#I LOVE HOW SUNDAY LOOKS IN YOUR STYLE TOO OH MY GOSH

[way2gosuperrstarr]

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AAA WHAT !!!!! WHAT!!!!!!! IVE JUST BEEN STARING AT THIS TRYING TO FIGURE OUT WHAT TO SAY OH MY GODDDDD

I ???????/ LOVE IT I LOVE THEM???? THE WAY YOU DRAW ALL OF THEM IS SO GOOD IM SKAJFKSFHJ !!!!!!!!!! THANK YOU !!!!!!!!!!

i ??????? just cannot get over how you drew all of them>???????? GOD ???

HIIII @way2gosuperrstarr!!! im a bit late, but was ur secret skeleton!!!

loved all their deigns so much i couldn't choose just one so i drew all of them hahah

had such fun working on these, i hope you like them! happy belated halloween!!! :D

[aesopsharpmybeloved]

Of Care And Comfort

I am alive! Also, it occured to me that i never actually wrote a sickfic before, so I set the basic idea, thought itď be short and sweet and then I went crazy on the keyboard. Some of the things I wrote were most definitely NOT in the idea, but they just came so naturally and after I went over it to fix typos I actually really liked it. So I hope you will too. (ps: poor meow meow)

Please, check out my other stories from this no vampires alternate universe - A Simple Case of Love

Of Care And Comfort - 3.9K

tw: illness (influenza), vomiting

It was to be a regular Sunday mass. You were sitting with Erin in your usual pew, waiting for Father Paul to arrive for the homily. Except today he was nowhere to be found. You looked at your watch for the umpteenth time today - he was twenty minutes late already. Turning around, your eyes connected with those of Warren Flynn. You questioned him with your gaze, but he merely shrugged his shoulders and continued standing with the other altarboy, Ooker, by the church entrance. You were getting rather worried for the priest and when Bev finally proclaimed that she'd check up on him, you were nearly glad she was here.

Not five minutes later, Beverly returned to the church, stood at the top of the stairs in front of the altar and spoke: "Unfortunately, we'll have to cancel mass today, Father Hill is not feeling well. I'll have to stay with him, of course, but if anyone could get a hold of Dr Gunning and bring her over to the rectory, that'd be great, thank you." You immediately looked at Erin and she could only nod, before you stood up and left at a quick pace. As your legs automatically led you towards the house of the Island's doctor, you prayed Paul's predicament wasn't anything serious or life-threatening. The citizens of Crockett Island just got used to having Father Paul as their pastor, and after Leeza Scarborough miraculously regained the feeling in her legs, he was becoming well beloved by the people. He was a fair, kind man and it'd be horrible if something happened to him.

Before you knew it, you were knocking on Sarah's door, not too roughly, but rather insistently. Sarah opened after a while, looking confused as people didn't usually come around to her place while Sunday mass was in progress. "(F/N)? Hi, how come you're not in Saint Patrick's?" she asked, looking you up and down curiously. "Sarah," you said, a little out of breath, "I'm sorry to bother you, but Father Paul is ill and needs a doctor." "Oh, gosh, give me five minutes, I'm gonna get dressed." Only then did you notice that Dr Gunning was actually wearing her dressing gown and slippers, probably having only woken up a while prior to your arrival. You nodded and waited outside.

True to her word, Sarah was dressed quickly and you both set off back towards the rectory. Upon reaching it, you knocked on the door, a bit softer this time, and waited for someone to allow you entry. "Come in," came Bev's voice and you braced yourself and opened the door. Your gaze immediately fell on Father Paul, who was sitting on the tiny sofa, elbows on his knees and face in his hands. He looked up when you and Sarah entered and, oh boy. Paul was dressed in his usual church attire, so it seemed he actually tried to go and serve mass, but one look at him made it painfully obvious he was in no state to do so. He was pale as a ghost and his skin was clammy. His hair, which was normally styled back, was a mess too. Few strands of it fell into his eyes and got stuck to his sweating forehead. Paul's eyes were red with dark circles underneath them and Bev only completed the look of a completely ill man by bringing a bucket into the living area and setting it near the priest's feet.

You stood back while Sarah got to work, asking Father Paul questions and checking his vitals. After drawing his blood, she sat back. "Well, I'm going to run some tests on this," she said waving the vial of blood , "but I'm fairly certain you got yourself a nasty flu. High temperature, nausea, headache, etcetera, etcetera. Well, I'll know for sure in a day or two. Any idea of how you could've come by it?" Father Paul, who looked very pitiful still and was wincing at every louder sound finally opened his mouth to speak: "I think I know," he croaked and eyed you momentarily, "when I was on the mainland because of the meeting with the dioceses; Reverend O'Neil was present and he did sneeze a lot. He blamed it on hay fever." Sarah stored her equipment while Paul was speaking, carefully putting the blood vial into her case so it wouldn't break. "Well, Father, you best take some ibuprofen for the fever, drink plenty of fluids and rest. I'll run some tests at home and will check up on you in a few days." She turned to leave. You offered a soft 'Get well soon' to the priest and went to leave with her, planning to go check up on him yourself soon.

You couldn't have been more shocked at what happened next. As you and Dr Gunning slowly walked away from the rectory and towards the road, Bev Keane called after you: "(F/N (L/N), please wait." You stopped in your tracks and witnessed Sarah give you a pitying look before she said her goodbyes and parted ways with you. You and Bev hadn't spoken since the (one-sided) confrontation in church weeks ago, when Father Paul told her off in your defence. Since then, both of you became rather excellent at ignoring one another's existence, save for a few cold looks. "Can I help you?" you asked neutrally. "Actually you can," said Bev with a tense smile, "It's Father Hill." That got your attention, alright. "It's rather obvious he’ll need someone to take care of him on the weekdays while he's unwell, or at the very least check up on him every now and then. I unfortunately cannot fill this role, as I am teaching the entire day. You on the other hand," she vaguely moved her hand in your direction, "don't really have an actual job, do you. That's a lot of free time you have on hand and perhaps you ought to use it to do your Christian duty. Seeing as you and Father Hill... get on well, it shouldn't be a problem for you. That is if it doesn't inconvenience your life too much."

As much as you'd like to not help Bev Keane, you very much wanted to aid Father Paul in any way you could. Therefore you swallowed your retort about writing being a real job, and that taking care of a dear friend did not any way inconvenience you, and tried to put on the most polite tone you could muster: "I'll come tomorrow then."

---

You kept your promise and the next day, once you were sure Bev had gone to school and wouldn't come back, packed some food and ingredients into a bag and set off towards the rectory. You didn't even knock and entered quietly, fully expecting Paul to be sleeping in his bedroom. You were in for a surprise. There, on that tiny sofa where two people could barely fit, laid the priest. You had no idea how on earth did he fit there considering his height, but you really had no time to ponder that question. Father Paul was curled into himself, breathing hard and releasing a small whimper every now and then, he was very obviously in pain. 

You immediately dropped everything and moved up to the couch, kneeling beside it close to the man's head. You put your hand on his shoulder and gave a light squeeze. "Paul?" you asked slowly. He uncovered his face a little and you immediately noticed that he looked much worse than yesterday, his eyes were more red and unfocused and heat was radiating off his pale skin. "(F/N)," he said in a hoarse voice, "I think I'm going to-'' You knew exactly what was going to happen and were thankfully quick in your reactions. Grabbing the bucket you saw Bev put there yesterday, you shoved it next to the sofa and quickly pulled Paul's head over it. The poor man proceeded to promptly empty his stomach into it. You caressed his back and head, and made gentle shushing noises, comforting him throughout his ordeal. 

A few minutes later there was only dry-heaving coming from Father Paul, and then it all stopped. You carefully rolled him on his side and, after making sure he wouldn't be sick again, went to empty the bucket and bring a wet flannel, a glass of water and some medication to help with the nausea and fever Sarah gave you after you told her you’d be taking care of Paul. "Do you think you can sit?" you asked once you came back with all the items. Father Paul made a non-committal groan. You set the bucket back next to the sofa, just to be sure, and put everything else on a table. "Here, let me help," very, very slowly you helped Paul into a sitting position. You took the flannel and started dabbing him with it, his forehead, his cheeks, his neck, finally wiping his lips with it. He barely reacted to the cool cloth, his eyes were glossed over and not really looking at anything. "You're wearing the clothes from yesterday," you observed, speaking softly, aware he probably wasn't listening to you, "we should get you into a set of pyjamas, get you comfortable in your bed. This crappy old thing will only make your back ache too." ‘Did Bev just leave him here like this?’

Well, getting him to bed was easier said than done. Despite his lean frame, Father Paul was rather heavy and he leaned his entire weight into you as you helped him stand. The height difference didn’t make it easy for you either. You had to half drag, half carry him to his bedroom, all the while holding the bucket in your left hand in case the priest was about to be sick again. You didn't even know how you did it, but in the end you really did manage to bring him to his bedroom. Sometime later, you sat Paul against the headboard of his bed, content to just leave him there for a while while you fetched everything else you deemed important into the room. Rinsing the flannel, you once again wiped down his sweaty brow and then put the cold cloth on his heated neck. This time, there was a reaction. Father Paul sighed with relief and closed his eyes and you saw his muscles untensing a little. Now came the most difficult part.

You searched the bedroom for some pyjamas - the priest would hardly be comfortable in his trousers and clerical shirt with collar. You finally picked a plain short sleeved t-shirt and sleeping shorts, all the while preparing yourself. If you claimed you never imagined taking off Father Paul's clothes, you'd be lying through your teeth, but this was definitely NOT the way you wanted it to go. Still, you couldn't just leave him in his current clothes, as they were completely soaked with his sweat and sticking to his skin. You took a deep breath and got to work. Almost clinically, you unbuttoned Paul's shirt piece by piece, until you could slip it from his shoulders and onto the bed. Taking the cloth again, you dabbed at his collarbone and chest and under his arms. He was in no shape to take a shower and it was better than nothing. It was actually much easier than you thought it would be - tender feelings or not, you were here most importantly as a friend helping a friend in need. After you were done with washing him at least a little, you helped Paul into the t-shirt. To save you both the embarrassment, you made quick work of his trousers, cladding him in the shorts hurriedly. However, it seemed Paul was quite out of it again and seemed to barely take notice that he had just been completely undressed and re-dressed by you.

"Hey," you spoke and patted his cheek softly to get his attention. He turned his bleary eyes at you. "I'm going to need you to take your meds and drink some water, ok? Can you do that for me?" Paul thought for a moment and then nodded. You ever so carefully put the pill against his lips and he took it in. Then you helped him wash it down with water, instructing him to take small sips and ready to reach for the bucket any time. It ironically reminded you of seeing people accepting communion from him. To your delight, he actually managed to keep the medicine and small amount of fluid down. "Listen," you got his attention again, "I'm going to help you lie down now." You did just so and soon he was on his right side again, facing the door to the living room. You moved the bucket close to him again and made to go to the kitchen. A large but severely weakened hand suddenly enveloped your wrist and tried to stop you. You turned around to see Paul looking at you desperately. Sighing, you kneeled next to the bed, took the hand that reached out and put it to his chest, holding it within your own: "Hey, don't worry, I'm not going anywhere. I'll just be in the next room." Paul seemed hesitant. "I'm not leaving you. Promise. If you need me, just call, I'll be right back. But please, try to get some sleep now, ok? Can you try? Please, for me?" You were caressing his cheek with your free hand without realising it, but it seemed Paul was aware of it, for he closed his eyes and leaned into it. After a while, you released his hand and moved away, no protest coming now as the priest really did doze off.

You managed to quickly locate the bag you brought with you and immediately set to work. Everyone knew that the best food you could eat when you’re ill is hot rich chicken soup. You had no idea what the science behind it was, but there was never a time when you wouldn't feel better after eating a bowl of it; were you fighting a flu, a cold, a nasty break-up or a massive hangover. It was getting dark once you were done and so you decided to check up on Father Paul before going home. He was still in his bed, sleeping. Turning on a lamp, you gave him a quick look over - some colour returned to his face and when you put your hand on his forehead, you could feel the fever has climbed down slightly. It was not gone, however, and it was time for another dose of the meds. Once again reaching for Paul's shoulder and squeezing it, you whispered his name into his ear. He stirred and then opened his eyes, looking at you. He seemed way more there than in the morning and looked at you with slight confusion at finding you here. "Hey," you said, still whispering, "You've been sleeping for some time. Are you still tired?" He blinked once, twice, then: "Yeah..." "I figured. Don't worry, I won't keep you awake, but you need to take your meds and some more water. Then I'll let you sleep again, okay?" This time it was much easier, as Paul was much more responsive and actually almost managed to sit up on his own. He also drank more water now.

For a while, he just sat leaning against the headboard with closed eyes, breathing slowly. "Are you ready to lie back down now?" you asked softly and he hummed in agreement, settling upon his side yet again. "Are you going to stay?" asked Father Paul as you were reaching to turn off the lamp. You originally planned to go home for the night, but hearing his hoarse voice and then looking into his sad puppy eyes wouldn't allow you to do so with a clean conscience. "Yes. Of course I'm going to stay," you said and stroked a single finger along his jaw, "I'll be in the living room, whatever you need. Goodnight, Paul." 

---

You sat on the sofa in the rectory, after wolfing down one bowl of the soup you made - you brought no food for yourself, since you didn't know you'd be spending the night. No matter, though, you made enough soup to last for some time and one bowl wouldn't make a difference at all. You half expected Bev to show up and check up on Father Paul, maybe criticise that you're not taking care of him well enough, or complain that your soup stinks or something. However, it was nearing ten o'clock and she was nowhere to be seen, so after checking up on the sleeping Paul one last time, you made yourself comfortable on the sofa. Or, well, you tried to. How on earth did you manage to fall asleep on this hellish thing before was beyond you... Not really, you knew that the only reason you'd fallen asleep on this couch was the man who now slept in the next room, plagued by fever. You really were doing your best, but you still wished you could do more. The state you found the poor man in this morning was honestly terrifying. He did look better in the evening, but he truly should've drank more of the water. You had to get an actual meal into him in the morning if possible, or else he could get worse again. 

You didn't notice falling asleep until you woke up in the morning. It was still fairly early, as the sun wasn’t done climbing above the horizon and you immediately registered what had woken you. There was a sound from inside the house, somewhere behind you and as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes you realised it was the sound of running water. You got up from the sofa, wincing as your muscles protested. You probably would have been better off sleeping on the floor, you thought bitterly as you moved towards the bedroom. You leaned against the doorframe and gazed into the dim room - the bed was empty and, delightfully, so was the bucket. The door to the bathroom was closed and you could now clearly identify the sink faucet running. A short while later, the door opened and out came Father Paul, his legs slightly shaky, but carrying his weight.

He just leaned against a cabinet for support when he noticed you. "Hello," he murmured, "you... You actually stayed?" His voice sounded slightly better and he was obviously aware now. The prolonged standing seemed to tire him though, so you walked over to him to help him back into bed: "Of course I stayed. I promised you I would, didn't I?" When you sat him down Father Paul smiled at you. His smile was nowhere near as radiant as it usually is, but it was just as soft. He definitely looked better than yesterday, his cheeks had some pink in them now and there was a spark in his eye where yesterday had only been dull mist. You sat down right next to him, unbothered by the close proximity for once and touched his forehead with the back of your hand. Satisfied with the temperature dropping a bit again, you let your hand fall. "You hungry?" you asked after a moment. "Starving," replied the priest quietly. You sat up again and made your way to the kitchen, speaking up a bit so he heard you: "That's good. You probably shouldn't eat too much at once, so your stomach doesn't get upset again, but it's important for you to eat something, or the medication itself could make you sick."

You heated a smaller portion of the soup on a stove and put it in a bowl onto a tray to bring into Paul's bedroom. Paul ate slowly, as you advised him, but seemed like he wanted to shovel the food into his mouth after the first spoonful hit his tongue. Which you found greatly flattering of course. After he was done, you supplied him with another glass of water which he emptied soon, small sip after sip, washing down another pill in the process. You then remained sitting in his bed, talking and while Paul's spirits seemed high, you could see the exhaustion setting in quickly. "Forgive me," he said at one point, suddenly sounding sad. You looked at him confused: "What for?" Paul rubbed his eyes with his hand and sighed. "I'm sorry you had to see me like.. that. That you have to take care of me. I feel so stupid, I kept you here all night because of a flu. I didn't want to be a burden," he said at last, voice hoarse again. He wouldn't look at you and you couldn't help but wrap your arms around him and put his head to rest on your shoulder, holding him tight. "Don't be silly," you said, gentle yet firm, "don't say silly things like that. You're not stupid, and you're not a burden, and you don't apologise when you're ill. I'm here, because I want to be here and I'm taking care of you, because I want you to get well again. I really care about you, you know." 

Father Paul was returning your embrace softly, forehead pressed into the crook of your neck. You could gradually feel his arms faltering in their hold and so you let him out of your arms and smiled at him: "I mean that. Don't you talk like that again. And don't think like that either, please. Promise?" The priest gave you a smile in return and nodded. You excused yourself to clean up the bowl and move the rest of the soup into the fridge and made him lean against the headboard again. After you were done, you snuck a peek into his room to find him asleep again. You silently walked over to the man with a smile and carefully brushed the hair that fell into his forehead to the side, letting your hand linger for just a moment. When he subconsciously leaned into your touch again, you let your fingers slowly comb through his silky raven locks, mindful not to wake him. As he slept, his face got so calm and relaxed, even more open than it normally was. He was beautiful, in body and in spirit. You enjoyed the feeling for as long as you could before pulling your hand away. He made an unhappy little sound but remained asleep. Slipping out of the bedroom you collected your bag. You really needed to take a shower at home and, seeing as you would probably be staying in the rectory until you nursed the priest back to health, you had to grab some necessities. Sleeping bag, for one, no way you were going to spend one more night on that godawful sofa. After double checking that you had everything, you entered the bedroom one more time. A minute or two passed. Then you quietly approached the bed again and leaned in, pressing your lips to Father Paul's forehead, right above his expressive eyebrows.

---

Father Paul woke, feeling much better than he did two days ago. Slightly faint still, but since he was no longer bent over the godforsaken bucket, he considered it a win. The rectory was silent and he looked around for any sign of (F/N). What he found was a piece of folded paper on his nightstand. He slowly took a hold of it. "I’ll be back soon, x (F/N)" it read and the priest smiled into the page. He laid down onto his back and looked up into the ceiling, as if there was a night sky above him. And on his forehead, there was a phantom of a kiss.

Hope you liked it. As always, you can check this story on AO3. I’m dying for feedback c: Looong Author’s note bellow.

---

Author’s note - Beverly isn’t exactly fond of Father Paul in this universe (to the point of leaving him suffer on the sofa) and I will explain why: I think in the canon, Bev wasn’t too ‘Keane’ on Father Paul until she realised it was Monsignor Pruitt. After experiencing no consequences for what she did to Pike, maybe she even saw it fit to get rid of the new priest (cue the school closet poison scene). She started to suspect something after seeing the photo on the wall, of course and probably thought like: either - he’s not going to die because he’s monsignor pruitt and he’s young again and that’s sus enough to not die, or - he’s going to die, but it’ll be okay, cause everyone knew he had been sick for a while. And when she realised Paul WAS Pruitt, she started to be ultra ‘caring’ cause that’s how she used to manipulate pruitt before too and it worked. SO while she doesn’t attempt to poison him in this universe, she simply doesn’t care for him, hence just leaving him in pain on the sofa and not checking up on him was no biggie for her.

[pingutats]

my dearest darling

in which you and harry spend a sunday morning having coffee & cake, and spontaneously decide to go engagement ring shopping together.

warnings: a little suggestive at the end. mostly just pure fluff!

word count: 3.4k

.                               .                           .                               .                           .

The little alleyway off the main street filled with café tables is a perfect place for you and Harry to sit unseen. In fact, in this little alcove, it’s easy to watch the world pass by the two of you. It’s a nice reprieve from the usual of the world watching Harry. 

He’s wearing sunglasses anyway, just in case—despite the overcast weather. 

You frown at him, resting your elbows on the table and lacing your fingers together to rest your chin on. “I really think that makes you more conspicuous.”

He scrunches up his nose. “Nah. Or at least, if people notice, they’re going to notice an odd bloke in sunnies, not me.”

“They’ll notice it’s you.”

He glances at the busy footpath. “‘S working so far, love.”

A young waitress rounds the corner from the cafe’s front entrance and sets your coffees down on the table. You move your elbows off the table politely to give her space.

“Thanks,” Harry says, reaching for his black coffee. 

You smile at the waitress as you wrap your hands around the latte you ordered, warming up your freezing fingers. You notice the way she hesitates before she leaves, how she looks at Harry like she wants to say something before before quickly spinning on her heels and walking away. When she’s out of earshot, you look at Harry. “She knows.”

He shrugs. “That’s different.”

The waitress reappears a minute later with the little cakes you ordered. This time, she’s braver. “I’m so sorry—are you Harry Styles?” she asks, saying his name in a voice that’s akin to a reverent whisper.

His eyes dart to you for a split second and he raises his eyebrow enough that only you’ll notice, conceding to you, then smiles at her. “Yeah, I am. Sorry, what’s your name?”

You watch him navigate the encounter easily, like you’ve watched so many times. The girl asks for a photo and he politely declines, explaining that he doesn’t want to draw attention, but offers to sign a napkin for her instead. He a short message (nice to meet you, all my love) to her and draws a couple hearts after he signs his name, then passes it to her with a sweetly genuine thanks her for her support. 

“Oh my gosh, no, thank you,” she says earnestly. “It was so, so nice to meet you.” She glances at you, then, and her cheeks go even pinker. “Thanks,” she says again, and then she’s gone.

You let a giggle free at the awkward way his fans treat you, like they don’t know if it’s appropriate to talk to you as well, and how they struggle to find something to say to you anyway. Once it might have bothered you. It’s just amusing to you now. You raise your brows at Harry. “All your love?” you tease, quoting the message he wrote on the napkin. “Where’s my share?”

He pouts from behind his sunglasses. “Don’t be like that.”

You kick his shin gently underneath the table. “I’m kidding around. She was sweet. I like watching you do that, you’re so good at it.”

His foot swings around to trap your ankle between his. “Trying to play footsie at eleven o’clock on a Sunday morning? You little minx.”

You roll your eyes and wrench your foot free, rattling the table as you do so. He laughs—a sharp barking ha! that makes you smile through your embarrassment at causing a small commotion. 

“Who’s conspicuous, sorry?” he asks.

 You shake your head at him and stab your fork into your apple and cinnamon muffin. He keeps giggling as he slides his own plate with the carrot cake to his side of the table and picks up a fork himself.

“Mm, that’s good,” he says after he swallows his first bite. “Better than the one I make.”

“Well, baking isn’t known to be one of your talents.”

He claps a hand to his chest. “I’m wounded.” He leans over the table and skewers a piece of your muffin on his fork, dodging your attempts to swat his hand away with great agility. He pops it in his mouth triumphantly, cocking his head like he’s challenging you. 

In return, you steal a piece of his cake. 

“That was a much larger piece than what I took,” he accuses. 

You shrug.

His phone, face down on the table, dings. He glances up at you. 

“Check it,” you tell him. You know he only has alerts on for his closest friends—otherwise his phone would be ringing all day long. “I don’t mind.”

He bites his lip apologetically and flips the phone over, reading it. “Oh, it’s Tom. Hang on a sec.” He starts typing back.

You crane your neck around to read the message—something about Tom being free at the end of July, and Harry is giving a thumbs-up to that.

“Where are you off to?” you ask. 

“France, maybe,” he replies. You’re aware that discovering this kind of information so suddenly would be jarring for most couples, enough to even incite a fight—but you and Harry aren’t exactly a normal couple, and international trips are just part and parcel of your relationship. Hell, he goes on world tours for months at a time. You’re lucky, you suppose, that you function just as well long-distance as you do when you’re living together. 

“Lads’ trip?”

He sends the message and clicks his phone off, leaning back in his chair. “Nah. Taking you to Paris and getting down on m’knee in front of the Eiffel Tower,” he says, nodding sagely. 

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, Tom’s there to get the photos.” He shovels a forkful of the cake into his mouth and then points his fork in the general direction of a street busker playing a violin across the road. He swallows. “And I’m getting that guy to play a little tune, for the atmosphere,” he adds. 

You raise your brows. “Oh, you’ve got budget for this, then.”

He smiles. “Nothing but the best for my dearest darling.”

You snort.

He carefully cuts a piece of cake with the edge of his fork. “Nah, we’re thinking of doing a trip down to his friend’s studio in—somewhere in France, I can’t remember really. Friends and family welcome too, if you want to come. Apparently it’s a real nice place.” He eats his mouthful and then lifts his sunnies to look at you with clear eyes. “We are getting married, though. I mean that.”

Your cheeks threaten to burst from how badly you want to smile, but you force yourself to assume a serious face, just to humour him. “Of course we are.”

Despite the butterflies it inspires, this conversation isn’t new. You’ve been with Harry a couple of years now and you both know you’re on the same page when it comes to your shared future. There are no hard plans, but the direction is set. You’re getting there someday. 

He puffs his cheeks out. “I feel like you aren’t taking this as seriously as I am.”

You sigh melodramatically. “Well, sweetheart, I haven’t seen a ring yet.”

“A ring? You should have asked,” he drawls, then suddenly sits up straight and points a finger at you. “Don’t take that as a challenge. I want to be the one to ask.”

You shrug. “Can’t make any promises.”

His arm shoots forward to grab at your hand and you almost laugh out loud at the puppy-eyes he’s making at you. “No, please, baby, I swear you can do everything else, but let me do the proposing bit.”

In your heart, you’re happy he’s so insistent, because this is exactly how you want it to be too. In your mind, though, you really enjoy tormenting him. 

“I’ll think about it,” you concede, and he groans.

“I’m buying a ring soon as I can, just to lock it in,” he tells you as he destroys what’s left of his carrot cake.

Once you’ve finished and Harry’s gone up to pay for the coffee and cake (he also took a moment to lean over the counter to snap a group selfie with the waitress who served you earlier and a couple others too) you walk back up the street in the general direction of your car that’s parked a few blocks down. The weather is pleasant today and the sun is even peeking out from behind the clouds now, justifying his sunglasses. 

Your mind starts to drift (his arm wrapped loosely around your waist anchors you to the real world) as you think about how nice it is to be with Harry, how you’ve learned to appreciate each physical moment you have with him because they are so precious. After the tours, the promotional trips, the film sets, and all the little things in between, you understand how to be with Harry. You know not everyone can handle a life like this, and you’re sure that if it wasn’t Harry whose return you awaited, you wouldn’t be able to either. But he always returns. 

Harry comes to a sudden halt in front of a shop window, gazing in. You’re nearly yanked off your feet as you keep trying to walk with your arm around him—he’s so steady that he doesn’t budge. You stand next to him and look into what you realise is a jewellery store. 

“What do you think?” he asks. 

“Huh?”

He looks down, his arm squeezing around your shoulder. “Said I’d get you a ring, didn’t I?”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach. “What, today?”

“‘M not asking. Just preparing.”

You raise your eyebrows up at him. “That is… that is really a technicality.”

“Humour me,” he says. “C’mon.” He shepherds you into the store, steering you by your shoulders. 

It’s small and pretty in here, the air from the fans cool against your sun-warmed skin. There are hardly any other customers at the moment, so you have some kind of valuable privacy. There are a couple of glass counters that run along either side of the store with meticulously placed themed displays inside them. You gravitate immediately to the closest thing, a cluster of rough amethysts hanging from necklaces. 

“Aren’t these so cute?” you comment to Harry.

His arms wrap around you from behind and you reach up to grasp onto his crossed forearms resting against your chest. “Oh, yeah, they are.”

You stay there looking at the necklaces for a little too long—it’s not like you’re really that fascinated by the jewels, but more that you’re just enjoying Harry’s head leaning over your shoulder and his chest pressed to your back as you stand there. When your gaze meanders along the counter and you see something new, though, you shake free of his grip and follow your whims.

This store isn’t labelled out front with a massive brand. You’re pretty sure it’s an independent jeweller, judging by the neat description cards that accompany each small collection, explaining the theme in a lively and personal manner. This is what makes you really fall in love with the place and feel sure that this is where you’ll find the perfect ring. You know Harry could afford any ring from any famous brand, the heaviest jewels imaginable, easily worthy of a feature article in Vogue magazine. He could probably organise to have a diamond dug up fresh specifically to go on your finger. 

It’s the fact that Harry could give you anything in the world that makes you not want it at all. Special, to the two of you, isn’t something that you’ll find in wealth or the crowds that adore him.

It’s found in a day like this.

“Oh, my god, H, look at this one,” you gasp, grabbing his wrist and pulling him over.

He bends over the counter, his gaze following the line of your pointing finger. “Oh, that is pretty,” he says. 

It’s a simple gold band with a small, neatly carved diamond fixed to it. It isn’t flashy at all, which is what drew you to it. You knew he’d like it too. Despite the decadence of his performances, he can be a different man behind closed doors and you love that part of him. The secret part, the one that only you know so well. 

“I’m in love with it,” you tell him.

Harry nods. “Yeah, I think that’s the one.”

You never doubted that he would agree, but his assent sends a bolt of excitement up your spine. It’s all so real, suddenly, and you can’t wait to see him on his knee for you, to see that ring on your finger. You know your ring size off by heart (how could you not, being in a relationship with the jewellery connoisseur that Harry is), so there’ll be no need for you to try it on today. You’re left with only the raw anticipation of the day he’ll slide it onto your finger. 

His hands come down to rest on your hips as you both stare at the ring. You imagine you can hear his heart, knowing that it’ll be beating erratically because his excitement must match yours—you know how he feels about the idea of marriage. 

He spins you around to face him, leaving his hands on your hips. He looks at you very seriously. His sunglasses are resting on top of his head now, pushing back his curls and revealing his green eyes and furrowed brow to you.

“You know, if we’re seen buying an engagement ring…” he begins, trailing off. He shrugs. “Just want to think about that.”

You screw up your nose. “According to some magazines we got married last week, and also six months ago. Just being in here is probably going to spark something.” You glance behind you, as if you’ll see journalists scribbling away on their theories, then flatten your palms against his chest, smoothing out his shirt. “I’m happy to ignore it. I want to just do our thing, H.”

He nods, pursing his lips, and gradually the crease in his forehead disappears. “Okay. Good.” Twin smiles spread over your faces and you have the feeling of being two giddy kids, high-schoolers about to have their first kiss. Something new, unknown, exciting, that the two of you are going into together. His eyes are practically sparkling at you. If this was a cartoon, you think his pupils would be shaped like hearts right now. Something is starting to bud and you can feel it growing up inside you and between you, preparing to bloom. 

“Alright,” you say, breaking the insulating silence to draw you both back to the real world. 

He blinks a couple of times as if he’s just waking up. “Alright,” he echoes. “Let’s get it.”

He waves over a man drifting through the store in a neat suit and points at the ring. “Excuse me, can we please have a look at this one?”

The two of you watch the man unlock the cabinet and slide the plate of rings out, placing it on the counter. He picks up the one Harry pointed out. “It’s a lovely one, sir.”

“It is,” Harry says. His hand finds yours and squeezes your fingers. “What size is it?”

The man checks the price and tells you, and your mouth drops open. Surely there is something supernaturally perfect going on, because it’s exactly your size. You and Harry look at each other incredulously. 

The man seems to notice your unspoken conversation, because he helpfully adds, “We can resize it if you need.”

Harry chuckles. “No, it’s perfect. I think…” he trails off, looking at you. “What do you think?”

You nod at him, grinning. You rub your thumb over the back of his palm as he tells the man, “Thank you. We’d like this one, please.”

You stand slightly behind him as he pays for it, flexing your hands and wringing them in front of you. You know it’s all in your head, but your left ring finger is tingling as if it senses that it’s missing a piece. You really just want to wear the ring at this minute, but when the man selling it to you offers, Harry shakes his head quickly. 

“I’ll hold onto it for now,” he says. He accepts the little box from the man and slips it into his pocket. “Thank you so much.”

“The pleasure’s all mine, sir. Enjoy it, and congratulations to the two of you.”

Harry snakes his arm around your waist as you walk back out to the street. His hips knock against you as he squeezes you into his side, and you can feel the little box in his pocket. You can’t help the grin that takes over your whole face. You worry you look like an idiot, smiling so widely at nothing, but when you glance up at Harry, he looks exactly the same.

Your car is parked down a quieter road and you get to relax a little once you’re away from the crowds of the main shopping strip. You can walk a little more slowly and Harry loosens up a bit. His hyper-vigilance starts to strip away. You can see the tension in his shoulders dissolving and here’s your Harry, emerging from his defensive layers. Most people wouldn’t notice this change, but you do. You feel how he adjusts the grip of his hand on your hip, how he leans into you a little more as you walk. In your closeness, you can smell his cologne and you think of how you watched him spray it on this morning—and how you’re going to be watching him do that for the rest of your lives.

He glances over his shoulder and you copy him. The narrow street behind you is empty, but you don’t get a moment to really register this before you feel his arms tighten around your waist and you’re swept off your feet for a second as he crashes his lips into yours.

You close your eyes, letting the kiss envelop all your senses. The sweetness of the cake’s icing lingering on his lips; his arms locked around your waist, holding you up; the rapid beating of your heart. He pulls away slowly and your eyes flutter open. His face is just inches from yours and he’s looking at you with such intensity you feel naked. Not for the first time, you’re in awe of how impossibly green his eyes are; you could make a palette from every forest in the world, and it wouldn’t hold a candle to what you see in front of you right now.

“Y/N,” he says. He cracks a grin. “I’m so fucking happy.”

Your reply is simply to grab him by the back of his neck and pull him in for another kiss. Your hand tangles in his hair and you feel his tongue running along your bottom lip before he pulls away again quickly.

“Fuck,” he says, sounding lost for breath. “Need to stop before I make a fool of m’self in public.” He even physically takes a step back from you, his eyes comically wide.

You giggle. Your gaze travels down his body and you notice the indent of the box in his pocket. “Is that a ring in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

He shakes his head at you. “You’ve gone all giddy. ‘M getting you home right now and then we’re celebrating properly.” He turns around and starts walking towards the car, his long legs carrying him faster than you can keep up.

Your stomach flutters imagining what his idea of celebrating might be. Suddenly, the only thing on your mind is getting back to your house as soon as humanly possible. You run after Harry, skipping around in front of him and jogging backwards as you waggle your fingers in his face. “So, when are you going to pop the question?” you ask.

“Oh, honey,” he says, patting his pocket with the ring. He grins. “It’s going to be when you least expect it, I’ll promise you that.”

.                               .                           .                               .                           .

thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed—if you did, a reblog or a message is really encouraging and lovely for me to see!! the title is taken from the song by etta james.

this fic is the first part of a series called “here we are in heaven,” and i’m really really excited about it. you can read my earlier fic, at last!, if you want to see where this will end up, but there will be more parts to fill the in-between. plus blurbs and stuff! let’s chat about it! 

my masterlist can be found here. have a beautiful day!

[wrenhyperfixates]

We Make a Pretty Good Team

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: It’s game night at the Avengers Tower, and you find the perfect partner in Loki. Warnings: ‘tis but fluff A/N: Just another self-indulgent, fluffy story. Hope you enjoy :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02​​ @frostedgiant​​ @lunarmoon8​​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​​ @lokistan​​ @lowkeyorlokificrecs​​ @gaitwae​​ @whatafuckingdumbass​​ @castiels-majestic-wings​​ @kozkaboi​​ @cozy-the-overlord​​ @birdgirl90​​ @myraiswack​​

Disclaimer: Gif not mine 

“First Saturday of the month. You know what that means,” Tony hollered to the Avengers scattered about the Tower.

“Yes!” Thor boomed. “Be prepared to lose.”

“Funny,” Clint laughed with a roll of his eyes. “I was just about to say the same thing to you.”

“What is happening?” you asked, somewhat bewildered, as the heroes came into the room. “What’s significant about Saturday?”

“Oh my gosh, that’s right. You just missed the last one. Every first Saturday of the month we have a game night,” Nat explained.

You’d been part of the team for just under a month, having officially joined on a Sunday. So, it was true that you’d yet to experience their apparently traditional game night. It sounded like a great deal of fun, though, especially because the Avengers had become your second family in the short time you’d known them. Well, you’d actually known Nat and Clint for years, since you all worked for SHIELD. In fact, they were a huge part of the reason you were an Avenger now. A few months ago there was a particularly dangerous crime ring, and they’d specifically requested you as backup. You’d clicked with everyone immediately and, numerous transfer papers later, here you were.

“Sounds exciting!” you told them. “What are we playing first?”

“Well actually,” Bruce said kind of sheepishly, “it’s not that I want you to sit out, but they’re all team games, and we don’t have an even number of people.”

“So we have a team of three,” Nat said, as if it were obvious.

“No way. That’s unfair,” Tony argued.

You bit your lip, feeling like maybe you were intruding on something you shouldn’t be a part of. It was their thing, after all, and perhaps there was simply no room for a newcomer. As they continued to bicker about whether one larger team mattered or not, you considered just slipping away. That’s when you noticed that there was someone missing.

“What about Loki?” you said. “He would make the numbers even.”

Much to your surprise, everyone burst out laughing. You nervously ran your sweaty palms on the legs of your pants and let out a small laugh, though you weren’t quite sure at what. Once their cackling died down, you dared to ask what was so funny.

“My brother never attends these games nights,” Thor informed you. “He isn’t one for group activities, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

“Well, have you ever invited him?”

“Once or twice,” Tony said. “Listen, if you want to try to make a social butterfly out of Reindeer Games, be my guest. In the meantime, we’ll work out a feasible way for us all to play.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed a little, standing up to go find Loki. It was honestly ridiculous that they still treated him the way they did. Sure, he likes to be alone sometimes, but that doesn’t mean he likes being lonely. Not that he’d ever actually admitted to you that he was, but you knew. It was blatantly obvious in the way he sent longing glances toward the rest of the team when you gathered together. You always made sure to ask him over, an invitation he usually accepted. Everyone else had laughed the first time you’d done that, too. They’d only ever asked him a few times, and it was right when he was new and still so lost, so alone, so afraid. Why they took that to just be his permanent disposition, you didn’t know. Regardless of how insensitive they were to his situation, your inclusivity had brought Loki out of his shell a bit, and a friendship had blossomed between you.

A short walk later, you reached his door. You stretched out a hand, but hesitated to knock. Doubt gnawed at the back of your mind. Maybe he truly was not a fan of board games, and then you’d be interrupting his night. After all, he must have a tradition of his own if this happens every first Saturday. Still, you knew that was usually not the case, and steeled yourself against the uncertainty.

“Hello, my little mortal,” he greeted you, opening the door. “Is everything alright?”

“No.”

“What is it? Are you ill? Hurt?” he questioned, jumping into action and shepherding you to his couch.

“No, nothing like that,” you laughed, though you were touched by his concern. “It’s just that it’s game night, and we don’t have an even number of people.”

“Oh? And I suppose that you are asking me to join,” he mused as you nodded. “I am not usually invited, and I am notorious spoiled sport, just ask Thor.”

“Well, people say a lot of things about you, and they’re usually not true.” He shrugged his shoulders. “You don’t have to play if you really don’t want to, but will you? Please. For me?”

“For you, my little mortal, anything. After all, how can I resist those puppy dog eyes?”

You giggled and led the way out of his room, ignoring the thumping of your heart when his hand accidentally brushed yours. Nat and Tony were still bickering about the teams when you arrived, but were quickly stunned into silence when they saw Loki.

“Brother! Good to see you’ve decided to join,” Thor greeted, breaking the somewhat awkward silence. “Shall we begin then?”

First up was Cranium, and you could tell that everyone else was divided into their usual teams: Tony and Bruce, Clint and Nat, Thor and Steve. You rubbed your hands in excitement, ready for some friendly competition.

“Yes!” you shouted a while later, after you and Loki answered the final question right. “We win!”

Everyone else’s jaw hung open, shocked by how serious of a competitor you were. Not to say you were mean-spirited or gloated or anything, but it was obvious you took game night very seriously. Loki was a little surprised too, but he relished in the infectious energy of your feisty spirit. Not to mention he absolutely loved to be on the winning team.

“Congratulations, guys,” Steve said. “Don’t expect to get as lucky in the next game, though.”

The next game, apparently, was charades, which you and Loki absolutely dominated again. The two of you worked as a well-oiled machine, guessing the simple ones like sewing and the more obscure ones like whale watching with ease. Loki was also surprisingly knowledgeable about Midgardian movies and literature. The two of you high fived, having just edged out the competition.

“Wow, good job guys,” Nat congratulated. “Tony and Bruce usually win that one.”

“Way to rub it in,” Tony groaned, flopping back on the couch.

You could tell a part of him wanted to accuse Loki of cheating but, having no real evidence and not wanting to start a fight, restrained himself. Instead, he contented himself with just mumbling how much of an outrage it was. You, however, were on cloud nine.

As the next game was set up, Loki pulled you onto his lap, instilled with confidence after his latest wins. Of course, if anyone were to ask, he would just say he was saving room on the couch. It would have, though, been a lie.

“Ready for a clean sweep, my little mortal?” he whispered, his breath surprising cold on your ear.

“Bring it on!” you whispered back with a wink.

The last game of the night was Pictionary, and by now everyone knew you and Loki were the team to beat. Unfortunately for them, you got this win, too. The Avengers let out a collective sigh as you shouted a victorious whoop and hugged Loki.

“Good game everyone,” you said, starting to help clean up.

“What are you doing, my little mortal?” Loki questioned, half joking. “Do you not know the losers have to clean up?”

“Not sure that’s actually a rule, Rock of Ages,” Tony grumbled.

“Fine, I’ll help,” he replied, placing a singular piece back in the box. “There. Now it is time for our victory lap.”

Then he scooped you up bridal style using his superhuman strength and began running you around the Tower in his arms, both laughing the whole time. He finally brought you to a stop on the balcony of his room.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that right?” you said, still chuckling.

“Perhaps. But we deserved that after an excellent showing.”

“I guess so. As much as it pains me to admit it, we should probably go easy on them next time. We’ll just win one a night, ok?”

“That’s my little mortal,” he happily sighed, wrapping his arms around you. “Always looking out for others. Always looking out for me. Thank you for inviting me along tonight.”

“No problem. It was a lot of fun. We make a pretty good team.”

“Indeed.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, and you rested against Loki, whose arms were still wrapped around you. He felt more relaxed and happy than he had in a while. He knew he’d ask you out someday, but right now he was still too shy, this friendship still too new. One day he would, though, and he couldn’t wait to get there and to every day after.

[luendland]

Yu-Gi-Oh? I heard about them but never seen them. I heard great things about their anime, manga and the card games and some...not so nice thing about the card gamers community. What your opinion on it?

Do you have favourite anime? Mine is Bofuri and Ascendance Of A Bookworm so far since I haven't watch that many anime 😅

Another art related questions, how did you determine your art style? I still figuring out how drawing the 'human' ones work for me. Have to say I like the kind of leaves shape that I called 'hair' on my 'humans'

I would like to you more if you don't mind ☺️ I like how our interactions so far and I hope you do too 💙

Oh I had no idea about the gamer community! 😬I watched Yugioh as a kid but was too poor to buy any of the cards. 😅 I suppose the reason I fell in love with Yugioh is the same reason I fall in love with any other shounen anime: if you pour your sincerity and heart and soul into something, things will happen. Sometimes things don’t always work out - life is full of conflict, but with grit and tenacity, and some luck, you can eventually accomplish anything. That’s what I believe, at least. And it’s how I conduct myself (so much so that I said “fuck it”, quit my job in animation in LA, and moved back to my hometown to start my life over)

Ooohh!! Thank you for the anime recommendations! I’ve been out of the anime/manga scene in the recent years, but I’ll need something to fill up the empty void of silence when I finish my current binge of The Golden Girls lol.

My favorite anime, hmm? I’m gonna blend the line between manga and anime for a bit:

Ghost in the Shell: Innocence (film)

Every single damn thing Satoshi Kon made (films)

Red River by Chie Shinohara (manga)

Blade of the Immortal by Hiroyuki Samura (manga)

Real by Takehiko Inoue (manga)

I love so much other stuff, too, but I would say that these works influenced my art the most.

Art style. OH GOD ART STYLE. Sighhhhh, the conversation of art styles is a big one. I’ve struggled with this topic for years so I don’t necessarily have a cute, succinct, witty answer.

My personal journey with my “style” was always toxic. And it’s hard, starting out as an artist, to already have a specific style/voice. You don’t really have the mileage for it. It takes experimentation, failure, problem-solving, and sheer volume of work before you usually find the rhythm in your linework or a sense of shape design that defines you.

But we live in an age where it’s all about branding and image and as students we were all pushed straight from the get go in art school to find our voices ASAP. And I think in that high pressure environment, surrounded by so many different, unique, vibrant voices, I choked.

Even when I left art school and started my first gig in the industry, I didn’t really have a “style”. And that ate away at me. Imposter syndrome is a hell of a beast to battle. No matter what my supervisor said, I didn’t ever believe I was good enough.

But I kept going. As a story artist, I focused on training my gesture drawing, but I always loved oil painting. So I kept both up. I remember driving 3 hours one way to attend an atelier in San Diego to train with these amazing fantasy illustrators every Sunday. They taught me to slow down, to look - it was a different way to observe the world. There are so many veteran artists to learn from, and I did my best to chase them down and learn from them.

If I had to define myself, I would say that I draw like a painter. I’m sure my style will continue to shift as I absorb more and more of the world.

Gosh, this was long, I am so sorry 😬 Also - you do you, boo. If you wanna draw leaf-like hair, do it! Play! Have fun! Keep figuring yourself out. I support you!!

[peeterparkr]

perennial;tom holland|eleven.

chapter eleven: snapdragons & sunflowers (Vol. 1) 

↳ flower meaning: snapdragons: deception. sunflowers: unconditional love.

chapter summary: to ask for a kiss. 

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: fluff, angst, comedy, all in one, mentions or allusion to sex but not smut :), you’ll see, alcohol. 

You’ll hate me. 

word count: 11.2K

SOCIAL MEDIA BEFORE THE CHAPTER:

masterlist & profiles  

ten (Instagram): in which they share set pictures

ten (tweets & texts:in which the groupchats are…loud

previous chapter next chapter   perennial masterlist.

perfidy  ( series masterlist)

wanna be tagged?

So, please help me out I think tags aren’t working. So yes, hope you enjoy this :)

Y/N was made of the people she loved or once loved. Everyone is, really, but y/n probably made sure it showed.

 Like her habit for photography had come from her very own best friend, of the way she started watching cooking videos because of her other best friend and always read the ingredients on any of the food she ate. Her clothing style had come from her very own first boyfriend who had introduced her to the magnificent world of the 80’s.

Her love for 80’s movies had come from Louis introducing her every night to a different one, a new story, a new song, and honestly it was good he showed her to it, y/n found her one true love. Louis, really, had shown y/n a lot of things, like how to lie to see him at indecent hours, and how  And how Louis taught her that love doesn’t have to last and that sometimes people aren’t what we expect.  

How she loved pancakes because that’s what her mother used to make them every Sunday, and how she’d learned from her father that sometimes sitting outside in the grass on a sunny day could bring back happiness to us. 

How her grandma had taught her how to have a perfect poker face, and how her grandfather had shown her how to peel an orange in a ‘correct way’. 

 How she had started to drink her tea with lemon and honey because James had once given her one like that and it brought nice memories. And how James had told her that it’s okay to love, even when people tell you not to, you have to fight for your love, you shall never be afraid of who you love. And James teaching her that she should love for herself, for her own, and not having to share her feelings if she didn’t want to. 

How y/n had started to watch subtitled films because Timmy had shown her some hidden gems. Or how she had learned from Tim to enjoy little moments, like the sunrise if she ever had to wake up early, or how she opened the windows to listen to the rain splattering. Tim had taught her too much about life, like enjoying wasting time. 

Y/N was made, the most, of the people she loved the most. Like how she made pasta the way James had taught her to once when their parents had gone out and James was left in charge. 

Or how when she was sad she’d watch that movie her childhood friend had introduced her to, and how they didn’t talk now. How y/n had learned that music was a way of healing because of that same friend. 

Or how to make a story sound great with Harry, and how Harry had shown her songs that probably were her favorite ones. How Harry and her knew that they didn’t like tequila because of that one time, and how they had learned that mixing cranberry, and grape juice and vodka tasted great thanks to Sam’s idea. 

The way that Emma had taught her to use certain hair products, and how Emma had taught her that sometimes we have to sing out our feelings, and scream and shout. How Emma had taught her the importance of a friendship and having someone’s shoulder to cry on. That she didn’t have to be lonely. 

How when she kissed she usually liked to place her hands behind their neck because she’d done that on her very first kiss with Tom, or how she usually ate some of the chocolate chips when she baked cookies because Tom and her used to do that. She had learned how to wrestle from a very young age and beat Tom, and she had learned how to play with his hair in a way to make him smile. She had learned the meaning of a rose, when all her life she had never understood about it, Tom had shown her how to approach a dog, and Tom had taught her how to cuff her jeans in a cool way. Or the habit she’d picked from him of undressing the beer bottle when they were talking or how he opened it with the table. How Tom had taught her how to kiss, from their very first one to the last one, different kisses each time, how he’d taught her each and every kiss is a journey, a mystery. How she’d learned how to deal with heartbreaks and to fall in love all over again. And how she had learned that he’d come back to her. But really, how a heartbreak feels when it’s real. 

That’s who y/n was. All the beautiful things of the people she loved. 

But she was also the bad ones, unfortunately, because people shape us. Y/N was also made of the ugly parts, very ugly parts. 

One that stood out the most, she’d learned from Tom, from James, from her family, was to avoid talking. 

Everybody wanted to talk, everybody except y/n. She knew she was being immature, but she’d learned that from everyone around her, not to care if you don’t have to. But she was too overwhelmed, everyone had something to say about, except her. How could she talk if she didn’t know what she wanted? 

Tom, Harry, Emma, Tim, James, Sam, Cherry, Aunt Eliza, even Josh and Clark.  

Everybody wanted to talk. She didn’t. 

She had caught on to what Tom was doing. She'd go along with it, he was the only one she wanted to talk to, honestly. 

And Emma, because she knew Emma didn’t judge her, Emma understood y/n, and Emma had been the only one who really didn’t tell her she was wrong. Even if Tim was her best friend, Ema understood that y/n’s heart belonged to Tom. 

“Clark is great, I may have fallen in love with him,” Emma had stated. 

Y/N nodded. “He’s great, I—“

“Why didn’t you know?” Emma asked. 

“I did know. But I didn’t—James was—you know how I’ve only dated three guys?” Y/n asked, she was putting on makeup, she had a date. 

“Yeah.” 

“James is exactly the opposite, he’s dated like half the gay population his age in London,” y/n scrunched her nose, as she was choosing between lipsticks.. “So I just—Never paid attention to any guy he dated because I never thought it was serious.” 

“Are you talking to him now?”

“I did today, only because of Clark,” y/n admitted, giving up on the lipsticks and instead choosing to work on her hair. “James is still angry I am in love.” 

“Not angry at that, you know that,” Emma pointed out. 

“Is it that wrong I am so in love with Tom?” Y/n left the brush on the table as she turned to look at Emma. 

“It’s completely bollocks y/n, but then again,” Emma sighed, “I wish I could be more like you and just love—I mean and I also wish Harry wasn’t so scared okay? He’s just so bloody scared, I wish he’d just say hey, Emma, d’ya fancy to go for a stroll? But no, we are both so… Gosh, I wish we were more like you and Tom, throwing everything down the drain.” 

“We are-” 

“You are, y/n,” Emma rolled her eyes. “He blows your mind and you basically want to yell it to the world, and he gets you all stupid, and you’re happy again, that’s alright, though-” 

Emma was laying down on y/n’s bed, her feet up against the wall, as she was nibbling on a popsicle. 

“Yes, I know, we have to talk,” she sighed. 

“Who says it has to be right now?” Emma had said. “Right now you barely have time to think, and I see you all happy and giggling, and besides, talking doesn’t have to be dramatic.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“It’s just… I don’t get it why James wants it to be dramatic, it’s just hey, you guys love each other, what else is there to know?” 

Y/N nodded, turning back to the lipsticks. 

“You do have to tell him you know about Cherry, though, which-” 

“Yeah, n, no, but I get it,” y/n sighed.

“Which, I love you’re ignoring, just pretending like she doesn’t exist, ” Emma laughed. “She just arrived yesterday, didn’t she?” 

“She did,” Y/N sighed. “Ugh, I don’t want to see her and she wants to talk, what does she want to talk about? We’ve never cared about each other before, met her like three times growing up because my mum and hers didn’t get along, which by the way, I’m scared James and I are headed in that same direction.” 

“You won’t,” Emma said. “James loves you too much to ever leave you.” 

“You never know,” y/n said. “Besides that’s not my point, my point is why does she want to talk? We have nothing in common!” 

“Dunno, you’re blood related and you both rode the same dick, seems like you’ve got a lot in common.” 

Y/n closed her eyes as she forced a laugh, “Emma!” 

“I’m just saying, y/n, that’s why you and I became close, we’ve both kissed the same two guys.”

“It’s different,” Y/N scoffed. “I—just don’t want to see her okay? Because I know I’ll be reminded of every single insecurity I have,” she admitted. “Because I know that the moment I see her I’ll get just so anxious, you know? She’s so pretty, and she’s so perfect and from what-” 

“From what I’ve gathered from Eliza, she’s also a mess,” Emma added. 

“That’s an issue, that’s Tom’s type, just look at me,” y/n laughed as she stared at a bright red lipstick. 

Emma scoffed. “Oh, hadn’t thought about that, Tom’s into messy girls with your genes.” 

“It’s so fucked up, though,” y/n said, as she looked up at the wall, she needed to change the flowers, they were drying out. She hadn’t changed them in a while. 

Emma shrugged, “considering how small his brain is, he probably thought it would feel the same way if he closed his eyes.” 

“As if it would,” y/n replied cockily, finally choosing a light pink, changing it up a bit, she’d always used bright red lipsticks with Tom,  “I’ve known him his whole life, and now I’ve—“she cleared her throat. “ I know exactly how to work him up.” 

Emma let out a loud and long laugh. “I can tell, Jesus, what did you do to him to have him oh, so mesmerized? Are you a sex goddess or why are those two men so bloody entranced by you?”

Y/N blushed and shook her head laughing. “You’re an idiot.” 

“How do you really feel?” Emma wondered, getting the conversation back as serious as it was supposed to be. 

“I don’t know,” Y/N admitted, she was still on some pair of pjs. “I… I’ve been talking with Tom, or…” She rolled her eyes. “He’s found a way to talk, and I think it’s worked out for both of us.” 

“Oh, what is it?” Emma sighed. 

Y/n walked over to her closet, it felt so weird to choose something to wear, Tom had warned her to be casual, something her style, something very her. 

“We use the script so we can… I guess we’re projecting it all, and well, I think he’s been understanding about it, and I think I’m starting to understand his point of view, about Tim at least.” 

“Please, I don’t need to listen to him to know why he feels that way,” Emma pointed out. 

“Really?” Y/n turned back to Emma as she was choosing between them. 

“I like the red one,” Emma suggested. “But please, y/n,” Emma scoffed. “Timmy was the one who stole his chance, Timmy was the one who got the girl when he had fucked up and everyone around Tom said it, we’ve all said it at some point, Tim is perfect for you.” 

“But—“

“and besides, Timmy was the one-” 

“The one who opened the door when Tom came to apologize,” y/n finished Emma’s sentence as she sat down hugging the red dress Emma had suggested. 

Emma frowned. “What?” 

“Guess Timmy had secrets, too,” y/n said.

Emma seemed confused. 

“He never told me about it, how Tom had come a second time, and…” She sighed. “I mean I guess I’m thankful he didn’t but I’m… I’m only wondering—“

“Oh, back when you first started dating,” Emma recalled. “He did tell me about it, and I.. was the one to advise him not to  tell you.” 

Y/N gulped. 

“Would you have run back to Tom?” Emma wondered, embarrassed. “Honestly I told him not to because—Well, I had asked Harry about it, you know? Harry had said you hated each other and that you had been avoiding Tom for a while now. That you were enemies.” 

“We were.” 

“And I mean—Back then, you really hated him.”

Y/n nodded. “Yeah, I did.” 

“So I told Tim not to tell you about it, because I thought—I didn’t know the background but I thought Tom was going to—hurt you, you know? And I guess, we all did, and we all kept that mentality even when he wasn’t trying to.”

“Yeah.” 

“Wow, I’ve never thought about that,” Emma nodded. “Even when I knew you were dating back in New York, we were just waiting for it, for Tom to—“

“Yeah, for Tom to pull a Tom,” y/n ended the sentence. “And I mean—He kind of did, but it was my fault.” 

“Tom really sabotages himself, it seems.” 

Y/N reached out to hug her frog, she was thankful James had brought it, “he does, but because he’s expected to, you know? Maybe that’s why— I haven’t brought it up because I’m not—I’m not expecting the heartbreak this time, and I know bringing up the whole Cherry thing is looking for it,” y/n explained. “I trust him this time, and he really wants to make it work out.” 

“Would you have gone back to him? Had Tim told you he had showed up?” Emma questioned. 

Y/N breathed in heavily. “Dunno,” she said. “I was so heartbroken back then, I thought— and I had promised myself back then I would never fall back for him, and… I mean, I had even thought I would never love again because that’s how dramatic it was, I really didn’t want to see him, that heartbreak is what led to all this mess, you know?” She explained. “Now Tom knows that, I think he really understands it, and he feels guilty and I mean, I was angry when Tom told me about it, because… Tim, well he didn’t know back then, he just was too sure that Tom loved me but—After learning all of this? Tim should’ve told me, because just now, learning it, I guess it changed a lot of things, not that it erased anything, but I lived all this time thinking he hadn’t… He really hadn’t cared, and it took him a lot of time, still, but he had tried to apologize again, and Tim keeping it to himself knowing that what broke me the most was that Tom had never shown up? Tim keeping it to himself is just—so selfish.” 

Emma bit her lip. “He’s still in love with you.” 

Y/N remained quiet. 

“I mean, you can’t blame him,” Emma said. “You guys were… I mean before Tom, you really seemed to be hitting it off, I thought you’d end up dating again.” 

“I did, too, at some point,” y/n admitted. “But-” 

“But you love Tom, I know,” Emma shrugged. “No but… Y/N you also, have to acknowledge it, you can’t keep playing with Tim which-before you say anything, I mean it’s also on him, he knew it, but then again, I… I believed it at some point y/n, that you were going to get back together with him because… The way you looked at him just… and it was just—” 

“I know, I know and I thought… I don’t know, okay?” y/n admitted as she sat up. “I… It’s cause I never… I had closure with Tim, alright? I gave him the ring back because I thought, I know it, I want Tom, okay? It’s Tom, yes, it’s Tom.”

“But?” 

Y/n sighed, “Timmy—alright as I said before, I had said I would never love again after the whole Rome thing,” she cleared up. “And then Tim came along and just showed me this beautiful life and taught me how to love again, and I—He became a very special part of me.” 

“Yeah, and? That doesn’t explain your flirting.” 

“I didn’t—flirt.” 

“Well you answered to his flirting,” Emma pointed out. 

“We were—“

“You guys were flirting y/n!” Emma replied quickly, slightly stressed. “You guys don’t flirt like everyone else! Your flirting style with each other was by showing each other songs and him watering your plants, y/n! You were basically having sex with each other,” Emma rolled her eyes. 

Y/N stayed quiet. 

“But I know, Tom, Tom—“

Y/n gulped. “Yeah, Tom.” 

Emma watched y/n, confused. “Why are you acting like it’s the last time?” 

“What?” 

“Like it’s your last chance with Tom.” 

“I...don’t know, because what if it is, you know? It’s… stupid, we’ve had plenty of chances and… Last time, I just… Had I known it would lead to that. I know it’s my fault, and like we’ve both blown it up so it’s—“

“Neither one of you will fuck up.” 

“I know—But Tom… We are trying and I’m happy but I feel-” 

“Y/N you are pretending, I know, you won’t be happy until you talk about it with him.” 

She sighed. “I know, and we’ve been talking and I…” She coughed. “I really want to try it out.” 

“But…?”

“Am I allowed to forgive something like that? Am I even allowed to get angry about Cherry?”

Emma sat up as well. “Y/N, had he slept with anyone else I wouldn’t be so sure but that’s your cousin, that’s fucked up and-” 

“What if he finds out about Tim?” 

Y/N grabbed the pillow that had once been under her head and proceeded to get it in her face and scream into it. 

“Wait, I’m… I’m gonna try that,” Emma laughed, doing the same. 

Both of them were screaming into the pillows, pitying their sorrows and problems. 

Timmy had walked in. 

“What the hell?” He asked. 

Emma was the only one to peak her head out of it. “It’s therapeutic.” 

Timothee had only chuckled. “I bet.” 

Y/N had stopped screaming but kept the pillow over her face. She didn’t know how she felt about Tim, there was no point in being angry at something from the past, but it did change a lot of the way she saw him, maybe he had forgotten. But Tim was never one to forget, he was observant and he was quiet, and he was all about the stories. 

“Um, y/n?” Tim said. 

Emma watched Tim, and the small object he had in his hand. She shot him a warning glare, scared of the inside. 

“Yeah?” y/n answered from her pillow which now had a nice stain of makeup on it. 

“Can I talk to you?” He asked. 

Another person wanting to talk, what was it with everybody wanting to say words and listening and whatever? Y/N thought to herself. 

Though Timmy hadn’t asked for it yet, she knew it, but he hadn’t really said it, not the whole y/n we should talk. 

She wanted to say no, but she knew that she couldn’t keep doing that. Counting the days until it finally had to blow up, and then end up with bruises, no, she didn’t have to do that. 

She finally let the pillow down, “Yeah, sure,” she said before walking out of her room. 

“Sure, leave Emma behind,” Emma pointed out. 

“I… well,” Y/N looked at Tim. 

“It’ll be quick, darling, Emma dear,” Tim assured her. 

Emma rolled her eyes. “It never is with you both.” 

Tim rolled his eyes before leading the way outside of the apartment, y/n frowned, asking him to wait up so she could put on her sneakers, still wearing her pj’s. 

“So your birthday is tomorrow,” Tim had said as they had walked out, he had sat on the stairs. 

She chuckled as she sat beside him. “Yeah.” 

“You look really pretty,” Tim had said. 

“These pj’s really accentuate my features huh,” y/n joked. 

“Your makeup looks pretty and hair, idiot,” Tim chuckled. 

She only gave him a sad smile. 

“So, what are your plans?” He asked. 

“For… tonight? I’ve got a date,” she explained.

“No, tomorrow.” 

She shrugged. “Tom’s got some plans, apparently, he hasn’t told me anything about it, honestly I don’t… I don’t want to…” 

“What?” 

“Do anything you know? I will be too tired after filming, and I… I just feel like… Dunno, James and Clark will be there and I don’t want to talk to James still, and apparently Cherry invited herself, too so… And you’ll be there, and Harry and Emma… and Josh, and I just... ” She chuckled. “I’ve got a bad feeling.” 

“Why?” 

“Dunno, seems like a perfect combination for disaster.” 

“I met Cherry today,” he admitted. “Well, we’d met before but-Yeah, I thought you’d be at the flower shop. “And she was there, instead.” 

Y/N scrunched her nose. “Yeah I know she’s there, that’s why I haven’t gone there,” she explained chuckling shyly. 

“Why?” 

“Because then I’ll start feeling insignificant, because let’s face it and don’t you dare say no, but she’s really… Pretty, like she’s everything a girl would want to be and I’m jealous of her,” she admitted, truthfully. “I’ve never been the jealous kind but with her, I feel like—Of course anyone would choose her over me, and don’t—Say anything okay? I just feel that way. And if I see her I’ll be reminded of the elephant in the room waiting to be addressed, and I… If the conversation about you went wrong I don’t want to know how that-” 

“About me?” 

“Yeah,” she looked down. “Dunno.” 

Tim bit his lip. 

“How did he-?” 

“I don’t want to talk about that, Tim,” she quickly answered. “I can’t blame him for feeling the way he feels and that’s on me, too, I mean… I… really.” 

“What?” 

She looked down. “I— well, I don’t…know alright? If I feel anxious about Cherry I can only imagine how he feels about you, no, I can’t even imagine it, and look Tim, I—you know you’re very important to me but I’m… I’m dating… Or whatever is going on now, but It’s Tom right now, alright? And I know it’ll be for a long time.” 

“I know.” 

She looked at him, confused by his statement because it really didn’t feel like he knew it.. “And I don’t… want you to think there is an open door or-” 

“Y/N, I know,” he said. “Yeah, I know it’s Tom, now.” 

“But it’s not just—“

“I know,” Tim looked away. “I know.” 

She looked down. “I’m sorry.” 

“Just….” He took a deep breath. “I know it’s him, but that doesn’t… I mean, we’ve been friends, and I—I just ask you not to push me away, alright? I don’t know how I’d live without y/n in my world, and if having you around means having you with him, then I just have to deal with it, move on you know? And I know we are friends, so this is… This comes from your friend, Timmy.” 

She smiled, just slightly, very timidly. It hurt, hurting him but of course, keeping him around meant jeopardizing her relationship with Tom, and she really didn’t want to give it more excuses. 

“Timmy,” she sighed. 

He smiled. “I’m serious, it’s alright, no… no resentment, alright? We both know we… I don’t…you know it, I’ll always love you, but we—I mean you—you love someone else and it’s be stupid of me not letting you love him, that is just pathetically selfish. And don’t get me wrong, it hurts like a bitch…. Yeah, I know it, but… I don’t want to lose you, I am not stupid… but I also… I know that if I give this to you tomorrow, Tom will lose it and I… don’t want that, so I’m giving you this, today.” 

He pulled out a film canister. And it felt like one of those times when life likes to punch you with reality. She felt a fear deep inside her stomach. Last time he’d given her one of those an engagement ring was hidden in it. 

“It’s… It’s not what you think,” Tim rolled his eyes. “Oh, you really thought I’d propose again?�� 

She let out a soft chuckle. “No--I… I mean,” I’m-I didn’t think you would-” 

“Your face,” He chuckled softly. “Yeah, no, I… I’m…” 

“Yeah, just last time you gave me one of those-” 

“Yeah, and look where it led us, I’m not… I wouldn’t… No,” Timmy laughed. “No, it’s not… and—do you really think I’m the type of guy to propose on a bad time—-Actually don’t answer that,” he chuckled. “Okay, open it.” 

She grinned, and took the film canister from him. “Man I hope it’s an iPad,” she joked, warning a laugh from Tim. “No, you—you shouldn’t have.” 

She shook it just slightly, listening to no sound coming out from it, before finally opening, carefully. “A…there’s nothing?” She asked. 

“Yeah,” Tim laughed. “I know.” 

She frowned, confused but then chuckled. “I love it… I hope I… can get to wear it soon,” she joked. 

“It couldn’t fit there, but I—Well, you know, we had that tradition, ,” he said before finally giving her the box that sat beside him. 

She took the box and smiled, opening it, an old vintage Polaroid camera stood there. 

“I know you’ve—I think it works, it’s—It’s an original, I've noticed you haven't really taken any Polaroids, and I know you love them,” he coughed. “So, yeah, happy birthday.” 

Y/N had only looked up, giving him a true smile. 

“Thank you, I love it!” 

But of course, the timing could not have gone any worse. Tom had arrived. Y/N had momentarily  forgotten she had agreed to spend the night with him, nothing too serious but Tom had insisted because he had a surprise for early in the morning and he’d come pick her up for dinner and then she’d stay with him. 

Maybe she should’ve seen the trouble coming. 

Tom cleared his throat loudly, “hello,” he said, standing with sunflowers. Yellow flowers with pretty meaning, y/n thought. 

Y/n looked up, calmly, knowing that if he saw any hint of her freaking out it would blow it up because his mind would go places.

“Oh hi!” She grinned. “sorry—I’m not—“

Tom clenched his jaw at Tim, but then turned to y/n and chuckled, “Darling,  when I said casual—I didn’t—“

She chuckled nervously standing up. “Sorry, I—“she squeezed her eyes shut. “I was discussing with Tim something about some pictures he’s planning on—yeah,” she lied, as she hid the film canister and box behind her back. 

“Yeah,” Tim said, clearing his throat, standing up as well. “Hello, Thomas.” 

“Tim.” Tom was nervous already, y/n could tell. 

“Are those for me?” Y/n questioned staring at the flowers  before they could say another word to each other. 

Tom chuckled between his teeth, “yeah, they’re most certainly not for Tim.” 

“Oh,” Tim said, “and here I was getting excited about them.” 

Tom faked a very quiet laugh and then turned to y/n. “So? Don’t get me wrong, you literally look so beautiful—but—“ He smiled looking down at her clothing. 

“Yeah—right!” She excused herself, not forgetting to kiss his cheek, before running back to her room, where Emma was waiting with the red dress and had pulled out some heels for her. 

Emma  walked out of the room, “hello, Tom, long time no see,” she said with sarcasm. 

“I know, these couple hours have been long,” Tom joked back, as he had walked in. 

Tim had followed after. It felt so tense, Emma could swear she could cut the tension with a knife. 

Emma hummed a fake laugh. “There are flower vases over there, you can guess which ones are y/n’s now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna steal Tim from you just a bit, I hope you don’t miss him as much.”

Emma had dragged Tim to her own room. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Emma snapped. 

“A lot of things,” Tim answered. “But let’s not go there, please.” 

“Oh don’t play that with me, I know exactly what you’re doing, and Tim—“

“I’m not—“

“Don’t fucking pull the whole I’m not doing anything bullshit with me,” she rolled her eyes. “I know exactly what you’re doing, and I’m sure you gave her the Polaroid today, really? Exactly when you know she’ll go on a date with Tom? And you take her to the stairs? So he can see it right?

Tim clenched his jaw. “I—Well.” 

“Sabotaging her relationship is not the way to go, Tim,” Emma warned him. “And I—I just told you—Best thing you could try is...move on, alright? I know you love her and that she was—She seemed perfect for you, and I still think you guys worked so well together but… She is so in love with him, and by doing this you’re only hurting her more—Besides, really Tim, you know her better than this,” she pushed. “I—“ Emma sighed. “I'm telling you this because I love you, I don’t want to sound harsh but—“She closed her eyes. “I know she is confused, and making her even more confused won’t help you, let her settle it, let her have it right now.” 

Tim didn’t say anything and just walked out of the room. He had gone to his room and unfortunately had left his door open to see y/n walking out on a red dress to run over excitedly to Tom, who had pulled her close to him to kiss her cheek and smell her perfume. 

Timmy knew Emma was right, y/n was in love with him. So, very deeply in love. And it hurt, seeing her. And Timmy asked for more patience, or for more time, or strength to move on. 

It felt weird, Tim felt lonely and broken hearted, and he just missed her, and it was stupidly incredible that she lived right there in the same apartment. He knew she loved Tom, that was it but it…. It still didn’t make any sense. Honestly, it felt like they were completely strangers. 

Especially y/n, she really felt like a stranger, even to Tom it seemed. She seemed too… distant to everyone.

Tom felt it, too. He felt that y/n was just off, even if she was happy or tried to be and even if she was kissing his cheek, she was being… different. And Tom only wanted to get over with it, the awkwardness. 

And he wondered if she wanted to get over with it, too. 

They went out for dinner, not in the place where she’d imagine Tom would take her, it was a nice dinner place with lightbulbs hanging around, a flower in a glass bottle, candles around, very… cozy, and romantic, and they were talking about barely anything, and maybe for a bit it felt like they were each other again. 

Y/N knew this, she felt weird with herself, as if even when she seemed to be saying what she wanted to say, she really wasn’t saying what her heart wanted, but as if her own heart was keeping secrets. It felt like Tom didn’t know her, though. And it had never felt that way before, but it felt like they were both trying to get to know each other again. Because neither of them were being themselves, not entirely. 

“So, you were clearly not talking about pictures with Tim,” Tom had mentioned. 

y/n looked at him and nodded. “Yeah, I wasn’t….”

“So?” Tom seemed anxious about it. 

“He gave me a birthday present, a…he gave me a polaroid,” she cleared up. “A vintage, original one.” 

“Oh, that’s cool,” Tom nodded, and gulped. “As long as he doesn’t give you a ring.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Tom.” 

Tom shrugged. 

“I… told him,” she cleared her throat. “That well… it’s you.” 

“It’s me?” Tom wondered, and a smile came to his face. “What am I?” 

She rolled her eyes, chuckling softly. “An idiot, that’s what you are.” 

Tom chuckled. “Uh-huh, I am, and what else?” 

She blushed. “Nothing.” 

Tom hadn’t pushed it any further. Their conversation kept flowing. Talking about them. What made them so… them. 

“I remember that everyone was in love with this one guy, ugh, what’s his name? The one that bullied you,” Y/N tried to recall. 

“Edward,” Tom remembered. “He was so big.” 

“Well, everyone had a crush except me, because well, I was the idiot, you know?” 

“You loved that scrawny guy who-” 

“Adorable guy,” she added. 

“Scrawny guy,” he continued. “Who did ballet and everyone crushed on Edward, who-” 

“I actually was… dating Louis back then,” she recalled. “But…” She chuckled. “But my point is… I was the one who… hid a rat in his car.” 

“No way!” Tom’s eyes popped as he leaned over. “You’re kidding.” 

“I… Look, nobody could be an asshole to you unless it was me, that was-” She was nervous. “I was so angry at everything he said at you, I…” She rolled her eyes. “And I… genuinely don’t know.” 

“Where in this bloody world did you get a rat from?” He wondered. “I mean thank you but I didn’t think you’d-” 

“Please I had experience from pranks for you so of course…” She gulped, hiding a laugh. “I...Well, there was a rat in Louis' house, and well they trapped it and instead of… you know killing it I… well told Louis to break into Ed’s car and I hid the rat there.” 

Tom was shocked. “And that was because of me?” 

“No, I hated Ed,” she looked away. “He was the biggest asshole.” 

Tom grinned. “Are you sure? Because I remember that rat incident being right after he had hit me in the hall.” 

“Really?” y/n coughed. “I wouldn’t remember,” she blushed looking away. 

“Which actually brought attention to me, they said it had been me!” He recalled. “I got into detention.”

Y/N grinned. “Yeah, killed two birds in one shot,” she smirked. 

“I’m serious did you-?” 

“Yeah, maybe I did it for you, okay? Whatever, yes, I had feelings for you and I was angry someone else was taking away my job, let’s remember we were enemies back then, alright?” She was nervous. 

Tom smirked. “You had a crush on me.” 

“Shut up,” she chuckled. “You had a crush on me, too.” 

Tom shrugged, smiling. “Yeah, I did. I’m not trying to hide it.

Y/N avoided his gaze, not believing he was actually making her feel butterflies, even after all this time, she was still nervous. In a good way. She wasn’t always nervous, most of the time, she didn’t, she felt so calm around him, but on the edge, as if she didn’t need to worry about being herself but expectant of each other’s attitude. 

Tom watched her, “Why do I always feel like there’s always something on your mind?” 

“Because there is,” she laughed. “Don’t you?” 

“No, I’m dumb, remember? I can actually blank up my mind,” he smirked. “Or well, not at all. There is a constant on my mind,” he had reached for her hand. 

“Oh?” her eyes had brightened up, a timid smile on her face. 

“Yeah, Spiderman,” he joked, earning a glare from y/n. 

It was so stupid. But they were… back being them. Probably because they were alone. As if someone was brushing y/n’s dream, and she couldn’t get enough of him, his laugh was her everything. She couldn’t help but sigh and run out of breath, and never stop blushing, there was no doubt about it. And she had once thought about it, ‘the day that Tom loves me, the world will party’. She had been wrong, the world wasn’t partying, and there were no flowers blooming and no fireworks. The world instead, stopped, as if it was them and only them. The stars were probably jealous of them seeing them shining even more brightly than them. 

“You know, from the moment we met,” he had said. 

“When we were kids, you mean?” She chuckled . 

“Truly met,” Tom gulped. “Rome, I mean.” 

She blinked. “Yeah.” 

“I… Why didn’t you kiss me?” He asked. 

“Hm? When?” 

“That one night, you know the one, lovely evening, I remember I asked for a kiss,” he recalled. “And… you said and I quote: ‘No, Thomas, don’t ask for a kiss’.” 

She looked away, remembering. “Because I didn’t want you to ask for it.” 

He frowned. 

“It’s silly but that’s the way I am, I didn’t want you to ask for it, I was clearly begging for one,” she explained. “I wanted you to… do it. One should never ask for a kiss, or not… verbally.” 

“How so?”

“I mean certain contexts,” y/n said. “But that night? I thought I had hinted it enough 

“So you did want me to kiss you,” He grinned. 

“Of course!” She beamed. “I—it’s not secret by now that I—“she cleared her throat. “Well, enjoy when our lips come together.” 

“Oh, so you enjoy that?” He mocked. 

“Very much so,” she answered shyly. “And—it had been the perfect evening! It would’ve cost you nothing,” she smiled. 

“Cost me nothing,” he laughed. 

“I think you’ll find that kissing me is quite cheap,” she pointed out.

He scrunched his nose. “That’s a lie.” 

“No, no, I was the one who could lose there,” she sighed.

 “No, y/n. Because kissing you costs a lifetime.” 

She scoffed. “How so?” 

“I kissed you once when I was 13 and never stopped thinking about it,” he said. “And after that evening.” 

“Would I have been so bad?” She questioned, “if we had realized it back then.”

“Think we did,” he said, “but you didn’t kiss me either.” 

“No, but—because you had asked for it.” 

“You’re right… I should’ve, but there’s a lot of things I should’ve done...still can’t believe it, how stupid I was,” he said. 

“It didn’t click you know,” she nodded. “When you broke my heart,” she continued. “I mean, the excuses you gave me… They didn’t make any sense.” 

Tom looked down. 

“And…” She sighed. 

“Would you’ve forgiven me? If I had come earlier?” He asked. 

She stared at him. “Maybe,” she admitted. “Probably, if I’m honest… I did wait for you to come again with yellow flowers, and I’d have my hand right in my heart, and I would wait for you to come and apologize and I would see it, you know, wait for you to stand up in the rain and said you didn’t mean it, and I… I was angry, alright? It was stupid letting my life pass by waiting for it besides the whole scenario...but then again, it wa shot and it’s still you and I’m—it’s silly.” 

“It’s not silly,” Tom said. “It’s you,” he took a deep breath, “and I knew you’d like that… kind of stuff, but when I finally realized it, it was too late.” 

“But it’s not late now,” she admitted. “We’re finally on time. And I’m glad I’ve always been so stubborn when it comes to you because otherwise we wouldn’t be here.” 

The evening had continued to flow, as both of them had become quieter, in a way that they didn’t need to talk to communicate, between whispers and giggles and hand brushing, it was all they needed. 

The ticking had stopped, y/n had noticed. It’d come, she knew but… God, when she was with him, she didn’t have to worry about anything. Because it seemed that it was made for them, all her doubts disappeared because he was the answer she needed. It was them against the world. 

They hadn’t talked about Valerie and William, not that night. It was Tom and y/n,.

They hadn’t kissed. Tom had ceased the kissing when James had arrived, which y/n hated, she missed his lips so much her own were begging for them. She wouldn’t ask for it. Never ask for a kiss, not out loud. 

She was wearing his jacket back on their way, he had said: ‘I wasn’t cold but I knew you’d be so that’s why I brought it’. Her hand was on his hair as he drove, listening to music, windows down as they hummed the lyrics, and as y/n stared down at the lights the city was giving her, her hair flying. 

She was sad, though, Tom hadn’t even tried to lean over and kiss her, not even seeing a hint of him trying to do so. 

They had walked in, the guys seemed to be all too invested in a video game, all except for Clark who was rather interested in playing with James’ hair as y/n’s brother yelled at the screen. He looked up when seeing them walk in, he smiled at the sight of y/n’s shoulders being covered by Tom’s jacket. 

“Hello, you two,” Clark had greeted them. 

Tom peeked to see the screen, not letting go of y/n’s hand. 

“Hi,” y/n said, knowing she’d most likely lose Tom’s attention to the screen. 

“How did it go?” Clark asked.

“Bloody hell, Samuel!” James yelled. 

“Piss off,” Harry yelled, too. 

y/n chuckled. “It went well,” she said. 

“Well?” Tom lost focus of the screen, as he turned to her. “Well?” 

She ignored him and kept staring at Clark. “Can you believe the evening has gone by so splendidly but he still hasn’t kissed me?” 

Tom immediately blushed. 

“Good,” said James. “Kissing is gross.” 

“Is it?” Clark asked before kissing his cheek. 

James coughed. “Straight kissing is gross,” he corrected himself. 

Harry laughed. 

Sam scrunched his nose. “Why haven’t you kissed her? you usually bloody eat each other’s faces.” 

Harry scoffed. 

“Don’t you dare eat my sister’s face,” James warned. “Or anything for that matter.” 

“James,” y/n closed her eyes. 

Tom laughed. “We’re gonna…” 

“No, why don’t you guys stay? We were about to play Mario Kart” Offered James. “So why don’t you both play with all of us, you know you can sit over there with your brother and y/n can sit over here, everyone’s happy.” 

“Jamey, love, don’t be a dick,” warned Clark. 

Y/N chuckled. “Fine, I want to play,” she admitted. 

“Great, mario kart is the real deal breaker between couples.” 

Of course, they hadn’t followed James’ instruction for their sitting arrangement, y/n had sat on the couch, and Tom had sat on the floor, resting his back against her. Y/N was still bothered by the fact she hadn’t yet been kissed that night, but she soon forgot it as it felt like one of those nights when they were younger, all of them playing and yelling at each other. 

Tom had left the room without any explanation at some point, but she was too busy trying to beat her brother at rainbow road to even notice. 

Time went by, and before she knew it, the lights had gone off, and they all had turned with a smirk as Tom had walked in with a cake with candles. 

‘Happy Birthday’ they all sang as she stared at the cake, pretty cake, sunflowers again. Tom kissing her cheek. 

It felt… like years ago, the Holland’s, James, and now Clark, too, of course it was Tom holding the cake now, not Harry, and now she didn’t have a wish, usually she’d plan ahead her birthday wishes, because that’s something James had taught her to. Instead, she wished for everything to keep flowing as easy as it could with Tom. Funny, how many birthday wishes had not involved him already. 

They had sat and ate cake like old times, y/n smearing some frosting to Tom’s cheek and then kissing it off, making the boy blush and getting James to glare at her. Laughing at each other, telling old jokes as y/n was laying against Tom, his arms around her and his lips brushing against her head. 

How many years had they not wasted by being enemies. 

Eventually, they had all gone to bed knowing the next day would expect them, except for Clark and James who had stayed in the kitchen. 

Tom and y/n had stayed on the couch. 

“So, I’m gonna be honest,” Tom had said as he had sat with her, he had left yet again to get something 

She only stared into his eyes, begging her with her sight to kiss her already. She should’ve probably wished for that, instead. 

“I—this wasn’t going to be your birthday present.” 

“You didn’t need to get me anything,” she said. 

He had sat up and pulled out a small box, he seemed nervous, but excited. The box… gave her shivers. But it couldn’t be. 

Y/n only smiled watching him, resenting her head against her palm. 

“I—back when,” he gulped, “back when I was still in London debating whether or not to direct dos-a-dos,” he continued. “I—well.” 

“Yeah?” 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you because—Well,” he grinned. “I am so stupidly in love with you.” 

She only blushed. 

“So—one day,” he gulped. “I went—Well, you know, to the mall and whatsoever, and—I saw this shop.” 

“Right.” 

“And so I bought a pair of boots for me,” he said, leaning against the couch, trying to recall. “They were very—nice, you know?” 

“Uh—huh,” she rolled her eyes. “And did you bring those boots to LA?”

“No, I didn’t,” he side eyed her, “should’ve, you would have loved them.” 

Y/n rolled her eyes giggling. “I bet.” 

“But anyway, after I bought the boots—I passed by that shop you like.” 

Y/n blinked. “Care to be more specific?” 

“The one with the vinyls, and vintage stuff,” he reminded her, but she looked down at the tiny box he was holding, it definitely wasn’t anything from that shop. 

“Oh, yeah, love that place,” she smiled. 

“Yeah, and I—went in,” he admitted. “And I couldn’t stop thinking about you, everything they had… so I—“

She just waited for him to continue. 

“I bought a fee vinyls for me, too,” he nodded seriously.

 Y/n bit her lip, holding back a laugh, “amazing, which ones did you buy?” 

“I bought a Beatles one… uh, Queen.” 

“Great choices,” she grinned. “I’m proud.” 

“And of course Rolling Stones, because I thought of you,” he said. 

Y/n scooted closer to him to gently run her hands through his hair, he couldn’t hide his smile. 

“And then—One day, I went out again,” he grinned. 

“Hm-hm?” 

He coughed, “yeah, and I walked again to that one other shop you like, the one with the clothes.” 

“With the clothes,” she laughed. 

“Yeah, you know the one,” he chuckled, avoiding her gaze. 

“And did you get in?” She asked. 

“No,” he grinned. “I went for an ice cream, you know, I was really craving one.” 

She stared at him, so mesmerized by him, even when he was being the silliest. “God, I love you,” she blurted out, without really thinking of it. That’s how it should be, realy. Nothing wrong with that. 

He finally locked his eyes with her and smiled, he took her hand in his and kissed it. “Yeah, so—“he grinned, “none of that has to do with your birthday present.” 

Y/n chuckled. “Really? I thought the birthday present would be seeing you with those boots and dancing with you to the music on those vinyls and eating ice cream.” 

“Ah, that would’ve been great huh,” he grinned staring into her eyes. 

“Would’ve loved that.”

“I actually did bring the vinyls,” he admitted. 

She kissed his temple. “Great, let’s play them—“

“Yeah, but—I haven’t finished,” he admitted. “I… Well, I've had a lot of time, you know? To reflect on—on the script, on us. But especially the script.” 

Y/n stared at the features on his face, fixating on the freckles on his nose as he kept talking. 

“So, I kept avoiding the script, even if I wanted to direct it because—Well, it was your dream, I remember and I think I’ll never forget how in Rome you told me your biggest dream was making a film of a ballerina,” he said. “I—well, and I wanted to read it, but I couldn’t because I thought—well, dunno, having something yet to read was something I still had to look forward to, you know? And so I kept listening to the vinyls because they reminded me of you, and I kept—trying to find you everywhere, alright?” He confessed. “On every single face and—The days just went by and I—eventually read it.” 

Y/n silently watched him. 

“And I fell in love with it, because—it’s you. The script is so—you, it was like reading an open book about you, and I don’t mean it in the way that it’s our story, like I genuinely—you really poured heart and soul in it, the songs you put in, the setting—and, well, it was really you, you know? I know you’ve always loved 80’s movies because they seem so ridiculous but so magical.“

Y/n chuckled nervously. “Where are you going with this?”

“I know it’s your biggest dream,” he sentenced. “And well—I’m sorry I didn’t get you a pair of boots like mine.” 

She laughed rolling her eyes. 

“And I didn’t get a vinyl.” 

“Tommy,” she nudged him. 

He only handed it to her, the small box. A very stupid and scary suspicion in her head had completely been erased as she picked the small box.

As she opened it, it revealed a necklace with a small pendant of a ballerina hanging from it. The brightest beam had appeared on y/n’s face. 

“I know you’ve—never liked the idea of someone giving you jewelry, especially bracelets or necklace because they don’t hold any meaning, but—I think—I know you’re not a dancer but, I think Valerie is your own special project, and—“Tom grinned. “I was saving it to give it to you on the premier but—“

“I love it, I...No, really this… This is perfect,” she whispered looking at it. Tom had once taught her that roses weren’t always basic. And Tom had now proven to her that this didn’t have to be either, because it was them, and it held such a special meaning to her. 

She leaned over to kiss his cheek, and he only smiled. 

“I was gonna give you a T—“

“As in Troy?” She mocked. 

“That’s exactly why I didn’t.”

She laughed. “I love it.” 

He looked deep into her eyes and she just waited for it… But he didn’t kiss her. 

“Yeah, so, let’s go to sleep,” he quickly stood up, letting her fall flat on the couch. 

“Thomas,” she hissed playfully. He had already left, and she could feel his smirk from afar, so she followed after him. 

“So, you can have my bed, I’m gonna leave to sleep on the couch because that was my agreement with James,” he explained, picking up his stuff as soon as she got to the room. 

She frowned. “No?” 

“Yes,” he replied cockily. 

“I’m not letting you leave until you bloody kiss me,” she replied. 

He paused and then turned with a proud smug smirk, “Then that gives me even more reasons not to kiss you.” 

She opened her mouth to complain, but really she was in such a state of shock that not a single word came out. 

“Goodnight love,” he grinned as he headed to the door. 

“Why are you like this?” She rolled her eyes, giggling. 

Tom took a deep breath before staring her down. 

“For the love of god, kiss me.” 

“No.” 

“Why not?” 

“One shall never ask for a kiss,” he replied smugly. 

“Are you kidding me?” She closed her eyes, not believing it. 

“No, you said it yourself,” he grinned. “Not verbally.” 

“Just shut up and come here, idiot,” she laughed before pulling him close to her, finally placing her lips on him. It felt like just the very first time, Tom and her had that magic, of making each and every kiss feel like they’ve never kissed before, so unique and so perfectly synchronized with each other. 

“Don’t you guys fucking dare to do anything,” James was just walking by with a glass of water. “People need to sleep.” 

Clark had mouthed an apology before following after. 

Y/n had pulled away and then smirked. “Want to prank him?” 

Tom had only given her a weird face. 

Y/N knew James was staying right on the next room, and that she definitely was not going to be able to do anything without him hearing, that of course, meant she could piss him off, to get back at him for being a dick. 

Y/N explained her idea to Tom, and he immediately accepted, with the sole condition to leave the door open so his life could actually be spared. 

Both Tom and y/n had settled in their places, sitting right on top of the bed, right against the headboard which was conveniently against James’ wall. 

And so they started.

Both of them repeatedly, and in perfect sync started, Tom hitting his elbows against the headboard, making sure the noise it made was perfectly identifiable as something else as y/n was jumping on the bed. 

A faint “no, no, no, no, fucking hell, no,”  had been yelled from the other room. 

Tom and y/n tried to hide in their laughter, but proceeded to make it even worse, adding dramatic moans and “oh yes!” “Y/n!” “Right there!” “Tommy!” In between. 

“NO FUCKING WAY!” Now it had been louder. 

“Jamey, love—“ 

Tom and y/n smirked and went in even louder, “yes!” “So tight!” “Harder!” “Yes, yes, yes, yes!” 

“No! No! No! No! Bloody hell y/n I’m in the bloody next room!” James yelled. “I’m gonna kill you, Thomas!” 

And then they heard the loud and quick stumping as James’ door was open as he ran to knock on y/n’s and Tom’s door, but instead, the door was wide open and he could see what actually was happening, Tom and y/n, fully clothed and not even an inch close. 

That’s when both y/n and Tom lost it, bursting into laughter. 

“YOU GUYS FUCKING SUCK!” James yelled at them before joining in their laughter, red from embarrassment. 

Clark had followed right after, laughing with them. “So that—“

Y/n couldn’t stop her laughter, even tears had come down her cheek as she stared at her brother so embarrassed, watching them. 

“I can’t believe you fell for that!” Y/N had laughed. 

Clark couldn’t stop giggling either. 

“And by the way, thanks Clark,” Tom laughed, “you’re a real one.” 

“I fucking hate you all,” James rolled his eyes. 

“Now let’s go for the real one,” Tom had joked, probably with a death wish, but he quickly regretted it, “no, no, no, I’m joking! I’m joking!” 

“You bet your ass you’re joking,” James warned before laughing again, defeated, “I hate you both.” 

He had left with Clark laughing behind him, leaving y/n and Tom still laughing at their prank. 

Laughing and laughing until they ran out of breath and laughed again. 

“Shit, I love you so much,” Tom had said with one last breath after laughing. 

“I love you, too,” she had said, “that was the best fake sex I’ve had in my life.” 

“Hm, I’m pretty sure I’ve given you the best non fake one, too,” he had said cockily. 

“Non fake,” she scoffed. 

But then they’ve gone back to laughing, eventually somehow it transformed into kissing, and they had spent the night kissing, and giggling and nothing more, probably because they were aware that it was a very risky situation having James right beside and honestly, they were decent but mostly because they didn’t need more. Just the two of them laying down, and merging their lips together, becoming one with the other, was all they needed. 

The next day was rather perfect, filming had gone as smoothly as it could go, and though they kept their distance because they were professionals, y/n could tell there was something different about her and Tom. Not sure what but it felt like things could work out. A ray of hope, if one must say. 

There had been more cake, more people congratulating her for her birthday and just—Flowers. Sunflowers here and there, Along with blue hydrangeas. Pretty combination. Tom had made sure to fill up the place. She did love the sunflowers. Her mother calling her, auntie Eliza sending her pink carnations, it was—good. Especially after they told everyone about their prank, that made it even better. 

“You do have that fake sex aftermath glow,” Emma had joked. 

Perfect day, a perfect day until the sun was yawning down, she had put on her best clothes, and she was nervous. Not sure why though.

Tom had invited the cast as well. Nothing could go wrong, and it definitely wasn’t going to, right? Y/N had thought maybe it was a good day after all. 

The place had been packed and the first song playing had been Ironic by Alanis Morissette, James had been the first one to point it out, he really liked that song. And though the combination of friends seemed like the perfect recipe for disaster, y/n thought it had gone calmly. At least at the beginning. 

The club seemed to be picked out of y/n’s dreams, an 80’s and 70’s paradise playing the songs she loved to sing along to. There was a karaoke, too, in the background, separate from the dance floor. Honestly, the place was perfect. Fun. 

And y/n had ignored Cherry’s presence as long as she could, she hadn’t been rude, but of course she’d been avoiding her, because the moment she saw her, y/n did feel insecure. She had shown up with a tight dress that gave nothing to the imagination, and her hair perfectly falling down her shoulders, her whole body shimmered. She was beautiful, beyond compare, perfect. 

“Y/N!” She had greeted her. “I’m so glad I see you, I love your dress, hun, happy birthday!” 

Her high pitched tone had only made y/n even more insecure. And y/n had seen her dancing, she’d caught Josh’s attention, it had seemed. Even Asa’s and Gregg’s attention. Because of course she would, the girl was perfect. 

“Is Tim your boyfriend?” Cherry had asked y/n. 

“What?” Y/N didn’t know if she’d heard right. “No… No, he’s not.” 

“Oh, I thought he was!” 

“Happy birthday!” Someone had yelled as they popped off a bottle. 

Y/N could take care of Cherry later, who was actually picking out mostly everyone’s attention. 

“Who is she?” Josh had asked her. “If it weren’t for Emma, I’d say she’s the prettiest girl in the world.” 

There was a lot to unpack from Josh’ statement. 

“That’s my cousin,” she explained. “She’s single, so why don’t you give it a go?” Y/N had suggested, knowing perfectly that if he did, she’d take away another problem. Because she’d seen Harry anxious the moment Josh had showed up.  

Y/N didn’t know why she felt like Harry did know about Josh, she wasn’t sure but the same face Harry was giving Josh was the face Y/N gave to Cherry. 

Initially, she had seen Cherry approach Tom, she had whispered  something in his ear, and he had only gulped before walking off to one of his brothers. It made y/n anxious. 

“You know what? You should go and sing Jolene,” Emma suggested, y/n could tell that Emma probably was slightly dizzy, as she had dragged her, Clark and Auli’i to the dance floor, a...very strange combination. Y/N was just a bit bothered by this, since she wanted to be with Tom, or rather, she wanted to pull him away from where Cherry was. 

“Jolene?” Auli’i laughed. Felt rather weird for y/n hanging out with celebrities. Tom didn’t count… Not in that way, at least. 

“Yes, Jolene,” Emma said. “I’m begging you please don’t take my man!” 

“Your man?” Auli’i had asked. “As in Tom?” 

Y/N chuckled. “Uh...Well….er.” 

“Please, you’re dating, right?” She laughed. 

Y/N didn’t answer. 

“Please, it’s kind of obvious,” Auli’i explained. “You guys have tried to be subtle but we all know it.” 

Well, there goes their attempt at trying to be professional. It didn’t matter, honestly. But it did bother her knowing that Cherry was the only girl in there, but thankfully, her own brother had kept Cherry occupied, thank god.  

Y/N was also bothered by the fact Tom wasn’t by her side,  just slightly bothered. She guessed, however, that he was having fun with his brothers. She wondered where Timmy was, because all she could see was the guys, and Cherry, at the table getting their asses drunk. 

Especially Timmy. 

Emma had dragged them back to the place, y/n had  tried to get close to Tom, who had also tried to pull her close to him, but somehow she had been dragged away again. It was annoying, and the night kept going like that. She hadn’t had one single minute with Tom, and it was bothering her. Tom, too, it seemed. 

Tom was very bothered by the fact that y/n kept being pulled by her friends, not that they were doing it to specifically bother him, but it was… annoying. Also, having Cherry around, was not a perfect situation, especially because she was insisting on talking to him. What in this world was she trying to do? 

He didn’t want to deal with that, he only wanted to have fun. Besides, a club with loud music was definitely not the place to talk. Not on his… girlfriend’s? Birthday celebration. 

The night was getting blurry, to him, to everyone. Half past twelve, it was getting darker, and the drinks had come and gone, drink after drink.  Everyone seemed to be having a very good time, and he wasn’t sure but the lights on the club had probably lowered, flashes green and yellow were blinding him. The group was constantly divided, and he had had only a small chance to dance with y/n. The music was buzzing too loud, as he escaped through the crowds, trying to find y/n, and he saw her, dancing with everyone and then, Timmy had dragged her close to him, she didn’t even notice as she danced and sang along to the… 70’s, yeah 70’s song playing. Tom feared it, because it’s not difficult to know when someone wants to kiss the person you’re in love with. Tim was drunk, Tom knew this, and the look in his eyes was saying everything. And though he didn’t see that look on y/n, he feared it. 

Tom quickly had pulled her by the hand and finally wrapped his arms around her so they could dance. 

Tim had only rolled his eyes but kept dancing with Emma. 

“Hi!” y/n had cheered as soon as she saw Tom. 

“Hey!” 

“Where have you been?” She asked, leaning to his ear.  

“Here and there,” he admitted, she only giggled to lean over to kiss him. 

Everything was going too quickly, the lights and music were not helping. They had barely danced before Emma had dragged y/n. 

“I’m sorry, Tom, but it’s y/n’s and I turn to go to the karaoke!” Emma had said before getting her away. 

“You were getting too comfortable,” Tom had barked at Tim. 

“Pff,” Tim had scoffed. “You’re scared it’ll happen again?” 

“What?” Tom frowned. “I’m-- she’s with me.” 

“Yet she slept with me just before you arrived,” Tim had blurted. 

Tom had felt the music getting louder, and louder, just as Tim had left and Tom was sunk into the dancing crowd. 

He didn’t have to believe him… right? 

In the state of shock, he only tried to follow after where Emma and y/n were heading.The karaoke music was playing, Emma had chosen ‘Gimme, Gimme, Gimme (A Man after midnight!)’ for her and y/n to sing, and they had started, happily singing as she was so unaware of what Tom was feeling right now. Not sure if it was anger, disappointment, jealousy, or all at once. 

The group had followed after them, too, as they were expectant to see the birthday girl, first receiving a very flattering shot of… Tom thought it was probably vodka as soon as she got to the stage. Emma and her sang and yelled, and the group danced and danced. Emma being such a crowd pleaser, yelling and making them cheer. 

Tom couldn't. 

Is there a man out there? Someone to hear my prayers…

There was no sight of Tim, that was alright, he guessed. But then it… Tom’s mind went to every single time he’d seen her around Tim. It was so fucking obvious, of course they had slept together, and y/n probably still had feelings for him. 

Tom was the only one who wasn’t dancing. 

Emma had jumped off the stage to land on Josh, and then without even thinking about it, she had kissed him, right in front of Harry. 

Sam and Clark had joined y/n on the stage, everyone was just too bloody drunk, and the song seemed to be never ending. Or maybe Tom hadn’t noticed when it had changed, it sounded like another ABBA song. And it was… ‘Voulez-Vous’. Now it was Y/N, Sam and Clark. 

Tom didn’t even realize when Cherry was around him, and it probably was the alcohol working out but he danced with her. Not sure why. 

Y/N saw it, right from the stage, but luckily Clark had been kind enough to dance with her as someone else had hopped to the stage to sing with them, now that y/n was definitely not able to sing. 

And just as the song was ending, and as the next group of girls had popped on the stage,  she saw it, perfectly happening, Cherry’s lips were on Tom’s. 

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[sup-hoes-its-me]

A Hero III (Shinsou x Reader)

A/N: okay, so this is definitely the last part. I had so much fun writing this tbh, i really hope you guys enjoy it. I love love love writing jealousy. This chapter is all fluff, so sweet it’ll give you cavities. God, the thought of seeing shinsou smile and be happy, wow. im in love with him. Have fun reading and comment if you want more shinsou in the future

word count: 5200

Part One/Part Two/Part Three

“Shinsou, what do you think of this?” she held up a dress on the hanger. The price wasn’t nearly as bad as the other things in here, and it wasn’t in an ugly color. It was purple, of course. She loved purple ever since she met her friend. Her notebooks were purple and so was her new bedspread. It was nice to curl up in a cave of violet each night, almost like a night-long hug from him. 

Gosh, she felt herself becoming flustered just thinking about it. You’re friends, Y/N. just because someone is nice to you does not mean they want to go out with you, seriously. She kept telling herself over and over in her head to focus on the task at hand.

They were shopping, specifically for her uncle’s wedding. She had literally nothing that looked mildly appropriate, her closet just stuff to the brim with uniforms and jeans and sweaters, nothing fancy. Two days before the actual ceremony, her mother woke her up early on a Sunday. “Go out and get yourself something nice to wear. I seriously cannot believe both of my children dress like complete slobs everyday.” Y/N heard her hothead mother say in her head once more. Did she really dress like a slob? She didn’t think so. Her clothes weren’t in fashion but also weren’t ugly. 

Shinsou peered up from his phone where he sat on the bench. He didn’t necessarily plan on going out to the mall that day, he was actually going to sleep for most of it. He was quite surprised when he woke up at 10a.m. to his phone ringing and vibrating on the bedside table. Without putting in much thought, he suddenly found himself dressed and walking down the road to her house. 

“It looks fine.”

“Just fine? If it’s ugly, you have to tell me because mom will make me return it and get something else,” she complained.

“In that case, probably not. It’s kinda plain, don’t you think?” he commented. He stood from the bench. “Although, I do appreciate you only looking at purple dresses, let’s try something else.” He hummed to himself, as he walked past her. He didn’t really have an eye for women’s clothes, not at all. He just looked at them and tried to imagine Y/N wearing it. How the colors would look against her skin, and how it would flatter her shape. He tried not to think about her body too much, it would fluster him  and he wouldn’t be able to look her in the eyes, he was sure of it.

“Let’s try red.”

“Red? Like blood?” she asked. He turned to look at her with a raised brow before he remembered she spent her days surrounded by her own blood, as that’s what he quirk entailed. Of course she would associate the color with it. Scrap that idea.

“Okay then, let’s try blue.” She nodded, agreeing with him. She never wore too much color, but that one wasn’t too bad. “Your budget is what? 100 dollars, right?” he asked as his eyes skimmed the racks in the area. Now that he looked at it, dresses really didn’t look that great when they just hung there. 

She stepped up to walk at his side. “Yes. Do you see anything you like?”

“Not really. I have to see them on you to know if they’re good or not,” he told her. His eyes trailed down to a modest blue dress, okay for a party with family members. “Try this one. And then,” he scanned the room once more before walking over and grabbing another one. “Try this one. I’ll wait outside until you’re done.”

She took the dresses from his hands and pressed them to her chest. She would have never picked either of these dresses as they weren’t her style. She was self conscious in the first place, so she tended to avoid wearing anything that would draw attention to her. Just the thought of walking around in a nice dress, eyes turning to stare, it made her feel anxious. 

Still, she was only with Shinsou. She didn’t have to worry about him seeing her. He wouldn’t judge or stare if she asked him not to. That’s the whole reason she brought him, because she wanted company and she trusted his opinion. If she looked bad, she was sure he would tell her to keep her from embarrassment. 

In the dressing room, she slipped out of her casual clothes and threw the dress over her head, letting it fall down to rest against her body. The fabric was soft against her skin, and she felt herself running her fingers along the fabric, sighing at how delicate the material was. There wasn’t a design really, it was a pretty plain dress, but it fit perfectly. Usually clothes on fit right in one place and wrong in another, but this one wasn’t like that. She would have to see what it looked like with the zipper up.

“Hitoshi, can you come in?”

“What?”

“I need your help. My arms aren’t long enough to pull up the zipper,” she called to him again. Hesitantly, he stood from the little viewing bench and knocked on the door, which she had locked from the inside. She unlatched the little hook and cracked it open enough for him to slip in. 

Admittedly, he felt weird, being in the dressing room with her; it felt so foreign to him. He kept his eyes trailed on the wall, not daring to look at her incase she was at all indecent. If Shinsou Hitoshi knew how to do anything, it was respecting women. “So what did you need?”

“Just do the zipper the rest of the way. I only got it halfway up,” she told him, and he looked down at her. She stood facing away from him, and indeed half the zipper was open. Carefully, with as much finesse as he could muster, he pulled up the zipper without touching much of her bare skin. He did rest a hand on her shoulder though to hold the dress in place.

You’re just friends. This shouldn’t even be a problem for you, he thought. But it was a problem. He felt flustered and a bit bothered, if he were being completely honest. He was so distracted he didn’t even hear what she was saying until she shook his arm. 

“Yeah?”

“I said, how does this one look? It’s super comfortable, I have to say that.” First, she smoothed down the skirt and then she raised her arms slightly to her sides so he could see the whole thing. 

He almost choked. She looked amazing. He loved seeing her in whatever clothes she wanted to wear. Uniform, big sweaters, jeans, pyjamas, it didn’t matter, she looked equally amazing in everything. It’s just something about seeing someone you care about so much in fancy clothes that leaves you shocked and mouth agape. 

Subtly, he cleared his throat, and looked away from her. “Well, that’s settled. You’re gonna leave with that one.”

Y/N turned a bit in the mirror, checking herself and the dress out. It did look awfully nice on her, but she just couldn’t see herself wearing something so nice. She would probably think that about any dress she put on, and since Shinsou said he liked this one, it must be good. “Are you sure?”

He looked at her again, standing beside her so he could see her in the mirror as well. He ran a hand through his hair, and nodded. “Definitely. I don’t think you’ll find anything better than that one.”

“Really? What about this exact dress but in purple?” she laughed. 

“Okay, maybe.”

He turned to leave, so she could get dressed but she stopped him. “Wait, you gotta unzip it too.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

He walked up to stand behind her, his hands shaking only a little. He was surprised he wasn’t about to pass out. He rest one hand on her shoulder once again and the other pulled down the zipper slowly. It probably would have made it a lot easier on him if he just did it swiftly and then evaded the room immediately. Once it was down though, he was extremely quick to leave the room, undoing the latch, and sliding out of the room. 

“Are you okay, Hitoshi?” the girl asked, and from outside the room, he could hear her slipping the dress off and the cloth hitting the floor. 

Jesus Christ.

After a minute, the door unlatched and she walked out, carrying both the dresses on her arm. “Just have to put this one back and then we can get out of here,” she said, walking through the racks to hang up the second dress which she never even got the chance to try on. He was glad for that, as he didn’t have to go through that process again. He almost felt out of breath.

Why was he so immature? They weren’t little kids. She was his friend, and helping her put on her dress wasn’t anything to get worked up over. She was acting like everything was fine and nothing intimate just happened at all. It left him feeling almost ashamed with himself for overreacting. Clearly, she thought it was a normal thing.

As she bought her stuff at the counter, he shuffled awkwardly to the side. “Y/N, you wanna get something to eat after this?” Food would make him feel better. Carbs can do magic in almost all situations.

“Yes. Did you have anything in mind?”

“No, I thought I’d let you pick.” For a moment, she paused to exchange money with the lady at the counter. She hung the bag with her dress inside on her arm and turned to walk out of the store with her friend, who had his hands now shoved deep in his jacket pockets.

“Fried chicken,” she asked hopefully, looking up to him. 

“Sure. You find us a table while I go and get the food,” he told her, and she could only nod in agreement. It was fucking hard to find a table in these crowded malls. Slowly, her eyes scanned the room and the dozens of people gathered around the tables eating their meals of choice. Finally, out of the corner of her eyes, she spotted a table with only one chair and some trash sitting on it, but that was as good as they were gonna get. She walked over and picked up the leftover tray and tossed it in the trash a couple feet away. 

“Excuse me, can I borrow one of these chairs?” she asked the table beside them with a couple extra chairs around, and they nodded, but their subtle glares told her she was bothering them. She cringed, but still dragged the chair over and took a seat. Her eyes wandered back over to Shinsou, who was waiting in line, but surprisingly, there was a girl standing right beside him. She was way too far away to hear what they were speaking about, but the girl seemed to be talking up a storm. 

Maybe he knew her.

Damn, she sure is pretty, Y/N thought. Why did Shinsou know such a beautiful lady? He could talk to whoever he wanted, it wasn’t her place to say anything, she was just curious. Really, really, curious. So, she buried her nose in her phone to avoid those thoughts. Shinsou was free to talk to whoever he wanted. 

It was fine, whatever. 

Really. 

Y/N couldn’t care less. 

...

Okay, so (not) secretly, she cared a fuck ton.

After a while, she heard the chair across from her scratch against the floor and a tray be placed in the middle of the table. “Y/N, what are you looking at so angrily over there?” he asked, and she looked up from her phone, bewildered. Was she glaring at her own phone, where she was just looking at memes?

“Oh, uh, nothing. Thanks for the food. I could have paid my share.”

He raised a brow, clearly confused. She never turned down free food. Not once. Who does that? “Why? I offered anyway.”

“I know, but like...Well, I don’t know. I guess you’re right.” She took a bite of her food, but it didn’t taste very good. Instead, it just tasted bitter, like how she was feeling. 

“Seriously, what’s up with you?”

“It’s nothing,” Y/N said calmly, adding, “I’m just curious who that girl was you were talking to.”

He thought for a moment before remembering. He’d completely forgotten that some lady tried talking to him. She was so insignificant that he just pushed it from his mind. He had better things to think about. He replied casually, “Oh, her? I don’t even know. She just came up to me and started talking to me.”

“About what?” 

He shrugged. He didn’t really know what to say. He didn’t even think Y/N noticed her come up to him, nor did he think she would care. “Well, quite frankly, she was flirting with me, I think. She asked for my phone number and stuff…” Really, he didn’t think it was that big of a deal. 

She felt her skin turn hot with anger, and even some embarrassment. Anyone could flirt with him, it didn’t matter to her how many girls he had on his phone. It wasn’t even her business. He could have a girlfriend and she couldn’t do shit about it. He was her friend, and she had to support him. 

Only, that was easier said than done.

“Did you give her your number?”

“No, actually I told her to fuck off and leave me alone,” he answered, very bluntly at that. “Are you okay? You sound like you’re mad with me now.”

She shook her head, frustrated that she let her emotions show through so much. She was never good at that kind of thing, but she wished she could have avoided this entire conversation all together. “I’m fine. It doesn’t even matter, let's just eat.”

“Are you...Shit, are you jealous?” he asked. His lips turned up in a grin, seeing her face morph into one of a person who has been caught red handed. Deer in the headlights sort of expression. He found it funny. He didn’t really care if she was jealous, of what exactly, he didn’t know. He just thought it was so incredibly hilarious that she was.

“N-No!”

“You definitely are.”

“And so what if I am?” she huffed, shoving a couple french fries into her mouth angrily. 

“Nothing really. I’m just surprised,” he teased, “Are you not getting enough attention, Y/N?”

“Shinsou, shut up! Now you’re just making fun of me!” she cried, covering her face with her hands. 

He smiled, watching as he squirmed in her seat. She was so cute. He was having fun, just sitting here in this food court was actually a ton of fun for him, and for him any kind of fun was pretty rare. She kept putting french fries in her mouth to hide how she was pouting and how she couldn’t even look him in the eye. He noticed, and it only made his smile last longer. 

Dammit, he loved her.

________________________________

Y/N sat at her desk, packing up her books and pens into her book bag. Class was over for the day, which meant she would go to the dorms and do her homework. A few days out of the week, Shinsou would go to train with his mentor, and today just happened to be that day. 

“So, you have training today with Aizawa-sensei?” she asked.

He shook his head as he leant against her desk, waiting for her to be done. “Not today, he’s out sick.”

“Oh, good. You can help me with my homework then.” She stood up from her desk and slung her bag over her shoulder. “You’re so smart, I’m jealous. I wish it was that easy for me.”

“You’re smart, just in a different way, Y/N.”

“Oh, yeah? What way? I’m stupid at everything.”

“You’re really good at picking friends.”

She laughed, pushing on his shoulder. Of course he would say that. He was never confident, in fact, he kinda hated himself. Most high schoolers do. But it was easy to crack jokes like that, and she always enjoyed them. It made him feel better about himself at the same time. To affirm time and time again that he was a good friend, good for her at least. Other friends he’d had before just ditched him because they didn’t like him. 

Just as she walked out the door into the hall, the purple haired boy following closely behind, another student from their class approached them, his hand tucked behind his back. She didn’t really know him all that much. His quirk was very insignificant, and he didn’t have much of a personality either. 

Truly though, when she was in class, she didn’t see anyone but the professor and Shinsou. It was pretty simple.

“Bakugo-chan, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Um, sure, Tanaka. Is there something you needed?”

His eyes slid over to the tall, brooding figure behind her, who just stared off into space pretty mindlessly. She noticed the boy looking, but didn’t think much of it. Shinsou was fine there.

“Go ahead,” she said, and he snapped out of his daze.

“You see, I’ve been watching you since the beginning of the school year. I think you are the most beautiful and kind person I’ve ever met,” he confessed, his words nearly slurring together as he spoke so fast. She blinked, not expecting a confession from the boy, or anyone for that matter. She swore they had only spoken maybe two times, maximum. Why would he like her?

Shinsou looked over now from the corner of his eye. He didn’t want to make the kid uncomfortable. He wasn’t a bad guy, just another student trying to become the best they could be. Yet, he really, really hated hearing someone else talk that way about her. He was almost sure only he thought those things about Y/N; how beautiful she was, kind, strong, smart, and perfect. Now it seemed other people did as well? The thought of other people...fantasizing about his sweet friend made him feel sick to his stomach.

Then, much to her displeasure, the boy pulled out a small bouquet of flowers that were obviously picked from outside in the courtyard as they were mostly a mix of weeds and leaves. He shoved them in her direction, urging her to take them. Reluctantly, the plants found their way into her hands. “I really hope you like the flowers. I tried to pick the colors that would compliment your eyes.”

Wow, okay. 

“Thank you, Tanaka-kun. They sure are pretty,” she said. Desperately, she wanted to just run away and pretend this encounter never happened. She never thought this would happen to her of all people. A loser like her. 

“If you aren’t dating anyone else, I would like to take you on a date this weekend. We can go anywhere you want,” he asked hopefully, his eyes full of anticipation and yearning. “Please, you won’t regret it. I’ll make you so happy, Bakugo-chan. Please.”

Oh, God, he was begging. 

“I’m sorry, but you should take these flowers back and give them to some other girl,” Y/N said as gently as she could, taking the boy’s hand to place the flowers into his palm. Immediately, the boy’s face crumbled, and his cheeks turned a bright shade of red. She felt so terrible for embarrassing him this way. “I’m really not the girl for you. My heart belongs to someone else, so I could never feel the same way for you.”

“I see,” he sighed. The boy’s eyes slid up to enviously glare at Shinsou, who looked right back with a vengeance. Everyone knew who Y/N really wanted. Maybe just maybe, the pair were only friends like they claimed. Tanaka was praying the entire day that she would accept his offer and leave Shinsou behind. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you? I just can’t understand why you’d fall in love with a villain like him.”

Shinsou felt his heart fall to the bottom of his stomach at those words. He closed his eyes and tried not to think much about it, but memories of those bullies in middle school just came back into his mind in full color. He felt that sense of dread hang over his head. 

“Excuse me?”

“He’s a monster! All he does is manipulate people to do what he wants. The only reason you love him is because he brainwashed you!”

Shinsou rarely felt like he might cry, but this was one of those moments. It was one thing for people to call him a monster in front of strangers, but he felt worse knowing that he was saying this to Y/N. She somehow avoided hearing all those insults and accusations until now, and suddenly he felt like his head was benign held under water, completely hopeless and weak. Y/N wouldn’t just betray him like that, trust this guys word over his own, he knew that for sure. He just felt so overwhelmed with shame. It made him feel terrible that people actually believed the only reason she was friends with him was because he brainwashed her. Couldn’t he have nice things as well?

He never wanted her to see this side of him, the side people perceived him as. He wanted to run away to his dorm and never leave the room again. What was the point now that he knew people thought of him like that still. 

Y/N, much to everyone’s surprise, raised her hand and slapped their fellow student right across the face. “Fuck you!”

“Y/N-”

“Shut up, Shinsou.”

The boy who was slapped put his hand on his cheek and stared up at her in shock. She was so gentle and sweet most of the time. How could she slap him like that, enough to leave a mark? His precious and sweet crush. 

“You call this boy a monster again, and I will beat your ass, do you hear me?” she commanded, and when he didn’t reply, she shoved on his shoulder. He stumbled back, nearly falling into the wall on the other side of the hall. “I said, did you hear me?”

“Y-yes.”

“Shinsou Hitoshi is more of a man than you will ever be. Men don’t stoop to insulting others insecurities just because a pretty girl rejected him. Boo hoo, get a grip. You will never be half the hero Shinsou is,” she told him bitterly, glaring through narrowed eyes. Maybe she was being a bit harsh, she didn’t care. If it was one thing she learned from Katsuki, it was how to defend the people you love (even if it’s unnecessarily mean). Perhaps, she learned a bit too much from the blond...

She stepped back, letting her arms fall to her sides. “If I ever hear my name or Shinsou’s come out of your mouth again, I will not hesitate.”

He nodded, grabbing his bag off the floor and turning to run down the hall in the other direction. She brushed a few loose strands of hair from her eyes and sighed, letting her shoulders finally sink into a relaxed state again. It had been a long time since she felt such pure rage burn in her heart. Normally, there was rarely a time someone bothered her enough to make her angry. It just wasn’t who she was. 

Hearing those words about Shinsou sent her over the edge. No one would talk about him that way. Nobody, and she would make sure of it.

“Let’s go.” Her footsteps were practically stomps as she walked down the hall, her friend following close behind. “I can’t believe someone would have the nerve to say something like that to me about you? Like, who does he think he is?” Y/N grumbled, clenching and unclenching her fists by her side. 

“Really, Y/N, you didn’t have to do that. I used to hear that stuff all the time.”

“Exactly! No one deserves to be treated like that, and you’ve already experienced far more than anyone should,” she told him. “He really tried to ask me out and then right after tried to talk shit about you. What an ass. Some boys just can’t take rejection, can they?.”

He only watched as she kept walking, but he didn’t feel like saying much. She was in too bad of a mood to reason with. He never imagined her acting like that. Even when they were training, she never got angry or even frustrated. She was so calm and gentle. For a moment there, she sounded exactly like her brother. It scared him, to be honest. 

He appreciated her defending him though. It was the most anyone had done to stand up for him.

Worrying about her and his quirk completely washed away the fact that she admitted to loving him. It seemed that would be the topic of discussion another day.

________________________________

“Come on, come on. It’s almost starting!” Y/N rushed up the stairs, tugging Shinsou by the hand up . He was tired. He didn’t really have the time or energy to watch this firework show she was so excited to see. Still, he did it for her since she’d been waiting for weeks for it. 

No U.A. students were allowed to dress up in their formal wear and go to the shrines like everyone else on New Years, since big crowds could pose a danger to the students' safety. Instead, groups of students from different classes gathered up some snacks on the roofs of their own family houses to watch the fireworks at the shrine a mile or so away. She had a bag full of her favorite drink, fruit milk, on her arm, eager to binge and drink it all. She would probably make herself sick, but it's like that sometimes.. 

“Five minutes until midnight,” she muttered. She pushed open the attic window and slid through onto the roof, and was met with emptiness. Only a few small groups of friends were spaced out pretty far and few in between on their class building. She walked over to the side in the direction of the shrine, and sat down on the bench. Her milk plopped down onto the spot beside her.

Shinsou silently took a seat beside her. He checked his phone. Only a couple more minutes. He couldn’t understand for the life of him why she was so excited just for time to pass and some colored lights to go off in the distance. The noise was so loud though, he realized he wouldn’t have gotten much sleep that night anyway.

Happily, she popped the cap off a banana milk and took a long sip. He took one from the bag as well, strawberry, and popped the cap. “Why are you so excited for this anyway, Y/N?”

“I-I don’t know. I just wanted to spend the holiday with you, and since we aren’t allowed back home for the holiday due to all those villain threats, I thought it would be a fun thing for the two of us to do together,” she told him. Honestly, she was just happy to spend more time with him. It felt so good, the cold air on her skin and the crickets chirping from the ground below. People around talked and laughed amongst their own groups. 

It was the perfect moment.

Shinsou knew about this tradition some people had on New Years. He was sure it was probably an American thing since All Might and Midoriya were talking about it. Apparently, you are supposed to kiss someone when the clock strikes midnight, and it grants you good luck for the rest of the year. 

He wouldn’t even attempt it. That was a complete invasion of her space. He just wanted her to enjoy the fireworks and her milk without any drama. Things had gotten a bit weird between them over the time they’d known each other. They were close, almost too close to be friendly. Other people clearly noticed; Bakugo, Aizawa, that boy from their class. Neither of them knew what to do about those feelings, so they just pretended they weren’t there, he supposed. It was easier that way.

That didn’t mean he didn’t want to kiss her. He definitely did 100 percent want that kiss. He just couldn’t take the risk. What if everyone was wrong this whole time? What if she only thought of him as a very close friend this whole time and he got the wrong idea. He didn’t know enough girls to know how they acted with their guy friends. 

He knew he was hopelessly in love. It used to scare him, the thought of being so attached to someone like that. Now, he just felt happy to have someone to hold in his heart. It didn’t matter much if she ever accepted his love. As long as he could hold her and see her smile, that was enough.

Soon enough, dozens of rainbow colored fireworks lit up the sky. The sound was dulled by the distance between them and the shrine, but it was still loud enough to dull Shinsou’s thoughts. He leaned back on the roof on one hand and the other lifted the strawberry milk to his lips, taking a sip. 

Another year flew by faster than he thought.  It was no doubt the best year of his life so far.

He didn’t even notice her begin to speak until she said his name. 

“Shinsou,” she exhaled. “I really wouldn’t mind spending every year with you.”

He looked over to her. Her face was illuminated in bright pinks and blues, and she had that ever present smile on her lips. How could one person look like that? All he ever wanted and more, the girl of his dreams? 

“I think I’d like that, too.”

“Would you really?” 

“If I got to spend every single day with you for the rest of my life, it still wouldn’t be enough for me.”

She took a deep breath, tilting her head back to stare up at the deep blue night sky above, only a couple shining stars to be seen. For a long time, she felt like it was inevitable that he would find out, and now seemed just as good as any. 

“You know, Hitoshi, I think I’m in love with you.”

His lips curled up into a smile. “I’ve been in love with you for so long, Y/N,” he confessed, “They say love at first sight isn’t real, but damn, it sure feels like it is.”

“God, why do you always know exactly what to say to make me feel like this,” she asked, placing her hand over her head and laughing. “Why are you so perfect?”

“I’m not. I’m perfect, but only for you.”

They sat beside each other in silence for a moment, taking in each other’s feelings. Her hand wormed over to rest on his, and he quickly intertwined their fingers. He squeezed her hand and she squeezed back. He could feel how warm her skin felt, and the smile on his face only grew. He would always remember this moment.

“Do you mind if I kiss you?”

“Please.”

And so, he got that kiss he wanted all along. Along with many, many more to follow. 

For the first time ever, he felt like he made the right choice. He’d finally done something worthwhile with his life. He met his Y/N.

Thank you for supporting me and have a lovely day.

[etoileholland]

lead me to your door

@mayberosey​ asked: The Tom and reader are neighbors (apartment setting) and every time he passes by her apartment, she plays different types of genres. She would play classical to jazz to rock to indie and so on. Tom finds it endearing that she has such wide range of music taste, but one day it just stops. And it lasts for maybe a week or two. So he’s worried but doesn’t do anything. When he finally hears music playing, the sounds are more mellow and it doesn’t change for a few days. That’s when Tom decided to knock on her door...

Pairing: Tom x female reader

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: none 

A/N: so I've been on a lil hiatus from writing but I finally finished this so I wanted to share it. Requests are open and I’m personally out of ideas, so please don’t hesitate to send something in. Although please don’t send in any requests about drama revolving around Tom’s girlfriend, I’ve already received a few and I won’t write those xx also the gif isn’t mine, all credit goes to its respective owner

“L, is for the way you look at me. ‘O’ is for the only one I see, ‘V’ is very very, extraordinary…”

Tom smiled to himself when he heard the faint music from the other side of the wall. It was 8am and his neighbour was already playing music. It was something that he had to grow accustomed to when he moved in about a month ago. At first it was a bit annoying to always hear some form of music from the apartment right next to his, but now, he welcomed it.

He was eating breakfast in the kitchen, and the music accompaniment was a nice way to start the day. He mouthed along to the familiar words, a smile erupted on his face as he enjoyed his scone.

Tom had grown to find there was a schedule with the music that he heard from next door. Since today was Monday, it was usually old jazz tunes, like Sinatra, Benny Goodman or Louis Armstrong. Tuesday’s were a mix of contemporary pop music, Wednesday’s were nothing but music from The Beatles, Thursday and Friday were dedicated to Harry Styles, Saturday’s was an array of songs and genres from the ‘60s to about the 80’s, and Sunday's were nothing but sad songs, the theme usually revolving around unrequited love.

He often wondered why there was such a distinct schedule, and why you only listened to sad songs on Sunday’s. It had become a bit of a game for him to try to figure out why, but so far he’s settled on the idea that maybe you had your heart broken on a Sunday, and therefore, dedicated sad songs to that day only.

On the weekdays, the music would stop around 10am, and would pick back up again around 6pm, and would cease around 9pm. It was rare to hear music past that point, which made him think that you went to bed extremely early. And on the weekends, the music would go from noon to midnight, which suggested you stayed up later.

He loved building a fantasy around the person he deduced based on your patterns and music choice, but the truth is that he had never met you. He had no idea who his neighbour was, and he didn’t want to knock on your door in case you were a creep or something.

He figured his neighbour was a female, since he often heard a light airy laugh from the other side of the wall, but it could be a man with a really high pitched laugh. Or you could be married, or old, but he had no idea, and frankly he had no intention of finding out.

Until one day, the music stopped.

It happened abruptly, he awoke one day on a Tuesday morning and realised that there wasn’t any music coming from your apartment. But he didn’t worry since he figured you were either sleeping in, or you had left early for work or something. He was gone the whole day at a rehearsal for the show he was in, so he didn’t think twice about the silence.

The next day, Wednesday around noon, he was hoping to hear the melodic voices of Lennon and McCartney from the other side of the wall, but once again it was silent. Usually at this point in the day, you had already finished the first two Beatles albums, and were quick to put on ‘A Hard Day’s Night’. He began to wonder if maybe you were out of town, but the nagging thought in the back of his head wondered if something bad had happened.

I’ll give it a few more days, and then if I still hear silence, I’ll check up on them, he thought to himself.

—

A week had gone past, and still radio silence. It was beginning to worry Tom, and he knew that he would have to go check on you, but every time he tried, he couldn’t.

He would head out to go to the gym, and would walk past your door, hesitating to see if he should knock. His hand would hover over the doorbell, but always stopped a centimetre away from pushing it.

Maybe they moved, or maybe something really bad happened, he thought, or maybe they’re out of town?

The thoughts swirled around his head, making him anxious and flustered until he decided that he shouldn’t bother you. And besides, how would he even start the conversation?

He backed away from your door, but then swiftly took a step forward and nearly knocked on the dark wood grained door.

What am I thinking? He thought, before beginning to pace the hallway while he thought of the best way to handle this. Don’t be dumb, there’s no good way to start a conversation with them. Would I really be stupid enough to say, “‘Hey, not to sound like a creep but I noticed I don’t hear you playing music anymore?’ or ‘hey, so I’ve never once spoken to you before but I can always hear you from my apartment and I find pleasure in knowing you’re alive but now I hear nothing and I’m assuming the worst?’” They’ll call the cops on me for sure.

He paced around in front of your door for about a minute, until walking back in the direction of his apartment, surrendering to his ever-so-increasingly intrusive thoughts.

—

Today had marked two weeks without hearing music from your apartment, and Tom had grown increasingly worried. If it’s still silent by this time tomorrow, I’ll confront my fear and knock on the door.

Miraculously, he didn’t need to knock on your door at all. When he awoke at 9am on a Tuesday, he almost didn’t hear the faint music playing from the room on the other side of his bedroom wall.

He pressed his ear to the wall and could hear a somber song playing. His eyes nearly welled up with tears when he realised that you were okay. But as the day went on, he grew worried. Tuesday’s were your ‘pop music’ days, but he only heard sad Taylor Swift songs.

Well that’s odd, they only play those on Sunday, he pondered.

The next four days were filled with heart wrenching ballads, somber piano music floating through the air. The nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach never went away, and he knew that he would have no choice but to knock on your door.

He figured the best way to go about it was to inquire about the music, and say that as a caring neighbour, he wanted to make sure all was well.

Standing in front of the mirror, wearing his favourite pair of jeans and t-shirt, he left his apartment and walked over to your front door.

You can do it Tom, just say you’re concerned about their health and well-being.

As he lifted his arm to knock on your door, you had just opened your door and were startled to see someone standing in front of your door.

“Holy shit!” You exclaimed as you closed your door, but Tom put his hand out to keep your door open.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t trying to startle you.” He exhaled, stepping back into the hallway.

“I figured, I’m sorry for that, I just wasn’t expecting anyone to be standing on the other side of my door.”

“Me either.” He breathed, holding an arm out and propping himself up against the wall. “Were you about to head out?”

“I was just going to go down to pick up a package from the front desk, but it can definitely wait.”

He nodded his head and unsuccessfully pushed a stray curl away from his face, it falling right back near his eye in a matter of seconds. You stood there admiring the man in front of you, making a mental note of the loose curl in front of his face, and his slightly awkward demeanour. He was handsome, and you found it cute how he was speechless.

“Well, do you mind telling me why you were just about to knock on my door?” You inquired while Tom let out a small laugh.

“Right.” He placed his hand on the back of his neck and took a deep breath in. “I don’t want to overstep, but I was wondering if everything was alright with you?”

He saw a distinct shift in your facial expressions, but he continued to ramble on. “It’s just that I can always hear you playing music from my apartment right next door, and I love hearing it, but I noticed that it stopped for about two weeks. And then when it started again, it was only sad songs and you only usually play those on Sunday’s. Oh gosh, now I sound like a creep for observing that and I promise I’m not, I just thought it was odd and I wanted to make sure you were alright.” He took a deep breath out and paused before saying, “I hope that wasn’t too weird.”

You laughed lightly, before saying, “I’ve experienced weirder. But thank you for checking up on me…” you trailed off, realising that you don’t actually know your neighbours name.

“I-I’m Tom.” He stated, and you told him your name as well.

“It’s nice to meet you Tom, and once again thank you. I just went through a hard patch in my life, and listening to sad music made me feel better, in a way. But it’s nice to know you care, so thank you again.” You smiled, and Tom smiled back.

“Right, well I probably should get going since I know I’ve already made the weirdest first impression,” you both laughed, “but I’m glad to know you’re alright. But if you’re not, my apartment is 2B so you’re more than welcome to come over.” He blushed, gaze fixed on the carpeted floor.

“It was a perfectly fine first impression, but if you don’t mind me asking, do you like my music choice?” You laughed, and Tom’s face broke out into a smile, brown eyes piercing through yours.

“I wasn’t expecting that question, but yes, absolutely. I’ve found a lot of good songs and artists because of you. I’ve been loving FINNEAS’ album, and ELO, so I can thank you for that.” He grinned, the crinkles by his eyes becoming prominent.

“You’re welcome.” You had your door open all the way now, and you could smell that your pizza in the oven was nearly ready.

“Mm, that smells good.” Tom commented, and you looked into your apartment to make sure the oven wasn’t on fire.

“It does, I made some pizza and I think it’s nearly done.”

“I think so as well.” He added, the both of you sharing a comfortable silence. “I’ll let you eat though, but I’m glad to know you’re alright.” He smiled and began to take a step back when you lightly grabbed his arm, surprising you both.

“Wait, would you want to come inside? I made enough pizza for at least two people, and I also have a bottle of wine if you’d want some.” You asked, hoping that your very attractive neighbour would say…

“Yes, I’d love that. Only if it’s okay with you, of course.”

“It is okay, I asked you.” You smiled, and Tom laughed nervously.

“Right.” He half smiled.

“Well, come on in.” You motioned for him to step in, “let’s eat and listen to some music, yeah?”

“Absolutely.”

————

mes anges (taglist): @scarletxwidow @sunflowerhollands @fangirlwithasweettooth​ @taciturnspidey​ @musicalkeys​ @harrysleftchelseaboot​ @quaksonhehe​ @halfblood-princess-505​

[emberfrostlovesloki]

#4 Reader X SickSpencer

Gif credit: @stunudo​

Prompt: Reader X SickSpencer - Spencer catches a cold and doesn’t come into work on Monday morning. The reader goes to his apartment to check and see if he is doing alright. 

Category: Fluff / Comfort

Content Warning: Language (maybe) 

A/N: After watching the episode where Spencer gets tortured I had an infinite need to write something where he gets comforted by someone. This is pretty domestic and fluffy, but it’s what I needed right now. I want to thank @veraiconcos​ for helping me with the inspiration for this chapter. I hope you all enjoy it. Please like / reblog!

Link to all stories

_y/n_ = your name

_y/l/n_ = you’re last name

_h/c_ = hair color

_b/s_ = brother/ sister

_h/l_ = hair length

_f/c_ favorite color

_Y/n_ walked into the headquarters of the BAU with a pep in her step. She had spent most of the weekend hiking the paths of Ricketts Glenn State Park in Pennsylvania. She had taken the train up after she had clocked out of work and spent the rest of the weekend disconnecting from the world. She found the forested paths relaxing compared to her normal job she was bound to. She had asked if Morgan or Prentiss wanted to join her, but both of her teammates already had plans for the weekend.  In total the woman had walked over fifty miles. At noon on Sunday _y/n_ sadly said goodbye to her campsite, and drove herself to the airport. She had arrive at the office before everyone on Monday morning. She hadn’t gotten any work done during her outdoor experience. Because of this she arrived at her desk early in order to make a dent in the pile of paperwork she had left behind on Friday. When she sat down at the white desk _y/n_ noticed that some of the files she was least looking forward to were nowhere to be found. She didn’t think too hard about it for the moment, and just grabbed another file instead. After an hour, the other members of the team started streaming into the bullpen. _Y/n_ noticed that at 8:00 A.M. Morgan, Prentiss, J.J., Hotch and Gideon were all present, except for Dr. Reid. Agent _y/l/n_ looked around the room once more just to make sure that the young man wasn’t actually there, and she was just missing him. Spencer had never been late to work before. He had actually picked her up multiple times when she had texted him in a panic that it was raining and the trains would run late, and she’d probably get fired for being two minutes late. She knew that her fears were unfounded, she also knew that Spencer knew her fear was stupid. None the less he would pull up to her apartment and swing the passenger side door open from the inside. Those had been good rides. When _y/n_ was very sure she had not missed Spencer she walked up to Morgan who was just now walking up to his desk. She leaned against his desk and asked, “Morning, do you know where Reid is? Also, I’m missing some files from my desk, any idea where they may be?” Derek smiled and said, “I can explain both questions sweetness.” _Y/n_ rolled her eye’s at Morgans flattery but still raised her eyebrows, non verbally telling him to continue. Morgan took a seat and continued, “Reid is sick, apparently he caught a cold. About your missing files, your boyfriend stayed late last Friday, last I saw of him he had taken about ten of your case files to his desk, and was filling them out himself.” Before _y/n_ had a chance to process that Derek had called Spencer her boyfriend she replied, “Oh my gosh, is he okay? When did he get sick?” Morgan smiled as she realized what term he had used for her friend. She grabbed one of his case files and started hitting him over the head with it. The athletic agent put his hands over his head and said, “Reid got sick on Saturday. He texted us on Sunday that he had a fever and Hotch told him to stay home.” 

Before _y/n_ could ask more questions, J.J. entered the room and said, “We have a case, let’s head into the conference room to talk over the details.” When the team was assembled, Hotcher stood up and started explaining the case. “We’re looking for an unsub that has killed congressman Luke Allen. The murder took place in the senators office last night at 1:00 A.M. His body was found today by his aid, Gracie Suveua. There was no apparent forced entry. The senators most popular contributions on Capitol Hill have been his working and signing the bill regarding Obergefell vs. Hodges in 2015.” The team nodded and agent _y/l/n_ commented, “So we may be looking for a person that has problems with the implications of gay marriage in the Supreme Court: religious extremists, opposing party members or a person from another radical religions that oppose LGBTQ+ rights.” Gideon agreed and replied, “That’s a great start for a profile. Hotch and Derek, would you head over to the sight of the murder. J.J. would you give Penelope our main facts so far and get her to do a database search based off of those criteria. Prentiss, _y/n_ and I will head over to the police precinct to ask some questions and gather information from the force.” After a minute of gathering in their separate groups, the teams went their separate ways to begin the hard work of the new case. Prentiss and _y/n_ weren’t thrilled to be going to the prescient. The officers were mostly of a male demographic, and often ignored comments that both female agents had made before, and turned out to be true later. Nonetheless, the trio whisked away to the station. When they arrived, the Police chief heartily shook Jason’s hand, but chose not to shake Emily of _y/n’s_. The two agents looked at each other, shrugged and moved into the sleek building after Gideon. It wasn’t until 9: 30 P.M. that the team was back to the conference room debriefing the information that they had accrued during the course of the day. After the debrief was over Aaron said, “I think we will be better use to this case if we all get some sleep and pick this up tomorrow. I don’t think that we aren’t at risk of another victim being killed tonight. If we work hard there won’t be a second death  to follow the first. Get some sleep and I’ll see you all tomorrow morning.” Each member of the team slowly got up, in their fatigue and moved out of the bright room and back toward their desks. When _y/n_ got to her desk she slumped down in her swivel chair. She pulled out her phone and looked at the message she had missed. She ignored a text from her mom and instantly scrolled down to the text that Spencer had sent her. The message read, “I’m still feeling pretty bad. I’m sorry that I can’t be useful in this case.” _y/n_ observed the text, and thought about how Spencer threw himself into his work 110% of the time and maybe it was batter that he had a break from work, even if he had to feel like shit to get to that place. 

Before she could respond to the message that Reid had sent three hours ago Morgan approached _y/l/n_ and asked, “Do you need a ride home? Taking the train right now isn’t exactly safe.”_Y/n_ looked up to him and said, “I think I’ll go check on Reid first. Would you mind taking me to his apartment?” Morgan raised his eyebrows at the statement, and after a moment of silence said, “Sure thing.” The agents moved to the parking lot where Derek’s car sat ready to take off. _Y/n_ had sold her car when she had moved to D.C. to pay the deposit on her crappy apartment. She had always told herself that she would buy a new car when she had the money. Even though she  had been working on the BAU unit for over a year she had never bought a car. She preferred the train anyway. When the agent got onto the car Morgan smoothly moved out of his spot and into the empty road. _Y/n_ pulled out her phone and texted Spencer back saying, “Sorry you’re still feeling bad. I am going to come over and see if you’re doing okay. Be there in about twenty minutes.” When she finished sending the text she put her phone in her pocket and looked out the front window at the empty road. After a minute Derek commented, “You really like him, don’t you?” The male agent had his big brother voice on when he asked the question. _Y/n_ pulled her hand through her _h/c_ before responding, “Derek you know how I feel about him. You don’t have to interrogate me. But it might be helpful if you didn’t call Spencer my boyfriend in front of him. You know how he gets when it comes to affection.” Morgan smiled. He knew that both agents had spent a good amount of time together outside of work. He thought that they made a good couple, but also that they hadn’t said anything about their feelings to each other yet. Morgan respected that they were moving slowly, that really was more their style anyway. Derek replied, “I get you. Plus, I wouldn’t want to jeopardize any chance you might have in letting him tell you that he likes you.” As he finished his statement the duo pulled into the front of Reid apartment building. She looked over to her friend and said, “You know nothing may happen. If it’s just platonic I’d get it. But I do love him.” Derek smiled at the fact that she had actually said the words out loud. He responded, “Go get him tiger.” She rolled her eyes and stepped out of the car. _Y/n_ leaned back in to say, “If I get anything it will probably be a cold from our resident genius,” before closing the door, waving and walking into the apartment. 

When she was in the apartment she took a moment to enjoy the sleek interior of the building. She was always jealous of the coffee shop that the contained. She had to walk three blocks to get to a coffee shop from her apartment. Secretly she was grateful for this fact, because if her apartment had a cafe she knew she would spend all her money there. She was brought back to the moment when the elevator dinged and opened. The agent waited for the occupants of the elevator to get out, and she stepped in once it was empty. She pressed the cool round metal button that read ‘5.’ The moving contraption stopped twice for other residents to get in the metal box before _y/n_ got out on floor five. When she was outside Spencer’s door she realized that she had never checked her messages before just showing up at his room. She pulled out her cellular device, and saw that he had not responded. _Y/l/n_ thought, ‘Maybe he’s asleep? Or maybe he’s feeling really bad and didn’t want me to come?’ The agent panicked for a moment, considering that Spencer might be too ill to respond. After a moment she calmed down and knocked on the door. It took a minute before she heard light shuffling outside the door. She could barely hear her friend say, “Who is it?” _Y/n_ rolled hey eyes at the question; all he had to do was look out his peep hole. After quietly laughing she said, “It’s _y/n_. Can I come in?” The door opened slightly and _y/n_ could see a small sliver of Dr. Reid. She tried to ascertain his sickness level from the shade of his face. Spencer stood for a minute calculating how risky it would be for him to let her in. He said in a raspy voice, “I might get you sick. You know that 3% of American’s have a 64% chance of getting a  cold during the year.” _Y/n_ smiled and replied, “I’m happy you’re still coherent enough to give me statistics Spence, and if I’m going to get a cold I’d rather it be from you, and not some random person on the street. I’m just here to make sure you don’t stay sick for longer than necessary.” Reid reconsidered the odds. How old _y/n_ was, how active she was and her general health. After he finished his assessment the young man opened the door and allowed his friend in. 

When she was in the apartment the female agent set her backpack by the front of the door. Spencer had stepped back in an attempt to lower the rate of transmission. While he was doing this _y/n_ looked him over. He was paler than usual, and his cheeks were flushed red. His hair was limply hanging around his cheeks that were more sunken in than usual. Even in his comfortable looking Yale sweatshirt and grey shorts, the man looked miserable. _Y/n_ looked at him sympathetically and said, “Maybe you should take a seat?” Reid replied, “Do I really look that bad?” She shrugged her shoulders and sighed, but didn’t tell him verbally that he looked like a kid who had fallen into a swimming pool in his clothes by accident. She walked over to the coach and Spencer followed her. He sunk down into the dark fabric of the couch leaning his head against the back. She pulled a chair up while he was seated and asked, “Can I feel your forehead?” When the words were out of her mouth _y/n_ realized how strange it sounded, but Spencer didn’t seem to think it was weird - maybe because he was slightly delirious - or he just knew to expect strange expressions that he didn’t understand come out form her lips. So he replied, “Okay.” _Y/n_ stood up from her chair and knelt on the couch next to Spencer and lifted her hand. She placed it on his forehead. His skin was hot. For the moment that _y/n’s_ hand was on his head Spencer enjoyed it. The cool sensation of her hand was relaxing. He wished it stayed there for a moment longer. The genius realized that the concept was completely illogical because the heat of his fevered body would simply begin transferring to her hand. It only took a second for _y/n_ to realize that Spencer was still running a high temperature, and even though she didn’t need to, she slipped her hand under his chin to check the temperature there too. She assumed she did this because her mom had done it when she was a kid. She pulled her hand away again for the second time and got up. Spencer leaned his head back to look at _y/n_ as his friend moved toward his bathroom. He heard the tap turn on, and after a few seconds, she returned to his side with a small hand towel. She was holding her hand under it so that it didn’t drip water on his wooden floors. “When did you last check your temperature, and how high was it?” _Y/n_ inquired as she placed the damp towel on his hot forehead. Spencer breathed a sigh of relief at the coolness of the cloth. He then responded, “I checked it two hours ago. I think it was around 100.72 degrees. She nodded at the reply and then asked, “Have you eaten yet today?” The young genius was notorious for completely forgetting that he needed to nourish his slender body on a regular basis. So she could only imagine that while he was sick, food was the last thing on his mind. He gave the response she expected of, “No. I’ve felt kind of nauseous all day, I didn’t think eating was going to help with that.” _Y/n_ rolled her eyes and said, “Have you ever considered that not eating could make you nauseous too?” The young woman got up and went into the kitchen. She opened the fridge and only found a carton of eggs and a few containers of leftovers. She turned to Spencer and asked, “Why don’t you have any food Reid?” Spencer gave a cough before defended himself by saying, “I normally go grocery shopping on Sunday, but I was sick, so I didn’t go.” _Y/l/n_ understood and said, “Okay. Well I’m going to run down to the corner store and make you some dinner. Do you have a favorite comfort food?” Spencer stood and took a few steps toward her and said, “You really don’t have to. I can take care of myself.” _Y/n_ replied, “I know you can Spence. I just want to be here to show you you don’t have to all the time. Especially when you’re sick.’ Reid bit his lip as he usually did when he was thinking. After a moment he strode to his counter and grabbed the keys to his apartment, and car, and tossed them at _y/n_. She quickly shifted left and grabbed the object being flung at her. Spencer said, “I really like grilled cheese sandwiches.” She smiled and said, “I’ll be back in ten minutes.” Before walking out of his living room and into the hall. She locked the door behind her and moved toward the elevator. 

The corner store was limited in it’s selections. But all that really mattered was that _y/n_ had a loaf of white bread, some American cheese, a kind of pathetic looking can of tomato soup, and some orange juice. With these items in her basket the girl moved to the counter and paid for the groceries with cash from her wallet. It wasn’t until she was at the counter paying that she noticed the time. The Digital clock that was displayed behind the cashier glowed in red letters 10:25 P.M. She knew that if she went back to Spencer and made dinner she was going to miss the last train. To the woman it was just a small thought that quickly came and went. She wasn’t going to leave her friend right now. If he was uncomfortable with her staying at his place overnight _y/n_ would get a taxi back to her apartment. Spencer heard the key slide in the door and knew that _y/n_ had returned. He was currently lying down on the couch and didn’t really move that much as she set down a bag on his counter. There was a moment where some glass clinked together, and a second later she was in front of him with a glass of ice water and a glass of orange juice for him. She set them down on the table next to the couch and he said, “Thanks. I’m feeling a little better now.” _Y/n_ smiled and said, “Good, if you want a distraction while I’m making the food you can look over the new case. We’ve been working on it all day and haven’t gotten very far. The files in my bag.” Spencer jolted at the chance of doing something other than feeling miserable, and he got up and found the file in _y/n’s_ backpack. As he walked back toward the couch he noticed that _y/n_ had bought herself a coffee from the shop in the lobby. She shared his taste for sugar filled beverages. Unlike him, she preferred milk in her caffeinated drinks. Spencer grabbed the warm polystyrene cup and took a sip of it while she was digging in his fridge for some butter. Spencer often stole _y/n’s_ snacks or drinks. It was the type of thing that would make her  angry for a second and then she would laugh it off for five more. He would always buy her a replacement item, often he would make it a bigger cup of coffee or bar of chocolate than the one she had before. Spencer knew that the young agent was trying to save up money so she could fly down to her _b/s’s_ college graduation in a month. It was the least he could do. After all living in D.C. could be hard on the bank account. 

It wasn’t until the soup was on the stove heating up, and the grilled cheese sandwiches were in the pan getting melty that _y/n_ started looking around for her coffee cup. After a minute of futile searching she spotted it in Spencer’s hand. She smirked, moving to the back of the couch, she pretended to look over Reid’s shoulder at the information he was examining. When the man removed the cup from his lips and lowered it toward his leg she grabbed it out of his grasp and said, “Really Reid. This is how you repay me for my help.” Halfway through the sentence and she was already laughing at his antics. She glided to a position in front of him and started bringing the drink to her own mouth when she remembered Spencer was sick. She examined the lid of the cup, and obviously some of his saliva was on the rim of the cup. Reid looked up at her and said, “Sorry I also haven’t had any coffee yet today either.” _Y/n_ sighed and handed him back the cup replying, “You know, I fear that if you asked me to murder someone I would consider it.” Spence smiled up at her.  After another five minutes or so the pair were eating a very late dinner at the kitchen table. They were talking about the details of the case. As soon as they had finished eating Spencer asked, “Are you planning on going back to your apartment tonight? The train stopped running a half hour ago.” A blush rose to _y/n’s_ cheeks and replied, “Well. I was wondering if I could just stay here tonight? I need to look through the details of the case again, and do some research. I’ll be quiet.” It wasn’t a super odd request. The pair had stayed up all night before working on cases or having movie marathons, but they had never been at one of their apartments when one, or both of them was going to be sleeping. Spencer looked over to her and said, “Of course you can. I can help you with the research if you want.” _Y/n_ smiled and said, “Thanks for letting me stay. And offering the help, but I think you should get some rest. You aren’t going to get better without sleep.” She smiled at him and began picking up the dishes from their dinner. Spencer helped her put them in the sink and said, “I promise next time it’s my turn to cook. I’ll finish the dishes if you want to take a shower before I turn in.” _Y/n_ considered that she had been in the same clothes for over ten hours and knew that a shower would relax her she said, “that would be great.” She was embarrassed to ask it, but managed to stutter out, “Do you think I could borrow one of your shirts to wear while  I work. These aren’t the most comfortable clothes.” Spencer opened his mouth for a moment at the idea and tried to clear his head of the image of her in one of his shirts. The man snapped his mouth shut and his jawline tightened before he responded, “Um, yeah. In my closet on the left hand side are all my t-shirts and sweaters. You can wear any of them.” She said, “Okay. I’ll just be a bit.” She rubbed her hand over his shoulder as she walked in the direction of his bedroom. After a minute Spencer could hear the water running. 

The lean agent scrubbed down the dishes and put them in the drainer next to the sink. When he finished with the plates and bowls, he sat back down on the couch with the intention of looking at the case again. His thoughts didn’t allow him to. Instead he was considering how he was feeling. He wondered if it was alright to want these kinds of evenings to happen more often. He knew that he wasn’t that good with women. His few attempts to woe the friends and strangers he had been interesting in had usually gone horribly wrong. Yet, unbelievably a friend had come to check up on him, and was comfortable enough to spend the night at his place. He couldn’t figure out if he had done anything differently with _y/n_ than his other friends. He also was unsure if she felt the same way he did. Maybe she was uncomfortable being here and just needed to stay out of convenience. While Reid was considering the current situation _y/n_ was doing the same. She was running shampoo through her _h/l_ hair and musing over what had happened over the last two hours. She had always wanted, hoped, to get closer to Spencer, but she was afraid that if she moved too fast that he wouldn’t be interested, or worse not want to hang around her at all. She and Spencer did share some of the same hobbies but she hoped that she knew him better than that. She knew how he shied away from physical affection, and how he always seemed so happy when she or Jason told him he had done a good job, and how she knew what his shampoo was going to smell like before she even opened the bottle. She really hoped that her presence, both literally and metaphorically wasn’t making him uncomfortable now. When she was finished with her reverie _y/n_ rinsed out her hair and stepped out of the shower, After another ten minutes Spencer looked up to see _y/n_ in another one of his YALE sweatshirt. It was so long on her shorter body that it covered her like an ill fitting dress. However, Spencer thought she could wear a potato sack and pull it off. He quickly looked away from her to hide his blush. 

The duo looked over the cases and _y/n_ hooked up to his WiFi on her computer. After this was finished and _y/n_ had bought herself another coffee (using Reid’s card), she recommended he go to bed. It was already 12:00 A.M. at this point. Spencer relented and headed to his bedroom. Before he went in he said, “Goodnight. If you’ve got any questions you can ask. Just knock on the door.” She smiled and said goodnight back, and told him to sleep well. The agent continued her work for another three hours before she moved to the couch to try and get more comfortable to do her work. The next morning Spencer found _y/n_ laying down on the couch she was clutching a pillow to her chest and had her left leg draped over the blanket she had covered her body with. Spencer dared not walk past her torso in case she was indecent below the leg she had over the blanket. He was feeling much better today, and wished that he could go into work with her, however, it was company policy to wait a full twenty-four hours after a fever to return to work. Spencer knew it was for the safety of his coworkers, but he hated being away from his job. The man knelt down and tapped _y/n_ on the shoulder. She sighed slightly before opening her eyes to see him. She rubbed her eyes and sat up. Spencer quickly averted her eyes as she rose. She looked down at herself and realized that her _f/c_ boy shorts were peeking out from beneath Spencer’s YALE sweater. Her face turned red and she coughed, stood up and pulled the sweater down. She looked at her phone and quietly cursed, “Fuck, I’m going to be late.” Spencer knew that if _y/n_ was fast, and hurried she could catch the train and make it in time. He said, “Go change. If you’re fast you can make the 7:30 A.M. train.” _Y/n_ nodded and grabbed her clothes and ran into his bedroom. She shut the door and didn’t even bother to lock it as she stripped and quickly changed. Reid, who had woken up about thirty minutes before her, and had grabbed some coffee for her and himself. He had meant to wake her up once he had woken up, but he couldn’t disturb her when he had seen her so peaceful. When the woman came out of his room in her usual black pants and satin shirt, she looked ready to fight the crime in the city as she usually did. She put on her shoes and grabbed her things, stuffing them into her backpack. Spencer cleared his throat after she was finished and handed her the coffee. She smiled at him and said, “Thank you so much Spencer, for letting me stay, and the coffee.” Spencer smiled and hesitantly asked, “Would you come back again tonight? In case I need help again. Or feel bad?” It took a moment for the words to register and _y/n_ said “Huh?” And maybe it was because it was from lack of sleep, or her just being awake for five minutes, but the meaning of the words struck her after she had responded. She realized that Spencer wanted, that he really wanted to spend another night like they had had yesterday. She smiled up at him and replied, “Of course I’ll come back tonight Spence. I’d love that.” The word love was not lost on the genius, and he took a minute trying to and express his feeling, saying, “You know I really like you. I mean I appreciate you, or I feel things about you…” _Y/n_ wanted really really badly to hear the words come from him, but she knew that she didn’t have a moment to lose or she would be late. She hated cutting him off, but reluctantly said, “I know Spencer, me too.” 

At hearing this Spencer gave a heartwarming smile and leaned down to hug her. She quickly gave him a kiss on the forehead and cheek. She then let go of him, and ran out the door, shouting over her shoulder, “I’ll see you tonight!”

[waywardfangirl]

Both @captain-aralias and @palimpsessed ​did really nice posts to share their fics from this year as well as their thoughts on what they wrote, and I enjoyed reading their posts (and their fics!) so much that I thought I would take them up on their open invitation to do one too! I’m a big believer in keeping lists of your accomplishments to look at on days when self-doubt creeps in, so I encourage anyone else who might be interested to do this too! (All the questions are copied from @captain-aralias)

List of Completed Fics this year:

I wrote ten fics this year, as well as starting a ton of WIPs, which is amazing to me, considering I have only written fic once before in my life!

Slow - General, 3k

We’re Not in Genovia Anymore - Teen, 28k

Promises - General, 3k

A Privilege to Love You - Teen, 7k

Early Riser - General, >1k

Write This Down - General, 3k

As You Wish - Teen, 13k

The View from the Veranda - General, 4k

Down By The Sea - General, 2k

Just Want You to Know Who I Am - General, 1k (written in 2020, posted in 2021)

Total: 10 fics, 67k words, 100% Snowbaz

Pretty good for what is truly the first year that I have been an active participant in fandom!

Questions answered below the cut.

Best/worst title?

A Privilege to Love You is my favorite title, because I think the line is just so sweet, and it makes my heart melt.

We’re Not in Genovia Anymore is definitely my worst title, because that was just the placeholder name I gave the WIP, but then I got so used to it I forgot to change it to something better before posting. I still cringe a bit at that one.

Best/worst summary?

l am horrifically indecisive, so I have a few summaries that I like. Just Want You To Know Who I Am is short and sweet, and I think it conveys exactly what I want it to:

Baz is fine. He's fine. Everything is fine. (It just isn't.)

~A fic about being loved in all the little ways~

But I also really liked the quotes I pulled for The View from the Veranda, As You Wish, and A Privilege to Love You.

Early Riser also has a summary that I let break my heart:

Baz wakes up early now, even though Simon doesn’t.

I does very little to convey what the fic is about, but after reading the fic it hurts like I wanted it to, sooo.....

I think that Promises has the worst summary though:

Inspired by the song "Promises" from the musical Hadestown.

Simon and Baz have spent the last three years working on themselves and on their relationship. Now it's time for their next step together.

Best/worst first line?

Baz says it best to open The View from the Veranda:

I am not a man accustomed to enduring want.

However, Simon deserves an honorable mention for starting us off right in As You Wish:

Baz is such a prick.

As for worst opening lines, I don’t really think I have any. I have some that stand better as an opening paragraph than an opening line, but I place a lot of importance on the first line of a story, so I like to make sure all mine are strong.

Best/worst last line?

I am not going to spoil any last lines for anyone (I cover up the last page of books when I read to reveal it slowly, word by word, so I take last lines seriously!), but I will say that As You Wish has an adorably predictable last line that I love.

For worst last line, I have to say Slow. I liked the line itself when I wrote it, but then I learned later that people were interpreting it in a more steamy way than what I had intended, and because I feel like Slow is such an innocent fic and really highlights how important it is for Simon to not be rushed into every decision he makes, I don’t like that it sounds like he and Baz rushed into something else. (I just meant that they talked and maybe kissed a bit! That’s it!)

Looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, less than you thought, or about what you predicted?

On December 31st, 2019, I was pet sitting when I came across a prompt for a Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement Snowbaz AU. I impulsively started to write, even though I had only written one other fic in my life (Check, Please!), and I had never written Snowbaz before. I kind of thought that maybe I would write one fic and that would be all, and that maybe one fic is all I would ever write, but I am so happy to have been wrong about that! I wrote way more than I could have predicted, and I even did NaNoWriMo! (I failed NaNoWriMo too, and I’m okay with that, because I want writing to be something I do for fun, not something that stresses me out.)

As a fun side note, Carry On is a fandom that I have returned to many times in my life, and it seems to have a special place on New Year’s Eve/New Year’s Day for me. I was given Fangirl as a Christmas present, and started reading it on New Year’s Eve, only to finish it and realize that the new year had arrived while I was engrossed in the book. I have spent multiple New Year’s Eves since engrossed in a reread of the book, or reading fic, and so it feels really fitting that I got into properly writing fic for Carry On as the year turned over.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted last year?

Literally all of this was unexpected, as I never planned on writing any more fic, but I think I am most surprised to have written multiple songfics. I never read many songfics, and didn’t often care for them, but I wrote Promises off of the song from Hadestown, Write This Down off of George Strait’s song, and then Just Want You to Know Who I Am because Caity got the Goo Goo Dolls stuck in my head.

What’s your favourite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest.

My favorite might actually be my most popular, so I’ll go with my close second favorites (it’s a tie)

A Privilege to Love You is a soulmate au, and those are my favorite things ever. I also received some of the best feedback on this one, and I feel like I did a lot of things that worked really well in this fic.

The View from the Veranda is just so wonderful for me though, it combines my love of history with absolute silliness for a friend (I love you Liz!!!), @krisrix did some INCREDIBLE art for it, and I just had so much fun writing it.

Okay, NOW your most popular story.

As You Wish was the most popular, hands down, with more hits, kudos, comments, and bookmarks than any other fic I wrote. It’s also the fic of mine that I reread the most, because it makes me so happy and I love all the silly moments.

Story most underappreciated by the universe?

We’re Not in Genovia Anymore is probably the answer here. This isn’t entirely backed up by metrics, since it does have more hits and kudos than some of my other fics, but for how long it is and the work that went into it, I think it only got a portion of the attention I was hoping it would. That’s mostly my fault though! It was the first fic I wrote for this fandom, and so I have definitely grown as a write since! Additionally, while I feel like it has a lot of great moments and fantastic lines, I have some lackluster bits too, and it really suffered from not having a beta (I was too shy to ask anyone back then). It’s also an AU of a movie that isn’t as widely viewed as I previously thought, so that didn’t help either, and as I already said, this fic could have a much better title.

All that aside though, the people who have read and talked to me about this fic have really seemed to like it, so I’m glad that I did right by my fellow Princess Diaries 2 fans! (and all of the wonderful people who read it and commented nice things having never seen the movie, y’all rock!)

Story that could have been better?

Everything I wrote before asking someone to beta. I just talked about what I would improve in We’re Not In Genovia Anymore, but Promises could use some work too. Having a few wonderful friends help me edit my fics has really improved what I post!

Sexiest story?

Oh gosh, I am not someone who writes sexy things.

Having said that, The View from the Veranda was written in the style of a bodice ripper, so I think that makes it the sexiest story by default. Kris’s art also enhances its sex appeal by at least 200% (I laughed out loud when I was making the list at the start of this post, because I had entirely forgotten that fic is rated G - honestly, that tells you everything you need to know about me, my romance novel fic can be read by children haha) (I might give it a T rating at some point, just because I feel like it should have that)

**I just remembered the bonus chapter for As You Wish.... that might be the sexiest thing I’ve written haha 🤣

Saddest story?

Early Riser - I am a big believer in giving everyone who deserves it a happy ending, but this one is just an interlude of sadness and depression without any resolution in sight.

(If you read it though, please know that in my head they do get therapy and things do get better! Snowbaz always has a happy ending in my fics, even if I don’t write it out fully)

Most fun?

As You Wish - this one to me feels like the happy chaos of running and sliding around a big house in stocking feet, and I don’t have a better way to describe it than that. There’s a tiny bit of angst from Baz, and a little bit of panic from Simon, but I was smiling and having so much fun while writing this fic, and I really think it comes across.

Story with single sweetest moment?

A Privilege to Love You - I’ll let you decide which of the many sweet moments is actually the sweetest ❤

Hardest story to write?

Promises, no question about it. I had written two fics by that point, and people had been so nice, and some of you lovely folks had even started tagging me in WIP Wednesday posts and in Six Sentence Sunday posts, but I felt like I had no inspiration left and I kept worrying that I wouldn’t be able to write again. So, I forced myself to write something, and it felt like pulling teeth (and it honestly wasn’t very good), but I gifted it to the person who had been my biggest cheerleader and who had tagged me a million times, and that’s how @foolofabookwyrm and I became friends. Writing the fic sucked, but her friendship is worth it, a million times over 💜💜💜

Easiest/most fun story to write?

The View from the Veranda. I’m a historian, and I work a lot with primary sources and spend time speaking with others in 18th century language, so once I got into my “work mindset” the words just flowed. This was also a silly, happy story for me, because I included a lot of jokes for Liz, and there are a ton of details that are just hilarious if you work at the same place I do (sorry that none of you do, but let me just tell you, the descriptions of Simon are all based off of my most attractive colleague, and at least 15% of this fic is silly quotes from work). I think this was only supposed to be about a thousand words long, and I messaged Kris multiple times while writing just to tell him that it was getting out of control and I couldn’t stop writing 😂

Did any stories shift your perceptions of the characters?

Writing for Agatha in We’re Not in Genovia Anymore really made realize how much some of her (canon) story resounded with me, and I liked the deeper character study I ended up doing for her. I’m still always going to be the most in love with Baz, but I have a deeper connection to Agatha now too.

Most overdue story?

It’s still overdue. I have so many WIPs, at least seven of which are soulmate AUs, and I just keep starting more. In terms of actual planned release date though? I started writing a The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue AU for NaNoWriMo, with the intention of publishing it in January. It’s already the longest fic I’ve ever written, and I don’t think I’m even a quarter of the way done with it. I wasn’t happy writing for NaNo, because I don’t do well with creativity on a deadline, and I chose to pause work on that fic so I can actually enjoy writing it and end up with something I like once I finally return to it. Apologies to those who are anxiously awaiting the fic, I do hope to finish it this year, and I won’t post until it’s all done, so you’ll get a very rapid update schedule when it does come out!

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

I signed up for my first fandom event! I participated in the Secret Snowflake event, and wrote Down By The Sea for the wonderful @fight-surrender (and ended up with ideas for some other new fics too)! Even though I was actively failing NaNoWriMo when I signed up, I did manage to complete my fic on time, and I learned that it wasn’t quite as daunting as I was expecting it to be. (My biggest problem was my laptop breaking and having to do almost everything on my phone - I also learned once again just how amazing Liz is, as she helped me format and post to ao3, since I couldn’t do that properly without a computer)

I struggle with being creative on a deadline, but wanting to write a little over 1k in a month was much more achievable than feeling stressed about writing 50k in a month!

This year’s theme and the story that demonstrates it most:

I like the idea of the inevitability of love. I adore soulmate AUs, because I love the idea of a universe where not only does someone have a perfectly matched other person, but that there is a surefire way to find them. Even though I only published one soulmate AU this year, I feel like every time I write Snowbaz I am writing about a couple where love will, inevitably, win. In my mind they are always going to have a happy ending somewhere down the line where they are just purely in love. Even though love doesn’t magically fix everything, it’s still incredibly powerful, and I only want to create stories where Simon and Baz truly love each other.

Of course, with that as the theme, A Privilege to Love You has to be the fic that best demonstrates the idea of inevitable love - it’s a soulmate AU and a universe where Simon exercises his free will.

What are your fic writing goals for next year this year?

Finish and publish my Gentleman’s Guide AU

Finish and publish more soulmate AUs (I have so many WIPs you guys)

Plan more before writing

Work on improving dynamic scenes and the overall flow of my fics - I sometimes feel like I have too many lulls, and I want to write in a more engaging way

Promote my own work more! I am partially doing this post because there are multiple fics that I never shared on here! I plan to make banners for all of the fics I write this year, and to post them on tumblr at the same time I upload them to ao3.

The last few years have been a time of tremendous personal growth for me, and I really feel like I’m starting to understand who I am as a person, settle into myself, and like who I am. I’m thrilled to discover that fandom is still part of who I am and what I enjoy, and that I have more creative outlets in my life now than I ever expected to. My biggest goal is just to keep building on all of that, to use fic to explore who I am, to reflect what I like, make myself happy with my writing, and to hopefully make at least a few of you happy with my stories too!

[ldyinblckmsk]

Always the extra, never the lead (part 2)

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki X F! Reader

Genre: Fluff(?)

Words: 2.6k

A/N: Hey! Sorry for the wait, forgive me for being so lazy omgg. I'm really having a hard time how to end this, so I'm sorry if I just end it like that and feels like rushed. I feel like it's up to your imagination on how you'll pereceive it lololol (i'mjustsolazytocontinue). Thank you for reading! And I'm writing another angst so if you want to get your heart broken again, stay tuned ig.

Shocked. Confused. He didn't actually know what he's feeling that time as he watched you bidding your goodbye with that forced smile. He didn't dare move as if the the gravity was pulling him too hard from his seat.

All he can do is watch your retreating form with a conflicted expression as he try to sort his mind.

He already made a decision. And that is to put a distance between the two of you. So, why? Why did that the fucking organ inside in his chest feels so heavy when you called his nickname with a dejected voice as if that will be the last time you'll him that?

That is a mystery that he didn't want to find out. Yet.

He left the restaurant as soon as you went home, pissed with the nosy extras that's giving him a cruel look for making a girl cry.

Everything went fine after the incident but it doesn't mean that his life will go back to normal. He pushed you away, even though you said that you'll still be his friend, the bridge connecting the two of you is already replaced with a big crater. As much as he wants to act normal, something inside him screams that he's doing thubgs wrong and that irritates him to hell.

"Hello, earth to Bakugou!" A sweet voice makes him go back to reality. His eyes widen for a bit when he saw your face but it immediately disappeared when his crimson eyes fell to the girl he's currently dating. "Geez, Bakugou. If you feel sick, I think you shouldn't pushed yourself coming here."

"Huh? What yer' talking about, shitty woman?!" His tone rises than he intended as he take a bite on his now cold food. It's been a week since they really started going out for real. Taking a walk here and there, eating outside, and such. It's nothing really special. Just like how it used to be when they were young.

Akiya came home from New York last year after her parents died in a villain attack there. Mitsuki's the one who offered her to stay ath their home for a while. She's his childhood quirkless friend, well, technically his mother forced him to befriend her since her mom's a close friend. She was devastated at that time and Bakugou's there to comfort her, having a great sense of urge to protect her.

"Oh? So, you're fine after all." She laughed, teasing him for his outburst which just made him sigh. "You know...," she said trailing her words. "Someone told me that if you don't want to feel regret at the end, you don't have to overthink something and just let your heart decides."

Her philosophical words makes him furrows his brows, not really knocking any sense to him. "Quit the Confucius wannabe act, shitty woman. What the hell are you on?"

She chuckles. "What I'm saying is...before it's too late, you should chase the girl you really love. Y/n, that's her name, right?"

"What the fuck are you trying to say?"

"C'mon, Bakugou! Quit being a dick  and go get your girl. I know you since childhood and, gosh, you're so obvious."

He didn't talk back, not that he doesn't have any snarky remark but he just want to listen and get enlightened. "You didn't really love me." She said that as if it weighs nothing. "We both know it. What we have between us is just platonic. Your urge of protecting me is nothing but a hero instinct really. Like a responsiblity, that's all. You just thought that I'm the one you wanted to protect the most because I'm weak and you already thought that that's love."

He watched her crossing her arms, brow raising up as she tries to lecture him about love and his crooked . "It's clear that you love her. That's why I was so confused when you asked me out. I mean, what the fuck's wrong with your judgement? You're so smart and yet really stupid."

"Then, why did you still accept me?!" His voice raising up, feeling the pent up frustrations as he function his brain. The hazy, cloudy water he's looking at slowly  getting clearer as the girl, who was supposedly dating him is, helping him unravel his feelings. "I'd like to see how long you'd last but I'm getting frustrated at our set up considering how tangled your feelings."

•••

With the energetic sun outside, class 3-A students decided to spend their Sunday inside their dorm. Gathering at the common area as they ramble about how dreading and tedious the day is. As for you, it was just another day for sulking, not really feeling to socialize. A week of holing yourself in your room, avoiding to cross path with a certain someone as you try to heal yourself. It just feels so good lazying around in your room with soft blanket wrapping you up like burrito.

But, of course, someone will come barging in your room and destroy the peace you once had. Hands on her hip, the pink haired looked at you like a mother going to reprimand her child. "I swear, y/n, I'll trash you're room if you didn't stand up right now and have fun with us."

"C'mon y/n-chan! Don't let Bakugou spoil your day." You winced when the bubbly, round face uttered his name. That's one of the reason why you chose to trapped yourself in you room. Hearing any signs related to him just brings back the humiliation and despair you felt that night. "Girl, I'll tell you get over it. You're too good for him. It's his loss for letting you go away."

"Uh, that's absolutely right! And don't get me started with that girl he chose over you. It's clear that you're much better and yet..." Mina intejected empasing the word to prove her point, shaking her head as she clicked her tongue. This just lead Momo to stop the the acid user from dissing the girl. "Mina, don't pick on Akiya. She's a sweet girl."

Tsuyu nodded, agreeing with Momo. "You know they said that the key of moving on is to fill yourself with happiness. So, push those bitterness away from your soul and come downstairs to have fun."

A small smile forming on your lips, grateful for having a best group of friends. Their comforting words and the way they cheer you up makes your heart swell, tears welling up your eyes. 

Fits of laughter welcomes you as your eyes met the chaotic state of your classmates. It's true that they're really having fun. Kaminari, Mineta, and Sero are in the middle, standing as they act something ridiculous while Kirishima, Tenya, Jirou are sitting on the large couch, trying not to laugh so hard as they guessed. They really took charades in the next level. Your other classmates are just on the other side of the couch watching the game, shouting if they figured it out. 

Mina pushed you towards them as the both of you squeezed yourselves at the large couch, sitting beside the crimson locks. You smiled at him when he noticed your presence, feeling awkward, you focused your gaze on the goofy duo.

You're barely containing your laughter when they turn their backs on you, for sure it will be something that will make Ms. Joke insecure with her banters. "Hey, why are you taking so–"

Jirou can't finish her sentence when the sparky blond abruptly faces you. You were losing it, hands on your aching stomach as unsophistacated laughs escape your mouth. Lo and behold, Kaminari with his newly styled hair, split in half as Sero's tape keep it standing. Chest puffing up and flexing his biceps while copying the familiar pro-hero's famous smile.

"That's an awful version of All Might, sparky." You said, cheeks burning up after you calmed down yourself. "Hey, you hurt my feelings, y/n." You cackled at his response, eyes rolling at his childishness.

"But I'm giving you an A plus for making us laugh though."

"Well, it's my pleasure to put a smile on your face." Eyes winking as he shoot his famous thumb gun to you. Oh god, he's really flirting at you in front of your classmates. You snort when you saw Mina playfuly raising her brows, giving you a knowing look.

Another round was immediately ended with Mina shouting the answer on top of her lungs. It was really obvious when Denki held the pervert grape boy and raised him up in the air, immediately giving away the answer for the popular pose in the Lion King.

You saw Denki walking towards you with a playful smile painted on his face. You yelp when he suddenly pulls your hand, making you stand up, guiding you to the middle. You didn't want to spoil the fun, so you just let him do what he's planning about.

"Okay, okay, this time let's change our players! Mineta, please move aside." He said shoving the tiny creature, not letting him protest. "Let the princess here shine with me."

You heard your classmates shout, the girls cheering you while giving you a thumbs up. You both looked at the whiteboard held by Momo, reading the next word to guess, you sighed.

"Oh! T-that's..." Your partner stuttered, scratching the back of his neck as he looked at you flustered. "What? That's really not hard."

It's true though. The word was simple. All they gotta do is imitate the the 'titanic pose'. "I-I..uh..okay."

He snuggled behind you, slowly wrapping his arms around your waist. Most of the girls are squeling, too excited at the scene. You raised your arms, spreading just like what Rose did, making your shirt rise a bit. You felt the sparky blond's slender fingers making contact at the little exposed skin, unknowingly sending a tiny jolts. You flinch at the ticklish feeling, leaving a gasp from your mouth. It seems that Denki's purposely tickling you through his electricity.

"Oh my god! S-stop it, Denki." You try to slap his hand away as you let another cackle. "Make me."

The game is now long forgetten when Mina decided to team up with the blind and hold both of your wrists. You're helplessly laying on the floor as he continue to tickle you. Unladylike snort escaping your lips while wagging your head, kicking your foot as you try to pry his hands away.

The class president's scolding Kaminari, hands moving robotically, but it just falls on deaf ears. Your other classmates are having a pillow fight that you didn't  who started it. The common room is now a mess.

Snarky as ever he is, the sight before him adds fuel to the raging fire inside him. The girl beside him is all smiles upon entering the famous UA. Deciding that it's better for her to tag along with him to help him chose the right path and not make mistakes again. Playing cupid and matchmaking really excites her.

"Are they having a party here?" The sweet girl whispered as he scans the now messy common room, pillows being thrown while some are tackling each other. The first thing his eyes land on is the sight of you tackled by the electric user as you laugh your lungs out.

You are really having fun.

"Oh god, are we too late?" Is he? The thought scared the fuck out of him. Your eyes widen when you spot him by the door...with the girl he's dating beside him.

"What the fuck's going on here?!" He yelled, making his classmate's head snapped towards his direction, eyeing the the two of them. Akiya waved her hand, shyly greeting them with a small 'hello'.

His jaw clench, darting eyes on his idiot blond friend. "Bakubro, you're home.." He said, acknowledging his presence as his eyes moved to the girl beside him. "...and you brought your girlfriend."

You were just fine a while ago. Laughing so hard til tomorrow. For the first time after you got rejected, you got a taste of happiness and yet the universe doesn't really want you to make the most out of it. There he was, scowl on his face as he introduce his girlfriend to the Bakusquad.

You classmates began dispersing as they went back to their own rooms, realizing that the fun has ended.

Something's really tugging your heart too hard for your own liking as if it wants to torture you with a heart ache. You didn't know that you're frozen in place like a fucking statue.

Mina crept beside you, nudging your shoulder snapping out of your trance. Denki already let you go upon seeing the fuming new arrival, throwing a glare at him. As you get a hold of yourself, you decided to go back to your room.

But the gods are not done with you, telling that you're still have an important role to fulfill. Someone screams your name, your mission of going back to the room peacefully were interrupted.

"Hey, y/n!" You muttered a curse before facing them. You wanted to raise your eyebrow, be bitchy, and act like you just didn't get your ass dumped by the man she's clinging to. Honey and flowers hit your nose when she engulfs you in a hug. You were surprised by the sudden close of proximity.

"Oh! Hey, uh, You know me?"

You internally slapped yourself at the awkwardness. Still, you're surprised that you're not a stuttering mess. Your heart leapt when your eyes met his vermillion eyes. He's fucking staring straight at you brazenly.

"Of course! Bakugou told me a lot about you." You noticed how the grumpy man opens his mouth to protest but he was shushed by his girlfriend.

"I just hope he's not dissing me." You chuckle, proud of yourself that you're still not crumbling. "No, don't worry it's the opposite actually."

"Well, that's assuring, I guess." Oh, you really want to save by someone from this awkward situation. "And I have something really, really important to say before I went home."

Soon, you found yourself trapped with the couple in your room. Bakugou is just standing by the door, arms crossed on his chest as he sigh while her girlfriend sat at the edge of your bed, moving her head as a signal for the blond to get moving. You just watched them, dumbfounded and clueless on what's going on. "We already broke up."

Your head snapped to her direction, confused. "Huh?"

You're lying if you swore that you didn't almost jump in glee upon hearing that. A bit of hope swelling inside you as you wished that it isn't some kind of prank. But you're confused, why the hell did she informed you that.

"Y/n, I just want to tell you that that man there is so dumb when it comes to feelings and emotions. I want you to listen to him. Okay, I've done my part. Now, Bakugou, it's your turn."

She said getting up, ready to leave the two of you. A smile etched on her face as she watch your confused face. "Good luck!" She whispered to his hear, giving him a playful salute before turning the knob. Now, leaving the two characters who met again in a new act.

Well, people met a lot of characters who play a different role in their lives. Most of them even minor roles will give a new meaning and lessons that will help them nurture themselves. To say the least Akiya is a character who plays an inportant role in the story. She's just there to build the climax of the tale who help the two conflicted protagonists achieved their 'happy ending'.

Taglist: @tspice283 @anime-weeb-bnha @bakugou-is-my-daddy @deneuves @shystudentcollector @nightlockowl @strangerbhnathings @toobsessedsstuff

[cake-in-a-tin]

My thoughts rewatching all the Harry Potter movies back to back

forgive typos, and be warned - there's a lot...

the first two have a smaller amount of thoughts for some reason, idk why

��Philosopher’s Stone

teeny harry haha

that snake is so beautiful

no post on sundays bro

hi hagrid

how did the dursleys get off the island tho

aw harry is so teeny and innocent

ollivander’s entrance is so iconic, like i want to enter every room like that

hermione is so great already

and you are…

‘you’ve got dirt on your nose by the way, did you know?’

haha tiny malfoy

TREVOR! + neville

that death glare mcgonagall omg

oof snape really hates harry

it's leviooosa not leviosaaa

troll in the dungeon!!!

hi fluffy

ew norbert is gross to be completely honest

creepy malfoy staring at the window

malfoy being sassy wow

‘nighty night…’ whyyy filch?

oof ron are u ok

bye hermione

voldemort is kinda cute with his big eyes

harry really just killed quirrell jeez man

alas earwax

Chamber of Secrets

ah go away dobby don't be weird

yes the car with fred and george

oof bye uncle vernon haha

ah awkward let go of harry lockhart we hate u

haha ginny is iconic

rons face when the train comes omg

ron can drive? that's impressive…

ooh a voice scaryyy

hey colinnn

eat slugs - yas

let go of his arm lockhart

uh oh colin is petrified

hahaha snape annihilated lockhart wow

gosh moaning myrtle is annoying

tom riddle is such a weirdo hgh

ew spiders

lockhart is hilarious when he has lost his mind wow

yas fawkes

ew he just stuck the sword right through its head didn't he...

powerful sock…

go away lucius ur annoying

Prisoner of Azkaban

ugh aunt marge blow up already

sassy harry tm

tom is iconic

so is crookshanks tbh

the knight bus kinda sucks in the movie tho

yess lupin hi

ugh shut up trelawney

ah the best scene aka harry and draco being sassy towards each other

‘it’s killed meh!’

the other best scene: lupin, boggarts and the record player

love when they are eating sweets and just being good friends

yay marauders map - iconic fred and george

nice snowman also

my dad didn't strut and neither do i - yeah right...

yes leave hermione

trelawney stop being creepy

take that malfoy

harry third wheeling

yas remus save sirius

"old married couple" haha snape knows what's up

die peter lol

haha yes they will chop your leg off ron definitely

ugh harry stop being noble

haha yes mentioning the marauders

ew stop peter

oh no werewolf

sirius is so dramatic haha he cant stop turning into a werewolf my dude

bad idea yes ron i agree

oof fight him sirius

no sirius!

the dementorssss

no harry that's not a real patronus dude

nom eat the little soul nugget nice

ah no they're gonna kiss sirius nooo

scabbers did it ok... shut up ron

dumbledore just smacking ron's broken leg and being mysterious

and enter many time paradoxes

‘this is not normal’ hahahah wow harry

yess save buckbeak dudes

yas beautiful patronus dude

this music tho wow

au revoir sirius

I wonder how many stairs they ran up...

poor ron so confused

that bird just got squished no

don't leave lupin

please tell harry about the marauderss

i love lupin omg

ooh a firebolt thanks godfather

the ending face wow

Goblet of Fire

ooh nagini hello

yay frank you will die soon so enjoy your tea

dr who!

ah voldemort's creepy little hand tm

yes ron is covering his non existent boobs wow

hermione's so mad 4 some reason

yes cedric diggory in a tree

everyone has long hair why

isn't just any manky old boot mate

cedric amos and arthur are show offs

feet off the table!

i luv magik

wow krum is enjoying himself

Why is draco wearing a suit?

lucius is very ominous

think ur in luvvv ron

is there no winky in this? sad

harry is so awkward omg

bye hedwig find sirius even though the ministry cant

oh bonjour beauxbatons

wow so dramatic here come the durmstrang peoples

wow run filch ao athletic

ew the beauxbatons entrance is so weird and compared to the durmstrang one is kind of sexist

ow poor flitwick a fork to the hand that's gotta hurt

moody is so dramatic

dumbledore already shouting nice

why does he have so many bugssss

ah that is a creepy spider

poor neville he has to have cuppa with moody that sucks

yess fred and george back at it again

hermione ruining the vibe

HARRY POTTER DIDJA PUTCHA NAME IN THE GOBLET OF FIYAH dumbledore asked calmly

what would happen if harry was just like "nope"? would he die that would be interesting

igh rita skeeter go away ur creepy my dude

hate it when ur eyes glisten with ghosts of ur past

yas sirius in a fire

"who are u talking to?" "im vlogging ron" (how it should have gone. harry should have a youtube channel just saying)

poor harry a third wheel yet again between madame maxime and hagrid ew

wow draco in a tree, why? so many people in trees this movie

"nyaaah"

malfoy as a ferret is my favorite character

my father will hear about thissss

omg rita get outttt

fight the dragonnnn

feel like someone should have stopped the dragon after it broke free... idk *shrugs*

it would be so boring if u were watching the tournament because you can't see anything that's happening most of the time, only for the 1st task and a bit if the 3rd task.

knew u wouldnt die harry, lose a leg - or an arm -pack it in all together? nevaaaaa

god just open it harry

ron ur so awkward...

harry spitting out his drink will never not be funny to me

oh yes the gorgeous dress robes

poor ron has it tough, having to dance with mcgonagall and having ro wear those robes...

*babbling bumbling band of baboons*

the twins are hilarious in this haha

aw neville!

snape is really violent can't 2 boys discuss their love lives or lack thereof in peace

ron's jealous of viktor krum haha

love harry just being so confused and saying "spectacular" when cedric speaks to him.

given the fact harry literally told him the task cedric didn't do that much to help.

ugh no myrtle stop

harry going "do i" when neville tells him he seems tense is such a mood

harry's hair when he was swimming haha

just leave them harryy omg too noble

harry holds his breath for a long time after his gills go away - longer than i can

fred and george making fun of harry having 'moral fiber' is exactly what i would do in the situation

mr crouch stop being weird

yes finally singing hoggy warty hogwarts

oh hi mr crouch, taking a nap in the forest are u? cool

i would say do not stick your face in the pensieve but that's just me

Dr Who changed a bit since i last saw him, he's a bit mental now...

snape is so iconic wow

"bubble juice sir?" bahaha sassy harry back at it again

this music is so great

i would freak out if i had to go in that maze it's so creepy and feels like it would be so filled with jumpscares just nope

"a cauldron? What are u guys gonna do - eat me? that's gross!" feels like it should be in the movie

aw baby voldemort is so cute

ugh just chop off another finger or something wormtail jeez so much drama

how is voldemort still alive - the cauldron is on fire??

the movie is also really missing voldemort dancing with the death eaters

u dont have hair my dude stop caressing ur bald head

voldemort has lovely long fingernails

lucius' blonde hair poking out from beneath his hood is so funny 4 some reason.

"i can touch u now" is really not a good sentence

bit awkward to return with a dead body...

its alright harry *shakes his head violently*

uh oh that's not professor moody its barty jr

Order of the Phoenix

halfway done woo

the intro music is still a jam the 5th time

that is big whinging not little whinging

hi big D what a great nickname...

uh oh dementorrrrr

yes mrs figg the most iconic character in the movies

harry looks a lot like frodo baggins

yay the order is rescuing him finally

yes remus and sirius and mrs weasley and everyone

ooh kreacher

jeez hermione attack him

crookshanks attacking the extendable ears is just what my cat would do

cute godfather godson moments yeass

arthur weasley trying to function as a muggle is just so wholesome

ugh not umbridge ew

yes clear those charges

aw padfoot yess

wow that's a lovely coat sirius

voldemort looks great in a suit wow

didn't harry see his parents die? why couldn't he see the thestral before?

yes luna!

oh shut up umbridge oh my goddd

yes ron u tell seamus like a good friend

sassy harry reaching full potential

ugh umbridge sucks wow

so evil torturing harry

yes weasleys wizards wheezes

luna is so pure and perfect

the friendship between her and harry is so amazing

yas tell umbridge, mcgonagall

trelawneys bad but she doesn't deserve to be kicked out by umbridge

oof professor dumbledore just straight up ignored harry

yes harry just say you're rubbish that will make people think your sane

yes hermione break the rules!

oof ginny is jealous of cho liking harryyyy

yay the room of requirement!

dumbledores army is so fabuloussss

nigel is amazing and i love him

wow hermione just knocked out ron haha

harry potter the boy who made cheesy inspirational speeches

wow ginny is so powerful

harry and cho are so awkward eeehhhh

just because you’ve got the emotional range of a teaspoon *cringy forced laughter*

occlumency lessonnssss yay what fun

cute christmas scenes wow

ooh the family tree and sirius' backstory yay

harry u aren't becoming like voldemort u are going through pubertyyyy its hormonesssssss

yay hagrid finally

oh no it's bellatrix get ready for crazinesss

poor sirius he keeps getting the blame for everything that's so unfair

is neville tall or is harry short, because there is a huge height difference

aw all the patronuses are so cute

uh oh here comes umbridge...

noo they are captured and dumbledores lying waaa

oof dumbledore is as sassy as harry at some points - "dumbledores got style"

no umbridge is heaf and shes fricking evilllll

grawp yess. hes kind of cutee

ron is jealous of grawp bahaha

sheesh snape chill

yes a bit of maraudrrss aahhhh

thats it? noo

aw fred and george comforting a little boy is too cute!

yes fred and george!!! disrupt those OWLS!!

no harry! he doesn't have sirius nooo

yes hermione fake it till u make it ( or until u get umbridge attacked by grawp )

yay the centaurs are here as well get herrr

'i must not tell lies' the sass omg

jeez how many prophecies are there wow

pranked, harry dude ur kind of rubbish

well done ginny you've made all the prophecies fall

yh id rather watch my friends die than give u the prophecy, don't really like them tbh

yas sirius!

the order yes

you're beautiful sirius

noooooo siriusss 😭😭😭😭

yooo voldemort my dudeee

hope the ministry has a massive roomba

the DA just come in to see harry writhing on the floor and are like 'cool'

nice one fudge finally realised he's back cool, cool

ah yes angsty harry tm

aw poor luna, her shoes are all stolen.

luna is an icon though

we have something voldy doesn't - noses hahahaha

Half Blood Prince

uh oh the dark mark is here

death eaters as well fun

fenrir greyback!!

oh no not this bridge! i went across it and i was scared af

dumbledore appearing out of nowhere is so funny

ew slughorn no

wow i need dumbkwdored tidying spell so badly

slughorn collecting people is kind of creepy tbh

im so glad i dont have as many staircases as the weasleys

oh yes narcissa and bellatrix being shifty

oops snape u probs shouldnt have done that

yess fred and george!!!

weasleys wizard wheezes looks amazinggg

uh not cormac mclaggen

oooh its "draco and mummy"

no fenrir we wanted to look at draco stroking a cabinet

yes arnold!

yes draco malfoy is a "creepy bloke" ronald

why is draco always wearing a suit??

yes draco is going to pigfarts!

ouch why would u stomp on his nose??

yez luna save him

noo dont let snape teach defense against the dark arts!! i miss lupin...

poor harry having to do potions again ugh

dun dun dunnn the half blood prince

poor seamus stuff is still exploding

haha dumbledore ships hermione and harry lol

baby tom riddle is creepyy

tom riddle and slughorn were bffs wow so cute

edgy draco in his loki suit

aw rons the only one listening

ugh cormac mclaggen is so gross nooo

haha ron is so rubbish at quidditch id be just like him

'the binding is fragile' hahaha excuses

harry sleeps with his potions book hheehe wow

wow sneaky draco

rons face when hermione mentions her snogging him haha.

uh oh cursed necklace alert

harry pottrr the boy who just knew

snape is so sarcastic wow icon (not really tho ew)

oh god they're talking about skin aahhh

noo harry stop being awkwarddddd sit downn

ew cormac stop eating profiteroles so suggestively ugh

haa rons outfit

ew lavender stopp

oh yes "felix felicis" makes ron great at quidditch

poor hermione she just loves ron thats all

aw hermione and harrys friendship is so nice

angsty draco standing in a tower

"bUt I aM tHe ChOsEn OnE" god harry so pretentious

luna is the coolest person there is, nice work harry

draco in a suit again looking sad he does that a lot

no draco ur apple!

oh nvm its back dw

ugh cormac sucks.  hermione why??

at least cormac did 1 good thing and vomited on snapes shoes

draco was lurking omgggg thats his vibe now

cant break an unbreakable vow - figured that out for myself thanks (sassy harry)

ew lavender stopppp

ooh noo ginny dont feed him a mince pie awkwarddd

thanks ron

stoppp ginny. harry can tie his own shoelaceee

why do they need to burn the burrow this doesnt happen in the books #not canon

wow everyones sassy including hermione now

also lav is an awful nicknname

aha tom riddle is still creepy

okay thats a lie slughorn u told him about horcruxes

uh oh ron loves romilda vane oop

harry thinks the moon is divine haha

Ron hugging a pillow then falling off the sofa in the background oh my gosh

slughorn is so useless

haha snapes face while rons saying hermiones name

draco being edgy again woowwww

lavender that is a death glare if ever i saw one

oh no draco is crying in a bathroom now like a moody teenager

let him cry in peace harry god man

'nyaaah' is dracos go to dueling sound

oops harry u kinda killed him a little bit.

no this is so awkwarddd ginny dont

just kiss like in the books after the quidditch match thats way better

yes the felix felicis

love harry potter like this its so funny

‘harry!’ ‘sir!’

not to mention the pincers *gestures awkwardly*

nice speech harry, now u have answers on the horcruxes

ooh back to tom riddle being creepy

yas harry and dumbledore field trip quality student teacher time

snape being edgy now wow everyone is in this movie

oops foreshadowing...

harry has precious blood apparently?

yay boat ride and smoothie

harry potter not harry water bro

noo bad just aguamenti right into his mouth Harry

yay new friends!!!

dumbledore ur gonna set harry on  fire careful my dude

ooh death eaterz

did draco change intot hat suit to impress the death eaters?

oop bye dumbledore

harry brooding in dumbledores office

yess RAB get wrecked voldemort

harry ur thick apparently?

aw cute friendship

Deathly Hallows Pt. 1

rusty logo wow

‘ello whoo are u

oh scrimgeour hi i dislike u dude

veey dramatic

aaawww hermione no

yas dudley being nice to harry and vernon listening to him and leaving

ron brooding wow

bye parents sad face

wow vernons old man

ooh its snapeee he looks loke he has a lot of contpur on

yay snape has a savey seat

pius is a great name

uh oh i dont wanna give u my wand voldy

dracos face haha

ugh do they have to watch nagini eat professor burbage gross

the dursleys house looks so empty

yay the cupboard happy memories and his baby toys cuteee

moody thinks that harrys gorgeous.

yay remus and tonksss

shut up mundungus

blimey hermionee

'just trying to diffuse the tension' hahaha lol

wow so many harrys lol

yh  wouldnt want to go in the motorbike tbh

uh oh death eaters

wow parkour harry

nooo hedwig - the saddest bit of this movie

yo voldemort wassup

oops the pylons fell down... just fly away good idea

nooo george's ear

jeez lupin y are u being crazy dude

george is saint like and holy aw so cute brother moments

uh oh bye moody u were a bit creepy tbh

ha lol harry a lot of people are going to die for u

harry stop being moody omg

wow george way to ruin the vibe dude

yo minister leave pls

ron just being ungrateful - u can turn out lights now ron lucky u

yay hermione you get a childrens book thats great

wow a snitch lucky u harry. hes so pleased with that. little does he know.... its a resurrection stone bro

give him the sword man

yay nice wedding

luna interrupting deep thoughts casually

xenophilius is creepy

ron and hermione staring at each other is a mood.

way to crash a wedding dude

hermione is the most competent out of all three it has to be said

i really want that bag of hermiones

shouldnt have said voldemory now the death eaters are here whoops

"hermione" *strokes face awkwardly*

sassy harry yas

oh yes grimmauld place

oof voldys having wand struggles

hi kreacher please leave ur creepy thanks

aw siriuzz room so cute sad hes dead

regulus arcturus black yay

ugh mundungus fletcher u suck dude

aw neville

oh no pie dude is the minister if magic now

uh shut up umbridge

feel like u dont need that many posters

sentimental piano playing wow

yo dobbyyyy

umbridge ruins everything omg

ron - u dont have a wife

haha harry getting out of the lift and walking in such a weird wayyy bahahaha

ew umbridge has moodys eye groosss

yas the ugly plates are still in her office

oops ron u just kissed that random dudez wife

nice suit harry

ouch splinch

lovely tent

kill the locket dude

dean thomas is on the run ooh fancy

yh harry stop letting voldemort in dude

harry stop being so moody bro

ooh watch snape on the map thats not creepy.

oh no snatchers...

ah u almost got caught dudes

ron ur so weak wow cant apparate or anything

lot of missing people...

haha a quarantine haircut

yes hermione ur brilliant

oh god ron stop chill

bye ron i guess lol

poor hermione

yas awkward dancing timee

awkward stares

kissy for the snitch. he must really miss ginny

uh oh its opening at the closee

vfd!!! an eyee!!!

ooh godrics hollowwww

oop its christmas eve whoopssss

oh a deathly Hallows

parents grave yay!

ur bathilda? nope im a snake boiii

bathilda is 1 creepy lady

what are u saying my dude????

ew snake lady

chaira are good defences agaunst snakes definitely

ah she jumped at them

looks like a nice campsite

wow now hermiones being sentimental

oop she sat on harrys wand

wait nvm

oooh a doe a deer a female deer

dont drown harry that would be awkward

omgbharry stop undressing

oof the locket strangling him

yay ron saved him yas dude

ron kill the horcrux

u tell him hermione

nice ron tell them u have been hearing voices

yes go see xenophilius the crazy dudee

aw ron ur so awkwsrd bro

their house is so cute

shut up ron god

yay we know about the deathly hallows now

xenophilius is so suspicious tho

why would you say his nameeee

noo snatchers

ooo ominous malfoy manor

draco dont doo ittt

yay dobby!

ah no hermione

aw draco looks sad in his little loki suit

yay dobby 'maiming and seriously injuring'

nooo dobby! he deserved so much better 😭

"hey guys welcome back to my unboxing video today we are opening dumbledores grave"

yay the elder wand wow

giving away ur position a bit dude by shooting stuff in the air

Deathly Hallows Pt. 2

snape hi ur brooding

lots of dementys

dramatic music

waaa dobby

yay bill and fleur

yo griphook what up

the sword was in a river bro

madam lestrange? no!

oops thats not dracos wand anymore wowww

wands are just like 'ya hiiii we have feelings too'

oop ollivander knows about the elder wand bros

ron looks great with a moustache tho

harry just broke the law jeez...

wow that cart looks fun

wow they fell from the cart nice

oh no ron broke the law too whoops

yay a dragon

lots of gold nice

yay the cup

oops they messed up nkw everything is multiplyinggg

griphook y are u evil my dude

yay ride a dragon

oops they fell no

yas they escaped

uh oh voldemort is onto them

that's a lot of dead people

oh no everyones looking for them

ah aberforth hi!

the other part of harry's mirror!

oop dumbledore was a secretive dude

ariana yas

neville!

i love neville hes so great now

yay all of the DA

luna!

ginny is being awkward

'shut up seamus' hhaha

aaa snape yooo

snape stop being a meanie

stop being angry harry

yas queen! mcgonagall!!!!

yay

uh oh voldemort is whispering to harry again

stop voldemort you need a cough sweet

yes everyone protect him

haha filch is a blithering idiot wow

i love mcgonagall

run harry

boom! seamus blow stuff up!

yay the knight peeps

uh yes theyre protecting harry and everyone

yes luna is so smart and iconic

go talk to a ghost harry

thats a lot of death eaters

go away voldemort no one likes u

yes go stab a crown harry

yay remus

fred and george aw

ron fake parseltonguing lol

nooo quidditch

lol peeps got disintegrated

go hermione stab the cup

yessss kisss!!!!

tonks and remus together wow

wow i hate voldemort's bald head with the weird veins

run neville!

yay ginny and neville

yay a little kiss for harry!

ooh the room of requirement

edgy draco back at it again

ooh the diadem

no dracooo

yh draco y didnt u give harry away?

aw ron loves hermione

uh oh fireee

nice work goyle

bye crabbe lol

yay hes saving draco

nice killed the tiara

oops voldemorts getting angry

snapes gonna dies dudes

runnnnn guys

lavenders being eaten

yay aberforth

yeet snapes dying

gosh naginis violent

“ew snape sorry i dont like u even tho u loved my mum” - what harry should have said

woops bye snape

freds death is too sad

nooo remus and tonks

go watch snapes life my dude

yess the always bit (i dont like snape but its iconic)

poor harry

its so sad that hes just sacrificing himself

his eye contact with ron omg im cryinggg

ooh yay his familyyy

he should have said 'its muffin time’ to the resurrection stone and it would be like 'cool bro here's your dead family'

u got this harry

yay teddy mention

"until the end" yas james

lets do this harry

wow voldemort why are you standing like a weirdo

yes harry be a brave man

byee harryyyy

oooh hes alive still

hi dumbledore

yes harry is a brave brave man

cool explain it to him dumbledore

bye dumbledoreeee

wow voldy u weakk bro

yas dracos alive get off me

aw neville u got this man

voldy yeeted that dead giant wow

ew snakey boi

nooo hes dead waa

poor draco such an awkward hug

oop neville what?

ok ur just making a speech that fine carry on

voldys very polite for a villain

yay harrys alive

haha dieee

run lucius wow

oof destroying the school harry really

naginis coming run hermione

u got dis neville

noo ron

yes molly!!!

y r u hugging dudes u arent friends... did u forget? oops..

ouch

bye snake boiii

neville is so iconic omg

kill him HARRY

noice

haha disintegrate voldemort

byeee

dont breathe in voldemort guys

wow harrys a mess

yay hagrid

hermione and ron are so sweet aw

harry yeet the wand

wow draco owns the wand and now harry has it

YEET

aw the friendship

yess 19 years later

wow that hair harry

all of their haircuts are tragic tbh...

should be albus remus potter... just sayinggg

THE END DUDESSSSS

[juju-on-that-yeet]

Hopelessly Devoted to You

Summary: Yancy’s in love with his best friend. He already knows it won’t work between them, so he keeps his building crush buried deep. That is, until he admits it by accident. Warnings: None Characters: Yancy, Illinois, Yandereplier shows up a bit

Tags: @peribloke @tired-eldritchhorror @crithechaotic @letsrevitup

Read on AO3

Enjoy!

~

All things considered, living at Ego Inc. is a pretty sweet deal, even compared to Happy Trails Penitentiary. Not having a set schedule took some getting used to, but Yancy finds he enjoys being able to eat whenever he wants, to sleep in as late as he wants, or stay up late doing…pretty much anything.

That’s a good thing about Ego Inc.: There’s so much to do here that Yancy never has to step a foot outside the place, much to his relief. Freedom is intimidating, and unlike Captain Magnum and Illinois, Yancy doesn’t have any inclination for adventure beyond the four walls in which he lives. Here, he doesn’t have to leave the house to get something to eat, work out, or even record a song or dance on a stage.

Another great thing about Ego Inc., perhaps the best part: The other egos. Yancy was wary at first of all these new people, but it didn’t take him long to realize that they’re all misfits and oddballs just as his prison family was. He and MarkBop took a shine to each other over their shared love of song, and Yancy managed to convince Wilford and Bim to let him perform on the studio stage. All three had been impressed with Yancy’s singing and dancing chops, and Yancy’s spent too long surrounded by thugs and criminals to be intimidated by Wilford, so he gets along with them well. He found a friend in Yandere, too, after he challenged Yandere to a brawl and was promptly beaten into a pulp. He likes Yandere’s chutzpah and Yandere likes his, and the two quickly became metaphorical and literal partners in crime. Google Chrome became a friend too, or at least something close to it, just by proximity. His anger doesn’t faze Yancy; he's got his own problems with anger and he’s met plenty of angry people back in prison. He's found that they can be pretty swell if one looks past the rough edges.

There’s only a few egos who Yancy doesn’t much care for. Silver Shepherd is nice enough, but he’s too much of a goody-two-shoes for Yancy’s style. Darkiplier creeps him out, and Yancy bristles at his authority the same way he did at Warden Murderslaughter’s. Dr. Iplier reminds him too much of a parent, coddling and saccharine and way too gentle, and Yancy’s already made it clear that he’s not interested in that kind of family here (somehow the way Yandere babies him and calls him “Yan-Yan” and lavishes physical affection on him feels different).

There’s egos he thinks are okay, egos he’d rather avoid but can’t say he dislikes, and egos he doesn’t have much of an opinion on. But there’s only one that he can’t say he knows how to feel about at all.

And that person, strangely enough, is Illinois.

By all accounts, he should have a solid opinion. The two of them plus Captain Magnum came to Ego Inc. as a package deal, a trio of musketeers, on the tail end of a whirlwind adventure. Yancy certainly has an opinion of Magnum; he’s an awesome guy and great fun to be around, and helped show Yancy the value of freedom as the group traversed the globe. He looked out for Yancy when Illinois got too caught up in the thrill of adventure to watch out for his friends, and was the first to notice when Yancy started to bristle at the nomadic life they were living with the desire to be inside four walls again. Despite the good company Yancy’s found at Ego Inc., he still considers Magnum one of his best and truest friends.

But then, there’s Illinois.

Or Lio, as most of the egos have taken to calling him. Their opinion of him is as mixed as Yancy’s; half the group seems to have fallen for his charm, or at least likes him well enough. The other half bristles as his flirty personality and finds him irritating. Hell, the whole reason Yancy picked a fight with Yandere was because Yandere decked Lio after Lio blew a kiss at him. Yancy's managed to keep Lio in Yandere’s good graces as he's befriended him, assuring him that Lio means no harm. But at the same time, Yancy can see why some people dislike Lio so much.

He’s arrogant, cocky, self-absorbed, reckless…

Passionate…

Hard-working…

Gold-hearted…

Handsome…

Perfect.

Therein lies the problem.

“Don’t miss me too much,” Lio quips before he leaves for another jungle trek or spelunking trip.

“Like what you see?” Lio jokes when he comes back with ripped clothes from near-misses with traps.

“Did you finally fall in love with me?” Lio asks with a cheeky grin whenever Yancy does something particularly thoughtful for him.

“Oh, sure,” Yancy replies with a laugh.

“Yes,” he thinks, earnest and hurting.

He’s in love with Lio. He has been for a while.

He can’t stand it.

He knows Lio, he knows his issues with commitment. He knows about the partners of his that have come and gone, some who were killed on adventures, some who were scared off by the dangerous lifestyle. He remembers talking with Lio about Dark’s rule to avoid forming relationships with humans, romantic or otherwise.

“Maybe it’s for the best,” Lio had sighed, “I do my best work alone, after all. It’s about time I stopped breaking hearts.”

Yancy had rolled his eyes and teased him, and inside he’d cringed. If only Lio knew.

Yancy knows from experience that he has a bad habit of falling hard and fast. It never really takes much; his standards aren’t exactly high, having spent so long surrounded by criminals.

His first love at Happy Trails was a blonde waif of a woman, jailed for shoplifting. She had a dazzling smile and the skill to snag apples from the cafeteria right under the noses of the guards, and that was all Yancy had needed to fall for her. They had a whirlwind romance that ended a few months later when she made parole. She came to see Yancy the first two visitation Sundays, and on the second, said she wouldn’t be coming back. She’d moved on with normal life, was trying to do better, and coming around to Happy Trails and carrying on a relationship with a convicted murderer wouldn’t do her any favors. Yancy had swallowed sobs as he wished her the best.

His last love at the prison was a dark-haired man in for drug trafficking, tall and nearly as broad as Magnum, but clean-shaven and absolutely covered in tattoos. He had an artistic soul, just like Yancy, and it drew them together right away. Yancy still remembers spending long nights dancing his fingers along the man’s many tattoos under the fluorescent lights of his cell. He was around much longer than the woman, and when he was finally released, he didn’t bother visiting even once. It took three months of visitation Sundays for Yancy to give up on him.

In between those two, there were plenty of others, and Yancy remembers them all, remembers every little piece of his heart they took with him. The prisoners not in Yancy’s group called him all sorts of unsavory names behind his back regarding the number of partners he’d had. Yancy doesn’t consider himself promiscuous, though it wouldn’t be so bad if he was. Maybe if he was only in it for the physical side of things, it wouldn’t hurt so bad when they left.

Because they always left.

And Yancy has no doubt that if he ever confessed to Lio that Lio would end up leaving, too. If he accepted Yancy’s affections then there’s no way it would last, not with the ghosts of a hundred failed relationships on both their backs. More likely, though, Lio would reject him, and Yancy would lose an incredible friend.

For all of Lio’s faults, for all his self-importance and too-high self-confidence, he’s still a good person. He supports Yancy’s passion as enthusiastically as he does his own, providing insightful critique when Yancy needs it and cheering on every performance. He defends Yancy to others when he gets in trouble, and doesn’t bat an eye at Yancy’s past crimes or current anger issues. He knows how to keep a secret, and Yancy trusts him enough to tell him his fears, his worries about living in this big building that isn’t a prison, the way freedom feels like pressure after so long without. Lio trusts him, too, and can be unflinchingly honest about his own fear of commitment and his petraphobia from years of dodging boulders. Under all the bravado is a truly charming man, someone kind and considerate and strong and beautiful –

“Get it together, Yancy. Quit thinkin’ about it.”

Fortunately, Yancy is a performer, which means he can be a damn good actor when he tries. And he tries so hard around Lio, swallows every feeling and prick in his heart deep into himself. They build and build, but Yancy keeps them locked up tight.

He does let it slip to Yandere once, though.

“Oh my gosh, you’re in love with Lio??” Yandere asks, squealing with excitement. “Tell me everything! How long have you known? Does he know? When are you gonna tell him?”

“Woah, hey!” Yancy cries, trying to placate Yandere’s excitement. “Look, I haven’t told him nothin’, and I ain’t gonna.”

“What!? Why not??” Yandere gasps with a pout.

“Because it don’t…” Yancy sighs. “It don’t matter. He ain’t gonna like me back. He’s got his whole thing about commitment, y’know.”

“Well, yeah, but…” Yandere’s eyes go starry. “But maybe he could change his ways for the right person, you could make him a better person –”

“It don’t work that way, Yan,” Yancy interrupts. “It’s a nice thought, but love don’t fix people. All the relationships I had in prison didn’t fix nobody.”

Yandere pouts again.

“But you two would be so cute together!” he exclaims, “You should at least tell him, get it off your chest! I can be your wingman, we could –”

“No!” Yancy shouts, then reigns himself in. “No, I’m not tellin’ Lio. And youse gotta swear you won’t, neithers.”

“Okay, Yan-kun,” Yandere says, concerned and bummed but not wanting to upset Yancy further. “But I’ll help you if you ever change your mind.”

Yancy isn’t surprised by Yandere’s reaction. He’s a truer romantic than Yancy ever could be, that’s for sure. Yancy may not have a clue what possessed him to fall for Darkiplier of all people, but he has to admit that they seem happy together, that they treat each other well. Yandere is, well, a yandere: He’s captivated by love, obsessed with it, he believes in happy endings and rom-coms and riding away on a white horse together.

Yancy’s a romantic, too, but he’s a realist. He’s been around the block too many times to believe in the power of love like Yandere does. Yancy knows that love can’t fix people, it can’t smooth over flaws, it can’t dull rough edges. Sometimes love can motivate people to do better, to be better (Yancy’s seen that, too), but it can’t change who people are.

Loving Lio won’t make him less of a heart-breaker. Confessing to Lio won’t make him more likely to love Yancy back.

So Yancy keeps it bottled up.

He keeps hanging out with Lio, of course, because Lio’s still his friend and he could never stay away for long. He still listens to Lio’s stories of adventure, still bounces song and choreography ideas off of him, still spends days with Lio and Magnum, too, just like old times before the group found Ego Inc., back when Yancy was too distracted by constant activity to think about his crush. He likes the change of pace at Ego Inc., but it means he can’t always stay up into the wee hours of the morning laughing with Lio and Magnum, nor can he always cause trouble with Yandere and Chrome all night.

Inevitably Yancy ends up lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, wrestling with own thoughts. He’ll give himself whiplash pushing Lio out of his mind only to catch himself thinking of him minutes later. When Yancy falls asleep, he dreams of Lio, dreams of slow-dancing with him to quiet showtunes, dreams of holding onto his broad shoulders as Lio’s hands lightly hold his waist, dreams of moving his hands across Lio’s shoulders and up his neck to cup his cheeks, dreams of Lio flashing his classic heart-stopping grin as Yancy’s fingers trace his cheekbones, dreams of leaning in as Lio tugs him closer, dreams of their lips coming together –

Yancy wakes up and showers in freezing water for the next thirty minutes, waiting for the heat in his blood to cool, the heat that makes him want to finish the dream in his mind, the heat that makes him want to punch holes into his bedroom wall.

Thank goodness, at least, for the soundproofing. He’d asked for it when he first got his room, partly for the sake of the others and partly for his own privacy. Yancy has a habit of singing out his feelings, and he prefers a place to do it without anyone listening in.

“You know I'm just a fool who's willing, to sit around and wait for you,” he sings to himself quietly, under the roar of water in the shower.

“But, baby, can't you see, there's nothing else for me to do?” he sings as he gets dressed, words muffled as he pulls a white t-shirt over his head.

“I'm hopelessly devoted to you,” he sings as he hesitates by the door, knowing that he’s about to face Lio once more, and push everything down once again.

It’s not just the lovelorn sadness that’s getting harder to hold back. It’s the anger. The frustrated, impotent rage that he sometimes feels toward Lio for being such an oblivious, heart-breaking flirt. But more often he’s angry at himself, angry for torturing himself, angry he can’t just see Lio as a friend and get over it, angry that he has to hide so much of himself away day in and day out. Yancy hates it, because he’s gotten a lot better about his anger, lately. His outbursts have been much less frequent since he left Happy Trails, and the one he does have are much milder, much shorter. But anger is building in him like it never has before, right alongside the aching lovelorn pining filling up his heart.

He’s not in Happy Trails anymore. This is a prison of his own making, and it’s far worse than any amount of time in solitary Warden Murderslaughter could’ve given him.

He looks at Lio and he wants to kiss him.

No, he wants to punch him in the throat.

“Say it now, say it now, explain to me,” he sings to his bedroom ceiling, “Why this happens every time, give me any kind of sign, ’cause I just can't walk away…”

Lio laughs, and Yancy wishes he could listen forever.

He knocks his head against his bedroom wall until he stops thinking about it.

“Why beat your handsome brow?” he asks himself, “Nothing changes, nothing changes, nothing changes, anyhow.”

Lio brushes dust off his hat with strong, calloused hands that would feel so good in Yancy’s hair.

“Stop it, stop it, it ain’t happenin’, Yancy, get a grip!!”

“I love him, but every day I’m learning,” he shouts into his bathroom mirror, “All my life, I’ve only been pretending!”

When Lio hugs him, as he does sometimes, his whole mind and body stop working, and Yancy remembers the feeling of his arms for the rest of the day.

He screams his throat raw at night, throws the heaviest book on his shelf at the wall.

“My head is saying, “Fool, forget him,”” he gasps, “My heart is saying, “Don’t let go, hold on ‘till the end.””

He sits in the middle of his bedroom floor. There’s a dent in the wall. How long has it been since he last did something like that in anger?

“And that's what I intend to do,” he whispers, as quiet as he can manage, “I’m hopelessly devoted to you.”

The dam is doomed to burst.

After all the acting and hiding and swallowing feelings, Yancy blows his own cover in a single thoughtless moment, completely by accident.

Him and Lio are hanging out like usual. Magnum has gone off to who knows where, leaving Yancy and Lio on the floor of Lio’s bedroom, there to better take in Lio’s latest additions to his geode collection. The conversation’s moved on from the geodes, but they’re still sitting on the floor, laughing and goofing around.

“Dark really hates when Mags goes out sailing,” Lio chuckles, “I guess because he’s too conspicuous.”

“As much I don’t like the guy, he’s got a point,” Yancy points out, “Don’t think most folks make prost’etics outta tree trunks anymores.”

“And that’s the last thing people tend to notice,” Lio laughs, “After the beard, the scar, the accent, the way he’s as big as three men put together…”

“Youse think he’d be mad at us for talkin’ ‘bout him like this?”

“Nah, he’d take it all as a compliment. The man likes to be seen.”

“And you don’t?” Yancy raises an eyebrow.

“I never said that I don’t,” Lio chuckles, “Only that Magnum does.”

“Sounds a bit hypocritical s’all I’m sayin’.”

“Well, can you blame me for wanting to be seen?” Lio winks, and Yancy swears he can hear a whip crack in the air. “I mean, I am very handsome.”

“Very fulla youse-self, more like.” Yancy flicks him in the nose.

“Hey!” Lio sputters, and Yancy laughs. “Don’t act like you don’t get it. It’s only a matter of time before you fall for my effortless charm.”

“Is it really “effortless” if youse such a try-hard all the time?” Yancy asks wryly. “‘Sides, I already have.”

It comes out without him thinking, just another line of banter. His throat dries up.

“Did I really just say that?”

“Oh, have you now?” Lio chuckles. He’s still acting playful. He thinks Yancy was kidding. It’s not too late, this is salvageable.

“C’mon Yancy, play along! Flick him in the nose again and say “in your dreams” or somethin’! Don’t just sit there!”

But Yancy’s throat is still dry. This is different than a simple “oh, sure” or sarcastic “I’m swooning,” this is a true admission. Of guilt, of love, of everything Yancy’s been working so hard to hide. His brain screams at him to speak but he can’t make his voice come out. He knows it must show on his face; he can feel his blood running cold, feel how his smile has fallen away, feel how wide his eyes are. Lio doesn’t notice right away, he laughs at himself, at Yancy’s statement, but then he meets Yancy’s eyes and takes in his expression. There’s a futile hope that he won’t make the connection, but how could he not? Lio’s no idiot.

“Yancy, are you okay? What –”

Lio realizes. His eyes go as wide as Yancy’s. Shock floods his face like Yancy has never seen before. He wants to crawl away and die.

“Yancy, buddy,” Lio gasps, “That…that bit about falling for me, that…that was a joke, right?”

Lio knows it wasn’t. That much is clear. But if Yancy can just pretend, if he can try to play it off, then he and Lio never have to address it. They’ll never have to talk about it again. Things can go back to normal. Lio wants to save face, his own and Yancy’s. Yancy only has to say the word.

But he can’t. He’s spent too long denying it to himself, spent too long pretending. He can’t make himself do it any longer. He wants to keep denying, he has to, but he can’t play it off. His heart is too tired. His voice is too weak. He can’t hide anymore.

Watching Lio’s face is like watching a car wreck in slow motion. Yancy watches his confession settle into Lio’s mind, watches Lio realize that Yancy won’t take it back. His face fills with panic, his skin pales a few shades. Yancy thinks they must be twins, both pale and moon-eyed in their paralyzing shock. Lio opens his mouth to speak, then closes it again. He’s speechless. Yancy’s never seen that happen before.

“Yancy…” Lio starts. Regret, sorrow, pity, fear. It all plays across his face. He settles for strained, uncomfortable guilt as he struggles for words. “Yancy, I’m…I’m sorry.” He looks away, then back at Yancy again. “I don’t…” He sighs, a quiet huff out of his nose. “I don’t.”

This is the outcome Yancy knew would happen. This is the outcome Yancy feared. This is the thing that kept his mouth shut all this time. This is the thing he saw in his nightmares.

He can feel his heart split all the way down the center, twisting and knotting up in his chest. There’s knots in his throat, too, so lumpy and painful and aching that Yancy fears Lio can see them. He’s sure Lio can see the tears starting to cloud Yancy’s eyes.

“Oh,” Yancy manages, “I mean…yeah.”

He’s not surprised. He knew this would happen.

“That’s why you tried to hide it in the first place, you fucking genius, you moron, you huge goddamn stupid piece of worthless unlovable –”

Yancy gets up from the floor, fleetingly glad that this didn’t happen in his own room. He doubts he’d have the stomach to kick Lio out.

“I’m…I’ll just go,” he manages, voice choked with barely-restrained sobs.

“Yan –”

“Bye.”

“Yan!”

Yancy stops, hand on the door, knob already turned. He tells himself not to look back, but why start listening to himself now? Lio has stood up, too, staring after him with some mix of worry and terror on his face.

“Yan, how…how long?” His voice is layered with pity, and it makes Yancy’s heart start burning.

“It don’t matter.”

He opens the door and runs off. Lio doesn’t call after him, he doesn’t follow.

Yancy storms into his room seeing red, nothing but red, filtered through ugly tears. The moment the door slams shut they pour out in a howl.

“It’s ruined. I ruined it. I just lost my best friend.”

The lump in his throat bursts, sobs shoot out of him without his control. His body is torn between collapsing where it stands and storming around the room.

“He knows now, he knows. He knows how much I want him, he knows I’ve wanted him for a long time. He knows everything.”

His body makes its choice.

Yancy picks up his desk chair and heaves it across the room with a roar.

He punches holes into the wall. He kicks his bedframe so hard he leaves a dent. He throws books. He tears up music sheets. He only ever pauses to wipe tears out of his eyes when he can’t see enough to keep destroying. He never stops screaming. He never stops cursing himself inside. He never stops telling himself off for destroying his friendship with Lio. He never stops yelling at himself for letting his biggest secret go.

Unfortunately, though his room is soundproof, some sound can still leak out if it’s loud enough.

“Yancy, what’s going on??” cries Yandere from outside Yancy’s door. He must be here to hang out with Yancy. To watch a movie? To tear up the town? Who knows? Who cares?

“Go away!!” Yancy screams. He doesn’t recognize the sound of his own voice, hoarse from shouting and warped from rage.

“What the hell are you doing in there!?” Yandere shrieks, alarmed by the venom in Yancy’s voice. Yancy doesn’t care. He slams his hand against his bedroom door, feeling a sick glimmer of satisfaction when Yandere yelps from the other side.

“I ain’t gonna tell you again!” Yancy roars, slamming the door again, both hands this time. “Get! Lost!!”

He turns away, anger unabated. He still can’t see through the red in his vision. Through the ever-falling tears. He hates this sadness. He hates this feeling. He hates his own stupidity, his own big mouth. He keeps wrecking his room, putting holes in the wall. He hears nothing from outside for a long moment, and thinks Yandere’s finally left him alone.

Until he hears a loud thud from his door, then another, then the door slams open as Yandere kicks it in.

Yancy whirls on him, and he catches Yandere’s determination falter. Yancy’s been good about managing his anger until now, Yandere’s never seen this before. They’re each at a standstill. But it only lasts a moment before Yandere furrows his brow again and approaches Yancy.

“The fuck’s he doin’ here, breakin’ into my room!? Can’t he let me grieve in peace??”

“Look, I don’t know what the hell you’re so mad about, but –”

Crack!

Yancy punches Yandere without thinking about it. He’s only angry. Angry to lose his privacy. Angry to have his space intruded on. Quick as a flash, Yandere reaches out to grab Yancy’s wrists. Yancy pulls but can’t pull free. Yandere snaps up his head to glare at him, eyes burning red. His grip on Yancy tightens, tightens. A bruise is already blooming across his cheek, a thin line of blood sneaks past his lips.

All at once, Yancy comes back to himself.

“What did you do!? You just punched Yandere! Youse already lost one friend today, what’ll you do if you lose another?? You’re gonna get abandoned again!!”

The red leaks out of Yancy’s vision. He blinks, gasps.

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice weak and raspy and already wet with fresh tears, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I wasn’t thinking, please, I’m sorry –” He drops to his knees, blood rushing in his ears. “Don’t leave, don’t leave, I’m sorry, don’t leave me, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” His words trail off as he starts to sob, aching and loud and painful like he did when he first ran into his room.

He can hardly see Yandere through his tears, but he can see the red in his eyes fade away as Yancy begs before him. Yandere may not know anger like Yancy’s, but he knows fear of rejection, he knows fear of abandonment. He lets go of Yancy’s wrists.

“Yan-kun, hey, hey, it’s okay,” he gasps, like he’s in pain, too. He kneels down to Yancy’s level to hug him. “It’s okay, you’re my friend, Yan-kun, I’m not going anywhere.” Yancy hugs Yandere back, as tight as he can, as Yandere rubs his back. “What happened, Yan-Yan? What’s got you so upset?”

Yancy only bawls harder in response, burrowing into Yandere’s arms so hard that he stumbles, falling back to sit on the floor. Yancy curls up in Yandere’s lap, wailing into his neck, and Yandere holds him, stroking his hair and trying to soothe him. They sit there in Yancy’s ruined room, curled over Yancy’s ruined heart.

Yancy keeps crying. He can’t forget any of it. He can’t forget his haphazard confession, he can’t forget Lio’s shock and embarrassment and guilt and pity, he can’t forget his own beating heart, still thumping for Lio after everything. He can’t forget the friend he’s lost, the lover he wished he could’ve had. He weeps because it’s over, it’s well and truly over.

He cannot sing for tears, but song haunts him anyway, it rings in his mind as keen as his beleaguered heart beats:

But now there's nowhere to hide,

Since you pushed my love aside,

I'm out of my head,

Hopelessly devoted to you.

[sinaboo]

Summary

...Ring...

. . .Ring. . .

. . . R i n g . . .

1 Missed Call

1 New Voicemail

"I'm only one call away, I'll be there to save the day."

Adrien dialed her number,

Marinette didn't answer the call,

He left a message, stood up, and walked towards the door

She didn't do it on purpose, what could go wrong?

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I mean, you don't have to

Based on a true story

- - - - -

"Marinette, your alarm has been ringing for fifteen minutes. You're going to be late for school if you don't wake up already." Marinette's mother, Sabine, sighed. Making her way to the kitchen to finish preparing breakfast for her daughter and husband. Sabine wasn't surprised that she had to call her daughter for the third time that morning, now that it has become an everyday thing. But what does surprise her, is when Marinette has an all-nighter, and that very same day she awakens with her energy bar full. And yet, Marinette sleeps for eleven hours, and she wakes up like a cavewoman.

"Morning Sweetheart," a small peck was planted in her temple, which she responded with a love-struck smile and blink.

"I see our bug hasn't arisen from her slumber." Tom placed his hands on his wife's shoulders, gently massaging her neck with his thumbs. Sabine hummed, tilting her head with her eyes closed. "Are you agreeing with me, or are you humming because it's good?"

"Both?" The couple laughed and gave each other a small kiss on the lips. Smiling to each other as if it were their first. "I'm late!" Marinette slid from the rail, jumping giving her parents’ quick hugs. "Good morning!" Marinette chirped, placing herself in the tall chair. "I'm sorry, had a fight with the blanket." She started eating the plate her mother had handed her. 

"You had a fight with your blanket you say, how did it go?" Marinette's parents knew all too well what had happened. "It goes like this. I'm waking up and starting to recollect that I'm going back to school. I reluctantly got up and feel the cold air hitting my skin. Until suddenly, my blanket wrapped me in its mind-controlling power and leaves me hopelessly bundled by its warmth." Tom and Sabine smirk. "Continue,"

"I nearly gave up, but the smell of eggs and bacon gave me strength. I extended my arms but the blanket didn't want to budge. I said: The more you hold me hostage, the more is the probability of me ripping you off. I stand up and do my best to walk off to my ladder-"

"Do you actually believe what Marinette is saying, love?" Tom whispered as his daughter kept rambling. Sabine giggled quietly, "I do, and I don't."

"-Can you believe that? My blanket tripped me!" Marinette's parents laughed, not only did Marinette have problems waking up, but she was incredibly clumsy. Which was something they adored.

"And it even followed me down my ladder, I'm telling you. I think I need to make a new one, the one I have at the moment is too clingy."

"Alright sweety, as much as we want to continue hearing your fight with the blanket. It's time for you to go to school. It's almost nine." Marinette's eyes open like plates. "Nine! Oh gosh, I need to go. Thank you Maman, thank you, Papa! See you in a while." As Marinette’s parents smiled while their little girl ran Naruto style, they kept hoping their beautiful girl would stay the same. Cheerful and full of Hope. Just her.

- - - - -

"Stupid blanket, with its stupid warmth." Marinette spoke to herself. It wasn't the first time she went to school late, and it certainly won't be her last one either. The first time her Maman called her she thought it was just a dream because prove her wrong it has happened.

The first time she experienced it, happened on a Sunday where she claimed her mother called because she was about to serve breakfast. Of course, like an obedient daughter, she actually woke up, took a shower, and went downstairs into the kitchen to meet herself with no one. Marinette was bewildered,

"Where's Maman? And how come I don't smell food?"

She looked in the living room, not there. Bathroom? Nothing. Stairs? Rien. Bakery? Nada. "Hold on, it's still dark?" Marinette frowned in confusion. She shook her head, rubbed off the feeling, and went straight to the door. Right as she was about to exit out the bakery, she found herself in front of her Papa.

"Marinette? What are you doing up this early? You alright?" Tom placed his hand on her arm in concern. "Yeah I'm alright, I heard Maman call me and I didn't see her. So, I came down here to check if I could find her." Her father raised his eyebrows, then spoke. "Sweety, your mothers in bed."

"I'm sorry?"

"You're Maman," Tom paused. "Is still sleeping."

"So I woke up for nothing?"

"Of course not, you could help me out with the bakery!"

Yeah, no. Not repeating that again. She eventually did help out her Papa, covering the cakes with frosting. Actually, make that half a cake. Marinette was only awake for about ten minutes before she tripped, fell, and began snoring softly in the ground. As she would like to call it: "I attacked the floor," or "Random gravity checks," are very common in her household.

Arriving at school, she brings herself to a halt. Slowing her footsteps, Marinette sees some of her classmates outside of class. Looking around, she's able to see Nino, and Adrien waving. Alya, on the other hand, descended the stairs running to meet her. "Alya, as much as I enjoy your hugs, I don't wouldn't want to be the victim of your bone crushing hugs."

"Oh please Marinette, if that were the case you wouldn't mind. Anywho, congrats. You're on time. It's going to rain!" Alya teased.

"Now you're the one who's exaggerating." Both girls laughed until the boys showed up to greet Marinette as well. "Hello to you too," she paused, and looked around. "Err, Guys. Do you know what's going on today? We don't tend to have class this late. Did something happen? Or am I just slow?" Marinette questioned. "No, just clumsy. We have a field day today, the staff is getting ready for our work out today. Oh, and by the way, nice hair." Adrien smirked.

"Hair? What about my- oh. You little-." When Marinette finished "fighting" the blanket, she thought she didn't have enough time to do her everyday updo. Leaving her with a really-really messy bun. "Hey, you be nice. Ever heard of karma?"

"Ever heard of a hairbrush?" Marinette pouted, she glanced at her best friend who currently couldn't hold back a chuckle from her. "I'm sorry," Alya mouthed, and Marinette shook her head. "What did I ever do to you?"Adrien shrugged, and placed his arm on her shoulder. "Nothing, you just happen to be small and I happen to enjoy our banter." 

"Oh come on, I'm not that short!"

"You sure about the Nettie?" Nino added.

"Not you too!" After that, four friends began to howl in laughter. "I need new friends." Adrien, Nino and Alya stopped and looked at each other, giving a smile. Adrien crossed his arms. "You'd never find someone like me anyways." Marinette smiled, grabbing his hand. "That's the point." As the director's voice came in, all the students turned and gave their full attention to Mr. Demucles. As the students were listening to his directions on how field day would work, one certain boy was still happily distracted by a certain bluebells presence. But what most don't know was that their hands were still clasped together. "Just wait M'lady, we'll be holding onto each other like this soon. Thank you for being you."

Thank you for reading!!

[courage-a-word-of-justice]

Deca-Dence 4 | Maou-jou 2 | Fruits Basket 2 24 (49) | Magatsu 1 | IWGP 2 | Koi to Producer 11 - 12 (FINAL) | HypMic 3

Still chugging away at these summer and spring anime...sorry for the delay...(LOL, that rhymed without me meaning to.)

Also, I’ve been on the fence about whether to keep Golden Kamuy, since almost no one I read the reviews of follows it now and it’s a week’s wait (when accounting for my AniList challenge)...so I’m putting it on pause so I don’t have to suffer later.

Deca-Dence 4

“…who possesses the will to fight.”

…Great. Kurenai is absolutely tethered to Kaburagi in a one-sided love. Just when I thought Natsume had an independent role model to look up to.

Maou-jou 2

Oh, this is from Shonen Sunday? Didn’t know that until now.

“Demon Shroud: A demon with 99 clans. A cloth demon that puts on airs that it won’t be used before it’s finished off, due to its wonderful fabric. It is full of beautiful ghostly power, so its skin is smooth. However, the hero (who commonly uses things he finds in his surroundings) caught one, so now the princess has zeroed in on them. The princess doesn’t need the hands or the head of these demons, so it’s a cycle of killing and taking revenge for them. Their fighting style is squeezing the life out of things.”

Apparently, the teddy is acceptable, LOL.

I like how the window stopped displaying text at one point.

I saw someone with a huge plait in the ED. The queen, maybe…?

I noticed the laughs dropped off significantly in comparison to last time, but it’s still good. I can flex my translation skills even if I can’t laugh at one part.

Fruits Basket 2 24 (49)

…jumping to the 2nd-last episode in a season is pretty unprecendented, but I’m going to watch this for the sake of Jon’s Creator Showcase…then again, I need to finish this anime anyway, so it’s just cutting and changing the order for something I already know the outcomes of.

I used to lose myself in movies so much that I would lose all sense of who I was and would have to “regain the bearings of myself”, so to speak. I would have to reconstruct who I was, even though I technically hadn’t “been broken” and I knew once I did that, it felt different. Like I’d travelled through time and past me would never be the same as present me. That’s why I kind of get what Machi means.

Oh, I didn’t listen to this OP much…probably because I’m emphasising bingeing the spring and summer series I left behind and now that I can skip the ads on most of my anime, I’m leaving behind the anime I’ll be slower on.

The manga was written when there weren’t as many cell phones around, much less smartphones.

Rin’s on bad terms with everyone…

…if I remember the year of the dragon correctly, the last one was 2012, then the one before that is 2000…around the turn of the millennium, huh? Froob is showing its age here, albeit unintentionally.

Now that I’m closer to the Musketeers’ age, I can kind of empathise with their scenes a bit more.

“If I always blame someone or something, I’ll never change.” – True. I realised I’ve been a bit too haughty lately (what with the HypMic anime going on and it being the first thing I could research extensively before the anime’s debut, my feelings are of course reaching fever pitch – combine that with continued COVID lockdown and you get me being all defensive of HypMic, for better or for worse) and so I may have acted like a jerk to someone, but since I only know them online and generally when I try to apologise to people online they don’t see the things I apologise for as things in need of apology, I know the fault lies with me to rein myself in. I guess this means changing yourself is the only way to move forward.

I wonder how Hatori did his doctor training while avoiding hugs from girls who aren’t Sohmas…?

Shigure vs. Gentaro (of HypMic, of course)…a writing competition! That would be fun.

…Crow’s note here makes sense (<- this is why I changed the order). Shigure was clearly asking a question there.

Come to think of it, HypMic and Froob have some similar characters. The stoic doctor is Hatori/Jakurai, the energetic smol one is Momiji/Ramuda, the teasing author is Shigure/Gentaro…that could make for some good fanfic material, really.

Magatsu 1

…that title is an absolute killer, man. Anyways, I’m here for the director, who also worked on Hataraku Maou-sama.

Is this a no guns thing, like IWGP is a no drugs thing?

…this OP has lyrics?! I just hear strange squeaky noises, the kind you hear on some autotuned sogs to make them seem more ominous (I can’t remember if there’s a similar sound in G-Anthem of Y City or Yokohama Walker, but one of the MTC songs has similar noises).

I kinda guessed Leo’s package was the one Schaake and her partner were looking for. I was right.

That CGI (on the truck) is…kinda conspicuous.

These backgrounds are gorgeous.

“The definition of in dubio contra reum is "in doubt, against the accused", meaning that, where there is doubt, the accused in a trial is not given the benefit of that doubt; they are assumed guilty.”

I wonder: how many protagonists start out as absolute wimps, unwilling to fight because they either know or don’t know their own power? It’s a pretty standard introduction for things with fights.

This battle track is nice. I listened to some of the Magatsu music under Masaru Yokoyama’s name on Spotify and it’s pretty cool, but since it’s background music, there’s not a lot of demand to listen to it (from me or anyone else, I don’t think).

Why is there only a single shield if they know the enemy has heavy artillery?

…what the heck is a Zeits? Update: You can see a “Zeits” (or however it’s spelt) in the credits list, suggesting Zeits is a character in this.

I knew this was my last premiere and this might have made or broken my entire watching schedule, but this is just a pretty down-to-earth premiere for a fantasy mobile game. While that cliffhanger compelled me to continue, I don’t think it’s good enough to beat its competition in the long run.

IWGP 2

I know I said Magatsu was my last premiere, but just to be sure, I’m watching this one.

This dance scene is beautifully orchestrated. The fact there’s no music means you focus entirely on the motion.

The OP seems to trade more in colour and spectacle than actual “cool factor”.

…wow, $2.90…? That’s some cheap food.

You know I hate 1st person cam with a passion, right? So…uh…

Eyyyyyyyy…this is basically McDonald’s, curry style.

I think I can almost see Ichiro of HypMic in how the G-Boys seem to mostly be reformed delinquents or actual delinquents.

…yeah, but what’s your name, random messenger guy? Update: We find out later his name is Isogai.

“It’s because I suck at working and communicating.” – Yep, that me.

Ikebukuro licence plate. I still have no idea exactly what places get licence plates in Japan.

There are actually 2 characters before “Hospital”, but no one confirms the reading of those characters…which is probably why they’re omitted.

…oh gosh, if this were a BL, Mitsuki and Masaru would be star-crossed lovers…*sigh*

Maybe it’s an unrelated 3rd party??? (In mysteries, you can never dismiss the work of a 3rd party.)

You can tell exactly which group is which based on the colours they wear. Makoto isn’t affiliated with anyone, so he’s wearing black and had yellow earlier.

I think an anime is cowardly – or trying to save budget – if they deliberately choose an angle where they can’t show the moment of impact clearly.

E! News, LOL.

Archangel, huh? So like a 2nd in command?

I think IWGP is moving in the direction of pushing the gangs against each other in the way Makoto describes in ep. 2.

As for what I think of it now, it's decent if you want something down-to-earth, but it seems to be missing some kind of "wow factor". Like it's afraid to commit to deeper characterisation, even though it has Makoto as the ostensible lead/viewpoint character.

Koi to Producer 11

“Cognitive Science Association” - I thought it was the Cognitive Psychology Association…? (Psychology is shinrigaku, science is kagaku.)

My boy (Lucien)…why must you be so evil??? Why do I keep falling for the tall but mysterious doctor??? (<- guilty as charged re: Jakurai)

…that’s some funky seatbelts.

What’s that look in Victor’s eyes…? Fondness, or something more…?

…ah, so there is “Science” in the place’s name. It was just being less loosely translated then.

Oh dang. Stuff escalated really fast, huh?

You actually set this in 2020, huh, staff? What happens ten years from now and people watch it, only to realise 2020 and 2030 aren’t so different? That’s what happened when people had the Y2K bug.

That yellow sign on the side says “exit”. It’s not of any use.

That’s not a recoloured Kiro, is it? It’s not Shaw, either (who I think we saw somewhere in the previous episodes)…so then who is it?

…geesh, they even changed Helios to Ares. I guess it makes sense: Helios is the god of the sun, but Ares is the god of war.

Koi to Producer 12 (FINAL)

I read on the wiki Lucien’s power is copying powers. No wonder I couldn’t get a solid handle on it!

So that Helios wasn’t a mistake in the credits list in the previous episode???

Can we even hear what Helios says when Protag-chan is pulled away? Based on the lack of subs, probably no, but I wanted to ask anyway. (Or maybe he said “Watashi”, since that’s the pronoun Protag-chan goes by?)

…so that really is Kiro, huh?

Military…what? When did Protag-chan’s father have a military squad???

LOL, at the very end you can see Gavin gesturing at Greenie (the pot plant, presumably a succulent). I logged on to the game 7 days straight (they have a Discord channel!) and got a Gavin R card with Greenie on it, which is how I know about it.

Anyways, that was a fun show. Not the best, but still fun.

HypMic 3

*snickers* Just look at my boi! He’s so tall, he has to bend down for kids! (I don’t mean that teasingly, I mean that endearingly, but lately I’ve been no good at expressing myself…Must be the lockdown.)

If TsudaKen was a guest last time, then Degarashi and Irihatoma could be voiced by guest seiyuus too…

What is Jakurai, hmm? (A Transformer, LOL?...I’m kidding, of course.)

All I knew about this episode going in was that it was an MTR episode. Maybe they’ll cover the stalker story from the manga…?

More literally, Hifumi’s sign says “will you monopolise me until morning?”. This reminds me of the MTR truck one of the servers I was in was talking about…it looked like a giant billboard.

“The most notable thing about Doppo is that he has no notable characteristics.”…and yet, he’s still one of the most popular characters of the series.

Suddenly, HypMic becomes a mystery…? I’ll take it!

Yup, “Doppomine” is now confirmed as “Doppo-chin”.

If all the mysteries I’ve consumed say one thing, it’s “never forget there might be someone out there with a grudge against you willing to pin a crime on you”…or alternatively, “never forget there may be an unrelated 3rd party who would be willing to pin a crime on you”.

These guys (Tom etc.) are just food critics, I swear…(LOL)

Oddly enough(?), googling “Shinjuku waffles” reveals there are several waffle places in Shinjuku…you wouldn’t expect so many waffles away from the home of waffles (probably Belgium), but there you go.

All the results on Shinjuku French toast point to this Café Aaliya (give or take an H at the end). Apparently, it’s so popular, people line up for it on weekdays.

Oh, so Tom’s a (street) photographer…what are Iris and Rex then?

The CGI on that car looks really bad, man. It may be dark to disguise it, but it still looks bad.

Jakurai’s dad car strikes again!...Was it white? I don’t remember, but I’m pretty sure it was a lighter colour than this.

I was quite worried about how much swearing they were going to throw in the MTC episode, but then…they kicked it down a week. So…start worrying about next week, folks!

I…thought he would call Jyuto for some reason. (giggles) I’ve never seen Samatoki look so happy in relation to Jakurai, but maybe that’s because he’s just chilling. (Or maybe he was meant to have a neutral but slightly happy face and they messed up the angle. I know I do that sometimes in fanart.)

There’s Jyuto, right on cue…LOL, that kick to the guts was so random it became epic!

Uwabami…what sort of snake is that, again? *checks* Giant snake. That’s no help. (That host could have a guest seiyuu too.)

Ooh, I’m fairly sure that’s an automatic car.

Jakurai went Jitsu wa kyoumi bukai desu ne?. “Fascinating” isn’t a wrong translation, but they did forget “In fact…” or “Really…” from the start and possibly the “?” at the end (depending on interpretation). Update: It might actually be Jitsu ni, but same deal.

They struttin’ down Kabuki-cho all fancy-like…Doppo sure does get a lot of punchlines, though.

This random guy at the club could also have a guest seiyuu…

…what’s with the random Tahoma?

…oh, hey. If Hifumi’s jacket acts as a security blanket of sorts against women and he gave it to Doppo for extra warmth (presumably), then…he’s trying to protect Doppo, even in his own sort of unique way.

Mimimi vs Hifumi? This is gonna get confusing…(hey, did they actually make a flourish noise when Hifumi put on his jacket? Does the distinction need to be that clear…?)

…see, never forget the presence of an unrelated 3rd party.Wait, so we have motive…what’s the relationship of Mimimi and the dude she killed? Who is that dude? Update: We find out later.

Notice Mimimi says “Hifumi-kun” – she’s still on an outside layer compared to Doppo, who just uses Hifumi’s name. Also, I noticed Mimimi called herself Hifumi’s “onna” – “woman” – explicitly, as if she belonged to him. The subs reflect that, but it seems to have less meaning in English because they outright translated it as such.

Well, they got to demonstrate Doppo’s snapping. I’m more than happy with just that. Also, Hifumi calls Doppo with a -kun here.

LOL, this song is gonna be known as “catchy”, ain’t it? Anything with an easy-to-sing-along chorus like “nananana” is. Update: Or maybe not even a chorus, it’s just lyrics.

Hmm…I noticed the “use Mr with me” line isn’t actually reflected in the subs, but the lyrics are so fast, I don’t know how they are reflected.

Did you notice the da in the lyrics in romaji?

…and s*** goes ka-blooey, as you’ve come to expect by now.

Mimimi-kun…?

Oh, so the background from Hypnosis Mics can get caught in photos? I never thought of that.

It’s almost as if they’re nodding at the Doppo fans through the 4th wall regarding his appeal.

It seems they’re not switching out this Buster Bros track, which is…okay, but I was hoping for an MTR ED. (Tofubeats was on this track IIRC and the anime website didn’t list a future ED, so that’s why I’m okay with it.)

…Okay, so Irihatoma is Mutsumi Iwanaka, who’s a rookie in the seiyuu world. *goes to consult Anime News Network*

Oh! Mimimi Hibakari! I get it! (It means “me, me, me all day” when written differently to her name.)

Uwabami was Shugo Nakamura and Degarashi was Mitsuaki Hoshino. I’ve never heard of these guys – except for Nakamura’s role as Teru in Idolm@ster Side M – so it’s interesting they contrasted TsudaKen with them…eh? Heilong? Whossat? (Probably the guy whose…parts…almost got crushed by Jakurai with a billiards cue.) This Hiroya Eto is even more underground than those guys.

A-hah! Today’s new song is “WELCOME U” (that’s how it’s spelt, don’t diss me for it!) by Kohei from SIMONSAYZ.

Update: I thought that kid at the beginning was Yotsutsuji, so it scared me for a second.

[duckingpunches]

Random shit about me

Thanks for the tag @galaxy-whiskers !!!! Love you dude x 

1. what is the colour of your hairbrush? I don’t have one! My hair is currently buzzed and has been sort for about 5 years 

2. name of a food you never eat? Oh gosh where to start, I’m a pretty fussy eater. Top of the list would probably be avocado, gross

3. are you typically too warm or too cold? Probably too hot! Especially at night when I’m at university, my boyfriend is a bloody furnace 

4. what were you doing 45 minutes ago? Watching Friday Night Dinner with my family 

5. what’s your favourite candy bar? Ummmmm, probably Green and Black’s 70% dark chocolate. That stuff is goooooooood

6. have you ever been to a professional sports event? Yeah! My brother is a gymnast, so I’ve been to his events. I’ve also been to lots of premier league football games as my bio dad is a big fan.

7. what is the last thing you said out loud? Shouting my dog from across the room 

8. what is your favourite ice cream? Either Ben and Jerry’s half-baked cookie dough and brownie or their new ‘Netflix and chilled’ flavour which is INCREDIBLE. It’s peanut ice cream, salted and sweet pretzel swirls with brownie chunks. To die for honestly. 

9. what is the last thing you had to drink? Some Vimto (though Ribena is always superior) squash in my new water bottle. It’s honestly so sick, I bought it off amazon and it keeps my drinks cold all day. For example, I went to work at 4am and when I finished at 1pm the ice cubes I put in that morning were still fully there, excellent purchase. 

10. do you like your wallet? Yeah! It was my first ‘men’s’ wallet and even though it’s starting to fall apart I love it 

11. what was the last thing you ate? A crème egg hahahaha. My work had reduced all of the Easter stuff, so I bought three packs of twelve for less than a pound. 

12. did you buy any new clothes last week? Not last week, but I did the week before. A company I really like called ‘Lame’ were doing an offer where you get a free cap with every hoodie, so I snagged their ‘Satan’s Spinach’ one. It’s super comfy, a lot thicker than regular hoodies, comes in recycled packaging and has thumb holes!!!!!! 

13. last sporting event you watched? Honestly couldn’t tell you 

14. what’s your favourite flavour of popcorn? Sweet n Salted every single time

15. who was the last person you sent a message to? My boyfriend! I’m missing him a lot at the minute with the quarantine, so I mainly send him memes all day

16. ever go camping? Allllll the time as a kid, but less so now. I was in the scouts, so we went a lot and my family used to go on holiday with a few other families when I was younger, we did it for about seven years until all of us kids were older. I do love it though and as soon as I get my car, I’m planning on buying a tent and going a lot more. 

17. do you take vitamins? Not really 

18. do you go to church every Sunday? I used to, then I came out and got kicked out. Not really religious anymore 

19. do you have a tan? Not currently, but whenever I go abroad, or it gets hot where I live, I tan really well.  

20. do you prefer Chinese food or pizza? Hmmm a tough one, but probably Chinese! There are quite a few good places round me, and my sister used to work for a local restaurant so you can imagine we ate it quite a lot 😬

21. do you drink soda with a straw?                                                             Nope! 

22. what colour socks do you wear? Every colour under the sun. I love socks so much. The more colourful and uglier the better 

23. do you ever drive above the speed limit? Nah, I’m still having lessons so my instructor wouldn’t be very happy if I did! 

24. what terrifies you? My friends and family dying. My dog going missing. Never having top surgery. Not enjoying my life. Gah, the list could just go on 

25. look to your left what do you see? My bookcase 

26. what chore do you hate? Probably doing the bathroom or picking up my dogs shit lmao 

27. what do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? My ex-girlfriend. Shudder. 

28. what’s your favourite soda? Fanta! Specifically, orange, fruit twist used to be my favourite, but the classic is just peng as fuck 

29. do you go into fast food places or drive thru? Into usually 

30. who was the last person you talked to? My sister, we were talking about how shit dinner is going to be 

31. favourite cut of beef? Not a fan of beef really 

32. last song you listened to? Sweet creature by Harry Styles. My Alexa has his albums on shuffle right now

33. last book you read? I’m currently re-reading ‘call me by your name’ which is one of my favourites 

34. can you say the alphabet backwards? Definitely not  

35. how do you like your coffee? Don’t drink coffee unfortunately 

36. favourite pair of shoes? My Dinosaur Vans. They are wicked and my friend recommended them to me after buying a pair herself and they are super comfy 

37. the time you normally go to bed? If I’m working, 8pm because I have to wake up at 3:50am. If I’m not working, about midnight.

38. the time you normally wake up? If I’m working, 3:50am. If I have a day off, around 9am 

39. what do you prefer sunrise or sunsets? Sunsets, I love watching out of my window, reading a good book with my dog curled up on the bed and a chill album playing. Some of my favourite memories are being on holiday or scout camp with my mates and talking as the sunsets. Very zen  

40. how many blankets are on your bed? My duvet, a weighted blanket belonging to my mum which I have stolen temporarily, a grey blanket and my fish blanket. So many….

41. describe your kitchen plates? Mishmash of my grandparents’ old plates, my ones from uni and a few random ones we have had from friends. We are doing up the house, so we wanted ones we didn’t mind breaking. Our nice Gordon Ramsey plates are in the shed hahahaha. Though we have been doing up the house for about three years now, so I haven’t used the fancy plates in an age. 

42. do you have a favourite alcoholic beverage? Probably the cocktail my sister and I make. It’s vodka, peach schnapps, Malibu, mango juice, mango monster and lemonade. 

43. do you play cards? Not really 

44. what colour is your car? I don’t have one rip 

45. can you change a tire? Yeah! 

46. your favourite province? No idea 

47. favourite job you’ve had? My current job tbf. I work at Waitrose and it’s pretty nice, especially the pay. I have worked at a few places. First being red5 for about 6 months, then I worked at a children’s mental health charity where I loved my colleagues and the groups I ran, but my managers and some of the stuff I had to see and deal with were just terrible. My 18 months there were probably the worst of my life.  

48. how did you get your biggest scar?

TW//////////// Self-harm when I was about 14. I had to have stitches. /////////////////

49. what did you do today that made someone happy? I fed my dog and he was pretty happy about that 😂

I tag @new-brat-in-town @thecrazycreation @yunoaccept @mixmio 

No pressure though!!