another-bored-writer @ewfilthymundane @agentvicinity

Comment or dm to be in taglist!!

Okay this is actually so bad I’m sorry idk I just hate this with a passion and I think it’s terrible but I hope you liked it🥺😔💕

References:

Beautiful Trauma lyrics on genius

Comments on the music video

My overanalysing brain

[ijustwant2write]

My Beliefs-Aziraphale x Reader x Crowley

(GIF credit to @uuuhshiny​)

Masterlist

Anonymous requested: ‘Hi, can i request an imagine with Crowley and Aziraphale with an Ex-Jehovas witness that’s now atheist as their s/o? And like their s/o freaks out a bit because did they really Get disowned just to find out that god is real? Preferably Poly but write whatever you’re comfortable with!’

Characters: Aziraphale x Reader (platonic), Crowley x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Mentions of religion/faiths, disbelief/atheist, some swearing

(A/N: I didn’t write them as a relationship and also I try not to mention beliefs within these religions, as I myself am not religious and do not know enough to write about them)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Aziraphale?” (Y/N) called out in the book shop, seeing as there were no customers.

“Yes?” his voice was muffled, due to being stuck behind a pile of books in his hands.

(Y/N) walked out from behind the bookshelf, seeing her friend in need of some assistance. She quickly took half of the books before they could topple out of his hands. He smiled, thanking her with a sigh of relief before going back to what he was doing.

“I don’t want to sound too...well, forward when I ask this. But how are you so amendment that God is real?” 

Aziraphale was surprised by his friend’s question, especially since they had not spoken for a half hour.“I suppose I believe in His mysterious ways. There have been times where I feel as if God has been by my side, He has guided me through hard times.”

“Hm.” (Y/N) hummed, thinking over his answer.

“And why would you ask that?”

“I saw my friends the other day. I haven’t really spoken to them since I stopped believing in my faith, which isn’t right, I know. And it just got me thinking...I used to be such a strong believer, and then suddenly someone I love dies...all those things they tell you, it didn’t happen. I didn’t feel anything, I didn’t feel that God was beside me, or at least watching me.”

Aziraphale felt his body stiffen, a slight tension rising in the room; not because she didn’t believe in a religion, but he knew it had been a difficult time when she expressed her true feelings. She wanted it all to be true, however, death was too much, it was cruel. Why hadn’t God (or anyone up there) helped her through the grief? Aziraphale had seen this too many times, and it saddened him that his Lord was no longer inspiring the people on Earth, He made them question everything.  

“I’m sorry.” (Y/N) waved her free hand, dismissing the conversation.“It was a very sudden and topical question, I shouldn’t have asked you that.”

“No, no, no.” Aziraphale kindly smiled at her, placing down his books and removing the pile from hers.“My dear, I understand how you feel, and you shouldn’t beat yourself up about it either.”

“I’ve spent my whole life like that. Then last year it all changed. I don’t know why I’ve been thinking about it recently.”

“You’ve settled into a routine, you’re mind is at ease to think about whatever it wants. And at this moment, it wants to gain knowledge as to why you left that part of your life.”

“It would be nice to have a sign, from a religious side or not, to see if it is real you know? Finally bring peace to my thoughts.”

Aziraphale shared one last smile as (Y/N) walked away, going back to organising the books. It quickly disappeared as he thought about his friend’s words. He was an angel, he was full proof that there was a God. Yet cruel irony forbid him to reveal himself. What if she took it the wrong way? Perhaps (Y/N) would think it was all a joke, or she would freak out, accuse him of keeping such a secret. Religion was a huge thing, it had started wars for God’s sake. But (Y/N) wasn’t herself, and the fact that Aziraphale could help her (though shouldn’t) gave him a headache thinking about it.

As he tried to come up with a plan, the door was loudly opened, a striking Crowley sauntering in. He lowered his glasses, revealing the yellow snake eyes for just a few seconds before he pushed them back up his nose. No one was here, but best not risk it. 

“Angel! Business does not seem to be booming.” He loudly announced himself.

Aziraphale jumped at the sound of his voice, frantically looking around for (Y/N) as he made his way to the front of the shop. He shushed his demon friend as he scurried towards him.

“This isn’t a library Aziraphale, people can make noise in here.”

“It’s not that, there’s someone else here.”

“Ah, right. Woops.”

“It’s (Y/N). I need to speak to you about her.”

“Didn’t tale you as one for having crushes.”

Aziraphale fluttered his hands about.“No! Nothing like that. It’s about her religion.”

“Ooo, that could be a touchy subject. Haven’t had a serious conversation in a while.”

He gestured for Crowley to follow him, tucked away at the back of the bookshop. Crowley wasn’t nearly as skittish as his angel companion, enjoying the shenanigans that was about to pursue.

“Did she catch you speaking with upstairs then?” Crowley smirked, knowing he would get under Aziraphale’s feathers.

“(Y/N) asked me why I think God is real.”

“How did you go about that then?”

“I told her how I felt.”

“You don’t mean-”

“No, I didn’t tell her who I am, who we are! But-”

“Ah, there’s a but.”

“But,” Aziraphale clenched his hands together, almost in a prayer-like fashion,“would it be so bad just to tell her?”

“Why would you do that?”

“She’s lost her way Crowley, (Y/N) is different than she used to be.”

“I suppose she has been sadder as of late.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen her smile for two weeks.”

They both glanced at their friend, who hadn’t noticed them yet. Her shoulders slumped, eyes not as bright as they used to be, and although she still dressed nicely, it wasn’t as immaculate as her usual outfit; small signs others wouldn’t notice, but Aziraphale and Crowley did. Crowley quietly groaned, knowing that neither of them should be doing this, though at the same time he wanted to. Not only to piss off those down below, he had a soft spot for (Y/N). She had never questioned them when they rushed off suddenly, she never asked questions as to where they had been, or when they had returned tried and stressed. All she had done was be there for them. It was only right they do the same.

“Right, come on, let’s do this.” Crowley stated, already making his way towards (Y/N).

“W-wait, Crowley! We need to come up with a plan.” Aziraphale attempted to pull him back, huffing when that failed.

(Y/N) felt someone watching her, and she flinched back when she saw Crowley storming towards her. She smiled, relieved some creep hadn’t just walked in (it was surprising how many of those you got in a book shop, like the man who announced he was buying pornography to everyone), greeting her friend. He looked mischievous, he was at his best that way. It still baffled her how two different people such as themselves were friends. You know what they say, opposites attract.

“(Y/N), we would like to have a word with you, a serious one.” Crowley said, leaning against the bookshelf beside her.

“Good morning Crowley, that was a very abrupt statement. What would you like to speak about?”

“Aziraphale just informed me that leaving your faith has been bothering you.”

Aziraphale held up a finger, butting in.“Ah, I did not mean that in vain, it was just a concern of mine.”

(Y/N) sighed.“It’s alright. It’s actually sweet.” 

“Well, we want to help.”

“That’s really OK guys. It would be nice to get back into believing again, I just don’t know what will convince me to do so.”

Crowley looked at Aziraphale, smiling at his worried expression. The angel could see that he was going to do this without a plan, without discussing how they were going to go about it. Before Aziraphale could even open his mouth to object, Crowley had dived into the deep end.

“Aziraphale and I want to tell you something.”

“Yes?”

“I am a demon and he is an angel.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened, nerves building as he watched for (Y/N)’s reaction. She chuckled, unsure of the game Crowley was playing. Were they just trying to cheer her up? It was an odd way to go about it, but so were these gentlemen she called her friends.

“Um...OK. Is this supposed to be a joke, cause I’m not getting it?”

“Ignore him (Y/N),” Aziraphale pushed Crowley back, standing where he just was,“he thinks he’s funnier than he really is.”

“Excuse you-”

“Not now Crowley!”

“Why are you so worked up over this? Did you guys argue before this?” (Y/N) asked, wondering why Aziraphale was so tense.

“No, we’re being serious, it’s a serious situation, that’s why he’s so....seriously tense.” Crowley explained, though it made no sense to (Y/N).

“Right....I still don’t see the point of this.”

“Come on,” Crowley briskly picked up his friend’s coats from the rack, carelessly throwing it at them,“it’s much easier to show her than tell her.”

“You’re going to show me that you’re an angel and a demon?” (Y/N) scoffed.

“Precisely. Chop chop.”

They scrambled after Crowley, Aziraphale having to lock up with lightening speed. Crowley was already in his Bentley, (Y/N) being shoved in the back as the men were in the front. She noticed Aziraphale’s worrisome glances at Crowley, who seemed perfectly relaxed as he drove like a crazy man. With her fingers gripping into the seats, (Y/N) thought about what had been said. Neither one of them would joke about religion, especially to her. So what was this all about? Where were they taking her? She had never had any bad or threatened thoughts about them, but they seemed to be getting deeper into the forest, and for some reason it unnerved her.

Crowley slammed on the brakes, nearly giving Aziraphale and (Y/N) a heart attack. He casually got out the car, already walking away, off the road and into the forest. (Y/N) shrugged at Aziraphale, following after them. Nothing was said as they caught up with each other, both of them staring at Crowley when he stopped walking. Still in silence, they waited for someone to say something, though it seemed no one knew where to go from there. 

“Well?” Crowley spread him arms out.

“Well what? You’re the one who drove us out here.” (Y/N) said.

“Stand here Aziraphale.” 

The angel sighed, reluctantly doing as he said. (Y/N) crossed her arms over her chest, she couldn’t wait to see what they had up their sleeves. They had stood quite far back, arguing with each other under their breaths. She laughed, thinking that this might be a surprise they planned to cheer her up; she wouldn’t get her hopes up too soon. Just as (Y/N) was about to yell out to them, telling them to ‘hurry up’, the men stood slightly further apart, their eyes on her.

“OK, let’s see it then.” She called out, starting to get cold.

She waited to see what they were going to do, not having any as to what it could be. The breeze was picking up, rustling the leaves that were hanging onto the tree as winter arrived, it was almost as if an atmosphere was building; (Y/N) scoffed at that idea.

“Just...prepare yourself, my dear. It may be a shock.” Aziraphale shouted.

(Y/N) held out a thumbs up, nodding her head.“Don’t worry, I think I’m ready for this.”

Whatever the hell this might be.

Her eyes were glued on them, waiting to see what was about to happen. The men glanced one last time at each other, seeming focused, in their own zone for a few seconds. Emerging elegantly from their shoulder blades were a pair of wings, your stereotypical angel wings, feathers and everything. (Y/N) gasped loudly, stumbling back and tripping over her own feet. With a thud to the ground, she laid there for a moment, staring up at the sky peeking through the trees.

What. The. Fuck.

No. No this wasn’t happening. She didn’t believe in any of this. This couldn’t be true. Even if she did still believe, would she be seeing things like this? But what if this was the sign? The sign she had been waiting for, to let religion back into her life. Hold on, back to the two men she thought she knew.

Sitting up, she held up a finger before either could talk.“Guys, what...wh-what....I actually don’t know what to say.”

They slowly approached her, Crowley speaking first.“We did tell you.”

“OK, you know how crazy ‘I’m a demon, he’s an angel’ sounds right?”

“Yeah well...it’s true isn’t it?”

“Yes...I can see that.”

Aziraphale helped her stand, wings still spread.“I’m sorry that we couldn’t tell you sooner. But we aren’t really supposed to.”

“Yeah the people upstairs and downstairs probably won’t like it.”

“Upstairs and down...like, heaven and hell?”

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Aziraphale had a calm tone to his voice,“but I thought it would help you with your faith. You seemed like you wanted to believe again, but don’t feel that this should be your reason why.”

“Plus, it was time for you to know.” Crowley added.

“That’s so kind of you. I mean, it’s a lot to get my head around.”

“Yes, the wings are a bit much.”

“No, they’re beautiful. It explains quite a bit actually.”

“I have an idea!” Crowley announced.“Let’s put the wings away, everyone can collect themselves, and we choose a fancy place for lunch.”

“That seems to be your solution for everything.” Aziraphale smiled.

“And it works every time!”

“Wait,” (Y/N) interrupted,“is that where you two disappear off to all the time.”

They shared a look before sighing, Crowley patting (Y/N)’s shoulder.“Oh, the things we have to tell you.”

[fireinmoonshot]

REBEL | ARMITAGE HUX x READER | PART TEN

CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE RISE OF SKYWALKER.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE | PART SIX | PART SEVEN | PART EIGHT | PART NINE Summary: Armitage Hux finds himself strangely fascinated by you, a Resistance fighter and pilot, even though he knows he shouldn’t. You know that there’s much more to him than you see on the surface. Pairing: female!Reader x Armitage Hux Fandom: Star Wars Word Count: 3657 Warnings: THE RISE OF SKYWALKER SPOILERS, mentions of death. A/N: Woop, woop! We’ve hit the milestone of ten parts – but the fun is not over yet. I love this part. I mean, I love it so much. I think it’s the most fun I’ve had writing a part since the early parts that followed the storyline of TROS. I hope you’ll all enjoy it just as much, especially because I know that you guys have been looking forward for them to head to Arkanis ever since I mentioned it forever ago. Thank you for all the love so far, so excited for what you’ll think of this one and beyond! Read it on Ao3 here.

The rain, Armitage notices, smells different on Arkanis. It’s cooler, much more fresh, crisper and nicer. But overall, the planet doesn’t smell like he expected it to smell, it doesn’t smell like home, it doesn’t smell like forgotten memories. It doesn’t look like he expected it to look.

It’s raining when the two of you settle the ship down on the ground, as he expected it would be. He’s used to rain after living on Ajan Kloss for a month. This rain, it’s something different. Where Ajan Kloss is humid rain, Arkanis is cold rain. The moment he steps out of the ship with you by his side, the chill air causes goosebumps to arise on his arms.

“This is… not what I was expecting,” Armitage speaks as he looks at the rain falling around him. He’s still under the cover of the ship, but some of the spray still wets his arms and the bottom of his trousers.

“What were you expecting?”

“Not this. I didn’t expect this much rain. Rain, yes, but not this much of it. That sounds rather silly now that I say it, but I’m hoping you know what I mean. I just mean it’s nothing like how I remembered it,” he admits, looking out at the city around him. “This place I’m standing now, the things I’m looking at, I feel like I should remember them. I feel like I should have a connection with this place, but instead I’m looking at it now, and I don’t.”

You cross your arms as you look out at the planet you called home. It does look different, just like Rey had said it would be. You didn’t realise it had been this long since you’d been home. And really, could you even call it your home anymore?

“We’ve only just touched down. There’s plenty of time to start remembering things, or to not remember things at all,” you nudge him.

Arkanis reminds you a little of Kef Bir – only because of the overcast sky and the sound of water, but rain here instead of the ocean. And this time, you’re here with Armitage by your side too. It’s a nice sort of full circle.

“Come on, let’s get going. It took longer than I’d have liked for us to get here and I want to get started as soon as possible.” You step off the ship and out into the rain, narrowly avoiding a muddy puddle to your right. “And I want to see what you remember, or what you don’t.”

You flash him a grin, and Armitage lets out a breathy laugh in reply as he follows you off the ship. The ramp closes behind you, and he follows your lead away from it and down the hill towards the city.

Into the city he once called home.

–

It’s nearly midday when the two of you finally make it into the city. It’s not busy outside, which you blame on the constant rainfall that hasn’t let up since you arrived. It’s one of the only things that you remember as being the same – the rain. When the two of you find a small bar after a few minutes of wandering, that is where you find probably all of the inhabitants of the city.

You’ve never been in here before – and for good reason. You were too young and too preoccupied with flying, and then you’d left Arkanis and thought it would be for good. It feels a little bittersweet, being back.

“What’s our plan, then?” Armitage asks you as you walk towards the bar to order.

“Well, have a drink, settle ourselves, get some energy back from the early start, and then we just start a conversation. Tell them who we are, why we’re here in Arkanis, start talking. It all depends on whether they’re willing to open up to us and let us help them if they need it.”

Arkanis hadn’t been hit so hard by the First Order. It was relatively out of the way, settled firmly in the Outer Rim, and the New Republic had held a firm grip on it for as long as it could. It still remained a wealthy planet because of it, but by the looks of it now, things had changed a little. Things had been changing when you’d left, but you hadn’t noticed them. You’d been too focused on the future ahead of you.

But the First Order had reigned terror over every planet, no matter how strong.

You slide into a seat by the bar and Armitage joins you.

There are people staring at him. He notices.

“What’ll you have?” A woman stares at the two of you from across the bar.

You hesitate. “Uh– two– two moof juices? Please.”

She nods, and then disappears off to get them for the both of you.

Armitage clears his throat. “Everybody in here is staring at us.” He speaks, leaning in close so that only you can hear him. “I think some of them know who I am. Perhaps I should go back and wait in the ship.”

“No, you’re just as important here as I am. We do this together.” You assure him.

His suspicions are confirmed only a few moments later as someone taps him rather harshly on the shoulder, and instinctively, he turns around to look at him.

It’s a large man – taller than him, and bigger in size and frame, too, and Armitage nearly balks at the sight of him. He can’t at all be entirely human. He narrows his eyes as he looks at Armitage’s face, and then turns around and looks at a group of other men and women sitting on a table by the door.

“It is ‘im an’ all, knew it from the secon’ I saw ‘im,” he shakes his head. “You, you’re First Order. Thought the lot o’ you went down in that big fight. How come you made it ou’ alive then, eh? How come you’re posin’ as Resistance?”

Armitage stumbles over his words, and it’s exactly what the man wants.

“You both First Order, then?” His gaze switches to you. “Both posin’ as Resistance, both tryin’ to hide from the rest of the world now that you’ve lost everythin’? ‘Bout time, in my opinion. You ain’t got no place here on Arkanis. Get outta here, both o’ you.”

You shake your head and go to stand. “No, we’re not First Order. He was, but he’s now on our side – he helped us win. We’re here to help with the recovery. To talk and help you find normality again in any way we can.”

The man snorts. “‘Ere to ‘elp with the recovery? Yeah, bollocks.”

“No, really, sir–“

Armitage makes the mistake to stand in a paltry attempt to defend you as the other man takes a step towards you. He regrets his decision just before he lands firmly in a rather deep puddle of water outside the bar, his knees, legs and arms soaked. He groans as the impact takes full force.

You land somewhere beside him, equally soaked, and turn to stare up at the sky – the rain has eased off a little, not much, but a little. And you’re soaked from the puddle anyway, so what does it matter?

“That… did not go as planned.”

He pushes himself to his feet. “I apologise. That was my fault.”

It was a bad idea for him to join you on this trip to Arkanis, even though it had been your idea that the both of you go there together anyway. He’d thought he’d made a good choice in tagging along… but now he just feels shame.

Shame that you are here to help, and he is here to hinder.

He holds a hand out toward you. You take it and accept the help to stand.

“It is not your fault. They’d probably be weary of me if it were just me, anyway,” you shake your head, and then look down at your water soaked shoes. “I have an idea for what we can do instead. At least until some of the locals agree to cooperate.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Change out of these wet clothes?”

“Well, yes. But after that, I’m going to take you on a small tour. Where we hopefully won’t have to run into any locals and get thrown in puddles again. But we might end up accidentally stepping in some anyway.”

He’s confused. “Care to tell me where you’re taking me?”

You meet his eyes and smile. “I’m going to take you to where I grew up.”

–

As soon as you’re out of your wet clothes and dry – or as dry as you can be on a rainy planet – you both leave the confines of the ship again and, instead of heading off down towards the main city, you lead Armitage away from it towards a large, dreary looking forest.

He’s intrigued by your promise – you taking him to where you grew up. It had been the last thing he expected, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t interested about your life here on Arkanis. He’d been gone by the time you were born, since he’d left when he was five, but you’d been here longer than he had been. And he had noticed that you talked about it less. That you skirted around things and thought he didn’t notice.

He does. He notices everything.

Most of all, he notices that you never talk about specifics. You never said why you left Arkanis to join the New Republic Defense Fleet. You never said why you started to learn how to fly or what you did in your spare time while you learnt.

Armitage Hux knows a lot about you, but there were things he doesn’t. Things he wants to know. It works both ways – there are things about him that you don’t know. But they’re the same things he doesn’t know if he wants you to know.

He walks a little behind you as you lead him away from the city and into the forest. The brush above you stops the rain a little, though the ground is still wet and a little muddy and he’s hoping his shoes won’t get stuck.

It feels like you’ve both been walking for hours, and he truly believes that you might have been, when he sees something up ahead.

The place… it looks like a house. But it also doesn’t resemble one at all. It’s round, but one side of it is crumbled to the ground, entirely destroyed, and the other half looks like it’s never been touched. And it’s small – smaller than he’d expected.

“Is this…?”

You nod as you stop in front of it. “This was home. It hasn’t been for a long time.”

Armitage stops beside you, crosses his arms over his chest, looks up at the destroyed house. Where he’d lived on Arkanis, he didn’t know. And it wasn’t like there was anyone he could ask. But he’d expected your home to be… intact. You’ve never said otherwise.

“I know, it’s a bit of a mess,” you smile sheepishly up at him. “But after it was destroyed, I moved away. I got a small room in the city which was closer to where I was being taught to fly. I didn’t have the nerve or the funds to fix it, so I left it.”

He stares at you for a moment, confused. “What about your family?”

“They’re dead – my parents. They died.” You speak simply, and then you feel the need to tell him how and why. And it’s strange – because you’ve never really told anyone, only Poe and Leia, but you’re here with Armitage, and he is the first person seeing the remnants of what your life on Arkanis had been, and you feel like you owe it to yourself to be honest. “When the New Republic took hold of Arkanis, things were fine for a few years. But as time went on, there were some Imperial loyalists still here, floating around, causing trouble when nobody was watching. I was sixteen, and my parents had stood up for someone at the market. Someone who these Imperial loyalists were targeting for their belief in the New Republic. And then, later that night, when I was out flying with my instructor, those same loyalists came here… and did this.”

Armitage feels like his heart is in his throat.

“They did– they did this?”

“Yes.”

He’s never wanted to hug anybody more than you right now. But you’re pretending like everything didn’t happen moments after telling him everything he didn’t know he wanted to know. You’re turning away from the house and taking a deep breath and thanking him for listening. And he can’t bring himself to do it like you would. All he can think about is how grateful he is. How grateful he is that you opened up to him. That he is the first and only person to see the place first hand.

And then things fall back to normal just as rain starts to seep through the leaves above you once more. You’ve forgotten almost entirely about the words you’d spoken, the truth you’d let him into, and you’re back to thinking about your mission.

“I don’t think we’re going to get anymore out of these people today,” you say, looking back towards the city even though all you can see is trees. “We should try again tomorrow. We might have more luck then.”

Armitage, not for the first time, decides not to push.

–

You sit your empty container from dinner down on the grass beside you and lean back against the ramp of the ship. Arkanis looks beautiful out in front of you. The rain has fallen back to a light drizzle, and in the distance you can see the lights of the city, shining brightly. It makes you smile. You can remember seeing that view from your room years ago. It’s different now, but it still carries the same sense of comfort as it always did.

“It’s beautiful here,” you hum.

After the day you’ve had, you’re happy to just have a moment to breathe and feel calm for a second. Even though Arkanis is your home, you’d felt a little out of place all day, and this is the first place you feel like it’s home again… in some way, anyway.

Armitage isn’t looking at the city when he agrees with you.

He’s looking at you.

But then you glance over at him and he tears his eyes away and finally settles them on the lights in the distance. You weren’t going to venture into it again tonight, and your plan of finding a bed in the city was pretty much destroyed by your being thrown out of the bar earlier in the day, and so the ship remained your base.

“So, tell me – what do you remember about this place? Have you remembered anything during our day here?

“Not as much as I would have liked to.”

He looks off into the distance. He remembers that ridge in the mountains, he used to be able to see it from his bedroom window, but from where he sits right now, that’s all he can remember. It’s a little disheartening.

“Well… I used to fly over those mountains,” you start to explain. “When I was just learning, the woman who taught me would challenge me to fly up, out and around them all and be back within a set amount of time. I used to ace it.”

Armitage’s lips quirk up. “I somehow don’t doubt that at all.”

“I’m an incredible pilot, you’ve witnessed it first hand. But I’m not going to go into detail about the time that I nearly crashed an X-wing between those mountains over there.” You point over to the left and Armitage looks at where you point.

“Mmm, probably better to keep my good opinion of you.”

“Oh, there are things I could tell you about me growing up here… I’ll save it, though.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Save it for when?”

“For when we come back.”

Your words take him off guard. “We’re coming back?”

“Uh-huh.” You’re nodding excitedly. “I mean, the locals might not like us very much. But this is home, right? Well, one of them. Whenever we win over the locals, they’ll beg to have us back. And we’ll have to choice but to come back and grace them with our presence.���

He snorts. “I don’t think anyone could say I grace their presence.”

You shrug a shoulder. “You’ve graced mine.”

He nearly chokes on air itself.

He should say something. He can’t think of anything worthy. So, he stays silent. Stares down at the ground in front of him and fiddles with the edges of his own empty container. And he can feel you looking at him, but he can’t bring himself to look up at you. He’s worried about what you’ll see if he does.

And then, you break the silence – by thankfully changing the subject.

“Arkanis, then. Would you live here again? Work here? Find a life here?”

He chooses to stare out at the city as he answers.

“If you’d asked me that when we first got here, I would have said yes. But now, I’m not sure if I could. I think I would be better finding a planet I’ve never been to before. A planet that the First Order never even thought of touching. And then settling myself there in silence.” He pauses. “A place where nobody looks at me like the people here did this morning.”

His words break your heart a little. But you know where he’s coming from – you’d seen those looks in the eyes of the people in the bar. Half of them had been directed at you, and the Resistance uniforms hadn’t saved you from them – hadn’t saved Armitage from them. Still, they found him. Still, those eyes tore down the walls he’d been building up for the past month to cover the First Order part of him.

You can already see him starting to rebuild them.

“You have Ajan Kloss for as long as you want it. You know that, right?”

He nods. Once.

You take that as your cue to slowly shuffle over closer to him, so you’re sitting right beside him. You nudge him with your elbow, and finally he looks at you again.

There’s a look in his eyes you’ve never seen before.

“It’s not going to be like this forever. The strange looks, the judgemental people. It’s just like this for now. And soon enough, things will change and the First Order will just be a bad memory. And you’ll be free to live the life you want to without fear of others judging you for it.”

Armitage looks down at you, looks into your eyes, and his lips quirk up into the smallest of smiles, but you still see it. And your words – they’re words that he wanted to hear, but words he didn’t know he wanted to hear. It’s like they’ve travelled straight to his heart and hit home.

Because a different Armitage wouldn’t have believed in them. But him – this Armitage, the one he is now, the one he’s happy to be, does. He believes them. He has to. He has to believe that the First Order is soon going to be nothing but a bad memory. He has to believe that there will soon be better. That better will come.

You smile sweetly up at him then, and his breath catches in his throat.

He’s looking at you… and you’re looking at him, and something travels between you both in that small moment. And then, Armitage starts to lean in – instinctively. He’s never done this before. He’s never felt a feeling like this before… but he hopes he’s doing the right thing… not overstepping. He wonders if he should ask. He wonders if that would ruin the moment. But no– he should ask. He’s going to ask– and then he notices that you’re doing the same as he is. And–

Something thumps on the grass a few feet away from you, and he jumps. His eyes flicker between you and the source of the noise, and the moment is gone just as quickly as it came. His chance disappears before he even realises it’s gone.

A woman pulls herself up from the grass where she’s just fallen. She looks over at the both of you a little sheepishly. “It’s muddy there– watch your feet if you walk there.”

You glance at her, and then back at Armitage– and your mind whirs with the possibility of what was just about to happen. And… of course there was an interruption.

“I was in the bar this morning,” the woman continues, “and I heard what you were talking about. I didn’t want to say anything then, but I saw you two leaving the market earlier and coming this way. And I wanted to talk to you, so I followed you… I know, that sounds creepy, but I don’t mean it that way. I just… I lost my parents to the First Order… and I don’t know how to resume normal life knowing that the First Order is gone… and I just wondered if you could help.”

And then you’re springing into action.

Armitage watches wordlessly as you stand up and wander over to her, and as you start to talk to her about her inquiry. His eyebrows furrow a little as he stares. As he thinks about what he was about to do. About why he was about to do it. About why he was about to do something he’s never done before in his life.

And he knows. He knows why. He knows why, and it terrifies him.

He’ll have to do something about that.

–

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[galaxy-parchment]

Vampire AU

1 : 2 : 3 : 4 : 5 : 6  : 7 : 8 : 9 : 10 (you are here) : 11 : 12 : 13 : 14 : 15 (coming soon)

Woops guess who forgot to link chapter 9 to all the other chapters. I hope the sheer length of this mostly explains why it took a while to write mostly because of the whole trying not to directly plagiarise the comic but also I’ve been really busy with thankfully good things like weddings and birthdays and award ceremonies and all that fun stuff.

Of all the things Lanyon expected while he was checking on why nobody had shown up the Bethnal Green for the cleanup, Henry being covered in blood and losing control of everyone in the building wasn’t in his list of possibilities. Thankfully Henry didn’t seem to be in any sort of pain but rather was staring at the chaos of lodgers running up the main staircase.

His shirt was completely covered in blood and not going out to feed since the Moreau incident certainly wasn’t helping that annoyingly ravenous feeling he was getting in the back of his mind. God, he really should have gone out yesterday. He took his mind off of it by instead looking at Henry’s face, which had much less blood on it and turned to the ground with a very worried look etched into his features.

“Henry?”

“What?” his head perked up, drawing him out of whatever thought he was lost to, he turned and noticed who it was, “Robert! What are you doing here? I thought you were helping out in Bethnal Green today?”

“I was, but the lodgers that were supposed to be helping out today never showed up, also you’re bleeding” Robert said, carefully avoiding looking down and doing anything out of turn.

Henry quickly glanced down at himself and met Robert’s eyes just as quickly, “Don’t worry, it’s not my blood” despite the apparent reassurance Robert was getting, Henry still looked quite nervous.

“Is… is that meant to make me less worried? Have you been getting enough sleep?” he reached up and felt Henry’s forehead, which was cold rather than feverishly hot like he’d expected it to be.

Henry glanced up at the hand on his head with a look of panic. He quickly pulled his hand down and laughed nervously “I’m fine, Robert, just a little off schedule but I have it under control!” a knife suddenly appeared under Henry’s chin.

“Doctor Jaaaaaay…” came the calm voice of Rachel from Henry’s right hand side “Where is Master Hyde?” she yelled abruptly. Robert was lost as Rachel bickered with Henry but struggled his way back to listening to avoid looking down at the blood that was soaked into Henry’s vest. The first word he caught was ‘Hyde’ and his eyes widened in alarm.

“What’s all this about Mr Hyde? You’re not still in contact with that scoundrel are you?” he interrogated. He quickly found himself bombarding Henry with questions about that criminal. Why on earth would he still be on speaking terms with Hyde? He was not only a criminal but he’d been outed as a vampire. As much as it pained him to say, he hoped that Henry would be reasonable enough to stay far away from affairs with vampires if he could help it. He hoped there wasn’t any foul play in all of this.

A small metallic beetle suddenly zoomed into the room and halted in front of Henry, surprising all three of them as it blurted out a robotic voice that Robert just made out to be “Transmission for Dr Henry Jekyll”

Before Robert and Rachel could process what was happening Henry was suddenly out the door and off to find the lodgers that he explained were out in Survey. Robert and Rachel simply stared for a moment before the former uttered “What just happened?”. 

Robert decided he may just have to take matters into his own hands.

-

Jekyll rushed to his room to get the bloodstained clothes off of him as soon as possible and tossed them into a bag and away from his sight. He touched a finger to his teeth to check them. Thankfully, most likely because he’d fed last night, his fangs were barely longer than usual and Jekyll took the blessing in stride. Now he had to keep himself covered for the trip to find Bryson and his crew.

He took out a top hat with a wider brim than most, flipped his collar up despite how unflattering it was to his jawline, picked up a parasol and put on gloves so that he only needed to cover his face while he was out to avoid suspicion.

He spotted the balloon a mile off and walked as fast as a gentlemanly stroll would allow him, careful to keep to the edges of the path where it was shadier. Eventually he made it to the crash site and grimaced at the ladder leading up to where the group was waiting. To his annoyance, Helsby was waving for him up to climb the ladder, so he didn’t really have a choice in the matter. Jekyll huffed, closed and tucked his umbrella under his elbow and looked down and awkwardly climbed the ladder, nearly burning himself on a spot of sunlight on his way up. He clambered up onto the elevated ground that the balloon was resting in and tidied himself up before looking to the men and giant octopus in the basket.

“So what have you been up to on this fine adventure, gentlemen?”

Bryson looked into the distance dramatically and went on a convoluted tangent about how dangerous and mysterious their latest ‘journey through the cosmos’ was. After a few minutes of monologuing Jekyll grew bored and clasped his hands together cheerfully.

“I see! So what you’re saying is you got lost!”

“If you must put it into unscientific terms,” Bryson deadpanned.

“Not to worry, I’ll have a team out here to extricate your dirigible as soon as they’ve extricated themselves from Frankenstein’s clutches”

Bryson’s eyes widened, “Frankenstein’s awake? Why didn’t you say so earlier?”, neither he nor Helsby wasted a moment climbing out of the basket and sprinting back down the path Jekyll had just traversed, the accompanying octopus monster dragging itself along in tow at an alarming pace.

Jekyll stared defeatedly as the last of the lodgers were swept up in Frankenstein’s spell. Somewhere in the back of his mind Hyde stirred. Jekyll could feel the smug grin on him from whatever shadow he lurked in.

“Oh, poor Henry! After all you’ve done for the lodgers they abandon you for some clown with a famous name! I guess no matter how hard you try to hide all of those ghastly vampiric tendencies, the can still see how much of a monster you are, fangs or no!” he cackled, revealing himself in the shade of the nearest tree. Jekyll climbed back down the ladder as he spoke and reopened the umbrella, taking his time in making his way back.

“Why can’t you just stop existing for a week? You don’t normally hang around while I’m in control, what makes this different? You’ve already been to Blackfog for a night, as agreed.”

Hyde let out a growl of anger, “What? So you can just stop worrying about me forever? How convenient for you to just let me disappear forever!”

“You know that’s not true!”

“Right, because who else is going to do the sloppy murder you need to do to stay alive? Face it, Henry, if we weren’t a vampire then you’d probably have tried to get rid of me ages ago!” Hyde fumed, his shadowy form becoming less defined, “and for the record, you’re lucky that bartender knows not to mess with a vampire, that was by far the shoddiest luring I’ve ever seen and you’re lucky you found some depressed bastard that was probably baiting himself to get killed”

“I really don’t need to deal with this right now,” Jekyll groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose and eager to avoid talking about last night, “if you’re going to hang around, you could at least help me get a handle on this Frankenstein problem.”

“Go to hell, traitor!”

“Don’t be like that! Frankenstein is our childhood idol, I need a way to win her over, but I can’t do that so long as she has this stubborn idea that I’m some kind of imposter scientist.”

“She’s not too far off, when was the last time you actually did any experiments? These days you’re just worried about making sure nobody figures out you got turned so that you can get them to throw money at your beloved Society.”

Jekyll looked up in realisation, “Huh… I think you might be onto something… I’ve been so caught up in keeping the Society afloat and focusing on hiding all of my secrets that I haven’t had time to follow my own scientific pursuits! Sure I’ve occasionally tried to make a cure but never anything I could be open about, of course Frankenstein would think I’m a fake!”

A confused look formed on Hyde’s face, “Uh- yes she… why are you agreeing with me? Where is this going?”

Before Hyde knew what was happening, Jekyll started out on a tangent about everything he remembered about alchemy and the various plants surrounding them and was adamant that he’d found just what he needed. Much to Hyde’s chagrin his insistence that Jekyll was simply blabbering and had no hope of ever winning over Frankenstein were ignored in favour of Jekyll returning to his enthusiastically wild scientific endeavours and explaining his plan all the way home until eventually he had to shut up to avoid suspicion from the sudden presence of other people who wouldn't take well to listening to Jekyll talking to thin air about the tiny flowers he had clasped in his hand.

[huberts-private-counsel-archive]

Hello it's me again~ may I... Ask for a cute little one shot thing for Ashe and Hubert. I'm weak for them....

,HI!! I MEANT TO GET TO THIS A L O T SOONER SKJFHFKJ I HOPE YOU DON’T MIND HOW LONG IT TOOK ;W;

And also, Modern AU for this one!! and...a lot more (attempted) humor than I originally intended lol - as well as a switch from my usual format!! 

....aaand a lot...longer...than I thought...i know you said little but i kinda went off woops

--------------------

Hubert was going to die. That’s it. He was going to perish in just a few moments and the one person he thought would have his back was currently trying not to laugh at him.

Correction. Was laughing at him.

“Edelgard please, this is a serious matter...” Hubert grumbled, though that only succeeded in making her laugh harder...for some reason. 

“I’m sorry Hubert,” Edelgard said as she wiped away the tears in her eyes - liar, she wasn’t actually sorry, Hubert could tell - and sighed. “But truly...how could you expect me to not laugh?”

“Maybe out of respect for a childhood friend?” Hubert buried his head under his arms, trying to figure a way out of this situation while his traitor of a friend simply laughed. 

“Hubert, honestly, how did you expect me to not laugh? What you’ve told me is, pardon my bluntness, absolutely hysterical,” chuckling as she spoke. Perhaps Hubert would have to reconsider helping her get those tickets Dorothea’s new play if this was how she was going to treat him.

What was the matter, exactly? According to Edelgard, something hysterical. That something being the fact that, after what might have been a year or two of stewing in his feelings for a young man named Ashe Ubert, and decided to take the plunge and attempt to confess.

By writing him a letter. With the intent to gift it in person, since he knew that he would not be able to say the words aloud, having not bothered to sign it. And then leaving said letter in front of his dorm room because he was an idiot and a fool who panicked as soon as he knocked on the door, dropping the letter and booking it.

Do you understand Hubert’s dilemma now?

And thus he had come to Edelgard, hoping for sympathy and maybe advice on how to get the letter back if not apologize, only to be met with laughter on her end. The absolute traitor.

“In any case...I don’t believe you have any reason to worry.” Edelgard took a sip from the coffee she had been nursing when Hubert initially asked if they could meet. Thankfully the shop had been quiet when he arrived, with very few patrons aside from himself and Edelgard...

...and yet, with how much she was laughing, Hubert almost would’ve preferred if there were more patrons - if only to have some distraction from his embarrassment.

“I believe I have every reason to worry. I made a fool out of myself,” Hubert lifted his head, only to hold it in his hands. Goddess, the amount of embarrassment he felt from this whole situation was immeasurable - and it was all his own fault! He really had no one to blame here but himself.

And yet...truthfully, he couldn’t find any true regret in this situation. Well, of course he regretted leaving behind the letter, and he defnitely regretted running away like a coward even more, but he couldn’t find himself regretting falling for Ashe. In fact, he found himself struggling just trying to picture a world where he did not fall for Ashe. After all, Ashe was practically a ball of sunshine incarnated as a person - if opposites really did attract, well, that would explain quite a bit. 

There were a million and one reasons as to why and how he realized he’d fallen (including but not limited to the time Hubert had quite literally tripped into Ashe’s arms)...and apparently, he had found it fit to include it all in the letter.

Perhaps if he asked nicely enough, Edelgard’s step-brother would be willing to put him out of his misery.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Ashe hadn’t known what to expect when he first found the letter in front of his dorm room after hearing a knock on the door. He’d reached down to pick it up, but when he looked up to see who left it there, all he’d seen was a flash of black rounding the corner. Maybe he should have given chase, but at the time, he had been distracted by the letter that was now in his hands. 

So he had gone back into his dorm room, carefully opened the letter, and began to read.

And within the first few sentences, felt his entire face burn.

Whoever it was that wrote this letter - and actually wrote it, in very neat (and almost familiar) handwriting - was very, very much in love with him. And very detailed about said love. No, there wasn’t anything gross or creepy in the letter, but with how hot Ashe’s face felt, there might as well be. 

It’s just...he’s never felt so flattered in his entire life? It was almost uncomfortable, with how hot his dorm room seemed all of a sudden when they mentioned how much they adored his cooking, and the way he gushed about his favorite books, and how his eyes apparently lit up whenever getting particularly passionate, and...

Well, you get the gist. The point was, Ashe was definitely flustered. There were just a couple of problems.

First of all, whoever had written the letter had not signed their name. Sure, they had handwritten the entire letter, but Ashe didn’t think comparing the handwriting of every student on the campus would be feasible in any way (although, looking at it again, it did look rather familiar...). 

Second of all...Ashe already had someone he was in love with. So whoever had sent this letter, he was flattered, really, but his heart was already set on one person.

That person being Hubert von Vestra. Maybe it was surprising (Ashe could almost hear Sylvain’s shocked sputtering if he were to ever find out), but Ashe found himself falling head over heels with this man. Perhaps he was rather intimidating when you first meet him, and maybe he seemed far too dark and broody for someone like Ashe to fall for, but that was the thing.

Hubert was more than just some dark and broody forensic science major (though he wouldn’t blame people for thinking otherwise). At his core, Hubert was a truly kind person, despite it only being to people he deemed worthy of it. He was loyal to a fault, and just as protective - Ashe almost giggled remembering the time someone had tried to trip Ashe and ended up getting their own legs swept out from underneath them. There was also the fact that Hubert was fond of cats - Ashe had caught him, on multiple occasions, petting and even feeding the stray cats around their university.

It also didn’t hurt that Hubert was very attractive. Very, very attractive,

Look, point was, Ashe had to find whoever wrote this letter and tell them that he was awfully sorry, but his heart was already set on someone else, and he couldn’t find himself returning their feelings when he was already in love with another. That would just be cruel of him.

So he had headed out, letter in hand, hoping to maybe find Hubert and asked him if he could help him figure this out. No, this wasn’t just an ulterior motive to spend more time with Hubert - though that certainly didn’t hurt - he just knew that if anyone could figure out who wrote it, it would be Hubert. After all, Hubert was extremely smart, almost scarily so. 

Luckily, he didn’t have to look for too long. He spotted Hubert sitting with Edelgard at the university’s coffee shop - though for whatever reason, Edelgard seemed to be laughing as Hubert buried his head in his hands. Did something happen?

“Hey, Hubert!” Ashe called out as he walked over, holding the letter tight. Hubert’s head whipped around to look at him, with a strangely panicked look in his eyes as Edelgard’s simply twinkled with what Ashe guessed was amusement. 

“H-Hello Ashe,” Hubert said in a strained voice once Ashe had reached their table, with Ashe tilting his head at hearing the strained tone. 

“Are you feeling alright? If you aren’t, I can always come back later-” Ashe began saying, though he was cut off. Surprisingly enough, by Edelgard - somehow, she just didn’t seem like the type.

“No, it’s quite alright. I’m certain we would both love to hear what you had to say,” Edelgard said, giving Hubert an odd look.

“A-Alright, if you say so.” Ashe looked between them, a bit concerned, but he supposed Edelgard would know if Hubert was alright or not. “I got this letter earlier today, and I was wondering-”

Hubert suddenly seemed to choke on nothing, coughing hard. Was Edelgard sure that he was alright? Hubert was turning horribly red...although, Edelgard herself didn’t seem too concerned. In fact, she seemed almost amused.

“Well? Go on,” she prompted.

“...I was simply wondering if Hubert could maybe help me find out who wrote it,” Ashe finished almost weakly. 

Hubert’s face seemed to be warring between various shades of red and turning completely pale. He muttered something, so quietly that Ashe couldn’t hear it.

“Did you say something? I’m afraid I couldn’t quite hear you...” Ashe watched as Hubert gave an almost helpless look to Edelgard, as Edelgard simply gestured for him to go on.

Hubert coughed again, and without looking Ashe in the eyes, he spoke. “It...It was me.”

Ashe stared at him for a few moments, completely silent as his mind processed what Hubert had said.

Then...

“WHAT?!”

(Edelgard, admittedly, was having far too much fun watching the both of them stumbling over their words as they both admitted to having at least a year’s worth of feelings for one another. She was glad that they finally managed to get together, even if it was in one of the more ridiculous ways Edelgard had thought of.

Well, she’s definitely seen worse. That worse being her professor’s first attempt at romancing the dean of the school...his fault for taking Sylvain’s advice to heart. At least it worked out between them.

She almost wished she had recorded this. Dorothea would be having a field day with this entire situation.)

[phoenotopia]

2019 October Update

Woops, I slipped by my stated blog date since I thought September had 31 days for some reason. So here's the end of September update, 1 day late.

--------------------------

Writing... And more writing.

That captures the majority of what transpired the last 2 months. The biggest cutscenes have been scripted as well as most towns, so we're really close... I estimate that the writing will conclude within the next 3 *weeks* and we will actually have a game that can be played from start to finish... Don't get too excited though, because then begins the game's vigorous playtesting phase and more polish. And since I've never launched a commercial game before, the next steps (PR, marketing, lot checking, ESRP rating application, trailers recutting, release date finding, etc) are uncharted territory. The only experience I have is launching a flash game 5 years ago, and that was a lot quicker and a lot less complicated... And so, I can't gauge how long it'd take nor give an accurate release date yet. However, as soon as I do know, it'll be sure to post it here first!

--- COMPUTER BROKE DOWN ---

Among the events that transpired in the last 2 months, my computer actually broke down. It would manifest as the computer shutting off about 10 minutes after turn on. And this was really worrisome because if my computer croaked, it would be a huge blow to the game's development. The time it would take to restore the specific dev environment I had set up would be considerable...

Luckily, it was repaired after 4 days of intense troubleshooting. I'll spare you the long list of events that transpired, but eventually my brother and I were able to narrow the problem down to non-spinning fans on the graphics card. I was able to zippo-tie two chassis fans together, and insert them below the Gfx Card's heat sink. Much cheaper than replacing the whole graphics card!

(please hold until the game's done)

--- MORE PLAYTESTING CHANGES ---

I'll discuss here some additional fixes/changes to the game based on my brother's previous playthrough (still going through that list, heh...)

F. Remember you can climb roots

I remember from a public demo I attempted (3 years ago?), that a lot of people got stuck at these roots, not realizing they could be climbed. Since then, we did a few things to ensure that the first encountered roots would be climbed. The roots' colors were brightened so they would stand out. A character, Ernest, comments that others have climbed the roots. And finally, standing in front of the roots will cause the "Press UP" tutorial prompt to appear.

So how did my brother fare when I did the playtest 2 months ago? He climbed the roots, thankfully. He climbed the next few sets as well. However, later on, in a dungeon, he forgot that climbable roots were a thing. Back to square one. So there's a lesson here... Even if you teach a player something, there's no guarantee that it'll stick.

So in the picture above, you can see my next attempt at an invisible hand to remind the player. In the red circle, notice there are 4 blue dots. These blue dots pulsate wherever there are climbable roots (They're a lot more visible in motion). The idea is to tie an unusual image to an action. I anticipate when the player sees 4 pulsating dots, they'll react by attempting a variety of actions, before eventually concluding that you can only climb them. And that this experience will be more memorable for it - to be conjured up whenever the player sees 4 blue dots. I look forward to observing what happens with the next blind playtester. (Btw, in reading this blog, you have disqualified yourself from playtesting :P)

G. Instant Food Eating

As stated in a previous blog post, the player can't eat from the menu. Food must be eaten in real-time. It's up to the player to find a safe spot to eat, away from interruptions. Some foods can be eaten more quickly, proving more valuable in a fight.

However, what about on the world map?

You can't use tools or items on the world map, which means no healing at all! I saw my brother opening the menu and tinkering around, confident that it could be done. Because why couldn't you?

Indeed... he didn't say anything, but I wrote it down as a feature to be added. And after adding it, found that eating from the menu was  fun! After years of using the new system, to have the old flash system's implementation of healing again was refreshing.

And so I decided to add it as a possible new characteristic of food. There's now a special class of food, "candy", that actually can be used from the menu (world map or no). Rest assured, candy items will be balanced - costing more than regular food, and their healing effects will tend to be less than other more timely items.

(the “eat” subcommand appears for "candy" class items. The candy icon on the bottom-right denotes a candy class item)

H. Fishing Hud finally updated

This wasn't something discovered through playtesting, more of an unfinished task that sat around for far too long. 

(Old fishing hud on left. New fishing hud on the right)

In the old fishing hud (perhaps an example of minimalism taken too far), the fish's health is represented by 10 white dots. In the new fishing hud, the fish's health lines up and mirrors the player's own stamina. Whoever outlasts the other wins!

I had actually been sitting on the finalized graphics for over a year. For some reason, the last 10% implementation of a feature tends to be the most boring. In game development, I find myself jumping around often, working on whatever can catch my interest. That's good for ensuring that the game's development is always moving forward in *some* capacity. But now at the tail end of development, only the most boring tasks are left...

--- WRITING ---

So I mentioned writing. One of the things written in the last 2 months was the entirety of the "monster" village's NPCs. This time I also roped in Pirate (formerly artist, now also writer), since she's quite familiar with their lore having drawn them and their town.

When I wrote trolls, I wanted to give them a unique speech, not unlike the Mr. Saturns from Earthbound. My idea was to capitalize all words and then strip away as many unnecessary words as I could, while keeping the meaning identical.

Pirate then took the result and improved upon it, establishing rules their language could follow to be consistent:

Simplified negatives (no instead of not/don’t/can’t/etc);

Object pronouns replace subject, possessive and reflexive pronouns (me/name instead of I/my/mine/myself). 

No ‘be’ verb or it’s conjugations (am, is, are).

No verb conjugation.

No articles.

(A sample of troll language. Harpy language is similar, but no caps, and a few other variations.)

Another neat thing that happened naturally over the past two months was a construction of a "timeline". The timeline takes the form of a 2D chart, with the major players lined up on the left, and the years up top. There are new characters this time around, and having the timeline as a reference, helps to make sure the lore is on point.

(the timeline, blurred. An internal tool to aid writing)

--- FIVE YEAR ANNIVERSARY ---

Speaking of which, it was the game's 5 year anniversary this past August 20th. Thank you to Firana for reminding me!

Five years... Five Years... T_T (I thought I'd be done by now)

It'd be neat to do a longer in-depth retrospective on this game's long development, but I'll wait for the game to be properly finished first.

--- FAN ART ---

We have 3 lovely fan arts that came in the past 2 months.

(Art by Amaury Lorin)

I like how this picture selectively colors the night sky, comet, and fire. Very artistic! Amaury also submitted a poem (in French). Here it is!

Parmi cette clarté que la nuit seule émet, Au-dessus des radis géants qui s'épanouissent, Nonobstant sans souci les herbes qui frémissent, Sous un ciel calme et sombre, un village dormait.

Éprise de liberté, une puki part Là-bas, quelque part où des prés plus verts la tenant. "Oh, s'écrie un enfant, une étoile filante!" Veille, enfant : pour tes grands yeux curieux seuls, ce soir,

Indifférente au sol précipité sur elle, L'étoile tombe... Écoute, enfant, elle t'appelle; L'étoile : "Suis-je un ange, un messager du ciel?

Avec mes feux, suis-je augure, ou suis-je étincelle? Gloire d'un monde haut, d'une nuit éternelle... Et j'arrive!" --Dors, enfant, tes yeux ont sommeil...

                                                         ...mais demain...

(Art by LittleLys Owo)

Gale smiling and flashing the peace sign. Nice! I like the skillful use of vectors to draw the lineart.

(Art by Shafiyahh)

Shafiyahh, who also drew fanarts in the last update, returns with this cool picture of Gale sporting the katana, a hidden weapon that... JK. I Love the composition of characters, and the flashy background - very anime-esque!

That's all for now. Next update will come at the end of November!

[imnotcameraready]

chivalry is dead (5)

A/N: idk what to write here for this chapter, to be Fuckin Honest — this didn’t feel like a lot to write, and then i checked my wordcount and was like “woah! that’s the longest chapter” and i didn’t wanna cut it so here’s A Lot!!

WARNINGS: sympathetic deceit, threats, minor character death, knives, swords, descriptions of blood, blood, cursing, panic, chaos, Getting Lost in the woods, crowds, arguing, a chase, mentions of a bear, loneliness, — if i’ve forgotten any, please let me know!!!

Words: 5465

Pairings: nothing yet!!! slight hints of the good Royality™ and some Soft Loceit™ and some i guess hard-stop platonic Anxciet — DLAMP is still endgame but i told y’all this would be a fuckin slow burn

Part 1 (chivalry is dead) — Part 2 (i’m wishing) — Part 3 (the bells of notre dame) — Part 4 (honor to us all) — Part 5 (i’ve got no strings)

AO3 link!

@starlightvirgil @forrestwyrm @daflangstlairde @marshmallow-the-panda​ @askthesnake @k9cat

enjoy!! <3 <3

“I’ve got no strings, so I have fun….I’m not tied up to anyone….They’ve got strings but—”

“Would you shut up already? Of all the songs for you to be singing, too. Singing won’t get rid of me.”

“I can dream, can’t I?”

“Ppft. I don’t know, Dickhead in Distress, can you?”

“What’re you doing here, Dragon Bitch. Go kiss a mirror.”

“Just paying you a little visit. Excited to see you so vulnerable. Once I find the others, I’m gonna take a lot of pleasure in cutting your head off in front of them. Maybe we’ll even get a crowd.”

“I hope you never find them.”

“Then I’ll just kill you alone. Or maybe I’ll guillotine you! Oh, I’ll set up the most beautiful blade — cold steel, perfectly manicured and sharpened. Maybe that’ll actually draw them out of hiding, rolling your head along the main road, watching the blood paint the cobblestone red.”

“That’d….that’d hurt Thomas. Holy shit. You’re insane.”

“And you sicken me, what’s your point? You know I wouldn’t do that. Not with all your little lover boys in town.”

“What?”

“Didn’t you feel it? They finally checked in on us. Nerd Declassified Creativity Survival Guide let them in. It’ll be the coup of a century. And, if I find them....”

“Don’t hurt them.”

“They’ve got strings—”

“—No, no come back here. Don’t!—”

“—but you can see—”

“—Please, you can’t—”

“—there are no strings on me!”

As Anxiety, Virgil has a running mental list of all the things Thomas perceived as dangers. Ergo, these were things Virgil didn’t want happening to him. He doesn’t like not knowing what’s at the bottom of the ocean. A drink left unattended at party was a potential danger. He doesn’t like being caught in a lie and doesn’t like having to be out socializing for unexpectedly extended periods of time.

Waking up in on the ground in a forest was pretty high on that list. When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the blue sky, dotted with small clouds, through an opening of tree branches.

He sat up, blinking his eyes more and trying to take in their surroundings. Dirt and leaves were stuck to his hair and the cloak he’d wrapped himself in. To his left was Patton, laying face down in a pile of leaves, and to his right was Deceit and Logan similarly splayed on the ground.

Immediately Virgil thought the worst, but his worries alleviated when Deceit groaned, and Logan’s arms pinched in to push himself up. Patton sat upright as well, arms stretching around himself.

“Well,” Patton hummed, “We’re not in Kansas anymore.”

The forest around them was thick, tall trees in every direction and stretching as far as they could see. They seemed to have landed in a small clearing, on a patch of grass and leaves and flowers, but still very much in the middle of the forest.

“Here I thought the Playwright’d be helping us,” Deceit said, picking the leaves off of his coat, “This is ridiculous. We’re in a forest.”

“This isn’t good. Oh my God, this isn’t good — Logan, what do we know about edible berries?” Virgil asked, turning around in a few circles.

Logan looked around, mouth open as he assessed the situation. Then, he patted the inside of his coat, mumbling to himself.

After standing up, Patton went to grab Virgil’s shoulders, stopping his spinning. “Don’t look around too much, kiddo, you’re gonna make yourself dizzy. And–And it’s okay! We’re in the Imagination now, and we’re gonna find Roman.”

“How’re we supposed to find Roman when I can’t even find the treeline?!” Virgil asked, grabbing Patton’s arms back, “And we just FELL. From the SKY.”

“Yeah, well….that can happen! It’s the Imagination, it’s okay. Besides, we survived! Roman wouldn’t let the Imagination hurt us,” Patton pulled him a little closer, patting his arm twice.

Virgil grabbed Patton’s hand and yanked him closer to his chest, causing the moral side to let out a small “Woop!” and open his arms as well. There had to be a number of panic attacks in one day that the anxious side could take, some sort of pain threshold, and he was certainly on his way to reaching it. Deceit watched them hug for only a few seconds before turning around and looking for Logan. And, by proxy, the book.

If the Playwright handed them a book saying that it’d help, calling it “deus ex machina,” then it likely had some sort of answer. Right?

It seemed Logan himself had the same thought, because he was sitting on the small stump, pressing his finger to it. Deceit approached and sat besides him. Logan had opened to a new page, one not indicated to earlier by the Table of Contents. “Imaginary Map” was the clever name, and the map itself stretched both pages. It didn’t indicate where they were, but there was a forest, a mountain range, and a lake, all forming a jagged triangle around what looked like a town. A small river ran through the town, between the mountains and lake. There was a compass in the bottom left corner as well, cardinal directions written in the Playwright’s neat but floppy handwriting.

“It’s a safe assumption that we’re somewhere here,” Logan circled the forest area, “But I cannot tell where the sun is.”

“If it follows a pattern. Roman’s been known to keep it on daytime for much longer than just one day,” Deceit said.

Logan shrugged. His foot was tapping on the ground, rubbing the corner of the page between his fingers. There were a lot of questions he had and a lot of feelings he didn’t understand. Why had Roman done this? It was excessive, to break oneself into pieces like he had allegedly done.

And he hadn’t ruled out the possibility that Roman had just dressed up different, was putting them through this story for god knows what reason. That Roman was upset about something or other, and thus had set up a narrative that held the other Sides at fault, with him sitting in his room safe and sound. Did Logan find that easier to explain? Perhaps. Did he want that? He was merely thinking of all the potentially logical explanations for Roman’s behavior.

He blinked when Deceit put a hand on his. “You’re gonna tear the page,” he said, voice quiet.

Slowly, Logan nodded, though he didn’t remove his hand from Deceit’s. The comfort was welcome at this time. “Thank you.”

They both examined the map, opening the book further when Patton and Virgil approached to see, the later having calmed down.

Virgil immediately pointed to a small gap between the tree drawings, then pointed to biggest tree drawing in the forest — it looked like the other trees, just slightly bigger. “I think we’re in this gap thing. And we gotta head to that tree,” he stood up straight, cupping his hands around his eyes and looking at the sky.

Logan glanced at him, then back at the map. “What makes you say that?”

“Big tree. First checkpoint, like in a video game,” Virgil said, jerking a thumb back toward the clearing’s center, “Wanna stare at the sun with me?”

Deceit carefully took the book from Logan’s hands, and Patton slid into Logan’s seat as he vacated it. He went to stand besides Virgil, lifting his glasses to the top of his head and watching the sun as well. Well, they weren’t staring straight at the sun, because that was dangerous. More like they were trying to figure out where it was in the sky through the thick tree coverage. Either way, it looked like they knew what they were doing, so he looked away. Patton hoped they knew what they were doing.

“Patton,” Patton glanced up from where he was fiddling with his shirt’s drawstrings, “You’ve been quiet.”

Deceit was watching him with a raised eyebrow beneath the bycocket hat that had replaced the bowler. Though, his hair was falling out of place beneath it. Patton leaned forward as he answered. “Oh, you know. Just worried’s all.”

Deceit stiffened when Patton cupped his cheek and slid the hair back into the hat, but he just kept talking. “I mean. It feels bad. Roman didn’t even tell us how he’d been feeling. And does that mean he’s been doubting himself this whole time? He thinks we don’t like him, and I know for a fact that that’s wrong.”

Patton sat back, crossed his legs, and nodded to himself. “We love Roman. I,” he trailed off, and then chuckled quietly, “I know I love Roman, a lot. We–We’re best friends!”

“And yet, he didn’t disclose his feelings.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what hurts about this all. But that just means we have to make sure he knows we love him! We’ve just gotta sure he knows so well that he doesn’t question it anymore!”

Deceit raised an eyebrow at Patton’s explicit and tunnel-visioned optimism. Judging by the shine in the moral side’s eyes, though, there was nothing Deceit could say to convince him otherwise.

Ah, curse them all and their stubborness. Deceit would have to find a good time to address that with Patton, to be honest. It always hurt, a little, when he caught Patton beating himself up over failing to emotionally connect with the other Sides. Nothing that a cuddle and some cookies wouldn’t stave off, but Deceit was….well, this whole endeavor with Roman was showing him that he couldn’t keep “staving off” the other Sides’ problems.

He shook his head, clearing it, and both him and Patton looked up to the sound of crunching leaves as Logan and Virgil made their way closer.

“East, right?” Virgil stuffed his hands into his pockets, pulling his thick cloak tighter around himself as he did so.

“Very much so. At least that will give us nearly a full day to find the forest’s edge. From there, we will be able to discern the distances between objects,” Logan said.

“It better not be too far. I don’t wanna be spending the night in the woods.”

“Well, sleeping in a forest is not ideal, though I have enough of an idea on how to arrange a lean-to that we may be able to survive one night.”

Virgil tutted, shaking his head. “What if some animals find us? Like a really big bear or something?”

Logan paused and, for a second, Virgil was worried that he’d respond with some statistic about what kinds of bears live in forests with trees like this. What Logan said, though, was “We’ll throw Deceit at the bear and run,” just as they stopped in front of Patton and Deceit.

Virgil and Patton both snorted at the offended gasp Deceit gave. “How dare!”

“Awh, Deceit, don’t worry! Logan’s just joking,” Logan opened his mouth to clarify that, yes, he was posing a hypothetical suggestion to alleviate Virgil’s worries, “We just couldn’t bear that!”

Logan rolled his eyes, pointedly ignoring Patton’s grin. Well, alright then. He clapped, drawing attention back to himself. “Okay. The sun is still rising, in that direction,” he pointed with one arm, “And, compared to the map, Virgil’s supposed first checkpoint is in that direction,” he shifted his arm.

“Although we don’t know distances comparatively to this map, I can only assume that if we walk continuously in that direction, we will soon find the large tree. That will also help us figure out the comparative distances on the map.”

After a round of agreements, the four Sides gathered themselves and began their trek, Logan leading the way with the book’s map open in front of himself. Some woodland creatures were about. Patton pointed out a squirrel, two squirrels, a bird (a swallow, according to Logan) and they’d even seen a deer in the distance.

There were still some loose ends to tie before this supposed quest, Deceit thought. He slowed his walk so he was in line with Virgil, who was bringing up the rear.

“Sssso.”

Virgil glanced at him from the corner of his eye, quick, before starring forward again. “What?”

“Truce,” Deceit was watching Virgil, lips pinched in thought.

Virgil stopped, as did Deceit. He turned to fully face him, brow pinched tight and mouth open in a small O. It looked like he was trying to weigh his options, or, Deceit considered, weigh a new insult.

“We have had our differences, Virgil. And I cannot say that I fully trust you either. But I think, for right now, we….should work together. I plan on working with you,” Deceit’s eyes narrowed when Virgil’s scowl deepened. “For Roman’s sake. At least.”

Virgil kept glaring at him. Deceit wasn’t sure if Logan and Patton had stopped walking, he wasn’t keen on taking his eyes off of Virgil. Since their steady falling out, he’d regarded Virgil as more of a live wire than anything else. He was a leading factor in stifling Thomas’ interactivity, after all, and that was detrimental to Thomas’ development as a human being. They very much had their historic differences. But, given Virgil’s display of protection in the Mind Palace….while Deceit wasn’t a fan of being immediately attacked, he understood the reasoning behind the decision. Fight or flight.

They held their stare-off for only a moment longer, until Virgil blinked, looking away towards the other two Sides. “You’re right. For Roman’s sake,” he added the last part softer, regret laced through his voice.

That was good enough, Deceit supposed. He started after Logan and Patton — they hadn’t stopped, and were two blue dots in the distance — when Virgil called after him. “Hey, Deceit?”

“Yes,” he looked at Virgil, who was tugging at his cloak’s sleeves, jaw set.

“I’m sorry. For attacking you earlier,” he said, quiet and strained.

Deceit’s eyebrow raised. That was unexpected, Virgil apologizing for a reaction. “It was understandable. I entered where I shouldn’t have, without forewarning. And you were already tightly wound from Roman’s extended disappearance.”

“Maybe it was valid, yeah, but still,” Virgil followed after him, steps slow and eyes trained not on Deceit’s face but his chin. “‘M sorry.”

Virgil felt a hand brush his and looked down to see Deceit holding his hand out, open for Virgil. “It’s okay, Virgil,” the other’s voice was so soft now, “Just some steps backward, and more steps forward to come.”

There were about a million things Virgil thought to say. Something about how that was just mumbo jumbo, something about hanging out with Patton too much, something else about how untrue that could be.

But something about the way Deceit’s hand was shaking, the way his snake eye twitched, like he was fighting an impulse, drove home that he honestly believed it. And, for Virgil, that was all he needed to take his hand and keep walking.

They’d been walking for maybe fifteen minutes total before coming across another clearing, this one much wider, with a thick oak tree in the center. Was it oak? The bark was reminiscent of an oak, but the tree itself was so big that it seemed more like a redwood.

Patton began walking around the tree, looking it over, while Virgil and Deceit followed behind Logan. He was the first to approach, drawing his hand down the bark as though feeling every etching.

“Well. This is your checkpoint,” Logan said.

“I don’t see how it’s so significant that it had to be marked on a map,” Deceit said, tilting his head upward, squinting into the light to see how tall the tree was.

“Just a hunch. I don’t really, either, other than….it’s big.”

“Maybe it’s just a big tree? Does Roman usually just make things like this?”

“I don’t know. I try not to interact with Roman’s creative process, especially his pet projects, similar to how he does not interact with mine,” Logan looked around, “We should walk the perimeter. There may be something different.”

Deceit and Virgil both nodded, and then turned in opposite directions. Logan followed after Virgil, one hand touching the tree still, and they found Patton first.

The moral side was on his tip-toes, examining something on the tree’s trunk. “What’d you find, Pat?” Virgil’s voice surprised Patton enough that he stumbled back a little.

“Ah, sorry!” Virgil checked on him, but Patton waved him off.

“It’s okay! I just got a little spooked — that’s a door.” Logan and Virgil looked at where Patton’d been inspecting.

Sure enough, there was a light circled outlined on the bark in black chalk. Logan moved closer immediately, taking a knee to inspect. There was a door-sized circle drawn on the bark, as well as a fully-blacked out circle where one would expect a handle, and a small keyhole drawn in just beneath.

In the center of the door was Roman’s crest, also drawn in with black chalk. Written beneath the crest was “A place for solitude.”

Logan squinted at the words, mouthing them quietly. He ran a thumb over the words and, finding them unchanged, rubbed a little harder. None of the chalk was coming off. Curious.

One could expect Roman to have magic in his world, given the present fantasy elements. This seemed to Logan like it could be the first indication of magic.

“What do you think that means?” Logan turned around, finding Deceit, Virgil, and Patton all standing behind him.

Logan looked back at the door and stood up slowly. “....I’m not sure. I don’t know how this world works,  so trying to predict what it might mean could lead to the wrong assumptions, but it feels like something outside of reality.”

Patton nodded, and rubbed his own arms. They were lonely words indeed, and while it was a tree trunk, Patton was sure it led to something else. “Do you mean like magic?”

“It looks like we’re not getting in, if this is even a door,” Deceit stepped back as he spoke, “I don’t know how we’d even try to open it. We should try to find the road to town.”

“But this door’s got Roman’s crest on it. Another Roman’s probably in there,” Virgil said.

“There’s no way for us to get in, and it’s unconfirmed that this even a doorway. Plus, if it is another Roman, he probably heard us by now. He might not want to see us.”

“How would he have heard us?”

Deceit pointed up to a few feet above the door’s drawing. There was a circular window, seemingly without any glass.

“Hey L, has the map updated or anything?” Virgil asked, still looking at the window.

Logan frowned, pulling the book from his jacket. He flicked open the Table of Contents with emphasis, but stopped and spread out the page. There was a new section that had been scratched out, beneath “The Playwright,” and Logan couldn’t make out the words. Hm.

He opened the Imaginary Map, at the back of the book. The tree that they were at had been colored in with a dark brown trunk and bright green leaves, and had been labeled.

“The Playwright has named this tree ‘The Thief’s Nest,’” Logan said as he scanned the page, “Beyond that, nothing has changed.”

“Alrighty, so the Thief lives here! We’ll have to check back when he’s home and maybe he’ll let us in?” Patton nudged Logan, gesturing for him to follow.

“I find it unlikely that someone who describes their home as ‘a location for solitude’ would allow us entrance,” Logan stood up, looking at the Book again, “But I suppose we don’t have any other option. We should start in that direction.”

Patton nodded, a smile on his face. “Maybe we’ll be able to steal him away from his loneliness!”

His pun was met with an angry huff.

“Wow, it looks like Patton stole the air from your lungs,” Deceit quipped, “And here I thought thievery was wrong.”

He and Virgil had already started in the direction Logan had pointed to, a few steps away from them. Logan groaned at the pun, walking past Patton and ignoring Virgil’s snickering as he continued to lead their way out of the forest.

Finding the edge of the forest was simple — the map had shown that the distance between the Thief’s tree and the clearing that they’d landed in was actually shorter than the distance from the tree to the forest’s edge, confirming that the distances on the map were precise, to a comparative extent.

Once they got through the treeline, Virgil pointed out the road, only a short distance away, and they were soon on the path. On the horizon was a large castle, looking nearly as tall as the mountains behind it. The Sides could make out some buildings below it, sprawling and larger as they grew closer. This must be the town on the map. It was surrounded by a wall but there was a gate on their path, its doors open.

There was probably no harm in entering an unguarded door, Deceit had reasoned. They went in.

The town was certainly bustling, more people walking around as they walked along the road. Windows were open, store-fronts had crowds standing before them. Upon first entering, there were only one or two shop stalls between the streets, the more they walked but the deeper they got, the more stalls and stores there were; there were more people scattered around, talking in hushed voices or mulling around doorways. The buildings grew taller, too, the closer to the castle they got. Still semi-in the distance though much closer now was the castle, a towering figure with light-grey walls and red

The group held each others’ clothing ends as they slowly pushed into a large market-place area, such like a town square. Virgil was looking around, arms tucked in close and body pressing even closer to Logan as the crowd densified around them. Someone in the crowd caught his eye, though, and he squinted.

Slowly, he pointed his hand out in front of Logan and Patton. “Isn’t that the Dominos delivery guy?”

“Maybe — hey, that kinda reminds me of that one thing we saw on Tumblr, about how every face we see in a dream’s a face we’ve seen in real life,” Patton tapped his lip thoughtfully.

Virgil saw the gleam of getting to explain something in Logan’s eyes. As soon as Patton said “that one thing,” he frantically signaled from Logan’s left, waving his hand across his neck to call ‘cut.’ But the deed was done.

“Actually, that would imply that the human mind is unable to create new faces, but that hasn’t been proven in a way that can be measured. According to a media article published by Stanford University’s Neuroscience Department, there are many ways that the human dreamlike state’s facial recognition cannot be calculated in an adequate way, including that such a test would involve precise knowledge of every face that a person has seen throughout their lifetime, including passing strangers. Though it’s heavily implied, due to how humans use REM sleep to store memories—”

“Hang on, hang on,” Deceit waved a hand at them, drawing immediate silence, “Listen.”

They both stopped, Virgil flicking his hood off so he could better hear. Patton was already looking around, trying to find where it was coming from.

“A dream is a wish your heart makes”

“Yep, that’s him,” Virgil murmured.

Patton pointed to the left and Deceit nodded. “Let’s go,” Deceit said, before Patton grabbed his arm and tugged him down the road.

They both immediately picked up a brisk fast-walk, jogging after the music, with Logan and Virgil right on their heels.

“When you’re fast asleep~”

“Is this going to be a trend, do you think? Following music?” Logan huffed quietly, “It seems to be a motif.”

“Motif?” Virgil asked.

“Yes. Given how the Playwright was discussing this whole scenario, it seems that some literary devices will be used to aid us in finding Roman. The use of music, specifically Disney music , may be a way to lead us, the protagonists, towards the next plot point.”

“In dreams you lose your heartaches~”

Virgil pursed his lips. “You know, I don’t know if we get to be meta here.”

“Why wouldn’t we? We’ve done so in multiple episodes, for comedic relief,” Logan said. Patton and Deceit rounded around a corner, and there seemed to be a soft ukulele accompaniment to the singing.

“Well,” Virgil said, as he and Logan jogged after them, “I don’t know if we’re allowed to break the fourth wall in fan—”

Deceit and Patton had stopped just around the corner, and Virgil slammed into Patton’s back, making him stumble forward a few steps. Logan stopped himself, tripping on his feet but being caught by Deceit and held steady.

“Oh, shoot, sorry,” Patton helped Virgil upright, “We just found him.”

“Whatever you wish for, you keep~”

There was a small crowd, only about twenty people, gathered around a set of five barrels. And Roman.

Well. One of the Romans, they all reminded themselves, because this certainly wasn’t their prince. He was wearing a loose white tunic shirt and a red vest trimmed with gold, all of which was tucked into a bright red waist-sash. Beneath the sash was a pair of puffy pants tucked into knee-high black boots with golden heels. His hair was messy, swept up and blowing around in nonexistent wind.

“Didn’t the Playwright say something about every Roman having part of his crest?” Patton asked, tilting his head.

“He said that the book’s cover would update with parts of his crest as we talked to more of the Romans, not that they each would be adorned with the crest,” Logan looked at the book’s cover, then flipped it open to the Table of Contents.

“Have faith in your dreams, and someday~” the Roman’s voice rang clear as day over the hushed crowd, even over the bustling sounds of people walking past.

A new section appeared, a sub-section of “The Playwright” called “Authors Notes.” That definitely hadn’t been there prior. Logan squinted and began flipping to it, but was interrupted by Virgil nudging him and pointing.

“He is wearing the crest, I think. Look at his pants.”

The Roman’s pants had a jagged designs on them, red pants with golden stitching in a zig-zag and with small gold circles around it. “Doesn’t it look like his crest’s mountains and swirly whatever’s?”

….He supposed Virgil had a point.

The Roman stood up on the barrel and struck a pose while strumming on the ukulele. He was watching someone in the crowd, smile broad as the sky.

Then, he hopped from one barrel to another, making a pose as he did so. “Your rainbow will come shining through~” he spun on the barrel on the word “rainbow,” and Virgil stiffened.

“He has good balance and coordination,” Logan placed a hand on Virgil’s shoulder, rubbing gently, “He didn’t fall off the ladder, and he’s will not fall off the barrels.”

“....What if you’re wrong,” Virgil hissed.

Logan raised his eyebrow at Virgil, as though daring him to repeat that sentiment. Virgil just rolled his eyes and glowered back at the Roman.

“So,” Patton turned around and whispered to the group, “We….probably have to talk to him.”

“No matter how your heart is grieving~”

“We definitely need to talk to him,” Deceit said, turning his head towards Patton, “But to do so we’re also gonna have to interrupt his performance.”

“Do you think we can just wait until he’s done?” Virgil tugged at his sleeves, watching the Roman do a twirl after another jump, one leg kicked into the air, “Maybe he’s got good coordination, but if we interrupt him, and he gets really shocked, and he falls over—”

“Then one of us can catch him. I do agree, though, that intervening is not the best course of action. It may upset this iteration of Roman.”

“Alright, then, how about we wait until the song’s over?”

“If you keep on believing~”

“It’s almost over, right?”

“I think this verse repeats?”

“How….how do you not know how this song goes? Isn’t this Princey’s ringtone?”

“I don’t know. I don’t typically retain the memory of lyrics, that is overseen by Roman, and I don’t listen to his ringtone. I just retain facts, schedules, and our internal clock, among my other duties.”

“And yet you’ve memorized the Rainforest Rap?”

“Let’s not hound Logan for his music tastes, Black Parade.”

“The dream that you wish will come true!”

All four of them were startled by the uproarious applause that broke out. They looked up to see the figure laughing, leaning forward from the front-most barrel to high five someone in the crowd. As he leaned in, he acted like he was listening to something, ukulele held high and away in the gesture. His movements were was comical and exaggerated, hand cupping his ear, legs in a bent splits over the barrel.

“....D’you think they all have names like, ‘the position-name’?” Virgil asked, watching the Roman lean back up, do a backflip onto another barrel,“Because I think this one’s a clown.”

“Perhaps he’s the performer,” Logan suggested.

“Oh! Maybe he’s the thespian!” Patton clapped.

“We just missed his mid-song break,” Deceit said, pinching the bridge of his nose as the Roman began strumming his ukulele again,  “Oh my God, we missed his song break.”

Virgil nudged him with his elbow. “It’s not like he’s going—”

“STOP! THIEF!”

The four Sides, along with most of the civilians who’d been watching the performance, all turned around around. Behind them were some taller buildings, fluctuating between three and four floors of height. After craning their necks, trying to find the source of the yell, Virgil tapped Logan’s chest and pointed.

Four buildings down, running along the building’s rooftop, was a man. He had a large black cloak, covered with deep red patches, that billowed after him. That was all they could see from this distance.

Fortunately, they weren’t the only ones who had spotted the man on the roof.

“Hey, Aladdin!” the performing Roman shouted, cutting himself off by waving his ukulele into the air, “Stealing from the dragon’s hoard again?”

“Aw, shut up and get running, Sir Talks-a-lot!” came the reply.

The Roman laughed, loud and brash, but only Patton turned toward him. He saw the performing Roman jump off of the barrel he’d been standing on, into the crowd and disappearing from Patton’s sight.

“One jump! Ahead of the breadline!” he sang, strumming the ukulele once, harshly, before the crowd around him dissolved into shouting, running, and chaos, “One swing! Ahead of a sword!”

Patton looked back up at the running figure. The cloaked man jumped off of one of the roofs, pirouetting mid-jump and throwing something at the guards. Two of them dodged, but one was struck, falling over. Virgil flinched as he noticed the fallen guard had been hit with a throwing knife, the handle wrapped with a bright red fabric.

He tugged Deceit’s arm, hissing at the other two, “We’ve gotta follow him.”

“Do you think that’s another Roman,” Logan asked. He glanced at Virgil, who nodded before immediately running in the direction of the cloaked figure and guards.

Deceit opened his mouth, but was shoved to the side by another person in passing. “Hey, watch it!” he snapped, looking around to see who’d pushed him.

Laughter, childish laughter. He looked down to see a young boy with messy light brown hair and a black cloak. The boy turned to him, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“Sorry, mister Deceit! I’ve gotta run!” the golden brooch that pinned the child’s cloak together glistened in the light.

Logan and Deceit heard Patton’s breathing hitch when he saw it was the sun from Roman’s crest. Another one.

“You know, the Playwright implied it’d be hard to find them all,” Deceit mumbled.

A guard shouted, something indecipherable, but the child took is cue. He turned and kept running, away from them all.

“Wait,” Patton shoved Logan to the side and ran after the child, “He’s–He’s just a kid—!”

“God damnit,” Deceit hissed, pressing shoulders with Logan as they both turned in opposite directions.

They looked at each other, then the stage. The crowd had completely cleared now, chaotic as people ran away from the multiple groups of guards. The Roman they’d seen performing earlier was nowhere in sight, barrels kicked over, though….they could hear faint singing from beyond the wall.

“We should regroup later,” Deceit said, “Right here. Tomorrow morning, if need be.”

“After sunrise. You follow Virgil, I will follow Patton,” Logan responded.

He patted Deceit’s back and they pushed off of each other, taking off in their own respective directions.

[aleteia-ff]

Hi! I've been religiously reading Phantom of the Arena and every chapter has me drooling over your incredible writing. I have been meaning to ask you, how did you outline the story? Each chapter is so long and detailed, I wonder if you know every detail already or if you come up with stuff while following a skeletal outline? I ask because I'm trying my hand at a long Hiccstrid story with some slow burn and wanted some advice about outlining it from someone who seems to do it very well. Thanks!!

Ahh, thank you so much! I’m well-aware you’re reading the fic; I haven’t had the chance to reply to your most recent reviews yet, but I love every single one of them! 

On to your question; I basically started with a skeletal outline which got more detailed over time, as I worked on the story. So while getting the first arc of the story down (up until Astrid finds out who the Phantom is) I figured out a lot of the other details, but I never really know the exact lines of a scene until I actually write it - with the exception of a few one-liners. I just let the words fall according to how I feel the characters would say/think them in that moment. 

That said, I have known the general trend of Phantom for a long time, very importantly that Astrid and Hiccup would end up fighting, and what they’d be fighting about in the part of the story we’re currently in. That’s allowed me to really write towards that, even if I didn’t know exactly how the scenes would go, I knew they would happen and what the topic would be. And I have all of that written out in a general outline, which includes the main content of every chapter + some details I shouldn’t forget about.

Then, when I actually write the chapter itself, I first write a more specific outline, because especially at this point in the story, I need to do things “right” immediately, as in some cases there is just no room for me to fix that later (for instance, a certain subject needs to be brought up in a specific conversation, because after it, there won’t room to bring it up). In writing that outline, I feel it’s just really important to know your own story and to remember/have written down what has happened before, so you can build everything that comes after on top of that and make sure it stays consistent.

As an example, this is my more specific outline for Astrid & Hiccup’s fight in chapter 36: (major The Phantom of the Arena spoilers!!!)

In general, I’d say that the most important thing in plotting out a romance arc is that you figure out your essentials; what points do your characters have to reach in your story? Some of Phantom’s first milestones were the kiss in the arena and Astrid’s decision to go with Hiccup, for instance. Then, you can start to think about how your characters might get to that essential point and let them just… go through that and see how things end up. Your characters might surprise you, they might take longer than you thought they would (Hiccup and Astrid did that to me in Phantom, they took ages), but as long as you know they’re on track to that essential milestone you’ve lined up for them, I don’t think that’s a problem! It can make the story feel more organic if you’re really in touch with your character’s feelings, I think. Just make sure you keep in mind what your characters did and how they got to that point, as there might be opportunities for you to connect back to those on your way to a new essential point, which makes the romance feel more connected as a whole. 

It’s really hard to explain, honestly! I feel like I’m sounding really vague in trying not to ramble on too much, but then I scroll back up and I produced a wall of text after all! Woops. I hope it’s somewhat useful ^^

Just let me know if you have any questions about something specific I said, because it’s honestly a topic I could talk about for hours. I’ve actually been thinking about writing up a general post on how to structure/create a romance arc for quite a while, if people are interested (let me know if you are!), but that’d be more about the general structure of a romance plot than on how to work with details and outlines. 

And as with anything, I’m still learning new things myself every day! I wouldn’t be surprised if one year from now, I’m doing things completely different yet again.