#chapter oneeeeee

[autixel]

Chapter 1. The room.

THE FOLLOWING HAS BEEN TRANSLATED INTO [insert language] FOR YOUR READING EASE.

My eyes open. Existence feels foggy. What the hell happened. I let my gaze slowly drift across the room. Plain walls, utilitarian furniture, life support nearby. I'm in the medical building. I try to pull myself up but a robot comes up and gently but firmly pushes me back down. The black screen that was a face stared at me. Two circles represented eyes.

"Good morning, Mordi," they said in a friendly tone, "You certainly like to get back to business, don't you?" I hadn't programmed these guys to joke, where'd this come from. "Yeah, sure," I trailed off as the robot, a D.04 helped me sit up. "Your brother has been notified, and will see you shortly," I felt my face drop, "bleeding witches, why would you do that?" I nearly yelled at the pile of metal, I had no time for this faulty machine. I made a mental note to fix their code. Scanning the room there wasn't much option to hide, except for the cabinets near the door. I turned to the robot, "Put me in there, now, and don't tell him that I'm here," and they did. It was slower than I would have liked. It was quiet, and cramped, but I didn't want to interact with my brother even if I had a gun pointed at me. Therapists might say that it's because of trauma that I'm acting like this but it's also because he's an asshole. Footsteps in the halls. The hair on the back of my neck stood straight up. And I shut my left eye, damn the glowing.

My breathing stopped as he stopped at the door. With a clack the door opened. "Where's Mordi?" he asked. "She wanted to get right back to her bots, you know how she is," they replied. Well, Botty, I guess being broken helps. Quite unfortunate that I have no idea how well they're lying. He was silent. The air felt heavy and I couldn't relax. I barely kept my body from shaking. His shoes scuffed the ground in what I guessed to be in a turning motion, towards me. I pressed into the back of the cabinet, pulling myself tight into a ball. The doors opened. I stared into his eyes. The light glinted off of them just so that his grey irises were highlighted.

"Mordi," he said with a relatively mortifying smile, "there you are, why aren't you in bed?" My eyes were wide open now, and the soft green glow cast on his face didn't do him any favours. I stayed silent as he pulled me out of the cabinet. "Why were you in that dusty box, who knows when that was last used," he dusted off my shoulders and hair, "How long were you even in there? There is so much dust on you," he continued fretting over my appearance. I sighed, "not long," He wasn't mad, I could tell from his expression, just disappointed. I looked down, but decided to use this opportunity to ask, "How did I get in here? What happened?" My brother was turning to leave as I spoke and suddenly stopped in his tracks,

"Not here."

"But-"

"No."

As I said, asshole. He put an arm out, intending for me to take it for balance. Disoriented as I was, I ignored the hand. "Fine, have it your way, let's go. It's nearly dinnertime," my stomach did not rumble, I swear. He gave a smug smile and I glared at him. My feet felt cold and I looked to find that I had no shoes or socks on, he followed my gaze, then looked up and told the bot,

"Get her some socks, the grippy ones if you can," and they did. The neon orange wasn't my style but I lived with it. I used my brother as a substitute wall as I put on my socks, being annoyingly slow on purpose. I looked up at his face at one point and one of his eyes was twitching.

"Can you hurry it up; you aren't the only one who is hungry," fearing what he might do I cut it out. We left the hospital dorm. The halls at base are large, and they have to be. We deal with massive amounts of people and robots at any given time, today was a slower day apparently. The hall was dim, most light coming from the windows to the courtyard, and most importantly, empty of life or moving robots. "Can you tell me now?" I asked. He looked around, I'm not sure why, before responding. "A couple months ago we had a heist that went sour. The building was more secure than we thought. The entire place went up in flames. Lueja got out mostly scot-free, except for the blow to the head, I got a couple new scars," he pointed to a long jagged scar on his left cheek, "you got the worst of it though, we think your defect is the reason why you're still alive," Fantastic. Outside there were my robots, my design, that we put out into the field for the quieter jobs. One of the top ones, Fox, noticed us. They had dull orange hair cut to the shoulders and fox attributes like dark forelimbs, ears and a tail. They were smaller in size, smaller than me. In perfect motion and time they ran to the window.

"Mordi! You're awake!" They said with enthusiasm. "We were really worried about you, how are you feeling?" I responded with an "I'm not dead?" Fox rolled her eyes, "Yes yes we know that now," they turned back to the yard and yelled, "Firebird! Look who's awake!"

Firebird had medium skin, they didn't have a particular animal inspiration, rather just a general idea. Grey wings, grey hair, and a leaner, but still muscular physique. Their facial structure was sleek and birdlike. They smiled at me and calmly walked over. "It's great to see you walking, Mordi. Alles has been all over the place while you were MIA," I looked up to my brother, who was never really into interacting with my robots if he could avoid it. Alles looked away, and turned from the window. He cleared his throat,

"Well, I've got a transfer to do, time is money-" Firebird butted in, "Better bring Mordi, it'd get her back on track." He grit his teeth, he hid it well but I knew. He said, "No worries, I bet Mordi could handle this on her own if she wanted." Yes, I could. I got lost in my thoughts until I heard Alles say, "You know, we really should get going." Fox's ears drooped slightly, to Firebird's amusement. I said, "See you later!" And I waved them goodbye, my brother just stood there waiting for me. I turned to glare at him, there wasn’t any heat though, "Can't you play nice?" More poorly hidden restraint, "I have been. They have been pushing my buttons, I wonder where they get it from." Ouches, that one stung, definitely. So I said that.

"Wow, brother, that really hurt my feelings."

He laughed at that, one crisp bark,

"Liar."

"Look who's talking, you're the businessman, I'm just the engineer."

"How about we just get the transfer done, your latest project has been going well. Do not forget that I designed the bots before you."

The arrogant prick. I'm better at the job than he ever was, and he's been messing with my research.

"How about you get out of my business. You've done your part, now get back to your own work."

"I'm trying to help you."

"I don't want your help."

"Fine. Just make the transfer today. The data won't last much longer."

"I don't care about what you want."

"I get that, so let me work."

"Your work is getting into my work."

"This project will advance our company and robotics as a whole on this planet, why not let me help you with that?"

"Because you will mess it all up."

Alles started counting on his fingers.

"I've been in charge of managing our clients, managing your robots, making new designs, manufacturing, employees, and investments for the past six months. You may be a prodigy, but I have firsthand experience and data. This technology will change society and our status in the field. Calm down, I'm just helping you along the way."

"I never asked you to do these things, just leave me and my things alone!"

He stared at me for a moment, and never left my eyes. He spoke in a serious tone.

"You are crossing lines. You were unconscious for months. What else was I supposed to do?"

"Just focus on your part! It's not like we're struggling for cash."

"If we don't show signs of progress, the wrong people will think there is something up with us."

I stared at him, the green cast getting brighter, and said very slowly, "Just go away, I'll do my job."

He straightened his posture, he was much taller than I was. Then he left.

I watched him go down the hall, his shoes were almost the only sound. The other sound was my own heartbeat racing in my ears. Right, back to business. Turn, turn, walk, turn, stairs, down, walk, down, turn. My muscles went through the motions of getting to my lab. What awaited me was a giant steel door, my safe space just behind a little bit of metal. The lock didn’t even register in my thoughts, except for the fact that I noticed that I didn’t think about it and then did think about it. Tables and cabinets and machines and all the fun stuff of my job on display as I walked in. At the center was my latest project. The vessel, anyway. It was to be called Eagle, and based on the crowned eagle. It would be the most difficult robot I have made, using new technology made only a decade ago but never caught on. Brain preservation. By preserving the brain it is possible to put the data and precise arrangement of the brain into a computer. It isn’t easy, and rather expensive. It has only ever been done with biological to robot transfers, and even then the success rate questions if the high cost is worth it. After years of trial, error, and refinement I believe that I will reach a breaking point. The next step was to put the data from the subject into the robot. That I did at my desk; the screen came back with a popup saying “loading”.

Faint whirring and metal hitting metal started. It was the sound of my assistant, Epsilon. He approached the desk and I didn't look up.

"Hello, Mordi, I have been waiting for your return."

Something tugged at the corners of my mouth.

"It's good to see you too."

"Project Eagle is ready for transfer."

I looked up to the giant tube. Inside was a body, an organic, carbon-based, real body. But also partly computer, I didn't lie about that. Epsilon started,

"It is marvelous that Eagle has survived our tests, if this is successful they will be the best of our ranks. On the discreet side of course."

I made a sound of agreement, no time for chit-chat.

•

Kada was in a fantastic mood, she had a great breakfast, and was in the library with her friends. On the table they had books on calculus and quantum mechanics. She was engaged in conversation when one of the guardians came up to her.

"Kada, I need to speak with you."

Kada stood, tidying up her area. One of her friends, Ione, stood up and out of the seat.

"What are you doing?"

The guardian looked down on Ione, serene face giving nothing away.

"That is none of your business."

Ione stared at the guardian.

"She's my best friend, of course it is my business."

At this point Kada was trying to calm Ione down, and only succeeded by, "Ione, I don't think that this is what you think it is. I'll be right back," she smiled.

Kada hadn’t been outside the doors before. Oh sure she has left the building and gone on adventures, but the peculiar wood door on the eastern wall has always been a mystery. The others had been told that what lied on the other side was some random place in the world, because some people came back with strange tales of foreign lands. Those who came back seemed a bit odder than when they left. Like the shock got to them. The guardians had said that they had the opportunity to see their family again and chose to come back. In some sense that was true. They always looked unsettled though, like their family wasn’t the kindest. It was a guess that those who didn’t come back either couldn’t get back or they were able to leave and have a happy life. Some believed the former, some the latter. The guardian opened the door, and it opened to metal doors which opened a metal box. Kada looked up to the guardian. They had on a white cloak that faded to red, at further study the pattern was irregular and organic. Any limbs that weren’t immediately shrouded by the cloak were covered in black, down to the fingertips. A bit of their face was visible, pearly white and a bit translucent. Robots aren’t a rare occurrence, but a robot guardian was. The guardian’s head turned to stare down at the girl. She shivered, and hurried inside and stood in a corner. Clean moves brought the machine to a panel of buttons, and they pressed one of the buttons. The button lit up, and the box shifted. I know it’s an elevator, you know it’s an elevator, but Kada has no idea. The floor seemed to fall a tad under her feet. Then faint vwooming noises, to put it best onomatopoeia-wise, sounded.

The robot didn't seem friendly but Kada had to try, "Uh, where are we going?" They raised their head, and an odd, sunny disposition appeared on their inhuman features, "We are going to one of the transfer areas," as they talked they made friendly hand gestures and stood in a light conversational way. For the situation it was nothing less than off-putting, "So that way you can meet your family!"

Then the face went back to stone-cold, and the body followed suit. They stood in silence for some time.

—

Kada broke the silence.

"What's your name?"

The robot didn't move, but gave a soft response.

"I am an A.56."

"That doesn't answer my question."

She stared at the machine. They started to squirm, then school themself, then squirm over and over. Something fizzed and they said,

"I wasn't given a name. I'm not one of the special ones, like you, like you will be."

"What?"

"You kids have so much that we cannot have."

"Back to 'like you will be', please."

The robot started to reach higher pitches and higher displays of emotion. A broken guardian, one that looks like it has walked in blood. This could be dangerous.

"Mordi has big plans, and I'm angry that I am not more crucial, more important."

The voice box was crackling and a buzz came underneath the words.

"I'm sure that you will be recognized soon but what are Mordi's plans?"

"I don't know."

Calm.

The box dinged and the doors opened. Kada rushed out. Behind her the robot's eyes went from a pallid grey to crimson red. The A.56 said in an unnerving voice, "That won't be an option." Kada was in great shape, having spent the majority of her free time exercising and jumping around the grounds. Running in the halls wasn't an issue, finding the way out, also wasn't. In her thoughts she praised Blue for exit signs. Kada managed to make a distraction for the A.56 by crashing a bookshelf. In a second the chase was back on. The whirring and fast pace of her tail made thoughts focusing on things other than survival understandably difficult.

A fire exit door at the end of the hall. Conveniently there were numerous stands and people in the way to slow A.56 down. Kada caused as much of a ruckus as she could before opening and slamming the fire door. She noticed a few options, one was to climb that broken ladder just a few feet off the ground, the other was to continue running into dense woodland.

—

Kada gained wind and jumped up onto the ladder. The old metal creaked under her weight. She raced up the rungs in panic. What she came to was the roof of the building, and just in the nick of time. The door below opened. The very air held still, the afternoon summer sun beat onto Kada's body. The robot walked out into the forest. She carefully watched as they went through the brush. Then she slowly walked away from the edge and rose to her feet. Up on high there weren’t many options. Waiting wasn’t viable, neither was going back, so she took the time to survey the land from where she was. The building was part of a complex that spanned out into the west, as she turned she found lush green forest all around. One interesting part of the campus were cat-walks that connected the buildings from above. To the north of the buildings was a town. From where she was standing there was a building on the edge of the foliage that may just help. Kada ran across the bridge, someone below shouted. She lingered for a second on top of the new building, searching for a way down. She found one on the north side, parkour-able platforms. At one of the lower levels she jumped into the thick canopy, hiding in shadows. There she stayed, watching the ground and the buildings. She sat there until dark, where more robots came in search. Leaping from tree to tree she came to the edge of the forest, and dropped to the ground. She kept low, and quiet as she walked into the tall grass.

Fear had a strong grip on the girl, for it conducted most of her movement. Though the more she drifted into the wind, and the faster her heart went, the more excitement filled her. The moons were high above in the starry sky. She stood in the darkness, the breeze gentle on her face. She continued walking, and let herself enjoy the night air.

—

A gunshot. Inexplicable pain. And Kada fell to the ground.

—

In front of me was the data from one Kada Escova, on the record she was a smart girl, enjoyed parkouring and playing with her friends, a great leader, it is times like this where I am saddened that the process of transferring is a fatal one. I’m not much older than her, would we have been friends? I need to focus, I can’t lose track.

This process is a bit more delicate than what I usually do. Normally I have a robotic vessel and I upload one of my AIs to it. Now I’m playing for real. I’m worried that if I mess this up, Alles will give me hell. I don’t want to be locked in the lab again. I can’t afford to. I stare at the box. A little box that decides my fate. Epsilon came into the room. I turned to him and ordered.

"Launch the transfer."

They blinked once, in acknowledgement, and waited for me to get up from the chair. As Epsilon was a computer, and one of my most advanced, they didn’t need to sit down. They had a cradle nearby that they used to get into the system. I stood in front of the cylinder. It was fascinating to watch as the data embedded itself into the project. The contours of Eagle's face and body was a clear display of mastery. The face contorted into faces that I knew all too well, pain.

"Epsilon? Subject is in pain."

"Well aware of it."

There was an odd catharsis about it, a connection that was unlike my other creations.

"Connection securely made, data moving."

A moment of silence.

"By the way, your sister summons you to her office."

"How immediate?"

"A.S.A.P."

"Fine."

I did my best to walk out, trying to trust that Epsilon wouldn’t screw the whole bloody thing. While my sister would be waiting, it isn’t like she isn’t patient. I know her better than that. She frequently plays chess with clients, targets, and assets. As the eldest she is responsible for our more secretive jobs. Organized crime, and all that jazz. I don’t know, it’s not my department. I walk through the halls, due to the accursed left eye, most organic entities looked at me with fear and changed their path. Robots either minded their business or waved; and Alles wonders why I wonder why I don't have any biological friends. Finally I came across our recreation building. Alles had this place built for our biological employees, as they need frequent feeding. I, too, apply to this way of life. We have a giant eating place, and areas designated to service the variety of races. I grab some dinner and sit down at an empty table for reasons described earlier. Add this as another act of rebellion, I'm not even supposed to be eating with other people. Publicity reasons, I think, most customers find people like me dangerous and creepy. It’s currently late afternoon, so the commons are sparse at best. The food is alright, nothing special. I’m in no big hurry, so I enjoy my meal as best as I can. Once I’m finished I put the tray back and throw my used things away. More walking, honestly why am I allowed to walk freely in this place, didn’t I basically just wake up from a months long coma? I don’t mind though, not immediately having someone on my back is nice. I’m outside my usual department, so less people wave at me. The halls get less and less populated the farther I go, and I know some parts are designed specifically to deter people from the area, but man does it work.

The drywall that is common for the rest of the complex transitions to something more like concrete brick. I don't think I go here often. A tall robot, dark in complexion and dark in details, is walking ahead of me and drawing closer. That one's name is Wolf and is one of our stealth ops, in rank he's top three. He was out of uniform, instead wearing a loose fit (verging on baggy) blouse, and black pants with elegant red flower embroidery on the right leg. His hair was in finger waves. That was truly unusual. Wolf stopped a conversational distance away from me, bending down slightly.

"Mordi, oh it is good to see you awake."

"It's good to see you walking."

One more thing, last I remember of him, he was extremely damaged from a job and couldn't walk. Something didn't add up.

"Yes, feeling good as new, perhaps even better."

I stared at him as he spoke.

"I'm rather surprised that Alles-"

Of course it was him. My brother told me himself that he picked up where I left off.

"-was the one to patch me up. He did a fantastic job, I see that it runs in the family."

What is with my bots being cheeky with me today?

"Please direct me to my sister's office."

Wolf straightened up. When he looms he really looms. Conversation died at that point. Turns, turns, stairs, elevators, walking, and walking. At one point I had to swallow my pride and ask.

"Can you please help me some of the way there? I've been walking all day."

"Ah, yes, you did just wake up a few hours ago, didn't you?"

The ache sunk into my bones. I leaned on him and after more turns he quickly got me to the door. I got back on my own feet then Wolf opened the door.

Lueja sat in her chair, elbows on the desk and hands steepled to rest just below her nose. Her glare reminded me of cold hard steel, similar colour too.

"You've kept me waiting."

I am screwed. How was it possible to put so much disappointment and thinly veiled fury into four words? Some may say technically five words but four syllables anyway.

"Uh, hi, Lueja?"

She said nothing.

"Why did you call me here?"

Wolf stood by her side, and lines were made that connected dots to think about later. She never left my eyes.

"Your recent unavailability has been causing-"

She paused to cock her head barely to the right.

"-inconveniences."

"I was comatose for months. What do you want from me?"

"That doesn't change the fact that we had to pick up after you. Mother was a fool to put you in charge of an entire department, along with your other duties."

My jaw dropped a little. This wasn't the Lueja I knew, she'd always been enigmatic and distant, but not directly insulting. Maybe I was drawing a lead too fast but something happened while I was out. I think it has to deal with that night.

"What happened at the failed heist?"

Her mask cracked a little. Her brows furrowed and she looked off to the left. I could feel her mind gears turning. She looked back at me.

"I don't know."

Fantastic.

"What do you remember?"

"I remember planning with you, I remember finding where the item was, I remember that it was a pair of glasses, I remember that one of us pulled the alarm, I remember running out of the building. It's blurry after that."

I picked at my own memory. The dark empty halls. Avoiding the cameras. Being warned about going too far ahead of the group. The alarm. The fire. The feeling of being cooked alive. The effort to not scream from the agony. The fire just barely tracing over my skin and burning what it touched. There was something weird, the colour changed as I drifted off.

"Mordi?"

Lueja looked concerned, she was leaning over her desk and grabbing my shoulder.

"Are you alright?"

"Uh, I guess?"

She leaned back in her chair, restored to her typical Lueja glory.

"Good. You'll be needed tomorrow. The world stops for no one."

"Who do I need to talk to to find out what happened those months ago?"

"That'll be Alles, he was there and as far as I know, the only scars he has are mental."

I had to bite back a grimace.

"Well,"

Biting back failed.

"Do you have anything else for me?"

"Not now, I think you should head to your quarters, you'll need the rest. A detail has been arranged for you that will attend to your needs. One should be arriving shortly to escort you."

I was surprised that it was so short. But why in the world do I need to talk to the one person that I specifically don't want to. It truly is fortunate that I can postpone my problems to tomorrow. As I left I noticed Wolf handing Lueja a cane. I waited in the hall, may as well. Lueja and Wolf came out, she appeared to be off balance. That's what the cane was for I suppose. The halls got busier with people and robots going to their resting places. I was approached by an A.30.

"I am here to-"

"Escort me to my room?"

"Yes."

"Alright let's go. Carry me."

It lifted me into its arms, awkward bridal style. You didn't need to know that I don't know why I said it.

I started dozing in its arms, and when I woke it was laying me onto my bed. It left the room shortly after checking my healed injuries.

#the moth burns #OOOOOH CHAPTER ONEEEEEE YIPPEEEEEE #i need to change some descriptions since I've made changes to the character design (the robots) #but still #very pleased with it overall #autixel's writings

[ghost-bard]

WITCH AND THE BEAST EPISODE ONEEEEEE

ok so just generally speaking, I think it's a good first episode! It sucks that because the manga is really illustration based that that doesn't super come through in the animation, at least as of ep 1, but I HAVE LIKE SEMI HIGH HOPES

to me this just means that maybe more people will get into the manga, which would be great!

I think the characterization of Ashaf and Guideau is p spot on so far, and the art style as a generalization is done decent enough, as well as it being almost 1:1 for the first chapter.

ALSO i really like the music they're using for it so far, def adds to the atmosphere, which as a manga reader i don't think they were able to capture the atmosphere that the manga has in full.

Either way, im very excited for whats to come, and if it ends up being hot garbage, people can read the manga, which is not hot garbage LMAO

#the witch and the beast #majo to yajuu #the witch and the beast guideau #the witch and the beast ashaf #majo to yajuu guideau #majo to yajuu ashaf #guideau #ashaf #the witch and the beast anime #majo to yajuu anime #animanga #anime #manga #mty #kousuke satake #ghost talks #also hoping that this brings in more fan content lmao #im a selfish little guy what can i say #maybe even... mty merch....

[flowerslut]

you are a menace. an absolute menace. after that chapter i went and reread north star as a little treat

no like deadass use the fanfiction.net app every night to help me sleep because there's a feature that READS to you (in those crappy robot voices but theyre not all terrible) and for the past two weeks ive been letting it read north star to me little by little as I fall asleep bc its my emotional support fic and I think its my best oneeeeee

#ive been thinkin about that universe recently #which is dangerous but also sooo fun ♡ #roots

[caffeine-clouds]

Agent Blue Chapter 5 "Droplets" releasing tomorrow!! And I'm looking forward to this oneeeeee

#agent blue fic #sonadow #sonic fanfiction

[ltcolonelcarter]

Fanfic Writer asks:

1) Who is your favorite character to write for and is this the character you find easiest to write for?

7) How do you edit your fics? What do you look for in your edits?

14) What is something you wrote in a fic that you are hoping readers picked up on but you don't know if they did? And/or, what is something that you were excited that readers did pick up on?

16) Do you have a method for getting characters to sound/feel in character?

20) What is your favorite thing about writing fanfic? What about writing in general?

Sending 💋💋💋

send me a fanfic ask

come here IMMEDIATELY and let me love you

I've answered 1 & 7 over hereeeee. technically done 14 already but i have a bonus just because it's you

but also for 7. the true answer is "with spite and impatience", because i truly TRULY hate some parts of editing. i usually have to take a LOT of breaks and go over it in a new context/with fresh eyes.

16. UGH does banging my head against my word processor until the Vibe is right count? that's what it feels like, sometimes.

depends on the character, to be honest. sometimes it's about identifying helpful word choices/patterns of speech that will indicate/remind you of the character without much effort (see hank: "fuckin' androids"; you probably read that in his voice), or about signposting typical behaviours that allow you to "see" them very easily (see: sixty and smirking; the action is tangible). for others it's about feeling who they are as a person. working with OCs is very different to canonical characters, naturally. quite often I'll try and use a scene/"in" point that's similar to a canon one so give me a guide for speech/behaviour, and build naturally from there. like slipping into an accent, I guess. hard to describe. after the initial writing, it's editing word choice to death until i can HEAR and SEE them properly. and a lot of yelling in betweeeeeeen

20. LITERALLY EVERYTHING ASHFJHKAJSHJA oh my GOD. i lvoe the technical challenge. I love SEEING a world or a scene or a person or a place so vividly and having to find the right words to communicate it to someone else. I love that moment when someone reads something you wrote and tells you EXACTLY what you meant to convey but in their own words, as if you transplanted the idea from your mind right into theirs.

I love figuring out new characters, who they are, and how I want them to grow. I love putting them in Situations and watching them try and fail and succeed to feel and manage their emotions. I love making them REACT to each other. I love taking the smallest part of an idea and building it into something bigger. i fucking love hiding details and small ideas inside a larger fic, whether others find them or not. I love that moment in planning when the small details line up with the big ones, where the theme unintentionally (or otherwise) parallels itself. I love analysing my own planning and writing to DEATH so I can fit as much as possible into it.

i love the escapism. I love feeling everything vicariously. i just really, really fucking love writing, okay.

bonus:

14. I've technically done this one, but I try and hide multiple bits and pieces in fics, so I have another oneeeeee, this one's in a question of time again, but it's less to do with the fic itself and it's what I did with the chapter titles (hidden under the cut for 😏 length):

so I started with just like... a small set of physics jokes, to sort of play into the "accident of physics" time loop thing. it works nicely! it matches my vibeeee and I love it. a quick breakdown of the physics, without much science bc who has the time, really:

path divergence comes from path difference, which describes the distance 2 waves travel to get to the same point. thematically relevant for connor and sixty, whose paths are very different but related. will have relevance for the finale.

parallax is a type of error that crops up because of an observer's line of sight. put your thumb up in front of you face, an arm's length away. close one eye. now swap eyes. see how your thumb looks like it's shifted sideways? that's parallax. something something same thing from different perspectives and it's relevance to connor and sixty

supersymmetry is just me poking fun at physics and physicists. do you believe in a symmetrical universe? SHOULD we have matching sets of particles? I sure as shit don't know. the relevance of this is that in supersymmetry, every particle we know about would have an analogue. they always come in pairs.

interferometry is a method of measuring Stuff based on the interference pattern of two waves. again, sixty and connor as interfering with each other, and the wave pattern giving us something to think about. also just bc, depending on perspective... connor and sixty are literally just interfering in one another's business.

here's where we get interesting.

I wanted a slow slide in theme from physics (time loop! interesting cosmic accident!) to technology. interferometry marks the tipping point bc it's a measurement technique - based in science, sure, but it's tech. onwards:

logic error - there is a fault in the structure of the program. it probably won't crash, but it also won't work correctly. eheheheh. this is where we start getting FUN.

fragmentation - an experimental chapter, for sure, but I knew from the get-go I wanted something achronological for Funsies and also for the technical challenge, bc I'm an idiot. I wrote the chapter in fragments, so the name (and reference to data, especially memory data, being fragmented and saved/accessed in random order) seemed to fall out naturally.

random access memory is volatile, temporary, and easily lost, and doesn't that just feel appropriate for sixty, at this, his tipping point? i'm hoping there's a dimension added to this with [redacted] in ch 8; we'll see. regardless, I wanted that strong vibe of if you die, you lose this, for sixty in this chapter. he's in a race against being reset.

and no, I'm not telling you the title for chapter 8, except to say: it follows the theme, it references the time loop specifically, and I've had it planned since I wrote and published chapter 2. I'm laughing evilly.

#ask meme #cerberusdreams #KISSING YOUR ENTIRE FACE #these ones sent me a little manic actually. #need a minute after talking about loving writing #I LOVE IT SO MUCH #asks #fic stuff

[aenbyveryverygayperson]

ANOTHER ONEEEEEE

#one piece #one piece au #gecko luffy au

[jerirose]

Not Channie having a dream about my Han fanfic LOL (I joke) - which by the way - I'm writing Chapter 5 for atm (it's been on hold because of my shitty MH 🙃 which is funny and ironic because it's about my shitty MH basfvasfhvasfba) Also if you are wondering what Fic I'm talking about it's this oneeeeee

Finding Our Way Home

#👽 stop speaking nonsense

[azumasoroshi]

minidura chapter 10 react

awww

man you ever forget that simon has a body count of like 3258725 because i sure do

and i have suddenly remembered

damn thats crazy cuz all my friends go nuts for sushi (and they're all asian)

lmfao 💀

would you eat a pirozhki sushi. i might (i dont like sushi)

damn i was about to say whoa maybe i actually would try it but nope

i do wanna try pirozhki though yuri on ice has done things to me

it's kinda weird that they chose something so mundane for the last chapter of minidura pfff i thought they'd have some mock 'goodbye everyone' type chapter but maybe they werent expecting for it to end so soon

or maybe it's a homage to the everyday extraordinary extra ordinary durarara plot

probably not

dennis goes through so much shit man

that sounds like the worst idea ever actually

💀man

PFFT

rest of the chapter they find something cheap to serve for students lmao

good chapter but why is this the last oneeeeee rip

edit: i have discovered that there are 3 more volumes but i cant find translations of them anywhere online hhhhhHHH

#mikado ryuugamine #masaomi kida #anri sonohara #simon brezhnev #durarara

[harrysonlylover]

OMG I LOVE THE NEW CHAPTER!!!!!! Can’t wait for the next oneeeeee 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

Thank you love!! I can’t wait for the next one too😏

#ask #anon ask

[ryesillustrates]

Rules: Tag 10* People You Want To Get To Know

(*I’m a dirty cheater and will probably tag less than 10 people :p)

I was tagged by the lovely @marghen ! Thank you so much!!!

Favorite time of the year? I am what I like to call Basic™️. Autumn is my favorite!

Comfort food? Not gonna lie, my mom’s homemade banana bread has been my weakness.

Do you collect something? Kneaded erasers bc I keep losing mine I actually do! I collect books. Lots of books… too many books.

Favorite drink? I’ll never say no to an almond milk latte with vanilla and hazelnut or lemonade.

Favorite song/artist? Hnnngh I can’t choose only oneeeeee. Poor Man’s Poison, Tamino, Sleeping at Last, Tim Be Told, Steam Powered Giraffe, and Lindsey Stirling- just to name a few.

Current favorite songs? Ngl Ben Barnes’ “11:11” is currently playing on repeat in my head. And Tamino’s “Habibi” always makes me cry in the best way possible, haha

Favorite fics? There was this 50 chapter fic about the Pevensie siblings ending up in Middle Earth instead of Narnia and tbh it was one of my favorites. There was also this one about a time traveling tea shop..? It sounds weird, but it was SO good and I can’t find it anywhere.

Tagging: No pressure to do this! It’s totally optional :3

@pellucid-constellations @emperor-palpaminty @madivandoren @bastart13 @villtura @crepuscol

#art #Game Thing

[zoropookie]

umm i’m literally y/n so it’s basically canon that they want to suck Scara’s dick so bad their friends are correct (god please one tiny spark between them in the next chapter ONE TINY ONEEEEEE)

you owe me one /j

#zoropookie

[mistocho]

this fic is killing me brother and im only on chapter ONEEEEEE

[h4rr3h]

Harry and Evan were as platonic as platonic could be. Living together does that. You see their unlivable quirks; like how they always leave the toilet seat up, or how they never rinse their dishes, or how they never fully close the chip bag so they end up stale. And after six years of living together, Harry and Evan knew each other’s quirks well. The pair were long gone from their college days and fully immersed in the confusing reality of adulthood. Navigating your twenties is hard, but with your best friend by your side, it makes the whole disarray just that much easier. But, Harry has a secret, one that he’s been hiding from his best friend since the day they met, and she’s about to find out. Especially now that Niall spilled about the “Ohio Incident”. A lesson on facing your fears, being too old for college parties, cronuts (are those even still a thing?) and finding things out just a bit too late.

ohio is for lovers, chapter one evan bosco and the greatest one night stand that never happened

Since they day they met, Harry Styles knew Evan Bosco would take him on the ride of his life.

Sunday, March 25, 2018

185 Bleecker Street, Apartment 11A, New York, NY

Since they day they met, Harry Styles knew Evan Bosco would take him on the ride of his life.

 “Get up! Get up!” She hollers, jumping on the edge of his bed.

 It’s eight o’clock on a Sunday morning. Harry is hoping for another hour of sleep, Evan is hoping for Harry’s homemade pancakes.

 “I want breakfast!” She grumbles, like a child.

 Harry knows he won’t say no. God, he could never say no to this girl, “make them yourself.” He groans, pushing his face into his pillow.

 Evan jumps closer, and Harry grabs her ankle and wiggles her around a bit. She stumbles but puts her palm against the ceiling to stable her balance. She’s wearing one of his jumpers with a pair of pajama shorts underneath. He pretends that he can’t see the eggplant shaped birthmark on her inner thigh. That’s not his territory.

 “Let gooooo - “

 Harry tugs on her leg, pulling her onto him. Evan laughs in protest but wraps her arms around him, hugging him close, throwing a leg over his lap, “Pancakes?” She jets her bottom lip out and he gives in.

 “Pancakes.”

Thursday, August 23, 2012 Washington Square Diner

150 West 4th Street, New York, NY

Harry Styles is not a fan of decaf coffee. But it’s three in the morning and he was about to round his thirtieth hour of no sleep and he reckoned if he had another drip of caffeine he would surely die of a heart attack at the age of eighteen. The chemical always heightened his senses. He was all too aware of the bored waitress sweeping behind the counter of empty display cases that in just a few hours time will hold bagels and pastries galore. Her rhythm is off key when she moves to the left, it’s a sweep, sweeeeep instead of a short quick sweep sweep.

 There are four other people in Washington Square Diner with him; an old man sitting on the furthest inside seat of counter, a punk looking couple, and a simple girl. The old geezer is leaned up so gingerly against the brick facade wall that Harry worries that the slightest gust of wind from an incoming customer might knock him over. He’s clearly asleep, or drunk, or dead. The couple are picking at the paper placemats laid in front of them despite a table full of hot, greasy food. And finally the girl, that damn girl.

 Sweep, Sweeeeep.

 Evan Bosco sits at the other end Washington Square Diner, earbuds in, but nothing playing. People leave you alone when they think you’re listening to music. She picks at her stack of pancakes, so soaked with syrup that they’re sticky and too sickly sweet for the common human. But that was how she liked them. Evan pretends not to notice the red eyed boy staring wide eyed at the scene around him.

 He must be a tourist, she thinks.

 She listens to the peaceful pattern of sweeps from the lonely waitress behind the counter. Another mouthful of pancakes washed down by her cup of black coffee and she’s counted twice now since the boy with bloodshot eyes has caught her sightline again. Old Man Figgins snorts in his sleep and Evan attempts to hide her bemusement. Mitch and Hannah in the front and center booth are high on Molly or X or whatever fad drug they were doing this week. Evan catches Harry’s eye again. Only she doesn’t know him as Harry, at least not yet. For now, he was the zombie boy who caught her gaze in between staring into his untouched mug of coffee and looking around him like he was hiding from something.

 Harry’s shoulders ache. He supposes it’s his bad posture, or at least that what his mother would tell him. He shifts his weight in the booth, the squeak of the fake leather seat whining as he makes a feeble attempt to stretch his sore muscles.

 Sweep, Sweeeeep.

 The air smells sweet like maple syrup and powdered sugar. The scent almost makes him nauseous. He glares down at the room temperature cup of decaf coffee and lets out a little sob to himself. Harry winces before the taste even hits his lips.

 Fucking decaf, he complains to himself.

 He can’t tell if the girl with honey hair sitting on the other side of the Diner is looking at him on purpose or not. Her hair is pulled back in a low bun, strands still falling in her face. She hides almond eyes behind a pair of oversized wire rimmed glasses that look like they belong to the elderly man asleep (or dead) at the counter instead of a young woman. There’s a crinkle in her forehead when he catches her looking again.

 It’s then that he notices the sweeping has stopped.

 Evan rises from her seat, but not without shoving another bite of pancake into her mouth. She licks her sticky lips and crosses the Diner in thirteen strides to the back corner booth where the boy is sitting. He looks even worse for wear up close. His greenish (although they look dull under the pale Diner lighting) eyes are bloodshot to hell and, along with red rimmed eyes, he has bags so dark Evan wondered for a moment if he’d been recently socked in the face. She notices he’d put far too much creamer in his coffee, it sits so beige and stagnant in the white mug with roadmap-like hairpin cracks along the edge of its mouth.

 Something like this wasn’t rash for Evan Bosco. She was used to flighty strangers in the night, whether she was at the park or the Diner, or the Subway station. New York really was the city that never slept, in the sense that the people who inhabited it were walking talking zombies who drank expensive coffee and ate fad pastries instead of brains, just shuffling and grunting onto their next stop. It was these strange hours of the night a few times a month that Evan stepped away from the hustle and bustle of simply existing in such an exhausting city and took some time to pause.

 She met some interesting people along the way, like Hannah and Mitch who would sometimes pay for her pancakes if they were feeling up to it and offered her drugs she’d never take. Or Old Man Figgins, who smelled faintly of cat pee thanks to the dozen or so cats he had collected in his studio apartment around the corner on MacDougal Street.

 Why was she coming towards him? Harry thinks, She’s probably coming to tell me to fuck off.

 But she doesn’t, and Evan slides gracefully into his booth and it takes him a moment to resonate that the girl he’d been staring at for the better part of forty-five minutes is staring back him from across the table.

 And she smells like maple syrup.

 Neither of them speak when she sits, Harry looks into his mug like he’s waiting for it to tell him its greatest secrets.

 “I’ve never seen someone look so somberly at a mug of coffee.” Evan states.

 Harry blinks once, “it’s decaf.”

 That explains it, she thinks. Also, nice accent.

 “Why’re you drinking that?” She questions.

 He shrugs, What an odd question.

 Odd question for an odd girl.

 He rips open a sugar packet and dumps it in, hoping it will mask the flavor (it won’t), “too much caffeine. Been up too long. Need to sleep sometime I suppose.”

 Evan nods her head, “so why do you keep staring at me? Do I have something in my teeth?”

 She curls her lips up and bares a white smile to Harry. He tries his best not to smile too much back at her. He pulls his coffee mug to his mouth to try and hide it.

 “Just wonderin’ what you were doing here,” he mutters, lips pressed to the edge of the porcelain mug.

 Evan rips tiny tears into the edges of the paper placemat, “could ask you the same thing.”

 “This is the city that never sleeps, am I right?”

 She rolls her eyes, what a cliche tourist thing to say.

 “I guess,” she huffs, “this is really the only place around here that’s open twenty-four hours. I come here when I need to think.”

 Harry rolls his eyes, what a cliche teenage girl thing to say.

 “And what do you think about?” He quizzes.

 By now Evan has made it three quarters of the way around her placemat and she’s mentally scanning the rest of the table for things to occupy her fingertips; the napkins, sugar packets, a dollar store miniature coloring book with three waxy crayons in red, yellow and blue.

 She shrugs, how terribly invasive, she thinks to herself. Although it’s exciting. She’s spent most of her time in and out of this city. Between dad’s work and travels she’s seen the inside of airport terminals so often she thought she ought to have a punch card for the JFK airport. There’s something fuzzy growing in her stomach and it makes her want to throw up, but in the most exhilarating way possible. She can be anyone tonight. Anyone to this person. She’s not her father’s daughter who shares the same bright eyes and sense of adventure and terrible nail biting habit. And she’s definitely not the girl that Jacob Huckabee just dumped twelve hours ago in a Starbucks on Bleecker Street.

 “I think about the color blue, and the way that the sky looks right before the sun rises,” Evan plucks out a crayon from the little cardboard box and flips her edge torn paper placemat to the blank white side, “I think about this city and how, despite us being constantly surrounded by other people that we never actually touch them,” she draws a cluster of stick figures inside of a box below a deep blue crayon sky, “sure, we may bump into them on the sidewalk or the subway but we don’t interact with more than a mumble of a sorry or barely even that. All these damn people and then they bump into other people and it just keeps going on and on-,” Evan drags the circle around the box a few times, “for seemingly forever. One-point-six million people just bumping into each other, day in and day out.”

 Harry raises an eyebrow. He pulls the red crayon from the box and turns the paper around to him, scribbling hair and smiley faces  on two of the stick figures standing side by side before presenting it back to her, “and then there’s us.”

 “You never answered my question,” Evan replies, “about what you’re doing here. I’ve never seen you here before tonight.”

 Harry doesn’t like questions, mostly because he never really has an answer. He was at the Washington Square Diner and three thirty in the morning because he was wired on caffeine, jet lagged, stressing about his upcoming first year at university, and well, hungry.

 “You’ve met all one point six million people in this city?” He raises an eyebrow. Evan folds her arms and he caves. “And I was hungry.”

 There’s a wrinkle of questioning between Evan’s eyes that causes her glasses to slip ever so slightly, “you don’t have any food.”

 Harry shrugs.

 Evan reaches for the last crayon, the yellow one, and draws a door that leads out of the stick figure clustered box and past the circle of repetition and to the blank part of the placemat.

 “Want to get out of here?” She asks.

 Harry isn’t sure what this girl is asking. Is she trying to sleep with me? He thinks. Not that it would be the worst way this night (morning?) could end.

 “Sure.”

 Evan smiles and damn near pulls him straight from the booth. Harry grabs the paper placemat with the torn edges and their drawing and folds it neatly, “in case we get lost we’ll always know where to find each other,” he says before tucking it into his back pocket.

 Old man Figgins wakes up when the front door of Washington Square Diner slams shut. It’s a fairly warm night. There’s no wind and the air is stagnant with summer’s leftovers. A slight lick of humidity fills the air; it’s stale, old, recycled. Just like this damn city. It’s a smell that Harry can’t place and one that Evan just calls “that city smell”. It’s mechanical, but still manages to smell like greasy chinese food after its sat out for too long, mixed with the slight wet dog smell of this evening’s rainstorm.

 Harry and Evan run down the sidewalk of West 4th Street towards Washington Square Park. Evan’s not much of a runner, especially with a stomach full of sticky pancakes and black coffee.

 Harry isn’t sure why they’re running. Is it a race? No, she’s not running fast enough for that. Is she running away from him? No, she’s smiling every time he looks at her to check her pace. She grabs his hand and drags him further, her hand is soft in his.

 Evan isn’t quite sure why she’s running. Overtired? Maybe, she should’ve been in bed hours ago. Craziness? Probably, she’s felt every emotion crammed into a half day and still lived to tell about it.

 They enter the park at the corner of Macdougal and Washington Square South.

 With heavy breaths, they fall to the ground in a fit of laughter, two strangers in the middle of the night. If this were a romantic comedy, Harry probably would’ve kissed her. But all he could notice in this moment was the way that the sidewalk lamp posts glowed in the reflection of her glasses and that her blue eyes looked so bright he thought he could’ve fallen in love right there on the spot.

 Harry didn’t really believe in love at first sight or even really love at all for that matter. It was a thing for saps and Hallmark cards. But, by God, he swore he saw the rest of his life with this girl flash in front of his eyes when she shut hers and placed her hand over his.

 “So what’s the plan?” He asks, when his breath finally catches up to him.

 Evan lets out a breathy laugh, “that’s one thing you’ll learn about me, I never have a plan.”

 Sunday, March 25, 2018

185 Bleecker Street, Apartment 11A, New York, NY

 It’s like a dance routine, the way that Harry and Evan work around their tiny apartment kitchen. They’ve mastered the art of passing by the other to get a utensil from the opposite end of the counter. Harry knows to dip slightly to the left when Evan reaches above his head for the mixing bowls; all her weight rested on her right foot, her left one extended backwards behind her. It’s choreographed teamwork.

 “Shit, we’re out of chocolate chips,” Evan groans as she digs through the cupboard.

 Harry’s got his Kiss the Cook apron on, mixing bowl full of raw pancake batter cradled in one arm and whisk in the other, “when did we run out?”

 “I made those cookies for Poll’s party a couple weeks ago.”

 “You didn’t write it in on the shopping list,” Harry tuts.

 Evan glares over the tops of her glasses, “shut up,” she say, kicking him swiftly on the ass.

 He does that cocky little smirk that causes the crease of his dimples to indent even more. Evan swears she’s detested  it since the day she met him, but that’s only because it causes one single butterfly in her lower stomach to flutter for just a fraction of a moment that happens so quickly, the first few times it happened she could’ve sworn she was imagining things.

 “So what’s on the agenda today?” Harry asks.

 Evan shrugs, shaking away the butterfly, “Huck had something he wants to do later. He was scarce on the details.”

 “Isn’t he always?” Harry quips.

 Evan hates when her best friend takes jabs at her boyfriend. Sure, Harry and Huck get along as well as they probably ever could, but there’s those backhanded compliments and little quips between comments that they fire at one another that makes her think one of them is bound to get sucker punched one of these days.

 It’s the second time in the course of sixty seconds that Evan tells Harry to shut up, but this time it’s with a little more fervor and he takes the hint. At least for now.

 “Maybe it’s a surprise,” Harry wiggles his fingers dramatically.

 “Eh,” Evan starts, “he’s not really one for surprises,” she acts nonchalant but her head swirls with ideas.

 They spin together to swap sides of the kitchen, pressed chest to chest for the briefest moment. Evan chuckles to herself at the sight of Harry’s tattoo-laden bare chest under his apron. A sizzling sound sparks in the air when Harry pours the batter into the hot pan, tiny bubbles forming up. Two steps to the left and Evan is pulling out more milk for their coffee that’s been steeping in the French press. They cheers with their matching monogrammed mugs that Harry still insists drinking out of even though his has a chip on the lip.

 “I can’t wait for the day you cut your mouth open on that mug so I can dance around the apartment screaming ‘told ya so!’”

 Harry winks and takes a sip from the side with the chip and the mug rubs against slightly rough spot on the inside of his upper lip where it’s cut him over and over in the past but this time there’s no metallic taste of blood mixed with his coffee.

 Outside the front door of apartment 11A, Jake Huckabee can smell the sweet scent of pancakes outside of his girlfriend’s apartment. While he much preferred waffles, after pulling an all nighter studying for Monday’s exam, pancakes would just have to do right now. He knocks four times in rapid succession and can hear the gentle pat pat of Evan’s feet against the hardwood floors.

 “Baby, you look so tired,” Evan groans to her boyfriend, holding her hands on either side of his face.

 She slides them down to his shoulders, giving them a single squeeze before wrapping her arms around his neck. Jake presses his forehead into her collarbone and peppers kisses along her neck. Evan giggles and pulls him into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind him.

 Harry tries not to stare at their spectacle and finishes up the first round of pancakes, “have a fresh batch ready to go!” Harry says a little too loudly, his voice cracking a bit at the end.

 Evan laces her fingers with Huck and pulls him to the kitchen. The dance is disturbed now by Huck standing like an awkward fucking giant in the middle of the kitchen. Evan bumps into him with a hot pan of cooked bacon and he winces and rubs the rapidly forming burn on his arm, Harry steps on his big toe while backing up to get the syrup from the cupboard.

 “Hey Huck, can you put this stuff on the table?” Harry asks, slightly annoyed, but mostly just to get him out of the fucking way.

 “Sure, man,” he replies, giving Evan a kiss on the forehead before putting the plate of fresh pancakes on the tiny dining table in what was supposed to be the other half of the living room.

 Living in a New York City apartment, especially when you’re barely able to cover rent and food, is like playing a real life game of tetris. The buildings are full of right angles and corners and straight lines, and the rooms take on multiple uses. The living room becomes a dining room on Sunday morning but a dance hall on Saturday nights. The weird corner in the kitchen that’s too small for a table but too big for a bar cart becomes a place for Harry and Evan’s ‘his and hers’ cats to perch and catch some morning rays. The bedrooms double as therapist offices and gymnasiums. And so on, and so forth.

 The threesome settles at the dining table and it’s a symphony of scraping forks and Huck’s cow chewing because of a deviated septum from a broken nose as a kid. They’ve had many a morning like this. Harry would be stupid to act like this didn’t happen every goddamn Sunday morning and now especially since Evan and Huck saw less of each other because of his spastic medical school schedule, time was precious.

 “So how goes Ye Olde Med School?” Harry asks, letting his fork scrape against his teeth for a second or two too long.

 Huck rubs his tired eyes. The classes are exhausting and seemingly never ending, the course load is enough to make anyone’s goddamn head explode, he sleeps an average of four hours a night, and he spends so much time in the library he can’t remember what day of the week it is most of the time.

 “It’s good,” he says simply.

 Thursday, August 23, 2012

Washington Square Park, New York, NY

 “So what are you thinking about now?” He asks.

 “Are you a therapist?” Evan questions in a dry tone.

 She opens her eyes and rolls her head over to face him, she can feel the soft tickle of the grass on her cheek. It’s quiet, and that’s saying something for the city. There’s the ever present sirens in the distance and honks and the other white noise static she’s become accustomed to. After all the places in the world that her father had taken her on his work trips, she detested the fact that he had to settle on New York City when it came time to take the promotion and settle down. Now he was the Editor-in-Chief of Travel Lately; one of those boujee travel magazines that showcased resorts and accommodations only the one-percent could afford. It was a modest upbringing when her father was just a measly travel writer carting his daughter around the world. But he was amazing at what he did and made good connections, and well, things changed. Now he spent 9-5 in an office building surrounded by glass walls and computer monitors the size of big screen televisions.

 “I’m interested in what you have to say,” Harry says, plainly. He’s turned his head over too and Evan can feel his breath feather across her face. He smells of coffee and mint.

 Is he trying to sleep with me? She thinks. Men are all the same.

 Evan rolls onto her side, propping her face up on her palm and surveys Harry. He’s laying on his back, hands folded on his stomach. His breathing is light and steady in perfect rhythm. His heart is racing, and she can hear. Even his heart beat is in sync with his breathing and she wondered how in the Hell anyone could be so in tune. Harry’s eyes are more green than she noticed in the diner; they looked more hazel under the fluorescents and she spots a pair of swallow tattoos just below his collar bone poking out from above his shirt. She reaches out to trace one.

 “I already told you what I think about, and what I was doing in the Diner. How about you answer some questions, buddy?” She finishes dragging her finger across his skin, his body emitting shivers under her touch.

 Harry takes a deep breath to try and recover himself, he wonders if she can hear how fast his heart is racing, “do you want the long or short version?”

 “Long,” she smiles, “we’ve got another couple hours until sunrise.”

 Evan listens intently while he speaks, “well, I got here this afternoon, from England, if you couldn’t tell.”

 She could.

 “I’m starting University on Tuesday and I’m scared shitless. I already hate this city. It’s so loud and lonely despite the fact you are never actually alone anywhere...ever,” he continues, “you have to wait twenty minutes for a seven dollar cup of coffee that takes less time to drink than it took for you to get it. It’s so goddamn loud. I don’t think I’ve heard a second of silence since I’ve gotten here. And there’s tourists, like, everywhere. It’s exhausting.”

 “Shit, I’d hate to see what you’ll be like after a month,” Evan quips.

 “Dead, hopefully.”

 There’s a playful smirk on his face and it makes Evan feel things she shouldn’t feel about a complete stranger, “Where are you going to school?”

 “NYU-”

 “Wait are you shitting me?” Evan sits up, clutching her chest.

 Harry is confused, “no?”

 “I’m going there too! That’s so cool! Small world, huh?” She jabs his ribs, “so what made you decide to cross the world to come to school?”

 He lets out a stream of breath, it comes out as a low whistle, “...my best friend talked me into it. Wanted something different, I suppose. If I stayed home I’d probably be working in my parent’s little pub. Sold me into the whole big city thing and here I am.”

 “So where’s he?” Evan asks.

 Harry shrugs, “probably at home.”

 “What’s his name?”

 “You ask a lot of questions,” Harry tuts.

 Evan rolls her eyes, “so says the guy who wants to know what I’m thinking because he’s sooo interested in what I have to say,” she proclaims with faux drama.

 “Fair enough,” Harry starts, “his name is Louis. We met really young. He’s a couple years older, already in school. His family lived next door to my parents growing up. Parents split and his dad stayed in England so he’d spend summers with him and the rest of the year here with his Mum. We just stayed in touch over the years.”

 “So you just dropped everything to move to the states and be with your best friend?”

 Harry thinks about it. That wasn’t really the full reason why. It was just his easiest way out of a drone life of working the pub and then it would eventually be passed on to him like it was his to his Mum and surely onto his children after he grew too old to care for it. It wouldn’t have been a bad life. It’d be comfortable, he’d marry the girl next door and she’d work in a shop up the block from the pub and they’d have a comfortable and familiar existence together and maybe pop out a few kids and go on a couple vacations. But Harry had known from a very young age that that was not what he wanted for himself. So the easiest way out was taking Lou’s advice and getting the fuck out of dodge.

 “I guess, in a way. It’s complicated back home but entirely not at the same time. I needed to get away from the constant sameness of the day to day. I needed something more for myself than what life back home could offer me and he offered to help me out and here I am.”

 Evan clutches her chest again and finds the whole thing so goddamn endearing she may burst. She wants to ask him about home and the best friend that she can thank for bringing him here and about a thousand other things but she doesn’t.

 “That’s so bromantic!”

 Harry rolls his eyes, “does that adequately answer your question?”

 She adjusts herself so that her head is resting on his chest. His heart is racing so fast Evan can feel it thump gently against her and Harry flushes and prays she doesn’t notice.

 She does.

 “For now.”

 She lets her fingers tiptoe on the grass around her. A silence has fallen between them (if you’re not counting Harry’s furiously beating heart) and Evan musters up the courage to ask what she’s about to, “so where are you staying tonight?”

 Harry fumbles with his answer, “uh just some like cruddy hotel until uh I move into the dorms. Louis’ mum’s apartment is cramped enough as it is without me there. W-why do you ask?”

 “Can I see it?”

 He chokes on air. Holy shit she really is trying to sleep with me. He blinks once, “uhm sure, I guess.”

 Sunday, March 25, 2018

185 Bleecker Street, Apartment 11A, New York, NY

 “Does this mean you’ve finally grown a pair of balls?” Niall asks, sipping his beer,  feet resting on the edge of the coffee table.

 Harry pushes his legs off his goddamn coffee table and leans back in his seat, taking a last sip of his drink before slamming the bottle on the table, “no, I’m just going to start being honest. I can’t stand seeing her with that human Valium.”

 “They’ve been together longer than you’ve known her, mate. I think you need to just keep your mouth shut and accept the fact that it’s never going to happen,” Louis chimes in, always the voice of reason.

 “If you tell her does that mean you’re going to stop bringing up your overdone sad sap trope every time she’s not around and you’ve had more than two drinks?” Niall pips casually.

 Louis tries his best not to chuckle, “yeah man, it’s kind of getting old. Either move on or tell her. And personally, I vote don’t tell her. Not after this long, and you live together…it’s just kind of sad and entirely too creepy.”

 “Thanks,” Harry seethes, finishing his beer and getting up for another.

 “Where is she anyways?” Niall asks.

 “Out with the Valium,” Harry sneers. He’s four beers in and feeling brave.

 “Bitter, table of one.” Niall mumbles into his beer.

 Louis rolls his eyes and mentally adds another tick to his count of how many times he has to smooth over something Niall says for Harry’s benefit. Just a normal side effect of having one friend with no filter and another who takes everything much too personally.

 “How’s Jordan?” Louis asks, changing the subject.

 Oh, right, my girlfriend. Harry thinks. Well, at least this week.

 “She’s good. We’re supposed to be going on a weekend trip up north to see her parents in a couple weeks. That should be interesting.”

 “You’ve met her parents like four dozen times, what’s so different this time?” Louis inquires.

 Mr. and Mrs. Charles Meyers of Troy, New York wanted nothing more than for their first born daughter to marry the man of her dreams. Harry was not this man. They were old fashioned, made Harry and Jordan sleep in separate bedrooms whenever they spent a night at their McMansion upstate. But a little after midnight Jordan would sneak into the guest room and snuggle up to Harry for a cuddle or a fuck or whatever they were feeling at that particular time. There’s just something about that boy, they always thought. He was smart, well put together, made good conversation, was respectful to their daughter, but Mr. and Mrs. Meyers knew that Harry Styles was not the man their daughter would marry.

 “It’s their like thirtieth wedding anniversary or some bullshit. So everyone is making a big deal about it and Jordan is asking too many questions about ‘the next step’.”

 “...you mean like normal couples do?” Louis fails to see the clear annoyance in Harry’s tone.

 He groans and puts his face in his hands, “she’s just - I don’t know how to describe it. She’s all over me all the time and then I’ll say something she doesn’t agree with and she’ll dump me for two weeks and then just show up at my door like she hasn’t been cursing my existence for the last fourteen days.”

 Niall pushes his glasses up his nose, “poor Harry, can’t get the girl he wants, can’t get rid of the one he doesn’t. Life is so cruel.”

 “Remind me again why we keep you around?” Harry snickers.

 Niall grins, “for the amazing commentary and real life wisdom.”

 “Yeah,” Harry snorts, “that’s it.”

 Thursday, August 23, 2012

St. Marks Hotel

2 St Marks Pl, New York, NY

 Harry wipes his sweaty palms against his jeans and paces the length of the tiny hotel room four times by the time Evan is done in the bathroom. He’d never had a one night stand before, unless you counted the time he lost his virginity to his first girlfriend who then promptly dumped him the next day. Harry liked to think there was no correlation, but he was just a lousy kisser and an even worse lay at age sixteen.

 He sits at the edge of the bed and it let out a squeaking groan in protest. Whoever was staying next door was surely in for a (loud) treat. He ponders briefly if he should play some music to help set the mood or dim the lights or shut them off completely. The blanket he’s sitting on is scratchy and he swears he can feel it through the fabric of his jeans. Finally, he hears the click of the bathroom door opening and approximately five thoughts process through his head at once;

 One, her hair is down, swung over one shoulder. It’s precise without looking like she did it on purpose (she did). Harry notices a small globe tattoo at the very top of her shoulder.

 Two, she’s taller than he thought, standing in front of him as he’s seated on the edge of the bed frozen with fear. He’s eye level with her bust and now he can hear her heart too.

 Three, her skin is a lot warmer than Harry expected. His hand cups her hip, his thumb toying with the bottom hem of her loose fitting tee shirt.

 Four, she smells like a mixture of seasalt and French vanilla coffee.

 Five, he can’t fucking go through with this.

 “I - I’m sorry, I can’t.”

 Harry stands and backs himself into a corner, biting at his thumbnail, shoulders hunched over. Evan takes a step towards him and he flinches backwards.

 “Have I done something wrong?” She asks. She’s on the verge of tears, mostly from the embarrassment of flinging herself at a total stranger she’d picked up at a fucking Diner, and partially because she misses her boyfriend, well, ex now.

 “No, no. You’re fine. I just can’t sleep with you. You’re great, honestly. I just...can’t do it.”

 “Oh my God,” Evan gasps, “are you gay? I’m so sorry, I just assumed - “

 “No! No I’m not gay,” Harry corrects, “not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’m just, not. I know I’ll regret all of this in the morning and quite possibly the rest of my life -”

 Evan laughs, loud and breathy. It’s more of a relief than anything. She really didn’t want to sleep with Harry either. Although he was quite attractive and interesting and all that but in a way she thought that sleeping with him would cheapen the night. Having sex with him would’ve given the whole spontaneity of everything less meaning and it took him forcing himself into a corner like a terrified puppy for her to realize that.

 “Come here,” she says, sitting down and patting the space of mattress next to her.

 Harry hesitates, his heart still racing as if she were underneath him.

 “I just got dumped,” Evan starts, and he isn’t quite sure why she’s telling him this, “he said that while we were great together, he had to focus on school and his career and I just didn’t fit into that. So I cried, and went to the Diner, ate my weight in pancakes and now I’m here, with you.”

 “I think he’s an idiot,” Harry consoles, holding her hand in his.

 Evan swallows the lump in her throat, “thanks.”

 “No problem.”

 Silence again, and it’s truly quiet for the first time since Harry had arrived in the City. He sighs and savors what he’s sure are going to be far and few in between moments. Evan yawns and rubs her eyes, it’s been a while since she’s been this tired. She’s been tired since she got to the Diner and the night’s ups and downs just added to her exhaustion.

 “You can sleep here if you want,” Harry offers, “or I can call you a cab if you’re not comfortable with that.”

 Evan smiles, “I think I’ll stay here.”

 Sunday, March 25, 2018

185 Bleecker Street, Apartment 11A, New York, NY

 “Where the fuck is Evan?!” Polly hollers from the hallway between apartments 11A and 11B.

 It’s half past seven and the boy’s show at the bar up the street starts in a half hour. Evan never misses show nights on Sundays and Polly is impatient.

 “Relax, maybe she got stuck in traffic,” Louis rubs her lower back, trying to calm down his girlfriend.

 Polly stomps and puts her hands on her hips, “well then she should’ve called! This is so disrespectful. She knows how important - “

 Louis covers her mouth with his palm, “Polls, it’s fine. I’m going to round up Harry and Niall and we’re going to go across the street to get set up. Meet us there in ten?”

 She nods, her stature loosening a bit when he removes his hand, “sorry, I’m PMS-ing,” she defends, folding her arms across her chest.

 “Yeah, I know,” Lou teases before giving her a kiss on the forehead, “I’ll order us a round and you can get nice and blitzed tonight.”

 She chuckles and smacks him on the bum, “go! You’ll be late!”

 Louis goes back into 11A and Polly can hear the faint sounds of him hollering at the other two to hurry up. Pounding footsteps make their way up the hallway and Polly is half pissed, half relieved to finally see her cousin.

 “Finally! I didn’t think you were going to make it,” Polly snapped.

 Evan didn’t respond and just pulled her into the apartment.

 “Everyone to the living room!” She yells excitedly and Polly rolls her eyes and wonders what the hell she’s doing.

 The three boys come rushing into the living room. Huck isn’t far behind and lets himself into the apartment. Evan steps away from her cousin and clutches onto her boyfriend, excitedly biting her lip.

 “What?!” The four friends chime in unison.

 “We’re engaged!” And she holds up her left hand and shiny diamond ring to prove it.

 Niall stifles a laugh into a cough and Harry plans on getting very, very drunk.

 Sunday, August 26, 2012

Goddard Hall

79 Washington Square East, New York, NY

 It had been three days since Evan parted ways with Harry. They hadn’t so much as shared their names with each other, nor phone numbers nor anything else. They fell asleep halfway into an episode of Friends and Evan left when the dawn of morning came. When Harry finally woke up in the early afternoon, he thought maybe she’d been a dream; a toxic combination of too much coffee, not enough sleep and a brand new city. But when he heard a crinkle from his back pocket and pulled out the tattered paper placemat with her drawing, he knew she had, in fact, been for real.

 He couldn’t wait to tell Louis.

 Move in day at Goddard Hall was going smoothly for Evan and her father, Evan Bosco Sr. After believing for months that their daughter was a son due to faulty ultrasound equipment in Cambodia, Mr. and Mrs. Bosco couldn’t decide on a name for their daughter, so they just settled on naming her what they had intended on naming their son.

 “I think that’s the last of it,” Evan Sr. says, dropping the last tote of belongs on the floor of his daughter’s new dorm room, “want me to help you unpack?”

 “Nah,” Evan replies, “I’ll probably just do the essentials tonight, get a pizza and watch some Netflix.”

 Evan Sr. had a swollen heart, watching his only daughter, his only child leave home for college. Even if she really wasn’t all that far from home. The apartment would be quieter, he’d miss their morning cups of coffee while they split the paper; crosswords and the business section for him, current affairs and comics for her. He’d miss (although he’d never admit it) when he’d have to remind her to pick up her dishes or clean up her room. He’d miss having his partner in crime with him.

 “Alright, if you need anything, just call me and I’ll be here.”

 “Yes dad,” Evan groans.

 “I’m not far. Even if you need to get away from your new roommate -”

 “I’m sure the twelve minute subway ride to get home will really be a daunting when I want to shower in private.”

 He laughs, “where is this roommate anyways?”

 “No clue,” Evan shrugs, “maybe I’ll get lucky and end up with a room to myself. Then you’ll really never see me.”

 “Hey,” Evan Sr. turns the rolling chair from the desk and sits in it, “how about once a week, no matter what, we do something? Whether it’s dinner, lunch, shopping, a movie, doesn’t matter. Deal?”

 “Dad,” she starts, she can see the corners of her father’s eyes twinkling like they do right before he cries, “I’m not moving to a different country, just a different neighborhood. You’ll be too busy living up the bachelor lifestyle in your newly empty apartment that you won’t have time to miss me.”

 Evan Sr. stands and pulls his daughter into a hug. He squeezes her tight and plants a kiss on the top of her head before letting her go and heading for the door, “okay, I’ll let you get to it.”

 “Love you, Dad.” She says.

 Her father waves and yells, “Love you too, my little snickerdoodle!” Down the crowded hallway back at her.

 Evan laughs and closes the door, turning to her empty dorm room. She sighs once and lays down on the uncomfortable twin bed and instantly regrets fighting her father to let her live on campus.

 Somewhere in the middle of the third season of Arrested Development, Evan falls asleep, curled into a ball on her unmade bed. It’s dark in the room when she wakes up a couple hours later with still no sign of her roommate. Maybe I did get lucky and end up alone. She thinks. She plugs in her microwave and whips up some cup noodles and settles back into bed. Another hour passes before there’s a the sound of keys jingling outside the dorm door. After a couple of hushed swears the door pops open and it takes a few seconds for Evan’s eyes to adjust from the brightness of her laptop screen to the darkness of the room.

 When the light flicks on she can’t seem to find the words she wants to say so instead, stares with her mouth agape at the sight of Diner boy standing in front of her. He looks at the piece of paper in his hand, “Evan?”

 “Yeah?”

 Evan scrambles to the move in slip on her bedside table with the name of her roommate listed on it, “I assumed Harry was short for Harriet.”

 Harry bursts out laughing, falling onto his bed across from Evan’s.

 Since they day they met, Harry Styles knew Evan Bosco would take him on the ride of his life.

FIRST AND FOREMOST THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE ON THE PROLOGUE. Holy crap. And all the lovely messages too! I’m so excited to go on this journey with you guys and share all of the shenanigans that this gang is going to get into. 

Until next time!

#fic: oifl #chapter oneeeeee #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #1dff

[simgerale]

CHAPTER SIX ; 3/3

TRANSCRIPT:

[footsteps echo]

luca: [breathes a sigh of relief] Your majesty! They said that you would not waste your breath on me.

magdalena: Prince of Eden—

l: Will you not say my name anymore?

m: Prince of Eden, I am here to inquire your reasons for trespassing onto royal land, since you refuse to answer to the captain of my guard.

l: I meant no harm. No ill intentions.

m: It is hard to imagine why an important asset to the Eden Empire would go undercover at his enemy’s ball, if not for intentions that were far from honorable. Why hide your identity and sneak onto royal land if you meant well?

l: ...It is rather complicated, your majesty. But if I had wished to cause trouble for Volais, I would have started by assassinating its leader and not spending two hours becoming acquainted with her.

m: [purses her lips] Even so, I fear that there is more than enough reason to charge you with breaching the contract created by our fathers. And as you know... the punishment they deemed appropriate was—

l: Death.

#regal #ts4 story #dun dun DUN #too dramatic yet??? 😎 #magdalena is just doing her job as empress don't hate her <3 #next chapter is a good oneeeeee but ya gotta wait until next weekend!!!! #thank you all for being so patient with me 💖💗💖

[nialledfromfics]

The Dating Game | Chapter Eleven 

~~

His body felt like blazing fire under her fingertips. His skin, like the sweetest candy on her tongue. His breath, like the freshest ocean air in her lungs. Their sticky-wet bodies moved together, slowly then faster, then slow again, giggles being replaced by salacious moans with every shared soft touch and greedy roll of their hips. It was sensual and intimate and filthy and obscene, endlessly consuming each other until there was barely anything left, until their flesh was raw and scathed and their already strangling breaths were merely depleted. And neither would have traded it for the world. 

Niall had spent every single night at Joey’s apartment the two weeks following their life-changing revelation of feelings; walking Sadie for her in the mornings, queuing shows on her Netflix account that he thought she’d like, using her apple scented shampoo in the shower, and stealing the covers as he slept in her bed. The moment she got home at night, he was there, leaving again sometime after she had gone to work the next morning. She couldn’t keep her hands off of him, or her lips or her body. She didn’t want to. The way he looked at her, the way he smiled at her and touched her and the way he made her moan, it was all like a walking fever-dream that Joey feared would be over as fast as it began. But she tucked that tiny worry in the back of her head, focusing on the light in his blue eyes and the cute dimple that pressed in his cheek the moment he stepped through her front door every evening. 

The dusty gray hue of the rising sun bled past the cloudy sky, filtering through the blinds and into Joey’s bedroom. She was slotted against him, her back arching into his front as Niall lazily fucked into her from behind, his big hand gripping at her hip to keep her steady. Joey faintly moaned, biting harshly into her bottom lip as Niall sucked across the side of her neck. His tongue traced the pulsing vein, and Joey reached back to tangle her fingers into his dark hair, holding his mouth to her skin. By the time Niall had slipped his touch from her hip to between her legs, rubbing slowly at the tiny nub amongst her wet folds, Joey had let herself go, coming hard, and loud, around him. Niall eased himself to his own sweet and satisfying release, deep grunts spilling out across her trembling flesh. 

After catching her breath and Niall sliding himself from her swollen center, Joey brushed away at the hair sticking to her forehead in a sigh. “Every morning should be this good,” she softly mumbled, Niall chuckling as he sprawled out onto his back next to her and used the heels of both palms to rub the sleep from his eyes. 

“Are ya sayin’ it's not?” he teased, pushing an arm up under his head and peering over at her. 

Rolling her eyes, Joey turned her body over on her side to face him. “You know what I mean,” she shot back, tucking her hands between her cheek and the pillow. “It was just exceptionally good this morning.” 

Niall raised a brow and licked over his lips to contain the smirk that attempted to pull at the corner. “You’re welcome, my love.” 

Grabbing around his neck, Joey leaned over to push a kiss to his lips. “Thank you for your service.” 

“Shut up,” he choked out in a laugh, his eyes pinching shut. Smiling at him, Joey tenderly ran her fingernails through the scruffy beard that covered his jaw. Her light brown eyes trailed after her delicate movements. Niall just watched her, his stare swimming over her still flushed face and tangled mess of her red hair that fanned out over her pillow, his mind reeling in how gorgeous she looked like that. He breathed out a smile.  

“We should go out,” Joey then said, dropping her hand to rest on his bare chest as her eyes met his. 

Niall buckled his brows. “Go out?” 

“Yeah,” she said with a shrug of her one shoulder, “like on a date.” 

Turning his head to peer up at the ceiling, Niall took a moment to think as his fingers resting behind his head twisted in his hair. It was then that it dawned on him...she was right. Two weeks gone and they had barely even left her bedroom. He glanced back over at her. “You made me realize that I am a fuckin’ dickhead and haven’t taken ya out on a proper date yet,” he admitted, a slight look of remorse settling on his face.

Joey breathed out a tiny smile and rubbed her palm over his chest. “Babe, it's fine,” she assured him, “besides...it's kinda hard to go out on a date when you’re literally inside me 24/7…”

“Fair enough,” he snorted, “but ya know, we could not do that thing for at least a few hours and do the proper goin’ out on a date thing instead.” 

She heartily chuckled, her nose scrunching up as she pushed the side of her face into the pillow. “But I really like that thing...,” she started as she peeked back over at him, “but to be honest, I was kinda wondering when you were gonna ask me…”

“Ask ya out on a date?” 

“Yeah, well, I mean…” Joey paused and flicked her stare over to her window. She pulled in a low breath. “We are dating, right? I mean...I know we haven’t, like, defined anything or whatever, but–”

Joey’s words cut short as she felt the heat of Niall’s hand slide under the covers to rest on her thigh. His thumb rubbed small circles into her skin and her gaze caught his once more. “Yeah, petal,” he said softly, “we’re datin’.”

She sheepishly bit down at her lip and slipped her hand from Niall’s chest to tuck some hair behind her ear. “Okay...so we’re dating,” she said. Niall couldn’t help but smile at her reaction as she looked back over at him. “But we’ve never actually gone out on a date.” 

“You make a good point, darlin’,” he agreed, nodding his head. She laughed. “Perhaps, we should fix that then?” 

“Perhaps…” 

A smirk tugged at his lips. “Jo, will you do me the honor of goin’ on a date with me?” 

“That depends,” Joey lifted her brows, “are you ready for us to be seen together?” 

“What?” 

“It’s only been two weeks since you broke up with Lila…” Joey reminded him.

Niall rolled his eyes in a low huff. “Yeah, but that doesn’t matter, I told ya, she didn’t matter.” 

“I know, but…” Joey paused, and pulled in a deep breath, “but people might not look at it like that since everyone knew you were together. And it was different for us before when we were just friends, but seeing us now? They don’t know that it wasn’t real between you guys.” 

His blue eyes darted over her face and Niall slipped his hand from her thigh under the covers to gently sweep his knuckles over her cheek. “Listen,” he told her, his voice soft, “ya can’t worry ‘bout what any of those people say, the media, the fans, they’re all gonna talk shit no matter what the truth is. Ya can’t pay any mind to it.” Joey nodded quietly as she chewed at her bottom lip. “It’s a double edged sword, ya know? You wanna be private and keep it all to yourself but also ya wanna live your life and shout it from the rooftops. Ya gotta find a balance and that can be hard sometimes.” 

Joey fell quiet for a second, her eyes glazing over as thoughts swirled around in her head. Thoughts of him, with Lila. Ones that she would have assumed would never creep into her mind again now that they were together. “A few weeks ago, I saw the pictures of you and Lila,” she began, catching his stare. “Walking down the street, holding hands...kissing.” 

Niall inhaled sharply and tucked his lips into his mouth. He knew exactly what she was referring to, and he instantly felt terrible. That was definitely not something he had wanted her to see. “I’m sorry, love,” he whispered. 

“No, it’s fine,” she insisted, shaking her head, “I-...well, at the time I wanted to throw up, and I’m pretty sure I was two seconds away from breaking my phone in half,” Niall chuckled as she went on, “but…” Joey shrugged.

Rolling over on his side to face her, Niall reached out and carefully slid his finger along her neck, untucking some of her red hair that was clamped in between her cheek and her shoulder. His hand dragged down to rest at the curve of her waist as his eyes drifted over hers. “Can I be honest with ya?” he then said, Joey nodding in response. “Her agent kinda set that up.” 

“What?” she said, her eyes going big. 

“I wasn’t very keen on it,” Niall explained, the side of his face scrunching up, “it’s not somethin’ I normally do, ya know, like the pap walk type of things. But...they thought it would be good for her image, brand or whatever and...she asked me to do it and...well, I did.” 

“Wow,” Joey breathed out, moving her eyes down to his chest. She let her finger gently twirl into the dark hairs. “So…you’re a whore.” 

She shot her eyes up to his, unable to hold back her smile as Niall burst into a laugh, his arm wrapping around her naked torso and pulling her closer into him. “Shut the fuck up,” he muttered, Joey’s giggles being quieted by the press of his mouth on hers. 

“Just know,” he went on after easing his lips away, “that I’d never have to pretend that shit with you...ever.” 

Her fingers carded through the front of his hair. “I know,” she whispered, smiling as she swept some strands off to the side. “So, what’s your plans for our big date?” 

“Jesus, I dunno,” Niall shrugged, “gotta think about it.” 

Joey slipped her fingertip along his jaw. “Okay…” she said sweetly, meeting his heavy lidded stare, “well, can you think about it while you fuck me again?” 

He smirked at her insatiblity, his touch dipping down to her backside making Joey’s eyes flutter. “Not sure I’ll do much thinkin’ about that while I’m fuckin’ you…” he told her as he brushed the tip of his nose to hers, drawing her back into a kiss.

•

Trying to get Niall to give Joey even the tiniest of a hint about their big first date was like pulling teeth. He was not budging, not in the slightest. He remained tight-lipped the entire rest of the week, smiling at Joey when she would try to tease it out of him with sexual favors or pretend like she was angry. Niall thought her stomping feet and crossed arms were too cute, but not cute enough to give in. He wanted their first date to be something she would remember forever, that they could remember forever together. He wanted it to be beyond special and an experience beyond her wildest imaginations.

Niall wasn’t always a stellar planner when it came to things like that. Big dates and such, if he was being honest with himself, it never really was something he put too much thought into. A football match or just some drinks at a local pub seemed to do well enough for him. And maybe it had to do with the fact that he hadn’t found someone that sparked that in him, that made him want to go all out and splurge and take the time to really make it a night they wouldn’t forget. Not until he met Joey, anyway. 

He had enlisted the help of his PA and his best mate, Chris, to help with the planning. Niall knew exactly what he wanted to do, but keeping up with all the tasks to actually get it done in merely a week's time, was more consuming than he had thought it was going to be. So his friends happily stepped in to take some of the load off. Besides Niall running into the studio to do last minute touches on the album and slipping into meetings to deal with the marketing aspect of its upcoming release, he was busy using his networks to pull as many strings as he could for their unforgettable night. As the days flew by, the date night fast approaching, he was getting more and more anxious. He wanted it to go off without a hitch, and apart from Joey’s constant adorable curiosity over the matter, the execution was coming along flawlessly.  

The night before, Niall gave into one little hint, one that he thought would be useful anyway, and told her that she needed to dress nicely. Joey shot him a look; buckled brows and a huffed eye roll that quickly sent him the message that she had no other intention besides dressing nicely for their date in the first place. He laughed it off. But Joey was absolutely reeling underneath her nonchalant attitude. She was giddy with excitement, and wholeheartedly intrigued by all of his well intentioned secrecy and sneaking around, and she could not wait until the night of their date arrived. 

Niall contemplated blind folding Joey for the duration of the car ride to their destination just to enhance the surprise aspect, but then he figured that might be a bit too much. And could have very well freaked her out more than it would have left her curious and excited, at least in that kind of situation. So he did the next best thing; he hired a driver and sat with Joey in the backseat of the SUV, capturing her full attention for the entire hour and a half drive. Upon telling Joey his not-well-thought out plan of the blindfold, she doubled over in giggles, telling him it wouldn’t have been necessary in the first place. 

“Oh yeah? Don’t give a shit about our date anymore, is that it?” Niall teased her, licking over his lips as his fingers caressed hers that sat linked together on top of her crossed thigh. 

Joey raised a brow and gave him a smirk. “Not at all. I’m just more interested in staring at you than whatever is outside those windows.”

Niall took her compliment in stride, just a small amount of blush folding over her cheeks as he bowed his head a little. Joey loved to see him react that way to her, to know that she could still make the red pulse to his cheeks with just a few words. Peering back over at her, he met her gaze for a moment before letting his blue eyes slide down her frame. He couldn't even pretend that she wasn’t the most gorgeous woman he had ever laid eyes on, he knew it and he told her nearly every day, but looking at her sitting next to him; body hugging red dress, matched with a red lipstick and her hair cascading over her bared shoulders in tight waves, it was unbelievable. She was perfect, she was real and smart and beautiful and Niall couldn’t believe how lucky he was. Picking up her hand, Joey eased her light brown eyes from the glow of the radio screen over to Niall just as he placed a soft kiss to the bend of her knuckles. 

“You’re too much,” she gently chided, Niall smiling against her skin. 

Placing their hands back to their spot on her lap, he cocked his head slightly. “And you’re incredible.” 

Joey glanced down at Niall’s own attire; crisp black trousers, a maroon button up shirt that was left a little open (at Joey’s request), and a simple fitted dinner jacket. His dark hair was styled loosely and easy–Niall knowing that’s how she liked it–just swept over to the side, with his beard grown in just a step past stubble and it was safe to say, he looked like a million bucks. And she couldn’t believe he was all hers. “So are you, baby.” 

“How long is the drive anyway?” Joey quickly added, wrinkling her brow as she peeked around.

Niall brought her attention back to him. “Don’t worry, love,” he assured her, checking the time on his watch, “we’ll be there soon.” 

He wasn’t wrong. It was only about another thirty minutes before the car had pulled off the main road onto a smaller back road. Joey was a bit perplexed as to where exactly they were going and what Niall had planned, but she agreed to go with the flow and regardless of her curiosities, she trusted him. The sun had just begun to set by the time the car had finally come to a stop, Niall making Joey cover her eyes with her hands the last few minutes of the drive down the bumpy road. Hopping out of the car and over to her side to help her out, Niall grabbed Joey’s hand in his, encouraging her to keep her eyes closed for just another minute until he was able to lead her right to where he wanted her to be. The ground felt a bit squishy under her heels, like she was standing on pads of grass and dirt but the air swirling around her was cool and boasted a fragrance that sunk into her lungs like an old familiar scent. She hadn’t even opened her eyes yet and she was already bursting with nerves and a flurry of excitement. 

Niall slipped behind her, standing close enough that his front was touching her back and his mouth sat right at her ear. Joey reached her hands back, searching for his and Niall smiled as he entangled his fingers with hers. She was trembling, Niall felt it against his palms, against his body and a soft grin tugged at the corner of his mouth as he leaned in closer to her. 

Joey held her breath; Niall’s warmth encompassed her and seeped out onto the side of her neck and her heart pounded in her chest. She bit down on her bottom lip as Niall inhaled sharply. “Open your eyes, darlin’,” he whispered. 

Squeezing her fingers around Niall’s, Joey slowly expelled air between rounded lips as she opened her eyes. The sight was breathtaking. Miles of orange and green with intricate pops of purple scattered throughout the endless fields of wildflowers. The golden sunset was beaming down across the tops of the brightly colored petals in the distance, the light breeze swaying and twisting, reminiscent of a surge in the ocean’s tide. Her brown eyes wide with wonderment, her red lips parted in silent awe and Niall tipped his head to the side to watch the expression gleam on her face. 

“I have never seen anything like this before,” she mumbled, her stare swimming over the waves of poppy and lavender that reached all the way to her toes. “It’s so beautiful. This is...absolutely extraordinary, Niall.” 

His heavy-lidded eyes stayed on her. “It is.” 

Shifting her head to the right to catch his stare, her red hair slipped over her shoulder and down across her chest and Niall tenderly uncurled his fingers from her one hand to cradle around her face, easing the young woman into a kiss. “This is just the beginning,” he breathed out as his lips left hers. 

“You’re kidding?” 

“Did ya think I was just gonna bring ya to a field of flowers for our date?” he replied with a furrow of his brow.

Joey laughed and gave him a slight shrug. “I never know with you.” 

“Fair enough,” Niall chuckled, shaking his head, “but how ‘bout ya look all the way over to your left and tell me what ya see.” 

Her hazelnut eyes grew big and Joey turned her face all the way to the other side, a low gasp spilling past her lips. Just beyond a sparse line of trees, a bit off into the distance and right at the edge of another wildflower field, sat a round dining table, complete with chilled wine and tapered candles and dressed in the finest linens. There was a small tent off to the side of that, Joey could see a few people busily moving back and forth inside, that had strings of lights connected from the tiered top to the branches of the trees overhead. It was stunning. 

She smiled big over at Niall, and he felt the flush fill his cheeks as he carefully ran his fingers up through his hair just as Joey grabbed his hand to pull him along with her as they walked towards the table. “Holy shit,” she muttered under her breath as they sat down across from one another, a hired waiter already there to pour their wine, “this is...crazy, Niall!” 

Niall pushed out a short laugh, his mouth turned down at the corners as he placed his napkin in his lap. “Only the best for you, babe,” he said to her. 

Thanking the waiter as he walked away, Joey picked up her wine glass, Niall following suit and they clinked them together before taking a sip. “But tell me, what would you have done had it rained?” she asked him, biting off her smile. 

Niall leaned forward and laid his crossed arms along the edge of the table. “Absolutely no fuckin’ idea,” he snorted, not missing a beat. 

Her head tossed back in a cackle. Niall kept his blue eyes on her, watching her nose cutely scrunch up as the sweet sound of her laugh eased over his ears. Fuck, this girl had his whole heart. “Guess you just lucked out then…” she commented, taking another sip of her wine to settle herself. 

He smiled. “Guess I did.” 

Dinner went on without a single hitch; catered by one of Niall’s friends and most trusted chef to the stars and the most diligent and kind wait staff Joey had ever seen. The two laughed and talked, made soft eyes and played with fingertips across the table as they drank nearly a whole bottle of red wine. The night sky had darkened considerably by that time, the stars blinking above them and the moon casting a shimmery glow upon their skin. It was so romantic, the most romantic date Joey had probably ever experienced, being out there with a handsome man, amongst a field of beautiful wildflowers and tasting the deliciousness of the expertly prepared food and wine. 

She was not a loss for sweet smiles or breathy giggles, or the rosiness that invaded her cheeks every time Niall locked eyes with her and Joey sat back in her chair in a low sigh as she tipped her glass up, emptying the rest of her wine past her lips. “This night has been...something else, Niall,” she told him, setting her glass back onto the table. “I don’t even know what to say.”

Leaning forward a bit, Niall rested his elbows on the table. “Night isn’t over yet, babe, got one more surprise for ya,” he casually mentioned. “Think you’re ready for it?”

Joey peered at him, eyes narrowing. “I dunno what else you could do to surprise me tonight,” she said, lightly laughing him off, “but sure, lay it on me.” 

“Love to lay it on ya real good, but time and place, sweetheart,” Niall spit back, cocking his brow. Joey rolled her eyes at his lame attempt at a dirty joke and he chuckled. “Just fuckin’ with ya. I’m a bit nervous, sorry.” 

Joey shook her head lightly, chewing at her bottom lip. “Why would you be nervous?”

“How ‘bout ya turn around and see, yeah?” he then said, giving a nod as he flicked his eyes behind her. Joey furrowed her brow slightly in confusion and slowly twisted her upper body around in her chair, her eyes sliding through the darkness of the night as they landed on the caterers tent behind her. It wasn’t but another few seconds before the white drapes parted slightly and Joey’s mouth fell open. Her stare went big, bigger than they had all night and she watched with a stampeding in her heart as her most favorite band in the entire world, the Wildflowers, stepped out from the dark and into the glow of the fairy lights strung above. 

Joey couldn’t even breathe, and she clamped her hands over her mouth in a squeal, her eyes as wide as saucers and stuck to the band as they pulled out their instruments and began to play a private acoustic set, just for her. Glancing over at Niall, she nearly had tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. “Oh my-...oh my God, are you fucking for real?” she said to him, her voice hardly carrying over the sound of the music. “Niall!” 

But he just sat there, his gaze fixated on Joey, watching and relishing in her joy and excitement. Seeing her face light up, the smile spreading wider across her lips and happy noises exuding from her as she bounced like an overjoyed child on Christmas morning. The band had started to sing; a pre-approved setlist that Niall had written up from all Joey’s favorite songs that she had mentioned to him over the months of knowing her. And he just slumped back in his chair, a contented smile on his face and his stare never leaving her. She swayed slightly in her seat as she listened and watched, and after the band had moved onto the second song, a bit of a slower one, Niall finally got the courage to lean towards Joey and ask her something. “Would you like to dance?” he spoke up, Joey most definitely hearing him over the calm, soothing melody of the song and she peeked over at him. He had such a softness in his face that it made a warmth ooze over her entire body. He shrugged. “I’m not much of a dancer, pretty shit to be fair, but I’ll give it a go.” 

Reaching up to tuck some hair behind her ear, Joey smiled in a slight blush. “Yes, I’d love to dance with you.” 

Niall stood up from the table, placing his napkin that was in his lap near his empty wine glass and stepped over to Joey. She glanced up at him as he held out his palm to her, and she struggled to pull in a decent breath, slipping her hand in his. He helped her up as she carefully laid her napkin in her chair and let him lead them both a bit out from the table in front of the band. 

His large hands wrapped around the small of her waist, and Joey hooked her arms over his shoulders, her fingers mindlessly playing with the hair at the nape of his neck as they swayed back and forth. “You’ve outdone yourself, Niall James,” she told him, biting at her lip. 

He smirked. “Oh yeah? Where do I fall on that checklist now?”

“Still keeping score, huh?” she teased.

“Naturally.” 

They smiled at each other, cheeks blushing pink before Joey braved an answer. “No competition,” she said honestly, slinking her hands around his neck to pull him into a gentle kiss. “Best first date I’ve ever been on...actually the best date I’ve ever been on.” She paused in a laugh. “To be honest, I’m not sure you’ll ever be able to top it.”

Niall cocked his head back and peered down at her through narrowed eyes. “Who says I’m takin’ ya out again?” 

There was a playful smirk tugging at his lips and Joey gasped, dropping her jaw. “So what, you were just gonna wine me and dine me–”

“Definitely sixty-nine ya…”

Joey threw her head back in a vivacious laugh, one that could have stolen the show had the music not been so loud. Her face came back down, with her red hair slinging over her one shoulder. Rolling her eyes at him, she sucked in a breath. “I guess I’m okay with that.” 

Niall chuckled softly and pushed a kiss to her lips. His arms clamped around her body as their lips slipped away, Joey tucking herself down against him as he held her tight. With her cheek resting at the front of his shoulder, eyes glued to the band singing before them, Niall tenderly kissed the top of her head. “This is only the beginnin’, my love,” he whispered, hoping she would hear, “we got so much more to come, me and you.” 

Joey smiled at his words and slipped her arms under his, hooking her hands at his upper back. She held him securely, so close that she could no longer tell her heartbeat from his and her eyes eased closed as they moved back and forth to the beautifully melodic sound of the music.

#niall #niall horan #niall smut #niall fic #niall fan fic #niall horan fan fic #niall ou #slowburn #tdg #chapter 11 #this oneeeeee GOD can i please date niall RIGHT NOW?? #i hope you guys enjoy #please read and SHARE #and let me know what you think!! #i love hearing all your thoughts :))

[larentsaloud]

Is that scene from Thyme semi passed out in Gorya’s front yard the same where they’re dragging Thyme and voiceover Gorya says “go back to where you belong”.

Like don’t get me wrong these available chapters have had their fair share of angst but with this new trailer they really said: hope you enjoyed the fluff cos LMAO there won’t be many more 🥰 enjoy some character development that inevitably comes with angst

OH THIS ONEEEEEE???

HOW MANY TIMES WILL THEY DRAG HIM AWAY FROM HER???

#wrecker anon #f4 #f4 thailand #boys over flowers