#anyways guess who might finally start up their dream campaign !!!

[ghostighostly]

My problem the first time i tried starting a dnd campaign: damn i dont have enough friends who are into dnd to run a campaign :[

My problem now: goddamnit all my friends will wanna join but its not good to run a campaign with more than 5 people

Yes this is a flex on all you friendless mfs get shit on /mj

#ghosti talks #anyways guess who might finally start up their dream campaign !!! #also technically im not running it another friend is but im like helper dm #the only reason im not dming is cause fucl that shit it gives me panic attacks teehee #like dming sessions just stops me dead in my tracks everyones focused on what i have to say and oh god oh no ive been silent for a minute- #so yeah they have that covered thank god #also if you see this moon please dont force me to run sessions i will melt #ghosti rant over time to fuckin eeeeep gn kings

[lucindarobinsonvevo]

i really want to share this because i think i was so smart to come up with this and i dont think i'll be finishing karma is a bounty hunter anytime soon. here's the twist:

Elle would be speaking on the phone to Tash and Andrew, and she starts complaining about this Ristic dude who's been the one spearheading the campaign against her and Harlow.

Tash would be like hmm interesting. have you considered that it might actually be pronounced Ri-Stich, which is a common Serbian last name.

Elle pauses, then goes I'm such an idiot!! and goes on to explain that Ristic is Lil's maiden name but she's only ever heard it spoken, never seen it written anywhere. Then goes on to say that she's only ever met three serbian people not including Tash. Lil, Serena...And the guard outside Robert's room (Robert attempts to kill himself *actually a murder attempt) who won't let her in to visit him despite her being explicitly named as his POA. Andrew asks how she knows his last name, and Elle explains that she can't see his name tag because he's wearing a coat but that one of the other guards called him by it earlier.

Then, she delivers the big fuck off twist. She can only think of one person who would care about getting revenge on her and Robert...Lil's eldest son Luka Dokich. She's been trying to speak to him for an interview for years but she's been searching for the last name Dokich, it never occurred to her he would have changed it to anything else. Realizing that Robert is probably in danger, Elle, without any allies left (Paul disowned her in part one, Riley is still in Sydney, Nicolette and Leo turn their backs on her in part three when she reveals that she actually could have given David a kidney, however she had made a choice to save it in case Harlow might need it later, Harlow tells her that she'd kill herself to get away from her too after Robert's alleged suicide attempt etc. it's the dark before the dawn basically) runs out of her hospital room, and up to Roberts. Robert is not there, the door is open and there's a small trail of blood from a removed IV...And crushed jacaranda flowers going up the fire escape.

Jacaranda flowers were going to be a repeating image in the story. They appear in the first part only on Elle's computer (she has Beneath the Jacaranda as her wallpaper), but in part two they would show up when she meets with Riley in Sydney and they walk under them in a park. Then in part three they would have shown up again when Elle arrives back at Lassiters and she follows a trail of them to another hotel room where Luka is spying on her and Harlow from, and for a third time when she's pushed down some stairs by him she's got one in her hand. In part four they would have shown up in Elle's extended dream sequence that takes place in the Plane from the Plane crash, where outside the window they're like, raining on them, and again after her long talk with Helen in the second part of the dream sequence she begs to be allowed to see Cameron before she goes, Helen agrees and lets Elle out into the backyard where he's waiting for her under some jacaranda trees. Finally, in part five they show up twice. Once, on the way to the prison with Harlow to see Robert they pass a car that has crashed into a Jacaranda tree before receiving the call he's tried to take his own life (and Harlow is angry that Elle is his POA not her) and again to lead Elle up to the roof top where she begins her confrontation with Luka to determine if Robert is going to live or die.

Part of the reason I havent actually started writing this is that it's too daunting lol, and also I haven't done that much research into Luka's episodes so I'm not sure what his actual fate is/if he has a personality that would lead her. not that it matters I guess neighbours can make a baddie out of anyone. But anyway if you were curious about the ending of Karma is a Bounty Hunter, then. here you go!

#neighbourspost #mitziwrites #its good to write this out because it think about it all the TIME #suicide mention/

[wetbloodworm]

i like thinking about mechanics and i’ve got a character with homebrew shit going on so under the cut i got some musings about how the dream-eating thing with zenith might work

as always, in an actual in-game scenario, DM makes the rules and gets final say on how things work. i just don’t have a framework for how all of this would go yet so i wanted to come up with ideas to give more bones to my daydreams lol i can’t not know. i need details. i need bones. can also be the scenario of like this is how zenith as a character i play with in my brain-space free of rules works vs zenith as a character i play with other people. idk it’s not that deep and it’s not set in stone, just having fun here!

talked about this a little bit previously in a big meta post but expanding some here

so first off, talking about zenith in three stages. there’s his starter stage just being himself out in the far realm, there’s the split stage where he’s half in the far realm and half in the material plane, and then there’s the merged stage when he moves entirely into the material plane.

starter zenith is full power and largely equivalent to his eventual lvl 20 self, so i use that sheet for reference re: stats and stuff.

split zenith is the character i’d be playing most of the campaign, who only has access to some of his power and gets more over time. i’m using his lvl 8 sheet for reference though the stats would obviously vary as he gets stronger

merged zenith is endgame shit, so back to the lvl 20 sheet. if he was able to get his full self into the material plane early he’d shoot up to lvl 20 upon merging anyway because there’d be no barrier to his full power anymore, but in a game setting i just figure he’s not going to get that chance until he’s actually earned lvl 20 to avoid skipping levels.

anyway, dream-eating! when he’s hunting, zenith basically sits himself down to meditate and starts reaching out psychically to find dreaming minds. he can’t sense the minds of those who are awake or those who sleep/trance without dreaming, they’re completely invisible to him, but if someone is actively dreaming he can smell it, or the psychic equivalent. i imagine that when he finds someone, it’s a wisdom saving throw to prevent him from accessing their mind. a successful save keeps him out entirely, a failed save results in zenith having free range to either straight-up eat the dream or project himself into the dream first before eating it. having a dream eaten causes psychic damage and wakes the dreamer up.

i’m not sure how much psychic damage it’d be, though i think it’d be a static thing. like it doesn’t matter how strong zenith is at the time, it’s the same number of dice across the board. it’s not an attack, he’s not TRYING to do damage, it just. it just happens. it’s a bad experience to have your dream ripped out of your brain while you’re actively experiencing it. i’m thinking 1d8 psychic damage? not a LOT of damage, though that really depends on your HP i guess.

i want to say that you can’t outright die from this damage, but i don’t know if that’s a mechanic i can control. if i had my way, it could absolutely bring you to zero, but you’d just be unconscious + stable. get 1 HP back in 1d4 hours without intervention. i wouldn’t be too bothered if i can’t swing that, it just makes more sense to me that you can’t straight up die in real life from dream shenanigans. if you can, though, oh well. zenith wouldn’t care if he knew.

notes on how easy/difficult hunting is for zenith based on what stage he’s in:

starter - incredible range, harder to access. the far realm and the material plane are very far away from each other, but zenith can reach it just fine. he has basically free range of the material plane as long as the dreamer’s mind isn’t protected somehow, though it takes him a while to actually get there. he has no idea WHERE in the material plane the dreamer is, he has no reference point, it’s basically just sticking his hand blindly into a bag and wiggling it around until he touches something. if he’s visited a specific dreamer before, he can sometimes find them again if they’re in the same general area, but it’s hard. the real problem that he IS very far away, so while he can find minds pretty easily, actually breaking in is more difficult. the save DC is WIS 19, but the dreamer has advantage even though they’re unconscious. the good thing for zenith here is that if he fails, he has basically unlimited attempts. he just has to find someone else and try again, and keep trying until he gets someone.

split - limited range, easier to access. being in two places fucks him up and severely limits his abilities while he gathers his strength. he can only reach dreamers within a certain range of his actual physical location in the material plane. not sure what’s a reasonable range, but i think it increases as he levels up? lvl 8 zenith might have like... a mile radius? since he’s physically in the material plane he has a general idea of where the dreamers he locates are, like oh they’re that direction near the edge of my reach. he can also find people much quicker than he could when he was fully in the far realm, though he only has a vague concept of that, since time in the far realm is a fucky thing. the save DC at lvl 8 is WIS 15, and i’m unsure whether it’d be a straight roll or at disadvantage b/c unconscious. i’d be good with either. the biggest problem is that zenith can only do this so many times before he tires himself out; he’s already split in two, reaching outside of both bodies when he’s not at full strength is hard. i think at lvl 8 he gets three attempts before he’s gotta stop, and if he fails all three attempts then he just goes hungry that day. attempts reset with a long rest. also, and i’ll touch on this more later, zenith can’t project himself into dreams in his split state, only eat them.

merged - best of both worlds! zenith’s back to being able to reach anyone sleeping on the material plane that doesn’t have their mind protected somehow. again, he only has a general idea of the direction and distance of the dreamer in relation to himself. he can find dreamers he’s visited before a bit easier, though if they wander too far from their previous location it can take a while. since he’s at full strength again AND has the upper hand of being on the plane he’s hunting in, the save DC is WIS 19 and it’s at disadvantage. he’s no longer limited in attempts he can make, though he’s likely to succeed faster anyway.

this is all assuming natural sleep, btw. i imagine someone being under the influence of magical sleep is easier prey. but listen, he might be helping, because when he eats their dream and it hurts them it might wake them up! you’re welcome!!

are people who are resistant or immune to psychic damage harder to break into or do they just take less damage from having their dreams eaten? not sure! i think less/no damage but he can still get ‘em.

if zenith pokes around in the dream first, i feel like there’d be different ways for the dreamer to wake up and spare themself the damage. they could just get scared awake if zenith shows himself/they spot him and they find him scary, or if they’re more lucid and want to get out of the dream they can actively try to wake themself up, or if they’re fully lucid and aware that this is an actual being in their mind they can try to force him out. 

not everyone has the option to get scared awake because not everyone would find zenith scary enough to need to make that roll. not sure what kind of roll that would be? maybe another wisdom save? successful save actually keeps you in the dream, failed save wakes you up. DC could be custom for the individual. how scared of monsters are they. zenith can’t do anything about this, if a person is too scared of him he just gets kicked out. it’s one reason why he’s generally pretty friendly when he chats with dreamers; he figures if he’s nice they’ll be less likely to get alarmed enough to force him out. the eyes and the teeth and the claws and the size and the void of him are often too much to be overlooked by some friendly chatter, though shdkfj and like. his true voice can be unsettling to people too so there’s only so much mitigating he can do lmao

for lucid dreaming, i’m thinking there might be a check first to see if the person is aware that they’re dreaming? if they pass, then they get the option to try to wake up if they don’t like what’s going on. probably a wisdom check rather than a save since they’re actively trying to do a thing. not sure what the DC would be, maybe zenith’s save DC (WIS 19) to simplify things, though it could also be custom based on the person. again there’s not much zenith can do about this unless he can tell the person is trying to wake up and he tries to talk them out of it. he doesn’t have control of a person’s mind or body like this, if they’re gonna wake up they’re gonna wake up.

forcing him out of a dream is different matter, though, that zenith can and will fight. as long as the person is asleep, he’s got his claws dug in. i’d imagine it’d be a wisdom contest to force him out. on a success, zenith is kicked out. on a fail, zenith is just mad about it and likely to skip chatting and go straight to eating.

not sure if the difficulty of this wisdom contest would vary based on the stage zenith is in? my instinct is that it doesn’t. he might have to try harder to get into a dream depending on his circumstances, but once he’s in he’s in.

as i mentioned, zenith can only project himself into dreams in the starter or merged states. being split in two is difficult, and he can only stretch himself so thin, and he’s already reaching outside of himself enough as it is just by hunting. he is deeply annoyed by this, because he LIKES looking at people’s dreams! they’re fun to watch, he’s fascinated by them! it’s probably for the best since the longer he lingers the greater his risk of getting kicked out, and in his split state he can only make so many attempts, so he shouldn’t risk it anyway. but listen. it’s the principle of the matter. another upside though is that he doesn’t only get to socialize with material plane denizens through dreams anymore, he can just go anywhere and find them in person if he wants to chat. he misses actually getting to see the dreams, though.

i think when he eats a dream he gets flashes of the emotions tied to it, no visuals or details or anything, just vibes. like without actually seeing the dream he can tell if it was a nightmare, or an anxiety dream, or a happy dream, etc. this is basically the equivalent of different flavors for him.

he gets hints of those vibes when he’s hunting and catches the ‘scent’ of a dream, and can ‘smell’ it stronger if he actually enters the dream because then it’s everywhere. he thinks it’s funny when the flavor changes after a dreamer sees him.

outside of being able to appear in a dream and talk with the dreamer, zenith has no additional control. he can’t shape the dream or have any affect on the dreamer, can’t cast spells there, etc. if he doesn’t share any known languages with the dreamer, he can’t communicate with them either. he also can’t control how he appears to the dreamer beyond the limits of what he can actually do with his body. all he can do is observe, chat, and eat.

in terms of mechanical benefits, zenith doesn’t like... get anything extra from eating dreams. like it’s not that he eats a dream and then gets health from it or anything. it’s just food. he has to eat regularly to avoid the consequences of starving like anything else that eats. he also craves dreams intensely, but that’s just him being Hungry, not him looking for a specific benefit.

tl;dr mechanics summary:

starter - zenith can access any dreaming person who isn’t otherwise protected if they’re on the material plane. the dreamer has to make a wisdom saving throw with advantage (DC 19). on a successful save, zenith is denied access and the dreamer experiences no effect. on a failed save, zenith can chose to eat the dream at any time, causing 1d8 psychic damage and waking the dreamer. if the damage brings the dreamer to 0 HP, they remain unconscious but are stable, and regain 1 HP in 1d4 hours. zenith can also enter the dream to observe it and/or speak to the dreamer. if the dreamer is scared of him, they make a wisdom saving throw (undetermined DC); a failed save wakes them with no damage. if the dreamer is lucid, they can choose to make a wisdom check (DC 19?) to wake up with no damage on a success, or a wisdom contest against zenith to remain asleep and force him out of their mind. zenith can attempt this an unlimited number of times, though he can’t attempt to target the same dreamer if he’s already failed or been booted once by that individual already that day.

split - zenith can access any dreaming person who isn’t otherwise protected if they’re on the material plane and within range (1 mile at lvl 8). the dreamer has to make a wisdom saving throw (?with disadvantage?) (DC 15 at lvl 8). on a successful save, zenith is denied access and the dreamer experiences no effect. on a failed save, zenith can eat the dream, causing 1d8 psychic damage and waking the dreamer. if the damage brings the dreamer to 0 HP, they remain unconscious but are stable, and regain 1 HP in 1d4 hours. zenith can attempt this a limited number of times per long rest (3 at lvl 8), and he can’t attempt to target the same dreamer if he’s already failed once at that individual already that day.

merged - zenith can access any dreaming person who isn’t otherwise protected if they’re on the material plane. the dreamer has to make a wisdom saving throw with disadvantage (DC 19). on a successful save, zenith is denied access and the dreamer experiences no effect. on a failed save, zenith can chose to eat the dream at any time, causing 1d8 psychic damage and waking the dreamer. if the damage brings the dreamer to 0 HP, they remain unconscious but are stable, and regain 1 HP in 1d4 hours. zenith can also enter the dream to observe it and/or speak to the dreamer. if the dreamer is scared of him, they make a wisdom saving throw (undetermined DC); a failed save wakes them with no damage. if the dreamer is lucid, they can choose to make a wisdom check (DC 19?) to wake up with no damage on a success, or a wisdom contest against zenith to remain asleep and force him out of their mind. zenith can attempt this an unlimited number of times, though he can’t attempt to target the same dreamer if he’s already failed or been booted once by that individual already that day.

#zenith tag

[littlemisslipbalm]

“Harry’s stylist, right?”

Summary: Harry and his personal stylist are great collaborators, on screen and off. She helps his visions come to life and in turn they’ve become close friends. As she helps him to bring his fashion dreams come to life during the Fine Line era, will some other dreams come to life as well?

or

Harry and his stylist go from colleagues to friends to lovers because they’ve been in love with each other from the jump

this fit is very important to this part lmaooo - I literally have no idea what to call this lol, anyway I've been sitting on this for forever and I wanted to get something out for yall and i love this story there will be a part 2 when i get to a writing mood. I love this story bc its my literal dream - anyway!! pls enjoy and reblog and lmk what you think :)

Word Count: 14k | Warnings: swearing, drinking, tame for now, should be smut eventually - aka slow burn (what else would you expect from me at this point i guess)

part 2

-

“Hey, H, I just had a question about one of the SNL outfits? Do you have a sec?”

Harry looked up from his phone and raised his brows at his stylist, Y/N.

Y/N had worked with Harry previously. In photoshoots for Another Man magazine and his most recent Gucci campaign. As well as some other random times, such as one-off award show looks and specific appearances. However, this past summer Harry had hired Y/N to work fulltime for him, exclusively. He had told her that he was planning on releasing his second album in the winter and he wanted someone there to help him plan his clothes for music videos, award season, interview appearances, as well as tour outfits.

Y/N stood just inside the doorway of the room, leaning her back against the wall, looking expectantly at him. Her eyes were wide and her lips were pursed. She was dressed simply in a white satin skirt and a matching cropped button-up, they both had cream flowers embroidered on, paired with horsebit slim Gucci mules. Her style was eclectic, but she had definitely noticed an increase of Gucci in her wardrobe since starting her employment with Harry.

Y/N’s passion in life was fashion and clothes and she constantly worried that one of Harry’s outfits wouldn’t deliver as much as she wanted it to. He was quick to tell her not to worry so much though, as long as they both were happy with it, how could anyone else not love it. Plus, he’d always add, it didn’t really matter what anyone else thought. But as more and more events began to crop up, Y/N’s worry over her work grew. She had only been the head stylist for Harry on projects that were still underwraps - except for Lights Up which had been released a couple weeks ago now.

The first project she ever worked on with Harry as his full-time personal stylist was the Lights Up music video. She had never worked so closely with one person for so long on just one project. Harry was insistent in vision and came in the first day filled with ideas, what he imagined for the video's concept and how he wanted to incorporate clothes. She had been happy to make his dreams become reality.

The two of them spent hours at his house for weeks, pouring over every detail of every outfit he planned to wear. They both wanted it to be perfect. And eventually, it all came together, exactly how they had planned. All of the garments for the video took up two entire garment racks. Y/N had made Harry pose in every single outfit for polaroids that she dated and then put into a lookbook she started for him. She had told him she planned to document every outfit she styled for him and Harry had been so excited. The outfits he wore in the video were received with praise when it was finally released, and Harry and Y/N were overjoyed. There was already a party for its release, but they both were especially happy that night. Throughout the evening, Harry and Y/N would gravitate to one another and fall into side conversations about the outfits and what people had been saying. Even if Harry said it didn’t matter, he and Y/N both knew, at the end of the day, they loved when people were happy with their work.  

“Sure,” he bounced to his feet, but Y/N made a hand motion telling him that he could stay seated. He settled back down as she crossed over and sat beside him on his couch.

She was at his house in London today planning his next few appearances that were promotion for the upcoming album, Saturday Night Live was next. Harry had been taking a break from their work until she had come in.

It wasn’t unusual for Y/N to be at his house, they had been working together for months now. First, it had been for his outfits in his music videos that were filmed in late summer and early fall, like Lights up, but also a few other ones. Now, it was clothing for promo appearances, interviews, and listening parties. Next, it would be tour outfits, which she had already started planning, but officially, they hadn’t started discussions yet. Harry had helped her to get a flat closer to his house in London just for her to be able to head over and help with the planning or fitting of his outfits more easily. She also was constantly traveling with him to his appearances, making sure outfits were perfect right before whatever show it was or making last minute adjustments in case either of them decided something wasn’t right.

While Harry was a big guy, his waist was far trimmer than a usual man built to his size, this meant she had to take in a lot of his trousers at the waist. As well, with his shirts and coats, she’d have to take them in or out depending on how Harry wanted the fit to be - either perfectly tight or perfectly oversized. He was particular, but she appreciated his drive for fashion and how he cared for his appearance. Before performances, she often had to take things in or out based on any body fluctuation that had occurred since the initial fitting.

She was looking at her sketchpad that held all of her notes on his clothes - which was different from the lookbook of polaroids - including patches of the actual colors and little Harry figures dressed in what he was going to wear. Right now, she had the pad opened to a page titled “SNL Opener - November 16, 2019”.

“So I was thinking with your opening monologue outfit, it might look better to have a different colored blazer? A matching yellow would be great, but if you did more of a toned down - maybe light tan or beige - blazer with gold embellishments, you’d elevate it to look sophisticated and stylish, rather than just stylish. It’d be exactly like the runway look - which I know you sometimes don’t like, but I think it’s what looks best.”

She ran her finger between two swatches of what she thought would be the better blazer color and the one Harry had originally wanted. He wet his lips and gazed at the page as he thought about what she said. Normally, she liked monochrome on him, but she thought the deep blue underneath a completely yellow suit might wash him out on the stage.

“Yeah,” he pointed to the top beige swatch, “I think I do like this better.” He paused and turned his head to Y/N, looking in her eyes before asking, “Is that all?”

“Er...no,” Y/N ran a hand over her unstyled hair, slightly fluffed by her constant musing of it. She often fiddled with it while she worked, better than biting nails she always said when confronted about her tick. After a sigh Y/N continued, “I was just on the phone with Jane from Gucci and she said that for Look 57 they could only send your technical size, for some reason they can’t custom make it. Meaning, I’ll have to tailor the whole thing to you when it arrives. Is that alright? Or do you want to choose something else?”

She flipped to a page that said “SNL WS.” Harry followed her hands and nodded realizing she was talking about the Gucci suit he wanted to wear for Watermelon Sugar. It was a watermelon’s inside red. When he had found out the suit came in that color, he had danced around the dining table for what Y/N had felt like was an hour, humming the tune of Watermelon Sugar excitedly. Finally, she had coaxed him to sit back down and get back to their other work, which was still picking out clothes.

“No, that’s fine,” Harry shook his head and used his thumb to scratch under his lips absentmindedly, “It really needs to be that color.”

She nodded, she knew what his answer was going to be, but she also knew he still liked to make the final decision.

“Alright, we’ll just have to meet for longer when everything arrives, to tailor that one. Then the rest of them should just be making sure the fit is perfect.”

She rose up from her seat and patted Harry’s shoulder, leaving him to his thoughts, as she went back to finish up the calls with Jane and the designers.

He caught her hand in his before she completely walked away, “Thank you, Y/N.” He was so grateful he had hired someone who was as driven as he was and understood his fashion sense and wanted to help enhance what he was thinking, rather than someone trying to control him or just going along with whatever he said. Neither would be productive or helpful, thankfully Y/N loved her job and cared to do things right.

She grinned before exiting, “H, you’re going to be this century’s style icon if it’s the last thing I do.” He laughed as she walked out of the room, leaning back on the couch to continue his lurking on Instagram.

-

One week later

“I’m here, H! I come bearing Gucci and more!” Y/N said as she shuffled through Harry’s front door, she held a deconstructed rack and a garment bag filled with heavy suits and things. Inside were Harry’s four most important outfits for SNL, some other garments for SNL, and some clothes they had talked about for his upcoming listening sessions later in the month. Y/N needed to check the fit on all of them and begin tailoring the Watermelon Sugar suit. The key Harry had given to Y/N, previously, had let her in, but she assumed he was home. He said he’d be.

When Y/N rounded the corner she found another empty room. Confused, she set down her large items and went to search for Harry. Y/N literally needed him to be here for this part. It was the only real time she actually needed to see him in person - but that was beside the point.

“H?”

She wandered through the different rooms of his home. Normally, Y/N didn’t go into the other rooms, she was always mainly in his lounge area, the dining room, and a little casual office room he had - sometimes the kitchen for water, his bedroom once. Still not finding him, she decided to venture to the furthest door, Harry’s bedroom, she remembered.

Harry groaned at the sound of a knock on his door, he rolled over in his bed. After a few moments of hearing nothing else than his groan, Y/N felt like she had to go in and check on him.

“H, it’s 12:30 and we agreed we’d meet at noon. Are you feeling alright?”

Y/N moved into the room and found a shirtless Harry surrounded by rumpled sheets, clutching at a pillow. He groaned into his pillow again in response. Her legs bent at the edge of the bed and she reached out to smooth some of his chestnut hair out of his face, “What’s wrong?”

He moved his head to allow his eyes to look at her, “‘M so tired, don’t know why. My stomach kind of hurts too…” Y/N looked at him quizzically, before running her hand over his tan forehead once more, this time checking for a fever. “You don’t have a fever. When did you go to sleep? Have you eaten anything today?” With her help, Harry moved into a seated position, head tilted back against the bedpost. He sat silent for a moment before blowing air out of his mouth. “Went to sleep kind of late for me, I guess...Haven’t eaten.”

“Ok, you’re just tired from staying up late, you old man, and you might be a little dehydrated and hungry. Listen, I’ll go make you some food if you get up and prepare yourself for the day. We need to get all your clothes fitted so that I can fix anything before next week.” Y/N was always good at getting Harry back on track when he got distracted - or even out of the station, when he wasn’t in the mood to work on something. She slid from her perch on the bed and walked to almost the edge of the room before Harry called her back.

“Can you pick out my clothes for me?” His soft, tired voice whined. “So hard...and you’ve got the best eye. Pleaseeee,” he pleaded softly.

Rolling her eyes, Y/N sighed and made her way back into his room. Crossing to the door that led to his walk-in closet, she set to work. As silly as he was being, she could never pass up on a chance to pick out an outfit for Harry.

“You’re literally going to be changing the entire time, H, you could have just thrown on sweats,” she called back to him once inside the smaller room. He repeated how she always picked the right thing, even for just around the house. Again, Y/N rolled her eyes at Harry, but she also couldn’t hide the warm smile on her face that was due to his compliment.

She couldn’t believe how dramatic Harry could be sometimes. Right now, he was a lesser form of hungover and he was acting like his life was ending. Y/N had made a note a while ago to never agree to a meeting on the day after any partying. She learned the hard way one particularly terrible Sunday. She had come round his house at a similar time, noon-ish and found Harry dead asleep, backwards in his bed. When she had roused him, his only responses were grumbles and groans. She had to not only pick out his clothes, but also help dress him. Then, after providing water and aspirin, she moved all their work into his bedroom so they could work from there. Harry had proved to be a baby when it came to hangovers.  But, she hadn’t realized he could get like this even without being truly hungover.

After settling on his live aid t-shirt, that Y/N was eternally jealous of, located at the front of his drawer and his favorite corduroy trousers, she walked out and threw them in the direction of his toned, but slumped body. “I will not get you boxers, that is most definitely not in my job description, Boss.” Y/N sent a pointed look in his direction, moving to finally leave the room. While he was technically her boss as her employer, their work relationship was extremely collaborative and it never felt like he was in control of her, she just liked to give him shit for being a drama queen.

“Guess I’ll be going commando. How’s that going to work with me changing in front of you a bunch of times?” He teased right back, taking the clothes you had thrown at him and giving them a onceover. His teasing signalled that he was already feeling better.

Y/N shook her head and walked out of the room, “For the love of God, Harry, please put on underwear before you come out and continuously strip in front of me!”

The words he shouted after that were muffled, but they were something along the lines of how the human body is beautiful and shouldn’t be covered up. Unbelievable. As she set to work on making both of them some lunch, she finally heard Harry begin moving around. They had a lot of work to do as it was and whenever Harry was in a mood, whether it be a good mood or a bad mood, they always seemed to have a hard time focusing.

One night, that could be seen as the poster child for Harry and Y/N’s procrastination, was during the planning for the Adore You music video. Harry was in a super good mood that day and he had brought that energy to their meeting at his house. Y/N was supposed to be fitting him for the various outfits, but Harry, in his mania, ordered an overzealous amount of Chinese food. It took her and Harry hours to even make a dent in the food. And while they passed the time with eating, Harry and Y/N got further and further from their tasks, opting for conversations that included more fun topics than work. They had gossipped about some of the other people they worked with, Harry had begged for “the tea” about some of his other staffers and Y/N was happy to oblige. As much as Y/N would hate to admit it, she loved when they got off of work subjects and talked about how their day’s had been and what has been on their nerves lately. It was a nice way to decompress, it was like hanging out with a friend, except it wasn’t, not really.

Harry shuffled into the kitchen wearing what Y/N had picked out for him. Her smile grew knowing that he hadn’t changed what she’d picked. His confidence in her and her abilities never failed to feel like the biggest compliment.

“Go sit at the dining table, I’ve made us some little sandwiches and then we can decide the order we want to go through the outfits in.”

Before following Y/N’s orders, Harry continued his shuffling around, first to the cabinet for a glass, then to the fridge for water. At the end of the table, she set the plates between the head of the table’s spot and the one to its left. Harry took the side spot, so Y/N was on the end. After a bite of his food, Harry moaned loudly in contentment. This caused an amused look on Y/N’s face, there had been nothing special in his house so she had just made what was possible. This meant that Harry’s satisfaction was a little over the top.

“You’re acting like you haven’t eaten in a week. What did you do last night that got you in such a twist?” Y/N asked as she took a sip of her own glass of water. Harry nibbled at his lower lip after swallowing, trying to understand why he was particularly tired today.

“I guess I forgot to eat properly yesterday and then I went out running. And I stayed up late on the phone with,” he paused, eyes flashing to Y/N and then away again, “someone for SNL.”

Y/N hummed at his words before going back to her own eating. She didn’t understand why he hesitated about telling her he’d been on the phone last night, it especially irked her that he wouldn’t even say with whom. Professionally, it wasn’t really her business, but Harry was never secretive with her. Plus, it seemed to be work related so why was he being so flighty about it.

Moving forward, Harry peppier from eating and simply moving around, the pair set to work. They decided on trying on everything else first and then saving the Watermelon Sugar suit to the end. The other three main pieces for the night fit perfectly, Y/N had to only do minor reworks of certain areas.

“H, I need you to hold still…” Y/N interrupted Harry’s ramblings as she was crouched beside him.

She had to take up the hem on the pant legs so right now she was trying to pin them in the place she and Harry had agreed upon, without messing with the pleats.

“Sorry,” He mumbled, straightening out his back to stand taller.

He stayed quiet for a bit until Y/N popped back up, she looked at her notebook for reference on what she still had to tailor.

“Okay, next, the pants crotch is looking pretty fitted, so I assume you want it taken down a bit,” Y/N said as she got back into her crouching position. “Look in the mirror and tell me where you think letting it out looks best, I don’t have the best vantage point when I’m up this close…” she trailed off, placing her measuring tape directly on top of Harry’s crotch and running it down his leg a ways.

Once done with her first attempt at where she thought was best to let the pants out, she turned her eyes to the mirror that showed Harry in his suit with Y/N on her knees before him. Harry cleared his throat as he looked in the mirror, seeing Y/N with her eyes wide in anticipation in the position she was in made him want to run and hide. Her hands were extremely close to his dick, but it was literally her job, he knew he had to shake the thoughts that were running through his mind.

“Maybe just a bit further up actually, as much as I like the high waist with dropped crotch, I want this suit to have that specifically tailored look,” his hands motioned for Y/N to bring the drop up a ways.

Her hands then brought the measuring tape up, once again grazing over his area. Again, Y/N looked at Harry through the mirror for approval, and this time he gave it and she placed a single pin in the place where the pants would be let out to.

Standing up, Y/N hoped Harry didn’t notice the blush gracing her face. She was a stylist and used to being around naked bodies as well as touching around a man’s crotch when working. But Harry in this suit must have been magic, because she had felt extremely vulnerable on her knees in front of him in it. She had felt flushed the minute he hadn’t liked what she had done initially and she hated that she felt that way for some reason. Beginning to work on the sleeves of the suit set her at ease, Y/N was thankful to no longer be kneeling or in such close proximity to what was under Harry’s pants.

“Anything on your mind of late?” Harry broke the silence.

Y/N hummed with a pin stuck between her lips, folding up the suit jacket’s right sleeve. Plucking it from her mouth after a few silent moments, she said, “Not really, haven’t had time to do much else lately. Always thinking about you,” Y/N flushed as she realized what she had just said. “I mean, thinking about you like about your clothes and when they’re going to arrive and what I need to do about them, not you personally, sorry that came out wrong,” her blush intensified as she rapidly fumbled through her last sentence.

“Ow!”

“Oh my god!”

While Y/N had gotten flustered with her words, she managed to stick the pin she was using straight into Harry’s flesh. She immediately removed the pin from where it had stuck him.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, H, we’ve got to get this off. I need to make sure you’re not bleeding onto the suit.”

Y/N rushed around to Harry's backside and began slipping off his suit jacket as Harry chuckled and began to unbutton the shirt as carefully as possible.

“‘S alright, Y/N, if there’s any blood on the shirt it’ll blend in, blood is practically the same color.” She glared at him through the mirror and Harry continued to laugh, “That is not funny, H, I shouldn’t have stuck you in the first place.”

“No, no,” Harry hushed Y/N as she began to slip off his shirt from one side to the other, taking off the sleeve on the side she hadn’t poked, “you’ve got so much on your plate with all the planning for the upcoming events. Then you worked yourself up over a little slip.” As Y/N carefully unbuttoned the cuff of the sleeve to try and slip off the shirt with the least amount of blood on it as possible, Harry finished with, “I wouldn’t mind if you were just thinking about me, though, an’ not the clothes.”

This time, Y/N was very in control, not willing to let herself slip up a second time today. She didn’t know how to respond to what Harry had just admitted. It wasn’t like this hasn't happened before. Both of them were guilty of making little comments that made it sound like they were interested in each other in a way that was a little different than professional or friendly. But every time the other person always had the responsibility to shut the idea down or completely blow past what their counter had just said.

“Harry…” She began, it was soft and pleading, like she was saying she couldn’t entertain that idea. Examining his forearm, after pulling the shirt completely away and resting it on a nearby chair, she saw a little spot of blood protruding from the pin prick she had caused. “Where do you keep your bandages?” Y/N decided that it was best to brush past Harry’s words this time and went off to find his first aid kit. Harry stood there, shirtless, staring at the blood on his arm. It really wasn’t a lot and it wouldn’t have done anything to the suit, but Y/N was always so careful and never wanted to ruin any of Harry’s clothes.

On her return, Y/N came upon a shirtless Harry perched on the edge of the table, with one arm crossed and his other - that was bleeding - being held slightly away from his body, as if Harry was afraid to touch it. His posture was slumped so Y/N could see his spine curving beneath his tanned honey-soft skin and his shoulder blades slightly flexed. While most of Harry’s body was covered in tattoos, she noticed how the closest tattoo to his back was the small line drawing of a guitar on the back of his left shoulder. Other than that his smooth back was bare. Y/N found it interesting that Harry had never chosen to ink his back. She jogged lightly back into the room and Harry’s head turned to watch her approach. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth as he regarded her. She noticed he was being particularly quiet, but she had no idea why. Maybe he was still tired.

Y/N set to work on finding the correct tissue, neosporin, and bandage for Harry’s small wound. As she worked on fixing up her mistake, Harry’s eyes followed her movements. Green eyes flickering between her hands on his arm and her own eyes focusing on her task.

“After this, I actually can just head home and finish the rest of the work,” Y/N said as she unpackaged the bandage, “I already know where I need to take in the suit sleeves and the shirt’s sleeves were looking fine. So, I can get out of your hair and you can get to sleep early tonight.” She placed the nude toned bandage over Harry’s arm, she was a little sad to find he didn’t own fun bandages. That was something that she expected from Harry, but she resigned that maybe she didn’t know everything about Harry.

Before Harry could speak, Y/N continued, “Don’t rehearsals for the show start tomorrow? When are you flying to New York?” She ran her hand over the bandage, smoothing it in place. Her hand lingered there as her eyes looked up and met Harry’s. Harry twitched his arm away from Y/N’s touch and scratched his nose slightly.

“Yeah, I’m flying out tomorrow morning. When are you set to fly out?”

“Friday. I’ll get in before the final dress rehearsal and then I’ll be there for the show.” Y/N stepped back and began to rehang the suit jacket and shirt that they had discarded in her haste to not get blood on them.

Then Y/N stood there staring at Harry. He looked at her slightly confused by her doing nothing when she said she was leaving. “Pants, H.” She said finally when she realized he had forgotten he was still wearing the suit pants. “Oh! Sorry,” Harry exclaimed as he began to unbutton and remove the pants he was wearing. He handed her the pants and she exchanged them with his live-aid t shirt. He took it graciously before slipping it on and disguising his toned body beneath it. Then he took his pants from earlier and fully redressed himself.

“Damn!” Y/N said and Harry’s head flipped to watch her as she began to put all of the clothing back in their garment bags and take down the rack.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just pinched myself with the rack, I’m all left feet today.”

“Here,” Harry chuckled as he walked over to help Y/N, “let me help you with all this. Just in the boot of your car, yeah?” Y/N nodded and smiled in appreciation for Harry. He grabbed her keys laying on the table and then took the rack and a garment bag. Even if things sometimes got tense between them, for whatever reason, he was always quick to move past it and be thoughtful and kind in the best ways for Y/N. After shaking her hand out, she grabbed the last garment bags and followed Harry out to her car. Harry shut the back of her car softly and turned to face Y/N, she stood beside her car door, ever so slightly leaning against it. He walked to her side and smiled.

“I’ll see you in a week,” he said before wrapping his arms around Y/N’s much smaller frame. His body was radiating heat and it felt good against Y/N in the crisp night air of London. She pressed into his hold and wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him hard. “Less than...Can’t wait to see you make an absolute fool of yourself out there.” Harry protested her tease with a small, “Hey!” but mostly focused on his hands on her back and the way her hair felt especially soft under his chin. Finally, Y/N pulled away, “Kidding! You’ll be amazing and you’ll look killer while doing it.” She winked before opening her car door and driving off. Harry was left with the lingering scent of her perfume and shampoo mingling in his nose.

-

It was the Saturday night, November 16th, 2019.

Harry and Y/N were in his dressing room before the show started. His outfits for the night were lined up, except for his opener one that Y/N had just dressed him in. His first change would be for Light’s Up, then a couple skit outfits that had to be moved elsewhere for quick changes, then the Watermelon Sugar suit, and then finally his end of the show casual look. The opener looked incredible, it’s fit was impeccable and Y/N knew people were going to love it.

She stepped back from Harry to give his whole body a once over, the SNL hairstylist had just blown out his hair and given him a sort of middle part. It definitely looked good and paired with the suit - Y/N could already tell it was going to be a hit by all accounts. Harry grinned back at her, doing a little dance to show just how much he was loving his clothes and how excited he was.

Grabbing the lint roller, Y/N gave the lapels of his suit jacket a once over and then moved it slightly out of the way to roll the big collar of Harry’s shirt and the bits of the body of the shirt that were showing underneath the jacket. Basically, Y/N was lint rolling over Harry’s clothed abs. Apparently, that was a ticklish area for Harry because he began to squirm and giggle under the tool’s touch.

“Seriously, H?”

She smiled as she said it, so excited for Harry that she couldn’t be mad at his relestness.

“Can’t help it. ‘M so giddy. Plus, I’m a wee bit ticklish.”

Y/N gave him a single laugh before removing the lint roller and smoothing over the shirt against his stomach and then over the lapels when she put the jacket back in place. She adjusted the Gucci reader’s she was wearing today, that were more for decoration than anything, but she liked to pretend they made her see better.

“You look smashing, Mr. Styles. Absolutely gorgeous, if I do say so myself.”

“Are you talking to me or the suit?” Harry asked as he flipped to look in the full length mirror in the dressing room.

“Can’t it be both?”

“Sure,” Harry said, he noticed the clock and realized it was his time to get in places. He leaned down and placed a small kiss on Y/N’s cheek, “It’s my time, thank you, Y/N.” She blushed at his words and actions. As he walked out the door, she called after him, “Break a leg, H!” He sent a final air kiss in her direction before completely disappearing.

She looked at the clothes hanging on the rack in the room and palmed over the fabric. Checking the lapels and brushing the lint roller over the, she finally stepped back and was happy with how they looked. When the show was just about to start, she flitted to the part of backstage where she could watch Harry perform. She giggled along to his monologue and grinned whole-heartedly when the crowd would roar with approval. Y/N had heard all of the jokes already because of the dress rehearsal yesterday, but it didn’t matter. Harry was killing it. She also took time to appreciate how good Harry looked in his suit on stage. In front of the lights and all the people, his suit shined brightly with the pops of blue and yellow and the oversized grey-iege jacket. His soft chestnut hair billowed perfectly to frame his forehead as he sipped from the faux martini. Y/N bit her lip to stifle her laugh. The fact that Harry, her boss and friend, was up on the Saturday Night Live stage with pink and blue nails sipping from a faux martini, it was perfect.

When Harry came back for his first performance change Y/N was right there waiting for him.

“Hi, that was really good,” she smiled up at him as he began to take off his coat.

He smiled brightly back at her as he exhaled a hefty breath, “You think so?”

“Yes! C’mon, everyone loved it. You delivered it all perfectly…” she took over undoing the buttons on the shirt because Harry was moving too slowly. “I’m in a man band now…” Y/N mumbled under her breath before chuckling.

“Did you just imitate my accent?” Harry said, now pulling off his sleeves.

Y/N moved around his back to take the shirt to hang and grab his Lights Up outfit. They worked like a well-oiled machine together, constantly taking over roles to get things done more efficiently, but never stepping on each other’s toes.

“Nope,” she winked before handing him the black sequin jumpsuit and exchanging it for his yellow pants. After rehanging the pants and bringing over Harry’s different set of boots, Y/N said, “Y’know, I’d have to say that your hair is giving your suit a run for its money.” She placed the shoes on the table beside Harry and began to fix into the place different parts of the jumpsuit, moving to zip up the back and then coming to the front to smooth it.

“What do you mean?” Harry looked in the mirror and delicately touched the edges of his hair, considering Y/N’s statement.

“No one ever really sees it how it is, nicely blown out but not too much product so it falls to frame your face. What’d you tell the hair person you wanted?” Y/N stepped back to allow Harry to change his boots from one Gucci pair to another, like he did with most of his wardrobe.

“Just told them to make me look mature. You think it looks good?” He looked up at Y/N when he asked the question.

“Think it looks sexy, that’s what I’m saying, no one’s gonna be able to focus on your clothes with how good your hair looks.”

“Ah,” he deftly runs his hands down his suit as he looks in the mirror.

Y/N just stares at Harry, checking him over one more time. She wasn’t lying about his hair, it was sexy and she wanted to run her hands through it to feel how soft it was. In a complete friend way of course.

“I like it…”

“It looks like you just rolled out of bed, but the bed was made of angel feathers.”

Harry laughed at Y/N’s description. He shifted his body to face her more and moved closer to her in the process.

“Alright, you should probably get back out there,” Y/N closes the gap between them and adjusts the chain of his jade and silver crosses and brushes over his broad shoulders.

They’re professional touches, but her movements hold an undercurrent of intimacy that neither of them realize. If anyone had been looking on, they would see how Y/N’s fingers delicately caressed Harry’s skin right before she cradled the pendants to move them in place. They would also see Harry instinctively lean forward into her touch and breathe slightly deeper to take in her scent. When she brushes over his shoulders, he straightens up at the touch and shows he’s ready to get back out there. It’s as if she prepared him to go.

Harry sings Lights Up and the crowd loves it. Sarah kills her drumming and Mitch eats up lead guitar. The backup singers bring out a different tone to the song. It is all around an amazing performance.

As Y/N clapped along with the crowd from backstage, Aidy Bryant approaches her.

“You’re Harry’s stylist, right?”

Y/N turns her head at the woman next to her, “Yeah?”

Aidy smiles, eyes slightly gleaming, “Well, you’re wonderful at your job.” As Y/N is about to thank her, Aidy continues, “And Harry knows that too, he talked about you all week. We all thought you were his girlfriend at first.”

Y/N laughed lightly and had to keep herself from letting her jaw drop at Aidy’s words. She even choked a bit on her own spit and had to cough slightly before even being able to think of a response, “Well, um, yeah...no, H, Harry is just my employer and...friend. No dating, we just get along well. Which is important since we spend a lot of time together - for work of course!”

Aidy smiled sweetly at Y/N, “Yeah, Harry explained that when Beck asked him how long you’d been together. At first he had said a couple months and then said ‘wait, Y/N is just my stylist, we’ve been working together for a couple months’ and then we all felt really dumb.”

“Don’t feel dumb,” Y/N reassured her, unsure why she was actually continuing this conversation, “He loves to talk about clothes and that’s where I fit in to his life, so I’m sure my name would come up a fair bit. Was that it?”

“Yeah I guess, but-” Aidy began to say more, but Y/N cut her off.

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry, but Harry’s finished and I’ve got to go help him change for his next song.”

Aidy was left in Y/N’s wake, chuckling to herself, fully reassured about the reason that they had all thought Harry had been dating Y/N. Because they already acted like a couple. And they were both helplessly in love with one another and neither of them knew.

The rest of the show went off without a hitch. Harry continued to wow the crowd and Y/N sent him off from his dressing room always looking fabulous. Just as he was about to walk back on stage for his final farewell, Y/N noticed a tiny string on his trousers zipper. Unable to stop Harry and unable to grab at the string without looking odd, she had to let him walk on stage with it. It wasn’t actually a big deal, but Y/N sighed in annoyance because she knew that string was going to bug her for the rest of the night.

“Treat People With Kindness!” Harry finishes off his farewell.

Applause begins to sound and the cast is out front hugging and chatting, while Y/N is watching from the side still fixated on the string on Harry’s pants, now simply dangling. Finally, they begin to clear the stage because it’s time for the after party. Y/N knew there was no stealing Harry away to fix the problem that was now fixated in her mind. Every cast and crew member was trying to talk to him, congratulating him, hugging him, anything to spend time with the incredible man. Y/N couldn’t blame them, but she also wanted to be able to go some place quiet and debrief with Harry about his outfits. She wanted to look up what people were saying about his clothes and discuss the critiques with Harry. She also wanted to start discussing what was coming next with Harry. But most of all, she just wanted to hang out with Harry.

What Y/N wanted wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, which she knew, but it still only grew her annoyance with that string. If only she could get it off of him, maybe then her mind would be able to relax a little.

She meandered backstage, resigned she wouldn’t be talking to Harry for a while. There she went to find the band’s dressing room, knowing she would find Mitch or Sarah who she’d be happy to talk to. They weren’t ones for the spotlight and no one ever really seemed to want to brownnose with them at events like this. Y/N had met them a few times.

The first was when Harry had asked Y/N to meet him in the studio in mid July, Mitch and Sarah had both been there helping Harry finish up something for the album. Y/N never asked what, she liked music quite a bit, but when it came to the technical part of it, it went completely over her head. Harry had introduced them both and they seemed lovely. After that, she had seen them around for an event or two of Harry’s. It wasn’t much, but it was more than any of the other people around right now.

Just as she was about to knock on the door it swung open, revealing Harry’s entire backing band. “Hey,” Y/N said sheepishly, “Harry’s being fawned over by the masses and I don’t actually know anyone else here. Is it alright if I hang out with you all at this after party? I doubt there’s going to be anyone really dying to meet the stylist.”

She smoothed her own clothes as she spoke. Y/N wanted to look professional tonight because sometimes when she was dressed in more fun or “young” clothes she got mistaken for someone who had snuck in. The only thing that got people to not question her authority to be where she was, was a card that read ‘staff’ that she would clip onto whatever she was wearing at places like this. Tonight, she chose a pair of purple plaid pants, a sleek lilac tank underneath a cream knit shawl, and cream Gucci mules.  Ever since Harry took an interest in Y/N’s pearl necklace, she had largely stopped wearing hers because she hoped never to be photographed matching with him. However, she had known the pearls would have completed the look, even putting them on in her hotel room, twisting a pearl in her hand as she looked in the mirror, and then taking the necklace off again and settling on a different silver necklace instead. The ‘staff’ card was clipped to her pants pocket tonight.

“Of course!” Sarah said as the band began to file out of the room, “You might want to take your tag off now, though, you’re done working for the night.”

Her laughter rang sweetly through Y/N’s ears and she smiled back before removing her identifying card. She hated the piece of plastic and was glad to take it off, it never went with her outfits, but she had gotten tired of taking out her business card every time someone asked what she was doing. Y/N was sure that during the tour she’d be fine without it, but as Harry’s show appearances were beginning to ramp up she knew it would be helpful to have.

“Thanks...you all were amazing out there tonight. Second time on the SNL stage right?”

The group of you began to walk in the direction of where the after party was being held. Mitch piped up, “Thanks. Yeah, I love their box stage setup, it’s pretty cool.” Y/N was happy that she had people who were easy to talk to so that she wouldn’t be alone tonight.

Arriving in the room of the party, they were all quick to grab the alcohol that was being provided at the pop up bar. Y/N wasn’t normally a fan of drinking at events like these, mainly because she was not usually invited to this part of the night and when she was she wanted to be alert. But she figured there wasn’t much else to do so she took a hearty sip of the champagne. It was a little sweet, her face scrunched.

“Too sweet?” Mitch questioned when he saw Y/N’s face.

“Just a little for my taste.”

“Harry’s not going to be drinking tonight then. So particular about his alcohol,” Mitch continued.

Y/N laughed, “Well I’m glad, then I don’t have to deal with him being a baby about his hangover tomorrow.”

Mitch quirked an eyebrow at Y/N’s statement. Sarah and the others in the band had dispersed to mingle with the SNL party goers, leaving Mitch and Y/N to their conversation.

Realizing what she said could be seen as slightly weird out of context, Y/N quickly started again, “because I’m supposed to go shopping with Harry tomorrow. He wanted to go to Gucci and a couple other stores here before flying to LA. I’m going back to London until the listening parties, so we need to figure out the finishing touches for those and..” Y/N trailed off trying to remember which looks weren’t completed yet for the next few shows, Mitch waited patiently, “a few of the suits for the Late Late Show. He’s not happy with one of them so we might switch it. But anyway, you know how he is with a hangover. Proper child.”

Mitch threw his head back in laughter at Y/N’s serious look that she gave him. “Yeah, he can be...a lot. I meant to tell you, Harry looked great tonight. All of the clothes were fantastic,” Mitch added.

He was kind and Y/N appreciated him sticking with her. The two of them had rested themselves against a wall near the bar, sipping their champagne and enjoying each other’s company.

“Thank you.”

Mitch opened his mouth to say something else, but Heidi Gardener, another SNL member interrupted.

“Y/N, right!?”

Y/N and Mitch both turn to her, equally taken aback by the sudden burst of energy from this person they didn’t really know. Y/N nodded.

“Oh my gosh! You have to tell me where you got the jacket Harry is wearing!”

Heidi even goes as far to point in Harry’s direction. Y/N knows what she’s talking about, but her eyes still wander to where she pointed. Harry stood in a clump of people, surrounded by Ben Winston, James Corden, and the Gerbers who had all come to watch. She sighed as she watched his eyes shine as he laughed with a smile on his face. She hoped that by now the string had fallen off his pants by now, if not she was going to kick herself later.

“Oh, it’s Bode,” Y/N’s eyes coming back to meet Heidi’s happy face, “but it’s custom made from a vintage blanket. There’s only two that exist.”

Y/N and Mitch watched as Heidi’s face dropped.

“And I’m pretty sure the designer owns the other one,” Y/N added, “Sorry.”

Heidi smiles and jokes, “Know any ways I could possibly get Harry to give me his?”

“He loves that coat. I have no idea what you could possibly do to convince him he didn’t need it anymore.”

“Sex, probably,” Mitch says under his breath.

Heidi doesn’t catch it as she walks back off and Y/N turns to swat him with her free hand.  

“What? He always gives away his clothes to girl’s he has crushes on.” Y/N rolls her eyes at Mitch’s words.

“Probably best if you don’t inform the masses about that,” a new voice says.

Unbeknownst to Mitch and Y/N, Harry had broken away from his entourage to steal a few minutes with his two friends, his best friends if he was being honest. They laugh together as he wraps his arms around their shoulders and pulls them both into his chest. Y/N feels the warmth radiating from Harry’s body as she snuggles into his side. Her hand wraps under his jacket and around his waist to squeeze right about his hip bone. His face is gleaming with a small sheen of sweat, but his smile is so big she barely notices his perspiration as he looks down at her.

“Heard you were talkin’ shit?”

Mitch quips, “Us? Never.”

Harry scoffs, “Come off it!”

When he releases Y/N and Mitch from his grasp, Mitch straightens up while Y/N’s eyes immediately go down to Harry’s crotch. She’s not paying attention to their conversation as she tries to make out in the dim light whether the string is gone or not. The men realize she’s not listening and they both follow her gaze.

Confused, Harry asks, “Y/N, any particular reason you’re staring at my dick?”

Her head shoots up, eyes wide and cheeks flushed from embarrassment.

“I wasn’t!”

Mitch laughs and decides he wants another glass of champagne right then, mumbling something about how that was his cue. Harry smiles, knowing she wasn’t doing what he had said, but still intrigued to know what was going on in her mind.

“You had a string right on your zipper and it’s been bugging me since you went out for your outro. This is the first time I’ve seen you on your own and I couldn't exactly go up to you in a random crowd and grab at your crotch. But now I can’t see in this light…” Y/N bit at her lower lip and furrowed her brow still trying to see if the string was there.

“Have you really been thinking about it this whole time?” Harry asked, slightly concerned.

“Yes...I know it doesn’t matter, but I just want your clothes to look perfect.”

Harry takes a deep breath as he makes a small smile at Y/N. Then he brushes over the front of his pants, hoping he removes the string if it's still attached to him. “There, I’m sure it’s gone now. I’m sorry you had to worry about that. Just know everyone I’ve talked to has been raving about the clothes.” He placed his ring-clad hand on Y/N’s upper arm and squeezed it.

“You did an amazing job,” Y/N said.

Harry pulls her into his chest one more time. This time without Mitch so both of Harry’s arms go around her shoulders and both of hers go around his slender waist. Again her hands disappear under his coat and thumb over his warm white t-shirt, her face resting on his chest right next to the word ‘Sex’. His arms tighten around her back as they rest there for a while. Y/N always has to make herself pull away, knowing that Harry will stay there for as long as he can - in anyone’s embrace - and remembering they’re in a public setting, she didn’t want anyone to assume things, even if she had already been made aware that people had.

“We’ll debrief more later tonight, yeah? The champagne is terrible so I won’t be drinking,” Harry said.

Y/N laughed under her breath as she smiled at his words. Mitch and her knew Harry too well. She nodded about getting together later, “Alright. Get back to your fan club.” Harry narrowed her eyes at her words, not sure if she was trying to sound sarcastic or not.

-

Hey, I’m back at the hotel. Just let me know when you want to debrief :) x

Y/N texted Harry the minute she got back to the hotel, she had no idea if he had left before her or was still at the after party. All she knew was that it was late and she was starting to get tired. Still, it was important for them to talk about their plans for tomorrow and she also really wanted to just be with him alone. Whenever they would debrief after big events Harry and Y/N would laugh at all the outrageous stuff they had seen go on throughout the night.

When she was still a freelance stylist she had helped Harry to plan his Camp outfit at the Met Gala. That night, they never even went to bed and had to debrief about the clothes the next afternoon over tea at the Palace. Both her and Harry were recovering from their exhaustion and nursing equally terrible hangovers. But there they were, sitting in the center of the dining area of the hotel, being served some of the nicest tea and sandwiches Y/N had ever had. It was amazing. Y/N had never felt that rich in her life before and Harry had told her the craziest stories about the most famous people in attendance. It was almost unbelievable what these people would reveal to Harry and Y/N was happy to listen to all of it, promising to never tell anyone else. That outing was probably the first time Harry realized he really liked Y/N and wanted to work more closely with her.

While tonight wasn’t quite as wild as the Met Gala had been, Y/N was still excited to hear any funny stories Harry might have in addition to their clothing talk. They really hadn’t had much time to chat since she had gotten to New York yesterday so it would be nice to just be alone together. Even if Y/N chalked their debriefs up to ‘shop talk’, she was always very excited for them.

As she reached her hotel room door, her phone buzzed with a message from Harry.

I’m still out, but should be heading back soon. Up to you if you want to wait up or we can just debrief in the morning while we shop. x H  

Y/N sighed at the message, she wanted to wait up and debrief before tomorrow, if not for alone time with Harry but professionally for being able to plan out their shopping tomorrow. Where Harry was carefree, Y/N was meticulous and planned out. She liked to have fun, but she knew when she had to get her work done, even when Harry was off in his own mind. Their work styles mostly coincided, Harry could be serious and focused, too, but often when he was surrounded by all his famous friends he had a hard time saying ‘no’ to whatever came up. So Y/N knew that Harry’s definition of ‘soon’ could range from actually soon to almost dawn. She really hoped he actually meant soon, so she shot him a text saying:

Just knock on my room and if I open it we can debrief lol x

Harry smiled down at his phone when Y/N’s text came through, slightly chuckling before double tapping and placing a heart reaction of her text. Then he was pulled into the limo that one of his friend’s had gotten them and was handed a flute of champagne.

Back at the hotel, Y/N threw her phone on the bed and decided to change and simply settle in for the night. If Harry made it back, he made it back and if he didn’t she’d wake up well rested.

Maybe thirty minutes into scrolling on her phone, Y/N heard a rough knock on her door. She was actually quite surprised that Harry had indeed been back soon. Rising from her snuggled place in the bed, she shifted around her night clothes and padded to her door. There stood, rather hung, a slightly disheveled Harry. His hair was whipped into disaster, something was smudged on his face, and she noticed a stain on his t-shirt that hadn’t been there the last time she’d been with him.

He slurred her name as he stumbled through the doorway. Y/N closed her eyes and sighed in exasperation. She was in awe that somehow Harry hadn’t gotten off his ass in the past hour and a half.

“What happened to not drinking tonight?”

She walked beside him and helped shove him into a sitting position on her bed. He flapped his arms, chaotically trying to get his plaid jacket off. Throwing her phone in the direction of her pillow, she moved to help Harry with his jacket. After quite a bit of strugglings, Y/N finally got the Bode jacket off of him successfully and threw it onto the nearby chair. Sighing, she settled beside him.

“So, Harry, care to explain?”

“Hi, Y/N…” He swayed slightly, attempting to face Y/N more. She threw out a hand to his shoulder, gripping him tightly to try and steady him.

“We went in this limousine, and they had champagne - good champagne - and I drank a bottle or so pretty quickly.”

“Or so? Oh Harry...I mean you’re free to make your own choices, but I don’t know if this was one of your best.”

“Wasn’t...wasn’t my idea. I was planning on just going back to the hotel. Then James convinced me to come out for a bit. Then the champagne was looking good so I went for it.”

“Like I said, you can make your own choices,” she patted his arm and went to the en suite bathroom to wet a washcloth to clean off his face.

“So, is it champagne on your shirt or am I going to have to go through hell to get the stain out?” She called.

Harry groaned and leaned back on the bed, fingering at the crisp white sheets. “Champagne,” he finally muttered as Y/N reappeared into the dim room, only the outside world and the light in the bathroom lighting this area.

“And on the face?”

She climbed onto the bed and kneeled beside Harry’s prone body, beginning to swipe at the smudge on his face. He tilted his head to face her, bringing the cheek with the dirt to lay facing perfectly up. His jawline showed perfectly and she felt the strength that laid beneath the skin she was washing.

His eyes flitted up to her face, trying to stop the spins he was currently experiencing. He hadn’t thought he was that drunk until he had been required to find his way up to their floor on his own.

“Lipstick?”

She sighed, running the washcloth over his cheek once more, and tried to push the image of some woman (or man who wore lipstick, she guessed) with her lips all over Harry’s face. She didn’t want to know who it was or why it was. It was too hard, especially after the day of people asking her about Harry and her relationship and insinuating things about him and his romantic life. She just liked to keep the words Harry and romance apart as much as possible, it made her life easier that way.

“It was only from-”

“It’s ok, Harry, I don’t need to know who you were…” She stopped herself, not even wanting to say ‘kissing’ or ‘snogging’ or even worse ‘shagging’. Adults were human beings and they could do a lot in an hour and a half. And again, she didn’t want to know.

“You keep doing that. Are you mad at me?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Calling me Harry, not ‘H’. Is it because you’re mad at me?”

“No,” she sighed, shifting to sit more casually, “No, I’m not mad at you. I just wasn’t expecting you to show up at my door like this. I try not to worry about you, but then when you show up like this, it kind of affirms I had reason to be concerned.”

She took a hand and smoothed over Harry’s tousled hair, he rolled his head back to face the ceiling. “Like I said, you’re an adult, capable of making his own decisions. And, I am just your stylist. I’m just glad you made it up here and knocked on my door. Probably would have given someone else a fright.”

He laughed, starting to sober up as the spinning in the room stopped. Her hands on his face and hair were soothing and sobering.

“Thank you for caring about me, love. And going beyond being just my stylist, you’re my friend Y/N.”

His eyes flickered shut and Y/N stared at his soothed features. His words were still slurred and she was sure the use of love was just his britishness slipping through his drunken state. The part about being more than a stylist, she tried to push it away, telling herself not to read more into it than her heart would like to. Even though he said she was a friend as well as a stylist and not anything more, it still sent so much joy through her body. He didn’t just see her as a work colleague and he had said it. But in his inebriated state, Y/N didn’t want to take everything he said as gospel.

She moved him up the bed with a little bit of his sleepy self’s help into a more comfortable position. It was pretty late now and she wasn’t going to kick him out. It would have been rude and unkind and that were two things Y/N rarely was. She went and grabbed the extra blanket from the cabinet and draped it over Harry’s large body for extra warmth since he refused to get under the covers. She also slipped off his boots and stained shirt per his request before getting into the other side of the bed and falling asleep.

-

She awoke to a shifting body beside her and she sat up confused as to who it could be. Quickly, Harry showing up drunk at her door came flooding back and she turned to look at the groaning Harry beside her. His arm was thrown over his face as he moaned, just waking up as well and experiencing the first bits of his hangover. This was going to be a long day.

“Hullo,” his voice was especially low, groggy and hoarse from the night before. He peaked over at her from behind the crook of his elbow. His eyelids barely open and his eyelashes weighing them down so much so that she could barely see his sleepy jade eyes.

“Good morning, H. Have a nice rest?” Y/N sat up and began to ready herself for the day, rummaging through her suitcase for an outfit and moving about the room.

Harry’s arms went to his sides as he worked to sit up, eyes following her figure as she moved around, seemingly not groggy very much unlike him. “Erm...I’m sorry for showing up pissed.”

“S’fine, H. Just glad you didn’t end up in a ditch or someone’s bed - someone’s that you might regret…” She barely regards him, throwing a single glance his way before shuffling to the bathroom to change. She knows they’ll be photographed today, it’s almost inevitable right now. Everyone knows Harry is in New York and people are buzzing to see him after his performance last night. She slips on the 70s inspired dress, the v-neck and long sleeves settling perfectly on her frame, it hugs her curves and lands around mid-thigh. Rolling on the bold mustard yellow tights and strapping up the brown leather mary jane heels, she looks herself over in the mirror. She then tries to tame her hair and do the rest of her routine, knowing she needed to get on with the day, shopping first and flying home second. Making sure Harry was okay was also on that list, but she couldn’t pretend like she wasn’t a little disappointed in him after last night.

When she returns, Harry is sitting with his legs hanging off the edge of the bed, head hanging as he’s hunched over himself. “C’mon, you gotta get going, kid. Lots to do today.” She’s pacing over to Harry’s deflated figure to pick him up and prompt him to get moving. When she arrives by his side his head lifts and his now more awake eyes stare up at her.

“I’m sorry for yesterday, really. I mean it.”  

“I told you already. It’s fine.”

“It’s not - or it wasn’t. You called me ‘Harry’ last night. I don’t think I’ve heard you call me that to my face since we started working together. I took your answer last night because I was swimming in it, but now, thinking about it. I know you were upset.”

She huffs, taking a seat beside Harry on the bed, choosing to not look at him, slightly confused why she had been so upset and why he was pushing it. “Ok, yeah I was annoyed, but I was also genuinely worried. I didn’t know you could physically get that drunk in that small amount of time. And then you show up at my door with somebody else’s…” Y/N falters, catching her slip up and deciding to fix her gaze on her shoes and their intricate design built into the leather.

“You’re upset that I had lipstick on me?” He’s trying to meet Y/N’s gaze, but her eyes are really interested in her shoes. His tone is confused, he’s trying to understand what’s going on in her mind.

She scoffs, risking a glance to Harry but then returns quickly back to her dress this time. “Please...it was just inconvenient for me, okay? Thought we were going to debrief and stayed up late for you. Then I had to take care of you after you hung out with your famous pals and I had barely even seen you all day. Felt a bit used.”

Harry shifted in the bed, turning to face her by tucking one leg beneath him. He places a hand on hers that was placed on the end of her dress. Her eyes finally meet with his and she feels her breath slightly catch in her throat. His eyes are piercing, his gaze intense, maybe even a tinge of anger. “Y/N, I would never have come to your room if I even had an inkling that this would be how you’d interpret it . Even though I was drunk, I wanted to see you, that’s why I came up here, because I wanted to be with my friend, one of my best friends, not because I just needed some pushover to care for me.”

She sighs, feeling icky still about the whole situation. She sometimes found herself in fights that she never intended, she wished she hadn’t said anything at all. But she also knew that wasn’t healthy either. Flipping her hand, she intertwines her fingers with Harry’s and smiles for the first time that morning. His expression softens at it. “Look, I’m sorry too, H. It honestly wasn’t that big of a deal, but I appreciate that you’re such a great guy and boss to want to truly apologize and make sure I’m comfortable and happy… Oh, and I promise I’ll never call you anything but H from here on out - unless you tell me otherwise.”

He cackles unabashedly at her words, before suddenly clutching at his temple with his free hand. “Fuckin’ hangover,” he mumbles. She smiles and stands up, beginning to throw his shirt and shoes from the end of the bed at him, “You need to get ready. Go pop some advil or whatever. My flights at 5 so we haven’t got all day, H.”

“There she is,” Harry grins, beginning to put back on the stained ‘Sex’ shirt.

As he hustles out of the room, shoes in hand, she calls to him one last request, “When you’re in fresh clothes make sure you bring me that stained shirt. Gonna have to spot clean it when I’m back in London!”

“Of course! And we’ll debrief as we shop, yeah?”

“Yes!”

The two of them were shouting to each other as the door continued to close on them. Chuckling to herself, she begins to pack up her room, knowing she had to check out before they left. Her spirits already lifted, she doesn’t even notice as she throws Harry’s forgotten Bode jacket into her suitcase with some other items that had been on her chair. She wouldn’t notice it until she was back in London unpacking from the trip.

Shutting the case, she springs back up from her crouched position and walks to look in the full length mirror again. Her fingers run the length of her dress, leafing over the slightly darker brown embroidered flowers that were woven into the tan fabric. She squints as she turns sideways and pops a heel up behind her. It looks good, but something is missing. Rummaging through her carry-on she pulls out her old butterfly bandana she used as a head scarf and begins to fix it into place on her head. Placing large sunglasses on the bridge of her nose, she feels like the look is complete and gives herself some poses in the mirror; a peace sign, an air kiss, a Marilyn Monroe. She laughs at herself.

A knock on the door shakes her from her childish fun. Straightening up, Y/N saunters over to the door, swinging it open with ease. “H?”

“You ready?” Harry stands in a fresh pair of Marni trousers paired with a striped orange and mauve Marni sweater. He, like Y/N, had this thing about wearing the brand you planned to shop at. He didn’t always stick to his rule, but he usually didn’t like to wear Gucci when he shopped at Gucci.

“Yeah, just need to check out and drop my baggage at the front to be held for later.” Y/N slips through the door and notes how his outfit compliments hers. She wouldn’t mention it, but it's something to think about since he had known what she was wearing. She wasn’t sure why she noticed things like that, if asked, her answer would probably be that it was the stylist in her, just her job.

-

Stepping out of a black town car on the side street next to Gucci to go in the side entrance would never get old for Y/N. She had never really enjoyed the idea of fame, but from a young age she had known she wanted to be able to afford the finer things in life. Going into the Gucci store now, especially with Harry, was like going to the candy store once you’re a grown up and can buy whatever you want rather than what your parents will allow you to.

Today, Harry and Y/N didn’t have as much time as they would usually like to spend in the store, but they were just happy to be doing what they loved. Y/N had been ecstatic to find out Harry found shopping to be an essential part of his life and that he liked to do his outfit shopping in person rather than online. Trying on clothes and picking out things you liked just was so much more fulfilling when you were in the physical store. Then make that all happen with Harry Styles as the buyer, then it was a real party. The stores liked to pull out their Champagne and clear the store to allow him privacy, specifically when it was for clothes for projects under wraps. In the beginning of her employment, it was only ever Harry who would do the trying on of clothes, but as the two of them got acquainted and comfortable with each other, she found herself trying things Harry would pick out for her. At first, she would veto some items saying they were too expensive for her, but eventually she learned that her new salary covered whatever it was. She had always enjoyed designer labels and choosing to be a stylist meant she had nice clothes, but only working for Harry had caused her closet to double in size and triple in value.

“So we are looking for some trousers today,” she tells the worker at the store, reminding them of what she had already called ahead about. The employee nods and proceeds to lead them into the room where they had laid out an assortment of pants for Harry to pick from.

“What do you think of these?” Harry walks out and strikes a pose, popping one of his hips to the side and his hands on his hips. The pants strain around his thighs, but fit practically perfectly everywhere else. His slim waist is perfectly encircled by the fabric and he’s decided the sweater he was wearing didn’t match them and he’d rather go shirtless. This choice technically should allow her to solely focus on the pants, but it actually makes her focus that much more diverted. She makes a spinning motion with her pointer finger as she purses her lips. He takes a quick spin and the boot cut slightly flares with his movement. The pants are a dark brown with a single plaid crossing in a lighter brown. They are only lightly flared, which she prefered to the extreme flare that some of Harry’s suits had. She narrows her eyes at the pants to keep her gaze from shifting to the taut muscles of Harry’s arms and torso or the dark ink that licked over his skin in the beautiful designs of his choice.

“They’re nice,” she pulls up a picture of the top part of the outfit he was planning on wearing, “Do you think they match with this though?” Harry walks over to her seated position and bends to look at her phone. His skin radiates heat and the smell of his cologne and she sniffles slightly with her sensitive nose. His eyes flicker to her face when he notices her little noise, but returns to looking at the phone when she doesn’t spare him a glance. She felt his gaze on her, but couldn’t bring herself to look from the phone. She knew his proximity would make it even harder for her to keep her eyes off his naked torso. The expensive smell of Harry mixed with the expensive smell of the store was a lot to handle.

“Yeah...no. You think they’re not right,” she widens her eyes at Harry’s words when he pulls away. He turns to the mirror in the open dressing room and fiddles with the waistline of the pants. “I agree,” he finishes before stalking back into the room and shutting the heavy velvet curtain that worked as the door to it.

He tries on five more pairs of trousers and finally settles on two pairs for the two different listening parties. A heavier, wool-tweed pair that was dark brown and then a lighter brown tweed pair. He was still in the lighter pants as he stared into the mirror. He beckoned to Y/N, and she quickly set down the flute of Champagne she had been sipping at lazily as he admired himself.

“Is it possible for you to take it in a bit more,” he says in a hushed tone to her, not wanting the workers to overhear. They were helpful but if they overheard they would wait for the store to tailor the trousers and he preferred for Y/N to do it. He rubs at the waistline again and she moves closer, her hands going to his sides. Her fingertips graze the naked skin above the trousers and Harry shivers at the coldness of the new touch. She ghosts softly over the waistline herself and smooths the fabric until she’s pinching a small amount on each side. She hums, pulling back from Harry and looking at the fit of them now, examining whether that makes them look better.

Then she nods and smiles up at Harry, “Ever the slender waist,” he grins right back as she admires him. She knew how much he liked praise and she was happy to give it to him, especially when he was so deserving. “I’d say size down, but then your thighs and bum might strain the fabric too much.” His face turns to a smirk as she blushes at her words. She releases the fabric and takes a hand to pat Harry’s smooth chest before walking back to her seat on the lovely couch.

“You sure you don’t want to try anything on, Y/N? Saw some killer boots when we walked in that screamed you.” Harry calls from behind the curtain, presumably getting redressed. Her laugh comes through the curtain slightly muffled, yet still a sweet melody in Harry’s ears.

“Definitely not now, we’re leaving any minute. Plus, I’ve got plenty of Gucci boots, don’t even show me them or I’ll be tempted.”

His laughter rings through the curtains, loud and unrestrained. She smiles to herself, unable to discourage the pleasure that weaves through her at the sound. His presence in all the different ways she experienced it was instantly comforting.

-

When she arrives back to her London flat, she practically flops on her couch once she’s inside the door. Her luggage forgotten at the door, as she shrugs off her coat. It was around 7 am because she had chosen to take the red eye for some reason. She groaned as she thought about the day ahead of her. Even though Harry was halfway across the globe, she still had plenty of work to do. She had to finalize the outfits for the listening parties now that they had the pants to complete the looks. Then she had to start thinking about Harry’s December appearances. She had sent ahead his Late Late outfits that he had needed in Los Angeles for the pre-filming, but she still had to deal with the outfits for the live part of the show.

Today, she was set to go pick up the other pieces needed for the listening parties as well as items for the Graham Norton Show and Jingle Ball. She was most excited for her travels because that meant looking at brand new clothes that were perfect and gorgeous. She also knew she needed to spot clean Harry’s shirt, which didn’t spark as much joy in her tired mind.

The idea of the shirt staining with alcohol was what brought her out of her snuggling with her comfy couch. Sure, it couldn’t get that bad, but still she was a worrier and it would pain her if the iconic shirt got ruined. She padded back over to her luggage, now without her jacket or shoes. Her major suitcase got flipped on its side and she began to unzip it. It came open easily seeing as it was stuffed with her clothes and various items. She had to rummage a minute for Harry’s shirt that seemed to have run away inside the bag. Finally, the large white shirt made itself known and she grasped it happily.

As she looked over the stain near the collar of the shirt, her eyes traveled to a piece of fabric peeking out of her suitcase. It was a familiar blue, cream and white. A specific fabric she would never misplace, would never not recognize. Harry’s plaid Bode jacket. It was iconic and she loved it, but why did she have it in her suitcase. She definitely didn’t mean to have it, it’s genuinely just one of Harry’s jackets so it wouldn’t make sense for her to bring it back with the show's wardrobe. She tries to think back to yesterday, when she was still in New York. Thinking about why she would have it, she places the memories of Harry coming to her room, taking off his coat, and accidentally leaving it in her room all fit together. She must have just absentmindedly placed it in her suitcase without even realizing. She’s sure Harry wouldn’t mind, she’d shoot him a text, though, to tell him she had it. So he wouldn’t worry about whether he’d lost it or not.

When she gets ready for the day, she finds herself being drawn to blue and cream. Her outfit is understated and she just knows the jacket would finish the look. She loved that jacket and now that she had it, would it be a big deal if she wore it out. She figured it was fine. After she grabbed her purse, keys, and other essentials, she slipped on the coat. Harry was very broad shouldered and it hung oversized on her. She loved the look and snapped a selfie in the mirror before she headed out. While it felt a little narcissistic to constantly take photos of herself, she felt like as a stylist it was important to document her looks just as much as she documented her clients.

What she didn’t think about is just how much the rest of the world liked to document her client and those who were seen with her client. She didn’t think about how she had just been seen with Harry yesterday. That thought didn’t even cross her mind as she walked around the streets of London picking up her work. As she saw some photographers out and about (whom she assumed were for famous celebrities, not her). How it might seem with her wearing the Bode jacket Harry had worn on SNL two nights ago. The Bode jacket that there were only two of.

None of it crossed her mind. Not until it was the end of the day and she had a whole slew of texts from Harry’s manager. A few from Harry, and others but the other fifteen were solely from Jeff. She was a bad texter so as she walked into her flat and finally looked at her phone after putting down all of her garment bags her eyes went wide.

Please tell me you’re not out in London right now!

What are you wearing??

That cannot be Harry’s jacket Y/N

Seriously?

Please call me.

CALL ME. NOW.

      - All from Jeff.

She grimaced. The others from her friends including Harry would have to be ignored right now. Even if Harry was her boss, Jeff was who she had to deal with when it came to public appearances and it didn’t seem like she could get around this one. Normally, she never had to deal with him, but it seems today wasn’t normal.

- 

part 2

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #smut soon #part 1 #harrys stylist right? #agh pls enjoy im so nervous #feedback is needed or ill be sad #hopefully you enjoy #lmk!!

[votederpycausemufins]

i can’t stop writing!

@petrichormeraki

“Fundy? Are you in here?” Iskall called out. Rendog landed next to the redstoner, weapon drawn as a precaution. 

Fundy did speak, but not as a response to Iskall. “No! Tubbo don’t!” From nearby, Tubbo jumped at the other pair in a panic to defend himself. Ren blocked the attack and disarmed Tubbo quickly as he wasn’t fully prepared for a battle. “Tubbo, they’re on our side!”

“They are?” Tubbo asked, refusing to look away from Iskall and Ren.

“Yeah.” Iskall spoke up, making sure to hold his hands up and hold no weapon. “I’m friends with Fundy. I’ve helped him in the past with his redstone.”

Tubbo hazarded a glance towards Fundy who gave a reassuring nod and Tubbo relaxed just a little bit. “Tommy’s told us about you. Said you’re best friends?”

Tubbo looked back to Iskall. “He said that? But I exiled him! I didn’t even visit him when I could have.”

“Tommy doesn’t blame you for that.” Ren spoke up, making Tubbo jump a little at the new voice. “Maybe he did when he first got here, but he gets that it was more Dream’s fault then yours. You should see his place.”

“Oh yeah!” Iskall said, lighting up a little. “He’s not far from here. Tommy set up his tower between Grian and Ren in the mesa. Refused to let any of us help. He grew up so fast.”

“Then can we go over there? I want to see Tommy and talk with him!” Tubbo was nearly bouncing around at the thought of seeing his friend again.

“Well, we can go over there, but Tommy’s probably in the middle of the fight.” Ren responded. “Though I’m sure he’d want to keep you safe.”

“And I’d rather not get Fundy mixed up in everything if he doesn’t have to be.” Iskall added. Though Fundy seemed to disagree.

“If Tommy is out there fighting, we want to help. He’s our friend.”

Iskall and Ren looked at each other, having a silent conversation with expressions before Ren sighed. “Alright, fine. We’ll take you back to the shopping district and-”

There was a large crack of thunder and Tubbo was left trembling. Ren and Fundy covered their ears from the sudden noise while Iskall looked for the source. When he saw the cloudy sky above with a purple glow in the distance, he knew what was going on, having seen the same scene once before. “Oh no… Grian…”

Rendog’s ears were ringing a little too much for him to hear Iskall, so he yelled a ‘what?’ before seeing the sky as well. “That’s… not good.”

Fundy recovered enough to comfort Tubbo and then turned to Iskall. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

“Change of plans. We’re staying here. Everyone else is in the shopping district, so if things go wrong…” Iskall trailed off.

“Then we’re the recovery team.” Ren finished the thought.

Tubbo, who was still rattled by the sound, still managed to push himself mostly past it. “Wh-what do you mean? Is T-Tommy going to be okay?”

Iskall, who had the most experience with Grian’s trouble with being a Watcher, seemed hesitant about his answer, but did give it. “Well, I think Tommy might actually be the safest one out there, though it’s still dangerous.”

“Then we need to go help!” Tubbo said, giving no chance for anyone to stop him as he ran out of the tree. Fundy quickly followed, and Ren and Iskall after him after they unfroze from their surprise. 

“Ren, Fundy, how about you two stay behind. We should have at least someone as an emergency team. I don’t want Tubbo going alone and I doubt we can do anything to stop him. I’m also not letting him head out there alone and I’m the one who knows the most about this.”

Ren Tried to argue, but Iskall shut him down. “Right, Fundy, let’s stay back.” The fox looked sadly at Ren, but relented and stayed back with him. Iskall started getting his wings ready to fly, but saw Tubbo had none of his own, so instead they headed to the nether portal.

Hermits surrounded the crater, weapons drawn. They created a wall of armor that protected their previous enemy. Mumbo took a risk and slid down to try and pull Technoblade away, but the piglin warrior refused to budge. With that out the window and no easy way out, Mumbo tried to reason with his friend. “Grian, calm down, you saved Tommy. You don’t need to be a Watcher right now.” Murmuring came from the opposing army. A few of them had heard of Watchers but never seen one. 

Grian cocked his head to one side, staring Mumbo down with all but one of his eyes, the last one continuing to watch Techno. Mumbo tried once more to move Techno, but he stood firm, causing Mumbo’s foot to slip. The sudden movement and noise made Grian’s feathers ruffle and Mumbo froze completely. Grian then moved his hand toward Tommy and Techno jumped to attack with a new weapon, only for it to shatter as well. The Watcher started to stand up only for the Hermits at his back to first arrows at him. He screeched in pain, focusing on his attackers and turning away from Techno and Mumbo.

Techno moved first, getting to Tommy’s side and starting to pull him away. Being so close Grian immediately noticed and attempted to attack, but Mumbo moved in front of the warrior and put his shield up, deflecting the attack. The expression on Grian’s face almost looked hurt as Techno escaped with Tommy and climbed up out of the crater with one hand.

Tommy started to wake up just as Techno reached Phil. The former king took his son from Techno’s arms and held him close. Dream smiled down at Tommy, glad to have his pawn return to the board. As a Watcher, Grian saw it all. He flapped his wings, using his Watcher magic to strengthen the effects and create a windstorm around him and everyone nearby. 

Scar and Cub were blown away by the wind as they still sported their vex wings which caught the wind easily. Philza also had to be held down for the same reason. As the wind whipped around, Grian flew into the air and launched himself at Philza and began to parrot Techno once more.

“How dare you defile the Blood God!” Techno yelled, ready to defend his family. But Grian didn’t stop, landing next to them. He looked at his father and brothers, noting one was missing.

“Someone’s missing” The Watcher hissed out. “And we saw he isn’t dead anymore. Your admin revived him.”

Tommy stared up at what Grian had become. The six purple eyes were now accompanied by a mouth full of pointed teeth and his hair has seemed to have turned into feathers. He was also taller and his feet were changed into talons. Tommy wasn’t sure how much was just how Watchers looked and how much was an emphasization of Grian’s avian self, but no matter what, Grian’s current state was terrifying.

Tommy tried to escape his dad’s arms, but Phil refused to let him go. Dream moved to stand between Tommy and Grian which made him even more upset about being unable to move. “How about we leave while we still can. We rescued Tommy. Let these Hermits deal with their own problems.”

Phil nodded and was starting to move before Tommy writhed in his arms. “No! I don’t want to go back! I need to help Grian!”

“Tommy, they just kept you trapped here and wouldn’t let you see your friends and family. Tubbo lifted your exile and I did everything to find a way to give you a path home. Don’t you remember all the time I spent with you? Think of this as paying me back for-”

“You’re not my friend Dream.” Tommy cut his former admin off, finally escaping Philza’s arms. “You never were. And if you were, I wouldn’t need to pay you back for just being with me. And you!” Tommy looked at his brother. “I kept trying to trust you, tried to get my brother back, but you won’t stop listening to the voices. And dad…” Tommy looked at Philza, but couldn’t get the words out. “I… I... “

Philza was knocked down and pinned under Grian’s foot. “No more Empire for you. Ice and snow don’t really fit with birds anyway, now do they.”

Philza grabbed the foot on his chest and tried to push it off him, but instead the talons just dug deeper into his chest. “Leave my son alone!” He gritted out, just making Grian laugh.

“Leave him alone? Like what you did? Abandoned him out in the middle of nowhere? I guess Techno really was the favorite. Or will you lose him as well?”

Philza managed to pull out his sword and slash it against Grian. It didn’t break, but the durability fell a dangerous amount. Angrily, Grian pushed his foot down harder on Philza, making the man wheeze. When others tried to step forward to help, corrupted parrot wings pushed them away.

“You abandoned one son, let another die, and lost the third to time.” Grian taunted and Philza’s face went white.

“Thi- y-you know what happened to-?”

“The Watchers had plenty of fun with him.” Grian answered, not directly answering that he was the third child and not giving up that he was still alive.

Techno’s eyes blazed with fury and attacked Grian. “You took him?!”

Grian just laughed and dodged the attacks. Tommy realized the avian was just toying with him. It reminded him of what Dream did. In a panic, Tommy put down his shulker box. A number of SMP members looked at it greedily, even amongst the current chaos. Tommy opened it up and pulled out two things, a jukebox, and a music disc. Tommy didn’t know if it would work, but he hoped that based on how Grian was acting, there were enough parrot instincts in there that he would listen.

He placed down the jukebox and inserted the disc, remembering it was one of Grian’s favorites. Erupting out of the speakers of the jukebox game was a laugh of a certain hermit which immediately pulled the Watcher’s attention. The jukebox then proceeded to play one of the songs for Mumbo’s mayoral campaign, and Grian stopped what he was doing and started dancing to the song.

Immediately Hermits raced towards Grian, pulling leads out and tying him up. He almost escaped when the song ended, but Tommy quickly put in the second of the two songs. After switching between the two a few times, the Hermits were able to completely tie Grian up.

Tommy put his jukebox and discs away and then picked up his shulker box before trying to go to Grian, but was grabbed by Philza. “Tommy, stay away from him.”

Tommy tried to argue, but then there was another shout. “TOMMY!”

Tommy turned, looking for the shout. “Tubbo?” Before he could notice his best friend in the crowd, Tubbo tackled him. There was an angry noise from Grian and he attempted escape, but stopped when laughter rang out from the reunited pair. “Tubbo I missed you so much!”

“Are you okay? Fundy took us to a friend of his here and then there was an explosion. They said you would be in the middle of it.”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine.” Tommy gave a small laugh. “No way Big G would hurt me.”

“Big G? Did you replace me?” Tubbo looked genuinely hurt until Tommy hugged him.

“I would never. You’re my best friend and nothing will change that.”

“That’s wonderful!” Tommy froze as Dream spoke, fully remembering the situation he was in. “Now that everything is sorted, we can go back home.”

“Not a chance, green bitch.” Tommy half growled at his old tormenter. “I’m staying here.” He almost pulled out his weapon, ready to attack when he noticed something else. “Tubbo, do you have seeds?”

“Uh, yeah, Fundy and I went through a jungle and it was a pain to get through all the foliage. Why?” Tommy held his hand out and Tubbo handed him the seeds.

“Hey G! Look what I got!” Tommy shouted and then held up the seeds. Since the music worked, he assumed this would as well. He was right when Grian’s eyes landed on the treat and seemed to light up. Nearby, Philza wiped away just a little bit of drool and shook his head, still recovering from nearly being crushed to death.

“Well would you look at that Dream, I can control the Watcher. And not just any Watcher, right?” Tommy gave a smug smile, having heard the play by play of Grian becoming the Dreamslayer many a time.

A few of those from the smp gasped as Dream actually dropped his weapon and surrendered. It was something no one thought would happen, especially at Tommy’s hand. Tommy put the seeds away and behind him Iskall and Mumbo started to work on calming Grian down. 

After he started down Dream a bit longer, Tommy grabbed Tubbo’s hand and pulled him over to Grian. “Big T, meet Big G. He doesn’t normally look like this though, but he does look pretty pog right now.” Tubbo asked if Grian really hadn’t hurt Tommy. “Of course, he’s too much of a charrot and is super protective of me.”

With Tommy’s back turned, Dream tried one last time to grab him. The second he started to move, all the leads snapped and Grian moved to the same point. He brought down an axe and hit Dream in the face, shattering the mask he wore. “I don’t think I got any blood yet.” Grian smiled. Tommy was scared for a moment of losing his brother more, but actually noticed him returning back to normal. “Blood for the Blood God and all that.”

The changes stopped for a moment as purple energy swirled around Dream. He covered his face, expecting to be slain, but no death arrived. The energy dissipated and then Grian finally turned back to normal and collapsed to the ground laughing weakly. “I’m… so glad I kept tabs on you guys.”

Tommy tried to hug Grian but he was beaten by Mumbo getting their first. “Okay! Fine! I get it! Best friends over family.” Tommy joked and then hugged Tubbo. “I can do that too.”

Philza and Techno attempted to approach Tommy, but Grian opened a wing and then pulled Tommy and Tubbo to his side. “Don’t hurt him.”

“Dad, I just explained this to Tubbo. He’s not gonna hurt me.” Tommy complained with a bit of a whine.

Philza wasn’t convinced. “Tommy, I heard what he said. He’s a Watcher, and they killed your brother.”

“He got better!” Tommy retorted immediately, not really thinking the response out. Grian doubled over laughing at it.

“It’s not some joke!” Phil said sternly, making Tommy freeze. Grian stopped hugging Mumbo and stepping in front of Tommy. He was unsteady on his feet and feeling exhausted, but nevertheless, he stood there.

“Xelqua lives.” Grian spoke, making Phil’s eyes widen. “Only thing the Watchers did was mess with him. Then they gave him an offer to join them. Oh, he also changed his name to Grian.”

Philza looked Grian up and down, trying to see if he was lying. And then the words actually registered in his brain. “Xelqua?”

“Hey dad.”

#hermit!tommy au #grian #grian xelqua #watcher!grian #tubbo #iskall #rendog #itsfundy #dreamwastaken #philza #technoblade #mumbo jumbo #tommyinnit #still not a fan of how dream's persona eminates someone... problematic

[syubub]

Yoongi birthday reading/energy check!!

It's sweet sweet tangerine bois birthday!!

I wanted to do a cute little energy check up to see what's up and ask some fun little questions!!

I'm excited so let's just do this shit!!

Disclaimer: this is for entertainment purposes and not to be taken as fact!!

---

I want to apologize for the absolute shit pictures but what's new lol

So, let's start with the platform. First thing I noticed was the blue was brighter but the platform was darker? It was like someone cranked up the contrast to 100. Ngl it looked pretty cool. Yoongis platform doesn't typically have a barrier like some of the others do so I just kinda walked in and did the whole, "happy birthday, I have questions" His energy seemed a lot more... vibrant? And playful I guess? It was really nice. Now. The actual connection was intresting because the cord was blue again and like, real thick. (I don't think my perceived thickness of the cord has and real correlation with how strong the connection is. It was just thicc) this time though, the cord was connected at the chest instead of the third eye. So i was like, ??? But my guide didn't give my any sort of helpful input (my guide likes to watch me suffer in my confusion. I'm sure of it)

Anyway, cord like that and then yoobi gave me a headbutt to connect at the third eye. Idk why he gotta be like that :( istg next time he's gonna flick my forehead or something.

I was like "cool cool cool. I want to do the reading now pls" and idk how to explain the energy other than sassy. You know? Blah blah blah I'm thinking, "I don't remember him being so cheeky but maybe I've been gone long enough for him to level up into his final sass monster form"

Anywho, this was intresting because after the little strings were connected and stuff, we plopped down on the floor. And it was like everything I was doing irl was being mimicked infront of yoons energy? So we were sitting facing eachother and I was putting the cards down between us?? Usually that doesn't happen but it was kinda fun!!

Moving right along. I first asked if there was anything he wanted to say or needed to get across and it was 11. Now, 11 has come up before and I'm still not to sure what it's in reference to? My best guess is possibly he's been seeing 11:11 or that it's 2? Idk let me know if you have any clues lol. Other stuff was just kinda banter and stuff.

So so so.

The reading. First thing I asked was how he was doing. And I shuffled his preticular way (when I ask a question I always ask for the energy to tell me how much to shuffle or when to stop. For yoongi it's always 2-2-2. So 2 bridge shuffles, 2 hand shuffles and then split the pile in 2. That's why I think 11 might be 2 to him?)

The cards we got are ace of swords rev, justice,the heirophant rev, the empress.

So based off this I was like okay. I want to pull clarity cards for the two rev cards to get a better picture so I pulled the emperor rev for ace or swords rev and strength rev and wheel of fortune rev for the heirophant rev.

Starting with the ace of swords rev, and the emperor reverse. It seems like yoongi has been re thinking his relationship to control in his life. That's he's possibly noticing any unhealthy needs to control his life and the situation around him. It could also refer to his judgment being clouded by a rigid approach.

With the justice card it makes me think that he's possibly considering a big choice in his life or that he's really doing some deconstructing of his own views. This second idea fits in well with him getting clarity on some possibly unhealthy control issues in his life.

Now. The heirophant rev, strength rev and wheel of fortune reverse. This was intresting to me bc they are all major arcana. The heirophant rev can really talk about no longer needing outside approval and making your own way in your own time bc you are your own teacher. Strength in rev I kinda read as self doubt and feeling down in this case. Like a lack of confidence in himself and his abilities. And the wheel of fortune in reverse I took to mean as his breaking cycles. All together these cards kinda paint a picture about wanting and trying to break a cycle of self doubt and self limiting beliefs and learning more about himself and why he think what he does about himself and searching through everything for truth. It's really good!! In short he's doing some nice soul searching and trusting himself to guide his own way through this self discovery!

The empress! This card seems to pop up for yoobi a lot and I think it really speaks to the abundance that surrounds him! Not just money but the abundance of creativity, love, friends ect.

Now now now. I asked him if there was anything that he wanted to tell us about himself or bts or what's happening in the near future. For that I got 2 of cups, king of wands and 3 of coins.

So the 2 of cups is partnership. Usually romantic. Could be pertaining to the may 13th thing that is ever present lol but I'll get to that later. With the 3 of coins talking about teamwork, this could definitely hint at collaborations coming up!! That's the vibe I get. No one crush my dreams. And for the king of wands it could be talking about taking the reigns on a new project and starting to get it done. Like a new opportunity. This could be a new bts project like starting a new campaign or new venture or maybe personal like the a mixtape or doing more songs for other groups ect.

I had to ask him how he was feeling about the grammys. I had to. Had to. The cards were ace of wands, 2 of wands and death reverse. When these came flying out I could help but smile. Yoongis energy was almost giddy too!

Witht he ace of wands

It's that spark of creativity and inspiration. It's that feeling when you get super excited over some new thing. I think this is the perfect example for feeling reinvigorated. The 2 of wands takes that spark from the ace and tries to funnel that excitement and newness into something directional. Using that burst of creativity to start planning for future progress!! Its so nice to see that! If they don't win (IF) you bet we're gonna get some bangers about a corrupt system. If (WHEN) they do win we'll get bangers about how thankful they are to have gotten where they are in spite of a corrupt system. I just want to hear an uncensored version of yoongi being like, "HOLY FUCKING SHIT, WE DID IT BITCHES. FUCK ALL YOU BASTARDS THAT SAID WE COULDN'T."

I can dream....

What a nice dream.

Now I asked if there was anything yoobi wanted to say to us as in advice or comfort or anything like that and I got, Clearing negativity, make time for self care, when I'm tuned into the energy of abundance I become abundant. when I'm in a state of appreciation im in vibrational alignment with my true love nature. The world rev, 2 of swords rev and that project, that person, that idea is waiting.

Awe. Take care of yourselves!! Make sure to take time to enjoy what you like and try not to let any negativity get in the way of you enjoying your days. The world rev to me seems to be talking about seeking closure on the things in your life that have been impacting you. Tie up those loose ends so you can move foward without triping over yourself and 2 of swords rev I think talks about information overload and being kinda indecisive bc of that. Take a sep back to evaluate the situation at hand because sometimes it's so close you can't see what you're looking for. Those of you who are studying and getting frustrated because you just can't seem to get it, try taking a step back and doing something to take care of yourself and come back to it so you can approach with a clearer mind. Try not to get stuck or paralyzed by choice but if you do get stuck, take some time to detach yourself from the situation and come back later!

A fair few people wanted an update on yoobis soulmate as well. If you need a refresher here's the run down. Yoongis soulmate is impossible for me to read, yoongi is a smug ass and I'm nosy and probably a little dumb.

Now that that's cleared up

I asked, "am I missing something?" (As to why I can't connect and why yoongi won't give me answers.)

I got queen of cups, magician and the high priestess. I read this as him being like, "yeah dude, you aren't woke enough"

YOONGI just give me answers pls. The high priestess is intuition and sacred knowledge, the magician is manifestation and the queen of cups is also intuition.

At this point I was like, okay you little shit, can you at least tell me how your soulmate is doing? Can you do that for me?

2 of cups, 2 of pentacles, 9 of wands and knight of wands. 2 of cups is partnership usually romantic, 2 of pentacles is priorities and managing them, 9 of wands persistence, knight of wands motivation for a new thing. His soulmate last time was in the process of going through some shit and figuring it out and it seems like now they've got a better clue of how to move foward and are currently heading towards good things/ important things in their life (possibly like working towards dream career or had an idea for a business the want to start or field they want to go in.)

I was thinking about the next question when this popped into my head, "if you know about your akashic book, do you know about your soulmates? Have you read it?" I used my pendulum. No movement at all. What so ever. "Are you listening to me?" Yes. "So answer my question please" No. "Do you like to watch me suffer?" Maybe. "Do you know the answer to the question" yes.

YOONGI WHY

This cheeky son of a bitch.

Now I was like, fuck it. Imma ask him the big boi question.

"Is your soulmate present when I do these readings?" Yes.

WHY THE FUCK CAN I NIT PICK UP ON IT???

I had to take a deep breath dude. Yoobi is testing my nerves.

"Are they hiding their energy?" No.

I was actually gonna combust. This makes no sense.

I asked yoongi if he would tell me what I'm not getting. Silence. So i ask my guide.

"lol ur dumb"

Watch me Google "how to fire your spirit guide"

Istg this feels like some dumb prank. Maybe I'm just genuinely oblivious to his soulmates energy or maybe I'm just doing something.

What do you want to bet that his soulmate is just hiding under the platform and I'm too stupid to notice or some dumb thing like that.

yoobi, sir, why must you do this?

I decided to continue.

"What message or thing have you learned from your soulmate recently that could be valuable to us?" I got healthy communication in relationships and deep replenishment.

Good to know you can have a nice communicative relationship with your soulmate bc I CAN'T.

I'm petty about it, sue me.

The message does stand though. Good communication and taking proper rest to replenish yourself.

Now I had to ask yoongi directly what he thought of may 13th.

I got the lovers, 7 of swords, the magician and judgement. The seven of swords was intresting and it makes me think there's some extra stuff at play here too. 7 of swords is about getting away with something and deceit. The clarifier was the magician.... this could mean a lot honestly. It could be that maybe yoongi will have his relationship exposed or possibly that maybe him and his soulmate meet but yoongi is disguised? Idk how that would work at all but I'm stumped. There's a lot of variations that this could be. The magician is about manifesting and having everything you need to create what you want. This could possibly mean that maybe he gets a sudden idea that's like, "oh I have to go here right now. Its super important" eventhough he has practice scheduled. So that would let down his team but he would be following his path and it might lead to him meeting his soulmate? Maybe vice versa? Idk let me know what you think??

With the judgement its about inner calling and kinda like the peak. Like shit has been leading up to this moment. With the lovers too it does seem like a union?

I asked him, "but like what's gonna happen on the 13th thought and I got the 10 of cups. Divine love, bliss, alignment, happy mushy gushy shit. This is why I'm so inclined to think that they'll meet on the 13th or things will get serious or their paths finally cross. The cards seem to heavily suggest that.

My dude. Yoongi is really sappy, pass it on.

For the last question I asked yoomgi if there was messages/ advice he had given to his soulmate that we might benefit from.

First step, open your third eye, open your heart, sign from heaven, open your arms to receiving.

A lot of opening lol.

It's good advice though learning to be open and receptive and taking that first step in tackling life or any situation.

Oki. Now for the disconnecting. It was not nearly as strange as it has been in the past. I was just like thanks dude. Again, happy birthday blah blah and I got up to leave. I noticed it looked like we were in sitting in one of those old plastic hoola hoops? Like the pink and yellow ones lol. As I was looking at and and like??? Off to the side the numbers 13, 28, 54. Obvi 54 isn't a date and then I the last yoongi check up there was book pages and I feel like 54 and 28 were the pages?? I'm not actually sure as I'm writing this so I'm gonna check.

Yep I checked. They are the page #s.

So that's intresting.

Other than that though I just kinda left and he was like, "bye" and that's all.

Not as cool as other yoongi adventures but equally as frustrating.

TLDR

Yoongis doing pretty okay and he's a cheeky little shit. My guide like to watch me suffer and yoobi is mushy gushy squishy.

Happy day of birth Syub!!

#bts #bts tarot #yoongi #bts reactions #bts imagines #yoongi imagine #bts rm #seokjin #bts suga #min suga #park jimin #hoseok #taehyung #jungkook

[the-mandalorian-clone-lover]

Warm familiarity

So, someday I’ll name this series? 

More platonic Obi-Wan x Padawan!Reader, guess who is absolutely in love with the idea of cuddle piles?? *points to self with a big foam finger*

Codywan is probably a little less than a squint away, you being adorable, Obi-Wan being a Dad™ and Cody being a Fun Dad™, Reader is 14 here!!

@demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol Thank you for being a soundboard for ideas and listening to my screeching, love youuuuuuuuuuuu

Masterlist

Given that it’s the fifth time he’s tried to sleep since he got back and all five have failed, Obi-Wan feels like its safe to reach out to Cody. The likelihood that the Commander is also awake doing paperwork is extremely high and if neither one of them can sleep they might as well be productive together.

Reaching out with the force he ends up finding the soft light that is his Commander, in the gym of all places. Which, he will concede, is a wonderful idea. He hasn’t sparred with anyone in quite some time and Cody would be a more than suitable partner. Nodding to himself he rises, grabs a robe and departs, no need for his boots, he’ll end up discarding them anyway.

When he arrives however, the door opens to total darkness, he barely has time to register it before being hit with such a strong wave of the force it nearly knocks him clean over.

Warmth.

Gentleness.

Complete Serenity.

Home.

Blinking he steps in, allowing the door to close behind him, and tilts his head as his eyes adjust.

Bodies. There are bodies everywhere. Laid out on mattresses that had to have been drug from the barracks, equipment pushed to the walls and barely any floor space to be seen. He continues his examination a moment longer before finally realizing, they’re sleeping.

The troops are sleeping.

And his Commander, his loyal second in command, is right in the middle of it all.

Slightly unsure how to proceed he nearly ducks out of the room before hearing the voice of the one he came in search for.

“Kenobi?”

It’s a whisper, but since it’s ‘Kenobi’ and not ‘General’ (and he’d know that voice from all the others anywhere) Obi-Wan turns back.

He raises his eyebrows in question before realizing its very likely Cody can’t see him. “I didn’t mean to intrude.” Comes his whisper, this feels like a very sacred moment in time, in the force and outside of it, he wouldn’t dream of ruining that for his men.

“I can’t hardly hear you, it’ll be easier if you’re closer Obi-Wan, I can’t move or the Commander’ll wake up.”

It’s a little louder than before but Obi-Wan perks his ears. His Padawan was here too? Did that explain the beautiful feeling of comfort that was the force was steeped in?

“I can’t—”

“Use the aisle”

Aisle? Oh. Now that he looks a little closer there does seem to be small pathways between sections, most likely to make leaving easier for those on night shift, though with how entangled everyone is, Obi-Wan isn’t sure anyone could leave (He’s barely left the doorway and he certainly doesn’t want to, this feels comfortable, content, like coming home).

Tiptoeing along he makes his way to where (he thinks) his Commanders are. He happens to guess correctly, finding you wrapped around Cody’s torso, face pressed into his chest, Waxer’s back pressed into yours and boil next to him, there’s a trooper he isn’t familiar with that’s laying between Cody’s legs, with an arm extended to catch your calf—that will certainly need addressing.

“Something up on the bridge?” Cody breathes in a whisper, he’s picked up his head to look at Obi-Wan and in the closeness (despite the darkness) Obi-Wan can see the depths of his brown eyes, the lack of frown lines on his forehead, and the blissed out smile that’s settled on his face. What he wouldn’t give to keep Cody—all the troopers, always like this.

So he shakes his head. “No, I was—” What had he been doing anyway? Looking for Cody yes, but he can’t say that because Cody will feel obligated to move.

“Sir, with all due respect, shut up or I’ll sit on you.”

Both Cody and Obi-Wan turn slowly towards the voice to find Boil has raised his own head and is glaring at the Commander. Voice still thick with sleep and eyes only half open he grouses “Waxer’s a mess if he doesn’t sleep and since I’m the one that has to be on duty with him, hush.” Belatedly his eyes turn to Obi-Wan. “All due respect General.”

With that he flops back down, pulling Waxer closer and humming a little, already asleep again.

“I’ll just—”

“Obi-Wan. Lay down.”

Half turned away Obi-Wan’s eyes go back to Cody’s. The only place open is—Well. Sort of, compromising for the Commander.

“I wouldn’t want to—”

Cody’s raised eyebrow (normally reserved for errant shinies) hikes itself up his forehead and Obi-Wan’s nose twitches. Apparently he’s the one being a stick in the mud (as the Padawans say these days).

“Alright” Comes his voice, much smaller than he gave permission for it to be, and he discards his robe in favor of putting it over the two of you. Cody adjust slightly as Obi-Wan settles, pulling you nearly atop him in order to raise an arm around Obi-Wan.

Obi becomes suddenly aware of the broad chest of his commander and the fact that unlike the others (that are totally encase in their blacks) he is wearing a tank top. Force help him.

“Read an article from Gree that it’s best for young humans to have skin-to-skin contact, its been good for the troopers too.” Comes Cody’s low whisper, his head turned to Obi-Wan to keep the noise down.

“You do this often” Obi-Wan realizes, and he doesn’t sound strangled as he feels the warmth of the arm that is now around him, or the chest that he is now very close to. He doesn’t.

“Usually every Taungsday but the Commander opened up Primeday since this campaign started.  She says it’s good for us.”

They’re interrupted by the door sliding open again, two troopers entering and making their way around the room. Also in blacks, they rouse two others, trading places, and the new set leaves together. Obi-Wan looks to Cody questioningly and he closes his eyes, nodding.

“We go around the clock, trading in and out so everyone has time here.”

Obi-Wan is floored. How hadn’t he known about this? Clearly you had snuck out to do it, you’d been securely in your quarters every night when he checked before going to his own, why hadn’t you told him?

“Go to sleep Obi” Comes Cody’s sleep slurred voice, “I’m almost in the field, she can take you too.”

“Field?” Obi-Wan asks hurriedly but its too late, Cody’s already snoring.

Now intrigued he closes his own eyes, he does feel much more tired he suddenly realizes, like he could actually sleep.

Barely a beat passes before he finds out what field Cody meant.

It’s Naboo. Nearly two years ago now, after the war had kicked off. He doesn’t remember why he’d been there, (probably looking for Anakin) but you’d wandered off during a meeting, gone missing for hours, and then been found just outside the city in a field of wild flowers; napping and talking to nerfs and loth cats. He remembers the trip with a certain amount of anxiety because you’d been young, and from one minute to the next missing. It wasn’t uncommon for young Padawans to be targeted by those less than morally upstanding, he’d feared the worst for several hours. You’d been lectured by Captain Typho for quite awhile before he managed to get there himself so he’d tried not to scold you, it did lead to the two of you further strengthen the bond you shared as Master and Padawan but he’d never realized what had happened in the time you’d been missing.

Sunshine, warm with a soothing breeze, the purring of a loth cat nearby, the stirring of the grass and the sound of the nearby stream. The ground firm beneath him but cushioned by the soft grass, the comforting weight of Cody’s arm around him.

Each new thing his brain becomes aware of encloses his senses in tranquility, coziness and reassurance. He doesn’t blame you for leaving now, or for being sorry you were caught.

He wakes what must be hours later, unwillingly and quite slowly but he does, and realizes there are several others coming to consciousness as well. Somehow during the night Cody has moved to face him, both of them clinging to each other, and Cody stares at him for a moment before breathing a quiet greeting. The lights are still off but Cody can see the chrometer on the far wall that lets him know they should be on the bridge soon.

“Where’s my Padawan.”

Cody’s eyes fall back to Obi-Wan, then further down to his own arms where you had been at one point, he begins to roll over with a grunt of question, arms loosing on Obi-Wan (who is rising to look over his own shoulder before turning back toward Cody—

You’re wrapped up with that unfamiliar trooper.

“Wooley’s got her Kenobi, she’s fine.”

“Fine?” Comes Obi-Wans harsh whisper, “Fine??”

Cody raises his eyebrow again. “You know we’ve been doing this for months right?”

Obi-Wan sputters.

[breaniebree]

12, 13, 17, 19, 36, 59, 84 for new asks please!

Hi, Anon!

Thanks for asking! Love that there were so many!

12. Who is your favourite character to write for? Why?

Hmm... I think this changes depending on my mood. Lately it's been Tonks and Remus. I love writing their domestic bliss as well as Tonks being a badass Auror. I've been having fun with them. But usually I really love writing the Weasleys, particularly the brothers views on Ginny. I find them so fun, giving them each their own personality and Ron deserves so much love. He's just so awesome!

13. Who is your least favourite character to write for? Why?

Crouch. He's disturbing and disgusting, but that's how he appears to me and I can't change him or his gross ways. Also, I really hate writing from Draco's POV because I find him difficult and a bit of an enigma. I believe him to be an asshole, but very kind and attentive to those whom he deems worthy which makes him a contradiction to write sometimes.

17. Post a line from a WIP that you’re working on.

“Mum, we don’t know what happened. Everyone could be okay,” Ginny said, trying to keep her voice strong.

Molly merely held Ginny tighter as they stood there and waited for news.

19. Are there any stories that you’ve written that you’d really love to do a sequel to?

Hmm... I feel like everything I've written has more or less been completed at the end. Though I suppose I would like to write more of my Missing Moments one-shots, but I just haven't been inspired to do so as I've been so busy with A Second Chance. I do sometimes feel like I will need a sequel to ASC just to cover after the war, but we'll see ❤️

36. Can you give us a spoiler for one of your WIP’s?

Hmm, lots of spoilers here LOL. Um, yes, I can, the line (which I gave you 3 of) is from the last chapter I completed. The bit I am currently working on...

...and a flash of purple before he found himself flying through the air.

He grunted as he landed on his side, his ears ringing. His hand moved to his head, finding blood and he coughed as the room began to come into focus once more.

Grey smoke filled the chamber as purple flames erupted from the left side of the room. He blinked in confusion as the purple human torch disintegrated with a bang and a second rumble shook the chamber. Marble and stone collapsed as the flames shot out like long tendrils, stretching to reach everything in sight.

59. Which character(s) do you find the most difficult to write?

Most difficult for me tends to be Luna. I love her and I love her quirkiness, but I always find writing her is hard. I'm always worried I don't get her tone right, or her personality, or I take her a step too far or not far enough. Whenever I have her in a scene, I find myself second guessing everything I write and it's rather stressful to be honest LOL.

84. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of.

An excerpt I'm particularly fond of... I think I've said it before that this changes a lot depending on my mood, but lately I think it's the opening of my story ASC

They were dead.

They were both dead and it was all his fault.

He didn’t cry. He had no tears left in him to cry. He didn’t rage; he’d spent weeks doing just that, slamming his fists into the stones until his knuckles had bled; until his fingers were broken, but the pain never fazed him. He ate mechanically as the healer fixed his hands and the next day, he’d punched the stone all over again and again trying to feel something … anything.

He screamed. He shouted that he was innocent. He threatened to kill his former best friend, his brother. But it was for nothing.

It was all for nothing.

He was the one who had been betrayed; the spy who wasn’t; he was guilty in the eyes of the world and nothing he could say was going to change that.

And no one was listening anyway.

At first he thought that at least he would come. His best friend; the one who he had trusted most outside of the one who was his blood brother. The one who he had kept secrets for; the one who was so thankful and confused as to why they even called him friend, called him brother in the first place.

But he never came.

He too thought he was guilty; that he was just like the family that he had tried so hard to run from.

The days turned into weeks which turned into months. He paced; he ran on the spot; he spent hours doing push-ups and sit-ups; contemplated making a noose with his thin shabby sheet and just ending it until the rage consumed him once more. He was not going to take his own life; not while he was out there, the truly guilty party. The spy. The one that he had once called friend and brother.

The months dragged into that first year and his thin hold on his own sanity started to slip away from him as he counted the days, digging the rock into the stone to tally his sentence.

On his twenty-third birthday, he spent the day in fitful dreams; memories of the woman that he had called mother holding her wand above him and telling him how worthless he was; how spineless and unworthy he was to be in the Most Ancient and Noble House. He relived the feel of the torture curse, seeing his mother holding the wand; relived the pain of the belt that his father struck across his back and when he heard his own screams echoing in the stone cell — he clawed at the stone until his nails bled.

By the second year, he forced himself to transform the moment the memories came to the surface. He forced himself to think of happy thoughts, but he couldn’t remember any. Had he ever been happy? He was innocent. It wasn’t a happy thought, but it wasn’t a miserable thought either so they couldn’t take it away from him. He hadn’t murdered those people, true. But could he really be considered innocent?

It was his fault that they were dead; his decision; his stupid mistake.

He was innocent.

He was guilty.

He was innocent.

He was guilty.

He paced the cell back and forth as far as the chains would allow him; back and forth, marking the days each morning when he woke. He slept as a dog; woke to eat the gruel that they called porridge; one hour of push-ups; one hour of sit-ups, keep the body disciplined, keep the mind sane, he told himself repeatedly. He’d nap as a dog; wake to eat the gruel that they called stew and as the first wave of unhappy memories would unfold into his system, he’d transform and whimper in the corner.

By the third year, he had his routine down to a science. No one spoke to him. The healer came to check on him once a month; let him wash with a bowl of lukewarm water and a clean cloth. The healer never spoke and the soul-sucking creatures hovered as the healer trembled, waiting for him to finish so that he could leave. The moment that the healer was gone, he became a dog once more.

When he started his count into year four, he knew that he would die alone in this very cell. No one would ever discover that his old friend had been the real one to betray them; the real one to trick those who cared for him.

No one would ever know his story.

“Sirius?”

The voice sounded foreign, almost too far away. He recognized the Scottish burr, but he couldn’t place it. No one had spoken to him in four years, six months, and seventeen days. Was that his name? His head pounded, but for the first time all day it was clear, telling him that the soul sucking creatures had distanced themselves, at least partially, from his cell.

“Sirius Black?”

The hesitation in the voice now got his attention and he realized that it wasn’t a memory; someone was actually speaking to him.

Someone was outside of his cell.

He moved towards the bars, long thin fingers gripping the iron and his grey eyes bruised around the edges meeting the square beady brown eyes that he recognized so well and his heart stopped at the sight of them.

“Minnie?” he whispered hoarsely, the old nickname slipping out before he consciously thought about it.

The brown eyes rolled in exaggeration at him and for the first time in four years, six months, and seventeen days — he felt a bubble of laughter rising in his throat.

“Sirius,” she said softly, reaching to hold his ice cold hands where they clutched the iron bars tightly. “You remember me? I was worried that I might have been too late. The healer said… never mind. You know me.”

He shook his head, clearing the cobwebs that lingered there. “Yeah,” he said roughly. “Why are you here, Professor?”

Her eyes looked sad as she gripped his hands tightly from where they were clutched around the bars. “I’m sorry that it took so long, Sirius, I’m so sorry, but you are finally getting a trial. A trial to prove your innocence.”

His dark grey eyes met hers in shock. “What?”

“I don’t believe for a moment that you betrayed James and Lily, Sirius. I never have. James was like a brother to you and you… you loved that little boy. You deserve a trial. Maybe if we can understand why you…”

Sirius snorted now, his fingers gripping hers as he realized what she was saying. “You believe that I murdered thirteen people in a crowded street, but I didn’t betray my best friends. Interesting view you have of me, Minnie, my dear.”

“Sirius,” she said again, her voice quiet and stern. “I believe that you are innocent and I have been campaigning for you to be set free from the moment that you were arrested. Finally, the Minister has taken heed of my words and agreed to give you the trial you should have been given years ago. It will be in three days time.”

Sirius squeezed her fingers gently. “I am innocent, Minnie. I would never have betrayed them, never!”

McGonagall nodded, smiling at him. “I know. I will see you in three days, Sirius. I’m rooting for you.”

As he watched her leave, he felt the darkness pressing in on him once again and he moved away from the bars, letting his back rest against the cool stone.

Four years, six months, seventeen days — but he was getting a trial.

Thanks for the asks!

#ask me anything #harry potter fanfiction

[thenugking]

anyway here’s that pre-relationship pre-campaign fic i wrote for hennie and their patron

nb orc warlock/nb archfey patron 2000 words, also they’re both autistic and the fey are welsh in this world.

cw: brief mentions of domestic abuse, sexual harrassment, alcohol, and allistic behaviour 

AO3 link

***

The locals warn to avoid the Woods. Barely more than a copse from the outside, but they say those who enter can become hopelessly lost. They say the air is thick with old magics there. They say that at the center lies a ring of mushrooms, a portal to the Feywild. They say within the Woods dwells a powerful, dangerous, beautiful Fey, whose powers of seduction are otherworldly and devastating.

Which all sounds incredibly fucking hot to Hennie.

Hennie’s been interested in the Fey since they started their apprenticeship. Or at least, from three weeks in, when Master Cornelis finally stopped making them copy shopping lists, and instead gave them a book of Folktales of the Fey. Since then, they’ve read everything about the Fey they can get their hands on. Back in their home village of Gornstad, Hennie dreamed hopelessly of adventuring in the Feywild. Accompanying Master Cornelis to the town of Arentsen to do in-person calligraphy for a very prestigious client--one Hennie should probably have remembered the name of--they’ve spoken with people who actually knew those a Fey spirited away, and for the first time, their dreams seem like they might actually be obtainable.

And the fact that this Fey makes a habit of seducing Orcs who wander into their Woods doesn’t hurt either.

It’s a little past the stroke of midnight--Hennie took a couple of wrong turns on the way--and the Woods seem unnaturally quiet around them. Guided only by the rumours of the townsfolk, and an unwavering commitment to the cause of faery sex, Hennie ventures onwards, further into the Woods. Their heart beats heavy in their chest as they notice an outline of mushrooms between the gnarled old trees, and they suck in a breath before taking that fateful step into the ring.

Nothing happens.

“Uh… hello?” Hennie looks around. “Lord…? Lady…? Sir Fey? Are you there?”

A slight wind blows through the wood as they stand there, and Hennie shivers. Maybe they should have brought a cloak, instead of the shirt thin enough to show off their chest. Or maybe they should have stayed in their warm bed in the inn, and got some sleep, instead of chasing stories. Master Cornelis isn’t going to be happy if they yawn their way through tomorrow’s lessons again. Whether Hennie’s just not pretty enough to be worth seducing, or there was never really a Fey here to begin with, no one’s coming, and Hennie’s pretty sure they’re wasting their time.

“I must say, it’s been a while since anyone sought me out,” comes a voice from behind them.

Hennie whirls around, their breath catching in their throat.

The Fey stands illuminated between the trees, the Woods somehow light around them, though they don’t carry a torch. They look almost human, except very unhuman in a way Hennie can’t quite place. Their shining white hair blows in the wind--the wind that Hennie was certain stopped before they appeared. They’re the most beautiful being Hennie’s ever seen.

“Uh,” they say.

“Eloquent,” the Fey responds, and Hennie can feel their cheeks heating. Their face is serene, yet their eyes seem to bore into Hennie. “I am here to bargain, not to give freely. If you wish another word from me, you will tell me--truthfully--your intentions in coming here.”

“Um. So it’s--it’s really nice to meet you. Amazing, actually. Hello.”

True to their word, the Fey doesn’t reply, only continues to regard them impassively.

Hennie takes a deep breath. “People said you seduce visitors to the forest?” they blurt out.

The Fey’s composure slips suddenly, and for a moment they look astonished, before they throw their head back and laugh. The sound is magical, but Hennie feels it maybe goes on a little too long.

“Is that why you came here, dynan? Seduction?” They seem to have regained their poise, but the corner of their mouth twitches upwards in a smile. “You think I desire mortals for intercourse?”

“No! I mean--that’s what people in town think! They say Orcs fall in love with you, and then you spirit them away.”

“Your people do like to think the worst of mine.”

“So… what do you really do?”

“Avoid concerning myself with the affairs of mortals, when possible.”

“But you come when called?”

“Yes.”

They answered only what asked, Hennie realised. Of course they did--they had told them they didn’t give freely. Hennie had done the same as a child, until Master Cornelis had taught them that “No” was not an adequate answer to the question of, “Have you finished copying the manuscript yet?” and they also had to give a reason why not, and an estimation of when they would be finished. It feels odd to realise Master Cornelis’ conversation style is now more familiar to them than their own. It feels comforting to return to their own with the Fey.

“So what made everyone think you seduce people away? If you know?”

“Misunderstandings.”

“Tell me about them? Please?”

“Politeness, too. How sweet. Very well then, dynan. The first came to me for help. He felt his name and his place in your realm a meager enough payment to escape his wife’s beatings. The second was a Lord who thought himself powerful enough to take whatever he wanted,” their lip curls, “That he could make an archfey bend to his whims.” They grin suddenly, their teeth gleaming, before they turn and place their hand on one of the gnarled trees. “I thought he should learn to give back to the world a little.” Shadows dance across the Woods, and for a moment, Hennie thinks they see a grimacing face staring out from the tree trunk.

“Right. Um. Sorry for... presuming. Uh.”

“Since you’re here, you could always offer me something in return for me granting you the gift of speech.”

“I know how to--hey, none of the books ever said the Fey make fun of people!”

“Didn’t they? Then perhaps it’s just me. Or perhaps it’s just you.” The Fey is smiling at them now, their eyes--somehow able to repel and draw Hennie in at the same time--glinting.

“Uh,” says Hennie again.

“Or perhaps it need not be a jest, after all.”

“No, I’m fine!” The Fey wants real answers, real explanations. “It’s just--I know I was wrong about the whole… seduction… thing, but you’re beautiful, and I’ve wanted to meet a Fey for years, and this is the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me, so I’m sort of… overwhelmed. And intimidated. And… you know.”

“Do I?”

Hennie flushes again. “It doesn’t matter! You said you weren’t interested in mortals.”

“Did I?”

Hennie opens their mouth to respond, and then closes it again as they think back over the conversation. “No. You said you hadn’t seduced mortals here before. You didn’t… you didn’t say you wouldn’t.” The fey continues to watch them impassively. “So does that mean… could we… am I seducing you?”

They smile again, bright and sharp, and take a step closer to Hennie. They could have sworn the Fey was shorter than them--tall for a human, perhaps, but nothing to an Orc--but somehow, they tower over Hennie now. Their heart feels like it’s about to burst from their chest as the Fey reaches out to take their chin and tilt it upwards, and Hennie closes their eyes.

“I think not,” says the Fey.

Hennie’s eyes snap open. The fey has let go of their chin, and is several feet away again, without Hennie having noticed them move. “Oh. Right. I mean. Of course, that’s your right. But you were kind of leading me on there…”

“You muddle your words once again, mortal. I was most definitely leading you on.”

“Right. Yeah. So can I ask--No, I’m just asking. Why not?”

“Because I am an Archfey, the Tywysog of a realm your mortal mind cannot comprehend, I have powers that can change the very plane you walk on. You are tiny, compared to me. Make no mistake, our meeting has been delightful, but while I may tease you for my own amusement, I will not take advantage of you further, dynan.”

“Right. I mean, I’d be fine with it if you did take advantage…”

“I gathered.”

“I guess you have. Yeah.” Hennie looks down, shuffling their feet. “So, I mean, I’m still really interested in all the non-seduction related things? Can I give you my soul for a trip to the Feywild, or something?”

The Fey’s eyebrows raise. “You can.”

“That would be, uh, a much better deal on your end, wouldn’t it?”

“Quite.”

The Fey steps forward again, staring at Hennie closely, and they feel a flicker of fear. “I don’t--I’m not giving you my soul. Not for just one trip, anyway.”

Their smile now is softer than any of those they’ve given so far. “And I would not take it. I have been far kinder with you than I needed to be, dynan. Other Fey may not be. And I suspect I have done little to temper your enthusiasm to meet them. So I will offer you a deal.”

This was the moment, according to everyone Hennie had ever spoken to about the Fey, that they should start running in the opposite direction. Well, actually, most people they brought the subject up with told them not to go looking for the Fey in the first place, but everyone was pretty united on the, “Don’t take any deal they offer you,” front.

“Go on,” says Hennie.

“Give me your name. Make yourself mine. Come to me when I call, and help me when I ask. In return, I will protect you from other Fey, I shall ask no more of you than you are able to give, and I will grant you the gift of magic. All this I promise you.”

Hennie really isn’t sure there’s any downsides. “That… would be amazing. Wait, when you say you want my name, do you mean what my parents named me, or--”

“Of course not. It matters little what others call you. Your name is your own.” Their lip twitches. “At least for the next few moments.”

“All right. I accept. My name’s Hennie. Hennie Geluk.”

The Fey is holding a pendant. Hennie didn’t see them pick it up, but is sure they weren’t holding it a moment ago. They hold it up, and it shines in the moonlight. “Hennie. Take my blessing, wear my locket, and you shall have the magic of a Warlock at your fingertips.” They raise their pendant to Hennie’s neck, and then pause, their hands almost touching them again. “There is… something further I could offer you. A suggestion, rather than a deal. A bargain uncompleted. If you wished.”

“Tell me.”

“What I’m giving you is the ability to cast spells. Your skill you will have to develop by yourself, through experience. There is a town, far away, across the sea. There are mortals who will be drawn together. Travel there, seek them out, quest with them, and you will begin to gain that experience. And your power will grow. And at the end of it… I shall make you no more promises, but you would not be so tiny. Make of that what you will.”

“So… if I leave my home, and my job, and everything, and go off on a dangerous quest with strangers… you might bang me at the end of it?”

“That is one path in a stream of endless possibilities.”

“Yes! I’ll do it.”

The Fey smiles, fastening the pendant around Hennie’s neck. “You do amuse me, dynan.”

The world around Hennie glows with light, and images of strangers flash across their vision.

An aged elf wielding a greataxe, the brow of a ship behind her. A goblin working on an intricate magical construct. A human healer, set of scalpels in hand. A young woman whose ears suggest elven ancestry, but whose wax seals suggests an allegiance to the inferior human calligraphy guild. A bombillan with a swarm of smaller bees surrounding them. A dwarf playing a steel drum one handed, as she takes a swig from a bottle with the other. A port town, the name Hrip inscribing itself in Hennie’s mind.

When it’s over, the Fey is gone, and Hennie is alone in the Woods again. They shiver, the cold of the night returning as it occurs to them that this hadn’t been a problem in the Fey’s presence. They wish again that they’d brought something warmer, and then suddenly, their shirt is letting off heat. Right. Magic.

Hennie beams to themself as they start to make their way back to town. They have a long journey ahead of them. And if things go very, very well, a powerful, dangerous, beautiful Fey to bang.

#i wrote some fic #ragtag grabbag #dungeons and dragons #hennie geluk #tallyn #i need 2 give these 2 a ship name hmm #marsh ocs #non marsh ocs #there's the rest of the party at the end

[paraclete0407]

Going to give away all my story-ideas a la George Johnston’s ‘The Fire Sale’ since I feel as if Lucifer has been unleashed against me for the destruction of my flesh that I might learn not to blaspheme - 

‘The Winners 2012′ 

With the prototype of my ‘Three Kings’ ultimate self-idea-hero, the Vice Principal or Ass’t Headmaster forced to play basketball, also something about a novel about violoncello and female self-satisfaction, inner life or pseudo-inner-life and my attack on Harvard people for their emetic unending self-celebration, which turned out to be a sort of Kim Jong Il three-day massacre-banquet + they really have a huge problem with alcohol, rape, at the same time they were right IMHO to be eating blueberries and protein-goop and so on sleeping 2hrs a night.  Princeton students doing math in lucid dreams.  I too would have but in retrospect I literally methinks I deduce that my bio-parents and Waqas my Paki roommate were trying to give me heart-failure in the cause of sociohistorical justice and/or ‘family tree’ hyper-narcissism.  I was watching ‘Reply 1997′ and that song ‘Confession’ but I thought ‘I am gonna one day hang out with my friend again and drive through the NJ woods and it’ll all be alright b/c they are gonna have theirs and I am gonna have mine and in the end they will still be able to follow my lead and feel I was worthwhile.’  ‘Headmaster’s Wife’ something something Robert James Waller bidding for continued relevance after ‘Madison County’ but even in 2012 I just honestly wasn’t that fascinated with women or their hobbies at all.  I like the Korean poem that says to look at your spouse’s brow, check homework, share food.  Everyone wants a room of their own in which to produce bad art, get worse as a person, do that which others could do better.  USFK bases are like huge campuses with super-nice beds and the soldiers all appear to need like 5,000 KCAL per diem or they’ll pass out.  I had been in the habit of sleeping bolt-straight till I got here and liquified my form.  ‘Winners’ got totally out of hand where the Ass’t Headmaster started cruising around looking for anyone and everyone to talk to and never got what he was up to - never ever ever realized that he could minimize his life and walk away, that he was manager-material at Cryan’s Irish Pub or sth, that the principal really might retire one day or just let him step up, if he didn’t keep trying to ‘discharge responsiblities’ or lay the ground for some super-daughter-figure to fulfill the mission that he had been waiting to incipit; and too, he was sort of a priest to begin with and avoided his vocation for years and decades for reasons unknown.  My ex-friend from Harvard bragged about staying up for 36hrs doing something and there was President Obama saying ‘Heyyy Harvard Columbia but I also like flip-flops, chips, Occidental, jackass, fag.’  Obama had such an uneven series of statements.  I used to blow up on the radio like 1000000% affirmative action; Thomas Sowell is 10000% right that the Ivies were disillusioning and damaging generation of Blacks who couldn’t read fast enough - therefore, better to go back to K-12 / HS and try to give younger people a general preparedness so that they wouldn’t leave it to mercenary oft CCP-seduced (Vogel) and it turns out oft pedophilic prof’s (Alexander Theroux is in the habit of calling Dershowitz ‘dirt’ though I actually agree with him about a lot and hope that he is still in favor of rule of law at this bizarre hour) to form or confer their identity and bequeath their sense of mission in life... 

‘Thanksgiving Day’

Possibly my ‘most characteristic novel’ that predicted me never being understood or read with my own grain at all though it contained terrorist threats basically.  Of all Korean pop-music with its numerous melismas in a way he most ‘abject’ was Sunny’s song from ‘Story of Wine,’ ‘Finally Now’ which made me realize actually I was gonna get cut up at all the dinner-parties, all my understandings would be met with anti-understandings, everything I simplified would be complicated, whether I throw rock paper or scissor all my ex-friends from Gov School are throwing CCP massive retaliation deepfake AI bury-the-scholar-alive fireballs.  So they drove to the South Mountain Res where the homosexual pederasts are acting pedagogical and ‘adoptive’ and they are sitting there like, ‘Well soon it will be deer-hunting season + Chris Christie was saying how teachers like to make kids’ faces light up + give them indelible memories but under all his generosity of acknowledgment / crediting all the while CC was also saying / dogwhistling / inciting if not demanding or ordering, “Eat the poor,”which Obama was also arguably saying.’

I still like Sunny or did like 18 months ago - Tizzard and friends are mad at Cho Kuk; I tried to defend the governing class though this actually clashed with my own belief in people that came from dirt being best qualified as long as they don’t turn utterly prideful;  and I’m a monarchist megalomaniac b/c I thought of Kissinger saying, ‘The illegal we do immediately the unconstitutional takes a while’ which I did not eve n intend to mean ‘Milwaukee antinomianism misrule carnivalesque total inversion of values’ and IZ*ONE were ‘rigged’ (destined), ‘Sunkyu’ is a good safe name that I know of and at the end she is like, ‘He is a loser; I am going back to the party anyway; he belongs in a Cistercian monastery or somewhere; it is not wrong to have monks and nuns and celibate married couples and/or those who wat a long time after marriage to have a child...’  

‘Everything’ (Everything 2015 / Everything 2021)

Words never said, ‘I’m everything’ - therefore how can you not play my games and _ _ _.  This was such an abject apprehension(?) in my own life; I had an ideal solution to the problem and in those days I actually had no acute anxiety nor did I feel this distance(d) awe from anybody but only a low-level thrumming or basso continuou worry or ‘meditation’ (Purpose-Driven Life).  I guess now if someone isn’t asking a clear question it might be beside the point to imagine it’s worthwhile to answer and if somebody proffers you a certainty in any part of speech it is best it is best just to respond or non-respond without ay semblance of personality; deflection; without wanting to add anything or change anyone’s mind b/c in the end they who open their wings prematurely will get shot down all the more; and will also become their own worst enemies at times due to the conceits of ‘my nobility; fallen flower; I was Elect; I was anointed [sth. from ‘Sentimental Education’ abt women’s hearts]’  

When I was 15 I started thinking a lot about reality and who is real to whom; my favorite piano-piece though in retrospect I might’ve ust listened to it then moved on with better things was Frederic Chopin’s ‘Berceuse’ op. 57 a.k.a. ‘Lullaby’ though originally it was simply ‘Variations.’  Simple left hand, very testing right hand.  Michelangeli made a version in which nothing was thrown away or left to chance and a lot of pianists add a deep D-flat to the last chord which I disagreeith b/c the whole point of not using that is taht in the end it’s not a big deal.  Best is Kempff 1946 because it’s utterly affectionate, fatherly, almost forgetful.  I had once regarded this version or ‘rendering’ as being Kempff’s message to post-Nazi Germany saying, ‘Dream a new dream for a while.’  His left hand is spelling and his right hand is tracing.  I used to make up words for this piece ‘I’m real God can’t you see / to break your shield’ but that was with a different count or tempo than the actual notation.  Also, the version I heard first was Idil Biret or someone and they made the left hand cycle or reciprocate with a false completeness like an underlying clock when the essence of the ‘Berceuse’ is that the inner voices form a tolling or droning.  I years later turned to the even more violent psychopathic Chopin that gave me hand-tremors and I think it is very bad for humans of which the apex was the last page or so of Nocturne 55-2 which is basically heart-explosion into embers.  After going to KR I never wanted to touch a piano again except for anything related to Kempff and would walk around Lake Park, Wahl Street, considering Russia, simplicity, ‘c/Chimes.’  Didn’t then realize George Frost Kennan grew up around there and was considering Russia his whole life.  I saw ‘Cat Street’ and was put in mind of a Singaporean market or square where they let songbirds talk to each other but it’s ancient history now.  Maybe in future no one will care about cats, birds - I don’t really except I grew up in white trash degenerate Mass. where they burned frogs for fun (I was like 3) and put skull-flag all over their rooms.  I oppose Mao sparrow-genocide, am fond of dandelions and the Ku Sang poem about dandelions from ‘Infant Splendor.’  However my generation and the people of that time were arguably over-equipped and in one way over-covered in another under-covered.  

Voice in my head saying ‘They want Maoism man.’  But I really did believe in those days that others’ futures were like my own past and I perhaps overestiated my own chance of any future understanding, ‘trust-ness,’ and, either stable interiority or cognizable reliable plain-as-day face-to-face exteriority.  

I also read Somerset Maugham’s critiques of ‘the Russian sense of humor’ which I approved of and my mom recently dreamed of the cat running out with his tail burnt.

There are perhaps only so many possible variations or stories and ‘today’s character’ is a real human being in the present moment and placement not just your favorite actress or whatever or whomever that would follow you to the ends of the Earth.  I have almost no idea right now whether others want what I want or not; I had fantasized about writing speeches and always taking my family with me on the campaign-airplane which in retrospect is not perforce responsible and might’ve been mental Bidenism.  I had only felt that it would or could be good for people in the future / future Man to be aware of one another’s burdens like let your son or daughter know when you’re working really hard instead of playing / representing Santa Dad when you’re really storing up UncleHammer and CrushFather vengeance, whether motivated by presumption and reactionary atavism or by the Will of God in the case of Mr. David James Johnston must be pulverized in to ‘coulisse bright dark tragic chiaroscuro’...In ‘Coming Home Again’ Changrae Lee’s mom was telling him how hard his psychiatric dad worked in graduate school and that is something I believe kids should know but there again what if immgrant young people really do grow up or ‘come up’ with this ‘Minima Moralia’ (Adorno cf. Vatican Censoriate) sense that ‘wrong life cannot be rightly lived,’ a horrific desolate phrase, that existence is a ‘battle life’ and that evth we do right today is a down-payment on wrong tomorrow. 

In the ‘diaspora(?)’ of Evangelical Christianity following the passing away of a very famous and beautifully simply and consistent apologist Ravi Zacharias there was a cataclysmic revelation concerning his treatment of masseuses, first in terms of sexual harrassment and later unless it is all ‘fake news’ the discovery of a trove of actual records of abuse.  I‘m Reddit ButBothSides relativism but it really almost feels as if there had been the mentality of a ‘treasury of merit’ but I don’t even want to say anything like that.  Strange keepsakes!  I feel as though ‘everybody deserves to know’ I am pretty certain I could be indicted for sexual harrassment in the Republic of Korea from a specific instant I recall very vividly + it might be good to do so in view of the current society’s determination to stop driving women toward suicide but IDK whether I ough to say that to anyone in Milwaukee b/c around here they’re racists and polyamorists and it’s more CCP paleo-peudo-Confucian mistress-culture where my dad is checking out my girlfriends and orgy and procurement are considered acts of unconditional love(?).  Many years ago I looked at the Joongang Daily and say a ‘diptych’ of ‘T-ARA to release new song in November’ and ‘Uhm Taewoong arraigned for solicitation in [’my last stop’]’ + I adored TIAMO but it made me sad that the yougest member of this group was posing ith little girls all carring playing cards b/c it was lke a Chaim Potok novel that said mutatis mutandis ‘child-rearing is all gambling’ which goes against my sense of what is possible and even practical with a proper chain of care and ‘absolute ownership.’  And there I had been eager to join in the American Families Plan but then it really is still public schools where (Chesterton),  ‘ The whole modern world has divided itself into Conservatives and Progressives. The business of Progressives is to go on making mistakes. The business of Conservatives is to prevent mistakes from being corrected.’  Professionalism, fair compensation, training, re-training, good data, involving parents.  I am just sad b/c I realized I don’t really get how good or bad the SoE’s are anymore but the costs of Chromebooks and such are immense and I’m almost 100% certain the kids still have noisy homes, no good desks, + many of the staff are single moms nursing etc. + teacher-tenure and ‘middle class wages’ IMHO have been drawing mercenary self-righteous ideologue-automoton mental Boomers for decades and they still don’t get it but I’m super-sad b/c I just have no way I know of finding out!

I like talking to psychiatrists b/c they get stuff about autism as well as in some cases literal demons and matters such as handwriting, Arabic script going ‘backwards,’ but in the end they too appear committed to doing whatever the current overlord(s) of the world order are going to do.  At the mental hospital they’re writing stuff like ‘schiz- ____’ nd saying ‘sign I’ll date’ and when I say ‘that’s an official document’ the union pozzers around here are like ‘it’s my document’ like Hell it is.  You’re on strike against truth and morality and that’s no joke!  You better give me heart-failure tonight or I will eventually bring a suit against your ‘whole host’ but that itself is beside the point because of Delta and drones and the fact that this is a revelating(?) era and a literal Judgment of God, which I had been hoping to weather and eventually execute my long-incubating intention but I truly am concerned what could present roll over and through this city.

This spectre or menace of a saturating, superceding, overriding ‘raison d’etat’ in the earthly world order soon to come and everything going to be unsealed anyway so that your private life is really just ‘a paper heart merit-badge that says “private life” on it’ and in future even a confirmation of something or someone is not really a confirmation.  Puts in mind of the MLG song ‘Kiss Me’ about ego and commitment and the valences and intersections(?) of different potential promises or forecasts.  My old friend Miles used to write about kissing a lot and I had reflections about kissing and such matters but IDK now if he’s a cultural Maoist advocating to defund the LAPD or he just ‘keeps his virtue to himself’ and feeds trash the ‘Arab Street’ about not protecting weak people from criminals.

[axwalker]

III: The masquerade ball

Synopsis: This is an AU where the monarchy in Cordonia doesn’t longer exist and it has been replaced by a republic. It’s set in the final stages of the presidential race with Senator Liam Rhys competing against Fidelya’s Governor Godfrey Karlington. To assure his son’s victory, Constantine makes an arrangement behind his back for him to marry the rich ambassador’s daughter: Alexis O’Brien. Due to her father’s threats she has no other option that seduce Liam and make him fall in love with her. But what does she really feel?

In this episode: Drake can’t stop thinking about Elena while Liam is struggling with his father’s demands. The ambassador and Constantine explain their plan to Alexis.

To catch up here’s the Masterlist

Warnings: I love drama and chaos so this will probably get dark. In this episode, there is mention of child neglect.

Please note that this is my first series and English is not my first language. I really appreciate ALL comments and feedback.  

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Pixelberry except for  Alexis O’Briens and her horrible father, George O’Brien

 @pug-bitch @texaskitten30

Thanks to @mskaneko for the beautiful mood board

Drake woke up thinking about Elena, replaying the night before over and over again; refusing to accept the fact that he might never see her again. At the end of the night, before Drake left her at the restaurant, they had shared a last kiss, as passionate as the ones on the beach. He thought that maybe this time, his luck would change and he would be able to find her. Normally, Drake wouldn’t be optimistic. He always waiting for the worse to happen, but with her, just for this once, he was allowing himself to hope.

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It was the fourth night on a row that Liam Rhys woke up at 3 o’clock, unable to sleep any further. His father had been bothering him about his lack of fiancé since the beginning of the campaign. Liam knew he would have to choose someone soon or Constantine threats to pick a woman for him would become real. Since the day his father offered him Leo’s spot as a Presidential candidate, Liam was aware that having an arraigned marriage was a real possibility, but right now, it felt too tangible. He started wondering if he’ll be able to go through it at all. Could he fall in love someday? Or would he be like his father? Married to a woman he could barely tolerate. Liam loved his country, he wanted to sacrifice everything to follow his father’s steps, fulfill his dreams, but he couldn’t help but wonder if a loveless life was really the only solution. He was so immersed in his thoughts that he was startled by Drake entering the room where they both had their morning meeting every day. His best friend seemed content and was even grinning, something rather unusual for him.

“Hi, man!” Drake stood at the door “Fuck! You look like shit”

Liam chuckled “He! Thanks, Drake, as subtle as usual. I couldn’t sleep last night, I had lunch with father yesterday and it was rather … tense”

Drake grimaced at the mention of Constantine, he knew nothing good could come from a meeting with his “adoptive” father.

“Apparently, according to the polls, I need to become a family man as soon as possible, if I want to win the race”

“I don’t want to alarm you, my future president, but there is no way even you and your legendary charm would be able to pull a whole family in a few months.”

Liam sighed “I need to find a woman and get engaged or, according to my father, preferably married before the election day.”

“And he doesn’t think the people will see right through that?” Drake asked, arching his eyebrows.

“He thinks that if we choose the correct woman, it could look like we fell in love fast and it could raise my chances in the polls, is just…” Liam was standing next to the window, his gaze lost in the horizon before him.

“What Liam?”

“I don’t know if I can pull this trough. You know what it was to grow in a house where the parents hated each other. The five of us suffered enough because of it”

It was Drake’s turn to look out the window pensively. “Well, at least for the first part of my life, Savvy and I actually had a real family. It wasn’t the same for you guys, but I get it.” He turned to face Liam, “you don’t want your kids to grow up the way we did”

“Exactly.” Liam looked straight at Drake and added, “I’m aware that you and Liv took the worst part of it, Drake”

Drake cleared his throat trying to avoid the painful subject of his childhood at the Rhys’s mansion.

“Look, Liam, you have to face your father. Tell him that he doesn’t get to live through you, that you can be president and lead your own life”

“I told him I refuse to have an arraigned marriage, but the problem is that he’s right. I will never be able to win this race a single man. And you know how badly I want to change this country. All the progress I want to make, the laws I want to change…and for that to happen, I need to be president.” He sat on his desk “But, enough about that for now. What’s on the agenda for today?”

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Alexis O’Brien was lost in her thoughts, remembering the day her father had separated her from one of the few people she had ever loved. One day, he had just shipped her to that horrible reformatory in France pompously called “boarding school”. She was only 6 years old at the time, but she could still remember those first years: the solitude, the fear, the tears, and the constant punishments trying to make her the perfect lady that would marry well someday.

And that day had almost arrived.

“Liam Rhys …” She had googled him. He was an extremely handsome man with piercing blue eyes and a dashing smile. In all the photos he seemed like the perfect boyfriend, always wearing the perfect suit with expensive matching shoes. Alexis could bet anything that he was very polite and charming in all circumstances… never letting anyone see what he was really thinking. She had dated guys like that all her life. It was actually the only kind of guy her father allowed her to date until she could free herself at age 18. He pressured her to go out with wealthy boys whose parents had something to give him in exchange. Sadly, Alexis considered herself lucky because he was not trying to sell her to the fathers instead of the sons. Something she knew George O’Brien wasn’t above of. She just couldn’t believe she was trapped again, but the threat he held over her was impossible to ignore. The sound of her father and Constantine Rhys entering the office brought her back to reality.

“Dear Father, Constantine” the sarcasm in her voice was palpable “Here I am, what is the plan exactly?”

George O’Brien was about to respond when Constantine raised his hand. “Please Ambassador, let me explain it to your daughter.” George nodded.

“It is very simple Alexis. As you already know, you’re here to marry my son before the elections so he can be president and we can all win something.” Alexis snorted, but Constantine ignored her and continued.

“The problem is that this generation is filled with men full of romantic ideas that make them weak. Unfortunately for us, both my sons belong to that category. I know that if I imposed you to Liam as his wife, he’d be unable to either go with it, or look the part. The press would spot the lie in five minutes, and he would lose anyway. That’s why we need you to act like a normal suitor. He is aware that tonight there will be some appropriate women for him to choose a fiancé. You are a very beautiful woman, and I have no doubt in my mind that if it is you who seduce Liam, he’ll be charmed. In other words, he’ll feel that he fell in love with you, which will make your couple credible enough for him to win the elections.”

Alexis was furious before such a flagrant display of cynicism “Are you telling me that it doesn’t bother you to lie to your own son like that?”

It was George’s time to speak or rather to yell “That’s enough Alexis! You know very well what’s on stake here. Either you play your part of the bargain or you know who will pay the consequences”

Alexis paled at the threat, but tried to hide her fear answering with all the loath and contempt she was capable in one single sentence: “Don’t worry father, I’ll do it.”

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The ballroom that held the Masquerade was exquisitely decorated, Liam was impressed by the talents of Maxwell Beaumont. It was true that Max didn’t take most things seriously, but he was one hell of a party planner.

Liam started to mingle among the different guests with, as Drake loved to call it, his “candidate’s smile” all over his face. Although Liam was passionate about his country and wanted to make a real difference in it, he hated these events as much as his best friend did. It was always the same people, the same conversations, the same food.

He went to the terrace to have five minutes to himself when he saw an exquisite woman already standing there. She was tall and was wearing a beautiful white dress that suited her perfectly. Her long brown hair was on one side, so he could see her elegant neck and the curve of her back. She must have sensed his presence because she turned around to face him. Her mask was on her face, but he could still see that she had amazing dark eyes, bright and with streaks of gold on them. He looked at her mesmerized for a second.

“Sorry, miss.” Liam cleared his throat. He couldn’t believe how dense he was being, he was more than used to talk to beautiful women, but something about her made him incredibly nervous. She smiled at him.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Rhys. I was just enjoying the view. Cordonia's old castle looks beautiful from here."

"It does indeed, I see that you know who I am, maybe you can tell me your name as well," He said with a charming smile.

She grinned at him "I could but it might be more interesting to maintain the mystery a little longer"

"He, ok. What about this, you ask me one question, and if I guess correctly you tell me your name and you take off your mask"

"Haha!" She laughed with the most musical laugh he had ever heard "Aren't we a little ambitious?” She looked pensive for a second “Ok, one question, and if I like the answer, the name, and the mask go "

"Deal"

“What made you run as a Presidential candidate? And I demand a real answer Mr. Rhys and not the BS you politicians feed to the press.” She grinned with the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.

“Wow, you really don’t go around the bushes.” Liam paused to think before answering, wanting to tell her the truth “At first, it was my father’s dream. He was the grandson of the last Cordonian King, then he was the third elected president. He wanted us, Leo or me, to continue his legacy. He groomed us for it. But it wasn’t until I was a Senator here in Cordonia City that I started to see the importance of politics. I realized that instead of being another spoiled ‘son of’ I could be the person that would help Cordonia to evolve. That I could actually change the future of our nation. And I have a lot of plans for it.”

She could see in his eyes that he was being honest, there was something incredibly inspiring about him.

Liam smiled at her. “So…do I deserve to know you?”

She smiled back, taking off her mask at the same time. “My name is Alexis O’Brien”

Drake was standing next to the bar still thinking about the night before when he saw Liam talking to a woman. She was dressed in white and wearing a mask, but he could guess that she was beautiful. Liam seemed completely smitten by her. That thought made him happy. Liam deserved to find someone he’ll really love and who will love him in return, Drake knew how scared Liam was at the thought of living in a loveless marriage. He watched Liam say something to the woman’s ear, making her laugh. She definitely seemed as smitten as he was. They were both completely captivated by each other. Drake was about to turn around and give them some privacy when the woman grinned, taking off her mask.

Drake couldn’t believe his eyes. It was Elena.

#liam x mc #drakexmc #trr #drake x mc #axwalker writes #the trade

[kiraawrites]

2MSS #23: Quality of Life (?)

From @writingprompts post.

Day 23 of the 2 Month Short Stories Challenge w/ @flyingfalconflower12

Word count: 1978

Constructive criticism welcome!

I want money, a mansion and a pretty girl. That day was Life-Switching day. The day our souls would switch in a manner so unpredictable that it was nicknamed The Great Casino. We would enter new bodies, with different genders, ages and wealth levels. This system was supposed to address inequality. But I was not sure how, as it seemed to boil down to how well-off one was. 365 days to make it big, or bust.

It was my first time in America. Over the past few years, I had a streak of Eastern European lives, followed by four years of being in China. I was a James Luther, living in a small apartment in a city full of people adjusting to their new lives. There were many smiles but twice as many sad faces. Guess I'm really not alone in this struggle. The apartment was outfitted with furniture that seemed older than the apartment itself. In the cracked bedroom mirror, I studied my new self. Last year's Luther definitely didn't make it.

Judging by the poor furniture, unemptied wastebasket and an emerging beer belly, I had a lot of things to do. To my luck, there was a gym next door. With the few dollar bills in my wallet, I got a membership card and started on the machines. Did I really deserve this life? I've never liked anything I got — except when I was an attractive Chinese guy. Well, I suppose I did flunk my college final exams last year... Sweat was dripping off me as if I had walked through a thunderstorm. My arms were shaking. Flexing my biceps turned into a fit of agonising pain. I gave up and returned home.

"I hate this new life," muttered the man behind the counter.

"I hate my new life too."

Slumped behind my wooden desk, I thought of what to do next. Eventually, I logged onto the Citizen Database to check my occupation and credentials. It took a while, scrolling through hundreds of Jameses. Most of them were my level (judging wealth-wise) and that made me smile, albeit somewhat bitterly. When clicking my name, I held my breath and wished for the best.

I worked at a MacDonald's and skimmed through high school.

God forbid. I failed one test and now they're giving me someone who has failed a hundred. I groaned and pummelled the table with my fists. Y'know what? I'll give this guy one good year. No matter how far down I am on the social ladder, at least I can have an office job next year.

---------------------

The switch is all about your quality of life. What is that? I was manning the counter, taking orders in the high-speed lunch hour.  The faces before me were dulled down with drowsiness, their lips forming a flat line. Monotone voices said orders. Echoes of their souls. No one was living in the moment. Our thoughts were occupied by the next year; its blessings and damnations tantalising as always.

I'm stuck in this trap. Just like everyone else. Well, time to break out of it. I attempted a smile on the next customer. Her face remained grim, preoccupied with something else.

Another one at the counter. The same unchanged expression. Stiff hands enclosing credit cards. As the crowds thinned, my heart sank. People were taking their last bites of their Big Macs. The restaurant was silent except for the footsteps in the kitchen. We were all unhappy. Dissatisfied. It's a hopeless vicious cycle, ain't it?

An old woman pulled the door open. Eyes landed on her as she hobbled over to the counter, her walking stick dragging across the floor. Her eyes were downturned and watery. Every step she took looked as if it hurt.

"Good afternoon, madam. What can I get you?" I asked in my most cheerful tone. It was the best I could do for a stranger having a bad day.

"Dear lord, you are the first person I've seen with a smile today!" she croaked. "People like you give me hope for this world."

In her eyes was the warmth of genuine fondness. The corners of her lips crept upwards as she looked over me. Something in my head prompted me to grin, and she did too. It was a fragment of joy in the often-upsetting world. From then on, I greeted every customer with the same geniality.

---------------------

Stacked books glinted under my desk lamp. My hand tightened and loosened around a ballpoint pen as my eyes scanned over the question a few more times. It was nearing midnight and I was only on the second problem sum. Everything was tedious, much slower than it had been in any other year. The gears would not click.

The business course was carried out every weekday evening, just thirty minutes after my shift at a nearby community college. It was a small class with a subpar teacher that was barely warming up to his new profession. As I stumbled through lesson material, I kept a goal in my mind. I wanted a better job, something that would elevate me to a much higher position. An office job. Yes, that's what I want.

Ten minutes had passed. I threw down the pen, heaved a sigh of pent-up frustration and flung myself onto the creaking bed.

---------------------

Back at the gym. My arms felt like falling off. But I'm not as weak as before. I held my breath and pushed for the fifteenth rep on the machine. My chin reached the top of the bar and I dropped down; a dead stone.

"Good to see you, James. How long have you been coming here?" asked another man. "I remember when you couldn't even do five reps on that thing."

"Ten and a half months. Ever since the switch. Every other day, I'm here."

I clenched my fists and looked from one arm to another. I definitely had more muscle — they bulged as my arms tensed up. But that's not the main thing. Not at all. I felt so much better. It was the small things; being able to walk from A to B without exhausting myself or lifting a box without ever wanting to collapse.

With my towel, I wiped sweat from my forehead and waved the man goodbye. My thoughts flickered back to home. When are those interview results coming back? I need that job for next year, goddamnit.

---------------------

I flicked the lights on and surveyed the living room. The furniture was still the same: a second-hand sofa, a tiny table barely fitting two. An absolutely ugly home. But I love it, I thought as I sunk onto the sofa.

Most years were filled with a sense of impermanence. Time passing by, nothing mattering in the end. This year was different. I had changed my life; I had gripped it like a steering wheel and turned it around. I felt reborn. But it won’t matter in the end. This world is all about the money, and I need that job for it.

Rows upon rows of emails illuminated my face in the dark. They were all titled “Job Application for [Position Name]”. They didn’t even tell me whether I got in. Is that a bad sign? I shivered —  felt like puking. Rumbling deep in my stomach reminded me of the dinner I had yet to eat. I should get on with opening all five of them.

Number one. Rejected. Alright, not my favourite of them all anyway. Kinda underpaid too. I forced a smile. I’ll be alright.

Number two. Not my favourite, but the pay is good. That’s what matters. I opened it with trembling hands. Rejected. Biting my lips, I groaned. Guess I was a tiny bit unqualified.

Number three. If all these attempts have failed, is there even any time to settle into a new job? Rejected. I suck. My eyes were watering as breathing became difficult. The back of my throat was salty with suppressed tears.

Number four. Rejected. As expected. How stupid was I to think they would accept me? I rank so low compared to everyone else. I’ll never, never be able to escape this trap. The underside of my jaw was wet and cold. I gasped for air as I choked on my tears.

Number five. I was shaking head to toe. All my effort... Doesn’t it mean something? Rejected. My voice sounded throughout the whole house as I cried out in my confusion and pain, a knot forming in my chest.

Clenching my fists, I punched the wall. The plaster gave way beneath my fist, falling to the floor. I staggered back in shock. My foot caught on the legs of the nearby mirror. As it fell, I stretched my arms out. It slipped from my grasp and crashed on the floor. Small shards of glass were scattered across the floor like crystalline tears.

As I vacuumed the floor, I steadied my breathing and calmed down. There is a chance still. But I’m happier now than I was before, no matter what. No matter what.

---------------------

It was the night before Life-Switching day. I was rolling around in my bed, counting the seconds till midnight. The city was lively. Conversations droned on in bars and restaurants as people paid their last goodbyes to friends and fantasised about the future. Billboards were ready to switch to their “New Year, New Me” displays, attracting the few people fortunate enough to enter a life of wealth.

I still had no new job. At the back of my mind, it worried me. Yet, I had this sense that it was alright. A sense of contentedness passed over me for the first time in a while. Maybe it’s the finality of it all.

23:50. Ten minutes remaining. I found myself wishing to stay in this run-down apartment; remain as a man with a job at MacDonald’s. It was the newness of the drive to improve that made me want to stay, I knew. There was a potential to grow as James Luther, as I had witnessed.

23:59. One minute left. I gripped the edges of my bed and shut my eyes for the switch. It was coming, whether I liked it or not. I counted the seconds in my head. The last minute passed too fast. I snapped my eyes open, ready for the worst. However, I was there in that bed, staring at the plain white ceiling.

00:01, the bedside clock displayed. My phone showed the same as well. I peeked out of the window to see that the billboards had begun their campaigns. Something’s probably wrong. I’m so tired — might as well sleep.

09:00. Rubbing my eyes open, I looked around and expected a brand new apartment. But there it was: the mirror without glass and the desk beside it. The roof was pale white, as always. I must be dreaming. I pinched myself too hard and yowled.

At the front door, I grabbed the morning’s papers and scanned them for any anomalies. No. None! People were walking about as usual in the city. I pressed a palm against my forehead and thought hard. In the editor’s column was the yearly cheer up/congratulations nonsense. Having nothing else to calm my mind, I read it.

A few sentences caught my eye. “It’s all about the quality of life, they say. Nowhere does it mention material wealth or possessions. Does that mean a common man can break the trend?”

Nowhere. I spun around and gaped in realisation. I’ve been searching for the wrong thing this whole time! I found the key out of the trap! Someone was knocking my door. I opened it with a smile to find two black men in suits, their shoulders broad and imposing.

“We’d like your presence for an important government study.”

Taglist

@galaxy-charm @rhyseoshaughnessy @icedcoffeewriting @jiynix

#writeblr #my writing #writers of tumblr #writers #writing #kiraawrites #prose #2 month short stories #2MSS

[votederpycausemufins]

-Smiles widely at the camera that exists somewhere- Ah Grumbot, I’m so glad I remembered to add you in here.

@petrichormeraki

With the arrival of Mumbo and the bots, Grian and Tommy tried to introduce everyone to each other, but another message came in from Scar about doing paperwork with a mention that Iskall was there for the paperwork with Fundy. Immediately Mumbo flew off back towards the shopping district, Tommy barely getting the chance to cover Tubbo’s ears. Tubbee, who had also been brought down from the apiary floor, used Jrumbot as something to hide behind.

“Sorry about that. Iskall is just not the best at reading contracts and Scar likes to hide things in there for fun. If Mumbo hadn’t beat me to it, I would have gone instead since it’s quieter.”

“He forgot Tubbee doesn’t like fireworks.” Jrumbot spoke, petting the mob. 

“Exactly. Your dad can be very forgetful in the moment.”

Grumbot looked towards Tubbo and then took a few steps towards him. “You act like Tubbee. You must be President Tubbo. It is nice to meet the whole of you.”

Tubbo, who was trembling a little bit even though the sound had been muffled, looked down at Grumbot. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“I didn’t tell him that part yet.” Tommy quickly explained to his nephew.

“I see. It is something from what your admin did. In creating your ‘canon lives’ he made it so when you lost one, a part of your being would be broken off and cast somewhere else. I am not sure what happened to your other part as I do not have that information, but one did end up within this bee as it first spawned.”

Tubbo looked at the bee in Jrumbots arms and then smiled. “Perfect. Always wanted to be a bee.”

Jrumbot looked between Tubbo, Tommy, Tubbee and Grumbot. “Is Tubbee my uncle then?”

Grian picked Jrumbot up. Grumbot had gotten more of the smarts since he was built to be a computer to answer their questions. Took a little more after Mumbo that way. Jrumbot on the other hand had originally just been made to help sell stuff and was created on the younger side, so he wasn’t as smart. In fact, he was more like Grian if his affinity for shears, especially near his one dad’s mustache was anything to go by.

“Well, Tubbo is your uncle’s friend, maybe even an honorary uncle at that. And Tubbee isn’t quite the same. Besides, I don’t think Tubbee will mind if you don’t call him your uncle.”

Grumbot walked over to Philza. “You are Philza Minecraft. Former king of the Antarctic Empire and my dad’s father, making you my grandfather.” He then looked at Techno. “You are Technoblade, former prince of the Antarctic Empire and also seem to loathe all forms of government. We will not get along.”

Techno looked down at Grumbot with a neutral expression. “Smart kid.”

“Grumbot, how did you know that about your uncle?”

“The mayoral reservoirs of course. He would have been a danger to the mayoral campaign if he appeared.”

Grian stared his son down. “Are you telling me the entire time you knew about Techno.”

“Not his location, but I was aware of his character and other general knowledge.” Grian looked like he was about to blow a gasket. “Of course, you never asked, so I didn’t assume you wanted to know.”

“Grumbot, when we get home, only your brother is getting a diamond.”

Grumbot stared at his dad before saying a single word. “Fuck.”

Tommy smiled. He had taught his nephew well.

With a break in the conversation, Tubbo spoke up. “Well, I mean Philza has sort of been acting as my dad.”

That immediately grabbed Grian’s attention. “Why?”

“Well, I’m not sure exactly what happened. One moment I was in the car with my dad, next thing I know, I’m in a box on the side of the road.”

“Your dad abandoned you?”

“What? No! He would never!”

“Hey G, might be like what happened to you?” Tommy suggested. There was a pause where everything was quiet before suddenly Grian changed to have six purple eyes. “Grian! No!”

Grian closed them and crossed his arms as best as he could while still holding Jrumbot. “What’s the point of being a Watcher if I can’t actually be one.”

“You almost killed everyone a few hours ago.”

“Dad almost killed someone?” Jrumbot asked, looking worried. Grian shifted him to one arm so he could pat his son and comfort him.

“Yeah, things got crazy for a bit. That’s why we wanted you staying in the hobbit tunnels. Did you at least have fun there?”

The question cheered Jrumbot up. “Yeah! We made more tracks for jousting!” Jrumbot continued to talk about what he and Grumbot had been doing when a message came in on the comms “Dad, Daddy wants your help with Scar.”

Grian sighed. “Well, I guess now is as good a time as any to get that paperwork done. Hey Tommy, where’s your nether portal?”

Tommy led everyone down to the second floor and through a nether portal. Though Tubbo had already been there with Fundy, the rest hadn’t and were surprised by the builds that were in the nether.

“How did you do all of this?!” Wilbur asked, surprised. “We barely had stuff like this in the overworld!”

“It’s actually not that big compared to last season. We use the roof more and everyone has their own separate builds.” Grian’s family tried to resist the urge to shake him and or kill him at how normal he was making it sound. “I’ll have to show you the upside down later.”

Though it took a few small bridges here and there, it was rather quick getting them all back to the shopping district. As the portal was right under the town hall, the group was greeted by music as they came through back into the overworld.

“Is he wasting it on paperwork again?!” Grian asked incredulously to no one in particular. “This isn’t going to help us at all!”

“It actually makes sense this time as there is the potential consideration of people from here and the smp moving between each other.” Grumbot explained, making sure to glare down his anarchist uncle the entire time. “All the proper forms would need to be done to keep Hermitcraft safe from people willing to destroy it.”

“I’m going in there.” Tommy spoke up, quickly leaving the others behind. Just a moment later, he walked back out with papers in his hand. “I think these mean he doesn’t want to see us right now.”

“What exactly is going on?” Philza asked.

At the same time, Grian and Tommy gave an answer. “Superfast build mode.”

“What?”

“Scar uses vex magic to help speed himself up to do lots of work in a small amount of time. Usually he uses it for building, but recently he’s also been using it for all his mayor work.”

“I… see.”

“Anyway, Grumbot, can you look at the paperwork?” Grian took the papers from Tommy’s hands and gave them to his son. The robot rapidly read through all the papers at a speed that could potentially rival Scar’s own current speed.

“It’s really bad this time. Paying him diamonds, work clauses, extreme zoning laws for temporary housing. You can only grow wheat and chorus fruit, I’m assuming that’s actually a mistake.”

Tommy smiled. “You wanna go in there and fix it.”

Even if they wouldn’t all admit it, the smp members all had a shiver go down their spines as Grumbot spoke coldly and his screen face turned red. “Very much so.” And then he walked up the stairs to the town hall.

“Is he going to kill your mayor?” Wilbur asked, but Grian shook his head.

“No, he only was that serious the first time they met after we finally built his body. It’s only ever near deaths at most. I’m actually wondering if we have more elections if everyone will let Grumbot run.”

“I certainly won’t be giving him permission.” Came Mumbo’s voice as he exited town hall with Iskall and Fundy behind him. “Artificial life or not, he is still considered a child. And Tommy has given him too many ideas. Scar might be exiled for a few days.”

Techno looked like he was about to speak, but was shushed by Philza. 

“Techno, I know you don’t seem to like the government and all, but it works here. I’ve seen hundreds of worlds, so I know how it can all fall apart, but we have literally been doing this for years with not a single problem.”

“Grian.”

“With only one single problem.”

“Grian!”

“Okay, I cause the problems. Mostly. But Tommy helps me with that! But we only very minorly grief and even then it’s extremely rare. And we definitely don’t steal. It’s mainly harmless pranks like chickens everywhere or hiding something in your base that makes noises and you can’t find it.”

“Or secret base bros.” Tommy added in, making Grian look a little confused.

“Yeah, though we stopped doing that ages ago.”

“Or did we?” Tommy asked, somehow looking very racoonish.

Grian looked at his brother. “Okay, concerning, but we can talk about that later.” He turned back to the rest of his family. “In the meantime, I think we should have the discussion I think we’ve all been avoiding a little. Is it just going to be visits, or are you guys actually deciding to move here?”

“What do you mean? You’re not coming with us?” Philza asked, making Grian frown.

“No, of course not. No offense to your home, but it’s a bit of a mess and I’m not sure I could live there without losing my mind. I’m sure that eventually things will calm down, but I’m sure I couldn’t even make half a hobbit hole before it got messed with in some way. Visits are of course on the table, but I’m not going to be staying.”

“But you’ll just be by yourself again.”

“Um…” Tommy started to say, drawing attention over to him. “I’m actually going to mostly stay here. I know Dream is gone and Tubbo’s in charge now, but I just don’t think I can go back there just like that.”

Tubbo hugged Tommy and then Grian pulled the two of them into a hug with his wings. When Philza tried to take a step forward, Grian glared at him. “No. You were part of the problem. You don’t really deserve this right now.”

Mumbo went over to try and comfort Grian, but just ended up making him more agitated. Iskall pulled his fellow redstoner back then tried to change the topic. “So, Fundy, you said you’re Wilbur’s kid. That makes you Grian’s nephew, doesn’t it? That means you have cousins.”

“I do?” The fox hybrid asked before he was tackled by Jrumbot.

“Hi! I’m Jrumbot! Grian and Mumbo are my dads! My brother went in there to talk to Scar, so you may have seen him.”

“Yeah! I did! Wow! This is the best day of my life! I mean, other than the whole going to war part, but everything else was great! New family, hopefully a better server, and I got to hang out with Iskall!”

“That sounds amazing! I got to meet Tubbo! He’s just as fun as Tubbee!” Jurmbot said, happy to share about his day to a new face.

“They seem to get along just fine.” Iskall chuckled. The comment seemed to help Grian relax a bit and he reluctantly released Tommy and Tubbo from his wings.

“Look dad, I’m happy I found you after all these years. But you being my dad doesn’t change the things I saw you do. You sided with people, not ideas, and because of that you would change what you stood for on a moment's notice just to side with someone you cared about. But that hurt others you cared about at the same time. I’ve been hurt enough in my life. Tommy has too. Things here are safe and stable and even then we don’t always have the best days. I don’t normally curse, but it should get the point across. I am terrified of getting close to you right now and you finding a way to fuck up out lives.”

Mumbo and Iskall shared a look. While it might not get through to the newcomers, they had known Grian long enough to know just how serious he was being. They had both seen just how bad it could get for Grian and Tommy and how helpless they felt sometimes when trying to help the brothers.

Philza was quiet for a while before giving a simple understanding nod. “Thanks dad.”

“Well Grian, I’m sure that it’s been a long day for everyone. I’m sure people are tired and hungry and there’s plenty of paperwork to do. How about once Grumbot is finished, we head over to my Hobbit hole for some food.”

Grian smiled at Mumbo. “That sounds nice. Dinner with the whole family!”

Everyone was pleasantly surprised when they saw Mumbo’s hobbit hole. It was a much more reasonable size. They hadn’t seen Mumbo’s real base quite yet though, so they assumed this was it. It was still quite large from the bumbo baggins society expansion, but that meant plenty of room for everyone to sit at for a meal. 

While there was plenty of variety, golden carrots were the most plentiful and they were gladly eaten for their high saturation. The visitors from the SMP tried not to stare as the bot children were given bowls of nether quartz and red stone to eat. It was hard to even comprehend how they were eating at all as their heads were just computer monitors yet somehow it just worked.

A cake was placed on the table as a joke for all the birthdays everyone had missed but they ended up actually singing. Following that, the dreaded paperwork began, though it was easier to handle now that everyone had a slice of the delicious treat.

While Philza, Wilbur, Techno and Fundy signed paperwork for simply visiting Hermitcraft, Tubbo signed one for visits and for residency. “Tubbo, are you planning to stay?” Tommy asked when he noticed the papers in front of his friend. 

“Well… I would like to. This place seems so nice… but with me being admin now, I need to help the smp. But maybe I can have extended stays in the future.”

Grian looked at Tubbo sympathetically. “Tubbo, you don’t have to be the admin. I’m sure you can find someone you trust enough to move the powers to if you want to stay here.”

“But you made me admin.”

“You were nearby and I knew you probably wouldn’t do anything horrible as admin, but you don’t have to keep them. You are still a kid. You don’t need to keep that responsibility if you want something else.” When Tubbo didn’t look convinced, Grian sighed. “If you want, we can make someone else admin, and if it doesn’t work, you just call me over and I’ll take them away again.”

“Grian, there’s a good chance you could kill someone doing that.”

“And I wouldn’t regret it!”

“Yes you would.”

“Okay maybe.”

Mumbo just gave a very tired sounding sigh.

As dinner was wrapping up, Grian pulled Grumbot over to a side room. “Alright, you were able to help Tommy out with Tubbo and apparently you knew more about Techno than you were going to tell me.”

“That is true.” Grumbot answered. “But you two build me the way you did.”

“I know, and I really regret it.” Grian pulled out a diamond. “Grumbot, do you know anything about Tubbo’s dad?”

Grumbot took the diamond and then processed the question. He was silent for a few long moments, making Grian start to believe that there was nothing Grumbot could find on the man. But just as he was losing hope, Grumbot spoke again.

“He’s called The Captain.”

#hermit!tommy au #hermit!tommy #grian #grian xelqua #tubbo #grumbot #jrumbot #mumbo jumbo #philza #wilbur soot #technoblade #itsfundy #iskall85

[murasaki-murasame]

A whole buncha shit went down in Chapter 12 today and we got a new Chimera fight to begin shaking up the shadow meta in preparation for the new mana spiral batch and the new Agito fight, but like 90% of my brainpower is currently being spent thinking about how the new influx of wyrmite rewards let me do another tenfold on the Valentine’s banner, which finally got me Epimetheus.

But I still have some thoughts on the new chapter so I’m gonna put them under a cut because of spoilers

I’m feeling extremely vindicated in my choice to dream summon Laranoa, since chapter 12 ended up having flame enemies, and she even showed up in the story, which is like the last thing I saw coming.

Even though my water team is probably my weakest one overall, I didn’t actually have too much difficulty with anything up until the last couple of Very Hard battles, which I wasn’t able to do, and probably won’t be able to for a while.

I still think that the higher difficulty main campaign maps are really fun and well-balanced, though. It’s pretty rare to get challenging content based around dealing with waves of mob enemies. It really forces you to play differently, especially in Very Hard where every enemy hits super hard.

And on the note of the main bosses in the chapter, I’m still wondering if the whole deal with the cube bosses is actually gonna lead somewhere. Thus far they’re just this giant question-mark with no real in-universe explanation or acknowledgement, and their whole sci-fi vibe and the cryptic references to space probes just feels like the exact opposite of how the rest of the game is. It’s possible that they’re just there to be challenging boss fights with no real context behind them, but I kinda hope something happens with them. Maybe once we’ve gotten one for each element.

Story-wise this chapter was shorter and a bit less eventful than I expected, but it was still really fun. It really feels like things are heating up now. Especially with how it ended, it really feels like the first half of a two-chapter story arc, so that’s probably why it felt kinda brief. It definitely raised a lot of interesting questions that’ll probably get addressed in the next chapter.

First of all, the big elephant in the room is the reveal that apparently we’re going to see the fifth heir in the next chapter, which just kinda came out of nowhere, lol. I really thought they’d be a mystery for longer than this.

It’s not like there’s anything to go on one way or another, but I kinda hope that the fifth heir is that wyrmclan leader we saw that looks a whole lot like Euden. But who knows.

They’re still a huge mystery, but the stuff with Phares in this chapter makes me think that the fifth heir is somehow involved in the whole concept of black mana and how it corrupts dragons, if we’re meant to assume that Phares showing up with the void dragons at the end of the chapter was related to him getting help from the fifth heir. Which might explain why Chelle and Leonidas seemed genuinely freaked out at the idea of Phares working with their mystery sibling. I don’t think the idea of black mana has been introduced or explored at all outside of the descriptions of the void bosses, so it’ll be cool if it gets properly explored soon.

And on that note, I really wasn’t expecting this chapter to provide an actual in-universe explanation for stuff like the void dragons and the IO bosses. It’s not a huge deal, but it’s nice that the void dragons aren’t just in their own little weird pocket of ambiguous canon.

It’s kinda weird to see the main story basically introduce the concept of void battles when those have been in the game forever, but it’s nice to see them finally addressing it, lol.

The whole deal with Leonidas talking about ‘dracoshifting’ is also totally a hint at a future game mechanic, isn’t it? People have been wondering for a while now if there’s going to be some sort of revamp to dragons as a mechanic to basically rebalance them according to the current needs of the endgame meta, and I could totally see some variation of what Leonidas did to Mars being used to explain a new mechanic about buffing existing dragons. I imagine that if we get to do it, we’d do it in a more humane way than Leonidas, but still.

I’ve been thinking ever since they introduced mana spirals for adventurers that dragons should probably get something like that to make them better, and I could see this basically being how they do it. I dunno exactly how they’d do it, but maybe it’ll be like promoting dragons to make them stronger and giving them a new sci-fi design like Mars has. There’s definitely a lot of old dragons that need some sort of buff to make them more relevant. I’d want it to be slowly rolled out for specific dragons that need it, though, like with mana spirals.

Mainly I think that the 60% strength dragons probably need a buff since we’re starting to get conditional 80% strength dragons, but there’s also other relatively weak 5-star dragons like Prometheus, Takemikazuchi, Nidhogg, etc, that could use a buff.

This also might be a good way for them to make it worthwhile to actually be shapeshifted for a while, instead of just using the dragon to use a single skill or to tank a hit. At the moment they’re basically all weaker than if you weren’t shapeshifted, but maybe this sort of buff would also lead to their shapeshifted forms being way better. Which would at least be great for characters like Xainfried, Mym, Lathna, etc.

I’m also kinda wondering now if this chapter might be setting up for Leonidas joining us and being playable eventually. It kinda feels like that’s what they’re setting up, but honestly I kinda hate all of Euden’s siblings and I don’t really want to see any of them become our allies, lol. Also Leonidas would probably just be a flame sword, and we really don’t need more of them.

On a similar note I think it’s pretty safe to say that we’re probably getting Gala Alex next month. I dunno if I’ll go out of my way to save for her, but we’ll see. I’m curious to see what her gala alt would play like, though, especially if she’s still a shadow unit. There’s just a whole lot of competition in shadow at the moment. Either way, I think she’ll probably end up being a sword. Shadow doesn’t really have any noteworthy sword units at the moment, so that’d be nice.

Once we get into March I might start saving for her, but for now I’m probably gonna put some resources into the new dragon banner, since all of the featured ones really interest me [especially Apollo since I don’t have him yet], and I just got Epimetheus so now I’m done with the Valentine’s banner.

That also reminds me that at this point it’s basically confirmed that both Epimetheus and the three old Valentine’s adventurers are permanent now, which is really interesting. I guess this means that later this year they’ll make the old Halloween and Christmas units permanent, too. That’d be a nice way to keep introducing new holiday units without it getting bloated and hard to manage. And honestly most of the older holiday units aren’t particularly good anymore, so there’s no real harm in making them permanent. RIP in pieces to all the people who whaled for V-Hilde, though, lol. Maybe now that she’s permanent she has a chance of getting a mana spiral to make her better.

Anyway, I’ve felt a little let down by some of the recent story chapters, but I ended up really liking this one. Now I’m excited to see what reveals and developments the next chapter brings.

I’m also still extremely hyped about the upcoming shadow mana spiral batch, and the new Agito fight. I’m still clinging onto my pipe dream wish of them improving Norwin by making him more like V-Addis or Natalie. I’ve actually been thinking some more about the different ways that could go [even after I made a whole post about it lmao], and I think it’d be interesting if in addition to adding an enmity effect to his S1, they added an effect to his S2 where he takes non-lethal damage relative to the amount of damage he does to the enemy with the skill, as a way to manually get him down to low health. So I guess in that case he’d be more like a shadow version of Chelsea, which could be fun. I also think there’s a lot of interesting things they could do with him by, say, adding a team health regen effect to his Blind = Team Strength ability. But who knows. I just want him to get some special attention and become genuinely good because I really love him, lol. Though in general I like the idea of them using mana spiral upgrades to basically give certain characters a whole different play-style. Sorta like how Karl can now be used more or less as a buffer, but that has more to do with D-Rathalos than Karl’s mana spiral. It’s still an interesting way to give older units a niche in the meta.

#murasaki rambles #dragalia lost #I immediately gave Epimetheus most of my Valentine's card items because he has all my uwus

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #437

Top Ten Predictions for the Xbox Games Showcase

So I wasn’t going to do this. I had my “Games Month” in June; that was supposed to be me getting it out of my system whilst the various publishers and platform holders held their Not-E3 video livestreams. That was supposed to take the place of my usual semi-serious lists of E3 predictions; a variety of more generalised run-downs of Stuff To Do With Videogames rather than me saying “A New Perfect Dark” ten times.

But then Microsoft’s “Showcase” event turned out to be the back-end of July, the videos and livestreams kept on pouring in, and I found myself ever devouring more salacious rumours of what games were upcoming, especially for the Xbox Series X. I have even found myself reading – shudder – Reddit.

I know.

Anyway, from being a simple thought experiment of “I wonder what games will be out when the Series X launches?” through to me imagining a blow-by-blow runthrough of the July 23rd event, I guess you could say that I am excited despite my better judgement. I think my problem with videogaming as a hobby is that I retain my fanboy enthusiasm from when I was a ten-year-old eagerly awaiting the next issue of The One Amiga, frantically swapping all eleven disks of Monkey Island 2, but I’m a grown-ass man with a mortgage and two kids and I just don’t have the time. I love reading websites like Eurogamer, and going on forums and checking out Twitter threads and all that, devouring news and titbits about all manner of gaming ephemera, and I often think when do these people have the time?!

Now look, I know hobbies, if you commit to them, can be expensive in terms of money and time. I have friends who collect Transformers toys, and let me tell you, that shit ain’t cheap. But daisy-chaining triple-A RPGs together feels like a lifetime commitment. I’m still playing Mass Effect Andromeda and Titanfall 2. I’ve just started Breath of the Wild and I’m waiting to kick off The Witcher III once I complete something else. I operate about two to three years behind the curve, and with work and kids and other commitments I struggle to find space for the oodles of games I do have, especially because most of the time I just end up on Civilization VI again. And yet…

The lure of the new still excites me. I really want to play all those Sony games on a Sony console that I don’t even own. I’m fascinated by the divergent next-gen philosophies of the big three platform holders. I can’t wait to see what the games I already own will look like embiggened on a 4K TV thanks to a suitable next-gen console. And so I keep consuming this stuff, keep wanting to try the latest thing, keep wanting to be part of the narrative. I’m still excited.

Therefore I’ve decided, against my better judgement, to offer up a prediction list like I usually do at E3 time. This one is just focussed on the upcoming Xbox Showcase on July 23rd. I doubt I’ll do one for the two remaining big showcases in August – I believe both Sony and Microsoft are doing one apiece, where we might finally hear prices of these damn things – because I think by the end of the month all the big game news might finally be out there. Aside from guessing how far off £500 both machines land, I think we’ve probably heard all the major announcements. Maybe I’m wrong! I’m wrong quite a lot! But that’s part of the fun.

So here we go: ten things that probably aren’t going to be announced next Thursday!

Halo Infinite opens the show – and is playable: we know that Halo Infinite will debut some campaign gameplay. As more-or-less a known quantity (even if we don’t know exactly what it’ll look like or how it’ll play), kicking things off with Xbox’s biggest star makes sense and won’t deflate any surprises. What I think might happen, though, is the announcement of some kind of multiplayer demo or closed beta, maybe only for Game Pass subscribers or something. They’ve done it before with Halo, so it’d be nice to get a chance to play one of the year’s biggest games early.  

Hellblade 2 in-engine trailer: Senua’s Saga looks amazing so far, with a phenomenal launch trailer that displayed vast landscapes, intense detail, and some truly awesome facial animation. There’s a lot of speculation that, whilst the trailer was apparently in-engine and running in realtime, it was a fancy cut-scene with “hero assets”. I might have missed a memo somewhere, but I don’t think Hellblade 2 has been confirmed as a “launch window” title; as such, I think it will end up a Series X exclusive (as in, not appearing on Xbox One) and be out Christmas 2021. As such we won’t see a considerable gameplay chunk as with Halo, but we will see some proper in-engine footage – not a cutscene – running on Series X hardware.

Fable IV is out next year: is it an open secret at this point that Playground Games is making a Fable game? I guess maybe they’re not. Maybe there’s not even a new Fable at all. But I think there is, and I think Playground are making it, and I think we’ll see it next week. I guess it probably won’t be coming too soon; maybe Christmas 2021? So I think there’ll be a launch trailer of some kind – hopefully a Hellblade-style in-engine one rather than a rendered movie – but it’ll be a pretty big to-do to close out the show (unless there’s some other surprise “…and one more thing”).

Minecraft ray-tracing: we’ve seen it before, and I’m not sure how much time it’ll take up in the run of things, but I think Microsoft will confirm that there will be a ray-tracing graphics update for Minecraft on Series X. It’ll be part of some other line-wide update, of course – maybe the fabled “Super Duper Graphics” update that was cancelled once before – but Series X owners (or PC owners with the right hardware) will get lots of lovely rays to trace.

Gears Tactics on Xbox this Christmas: the Coalition said their piece about Gears 5 on Series X this week, so I don’t expect them to have a huge presence on Thursday (Gears 6 presumably being too far off), but I think we’ll get a trailer for the excellent Gears Tactics running on Xbox, and confirmation of a Christmas release for one of my favourite PC games of 2020.

Cyberpunk 2077 on Series X: all the footage we’ve seen of Cyberpunk thus far has been – I do believe – running on high-end PCs. CD Projekt Red should have a presence on Thursday, and I think they’ll debut footage – actual proper gameplay – of Cyberpunk running on a Series X. I think we’ll also see further evidence of a cosy relationship with Microsoft, as they announce something – maybe exclusive DLC – as well as just maybe some Cyberpunk-themed Series X hardware. I also think they’ll announce a Series X update for The Witcher III: Wild Hunt.

Big Double Fine blowout: Microsoft’s purchase of Double Fine really excited me, because I’ve been a big Tim Schafer fan for decades. Aside from Psychonauts 2, we don’t know a great deal about what they’re up to. So I think we’ll see a lot of Psychonauts, as well as confirmation of a Christmas release. We’ll also get confirmation of classic LucasArts remasters – Day of the Tentacle, Full Throttle, and Grim Fandango – as well as something else. I’m not sure what. A remaster of the first Psychonauts? Brütal Legend 2? Scurvy Scallywags Series X? what I don’t think it’ll be, however, is any kind of Banjo Kazooie game, because I don’t really think Microsoft bought them to work on existing IP. I think we’ll see something new.

Third-party shenanigans: aside from Cyberpunk, I think we’ll get at least one other extended third-party trailer. Maybe Destiny 2, given the first game’s apparent preference for PlayStation? Maybe one of those military shooters everybody likes but me? Splinter Cell, which is becoming the perennial white elephant during Ubisoft presentations (and obviously has prior as an OG Xbox exclusive)? Or maybe we’ll see something like the announcement of Red Dead Redemption 2 as a Smart Delivery title. That would be pretty cool.

Japanese presence: I’m not sure what exactly, but I think Microsoft will make moves to entice the Japanese market. Perhaps it’ll be like the early days of the Xbox 360, when they published the likes of Blue Dragon. Maybe we’ll see a Western release of some venerated Japanese franchise. Or maybe some other sequel or reboot. Maybe it’ll even be the rumoured announcement of some kind of exclusive partnership with Sega? Who knows? Regardless I think we’ll see evidence of Microsoft making more of an effort in Japan; I think this will be part of a strategy to encourage Japanese gamers to subscribe to Game Pass/xCloud rather than buy more consoles.

One last thing: there’ll be a surprise. Everyone’s predicting everything, but I still think there’ll be a surprise. After the dust settles, good old Phil Spencer (t-shirt prediction: Viva Pinata) will leave us with a little something… a tease, a subtle tease, maybe even just a logo or character reveal. It could be a returning franchise, it could be The Initiative’s debut game, but I’d wager it’s something unexpected, something we’ve never heard anything about. It’s something that’s a long way off, but it’ll have a style or a hook or a brand that instantly makes everyone excited, and will bring the curtain down. Microsoft has largely done a good job establishing itself as a solid platform the last three or four years, but it’s sorely been lacking in mic-drop moments as hardware news is teased and studio acquisitions have taken time to bed in. So whether it’s Joanna Dark, a Mech, Banjo, or something I can’t fathom, we’ll leave on a high.

There we go: ten relatively reasonable, moderately level-headed predictions. I don’t think there’s anything too crazy there. I’ve not gone all-in on a huge Perfect Dark blowout, or Viva Pinata returning, or Microsoft buying Sega or Warner Bros or whatever else could be dreamed up. I’m sure there’s other stuff too; probably some gameplay from previously-announced titles like The Medium or (hopefully) Scorn, that really show off Series X capabilities; no doubt a montage or two, probably of some ID@Xbox games; Forza Motorsport 8, I guess, and I’d wager some info on Flight Simulator on Xbox. I do hope they make the whole presentation look nice though; Sony’s one, where they finally revealed the PS5 hardware, was excellent, with just enough talking-head developer stuff and those lovely idents that served to whet the appetite and tease the eventual look of the machine. We know there’ll be no new hardware or discussion about evolving services, so really all we’ve got to look forward to are games, games, games, which makes a nice change from the reveal of the Xbox One all those moons ago.

Okay, so my absolute crazy just-for-me wish? Well, things are getting thin on the ground now, as the big things I always want from Microsoft – Fable, Crackdown, Perfect Dark – have either happened or are strongly rumoured. Viva Pinata is next on that list, but beyond that? How does Black and White Infinite sound? That’s right, baby, next on my list – Lionhead rebooted!

#top ten #microsoft #xbox #xbox series x #halo infinite #games #gaming #xbox showcase

[makeste]

more essaying about AFO and whether or not he’s the final villain

so @thequietmanno1 , I finally have some time to sit down and answer your asks so let’s get to it lol. I’ll start with the most recent one.

Gonna put my hat in the ring with you and @addermoray about AFO. I agree that currently he intends to turn everything over to Tomura. That was a good point about his little private insight into what makes a good teacher and how it reflected on his intentions going forward with his student. It makes sense for a successful villain like AFO to have the kind of personality and quick judgement to know when to fold em, or change the game up if your current hand won’t get you a satisfactory result. He’s has literal generations to learn how to be an effective evil overlord, so he must be used to playing a mean game of Xanatos speed chess depending on the situation so he always walks away with an advantage.

Switching from raising Tomura to be his loyal tyke bomb to being his own independent villain and leader may explain why Tomura’s development seemed so incomplete in his first appearance. I know that he needed to experience defeat to begin maturing into someone more competent and capable of handling himself, but at the same time, his attitude during the USJ invasion seemed a little too immature for someone his age- like he wasn’t exactly on the same emotional maturity level his body and mind were at after AFO had finished giving him basic training to prepare him. I guess AFO losing his head and not being able to push Tomura’s development forward in a new direction means Tomura got stuck emotionally for a few years whilst his master semi-recovered, not helped by the fact that AFO’s previous grooming attempts were intentionally preventing him from dealing with the emotional scars of his familial massacre. So he kinda stagnated for a bit until All Might and Deku knocked him off his high horse.

(you know what, I’m gonna put the rest of this under a cut; it’s a very long post lol)

After AFO realised he’d basically permanently lost his dream to take over the world, I can totally see him reacting to that in a very thought-out and methodical - but still very immature - way, not unlike the tantrums his pupil used to pull. Destroying the whole board so it’ll end on his terms. I don’t know if he planned for Tomura’s vision of the future to be one where you can rebuild society however you want and the survivors will be free to act how they please, or if he wanted Tomura to turn Japan into a living hellhole for everyone until there’s nothing left for anyone to work with, both heroes and villains. It could be both, frankly; given his adaptability levels I mentioned earlier, he could be fine with either outcome, so long as the society All Might created is destroyed in the process. In any regard, it’s quite likely that he planned the whole situation under the assumption that he’s going to kick the bucket at some point before he got thrown into Tartarus. But if he learns about Eri’s rewind quirk, I think that’ll prompt another change in priorities for him- though obviously that won’t happen until he’s outside.

I’m not sure if Tomura will kill him himself, unless there’s a drastic change in priorities. Like addermoray said, even if he did give Tomura his quirk, he’d still be grateful for it after his recent liberation, so he won’t kill him for his family’s deaths and whilst AFO still has such a highly useful quirk to pass onto him. His dialogue very much stated that was the eventual plan, so AFO is probably safeish until then. Besides, in either scenario, Tomura feels indebted to AFO for being the only one who noticed him and ‘saved’ him from his abused and ignored lifestyle. Really, I think, if anything, AFO would probably set himself up to kill or be killed by Deku in a final confrontation to further motivate Tomura to become the new Symbol of Chaos and focus his efforts on destroying Deku’s fledgling Symbol. See, going forward, I very much see AFO getting out of prison, but then choosing to leave Tomura running the organisation he’s built up in his absence- which won’t require any management from AFO himself anyway- and focus all his effort on analysing and psychologically manipulating Deku from behind Tomura’s back whilst the latter is focused on his current campaign of societal collapse, like the Joker focusing on breaking Batman’s spirit.

See, the thing I think a lot of people miss about Deku is that he is by far the youngest inheritor of OFA so far. I mean it seems obvious given his age and inexperience with the power that is way beyond what his predecessors had to deal with, but in All Might’s flashback to what I presume is his first meeting with Nana and his own Origin story, it looked like teen Might was a few years older than Deku at the time, and that was before he had to be trained to handle the power. We know that at the very least, he had the quirk and was doing heroics against AFO by 18, but you’ve got to remember that AFO being on the scene and in his prime meant Yagi’s era was more chaotic and dangerous for everyone than Deku’s is, so it’s likely that Yagi was already more prepared for the combative lifestyle that Deku was, even with the fact that he inherited OFA a few years later than him and having had time to sort out his resolution with the power. As opposed to Deku, who basically wanted to be All Might and spent a lot of time getting that hammered out of his skull, and has had issues with sorting out what kind of hero he’s supposed to become through his own merits, given his vague terms of describing his ambition.

Whilst it’s not determined when everyone got the power, we know that the First Wielder was an adult when it first manifested, and given the ages of the other generations that we’ve seen, I think it was implied that they were all chosen after they’d proved themselves capable of using the power against AFO, meaning they all had various heroic and emotional experience before getting OFA. Actually, I’m not certain, but I think it’s implied that Yagi was the youngest chosen before Deku, which, given his quirklessness and youth, makes it more poetic that he was ultimately the one to take him down twice.

That said, Deku is clearly not as prepared for going up against someone like AFO as the other Wielders were, either physically or mentally. All Might ushering an era of peace means that Deku doesn’t have nearly the same level of experience the others did by his age, and his whole 100% power/7 quirks thing is further complications in him becoming a new symbol asap. One aspect of this was time- All Might’s wounds and weakening health were pressuring him to find a successor more than AFO, who already had a handy-dandy prepped tyke-bomb in Tomura available- the perks of planning ahead. So when All Might Found Deku, it was a snap decision, and one he feels justified in, but it also meant Deku was rushed through the basic requirements of being able to Hold OFA without being prepared to actually ‘use’ it. His first smash came whilst he was under fire in the middle of a high-level exam for Christ’s sake, and All Might getting his own teacher taken away from him when he was still in school means he’s never been taught by someone else on how to be a good teacher, or how to recognise when he’s being a bad teacher. Not to mention the whole natural genius thing.

Point is, I don’t think any of the other Wielders made their choices so soon after meeting them, and probably not before they’d given them some advanced preparations for passing the power on to someone who was ready and capable of using it for a good cause. Adding to that, AFO’s got an unexpected advantage over Deku compared to the others- he knows who he is and where to find him. I think it’s heavily implied that past the first wielder, the others had to raise their successors in secret once they’d outed themselves to AFO as the next wielders, so he couldn’t pre-emptively cut the chain of succession, since if AFO knew who the next person was, he’d have ended them before they got a handle on their new power. Being in a more chaotic age- and the implication that they were older and more independent than Deku- meant the successors were capable of avoiding AFO’s gaze when needed, so they made up for their lack of All Might strength with subterfuge and tactical thinking whilst the power grew. Heck, All Might himself had to leave Japan for America so he’d be capable of handling himself and his abilities to the fullest when he returned. Deku doesn’t have that advantage- he’s in a school, with close friends and family, all of whom AFO can use to force him to fight him if needed. But I see him taking his time with this. Deku’s an unknown variable to AFO- he didn’t know about him till the USJ attack was finished, and after that the ball was already rolling on his incarceration scheme, so he didn’t make any moves. But once he’s out, I forsee him using his new lease on life to learn all about the new OFA holder and what makes him tick, as well as subtly messing with him in indirect means.

Given his declining health, and based on the fact he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to waste away in a medical bed, I totally believe there’s going to be a showdown between them at some point, with AFO banking on either killing Deku and ending OFA for good, or further motivating Shigaraki if he falls. Granted, Eri’s quirk may change his mind on this, but again, AFO’s adaptable- I can totally see him having thought that outcome up after learning about Deku, and considering it a good way to go out. Regarding that Showdown, whether in his prime or at the end of his currant lifespan, I totally believe that’s when AFO would bring up any revelations about Tomura’s fall from grace. Like Addermoray said, it wouldn’t affect Shigaraki anymore- but it would affect the previous wielders through Deku, specifically Nana. I can totally see AFO using that family drama and revelations against his deceased nemeses by emotionally compromising Nana, and through that, perhaps disrupting whatever “avatar state” setup Deku goes into when he converses with them before getting down to brass tacks with him whilst he can’t contact them for advice.

In any regard, AFO’s definitely gonna be focused solely on Deku when he gets out- he’s totally done with All Might, having done everything he could to undermine him as a heroic symbol of peace before he was taken out. And leaving him to rot, powerless to help in the rising chaotic times, would be sweet revenge for him, forcing All Might into a similar position he himself was in. Shigaraki will be running whatever Empire he’s building just fine without AFO, and even if he intends to replace him eventually, AFO will probably consider Deku the more pressing engagement now that he’s got some room to think and work on his own terms. Running an evil empire is probably very taxing work, and very time consuming, which is probably why he didn’t take the OFA wielders as seriously as he should have until All Might’s time. So now he’ll be free to relax and get to know Deku before he attempts to utterly break him. Whichever way that turns out, I do think there will be some genuine Villain respect on his behalf towards Deku- there’s a lot of points those two have in common, so I think he’ll see a little of himself and his brother in this newest successor.

--- 

okay, a lot of different points here, so I’ll try to break them down and address them one by one. these aren’t necessarily in order either:

(1) good points about AFO probably shifting gears on Tomura after receiving his injury. clearly that would have thrown a wrench into his plans, regardless of what said plans actually were.

(2) about Deku being the youngest inheritor of OFA “by far” -- I have doubts that this is the case. young Toshinori was wearing a middle school uniform in the anime flashback when he spoke with Nana about wanting to become society’s pillar, so that would put him at the same age Deku was in chapter one, if not younger. moreover, you have to consider that young All Might was very much in the same boat Deku was as far as wanting to attend U.A. despite being quirkless. so it’s very likely that Nana pulled something similar to what he himself later did with Deku. otherwise it’s hard to envision how he could have passed the U.A. entrance exam. so I’d say chances are good All Might was the same age as Deku was when he inherited OFA, if not younger.

(3) I think Deku is actually more prepared than the other wielders in some ways, even as he lags behind in others. consider, first of all, the fact that he managed to pull off something none of the other wielders even knew about, much less came close to achieving, with the SIXQUIRKS. so there’s that. and then the other advantage that I think he has over the past wielders is that the other OFA users appear to have been loners, by and large. most likely for the reasons you laid out -- they had to lie low so as to prevent AFO -- who at the time was at his full power -- from taking them out, along with their loved ones. by contrast, Deku is exposed, so in that regard he’s much more vulnerable. but he also has a great advantage that none of the other wielders so far have had -- he’s not alone. it’s not just the bad guy who knows his secret. his teacher knows. his rival knows. he’s not fighting this battle alone. and that’s going to be critical moving forward. AFO may find it more difficult to break him than he anticipates. and frankly, his emotional naivete may prove to be as much of an advantage as it is a weakness, if not more so. he has resilience and optimism and those are critical strengths.

(4) I think we have different ideas as far as Horikoshi’s endgame plans for the series. the main thing I keep coming back to is Horikoshi’s pacing. this is a remarkably fast-paced story as far as the shounen genre typically goes. the one time he intentionally dragged an arc out, (a) he got bored his own damn self, and (b) despite his best efforts he couldn’t make it longer than 40 chapters. compare that to your average arc in Naruto or One Piece. compare that to fucking Dressrosa arc, or the damn Soul Society arc in Bleach. my point is, Horikoshi knows how to be concise. and a key thing is that he’s said in interviews that he doesn’t intend for the story to drag out forever. he’s a perfectionist, and he knows he doesn’t have infinite energy or infinite ideas, and I think he’d like to end things while he’s still on top. he also knows how he wants to end the story, and he’s mindful of making sure he’s constantly driving the plot forward. in this interview, he mentions he originally wanted the story to end around volume 30 (we’re currently in what will become volume 25), but he’s acknowledged he’s still got a lot of stuff he needs to set up, so the original target is clearly way off. but still, I think it’s a safe bet this series won’t be dragged out as long as others.

so that being said, when we consider future developments in the story, I think we need to take into account how much time there is left in the story. there isn’t time for characters to be slow and crafty in their schemes. we’re at a point where just about all the pieces needed for endgame have to be in place already, or at least established. we can’t expect new plot twists to keep being introduced. so while I like the idea of AFO playing the long game when it comes to Deku, I’m not sure how likely that actually is to happen. proper mind fuckery takes some time to pull off. I think it’s more likely we’ll see an accelerated version of that, if anything, with their relationship being crafted in the span of just one or two arcs rather than it being a more drawn out thing.

(5) so basically, here’s a quick rundown of where I personally see the story going 

Tomura completes his Rise to Power and starts to make good on his vow to end the world

the pros and police struggle and take heavy losses in several high-profile incidents, resulting in further instability to a society already beginning to show its cracks. things begin to look kind of bleak

Deku -- now under intense pressure to unlock the rest of his new powers as quickly as possible -- is of course somehow intricately tied to every single one of these incidents, and continues to grow stronger while somehow escaping through the skin of his teeth

rinse and repeat as things build to a head

AFO breaks out of prison and joins the League in an attack on U.A.

he steals Eri’s quirk and is restored to power. meanwhile, Tomura kills All Might, but also learns of AFO’s manipulations in the process. he has conflicted feelings about this

Deku meets the Obi-Wanned All Might in the Avatar State, and unlocks the rest of his powers, preparing for the final showdown

there is a final showdown. it’s fucking epic. in the end Tomura delivers the killing blow to AFO in a move that surprises him as much as anyone

that’s the cliff notes version, more or less. pretty straightforward, but I think the purpose of a story shouldn’t be to surprise and shock so much as it should be to move and excite and thrill the audience, and reward them for their investment in the story and the characters. and this is a classic hero’s journey outline, and it’s a classic for a reason.

anyway, to bring this all back around on track and conclude things, the story could probably work both ways -- with either Tomura as the final villain, or AFO. but based on the pieces we have so far, I think AFO being the final villain is the more logical and satisfying story. and I just really like the thought of him being done in by all these pawns he overlooked and underestimated. Deku, who barely seems to be an afterthought in his planning thus far; and Tomura, whom he’s manipulated to be this devastating agent of chaos and destruction, but whom he arrogantly continues to think of as being his. if he dies in prison, and Tomura does become the final villain, and is only redeemed at the end of the story, when he either dies or goes into exile or whatever -- that’s not satisfying. it disregards all of the worldbuilding being done to explore the mythology of OFA and AFO. it leaves us frustrated as we’re forced to side against a villain we now empathize with. it’s too fucking dark. so for now I’ll continue to root for AFO being the final villain. because it’s something I want, just as much as it is something I think things are leaning toward.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #all for one #shigaraki tomura #midoriya izuku #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha #bnha meta #asks #thequietmanno1