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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 2 years

Text

Compromised

This is gonna be a slow burn mini-series where Harry's involved in a mafia and Y/N has been assigned to help dismantle it.

Part 1 is some back story and setting the characters into their roles.

WC: 6k

It had been five years since Y/N was assigned to help bring down a branch of a European mafia called the B.F. Clan. They were a notorious group that had been responsible for a huge spike in drugs and illegal weapons transports across the globe. She had been sucked into figuring out who the person calling the shots in North America was, but she had finally closed in on him and she knew how to get close to him.

“Agent, the director is ready for you now.” The receptionist told her and she nodded and stood before rushing into the large conference room. There were a few people sitting around the table and she had to share with them the breaks she had made in this investigation. Finding this information had taken her four months of deep investigation, but it had paid off and she needed to report before she enacted the next steps of her mission, cripple the North American arm of the operation.

“Y/N, I hope you bring good news.”

“Oh, I certainly do.” She sighed and set down a file and opened it before sliding it to the head of the table, “That is Dominic Thomas, he’s in charge of North American operations. He generally resides in an isolated estate near Boston. This leads me to assumed that they’re also smuggling via cargo ships. I know we only know of air, but there has to be more coming in.” She explained and they nodded.

“So how do we get this asshole?”

“Glad you asked.” She smiled and then dropped down the other two files she brought with her, “We can go one of two routes.” She said as they flipped the files open, “He has a family, they don’t know about Dominic’s affiliation with B.F.C. Wife’s name is Lucia, and their daughter is 9, her name is Sandy. Their son is 7, his name is Daniel. They currently reside in Essex he apparently just tells them that he’s away on business a lot.” She informed, “In folder number two you’ll find a Mr. Harry Styles. He seems to be rising in B.F.’s ranks rather quickly, he’s 28, from London. I noticed him two years ago, he was just helping with local distribution in the London precinct. Next time I saw him, about 3 months later, he was in charge of London in general. I kept tabs on him and he seems to have a lot more power now. Anyway, him and Dominic have been spending a lot of time together. I’m not sure why yet, but he’s young, ambitious, I’m sure if we take him down we can get to Thomas.”

“I would say the family is the last resort, especially since they don’t know about Dominic’s affiliations to this mafia. We start with this Styles guy.”

“I agree.” Y/N said.

“OK, so how do you plan on getting to him?”

“He has a very prominent tattoo parlor that is used to funnel some of the mafia money through. I will show up to an appointment and check it out.”

“You’re going to get a tattoo?”

“Yeah, I’ve always wanted one.” She shrugged and the man shook his head in disbelief, “Look, this is just meeting one. I’m gonna make eyes at him and see if he’ll bite. The goal is to get him to invite me to the event where he’s supposed to meet Thomas later in the year. Trust me, I’ve got a plan worked out.”

“At least we’re getting closer.” Another person spoke up.

“Exactly.” Y/N said and the director nodded.

“Very well then, keep in touch.”

“Yes, sir.” She smiled.

*********

It was a long process to prepare this mission, even securing the appointment with Harry, it was a 3 month wait just for a consultation appointment. It wasn’t guaranteed he’d even tattoo her, but she’s hoping he would. He’s a busy man, he’s been traveling a lot. She followed him the last three months and everywhere he’d go there was a tattoo expo. It intrigued her when she discovered that he’d actually spend most of his time at these expos and visiting other tattoo parlors and tattooing. None of the parlors he’d visit seemed to be involved with B.F.. Although he was doing business for B.F. on these trips, it only seemed to be a very small part of his trip’s agenda. Y/N couldn’t wait to unravel this man.

********

Y/N liked London, it’s one of her favorite places in the world. She’s never really been here to enjoy the scenery or sights, usually it’s work, like now. She’s here for work, but she’s going undercover so she gets to have some measured fun. She sips on her coffee as she keeps her eyes transfixed across the street as she watched the tattoo parlor. Her appointment is in half an hour and while she’s excited, she’s nervous. Soon enough, it’s three minutes ’til and she’s making her way out of the coffee shop and across the street. She makes it through the threshold a minute before her appointment and walks up to the desk. The man standing there has long blonde hair and is covered in tattoos from his neck all the way down to his fingertips. He’s wearing some red framed glasses accompanied by a friendly smile.

“Good afternoon, I’m Y/N. I have an appointment at 1:30pm.” She says.

“Perfect, right on time.” He smiles and types something into his computer before looking back up at her, “Please follow me, I’ll take you over to Harry’s office.” Y/N nodded and smiled and followed the guy as he slid open the double doors that revealed the tattooing stations. She looked around and saw a girl with bleached buzzed hair focused on the piece she was tattooing on the back of a man’s calf. Then there was another guy, also with long hair, but it was set in a pony tail and he seemed to be starting to set up his station. He nodded his head in acknowledgement when he caught her looking and she just smiled politely before she stopped at the very back of the space, the only obstacle between her and Harry was a bright pink door littered with stickers, some faded, some looked new, but it was the last thing she was expecting. The front desk worker knocked a few times and soon enough he opened the door, presumably after being told to come in.

“This is Y/N, your 1:30 consultation.” She heard.

“Thanks, Tom.” She heard faintly.

“You can go ahead.” Tom said kindly and she smiled.

“Thank you, Tom.” She said and he smiled back before she stepped inside and he shut the door.

Y/N jumped a bit when she heard the door shut behind her and briefly glanced back only to see her reflection there before taking the office in again. She was just transfixed on the vibe inside of this office. The wall on the right hand side had art littered across the walls, some she could tell was original work. There was a sideboard with a record player on it and what she’d imagine was an impressive record collection hidden behind its panels. There was a huge window on the lefthand side that had a nice view of a park across the road. Right beneath it was a large velvet couch, it was a beautiful jewel toned blue and had several mismatching pillows strewn across it. It looked cozy and inviting, more so because of the stack of books about tattoos set on the little coffee table before it. There was a little tea and coffee station on the side of the couch and about three shelves with an eclectic collection of mugs set on them. It smelled yummy and homey and Ray Charles was playing lowly in the room. The sound of a throat clearing pulled her from her thoughts and she looked forward quickly. And sitting on a mid-century modern style desk at the center of the large office was Harry Styles. The man she was after. He looked serious but not in a threatening way. His hair was a bit messy and he was wearing glasses over his eyes and was wearing a casual long sleeve shirt with some logo she didn’t recognize on it.

“Sorry, it’s just really cool in here.” She said softly, she felt caught off guard. Had his girlfriend decorated his office space?

“Yeah, it’s alright.” He said and smiled softly. She noticed that behind him there was a lot more art displayed on the wall and a large shelving unit with books, knick knacks, and tons of accolades. She also didn’t miss that amidst all the art hung a diploma with his name on it. He went to Columbia University? “So, you’re Y/N.” He said and she nodded as she looked into his eyes.

“Yeah, ummm and you’re Harry. I’m a big fan of your work.” She started off with a compliment right off the bat.

“Uh, thank you.” He said, sounding a bit timid and he glanced down at the desk before looking back to her, “So the consultation is for you to show me what you have in mind for the tattoo you want. We’ll determine whether I’m the artists for you or if maybe one of my other artists is better suited for what you want.” He said and she nodded, “You’ll also get an estimate for the work and we can discuss any customizations you want and all that good stuff.” He said.

“Sounds good.”

“Great. Do you have something to reference or do you want a custom piece?” He asked and she reached into her tote and pulled out a few pages and set them on the desk. He reached for them and looked over the photos printed on there. It was a tattoo of a bouquet of Magnolias.

“So I don’t want it to be a perfect copy of those, just something close to that style, like shift things if you want.” she said as he looked over the first page and nodded, “But I do want to add some little things in there, like hidden within the tattoo. I really like the style of that first picture though.” She explained and he nodded, “And then the second page,” she said and he flipped to it as she spoke, “It’s of peonies, but I just like the way the placement. Like the way that one curves on the thigh and the size. That’s what I would like for mine.”

“That’s really pretty. It’s really nice line work.” He said inspecting the photos, “Do you want color?”

“No, black and white.”

“Cool. What did you want to add?” He asked and glanced up to her.

“Well, I do like the greenery that’s there, but I want to hide a skeleton key, a perfume bottle, like those antique looking ones,” she said and he nodded, “a spider, a whisk and a crown.”

“Yeah, I could hide those in there.” He hummed and she smiled, did that mean he was going to do the tattoo on her?

“OK.” She smiled.

“Well, this is a pretty big piece.” He said and she nodded, “I would propose that we work on the large flowers first and get those done, shading and all if possible.” He said and she nodded, “Then we go in with the smaller ones, we can finish some shading and lay down the hidden elements you want, and then we finish with the leaves and other little intricacies of the piece.”

“So three sessions?” She asked and he nodded, “OK.”

“I can do it for $850 if you want to stick to this size.” He said as he looked over it once more.

“Yeah, that sounds pretty reasonable.” She said with a smile.

“Perfect.” He hummed, “We require a 25% deposit on large pieces like this, especially since we’ll be doing it in multiple sessions. This all goes towards the price of the tattoo of course.” He said glancing up to her and she nodded.

“Cool, ummm how long are the sessions?” She asked.

“I think each session will last about four hours give or take.” He said.

“Oh ok, not too bad.” She said and he chuckled a bit but she let it go.

“So before you go I would like to map out on your leg the size so that I can get to work on a stencil. The email you provided is your most used one, right?” She nodded, “Good. So once I finish it up I’ll send over a photo of it so you can see the design beforehand and if you like it we’ll get the stencil ready for your first session.” He said and she smiled.

“Great. I can’t wait.” She said genuinely excited and he chuckled.

“You’re not from here are you?” He asked and she furrowed her brows.

“What do you mean?”

“Your accent is a little funny.” He said and she giggled.

“Oh yeah, so I’m American, but I lived here for many years as a child and then moved to America for a bit, and now I’m back…” she fibbed, “So, it’s a little confused I think.” She elaborated and he hummed.

“Well anyway, lets ummm map these size out on you. I’ll step out and let you take off your pants.” He said , “I can bring Agnes in if you’re not comfortable.” He added in quickly and Y/N shook her head.

“Oh that’s OK, it’s cool.” She assured.

“Cool, I’ll ummm count to 100 slowly.” He said as he stood from his seat and she nodded and he walked out of the room and once she heard the door shut she exhaled and quickly glanced around trying to spot any hidden cameras, she was trained to find these things and found none. So she slipped out of her pants - luckily they were just athletic leggings and then she pressed her ear to the door. She could faintly hear Harry talking and so she hurried back around the desk and to his laptop, it looked used. It was a little scratched so she could assume it went places with him, she needed to get her hands on that laptop. She then reached for her tote and pulled out a little bug that she would plant. She needed it to be close but not in a place that he would find by mistake. As she glanced around the room her eyes landed on the book case in front of her. It was right behind the desk… that was a decent distance. She crouched down and stuck it to the underside of the third shelf, he’d never look down there.“Ready?” She heard his voice through the door and she jumped a bit and hurried back to her side of the desk.

“Yeah!” She called out and soon he was stepping back in. He took her in for just a sec before hurrying around the desk and pulling open a drawer. He brought out a marker and uncapped it as he walked back around to her. She was about to prop her leg up on the chair she was sitting in before but he just dropped down to a squat before she could do anything.

“May I?” He asked looking up into her eyes. God, had he always been this attractive? She just nodded almost stupidly as a response and when his eyes finally left hers she felt like she could breathe again. His hand was warm as it landed up by her hip, support his weight as he drew out rough shapes resembling those of the tattoo she wanted. It was nothing detailed, just a skeleton of it. She bit her lip as the felt tip glided across her skin consistently. She watched as he worked and his eyes shot up to hers when a giggle left her mouth as his fingers skimmed down the back of her thigh.

“Sorry, that tickled.” She said with a bashful smile and he just breathed out a little laugh before his eyes focused back on what he was doing and he mumbled a “sorry” out. After a couple minutes he was standing back up and inspecting the rough drawing for a second.

“Do you like those proportions? Mirror’s behind you.” He said and she walked over to the body length mirror that was behind the office door. She glanced at the rough designs and grinned.

“850 for this?” She joked and glanced at him through the mirror and he just smiled before shaking his head and she giggled before actually inspecting the size of it and trying to envision the actual thing on her skin. She looked over the curve of her hip and as she glanced at Harry’s reflection she saw as his eyes focused on her bum for a few seconds before they met hers again. He didn’t seem embarrassed by the fact that she caught him at all.

“Location and size look good?” He asked and she nodded, “Great. Let me just measure the length of it all.” He said as he pulled a tape measure from his pocket and she walked back to him and he squatted down once more before measuring the length and width of the outline on the side of her thigh. He stood and went back around to his side of the desk and signed into the laptop before he started typing away. Y/N got dressed and after a minute of silence he glanced up to her, “OK, I sent the details up front to Tom and he’ll charge your deposit and book your appointment. Keep an eye out for an email from the shop to look over the design, OK?”

“Sounds good, thank you Harry.” She said and he nodded.

“I’ll walk you out.” He said standing and they walked through the tattooing area and out the sliding doors and back up to the front desk, “She’s all good to go, Tommy.” Harry said and Tom nodded with a smile, “See you soon.” Harry said to Y/N and she nodded and turned back to Tom who started giving her date options. After she chose the closes date she headed back to the cafe and camped out there until the shop closed. She needed to get into that laptop.

*********

It was nearly 9 at night and she was still waiting for the tattoo shop to close. She had been listening in and literally nothing exciting had happened yet; she’d need to keep monitoring. She perked up from her spot at the window booth as soon as she saw the front door swing open and then Harry was walking out of the storefront. He looked tired as he headed to his car parked just a few feet away from the entrance and as soon as he took off she hurried out and onto her motorcycle. She switched it on and kept her eyes fixed on his taillights as she followed him at a distance until he was turning onto their street and he was pulling into his gated home and she waited, hiding behind a car until she watched it close. Y/N had purposely acquired an apartment just beside his place; well she technically had two, one for living and one for work stuff. From her living room window she could see over his gate, but what was more important was that she could see when he’d come and go, who was coming and going regularly, when his security rotated, it was perfect. Once she was able to get into her building she changed into something a bit more warm and comfy as she occasionally peaked out of her window to see his home. After about 30 minutes he was walking out of the gate and walking down the street.

“Shit, shit, shit!” She whispered as she searched around for her sneakers, she needed to see where he was headed. She slipped her headphones on and strapped her fanny pack on before rushing out of her door and down five flights of stairs until she was bursting out of her building just as he was making a right turn on the main road. She ran to catch up and waited a bit before following him from a safe distance. They made it into the more bustling area of their neighborhood. There were a handful of local pubs to choose from, about 3 chippys, and a killer kabab shop all within that strip of the main street of their neighborhood. She couldn’t help but smile as she saw him saunter into a chippy, more than pleased that of the other two there were in the vicinity, this was also her favorite one, even if it was the furthest one. She could make out several people inside and so she gave it a few minutes before she hurried down the street and took a deep breath before slipping inside, pulling off her headphones as she walked up to the counter.

*** Harry’s POV ***

“Evening, love. What do ya’fancy?” He heard Mary ask kindly and he glanced up from his phone screen and did a double take when he saw the girl from the shop today, Y/N.

“Hiya, Mary.” She sang sweetly, “just the usual.”

Usual? He thought to himself and just perked up as the interaction continued.

“Right, extra gravy.” The older woman smiled and he saw Y/N nod. She rang her up and let her know it’d be just a couple minutes and Y/N smiled and stepped back a bit. She hadn’t looked over to the corner he was at. She was minding her business on her phone and he had no idea why, but he cleared his throat before making his way over to her.

“Hey, Y/N?” He spoke up and she glanced up at him. When their eyes met a look of surprise came over her features before she smiled.

“Harry Styles.” She responded just saying his name and he chuckled.

“Yeah. Ummm, what’re you doing here?” He asked and she shrugged.

“Umm, well s’kinda my local chippy.” She informed and his expression morphed into one of confusion.

“Really?”

“Yeah. What are you doing here?” She then questioned him, “Aren’t the most posh neighborhoods a bit further out?” She asked.

“Well, this is also my local. M’not that posh.” He informed her with a timid smile and she grinned.

“Oh OK.” She hummed with a sarcastic note to her tone and he sniggered.

“So you live here?”

“Yeah, just down the street. S’close I walked.” She said, cocking her head out towards the general direction of her apartment.

“That’s kind of insane, I do too. When did you move here?”

“I just moved here from the US a month ago.” She said and he nodded.

“Harry, dear it’s ready!” Mary called out to him over the chatter of the couple people that had trickled into the shop since Y/N’s arrival.

“Well, it was nice chatting and well running into you-” Y/N started and he interrupted her.

“Did you say you walked here?” He questioned.

“Yeah, s’not even half a mile’s walk.” She reasoned.

“But like, there are bad people out there. You could get hurt, there’s been a few muggings close by and how are you to be aware of your surrounding with those monstrosities for headphones? You couldn’t hear a comet crashing into the earth.” He said with a chuckle and she laughed loudly. He thought it was such a pretty sound.

“Well bad things could happen to anyone.” She said as her laughter died down, “Besides, I know how to defend myself at close range.” She said and he chuckled and shook his head.

“True, and I’m sure you do,” he said and not sarcastically either, “but if it’s alright with you, it would make me feel better if we walked back together.” He said and she smiled and shrugged.

“Yeah, some company would be nice.” She agreed.

“Good. Also, you’re the only tattoo I’m doing this month so if you die I have no income.” He threw in before he walked off and towards the counter to grab his food. Y/N just sniggered at his reasoning for why he wanted to walk back with her.

“Y/N!” She heard Mary call out and Harry just turned around and grabbed her little takeaway box too since he was just a few steps away.

“Bye, Mary!”, “Thanks!” Harry and Y/N said aloud as they walked out of the shop.

“See ya’ next time!” They heard and she turned back and waved before Harry handed her, her box.

“So what’d you get?” He asked and she just flipped it open.

“Just gravy.” She said as she picked up a less soggy fry and popped it into her mouth as they started walking.

“No peas?” He asked and she shook her head with a scowl on her face and he chuckled, “Have you even tried it?” He asked, glancing at her.

“No and I’ve never considered it. Ever. Peas are not good.”

“You just haven’t had them in a way you like them. I felt that way about Brussel sprouts and then I grew up.” He teased her and she laughed again, making him laugh along as well.

“Here, give it a try.” He said opening up his own takeaway container and she scrunched up her nose and shook her head, green and brown don’t mix well in a dish, “Don’t be a baby, Y/N. I will knock off $50 from the price of your tattoo!” He announced and she laughed.

“That’s not a good motivator after you just told me that I’m your only income for the month.” She said and he chuckled again.

“OK then…you’re gonna be trusting me to hold a thousand needle gun to your skin and ink into it - pretty permanently I might add - a picture that you’re trusting me to draw on your skin!” He mentioned again and she giggled, “But you will not trust me to eat a chip with gravy and mushy peas?” He said and she rolled her eyes.

“You’ve got quite the dramatic flare.” She said and he shrugged with a grin, “Ugh, fine. But if I don’t like it I’ll spit it out.” She said and he chuckled.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” He agreed and she sighed as he extended his chips over to her as they walked slowly, “It has to have healthy amount of peas on it.” He mumbled as she went for one with not that many peas on top. She rolled her eyes and reached for one that as he said, had a healthy amount of peas on it and she glanced at him briefly before just tossing it into her mouth and she bit into it and well, it really wasn’t that bad. It was actually OK and it would certainly take a few more tries for her to decided whether she was a fan or not, “Well you didn’t spit it out so I’ll take that as a good sign.” He speculated.

“It wasn’t what I thought it would be.” She said, “And I can’t say I’m a fan yet, I’d have to try a few more times,” she said glancing over to him, “but it was alright.” She assured and he smiled.

“I will take that as a win.” He hummed and she chuckled. They continued walking in silence, the pace was quite slow as they ate, “So what brought you back here?” He asked.

“Work. I’m not really sure how long I’m gonna be out here, just depends on whether or not I meet the objectives given to me from by bosses.” She said and he nodded.

“Well, you’ve been here a month. Do you feel like you’re making good progress or I don’t know…like you’re gonna meet the objective?” He asked and she glanced to him, their eyes meeting for a quick second before she glanced back down to her chips and gravy and smiled.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Does that mean you get to go back sooner or stay longer?” He asked. He wasn’t even sure why he asked that. Why should he care of she’s here long term or not?

“In the short term it means I stay here longer. But in the big picture of things I get to be back home sooner rather than later. Does that make sense?” She asked through a giggle and he nodded.

“Yeah actually. Or at least it does to me.” He said and she smiled.

“Well what about you? How long have you been tattooing?” She was asking questions that she kind of knew the answers to already, she had studied his life for months before relocating.

“Since I was 15.” He said proudly and her eyes widened to feign shock, “I always thought it was cool and ummm, I had snuck out of the house one summer with a few friends to go to this party at some older kids house party, I was 14 at the time.” He said, glancing over to her to make sure she was paying attention, “And ummm, someone lost a bet and I had to freehand a picture of their choosing. They chose me because they knew I liked to draw.”

“Oh shit!” She laughed, she didn’t know the why of how he ended up where he was and she was amused.

“It didn’t come out too bad, luckily for the guy.” He said and she smiled, “But ummm, I just liked it and I liked that he wasn’t as horrified as he thought he’d be and ummm, I saved up and bought a gun of my own and started practicing on fruits and friends and myself and by the time I was 15 I was pretty fucking good and I had a little setup in the garage of my mum’s house. The idea initially was to just help her out as much as I could, she worked a lot and honestly, she was really proud of me.” He said with a satisfied smile, like those were very fond memories for him to recall, “I’d get people to come and I would obviously do things a little cheaper than established shops and I was enjoying it and maybe I bit off more than I could chew. One day I got a visit from one of the local shop owners, I guess I was putting a dent in their customer base and she didn’t like that.” He said and she nodded along, he was leaving out the part about him also selling drugs on the side of tattooing, that’s why he got into trouble and that’s why he’s in the shit he’s in now. She was involved in the B.F. clan and now he was too.

“Oh shit, did she like call the police on you or report you?” She asked, trying to sound as naive as possible.

“No, actually. When she saw that I was just a 15 year old kid and saw what I had organized and achieved on my own she… was impressed. She saw potential in me and ummm asked me to be their apprentice and that’s why I am where I am now.” He shrugged before he started eating and she nodded.

“Well, that was nice of her.” Y/N said.

“Yeah, real nice.” He mumbled. Was he just in this because of that? He was just really good at his job and kept moving up and up and now he was just stuck in these ranks. He seemed a bit hopeless now and a lot of his trips made sense to her now; why he would mainly focus on tattooing. She wanted to end this on a high note because they were getting close to their street.

“Well, let me tell you that you’re in the right place, Harry. I first saw you at this expo in LA, maybe like… a year or two ago?” She said and now he glanced over to her with surprise on his face, “You’re a hard man to make an appointment with.” She said and he chuckled, “And I had made a few trips to London in the last two years, some for fun and some for work and you were never around,” she said and he shrugged, “And then I was told I was going to be moved out here and I called three months ago and just secured an appointment with you for today.” She said and he chuckled, “You’re not high in demand because you’re decent at tattooing. You’re really good at it, you’re top in the field and ummm, yeah after that first time I saw you tattooing at that expo I just knew that you had to do my first tattoo.” She shrugged.

“Wait.” He said and she glanced to him, “That big ass piece is going to be your first tattoo?” He asked and she nodded, “You think you can do three, four hour sessions?” He asked and she scoffed.

“First off, I’m a woman and I can handle pain better than half the population on this planet. Second, if I can’t I’ll tell you.” She assured and he shook his head.

“You fucking better.” He warned before stuffing more of his chips into his own mouth. They walked a bit further in silence, “Which street are you on?” He asked.

“This first one here, to the left.” She hummed and he stopped in his tracks, “What?” She giggled and turned back to where he was stopped on the sidewalk.

“Nothing, I just live down that way too.” He said and her eyes widened, again feigning shock and then her face morphed into one of concern, “What is it?” He questioned.

“Nothing really. I mean, I just told you that I’ve been trying to get a tattoo appointment with you for like the last two years and turns out we’re practically neighbors and now I feel like I’m looking like a stalker and-” she rambled and he walked up to her and shook his head.

“Hey, hey, I never said that. I hadn’t even thought that, you’re good. I was just shocked because it was a few coincidences today. I mean, I’m a very stick-to-your-routine kind of guy. I don’t really give anything a chance to catch me off guard or to surprise me and you have today, twice, and it’s just weird for me to feel like that.” He explained. And once again, why was he sharing these things with her, he hardly even knew her.

“Oh, well I’m sorry for throwing off your vibe.” She said and he shook his head.

“S’alright. S’not your fault.” He said and she smiled, “Let’s keep going it’s getting colder.” He suggested and she nodded. They crossed the street in silence and as they came up on the end of the culdesac she spoke up again.

“This here is me.” She said glancing up to her building.

“So we kind of are neighbors because that right there is my house.” He said pointing to the house just a few hundred feet away. The only building between them was the complex’s parking structure.

“Oh!” Her eyes widened, “Wait, I moved in a month ago. How did you not notice moving vans and shit?”

“I was actually out of the country a month ago.” He thought aloud and she nodded.

“Well, hello neighbor. I’m Y/N. I’m on the fifth floor if you need sugar, or eggs, or flour at any point.” She said and he smiled.

“Well thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Also, I drive a motorcycle so if I take off early or something I apologize in advance for disturbing you.” She said and he chuckled.

“That’s pretty sick actually, I ride too.” He said and she smiled.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Not so much anymore actually, but I used to a lot more when I was younger.” He said and she smiled.

“Maybe we can go for a ride one day.” She said and he nodded, “Well thank you for walking with me, I appreciate it.”

“It wasn’t any trouble. It kinda helps that we’re just a few feet away from each other.” He said and she smiled again, “Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you around then.” He hummed.

“Yeah, I’ll see you around. Good night.” She smiled as she walked backwards until she reached the first steps of her building, then she turned around to let herself in.

Harry waited until the front door shut securely behind her and then he walked the few hundred feet to his home. Harry typed in the code at the gate around his house and as soon as the door unlocked he stepped inside and was greeted by his head of security, Axel, who looked irritated and concerned.

“We’ve got a problem.”

Part 2

#writing #harry styles fan fic #harry styles #slow burn #mini series #compromised mini series

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paperbodiesamongthestars · 3 years

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The Plan

I am late to the party for the Harringrove April Challenge, so I combined the prompts for days 1-4 (first kiss, April showers, spring break, and roller skates) and got this bad boy. Plz enjoy.

Read it on AO3 here!

Steve leaned on the kitchen table, chin on his folded arms, and watched the raindrops sliding down the outside of the apartment window. The fact that it was raining, on today of all days, felt deeply unfair. Wasn’t the whole point of California that it never rained here? All Steve had wanted was to do something nice for Billy, something to make up for…well. In all honesty, he wasn’t entirely sure what he was making up for, but he vividly recalled the expression on Billy’s face during the argument, and he was smart enough to know he had caused it somehow. So he had made a plan. A plan to ensure that spring break started out as successfully as possible, in the hopes that it would continue successfully from there. And now it was raining. Sometimes Steve wondered if the universe just genuinely enjoyed fucking with him.

He heard the door to Billy’s room open behind him and tried to school his expression into something more neutral than bitter disappointment. He and Billy had been at least sort of friends for a while now, and had been living together since they moved out here last summer. It was more than enough time for Billy to be able to read Steve like a book, and the last thing Steve needed was to have to explain his disappointment about the plan. He wasn’t entirely sure he could explain the reasoning behind the plan to himself, so he really didn’t want to have to try to explain it to Billy. He wasn’t sure he could take the mockery that would almost certainly ensue. Billy was different in a lot of ways, after everything, but he was still kind of a dick. Steve was pretty sure that was at least partly baked into Billy’s DNA.

It had been a little surprising to everyone when Steve had announced he was moving to California with Billy Hargrove to attend community college. Steve had even surprised himself a little bit with that decision, honestly. Robin had left for college in New York a few weeks prior and had invited Steve to come with her, but she had always been a very perceptive friend with an inconvenient habit of noticing when Steve was drowning. She had done a lot for him over the year after Starcourt, and he had wanted to give her a fresh start in New York without a roommate she had to worry about all the time. Billy, on the other hand, had offered up his passenger seat and would be the kind of roommate, Steve had assumed, who would ask precisely zero questions when Steve sometimes wanted to stay in his bedroom with the lights off for days at a time. So he had accepted the offer of the passenger seat, and he and Billy Hargrove had picked out an apartment.

As it turned out, though, Steve had assumed incorrectly. Billy might not have an actual reason to give a fuck about Steve Harrington, but he was somehow even more persistent than Robin had been when it came to things like making Steve get out of bed and shower regularly, or asking if Steve had eaten anything recently, or even occasionally sitting down and talking Steve through the extremely basic process of breathing. It was super fucking annoying, and it made Steve feel more cared for than he maybe ever had, and he tried not to think about that too much because it wasn’t Billy’s fault that Steve responded to a basic amount of care by developing a massive crush, and actually none of that was the point right now. Right now, he had to fix his face before Billy saw it, or he was going to have to explain why he was upset, and that meant talking about the plan. Steve took a breath and tried to look fine.

Billy sat down at the table and looked at Steve, who was still staring out the window.

“What’s got you all mopey?” Billy asked, so Steve had definitely nailed the whole expression thing.

“I’m fine,” Steve said, and it was a lot less convincing than he had been hoping for. Billy just stared at him, and Steve kept his eyes on the rain. It was coming down harder now, as if the universe was really trying to drive home how stupid the plan had been in the first place. Steve felt Billy’s eyes on him for a moment longer, and then Billy stood up. Steve heard the sounds of him making a smoothie and poked listlessly at the soggy remains of his cereal. He tried not to think about how today was supposed to be perfect, and now it wasn’t.

Billy was back just a few moments later, a dark purple smoothie in hand. He handed Steve a smaller cup with the extra in it, like he always did. Billy made the best smoothies.

“So,” he said as he slid back into his chair across the table from Steve, “what are you so upset about? We’re staring down two weeks of no classes, you passed all your midterms, and the nerds and Robin are all coming out to visit for summer in, like, two months.” Billy narrowed his eyes. “Are you upset that you’re not going back to Hawkins for break?” The question was a little cautious, and Steve shook his head immediately. He had no desire to restart the argument, and he wasn’t actually upset about not going back ho—back to Hawkins.

He thought briefly about just…confessing. Admitting that he cared, probably a little too much, about making Billy happy, and then probably finding out once and for all that this thing was entirely one-sided. But then he was probably going to have to move, and he really didn’t want to do that. So he didn’t say it.

“I made plans for today,” he admitted instead. Billy’s eyebrows went up.

“Plans aside from hanging out on the couch, watching movies, and smoking these?” Billy placed a baggie of perfectly rolled joints on the table.

“Yes,” Steve said, although that sounded like a pretty great rainy day.

“Ambitious,” Billy said drily, and Steve huffed. He was pretty sure this was just the tip of the mockery iceberg, but still.

“So what were you going to do?” Billy asked after a silence. Steve wrestled with it for a moment, and then rolled his eyes. Billy wasn’t going to stop until he pried at least some answers out of Steve, so he might as well confess to this much. He unlocked his phone and pulled up the confirmation email. He slid it across the table toward Billy.

“We,” Steve said, “were going to go roller skating along the marina.” Billy’s eyes widened. He looked at the phone and back at Steve.

“Roller skating,” he said, and Steve couldn’t get a handle on his tone. Steve smiled despite himself, though, because he was confident about this part of the plan. He had thought about it a lot.

“Oh come on,” he said with a little smile, “like you wouldn’t Instagram the shit out of roller skating at the waterfront.” Billy looked at him, and Steve continued, “It’s retro enough to fit your whole throwback aesthetic, and you can take enough pictures of boats and the water to really rub it in that you live on the ‘best coast.’” He did finger quotes on ‘best coast’ because he was absolutely quoting Billy. Billy opened his mouth to say something—probably a joke about how he didn’t know that Steve even knew the word aesthetic—but he took a closer look at Steve’s face and evidently thought better of it. Instead, he looked at the fat raindrops splattering the windowpane, and then back at Steve. A slow smile spread across his face.

“Well then what are we waiting for?” Billy asked with a grin. Steve looked from him to the window and back.

“It’s raining,” he said flatly. Billy’s smile went wider.

“So you’re telling me that you made this reservation—“ he glanced back down at Steve’s phone—“three weeks ago, and you’re going to let a few April showers stand in the way of a great plan?” Steve flushed bright red. The date on that reservation was something he hadn’t actually intended to share. He hoped Billy wouldn’t ask about it. It took a minute for Billy calling it a great plan to land, but when it did, Steve smiled.

“I knew you’d love it,” he said a little smugly.

“No you didn’t, or you wouldn’t be so happy that I just called it a great plan,” Billy shot back, and Steve wasn’t sure why Billy had to be so mean, and also so right all the time. It was deeply unfair. He tried to come up with a snarky response, but Billy was already standing up from the table.

“Get your raincoat,” Billy said as he put his smoothie glass in the sink and walked off toward his room. “I’m getting dressed and then we’re going roller skating.”

The rental shop was open, though the guy behind the counter was clearly not expecting anyone to actually show up. He kept shooting worried glances out the door, to where the pavement was wet and covered in puddles. He asked them repeatedly, as they signed the paperwork, if they understood that the company renting them the skates was not responsible for any injury they might sustain. While being idiots in the rain went unspoken, but was clearly implied.

Once they had their skates on, it went better than Steve had anticipated. The rain, after the first half hour, was barely even noticeable, since they were both basically soaked through. Steve hadn’t roller skated in years, but he was steadier on his feet than he had any right to be. Billy spent the first ten minutes filming Steve, no doubt in the hopes of catching him eating it on the sidewalk. Steve had several wobbly moments where he was sure he looked ridiculous, but he took pride in the fact that he managed not to fall. Eventually Billy put away his phone and started actually trying to skate himself. He was shakier than Steve had been to start, but he adapted quickly, as usual. Soon they were gliding along the concrete path pretty successfully, stopping often to look at the rain coming down over the marina and the bay. Billy skated straight into every puddle he could find, and was happiest when he could manage to splash Steve.

They made their way out to the end of the waterfront and sat down to rest on a rocky jetty. Steve raised his face to the sky. The rain had slackened a bit, but was still falling steadily. He closed his eyes and let it cool his flushed face. He felt Billy’s shoulder warm against his own, even through his raincoat. Billy hadn’t bothered with a jacket.

“So why roller skating?” Billy asked. He sounded curious rather than mocking, which was promising. Steve kept his eyes closed and shrugged.

“Like I said before, I thought you’d like it,” he said, hoping Billy would leave it alone and knowing he wouldn’t.

“Okay,” Billy said slowly. “But why make the plan at all?” Steve tried one more time to avoid this conversation.

“We’re always either working or doing school stuff. I thought we could use the break.” Billy just sighed.

“You made the reservation the same day we had that argument,” Billy said quietly, and it was Steve’s turn to sigh. He didn’t want to talk about this, and now he was going to have to. He tilted his head further back, but didn’t open his eyes. He focused on the sensation of raindrops on his face for a long moment before he spoke. He kept his voice quiet even though they were alone on the jetty, and he chose his words carefully.

“A few days before the argument, you asked me if I was going home for spring break. I said that I hadn’t decided, and then I asked you the same question. You eventually just said no, but I could tell that something about it bothered you. So I started thinking about it, and you almost never use that word. I’m pretty sure I’ve only heard you say it one time, and it was when you were being an absolute dick about carpooling to that stupid festival. You asked me how I was planning to get home, and I said I could find another ride back to the apartment, and you were mad at me for a week. At the time, I didn’t understand why it pissed you off so much. I probably still don’t fully get it, but I think I’m starting to understand a little better.” Steve paused, thinking about empty houses and unsafe houses and how he wanted to say the rest of it.

“And?” Billy eventually prompted when Steve didn’t continue fast enough.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve muttered under his breath. “Give me a second. Or, you know, you could try just…letting something go for once.”

“Doesn’t sound like me,” Billy murmured, but he bumped Steve’s shoulder with his own encouragingly. Steve finally opened his eyes and looked over. Billy’s eyes were wide and blue and had some emotion Steve couldn’t identify in them. Steve tried not to think about what it could be. He looked back out at the water in front of him.

“And then we had that stupid argument, and I said a lot of shit I didn’t feel good about and didn’t mean about you and Hawkins and your terrible mood, but for some reason it was worse than usual. You never want to go back, and I totally get it, and I’m sorry I kept asking about it, but something I said or did this time made it way worse.” Steve paused again, not sure where to go from here.

“That’s why you decided not to go back to Hawkins,” Billy said eventually. “Because of that fight.”

“I mean, I mostly decided not to go back because I kind of hate it there sometimes, and they’re all coming here in a couple of months anyway,” Steve said, “but that was also part of it, yeah.” He shot Billy a small smile, but Billy was staring straight ahead. “I knew if I left you here by yourself, it would probably be bad. It took long enough to pull you out of it after Christmas. I couldn’t ask you to come with me, so I just decided to stay.” Steve tried to keep his voice light, but it still felt like admitting a lot. Just how closely he paid attention to Billy and his moods was a thing he would rather have kept to himself. But it was out there now, and there was nothing to do but wait and see how Billy was going to react. Steve shot him a sidelong glance to see if it seemed like he was angry, but he was still staring out at the water, expression unreadable.

“So I was a total dick to you, and your response was to make plans to go roller skating because you thought I would like it,” Billy said flatly.

“No?” Steve said because that’s not what happened. “I planned roller skating because something about spring break has had you in a shitty mood for a while now, and I thought maybe if we did something fun on the first day, it would, you know, get things off on the right foot. I also planned it because I said or did something during that argument that actually really upset you, and I still don’t know what it was, but I feel like a dick about it anyway.”

“Steve,” Billy said, and it sounded a little like he was pleading. “It isn’t…it wasn’t…” He took a deep breath and paused for a long moment. “I really fucking hate this time of year,” he finally said slowly. “My parents sent me to a week of camp over spring break one year when I was about twelve.” His voice had taken on that flat, toneless quality that it often got whenever Billy got anywhere close to the topic of his mom. Steve pressed his shoulder a little harder into Billy’s, and felt relieved when Billy didn’t pull away. “It was some sports camp, I think. I don’t really remember much about it. When I got home on Friday afternoon, my mom was gone.” Steve’s head snapped up so he could look at Billy’s face, but he was still staring resolutely out at the water. His shoulders were tight and his jaw was set. “Most of her stuff was gone and my dad wouldn’t tell me where she was. The only thing he ever told me about it was that she was gone now, and we were just going to have to ‘soldier through.’ I found out later that he had her involuntarily committed. She had been struggling for a while, but he never wanted her to actually talk to someone about it. He just waited until I left and then dumped her in some facility. She spent the next few years in and out of mental hospitals, and then the years after that going in and out of rehab. I didn’t see her again before she died. I found her sister right before we moved to Hawkins, and she told me about it.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Billy,” Steve whispered, slowly reaching out to lay his hand over Billy’s. Billy didn’t pull away, so Steve left his hand there.

“No one’s ever asked before,” Billy said slowly. “About spring. I’ve hated the entire concept of spring break since I was twelve, and no one’s ever said anything about it before.”

“I’m so sorry,” Steve said, feeling even worse than before. “Oh my God, during that fight I said that you had two weeks of vacation coming up and you were acting like somebody died.” Steve put his hands over his face. “I’m such a fucking asshole.” He dropped his hands and looked over at Billy, hoping he could find some way to say it so that Billy would understand—

—but then Billy was leaning toward him, and then Billy’s lips were on his and all of Steve’s thoughts left his head at the same time. Kissing, though. Kissing he was good at. It took him just a moment to get his bearings, and then Steve was turning his head to get a better angle and deepen the kiss. He had wanted to do this for a long time, so he wasn’t about to waste the opportunity. When they finally pulled apart to breathe, Billy spoke before Steve could.

“What I was trying to say,” he said seriously, “is that no one has ever asked me why I’m upset, much less gone out of their way to plan an activity to make me feel better.” He looked up at the rain for a long moment and took a breath. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he admitted, “and I only waited because I thought you’d get over it eventually.” He glanced at Steve and then looked away. “We don’t have the best history, and I figured you’d start attending classes and meeting people, and you’d realize that there are a lot of people out there who have a lot less baggage than I do, and you’d eventually stop looking at me like that—” Billy ran a thumb over Steve’s cheekbone and Steve couldn’t help himself from leaning into the contact a little bit— “and that would probably be better for you in the long run. But you didn’t stop. And you just keep doing shit like this,” Billy said.

“Making overly-complicated plans so I never actually have to have a conversation to resolve an argument?” Steve asked with a rueful smile.

“Caring about how I feel, dumbass,” Billy replied with a shove to Steve’s shoulder. “Continuing to do thoughtful shit for me even though I sometimes actively make it difficult for you to be nice to me,” Billy said.

“Hey,” Steve said softly, with a shrug that did nothing to conceal how emotional he was, “it’s not like I’m baggage-free. I’m pretty sure you could find someone to be nice to you who doesn’t just…entirely forget how to breathe sometimes.” Billy looked at him for a long moment and then smiled.

“Nah,” he said. Then he narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “You said ‘overly-complicated plans.’” Steve closed his eyes and winced. “You had more stuff planned for today,” Billy said. It wasn’t a question.

“Nothing major,” Steve said. “After we were done skating, I thought we could go to that taco place you like down by the water. And then I may have signed us up for—“ Billy cut him off with another kiss. Then he pulled back to get to his feet and held a hand out to help Steve up.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” he said. “We’re going to go pick up tacos because I fucking love those tacos, and then we’re going to take them back to the apartment—“ Steve was already shaking his head. “What?” Billy demanded.

“I think what you meant to say,” Steve said, pulling Billy toward him on his skates, “was that we’re going to take them home, and—“

Once again, Billy cut him off before he could finish his sentence.

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #my writing #mostly fluff #a soupçon of angst #for flavor

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 4 years

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S.T. REWRITE - S2:E8; Chapter Eight, The Mind Flayer - [Pt. 6 - FINAL PART]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

An unlikely hero steps forward when a deadly development puts the Hawkins Lab on lockdown, trapping Will and several others inside.

A/n: we're so close to season 3 you have no idea how excited I am 😭 will and you are ADORABLE in s3. Enjoy a sprinkle of Byler in this ch. for now, sorry it couldn't be more 😂

Oo also, the pov flashbacks are kinda terrible but its kind of on purpose depending how old they're supposed to be. The younger they're supposed to be the more straightforward if that makes sense

Warnings: so much angst ahead, oof, my goodness. Buckle up kids :> this is a quite ambitious chapter but hopefully I handled it okay. Possibly the longest chapter in Cosmic history?? I think??

||Will's POV||

The vulgar smell of chemicals lingers in my nose and sticks to the back of my throat as my eyes adjust to the blinding light.

Immediately I feel his icy presence, and felt myself losing control and all sense of self in a matter of seconds.

But I was still moving, squirming, but I'm not the one commanding my body.

Shit, not again!

This has been happening on and off since he got me, he goes silent until he needs me. But lately, it's all the time. Usually I stand a fighging chance to break free but this time he's in full control. I want to scream and cry, tell my mom I'm here, I'm here! But he won't let me. I'm still trapped in this small corner of my mind, and the longer he stays the smaller the prison gets.

There are four(?) figures looking at me, but it's hard to make out their faces at first. Mom! Mom is here, she'll help me, I know it. And... Jonathan!

Help me! I'm so sorry! I couldn't control it, he made me! He made me!

They don't hear me, everytime I try to speak, yell, cry or do anything, he won't let me. It's been like that since I was admitted. Since the fire in the tunnels.

Just thinking about the pain makes him angry, I can sense it.

I recognize another face, the man they asked me to identify but couldn't. I know I know him. I know I can trust him. But the fog... Ever since the monster got me, a fog has been spreading in my brain, making me forget things. People.

The man, Hopper, I think his name is, steps towards me with a look of concern. He's cautious of me, I can tell. Not that I blame him, but again it makes me want to cry, even though I'm not in control. But I still feel the pain, like the sting in my wrists and ankles as he fights against the restraints.

It's then I fully process I'm actually tied up. I don't have time to react before I hear my own voice speaking without my permission.

"What? What?" I watch as passenger in my own body as he makes me look around the room and down at the restraints. "What is this?"

Nobody answers, and I'm beginning to grow fearful myself. I know they wouldn't hurt me, but they might have to. In order to get him out. And I'm worried about how they plan on doing that.

"What? What is this?" He repeats.

Again, nobody answers, and he fights harder against the restraints hurting me more.

"Why am I tied up?"

Mom steps out from the shadows and I calm a bit, the real me, anyway. She kneels down in front of me, looking up at me seriously.

"Will, we just want to talk to you." She says.

I'm here! I want to talk too, Mom, please hear me.

"We're not gonna hurt you." She says gently.

I know Mom, please just tell me what's going on!

My head rips up, making me look at everyone in the room frantically. There's still one figure I can't quite make out, but he doesn't seem to care about them.

"Where am I?" He demands.

The man kneels down next to me, and I can feel the monster's anger and agitation. He's threatened.

The man holds up a piece of paper, a drawing. I recognize at once that this is something else the fog has touched. I know it, and it must be something I made. Fear takes over me; my own, real fear of the monster that was now apart of me, but I also feel his fear. All I know is the drawing upsets him, and he knows something I don't.

"Recognize this?" Hopper asks, and the shadow monster shakes my head. "Do you recognize this?"

My head shakes again, and I barely hear a soft 'no' come from my lips.

I'm now looking at Mom again, she's staring deep into my eyes. My body isn't mine anymore, but I swear when she looks at me, she's looking at me. Like she knows not only that I'm trapped and that this is not me talking, moving, answering, but she knows exactly where I am. She's looking at my real self that's trapped in this small corner in the back of my mind and I'm certain I'd be crying if I could.

"We wanna help you," She says to me. "But to do that, we have to understand how to kill it."

Oh no.

His anger explodes in an instant, so bright and so intense that even I find myself feeling annoyed. But I remind myself that it's not my anger. I want to help. I want to tell them, but I still can't. Instead, my voice comes out in a hostile shout that makes my mom jump.

"Why am I tied up?" They both try to calm me, calm him. But it doesn't work. "Why am I tied up? Why am I tied up?"

Mom shakes her head, and it's clear to see how uncomfortable she is growing. I just wish she knew for sure this isn't me yelling at her.

He continues shouting the same thing, and I can feel my throat start to sting and ache from screaming.

"Why am I tied up?! Why am I tied up?!" Hopper pushes me back, and my wrists and ankles and even chest begin to sting as he fights against the wires again. "WHY AM I TIED UP?! WHY AM I TIED UP?!"

The lights begin to flicker and my body continues to kick and scream but not the words I wanted to scream. It's just the same question, and he won't stop growing louder. I see the figures, Jonathan and Mike...! But they're scared of me. They're backing away, and Mike briefly looks down at his hand and behind the post. The figure had grabbed his hand, but I still can't quite make them out.

I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!

"WHY AM I TIED UP?!" He screams, now fighting hard against Hopper's hands which are now trying to pin me back. And the more he screams, the deeper my voice goes and I swear it sounds less and less like my own voice. "LET ME GO! LET ME GO! LET ME GO! LET ME GO!"

Please... Please, somebody help me.

"LET ME GO! LET ME GO! LET ME GO!"

Hopper now has his arms wrapped around me, and I know it's out of restraint but it's also gentle and sympathetic like a hug. He knows I wouldn't do this, I can tell because he holds me tight and I even hear him mumble encouraging things trying to calm me.

My mom does the same, but I can feel the furious look welded to my face as he screams at her, and yet she still tries to comfort me.

"-sweetie,"

"LET ME GO! LET ME GO! LET ME GO!"

"-honey, it's okay."

"LET ME GO! LET ME GO! LET ME GO!"

Let me go! Leave me and family alone! Go away!

I know it must hear me, but since I am no longer in control all I can do is try to fight it. It's hard, but I don't give up.

Stop it! Just stop it!

I focus as much as I can, as much as I can muster. All I can focus on is the hurt and fear in everyone's eyes. Mike's, Jonathan's, and my moms. Hers hurts the most.

Suddenly I feel my body start to weaken, and my voice starts to lower in volume. But I still feel helpless no matter how hard I fight.

He's angry with me now.

"Let me go! Let me go!"

The shift in Mom's eyes keeps me going. She can tell I'm fighting, but I don't think she knows I can't hold out much longer.

Mom, please...

"Let me go! Let me go! Let me go! Let me go..."

My breath is harder and harder to find, and my shoulders heave as my lungs fight for breath. But I can feel it; I slowed him down.

"Go..." he mumbles weakly.

The lights stop flickering and Hopper lets me go. Mom stands briefly to sit across from me on the chair. She watches me carefully, and I can feel the tiniest bit of relent from him.

"Do you know what March 22nd is?" She asks calmly.

He's trying to figure out what to do, he's calculating. And he must be pushing back because I realize that that day sounds familiar. But the way she talks it seems like I should know.

"It's your birthday,"

The fog is coming for me. I can't remember my own birthday, and I've already forgotten other things about myself. Maybe if I keep talking to him?

Please, just let me go!

He wants me gone completely, and already I feel myself slipping back out of whatever control I had. He's winning.

Go away! Please, just go away. Go away... Go away... Go away.

But that's when she sees me again, she looks directly at the real me thats trapped and fighting for my life.

"Your birthday."

All I can do is listen to her, cling to her voice as the fog closes in on me. But I feel it start to slow when she continues, her voice as soft as ever.

"When you turned eight, I gave you that huge box of crayons. Do you remember that?"

Mom smiles a bit as she thinks about it, and I feel a single grain of strength returns to me. I can almost picture the lost memory, it comes back in small details, like a blurred home video with lots of static.

"It was 120 colors," she says, and I can see tears building up in her eyes. "And all your friends, they got you Star Wars toys, but all you wanted to do was draw with all your new colors."

Her smile grew a bit, not once looking away from me and I noticed an overwhelming gleam of pride. But still, I listen completely hooked on her every word. And I don't know if it is because of me, or what, but it almost feels like he's stopped too.

"And you drew this big spaceship, but it wasn't from a movie." She shook her head, gleaming at me still even if her voice began to break. "I-I-It was your spaceship."

Rainbow ship...!

"A rainbow ship is what you called it," her bottom lip began to shake before she smiled brightly once more as she spoke. "A-and you must have used every color in the box. I took that with me to Melvald's and I put it up and I told everyone who came in, 'My son drew this,'"

'Mom! Come on, it's not funny! Just take it down!'

'Honey, how are people supposed to know how great this is if I don't show them?' She asks.

'Mo~m!'

"And you were so embarrassed," she chuckles.

I'm remembering... Mom, I remember! I'm remembering!

But she still can't hear me, I'm still not in control. But he's listening. He's quiet.

"But I was so proud," Mom leans forward looking deep into my eyes. "I was so, so proud."

Mom...

She's fighting back tears now and I hate now more than ever I can't speak my own thoughts.

Mom, please! Keep talking, it's working. Just please keep talking...

Another voice speaks instead.

"Do you remember the day Dad left?"

My head whips up to see Jonathan, and for a moment I don't even know who was in control. I can feel it working, clinging to the stories they are telling me. They feel like home even if I don't remember.

It hurts to see his eyes are watering, and he looks just as worried and sad as Mom.

Like the crayon story I try and search for the memory. I feel as if I'm reaching around in the darkness, trying to find any kind of detail that might help me remember. And he doesn't get mad at me when I don't respond.

He walked towards me instead, and kneels down beside me.

"We stayed up all night building Castle Byers..."

I can feel that my face has softened over time, but still all I can do is listen. He's watching Jonathan, and I can feel his silence. Not his absence, he's still there inside me but it's like he's trying to make sense of what these moments are and why they're affecting me. Regardless, moments of that night came flooding back to me.

'I'm trying, Jonathan!' I whine, stopping to hit the ground with the hammer out of frustration before dropping it all together. "It's this stupid thing, it's balance must be off or something.

'Don't blame the hammer, Will,' Jonathan jokes dryly, not even looking at me.

I drop the hammer in frustration, I practically threw it and I begin to sniffle.

'Well, I do! This stupid hammer isn't doing the one thing it's suppose to do. How are we supposed to make Castle Byers if he's not helping?'

I go quiet, realizing what I had just said. I look to Jonathan shyly, and he's already stopped his hammer to look at me.

'We tried, Jonathan,' I mumble, sniffling. 'but it's no use. Let's just go home.'

'Go home?' He asks. 'No way! We said we were going to build Castle Byers, we always said we would. And we are. With or without Dad. He'll just have to miss out,'

"just like you drew it." Jonathan tells me, his face scrunching up a bit as he chuckles. "And it took so long because you were so bad at hammering."

But you were still patient with me. You helped me get through it even though you were going through the same thing... And I never thanked you for that.

I feel my mouth begin to twitch as I try to say the words, but nothing comes out. It was working, it was almost working! But I don't think he can tell...

"And then it started raining, but we stayed out there anyway." Like Mom, his voice started to crack. "And we were both sick for like a week after that."

You let me stay in your room and we played cards and other games while we were stuck in bed.

"But we just had to finish it, didn't we?"

Suddenly, I felt my fingers tap the sides of the chair. But, it was me! I think it was me!

"We just had to." Jonathan repeated, his voice still breaking.

Jonathan, Mom, anyone! Is anyone seeing its working?

"Do you remember the first day that we met?"

It was Mike speaking now, and my head turned to meet him. Again! I can't quite be sure if it was really my doing but any question of it went out the window when I saw his expression. He had stepped forward, and I noticed he was crying.

"It was... It was the first day of kindergarten." He spoke with a big lump in his throat. "I knew nobody."

A swingset... I remember a swingset...

"I had no friends and..." he sniffled. "I just felt so alone and so scared, but..."

He looked up at me, and for a brief moment it was the same look from that day. The details were still fuzzy but, that look I recognized. Sad but hopeful.

"I saw you on the swings and you were alone, too." He fought a hiccup as he spoke, the kind from crying and another tear rolled down his cheek. "You were just swinging by yourself. And I just walked up to you and... I asked."

'Hi, um, my name's Mike...'

He was looking at me, and he kept shuffling on his feet. He looked a lot more nervous than mean. I look up at him, and decide giving my name wouldn't hurt.

"I'm Will," I whisper.

"I asked if you wanted to be my friend." He chokes. "And you said yes..."

"Do... Do you wanna be my friend?"

Everyone else was picking on me for not knowing anyone. But he wants to be my friend!

I smile, pointing to the open swing next to me. "Yeah! Wanna play?"

Mike smiled at me, and took the seat. He looked pretty happy. But I am too!

"You said yes," he croaks. "It was the best thing I've ever done."

I can feel my face start to break, every twitch is a sign I'm gaining control even though my fingers are still moving as well. With all the strength I can gather, I'm able to turn my head at Mom. Fighting against him feels like I'm swimming up stream.

Mom, please get me out. I think I'm losing...

For once I feel hopeful that she notices something when she starts searching my eyes, my expressions and I'm still fighting. I have to fight for every muscle, and doing that feels like every one of them is made of lead.

Mom must have caught something in my eyes cause of the look in hers. But it's too late. I can feel him pushing back again.

No! Leave. Me. Alone! Leave me alone. I want my mom! I just want my mom!

I feel an overwhelming chill and I feel my body temperature drop again, not even realizing it had started to creep up again. The fog was coming back, and quicker and stronger than ever until I could barely hold on.

Then I hear my voice again.

"Let me go."

No! No, stop! STOP!

But then Mom looks away and down at the floor, sighing, and I feel whatever crumb of hope I had dissapear.

What? No, Mom, look. Just please look! Talk to me, stay with me, just please don't leave!

She looks like she's contemplating something, and then she looks up at Mike asking a question with her eyes. I can't imagine what, but Mike seems to understand. Then, they both look past the post at the figure I had never made out.

"Sweetie, why don't you come say hi?" My mom croaks to the stranger.

My head moves to look all around the room and allowing me to look at the others expressions. They all watch expectantly, and when my eyes land on Mike's he nods at the figure.

My body tenses suddenly but I don't know why. He seems to though, and it feels like another wave of ice is pumped into my bloodstream.

For a moment, there's the sound of shuffling footsteps and I barely detect movement. Like they're inching away from the hiding spot.

Then she steps out from behind the thick sheet of white light wearing a timid, tearstreaked face.

Y/n! You're here!

The one blissful movement I have vanishes in an instant when he takes full control once more. My muscles tighten and I feel my jaw clench shut, and the pain of the wires against my skin comes back as he starts moving me again. My face curls and I hear my voice saying such bad things to her.

"Get out!" She winces, but this time she doesn't listen to him. "GO AWAY!"

"No," she states, but I can tell it's hard for her. "not until I talk to Will."

"GO AWAY! GO AWAY! GO AWAY!"

"-Will" my mom tries.

My body starts to move again, fighting against the restraints and Hopper has to pin me back again.

I can feel his anger again. But there was something else too. The same thing I felt the first time he took total control.

Fear.

Y/n, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I'm trying. I'm fighting! I don't mean it, I don't mean it!

He still fights and kicks, but the longer I see her the less I care about the pain on my ankles and wrists. It's the look on her face, she's heartbroken. She looks destroyed. Just as upset as she was that night, and guilt pulls me back down. My strength for fighting him diminishes, but what stops it from dissapearing altogether is the fact she hasn't moved.

All she had done was take the seat across from me. And just... waited.

He kicked and screamed until I felt my limbs grow tired, but still she waited. Once again since I woke up, I'm happy that Hopper was here to hold me back so I didn't break free.

How are you not leaving? After all I did?

Finally, he starts to stop, and thats when I feel Hopper's hand slowly release me. And even though he stopped, the menacing glare he gave her never weakened.

"Will," she says finally. "I know... I know you're in there."

Like Mike, her voice is already strained as she speaks through her tears. Even her nose sounds a bit clogged and I feel my heart break and stomach sink all over again. How hard I was making her cry.

She sniffles, and she begins wringing her hands revealing her nerves. Then she raises them in defense, her arms still glued to her legs as she leans on them.

"I'm just here to talk, I promise."

I know, Y/n. I trust you. I really hope you know that.

He doesn't agree though, he's furious she's even here. Every nerve is standing on edge and I feel colder than ever.

Leave her alone!

I feel my nerves jump, he's still anxious to get away from her.

"What about the day I officially joined the party? Do you remember that?"

My heart is pounding violently against my ribcage almost to a point it hurts to breathe. She's looking into my eyes, likes she's trying to find me. I think she actually is. Just like what happened with the others, the picture is hard to find. It's all just too fuzzy. The small part of me that's left can tell Y/n knows my answer, and that she's dissapointed. But she still doesn't appear mad at me, even though she has every reason to be.

"It was around fifth grade," she began, "You guys had been friends with Dustin for almost a year, and even though everyone saw, and treated me as Dustin's sister... you didn't."

She paused for a moment, trying to keep her sobs in. I could tell by the way her jaw clenched and she bit the inside of her cheek. My own throat began to swell as I felt an enormous lump growing in the back. I hate seeing her so sad, and I hate even more that I'm the reason. She began shaking her head.

"Sometime during spring vacation, I remember Dustin coming up to me all cranky" she chuckled, and looked down at the floor lost in the memory. I waited for her to continue, wanting nothing more than to soak up the missing details when she smiled. "He had just come home from playing with you guys at Mikes, and he was holding a small yellow card with my name on it,"

Y/n grinned, looking at her hands wistfully as if she could still see the card in her hands.

And then she looks up at me, with a wide, trembling smile but there were still tears in her eyes.

"It was an invitation to your birthday party,"

The thick layer of static over the memory flickered, and for a brief second the image was clear and I could make out one thing. Just a small moment in time.

Y/n, she looked a lot younger. She was standing in my backyard. But she was off to the side, all alone. She was watching Lucas and Dustin bobbing for apples in a big pool.

"From you. You had insisted I come and you knew Dustin couldn't say no," she laughs.

"I was so excited, but," she sniffled, her smile falling. "even Lucas and Mike didn't bother to include me, they all forgot I was there and for a moment I thought nothing would change. But... then you came up to me, smiling all nervously, but without skipping a beat you asked me. You asked if I wanted to do something else."

"It was so casual, too. We weren't even proper friends yet, and it was your birthday party, but you knew something was wrong, and you asked me how I could feel more included."

Y/n shakes her head, seeming disbelieving.

"We talked for a bit, and then you offered to show me Castle Byers. 'It's just over the hill,' you told me. So we went - and figures, the guys never realized we were gone - but I thought it was, just, the best thing. We played in there for a few minutes, these toy cars were all you had in there at the time,"

She chuckled, and held up her hands to demonstrate something of size.

"I remember you had this Tonka Truck, it was just smaller than a toaster and you let me play with it. You said it always cheered you up, and maybe it would help me, too. You even let me keep it at the end of the day, cause you saw how happy I was, even though the truck wasn't what me so happy."

I could feel my face twitching again, my fingers drumming against the chair numbingly. And then I felt a single hot tear slide down my cheek, and his discomfort grew.

"But you told me something in Castle Byers that day, something I don't think I'll ever forget, even if I wanted to..." she was crying again. "You told me, that we could go talk to the others and convince them to let me join, that I could be your guys' friend... I asked you why you were being so nice to me, why you wanted me to apart of your group,"

A small sob came out in the form of a chuckle, and she wiped a tear off her cheek.

"And you told me it was because that was your birthday wish."

The room was dead silent again, and I could hear sniffles coming not only from Y/n, but Mom and Jonathan, too.

"Sure enough, we were all the best of friends just days later. We were building forts, playing cards, I think we even got our walkies a few months later and stayed up all night leraning morse code... You helped me make that happen, Will. And I'll always be greatful for that."

Another tear slips down my cheek, but I feel my face is as still as stone. The next thing I feel is his icy grip pulling me back down, and this time I know in my gut it's for good. In once desperate attempt, I scream for my muscles - my arms, legs, head, anything to see if I can move. And that's when I realize, my fingers are still wiggling. I don't think he can tell. I don't think he knows.

He's too focused on her! I just need them to look. I can get a message out. My fingers tap just a little louder as I try to remember the right combination.

Right. Here.

As I focus all my energy into the message, I hear her broken voice speak again.

Right. Here.

Here.

"Will, if-if you're in there," she looks around at eveyone else in the room and back to me. "Please, just talk to us. Say anything, just please help us help you."

Right. Here.

The fog grows, stretching farther over me and chilling my body.

Right. Here.

Come on, hurry up. Anyone!

Here.

Am I remembering it wrong?

Here.

Hopper jumps up abruptly, glancing quickly across the room, and back once more at me. Suddenly, his hand dives into his pocket to fish something out.

Here.

He pulls out a vial - or is a needle? - I can't quite make it out in the light but I see him uncap whatever it is, walking towards me.

Here.

It plunges into my arm and before I know it I feel myself growing sleepy. The last thing I feel is cold fear and the feel my fingers slowing growing sluggish against the cardboard until it stops altogether.

Here...

||3rd Person POV||

Will awakes once more, attempting to process the many things flooding his senses. The return of the chemicals in his nostrils and throat, the blinding white light blocking his vision, and the feeling of being watched. But this time, he does not wake to a dead silent room, but a string of all too familiar music floods his ears.

The first notes of Should I Stay or Should I Go explode through the quiet air, and strangely enough for Will, everyone inside with him has dawned an all new demeanor. They aren't weary anymore, rather they are determined. Jonthan is the first to take a seat across from his brother, an expecting look in his eyes.

"Do you remember the first time I played you this?"

Will's body sits completely still, a lost look in his eyes.

"Mom and Dad were both arguing in the next room," Jonathan continues. "So I played you the mix tape I made you. And it was the first time you got into music. Real music."

Steadily, his fingers begin to tap a new pattern all unbeknownst to the Mind Flayer who watches his captors studiously. Particularly the young Henderson girl lingering in the corner awaiting her turn.

All the while, Hopper stands behind the Byers boy, walkie behind his back as he echoes the boy's message to the other half of the team waiting inside to translate.

Lucas, Dustin, and Nancy surround the kitchen table. Each with a task of their own.

"Dash, dot, dash, dot," Dustin mumbles, feverishly scribbling them on a piece of paper.

Lucas and Max scan the coordinating letter provided on an old guide.

"Dash, dot, dash... Yeah, got it!" Lucas exclaims. "C!"

Nancy transcribes onto a fresh piece of paper and this process continues as the others take turns talking to Will. Mike is next.

"And then the party escaped into the sewers," he recalls excitedly. "and there were those big insect things, and you guys were still on level one. Then you cast Fog Cloud and you saved us. You saved the whole party!"

Another pattern by Will turned into another letter on paper as the kids listened intently to Hopper's incoming message.

"L!"

"Dash dash-"

"-O!"

"We were so happy to see snow," Y/n explains, arms waving as she reimagines the moment. "and we got so wrapped up in our snowball fight, we didn't see my mom open the garage and when you ducked, I knocked over the old floor lamp that had been sitting out there. We had to spend the rest of the day cleaning it up, but we couldn't stop laughing,"

"-S,"

"You saw how sad Y/n was," Joyce says, knowing she was just about to reveal a fact to the girl in the room, a fact she might have missed out. But this doesn't stop her from telling the story, or breaking away from her son's gaze. "and when you two came back from Castle Byers, I saw her thanking you for your Tonka Truck."

"-E."

"and I pulled you aside before she left, and I told you that we couldn't afford to buy another one,"

Y/n's eyes flicker from Joyce back to Will, swallowing the entirely new perspective her side of the story revealed.

"-G."

Joyce began to choke on her words at the pride of her son, as well as Y/n who stood off in the corner with a simultaneous swelling, and breaking of her heart. "You said she should have it because she was sad. She's sad, Mom, and I want to make that go away."

"-A."

"I love you so much," Joyce tearfully coos.

"-T."

"So, so much."

"-E!"

The play button ejects on the Byers boom box, the music coming to an end and the others gather around Nancy at the table. Will's message drips off their tongues simultaneously and a chill spreads through the air at what it reads.

"CLOSE GATE"

A loud, shrill ring pierces the chilled air and a total of six heads whip up at the startling noise of the Byers phone; All who are inside, and the sixth belonging to Will.

The rest in the shed follow suit, and they experience the plunging feeling of fear as they realize what is about to happen.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Dustin spews through his clenched jaw, the first of his group to reach the phone.

He rips it off the line and slams it back down.

The others look around at one another, silently wondering if they were in the clear. A second shrill ring answers their question, and Dustin scrambles to hang up the phone. Nancy beats him to it, and rips the phone - mount and all - and throws it to the ground with an angred grunt.

Everyone sighs, and Max is first to voice their shared concern.

"Do you think he heard that?"

"It's just a phone," Steve replies, his tone of voice betraying his intended confidence. "It could be anywhere... Right?"

Without his permission, Will's eyelids flutter closed and his head begins to twitch.

The Mind Flayer had begun his search.

"Hey," Joyce jumps up worriedly, placing her palm on her son's knee gently shaking it to get his attention. "Hey, can you hear me?"

His bretahing grows increasingly ragged, his eyes moving under his eyelids as the tunnels begin to spread under his command.

Hopper kneels down beside Will, his voice grave. "It knows. It knows where we are."

"Shit," Joyce hisses.

She jumps from her seat altogether and grabs the remaining dose of anesthesia and plunges into Will's other arm. His head drops in seconds and Hopper, Y/n and Jonathan flood outside onto the lawn. Their eyes scan the trees behind them, as well as the rest of the backyard but it is eerily silent.

Until the piercing cry of the Demodogs carries through the air, and across the night sky announcing their advances.

The others hear it even from inside the house, and they near the window. Moonlight spills onto their faces, illuminating their fear as they realize the dangers to come.

"That's not good," Dustin breaths, paralyzed.

The quartet return to the shed, pushing themselves past the makesshift curtains blanketing the door.

"They're coming!" Jonathan cried to his mother and Mike.

Everyone scrambles to untangle Will from his restraints, and scurry inside, Will over Jonathan's shoulder.

The only one to linger is Hopper, who hesitates outside the shed, and goes back for the rifle that sat amongst the pile of the sheds discarded things.

He's the last to enter the house, closing and locking the door behind him, and yet he does not know what good it will do them. He marches across the kitchen, grabbing the other rifle he had nabbed from the lab, and enters the living room. His eyes widen when he sees the children packed against the windows on the couch.

"Hey." He barks. "Hey, get away from the windows!"

They scramble off the couch and one by one everyone else files into the living room as they prepare. Hopper's scanning eyes land on Jonathan and he holds up one of the rifles.

"Do you know how to use this?"

"What?" Jonathan asks, still processing the sudden change of events.

"Can you use this?" Hopper seethes, turning red in the face as his impatience grows.

Another voice answers.

"I can,"

Dustin and Jonathan part as Nancy steps forward, and catches the rifle in her hands without a second thought. Her and Hopper cock their guns, and take their aim. In a matter of moments, everyone is packed in against one other in a protective huddle, their hearts beating as loud as drums. Some were lucky - and quick - enough to get their hands on anything they could use as a weapon. Apart from Y/n, who began wringing out her hands and attempting to shake out her nerves, and Steve who wielded his signature weapon; the spiked bat.

The tense silence grows thicker, hanging in the air far longer than any one of them would have preferred. The occasional chitter could be heard, and the rusting of branches followed all too soon.

"Where are they?" Max cries, her fear grows when she finds herself without a weapon.

Subconsciously, she moves herself tighter to be near Lucas who has drawn his wrist rocket.

Another silence, and the next noise to be heard beside their ragged breaths is the sudden groaning of the beast who growing closer by the second.

What sounded to a select few like a human cry was drowned out in the several thuds and more screeches from the Demodogs. The sound of branches breaking outside brought everyone's attention - and aim - to the dining room window visible from where they stood.

"What are they doing?" Nancy mumbled through her fearful panting.

Everyone could see the leaves shake violently against the window as if something had landed in the bushes.

The battle cries of the Demodogs flew from window to window at an alarming speed, as did the barrels of Hopper and Nancy's guns.

Everyone watches with great worry and confusion as the battle cries quickly turn to cries of pain. And for one small moment they think they hear the sounds of bones crushing as it screeches in pain.

Before their minds can conjure any possible explanation, the far left window pane shatters as the body of a Demodog comes crashing onto the living room floor. Violent cries of terror rip from everyone's throats as they jump out of the way, turning on the intruder.

Their guards lower on a single notch as they realize the thing lays completely lifeless. And yet, they creep forward to examine the body, Hopper the closest of all as he advances on what he hopes is its corpse.

"Holy shit," Dustin whispers.

"Is it dead?" Max gapes, wearily inching forward towards the monster.

Hopped takes a deep breath, gun still drawn and finger on the trigger and inches his boot closer to the Demodog. It's lifeless head falls to the side limply, and everyone breathes what they know to be a temporary sigh of relief.

The relief is snatched up in seconds, and everyone's guard returns when they hear a soft wooden creak coming from the front door. Everyone returns to their position, weapons drawn ready to fight.

An unusual sight turns their heads as they watch the deadbolt unlock by itself. It's sharp click booms in their ears like thunder. Everyone creeps forward by a mere few steps, and in their heightened adrenaline fueled state, they begin to questions the Demodogs capabilities if only for a fleeting moment before dismissing it altogether.

They watch in awe as the chain lock on the door, slides itself unlocked, and drops instantly, swing limply against the door. It creates a taunting scrape as it grazes the door.

Everyone wonders what they are about to face, everyone apart from a the dutiful chief, a missing experiment, and a certain boy who does not dare let himself entertain the idea in fear of another painful heartbreak.

With soft and muffled clicks from the tumblers, the wooden door creaks open painfully slow. A worn out pair of white sneakers fit around a dainty pair of feet cross the threshold and onto the wooden floors.

All weapons lower immediately in shock as they gape at the sight before them. Standing across the room in a brand-new wardrobe and slightly longer hair blending perfectly with her usual bleeding nose and fierce look in her eye was none other than El.

Her eyes scan the small crowd of familiar and unfamiliar shock-ridden faces until they land on the one she had never stopped dreaming about. Her heart skips a beat when she does not seem him at first before bursting altogether when he steps out from behind Hopper's towering frame.

His widened eyes are swimming in tears as he gazes at her as of she were mirage. Her hard and concentrated glare melts immediately into vulnerability as she meets his eyes, feeling eerily similar to him as if he would inevitably disappear as soon as she woke up.

And instantaneously, matching bright smiles break out on their faces when they know.

Neither of them were dreaming, and at long last, they had finally found one another again.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

PLEASE!!! Don't stop fighting for black lives. This has been said a thousand times and it shouldn't have ever needed be said in the first place but just because it isn't on the news as much anymore, that it's not "trending" anymore doesn't mean it's over. Please continue fighting back and doing what you can. Links below as usual.

Protect Protestors From Federal Officers

[my city of Portland is not the only one to face this, as there are plans of using this tactic on other cities trump views as a threat. Please help!]

[Link]

Black Trans Education Foundation GoFundMe

"We're raising money to provide $3,000 scholarships directly to 20 black trans students."

Donate if you can and please, please share!!

[Link]

rown & black businesses damaged by the protests

"In efforts to help Black & Brown businesses that were damaged during riots this weekend, @ buyblackatl and @ spoiledberry are raising money. Please share this, and if you or anyone you know owns a Black/Brown owned business that was impacted, please contact us. 🖤"

[Link]

+++

Tag List: @dickkwad @aimee-lucass @iblesstherainsdown-in-africa @miscellaneoustoasts @happyandlonely-blog @missmulti @youpi-chan @peeperparkour @ba-responds @bibliophilesquared @blogforhoes @witch-of-all-things-soft @shawkneecaps @whothefuckstolemykeds @mirdall @fishswimbetterunderwater @daughter-of-the-stars11 @stranger-things4 @heavenlycat567 @nightbu-g @grapesauze

DM me, or drop by my inbox if you want to be added!

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squidos-goodies · 3 years

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Hi there!! Uuuhh I’m super nervous and awkward sending you this but I told myself I wouldn’t be a coward and go on anon like I usually do awjldkdojs. But anyways, I’m wondering if you have any specific process for writing your longer fics, as far as planning/outlining goes, or even just writing the scenes in any particular order, etc etc?? I’m asking because I really love your writing and I’ve been working on a fic of my own for a couple months now, and it’s been a.... slow process. I’ve never actually gone through with a bigger project like this so I guess I’m just wondering if you have any tips? :0

why hello there, friend!

first things first i’m really proud of you for reaching out without anon! that took a lot of courage, especially to a content creator who you look up to. seriously, props to you!

okay so let’s get down to business. the secret to writing long fics... is to tell yourself they’ll only be a chapter or two!

okay i’m only partially kidding. while yes, having a plan and an outline and an ambitious scope are great, they’re daunting. it seems like it’ll never get done and you dread how long it’ll take to get to the parts you really want to write. with a shorter fic—or a fic you think will be shorter—you don’t have to deal with those intimidating prospects. if you only plan a little bit at a time and take it in tiny chucks, only fleshing out ideas as you get closer to them, it’s a lot more manageable. that’s what happened in What Hyrule Hadn’t Seen.

but maybe that’s not going to work for you. maybe you want a massive scale. maybe you want it to be more meticulously planned so you can create gorgeous literature with dozens of plot threads like @seekingseven or @dragon-of-dreams-linkeduniverse‘s stunning longfics. in that case, you would need to plan more and have a better idea of the scope and shape of your story. in this case, i recommend a beta, or at least someone who’s In On It. you tell them all your ideas, bounce things off of them, and keep them posted on your progress. they can also encourage you when the writing juices aren’t flowing, help you come up with ideas when you feel stuck, and talking to them about your fic can help you get started after a lot of time off. polteageist on the LU discord is my beta and i could Not have gotten as far as i have without her scheming and support.

but of course, maybe you’re too scared to ask for one or work best alone. that’s totally understandable! in that case, it helps to break your fic down a little bit. look at milestones, split it into thirds, make it seem more manageable. your interpretation of your own work can do wonders on how well you’re able to work on it. try to enjoy having a longfic, having that constant that’s always there and you can pick it up anytime and work on it. believe me that once you finish, it’ll feel really weird. enjoy it while you have it! :D i like to outline by making a bulleted list of all the plot points i wanna hit and then indent when i elaborate on them. color coding can be nice, but i’ve actually found myself shying away from it. also, make a meme out of your outline. seriously, it’s way more fun to write and read it that way. lemme see if i can find some ridiculous snippets of outlines i’ve made for longer fics. ah, here! “Heehoo baddies go brr” and “Ack bad vibes oh noes it’s a dink” and “AWWW FLUFF” and “spoopy forest noises” and “MORE SKY ANGSTTTTTTT” okay outlines are secretly just an excuse to meme on your own story

i know that most people don’t write this way, but my personal belief is that you gotta write in order. i have no self control, so if i get to The Scene™ i wrote the fic for—we all have them—then suddenly i don’t want to write the rest of the fic. why should i? i have The Scene™. also scene writing is WAY easier when when you know what came before it, because you can work with that and build off it and either allude to it or contrast it depending on what you’re going for. i find it easiest to write in order so i can also get a feel for what the characters have been through. by writing the story in order, i’m going on this journey with them and i’m experiencing what they’re experiencing as i write and it’s not uncommon for me to get to a Scene™ and say “no. no that isn’t what would happen here. now that i see all the scenes laid out in front of me, he wouldn’t act like this.” and that’s totally okay! those changes are good and usually end up with everyone seeming more in character than they would have otherwise.

that’s all i’ve got for now, but i invite my other longfic-writing-friends to pitch in because y’all are amazing and if you think you’re not qualified to give advice and you have a fic kicking around that’s approaching or over 20k words, then yeah, that’s a Long Fic and thus a longfic and thus you can write longfics, cuz you wrote one. full disclosure, nobody has any idea what they’re doing basically all of the time, but say what you can—seriously, you’re doing more than you realize without even realizing it! (that didn’t make any sense)

ANYWAY enough of my nonsense XD i hope this was helpful, @echoing-sounds! i hope you have a wonderful time writing your longfic! if you’d like to yeet a link to it my way if you have anything posted, i’m certainly not opposed to giving it a looksee :O

and with that, my friends, adieu!

(and to those of you looking for news on To Isolate, it’s slow going right now but I am working on it! fear not, dear readers, it will be completed!)

i love all you folks!!! <3 thank you for your support. i know i wouldn’t be where i am without you.

#professor squido #squido rambles

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rosesisupposes · 4 years

Note

also 114 + roceit?

Lover Prompts

114: “I once believed love would be burning red, but it’s golden”

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pairing: Roceit

tags: post-breakup, bartender/patron, bad ex, nobinary Deceit, Deceit is named Dante, this is a lot of projection and i won’t apologize

word count: 1,815

read on ao3

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The day Roman met Dante was the worst day of his life.

Not because of them. The two events were unrelated. (Time’s just funny that way).

But the fact remains that Dante’s first words to him were “Well don’t you look like shit. What happened, did the Beast steal your Belle?”

To D’s credit, they had no idea what an effect their words would have. But that didn’t stop Roman from flipping them off as he started to cry all over their bar again.

And that left them with a choice. Ignore the crying man, as they’ve ignored so many bar patrons, passing him drinks in silence until he drinks himself into becoming a part of it. It would be a little different - most patrons aren’t in an outfit that looks straight out of a Disney coloring book. But they could do it. Or, instead, they could do this.

“Forgive me, Princey, that was uncalled for. Let me get you a drink, you tell me all about it, hmm?”

And the man dressed like a prince looked up, tears still leaking out of his eyes, and nodded.

Dante was a professional. They prided themselves on the ability to match a drink to a mood - not always what their patrons wanted, but always what they needed. And what this face needed was maudlin, but not self-pitying. Something with some sweetness, but complexity.

“Un Vieux Carre pour le monsiuer,” they said with a smile, sliding the elegant cocktail to land in the man’s immediately open hand.

“Merci beaucoup,” he responded, almost automatically. He took a sip, and paused, looked down into the glass, and carefully took a second, swirling it in his mouth.

“Like it? It’s a New Orleans classic,” Dante said, leaning on the bar. It was a quiet Tuesday night, they had time to chat. “Let me know what you think, or if you want, you can tell me why royalty is getting weepy in my bar tonight.”

Tears started leaking once more.

“Or we can start with your name?”

“Roman.”

“Good evening, Roman. I’m Dante. If you forgot about seeing the sign already, this is The Snake’s Den bar, and I’m the snake. Now that we’re all caught up, how’s that drink-”

“It’s my fucking boyfr- my fucking ex!” Roman cried out suddenly, interrupting the bartender’s calm voice. “That absolute- he just- and then he-!” and there were tears leaking down his face again, but hotter now, dripping with anger and not just despair. He swigged more of his drink, and kept talking, words tumbling out like a burst dam.

“We’d been together for years, and I thought it was perfect, ya know, we were both actors! We understood the struggle together! And he’d encourage me to try out for the big parts that I would have only dreamed of, but I actually got some of them! And then this- this fucking play, it’s only my childhood dream, and he says, “Oh, wouldn’t it be fun to be castmates?” and we both audition, me for the Beast and him for Gaston, but then it turns out, oh, actually, he went the FUCK behind my back and auditioned for the Beast too!”

Dante listened, nodding and humming in understanding, a perfect sounding board. “That must have been tense when he told you,” they offered sympathetically.

Roman slumped at that. “I wish. My friend texted me that the cast list had been posted and I wasn’t on it. I told him I was on the way to his place cause I needed to talk, and before I could get there, he… broke up with me. Via text message.”

In spite of themself, Dante gasped aloud. “He did not!”

“He did! Like, am I in some fuckin’ teenage melodrama?! Did I somehow date a cartoonishly terrible villain in a DCOM?!”

Dante nodded sagely. “Perhaps that’s why he didn’t go for Gaston - he wouldn’t have had to act at all.”

Roman leaned forward, eyes flashing. “And you know what’s even worse?! He’d been helping me prepare for my audition and listening to all the ideas I’ve had for how I would play the Beast, if I got the chance! But I didn’t want to make too bold a choice in the audition room, so I was holding out. And that piece of shit used my idea to get the part!”

“A scoundrel and a thief!”

“And you know the absolute worst part?”

“What?”

Roman seemed to freeze as his thought connected from brain to mouth and he processed it fully. His shoulders slumped. “I wish he’d take me back.”

Dante stood up straight. “My dear Roman emperor, let me be the first to tell you: bullshit. To quote a wise scholar: “He doesn’t deserve you! If he doesn’t treat you right by now, you’re gone.””

Roman smiled weakly. “But he- he pushed me, in my acting. He was my fire, the one who encouraged me to be ambitious and dream big and- without him… I don’t know that I’ll be able to.”

Dante nodded. They spoke softly, calmly. “Roman, I’m going to say something that might be hard to hear. His actions in these auditions? They showed that not only did he not respect this dream, but he never respected any of them. He only wanted you to succeed as far as it made him look good.”

Roman scowled. “He was an ass, but he wasn’t that, he wasn’t just a manipulative bastard, he believed in me-”

“He didn’t,” Dante interrupted. They were still calm, almost gentle. “He believed in his ability to keep pushing you to be an asset to him. Until it wasn’t beneficial anymore.”

“No-”

“And you knew this, deep down. And that part of you wasn’t taken by surprise.”

Roman stared, his face a mask of many emotions at once - confusion, heartbreak, denial, acceptance, but what won out was rage.

“You know what? Fuck you, I don’t need your psychoanalysis bullshit! Hasn’t my day been hard enough? See you fucking never!”

Dante watched him storm out, leaving the rest of his drink. A man in a prince costume, disappearing into the night. If it had been a decent narrative, it would have been raining.

But narratives aren’t often perfect.

Neither are promises made in anger.

Dante looked up to see Roman arriving back at The Snake’s Den only days later, looking a bit chagrined and only slightly less regal out of costume.

“Barkeep, I regretfully did not pay for my drink at our last encounter, and have come to rectify it.”

Dante nodded graciously. “While I appreciate your integrity, it was on the house.”

“Nevertheless, I insist that you accept payment.”

“Why don’t you have another, keep me company on slow evening?” they suggested.

Roman hesitated for all of a second before sitting down once more, the same stool as the last time.

Two months later, it was Roman’s Stool and no one dared occupy it even in his absence, unless it was truly and utterly packed.

In two months more, Roman had dragged friends to the Den too, but none became a fixture the way the actor was.

And one week after that, it was another quiet evening. A Tuesday, just as it had been before. (Time is rather funny that way).

And in one of the comfortable silences that patron and bartender often found themselves sliding into and out of with ease, Roman cleared his throat.

Dante looked up. “Yes, darling?” Their nicknames and pet names had escalated the day Roman realized he needed an honorific besides ‘sir’ or ‘madam’ and had chosen ‘dearest,’ but neither of them seemed to mind.

“My dear, I- remember what you said, that first night?”

Dante pursed their lips. “Of course I do. And I stand by it.”

Roman nodded. “I… I know you do. I know you wouldn’t lie to me.”

“I might lie to other people though,” they pointed out blandly. “Like the people who come in with a sob story when it’s all just their own choices. Because the boss said I can’t call people ‘sad sacks of pathos’ any more.”

“Your way with words will never fail to delight me, my Divine Comedian. I know you didn’t think it was a lie, but I didn’t fully believe you until recently.”

Dante put down their cleaning cloth and leaned in near their friend. “May I be so bold as to ask what changed?”

“So this will sound a little melodramatic-”

“You? Dramatic? Perish the thought.”

“Fuck you too, my sweet serpent.”

Dante blew a kiss and fluttered their eyelashes at him. “Pardon me, I interrupted you, you were saying?”

Roman shifted in his seat, adjusting without meeting Dante’s eyes. “I didn’t want to believe you, that that bastard was never cheering me on for my sake alone. Because- I said he was my fire, and I meant it. He was determined, and ambitious, and I thought that him urging me on meant that I was sharing in it. He was burning red, and that was what I wanted to be, and I thought I could be an equal flame where we burned stronger together.”

Dante nodded, humming quietly in understanding without interrupting.

“But instead, I was just the candle that helped him burn brighter while slowly melting away. I was always so exhilarated with him, excited but then so exhausted. I always wanted to be more, or wanted to be what he wanted, at least. And he always wanted more. I tried and tried and I could never be enough because he just… he drained me.” A single tear leaked out and courses down Roman’s tan cheek.

Dante reached over and wrapped their hand around his, and squeezed. “Love could look like that, could look like encouragement and ambition. But I don’t think that’s what you had, Ro.”

Roman blinked up at them. Both realized it was the first nickname based on their actual name that either had used. “So I wasn’t just a fool to think he really meant it?”

“Of course not, sweetheart. He was the fool, to not fully appreciate you.”

The lights of the bar shone through tawny bottles of liquor and glinted off the brass trappings, bathing them in a warm glow. Roman looked up at Dante, and he could have sworn they were absorbing the light and releasing it anew, their golden skin practically incandescent. And their smile, softening as they looked at Roman, focused on brushing away the dampness from his face, a careful and doting look that they never directed at their other friends.

Roman swallowed hard. “Dante, darling?”

They met his eyes, face lighting with a smile that rivaled the sun. “Yes, Roman?”

“I think I know what love looks like, now.”

“And what’s that?”

Roman rose up to Dante’s eye level, cupping their cheek in his hand. “It’s golden,” he breathed out, before their lips met.

#roses writes fanfic #roceit #prompt fill #ts roman #ts deceit #post break up fic #getting together #bartender deceit #nonbinary deceit #projecting onto roman time babes

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mendedwings · 3 years

Text

Tipping Point

Happy holidays, @quilleth! I got you for @fyeah7kpp Secret Santa, and much as I love all your girls, well, far be it from me to pass up a chance at writing my favorite antisocial bookworm. :D I guess this would somewhere week 3? Before the matches are set but far enough for there to be feelings and pining and the whole nine yards.

----

There was a moment where Alvida genuinely feared the teetering stack of books would tilt too far and tumble to the floor. Uncertain she’d noticed in time to prevent disaster, she nonetheless made a rather undignified lurch forward and managed to get a steadying hand against the tomes just before they reached the tipping point. She sighed in relief as she shifted the stack to firmer footing, her lips quirked in a private, wry smile. I do have a reputation of being over-ambitious.

The thought occurred, with something that could almost be called humor, that the book stack did actually make a rather fitting metaphor for her life. A pile of interests and goals, one askew atop another, balanced perilously close to ruin, and her forced to desperate lengths to keep it from falling apart.

Alvida smoothed the front of her blouse, then straightened the stack of books. Sitting on the not-quite waist high desk it came almost to her chin. This was going to be tricky.

You could always put a couple back for later, a little voice prodded.

But I don’t want to, Alvida retorted silently. She had a lot of free time on her hands this week, she could get quite a bit of reading done. (and if she was, in part, trying to delay thinking about certain important decisions, well, that was only because she was trying to get her heart and head to agree before making them.) She brushed her fingertips up the spines, double-checking the titles. All of them covered topics she and Lyon had talked about when last they met, a conversation as comfortable as it was challenging. While she’d mostly managed to keep up with him, it had shown some gaps in her knowledge she wanted to fill. Also, there were a few subjects where Lyon’s passion--quiet as it was, it was still obvious--had inspired her to read more about them. Hence, the stack of books half her own height that she needed to get back to her room.

Somehow.

Perhaps she was, for once, being overly ambitious. But she really wanted to do this in one trip. It lessened the odds of encountering someone like Princess Gisette or, heaven forbid, Lord Blain in the hallway.

Biting her lip in concentration, Alvida started wiggling the now-even stack closer to the edge of the desk so she could get her hands under it. She let out a quiet grunt and stumbled back a step when the full weight of the books settled against her chest. She steadied herself, took a deep breath, and turned to start off.

Only to all but run into the aforementioned duke after just a couple steps.

Coming to the abrupt stop required to avoid a collision set Alvida teetering backward under the weight of her books again. Lyon’s hand started to rise, as if intending to grab her arm, but she stepped back, caught her balance before he completed the motion. The stack of book started tipping dangerously forward, however, and Lyon steadied them instead.

“Sorry,” Alvida murmured, fingers curling around the bottom edge of the stack. “I didn’t see you there.”

One side of Lyon’s mouth twitched ever so faintly, so much so she wondered if she imagined it. He took in the daunting pile of books in her arms, quickly reading the titles as he went. “...Where were you going with all of these?”

“Back to my room.” She shifted her grip and swayed a bit in the process. “I have quite a bit of free time, and I wanted to have peace and quiet, to better focus.” A small smile curved her lips. “Unless you’d like to help me make another book fort in here?”

Lyon hesitated for long enough to actually be considering it before shaking his head. (Reluctantly? It looked reluctant to her, but maybe she was seeing things.) “Can’t. General Falon wanted to talk to me.” He ran another look over the tomes weighing down Alvida’s waifish form, then without preamble took the top two thirds of the stack he’d helped steady and shifted to his own arms. “...but I can walk you back to your room.”

“Oh.” OH. Alvida fumbled for a moment, flustered by the unexpected but very welcome offer, as well as the significantly lessened weight. “Thank you.”

Lyon shrugged, seeming unbothered by the weight he now carried. “It’s good you want to learn more.” He paused, as if weighing whether to say his next words. “Even if you seemed well-versed when we spoke.”

She ducked her head to hide her warming cheeks at the compliment, wishing she still had the stack of books to hide behind. “You’re just being kind-”

“No,” he cut her off with a sharp shake of his head. “I don’t say things unless they are, to the best of my knowledge, true.”

OH. “Well, thank you, then,” Alvida managed. “Our conversation showed I don’t have as good a grasp of some topics as...” You. “...as I could. And it inspired me to learn more.” You inspired me to learn more. She wasn’t sure what to do with that, if she was honest. Or the soft warmth it set humming oh-so-faintly in her chest.

“Always an admirable goal,” Lyon said, his tone neutral, but she was almost positive she caught one side of his mouth tipping toward a smile.

Silence fell between them after that as they walked through the halls. Lyon checked his stride to trail a half-step behind Alvida, so she could lead the way. She let the silence carry them half of the distance before she broke it.

“So, what does General Falon want to talk to you about?” she asked, shifting her grip on the books she still held. This was much more manageable, and she had to admit she likely would not have made it carrying the whole stack herself.

Even without looking, she sensed Lyon’s shrug. “Probably a reminder we’re here to form alliances. That I need to honor Jiyel. Scold me for spending time reading instead of fostering goodwill. Something like that.”

“Ah.” Alvida risked a look over her shoulder, which slowed her pace until he caught up to her. I suppose he wouldn’t approve of our book forts, then? “A speech you’ve heard before, I take it?” she asked instead.

“Many times.” His tone may have been neutral, but his eyes were not. “Whenever it’s felt I’m straying from my duty.”

Were she not carrying books, Alvida may have dared to reach over and pat his hand empathetically. She wasn’t sure whether she was relieved or disappointed the option was denied. It might be too forward, but the temptation was still there. Still strong. “Ah, yes, the double-edged sword of duty. We’re well-acquainted.”

Lyon was quiet a long moment before giving a single, thoughtful nod that spoke volumes. “I suppose you are.”

“It makes a fine cloak for desperation,” she said with a grim smile, thinking of her family, and her not-at-all-subtle “friend”, “as well as a harsh whip when wielded by the wrong people.”

His only reply was a soft grunt that could just as easily be agreement or dissent, or even apathy, and the silence returned until they reached Alvida’s door.

“Here,” she said, fumbling the books to one hand so she could turn the knob. A wave of relief rolled through her chest when there was no sign of her maids or Jasper, but she brushed off deeper contemplation of why that was her first reaction. At least for now.

She and Lyon set the books down on her desk, and he turned to leave.

“Wait!” Alvida reached out and grabbed his hand to stop him, momentarily caught off-guard by how warm it was. “Um. Thank you,” she said, her thumb rubbing a soft, absent arc over the heel of his hand.

Lyon opened his mouth, hesitated, then pressed his lips together before giving a jerky nod and muttering, “Enjoy your books.”

Then he slipped free of her grasp and vanished down the hall. Just like the ghost other delegates compared him to, Alvida thought glibly.

She smiled and curled her hand in until her fingers rested against her palm, as if she could preserve the lingering warmth. But only for a moment before shaking her head and giving the books her full attention.

Jasper had cautioned she’d have important decisions to make this week. As she settled in with her first book--a treatise on Jiyelan cultural mores, by the look of it--Alvida dared hope that one of them, at least, wouldn’t be hard.

#my fic #widow/lyon #lyon #widow alvida #7kpp secret santa #7kpp

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sunshinelukee · 4 years

Text

Everything Is Evolving

Luke for Glass Man Magazine

(I typed out the article because the text was so small haha, sorry for any mistakes)

It’s been over eight years since 5 Seconds of Summer (5SOS) first shook up the pop music world, but the quartet doesn’t plan on slowing down anytime soon. With their fourth studio album on the way, the hunger for the band’s unique pnuk inspired take on the conventional pop sound is growing, and its lead singer Luke Hemmings isn’t even close to finished with the band’s ambitious reign of its constantly evolving sub-genre.

Born in Sydney, Australia, 23-year-old Hemmings first caught people’s attention as an artist when he began uploading musical covers to YouTube in 2011 with fellow band members Michael Clifford and Calum Hood. Telling me about their start as musicians, Hemmings isn’t afraid to express his slight dismay looking back, “Honestly, we didn’t put much time into them. We just wanted to put something out. It was just kind of messy, we just would be like on an iPhone with a guitar player and singing, I guess. Michael was the one with a guitar and he was the one with the iPhone, so we were just recording them on that. We would just do one take, and be like ‘OK, that’s cool.’ It wasn’t until Ashton the drummer in the band would direct us more that we realized that this would be way better if we put more effort in.”

However, Hemmings does note that he thinks the chemistry between them as a band was what sprang them into the public eye, and less than two years later the band signed a contract with Sony/ATV publishing. Their first single Unplugged reached number three on the iTunes chart in Australia, despite having no real promotion or media marketing aside from Facebook and Twitter - an impressive fact. Describing these first years to me, the musician tells me about his constant drive to improve and evolve, “I feel like for us we strive to be better all the time. I think that’s very important for a band, especially for an item in this landscape, where everything is evolving and changing. I was stoked when we played to 50 people at our first couple of gigs. Your idea of a ‘made it’ moment kind of changes, which is fortunate, otherwise you’ll never progress.”

This willingness to grow as a band is what has kept 5SOS going in their almost decade long career. With the recent release of their single Teeth, part of their forthcoming album, the band moves towards a more industrial pop sound, while keeping in tune with their signature mix of punk, rock and pop influences. When asked how he would describe his sound, Hemmings laughs, “Oh, jeez! We started as a four piece pop rock band and I think that every album is different but I would still think we are a pop rock band. We have really homed in on making unique important parts that really mix up each song. I really don’t know how I’d describe it, but something like that!”

Refusing to be put in a box, Hemmings’ song writing capability and blatant dismissal of what defines pop has put him on the map as one of the least conventional stars on the scene. This album, nameless so far and set to be released next year, marks a new age for 5SOS and their sound, with Hemmings telling me, “I think it’s just and ever-evolving thing for us. What we thought was kind of staple sound of Youngblood in that whole album campaign and we kind of just went in with that mindset and tried to make it really coherent.” The musician goes on to reveal his creative process for writing and producing the new album, and the problems that come with it: “Everything goes side by side. Every time we try to write an album we try to evolve it lyrically and melodically and see what we can do as a rock band in a rock space. It’s a difficult thing to do and it’s a hard thing to do to get that balance.”

Aside from music, Hemmings also stands out for his unique approach to boy band style. Not one to follow the crowd, the star takes a hands-on approach to fashion, even talking to me about how he dyed his own socks pink with food colouring before a show, laughing, “It was actually not glamorous at all! I was doing it myself in the dressing room.” Telling me his fashion mantra, “Make do with what you can!” he lists his biggest fashion influencers, showing a special adoration for seventies glam rock. “I love the new age stuff, like leather pants with the big chains and stuff, but it kind of depends on what albums I’m in on. I kind of work in to it, you listen to it, like David Bowie and what he was wearing, it does vary and it’s kind of ever expanding, but these are a few of them.”

Last year, Hemmings performed with his band for 24 hours of Reality: Protect Our Planet, Protect Ourselves, a project which brings together activists, scientists, celebrities and performers to explore the climate chnge crisis and its ever-growing impact on the planet. The star is quick to tell me he stands firmly behind the ethos of the event, “I think it’s fantastic. I think as an artist you have a certain responsibility to stand behind the things you feel are important.” he says. Later, he also tells me that music can play an important role in the movement, “You know, we always do a very simple thing like making music, but people love it and it makes people happy and that’s awesome, but we can also use that to promote a great cause and that ticks all the boxes. It was amazing to be a part of that.”

Although only 23, Hemmings has been an influential figure in pop since 2011, stepping into the limelight at 16, telling me, “The first album was a difficult time,” due to his early start in music. However, when asked if he would give himself any advice or change anything from the start of his career, Hemmings insists he has no regrets: “On one hand maybe I would give advice, but I sometimes think that everything happens the way it was supposed to happen. I don’t think I would change anything or give advice. Obviously there are things that were done wrong and things that I could have done better and things that I wouldn’t do a second time around, but I think that’s just how it’s supposed to be. I think it was a very natural way of doing things. It was a fun time, you know. I don’t think that I would go back and make a change.”

Looking towards the future, Hemmings shows an interest in experimenting more with the production side of music, not surprising considering his flair for song writing, “I think I have personally started writing for other people and kind of getting more on the studio side, to guide and collaborate with other artists and stuff like that.” he says. However, the musician assures me that fans don’t have to worry about 5SOS separating anytime soon: “I think for us as a band we’ve been together for 10 years as 5 Seconds of Summer, which has been a while! I think we will have a few special things coming up, our live shows are getting better every time we do them. I think we have a lot coming out and a lot of stuff to do and I think we’re going to be around for a little bit longer. I think this band has always done our best to stay relevant in a pop space but also trying to serve our fans.”

#5sos #luke hemmings

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shadowthrone-ammanas · 4 years

Text

Ghost Kid Chapter Sixteen: Learning

It was a deer, stuck in the swamp but not a part deep enough to fully engulf its head, just up to its chest. It was clearly stuck though, too weak to even fight anymore.

“Can’t we save it instead?” Hat Kid asked looking up at Snatcher hovering over her.

“We could pull it out of the swamp,” he replied, his tone making it clear he wasn’t going to. “But it wouldn’t save it. It’s old and frail and undoubtedly swallowed some swamp water by now. So it’s going to die soon no matter what we do so we might as well use as a learning experience. Normally I would’ve put it out of its misery as soon as I found it but you’re the one who asked me to teach you how to snatch souls, so I figured I’d teach you with this since it should be easy to do.”

“It’s… not an awful death though, is it? Like, I am going to be putting it out of its misery and not making it worse even for a little bit, right?”

“I’m ninety-nine percent sure it’s a painless death, certainly very quick. Now go up to hover in front of it.” He made a small shooing gesture at her. “And hurry up, I don’t have all day.”

Hat Kid did as she was told. It didn’t react to her until she was right up in its face, shifting its eyes towards her and snorting. It didn’t seem to be afraid of her though? She couldn’t tell, hopefully not. She reached out a hand to pet it, hoping to comfort it. Its fur was so soft and warm, alive, unlike her.

“Very good,” Snatcher said. “Now if you focus, you should be able to sense its soul. It’s a dumb animal so its soul is weaker, making it harder to sense than a person’s soul but that also makes it easy to pull out.”

Hat Kid turned her head to give him an angry look. “Don’t call it dumb just because it’s an animal. It’s smart it its own way.”

He frowned, crossing his arms in annoyance. “I meant dumb as in not fully sentient and unable to speak, don’t get offended.”

“Oh well… you could’ve just said that.”

“Whatever, just snatch its soul before it dies because once its dead, unless you grab the soul right as it leaves its body, its useless to you.”

Hat Kid turned back to the deer. She couldn’t really sense anything from it though… No, when she really tried, she could maybe kind of sense something? But it could just be her imagination. This… wasn’t the kind of sense she normally had but… “Uh… I think I sense its soul? Now what?”

“Snatch it. Reaching towards the deer with you hand might help.”

Hat Kid wasn’t sure about this but… she tried anyway; reaching a hand towards the deer with the intent to ‘snatch’ its soul. And… it worked. She felt like she was grabbing something small and weak and pulling it out of something that resisted her but not much. And suddenly had a small glowing soul in her hand, about half the size of the Mafia souls Snatcher had given her had been. The deer of course was still alive, she knew from experience that it was possible to live without a soul, for a time at least.

“Now eat it,” Snatcher said.

Well, she didn’t have much choice, did she? And it would put the poor deer out of its misery so… She shoved it into her mouth.

It was delicious and swallowing it filled her with energy and an overall good feeling. It was noticeably less than the Mafia souls but still a nice feeling. But she’d snatched her first soul, she was well on her way to being a proper scary ghost.

“Very good,” Snatcher said as she turned back to face him. Was that a small amount of pride in his voice or was she just imagining things? “Now, any animal that wonders in, you can have, I don’t really need them.”

She smiled at him. “How generous of you.”

“Don’t get used to it kid, I’m not a generous person.” Lies, he was being all kinds of generous to her despite constantly saying stuff like that. But pointing that out would only annoy him.

“Now uh…” Hat Kid turned back to the deer. It was dead, mercifully but… “Can we bury the poor deer now. I feel bad for it.”

“Don’t, it’s…”

“Please,” she interrupted, turning to face him again and give him her best puppy dog eyes.

He sighed and groaned but… “Fine. We’ll bury the damn deer, give it a funeral if you want, I don’t care.”

“Thank you.”

After burying the deer, a process that Snatcher’s size and powers made quite easy and quick, Hat Kid felt much better about it. She wasn’t going to make a habit out of eating animal souls, only ones that were in situations similar to the deer’s but it wasn’t much different than eating meat, right? It was sustenance, kept her going, gave her a bit more power.

“Can I use magic now?” she asked as they floated away from the grave they’d made by the swamp back towards her ship.

“You can try,” Snatcher replied. “Gesturing makes it easier so do that.”

“What kind of magic can I do though? Same as yours? Or something different? I know your crazy ex has ice magic, I don’t want that because you and Subconites wouldn’t like it.” And the last thing she wanted was to make any of them uncomfortable after how wonderful they were all being to her, especially Snatcher.

“Well, you’re a ghost, so you probably use shadow magic. You’re an alien ghost though so who really knows? Just try using magic and see what happens, if anything.”

“I guess you’re right.” Hat Kid stopped moving, making Snatcher stop too. She glanced around at the forest surrounding them, quite familiar now and in a way comforting. She wanted a specific target, might make it a bit easier. … Ah, that fallen branch should do nicely.

She focused on it and gestured with her hands much like how she’d seen Snatcher do, thinking about one of Snatcher’s blast attack shooting up under it. … Nothing happened. Hmm… She tried again, thinking instead about a blast of magic in general.

A part of her energy drained as a small puff of something came up from underneath her target. It wasn’t much and she wasn’t even sure what she’d done but the branch quivered a bit and even a small bit of bark clinging to it partially splintered. Smiling wide, she turned back to look at Snatcher.

He looked pleased? Proud of her? Something positive for sure that he was trying not to show on his face but failing. “Very good kid,” he said, his tone sarcastic. “You made it shake a little, that’s real impressive.”

“Thank you!” She was proud of herself. She had magic. She’d be blasting things to bits in no time. … Okay, maybe not no time, but certainly eventually she’d be strong and intimidating with her magic.

“Nah kid, don’t get ahead of yourself, I was joking. That was about as impressive as an ant’s fart. You got a long way to go before you can actually do anything real.”

“It’s a start though, right?”

“Eh, I guess. But attack magic is actually one of the harder kinds of magic to do. So perhaps try something a bit less ambitious. Like levitating something, that’s probably the easiest thing to do.” He even demonstrated by levitating the stick she’d tried to destroy, bringing it over to drop it in front of her.

She looked down at it and pointed. As she lifted her finger, she imagined the stick raising too. And it did. … A few inches because she lost focus in her excitement and let it drop.

“Did you see that?” she asked, looking back up at Snatcher.

“Yeah, uh-huh, you lifted it a whole three inches off the ground, wow.” He slow-clapped. “Keep practicing kiddo, maybe you’ll get somewhere in like fifty years.”

Despite his condescending tone Hat Kid smiled up at him because she was pretty sure he was proud of her too. “Is there anything else you can teach me about being a ghost? Like uh… can you teach me how to be scary? The thing you do with your contractors, spooking them and then getting them to do stuff for you, can you teach me how to do that? And when I have enough power to do it can you teach me how to make a pocket dimension and use it to travel? And can you…”

“Whoa kiddo.” Snatcher held up a hand to get her to stop. “That’s enough, I get the idea. You apparently think I’m some kind of teacher or something. Well I ain’t.” He crossed his arms to frown down at her. “I have better things to do then teach you stuff. I had to figure it all out by myself, you can too.”

“But…”

“Don’t give me that look. I’m not falling for it. And it’s not nearly as cute as you seem to think it is so stop trying.”

“I’m just a kid though. And I’ll be super-duper good, I promise. And I’ll leave you alone for hours, maybe even days at a time in between you teaching me stuff. Also, some of the stuff I want to learn, I can’t even do yet, so it’s not like you’re going to be teaching all of it to me all at once. So pretty please with giant cherries on top.” She put her hand together and gave him her best puppy dog eyes again because no matter what he said they’d worked on him before.

He scowled at her, meaning it was working because that’s the look that always came over his face when he got annoyed with himself for letting her convince him to do something. “Fine, but only so you’ll leave me alone about it. But if you complain about anything while I’m teaching you, I’m done, no second chances.”

“I can do that. Thank you.” She hugged him. He groaned but tolerated it. She did let go before he chose not anymore though.

“Now leave me alone for a while, okay? I’m already regretting this decision.”

“Okay. See you later.” She smiled and waved at him as he vanished.

Feeling good from eating the soul, though a bit tired from experimenting with her newfound power, she started heading back towards her ship again. She was excited though, happy. For weeks after she’d died, she never thought she would be again. But here she was, happy and well on her way to being a proper spooky ghost.

She was just entering the clearing her ship was in when Moonjumper appeared before her again. He was smiling evilly too. … Hat Kid wasn’t going to let him ruin her good mood though.

“Peck off,” she said as he opened his mouth to say something. “I don’t want to talk to you, you’re a peck neck. So peck off.”

Moonjumper chuckled. “For one so young, you have an awfully foul mouth. I do not believe that is something your father taught you, he’s not much of a swearer, never was.”

Hat Kid lifted a hand to flip him off. That gesture probably wasn’t rude here but she didn’t care, the way she was using it should make clear her intentions with it. “I don’t want to talk to you. I have magic to practice with.” She moved on, floating past him.

“Very well, if you insist, I shall be on my way. Congrats on convincing your father to teach you how to properly rule the forest alongside him.”

She ignored him as she went into her ship. He was just trying to cause chaos so she wasn’t having it.

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#My writing #ahit #A Hat In Time #Ghost Kid #ghost kid fic #snatcher & hat kid #Dadcher #Mentions of animal death #soul eating

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oliveheart-worldbuilding · 3 years

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Aster, Bee Balm, Daffodil, Dahlia, Laurel, Petunia, Rose, and Violet? I'd also add Gardenia but it's impossible to escape murder cats.

Hi there! Thank you so much for the ask! Once again, I’m sorry for taking so long to answer!

Adding a read more because this one is pretty long.

Aster- Who’s your least favorite character? Why?

This one is a bit difficult for me, I read many of the books a long time ago and I’m sure if I were to read them again my opinion on a lot of characters would be very different. Going only by memory I would say that Bluestar is one of my least favorite characters but then I would have to add many female characters that I now feel were completely mistreated by the authors and whose entire arcs where thrown under the bus in the name of forbidden love or man pain. I never liked Silverstream, but nowadays I know that whom I actually hate is Graystripe. I used to not like Leafpool or Squirrelflight at all, now I don’t. What I’m trying to say is that my opinion changes constantly and a lot. I read the books a long time ago and did so with a completely different mindset (I was 16 when I read Omen of the Stars and oh man was I edgy and stupid back then), most of my opinions nowadays are based on the potential the characters have rather than the actual character. So bearing that in mind:

-Bluestar: I know, I know, a lot of you love her a lot but even after reading people’s opinions on her I just… eh I don’t like her at all. She feels incredibly detached in the first books. To me she always treated Firepaw rather coldly. I know a lot of people talk about Bluestar as if she had become Firepaw’s adoptive mother but I just don’t see it. Reading about her losing her faith was very interesting, so was her crumping mind health but, I just gotta draw the line on how terrible she was to Brightpaw. In this house we love and respect Brightpaw and Bluestar was just very nasty to her. I really didn’t like her novella at all either. Based on her relationship with Whitestorm in The Prophecies Begin I always thought that she might have played an important role in his life after Snowfur died but, it doesn’t seem that way at all? The only moment we see them interact is when she tells Whitekit, in a very distressing way may I add, that her mother is dead and never coming back. To me, she also comes in as selfish and power-hungry, she spends a huge part of the book complaining about Thistleclaw (bear in mind, back then he was only overly ambitious, not a pedophile) and his relationship with her sister, even though she herself is spending time with Oakheart, a tom from another clan. When Goosefeather tells her about the prophecy he never specifies that she must be the one becoming leader, only that Thistleclaw is not meant to become one and yet she goes out of her way to become the leader so much so that she’s willing to risk her kittens’ safety (killing one in the process) just so she can be available for the position. She could have just uuuuhmmmm told Sunstar about the prophecy? Also I’m pretty sure Sunstar assures her that Thistleclaw would not have made a good leader multiple times so… he could have chosen literally anyone else? Rosetail? Thrustpelt? Don’t get me started on the whole Tigerkit dilemma! She chooses to believe Goosefeather prophecies when they strengthen her own personal bias but when she’s told about Tigerkit’s she just goes “aw man Goosefeather sure is crazy hahaha anyway back on me becoming leader”. I don’t know, there’s more to it but this is getting pretty long. Personally she’s just not my favorite.

-Graystripe: He’s a terrible friend, he treats Fireheart like absolute garbage, he chooses a molly he has known for exactly 2 days over his best friend and his entire clan, he leaves Thunderclan to spend more time with his kittens just to abandon them 5 seconds later, and yet the son of a bitch was somehow always meant to become deputy to Firestar??? Just because they are friends??? Dude went against the warrior code, endangered his clan by refusing to fight Riverclan, was incredible close to causing an all-out war with Riverclan, abandoned his clan, refused to see what was wrong about his behavior just because he was in love… How in the f is he a good warrior??? Erins I want answers; this man is garbage. When he gets captured by the humans and comes back to the lake he gets so SO mad at Firestar for not “waiting for him”, my dude you were gone for seasons, you were deputy, you really expect the entire clan to stop working so that you can keep your friendship bracelet position? Everybody thought you were dead Graystripe!! Was everyone supposed to keep vigil forever?? He’s also a terrible father to both his litters, his reaction to being told that Feathertail’s dead is “aw man… she was so beautiful… like her mom…” that’s terribleeee. At some point in Omen of the Stars, after Briarlight broke her spine, Millie complains about Graystripe not helping her at all and then they start fighting about it, Graystripe’s only answer is something along the lines of “yeah whatever dude”. I hate him so much. I stopped reading after The Last Hope, so I can’t talk about the rest but, I’ve seen some parts of Graystripe’s Vows and let me tell I want this man gone for good. He’s lived for too long.

-Lionblaze: He’s the most flavorless character in the history of flavorless characters. What’s his arc? That’s right. He doesn’t have one. I literally have nothing to say about him. How is this character alive and in his way to become leader when Hollyleaf could have been in his place? Disgusting. Also, dreaming about killing your girlfriend and bathing in her blood? Bad. Not showing not even a bit of remorse about after waking up? Terrible. Badly hurting her mentor when you were trying harm her? Just straight up fucked up. He’s badly written, boring and kind of very misogynist at times.

I have many other opinions because I’m a very judgmental person but I’m gonna leave it at that because this is getting very long.

Bee Balm- What’s your favorite novella or super edition?

I’ve only read three! So Crockedstar’s promise I guess.

Daffodil- When did you first start reading the books?

In the summer of 6th grade, that’s when I was… 11-12 years old? I think? So in 2012-2013, I started reading them in Spanish but I read through them super-fast and the translations were super slow to come out so I just started reading the books in English. It actually helped my English level quite a bit! My first English book was The Forest of Secrets I think.

Dahlia- Has any death scene actually made you cry? What was it?

Snowfur’s (Reading about Whitekit screaming at her mother to wake up was super messed up), Yellowfang’s (I loved that old woman. I wish they hadn’t written about her in Starclan, she’s so out of character in later books) and Hollyleaf’s death (yes, first and second time, young me loved her to pieces. I still can’t believe they let her die a second time when Lionblaze’s flavorless ass was right there…).

Laurel- If you could write the books, what changes would you make?

I would contemplate the idea of just, moving forward in time? The warriors’ series feels very stagnant. Young characters die while having no personality at all and older characters from the first series are still alive and very much immortal at this point. We need new fresh blood.

I would just set up a completely new series: maybe the stories of Firestar and his family have been immortalized, maybe they are now revered as gods or something, I would create an actual religion system, one based in nature, the death and rebirth of all things and the need to remember those who have fallen. I would change their entire culture so that elders are more important; medicine cats are not regarded as useless (I’m looking at every character that forced in this position instead of choosing it themselves) and the warrior code actually makes sense.

The setting of this new series would be the lake territories but a long time has passed since the time of Firestar and things have changed a lot. A kittypet joins the clans and through their perspective we see how they work and act, what makes every single one of them different, their culture and laws, etc. It would be a nod to the first series while being completely new. It would also allow to add new characters from the start so they all have personalities and relationships with each other.

I would also contemplate creating one last series set up in the time of the original clans where everything just goes to hell. You guys remember rabies? I want that + Starclan going crazy. A full out massacre of old characters that ends in only a few surviving ones. I want blood, and I want it to be scary. If children can read about Tigerclaw’s horrible death, then they can read what in my opinion would be a zombie/ghost apocalypse. And then I would start anew with this completely new series set up in the future.

I mean, I would rewrite a looooooot of things, but that’s a talk for another day.

Petunia- Which arc is your favorite? Which is your last favorite?

My favorite is The Prophecies Begin when it comes to the plot and the Power of Three when it comes to characters. My least favorite is the New Prophecy.

Rose- Do you prefer traditional naming or creative naming?

Traditional all the way! I like when things have meaning and each name having its own really helps the feeling of there being a pre-established culture! Creative naming just doesn’t make a lot of sense to me in this context but that’s just my personal taste.

Violet- What do you think is the worst trope in the series?

Already answered!

Gardenia- Do you think you’ll ever leave the fandom?

Probs not, I’m in too deep, warriors is always at the back of my mind...

#warriors #warrior cats #Erin Hunter #i speak #ask

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bekahdoesnerdshit · 4 years

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cog! indifference because I feel like that’s not a very cog thing she tends to feel. also: disgust! enthusiasm! raini: panic! mischief! ............ lust??? for auriga: frustration... excitement... boredom! ayen: anxiety, confusion!

Already answered disgust and enthusiasm for Cog, and mischief for Raini! Great minds, great minds, the group chat shares one braincell, etc. etc.

Cog

Indifference: I think Cog struggles to process and express a lot of negative emotions, because she’s made such a conscious choice to repress put them out of her mind in pursuit of positivity. But she can get angry! She can get snippy because she’s stressed and hasn’t slept enough! But even then, even though the emotion is negative, at least she’s feeling and doing something. She’s taking a stand! She’s acting in defense of something she believes in! Indifference, though? It’s passive, it’s an inaction, it’s giving up. She has a bleeding heart, she isn’t capable of just turning that off and deciding she doesn’t care. If Cog gets to the point of indifference, it’s because she’s physically and emotionally exhausted. There’s too many morally gray choices she’s being forced to make, and there’s never a “right” answer, and everything she does hurts someone who doesn’t deserve it. Cog’s indifference is head down, shoulders hunched, tired eyes and still, folded hands. It’s pulling back from the conversation around her and letting the rest of the party decide the right course of action instead of weighing in and trying to steer them toward a more morally upstanding decision. She’s tired, and there’s no time to rest, and there’s no objective “good” to push toward. What does it matter what decision they make in the face of that?

Raini

Panic: Flighty! If I had to pick one word- which I do not because as yesterday’s ask proved I have never in my life heard of “brevity”- panicked Raini is flighty. Whether that just means skittish in the moment, moving quickly from spot to spot as things Spook her, or if that means leaving the situation entirely with a Dimension Door or Teleport, she is not going to stay in one place very long at all. Her movements when she talks get a lot more jerky and abrupt, and she loses most of her intentionally cultivated air of aloofness evaporates. I don’t think it comes to this very often! I think it takes a lot to rattle Raini to the point of panic. But, you know, again. Sometimes you kill the goddess of magic, or whatever. Sometimes you’re staring down the barrel of an attack you know you won’t survive, and you have enough time to whip around to face your party with wide eyes before the blade of a sword that’s nearly as long as you are tall sinks home in your stomach, and you have just a second to panic because. What if this is the end? Are the others going to try to help you? Why would they? They don’t have to! I think, of just about every emotion, panic is the one Raini hates the most. You’re helpless, it means you’ve lost your head, and you’re just grossly out of control of the situation. Pass! Hard fucking pass!!! Lust: You just want to know how she acts when Ecstasy is visiting and that’s Fair but you have to own it. Raini who’s trying to Get some is honestly like. Essentially unrecognizable. Y’all know that “oh, with the horns!! you’re so funny!” text post? But like, for real. And maybe 40% sarcastic? She’s SO more touchy than she usually is, especially on the bicep or upper thigh if they’re sitting down. Lots of lip biting, lots of stolen glances through eyelashes, and honestly? I think she’s very much the type of person to just circle while she flirts. We’re playing coy a little, but we’re also moving a little closer on each pass, so read into that what you will. Also! It’s definitely a competition to her, in a weird way? Like she’s super pale, so any amount of blushing shows up super clearly, but she will Not acknowledge it because that is losing. Somehow. Even though we all know how the night ends anyway. And while there are no losers when it comes to having sex with someone who is very hot very sensual very sexy, Raini does Not generally get to maintain her pride to the extent she would like to those nights. Is that too much information? Maybe so! But you asked, So! (Also again I Know this is non-verbal BUT such a big part of Raini flirting is banter. What’s the point of spending time on someone who already can’t keep up with you outside the bedroom?)

Auriga

Frustration: I think, in an incredibly ambitious and unprecedented move, I have finally created a character who is a wellspring of patience. He’s an elf, a cleric, a ruler, and a middle child. Technically. He has a fuse, because everybody does, but it’s probably literally about a mile long. But like, as a result? When it’s done, he’s done. He finally gets fed up trying to explain something to someone? Well, that’s it. His expression is still placid and pleasant, because he was Raised Well, but he’s written them off entirely. Too stupid to make understand, to slow to bother with. He’s had too much of a frustrating situation? It’s hopeless. There’s nothing to be done about it. Someone else is going to have to take care of it. He pulls back entirely behind manners and decorum, smiles politely but coldly, and excuses himself from the situation as soon as is respectable. Excitement: Aww this was so sweet to think about. Generally, Auriga is a pretty reserved person! The centuries of High Expectations (and a seven charisma) will do that to you! Can’t put your foot in your mouth if you don’t open it in the first place! But when he’s excited, he lights up. You get a real, not practiced smile, and soft touches on your forearm or shoulder. Still respectable!! But small, fleeting moments of intimacy, urging the other person to be as excited as he is about what is, in fairness, probably some pretty lame shit. I think he’s also very likely to default to drawing pictures to explain whatever he’s talking about so that the other person can see exactly what he means. Someone who engages and asks the right questions can absolutely get him to talk for hours about a given topic, when before that they may have heard barely a handful of words from him. Boredom: I’m making this character choice now and I may come to regret it when we start to actually play but I don’t care: Auriga’s default when he’s bored is to start to doze off. Like, has he had a lot of practice sitting in council meetings for long hours, debating circles around the same topic without making much, if any, progress? Sure! But that’s, bless him, something he finds interesting. Somehow. If it’s something he has absolutely zero interest in though (like, for example, a stuffy, boring play he’s obligated to attend out of professional courtesy? hypothetically) I think he’ll try to focus for a while? Because he was raised right, he has manners. But eventually his chin finds its way to his palm, and his eyes start to droop, and idk if mechanically elves can sleep and just don’t or if he’s just trancing in the middle of a public place (which I guess would be less conspicuous, technically?) but our boy is No Longer Paying Attention.

Ayen

Anxiety: Anxious Ayen is fidgety. Bounce the leg! Continually summon and dismiss various small hexblade weapons! Open your hand, close it around the handle of a dagger. Open it agin and let the dagger disappear in a puff of smoke, close it again around a weird crooked sickle. Open your hand and let the sickle disappear, close it again around-- And so on, and so forth. I think she gets worked up really easily when she’s anxious, gets kinda jumpy, and is definitely ready to shoot off at a moment’s notice to go do whatever there is to do that will get rid of or distract from her anxiety. (Also I know the original prompt was ‘non-verbal’ but it’s important to me that you know that she for sure talks to herself when she’s anxious, like. “Okay Ayen, you got this. We have no clue what the Fuck is going on, but we’re gonna pull it together and take it the fuck out. Alright? Alright.”) Confusion: Ayen is that classmate you sit next to in like some fuckoff high level math class, and the professor is talking and you realize you have No idea what they’re talking about? And you look over at Ayen to see if she can clarify anything, and she’s already writing “bro idfk” on the corner of her notes for you to read. If Ayen’s confused she’s gonna default to thinking it’s funny, because like. Can’t look stupid if you’ve decided the stuff you don’t understand is stupid first! So she’ll laugh, and shrug real big, and make a show of not caring what’s going on, because that saves face. That’s dumbshit nerd stuff, she is Way too cool for that.

#cog #wasteland campaign #rainivere #amnesia campaign #ayen morwraek #creepy campaign #the camplane #celebreultimaverba #His Royal Highness‚ Auriga the Silvertouched‚ Prince of the Feywild‚ Third Heir of the Stars‚ The Twice Reborn‚ Conservator of Stories‚ The #also tbh all my Auriga shit should come with an asterisk because. bro all this stuff is theoretical until i play him for a Hot minute #idk about you guys I Cannot fill out the personality part of character sheets until three or four good sessions in #so we'll see if any of this sticks!!!

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glassworkspiderlilies · 5 years

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giyushino week wrap up!

aaaaand that’s a wrap!! thank you to the moderators of giyushinoweek, and to everyone who liked/reblogged/commented on/sent me asks about my fics!!

it was a wild ride to write 8 fics in basically a week or so; i keep saying the fics were hastily or frantically written but LMAO considering how little fic i put out nowadays and how long it usually takes me to write because i edit as i go (which means i take f o r e v e r ), i was seriously just screaming like I JUST GOTTA DO IT I JUST GOTTA GO WITH IT I DON’T HAVE TIME the entire time haha. it was really good to be able to just think of a thing and run as far as i could with it, though!! it’s been quite a long time since i was able to do that, and it was really nice to have a project to work on in the back of my head. <3

ideally, if i work myself up to it, i’d like to revisit all of these and spruce them up to post to ao3, but we’ll see. :’)

under the cut is just some thoughts on my process during this and also writing each of the fics, if you’re interested! favorite prompt, the most difficult parts to write, what the fic was originally was, things like that.

thank you again, everyone!! back to hibernation and occasional slow snail pace writing i go, haha.

re: writing process -i tried writing a fic per day during the week before the actual event, which...kind of worked!! ideally, i was going to write a mostly complete fic each day, and then spend the week of the event editing each one before i posted it. what really ended up happening was that i partially wrote several, but not all of them, during the previous week, and then spent the week of finishing up, editing, or writing the whole thing more or less the day before the prompt was “due”, LMFAO. my weekday schedule is pretty structured because of work--I have maybe an hour or two of free time before i have to sleep--so i doubled down a bit more on the weekends. i know like it wasn’t imperative that i meet the “deadline”, but i really, really wanted to!! i figured i’ve written a fic per day for fandom weeks before so why can’t i do it again, but BOY i don’t know who i was back then. i mean, i still did it (yay!) but it seemed so much easier then?? either i was just writing more back then or less afraid or...something, or it’s just been so long that i don’t remember what i felt, LOL.

-i was really quite nervous in the beginning to post the fics, since again, they’re pretty hastily written and my usual writing process is much more “careful” and drawn out. but, it was also freeing as the week went on to just post and not worry, because the point of the week was to have fun, and not necessarily to write the best work i expected of myself within a limited time. (oh, how the perfectionist in me still hisses, though.) still, i’m glad people liked them, and even the extra notes that i just kinda spit out for some of them. :’) i do wish that some had gotten more attention than others, but those ones don’t show up in the tags and i’m not sure why, so. alas.

re: the fics -confession: as of now, i feel pretty neutral about all of them, since i wrote them in a frenzy. at some point i’ll probably go back and read them and feel differently (and catch my mistakes! oh no!), haha. -a lot of them ended up being AU, which is...??? unexpected?? but i think it was just easier to put them in an entirely different setting, so i could play a bit more loose with their characters, haha.

day 1 - glance (or hug) -this one...im pretty sure was one of the ones i waited until the last possible minute to finish up. it’s pretty basic event-wise, one of the few more regular slice-of-lifey ones for the week. it was surprisingly hard to get down the “movement” of it all; a glance is hard to describe in detail and in any other way, but i had really wanted to create kind of this...fleeting, almost nostalgic atmosphere in the back and forth of “he keeps looking, she keeps missing”, if that makes any sense. oof, it’s still hard to describe what i had wanted to achieve even outside of the fic!!

day 2 - soulmate (or family) -this one was SUPER HARD to write!!! originally i had wanted to go with a “A sees flashes of what B sees” soulmate prompt, because i figured that would be SO disorienting and would be fun to play with. but i ended up not being able to run with that one. i had also wanted to do the “soulmates write on themselves and the words show up on the other’s arm” idea, based off of what i had started in a 100 word drabble i did, but that deserved wayyyyyy more exploration and angst i was able to write in the time i’d allotted. i do like the “tattoo” soulmate aus the best, i think, and i did want to explore the one i did more, buuuut. alas. soulmates aus are something i prefer to read rather than write, i think, they can get so complicated!!

day 3 - AU (or touch) -i’ve already made enough notes on this haha, but this ended up being a little too ambitious!! it wasn’t originally supposed to stop where it did, but i just...kinda got stuck and couldn’t bring myself to continue it, because i knew it would just keep going and needed more thinking out. so i just stopped it at the scene break, and hoped it would be decent enough. :’) surprisingly people seemed to enjoy this one most of all????? or maybe it was just the au itself that was a appealing, haha. regardless, i was surprised at the amount of notes this got!

day 4 - demon & wedding -soooooo this might’ve been my favorite prompt LMAO, like when i realized what i wanted to do for this day, i got excited because like, oooh yeah, pain. definitely wanted to go in on this to flesh out and explore various aspects more than i did, but i think of all the ones i wrote, i might be the most pleased with this one so far.

day 5 - moon (or angst) -honestly, it’s a surprise i didn’t choose angst for day 5. writing about shinobu’s death would’ve been so easy, but i’ve seriously been putting it off since i started writing for kimetsu no yaiba. both “a blade of honey” and “if not cut at dusk”, which are my longer fics, were intended to be about shinobu’s death scene and turned into something completely different, and i ended up avoiding it for day 5 even though it could’ve been so easy. it’s denial, probably! anyway, shinobu’s MAD BOLD here. she would never. maybe. there’s two shinobus that i think about--the "usual” one, modeling herself after kanae, and one who’s more in line with her younger self/inner feelings. i think i went with the latter for a lot of these fics, because i didn’t have to be as careful with dialogue. giyu might’ve suffered character-wise, though, woops. but again, maybe shinobu would, in the vein that she wants to win and have the last laugh, haha. still, i feel more like she wouldn’t. :P oh, also, do you remember ages ago, when AMVs were still widespread, that scene that was everywhere in naruto where hinata’s bathing/training at the waterfall and it’s like really pretty and cool and stuff? yeah. that’s what i wanted this one to be, a little, LMFAO. genuinely surprised that people thought this one was pretty spicy!!

day 6 - kiss (or ocean) -confession: i wrote all of this while i was at work LOLLLL. it was a slow day, i promise. this might’ve been the easiest one to come up with, because the “quick, kiss me!” to escape situation is a classic. the characterization is preeeetttyyyyy loose here, but it was also kind of fun, honestly. my day 5 and day 6 run in pretty similar veins though, so i had kind of wished the endings were a bit more distinct from each other.

day 7 - date (or crossover) -honestly i had wanted to do like, a soul eater crossover!! really i was planning out an au, but i think a crossover specifically has characters of two series interacting, and then i was Tired and was like, i can’t do that. crossovers aren’t something i usually read, either, so the planning got too complicated and i gave up. the date idea was also one that came much later and one that i finished up last minute; i’d wanted to make it a little more cohesive and come up with better things for sabito’s list, but. eh. it got longer than i expected too! ideally there would’ve been more of the college life, and sabito and makomo. i thought about doing another additional notes for this, but there was wasn’t enough i had wanted to add on. really it was just the majors for them i’d been playing with--shinobu as a med student (possibly a minor in horticulture/botany, SOMEHOW), sabito & giyu as hydraulic engineering majors (sabito more on fieldwork, giyu more on research), and makomo as a marine veterinary student. shrug!! the lines of “you do realize we were set up, right” and “this was a date, tomioka-san” were the highlight for me, haha. and i’m inordinately fond of the title.

day 8 - halloween (or n*sfw) -sexy stuff isn’t my forte at all!!!! so halloween it was, but. i was thinking of skipping out on this one, and then was like, oh what the hell, you’ve come this far, of course you’re going to go the last leg, too. already wrote enough notes on this one too, but yeah, this one really was quick, and just barely meets the prompt, i think, lmao. ended up being more of a fantasy au, which was fun, though there was a lot left unexplored. ultimately just glad that i was able to come up with something for the last stretch. :)

please feel free to drop me an ask if you have any thoughts or comments! i’d love to hear your thoughts on the fics for the week, if you’d like to share. :)

thanks for reading!!

#author's notes #giyushinoweek #thank you!!#spitting out more notes without proofreading ayyyy

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the-coldest-goodbye · 5 years

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Hvitserk (Vikings) x plus size reader headcanons

Hvitserk x plus size fem!reader

A/N: This is my first time writing Hvitserk, so sorry if parts of it feel OOC. This one is a bit smuttier than my other posts because I feel like Hvitserk has sliiiightly less emotional baggage to unpack compared to some other characters. I’m not the happiest with how this one turned out, but oh well.

► Hvitserk loves a woman who can eat!! (Bonus points if you’re a good cook too because this boy is constantly hungry.)

► His favorite things in life are food, alcohol, and sex, so, uhhh, yeah, those are pretty high up on his list of requirements in a partner.

► Hvitty is actually a bit of a chubby chaser, to be honest.

► I mean, he’s a horny bastard, and when he’s single he will sleep with absolutely any willing woman because he just loves the act of sex itself, but he definitely has a thing for plus size ladies and will go out of his way to woo them.

► At first, his brothers (mainly Ivar) would tease him a lot for pursuing women who didn’t fit the mold of what they think a woman should look like, but Hvitserk never got embarrassed and never denied it or tried to hide it. It wasn’t something to be ashamed or embarrassed about. Eventually it just became normal to his brothers and it was no longer fun to tease him about it because it just didn’t get a rise out of Hvitserk.

► You were surprised when Hvitserk started flirting with you out of the blue because you weren’t used to getting that type of attention from men very often. Plus, he wasn’t being very coy about it. Things quickly turned suggestive, and he was pretty forward about wanting to bed you.

► Initially you kind of blew him off and turned down his advances because you were afraid it was a joke or he was trying to sleep with you as a dare or experiment, because why would a son of Ragnar want you when he could have anyone? But he kept coming back and flirting with you more, which made you consider that maybe this wasn’t just some sort of joke or dare. He was so charming and funny that eventually you found yourself looking forward to his visits, and eventually you were flirting right back.

► It wasn’t until the two of you were actually in bed together that you were sure it wasn’t a joke. He was honest to goodness super turned on by you and so enthusiastic about exploring your body.

► He’s never shy or embarrassed to be seen flirting, acting dirty, or showing PDA with you in public. He doesn’t care what other people think. He’s just totally into you and wants to get his rocks off (and yours as well).

► So much PDA, holy shit. It ranges from cutesy stuff like hand-holding or wrapping his arm around your waist to dirtier stuff, like “I’m very horny and a little drunk, come over here and rub me through my pants while I grope your ass.”

► Hvitserk loves slow, lazy sex that lasts for ages, but also passionate, rough sex, marathon sex, quickies… any sex, really. All sex. It’s all good to him and he’s down for anything you could possibly want.

► Hips, ass, ‘n’ thigh guy. Constantly groping and spanking you. Loves when a woman is thick and juicy. He’s also turned on by your soft tummy.

► When he’s feeling more relaxed and wants slower, lazier sex, he would love for you to be on top — partly because he’s a lazy bastard and it makes you do most of the work, but mainly because he loves laying back and watching your body jiggle as you ride him.

► When he’s absolutely ravenous, he also adores having you on your back with your legs resting on his shoulders as he pounds into you. He often loves going rough and fast, and he feels like he can really fuck you at a good angle in this position, making you feel full with him as he hits your G-spot, making you cry out in pleasure.

► Hvitserk loves sex in general, but he particularly has a thing for oral, both giving and receiving. To him, there’s nothing hotter than seeing your head bob up and down his throbbing cock, your sweet lips sealed around his shaft. He would love blowing his load all over your face or in your mouth. He especially loves when you swallow his cum and then open your mouth to prove that you swallowed it all.

► He wants to lay back and let you sit on his face while he enthusiastically eats you out. If he died by being smothered by your thighs, well, he couldn’t imagine a better way to go. But he also loves eating you out with you laying on your back since you bury your fingers in his hair and he loves the feeling of your nails on his scalp.

► Hvitserk isn't possessive or controlling, and he wouldn’t be constantly watching everything you do. He would make sure you’re not in an overly dangerous situation and will of course keep you safe, but he trusts that you can handle yourself in most cases. If you ever do need his help, though, he’s there.

► Similarly, he generally isn’t the jealous type. He would actually be kind of turned on if other men flirted with you or looked at you and he’d be very smug about it, knowing that his lady is smokin’ hot.

► However, he absolutely wouldn’t tolerate anyone being rude to you or saying nasty things about you, especially about your appearance. He would threaten whoever hurt you and then would make sure you’re okay. That night, when it’s the two of you alone in his room, he would hold you in his arms and gently run his fingers over your body, talking about how much he adores every part of you and how he finds each and every part of you beautiful.

► To Hvitserk, happiness is the feeling of being stuffed after a huge meal and cuddling into your soft body.

► He cuddles with you throughout the entire night as you sleep because you’re warm and soft and he ain’t letting go.

► He’s very versatile with the cuddling. Big spoon? Little spoon? Who cares! Just cuddle!

► He’s sassy as fuck and lives for banter, so he loves that you can keep up and fire the sass right back at him.

► Hvitserk is very handsy and is always touching you in some way.

► He’s playful and cocky, and that translates into his love and sex life with lots of teasing and playing games.

► He loves teasing you, always whispering dirty things in your ear or caressing your thighs as you sit next to him at the dinner table. He gets floored when you tease him, particularly when you get him all hot and bothered but then pull back, leaving him out to dry. He can’t wait to get back at you and make you pay for that later by edging the living daylights out of you and denying you from orgasming until you apologize and beg him for release.

► Although you two started off with a friends-with-benefits arrangement, both of you eventually realized you were developing feelings for each other, especially the more you got to really know each other.

► To be honest, Hvitty would be a little difficult to tie down into a relationship just because he’s a kind of Dionysus-type character where he loves pleasure and excess. He would be afraid that settling down into a committed relationship would put an end to his fun, until he realized that he could have just as much fun with you.

► I do think he’d settle down eventually, especially once he realized that all of his needs were met by you, and more. The sex is fire, your personalities jive well, it doesn’t feel like he’s “tied down” like he assumed settling down with someone would. Now he’s just having fun with someone he adores. (Also, he found out that you’re a really fantastic cook and, holy shit, he wants to make sure he has that in his life for good.)

► Although he’s generally pretty lighthearted and even-keeled, he does have a darker side to him where he becomes a little brooding and withdrawn. He only reveals this side of himself once the two of you get closer because he feels comfortable enough to share it with you. Despite him seeming like he isn’t phased by much, he has a lot weighing heavily on him. He struggles to process his dysfunctional childhood, from living in a home with constant fighting between his younger brothers, a mother who was emotionally checked out, and a father who had abandoned their entire family (and all of Kattegat) without a word. He also finds himself stressed out about the future, wondering what will happen with him, his brothers, and Kattegat. This is a level of vulnerability that he normally wouldn’t share with anybody, so you felt honored that he would reveal these worries to you.

► Seeing how understanding and nonjudgmental you were when he talked about these things made Hvitserk feel even more bonded to you. You were more than just someone to warm his bed. You were truly a confidant and partner, someone he trusted above all others.

► He would fall in love with you and couldn’t imagine having as much fun with anyone else, or being as vulnerable and open with anyone else, and suddenly his eyes were only for you. His brothers would know that how Hvitty feels is really serious because it was so unlike him to just stop pursuing a bunch of different women and devote himself to one.

► When he confessed his love for you, like genuine love and not just lust, you knew it was serious because he was acting much less playful than he normally would. He would explain to you about how he has never found a better match for him than you and how he felt like he could genuinely be himself around you.

► He’s admittedly not the most ambitious of the Ragnarssons. He’s not particularly set on becoming king or anything because doesn’t want to deal with the responsibilities and work that come with a position like that. He mainly just wants to be able to slide by doing what’s expected of him and so he can then spend the rest of his time being a man of pleasure and indulgence. Being the son of Ragnar puts him in a pretty secure position where he won’t really ever have to go without anything, and he knows that he will be able to provide for you because of it. He wants the two of you to be able to have a life of leisure, enjoying each other’s company and indulging in the finer things in life. He couldn’t imagine a person he’d rather have fun for the rest of his life with than you.

Tagged: @alicedopey

Let me know if you want to be tagged for certain fandoms or characters so you’ll be notified when I make a new post!

#Vikings #Hvitserk #Hvitserk Ragnarsson #Hvitserk Lothbrok #Hvitserk x reader #Hvitserk Ragnarsson x reader #Hvitserk Lothbrok x reader #Hvitserk headcanons #Hvitserk Ragnarsson headcanons #Hvitserk Lothbrok headcanons #historyvikings #vikingshistory #Vikings headcanons

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ifuckinglovestvincent · 5 years

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BILLBOARD: St. Vincent On Her Reworked 'MassEducation' LP & Her 2019 Plans: 'The Best Thing I'm Going to Do Is the Next Thing

12/17/2018 by Lyndsey Havens

[Photo: Shervin Lainez]

She tells Billboard about her personal highlights from 2018

As 2018 winds down, Billboard is asking some of the artists who helped define the year in music to look back on their accomplishments, their favorite memories and their pop-culture obsessions from the past 12 months. First up: St. Vincent.

St. Vincent is never satisfied. It’s why, she says, she is always creating in one way or another: She picked up DJing in June and spun her first live set by September; reimagined her 2017 knockout MASSEDUCTION as a stripped down, piano-driven album called MassEducation this October; started producing for other artists as a part of some as-yet-unannounced collaborations; and is gearing up for her feature-length directorial debut, in which she’ll bring a woman-led version of Oscar Wilde’s The Portrait of Dorian Gray to the screen.

“The best thing I’m going to do is the next thing I do,” she tells Billboard, just a few days before she picked up two Grammy nominations for MASSEDUCTION (the album's art director, Willo Perron, also got a nod for best recording package.) But while she has a few more plans on the books for 2019 -- including a Feb. 14 performance at Lincoln Center as part of its American Songbook series -- what that next, best thing will be in her own music is open-ended. “You know when you hear it,” she says. “When a ghost walks through the room or when you sing a certain line and it makes you all weepy. That’s when you know that something is special.”

Below, she talks about reworking her songs for MassEducation, the hits and misses of Auto-tune and why she's taking a break from social media.

“Slow Disco” now exists in three different forms: the original on MASSEDUCTION, a made-to-dance version called “Fast Slow Disco” and now a stripped-down take on MassEducation. Why is it important to show that your songs can have many lives?

I felt like that particular song wasn’t done telling its story in just the one version that existed [on MASSEDUCTION]. And to me, that’s a testament to songwriting. Like, “Can this song be stripped back to nothing and still be powerful?” I spent so much time really working on the songcraft of this album that I just wanted to live in [the songs], totally stripped bare. Recording in that way actually made me feel more free. We recorded it live over the course of a couple days, and we didn’t do very many takes of anything. We didn’t even talk about what we were going to do or how we were going to do it, so you’re actually hearing us discover the songs in real time. What happens oftentimes for me is I write guitar parts that are complicated and then vocal melodies that can be complicated, so my brain live is doing complex processing. But it’s such a joy to just sing. I just got to really live in the words and live in the space and take my time and live in the silence. That, to me, is really freeing and gratifying and gets to my heart.

You’ve taken up DJing recently. What has that taught you about reinventing a song?

I love DJing, because it keeps me voraciously looking for new music, going back to things that I love and trying to make connections between songs. Sometimes those connections are as simple as, “Okay, the BPM and vibe of this are in a similar place, this could be an interesting transition.’ And sometimes the things that the songs have in common can be really hilariously, lyrically thematic. I get to test my genealogy and go from Herbie Hancock into Tribe Called Quest into Kendrick [Lamar] or something -- tracing lines between music from totally different eras. I love it. I get to discover music and listen in a way that is just total pleasure and enjoyment and inspiration.

You’ve also started producing for other artists. What surprised you the most about that process?

Producing takes the preciousness out of music-making, and you can see the big picture because you’re not in any way blinded by your own fear or ego -- that thing that you run into when you’re doing something really personal, like singing or playing guitar. I can hear the bird’s-eye view of what something could be without having to perform it at all. So that’s great. I love the tech side of it, too. I love sitting and trying to get great sounds for hours, and I love trying different things and reaching and building and playing with space. Also, one thing I definitely have learned is to never ever settle. Never settle for what kind of artist you think someone is, never underestimate anybody. Always be listening, and push it.

What’s a musical trend you’d like to see go away in 2019?

Sometimes I find Auto-Tune really evocative, and then sometimes I find it really not evocative. But it’s all in the hands of the artist. I think that we’re going to see less trap beats in 2019. They are really cool, don’t get me wrong, but it seems like it’s reached max saturation.

What artist would you want to invite to a holiday dinner with your family?

This is going to sound braggy, but one of my favorite compliments that I ever got was from an artist who said: “So many things are pointless, and you’re not.” That was the biggest compliment I think I’ve ever gotten. But I don’t want to be gross and say who that was, so… who would I invite to dinner? Is this one of those ones where you’re supposed to say Jesus? I would love to invite Kerry James Marshall. I’ve never met him. I really loved his exhibition last year, it was just beautiful.

What’s the best performance you saw this year?

Nine Inch Nails.

What’s one song you could not get out of your head this year?

Currently, the 1975’s “Love It If We Made It” -- I like that they’re pushing. It’s ambitious and has so much heart to it. I really have enjoyed their new album.

What’s your favorite city that you visited this year?

I had a really great time in Guadalajara -- let’s give Mexico some love. I was on tour, I’d never been. I was there in October, but my brother-in-law is a chef, so he came and we just ate all the tacos and tried all the food. It was great.

What app did you use the most this year?

The podcast app. After I was done with touring and answering questions about records and stuff, I was taking a social-media break. I don’t have Instagram or Twitter or anything on my phone anymore. It’s wonderful. I used to, but the world doesn’t need me to weigh in on every outrage every day. I was like, “This is totally joyless. I’m doing this because it’s a thing that I got conditioned to think that I needed to do, and it gives me exactly zero pleasure.” It doesn’t feel good to my heart to do that kind of stuff.

Right now, what is the most important thing to you?

My family is the most important thing to me. What I spend the most time on is my art. You can read that however you like.

I’m sure they intersect at times.

They absolutely do, yeah. But my heart is making what I love and the people I love, and that’s kind of it.

During the rollout of MASSEDUCTION, you held a mock press conference and poked fun at music-journalism tropes. What do you ideally want out an interview?

The thing is, my ideal interview is actually an interview where I don’t talk about myself and get to ask other people about themselves. But I realize that’s not the structure, that’s not the exchange. I was trying to acknowledge the dance we were doing as artists and press and have some fun with that. Some people liked it, and I’m sure it was annoying to some people. It’s strange when you think [an interview] is one thing and someone has a completely different experience, and you’re like, “Oh dear God, do I lack that much self-awareness? Do I not understand facial cues, what’s happening here?” But it’s not in my control, and it’s not supposed to be.

#st vincent #annie clark #billboard #interviews #thx for explaining the lack of tweets which everyone misses and feels lost without #also #the 1975 being on annies list of faves is more proof that she just wants to confuse and shock the masses #guess i should listen to it...#my niece was obsessed with them when she was like 14 #now she is a fan of angel olsen and anne.#not that i had anything to do with that #lmao #...

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lywinis · 5 years

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Writing Meme! B, G, M, N & Z! :3a

This got pretty long, so I’m gonna pop it under a cut.

End of Year Writing Meme

B. Who’s your favorite side-character from something you wrote?

Nooooooo, you can’t make me choose. That’s so mean. Okay, instead of picking my favorite, I’m gonna rank them.

1. Lucy Sheffield (Morgana) – Mum is best. She’s the very epitome of patient and caring mother figure but she still won’t take your shit. Either lie still so you can heal properly or be lashed to the bed, Harry Hart.

2. Thomas Brampton (Lancelot) – he’s a shit and a kinda terrible father figure, but Harry and Lucy love him very much, so he has that going for him, I guess. He’s also a credible mentor, but he’s really kind of shit if you back up and look at the big picture, based on some of the interpersonal lessons he tries to impress upon Harry. But he’s my shit and I love him.

3. Mortimer Gainsborough – bruh I don’t think you understand how much of a hate boner I have for this asshole. He is the fucking worst but he’s also a pretty compelling villain, at least he will be once we have P&M and History Book fully underway.

4. Mickey and Maddy – God, I love them both so much. They’re good kids, Brent.

5. Wesley Emerson Wallace (Tristan) – We intended on making a neutral character that was divided up the middle between loyalty to Chester and respect for Galahad and Merlin, and ended up hurting ourselves in the process lolol

6. The Sons of Liberty – This is more your baby than mine, but I like them and I’m keeping them. They’re all so good, from Mina and her love affair with Champ down to Diani and Teagan being work wives. (And actual wives :D)

7. War – I can’t wait to bring her back into the equation. She’s very compelling to me. She and the Lion are going to be very fun.

G. Where do you think you grew the most this year?

Honestly, I don’t think I’ve grown a whole lot, so much as I have expanded sideways? My vocabulary has improved, and I’ve worked on a couple of turns of phrase that I like a lot. It’s just harder to quantify this year when Bon Dia! was my capstone for the fandom and that was completed in November of 2017. It doesn’t feel like I can top it. I’m honestly not satisfied with how In Bloom is turning out. It went…somewhere I didn’t really want it to and I wrote myself into a corner. For 2019 I’ve determined that I’m going to finish a fic in its entirety, give it an editing pass, probably pass it off to you to beta, and then publish. It means slower writing, but a more polished product, I think.

A couple of rather nasty anons left me wondering if I should even write for the fandom at all. Then I decided that I don’t care and I’m gonna do me. If they don’t like it they can sit down to a steaming plate of dicks and I’ll continue to do what I’m doing.

M. Meta! Have any meta about a story you’re dying to throw out there?

Hahahahahahaha I have SO MUCH meta. Most of it is spoilery for P&M and I really feel like a lot of people who read our stuff would chew off an arm to get at our Discord logs, just for a chance to read through the shit we spitball at each other.

N. Anything you were planning to write that never got written?

Oh, lord, yes, lots. There was that Spies and Prejudice thing in Regency AU I was planning on doing, but I lost the thread for it and just never completed it. There’s a couple of things I want to take a whack at – one of them is a one-shot that isn’t even for Kingsman, it’s a capstone ‘what happens after’ for the movie Hardcore Henry.

Z. If you could choose one work and immediately finish it, what would it be? How would you end it?

I know a lot of people probably expect me to say Douleur La Exquise, but honestly, I’d have to say Poison the Wellspring. It’s pretty deep in my archives, two chapters written of Phil set up to be a pawn in Loki’s attempt at destroying the Avengers from the inside. It was meant to read like a thriller, and I think I was far more ambitious than I am now when I started it. I had a gameplan to bring Thanos into it, way back in the dark ages of 2012, and I meant to bring in all these Marvel IPs that no one would have recognized, like Doctor Strange. With a lot of the choices Marvel has made, I’ve lost a lot of interest in writing it as a whole, but I’d still like to take another whack at it, next year.

If I could finish it right now, it would be thirty chapters of slow burn Capsicoul topped off with Phil’s rising paranoia and urging from Loki to push more of the Avenger’s secrets into his waiting hands. Soon, however, he stops hearing Loki and starts hearing a far more compelling voice, one with more strength of will and conviction in it. He starts hearing Thanos and the last vestiges of Phil that remains the loyal man he was before Loki’s capture rally together and provide him with a single moment of clarity. Deep in the watches of the night, he leaves his bed in the Tower and goes to the gymnasium. Tony’s built them a pool for laps, and Phil sinks himself to the bottom to drown himself – only to be saved by Steve. He can’t explain why he’s done this, thanks to the geas placed by Loki, so he’s pushed into therapy.

Soon, however, it becomes clear when Thanos arrives on earth looking for the stones, and Phil basically hands over the Avengers compound to him on a silver platter, admonishing Steve that he should have let him drown. Thanos, amused at the anguish this causes, imbues Phil with enough power to incapacitate the Avengers himself. It’s with a sense of horror that Phil complies, as all the team realizes he’s been planning this from the start – and Phil knows all their weaknesses, because that’s what he’s trained to know.

Thanos gains the gauntlet and nearly cripples the Avengers, until the geas, its purpose fulfilled, breaks – because Loki is nothing if not clever, and he placed that failsafe long before Thanos took over Phil’s thoughts and actions. Phil manages to take the gauntlet in a moment Thanos’s guard is down, when he’s communing with Death, and he banishes Thanos. He’s so tired, his will drawn so thin, he can’t muster the willpower to kill him, only bind him elsewhere. He brings back the Avengers, and then collapses, shattering the gauntlet into pieces and scattering them across the universes. The stones remain, for the Avengers to protect.

When Phil wakes up, it’s with Steve hovering over him in the hospital. Phil asks him where they stand, now that everything has come to light. He betrayed them all, perhaps against his will, but he didn’t fight near hard enough to break free. Even his relationship, while it had made him happy, was built on lies. He doesn’t know how or why Steve would still trust him, or even want to look at him.

Steve just tells him that he’s got a long road to rebuild that trust, and maybe they should wait before resuming what they had – even still, it won’t ever be the same. But Steve? Steve loves Phil, and knows that being compelled to do something isn’t the same as choosing to do it of one’s own free will. Steve, if Phil will have him, will be waiting for Phil to be ready. And if he never is, that’s all right, but they don’t have to talk about it now. Phil should get better, and should take some time just to be himself, since he hasn’t been able to do that in a long time. It ends on a bittersweet note, but there’s a mutual understanding between them that it isn’t the end, it’s more of a tabula rasa for them – the slate wiped clean, and they have to relearn about themselves and each other once again. But both of them are willing to put the work in.

That’s what makes it a relationship. Because it takes work. It takes wanting to see the other person happy, to see them grow and be complete in their own way, with or without you. Tribulations and pain do come, but they also go, and taking someone’s hand and promising that you’ll be there for them, well. For me, it doesn’t really change. And it never will.

#lywinis writes #lywinis memes #end of the year meme #Kingsman #Capsicoul #tagging it that because there is indeed Capsicoul under the cut #bearfethers

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peachyjie · 6 years

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Minus 20? || Zhu Zheng Ting

A/N : So this is a prompt I am really amused in, and am nervous on how this will turn out. But idk how did it turned from badass mafia shooting people to woosh and swoosh Mom I made a unicorn. It took me 3 days to get this brain unclogged and inspiration finally hits me so thank the lord also. Enjoy :>

Requested : Yes, the anon is getting more and more creative each days (Req are back in business ya’ll!)

Pairing : Zhu Zheng Ting - Reader

Genre : Hogwarts!AU + fluff

Summary : Just the usual and iconic Hufflepuff who ended up falling for a Slytherin who’s brother is the Hufflepuff prefect. Yea, that should sums it up.

————•————

“Slytherin takes the win!”

Ziyi gasped for air as the game ended, he laid down on the ground trying to even out his breathing. He stared in silence as the group of Slytherin broke into cheers, some coming down to heave up their seeker, Wang Linkai or known more as Xiaogui who himself has a proud grin on his face.

Xukun came over the heaving prefect and held out his hand. “It’s okay man, there’s next time”, Ziyi nodded before giving himself up to be pulled by Xukun. They congratulated the fellow players from Slytherin before getting off ready for dinner.

“To the 3rd year in a row!”, as the clinks of glass was heard with the proud voice from the Slytherin prefect filled the dining hall. Once again celebrating their unbeaten glory.

Yanjun, Slytherin’s prefect had his arm slung around Linkai, and laughed at the little seeker. Ziyi and the other hufflepuff sat quietly on their side of the table, already done with the game.

Zhengting, a fellow Hufflepuff beater sighed. Xukun nudged him and laughed. “We’re only in our 6th year, cheer up”

Ziyi held up his glass, a warm smile on his face. “To Hufflepuff, who played our best”, Zhengting smiled before clinking his glass on his. Zhengting nodded.

“To Hufflepuff”

“Wang Zi Yi”, all eyes snapped on the figure. You stood in your glory, pride as the green robe drapped on your figure. A fellow Slytherin on the Hufflepuff table.

Wang Y/N, known broadly in the Slytherin’s house. Not by her name, but by her status. Known to be the younger sibling of an Hufflepuff, many had it hard to believe that you’re put in Slytherin.

But Ziyi does, he knows how different you are from him. Since young you’ve shown your traits as a Slytherin whilst he is your polar opposite. So getting in Hogwarts, even he was as confident as you that you’ll be put in Slytherin.

Which also resolve to a lot of people, even the professors questioning which one of you are adopted.

Ziyi smiled. “May I ask why are you in the Hufflepuff table, Wang Y/N?”, you scoffed at your brother’s statement. You stared at Xukun and Zhengting who was ogling on you, and gave out a cold nod.

You slammed down a small parchment box and turned around walking back to your table, going beside Linkai and started joke with the other teams in process.

“That was rude”, Zhengting mumbled. Ziyi only shakes his head softly, a smile still on his face. He took the box and opened it, laid inside is a Burning Bitterroot Balm and a smal note.

“She’s always like that”, Ziyi said staring at Zhengting. Zhengting could see the adoring brotherly love aura penetrating from Ziyi.

Ziyi stared at the small paper and laughed slightly, Zhengting managed to take a small peak on it before Ziyi hid it in his pocket.

You did great, don’t push yourself Ge

“A Slytherin’s soul in a whole. But with me, a Hufflepuff’s heart”

Basically since then, Zhengting started noticing you more often. Especially since you always pass by in the hallways and would oftengreet Ziyi whenever you see him, occasionally giving a small nod to Zhengting and Xukun.

He would learn from Ziyi how you’re so ambitious and so determined to ace all of your subjects, it made you the top in every single class. He knew how you’re also born in natural intelligence, but still stay humble trying to learn more. You’re not cocky but can be cunning when times comes.

It peaks others interest on others whenever they sees you in the hall or basically, anywhere. You’re the professors favorite, sparks others interest which made you the center of love confession. It intrigued Zhengting.

“You obviously have an interest for Y/N”, Zhengting left out a gasp from Ziyi’s words. “Impossible!”, Zhengting yelped as he snatched his broomstick out of Ziyi’s hands.

“From your eyes that sparkles whenever I told stories about my life and Y/N’s to your unending interest about Y/N. Sure, you’re whipped”, Ziyi pats Zhengting’s shoulder with a warm smile on his face.

“I swear, I don’t hav-”

“Oh look, bees buzzing down in their hopeless dreams”, a sudden voice came booming on the fields. The Hufflepuff’s Quidditch team spun around staring at the figure.

The fellow Slytherin’s prefect, Lin Yan Jun. Accompanied by his friends, Wang Lin Kai and Huang Justin. Smirking, he walked closer. Their green robes majestically flows smoothly on their figure.

“Is there anything you need, Yanjun?”, Ziyi asked calmly as he stepped forward. Shielding the others in process. “Just want to see how are you all doing after losing again”, Yanjun mocks and shrugs a little.

“Were bummed but we’re confident enough on the next game, thank you for your concern”, his cool tone peaks the fire in Yanjun. Yanjun stared at Zhengting and scoffs. “This is the useless beater, huh?”

Zhengting widen his eyes in shock, he marches to Yanjun before Ziyi held him down. Ziyi gave him the eye, a meaning to not piss the prefect off. “If you are here not to summon me for any meeting but mock us, I would tell you nicely to leave”, Ziyi stared at Yanjun, which made him laughed.

“A Hufflepuff trying to tell a Slytherin off?”, Yanjun walked closer. Linkai noticed the movement of his prefect’s hands, going in his robe to fetch his wand. He tried to stop him, but was pushed off by Justin who shakes his head on him.

Ziyi stood still, knowing what will happen. “Who do you think you are? Just because your younger sibling is in Slytherin, it doesn’t make you less worthless.”, Yanjun hissed out.

Ziyi smiled, how amusing it was to piss this boy out. “At least Y/N is actually adored and loved by everyone, while you’re trying to act worthy”, Ziyi spite back. This was enough to peaks the other prefect’s off.

Yanjun launches himself on Ziyi, wand in his hand. “Sectum-”

Ziyi was too slow on taking his wand to even defend himself, but he didn’t need to. Out of nowhere, Yanjun felt a sudden force on him. The force was enough to snatch his wand and threw it all across the field.

“This isn’t how a proper duel should be conducted, is it?”

Wand held high, you glared at your own prefect. You walked in front of Ziyi, shielding him from anymore spells. You held your gaze with Yanjun, hard and cold.

“Didn’t I tell you not to bloody mess with my brother, Lin Yan Jun?”

Ziyi tried to grip your hand but you coldly shrugs him off. “Who told you to step into my business, Y/N?”, you stare hard at Yanjun. Your wand glowing, pointing at his chest. Yanjun could clearly feel the radiating warmth.

“I’ve warned you, Yanjun”, you hissed out his name. “Do not mess with my brother”, you glared at Yanjun. Yanjun was about to step forward before Linkai and Justin pulled him away from getting near you.

Professor Zhang walked as fast as he could, raising his voice. “What is the meaning of this?”. He stared at you, your wand still on hand. “Wang Y/N, I expected more professionalism aside of petty spell plays from you. Or was I expecting too much?”

Zhengting walked beside you, trying to interrupt. “But Professor-”, you held his arm. Your grip tight but still soft enough to not hurt him. Zhengting stared at you confused before noticing the hint you’re giving off.

“I am sorry, Professor Zhang”, you replied holding your gaze on your professor. “A simple apologies won’t be enough, miss Wang. Haven’t your prefect teach you the common rules on dueling on the grounds of Hogwarts?”

You turned around staring at Yanjun, slowly giving him a smile. You mouthed to him, and only to Yanjun. “I’ve warned you”

“Deduction of 20 points from Slytherin”

Yanjun stared at you in horror. Zhengting couldn’t take it anymore, he dashes out to the Professor but ended up tripping on his own two feet. You gasped.

When the Professor left the field, you went to help Zhengting up. Dusting the excess dirt of him. Zhengting swore he could feel heat radiating to his face right now, but tried hard to not show it.

“You bloody did it! You’re making us lose the House Cup!”, Yanjun yanked your shoulder forcing you to stared at him. But Ziyi was fast enough, he grips on Yanjun’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Ziyi”, you said to him calmly.

You didn’t do much, just slightly walking near Yanjun and a firm grip on his hand. “I’ve warned you. Mess with my brother, ever bloody business of his involves me”

You gave a knowing look to Linkai and Justin, who nodded at you. Before you know it, the fields were back in normal peace.

You stared at Zhengting in concern. “Are you okay?”, you asked in worry. Zhengting too flustered just blabbered nonsense, making him more embarrassed. You giggled in the process.

“Do you need to go to the Hospital Wing?”, you asked out joking. This made Zhengting laughed and shook his head. You stared at Ziyi, glaring at your brother.

“You tripped him”

Ziyi held up his hand in defense, acting innocent. You could only laugh. You were about to walk back to your next class before Zhengting grabs one of your hand, stopping you.

“We made your house lose 20 points, at this rate your house-”

You put a hand on top of his and smile softly. Zhengting could feel his heart skipped a beat, and the warmth of your hand didn’t help the rapid beating either. “I would sacrifice my life to keep you guys alive than winning a bloody House Cup”

Zhengting could feel his heart beating faster and all those mushy feeling in him, the warmth slowly circling in his insides. He stared at you, and he didn’t even care if he stared too long.

Ziyi coughed, taking both of your attention. “This is such a mundane things, I swear”, Ziyi raised his eyebrow. He walk his way to Zhengting, grabbing his collar and pulling him up. Slinging his arm on his shoulder, Ziyi smiles at you.

“Wang Y/N”, Ziyi called you. You crossed your arm and stared at your brother in your usual poker face. “Go to Hogsmeade with this beater on your weekend”

Zhengting stared at Ziyi in horror, he was so ready to hex his own prefect. “Oh, Y/N’s blushing”, Ziyi teased. Zhengting spun his head around, and he got a heart attack. The slight tone of pink decorating your cheeks, whilst you’re trying to tone it down by playing your hands on your burning face.

Zhengting thinks you look cute

You coughed, clearing your throat. “Let’s see if I can gain back that 20 points before this weekend”, giving them a small nod you ran back to the building trying to hide away your embarrassment.

Zhengting stared at Ziyi, punching him on the chest. “You’re an idiot”

Ziyi watched in disbelief. “I helped you scored a date with your crush!”. Zhengting gasp in horror, he stared at Ziyi. “Y/N rejected me you bloody idiot!”

“No”, Ziyi crossed his arm, staring down at Zhengting. “If others think scoring 20 points is a hassle, for Y/N it’s a piece of cake”

“Does that mean-”

“Yes you bloody idiot, she agreed on the date to Hogsmeade”, Ziyi took Zhengting’s broomstick and pass it to him. “So do well on the date, fellow bee”

Zhengting stood there, frozen. He got a date with a Slytherin, with you. He stands rooted on his spot not moving until Ziyi had to drags him back to practice. “We still have practice, don’t forget that”

“You tripped me, remember that”, Zhengting scowls.

Making the prefect’s laugh resonates the green fields

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