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oopsimbug · 5 months

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in which… y/n is stubborn, and harry is still an asshole

a.k.a. regency harry pt. 2

a/n: gah… i literally dont know what to say… how about: oh my god i am so sorry for taking so long! school, two jobs, a lack of inspiration and literally hating my own writing made sure i was unable to post for an entire YEAR AND FIVE MONTHS!!!! i DEEPLY apologise. i hope this is alright? let me know what you think! and yes, there WILL be a third part, hopefully out before the earth is enveloped by the sun?

pairing: regency era! harry styles x reader, enemies to lovers

summary: again, think little women, but with you instead of jo and harry instead of laurie… but harry is an asshole… a RELENTLESS asshole

warnings: harry is still a GIANT ass, all enemies no lovers, lots of really mean things said to each other, they literally truly hate one another like i have my work cut out for me trying to redeem this couple :’)

word count: 10.8k (smaller than my first chapter, but god did i struggle getting over the 9k mark… i literally hate myself)

read part one here!!

Money…

It was what made the world spin around.

Unfortunately, the L/ns did not have as much of it as they used to.

This was why, when their mother needed money to visit their father, who fell very ill, Y/n set out to find a job.

Replacing her mother at her job in the nurse's office wasn’t going to work- she was horrible with sitting still for too long. Besides, her hands were far too shaky to hold silly little fiddly needles. No, there was no chance she would do that.

She could try to get a job at a shop- a bakery possibly? But no, she had little patience for old people, who were always either very interesting and passionate, which she loved, or very snooty and cold, which she despised with every cell of her being- and unfortunately, the majority of customers were the elderly, who shopped when they had nothing else to do during the day, and they were predominantly of the latter kind.

Y/n was positively puzzled- stupendously stumped and magnificently muddled. She knew she was talented, but what job would she fulfill that would be of use and make a substantial pay? She pondered that all morning as she completed her chores- tending to the animals and picking up more wood. Once inside, she stoked the fire, made two cups of tea and sat at the dining table.

“Saf!” she called to her sister upstairs. “Bring your packet and come to the table- it’s 9:30!”

At the age of 13, girls were forced to graduate school. Ma and Y/n, who didn’t believe this was enough of an education, devised a plan- once graduated, the L/n girls would do tutoring sessions with Y/n, who was passionate and proficient in all areas of English, which was what the girls would require the most to function in the world. She would also help with arithmetic- though it was not her strong point, she was confident in the skills they would probably need. Safia was under the tutoring of Y/n, as would Ula the next year.

As she waited for the pitter-patter of Saf’s feet down the stairs, she thought to herself. Unfortunately, all natural thoughts seemed to lead in the same direction lately- all pertaining to a certain tall and lanky individual with brown hair. She was not moping, that was for sure- Y/n did not mope. She was not even upset about him choosing a different woman over her- that was a fleeting insecure thought held only in the heat of the moment that night. No, she was mad. Furious, in fact. How dare he- how dare he?! He strung her along, purposefully got her hopes up for the mere sake of making fun of her- he embarrassed her and then had the utter gall to smirk and wink about it afterwards! Y/n always had a temper, but this was anger on a whole different level. This was searing, hot, burning, blood-red vexation. Her hands began to ball into fists- she wanted to hit something, break something, hurt him and only him.

However, before she could fantasise about all the ways she would cause him pain, she felt a soft arm on her shoulder. She must’ve been caught in a trance, unable to hear her sister come down the stairs and call her name once she reached the bottom and found Y/n unresponsive, as Safia’s face held deep concern, eyebrows knit together as she repeated her question.

“Are you okay, Y/n?” her tentative and soft voice carefully asked, placing a hand on her forehead to check her temperature, ever the sweetheart. “You’re not feeling ill, are you? I know Liz was rid of her sickness a few weeks ago, but it may have lingered around the house.”

She smiled up at her younger sister, who moved her hand to feel her cheek, after finding no suspiciously hot temperature on her forehead. She shook her head and let out a small laugh, all of the rage for him leaving her thoughts.

“I’m okay Saf… just thinking…” she replied honestly. She was just thinking… thinking of how she would pelt that damned boy with logs of firewood. Or maybe she should let Flynn at him- she had already told the Clydesdale of what had happened. Maybe he could stomp him down till he quivered and shook with fear, begging both of them for forgiv-

“Thinking about what?” Her sister’s voice pulled her out of her reverie once again.

Y/n looked up at her face, smiled brightly, pulled out the adjacent chair and patted it lovingly, before replying with a jolly tone.

“Nothing that you should worry about… Now, are you ready to venture into the world of Hedda Gabler?”

Her sister smiled sweetly before sitting down, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Of course I am!”

“Great! Because today, we are going to be analysing gender and how it influences power within our passage!” Y/n was always so excited to teach her about the books, poems and plays that she liked- there was no way she would teach her sister boring and dull theory, or pieces that only reflected a man’s perspective. No, she had an opportunity to open her sister’s mind and hopefully make a lasting impact on it- one that encouraged her to pursue her dreams without needing the opinion or permission from a man. And she wasn’t going to waste it.

“Now, open to our bookmarked page, and let’s begin…”

*****

After finishing classes, Y/n got dressed and ran out the door before her sisters could follow her, unable to take all of them to the village on Flynn, and not wanting to upset anyone. She buckled the saddle into place and hopped on before riding the path all the way to town. After tying Flynn up with hay and water, she straightened out her dress and apron and began walking, dodging men who gave her glances of annoyance for her slightly messy loose hair, mussed on the fast journey on the Clydesdale. She had bigger things to worry about, despite what Liz would say…

She was picking up some lemons from the market, which Ula insisted on getting, convinced that they were necessary to her social status in her school, where pickled lemons were the talk of the town. While the need for lemons didn’t sound dire to Y/n, Liz benevolently gifted her extra loose change, justifying it with something about “knowing what it was like to not fit with others at school”. And while Y/n didn’t believe money like five whole dollars should go to waste on lemons, she still searched the shelves intently, looking for some that weren’t too costly. While leaning forward, she walked through an aisle, scouring the lowest shelf for them, unaware of the person she was about to bump into. Curse her clumsiness!

She walked right into the unsuspecting person before standing to full height, apologies spilling out of her rapidly as she helped the older lady regain balance. Y/n had never seen her before- an older woman, around her own mother’s age, with brown hair that was greying from the roots and forest green eyes that twinkled, reminding her all too much of a certain boy, but she pushed those thoughts away. She also looked of money, with her elegant dress, shoes and shiny jewels.

Y/n began spilling out apologies as it was her own fault for the collision, and the kind lady forgave her each time with a “That’s all right, my dear”, with calming energy radiating from her. Once the two women had settled they let out breathy chuckles at the incident. Beginning to move back to her search for cheap citrus was halted, however, when Y/n noticed the woman seemingly struggling to find what she was looking for. Y/n observed covertly as the lady would gingerly pick up a bottle of what looked to be cologne, look at the label for a few seconds, squint as if to make out what it was saying, before putting it back nervously and repeating with the next.

Y/n noted that when she would “read”, her eyes didn’t stop to comprehend the words. She needed help, and Y/n was not one to shy away from that fact.

“Hello,” Y/n began.

The lady smiled sweetly as she replied, her green eyes twinkling with curiosity.

“Hello, love.” she gently replied.

Y/n wanted to help without seeming patronising, so she was careful with her words. “So, what brings you here, Ma’am?”

She looks around, then down at the glass bottle in her hand before looking back at Y/n. She fumbles and hesitates as she answers.

“Oh- well- I am looking for this shoe polish, but… I seem to be having a bit of trouble…”. She went beet red before she whispered in a meek and quiet squeak only fairies could hear. Fairies or those who had experience with shy sweethearts as Y/n had with her Saf.

“You-“ she slightly huffed a bitter laugh through her nose. “You probably can already tell, but… I can’t read…” she confessed, thoroughly embarrassed.

If Y/n wanted to help the woman before, her holding cologne that would most certainly tarnish leather while shopping for shoe polish convinced her utterly and completely. She did not hesitate- not even for a beat, determined to show that there was nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing at all!

“I can help you! I never use shoe polish- my shoes are always getting muddy anyways, and it would only be a pain to scrub them for nothing, so I don’t have any suggestions in mind, but if you have an idea of the type of polish you wanted, I could help you out!” She dropped personal anecdotes into the conversation, as she often did when conversing with strangers, finding it easier to comfort others to relax around her when they knew she was an open book.

“Oh thank you, my darling! I am looking for a dark brown and black coloured polish that would work best for making leather loafers shiny.”

And with that, Y/n began her search, starting with going to the correct section, before beginning to scan the tiers of the shelves carefully, looking for what the lady wanted. The woman followed her and began a friendly conversation with her as she searched.

“My nephew needs new polish for his shoes. I would have told him to do it himself, but he’s out of town, you see. Went out of town, about a week’s trip away. I couldn’t send my maid either- I wished for her to take some time off while there were less people in the house, you see. So here I arrived, figuring I could just find it myself. Ah, how foolish.” She then sighed once more after simmering in laughter for a bit, looking wistfully at another tin she could not decipher the contents of.

Y/n found the two tins of shoe polish, holding them out to her while responding firmly. “Ma’am, you are not foolish at all. At least you tried! And look, here you are helping your nephew who’s out of town, after letting your helpers take a break! That’s not foolish, that’s compassionate,”.

The lady smiled warmly, the wrinkles next to her eyes crinkling and creasing beautifully as she did. “Oh, darling, you are very sweet for using your gift to help those who cannot. Thank you!” She lightly squeezed Y/n’s cheek playfully before walking to the counter, Y/n following after her before placing the tins on the table for the cashier to process.

“You are very welcome Ma’am.” The lady began to pull open the small embroidered coin purse she had in her slightly wrinkled yet sturdy hands, fishing for a coin before dropping it into Y/n’s palm and winking.

Y/n’s eyes went wide as she attempted to hand the coin back.

“Ma’am, I couldn’t possibly. I was just trying to be of service, truly. Please take your money.”

But the woman was not having a lick of it. Her face grew stern, her eyes fiery as she quickly snapped back. “Don’t you dare try to give that back, it’s yours!”

Y/n reluctantly smiled and nodded gratefully before walking back to the shelves to continue her search for lemons as the gentle tinkle of the doorbell indicated the sweet lady’s exit. She could not stop thinking about her, however. Why was it that men were taught to read and write and build and farm, but women were only taught how to be good mothers and wives? That woman could learn to read- anyone could, really. All she needed was a teacher…

Suddenly, Y/n had an idea. One that caused her to drop everything she was doing and run out the door to look for the woman. Teaching! Y/n could teach the woman and in return, get a bit of money! After looking around, she found her walking down the cobbled street, seconds from entering a very expensive and fancy carriage.

“WAIT MA’AM!” Y/n cried, weaving past the people and carts on the busy street as she ran to her. The lady’s ears perked and she looked back, locked eyes with Y/n and froze with concern, allowing the younger girl to catch up.

“Yes, my dear?” She asked, once Y/n had caught up and was attempting to catch her breath. After a few deep, embarrassingly wheezy breaths, Y/n finally calmed herself down enough to respond.

“Icouldteachyou-”, she said exasperated all in one sentence before punctuating it with a heaving breath. After taking a lungful or two of air, she clarified to the poor confused woman.

“Ma’am, I could teach you how to read! If you would like!”

The woman’s eyes opened wider in astonishment before her face brightened with a radiant smile. “You would teach me?” She asked, almost flabbergasted.

“Yes, of course!” Y/n responds, enthusiastically. “I am currently teaching my sisters how to read, so I know how to do it! I could help you too if you would like!”

The woman’s warm and grateful smile shone brighter than the sun. And Y/n’s heart stuttered with excitement when she asked to exchange addresses for further communication.

This was it… she was finally going to help her family.

******

It was four days later when the L/n residence received two letters, both with express stamps on them, signaling their importance. One was a letter from their father, which the girls were keen to read immediately, but waited for their mother to come home so they could unveil it together. The other, however, was mysteriously addressed to and only to Y/n. How peculiar!

“Y/n you must open it in front of us- what if it is a secret admirer hoping to eagerly profess their love to you!” Ula whined. Liz shook her head and looked at the youngest girl.

“If Y/n wants to keep this to herself, she exercises her right to do so”. Liz’ eyes drift to Y/n’s slowly as she continues. “…However…”, before finally running and springing onto her. “You MUST tell us if it is!”

Y/n rolled her eyes at her sisters, despite Liz’s best attempts to put an end to the “unladylike” and “brash” behaviour. “Come on, there is no way it will be a boy… have you ever even seen me with one? I would run circles around them in every sense before their tiny minds could even get a singular word out!”

Y/n, though thoroughly believing in her statement that yes, she probably could outshine any boy in the town, also- in the back of her mind- registered that yes, maybe she was overcompensating and exaggerating just the smallest bit in order to shield her heart, still sore from the events of Tilly Hughes’ ball and that wicked boy. Her sisters chuckled at her musing as she made herself comfortable on the sofa chair next to the fire, all three of her sisters huddling behind her in order to get a good view of the elegantly folded and wax-sealed letter that Y/n began to tear open. Once the pristine paper was unfolded, she stood up and began to pace as she read- her sisters giggling and breathing over her shoulder was doing no good, and she needed to focus. It read:

Before Y/n could process the words written on the paper, Liz narrated the letter to Saf and Ula- the latter began to squeal mercilessly, while Liz grinned from ear to ear, pores radiating with pride for her sister.

*******

The house was astonishing. It was grand, it was elegant, it was pristine.

Above all, it was capital!

The trek down the natural and lush path of trees and fields was all a ruse- Y/n knew Ms Ophelia was a rich woman, but she but any preconceived notion of what her house may look like while trekking the trail was completely, utterly, jaw droppingly decimated. Once reaching the end of the driveway (walking ever so slowly to take the majesty in), Y/n and Flynn were met with pristine hedges that bordered the entire property. Two large white marble columns with oil lamps attached signaled the beginning of the courtyard. In between them, was a large opening where Y/n could see the greenest grass she had ever witnessed, a center hedge path, and behind it, Ms Ophelia’s grand home. Y/n’s mouth was hung open as she approached the large, stark white building, with its covered entrance, wide expanse and huge windows.

It was a stretch for it to even be called a house. It was a mansion- a manor. Y/n resolved that there must be a plethora of family members that justified the sheer volume of space there was to occupy. She stepped off of Flynn, held the end of his reign, and walked through the grassy courtyard and to the front door. She would have taken Flynn to the stables, not wanting her first introduction to her well-paying student to be interrupted by the attention-hungry Clydesdale, however, the house was so grand she could not even begin to wonder where the hell the stables could be. Instead, she smoothed the light wrinkles out of the frock that Ula picked for her, slightly disgruntled when remembered the lack of a waistcoat she had on. She attempted to fix and flattened the now slightly frizzy hair that Liz had spent almost an entire hour to style, mussed a tad due to the breeze created while riding Flynn, before taking a deep breath in... and rang the doorbell.

She heard some muffled clattering, before hurried footsteps approached, growing louder and louder before they reached the mahogany door, pulled open to reveal a positively ecstatic Ms Ophelia- her brown hair pulled back with a hair pin, but similar in frizziness to Y/n. Her eyes squinting with her warm closed lip smile, the green irises truly dazzling with excitement. She was dressed in a simple yet elegant green and white silk dress, her chest adorned with a single thin gold necklace threaded through a small locket.

"Y/n!!! So nice to see you!” The lady took Y/n and Flynn in with a charming smile, cooing at the latter before stepping forward to give the Clydesdale a stroke down his white blaze and a scratch on his chin, causing him to preen, closing his eyes a soft huff of pleasure. She then looked to Y/n. “Please, my farmhand Thomas will take this handsome boy to the stables out back."

She looked past Y/n to the front garden and called to the man Y/n hadn't noticed had been planting flowers. He had shiny blonde hair, short from the sides while the top was long and messy, slightly damp with sweat. He pushed the golden mess out of his face and smoothed it back, revealing a bit of dirt on the sun-kissed skin of his forehead. Descending down, there were thick eyebrows, hazel brown eyes squinting in the glare of the sun, a strong nose, and full lips that were pursed and curved into a sweet and friendly smile. He stood, brushed himself off, approached Y/n, and wordlessly took Flynn with a charming smile, nodding to her before walking around to the side of the house. After losing sight of him, Y/n looked back to Ms Ophelia, who opened the door and gestured Y/n in.

"Please do come in!" As Y/n stepped through the threshold of the house, Ms Ophelia continued.

"I was just about to make myself a cup of tea- I warmed up enough water for the both of us. How do you take it?" The older woman began walking, Y/n trailing behind her as they entered the beautiful eggshell white kitchen with purple accents.

"Oh, well if it isn't a bother, I take one sugar and only a bit of milk" Y/n watched as the woman poured the boiling tea into the two mugs.

"Huh!" Ms O looked at Y/n funny, before looking down at the cups she was working on. "Me too! Just enough milk to make it a very dark brown?"

Y/n’s eyes begin to light up incredulously. "Yeah! That's right! My sisters all think that I never put enough in!"

"My nephew does too!"

The women looked at each other and smiled- they both knew there was some sort of connection that brought the two of them together, and that they would be kindred spirits.

*******

The lesson went swimmingly, as agreed by both Y/n and Ms Ophelia (sorry- just Ophelia, the older woman had been very adamant about that). They had sat and begun with the alphabet, and while Ophelia was quite bashful when Y/n corrected her, they knew that with time, they would become more comfortable. Eventually, despite her consistent imploring that she stay for dinner, Y/n insisted she must go home.

"But my nephew will be home soon! He is such a charming, well articulated boy! Loves reading and the such- You two would get along so delightfully!" She clapped her hands eagerly at the thought, however, Y/n, softly stroking a saddled Flynn- thanks to Thomas, who wordlessly passed her the reins before walking off- looked at her new student and friend with a soft smile.

"I'm sure anyone who grew up around you would be a wonderful friend, Ophelia, however I really must get home. My family will be expecting me soon."

Once goodbyes had been exchanged, they agreed to meet once again in a few days. And with that, Y/n mounted Flynn and began to ride the now dusky ride home. She may have dawdled a little- the sun was still so warm, and the breeze was beautiful. Flynn moved at a comfy pace as she appreciated the beauty of the world around her.

However, that beauty was soon not in her focus when Y/n noticed someone riding towards her in the distance. She continued her pace, and as the figure approached, ready to return a polite nod if they were to greet her. As the figure continued on further, she squinted and began to make out a mop of brown hair, and a black blob of a coat, before all too quickly she recognised those sharp green eyes and the nose and those stupidly plush lips as he trotted closer and closer and god- oh no…

Y/n began to feel her stomach drop.

"Well well well! Look who it is!" That snide voice, that blasted smirk that taunted her.

It was her arch nemesis.

His horse slowed down while she did nothing to stop Flynn, walking completely past him without even acknowledging him- her eyes forward and steely. She thought she had escaped him but she heard footsteps coming closer, however, and soon, Y/n was walking side by side with none other than Harry Styles.

"What's with the cold shoulder, sweetheart? Have I done something to upset you?" He taunted in a teasing tone.

"I am not your sweetheart, and don't you have a party to crash, loverboy?" She rolled her eyes and kept moving forward, him keeping an identical pace beside her.

"Ooft, take it easy darling, you’re going to hurt my. Large. Throbbing. Swollen. Red. Hot. Heart!" He punctuated each word with a beat, and Y/n's face became hot; she began to scrunch the sweaty leather reigns harder into her palms at the obvious innuendo. Harry saw this and grinned wickedly for getting to her, a malicious giggle even seeping out of him- he enjoyed this. He enjoyed relishing in her awkwardness. Once his giggles calmed, he shook his head and continued. "What are you doing out so late anyways? Meeting up with a secret lover?"

Y/n couldn't even dignify that with a response, and merely scoffed and rolled her eyes again at the preposterous accusation. He noticed and continued.

"Hey, you scoff at that now, but who knows. It seems to be the quiet, pure ones that surprise me the most. The most proper girls always turn out to be the dirtiest. So, no- I don't think it's out of this world for a little thing like you to be getting your hands or mouth sullen for a bit of pleasure. Did you see the way you trembled for me the night we met? And the way you cried when I was paying attention to that little French girl? Don't lie, you were charmed, and seeing me with someone else broke your fragile. Little. Heart."

He was unbelievable for bringing that up again… Y/n felt her rage boiling now. She responded bitterly and slowly. "Please, you are so full of yourself…. And of course you would know all about women and their sexuality, now wouldn't you"

"Hard to scorn someone for being likeable, isn't it, Grumpy?"

Y/n had to stop her horse fully and glare at the idiot. She looked deep into his eyes, calmed down and began to smile. She was in complete and utter disbelief. She shook her head and giggled a peal of bitter laughter. Harry’s face darkened in irritation.

“What’s so funny, huh?”

Y/n’s smile didn’t reach her eyes as her giggles quelled. "It's funny that you think you are likable, Harry. You see, there is a difference between being desirable, and being easy. And it’s only the thoughtless ones like you who seem to be incapable at telling the difference. Not a thought behind those eyes, is there?... I wouldn't be surprised if you'd thought with your cock so much that your brain had atrophied due to the lack of use. You're not likeable, Harry Styles... you're just a plaything for widows and repressed virgins who wish to piss off their fathers to use and discard. And I cannot help but feel sorry for you for being the only one who cannot see that."

If she was not mistaken, Y/n believed she saw a bit of surprise and possibly even hurt in his eyes before they hardened, their playfulness completely drained. She did not think she was going to say that at all, and in any other situation, she would have thought that to be such a mean thing to say... But she had been sitting on that for far too long, and he had pushed her over with the teasing and the cockiness. She had had enough. Harry Styles needed to be brought down a peg or two.

They stared each other down fiercely, neither wanting to stand down. Then, he quickly shot at her. "You are nothing but a poor virgin with a gabby mouth that you wish was stuffed with my cock." he spat with nothing but poisoned malice.

Ouch… He was trying to catch her off guard, an attempt to garner some pride back, and while it immediately hurt Y/n, the wound of embarrassment growing in her heart, she knew she could not let him win. She quickly locked and loaded, before pulling the trigger without thinking.

"And you are nothing but a dirty harlot who wastes his privilege of manhood on being a tart to women who don't even want him." she spat back at him.

Targets acquired and shots fired, the two needed to go home and lick their wounds, crudely bandage their bullet holes and hope the sharp pain of the words spoken were only a temporary detriment to their own health, but an everlasting hellscape to each other. Both wanted to see the other in pain. Both wanted to win.

So with that, Harry made a big show about rearing his ashy grey horse up and around, before both of them spurred their horses forward into a gallop and away from the other- both carrying furrowed eyebrows, slightly hurt feelings (that they would never admit to), and a newfound degree of ire for each other…

He won’t get away with this.

********

Once tacking up Flynn, Y/n stomped her way to the house, still unbelievably enraged by the verbal warfare engaged with that brunette ass. She knew she wanted some alone time to calm down, but once entering her cosy home, she was bombarded with questions from her sisters- mainly Ula.

“Was the house big?!”

“What kind of dress was Ophelia wearing?!”

“How many servants did she have?!”

“Did she have lots of paintings on the walls?!”

“Any handsome sons?!”

“Did she tell you if she’s been to any exotic places like France or Switzerland?!”

“How was your day, Y/n?”

The last question was asked, of course, by her angelic sister Safia. Y/n lovingly rolled her eyes at the incessant questions from Ula and answered Saf’s tenderly. “My day was alright Saf, thank you for asking.”

“That’s good- I wished hard on all the dandelions I could find outside that you would come home safe and sound.” Y/n’s heart melted- she walked over to the younger girl and kissed her forehead with so much love and passion.

Ula observed the tenderness of the exchange and rolled her eyes. “Safia is perfect”, she taunted with a roll of her eyes before returning to her previous exercise of pulling up on the septum of her apparently “hideous” small aquiline nose to shape it into a more button nose, which she believed to be more elegant. Y/n looked back at Saf and whispered lovingly in her ear.

“Never stop wishing for the people you love the most, okay Saf?” Y/n gave her one more kiss before moving to the youngest sister with the most spunk besides Y/n herself. She gently swatted her hand away from her nose before lovingly stroking the bridge as she pulled Ula in for a hug from behind.

“And you, little missy! Stop trifling with the features your parents so lovingly passed to you. That nose isn’t a curse, it’s a gift. Treat it as one.” She kissed Ula’s head too before heading further into the house to greet her older sister and her mother. But as they had dinner, Y/n could not stop thinking about how much she hated Harry… little did she know, however, that her older sister Liz observed her suspiciously throughout the night.

Once in their room, hair and teeth brushed, dressed in their respective pyjamas- Liz’s a dainty white nightgown akin to the one Harry so scandalously described, and Y/n’s a mismatched patchwork buttoned set that Ma had made out of Y/n’s old clothes that she was too big to fit into, yet could bear to part with. Tucked into their beds, Liz turned to face Y/n and began.

“If Ms Ophelia was so very nice, what is the problem?”

Y/n turned to face her with furrowed brows. “What problem? There is no problem”

Liz rolled her eyes and shot back. “Yeah yeah, I don’t believe that for a second, Y/n. You can fool Ula- which isn’t saying much, but you can't fool me, so why don't we pretend like I tirelessly needled it out of you and you skip to the bit where you tell me what’s wrong”

Y/n sighed a long, hard, tired and frustrated sigh, before ultimately giving in. “I ran into a sworn enemy on the ride back home today…”

Liz shot up, eyes wide and mouth agape.“Who?!?”

“Harry Styles.”

Elizabeth stared incredulously at her sister, propped her pillows so she was sitting up, and began needling Y/n for more information. “What did he say? What did he do? Why is he your enemy?”

Y/n sighed. There was no way she was going to get to sleep until she told Liz everything. So she began…“You know of his reputation, yes?”

Y/n’s older sister gasped again. “Y/n… don’t tell me… he… with you?”

Y/n immediately understood what she was insinuating. “NO! No way! Never! Not in a million years! You know I hate everything to do with boys. I cannot believe you would think that of me!”

Liz sighed and sunk into herself in relief. “Thank god! I didn’t think you would but… unfortunately his reputation is quite… damning to say the least. Why, it was only last week he was with Amelie… did you see the way he returned her to the group? He didn’t even bother to wipe her lipstick from his lips! What a brute!”

Y/n brought her blanket up even closer to her face until only her eyes were visible, and mumbled her confession. “I know… I told him exactly so today…”

The older sister slowly started at her, tone changing completely to one low and testing. “What...That he is a brute?”

“Yes of course!” Y/n immediately shot back, exasperated.

Her sister stared at her with her mouth agape and eyebrows intensely furrowed. “...WHY?! Haven’t you heard of his family?!?” At Y/n’s confused face and shaking head, Liz took a deep breath and began. His father lives all the way in New York… Ma told me it was because he was absolutely dreadful to his wife and Harry all the time. Kept money from them, abused them, hit them- so much so that eventually they had to run away from him when he was only 10. They fled to a safe place- some cottage in the middle of nowhere? But get this- once there, his mother contracted scarlet fever and passed away. He had to walk all by himself to the nearest village to call for help- by the time medical assistance arrived, his mother was long gone. And with no other relatives bar his wicked father, he was left in the care of his devilishly deviant, yet disgustingly rich aunt.”

Y/n went completely silent. She didn’t know any of this… Of course this was deeply traumatic and saddening- but Y/n could not help it- her stubbornness was a curse, not a gift. And the curse would not allow even a tale so sorrowful allow Harry a free pass.

“Liz- of course this is deeply tragic and traumatic- however, circumstances can only explain actions. They don’t justify them. What has happened to Harry should mean that he spends his time helping women, not putting them down… which, I guess he does by pleasuring them, but God I wish he wasn’t so smug and pompous about it… He was so- well, not nice, but normal and cheeky and charming, when we first met- it was like a switch flicked in his head and that man no longer exists”

“Of course- if he is as cruel as you say, I 100% agree. Although he has a right to hold trauma, it does not change the fact that he is but a wicked man”

The girls sit in silence for a second, contemplating. Then, ever the know it all, Liz jumped right back into her Styles Family History Lesson, giving Y/n the run down.

“But anyways, his aunt is apparently a very influential figure! She’s rich beyond belief, and could probably control this entire town with the pulling of some strings and some money, which she most definitely has! Do not fool around with them, Y/n… especially not Harry…” Elizabeth brought her hands up to her temples to sate her sudden headache, a frequent occurrence when having to feel stressed for Y/n whenever she inevitably threw herself into apparently unacceptable situations, such as whistling in public or not wearing gloves, and had no apparent regard for the consequences.

“What am I to do then?! He is my sworn enemy- if I see him in my general vicinity, my whole body and soul tells me to rip him to shreds! How am I supposed to see him at balls, and on random walks back home, and NOT rip my hair out of my head?!” Y/n complained with a whiny tone.

“Avoid him! Completely and utterly avoid him”

Y/n harrumphed. “...Fine…”

“Good idea- I know… plus… you know what they say.” A lilt of cheekiness entered the previously stern tone.

“What?”

A wide smile grew on Y/n’s older sister’s face, unable to hide her amusement. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Who knows- maybe he just fancies you? You know… like likes you”

Y/n immediately threw a spare pillow at her sister’s head and groaned, before burying her hot face under the covers, completely and utterly embarrassed. Elizabeth dodged the stray pillow as she laughed raucously at how annoyed her sister became.

Y/n shook her head vehemently. “Never in a million years, Liz…”

Never in a million years…

*********

“Make sure you avoid making the “Z” look like the number “three”. Remember, small angled curl, then draaaaaag down to make a bigger and longer angled curl. Other than that, Ophelia, I must inform you that unfortunately my work may as well be over… because these have to be some of the best cursive letters I have ever seen- I know that I have only ever taught my younger sisters, but I am nothing short of confident that you are the fastest learner I have ever had, ever!”

Ophelia put her hand up to her chest and let out an exasperated breathy laugh that combined a giggle and a sigh of relief. “Stop it Y/n… you nearly gave me a heart attack! Anyways, it’s not that great.” She emphatically waved her hand as if to physically shoo the thought away. “I believe that as long as I am able to write and read, who cares about the blasted handwriting. As long as it is- at the very least- legible, I don't mind a thing.”

Y/n could not emphasise this enough: she loved Ophelia. She was sweet, funny, sarcastic, naughty and brash enough to understand all of Y/n’s jokes as simply that- jokes with no malice. Y/n admired her face thoroughly in amazed silence. Ophelia glanced at her and continued. “Now, would you like a cup of tea before you go?”

Y/n was shaken out of her trance and began to pack up her books as she responded. “No, thank you. I'm okay- I really should get going though. The wind is picking up and as much as I would love to stay and chat, I don’t really think being cold and wet is how my mother wants me to return home!”

Y/n bids Ophelia farewell from inside the house before going out back to meet Flynn at the stables. However, she sees another figure tending to him, and as she arrives closer, she notices not Thomas’ blonde messy hair- but instead a soft brown colour.

Jesus Christ, this guy will just not leave her alone, will he?!

Y/n is about three feet away when the figure finally turns, and she is once again met with the cheeky smirk of Mr Harlot Styles. He looks her up and down carefully, making her insides all squirmy under his inspection- she hated the way he made her feel so uncomfortable in her own skin. Once finding her eyes, he began.

“Grumpy…”

“Harlot… Leave Flynn alone. He doesn’t like jaded asses.” Y/n crossed her hands over her chest and stood with a cold hard stare.

“Flynn? Pretty name.” Harry looked at Flynn and continued. “Does the angry little lady dump her frivolous complaints and girly problems onto your poor back, my friend?” Harry looked back to Y/n and continued. “ And hey, he might hate jaded asses, but apparently, he loves temper tantrum-throwing toddlers if he’s your horse.”

If she didn’t know how horrible of a person he was, she would classify the way he was scratching Flynn’s chin as lovingly- but Harry wasn’t loving, and he certainly wasn’t capable of loving. He was a beast. Just another man who thought Y/n spent her hours with her equine companion complaining as if juvenile… and what the hell are “girly problems”?!

Harry chimed in again, breaking her out of her frustrated train of thought. “Huh! Would you look at that, Grumpy- your jaded ass-hating “noble” steed’s loyalty can unfortunately be bought by absolute strangers!”

He smirks up at her as he pulls a sugar cube from his pocket and holds it out to Flynn, who eagerly licks it up, jutting his snout into Harry’s hand to spur some more pats out of him. Y/n let out an angry huff. “Greedy traitor…” she mumbled under her breath to her horse, before taking a deep breath and got straight to the main issue, not wanting to spend any longer talking to him than she had to.

“What are you doing here? Are you stalking me?”

“God, I was just wondering when I would be in your lovely company again- you know- should I call a doctor for your hysteria? Because it is you, girly, who is consistently following me. I would be surprised due to your incessant reminders that you hate me, but I’m not. Your infatuation with me seeps through your shoddy disguise completely. Face it, Grumpy… you’re obsessed with me.”

Y/n wanted to slap him so hard. Or at least shoot back some equally damning response, but Liz’s words echo in her ears to simply ignore him. So she simply comes closer, walking to the opposite side of Flynn and begins strapping her bag to Flynn’s side saddle pouch.

“Your silence is deafening, Grumpy… Is this it? Are you finally admitting that you have been just another precious little schoolgirl obsessed with me this whole time? I bet you would look out your window and pray to every shooting star that floated by that you would see me again. Did you giggle with your little friends while braiding each other's hair about how much you want me? I bet you squirm under your covers in a little pure white virginal nightgown dreaming about my fingers and my tongue and my cock. I bet you're stupidly in love with me, huh Grumpy?”

Y/n hated the way he would describe typically feminine stereotypes with such condescension. She hated being treated like a little girl. Throwing Liz’s advice completely out the window, she couldn’t help but mumble under her breath- just a little something to hurt him. “What would you know about love, Daddy’s boy?…”

If Y/n looked up from the saddle pouch she was working on, she would see Harry’s eyes blown wide with surprise. He looked so vulnerable- almost childlike- as if her comment transported him back to his father’s house. Before she noticed his silence, though, he schooled his face and began to round the horse, his eyes darkening. “And what would you know about anything? You’re just a pathetic little girl. You act as if you have experience with the world, as if you will be anything more than a boring old housewife, but you never will be…”

Y/n stared daggers into Harry as he stalked closer and closer until he was less than a foot away from her, their outerwear brushing against each other. If he simply wrapped his arms around her waist, their bodies would be flush against one another completely. Y/n had never felt so degraded. She was just another girl to him. She was just another girl to all other men. Her biggest fear was being forgotten- for her loving family- her creative sisters and amazing mother- to be forgotten… For all of the amazing women that she encountered at balls to be forgotten. To be married off and treated as property.

Harry continues on his poisonous tirade in an unwavering cold and calm voice, striking the deepest of Y/n’s insecurities and fears with pinpoint accuracy. “You look down on my hobby of pleasuring married women, but what you don’t understand is that when you are unhappily married off within the next few years, you will be writing letters to me, begging me to relieve you. You will wish I wanted you… You will wish your husband wanted you… You will wish any man wanted you… You will wish you were special… But you're not.”

Y/n held her breath as his hands raised up from his sides, ringed fingers lightly trailing over her skirts, her waist, her arms, her shoulders. Higher and higher, they softly glided over the fabric of her puff sleeves, before reaching her face, and cupping her cheeks. Harry’s eyes slowly flitted back and forth between Y/n’s eyes and her lips. His brows furrowed and his mouth slightly opened, before lifting his right thumb to slowly pull down at her bottom lip...

…then release the pressure created with his hold, watching- almost studying, its fullness intensely as it bounced back into place. Voice now barely above a whisper, rumbly and deep, he continues.

“You’re just another silly little girl who will be nothing but a wife someday.”

Harry’s hands moved from her cheeks to her neck, cupping her head, thumbs delicately tracing circles on the skin behind her ears, sending shivers up her spine.

What was this? And why was it sending Y/n’s knees wobbly? She needs to snap out of it- remember her anger for him. All of her interactions with him, even this one, were merely strategies to throw her off- to dominate her. And she would not allow that.

So as Harry moved his hand to cup her neck, leaning in closer, she opened her mouth, ready to dismiss all logic and decimate the animal standing before her, attempting to kiss her just to intimidate her. Fuck everything- fuck him, fuck Liz’s advice, fuck men and their incessant need for girls to be prim and proper. Fuck all of them.

About to fire her biggest blow, all while he leaned closer and closer, his lips ever so close to touching hers, they were suddenly halted in their tracks by someone calling her name.

“Y/n!...” the voice was urgent but far away. Both Harry and Y/n looked out of the stable to see Ophelia running towards them. Y/n and Harry looked at each other and took a big step away from their close proximity as Ophelia finally reached the stables and held her hand on a wooden panel as she caught her breath, panting heavily.

“Th-Thank-” A wheezy heave interjected her sentence. “GOD”. Another heave. “You hadn’t left yet!” She stood up straight and wiped the light sweat from her forehead with her wrist before straightening her back and walking closer to her. She raised her right hand, which held a small handkerchief, tied into a lovely little package.

“I packed some hedgehog slice for you in case you get a little hungry on the way home!” She sighed exasperated, before looking between Y/n and Harry.

Y/n’s heart melted a little- she came bounding all the way down just to give her a little snack? She was the sweetest woman in the world! And now Y/n was going to see her in action against the intruder to her property that was Harry Styles… Y/n was ready to see some ire and some spit hurled at him once she explained exactly what Harry had said about her and all womankind, really.

But that is not what happened.

Not at all.

Ophelia smiled warmly at Harry before looking at Y/n. “Ahh, I see you have already met my nephew, Harry!”

What. The. Hell?

Harry looked smug as anything as Ophelia continued. “He is the lovely, well articulated bookworm I was telling you about the other day!”

Y/n gritted out a very hesitant “Nice to meet you…” as he looked at her, full of ego.

Harry then opened his mouth, presumably to tell his aunt about the intrusion that was Y/n’s presence on their land, but Ophelia quickly shut him up too.

“And Harry, this is the bright and wonderful tutor and friend I was telling you about! Y/n is teaching me how to read and write!”

Harry’s mouth shut immediately. It was Y/n’s turn to smirk smugly as he gritted out an “A pleasure to meet you” back. The two stared at each other steely, as if they were in a stand-off of the mind, all while Ophelia unknowingly watched on with a large smile.

“I am sure you too will be fast friends! Don’t you agree?” Ophelia had so much hope in her voice. The two grit their teeth, not wanting to make a scene or displease the sweet Ophelia-

“Certainly…”, they manage to comment, in unison.

And after Ophelia hugs Y/n goodbye one more time, before turning and leaving, Harry tails after her, but not before giving a final glance back to Y/n. He smirked, the smile filled with boyish playfulness, but Y/n saw his eyes- those blasted green eyes clouded with taunt. He was challenging her. To what exactly- she didn’t know. To see who could hurt each other the most? To see who would win in the overall war between the two? Or was it just a smirk at her begrudging fate? That she would have to put up with him now because although Ophelia is a sweet woman, Y/n’s connection to her will never trump Harry’s- he’s her nephew.

As Y/n saddled her was going to have to do what she wanted to the least in order to maintain both a professional and personal relationship with Ophelia, who she admired both as a student and as a friend…

She was going to have to be civil with Harry.

**********

Y/n believed wholeheartedly that it was punishment enough; that she was forced into both proximity and (at least) faux politeness with her sworn enemy- but evidently, fate had more to give. And damn, could it pack a punch!

It was almost silly that she hadn’t thought the universe had been through with her… When Y/n made the one-hour trip to Ophelia’s house, she just had to not bring her large, rainproof jacket. She just had to decide not to put Flynn’s horseshoes on, which would prevent him from slipping and sliding in the wet mud… Why would she do any of that?! It was perfectly sunny, and even a little bit warm on that Friday morning…

But no… of course, the moment she begins to wrap up her lesson with Ophelia and ride home- where she would tuck into a well-deserved late lunch and spend some time with sisters- of course it is only two days after she has discovered that her student raised and lived with her sworn enemy- it is then and only then that she finds herself stuck at their house, as a giant thunderstorm magically appears and begins raining hellish hail and pouring water from the sky.

“Y/n, there is no way I am letting you ride home in this weather! That simply will not happen under my roof. I will send an urgent telegram to your mother to let her know you are safe and warm, but you are staying over for the night and that is final.”

There was no arguing with Ophelia. So no more than five minutes later, Y/n was being escorted through the maze that was her student’s mansion, and to a guest room she would be occupying for the night. She was sprawled on the giant, fluffy bed when she felt her skin crawl at a particular thought- though he had not appeared during her lesson, Y/n knew that Harry was somewhere in the house- Ophelia said so herself, as they walked to her room. What if they bumped into one another?

“Harry is somewhere around here- I am sure that you two will be the bestest of friends- you have so much in common!”

Y/n had to awkwardly laugh and smile at that, agreeing as politely as possible so as to not arouse any suspicion- however, Ophelia seemed to take this for genuine interest though and began doubling down.

“Hey, why wait until dinner- I can call him now!? Maybe Harry can give you a tour of the house- the gardens, the gallery, the library! Give me two seconds and let me go fetch him-”

Y/n had never had such a visceral reaction in her life when she shouted a clear and desperate “NO!”... It took her a few seconds to recollect her thoughts before she attempted to save face; she halfheartedly dismissed the idea with a feeble excuse that she didn’t want to impose, and that she and Harry would have plenty of time to chat at dinner. Despite the suspicious glint in Ophelia’s eye, she did not press any further and left her to rest and unpack as she went to have a bath and take a relaxing nap before supper.

Thus bringing us back to Y/n- sprawled on her bed, deciding that she would not leave the room until supper. There was no way she would risk bumping into Harry while wandering around his house. What if he had another sultry guest for the evening?! What if he shooed her off as if she was nothing but a fly?! Heaven knows he had done all of that before- and all on the same night! She began rummaging through her bag to retrieve her book, content on sitting down and reading as she waited for dinner, but as she rummaged, it dawned on her…

Her novels, her personal pens and paper? All of them were either at home or in Flynn’s side saddle pouch, hanging in the stables- she had been carrying her personal books and papers for the past few lessons but found the weight quite heavy, and all for very little payoff- she rarely got a moment to read when she was in the middle of a very interactive, collaborative lesson. The reality of her situation collapsed on her as she brought her hands up to her face and let a frustrated groan into them- she was going to be stuck here in this room with no entertainment for the next four hours - Ophelia was occupied, her books and pens were with Flynn, and there were no reading materials in the beautiful yet empty chest of drawers and side tables of the elegant guest room.

There was no way she could sit quietly like this… She began to get cabin feverish already. She needed to get out…

Harry wouldn’t be strolling about his own house, right? It was 2:30 pm on a Friday- surely there must be some work he had to complete? Y/n resolved that there was no way she would be able to continue to live if she didn’t have something to stimulate her mind, and the thought of passing up an opportunity to explore the various forms of entertainment in Ophelia’s vast house seems daft, even verging on sinful…

So, with a deep breath, Y/n stretched her arms above her head, took a deep breath, and lifted herself off of the plush linen-covered mattress. She ever so slowly opened the heavy, beautifully intricate mahogany door and peeked out of the minuscule crack she created.

Left, right, left again, right again.

The coast seemed to be clear- she opened the door wider so that she could stick her whole head out of it. She looked left, right, left again, right again. You could say that she was maybe overreacting by being so very cautious, but she would rather not run into Harry and be forced to return to her room before she had acquired some entertainment and had a good look around the place.

Once she was completely sure that the coast was clear, she stepped out, gently closed the door behind her, and, with her hands behind her back, began to stroll the hallways curiously. Soon, her fascination with the grandeur of the mansion quelled her alertness and she found herself enamoured by the architecture as she walked down the hallways.

She wished she could dip her head into every room she saw, but she wasn’t that daft- that would be one surefire way to overstep her welcome, especially when she was essentially stuck until the storm cleared up.

She continued slinking around in a manner similar to Fennec’s- she took a right, and found herself walking down a hallway she would guess was near the back of the house, as the large windows to her left illuminated her pathway and showcased a beautiful array of pruned trees along a cobblestone path, with steps that led down to a beautiful, large pond filled with greenery. There was a small path that also winded around the pond and ventured into a beautiful, lush green forest. The rain pattered so beautifully onto the glass, creating beautiful shadows on the otherwise dim hallway. The house truly was magnificent.

Once reaching the end of the hallway, Y/n was greeted with two very tall and wide arched wooden doors. She hoped and prayed she wasn’t about to walk into a personal room, before pushing in to peek at the contents.

A large expanse of beautiful oak shelves befell her- filled to the brim with books. Books upon books upon books! Nestled so tenderly, they were wrapped in beautiful leather casings.

Bingo! The infamous library!

Though there was a main seating area in the middle of the room- with comfy juniper green couches that looked a dream to rest upon, there were also many bay windows and little reading nooks to curl up in. Tucked into the corner was a desk, a chair and a reading lamp. In fact, there were lamps all around the room, however, most of the light came from the warm roaring fire that blazed in the fireplace. Y/n could imagine sitting in front of the fire on a pillow, a soft throw around her and a mug of tea between her crossed legs as she read Dickens.

Y/n wove through each shelf, looking at all the amazing titles there were. There was everything here! Shakespeare and Dickens were classics, to be expected in most regal libraries, but looking closer, Y/n found Bronte and Austen too! Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, Hans Christen Anderson’s fairy tales. This place had every book Y/n had ever read or wished to read!

But something lingered in the back of Y/n’s mind…

If Ophelia cannot read, whose library is this? Who has so tenderly placed every book in alphabetical order, as well as sorted them by genre? Who has spent their time tediously gluing library cards to the inside of the back cover of seemingly every book, and has jotted down when they have been borrowed? Why would anyone ever do that, considering that most of them are read by assumedly the same person, judging by the ever so similar font and pen used to log the date of when the book was picked up and when it was finished?

Before she could finish her thought, the door suddenly opened. Y/n immediately cringed at the situation she was in- she could be caught snooping by Ophelia, oh how mortifying! As the heavy footsteps walked closer and closer to where she was, she weaved through shelves, attempting to find a spot to hide. She tiptoed through before flattening herself against a shelf at the end of the room, far from where the footsteps were heard. The unknown person’s gait was too heavy to be Ophelia’s and-

Damn!

If it was not Ophelia, there was only one other person it could be…

She took a deep, silent breath before creeping her way to the edge of the bookshelf. She went to take a peek and see where the British bastard was, however, when she took one more step and stuck her head out, she was met with his body no more than five inches from hers.

“AHH!”

“Shit!”

The pair jumped and shrieked for a quick second, not expecting the other to be so damn close. Y/n looked up to see Harry looked down at her with surprise and confusion. Her gaze panned down to his hands, noticing him carrying a brown leather bound book- it was smaller and very worn in. It looked beaten and bruised, like it had been read thousands of times. She couldn't see a title at all, but it wouldn’t matter- the moment he followed her eyes, Harry shoved the book behind his back. Her gaze snapped back up quickly enough to watch vulnerability flash in his eyes, before they set in his usual hardened gaze, infected with scorn.

He barked. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

This wasn’t nonchalant Harry- this wasn't a Harry that was prepared for her attacks. This wasn’t the Harry that used his suave and unaffected demeanour to torment Y/n as he coolly fired shot after shot at her soul. No, this was a more frantic Harry- a more aggressive, threatened Harry.

“I didn’t know you were going to be here!” Y/n explained, her brows furrowing and taking on a defensive tone, hands flying emphatically.

Harry did not reply at all. The pair stared at each other sharply. It was as if they were having a battle telepathically, staring deep into one another’s unwavering, unblinking eyes, lips pressed shut into little frowns, brows knit, each daring the other to say something more. To poke the bear more. To continue the fight. They stared and they stared until Harry looked her up and down, shaking his head and scoffing, before walking further into the library.

He seceded first! HA! She won!

This victory wasn't savoured for long, however- she soon realised how foolish she would look just standing there in Harry’s dust. She didn’t look back to see which way he went and she didn't care- she kicked her body into motion and strode out the front door. Once she was out, however, she pathetically scurried her way back to her room, mortified. Once through the door, she slammed it shut and laid back against the cool wood. She took a couple deep breaths in the safety of the guest room. Now alone, she was able to regain her ability to think.

Harry was holding a book in his hands, before shoving it behind his back? Was he… bashful? What book would have made Harry feel embarrassed?

Further, if it wasn’t Ophelia’s library, there realistically is only one other person it could belong to…

Y/n shook the idea from her head immediately. It definitely couldn’t be Harry’s- not only was he too brutish to read for leisure, but also, the books there were too beautiful, too tenderly cared for- many filled with little annotations. No, Harry could not treat a human decently, let alone a book. He wouldn’t know how! The one in his hand, however. Her heart just couldn’t let that go…

Maybe that was his? The small, beaten and bruised book. What kind of text would prompt Harry to read it over and over and over again. What words moved him so much that he felt embarrassed to show Y/n. Ofcourse, this was probably for the best- realistically, the pair should both provide as little information of their identities to each other as possible. Less ammunition that way.

But Y/n, head against the downy pillow filled to the brim with the softest stuffing, lulled by the gentle nose of the lavender oil spritzed on top of the sheets, could not help but innocently wonder if Harry had a favourite book. She always wanted someone to share her love of reading- a simple friend that she could rant and rave to other than her sisters who, despite not possessing the same fire and passion as Y/n when it came to literature, attempted their hardest to understand her speeches and monologues of theory.

It was not a question- Harry could never be that friend to Y/n…

But God, did Y/n wish that stopped her from imagining a version of him that could be.

#regency!harry #regency!harry x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic #harry styles enemies to lovers #regency!harry enemies to lovers #by bug

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human-allergy · 4 months

Text

Daily Lives of Jujutsu High Students

Time set in around 2006-2007. This story tells the daily lives and youthful troubles of four students from a certain year at Tokyo Jujutsu High.

Various x F. Reader!

Other chapters: 01

02 - Online Chatting Requires Caution

Although the curriculum at Tokyo Jujutsu High is different from other schools, it covers basic subjects such as Japanese, mathematics, science, and social studies to ensure students' comprehensive development. With the rapid development of information technology, the use of computers has also increased. In order to prevent students from becoming too disconnected from the non-sorcerer world, the school has recently added a new subject - Computer Class!

However, only a few students take this class seriously. Most students use computer class time to play games. Unfortunately, this has led to many students downloading pirated games from illegal websites, resulting in a large number of infected computers at the school. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to call the computer room a den of viruses.

"Darn it!" You mutter as you stare at the blue screen of the computer. "This one got infected too!"

"Forget about playing World of Warcraft," Gojo, sitting next to you, says. "I heard there's something popular these days that everyone is playing."

You turn your head and look at Gojo curiously. "What is it?"

"It's a random chat room," Gojo explains. "You can go in and have random video chats with people from other countries."

"Really? Let's give it a try then!"

Without hesitation, Gojo types a string of English letters into the search engine, and the computer quickly loads a website with a simple design. The website's name is written in large letters in the upper left corner, and there are two button options below it.

"You can choose to use text or video," Gojo says.

"It would be too embarrassing to start with video on the first try. Let's go with text," you say.

Gojo slides the mouse and clicks on the button labeled "TEXT."

With a click on the "TEXT" button, the page turns into a chat interface. There's a message box at the top with the words "Matching now..." displayed. Within a few seconds, a new pop-up message appears saying, "Start chatting!"

Excitedly, you pat Gojo on the shoulder and exclaim, "Oh, we've got a match!"

Gojo, with a disdainful snort, says, "You're getting excited so easily. You really are an inexperienced bumpkin."

Ignoring Gojo's sarcasm, you focus your attention on the computer screen. Another message pops up in the chat interface, displaying the username of the matched person.

Florida Man:Hi

"Oi, oi!" You point at the chat box, looking at Gojo in panic. "He said hi! What should we do?!"

"Calm yourself, Just reply to him!" Gojo says dismissively.

"Um, then..."

You type a sentence on the keyboard, a versatile English phrase that you've been using from elementary school to now, guaranteed to be appropriate in any situation:

You: Hello, nice to meet you and you^_^?

The system immediately displays the message, "The other person has left the chat room."

"Damn, are you a grade schooler?!" Gojo curses.

"Well, how else should I respond?!" you retort, displeased.

"Let me handle it. You're still too inexperienced."

With that, Gojo starts a new match with another chat partner.

You: Hi^_^!

The dark urge: Hello~

The dark urge: mf?

As you and Gojo look at the newly popped-up chat box, both of you have a puzzled expression on your faces.

"What does 'mf' mean?" Gojo asks.

You ponder for a moment, then suddenly have an epiphany. "I know! It's probably short for 'male or female.'"

"Oh! You're quite smart!" Gojo compliments.

You run your hand through your hair and raise your nose, saying, "Duh."

Then you start typing on the keyboard again.

You: f

The dark urge: m34 horny?

"'Horny'? What does that mean?" This time it's your turn to ask.

"Hold on, let me get someone who's good at English." As soon as Gojo finishes speaking, he pulls Geto, who was sitting in the front row, engrossed in watching a pirated version of "Naruto," to the back of the classroom.

"What idiotic thing are you two up to again?" Geto says, while being pushed by Gojo towards the computer.

"Suguru, can you help us translate this message into Japanese?" you point at the English message that both you and Gojo couldn't understand.

"You guys are really troublesome," even though Geto complains, he still looks at the text in the chat box. "Oh, this means—'Do you want to get naughty?'"

Just as Geto finishes speaking, the chat room immediately receives a barrage of messages all at once.

The dark urge: I wanna f___ u so damn hard kitten

The dark urge: i wanna lick u so hard that you start peeing uncontrollably babygurl

The dark urge:*babygirl

The dark urge: let me see ur p___

"Wait, what is he saying?" You feel a sense of shock as the messages keep coming in.

The dark urge: wanna s___ my hard disco stick?

The dark urge: horny?

"Oi! Is this person insane?" Gojo also appears astonished.

However, Geto remains unfazed and calmly translates every word and phrase from the stranger's messages into Japanese. "He's saying he wants to f___ you hard, then wants to lick you until you start losing control, and he wants to see your ___, and then asks you to look at his ___."

"So disgusting, so disgusting, so disgusting!" You cross your arms in front of your chest, feeling as if you've been sexually harassed by the online user. Goosebumps immediately form on your arms, and your mind feels like it's being bitten and itchy, as if by countless ants.

Gojo keeps clicking the refresh and match buttons while frowning, saying, "Next one, next one!"

Geto simply shrugged, seemingly unfazed. "You should expect to encounter weirdos like this when you play these chat matching games."

"That's not an excuse for harassing others online!" you replied without hesitation.

The next few matches were almost all starting with the phrase "Horny?" In fact, as soon as you told them you were male, they would immediately leave the chat room. It felt like a complete adult chat room, as if all the horny foreigners had gathered in one place.

After two days of browsing this website with Gojo, you both learned a lot of English words and phrases that kids your age shouldn't be learning. Your English vocabulary skyrocketed.

"Yo, yo, check it out! Satoru, wanna s___ my d___? Mine d___ is huge!" you imitated the tone of an American hip-hop artist on TV.

"Ayo, Y/n, you wanna [censored] with me? Just [censored] my [censored]," Gojo responded in the same tone.

Listening to your conversation, Geto sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Are these two the future pillars of the Jujutsu world? I'm starting to worry about the future of Jujutsu world."

"Maybe it would be better for me to go to medical school?" Ieiri muttered, unusually serious. "If the Jujutsu world collapses, I can still become a doctor."

Nanami frowned as he listened to your and Gojo's nonsense. "What on earth have these two gotten into?"

As soon as you saw your junior, Nanami, you smiled and reached out your hand to him. "Nanamin! Let's have [censored] with us!"

Gojo also took off his sunglasses, revealing his blue eyes that resembled the clear sky and white clouds. He extended an inviting gesture towards Nanami and said in a slightly exaggerated accent, "Yesu, yesu, Nanami, let us [censored] your [censored]!"

For the next week, Nanami would immediately have a dark expression and run away whenever he saw you and Gojo.

After realizing that chatting about explicit content in the chat room was boring, you and Gojo came up with a new game.

"Hey, how about we wait for a chat and directly give them our English assignments?" you suggested.

"That's a good idea!" Gojo clapped his hands. "So, you do have a brain hidden under that skull of yours."

"Shut up, or I'll cut off your [Censored]." you threatened.

You thought Gojo would be scared after hearing your words, as that area is of great importance to men, almost as much as their life. However, Gojo not only wasn't scared, but he even blushed and said shyly, "Oh, if you want to see it, just say it directly, no need to be so subtle."

Your mind couldn't come up with any other words. You really weren't good at dealing with Gojo.

Instead of wasting precious time in computer class playing around with Gojo, you quickly posted the English assignment question in the chat room.

John: m 22

You: Which of the following is the correct definition of the word "ephemeral"?

A) Long-lasting

B) Temporary

C) Permanent

D) Reliable

John: B

Impressed by the swift response from the user named John, you exclaimed, "This foreigner's English is really impressive!"

"Idiot, what did you expect? He's a foreigner, of course his English is good," Gojo said.

"So let's quickly give few more questions to him!" you exclaimed excitedly, holding your English assignment in your hand.

As a result, the two of you used the chat room as a tool for completing your assignments, and the foreigner on the other side genuinely explained the questions in English.

"What should we do? He seems like a smart and handsome guy," you daydreamed, imagining a man with a handsome face, flowing golden hair, and a smooth British accent.

"Get real, Y/n," Geto's cold voice mercilessly shattered your imaginary image of the handsome man. "How could someone like that play in a random chat room?"

"No, you're totally wrong, Suguru," you immediately retorted. "Even a beauty like me is playing in this kind of random chat room."

Geto and Gojo looked at you with disdainful expressions.

"You are too full of yourself." Gojo said.

Just as you were about to say something, a new message appeared in the chat room.

John: So that's all?

You: Yeah! Thanks ;-)

John: It's not a big deal.

John: Cam?

"Cam?" Gojo paused for a moment. "Does that mean video chat?"

"Quick! I want to see what that person looks like!" you eagerly said.

"But...is it okay to—"

You interrupted Gojo's words and impatiently shouted, "Let me see my future husband already!"

Reluctantly, Gojo opened the video chat, but what appeared on the screen was the other person's genitals, and they were in an erect state.

"There you go!" Gojo frowned, pointing at the bright red and erect disco stick. "I told you, these people are abnormal! They're nothing but sex-starved beasts!"

You silently stared at the computer screen and after a while, said with a serious expression, "Seems pretty big."

"It is indeed quite big, estimated to be around 8 inches. The first time must be painful," Ieiri commented, appearing out of nowhere.

Gojo snorted disdainfully. "But it's still far inferior to mine."

"Really?" You remained skeptical and to confirm whether Gojo was really as impressive as he claimed, you looked at Geto and asked, "Suguru, is what he said true?"

Geto's face twitched. "Why are you asking me?"

"Because you and Satoru are close male friends. Don't guys usually compare each other's [censored]?" you asked, tilting your head.

"That's absolutely not true!" Geto shouted in frustration. "And where the hell did you hear about such things anyway?"

"Oi, you brats."

At that moment, a voice that didn't belong to any of the four of you spoke up.

You and the others mechanically turned your heads to see Yaga Masamichi, your homeroom teacher, standing behind you four, glaring at you four with anger.

"The computer teacher reported to me that you're often not paying attention in class, so I came to see what's going on. Turns out, you're all using the computers for these kinds of websites during class! Each of you will write a reflective essay of no less than a thousand words for me. It must be submitted by Friday, and if it's late, you'll have to add five hundred words! Understand?"

Under the absolute authority of your homeroom teacher, you four dared not rebel and could only nod obediently.

From that day on, you were haunted by the shadow of these chatting rooms. Whether it was the reflective essays that Yaga-sensei relentlessly returned or John's massive cannon, every time you thought about it, you felt like peeing yourself.

※※※

Epilogue:

Many years later, even though you had long graduated from Jujutsu High, and many of your friends had already carried away by the flowing river of time over the past decade, you, the old classmates, still kept in touch and occasionally gathered for meals.

Tonight, you all met at an izakaya as usual. The attendees included you, Gojo, Ieiri, Nanami, Ijichi, and Utahime and Mei Mei, who were several years ahead of you.

Since Gojo didn't like to drink and Ijichi had to drive, only you, Ieiri, Nanami, Utahime, and Mei Mei ordered alcohol, while the other two opted for non-alcoholic beverages.

You looked at the melon soda, french fries, and fried chicken in front of Gojo and couldn't help but mock, "Satoru, this won't do. What if your future father-in-law is a heavy drinker? You'll have to drink then, right? Practice your tolerance now and finish this bottle of vodka in one gulp!"

You raised the transparent glass bottle in your hand and placed it in front of Gojo, who then returned the bottle to you. "Instead of worrying about my future father-in-law, why don't you worry about yourself first?" he said. "Isn't your mom pressuring you? Miss still single at 27 years old."

As soon as this topic came up, you let out a groan and covered your head with both hands. "Ah, please don't mention it anymore! My mom recently forced me into a blind date!" Then you released your hands and looked at Nanami, who was sipping whiskey, with a serious expression. "Nanamin, why don't we get married?"

"No, thank you," Nanami refused without hesitation.

Laughter immediately erupted from the table, with Gojo being the loudest of them all.

"Of course, Nanami mercilessly rejecting you again!" Gojo exclaimed loudly, as if afraid others wouldn't hear.

"You're not doing much better than me either! Isn't your mom pressuring you to get married? Saying it's time to continue the Gojo lineage and produce another Six Eyes successor. I heard all of this from my mom," you glared angrily at Gojo, then turned to Utahime sitting next to you and deliberately spoke in a dejected tone, "Forget about Satoru, but why are you laughing too, Utahime?"

Utahime wiped away a tear from the corner of her eye and chuckled, saying, "Sorry, sorry. No matter how many times I hear it, it's still funny."

"Sigh, go ahead and laugh. You won't be laughing when I marry some old, greasy geezer," you said.

"You don't have to be so despairing, Y/n," Mei Mei said. "Marrying an old geezer has its benefits. After all, the old geezer will die soon, and then you'll inherit his fortune."

"I think the same," Ieiri, who had already finished a large glass of beer, nodded.

"But I want someone who's handsome, whose parents died early, and who has a family fortune," you said.

Gojo laughed again. "Aren't you describing Batman?"

"Haha, very funny," you replied sarcastically.

"Let me tell you guys," Utahime said, "I actually met a cute guy on a dating app recently."

"Huh? A dating app? Isn't that for sex or something?"

Upon hearing your blunt remark, Nanami and Ijichi, who were drinking at the time, both choked and coughed several times.

"But I still prefer getting to know people proactively," you said with a smile. "The connection between people is still more important, hahaha!"

"Y/n is right," Gojo crossed his arms and nodded. "I also prefer genuine connections, ahahaha!"

That night, as soon as you returned home, you immediately registered an account on the dating app and matched with a guy. You started chatting.

You: Hi there, I'm from Tokyo 😊😊

Infinity: Hi👋🏻 I'm also in Tokyo, what a coincidence~

You: Really? What are your interests?

Infinity: I like reading books in my free time, and I also play the violin when I have the chance.

You: Violin? That's impressive~ 🤭

You: So, what do you like to eat?

Infinity: I have a sweet tooth, I drink my bubble tea with full sugar, and I put eight cubes of sugar in my coffee. I'm also the Japan's second-best fan of buttered potatoes. I don't smoke or drink. I sleep at 11 p.m. and make sure to get less than 8 hours of sleep every day. Before bed, I always have a glass of warm milk and do 20 minutes of stretching. Once I get into bed, I immediately suffer from insomnia. I stay up all night until morning, but I never carry fatigue and stress into the next day. Doctors say I'm perfectly normal.

You: Wait a minute.

You: Horny?

Infinity: GOD DAMN

These are the conversations you and Gojo had with strangers on that chat website during your computer class:

#anime #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #shoko x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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astrum-aetherium · 10 months

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What do you think Henry whispered in Camilla's ear at the end? It's a moment that really stuck with me somehow and I love hearing theories about it

what can possibly be more personal, more ponderous and intimate than i love you?

i'm sure this is something everyone who has read TSH has previously wondered about. i know i have. what i also know is that the most common theory is "live forever", and yes — it would make sense, given that henry is undeniably a devoted little teacher's pet to julian, but it does seem a little melodramatic to me (specifically because julian did abandon them all in the end as well, lol). henry going out with a bang (literally) wouldn't be defined by something as simple as that, however much meaning is attached to it in theory. besides, we've all heard that theory a million times over. i'll offer a new one.

he's goddamn pretentious. to the bone. he refused to take his SATs and thereby consciously denied himself the opportunity to attend any prestigious schools (which he would've certainly gotten into and dominated) for singularly aesthetic reasons. you simply can't get more pretentious than that. i always say that he's too intelligent for his own good — to the point it no longer benefits him at times. just too smart to possess any ability to reflect on himself. almost amusing in that way.

therefore, i believe it was something along the lines of a riddle — something that would keep camilla puzzling over it for a long time succeeding his death. and yes, you can say that his suicide was an impulsive decision and all that, but he had been (even verbally) entertaining suicidal ideology way before he actually went through with it. plus, he just seems like someone who would have something like that — his last words — memorized and ready to go at all times, specifically at a time as dangerous as toying with the possibility of being detained and thrown in jail for murder. just a thought.

i'm almost 100% sure it was also in any language other than english, according to his customs. i've already elaborated on how pretentious he is. he wouldn't make it easy for anyone to figure him out that quickly, not even camilla. the i love you was just a premise, nearly nothing compared to the whisper. and if it's not english, then it must be one of the languages that he does know. assuming that it's either latin or ancient greek, he would go out of his merry way to make it as complex and hardly translatable as he can. he would apply the most archaic of archaic versions of those languages, even with one simple phrase. as i said, he would've planned it out beforehand deliberately. it makes perfect sense.

what it would be, however, is a whole other conversation of its own. maybe that very "i love you" or previously mentioned "live forever", just in a different language. that is the simplest answer i can offer. i like to dig deeper when it comes to mysteries such as this one, though, so i've been gathering my thoughts all day today in order to predominantly satisfy myself with an obnoxiously pretentious answer. how about: "to the stars" (kitsch but fitting, obviously convoluted, and in a different language) or a translated version of "ashes to ashes, dust to dust" — just to deride religion and tradition one last time. or, perhaps, "permanence". something that perpetuates his convicted disbelief in vanitas. "never gone"; "the conclusion". and i know, all of these sound dumb as hell in english, but do remember — they would be uttered in a different language, and in a complex way, too. to be mulled over; wondered about for a long time, even as a scholar.

someone needs to hook me up with ms tartt's phone number so we can settle this once and for all, lol. but then again, i don't want to know. i don't want a simple answer to such a mystifying, ponderous question. i'm fine with eternally musing over it — it certainly keeps me entertained.

#astrum asks #henry winter #the secret history #donna tartt #camilla macaulay #tsh #tsh theory #live forever is a very good guess but it's simple #and i don't like simple answers to complex questions #especially when it comes to theorizing about books #i have an english major mind through and through

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vampzxi · 1 year

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𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭!𝘳𝘪𝘳𝘪 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴

hi guys i finally finished the riri hcs...dont jump me idk why they took so long. if you have any other hcs PLEASE tell me i literally love riri so much it's probably unhealthy at this point. check out my highschool!shuri headcanons here! :)

taglist!: @vixentheplanet @abenomeiiii @inmyheadimobsessed @zayswriting @pinkwright @ccharrrr @letitias-fav @shuriszn @generallysapphic @iotusroses @marsolgy @ihearttish (ask to be added or fill out this form. i'm so forgetful i'm sorry!)

academic

・❥・top of her class, dur 🤦🏽 (her and shuri are a year apart, riri being a junior)

・❥・homework side hustle (she’s a very expensive woman)

・❥・prefers math over any other subject, cannot stand english

・❥・despite not liking english, she has a very creative mind and all her english teachers love her

・❥・very quiet in class, minds her business for the most part

・❥・frequently spends all-nighters on her homework simply because she got too distracted (chronic procrastinator)

・❥・undiagnosed adhd

・❥・fidgeter. will bounce her leg, tap her nails on the desk, mess with her jewelry, cannot stay still in her seat

・❥・neat handwriting because her mom and step-dad taught her how to write nicely from a young age

・❥・terrible test anxiety

・❥・slick mouth often gets her into a lot of arguments with teachers.. (she made a teacher retire early once)

・❥・spends most of her time in her welding/metallurgy class, before and after school. if she's not there then she's at the garage

・❥・was forced into the debate club because her teacher told her to "channel her argumentative energy elsewhere" but she ended up loving it and wins most of her meets

social

・❥・despite keeping to herself, virtually everyone is cool with her

・❥・skips class with shuri sometimes

・❥・naturally flirty personality

・❥・gets dragged to parties by shuri but ends up having more fun than she does

・❥・picky eater

・❥・dancer. you cannot pull her off the dance floor

・❥・cannot speak xhosa to save her life...shuri makes fun of her a lot

・❥・gets angry easily, so she's been in her fair share of fights. she has yet to lose one

・❥・basketball player, her step dad taught her how to hoop

・❥・smokes 🍃 occasionally

・❥・favorite anime is soul eater

・❥・guilty pleasure: musicals. and shuri is the only one who knows this because she walked in on her singing "In The Heights". (she made shuri swear to secrecy)

・❥・loves skating

・❥・she switches up her style often, most times you'll just see her in a shirt and sweats. but she doesn't mind putting on a cute skirt or dress every now and then

romantic

・❥・if you like her, good luck. there's a line a mile long.

・❥・very cocky, she knows shes the shit.

・❥・drooler and snorer.

・❥・her love languages are words of affirmation and quality time, so she always has to let you know how good you look, or how smart you are, or how much she enjoys being around you. your date nights mostly consist of cuddling under each other and watching movies

・❥・drags you to the skating rink at least once a week

・❥・posts you all over her social medias. like constantly. when you ask her why she usually responds with something along the lines of, "i just want the world to see how fine you are."

・❥・wild sleeper, she usually ends up kicking you off the bed

・❥・she plays with your hair a lot

・❥・loves lego sets and puzzles and begs you to do them with her and shuri (you always say yes)

・❥・loves PDA, will literally kiss you anywhere, any time

・❥・rambles about you to shuri constantly

・❥・always bringing you something she made for you in her metallurgy class. you appreciate them but you're running out of room because of the amount she gives you

・❥・since she's in the garage most of the time, you end up having to drag her out

・❥・very oblivious with signals, if you try to drop hints she will not pick them up

・❥・scratcher.

・❥・debates everything, resulting in a few arguments. but she always ends up apologizing in the end. in certain ways 🤭

・❥・very possessive. she intentionally leaves hickeys on you. you don't mind though

thanks again for reading! yes i wrote this because im procrastinating on the shuri fic...mind your business. leave your headcanons guys :3

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thehiddenbaroness · 3 months

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15 People, 15 Questions

I was tagged by @plumcoloredblazer -- sorry it took me a hot minute to get to it! I appreciate it. <3

1. Are you named after anyone?

I've long disliked that none of my names are 'mine', in that both my first and middle names are from other people -- my first is my maternal grandfather's middle name (which he also sorta went by), while my middle name is my mother's middle name (which she went by when we moved to the UK).

2. When was the last time you cried?

I had a few frustrated tears over the weekend, but it's rare nowadays that I actually cry-cry.

3. Do you have kids?

I do not, unless you count the two fur-babies. No intention to.

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

I played field (read: astroturf) hockey for a few years in middle school; before that, I was a dancer (yes I count dance as a sport). Lately I'm not really a sporty type but I am getting more active.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Moi?

6. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Usually what comes out of their mouth, but also how they carry themselves -- do they look interested in where they are? Are they engaged with what's at hand? Do they have good posture? Are they trying to shrink into themselves? Are they oblivious to being in someone's way? Are they close to the gap?

7. What’s your eye color?

Dark brown.

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

Err...I hesitate to say neither, because while I don't like scary movies and don't *dislike* a happy ending, movies with ambiguous/bittersweet or even tragic endings are typically the ones I've enjoyed more.

9. Any talents?

Writing, I'd like to think. I'm organized and efficient. I have a deep well of empathy and understanding and feel like I'm good at helping folks wrestle with life's troubles. I'm a spice sorceress.

10. Where were you born?

Baton Rouge, Louisiana.

11. What are your hobbies?

Writing (who knew?), history (especially art and natural, and archeology), reading, word games, languages, organizing and decorating, gaming somewhat, jigsaw puzzles, travel.

12. Do you have any pets?

We have two! Molly, our sensitive and loving Shepinois (German Shepherd and Belgian Malinois mix), and Penny, our eccentric and brave gray/peach dilute calico shorthair.

13. How tall are you?

A delightfully average 5'4; as my mother used to say, at least I don't have to bend down as far if I drop something.

14. Favorite subject in school?

I actually had a love/hate relationship with English since it was the one I was most invested in, but I liked it the most because I did the best in it.

15. Dream job?

Taking this to mean more of an occupation than a *job* -- since I think if something is a job it's not especially enjoyable or rewarding -- the answer is perhaps obvious: a published fiction author. But really, I want to be occupied with my writing, tending our dream house in the woods, making my own salves and tinctures, reading, entertaining close friends with the finer things. I'd like to be occupied with love in its different forms, and for my time to be largely my own.

===

No pressure, those of you who I'm tagging! Just something to perhaps fill an idle few minutes. @ohtobealady, @in-a-storm-glass, @dahliasgloom, @malglories, @webedragons, @oftwodarkmoons, @lastoftheptolemies, @daughter-rhaenyra, @karrova, @ofallingstar, @marrogerson, @naryamirie, @aryasnow, @modernamericangirl, @saffron-mantled-dawn

#scrapsofbiography #tag game

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another-clive-blog · 5 months

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Alright you know what I can't stop thinking about that last ask, so I'm just going to share my favorite French UF funfacts and then call it a night lol. They aren't like crazy stuff but I like them (or not, but that's kind of the point snfdfjn) <3 I must first say that French Unwound Future is REALLY close to the English version. Names are identical (The only name change I know of is the blonde guy from Pandora's Box I think, because I haven't seen anyone here call him Vlad) and so are plot points : the only thing really different is the dialogs !!

SO !!!! Small list of my favorite (or not.) changes in the French version !!

Layton :

NO ONE agrees on how to pronounce his name :') Typically in French it would be "Léton" (English = Laytonne), but since le Destin Perdu is very influenced by English… Oof lol. Team Laytonne = Layton, Don Paolo; Team Létonne = Luke, Clive, Dimitri. FIGHT

On a very related note, French version kept "gentleman" :o Although gentleman can be used in French, the word "gentilhomme" also exists. I think this is because gentleman refers more to a way of life but that could be me. Anyway NONE of them knows how to pronounce it 😭😭 "Geantleumanne"/"geanteulmanne" kbejvyd

"Puzzles" become "énigmes" (riddles). Cela me rappelle une énigme…

Layton and Don Paolo share the same voice actor, voice acting veteran Martial le Minoux. I love his work honestly, nothing more to say except that he is a perfect fit. 10/10

Luke !

He is SO weirdly rude in French- like he is insulting people but with formal old school words ?? "You're a real piece of work" becomes "Vous n'êtes qu'un vaurien" (You're a scoundrel/good for nothing). At the casino instead of saying "We gave them a taste of their own medicine" he goes "Quelle bande de poltrons" (What a group of cowards, but like coward said by a 1940s grandpa lol). Why so much hatred in your heart boy-

He has the less dialog changes so there isn't much else to say :/

He and Flora share a voice ! It suits Luke very well (energetic and passionate), although I think the English one is better. 8/10

Flora :

She sounds less confident in French :( More "frail Victorian orphan who has every disease", which may sound fun but. Yeah. 7/10

She does roast people like a queen 👌 "That was quite ill-mannered of him. Still that was an awful thing he did, right Professor ?" becomes "Quelle brute mal élevée ! Mais ce qu'il a fait est vraiment affreux. Je mérite des excuses, non, Professeur ?" (What a rude bully ! Still what he did was really terrible. I deserve an apology, don't I Professor ?) Like she KNOWS he's in the wrong and she is getting that apology kdjvdkx

Also works with getting left behind !!! "What am I supposed to do ? Sit here like a lemon and wait ?" -> "Qu'est-ce-que je suis censée faire quand vous m'abandonnez ? Compter les mouches ? Comme c'est amusant. Et quand je dis amusant, je veux dire pas amusant du tout !" (What am I supposed to do when you leave me behind ? Count flies ? How fun ! And by fun, I mean no fun at all !)

Why is everyone so fed up in French lol

Clive : (Sorry I KNOW he is the longest but also this is a Clive blog. Don't be surprised about me obsessing over his dialogs lol)

French version doesn't call him "Future Luke" but "Adult Luke", which is very funny because you know they felt the need to tell people "This guy isn't a 16 YO" njekfzb

He has the most changes in dialog, and some of these changes are freaking brutal lol

For example, he doesn't say "Please, make yourselves comfortable. Sit back and relax. After all, you won't be leaving any time soon". (You don't like that but you can't stop me). Instead, he says "Allons, mettez-vous donc à l'aise. Ouvrez grand les yeux. Après tout, le spectacle promet d'être grandiose." (Please, make yourselves comfortable. Keep your eyes wide open. After all, the spectacle is sure to be a grand one) French Clive is a goner, that guy is Robespierre or something

"Though some may call it revenge, I prefer to think of it as justice" -> "Certains parleraient de vengeance, mais il s'agit en réalité de justice" (Some may call it revenge, but it really is justice). Denial is a river in Egypt 👍

It works both ways tho !! Like he doesn't say "I- I see" after Claire tells him that scientists were to blame too. He goes "Je- merci" (I- thank you). My heart is broken

His acting is… not that good. I think this was like, the second role his VA has ever had, and it shows. Overdoing it A LOT. Positive point is that I really like his voice, even though his acting lacks experience. 5/10 would be interested to hear him redo it

There is ONE exception to that tho, and it's the defeat scene- if you had to watch one French Clive scene absolutely go for this one. Overdoing it kind of works in that scene + there is my FAVORITE dialog change. "It can't end that way- it won't end that way" becomes "Je ne peux pas échouer- je ne dois pas échouer" (I cannot fail- I must not fail). Chef's kiss 1000/10 and most definitely the reason why I have a weird obsession with modals in my writing lol

Uuuuh this is getting quite long so I won't put the others. Maybe next time, if there is a next time (I am an undecisive unhelpful person <3). For now I should go to sleep it is 3 in the morning lol

#I love love love listening to media in other languages and comparing the small differences <3 #Like I said there isn't much difference... But it's still fun ahah #Anyway #Hershel Layton #Luke Triton #Flora Reinhold #Clive Dove #Professeur Layton #Professeur Layton et le destin perdu #my stuff #My analysis #<- I guess ???

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twig-tea · 4 months

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15 people, 15 questions

Tagged by @my-rose-tinted-glasses, @infinitelyprecious and @he-is-lightning-in-a-bottle! Thank you friends 💕

1. are you named after anyone?

Nope! My folks just liked the name they chose for me. They did the thing where they tried to choose a name that they thought would be unique and ended up with one of the most common names in the year, for both me and my brother.

2. when was the last time you cried?

Watching the What Did You Eat Yesterday S2 finale.

3. do you have kids?

Nope! Never wanted any, so I'm happy with the status quo.

4. what sports do you play/have you played?

HA. Here we go. In elementary school I was on a neighbourhood softball team and was terrible; in the end of year tournament, we were two outs and I was at bat and struck out for us to lose, which soured me on this game permanently. I also took neighbourhood tennis lessons and sucked at that too though I really did try. In middle school I was on the basketball team because I was tall and the coach was convinced I could learn hand/eye coordination....she was wrong. I am a decent defense player because height lets me block but I cannot land a foul shot to save my life (or my team's). For fun during lunch l I played [American] football with other enthusiasts. We would play tackle in all weather and on pavement, and we had a great time (I wasn't good but I enjoyed it). By high school I had finally convinced everyone around me I have no hand/eye coordination or physical skill and stopped all sports activities. PHEW. These days I do no sports though I will go to my company slo-pitch games and heckle like heckling's a sport.

5. do you use sarcasm?

Absolutely, but I try not to use it in that mean way in which people try to make someone feel bad about themselves.

6. what’s the first thing you notice about people?

Body language, how they hold themselves and move.

7. what’s your eye color?

Close to slate grey/blue.

8. scary movies or happy endings?

I don't respect this false dichotomy.

9. any talents?

My superpower is the ability to sing along to any song whether or not I've heard it before, and whether or not I know the language. Other than that, I'm pretty good at understanding what people are trying to say and not just what they actually said, which comes in handy in show analysis as well as interpersonal communication and work. And I am good at modifying/adapting recipes to use what I've got/what I like on the fly. Those are my core talents!

10. where were you born?

Toronto, Canada

11. what are your hobbies?

Other than watching All The BL/GL/QL? I am crafty, I like playing with mixed media stuff, lap weaving, and bookmaking/bookbinding. I haven't had the energy for it the last few years, and that's been mildly devastating. But I made holiday cards for the first time in years this year, which was very fun! I also have been known to puzzle, and I garden when I can. And I hike on occasion!

12. do you have any pets?

Nope! I'm allergic to most pets (fur and feathers; I tried keeping fish but was allergic to the algae on the tank, so I gave up). The dog in my avatar is my parents' rescue dog they got after I left home, and I see her when I visit them! She's a "hypoallergenic" breed mix but that's actually meaningless and I'm still allergic lol

13. how tall are you?

180cm; and the kicker is I've been this tall since elementary school so I went from being the tallest person in the room by a LOT to half the boys in the room shooting up to my height or higher, which was a weird experience!

14. favorite subject in school?

Tie between English, Biology, and Chemistry. I loved science and words and analysis in both subjects. I ran the bio and chem clubs in high school!

15. dream job?

University textbook editor, which I did for ~7 years! And it was everything I wanted it to be, but I eventually outgrew it. I love what I do now too (essentially I'm in management), and I know I'm lucky that I've had jobs I love for most of my working life.

I won't tag anyone because I've been absent for days, but if you see this, this is permission to do this tag game, and tag me so I see your post 💕

#tag game

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aylacavebear · 1 month

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The Traveler - Chapter 3 - Earth 1997 PT 2

You're from a specific dimension, Solaris Eclipse. It was a dimension of magic. When your kind, the Eldrathiren, turned fifteen, your unique power would awaken within you. Most times, it was something small, levitation, teleportation, creation, elemental manipulation, and things like that. Once in a while, a fifteen-year-old would just disappear, and those were called Travelers. None of them had ever returned. Your parents had told you stories about them, and you hoped that wouldn't happen to you.

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will probably be 18+ I haven't decided yet!

Word Count: 3590

Pairing Eventually Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You & Sam Winchester x OC Reader/You

Warnings: Angst, Scary Situation, Some Fluff.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 3 - Earth, 1997 Pt. 2

After the brothers left, you changed back into your original clothes, feeling better now that your tail was free again. It was strange, though, when you took off Dean’s shirt. You picked it back up and sniffed it, noticing a part of the scent that had lured you out of your village. Sadly, you still couldn’t place the exact scent.

You watched the TV again while waiting for Dean to return. The things on it were fascinating and confusing, depending on what came on or what channel you were on. You also realized that in order for you to even go out anywhere, you’d have to hide your ears and tail and not smile too much at anyone so they didn’t see your canines.

Throughout the day, you and Dean talked, about a lot. Luckily, you’d caught on to English, which made communicating easier. He’d brought back something called donuts, and you found them utterly delicious. Dean even chuckled, watching you eat several different kinds. You weren’t big on the thing called coffee, though. It was bitter, at least compared to the donuts.

That afternoon, after lunch, which had been something called a bacon cheeseburger and french fries, he left to retrieve Sammy from school. The food in this world, at least what you had tasted so far, was delicious. Dean had explained the things they hunted. He also explained how people in this world were. Unfortunately, he had to be blunt with you, explaining that because of how you looked, the whole cat ears, tail, and canines, people here would freak out, and some would want to hunt you.

You really wanted to see more of this world and experience the outside, and while Dean was gone, you began thinking of how you could do that without scaring people. Dean had made it clear that he had no clue how to help you get back to your dimension. This dimension did have magic, but it was different. Here, witches did magic, and so far, the brothers didn’t know a nice one that might help. Witches were usually something they hunted.

When the motel room door opened, only Sammy came inside, which puzzled you, “Where is Dean?”

“Oh, he’s at the library. He didn’t want to leave you here alone,” Sammy replied, setting his backpack down.

You plopped down on the bed, sighing through your nose, “What is school like?” you asked, fairly curious.

He laughed before sitting on the opposite bed, facing you, “It’s school. Adults teach you things. You take boring tests. Kids bully other kids. Uh, they’re mean to other kids. That’s what a bully is,” he began explaining when you tilted your head slightly.

“Why are people mean to other people?” you asked, not fully understanding the concept. It wasn’t like that where you were from.

Sammy shrugged, “Some people are just mean. Dean said he hadn’t found a way to help you get home yet but that you liked all the food he brought you.”

You figured he wanted to change the topic off of school, so you went along with it. You also didn’t realize that asking a thirteen-year-old wasn’t the best way to discover why people were mean to others. “I am not sure there is a way for me to get home. A Traveler has never returned home before,” you replied, a little quieter than before, trying not to feel sad at the thought of never seeing your family again.

“You can stay with us. We can be your new family,” Sammy told you quite happily, making you chuckle a little. He was rather adorable.

“I do not know how long it will be, before I end up somewhere else,” you replied, somewhat quietly, realizing that you were actually going to miss both the brothers.

“Well then, we’ll have to have some fun while you’re here,” he said, trying to lighten both your moods.

Sammy began explaining a game called Go Fish as he pulled out what he explained was a deck of cards. It seemed like a simple game to match certain cards by asking the other player if they had a specific card. He showed you an example, and you found him adorable during his explanation. Then, the two of you played a practice game. He wanted you to understand it before he “got serious” about playing.

The first round was simple enough, and you caught on faster than Sammy thought you would. He had you laughing, you had him laughing, and the rounds were tied so far. Before he could deal the next round, Dean returned to the motel, looking somewhat discouraged.

“Hey, Dean, you want to play too?” Sammy asked, smiling as he looked over at him.

“It’s dinner time,” he replied, and you tilted your head a bit as the aroma of bacon cheeseburgers filled the motel room, making you smile.

“It is okay, Sammy, we can always play tomorrow if I am still here,” you tried to reassure him, “Plus, it was fun.”

Dean began unpacking the food he’d brought onto the table as you went over to try to help, but he didn’t let you, “You’re a guest. Just get comfy, Sweetheart,” he told you with that cute smirk that made you smile.

So, that was what you did. You went and got comfortable on the bed you’d slept in the night before, sitting cross-legged and attempting to wait patiently. Sammy went and sat at the table while Dean brought you yours and sat on the opposite bed.

While the three of you ate, he explained that he hadn’t been able to find anything about how to open a portal to another dimension. He also explained that libraries were limited on information, so that didn’t mean that there wasn’t a way, he just hadn’t found it yet.

Over the next three days, you stayed at the motel room with the brothers. Dean had even washed your original clothes for you. The whole washing machine and dryer was fascinating to you. You had barely managed to keep yourself from going out and exploring, although, you had watched things from the motel window. You had also had to borrow one of their knives to keep your claws trimmed, as they grew at a much faster rate than the brothers’ nails. Sammy had found that utterly fascinating.

The shower experience was different but quite enjoyable for you. It wasn’t like at home. If you wanted water to flow over you, you had to go to the waterfall. At home, you would sit on a small stool, wash up, rinse off, then soak in the warmed bath.

Dean had even gone as far as getting you a pair of jeans that you could customize so they weren’t uncomfortable for your tail, and you could leave it out. He’d also gotten you what was called a tank top, which was fairly comfortable. Then he had gotten you something to sleep in that you could do the same with, along with a bag like his and his brothers to keep your belongings in.

You’d fallen asleep fairly quickly on the fourth night, but the brothers had stayed awake.

“What happens if Dad comes back and sees her? He’s gonna freak out,” Sammy whispered, worried.

Dean groaned quietly, rubbing his face with his hand, then glanced at you as you slept, “I know. I’m gonna have to call him if she’s still here tomorrow. He’s been gone for almost a month now. He’ll probably be back any day.”

Sammy looked over at you as well, “How do we convince Dad that she’s not a monster?” he asked sadly.

“I’ll figure it out,” Dean told him.

The two hit the sack not too long after. Sleep found Sammy quickly, but Dean was kept awake with his thoughts, knowing this would not be easy.

Dean’s POV

Dean woke with a start just after five the following morning. Then, he jumped out of bed and grabbed his jacket before going outside. “Dad, there’s something I need to tell you before you go in there,” he said quickly, now standing near the driver’s side door.

“Dean, I’m tired. I just want to relax for a minute before we head out,” John told him.

Dean took a deep breath. There were a lot of scenarios that had played out in his mind as to how this was going to go, and none of them were looking good, “Dad, please.”

“Damnit Dean. Fine. What?” he snapped, and Dean swallowed hard.

“We found, a uh, a girl. She’s pretty lost and confused. We did all the tests. She’s not a monster, so we were trying to help her,” Dean stated quickly. Yeah, he’d omitted a few little details but hoped he could work up to those.

“So why don’t you want me to go inside?” John asked, and Dean could tell he was quickly losing his patience.

“Well, she, uh, she isn’t human, but she’s not a monster,” he answered.

John moved far too fast for Dean to think. He was inside the motel, Dean quickly on his heels. Dean had barely managed to close the door behind him. John stopped dead in his tracks, seeing you sleeping in the bed, your ears twitching slightly at the sounds.

“What the hell is she?” John practically demanded through a clenched jaw, his hand on his gun.

You stirred at the new voice in the room, slowly opening your eyes. Seeing the older man now standing at the side of your bed instantly freaked you out, and you moved to the far side of the bed, debating the corner of the room.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s just my dad,” Dean quickly told you, moving toward the other side of the bed, but John stopped him.

“What. Is. She?” he asked again, enunciating each word, just as stern as before, only now, he had drawn his gun and aiming it at you.

You knew what was in his hand and the damage it could do. Your eyes widened. Slowly, you slid off the bed toward the corner of the motel room, staying as low to the ground as you could, terrified.

Dean sighed, “She’s an Eldrathiren, and she’s from another dimension.”

John looked over at his son in disbelief, “And you just let her in the motel room?!” You heard a click from the gun, and you knew that meant all he had to do now was pull the trigger.

“She’s not a monster,” Sammy said confidently, awake now due to the commotion in the room.

John’s eyes were back on you, ignoring his youngest son, but his hand was no longer on Dean. Dean was torn between listening to and obeying his father or standing between you and the gun. He took a shaky breath and chose to defy his father and stand between you and the gun his father was pointing at you.

“Dad, please, let us explain,” Dean began, holding his hands up in front of him. He used as calm a tone as he could manage, praying his father would listen to reason.

“She’s only fifteen, don’t hurt her,” Sammy stated, standing beside his brother.

John rolled his eyes, “What the hell has gotten into the two of you?! Move!” “I’m sorry, I’ll leave,” you said meekly from behind the brothers, still crouched in the corner.

You speaking threw John off, especially with the amount of fear in your voice. He sighed and uncocked his gun before sliding it back into his waistband. “Dean, make some coffee. Sammy, start packing everything. You, I want to talk to you,” John barked orders, and he didn’t sound in the mood to be argued with.

Dean clenched his jaw but didn’t argue, “Yes, Sir.”

Sammy said nothing and did as he was told while John went and sat at the table, motioning for you to follow him. You did but were very cautious as you sat down across from him. Dean kept an eye on you as he began a pot of coffee, worried about what his father might do.

“Now, mind explaining how you managed to get both my boys to go against everything I’ve ever taught them about hunting?” he asked you, fairly annoyed.

Your POV

This wasn’t something you’d prepared yourself for, getting woken up to an adult and then having a gun pointed at you. You also hadn’t anticipated both brothers attempting to protect you from their father, no less. You explained to John what had happened to you since the day of your birthday, what a Traveler was, at least what you knew about them, and then about how Sammy had found you the day you showed up and tried to help you.

It was hard to tell how he felt or what he was thinking. Dean had gotten his father a cup of coffee and also had one himself. He was leaning on the counter, just listening. Sammy had finished packing their things up and loaded them in the car outside, which you still hadn’t seen. John was clearly thinking.

The sun was now up, its rays shining through the thin, closed curtains of the motel room. John was sipping his second cup of coffee. He still hadn’t said anything, and you were trying not to fidget with the hem of your shirt although you were looking down at the table.

“Dad-,” Sammy began quietly, but John just held up a hand in his direction, effectively silencing him.

Dean was still leaning against the counter, his arms crossed, just watching his father and you. The silence was getting not only you but also the brothers. John was glancing at you occasionally, more at your ears than anything. They had drooped some, as they did when you were worried or sad.

It wasn’t until he finished his coffee that he finally said something, “We’ll take her with us, for now.”

Both the brothers seemed relieved, but you weren’t sure how to feel. At least you wouldn’t be alone in this strange place, but John seemed like an angry, strict adult, and not even his boys would argue with him.

“Let’s go,” John told you and his sons, standing from his seat and heading for the door.

You glanced over at Dean, and he nodded, so you, too, got up and headed outside. The sounds didn’t bother you like the day you’d arrived, having had time to adjust to them. Dean opened the back door of the car that John had gone to. Sammy had already gotten in, sitting behind his father.

“It’s okay. It won’t hurt you, and it’ll be okay,” Dean told you quietly. “Thanks,” you replied just as quietly, sliding into the back seat.

Dean sat in the front seat in front of you. Sammy reached over and set the beanie in your lap so you could cover your ears, and you gave him a thankful smile before doing so. You’d wanted to go outside the second day you’d arrived but had listened to Dean and stayed indoors. Now, you watched as the world outside passed by while John drove to wherever he was going.

You were in complete awe, looking out the windows during the entire drive. Sometimes, there would be music on and other times, it would be quiet. John barely said anything, so both brothers stayed quiet. John mostly took backroads but stopped for food and gas a few different times.

When he finally parked in front of a two-story house, Dean asked, “What are we doing at Bobby’s?”

“It’s too dangerous to take her with us,” John said flatly, “I called him before you three made it out to the car. He knows, and he’s okay with her staying here.”

You looked between the two of them in the front seat but said nothing as your heart began to race. Dean got out and opened your door while Sammy grabbed your bag out of the truck. He looked so sad as he handed it to you, and then you followed the brothers and John to the front door.

A man near John’s age opened the door after John knocked, “John, boys.”

“Bobby,” John replied.

The man you realized was Bobby held the door open as you followed the three inside.

“I’m sorry I’m so much trouble,” you told the adults quietly.

Bobby sighed as he looked you over, “You need help. We’ll see what we can find.”

“Boys, grab your bags. We’ll be staying a couple days to help Bobby go through his books,” John told them again in that stern voice.

You wondered if that was just the way his voice was and how he always spoke, but you weren’t about to ask either. Bobby’s place looked nice, although fairly cluttered with a lot of books. You may have been able to speak English, but you still didn’t know how to read it.

“Come on, kid, I’ll show you where you can sleep while you’re here,” Bobby told you, and he didn’t seem frustrated at you.

“Thank you,” you replied, still a bit quietly, but you also gave him a small smile.

For the next three days, the four of them poured through books. The brothers and their father slept in Bobby’s living room. Bobby was kind, although he was still surprised to see your ears and tail. You were a creature none of them had encountered before. Bobby and Dean took turns cooking. Or, someone would order food and have it delivered.

You’d been contemplating why you hadn’t ended up in another dimension yet, although you knew very little about Travelers and how things worked. Plus, so far, not one of Bobby’s books even talked about your kind, let alone a Traveler. Even the morning the brothers and their dad got ready to head out, you wanted to go with them. You weren’t sure why, you just did. Saying goodbye to the two of them was hard, and for a moment, you thought you saw something in Dean’s eyes when he looked at you. It was just before he quickly turned from you and got in his Dad’s car, Sammy already in the back and John in the driver’s seat.

“I’m gonna miss them,” you said quietly before Bobby put his arm around your shoulders.

“I know, kid. They’ll be back one day,” Bobby tried to reassure you.

“But will I still be here?” you asked rhetorically, although quietly. It felt like a piece of you was missing now, but had no clue why. “I’m gonna go to my room for a bit.”

There were still so many things you didn’t understand about being a Traveler, and this dimension had held no answers so far. You hadn’t even realized that that scent you’d followed on your birthday hadn’t even been around. As you sat on your bed, things your parents had told you played through your mind.

Travelers are different, Y/N. Their powers are typically based on where they go. All we can tell you are the rumors from a long, long time ago—stories that have been passed down. In the stories, a Traveler has a soul that needs to find something or someone. That is what makes them disappear from here and travel dimensions until they find whatever it is they are looking for or need to find. So far, at least in the last few centuries, a Traveler has never returned. Dimensions work in weird ways. There could be numerous dimensions of just our world, not to mention all the other ones that are out there. As per the stories, a Traveler stops aging at twenty-five until they find what their soul is searching for, but no one knows for sure. The chances of you being a Traveler are very slim. According to the stories, it only happens along certain bloodlines, and so far, no one in our bloodline has ever been a Traveler. So, your Dad and I don’t want you to worry about that. You’ll probably get a power similar to what the two of us can do or something close to one in our bloodline.

A knock on your door pulled you from your thoughts, “Y/N, you want something to eat?” Bobby asked through the closed door.

You sighed, “Sure.”

The moment you opened the door though, you caught a whiff of that scent again, and you froze. You weren’t ready to leave this dimension.

“What’s wrong?” he asked you, seeing your reaction.

“The scent, it’s… back,” you answered, staring at nothing in particular but worried you’d just disappear.

Without thinking twice, you grabbed your bag off the end of the bed. If you were going to get dragged somewhere else, you at least wanted to have that with you. So far, the last two times you ended up in a different dimension, you’d walked through two objects. In your world, there were two mushrooms near the border of your village. In the last world, it had been two trees. Here, you had no idea what it would be, and the doorway of your room could have easily been what would take you somewhere else.

“Well, come try to eat something,” Bobby told you before heading back to the kitchen, leaving your door open.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes as you walked through the doorway of your room. Everything changed around you as you felt a warm breeze blow through your hair.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 4 - Twilight Veil

Link to the series Masterlist.

A/N: If you'd like to get in on the Dimensional Traveling, go to this link and leave me with a comment, or several, with as much or as little detail about the dimension you'd like the Traveler to end up in. If you'd like to have something specific happen, share that too. I'll make sure that you get credit for the idea you shared in the chapter in which your dimension is featured. I'd love to have as many readers involved as possible. I think this could be a lot of fun.

As always, if you'd like to be tagged, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list.

Tag List: @littlemadamred @mxltifxnd0m

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