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sweet-creature101 · 2 years ago

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Kiwi

Summary: Harry and y/n meet after a long time. Harry sees that y/n’s the same yet also very different from the girl he first set eyes on.

famous!harry ; part one

warnings: mention of alcohol, substances, abuse, sex

Harry felt his heart rip to shreds and break apart as he saw he you leave. Albeit he wasted no time in reminding himself that he shouldn’t feel this way. He kept on chanting things like I don’t like her, I don’t like being around her, she’s obnoxious, her head’s too far up her ass.

The real tragedy was that Harry had dated the most affluent of all women, beautiful models and actresses yet he found himself peering at Sarah’s phone everytime it rang, hoping it would be you.

He would dream of you, consciously and subconsciously. It were as if every fibre in Harry’s body told him that he missed you and how your skin felt next to his, and Harry being as arrogant as possible only brushed off the feeling.

Harry wondered about you, where you were and what your were doing at times. He knew you were touring with 5 Seconds Of Summer. He knew you had helped them write their album, Youngblood. Harry had played that album out of curiosity and immediately recognised your work which consisted of youngblood, want you back and empty wallets.

He had fallen into a new and mudane routine, one of checking everyone’s stories and posts on Instagram. Harry happened to check Luke Hemming’s private account, and he saw Polaroid’s of you.

In one, you were naked lying on your stomach as a white blanket only covered you up to the curve your spine, little modesty but enough to cover your ass. In another, Luke had an arm snaked around your waist with a smile etched on his face as you laughed with a hand covering your face. And in the last polariod, your back was against Luke’s chest, his hands around your waist as you lean towards him. It seemed as if your were about to kiss him.

Harry couldn’t sleep that night.

And that’s how the intial steps of engineering Fine Line took place, with sleepless nights and daydreams of you.

—————————————

Fine Line in a single word was an absolute and utter success. Harry felt as if he had been catapulted straight into intense limelight and scrutiny. Everything he did was placed under a microscope, although he was used to it by now.

Harry hummed the melody of She, one of his favourite songs in the album. The muse, undoubtedly being you. The pencil in his hand bounced up and down. He was going through some last minute tour arrangements. He was excited to say the least, Love On Tour was coming together and that exhilarated him.

“Be quiet I’m calling y/n.” Sarah told him. Harry hadn’t heard from you in a long time. You had phoned him a few months ago, to congratulate him.

“Hello?” Harry spoke into the speaker of his phone.

“Hi Harry.” You spoke. Harry felt his heartbeat go haywire at the sound of your voice.

“Aah, to what do I owe this pleasure y/n?” He tried his best to sound calm and collected, afraid his voice might betray him.

“Just wanted to congratulate you. You’ve done some great work on the album Harry.” You said, your voice soft and sweet.

“Thank you Love. How’s everything going with you?” He needed an excuse to hear your voice.

“Same old stuff. Play this show, play that show, write this song and write that song y’know. Really need a break.” You muttered, huffing out a breath in annoyance.

“How’s everything with you?” You added.

“Good. Even better now actually that I don’t have someone like you up my ass the whole time. Songwriting without you is less stressful.” Harry said chuckling.

You feigned shock, a very dramatic gasp leaving your lips. “And here I was thinking we’ve begun to tolerate each other.”

“I know; I know. You could be a bit more subtle when it comes to telling me how much you like me y/n.”

“Like you?! Seriously Harry?! I can barely even look at you without hurling my guts out.”

“Why are you calling y/n?” Harry asked Sarah.

“Because Mitch and I want her at the party Haz.” Sarah said rolling her eyes.

Every year, Sarah and Mitch host a Halloween party. The kind of party that never goes the way it’s supposed to go. It ends up with at least one person missing for a few days. The last time it happened to be Harry, who found himself in a motel, five hours away from their place after he sobered up. Funky times, he called it.

“Quiet as a mouse.” He said, pretending to zip his lips.

“Y/n! Lovie how are you?” Sarah spoke, her voice warm and a lovely smile on her face as she heard you speak. “That’s great! Are you free this Saturday?” Sarah spoke. Harry wish the phone were on speaker, he wanted to hear your voice again. “Yes…. No! Yes, it’s a Halloween party; well the Halloween party.” Sarah was quiet for a moment, her eyebrows sinched in understanding. Sarah went quiet for a moment, whispering a “I know it’s hard.” Harry wondered what bothered you. “You can’t wear jeans! Well not unless they’re a part of your costume.” Sarah said rolling her eyes. “Listen listen, slow down! You can stay at my place yeah?”

“Oh my god I love you I love you I love you. See you. Mwah.” Sarah squealed after the phone call ended.

“So?” Harry asked her, a smile of anticipation on his face as he looked at Sarah.

“Oh wipe off that smile off your face. You’re insufferable.” Sarah said rolling her eyes.

“M’not!”

“We all know you like her. So you can stop with this charade.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about that look.” Sarah said raising her eyebrows at Harry who looked at her with wide eyes at her statement. “There is no look.” He huffed.

“No there is. It’s a ‘i miss y/n but I don’t like her’ look”

“No there’s not.”

“There is.”

“She’s rude, obnoxious and an unpleasant person.” Harry said crossing his arms.

“Sure sure, that’s why you wrote a whole album about her.”

“It was only a few songs!”

——————————————

The music was blaring and loud. You stood outside Mitch and Sarah’s house, contemplating if you should leave or stay. Truth be told, you were exhausted. You didn’t want to party today, not even in the slightest. You wanted to cocoon yourself and stay away from everyone tonight but Sarah convinced you to come. Even dressing up seemed like a hefty chore.

You got out of the car, muttering a thank you to the driver as you handed him his money. You ran your hands over your dress, a sigh leaving your lips. You had dressed up as a pirate, although it was Vanessa, a good friend of yours who had forced you. You intially planned on dressing up in jeans and a tee shirt.

You push through the crowd, searching for Sarah. You find her near the kitchen island with Mitch and Harry behind her. You feel your heart burn when you set your eyes on Harry. Harry was dressed up as a cowboy clad in hot pink. His arms were bare and he was wearing an open waistcoat, showing off his muscled chest. Sarah spots you and waves you.

“You dressed up!” Sarah says, encasing you in a hug. You hug her back. “Sure did.” You said smiling. Mitch huged you tight and you smile a bit at the gesture.

“That’s the finest pirate booty I’ve laid me eyes on.” Harry said, mimicking a pirate accent. You roll your eyes with a small smile as you hug him. “How’ve you been?” You ask Harry. “Tour is kicking my ass. Excited yet scared y’know.”

“Don’t worry about it you’ll do well.” You said, squeezing his hand lightly as you left the trio to themselves.

Harry noticed something was off. You would’ve retorted back to him. Hell, you would’ve done anything but roll your eyes lazily. He noticed your smile didn’t reach your eyes. You seemed sad and exhausted.

After an hour of talking and drinking Harry decided to look for you. He searched the whole house, up and down and couldn’t find you. He was worried to say the least.

He entered sarahs room, scanned it thoroughly and was about to leave but when he saw you, he felt a tug at his heart. You were in balcony, leaning against the railing with your face in your hands as your body racked with sobs. Harry didn’t know what to do.

“Y/n?” Harry whispered as he entered the balcony. He noticed that you had washed your face bare. There was nothing lining your eyes, only your bare heavy red eyes.

You look at Harry with panic ridden eyes, and immdiately begin to rub away the tears. Harry walks upto you and gently holds your hands in his.

“Hey hey it’s okay.” He shushed you.

“I don’t know why I’m crying. I’m not weak I swear.” You said, your voice heavy and hoarse.

“Never said you were.” Harry replied, holding you in his arms. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I feel like, I don’t deserve this life. I shouldn’t be here, in the place I am today.” You said. You began to cry once more, feeling your chest become heavy.

Once that first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream. You bent forward where you stood on the floor, leaning against the balcony and pressing your palms to your face, as you began to cry with the force of a person vomiting on all fours.

Harry felt his heart break even more at your condition. He wanted to soothe you and would even kiss your tears away if that were the price to see you smile again.

“Why do you feel this way Love?” He asked you, tightening his arms around you.

“Because I’ve left behind people.” You said. You couldn’t control your tears.

“I’ve had to do the same y/n. It’s a part of life.” Harry said, your neck buried in chest. You could heart his heart beat through his care chest.

“No no not like that. I gave up on my mom and dad.” You said, squeezing your eyes shut hard. “I left them Harry. I saw them ruin themselves because of drugs and I left them.”

Harry was unsure of what to say. He never expected to hear such a confession from you and in all honesty, you had no clue as to why you were discussing this with Harry. But it felt right to talk to someone about it, especially if that someone was him

“We can go to my place. It’s much more quiet.”

“Okay.”

You sat down in the passenger seat of Harry’s car, looking outside. You were oddly silent. Harry started humming a song to get your attention. You still said nothing. Harry started to sing now. You still said nothing. Harry began to change songs on the radio quickly, one after the other. You still said nothing.

“You look pretty tonight.” Harry said. You only looked at him and nodded. “But the boots y/n, hideous.” He dramatically sighed. “You’ll cause a hole in the windscreen if you keep staring this hard.”

It were as if Harry was desperatly trying to say play with me. You were silent and that’s when Harry decided to pull out the big guns.

“How’s everything with that guy.. Luke Hemmings right?” Harry tried to act clueless. You only rolled your eyes at him.

“What? Broke up with him because he fucked you missionary style?” Harry said, snickering as he remebered your drunken confession.

“Your ass must be jealous of all the shit that comes out of your mouth.” You grumbled. Harry heard the smile in your voice.

“There’s the y/n I adore.” He said, a smile cracking his face.

“Shut up. You’re making too much noise. I can’t even hear myself losing the will to live.” You said as you closed your eyes and laid your head against the back of the seat.

“Great because we’re home.” Harry said as he got out and opened the car door for you. “M’lady.” He said, extending a hand towards you which you took as he led you up the elevator.

You entered the flat and realised it’s still the same. It still smelt of candles and honey. The yellow bean bags lay mushed in the same way and the coffee tables were still dusty. You look around and remembered all the fights, laughter, song writing and mini concerts that took place here. Nostalgia wasn’t very nice to you tonight.

“It’s still the same.” You said, looking around as you stood in the middle. Harry smiled at you. “Never had the time to change it up.” He walked into his room, bringing with him a tee shirt and a pair of boxers. “Thought you might want to change in something more comfortable.”

“Thank you.” You said as you walked into the washroom. You looked at your reflection and reminded yourself to get your act together. You washed your face and tied your hair up in a ponytail and slipped on the tee shirt not bothering to wear the boxers because the tee shirt was good enough at protecting your modesty.

You step outside to see Harry brewing a cup of coffee. He was dressed in a loose tee shirt and a pair of sweatpants. He smiled at you and handed you the cup.

“I’d much rather have whiskey.” You said. Harry raised his eyebrows in amusement.

“Your wish is my command.” Harry said and went to fetch you a glass. “So…” he trailed off as he brought you the glass and drank some from his.

“It was a moment of weakness. Nothing more nothinh less.” You said as you drank.

One glass multiplied to two, two multiplied to four and four came kept on multiplying until Harry had to literally pry out the glass from your hand.

“You’ll have a headache tomorrow y/n.” He said, keeping the glasses away.

“Good thing I know how to handle handle my liquor then.” You said smiling, your cheeks flush and hinted with pink. You lay down on the sofa with a thud and sigh as you stretch your legs.

“You know, I never told you this but Ive always liked coming here.”

“Really?” Harry asked you, his smile gentle and surprised. “Yeah. It’s a good reminder.”

“A reminder of what?” Harry asked you out of curiosity. “That a place away from home can feel like it.”

“This place feels like home?” He asked you, his eyes gentle and warm. “Yeah. I mean, might be the whiskey talking at this point.” You chuckled as you set the glass down.

“I think you’ve had enough.” Harry said.

“Is that a tattoo gun?” You ask, getting up and fetching the tattoo gun. A mischievous smile on your face. “Yes.” Harry said, his eyes wide in uncertainty. “Give me your hand.” You said, as you plugged in the gun into a power outlet. “I don’t think this is a good idea,”

“Shh Harry I know what I’m doing.”

You didn’t know what you were doing.

“Okay.”

You grab the gun and sit across him, thighs touching. You hold his right hand in yours and begin to tattoo half a heart on the outer part of his little finger. Harry watched you intently, brows sinched, your lower lip encased in your teeth as you carefully drew the heart.

“There.” You said once it was completed. Harry looked at you with an incredulous look, “half a heart?”

“Wait a second fuckface.” You said snorting as you the other half of the heart on your left little finger. “Give me your hand.” You said to him. Harry brought his hand next to yours and there it was, a full heart.

“We have matching tattoos.” You said, “wait, we have matching tattoos.” You repeated with a grievous tone. “HARRY WE HAVE MATCHING TATTOOS!” You exclaimed for the third time, bringing your hands to your face.

“You shouldn’t have let me use the gun.”

“You would’ve done it anyways idiot.” Harry mumbled rolling his eyes. “Besides, they’re not that bad if you look at it from a distance.” He said.

“I am pretty good at this though.” You said smugly, a smirk on your face.

“Yeah yeah wipe the smile off your face.” Harry said makinh a face at you that only made you smile wider.

You raise your hand to flick his nose but he catches your wrist in his hand. The smirk on your face faded and Harry looked at you with raised eyebrows as his hand slowly travelled to your elbow, tugging you close to him until you were almost but not fully in his lap.

“Want to try that again sweetheart?”

Everything happened far too quickly. You had lost the ability to comprehend the fact that you had reached such a juncture. You lean in, brushing your lips against his but not kissing. The fingers of your free hand trail the curve of his jaw and settle down at the base of his neck.

Harry chuckled and said “are you holding back Love?”

You look at him with glassy eyes as you remove his tee shirt. Your hands shaking and fumbling with every move. Harry removes your tee shirt hastily as if he were a hungry man begging on all fours for food. He wraps your legs around his torso and dips your backwards until the springs in the sofa begin to squeak. He cups your face in his hand, his thumbs encasing your face carefully. He kisses you. He kisses you until time topples over and you are sweeped by heavy oblivion.

“If you plan on fucking me, do it right now or else get out so I can make myself come.” You said. Harry smirked.

And then, he fucked you. He fucked you hard against the sofa, claiming you as his his. He buried himself in you again and again. Glorifying in the feel of you, your smell, your taste. He fisted his hand in your hand in your hair, holding you in place. Your legs were wrapped around his waist as sinful noises escaped your lips.

Your hands were wrapped around his hair, tugging harshly as you both felt your core muscles tighten. “Oh shit.” You whisper in his ear as you felt yourself uncoil slowly. Harry lolled his head back in his ecstasy as he reached his climax.

“Fuck, you make missionary feel good.” You said completely breathless. “That’s how you deserve to be fucked.” He said kissing you.

———————————————

“Oh my God you were fucking amazing!” Sarah said squealing as she hugged Harry.

Harry started touring again and this time, the whole world was familiar with him and his work. He was proud, he was proud of himself and his whole team but he couldn’t help missing you.

Harry and you had a certain arrangement for a while but both of you broke it off perhaps three months ago.

“Harry?” you called his name. Harry looked up at you, his eyes laden with a sheen of lust as he looked at you. “Yeah?” He asked you.

“I think we should stop.”

“Stop?”

“Hooking up i mean.” You muttered as you fiddled with the hem of Harry’s tee shirt you wore. Harry raised his eyebrows at your eyebrows at your words and rubbed his eyes.

“Why do you want to stop? I thought things were good.” Harry said, evidently confused with your behaviour. You had always been bold when it came to telling how you felt and what you wanted so seeing you like this, timid and quiet was a surprise to say the least.

“Look at us. Im wearing your tee shirt to bed, we talk all day, we’re always around each other and what not.”

“Are you afraid you’re going to catch feelings?”

“Yes.”

“That’s ridiculous. You know that i’d never do anything to hurt you.”

“Harry. We’re different people. I don’t want to tie myself down to someone. You have your career ahead of you and I have mine.” You reasoned. Truth be told, you had predicted this conversation months ago.

“I think theres something more to this y/n. Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing beyond what I said.”

“There is.”

“No there’s not.”

“Is it Luke?”

“No.”

“Stop with the curt answers and spit it out.”

“Oh fuck you Harry. I can’t deal with this right now.” You spat at him, visibly frustrated.

“It’s Luke isn’t it?”

“No it’s not. We hooked up a few times and that’s it and you shouldn’t even care. Why don’t you go and kiss Kendall’s ass like you always do.”

“What are you even trying to say? It’s impossible to have a conversation with you, Jesus.”

“You want a girlfriend. I can’t be one. You want someone who’ll kiss you out of the blue and cuddle you. I can’t be that person for you Harry so stop wasting your time with me.”

“Y/n listen to me-”

“Goodbye Harry.”

That was the last conversation he shared with you. He felt his heart clench at remembering the conversation that had taken between you two.

Harry saw Sarah rush to the door with a bright smile on her face. She was about to open the door but turned towards Harry after mumbling “oh shit.” under her breath.

“Harry.” She called out his name, drawing it out. “Yeah?”

“Y/n wants to talk to you.”

“Okay.” Harry felt his heart burn and his palms turn clammy.

“She’s outside.”

“What?” He exclaimed.

“Okay bye.” Sarah said rushing out the door.

Harry saw you stand outside the door, you hair loose and falling into straight waves with your eyes lined with your signature liner. You wore a short black dress that was sinched at your waist and fell losely at your hips with a pair or red cowboy boots.

“Hi Harry.” You said, your voice unwavering as you stood in the doorway.

“Y/n, i didn’t expect to hear from you.”

“Before you say anything, I’m sorry. I was afraid and this is all so new to me. I fucked up i know. I was too caught up on being tough and not letting you in and what not…”

“Y/n it’s fine listen,”

“No shut up and listen to me first. I’m sorry and I like you, fuck I think it’s more than that and it’s important I get this off my chest. Okay you can speak now.”

“Fuck, get over here so I can kiss you.”

———————————

a/n: I’m yet to re read this so please excuse any typos. Interact with my work, leave me comments, let me know if you liked it! small interaction goes a long way guys! Love you <3

#harrys house #famous!harry #harry fanfic #harry imagine #harry x y/n #harry's house album #harry blurb #harry imagines #harry one direction #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #one direction #one direction imagine

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edupunkn00b · 5 months ago

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Guardian ad Liber, Chapter 1: Patton

Photo by Matt Tulos, CC 4.0. Edited by author. n.b. Liber can mean book or child.

Patton - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Rated: G (might change, might not) - WC: 975 - CW: Family Court, lawyers, social workers are key to the themes of this entire story

This story is a continuation of last year's @loceitweek story, Overruled, a Happily Ever After Buttlerfly story in which Logan, Janus, and Remus fall in love while Logan and Janus are in law school. I'm reusing the prompts from last year's event.

In the old courthouse down on Third Avenue, Family Court worked a little differently than the rest of the courtrooms. Officially called ‘hearing rooms,’ Family Court judges—well, in reality, their clerks—worked hard to make children and parents feel, if not at home, then at less intimidated than in the imposing oak and copper-trimmed courtrooms of their District and Superior Court colleagues.

The hearing rooms were smaller, and lacked the rows of observation seats or even jury corrals of the larger courts. They did, however, feature not two, but three lawyer’s tables. It was rare for a case involving children to not have a specially designated lawyer, a Guardian ad Litem, devoted to serving only the child’s needs.

While Family Court hearing rooms could never be described as cozy, the attorneys and their clients sat less than a yard from the judge’s bench. Many witnesses—usually the younger ones—would testify from their lawyers’ tables.

All that closeness made it all the more uncomfortable when a party to the case was running late.

Such as today.

“Counsel, if your social worker does not arrive within the next”—Judge Bloom glowered at the clock above the near-empty Guardian ad Litem table—”Eight minutes, I will have no choice but to issue a continuance—”

“Your Honor,” Janus began. The defense attorney made a sound at the back of her throat, a not-quite scoff at his impertinence to interrupt the judge. She watched, eyes wide, waiting for the explosion she was sure to come.

Pencil hovering over a mostly-filled yellow legal pad, Logan sat quietly beside him, waiting for Janus to work his charm. He let his sleeve ride up enough to flash the tri-colored braided bracelet they each wore. Janus saw it and stood a little taller.

“Counsel,” Judge Bloom repeated, matching his tone.

One hand pressed to his sternum, Janus bowed his head in the judge’s direction. He did not cast a quick smirk at his overpaid and under-scrupled opposing counsel. “Your Honor, if I may. The Court’s docket is filled for at least another three months. A continuance would mean several more months for the youth in question to struggle in questionable circumstances.”

“We’ve barely begun the proceeding, Mr. Pater-Prince,” the judge said, not unconvinced… just not yet convinced. “Are you truly that confident in the legal strength of your motion to compel?”

“Your Honor!” The group home’s attorney jumped to her feet. “You can’t possibly be entertaining this overreach of—”

“I can entertain any legal finding I determine is relevant,” Judge Bloom interrupting with a tap her her gavel. “And to make a finding in my courtroom, I need both a convincing legal argument and evidence,” she said, looking pointedly at Janus and Logan. “What I need from you, Mr. Pater-Prince is said evidence. I ask again, where is your social worker?”

“Your Honor,” Logan rose and waited for the judge’s nod to proceed. “Grace Peña is the social assigned to this case. She is in the Courthouse today and should be here momentarily.”

“Make momentarily now, Mr. Sanders,” she ordered.

“Yes, Your honor.” With a quick nod to Janus, Logan hurried down the short aisle to the courtroom door and pushed it open. The typical chaotic din of the 8th floor came pouring in: adults arguing, three ringing phones, children laughing, shouting, crying.

He rushed to close the heavy door behind him and scanned the hall. With any luck, Grace wasn’t far.

It didn’t take him long to spot her where she stood holding a screaming toddler in one arm and attempting to complete a phone call with her other. The child couldn’t’ve been much older than two, maybe younger. He was small but strong, and the 4’10” social worker struggled to keep hold of him.

His blond curls were dirty and matted on one side of his head, clad only in too-small jeans and tattered sweater on the chilliest day they’d seen that January. His stocking feet were dirty on the bottoms, so he could walk, or, given the way he struggled, would likely run if she put him down.

“Grace!” Logan called and moved to her side. “Judge Bloom needs you now,” he said loud enough to be heard of the toddler’s tantrum. “She’s threatening a continuance. Bobbi can’t take another night in that group home, let alone—”

“I know, I know, I know. I…” Shaking her head, she shoved her phone into her pocket and shifted the wiggling toddler to her other hip. “He’s an emergency placement—a re-placement I’ve been dealing with.”

She was frazzled, and the little boy in her arms flailed wildly. Three tiny scratches popped out in sharp relief on her cheek but still she held the boy gently if firmly. “Grace, Bobbi needs your testimony. The judge is on board but she needs you.”

Nodding, Grace looked toward the courtroom. “Judge Bloom won’t let the boy in, I’ve already asked the clerk.” Eyes wide, she looked Logan up and down, a sharp desperation tightening the rest of her features. “Here,” she said suddenly, shoving the boy at him as she ran to the courtroom door. Forced to choose between holding the toddler or letting him fall to the floor, Logan tightened his grip, one hand under each of the child’s armpits.

The child fought like a feral cat, blows landing on his arms and chest until he held him out at arm’s length.

“What? What are you—”

“Just watch him,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll be out as soon as the hearing’s over. I’ll explain everything to Janus. It’s his motion, it’ll be—”

“But Grace, I don’t know how—” She ignored him and continued inside, letting the door slowly close behind her. “I don’t even know his name!” he cried.

Grace stuck her head through the door just before it closed.

“His name’s Patton.”

#sanders sides #loceit #loceitweek 2024 #ts logan #ts janus #remus sanders #janus sanders #logan sanders #ts remus #because of course remus got in there #but that was back in Overruled #sanders sides fanfiction #sasi #Happily Ever After Butterfly story

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velleire · 5 months ago

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Text (images removed):

Hey there! This is Indigo, the Guild Wars 2®: Janthir Wilds™ Narrative Lead, and Chloë, the expansion’s Story Design Lead. We’d love to walk you through a high-level look at the Guild Wars 2: Janthir Wilds story to help set the stage for launch next month.

The story of Guild Wars 2: Janthir Wilds is a treasure trove of intrigue and lore, both past and present, and we’ll be encountering a variety of allies and enemies as we venture into the long-awaited region of Janthir. We’ll be picking right up where Guild Wars 2: Secrets of the Obscure™ left off.

Let’s dive in!

Please note: Light spoilers ahead! We’ll be teasing a little bit about the region and current affairs surrounding the start of the expansion, so if you’d rather go in totally unspoiled, you’d best skip this one!

!!!!!!!!!

Bridging Guild Wars 2: Secrets of the Obscure

To get things going, let’s look back at last year. Following the end of the dragon cycle, Tyria had no idea what the ramifications would be. As we learned in Guild Wars 2: Secrets of the Obscure, Soo-Won’s death caused a powerful blast of magical instability that fractured all sorts of magical forces and barriers within Tyria. Aurene immediately went to work reestablishing herself as a filter for those magics, and stability was quickly restored, but we’ve only just begun to understand the consequences of that transfer of power.

Right at the onset of Guild Wars 2: Secrets of the Obscure, the commander was thrown into uncharted territory. We learned that the World Spire, a powerful conduit forged by the wizard Isgarren, was fractured following that blast. The spire was one of the few barriers sitting between us and potential calamity, and it only took a moment for the denizens of a parallel realm to worm their way in. And thus, the commander was introduced to the long-fought war between the Astral Ward and the Kryptis.

Through the story of Guild Wars 2: Secrets of the Obscure, the commander aids the Astral Ward in rescuing the Wizard’s Court while toppling the malevolent Kyptis king, Eparch. While the fight against the Kryptis was won, there are a lot of stories left to be told about our wizardly new “friends.” The Astral Ward has proven to be a worthy ally with a benign cause, but we’ve barely touched the surface of some of their more questionable choices—not to mention their cantankerous leader, Isgarren. We know they helped in some ways, but why didn’t they get involved sooner? Where do we even start with the fractal fiasco?

Time to pull us back to the present. While the commander—now the wayfinder—was fighting back against Eparch in Nayos, the threat of the Kryptis didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of Tyria. In fact, that threat was very much noticed, and nations started talking. At the start of Guild Wars 2: Janthir Wilds, the commander will receive an invitation to the inaugural meeting of the Tyrian Alliance—and oh boy, do they have a lot of thoughts about our latest demonic invaders. After everything the world has endured, Tyria’s patience with destruction is limited.

While we want to keep some of the minutia surrounding the Tyrian Alliance under our hats for now (including our lavish host of guest appearances), in addition to providing the player with a new directive, the alliance also gives us the ability to demonstrate Tyria’s growth outside of the main story path. What’s happening in the rest of the world? How are things progressing when we’re in the thick of adventure?

The Greater Janthir Region

One of the results of this first Tyrian Alliance meeting will send the commander and a very small team of allies into the dangerous wilds of the Janthir region—starting due north of Divinity’s Reach, over the Krytan border. The initial focus of our mission is to establish a diplomatic connection with a small faction of kodan. The lowlanders, while hesitant, welcome us into their village—we spend some time getting to know their culture as we explore the Lowland Shore (which we’ll dig into a bit more in a moment!).

Partway through the story, we’ll be pulled even further into Janthir. That’s when we’ll make our way into the isles themselves. The bay is rich with history—bloody, brutal, sullen history. And we’ve never strayed too close until now! We know that Saul and his fledgling White Mantle went to the isles in search of something, leaving with an Eye of Janthir. We also know that other conspicuous figures have ventured into the region, too. On the first island we reach, Janthir Syntri, we’ll begin to unravel the tragic history behind the ruined village of Gavril.

But that’s a good spot to pause because, most importantly: bears.

The Lowland Kodan

One of the most exciting things to dig into has been our new faction of lowland kodan, who have called Janthir home for many generations. Despite the region being viciously dangerous and inhospitable, they are expert survivalists and have carved out a comfortable—even cozy—way of life in these lands. All lowlanders are capable fighters and learn survival tactics from the time they are cubs. The wayfinder will spend much of their time in Janthir learning about—and learning from—the lowlanders, as they have much to teach.

As a population isolated from their northern kodan cousins for so long and living in a much different environment, they’re a little different than the kodan we are familiar with. Perhaps the most notable difference lies in their spiritual belief system. Unlike other kodan, who revere the will and balance of Koda, the lowland kodan hold in reverence the environment, the relationship they maintain with it, and the responsibility they have as stewards of the land. Rather than viewing themselves as enlightened protectors chosen by Koda, lowlanders act out of a duty to maintain necessary balance in a harsh place where taking is easier than giving and survival can be difficult.

These differences trickle down through other aspects of their society. Kodan leadership is typically a partnership between a spiritual mouthpiece of Koda, called a Voice, and a physical protector, called a Claw. However, the lowland kodan have a Claw as their sole leader, a feature of their society that goes back as far as anyone can remember. The Claw is not without balance, though: a council that represents key roles in the village lends the Claw perspective and advice.

As the wayfinder spends more time with the lowland kodan and begins to earn their trust, we’ll gain more glimpses into their lives and their history as denizens of Janthir.

Heading North to Janthir

The inhabitants of Tyria are on the cusp of a new era. It’s time for nations to ally and work together on a more global scale. Those seeds of alliance were planted under the threat of the Elder Dragons, but the need did not end with the Elder Dragons. As new threats rise, it’s good to have friends on your side. What better place to start than with people living next door? The lowland kodan might prove to be valuable allies…if we can earn their trust and convince them it’s worthwhile to join the global conversation.

We’re so excited to be able to give some first looks into the narrative of Guild Wars 2: Janthir Wilds! There is so much fun existing lore and history to dig into and build upon with new stories and characters. We can’t wait for you to experience it all!

Prepurchasing any edition of Guild Wars 2: Janthir Wilds before the expansion launches will grant you the “Homesteader” title, the Whispering Serpents Pauldrons skin, and a box with your choice of one Serpent’s Wrath weapon skin.

Visit the official store page for full details on the items included in the Standard, Deluxe, and Ultimate editions.

#gw2 #guild wars 2 #gw2 spoilers #janthir wilds #janthir wilds spoilers #news #lore

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seasidesandstarscapes · 3 months ago

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Across the Stars - Chapter 1

Summary: War has come. Barely making it off their planet alive, Don and his friends flee into the depths of space. Where they're headed, none of them know. Not until Don senses a presence calling out to him.

In an instant, Don is thrust into memories long put behind him, a gift he was never told about. Between love, death, and the impending unknown, Don's story has only just begun.

Rating (this chapter): T

Genre: Science Fiction, War, Refugees, Soul Bonds, Mind Connections, Falling in Love, Team Bonding, Developing Friendships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut

Words: 1452

A/N: another whopper??? anyway shout-out to @strangethings-everywhere for help with the title ;v;

AO3

For a time, life was good on Bnerai.

The lush forests stretched across the horizon, outlined by ocean shores with their blue sands. Crops were plentiful, wildlife lived in harmony with those who had come to call the planet home. Generations upon generations lived in peace.

Then, others who despised the joy and prosperity of Bnerai came.

Fire swept across the land, floods washed away homes. Those who survived were forced to flee and even then, only death awaited them.

Whether it was by luck or fate, eight men managed to reach the depths of space, huddled in a ship covered in far too much damage. They had never left their planet before but with the enemy on their tail, surely anywhere would be better than the destruction below them.

Whispered prayers to dead gods, murmurs of fading hope were all that was heard in the cabin, while two untrained pilots charted a course to nowhere.

“Reactor is too unstable to make a jump.”

Joe had not been born on Bnerai. A refugee from another star system, he had made his own life on the planet. He had just started to feel comfortable, convinced his luck had finally changed.

“We’re low on fuel anyway,” his copilot, Don, replied in a quiet tone, pressing a button on the console between them and flipping a switch near his controls.

Glancing back at the other men in the ship, Don pursed his lips. Blood was on hands and faces, one or two of them falling into exhaustion while others stared ahead. When his childhood friend, Chuck, met his eyes, Don looked away with a tremble and breathed heavily through his nose.

“We’ve got two tanks,” Joe tapped a nervous finger. “We could try for Jeqioav.”

Don shook his head and hit another switch. “No. Too risky. The Rin-Palad.”

With a sigh, Joe sank in his seat, staring at the vast expanse of stars before them. Don wanted to offer words of comfort but he knew nothing could ease his mind. All he could do was hope to get them all to safety and even that was turning into an impossible dream.

There had been no time to grab anything beyond the clothes on their back. Running for their lives, they had managed to avoid the hailstorm of lasers, but then could only watch helplessly as they took off from the planet. Don went through the names of his companions in his head.

Shorty. Jim. Gordy. Johnny. Roger.

They were the most unfamiliar, the ones he was getting to know a few weeks ago. Just kids with faraway dreams, their biggest worries being what tomorrow would bring.

Don ignored the rumble of the engines as he pushed a lever forward. Numbing pain carved its way into his chest, but his wavering emotions would be of little help now.

“Doesn’t sound good,” Joe muttered as the gauges stuttered.

With harsh blinks, Don focused on his switchboard. He was just getting used to this ship, understanding every little button and light. Surely, he would know what to do if it came down to an emergency. He had to.

“Where are we going?” A voice tugged Don from his running mind.

From the corner of his eye, Don saw Joe glance at him before turning to the back.

“Outpost. Shouldn’t be too far, Roger.”

Don’s grip tightened on the lever and nausea rose to the surface. It was all on him now. He couldn’t let them down, couldn’t let it all fall to pieces. They had gotten this far.

Closing his eyes, Don struggled to find his strength. He thought of Bnerai, his mother’s house surrounded by fields of bright purple and green flowers, his siblings running along pathways that lit with every step. They had to have made it. He would see them again.

Taking a deep breath, Don charted the stars in the navigator and headed into the unknown.

The hours were long and arduous. No one wanted to talk or cared to, leaving the air thick with regret and longing. Surviving was instinct at this point.

With just a tank of fuel remaining, Don switched to a lower speed, checked the radar for any enemy detections. It was quiet, almost too much so and Don’s worries began to rise again.

“Do you know where you’re taking us?” Shorty spoke, cutting into the thick, stale atmosphere.

Don wanted to lie, to keep hope alive in any way. But his pause said enough and the agitation of the other men began to seep into him.

“We’re just trying to stay ahead of the warships,” Joe answered for him.

There was a sigh from Johnny before, “Going deeper into space doesn’t seem that much better.”

Don winced, his hand flexing around one of the controls. Johnny was right. Their fuel was low, rations would run out in time too. They had to go somewhere. Anywhere. Even a hostile planet was better than the coldness of space.

“There’s a planet not too far,” Don cleared his throat.

The others waited. Being put on the spot made Don squirm and Joe’s arched eyebrow did not help. He hadn’t meant to keep it a secret. Not really. It took Don all his effort to not mumble his next words.

“There’s no history of it in the logbooks though.”

“So we take our chances then,” Chuck gave a small shrug.

It was so simple, wasn’t it? Don pursed his lips, let his head fall back against the seat. Chuck could be the pilot then if he knew so much, but Don kept his mouth shut.

“Can’t the ship tell us if there’s lifeforms?” Roger asked.

“She’s…we shouldn’t push our luck,” Joe explained. “We’re lucky the Husky Clipper’s brought us this far.”

Everyone’s voices were too loud. Don shut his eyes, tried to calm down his shallow breaths. He couldn’t falter, not so soon.

As his fears rose, Don burrowed further into his mind. It was safer to pretend, to imagine himself anywhere else but here. He saw desert sands, green towering trees, mountains and sheer cliffs. The air was fresh, wild and he could feel someone standing next to him. It wasn’t Joe. Wasn’t his family. Don wanted to look, but he couldn’t turn his head. All he could do was listen as a voice spoke to him and him alone.

Come to me.

Don snapped his head up. He was in the ship, the stars surrounding him. Joe had disappeared from his seat and Don was left to wade through what had felt like reality. He could hear his companions arguing behind him but it was garbled in his ears.

His head pulsed, heart stuttered in his chest. A storm was clawing his way out of him and Don could not stop it.

“We’ll go,” he spoke, but it faded over the din of arguing.

He stood, held onto the seat for balance as he faced the chaos before him.

“We’re going to the planet,” Don all but shouted and steeled himself as everyone stared at him. With a sharp inhale, Don found his voice.

“Like Chuck said, we’ll take our chances.”

While there were a few agreeing nods, others looked terrified, lost. Sitting back down, Don collected himself, the shifting mood sweeping over him. If only he could take all their fears, bundle them away. Don ran his thumb along the tips of his fingers, imagined he was drawing their sorrows into him. His muscles tensed, his thoughts shattered, and then there was nothing.

Despite a new weight pressing down on his shoulders, Don could breathe at last. Joe had sat back down next to him and the other men found other ways to occupy themselves. The tension had been lifted for now.

“Don't think the guys ever expected you to talk like that,” Joe smirked. “You’re full of surprises.”

Don responded with a smile of his own, a small shake of the head. “Just trying to keep us alive.”

“You’re doing a hell of a job,” Joe encouraged, settling into his seat. “And I got your back. You know that.”

From day one Joe had been Don’s copilot. It had been easy to fall into their growing trust, one word answers turning into deeper conversation. He had seen Joe walking past his house often as teens, but they never talked. Not until the academy.

Don hoped his face showed his gratitude and tapped out the coordinates to the planet. With his initial hesitation dissipated, Don found a need settling in its place. He had to go to this uncharted territory, to find out what it all meant.

Something, someone was beckoning and Don refused to fight the siren call.

#coxstroke #bobby moch #don hume #bobby moch x don hume #don hume x bobby moch #salix's sideblog escapades #where did this come from where will it go? hell if i know

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late-nite-scholar · 3 months ago

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Aug 16 (Day 5)-Crown/Gentle

Being Emperor isn’t easy. In fact, in some ways, it kind of sucks. Part of a Martin Lives AU. Prompts by @tes-summer-fest

Nord HoK x Martin Septim

Warnings- pregnancy

Wordcount- ~1300

***

It was much later than he’d hoped when Martin climbed the stairs up to the Emperor’s Suite, grumbling a little at how many damned stairs were in this tower. It was too late to read Gemille her bedtime story; she’d have been put to bed a good two hours ago now. There were few things he hated more than the way this damned crown took him away from little things like reading to his daughter and tucking her in.

Once inside the doors of the royal suite and having shut out the rest of the world, he dropped the tall, square-shouldered walk of the Emperor. Ironically, this grand and overly-sumptuous apartment was one of the few places he could just be Martin for a little while. He closed his eyes, letting out a long sigh.

Gentle arms encircled him, a kiss planted on his cheek as a soft voice asked, “How did it go, love?”

“Longer than it should have. But we’ve got the dispute sorted out. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to come see the new Blades taking their oaths. I really wanted to be there.”

“I know. Baurus and I handled things, don’t worry. I’m still technically a Blade myself, among all the other titles. I’m a good substitute for the Emperor when needed.”

He turned, reaching up to take her face in his hands. “Aethelfrid! Don’t say that about yourself! You are, among your other titles, Empress of Tamriel. You’re not a substitute, you’re just as important as I am. Considering how we got here, I’d say you’re more important than I am!”

She grinned. “Yeah, but you’re the Septim. Either way, it went very well. Gemille tried to stay up and wait for you, but she had a long day. She barely made it half an hour past bedtime. Come see what she got today.”

They crept over to the door leading into the nursery. Their daughter lay curled up around something wooden, her orange hair a riot around her. As she shifted, Martin got a look at what she held.

“Is that a wooden sword?” he whispered in disbelief.

“It is!”

“She’s three!”

“That’s probably when I got my first training sword,” Aethelfrid shrugged. “She won’t do proper lessons just yet, but she can have it and maybe we can do a few small techniques like proper grip. She’s very excited to show you.”

His face softened into a smile again, “She’s so much like you.”

“She’s more like you than you think.”

***

Once they’d come away from the nursery door, Aethelfrid took Martin’s hand and led him to another door, behind which the large bath waited. It was all prepared, enchantments keeping the water warm and inviting. As Aethelfrid pushed the robe off of his shoulders, he took off his crown, frowning at it.

“I hate this thing,” he muttered.

“I know, love. But we don’t need it right now.”

He put it down on a small table, feeling the weight of it fall away. For a little while, it could. It was these few, precious moments that got him through the day, that made the weight of the crown bearable. He sighed again.

“I didn’t even ask you how you’re feeling. I’m sorry, my heart.” He rubbed his face with the heel of his hand.

She was still undoing and pulling off his clothes, and he reached out to the hem of her long tunic, beneath which her stomach had begun to get round again. She giggled.

“I’m doing just fine. Feeling good. This feels as though it’ll be another strong, Septim child.” She pulled the tunic over her head. “It’s good it’s starting to show. Some of the nobles have been very pissy that we didn’t just have babies back to back to back. I think they just want to keep me busy and out of Council meetings.”

As they settled into the tub together, Aethelfrid’s strong, deft fingers began to message water and soap through Martin’s hair. He leaned back, savoring the feeling.

“Can I tell you something, my dear?” he asked.

“Of course.” She planted a kiss on his forehead.

“I… I wish we could disappear somewhere. Live quiet lives, just you and me and the children. Maybe somewhere near the mountains.” He’d fallen in love with the mountains during their time at Cloud Ruler Temple. “But there’s still so much to be done, even with all the progress we’ve made.”

Her fingers stopped scrubbing for the briefest second. “I wish we could, too. My family is from Morthal, and it's not too far from there that you could find a little spot in the mountains. Or east closer to Dawnstar. It’s about as far away from everything as you can get.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Let’s retire there. Once the rebuilding’s done and we get everything back on its feet, let’s retire to Skyrim.”

“Deal.”

Martin helped Aethelfrid unbraid and wash her hair next. He ran a gentle comb through the flame-orange waves, wondering if their second child would also inherit this color. They made many grand plans as he worked; discussing the house they’d build and where.

“I’d love a garden,” Martin admitted. “I had one at the chantry in Kvatch. I miss it.” Kvatch was being rebuilt, but even if a new garden was planted, he wouldn’t have the chance to do more than maybe see it.

“I need a training yard. We also need a library.”

“Of course. And enough room for our family. You said you wanted a big one.”

“I do. It’s a Nord thing. We always have big families.”

Well, I will build the house myself to your exact measurements.”

***

Once they’d bathed, they settled down for a late-night supper. More pressing realities took over the conversation; an envoy from Mournhold arriving in two days’ time, a gala planned for the day after that. The trading guild had a petition about a contract to Hammerfell, and builders in the city wanted to meet about their progress. There was also a feast day coming up quickly, and they’d have to find the ceremonial robes to wear to the temple that day.

It seemed never-ending, but Aethelfrid was as firm in her commitment as he, and it was less daunting with both of them facing it together. After all, they’d faced down the forces of The Dead Lands and its ruler together. Once you’ve done something like that, the mundane jobs of contracts and noble posturing seemed much less intimidating.

After dinner, they retired to their bed with a book each. Snuggling up, they did a little reading, before returning their attention to the other.

“I’m sorry for being so grouchy,” Martin kissed his wife’s cheek softly.

“You have a lot on your plate, love. We both do. It’s not easy. It’s a lot of pressure.”

“I really wish we could retire to the mountains.”

“We will. We’ll get things back on track and retire to Bruma. Or Morthal, or wherever you want. Falkreath is very pretty and has less snow.”

“They’re not going to let us just leave like that.”

“When the time comes, we’ll leave before they realize. You have no idea the hidden places and trails and things I found running around doing Hero of Kvatch stuff. I mean it.”

“I would never doubt you on that. And, I hope we can take you up on it.”

“We will. I promise you that.”

***

It took Martin a long time to fall asleep that night. It seemed so impossible! That he could truly leave behind this crown and the weight it carried. But Aethelfrid had done the impossible before. Many times, in fact. He had no doubt she could do so again. One day, he told himself, once we’ve got things back in order.

When he finally fell asleep, he dreamed of a little farm with a garden and a gaggle of flame-haired children.

#tesfest24 #tesfest #tes 4 #tes oblivion #prompt #day 5 #crown #martin septim x hok #nord hok #oc: aethelfrid bright-spear #oblivion au #emperor martin septim #martin lives #being emperor sucks

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crackedegotheories · 2 years ago

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Making Sense of Monologues

At the beginning of Part 2 of ISWM, we see the boot up screen for the universe with some interesting information on it.

There’s a lot to break down here, but I want to focus on the list of senses below the box. Of the 6, only sight and hearing are active, which tells us two things:

1) We were completely nerfed from the start ; and

2) We don’t have ESP, but we can somehow still hear Noir!Mark’s inner thoughts, as well as Wug’s and the Bandit’s in the same universe (and they can clearly hear each other’s at times).

So what’s going on there?

I think the key is that Noir!Mark specifically refers to it as monologuing when he calls out the Bandit on listening in to his. A monologue is a long speech, as in one given by an actor in a play or movie, such as, well, a main character narrating to set the mood for the audience in a noir style story. Think like a character in a Shakespeare play giving voice to his inner thoughts for the sake of the audience while the other characters go about their business.

Yes, I know, I used the word “actor,” but stay with me, we’re not talking about that guy right now.

At other points in ISWM, we and the other characters also hear the voice of the narrator, even talking to him and potentially meeting him in person. Narration and monologues can both serve as narrative devices that normally the characters inside the story wouldn’t notice or draw attention to.

And we’ve seen this before In Space, haven’t we?

Specifically I’m talking about Wilford Motherloving Warfstache.

We heard Abe monologuing to himself before in Who Killed Markiplier, but it’s here in the car scene that we have someone in story visibly react to it.

Wilford not only responds to Abe’s monologue, he does so in the detective’s own mind, leading to the whole freakout and screaming thing before Abe decides to use a taser to skip ahead in the story to something that makes a little more sense to him.

This clearly hasn’t happened to Abe before, despite the viewer also being able to hear his monologue back in Who Killed Markiplier--although since his back was to us, it’s entirely possible he was speaking out loud without realizing it like Noir!Mark does at one point.

So why now, in this video?

Well, it’s not because Wilford gained telepathy and can suddenly read Abe’s mind. He only intrudes when Abe is actively monologuing, and I think it’s for the same reason the characters in ISWM can hear the monologues or the narrator’s voice in certain universes.

It’s not ESP or mind reading or any of that. It’s the characters becoming aware of the fact that they’re in a story, and suddenly noticing the narrative devices or conventions going on around them.

In Space it might be because jumping from one universe to another so much has begun to strain the characters’ sense of reality to the point all of this barely feels real anymore. None of this makes sense, but they try not to draw attention to it or even try to ignore the weirdness, like how Mark avoids directly calling out the narration at first. Even after being confronted with the knowledge that the entire ship is just a set and Mark is an actor, the Captain goes back into the story like nothing even happened.

In the same way, Abe occasionally notices inconsistencies (like the vape in place of the cigarette he was just holding), but doesn’t question it until he’s forced to confront the gaps in his own story.

Wilford though, Wilford knows none of this makes sense. His grip on reality was shattered a long time ago, but in turn that allows him to freely acknowledge and play with the narrative going on around him--interrupting Abe’s monologue, freely moving around when the camera’s not on him, messing with the viewer by getting them to seriously whether they might be Chica...

And it gives him the freedom to send the Captain back into their story when they go wandering off, or slap the Detective out of it when he starts to slip back into his own a little too soon.

Wilford knows what other characters at times seem to suspect--that this is all just a story. And what he reminds Abe when he gets too caught up in the details, and the Captain when they walk away from their own story in search of hidden secrets or clues, is that the whole point of the story is to relax and have some fun.

Yes, even when the multiverse is falling apart.

You know what, especially when it’s all falling apart.

#markiplier #in space with markiplier #wilford motherloving warfstache #iswm spoilers #iswm noir #abe the detective #Wilford Warfstache #cracked theory #monologues are for making sense of the world #and slaps are for knocking that sense right out of you

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justchillinoutinmeb0x · 1 month ago

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Sweet Dreams

Description: Louis and Harry share a hammock on their well-deserved vacation.

constructive criticism or feedback is welcome but please be kind!

Story under the cut

The late afternoon sun had begun its descent from the sky and painted the horizon beautiful shades of orange and pink. The boys were finally given a very well-deserved break from touring. One whole weekend, when the band just got to be boys again, they decided their time was best spent at a beach house where they could just relax. Everything was peaceful, well, almost everything.

“Get your foot out of me knee it hurts!”

Louis grumbled as the curly lad beside him shifted “Sorry lou I'm just getting comfortable” Harry whispered. While the other boys had decided to go for an evening swim Harry and Louis decided they would lounge on the back patio in the little hammock overlooking the beach, they quickly learned that it looked a lot bigger than it was.

“Yeah well your comfort is ruining mine” Louis huffs as he turns his body to make room for Harry “If your legs weren't so damn long this would be perfect.” Harry tucks his legs under Louis's and pulls him so his back is plastered to Harry's chest causing Louis to yelp.

“I thought you loved my legs” Harry whispers making Louis's face go bright red as he squirmed in Harry's grasp.

“I do love them but keep it down the lads might hear you” Louis hisses as he glares at the beach in front of them as if it had been the one speaking.

“Lou they're in the water they can't hear anything”

Louis pouts and tucks his face into the hammock making Harry chuckle as he wraps his arms around Louis’s torso “Babe you know the boys won't care when they find out, we’ve been practically glued to each other for 2 years now” he whispers in lous ear as he uses his bony fingers to move louis chin “They know lou.”

He bites his lip as he looks at Louis's beautiful face, which is o angry and kissable .“Can I?” Harry whispers just inches away and Louis barely has time to nod before Harry connects their lips, a soft but passionate kiss that Louis happily returns.

The moment heats up as a small makeout session starts, needing the affection of the other like its air. The hammock sways softly as the boys become more neddy, both craving more and more of the other. Harry uses the hand he had wrapped around Louis's torso and slowly slides it up his chest making small noises escape Louis’s mouth. He pushes his body back into Harry looking for any little bit of friction he can get, harry whimpers softly as he tries to move them to a better angle, causing the hammock to rock a bit too much and-

BAM

The hammock almost flips as Louis falls to the ground, squeaking “Babe!” Louis scolds as he realizes what happened. Harry does his best to sound concerned through his laughter at the sight of Louis on the floor. “Oh darling are you okay?” Louis stands up dusting himself off and giving Harry a nasty glare.

“Don't act worried you wanker” he huffs and Harry can't contain his laughs, opening his arms in an almost apology “Come here love you can lay on my chest that way you won't fall” he says softly. Louis looks hesitant and looks at the water where the other band members are completely distracted with attempting to drow Liam.

“Love I promise it will be okay” Harry reassures as he pats his chest “Come here boy” he jokes and Louis smacks his arm “twat” he mumbles as he carefully gets back in the hammock, relaxing into Harry's chest with a small smile, anxieties almost melting away.

“Lou love, I know you're not ready to tell anyone yet. And I completely respect that i promise we'll go at your speed, but the boys love you, gay or straight you know that don't you?” Harry whispers as he runs his hand through Louis's hair “I know” Louis whispers back, his voice small. He only ever acts like this with Harry, small and vulnerable; he can do that with Harry, he can just be himself.

The sun has almost set over the water as the two boys lay together enjoying each other's presence “I love you lou” Harry whispers, when he gets no answer he looks down to see Louis fast asleep, he smiles as he kisses the top of his head “sweet dreams love” harry closes his eyes as well letting the gentle glow of the sunset and the laughs of his friends lull him to sleep.

#ask #fanfic #one direction #1 direction #louis tomlinson #niall horan #harry styles #zayn malik #liam payne #1d #larry stylinson #larry #louis and harry #1d fanfiction #one direction fanfiction #1d louis #1d harry

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xtruss · 2 years ago

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The research vessel Nathaniel B. Palmer works along the ice edge of the Thwaites Glacier ice shelf in Antarctica. Photo by Zuma Press

How We Came to Know and Fear the Doomsday Glacier

It’s the world’s most vulnerable glacier and key to the stability of the West Antarctic Ice Sheet, yet we’re only now getting to know Thwaites Glacier. What took us so long?

— By Marissa Grunes | January 3, 2023

RAM! The bright red hull of the US Coast Guard icebreaker Glacier slammed onto the ice. Every rivet of the 95-meter-long ship shuddered with the impact. It was 1985, and the researchers aboard were sailing through one of the world’s most remote places: the Amundsen Sea, Antarctica. A graduate student onboard, Jill Singer, got to try her hand at breaking ice during the voyage. “You push the throttle or thrusters up,” she explains. “It would lift the front of the Glacier out of the water enough to drop down on the ice and break it.” RAM! After several days of charging at sea ice with bone-aching resolve, the Glacier broke through.

“[We] broke into … a beautifully calm, ice-free sea, the eye in a hurricane of ice,” glaciologist Terry Hughes later wrote of the moment—one he had been dreaming of since at least the 1970s when he first started worrying about glacial collapse.

The Glacier became the first ship to sail into Pine Island Bay.

The US Coast Guard icebreaker Glacier in Pine Island Bay, Antarctica, in 1985. Photo courtesy of John B. Anderson

The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change predicts sea levels will rise almost half a meter by 2100. That water will displace several million people on coastlines around the world. Much of the water will come from the region around Pine Island Bay. Specifically, it will come from what’s been dubbed the “Doomsday Glacier”: Thwaites, one of our planet’s largest glaciers, which is roughly as extensive as Great Britain.

Glaciers form when snow is compacted into ice over hundreds of years. As the weight of new snow and ice presses down, the ice beneath starts to flow like a river. Thwaites is an outlet glacier, meaning it flows all the way to the ocean. There, its coastal edge stretches 120 kilometers in a dazzling white wall of ice that looms up to 40 meters above the surface of the ocean and reaches over 200 meters deep.

Thwaites and its neighbor Pine Island Glacier drain about one-third of the West Antarctic Ice Sheet—the ice sheet extending west from the natural dividing line of the Transantarctic Mountains. The two glaciers are breaking up into icebergs far more quickly than new ice can be created. Already they contribute five percent of annual sea level rise, or roughly 0.18 millimeters annually: the equivalent of dumping over 20 million Olympic-sized swimming pools into the ocean each year. And if Thwaites collapses, its shape and location mean the rest of the West Antarctic Ice Sheet could go with it. All told, that’s enough water to raise sea levels by over three meters, redrawing coastlines and transforming the planet we know.

Map data by ArcGIS

Researchers like Hughes have been raising concerns for nearly 50 years about the glaciers that flow into Pine Island Bay and the surrounding Amundsen Sea embayment. Yet coordinated international research of the region only took off in 2018, with the formation of the International Thwaites Glacier Collaboration. Today, the potential collapse of Thwaites Glacier is among the largest environmental threats to global civilization—and we’ve barely begun to understand it. What took us so long?

As it turns out, Pine Island Bay is one of the hardest places in the world to reach. The story of how we know what we know about Thwaites is also a story of the challenges—and triumphs—of science at the bottom of the world.

Pine Island Bay is a small indent in the coast of West Antarctica. It feeds into the stormy and ice-choked Amundsen Sea—the only sector of Antarctica that no nation has bothered to claim. It’s remote even for Antarctica: the closest permanently occupied research station is 1,500 kilometers away.

The first ship known to have reached the Amundsen Sea was commanded by Captain James Cook. In January 1773, he and his crew on the HMS Resolution were the first humans to cross the Antarctic Circle, the invisible line of latitude at 66° south. Cook had been sent south by the British government to determine whether land existed below Australia, a region of longstanding curiosity to members of England’s leading scientific institution, the Royal Society. A year later, the Resolution again crossed the Antarctic Circle but was stopped short by what Cook described as an “immence Icefield … so close packed together that nothing could enter it.” The ship was at S 71°10′, W 106°54′. According to legend, young midshipman George Vancouver clambered to the bowsprit and waved his hat over the icy waters, declaring himself the southernmost human in history. The ship’s coordinates became known as Cook’s ne plus ultra—Latin for “no more beyond.”

When Cook turned back, the Resolution was less than 300 kilometers directly north of Thwaites Glacier. It’s a short distance by today’s standards, yet when a modern edition of Cook’s journals was published in 1971, his ne plus ultra in that region remained unbroken. In 200 years, no one had sailed farther south into the Amundsen Sea than Cook.

Pine Island Bay was first seen not by sea, but by air. In the 1940s, the US Navy organized Operation Highjump, which sent aircraft carriers to map different parts of the Antarctic coast. The USS Pine Island, named for Pine Island Sound in Florida, was sent to the Amundsen Sea. But the Pine Island never entered Pine Island Bay. Instead, its aircraft returned with the first aerial views of the embayment.

With little incentive to brave the harsh conditions of the Amundsen Sea, the US Navy and Coast Guard focused on other Antarctic regions over the following decades. By 1980, Pine Island Bay remained the largest unmapped coastal area below the Antarctic Circle.

The aircraft carrier USS Pine Island in the Amundsen Sea in January 1947. Its aircraft took the first images of Pine Island Bay, the location of Thwaites and Pine Island Glaciers. Photo courtesy of National Archives, photo no. AAE-518

Around that time, though, Hughes had begun to ask questions about the region. The glaciologist, who called himself a “cowboy scientist,” was outspoken and had a flair for making dramatic statements that could distract from the science. But he was also respected as a keen theorist whose papers bristled with mathematical equations predicting the behavior of glacial ice under various conditions.

As early as the 1970s, Hughes was concerned with two problems not then widely studied: a warming planet and the potential collapse of the West Antarctic Ice Sheet. He had become involved in a major project to reconstruct the growth and collapse of ice sheets during the last ice age. This project had drawn his attention to Pine Island Bay as a coastal area where the outer edge of glaciers might calve or break apart into icebergs with especial rapidity. Hughes had noticed that satellite images showed a surprisingly short glacial shelf. Why did the glacial ice not extend all the way across the bay? Outlet glaciers generally flow into an ice shelf, a floating expanse of ice reaching over the water. In certain cases, this floating shelf can buttress and protect the “grounded” inland ice that rests directly on bedrock. A similarly sized glacier in East Antarctica, David Glacier, flows for 100 kilometers over the ocean. Pine Island Glacier’s floating ice, by contrast, is half that length.

At the time, scientists knew the planet was slowly warming, but many believed Antarctica was safe: simply put, it was too cold to fail. Hughes wasn’t so sure. He worried that the lack of a large floating ice shelf in Pine Island Bay indicated instability among the nearby glaciers, which reach deep into the heart of the West Antarctic Ice Sheet. In 1981, he dubbed Pine Island and Thwaites Glaciers the “weak underbelly” of West Antarctica: glaciers whose weakening could trigger the catastrophic collapse of the West Antarctic Ice Sheet. And he did mean catastrophic. Most of West Antarctica might be open water within 500 years; the oceans could rise by over a meter in one human lifetime. With the bombast that raised eyebrows among his colleagues, Hughes titled one of his research papers “Deluge II and the continent of doom: rising sea level and collapsing Antarctic ice.”

An aerial view of a shrinking glacier: Pine Island Glacier between 2000 and 2019. Photos by NASA

When Hughes sailed past Cook’s ne plus ultra and entered Pine Island Bay in 1985, he was a guest onboard with no official funding. Yet he hoped to learn more about Pine Island Glacier—particularly, whether it was flowing too fast to be stable. Ice and wind conditions in the bay were so bad, though, he was unable to collect useful data.

For the National Science Foundation (NSF), which had funded the research cruise, curiosity alone couldn’t justify the fuel needed to ram ice day and night on the taxpayer’s dime. If there were a glaciological fire smoldering in Pine Island Bay, as Hughes argued, NSF needed to see the match. Hughes hadn’t found it.

In fact, early satellite data was casting doubt on Hughes’s theories. In 1972, fresh from the space race, NASA and the US Geological Survey had launched the first Earth Resources Technology Satellite (now renamed Landsat). “Remote sensing has revolutionized glaciology,” says glaciologist Karen Alley. “It’s not that long ago that nobody even had a picture of the whole continent,” she adds, referring to Antarctica. “And now we have continent-wide ice thickness and flow velocity.”

Throughout the 1980s and early ’90s, studies based on Landsat satellite images suggested that Pine Island Glacier was not only stable, it was actually gaining ice: 50 gigatonnes of ice per year, according to one estimate. It was fattening up to match its nickname, the PIG. Thwaites Glacier—an afterthought in these studies—was apparently growing, too.

It seemed Pine Island Bay shouldn’t be considered an area of concern. Hughes wasn’t convinced. The bay’s lack of floating ice shelves still raised his suspicions. Without data to support his theories, though, there was little he could do.

How did the studies using Landsat get it so wrong? “There’s a lot it doesn’t do,” Alley explains. Landsat specializes in capturing data at the surface; it turns out the crucial information Hughes needed was hidden beneath the ice, where Landsat couldn’t reach. But a different type of satellite technology was about to turn glaciology on its head.

In 1991, the European Space Agency launched the first European Remote Sensing satellite. It carried instruments for a new technique called radar interferometry. Eric Rignot, a glaciologist at the University of California, saw the technique’s potential, particularly after following its use on a NASA space shuttle a few years later.

Images from the Earth Resources Technology Satellite (now called Landsat) revolutionized Antarctic science, giving researchers aerial views of the continent and its ice. Photo courtesy of the European Space Agency

Using radar interferometry, Rignot was able to pinpoint facts about the glaciers that had once been invisible. He could see deformations in the ice with accuracy up to one millimeter. He could read ice movement not year to year, not even month to month, but by the hour. Most importantly, he could locate the grounding line.

When it comes to glacial collapse, the action is at the grounding line, where a glacier lifts up from the bedrock and begins to float over the ocean. It’s also where ocean water gnaws at that glacier’s base, loosening it from the bedrock. Much of West Antarctica’s ice is grounded well below sea level, in a bowl-shaped marine basin. Warmer ocean water can flow downhill into this bowl, melting the ice at the grounding line and causing it to move inland. When floating ice melts, it doesn’t change sea level: it’s already displacing ocean water, like ice cubes in a glass of water. But when the grounding line retreats, once-grounded ice melts. That does increase sea level and also destabilizes the glacier: the ice is thinned out from below and breaks apart more easily. In the sloping marine basin beneath Thwaites, the wall of submerged ice stretches over 1,000 meters deep, giving the water an enormous surface area to work on. The water can push the grounding line inland rapidly, only slowing if it encounters bedrock that is elevated—say, an underwater ridge or mountain that “pins” the ice. Thwaites Glacier has one such pinning point, about 40 kilometers behind the current grounding line. That pinning point sustains pressure against the glacier’s interior, like a flying buttress pressing against the wall of a cathedral. If the ice shelf is loosened from that pinning point, the glacier may pour its ice out even more rapidly.

The grounding line is where the bedrock, ice, and ocean meet. Pinpointing its location and how it moves helps inform researchers about a glacier’s stability. Illustration by Mark Garrison

Researchers can’t tell how fast the grounding line is retreating if they don’t know where it is. With this vital information, Rignot was getting melt rates orders of magnitude higher than ever seen before. He calculated that a major glacier in Greenland was melting by up to 20 meters per year. (Previous data had suggested that even the most vulnerable glaciers melted about 10 to 20 centimeters annually.) Rignot knew the figures would look wild to many of his colleagues. “Woah! Maybe my data is bad,” he thought, “but the evidence is piling up that these melt rates are way bigger.” He received pushback throughout the 1990s. It was hard for many to believe glaciers could disappear that fast. What could destroy a glacier so quickly?

The answer arose from an unexpected source. An oceanographer at Columbia University in the City of New York, Stanley Jacobs, thought the ocean might be involved. He knew of Hughes’s work and in 1991 had published a paper urging “icebreaker penetration and detailed oceanographic sampling” of the “largely unknown” Amundsen Sea. He wanted to take a ship back to Pine Island Bay.

The ocean’s importance may seem obvious now, but at the time researchers were more focused on flow velocity than on what happened when the glacier reached the ocean. In glaciology, Rignot says, few thought the ocean could matter: “It wasn’t on the horizon.”

The ocean is notoriously difficult to study. It’s expensive and dangerous, even in the best conditions. Rignot’s improved satellite data was so good that he mostly worked from his office in California. Where the ocean was concerned, though, satellites weren’t enough. Satellites can give temperatures only at the surface, where ice melt and subzero winds make polar water very cold; they can’t reach the deeper warm water.

“To get data in the ocean, you have to go there,” Rignot says. In 1994, Jacobs did just that.

No one had broken through the ice around Pine Island Bay since the voyage of the Glacier a decade earlier. “We were going into essentially uncharted waters,” recalls the oceanographer Adrian Jenkins, who joined Jacobs onboard. “No one knew where the edge of the continental shelf was—it was mismapped.”

Their cruise started in the more accessible waters of the Ross Sea, south of New Zealand. There, the team found extremely cold ocean water—about -2.2 °C, well below the freezing point of fresh water. As they followed the coast toward Pine Island Bay, though, something changed. They entered Sulzberger Bay, around the corner from the Ross Sea, and found water at 0 °C.

The water got warmer still as they approached their goal. “We managed to get the ship into Pine Island Bay, which was obviously the place above all others I wanted to get,” Jenkins recalls. “And the observations changed our thinking about the region.” Startled by the warm temperatures, he taught himself the scientific software MATLAB onboard and coded up some rough estimates. “I found these really high melt rates, like 100 meters per year—I thought way too high, way too high,” Jenkins recalls. “I thought there must be something wrong; I spent the next 10 years trying to figure out what. Turns out it’s not so much of an overestimate as I thought.”

An image captured on February 11, 2020, by the Copernicus Sentinel-2 mission, shows ice that had recently calved off the Pine Island Glacier. Photo courtesy of the European Space Agency

Initially, though, the team had trouble publishing their results. A paper they submitted to a major publication was rejected without outside review, dismissed as not being of sufficiently broad importance.

Rignot became a key ally. His work had focused on Greenland, but he knew of Hughes’s seemingly niche obsession with Pine Island Bay. He was intrigued by Jenkins’s high melt rates, which aligned with the figures Rignot had found in Greenland. The warm water that Jacobs and Jenkins had discovered in Pine Island Bay brought the whole picture together.

“I had heard this theory on the instability of West Antarctica,” Rignot recalls. He began looking at radar interferometry data on Pine Island Glacier’s grounding line, and “Boom! It was flashing on my screen. Something big was happening here.” He took almost two years to publish his calculations: “I wanted to be darn sure that what I was seeing was real,” he says. “Because if it was real, that was very significant.”

At a conference in 1997, Rignot presented findings indicating that Pine Island Glacier’s grounding line was retreating by roughly 1.2 kilometers per year.

“This was where Eric’s work set the world alight,” Jenkins remarks. Jenkins, Jacobs, and their colleagues had shown that the glaciers were melting faster than previously thought, due to the warm ocean. But melting can still be a relatively stable process and not always a problem. The danger arises when the grounding line retreats, giving warm ocean water ever greater access to the interior of the ice sheet. In these cases, the glacier may not melt slowly like an ice cube—it may collapse like a cathedral.

Today, Rignot’s calculation holds: researchers believe Pine Island Glacier’s grounding line retreated by around one kilometer per year in the two decades before 2011 (it seems to have slowed down recently). Thwaites continues to retreat around the same rate of one kilometer a year and loses around 37 gigatonnes of ice annually. (That’s enough to bury the contiguous United States five millimeters deep in ice every year.) When Hughes started looking into Pine Island Bay in the 1980s, he may not have understood the mechanisms, but he was right to worry.

Changing the direction of Antarctic research is like driving an icebreaker, though. It’s slow and expensive. After the 1994 cruise, it took NSF six years to send a ship back to Pine Island Bay, and the ice was so thick on the first attempt (in 2000) that Jacobs couldn’t get close to Pine Island Glacier. In the meantime, he and Jenkins continued publishing with Rignot to strengthen their case that warm water was rapidly shifting the grounding line.

Finally, in 2009, their ship broke through. It had been 15 years since anyone had sailed these waters. Now, though, they had new cutting-edge technology: Autosub3, a fully automated underwater drone. Autosub3 confirmed Jacobs’s original suspicions that the ocean was the culprit: a deep band of warm water, called Circumpolar Deep Water, was getting under the glacial shelf. It had already eaten an enormous cavity under Pine Island Glacier.

Thwaites Glacier as captured by the Copernicus Sentinel-2 mission, November 26, 2020. Photo courtesy of the European Space Agency

The next generation of polar researchers responded to these developments at the bottom of the world. David Holland, a Canadian mathematician interested in modeling ocean-water-air interactions, had been on the second plane to land atop Pine Island Glacier in 2007. He knew that ocean currents respond principally to wind and other atmospheric patterns, and had developed a sophisticated weather station to find out what the atmosphere was up to. He and two assistants camped out on Pine Island Glacier five summers in a row before they shifted their focus to Thwaites.

They were still figuring out where to focus their research, he explains. Building on previous work, Holland’s team started at Pine Island. But, he says, “while we were there, we thought, Shouldn’t we be next door at Thwaites?”

The storms around Thwaites and its vast extent make it especially difficult to study. In 2004, a joint project between the United States and the United Kingdom had included the first systematic airborne survey of the topography beneath Thwaites, revealing patterns of ice flow into the glacier’s interior and its connection to the surrounding ice sheet. The scope of its possible impact was becoming clear.

Thwaites is larger than Pine Island Glacier—much, much larger. It has a wide front—over 120 kilometers—and its base slopes steeply down to nearly 1,000 meters below sea level. These dimensions give the warm ocean water a lot of ice to work with. Moreover, Thwaites’s catchment basin, meaning the ice that flows into the glacier, is around 700 kilometers long, the distance from Boston, Massachusetts, to Washington, DC. In short, it’s the perfect candidate for collapse on a massive scale. Today, Thwaites contributes more sea level rise than Pine Island Glacier by a factor of four to one.

For decades, though, the focus had been on Pine Island Glacier. The two glaciers are neighbors—but on an Antarctic scale of over 50 kilometers of thick sea ice between the most accessible ice fronts. In fact, since earlier cruises had been so intent on reaching Pine Island Glacier, it’s possible that nobody saw Thwaites from shipboard until 2019. And as Holland found when he sailed there in January 2022, the glacier’s disintegration is making it even harder to reach.

Headlines in December 2021 announced that the Thwaites ice shelf might “shatter like a car windscreen” within five years. That’s hard to say for sure. We do know that the floating ice shelf acts like a buttress, keeping Thwaites’s inland, grounded ice stable. We also know that the ice shelf is fracturing into icebergs at unprecedented rates. If the ocean drives the grounding line back too far, it can cause runaway melting.

Thwaites is a cork in the bottle of West Antarctica. Its vast size and central position mean that its collapse could trigger a reaction across the entire West Antarctic Ice Sheet. It’s possible this happened around 125,000 years ago, when sea levels were about six to nine meters higher than today. West Antarctica won’t fall apart overnight. It might take a few hundred years. But if it does happen—as many researchers fear it will—it will redraw global coastlines.

Holland sees the planet in terms of a simple principle: “play with the atmosphere, expect change.”

Unusually warm ocean currents are melting the ice. Those currents are driven by shifting wind patterns: stronger winds displace cold surface water, allowing deep warmer water to rise up and pour over the continental shelf into the marine basin beneath the glaciers. The winds, in turn, respond to one thing: changes in air temperature. And those changes are caused by greenhouse gas emissions.

In short, Holland says, “the winds will change the ocean, the ocean will melt Antarctica—and the water is coming to visit you.” There is evidence that atmospheric changes can raise sea levels by several meters within the space of a century. But the systems are so complex that they’re hard to predict. We have apps on our phone to tell us the weather tomorrow, Holland remarks, but we’re a long way from having such apps for the ocean or ice sheets. In fact, the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change asserts that predicting the “dynamic contribution” of ice sheets “remains the key uncertainty” in sea level rise projections.

Science is a fallible, communal human process; it moves by slow self-correction, threading its way through uncertainties like a ship among icebergs. In Pine Island Bay, where the ocean charts themselves are still being updated, precision is vital. But precision takes time, and Thwaites’s time seems to dwindle with each new study.

— Marissa Grunes is a Science Writer and Literary Scholar who has written on the cultural and scientific history of Antarctica for Atlas Obscura, Nautilus, and the Boston Review, among other places.

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timeandspacenovelist · 2 years ago

Text

Because Every Christmas Is...

Rating: G Chapters: 1

Summary: Noticing the recent dour Doctor, Yaz and Dan hatch a plan to make this Christmas one of the best she ever had.

Read this story on another platform: Archive of Our Own

“What’s wrong, Sheffield?” Dan asked, taking Yaz out of her thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“You’ve had that sourpuss look on your face all day.”

“So?” Yaz rebutted, a bit more defensive than she wanted.

“So, Christmas is in a few days and we just saved the entire universe. It’s a time for smiling and relaxation. Not moping about. “

It had been a couple of weeks since their encounter with the Flux and the trio had begun life in the Tardis together. Yaz had shown Dan as much of the place as possible as he acclimatised quickly. The trio had had one or two trips since, but since the Tardis wasn’t in the best of shapes, they chilled in Liverpool again for a bit.

“You’re right. I just…”

It wasn’t an easy thing to admit, really. How can you really say that your entire mood is spoiled because one person isn’t happy? In Yaz’s mind, it was quite easy to say it. Of course, seeing her like that upset her, but she couldn’t say it out loud, so she did the next best thing. Her eyes were drawn towards the console as a blonde locked Timelord was hard at work, fixing her ship.

“Ah. Now I get it.”

“Get what?” Yaz asked, feigning ignorance.

“You’re worried about her.”

Her staring wasn’t the best way for her to hide that fact, she would admit. Tugging her shirt sleeve, she remarked, “I wasn’t. I mean, it were just that it… She’s just..”

She sighed.

“I thought she’d finally be happy again. Ever since we started tracking Karvanista, she’s been different.”

“Different how?”

“More serious, more focused. Less time for having fun.”

“Well, outside of any unforeseen circumstances-“

“Which happens to us a lot…” Yaz interjected.

“We have time now dedicated to being together and having fun.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Yaz, it’s Christmas!”

“Exactly!”

They noticed the Doctor looked over in their direction as they shouted, but she quickly went back to working on the console. They couldn’t discuss this here. Not when she was in earshot. So Yaz took Dan by the hand and they headed to the hallway.

“Look, in all the time that I’ve been here, we’ve never once celebrated Christmas.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“Is she like the Grinch?”

“That’s the weird thing. Sometimes, she’ll go on these tangents about how she helped a real life Scrooge love Christmas, or how she saved two children from an ice lady or she even met the real Santa!”

“She… she knows he isn’t real, right?”

“Honestly, with some of the things I’ve seen over the years, I think I’m on her side with that.”

Dan had to admit she had a point there. “She seems to like Christmas fine then. Why don’t you guys celebrate it?”

Yaz shrugged. “Every time I ask her, she’d just say, ‘Everyone always does Christmas. Let’s do New Year’s!’ Since I like New Year’s too, I just go along with it.”

There was a bit of silence as both pondered what it all meant. Dan more so than Yaz.

“What’d you thinking?”

“That whatever happened the last time she celebrated Christmas, it was enough to swear her off of it.”

“Maybe. She tends to just repeat the same anecdotes. Whatever happened last Christmas must have been something pretty bad. “

Then the light bulb went off in Yaz’s head. It was definitely a risk, but if they could pull it off, it could be amazing.

“… So maybe we change that.”

“Change what?”

“Maybe we make sure that that isn’t her last Christmas memory.”

“You want us to…”

“Throw her a Christmas party!” she near shouted.

“Shh!”

“Sorry!” She quieted down.

But it couldn’t stop Yaz from excitedly striding around the hall. She couldn’t help herself. Why didn’t she think of this earlier? It seemed so obvious now.

“It’d be great! I can get decorations from around the Tardis and find a place to decorate.” She said before pointing directly at him. “You can find presents for her!”

“Yaz, I barely know her. What am I gonna get her?”

“I’ll let you know what to buy. I already have my ideas.”

Dan smirked. “I must admit. I’ve not seen you this excited since… well, I’ve not seen you this excited.”

“Trust me, Dan, we’re gonna give her the best Christmas ever!” ______________________________________________________________

The pair split off as Yaz bounded back into the console room. Their absences were not unnoticed, however.

“You two were a long time in there.” The Doctor said, looking up from her work.

“Were we? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Seem pretty excited too. What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing. We were just chatting and didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Hmm..”

She then hammered a piece of the console, which was enough to get Yaz to jump. The Doctor noted she was acting weird and wanted to probe more into that.

“Something about Christmas I heard.”

“Just that… he’s gonna be heading home to celebrate. He’ll let you know when he’s ready to go. Shouldn’t be too long from now.”

“Aww. Was really looking forward to the beach visit.” She said, not able to hide her disappointment.

“Yeah, I.. what beach visit?”

“I’d had a plan of taking you two to a beach planet to just relax for a bit. We all need some R&R, to be honest. “

“Well, we could always still go into the swimming pool.”

She shook her head. “Wouldn’t be the same, would it?”

“No..”

“We can go after he comes back. We could do with some time in one place for a bit.”

“Maybe we can finally have that talk too..” Yaz remarked under her breath, audible enough for the Doctor to hear her.

“Yaz..”

“You told me you’d tell me everything.”

“I know. I just..” she said, placing her hand on Yaz’s shoulders. “I wanna do it right and in someplace special..”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” She said with a smile.

But the moment was then interrupted by the loud beeping of the Tardis.

“What? What are you talking about?”

More beeps followed.

“In my room?!”

“What’s wrong?”

“The Tardis is being a COW… and she seems to have done some redecorating in my room, even though I explicitly said not to!” She angrily shouted before turning to Yaz.

“Sorry, I-“

“I get it. Sort it out.” Yaz comforted her, offering a smile.

The Doctor took off with a sprint, nearly running over Dan in the process as he entered the console room.

“I will! Hi Dan!”

“Hi… Doctor.” He managed to say as she zoomed past.

“Wonder what’s caused the Tardis to be like that.”

“Ahem..”

Yaz’s eyes widened as a grin grew on her face. “No!”

“Tardis and I came to a bit of an agreement.. I think. If I understood all those beeps correctly, she’ll distract the Doctor while we get everything prepared. “

“Great!“

“So where’s the room you’re gonna decorate?”

“You don’t worry. I’ll handle that..”

_____________________________________________________________

And the perfect plan fell into place. Yaz briefed Dan on exactly what he needed to get as he tried to keep track of what she wanted. Eventually, she just wrote a list and sent him on his way. She rushed over to the room and inspected it. It was small, but cozy. Nice enough for what she had hoped. If push came to shove, two of them could go on the floor while the other sat on a chair. She did not know exactly when the Doctor would be finished but she expected (hoped) that the Tardis would do her a big favor here. After everything the Doctor had gone through since the Flux, this would at least be enough to finally let her relax and calm down.

Eventually, after tirelessly working at it (with some Tardis help), she got it done. Although her clothes didn’t escape the battle unscathed, as she noticed paint, bits of a Christmas tree and even glitter on her shirt and pants. She was annoyed, but it could be cleaned. As she strode out into the hall, she met up with Dan again.

“Hey, Yaz, I… what happened to you?”

“Getting everything ready wasn’t as… clean as I thought it’d be. I’ll change in a minute. I-“

She then noticed that Dan was dressed in a nice jacket, a Liverpool shirt, and jeans. A good look on him, but not quite the dress she wanted for their mini party.

“Why are you dressed like that?”

“…. I’m going home to celebrate Christmas with me parents.” He sheepishly admitted, with his hands behind his back.

“But the party here!-“

“Will go on without me easily.”

“Look. After everything with the Flux, I don’t know how much time I have with them. I don’t wanna waste it.. Besides, you guys are better off celebrating without me, anyway. It’s you two who never got a Christmas together. We had ours during the Flux.”

“Yeah but-“

He rubbed her hair before smiling at her. “I dropped the presents off in your room. Got it as close to what you wanted. Send the Doc my Christmas greetings. “

And with that, he took his leave headed out. Despite her disappointment, Yaz couldn’t stop now. So she headed to her room and picked up the gifts before dropping them off at the intended place. Now came the important bit… ______________________________________________________________

Knock ,knock, knock

“Is it safe to come in?…” Yaz said from the outside.

“It is now. Finally.”

Once she stepped inside, everything seemed pretty normal. The Doctor’s room was as she remembered seeing it the few times she was in there. What was different was that its main inhabitant was looking less than pleased, tired and worse for wear.

“Three hours of rearranging, bargaining and then begging with the Tardis, but I eventually got it back to normal.”

“You look shattered. “

“You’re not looking too hot either.” The Doctor noticed. “What were you doing?..”

“Uhh.. same as you, redecorating my room.”

“Well, I hope she was much nicer to you than she was to me.” The Doctor said as she sighed, sliding onto the floor. “I could really do with a cuppa right now.”

“Me too.” Yaz told as she extended her hand to the Doctor who duly took it. “Come on.”

And so they got their cuppas, but instead of heading to the console room, Yaz took a detour, much to the Doctor’s confusion.

“Where are we going?”

“I just need your advice on something. Something important.”

“Sure. Anything.”

She pulled her along as they slowly made their way towards the room. The nondescript door gave nothing away, to the real surprise inside. Yaz stood at the side giddily, confusing the Doctor even more.

“Yaz… what’s going on?”

“Step inside and you’ll find out.” She said with a smile.

So she did… ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Doctor’s eyes widened as she fully stepped inside, being greeted instantly by the sweet aroma of custard creams. The walls were painted pink, freshly done too. There was a fireplace that seemed to spout fireworks rather than actual fire. The mantle contained stockings, a card that looked like it was from Yaz to Dan, a Liverpool FC snow-globe, and above those… two blue hearts.

Next to those were photos. Photos she had taken of and taken with Yaz. Below those were her camera and her globe, the same one she remembered spinning with Yaz the other day. There was also a purple chair with a blanket and a… Pting and a rabbit. She assumed that’s what those two leads were for. She’d ask about those later.

And lastly, a purple mat which housed a rather lovely Christmas tree, two presents and a plate of custard creams and some juice below it. And the star topper was one that had ten points inscribed on it, similar to the sticker she had bought for Yaz recently as well.

To say the Doctor was in shock would be an understatement. All that seemed to move was her head as she tried to keep track of everything she had seen.

Yaz, however, had expected glee and shouting and excitement. So the silence she was getting was worrying her, as she turned away from the Doctor.

Had she gone too far? Should she just have respected the Doctor’s boundaries and not planned all this? Part of her just wanted to walk out right now and forget this ever happened.. Maybe it was a waste. Maybe she thought she knew the Doctor but once again didn’t. Maybe she..

“Yaz… this is one of the greatest things anyone has ever done for me.”

Yaz slowly turned towards her, and couldn’t help but tear up herself at the waterworks coming from her friend currently.

“.. Really?”

“Really really.”

“Well, it’s from Dan and me. He bought the presents, and I decorated here, but we-“

The Doctor interrupted her as she rested her cup down and did the same with Yaz’s, before she firmly pulled Yaz in for an embrace. Both women simply enjoyed the warmth of each other, not caring about their current attires. But once they released from each other, the Doctor couldn’t help but notice the bits of the tree and glitter now stuck on her.

“Seems like you’ve left your mark on me.” The Doctor giggled, which Yaz was quick to copy.

“Maybe so.”

“I think we should really get cleaned before we come back here.”

“Agreed.”

Little did they know that they’d have appropriate attire waiting for them as they’d finished. A small treat from the Tardis.

Two showers later, and the Doctor quickly got back into the room. Clad in a nice blue sweater with some blue pattered pajama bottoms, she opted to finish it off with her scarf, a lovely gift from Yaz all those years ago. The woman in question soon arrived as well. And her own attire would catch the Doctor off guard once again.

“That’s…”

“Your shirt, yeah. Well, a sweater version. Guess the Tardis made it for me.”

“Along with the scarf?”

“This? Nah, I made this myself.”

“I didn’t know you knitted!”

Yaz couldn’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm. She was like a kid sometimes.

“Yeah, I started it as a thing to keep me occupied when I was with Dan and Jericho, and it just kept going and going. Finished this a few days ago.”

“Well, I think you’re very talented. It looks really cute.”

“Thanks..” Yaz blushed.

“And you do too.”

Yaz’s blush went even deeper as the Doctor soon followed suit.

And so the night continued, both women enjoying the fruits of this labor of love. Despite taking some convincing (there was an agreement to keep them in a special room afterwards), the Doctor warmed to the two pets that the Tardis trio now seemed to have.

The pair talked all night long, not wanting to focus on any problems or arguments or secrets. Just wanting to live in the present of what they had, while they still had it. With help from the Tardis, Yaz could even get her knitting needles as she made a scarf for the Doctor this time.

Refilled cup in hand, the Doctor’s eyes fell onto Yaz’s as she stopped knitting. It seemed as if time had stopped in its tracks. Both women couldn’t wipe the smiles from the faces even if they wanted to (and they did not want to). Neither cared about the red blushes they currently adopted either. Everything was solely about being in this one moment and just being with each other.

“We should do this every Christmas.” Yaz finally said, warmly smiling.

“I’d like that, very much.” The Doctor answered, tearing up.

“Are those tears for me, big-head?”

“Yeah. Yeah, they are.” She laughed as tears continued to trickle down her face. “Because every Christmas…is last Christmas…”

“Merry Christmas Doctor.”

“Merry Christmas Yaz.”

#yaz x thirteen #thirteen x yaz #thirteenth doctor #thasmin #yaz khan #yasmin khan #yazmin khan #christmas

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timeless-fanfic · 2 months ago

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Restoring Faith

Chapter 9: A Family Forged in Faith

Word Count: 1332

Andrew x Reader

The sun had begun its descent, casting a warm glow over the village as Andrew sat outside, watching the children play in the fading light. It had been several months since he first met Eliam and Miriam, and as time passed, he had found his place in their lives. What started as an act of kindness had slowly blossomed into something deeper—a bond that felt like family.

Eliam was no longer the cautious, guarded boy he once was. Though he still had moments of hesitation, Andrew could see how much he had changed. The boy’s laughter came easier now, and he didn’t shy away from Andrew’s presence. In fact, Eliam had taken to seeking out Andrew for advice on small matters, like how to fix a broken tool or how to catch more fish. Andrew cherished these moments, knowing that earning the boy’s trust had been no small feat.

Miriam, ever full of joy and curiosity, had long since declared Andrew as part of their family. She adored him, often pulling him into her games and asking him to tell stories of his adventures with Jesus and the other disciples. Andrew found it impossible to resist her, his heart full whenever she smiled up at him.

But the real change, the one that had filled his heart with a quiet, enduring joy, had been with [Y/N].

They had taken their time, navigating their shared grief and slowly allowing themselves to open up to one another. It hadn’t been easy, but through every conversation, every moment of quiet companionship, Andrew had felt their bond deepen. There was something sacred in the way they had grown together—rooted not just in affection, but in faith.

As Andrew leaned back against the wall of the house, his gaze shifted toward the doorway where [Y/N] stood, watching the children with a soft smile. Her eyes glistened in the evening light, and Andrew couldn’t help but feel a surge of affection for her. He knew that her heart had been guarded for so long, but over time, she had let him in. And now, as they stood on the cusp of something new, he felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the way their lives had intertwined.

[Y/N] walked over to him, her steps light but purposeful. She sat beside him, her hand resting gently on his arm. “They’re happy,” she said quietly, her gaze still on the children. “We’ve come so far.”

Andrew nodded, his voice soft. “We have. It’s been... a journey.”

She turned to him then, her eyes filled with warmth and something else—something deeper. “I never thought I could feel this way again,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “After losing my husband, I didn’t think my heart could open again. But God... He had other plans.”

Andrew’s heart swelled at her words. “I’ve felt the same. I never expected to find a family like this... to feel like I belonged somewhere outside of my mission with Jesus. But I do. I belong here—with you, with them.”

She smiled, her hand slipping into his. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? How God brings people into our lives when we least expect it. He doesn’t replace what we’ve lost, but He gives us something new—something beautiful.”

Andrew squeezed her hand gently. “He does. And I think... I think that’s what this is. Something new. A new beginning for all of us.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their shared journey settling over them. The love they had built wasn’t born out of fleeting emotions or rushed decisions—it had grown slowly, nurtured by faith, trust, and the steady hand of God guiding them.

“Andrew,” [Y/N] began, her voice hesitant but filled with conviction. “I want to talk about our future. About... what this means for us.”

He turned to face her fully, his expression open and patient. “I’m listening.”

She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. “I’ve been thinking about everything we’ve been through—the children, my in-laws, Miriam’s illness... and us. I’ve been afraid for so long, afraid of moving on, of loving again. But now... now I realize that my fear wasn’t necessary. God didn’t bring you into our lives to replace what was lost. He brought you to help us heal, to help us find joy again.”

Andrew’s heart ached with both the weight of her words and the joy that accompanied them. “I feel the same way. I was afraid too—afraid of letting myself care so deeply, of losing focus on my mission. But being here, with you and the children... it’s shown me that God’s plan is bigger than any one path. He’s brought us together for a reason.”

[Y/N] smiled, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I love you, Andrew. I never thought I’d say that again, but I do. I love you, and I want us to be a family—not just for Eliam and Miriam, but for ourselves. I want to build a life with you, rooted in our faith and the love we’ve found.”

Andrew’s breath caught in his throat, the words he had longed to hear finally spoken aloud. He had known for a while now that he loved her—deeply, with every part of his heart. But hearing her say it, knowing that she felt the same, filled him with an indescribable sense of peace.

“I love you too,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “And I want nothing more than to build that life with you. A life grounded in faith, in the teachings of Jesus. A life where we can raise Eliam and Miriam together, as a family.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder, her hand still entwined with his. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

For a while, they sat in the quiet of the evening, watching the children play, their hearts full of hope and gratitude. This was their new beginning—one shaped by love, loss, and the steadfast hand of God guiding them toward a future they had never anticipated but had come to cherish.

Later that night, after the children had been tucked into bed, Andrew and [Y/N] sat by the fire, the crackling flames casting soft shadows across their faces. The air was cool, but the warmth of the fire and their shared presence made the night feel comforting, almost sacred.

“Do you think Eliam will be okay with this?” [Y/N] asked quietly, her gaze fixed on the flickering flames.

Andrew considered her question, knowing that Eliam’s acceptance was crucial to their future as a family. The boy had come a long way since they first met, but Andrew understood that this new step in their relationship would take time for him to fully accept.

“I think he’ll come around,” Andrew said gently. “He’s strong, and he loves you and Miriam more than anything. It might take time for him to adjust, but I believe he’ll see that this is what’s best for all of us. He’ll see that I’m not trying to take anyone’s place—I just want to be part of your lives.”

[Y/N] nodded, her expression thoughtful. “I hope so. I just want him to feel secure... to know that he’s not losing anything, but gaining something more.”

“He will,” Andrew reassured her, his voice filled with quiet certainty. “We’ll make sure of it—together.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, the weight of the day slowly lifting as they sat side by side, their hearts full of faith and love. This was the life they were building together—a life rooted in the teachings of Jesus, grounded in their shared faith, and filled with the love they had found in one another.

As the fire crackled and the stars twinkled above, Andrew whispered a silent prayer of gratitude—for the family he had found, for the love that had blossomed against all odds, and for the future that lay before them.

#the chosen fanfiction #andrew x reader #the chosen x reader

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tylerh2004 · 1 year ago

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Tyler Hannaford - Waiting in Hope - CRWT Proj

Writing Prompt: Waiting for the doors to open

Quick Description: The following is a story created for my University creative writing project that follows the story of a man and his journal entries as they are split up into 3 different moments in time. It is the same man throughout and follows his thoughts and feelings as he experiences the various things happening in his life.

June 9th, 2025

Hello. My name is Asher. Asher Moon. I am writing this as a documentation of my thoughts and what I have been through for my wife, Lara Moon, in the chance she finds this. Lara, if you are reading this that means you either found me at the library and I gave it to you, or you made it and found me dead. As of writing this, it’s been two days since it began. What everyone is calling “the beginning of the end of the world”. I don’t know what it has been like around the world, but from what I hear it's a similar story all around. Eternal Diamond, the world's biggest corporation, experimented with a new type of nuclear power that went wrong. Causing the world to be covered in this thick toxic gas, that kills anyone who inhales it for too long. Only just a minute of the stuff is enough for the strongest adult to drop dead. The only way we’ve found to survive it so far is by using gas masks with these strong filters which usually was only used within a government capacity. However, though the gas masks are strong, they only last about a week before the filters need replacing. People have already begun fighting each other for any filters that they can get their hands on. Along with food, water, any medicinal products, and any batteries or chargers of any sort. It’s been getting crazy. Barbaric even. I’ve had to fight off someone already. I’ve never done that before and it spooked me. I hope I didn’t hurt him too badly. Couldn’t really tell after I ran away. Anyways, I have just arrived at the town you told me to go to over the phone. I’ve been trying to contact you since then but I think something has happened to the satellites. A terrorist group or something took control of them. They're not letting anyone use them now unless you strike a deal with them first. So I won't be able to contact you through any cellular service or wifi. I’m glad we at least had that last call before the takeover happened. I was really worried for you when this all started to happen and you were still outside of the continent for your business trip. It was nice to know you were ok for now at least. I made it to where you wanted me to wait for you by the way. The library within the small town up in the mountains called “Hope” where we both grew up and met each other. Crazy to think that stage of our lives happened 10 years ago. Feels like this place has barely changed as I walk around. I even found the old home you used to live in. I took a photo of it with a camera I found lying around in the nearby gas station and attached it into to this journal. Maybe it’ll give you a little boost when you get here and can see it in person. For now, I’m camping out in the library as you instructed me to so it can be a safe rendezvous point for us. Can't believe that we used to work here during our later teenage years. It’s practically untouched from then. I’m not sure what else to write honestly. Things have just been crazy lately. Like the world as I knew has been completely changed. I hope things have been going better for you than they have for me. When this all began and after I had first contacted you about what was going on, I then tried to find my family to make sure they were safe. I found them all dead and looted on the side of the street where they lived. Carelessly tossed into a ditch. Turns out there was only a limited number of gas masks to go around. They weren’t lucky enough. If only I got to them sooner. Maybe they’d still be here. Anyway, I’d better get some sleep. I’ve set up a few cushions from chairs to craft a makeshift mattress and I’ve placed it next to the main door of the library. That way, when you come, I’ll be right there. I love you Lara. See you soon.

(photo of Lara's old house that Asher took)

(photo of the library as Asher arrived)

August 7th, 2025

It’s been 2 months since this all began. My life has become a systematically put-together way of living adapted for this new world of today. Every morning, I wake up and immediately turn to see if the door is opened and have so far always been disappointed with the results. I then, if it's nearing the end of the week, go to quickly change out the filter within my gas mask. We were lucky with this town you know. Turns out within the back of the Walmart that’s here, there was a huge amount of filters, gas masks and other hazmat equipment. Even found some old ridiculous training videos I’ll watch for fun sometimes. I don’t know why the people who lived here all abandoned this place before I even got here. I found some maskless bodies lying around. Maybe they just couldn’t find it. Maybe they just didn’t know what was wrong with the air until it was too late. Or maybe someone did it to them on purpose. I don’t know. Not sure if I want to know. I gave them a proper burial after that discovery anyway. Hopefully, they're in a better place than this. Anyways, after making sure my mask filter is alright for now, then I’ll grab some dehydrated fruits for breakfast from that very Walmart. I’m trying to go through those, vitamins, canned foods, and I’ve been stuffing baked goods into ziplocks and freezers to try and keep them safe for consumption for as long as possible. They may not taste good but no use complaining when I got an entire Walmart for myself. Not many people are fortunate like me to have something like that. Then finally, I’ll go on a radio I found to check to see if you have sent out a distress signal. I spend hours. Sitting there. Flipping through the channels. Every time. Nothing. It’s soul-crushing every day to turn off the radio for the night and head to bed. Some nights I won’t even go to bed. Cause what if you send a signal when I’m asleep? Then I wouldn’t be able to hear it. I just hope you're ok. It’s been 2 months since we last called and I’ve waited here for you ever since you told me to wait at this exact place for you. Honestly, your decision for our rendezvous point to be a library was a pretty smart move. I haven’t encountered any raiders yet. Cause who would think to raid a library up in a small town within the mountains? Though it has gotten pretty lonely up here. Haven’t seen a human face since I settled in this place. An alive one at least. Those eyes of the corpses I found here that I wrote about earlier. They reminded me of my family. I keep thinking about them. What they must have gone through in their last moments. Calling out to everyone as they slowly suffocated in the toxic air. Did the surrounding people try to comfort them in their final moments knowing nothing could be done? Or did they continue to walk facing away from them, pretending like their lives meant nothing to them? This question haunts me whenever I dwell on it. Instead, I’ve been listening to that song we danced to on our high school prom night. “Sunsetz” by Cigarettes After Sex. It helps remind me what I’m enduring this all for. You. I hope one day I’ll wake up and see that door open, with you standing in front of me. That’ll make it all worth it. I love you. I hope you know that Lara.

youtube

June 7th, 2045

Lara. I’m scared. It’s been 20 years. 20 fucking years. What if you’re already dead? Am I enduring this hell for nothing? Waiting for a saviour who doesn’t exist. Constantly being tormented by the memories of when everything was ok. As I am writing this, I’m now in the back of the library. There is a gun. Right next to me. I can’t tell you how many nights I’ve come home from the radio setup and stuck it into the roof of my mouth. Different factions of Raiders have begun to find this town and have started to come every couple of days or so in small groups of 2 or 3 at a time. They haven’t found the library and they never will. It’s too hidden and elevated from the rest of the town for them to discover it. Only reason someone would come here is if they already knew this place existed. But that doesn’t mean I don’t encounter them in the lower parts of town. I end up having to kill them all one by one. Using the guns and hunting knives I’ve found around town. I can’t even remember how many I’ve killed by now. Dozens? Hundreds? I do remember one thing though. They’re lifeless eyes once I’m done with them. They matched my family’s eyes that day. What have I done. what have i done. Food supplies have also been running low. I currently have only been surviving through the thousands of cans of dog food within the Walmart. However, I feel as though I am a rabid animal whenever I eat it. Not that there are any anymore. They all went extinct from the toxic air only a couple of months after this all started. I barely even remember what a dog looks like anymore The only thing that is keeping me going is the picture I have of you. Even though it has started to fade, it’s the only thing I have that gives me some semblance of the concept of peace. I don’t know what I am supposed to do anymore. Would you want me to continue trusting you? Even after all these years? That you would hold onto your promise of meeting me here? Or. Would you want me to give up. Accept the possibility that you’re dead. And finally, grant myself the swift end I’ve fantasized about all these years. I just wish I could talk to you one last time for that answer. That’s all I want. I spend almost every night staring at that main door. Not even sleeping. Just staring. Hoping. Is there a limit to hope? Have I reached mine? I’ll probably just end up staring at the door again tonight. And continue the cycle of doubt tomorrow. A part of me just won’t let me end this cycle and I don’t know why or how long it will last. All I know is that I love you. Though so much of me might have changed since the beginning of all of this I can say for certain the one thing about me that hasn’t is my love for you. The idea of you is the only thing keeping me going for now.

did i just hear the door open

(The last line is quickly scribbled at the bottom of the page away from the rest of the previous entry. There are no more following entries in the journal after this one.)

(the last line written in Asher's Journal)

(a faded image of Lara)

#Youtube

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roosterbox · 1 year ago

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October Almost-Drabbles 10/9: Ghost

Pairing: Arthur/Eames

Word Count: 502

Additional tags: family fluff, adorable kid OCs

Side note: Julian is my kid OC from a pair of fics up on AO3. The second kid wasn’t born yet in those, but she’s here now. (Honestly can’t remember if I specifically said in the fics whether the second kid was going to be a girl or boy. But whatever - not like a doctor hasn’t been wrong about that before.) Consider this a kind of side story, lol. Also, fluff incoming.

———

A burst of squealing laughter met Arthur as he opened the door. He was barely inside before a small figure draped in what looked like a bedsheet ran past him, from the kitchen towards the den. Still screaming with laughter. After a moment, his husband lurched after the figure, hands twisted into claws. He was growling, face an exaggerated expression of evil intent.

“Juuuuuulian,” he snarled out. “I’m going to-“ Eames paused, noticing Arthur. “Welcome home, darling,” he straightened up and kissed him before immediately dropping back into his evil stance, continuing as if nothing had happened. “-I’m gonna get youuuuuu. Come out come out wherever you aaaaare!”

Giggling from the living room. Both men shared a knowing look, and headed that way - Arthur normally, Eames still creeping. Their little ghost was crouched behind the sofa, clearly trying to stifle his laughter. The floral sheet covering him was sheer enough to see through, but not quite enough for him to know the jig was up, apparently. Robin, watching from her playpen in the middle of the room, let out a happy little shriek when she saw Arthur. A shriek, then a string of adorable baby babbles that, by the adults’ interpretation, meant ‘Daddy.’

Julian looked up at that. “Daddy’s home?” He asked, just in time for Eames to swoop in and grab him. His Papa tickled him mercilessly before divesting him of his elaborate bedsheet disguise. “Nooooo, my costume!” He cried out, reaching for it.

“Not the good sheets, Jules.” Arthur bent to pick up his daughter, who had begun making outstretched grabby hand gestures at him as soon as she saw him. She gurgled happily once in his arms. “Let Papa and I make you an actual ghost costume next time. One that won’t drag on the floor so much.” He looked closer at the discarded cloth. “We’ll give it eyeholes too. Those are important.”

“But Daddyyyyyy,” Julian tried to whine before succumbing to another giggle fit. Eames knew his son’s best ticklish spots, and was all too happy to take advantage.

“But nothing, kiddo.“ Arthur reached over and ruffled Julian’s downy hair, recently trimmed but still full of soft curls just like his Daddy’s. “We’ve got time before Halloween, don’t worry.”

Eames turned to drop a kiss on Robin’s cheek, who was still babbling contentedly at Arthur. Telling him about the trials and tribulations of her day, of course. “Your sister needs a costume too, after all.”

“And you?” Their son glanced between them with wide, hopeful eyes. “We’re all getting costumes, right?”

The adults shared a look. Eames raised an eyebrow in a silent question. Arthur gave a slight nod before adjusting his hold on Robin.

The other man grinned. “Us too, Jules. Family costumes. We’ll make a theme of it, even.”

Even Arthur had to laugh at his son’s enthusiastic cheer. And now he had some extra planning to do. Three weeks was plenty of time to come up with a decent group Halloween costume theme, right?

#october drabbles #dreamhusbands #arthur x eames #ghost #when I first came up with the prompt list #I thought this one would yield a creepier story #but my penchant for fluff cannot be contained #lol

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kammartinez · 1 year ago

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If you care about books, read more than just a handful on holiday, or have been in a bookshop recently, you will be aware of BookTok: a book community on TikTok. The videos shared on BookTok include fiction recommendations, summaries of the lessons of non-fiction releases, tips on how to become a better reader, and personality quizzes (what popular novel fits your star sign?). On TikTok the hashtag #BookTok has more than 160 billion views, and drives millions upon millions of book sales.

This certainly seems like a good thing – we should be glad more young people are reading. But while BookTok has caused a surge in reading (or at least in book-buying), it tends to promote a particular type of book: conventional romance novels, trashy thrillers, self-help and the kind of scientifically dubious non-fiction you’d be be recommended by an account manager on LinkedIn. Within this already narrow field, an even smaller number of books and authors appear repeatedly: Lessons in Chemistry by Bonnie Garmus, They Both Die at the End by Adam Silvera, or anything by the “queen of BookTok” Colleen Hoover.

The rise of BookTok and the new popularity of these types of books has sparked the growth of a specific, lucrative publishing market. Last week the Bookseller reported that ByteDance, TikTok’s parent company, had begun approaching potential authors in the UK to become the first to work with its new publishing house, 8th Note Press. It had been rumoured since May that the company would move in that direction, and the Bookseller reports that one author the company approached (seemingly a BookToker) received a low advance offer (just £2,675) and digital-only publication in the first instance. A story from the New York Times earlier this month found American authors were being courted in a similarly haphazard fashion – and that ByteDance had hired Katherine Pelz, a former Penguin Random House editor specialising in romance, as its new acquisitions editor.

The creation of a TikTok-specific press feels almost inevitable. It comes alongside the rise of not just BookTok but influencer publishing generally, when people with large online fanbases become the authors of memoirs and unoriginal novels that top best-seller lists. In recent years, dedicated literary agencies have been founded to sell books by YouTubers and TikTok stars, and it has become commonplace to see Instagram entrepreneurs pick up six-figure book deals. ByteDance’s 8th Note Press, however, could be the first sign of a new shift: instead of allowing the publishing industry to capitalise on those with big social media presences, social media platforms are attempting to keep the profits for themselves.

This isn’t necessarily bad for books – but it’s unlikely to be a good thing. Publishing – like most creative industries – already, overwhelmingly, produces formulaic, mundane works that appeal to trends to make a quick buck. It’s an industry that knows most people barely read (the median person reads three to five books a year in the UK) and that, when they do, they tend to want something popular, straightforward and breezy. This doesn’t leave a lot of commercial space for challenging or innovative stories, or for taking a risk on lesser-known authors.

The problem isn’t that the books published by 8th Note will be cheap and poor quality (though most probably will be). The problem is that this signals a culture-wide shift in which social media trends dictate how art is produced. This isn’t just happening in books – in film, TV, music, artists are being lifted directly from social media. Today, one of the quickest ways to find creative success is to go viral first.

The result is that every creative industry is saturated with the same smooth, unchallenging content – we see things we’ve seen a million times before, with slightly different characters, in a slightly different setting, confronting a slightly different twist after their slightly different meet-cute. What does anyone gain from consuming near-identical stories over and over? While they may be easy to sell and appeal to a large demographic of readers, they are also part of a self-fulfilling prophecy: when only certain stories are promoted, and readers are given so few options, these will inevitably remain popular. (I’d guess most readers would be interested in perspectives that offered them something new.)

BookTok success is not a science. As one friend in publishing told me, BookTok campaigns yield inconsistent results and you can’t guarantee, even with the best marketing team in the world, that your new release will be embraced by the community. But it feels inevitable that a press like 8th Note will become a major player in the publishing landscape. While plumbing the depths of BookTok may yield a handful of good books, we shouldn’t expect it to unearth stories or voices that are new. It will elevate more of the same, drowning out the unusual or the unexpected – even if they don’t make it on to the average bookshop window display.

#books #publishing #internet #tiktok

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kamreadsandrecs · 1 year ago

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#books #publishing #internet #tiktok

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