#i did start writing a sequel bring back black fic with the pov addressed to remus instead but it felt too contrived... hmm

[withthekeyisking-writer]

What's your fav fic that you wrote yourself?

This is such a challenging question! Like asking which of my children is my favorite 😂 I could definitely tell you a few of my least favorite though lol, no prob. Some of my older stuff—oof.

Alright, so since I really can’t pick a singular fav (I currently have 101 posted works, that’s just not gonna happen) how about I give a top 10? Not exactly what you asked, but eh life is like that 😁

So, in no particular order, my top ten fav fics that I’ve written:

1. Starting with the one that’s a large presence in my mind, (No) Places of Safety. This fic is my baby right now, shaping up to be one of the biggest things I’ve ever written (already at 69k and not even close to done) which is super amazing, because I usually have a problem with sticking to things after a while. I really love the way I’ve handled Dick’s deteriorating mental state, and I love the fact that I know exactly where it’s going, and have from the very beginning (again, rare for me. Usually things come together as I’m writing, and while that’s still happening, it’s been awesome having an actual solid plan and destination). I love the universe I’ve set up here, and am so excited with every chapter to show you guys what comes next. Hell I love this universe so much that I already have the whole next fic planned out 😋

2. Next I’ll say Three Little Birds Sat On My Window. I loved writing a reverse batfam, and am so proud of the way this fic turned out. I really spent a lot of time trying to get everyone’s voices right, how different they would be considering how different their life experiences would be. Tim and Jason especially were important to get right, with Tim being the one who died instead. I always hated in reverse batfam fics when people just make Tim’s version of Red Hood exactly the same as what Jason was like, because they’re different people and would have different ways of approaching things. So even in just the little glimpses I wrote, I’m really proud of their characterizations, along with that of Damian and Dick! I’m just overall very proud of this fic, and definitely wan to write more of this AU at some point in the future.

3. Third we’ll go with An Active Imagination (and, with it, the sequel Rules of Architecture). Thinking about these fics and working on them ways makes me excited as a writer. Like I don’t really have a lot to say about these, just that I really love the way I handled Dick’s shifting mental state, going back and forth between the brainwashing and having him be not at all aware of what’s going on. I also love how super creepy Slade is lol, how unabashedly awful. Plus writing a BAMF Dick is always a blast, and the Dick in these two fics is especially badass.

4. Next up is Take My Hand Through the Flames, because writing dark!Dick was so fucking fun, and something I need to do again very soon. Dick is so messed up here, so blood-thirsty and masochistic and crazy, which is something that I’ve never been able to truly do when I mainly write Dick. So that plus building an Earth 3 universe (pulling in Joey and Rose and what Dick’s dynamic with Thomas is like) was a blast to do.

5. Hmmm then let’s go with If Night Falls in Your Heart (and am just now realizing how often I use song lyrics and quotes for my titles). Exploring the trauma of what Catalina and Mirage did to Dick was something necessary for me to write, and it helped me work through some of my own shit I was struggling with. (Writing is the best coping mechanism!) Dick desperately needs people to help him and tell him none of that was his fault, and since canon certainly isn’t going to do it, I took it upon myself lol. Plus I’ve become strangely fond Dave the Unimportant Villain 😂

6. Sixth on the list is How Arbitrary Fate Is, an AU I am extremely fond of and seriously need to come back to. Teen Titans (cartoon) ‘verse is always something I enjoy writing, and extending the apprentice arc, playing with Stockholm Syndrome, blending Dick’s loyalty to his friends with his growing loyalty to Slade, how he reaches acceptance that this is his life now—I am so proud of the way this fic turned out. I have an entire sequel planned out in my head, other things have simply taken precedent. I will come back to it, though. Lol I want to scream from the rooftops to get everyone to love this fic as much as I do 😁

7. Now I’ll say A Current of Fate, which is something I go back and forth on loving but it always draws my attention back to it. I hate that I’ve set it aside for so long, I think there’s so much fucking potential in this world I’ve set up, and I really want everyone to see the way it’s playing out in my head!! But for that I’d actually have to keep writing it lol, the horror. Sometime soon (when I have less active projects on my hands) I’ll go back to this fic and edit it a little, update it to how much more confident I’ve become in my writing, especially of DC characters. Also Chapter 4 has been half written for literally a year now and it has Black Mask in it; since beginning that chapter I’ve become far more familiar with Roman (and written a lot of him lol) so reworking that chapter in the main priority, and then I think I can really move forward with this fic. I know exactly what happens, I just have to get there!! (Coincidentally, today is the year anniversary of the last time I updated this.)

8. Leaving the DC fandom, next we’re going with The Source of Grief. My Harry Potter fics have been touch and go, I can admit that, but I’m very proud of this one. I really loved doing the outside POV, everyone observing the actions of Harry and not really knowing who he is or what his motives are. I also got to address all my feelings about Severus Snape, which was awesome. Just, fixing problems and making things better was wonderful to write, and I got to put in some subtle Wolfstar lol, and talk about how Regulus Black doesn’t get enough credit. Idk, I’m kind of rambling, but I’m proud of this fic.

9. Ninth is One of the Legion Lost (plus its sequel Want the Strange and New). They’re both my Fuck You to Infinity War lol (which I liked a lot more than I know most people do, but still it needed some help). Loki is one of my favs, and bringing him into the plot of the movie and adjusting things from there is the kind of thing I love to do—what are the repercussions if just one thing is different? Also I enjoyed exploring the magic of the infinity stones! There was so much that could be done with them, with their level of sentience that was never really expanded upon, so I liked doing that.

10. Now we have People Who Move the World. A James Bond & Sherlock crossover, where Q and Jim are brothers. I got super far in this fic! 15 chapters and 94k, it’s a real beast. I love how I wrote Q, his relationship with Jim and Bond and Sherlock, and the odd little Q/Mycroft ship that I’ve become strangely fond of considering how strange the ship is lol. Just writing a bunch of absolute geniuses BAMFs ruling the world and making things go the way they want to them. Like, Q and Jim make such an awesome team and I know it’s such a niche fic but I’m really proud of it. Sucks that a majority of the ideas dried up lol, because I’m very pleased with what I created.

+1: Honorable mention! Breathe with Confidence. First time I ever wrote anything in the Star Wars universe, and it’s absolutely something I’m gonna have to come back to. The AU has a lot of potential, and I know exactly how I’d address the future of Dick’s story. Plus some side fics of the family’s reactions to what happened, the confusion over Dick’s disappearance. And in this fic itself I liked writing Slade’s manipulations, Dick’s desires, the small amounts of background I included. Idk, I just think this world is super cool.

Well, I hope you enjoyed reading this long drawn out thing! Probably more info than you were looking for 😁😅

#anon ask #ask #fanfic question #fanfic

[extreme-technicality]

Im only messing with you 😘 while im here though could i have some fic recs puh-leaaase - 🍍

Ooh honey, you have no IDEA the can of worms you just opened :D (since this list is so long I’m gonna split it up into SFW Complete, NSFW Complete, SFW Ongoing, and NSFW Ongoing)

SFW Complete:

The Invisible Girl [sonamae]: OK SO it’s Hagakure-centric, with background Hagakure x Shouji and KiriBaku. My favorite part about this is that the romance is important, but not the focus. The focus of this oneshot is on the family she creates with Bakugou, Satou, Todoroki, Kirishima, and Tokoyami. Go read it, it’s great. BIG BROTHER BAKUGOU FTW!!!!!

Ground Zero [sonamae]: Speaking of Big Brother Bakugou, this is the next oneshot in the same series as the above one, but from Bakugou’s pov. Again, the romance is important but not a focus, and that’s so fucking refreshing and I love it so mUCH idk what else to tell you. Just go read these two. The rest of the series isn’t complete, but these two specific fics ARE, hence why they’re in the Complete section.

Lighting The Beacon [M3zzaTh3M3z]: This is one of the first bnha fics I’ve ever read, and I’m so glad this was my introduction to the fandom!! It’s a pretty fluffy oneshot, starting off with Kiri asking Baku out and Baku rejecting him because “who ever heard of a gay hero?” Aizawa hears about that (the basics, no details like names or anything), and things…start to change. Mic says he’s married to a man (its Aizawa), All Might comes out as pan, ace Midnight…and at the end, Bakugou asks Kirishima out very publicly. It’s so near and dear to my heart, and it honestly deserves more attention than it gets.

You’re only relevant until you’re older (they’re gonna talk about you over and over) [futurehearts]: Pro-Heroes Red Riot and Ground Zero are happily married and Baku has a reputation to slowly destroy :D (he’s soft, mainly for his husband, and he knows it…and now so does the rest of the world lmaooo).

Love Notes [PurplePersnickety]: Kirishima gets really, REALLY sappy love notes on his desk for a week or two and works to figure out who it is (spoiler alert, it’s Bakugou being a Soft Bitch). When Kiri asks him about it, he confesses everything and they date in secret for six months before telling the whole class (oneshot).

Sonder [Maplefudge]: I bet this bitch thought she wouldn’t get a shout-out well guess what you write good and there’s nothing you can do about it This is the first work of maple’s I ever read, and it’s perf <3 I’m love. It’s a look at the “totally platonic” (how much sarcasm can I add to two words?) Kiribaku from members of the class, over the course of 13 chapters. It’s full of fluff, useless mutual pining, obliviousness, and “platonic bro kisses”. Read it if you need to scream at some useless gays.

Anger Management [Julietwasanidiot]: The entire fandom is gearing up for S4 by writing hurt/comfort KiriBaku post-raid fics, and I am HERE for it. Because of when it’s set though, there’s going to be spoilers so if you’re anime-only you migt want to steer clear of this one. It’s got an ICONIC rice-and-anger line, though.

Stupid Mistakes [lemxnfox]: Kirishima and Bakugou got in a fight! They fight a lot, but this fight they’ve been fighting for six months and the class is #OverIt. They concoct a plan to lock the two of them in a room and force them to make up– and they DO. Side ShinKami and TodoDeku.

No More Fragments [Ischemia]: Canon-compliant…to a degree. Shinsou takes his place as the Superior Purple in Class A, gets himself a boyfriend (Kaminari) and a squad (the Bakusquad)…and loses it. Or does he???? Canon-typical violence, side Kiribaku, mystery plot.

Caught In My Own Web [anxioussaliorsoldier]: SHINSOU IS IN 1-A!!!!! And he fucks up when trying to use his capture weapon lmao. Kaminari finds him and they recreate the iconic Spider-Man kiss…and then Shinsou passes out from the blood rushing to his head. It’s cute guys.

Be Selfish For Me [A_Reflective_Projection]: WARNING– the entire thing is Aizawa asking 1-A to be careful as pro heroes, by taking them to a hero graveyard. It’s painful. It’s sad (especially when Aizawa brings up a classmate of his who died in their first year as a pro). It ends bittersweet, and there’s some good Dadzawa content in there. The most present ship is Erasermic, and that only really makes an appearance in the last chapter.

Closer [MikeWritesThings]: Fluffy Erasermic, canon universe, where Aizawa starts calling in to Mic’s radio show cuz he misses him. It’s sweet af ❤️❤️

Meaningless Holiday [dysonQueer]: It’s a sweet Valentine’s Day fic, canon-compliant, with established Erasermic for the soul. I highly recommend it if you’re having a rough day and you need some feel-good fluff

Come Back Toe Me [Milligramme]: Aged-up, Pro Hero fic where Kiri has a shit day heroing, but he isn’t physically hurt. Not until he breaks his toe on the coffee table, that is. He can’t stop laughing, and Bakugou can’t stop worrying about his dumbass boyfriend.

Kiss Me Through The Screen [Ischemia]: Aged-up fic with ShinKami as the main focus and some side KiriBaku, but…uh, most of the Bakusquad aren’t full-time Heroes. Kami dropped out of UA completely, and Shinsou never went in the first place. So, Kaminari is working at Jirou’s cafe and works as a SFW camboy at night, while Shinsou is a teacher and watches the stream nightly. Later there’s a plot around a stalker, again please keep yourself safe Pineapple Anon!!

If I Don’t Act… [SilentNorth]: This is gritty and painful, but don’t worry! There’s a happy ending :D (I rarely read/write/recc pure angst, you’re safe here my child). Kiri is a college dropout working two jobs, living with Mina as his roommate, and with a hero complex the size of Texas. Enter art student Bakugou, who can save himself thank you very much. Some mention of depression/attempted suicide, as well as slightly less than canon-typical violence, please keep yourself safe and skip it if that’s going to trigger you, Pineapple Anon.

Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all [theroyalsavage]: A Kiribaku “10 Things I Hate About You” AU where Todoroki asks Kirishima to fake-date Bakugou so he can date Midoriya. Everything is going smoothly until Kirishima accidentally falls in love *gasp*!!

The Skeletons Inside Of Us [firelord_zutara]: Erasermic, quirkless AU where Mic was the lead singer of Aizawa’s favorite local band in college. Aizawa has a crush on him, they lost touch after college, and they didn’t meet again…until their nephews (Aizawa adopted Midoriya, Shinsou is Mic’s sister’s kid) meet and by extension, the uncles. Background ShinKami and KiriBaku, written for EraserMic week (7 chapters).

Life’s a Drag(on) [PurplePersnickety]: FANTASY AU!!! You know, the Fantasy AU from the third ending. But altered, juuuuuust slightly. Bakugou lives in(? ish) a village and helps a dragon when it’s hurt. A day or so later, a (hot) new guy comes to town named Kirishima, and the dragon keeps coming around. Shenaniganery follows. :DDD

Space Dust [PurplePersnickety]: Do you like Star Wars, Star Trek, Firefly, and/or Men In Black? Then you’re gonna fuckin LOVE this :DDD It’s got half-alien Kirishima, cyborg Bakugou, mention of a larger universe outside of the planet (outside of the oneshot too, lbr). It is a oneshot though, even if it is a long one, with canon/typical violence and mention of kidnapping and child experimentation. Please put your mental health and well-being above everything else and skip it if it’s gonna trigger you!!!

Achromatopsia [PurplePersnickety]: DID SOMEBODY SAY SOULMATE AU???? No? Well hAVE ONE ANYWAY!!! Kiribaku soulmate AU (oneshot), where you only see in one color until you touch your soulmate for the first time. Fun fact, achromatopsia is the complete inability to see any color!! I’m sure that’s not gonna have any bearing on the story whatsoever…

NSFW Complete:

A Cast for your Heart [KTG]: Heads up, this is LONG. 90 chapters, 268k, it’s magic and sex and drAGONS and angst and almost-dying!! The fantasy system is completely original, set in modern times, and the OCs??? Don’t get me STARTED. Kiribaku, Tododeku, and Seromina are the bnha ships present as well as a lot of OCxOC ships. There’s also a sequel set to come out this month (July 2019)!!

Long Time Coming [Madam_Muffins]: I’ve probably recc’ed this before, but I just. I just love this one so much, ok? It’s massive Kiribaku slow burn, outlining what might happen if Bakugou is just a little bit more emotionally constipated. Baku fucks up, gets help, he and Kiri get together (and fuck a little), and there’s elements of the Reincarnation and Fantasy AUs in there towards the end!! Go read it, madammuffins is my amazing tumblr mom and I love her to bits.

SFW Ongoing:

Engraved In Your Mind [Hejter]: FACEBLIND BAKUGOU KATSUKI!!! It’s canon-compliant, except for that little detail, but she writes it so WELL that now I can’t look at canon!Bakugou without thinking that he’s faceblind. Kiri finds out and starts working to build trust with Bakugou and help him on his path to becoming the top hero, and it’s GREAT. Slowburn Kiribaku. Like,,,SLOW.

Define: Oblivious [PurplePersnickety]: I bet you thought I was done with the Purple reccs. I’m never going to be done reccing Purple. Deal with it. I mentioned, in the summary for Love Notes, that there was a six month time skip? This is what happens in those six months. SeroKami and MomoJirou are side ships in this one.

The Right Thing [TuesdayTerrible]: Established Kiribaku where they’re graduated from UA, and living together, and being pro heroes…and then one day Baku finds a little girl who tried to kill herself cuz she was quirkless. Needless to say, this strikes a chord in Bakugou (cuz…yknow, he kinda told Midoriya to kill himself in like episode one and then it was never addressed again). He can’t stop thinking about her, and while we haven’t gotten there YET it looks like it’s gonna end with him and Kirishima adopting her and Bakugou apologizing for the bullshit he put Mido through. There is mention of a suicide attempt (clearly), skip it if that’s gonna trigger you!!!

Hands Off! [PullingAllMighters]: Much like Kiss Me Through The Screen, Hands Off! is a non-canon compliant aged-up AU where not everyone is a full-time hero. Kiri is, Kami and Sero are his sidekicks, Ochako is in a different agency, and everyone else is doing Other Shit. Bakugou hasn’t revealed his full backstory yet, but it looks like he was a Pro Hero until a year or so ago when something bad happened and now he’s got PTSD. His old apartment building burned down so he’s living in Ochako, Momo, Jirou, and Mina’s guesthouse until he finds a job and another place to live. This has a fresh take on the hero system, and I really really enjoy it so far!! There is, however, a fairly detailed scene of Bakugou being triggered so if reading that would trigger you, please don’t!! Keep yourself safe, Pineapple Anon!!! Endgame Kiribaku

Blood of my Hand [PurplePersnickety]: Is it obvious yet that I LOVE purple’s writing??? This, I believe, was the gateway work, and I’ve dived headfirst in and not looked back. Fantasy AU, slowburn Kiribaku, and it’s. I can’t even sum it up. There’s too much. It’s too good. Game of Thrones WISHES it could be what BomH is. There’s mention of slavery and past child abuse, please skip that if it’s going to trigger you!!

A Boy and his Dragon [VanHan]: Oh look, another fantasy AU. Have you figured out that I have a type yet? Kiribaku but the Kiribaku hasn’t really happened yet, cuz Bakugou is a literal child who got kidnapped and is probably gonna get sold. He doesn’t even know Kirishima is Kirishima, he just knows him as the cool dragon in the cage. This one just barely makes the SFW list, because there’s no explicit mention of fucking, but there’s a really really gross pedophile that shows up fairly early on and hasn’t died yet. There’s also graphic depictions of violence in the first chapter, and once you combine those two things I would absolutely understand if you decided to give this one a pass, too.

Everglow [Maplefudge]: ANOTHER fantasy AU?!?! In MY fic recc list?? It’s more likely than you think. This one just started, and it’s got that enemies-to-lovers shit going on. Dragons plus my favorite tropes = FUCK YEAH!!!

Crimson [Crocodillia]: I bet you thought I was done with the fantasy AU reccs, didn’t you? Well, HAVE ANOTHER!!! This one has strong HTTYD vibes, and I’ve literally never seen anyone try that before with these characters!! So far there’s only two chapters, but I am HOOKED and if you like HTTYD…you’re gonna like this, too.

Becoming Human [FoolishFortuna]: Demon!Bakugou becomes Human!Bakugou when he refuses to take a kid’s soul. I think we’re three chapters in and he just got to earth and met Kirishima, as well as a few holy people (Midoriya, Ochako, Iida, and I believe Tetsu). Now he gotta find his daughter and keep her safe. Kiribaku with some fairly graphic descriptions of torture and cannibalism in the second chapter, don’t read it if that’s gonna trigger you!! Also he pretty brutally rips apart the girl’s abusive parents.

Surviving for Second Chances [SilentNorth]: TWEWY Kiribaku AU!!! There’s some differences between the original game and the fic, for pretty obvious reasons (medium, objective, and character differences being a few), but this got me to FINALLY watch a playthrough of the game cuz I’m too broke to go and buy it myself!! Kirishima as Neku and Bakugou as Joshua, plus Mina as Shiki and TodoDeku as Rhyme and Beat. Canon-typical violence, and we just finished up Week 1!!

Love And Other Allergens [thefrailtyofgenius]: A Quirkless AU where Todoroki is a lawyer with a flower shop underneath his apartment. Todo finds out he’s allergic to one of the plants, buys a different bouquet every week instead of, yknow, asking for help like a normal human being (I say, knowing damn well I’d just buy allergy medication and not even try to figure out what I’m allergic TO), and accidentally falls in love with the cute (and absolutely fucking ripped) flower boy (Midoriya lmao). It’s LONG. The TodoDeku is extremely slowburn, and there’s a fuckload of side ships. An incomplete list: Erasermic, Kiribaku, ShinIida (Shinsou and Iida), and MomoJirou. Bonus Endeavor’s Bad Parenting, Midoriya Hisashi’s Bad Parenting, and both of those assholes getting locked up forever :D (I’m so serious about the length tho, it’s like 40 chapters or something).

NSFW Ongoing:

Mixing Signals [Shippeh]: Kiribaku aged-up, but they’ve tried to date multiple times and every time Bakugou fucked it up. Every time they broke up, they pretended like they’d never tried in the first place (which…oW), but this time. THIS time, Bakugou swears he’s gonna make them work.

Heartbeat Thunder [Shippeh]: This is one of the few ABO fics I’ll recc, because it’s not just “ooh heat sex fun times”. This has THOUGHT put into it. They’re confused kids goddamnit, let them be confused!!! Basically Kiri doesn’t ever want to rut so he’s suppressing everything about being an alpha, while Bakugou thinks that trying to hide from your secondary gender is stupid. They do fuck tho, which is why the fic is in NSFW Ongoing.

Take a Chance On Me [FanficIsMyThing]: The other ABO fic I’ll happily recc. Kiri is an alpha which lets him be a hero, while Baku is an omega so he’s gotta be a vigilante until the laws get changed. They run into each other on patrol a few times, Baku helps Kiri and crew out a few times, and every time Kirishima *mysteriously* fails to catch the vigilante Chemical X. They haven’t actually fucked yet, but there’s been enough sexy times to put this squarely in NSFW territory. And it’s not just sex!! I don’t wanna spoil, but it’s good I swear.

Opposed to the Typical [Heronfem]: A model/fashion designer AU featuring HoH!Bakugou, model!Bakugou and designer!Kirishima, as well as a metric shitload of others. Basically Kiri is an intern with Fatgum who gets called to help another studio with their fitting, gets assigned to Bakugou, figures out he’s HoH and handles it like a champ. Because he does it so well, whenever Bakugou needs to get his measurements taken again, they immediately call for Kirishima. And ofc they gonna fall in love :3c But its more complicated than that, and I don’t wanna give too much away, but make sure that you pay attention to any trigger warnings at the start of the chapters!!!

#kingdomheartstrashmouth #ask dadzawa #pineapple anon #nonnie #kiribaku fic reccs #shinkami fic reccs #tododeku fic reccs #erasermic fic reccs #bnha fic reccs #did i reccommend enough? or do you want more? cuz i have. sO many. like this is only a little bit my dude. #how many did i even put up there? like DAMN. and i know i forgot some really really good ones too

[saintmccann]

#1 all because of the El Croquis

So this is my first fic, and I’ve never written Van before so if I could get some feedback on how I did with his dialogue/movements/general aura I’d love that. I wrote in second-person POV for the present-time stuff and I wrote in first-person POV for the flashback stuff. I hope it’s not confusing! Also, I feel like this could make a great sequel. Just let me know if you have any feedback. Thank you all so much for reading! Enjoy!

This one’s about a reader who studies architecture and is looking for an architecture journal called El Croquis in the library, but comes across something much better in the end.

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

In a sleep-deprived haze, you sit back in your chair under the warm, dim fairy lights above you. With weary hands you open the first drawer of your old worn desk, grabbing your black leather journal. Wobbling slightly as you twist around your piano keyboard adjacent to the desk, you pick up your wine glass off the concrete floor and turn to the journal laying in front of you. From the ceramic cup you spun yourself on the pottery wheel in school, you find your best fountain pen. Staring at the paper, you have no words --- you need to record what happened tonight before sleep whisks you away and you forget everything. You begin:

Today I found another piece of myself.

You swirl the last bit of red wine that’s left in your glass, and finish it off. You remember that show on Netflix, Sense8, and marvel at how that’s not far off from how truly connected people can become in reality, and how sometimes the universe brings people into your life that can fit so perfectly in every way possible.

You pick up your pen and start to write again.

Browsing through the architecture library with a close knit group of people from my studio, following our professor through the narrow shelves, and her showing us book after book of the most beautiful work imaginable, I felt at home. All of us stood huddled around her in the tiny, three foot gaps between shelves; an incredibly intimate scenario for a university library. Nooks and crannies for reading and perusing, peeking at each other through the spaces where books weren’t.

At the end of the library perusal, our professor said goodbye to us and left through the glass doors around the corner of the long hallway. I looked down at my watch and realized I had the rest of the day to work on whatever I wanted, and maybe go out for a few drinks tonight with some friends if the forecasted rain didn’t hit until later. I was lucky that my last class ended at 11:00a.m. on Fridays; just before the cafe rush at the front of the school of design’s library got too hectic.

As I walked down the same long hallway my professor and fellow students had exited from just moments earlier to grab a cuppa, something peculiar caught my eye. A sign for the most recent El Croquis journal boasted that our school had obtained a copy and bound it already -- I looked up the call numbers for the book and I rushed to the back section of the library to try to find it.

Squinting at the paper numbers taped to the shelves, I couldn’t find it. I slowly walked up and down each aisle of the library, and then back to the sign. “Coming to Section D on April 16,” it read. April 16 was today. Just then, I had a thought - what if it was still in the back room? I hated going back there because of the dingy lights and the damp, gravelly smell of cement blocks. I decided to brave it to find the newest edition of one of the world’s best architecture journals and have a look at it.

After asking permission from the library techs to go into the room, I went down the stairs to the basement. I opened the creaky door to the back room, which was quite spacious; it was situated underneath the campus lawn space, which was about the size of a football field. The books and shelves that had become too worn to show off in the front part of the library were cast off into this room; the back corner is also where the books were bound by the student library techs. I walked the main corridor between the shelves to the back end of the room where I was sure I’d find the book.

Instead, I found six guys huddled in between makeshift room dividers made of bookshelves arranged in a mildly square shape, passing a joint around, sitting on top of stacks of books, and cackling unintelligibly in thick British accents. The smoke was surely going to infiltrate the books’ pages and never leave.

I had approached quietly up until I stepped on some crumpled paper that had most likely been flung from this microcosm the boys had created.  

“Oi!” the one with the short, dark hair yelled as he heard the crunch of the paper under my shoe, “lads we’ve been found!” and all but one of the guys jumped and bolted past me with wild expressions, gripping their bag of joints tightly, laughing down the main corridor toward exit, sending my hair and nearby papers into a flurry. The racing footsteps echoed down the hallway.

I peered down at the man who was still there in the makeshift room. He was asleep on the floor, head laying on one stack of books and his arm propped on another smaller stack next to it. He looked dead peaceful. His eyelashes were impossibly long, and rested there near the tops of his cheekbones, which were quite chiseled. His jaw was a little crooked, and his lips were plump and the corner of his mouth was resting on the top of one of the books in the stack. My eyes traveled down the rest of him, realizing his gold necklace tucked into his black shirt under the leather jacket, and how his arms looked toned from here… and that’s when I noticed it. The new El Croquis. On top of the stack under his arm.

I moved over to him and slowly dropped down to my knees so that I could get a better angle on the situation. I thought, Should I wake up the guy? He’s not really supposed to be in here anyway, and I really want to get my hands on that book.

I decided to shimmy the book out from under his arm and try not to wake him; I’m not one for conversations with strangers, especially considering how weird the conversation for this situation would be. I slowly reached to pull the El Croquis from under his elbow and twisted it around so it wouldn’t hit his limp fingers. A corner of it caught on his leather jacket and my breath hitched - pleasedontwakeuppleasedontwakeuppleasedontwakeup - I thought with each beat of my heart as my pulse sped up. He stayed asleep. I lowered my purse to the floor, allowing my movements become a little daintier, and I opened the book’s cover a bit so the jacket sleeve would slip away from the corner. I gathered myself for a second, kneeling on the ground with the El Croquis tucked into my chest, and internally cursed myself for going through this much trouble for an architecture journal. I stood up, and padded away from him as quietly as possible.

I got to the newer portion of the library and checked the book out at the counter. I put it in my purse and set on my way to get a cup of hot tea from the Starbucks on the other side of campus because during my El Croquis escapade, the library cafe had closed for the employee’s lunch hour. I looked outside, and surely enough with the day I had already experienced, it was raining harder than it had in a long time just to add onto the trouble I went through. I decided to use the back exit of the library since I had nothing but the denim shirt I was wearing over my black short sleeve shirt to shield me from the rain.

A rich, cold rain was beating down on everything, and much earlier than the meteorologists had expected. Jumping out into mayhem from the stale purple hallway, I walked half a mile to my apartment. The drains were gurgling and sipping on the water as it ran down the street. The shirt I was holding over my head gradually got heavier and heavier with water, and moisture was seeping in my hair and in my boots but the reflection on the street and the buildings twinkling behind the droplets and the wet pitter patters on my hands filled me with a kind of nostalgia. It was like a scene from a movie.

When I stepped across the threshold of my apartment in sodden shoes and threw my keys down on the table next to the door, I peeled off my clothes and took a searing hot shower. When I got out, I wrapped myself in a towel, sat on my bed and pulled out my phone. I had a text from Jen asking what my plans were for tonight, another text from Chris asking the same question, a text from Brooke telling me which bars to hit up tonight, and three missed calls from a weird number.

I answered everyone’s texts, and contemplated calling the weird number back. I left my phone on the dresser and made myself a snack in the kitchen. I was taking the contents of my backpack and putting them in their respective places; pencils and pens in the cup, books in the bin under the desk, the El Croquis in plain sight on the nightstand, ready for night reading. I heard a faint ringing and went to get my phone again. It was the weird number from earlier.

“Hello?”

“Uh, hellooo, is this y/n?” The caller’s accent was British, like the guys from the library earlier. Oh, geez, I thought to myself.

“....Yes, may I ask who’s calling?”

“So uh, you left your wallet here in the library, and, well, I found it and got ya number off the studio access card.”

Great. So much for a sly reconnaissance mission for the El Croquis. The cute sleeping guy now had my wallet AND he knows my name AND he’d seen my shitty ID photo.  

“You there, love?”

“Yeah, sorry. Um, where can I pick it up from you? Thanks for not leaving it there.”

“Well, I’m hangin’ with my friend Larry - his mate’s an exchange student here from where we’re from and he’s got a house ‘round here. I can text ya the address. He’s ‘avin a party tonight anyway so we’ll be here all night. Oh, and you’re welcome.”

There was some muffled talk about “gig” and “tonight” and “lids” in the background as he spoke.

“Right, so I’ll text you the address. I’ll see you later then, yeah?” he said into the phone.

“Yeah. Also, one last thing - what’s your name?”

“Van.”

“Alright Van, thanks, didn’t want to keep thinking some spam caller was trying to reach me again.”

***

Shortly after Van had called and sent me the address, I texted Jen, Chris, and Brooke and told them I was going to a party in the neighborhood tonight. They replied that Brooke had found some fantastic club on the other side of the city and they were all going to try it out. I told them I had to go to this one party to get my wallet, but they responded they were already on their way to the other choice. Sigh. I was riding solo. I ate a quick dinner, put on some minimal makeup, and wore my signature “architect” look: black jeans, black top, black chelsea boots, and some geometric jewelry. I went for some boxy cube earrings.

I walked to the house since it was only about a 10 minute walk from my place. Someone was exiting as I was entering the house, so I made my way in and looked around for Van. I spotted him in the corner of the kitchen chatting to one of the guys who had been smoking in the library earlier, who had big bouncy curls and thick-rimmed glasses. As I approached, the curly one said, “Come to bust us again?” in a cheeky tone and I rolled my eyes.

“Van, could I get my wallet please?” I asked him.

“Mmmm…. It seems there’s been a slight hiccup in your retrieval of the wallet.”

“What do you mean there’s a hiccup?” I asked.

“I can only reveal the wallet’s secret location if you stay and party with us lids until midnight.”

I stared back at him with an expression of disbelief for a moment, and then checked my watch. He just winked at me with a smirk on his face.

“That’s four hours away, Van,” I said through my teeth. I was starting to get a little pissed off.

“Did ya come here alone?”

“What?”

“Where’re your mates? Pretty girl like you has to have mates,” he said with a smile.

Ignoring his latter comment, you replied, “They went to another party across town.”

“So, love, looks like your schedule’s completely free! Here, come have a drink with me and meet everyone.”

Van hovered his hand over the small of my back and led me out to the patio outside where the makeshift bar was. He stopped me on one side of the bar and walked around to the other.

“Now then, what would you like?” He looked sort of cute, playing bartender.

“Vodka Sprite please. And make it a strong one.”

***

9:00p.m.

Van and I had just made the rounds through the entire house. He introduced me to literally everyone that had come in to party, and was cordial to everyone. He even made me snicker a few times with cheeky comments to others, even though I was supposed to be mad about him making me stay here until midnight. By now, I had consumed 2 ½ Vodka Sprites, mixed by Van himself, and Van had drank as much as I had plus what he had before I arrived. We were equally tipsy, and I was slowly forgetting that I was here for my wallet.

“Low” by Flo Rida had just come on over the speakers, a certain change from the previous chill music they had been playing here; it’s obvious whoever had the aux cord was ready to turn the party up. Van said, “Let’s dance!” and I clutched my red solo cup tighter. It was getting harder and harder to resist his charm. He wiggled his hips to the music, and it was obvious he wanted me to join him and the other people dancing in the living room. He hopped over to me, took my hand, and then used his other hand to take my solo cup and chug the rest of the contents while he walked backwards into the living room.

With no cup in my hands, Van had the opportunity to swing me around and around and around the room with his hands in mine. He wove in and out of people, sometimes having to raise our hands high to get over people who weren’t moving out of the way in time for us to plow through the room and outside where even more people gathered. We danced, tipsy and all-smiles, only focused on each other, for a long time.

****

10:00p.m.

Another hour had passed and Van and I had grown a lot closer. He couldn’t keep his hands off me - but in a respectful sort of way. He put his hand on my back to guide me to the next person he knew, and he had his arm around me when he was talking to people. He kept looking at me with those big, blue eyes framed by dark eyelashes, inviting me to participate in the conversation. Inviting me into his world.

We ran, hand in hand, back to the bar outside, and he started mixing everything he could together, throwing caution to the wind while I watched him with my chin resting on my hand. I was enjoying watching him. A little bit of vodka, a little bit of rum. Something blue; something gold with bubbles. This and that. He shook it with his hand over the rim of the cup, and then poured half of it into another cup, not afraid to accidentally pour some out all over the patio, and knock over a few bottles of liquor in the process. He held one out to me, and linked our right arms together over the bar. With our arms still linked, we drank from our own cups.

As soon as the liquid hit my tongue, I had to spit it out, and from the sound he made, Van did too. We both spit the nasty concoction into the grass, noses wrinkling and throats burning and lots of coughing. Van fell over me onto the grass and kept coughing and laughing at the same time.

A few minutes later, whatever he mixed hit the both of us and we were stumbling everywhere, having to mutter slurred apologies to the people we bumped into. One of those people I recognized; it was Kyle, one of my acquaintances from a lower-classmen studio.

“Heyyyyy Kyle!” I called out to him, even though he was about four feet from me.

“Hi Y/N! How’s it going? Great party, right?”

“I’ll say,” Van said, tripping into the room just as I had moments before.

“Oh! Y/N, you know Van?” Kyle said in a less drunk version of Van’s accent; he must be the exchange student his entire friend group knew.

“You know Van?” I slurred back at him. “I just met Van today. He stole my wallet.”

“Noooooo I didn’t!” Van playfully replied in a high pitched voice, swatting my hand in denial.

“So, Y/N, how’s that architecture project coming? You finished your exploded axons and section views yet? That’s been the real kicker for me. I’m still working on building my 3D model as well. So much work.” Kyle was trying to have a legitimate conversation with me, and I felt bad because Van was trying to distract me and I wasn’t in the right mind to be talking about coursework seriously.

“It’s fine… My project is based on simplicity and elegance, and experiential maps, so it’s coming along nicely. It’s all about emotional experiences you can convey in the spaces, that atmosphere, ya know?” I knew I was slurring every word I spoke to him. “I think the final review will be a cinch if I can pull off the rendered views,” I said as Van wrapped his arms around me from the side and started whispering things about art and big words in my ear. Kyle started realizing that we were getting cozy, and so it was then that he decided to break off from the conversation. “So some tosser mixed together a lot of our alcohol and wasted a lot of it, so if you two want another drink, you can have friend privileges and raid the stash of wine in my room. There’s a lot of it that I bought for just this kind of situation. Have at it!” He said with a wave of his hands. “Not that you need anymore,” he muttered.

Of course, Van and I immediately locked hands and ran through the kitchen, through the living room, down the hall and up the stairs to the bedrooms. Van threw open the door to the bathroom by accident and Van’s friend Bondy was heavily making out with a girl who had Bondy’s hat on backwards and was sitting on the bathroom counter. They didn’t even notice we had opened the door and kept on kissing furiously. Van shut it, and we both looked at each other for a moment before erupting into raucous laughter. We almost fell back down the stairs from laughing so hard and clinging onto each other roughly, and people started staring at us wondering what was going on.

The next door we opened was to a bedroom, and we began searching for the wine. We looked on the dressers, in the closets, and in the drawers, like it was a game. I got down on my hands and knees to look under the tiny bed, and Van did the same from the other side of the bed. We were laughing the entire time, and our hands met under the bed while searching for bottles. Van held tight to the hand he brushed up against. Under the tiny bed, he looked at me with those eyes that sparkled even in the dark, and we realized our faces were only a foot apart now. The atmosphere changed. The laughter stopped and we stared at each other, mouths falling open, eyes darting to and from each other’s lips as we realized what we really wanted to do.

“Just what the HELL are you two doing in here?” A guy, not Kyle, but still British, shouted as he walked into the room. Van and I hit our heads on the underside of the bedframe looming above us as he walked in, and we grimaced and grumbled in pain. The guy dragged Van out from underneath the bed by his feet, and Van yelped, “Larry, stop!” In a high pitched voice.

“Mate, we’ve gotta keep you in sight. Straighten up.” Larry turned to me and said, “And as for you, miss, don’t let him drink anything else.”

***

11:00p.m.

We had found the wine in Kyle’s bedroom and we stashed a bottle of champagne and a bottle of red wine behind the fireplace screen for later, whenever that would be. At Larry’s request, we had stopped drinking. He’d even given me his number just in case Van had decided otherwise and needed to be given a talking-to by Larry. And although we were now just tipsy instead of drunk, Van continued the touching. Brushing fingers up and down my arm, holding my hands even when we weren’t walking anywhere.

We both sat close, thighs touching, Van’s arm around me on the little couch someone had dragged from inside the living room to the backyard. Most everyone was inside the house now, waiting around for more alcohol to arrive since Van had mixed up most of the stuff they had before. He told me earlier he slipped Kyle some money to pay for what he mussed up.

Underneath the blue and green lights Kyle had strung up earlier that day, we sat in silence for a while and watched the people inside have conversations and go about their drunkened business.

Van spoke up first, his voice low. “You’ve got less than an hour to go.”

“Mmm?” I murmured, drawn from the quiet by his raspy voice.

“Your wallet.” He replied.

“Yeah? Haven’t checked the time in a while, what with being distracted and all.” I shot him a small smirk.

“Distracted?” Van played like he didn’t know what I meant.

“Oh, ya know, drunk dancing, bumping into Kyle, looking for the wine, et cetera, et cetera.”

“Speaking of Kyle - that was a nice talk you two had. That art stuff, I mean. Don’t know much about it, but I vibed with the idea that emotional experiences have effects on how people perceive things.” He continued as he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket and fumbled for a lighter. “Atmosphere means a lot to anyone who’s on the receiving end of a work, whatever that work may be.” He lit the cigarette. “And that simplicity and elegance, right, from seeing the true potential realized, that’s what people look for.”  He blew a puff of smoke to the sky.

Van looked so beautiful in the soft blue-green light the overhead strands cast on his face. I took a finger and traced over the line of his nose, across his lips, and down to his chin. He watched me intently. I traced across his jawline, almost to his earlobe, and down his neck to the collar bone poking out of his shirt. I put my hand down and gave him a small smile.

“In every building I design I take the experiences I’ve had in my own life and I use what I feel to create the aura that people feel when they walk in. There’s only one first impression. It’s got to count.”

“Your first impression was an interesting one, love, how you proper slithered a book out from under my arm today in the library so casually. Real talent there,” Van chuckled.

My eyes almost popped out of my head. “You were awake? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“For the same reason you didn’t try to talk to me! Strange way to meet a person, yeah?” He smiled and took another puff from the cig.

I checked my watch. 11:50p.m.

Larry came over to us and sat down next to Van. “People’re gettin’ antzy, ay? Great party, great vibes. Love the lights.” Boy, Larry talked fast. He lit up a cigarette as well and motioned to the people inside, capturing Van in a banterous conversation about guitars and sets or something. A little left out, I stood up and walked into the house partly to get away from the smoke, and partly to give Van some alone time with Larry. Walking away from Van was physically difficult; his warmth had been so near to me all night that lack of it was uncomfortable. I realized just how chilly the April night had gotten.

I found the bottles of wine behind the fireplace screen and thought about popping the champagne. There wasn’t really a reason to, though. Maybe when I got my wallet back! I chuckled to myself. I meandered around the house, trying to find some other of Van’s friends like Bondy or Benji or Bob to speak to, but they were nowhere to be found.

I circled around back to the living room, about to go outside through the sliding glass doors to the backyard. Arms tightened around my waist just as I was about to pass the threshold, and a voice whispered in my ear, “I believe I have something of yours.” I twist around and there Van is with my wallet in his outstretched hand. I wiggled my hips a little as he handed it over. I smiled and hugged him. “Thank you so much for finally giving this back! Took me forever to get it.”

“You’re welcome, love.” He stood there, a little awkwardly. I didn’t really know what to say. Maybe we were done here. After all, most of the stuff we did involved us being drunk and not particularly normal. Maybe that’s just what Van did at parties.

“Well…. I’ve had such a lovely time tonight…. See you soon, then” I replied. I slowly started to turn around and walk toward the door, a little disappointed that the night was over.

“Y/N, wait! You’re gonna miss the best part!” Van called after me.

I turned back around to face him. “What do you mean? Isn’t the party over at midnight? Like, now?” His actions were confusing me.

He looked at me with an expression I couldn’t place. “The show?” He questioned.

“What show?”

“Catfish and the Bottlemen. Please stay and watch!”

I wanted to stay with him, but I didn’t really want to watch one of the crappy bands that usually played at the university parties here.

“Van, I’ve never really heard of them, and the name sounds a bit odd…. Maybe next time? It’s kind of late…” I was starting to feel funny. He was pressing about this. I looked back up at him, and he looked very disappointed. He turned and briskly walked outside, bolting into the crowd looking a little angry. Or determined?

I headed outside shortly after Van, and he pushed through the small crowd to get to the front of the stage, probably before the band started playing. I shook my head. I took a right and was walking across the yard along the side of the house until I heard someone speak up on the microphone right as I was about to exit the yard.

“Hi everyone, I’m Van from Catfish and the Bottlemen, and this song’s called Kathleen” he said, breathing heavily from the run up to the stage. I stopped in my tracks and slowly pivoted. There he was, on stage! With a guitar! With Bondy and Benji and Bob!

As Van sang the first lines, my mouth was still hanging wide open. I walked back to the small crowd that had gathered in Kyle’s backyard. Out of nowhere, a hand grabbed my arm from the outskirts of the crowd and helped me move toward the front. I twisted my head over my shoulder and realized Larry was the one pushing me up there. As soon as he stopped pushing me, I was right there in the front, and could register what was happening.

His voice was incredible. Raspy when it got louder, and so smooth and effortless at the same time because he sang what he knew with such raw emotion. He was probably waking up everyone in the neighborhood with those pipes, and he didn’t seem embarrassed at all, though he didn’t really need to be. He was the best I’d ever seen live.

*** 

1:00a.m.

The show had been amazing, nothing like I’d ever seen before. The blue lights beaming down on Van and the boys created an atmosphere so cool and beyond heavenly. Van had made eye contact with me so much during the show, and at one point it was so sensual that I felt a little self-conscious. The last riff of a song called Tyrants was played and Van hopped down off the stage right in front of me, dripping sweat with Larry trying to pat him with a towel. He shooed Larry off and put an arm around my waist, pulling me toward him and pushing our hips together. “How was that for a  first impression?” He asked. He ran his tongue across his lips before he crashed them onto mine in a short, but hot, kiss. Everyone watched and some people even gasped.

“How bout summa that champagne?” He grinned, and brushed his nose up against mine; I just nodded, still in awe of the aura he created and the fact that he just kissed me in it.

Larry had already thought ahead to bring a bottle nearby; he gave it to Van, and it was popped right there. The foam ran into the grass, cork nowhere to be found, and he held it to my lips to drink.

***

?:??a.m.

Stumbling through the streets of Kyle’s neighborhood, Van and I laughed and bantered and slurred our way up against many a tree to kiss each other senseless. We had lost the other boys a while ago on their way to find some fried food. We ran through the alleys of the neighborhood, trying not to hit our then-stashed bottles of wine on anything. My feet were getting tired. Van tried to carry me through the dark city streets, but he was stumbling too and couldn’t get very far. He teetered over a little too far with me in his arms and I dropped the champagne bottle. It shattered piercingly loud on the street, green glass flecking everywhere into a million pieces. They reflected in the wet pools of water left by the downpour earlier. Our eyes met again, and I dropped onto my feet and shouted “Run!”

We bolted down the alleyway and turned the corner just as lights were coming on where we had been seconds before.

After a few minutes of running and huffing and puffing and a few more hot stolen kisses against dimly lit lamp posts, we had arrived at my apartment complex. I fumbled for my keys as Van kissed my neck from behind.

Once inside my apartment, I set everything down and took the bottle of red wine from Van’s hands - the last bottle left from the party - while he looked around my place curiously. I poured us two glasses of the thick red wine.

Van sat down in my desk chair and stared at the piano keyboard. “Do you play?”

“Why else would it be in my apartment?” I gave him a coy smile.

He scooted off the chair to sit on the floor while I took the chair. I started playing some of Pachelbel’s Canon in D, my favorite classical song. Van was enraptured with the way my fingers glided across the keys, hitting every note perfectly. Under the warm yellow lights of my desk, he smiled and set his head against my thigh as I played him many a composition. His eyes glistened, probably as mine did earlier when I watched him have a hand at his own craft.

We sat like that for a while as I played. Van peered up at me through long eyelashes, watching me concentrate on tunes I hadn’t attempted in a while. Chuckling when I hit a very wrong key.

When I had exhausted my repertoire, Van took to looking through my vinyls I set up on a table near the balcony of my tiny studio apartment. I sat at the table, sipping my red wine, listening to him murmur “good record” or “don’t know this one” and the like. I started sketching on some scrap paper. Drawing a mass of green and blue meeting a warm abstraction of yellow and orange. I overlayed some geometric shapes on top of the swirls of color.

Van plopped on top of my bed next to my desk, setting his wine glass on the nightstand. The wine was gone from his glass. I realized he had also thoughtfully corked the bottle and put it on the counter.

I moved to put my glass on the floor next to the piano keyboard, still a little wine left in it. I climbed on the bed next to Van; he sat up. Never breaking eye contact, I slid the same leather jacket I had tried so hard not to come into contact with earlier off his shoulders. He put his hands on either side of my face and kissed me delicately.

He pulled away from me and helped me lay onto the bed next to him. He pulled off his shoes and socks and placed them neatly at the foot of the bed, and then did the same for mine. He climbed back onto the bed, lying on his side, head propped up with one elbow. He reached out and ran one of my cube earrings through his fingers.

“You’re gorgeous, you know.” Once again, it was he who spoke up. I smiled and thanked him quietly. “You’re not so bad yourself,” I said. After a pause, I kept on: “I had a really great time tonight. You’re lovely. The more time I’ve spent with you the more I’ve realized I’ve never had someone get on with me so well. It just worked today.” Van’s subsequent lean-in for a long, passionate kiss was his answer to that.

When we broke the kiss for air, I sat up. “Hold on. I have to do something before I forget.” He stared at me as I got up, sleepily walked over to my desk, and sat down. I opened the first drawer of my old worn desk next to the piano we just played together, grabbing my black leather journal, not unlike Van’s jacket. I picked up the glass of wine from the floor and set it next to the journal. I grabbed a pen from this old ceramic cup I made forever ago, and began to write this epic. I drained the glass of wine.

And here we are.

You look up at Van, who’s been patiently waiting for you to finish writing. He didn’t ask questions. He probably does the same thing when he gets song ideas. He’s hunched over something on the other side of the bed, looking perfectly at ease. You get up from your desk, and peel off your jeans. Van takes this as a cue to return his attention to you, nevermind whatever he was doing before. He watches you as you return the cube earrings to your jewelry box and brush out your hair. His eyes ask permission that he can strip down to his own makeshift pajamas. You nod ever so slightly and walk into the bathroom. You take off your bra and put on a bigger, warm black t-shirt over your skin. You take off the little bit of makeup you had on, brush your teeth and look at yourself in the mirror, loving how mussed your hair looks from staying out so late. When you return to the main room, Van is already under the silky sheets and most of his clothes are strewn across the floor.

You climb under too, and love the feel of your skin on his. He wraps his arms around you and the both of you drift off into a fulfilling sleep.

****

The piercing light of the sun through the windows blinded you at an ungodly hour. A voice said, “go back to sleep, love,” and drew the curtains. The voice left to have a smoke on the tiny balcony.

****

You awaken to the side of the bed being much too cold for your liking. The night before is a blur; you remember some things… you remember a boy…. He was in a band… You may have slept with him. You stand up from the bed, body aching from a hangover. You sit at your desk and start to read the journal at the open page.

Memory refreshed, you stand to make yourself some breakfast. You’re a little surprised; Van left no note. You wonder if he was just in it for last night only. He didn’t seem like the type to do that, but at least you’re glad you didn’t do anything but kiss him.

Breakfast was delicious - eggs and avocado salt and peppered on toast, and a heaping bowl of fruit.

You sat back on the bed with a full stomach, contemplating everything. At last, you decided that if he wanted to leave and be done with it, then so be it. No chance in chasing someone who doesn’t want to be committed. You’re disappointed, but at least he didn’t bail later when you were more emotionally invested. Although he spent the night with you. Played a show and wanted you to stay. Looked through your records. And played piano with you. And ran through the alleyways wasted, kissing you dirty up against light posts like you’ve never been kissed before. Sigh.

You open the El Croquis book that was on the nightstand and start flipping through the beautiful photos of built projects, reveling in the precisions of the plans and the ways the sites were mapped. You came across some wild projects that would probably influence your later work. They had everything you wanted in a project, all that stuff you said to Van last night.

You sit there flipping through the glossy pages for more than an hour, reading dissertations and examining the plans. This was one of the best journals that El Croquis had ever released. You were saddened as you made it to the end of the journal; that same feeling you get when you want to finish a book as quickly as possible because it gets so good, but then you’re sad when there’s no story left.

You flip to the last page, and gasp.

Taped over the back inside binding is the sketch you made last night, of the green and blue and yellow with the shapes overlayed. New lines inside the shapes denoted pockets of rooms, and new thicker lines showed boundaries of places, and soon you realize the sketch had been made into a rudimentary version of Kyle’s house, and parts of his neighborhood you got lost in, and your apartment. Van had studied the El Croquis to produce a mapping of your journey together while you had written about the same journey; your roles had reversed. Scrawled above what you both had drawn, he wrote simply, “El Croquis forgot one.”

You closed the book, smile beaming, and you hopped off the bed, walked around it, and your foot hit something solid. You realized a little something was peeking out from under the bed skirt…. Van’s phone. How ironic.

Immediately, you dial Larry’s number.

“Hello? Y/N?” a confused Larry answers. You can hear Van speaking in the background.

“Hi Larry. Could you hand me over to Van real quick?” You say in a chipper voice.

“Yeah, sure. One second.”

The phone crackles as it’s being handed from person to person until it reaches Van.

“Heeello?”

“I believe I have something of yours.”

#vanfiction #van fic #first one woo!!!