#and for some reason i doubt someone could both make this post and spend money on it without realizing the blatant hypocrisy

[llatimeria]

Full offense but this might be the dumbest sponsored post I've ever seen. Fuck whoever sent their money to TUMBLR in order to remind the rest of us to donate to the people actually in need, especially when tumblr has been such a shitshow for this topic specifically.

gazafunds.com btw

[mareastrorum]

These are just initial thoughts, and perhaps I’ll learn something that changes my mind on it, but I’m glad to see Critical Role making the leap to their own subscription service with Beacon.

As a lead in: I’m an attorney that has some background in IP law, though it isn’t what I practice currently. I’ve kept in contact with several active practitioners, particularly those that represent small-time creators either in their own independent practice or via nonprofits. I do not have an extensive Rolodex of IP peers, nor do I spend the money to keep up on IP CLEs. I’m just someone who used to know a ton because I did heavy research and work in that space, and that hasn’t been the case for years.

So here’s my thoughts a bit on the IP angle:

The primary reason I’m happy to see this leap is that CR is taking active steps to keep control over its IP. It’s a boring thing to most people, but when I start paying attention to a specific creator (authors, directors, companies, etc.), I tend to be very attentive to how they use their IP. How freely do they license their marks to partner with other creators to make merch? How often do they allow others to make adaptations or derivatives of their copyrights? What is the quality of those products? What is the supply chain like? Are those third parties objectionable in some way? Were the other parties faithful to the original works or marks? Was this a cash grab or an earnest effort to make something worth the price tag?

Honestly, I like how CR run their business. They have a history of tapping fans and fellow small businesses when making new merch or spinoffs. They embrace the culture of fan-made derivative works, both by featuring fanart/cosplay and by sharing their success. Do you know how rare it is for a company to pay fan artists for their already-made and freely posted work and then sell books of it? Let me be clear: CR bought a limited license from each artist so they could print and sell each work in a physical book, then paid the cost of publishing that book with no guarantee that CR would make that money back, let alone profit. I have a copy of the collector’s edition art books: they’re actually very well made and the packaging definitely cost a pretty penny. That’s not a rainmaker idea, that’s genuinely risking financial loss to sell something people could access for free if they wanted to.

The art books aren’t a one-off either. Darrington Press is CR’s separate LLC for tabletop games. (It’s good business practice to split off companies that handle products in different industries.) CR has also made shows based on those games, and the Candela Obscura series has quite a dedicated audience. Everything about Candela belongs to them: the game itself, the rule book, all the art in the book, the web series based on the game, and merch. It’s so successful that they invested in scheduling a live show for Candela later this month. That’s HUGE.

Contrast that with the distribution of Campaign 1 and the first 19 episodes of Campaign 2. CR cannot host those videos themselves; Geek & Sundry still exists and still holds what I presume to be distribution rights (but I don’t have the contract to review). So G&S gets to host those videos on YouTube and reaps the advertising. I can’t speak to whatever share CR gets from that, but considering that CR is locked out of hosting their own copies of those videos, I doubt it’s much, if any, revenue. (If you’re wondering why CR just didn’t buy those rights back, I ask: what incentive does G&S have to sell something that’s making them money for no cost?)

Knowing that background about G&S, I was wary of CR choosing Amazon to host and distribute The Legend of Vox Machina. Originally, TLOVM was not the plan; CR had a kickstarter for an animated special based on C1. It was only because they blew past the goal that CR was able to make an entire season. The reasonable assumption is that choosing Amazon had to have secured CR additional funding for future seasons of the show, which seems evident from how quickly season 2 was announced, Mighty Nein Animated is also going to be a thing, and that season 3 of TLVOM is scheduled for fall 2024. CR had the option of just doing 1 season and keeping it purely in their control, but going with Amazon meant they could animate more of their works. Animation is expensive. I cannot stress enough how doubtful I am that CR would have been able to afford this many episodes and both campaigns if they had not gone this route. As wary as I was in the start, it paid off, and it’s going well—so far. Hopefully CR doesn’t regret that decision if Amazon tries something sleazy. But, as before, we don’t have the contracts and can’t know how secure CR’s position is if any dispute came up.

CR also partnered with Dark Horse Comics to make Vox Machina comics and Might Nein Origins comics. What’s especially surprising is that each of the cast had a hand in writing the MNO comics for their characters, with Matt listed for multiple. That isn’t very common with comic adaptations. Often times, IP owners let comic companies go ham with minimal oversight. Being listed as one of the authors comes with IP rights that have to be negotiated. That means that Dark Horse had to talk with CR about whether that warrants more or less revenue going to which party in exchange for that—or, alternatively, whether the comic gets made at all. That’s a ballsy move. You think people can just demand to write the comics that a publishing company is going to pay to print? Pffft. CR wanted some creative control, and that is a big ask. However, Dark Horse still has the distribution rights, both digitally and for physical copies. You couldn’t buy the comics from CR until they came out with the library edition, a book bound compilation of 4/8 comics. But the publisher is still Dark Horse; CR is just allowed to sell the book directly from their own site as well.

Contrast that with the novels about CR characters. CR partnered with Penguin Random House to publish novels about Vex and Vax (Kith & Kin), Lucien (The Nine Eyes of Lucien), and Laudna (What Doesn’t Break). Liam and Laura were vocal about having some say in K&K, whereas Madeline Roux said in an interview that she had full control over TNEOL. Both of those novels were narrated with CR voices, but narrating a book doesn’t come with IP rights, it just brings in a paycheck. There’s a lot less IP control in there compared to the comics, but this isn’t abnormal for book publishing. To be blunt, I doubt PRH would have agreed to publish the novels if anyone from CR had been a co-author or had heavy oversight over the author or the editing. I don’t think PRH even considered that as an option. Either an author that has already managed to sell X number of copies or nothing. Creative control over a book a huge ask, asks come with reduced revenue, and switching to books from a web series is already a leap. The fact that Laura and Liam had any say is surprising, really.

That was a long meandering tour of what we’ve seen CR do with its IP. The reason I bring up each of these things is that navigating the way to protect an IP in this space is rife with challenges. Different types of IP warrant different strategies because of the cost involved in creating each medium and the challenges placed by industries that have already sprung up around them. Any time that a third party is tapped to create an IP, it’s usually because they already have the funds and resources to create the work, and CR has to negotiate for revenue, creative control, distribution, and—the big one—who gets to be the owner. These are not easy, quick, or fun conversations, and CR is always going to be the smaller company at the table.

Knowing that, I’m not surprised or worried that CR is creating its own independent subscription service with Beacon. It tells me that they’re being careful with their IP whenever they can. A subscription service means they don’t have to trade away distribution rights or give up ad revenue to a third party. They’re in this for a long term investment, and that requires solid income not tied to third parties that can definitely outspend them in litigation in the event of a dispute. A subscription for bonus content is one of many parts in a diverse revenue stream.

(All that said, this isn’t meant to criticize creators that cant afford to do this type of thing. It took 9 years for CR to get to the point where Beacon is financially feasible and a desirable business decision. They have enough ongoing, popular content to warrant paying for a subscription, and they’ve built sufficient trust with their audience that more will be added. That takes time and an awful lot of money.)

As a final note, I take this step as a sign that CR definitely intends to stick around. This isn’t a move people make when they plan on ending the business after the current campaign. I’m glad to see CR is taking steps to secure their foundation and keep making new content.

I’m sure people will chime in on other issues (cost, content exclusivity, etc.), but I hope my perspective gives an idea of why this sort of thing is good for business generally and why it would be good for CR.

[eloqiu]

top 11 hardest bsd abilities to discover (not listed in order)

(might contain some spoilers)

Dazai (No Longer Human). To begin with, my man had to find someone with a ability. (Probably like, 1/1,000,000 people) And then touch them, if Dazai was a normal guy, and not the demon prodigy, he 100% wouldn't have known he had this ability

Yosano (Thou Shalt Not Die). How'd she even discover this? There's very few scenarios where someone would be half dead, and I doubt that any normal person would be able to discover that they had a ability like this. There's still a chance, but it's very small.

Fitzgerald (The Great Fitzgerald). Imagine, you're a middle class man, normal life, normal income, nothing crazy about your life. How the hell do you find out you become stronger when you spend money. We've seen Fitzgerald not activate his ability when he causally spends, how the hell did you activate it then???

Muishitaro (The Perfect Crime). I- How does a normal person, commit enough crimes to find out that, no they're not getting away with these crimes because they're lucky, they're actually using a ability that erases their crime.

Ace (Madness of the Jewel Kings). Could just be a me thing but, I don't think I've ever met someone with debt slaves. Much less anyone who can convert their debt slaves lifespan into jewels. You either gotta be insane, or have plot armor to find out about this ability

Mark Twain (Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer). You have to be fucking enlisted to find out you have this ability, because there's no way a normal person's gonna have a sniper with them (unless you're in the United States.... Wait-)

Fukuzawa (All Men are Created Equal). This is the same logic as Dazai, there's probably not that many ability users, as you'd have to collect enough ability users to realize "oh, my subordinates get full control over their abilities", also what qualifies as the agencies entrance exam? Is it even necessary?

Pushkin (A Feast in Time of Plague). How the hell do you manage to "coincidentally" find out that you have an ability that affects 2 people with a virus, and that if one of those 2 people don't die, both the people will die from having their organs eaten. You have to be insane or a serial killer to find that ability.

Yukito (Another). I'm genuinely curious on how many mysteries this guy had to solve to be able to find out that the killer in the mysteries always, 100%, without fail, dies after the mysterys been solved. That is extremely and annoyingly specific.

Kajii (Lemon). The whole ass reason I made this post, who the fuck is "conveniently" creating lemon shaped bombs, there's no way he found out this ability through normal means. Was one of his friends a terrorist with a lemon kink? Because that's the only reasonable explanation that he's finding out this ability. Either that or, he's got a big food kink and makes bombs shaped as food during his spare time. There's no fucking way, a normal guy with an office job is finding out they have an ability like that. Atsushi's the main character? Nah, this man has way more plot armor. Because the stars, universe, solar system, and plantes had to align for him to find out about his ability

Ranpo (✨Ultra Deduction✨) please help im being threatened . I mean, he could always be a genius or whatever but... Sure.

[purplerose244]

Special delivery

Here we go again! Another wonderful @mlsecretsanta! Thank you for hosting this beautiful event every year! 💕

This year my present is for @gyroshrike! I hope you had a wonderful Christmas, and I wish you the best New Year! I really had fun with this fic so I hope you enjoy it, in full Christmas spirit! 🎄🎄

The link to the AO3 posted fic is here!

Summary:  Adrien just wants to see his friends and spend time with his girlfriend on Christmas, Marinette just wants to have fun at the party and see her boyfriend on Christmas. When it looks like the merry day will be filled with nothing but disappointment, how about the local heroes do what they do best and intervene to save the day?

Could Chat Noir truly hope for some luck on this fine day?

To be fair, Christmas had to be the unluckiest celebration for him – second only to his birthday, or his friends’ birthdays, or just general parties… maybe he should had stopped partying in general. So, if all of his physics lessons were worth it and if something could go wrong it will, it had to happen today. With that being said, this is not what he had expected after learning that his father had somehow caught a cold in this specific period and completely disappeared from the radars, pretending like he had been somehow present in the house before. That had felt like a weird kind of déjà-vu, somehow there was no way to normally celebrate with father on this specific day. When Nathalie had even dared to ask Adrien to stay at home in case his conditions improved enough for a small party, there had been absolutely no doubt in his mind that some air needed to be taken.

Yes he did leave a message this time, yes he did make sure someone got his back making sure no one panicked – Gorilla was the best –, he didn’t want a repeat of last time. Besides, he just wanted to run around a bit, maybe lick a bit of snow, let it out over the fact that he had turned down his friends’ party in the vague hope of a normal Christmas and he was once again disappointed.

He would have expected an akuma coming his way, honestly. He would have not blamed Hawk Moth even – alright that wasn’t true he wasn’t that desperate.

Yet apparently, he hadn’t been the target.

“I am Prizencer!” The reindeer-looking akuma raised up his horns, that shined like the snow covering the city of Paris. “Christmas is a stressful occasion where you have to spend and save money and feel uncomfortable! I’ll make sure nothing of this tedious festivity remains!” Rays of lights started to hit all over and, in a blink, decorations of holly and stars were gone. Along with the people and the building those decorations were near to.

The little upsetting scene of all the merry decorations of the city disappearing had been going for a solid thirty-second lapse, and it wasn’t like he didn’t want to jump in it and save the day. In all honesty, Chat was simply a bit taken back.

Sure it was horrible, sure it was frustrating, but… that was his reasoning?

“Festivity stress? Really?” He rotated his staff, just to have something to do with his hands while contemplating. “I’m not saying it’s not valid, but-”

“Not worth interrupting a day of shopping and Christmas activities?” Chat Noir touched the side of his nose. As usual his lady was on point. “Although the fact that we both have stuff to do and we’re frustrated by this is a point in his favour. The poor guy might’ve stayed up all night finishing the present for his one and only, only to realize the kind of stitch he made is tight and not very tight and wondered for an hour if take it as it is or accept the fact that perfection doesn’t exist and the world is flawed and cruel…” She blinked, closing her mouth for a second. “… just a hypothesis.”

Chat giggled. Confident Ladybug was impossibly charming, yet when the genuine girl that he knew was there came out of the mask every once in a while, it made him want to know her even more. Of course, this was not permitted, although he felt a little more peaceful about it ever since the both of them got committed and serenely told each other.

Was he still starstruck by her every move? Yes, of course, but who wasn’t in Paris – aside from Hawk Moth and being a villain was no excuse anyway.

“That went personal pretty quick, milady. Is Christmas affecting you as well?”

“Well, it did until yesterday evening, then I had a bit of a wakeup call.” She sighed and oh, who had dared making her feel even slightly unhappy? “I was hoping to spend time with my boyfriend today, but apparently that won’t be possible. I knew it was a possibility, it just sucks you know? You were expecting some special time but you kinda have to adapt.” Ouch, alright, murder tendencies at bay. Too relatable to talk bad about. “I guess I’ll give him the present after festivities, although I hope I get to see him eventually.” They had talked about their relationships before, on a very vague account.

It sounded like a long-distance, even, from how complicated it seemed to be seeing each other.

“… is it food? The present I mean.” Ladybug arched an eyebrow, Chat Noir raised his hands in surrender – yep Prizencer was still wreaking havoc, whatever, it was gossip time. “Hey, just saying, if you need someone to make sure not to waste good holiday food I’m down!”

“That’s more of a pig thing and less of a cat, you know.”

“Alright, I’m kidding! I’m feeling you, I’m also probably not gonna see my girlfriend today. There were complications at my house, you know.” A romantic like him not having a special Christmas kiss now that he was finally with Marinette, it was absolutely outrageous. “I’ll have to be satisfied with her Merry Christmas message from this morning…” There had been so many hearts in that single text – Adrien had answered with double the amount.

Ladybug looked at him and smiled sadly. On one side, bonding over tragedy was a bit melancholic. On the other, having each other’s backs for this too? Awesome.

“Same here. To think I was so excited for it too, and there are so many parties all over the city!”

“Oh yeah, I heard Kitty Section is holding a concert in one too? Over the Seine?”

“Yes, that one! Oh, it was so beautifully prepared, captain Anarka really never do things by halves!” All of his classmates were certainly going to be there. Except him. Woo was him. “Mm… it’s not far from here, you know? How about we get this over with, then go have a peak? Maybe your girlfriend is over there, but no name calling of course!”

Bless her bless her bless her bless her-

“That’s a great idea!” Whoops, how did half the city disappear already? Did they really stop to talk that long now? “Uhm, maybe you should…?”

“Maybe I should. Lucky Charm!” In a wonder of ladybugs and sparkles, a red and black dotted Easter egg appeared. “Oh, yeah, I guess he wouldn’t care to hit stuff about other holidays… what a sad egg though, not even a bow?” It was quite plain, yes.

Chat Noir couldn’t help himself.

“Not as sad as the Agreste mansion, that’s for sure.” Ack, that wasn’t supposed to come out. Too late, his lady’s eyes were already on him. Alright, no need to panic, he did slip up before and he could play it cool. “Nothing, it’s just that I’ve passed nearby while coming here. The place is pretty alright, but there’s no one in there celebrating or doing anything.” To be honest he would have liked to see even just Gorilla or Nathalie enjoy themselves, like having a coffee and some buche de Noel in the kitchen. But no, anyone and everyone in that house had to only serve Gabriel Agreste.

Ladybug didn’t seem satisfied with the answer, and for a terrifying second Adrien feared she didn’t believe his carelessness. Then he saw worry in her eyes.

“But aren’t Gabriel Agreste and his son celebrating?”

Ah, right, she was the most compassionate girl in the world. Silly cat, rookie mistake.

“Huh, I think I saw Mr. Agreste in bed? He looked sick so maybe that’s why there wasn’t anything going on.” She was speechless. In retrospect, perhaps it was shocking from an outsider knowing that such a wealthy family was spending Christmas in bed – and in pain in his own case, but that was personal. “Uhm, maybe they’ll be more active on Boxing Day? Let’s just focus on the akuma.”

“Oh, Adrien…”

“What did you say?”

“I said prepare Cataclysm and wait for my signal, I’ll get his attention through the Lucky Charm and use it as a decoy. The akuma is probably in the wallet between his horns.”

“You most certainly did not say that, but you’re the boss!” That confidence meant that things were going to be taken care of quickly at least. Besides, Chat was almost one hundred percent sure she was an Adrien Agreste fan so that was probably where the fuss came from. In a couple of jumps he was behind the akuma, hand out. “Cataclysm!” It went pretty fast from there, it looked like the lady was suddenly quite in a hurry. She straight up threw the egg in Prizencer’s face, who was double confused from the attack and the anachronistic present, so he had all the time to jump on his back and free the akuma. The guy came back as a very sweaty waiter man pretty quickly.

“No more evil, bye butterfly, yadda yadda! Miraculous Ladybug!” Alright now she was very clearly eager to leave. “Sorry kitty, I know I was the one to propose the concert, but I realized I need to do something really important!” Oh. So much for the enthusiasm.

That was on himself though, believing in a good Christmas? Really?

“That’s okay. What do you have to do, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I gotta talk to someone. Then I have to pick up someone else, maybe… I’m putting it together as I go!” She extended her fist and he, of course, hit back. “Pound it and Merry Christmas, Chat!”

Aaand she was gone – limping a little, wait maybe that was his imagination. That was quick, it looked like finding a new purpose on this day had done wonders to her mood. Chat wasn’t quite sure what had changed and if it had to do with that quick talk about the Agrestes – talking about himself in third person was never not going to be weird –, but at least she had something to do.

Unlike himself. Well, aside from bringing home whoever this waiter was.

“Hello sir, how about I get you back home?”

“Oh, thanks Chat Noir! I’m really sorry about this!” He looked genuinely distressed, like he needed to vent – therapists in Paris were all getting their specialization in akuma PTSD, right? “I’ve been working nonstop at the ‘Lost Navigator’, the famous restaurant, and the stress made me lose it!”

“No worries, it’s understandable.” He took out the baton, sighing a little. Going to the party with Ladybug would have been fun. Perhaps he could still go have a peak on his own, or even joined in, but what if someone questioned his presence with so many people around? Wondering how did he appear out of nowhere? “Hold onto me and relax, I’ll get you back in no time.” Or maybe he was a bit resigned at spending this day on his own. Why would this even change after all? “Hang in there sir, I’m sure your luck will change… Christmas is just hard work for some people, huh.”

 ***

 Could Ladybug truly hope for some luck on this fine day?

Now, she was a designer and one extremely creative person, so hands down themed festivities were her absolute favourites. Yet whenever something so happened to be very important to her, and whenever her entire being started to be focused on that event and that one only, life tended to be quite funny with her.

Funny, as to say that if life was fiction and someone was looking from above, seeing her trip in the only trait without snow on her way back home would have been pretty hilarious to see – huh, what a wild concept. For her, of course, a sprained foot wasn’t particularly amusing, but hey it was Christmas! Better work hard to make sure she had all presents ready for it. Wait her boyfriend had declined the invite to the party so she wasn’t going to see him? She had sobbed maniacally all over Tikki the last night but hey it was Christmas! Better focus on the party even without her favourite blondie. Wait her sprain was so bad she couldn’t walk and she didn’t want to make others worry about her so she had decided not to come at all? She was angry and couldn’t even stress walk but hey it was Christmas! Better make happy thoughts and look over photos of Adrien to calm down.

Wait, her boyfriend apparently got disappointed by his father for the umpteenth time and was not going to be celebrating like he had said? She had added another reason why Gabriel Agreste wasn’t going to be invited to their future wedding but hey it was Christmas!

… oh enough Christmas, her buttercup needed her!

After a quick pause to de-transform – Tikki looked so conflicted between supporting her but worrying about her injury, she deserved more cookies for later – she was charged and ready for action. The little detour all the way to the Seine had been necessary solely to check if having Adrien around was going to be a problem with the amount of people, but somehow the Liberty was a sturdy as ever, even with a quarter of Paris’ population on it – laws weren’t allowed on board, so perhaps even science was banned. From above Ladybug had seen Alya, Nino, Nathaniel, Mylene, Ivan, basically the entire class aside from the ones that shall not be named – she wanted to be nice on Christmas, not seething. It looked so fun, she really wished she could just stop there.

Unfortunately, every movement and step reminded her of her sprain, even in full Ladybug costume. It had softened but it still hurt, she would have not forced it if it hadn’t been for the akuma. She didn’t want people to worry about her and look at her as the usual clumsy Mari, besides she wasn’t going to be able to stand up anyway so there was no point.

Even if it hurt, even if it made her sad, it was no reason not to power through and give someone else a bit of a bounce back from last year’s Christmas.

It took a bit longer to get to the Agreste mansion than usual, pushing her foot more and more. Just like Chat had said, not like she had not trusted him for a second: the place looked great, from the windows lots of very expensive decorations could be seen. Yet no party, no dinner, no happiness around. It looked even lonelier than the first time Marinette had seen it, it was like all the hope had been pushed on the outside so it couldn’t get in.

To give credit to Mr. Agreste he was, in fact, in his room. He didn’t look particularly unwell but perhaps she wanted to judge him with all of her strength – no one she knew was going to blame her for it. No matter anyway, she certainly wasn’t here for him.

She just had to circle the house a bit to look over that specific window. Oh, he was laying onto the bed so miserably, moving his lips as to talk to someone – maybe he had headphones?

Ladybug smiled a little, knocking. Adrien gasped.

“Ladybug?!” His voice arrived to her a bit muffled. He hurried to open the window, a bit smile on his face. Ah, this was already better. “What, I don’t, what are you doing here?” Yes by dating Adrien she had learned about her boy’s old little crush on her superhero persona. Yes it was impossibly adorable seeing him so gushy about her, while still giving her plenty of room.

She thought for a moment, imagining herself as the most passionate person she knew – Chat Noir, easy choice – and pulling on her best playful side.

“Oh-oh-oh, Merry Christmas! I’ve come to deliver a very special present today!”

Adrien blinked. Yeah that was probably a bit out of there for her.

“A present for me? Oh, you didn’t have to come all this way! You must be busy.”

Ladybug grinned. This was fun, she could understand why Chat liked to mess around so much.

“Oh, there seems to be a bit of a misunderstanding! I have no present for you!” She acted fast before he could even think of making a disappointed face. She sprinted and scooped him up between her arms. “Because you’re the present!” Oh she had been wishing to do this for so long now and there was no way to do that without the costume’s super strength. This moment was going to be highlighted inside her journal – ‘Dear diary, today I held up Adrien like a prince on a Christmas day, I think I exhausted half my life goals in one day so I’ll sleep for a week’.

Her boyfriend was red, blushing didn’t even begin to describe how he was. He had a natural light complexion and right now it brightened his cheeks beautifully. It took such an effort not to kiss him right about now – the poor guy probably would have straight up fainted.

“I’m- uh- huh- what?!”

He wasn’t making it easy on her to hold back smooching.

“I heard from a friend of mine that you’re not spending a good Christmas. Well then, I believe there are several people that cannot wait to see you today, so I’m bringing you to them.”

Finally lucidity in his eyes. Adrien parted his lips in wonder.

“Wait, really? You saw my friends?”

“They’re at the Liberty. If they had known about you being on your own, I’m sure they would have tried to break into the place and as a superhero I can’t have that on Christmas day!” Alright now Chat Noir was really rubbing onto her, better not freak her boy out. “You don’t have to be alone, especially not today. If you’re okay with it, let me take you there.” She really didn’t want to leave him here, in a cold room, with no one to celebrate with.

“Of course I’m in! Thank you so much!” Look at him brightening up like the sun, seriously what kind of unbreakable stone was Gabriel Agreste’s heart made of? “Just, uhm… could you give me a second?” He patted her awkwardly and she – regretfully – let him back to the ground. He sprinted towards the door, leaving her alone for a couple of minutes. After that he was back, panting and smiling. “Sorry! I had to warn Gorilla, since last Christmas me disappearing was a bit of an event.” Ah, yes, when she freaked out and accused a random civilian – Adrien had to stop being involved with akumas, it was better for her heart. “I’m ready now!” He looked at her expectantly.

Oh. Ladybug smirked a little. He loved being scooped as much as she loved doing it, huh?

“Well then, let’s not waste any more time!” She quickly grabbed him between her arms once again, feeling that thrill in the stomach – like, you know, the excitement of being alive for this exact moment. “Hold on tight, I promise not to let you fall. Trust me.”

“Always.”

He needed not to talk for the rest of the travel, because that gave her weak knees and you couldn’t have that while jumping from one building to the other.

The Seine wasn’t too far from the residence and the Liberty was docked pretty close as well, so it didn’t take her nearly as much time as usual to get into the designated place – yes, not all akumas spawned conveniently outside of her own school and yes, Paris wasn’t little. The only problem was that annoying foot that was still bothering her, giving her a reminder every once in a while, of how flipping clumsy she still was despite being a superhero for over a year now. For the life of her though she wasn’t going to make a fool of herself right now, especially not by dropping the most requested teen model of Paris. Sure it had been established by Adrien that he found her adorable nonetheless, but she wanted to be cool at least with the suit. At least. Please.

Her wish seemed to be granted, as they managed to land nearby the party with no casualties. The Liberty was covered in holly and Christmas lights all over, it was shaking by the sheer power of the music playing onto the bridge and it looked like tonight no police officer was going to make a fuss about it – mostly because Officer Roger was right there dancing like there was no tomorrow.

Almost as soon as Adrien made his way towards the Liberty, Nino caught sight of him and went to tackle him on sight.

“Dude, you’re here! Awesome!” He tilted his head, noticing his entourage. “And you’re with Ladybug! Double awesome!” As that one affirmation had caught the attentions of other people, Nino looked around. “And you got no bodyguard or Nathalie around! Triple awesome!”

Adrien beamed – heart be still.

“Stuff happened, but never mind that, you don’t need another motive to hate on my dad.”

“Whaaat, no way!… My list of reasons can always get longer!” This was why Nino was the best. He pointed at the party with a thumb. “Come on, let’s party!”

“Yes, right away!” Adrien turned to her, smiling. “Thank you so much Ladybug, you don’t know how much this means for me! It’s the best Christmas present you could’ve given me!” Oh, did he know how easy he made it all worth it? How fast it was for her to thank the stars for being here, just to have one of his smiles? If he did, man he was taking advantage of it. “Alright, I’m ready! I can’t wait to see Marinette, is she wearing something awesome as usual?” Oh, did he also know how much she was affected by all of his words? Nino was making a face as well. “… what?”

“Sorry Adrien, Mari isn’t here.” Whoa, when did Alya arrive? And when did she start taking pictures of her? And why she was questioning her after knowing her journalist impulses for so long? “Girl gave me no explanation. Not like she has to, I know she sprained her foot.” What?!

“What?!” Good thing Adrien’s shout covered hers. Seriously her best friend was too good of a journalist in the weirdest of situations. “Is she okay?? Why didn’t she say anything?”

Alya made a sad smile.

“The usual, not wanting to worry people. But since she can’t walk there’s no helping.”

“… maybe.” Adrien blinked a little, giving a quick look to his hand. “Uhm, thanks again Ladybug! But I gotta go to the bathroom really quick, sorry!” With the same speed witnessed before the boy was gone, almost leaving a cartoonish puff of smoke behind. That was unusual, although Marinette knew how random that boy could be.

Too bad she couldn’t see him more than this for tonight.

“Have a good party tonight, everyone! Be safe!”

“Whaaat, I was gonna ask you for a Christmas interview!”

“Maybe next time, Alya! Bug out!” With that she was back into the sky, going for the quickest route to bring her back to her bed, a cup of chocolate and a bunch of cat videos. Not the Christmas night of her dreams, but it was going to have to do… unfortunately. She sighed, aiming at her house with the eyes. “Awesome Christmas Marinette, Awesome Christmas.”

 ***

 Could Adrien truly hope for some luck on this fine day?

Despite being universally known as an extremely oblivious person – it took Chloe, Lila, Kagami, Marinette, Marinette and Marinette for him to realize it –, there were times when he was quite aware of the situations. Not many times, he could admit that, but after being disappointed over and over by people he didn’t even need to name, one tended to develop a certain acknowledgement. Maybe it was sad how he was mostly conscious only over how life liked to give him a cookie as a prize, then hit him with an empty box. One little peak of happiness, only for that one door to slam violently in his face.

He had no idea how seeing Ladybug and being carried bridal style over Paris on Christmas could had ignited that annoying pattern, yet the moment Adrien heard about his favourite designer being literally grounded in her house, even that idyllic dream meant nothing anymore. Of course it was never this easy, of course something bad had to happen. It was Christmas after all.

Except you know what? There was no way he was sitting this one out, whining and waiting like he didn’t have the power to change things. If he could have his favourite hero pay a visit in this special day, there was no reason why Mari couldn’t have the same treatment.

… well alright, the reason was that Adrien had forgotten to ask Ladybug for help, since he really wanted to get Marinette himself. Hopefully she was going to be okay with the cat.

The Liberty was literally vibrating with music, Kitty Section was playing at full volume and as much as Adrien couldn’t wait to put into practice what he and a certain someone had been working on, it was going to have to wait. He ran through the people, dodging Nathaniel sneakily making a sketch of Marc while he wasn’t there – was this how it felt to look at obliviousness from outside, whoa – and almost bumping into Ivan.

“Adrien, you’re here!” It was rare to see Ivan so brightened up, perhaps it had something to do with the big colourful sweater he was wearing – ‘On the naughty list’, which meant that by the law of matching sweaters Mylene was ‘On the nice list’, which was to be expected. “We thought you weren’t going to make it, Marc was freaking out! Ready for the plan?”

Right, that, absolutely.

Not before Marinette though.

“Yes but in a minute! I really need to get to the bathroom!” He almost jumped two steps, then turned around. “Random question, are there windows in this ship’s bathroom?”

Ivan blinked.

“Huh, I think so?”

“Perfect! Thanks!” There had to be less conspicuous ways to get to a secluded place with an opening to pretend to be busy without anyone disturbing him. Tonight there was no time for bright ideas anyway, he was a kitty on a mission – also Ladybug was in charge of the brain cell anyway. “Ah, there we go!” The bathroom was empty and, luckily, with a pretty accessible window. He hurriedly locked the door behind him, took a deep breath, then opened the porthole. All the time for Plagg to come out and smirk at him. “… what?”

“Running away from home without a second thought, Ladybug contributing with your escape, and now you’re being all mischievous at a party! Finally some action!” Right, this kwami was the embodiment of the devil on his shoulder. “Too bad you’re getting suspicious for a cheesier reason than Camembert, but as a Christmas present, I’ll avoid puking.”

Adrien rolled his eyes, snickering.

“Wow, thanks. I’ll have to wrap another form of cheese for you to put under the tree.” It was half ironic half true, and Plagg was already drooling. “But that comes later! For now, Plagg, claws out!”

There he went. The change was always pretty dramatic, it was like a rush of excitement that made his entire body stronger. It was amazing every time, but he was too focused on the goal to care right about now. He had already taken a good look at how beautiful everything was tonight, he was a hopeless romantic and despite how much Christmas felt like a bit of a depressive holiday, it was a view coming out of his most vivid dreams.

They weren’t worth it without her though.

Marinette’s house was a bit of a strategic point, not only because it had a nice view over the park and was a pretty high standpoint, but because the Tom and Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie had to be a magnet, especially on such a special day. Of course it was closed at this hour, which was a bit of a pity, but it wasn’t like he could had gotten in without gathering lots of attention on himself – one would think he was tired of people being all over him in both lives… that one would have been right. It was still so beautiful, a little place of sweet magic, just for how deeply loving was the family living under this roof.

Okay, Adrien surely was completely gone for this girl, but he knew more people than would have wanted only good things for Marinette than people looking for her downfall – name-calling was not necessary – so he didn’t really blame himself. Now, if he knew this gorgeous, smart, clumsy, dreamer of a girlfriend, she was definitely on top of the rooftop despite the cold.

Ah-ha. She was also sitting down, even though her standard position was leaning onto the railings, which meant Alya was right and her foot was pretty bad. She was also pouting, which was an immense waste on such a beautiful face.

Time to turn that frown upside down.

Luckily, it so happened to be one of his specialities.

“Well well well!” She somehow managed to jump from sitting all the way to the ground. Seriously, how could he not have heart eyes for her? “Good evening princess, come here often?”

“Chat, what…?! You…!” She slowly tried to get up again and he felt a bit guilty for scaring her so much, so he hurried to help her up. “You don’t get to appear out of nowhere with such a lame opening line! What are you doing here, my parents’ shop is closed!” Was it really so obvious to think he was here solely to get some treats? On second thought yes it was. “And I don’t have any saved in my room this time, so you won’t find anything to eat.”

“Why do I feel like a stray cat anytime I come here?”

“I don’t know, why do you?” Now she was grinning, crossing her arms. “I’m glad to see you though, being on my own wasn’t how I wanted to celebrate… uhm, Merry Christmas.” How dare she being anything other than ecstatic, that was not going to stand.

Chat Noir took out his staff, playing around with it as his usual.

“Merry Christmas to you too, but I’m afraid this isn’t a pleasure trip. I’m currently on an extremely serious mission, in order to prevent the arrival of new akumas in the city!” She was more worried than expected at the prospect, a little more than he would have thought considering that he was joking around. “I recently learned that a certain person couldn’t attend a certain party, therefore so many of her friends are very disappointed not to be able to have fun with her.” He smirked when her face changed. “We wouldn’t want people to turn evil because they couldn’t see their favourite designer, right? Think of the field trip Hawk Moth could have!”

Maybe he was kidding around, maybe it wasn’t that weird of a reasoning considering that several akumas had been born because of something Marinette related – of course, he really couldn’t talk.

Marinette blinked, then she smiled shily.

“I didn’t want people to worry about me.”

“I’m afraid that is officially mission failed, but we can still turn it all around! How about I escort you tonight? It will be my little present for you!” He totally stole that one from Ladybug but honestly how to blame him, that was totally his style and she totally stole it from him. “Don’t worry, flying with Chat Noir Air is the smoothest and funniest experience of all, you’ll see!” As long as there weren’t gigantic gorillas running rampant over Paris, that was.

“Oh Chat, you don’t have to!” Mari shrugged a little, despite her smiled getting wider. “I’m fine, I can see my friends and my boyfriend another day… I guess.” Ah, she could be more convincing than this, their class representative. That was a good sign, she wanted to come.

Chat smiled at her, letting just a bit of Adrien out.

“But your boyfriend wants to see you today.” She immediately gaped at him. “The blonde one, right? I peaked at the party, he was looking everywhere for you.”

“He was?” She blushed, her eyes lightening up. “Oh, Adrien…”

It took everything inside of him not to kiss her right now. Instead, he extended his hand.

“If I were him, I would want you to hurry up and reach me as soon as possible. I promise you, the party at the Liberty is exceptional, you’ll love it.” She was still hesitant, he sighed. “You’re always helping others out, how about tonight you let others take care of you? Don’t think about how the others will feel, just this time.” He wanted her to have a great night. He wanted the both of them to have a great night together. She deserved it for always being everyone’s rock. He hoped he deserved it for giving a hand at keeping Paris safe.

When she grabbed his hand at last, he felt like his night was already so much better.

Ladybug was much more graceful at going from one roof to the other, but from how Marinette would cheer for every little jump and turnaround he felt like he was doing a fairly good job. Carrying a princess all the way to a Christmas party was obviously amazing, and the fact that he wasn’t doing it to run away from an akuma even more incredible.

Maybe Mari was feeling the same from how at ease she seemed to be, and how elated she was when they arrived at the party. It took nothing for Alya to take sight of her best friend and going for the hug, making sure to be careful of her foot.

“You silly, hide something like this again and I’ll spoil you to death!”

“You can make better threats than this, Alya.” Marinette laugh, the whole night shook. She turned to him. “Thank you so much, Chat Noir.” He really wanted to hold her. Grab her hand. Kiss her.

He didn’t. Not now. He bowed instead.

“My pleasure. Have an enchanting night, princess.”

He needed to change first.

 ***

 Could Marinette truly hope for some luck on this fine day?

So far, it was going quite incredibly. Maybe it was her superhero nature, but helping out others was already a thrill of itself, so knowing that bringing Adrien to the party had been the highlight of his night had been already such a wonderful moment of the day – also just, seeing him, but that felt like a given at this point. Not enough to make her stop whining about her misfortune, and how freaking swollen was her foot at this point, and how her parents were out on a Christmas dinner thinking she was out with her friends making her feel awful for lying, and how her friends knew she was injured and were worried, and how her butt hurt from sitting, and how-

It turned out that seeing her partner, even without her suit and something menacing approaching, was better than any other medicine – although yes she did take something for the pain, she wasn’t dumb. And like every day ever since they had started to save Paris, he surprised her, giving her a chance at turning this day all around.

At times like these Marinette was sorry that she could never love Chat Noir, the way he used to love her. She was sure that he would have treated her well, they would have had lots of fun, and they would have taken care of each other. Those thoughts were always filled with what ifs.

In her life, though, it could only be Adrien.

At the end, she was happy he had moved on, and she was happy her dream had come true… so why in the name of the Miraculous Ladybug couldn’t she enjoy the moment?!

Marinette was currently resting her chin over her hands, while her elbows were over her knees. She was watching everyone dancing around, standing up over their completely fine feet, having the time of their lives. While she had been forced onto this chair by her friends, with nothing but a glass of soda as a refreshment and giving some unenthusiastic sips as entertainment. The situation had been protracted for some time now, it was seriously getting on her nerves. There had been no one to talk to, nothing to have fun with, and no buttercup in sight.

What was going on, exactly?

“Hey Marinette.” To be clear, she was happy to see Nathaniel, very much so even. With that being said, his wasn’t the voice that she had been looking for. If only she could just stand up. “So, random question, do you have any idea why your Adrien was intercepted by my Marc to go who knows where? They’ve been away for some time now.”

Alright, she could interrupt her current bad mood in favour of her favourite activity: being nosy about his friends’ love stories. She grinned immediately.

“Your Marc, huh?”

“My- as in my partner, as in work! We have the comic book, remember!” There was nothing more endearing than a redhead getting red, it was truly a sight she was happy to be here for. Now if her boyfriend could just magically appear before her, that would have been even better. “I’m not saying something’s going on, but also he was really tense tonight, more than usual. Now Adrien comes out of nowhere, and suddenly he looks relieved? What’s happening?”

Well that was odd. Marinette shrugged.

“Beats me, I have no idea.” As she said that though, from the stage there was movement. A swift idea came into mind the moment Kitty Section, complete with blonde pianist, appeared. With an extra keyboard. “What if…?”

She didn’t have to wait. Rose was quick to get to the microphone, giving a quick wink to the rest of the band, then to the audience.

“Hey everyone! This is Kitty section! It’s me Rose, and Luka, Juleka, Adrien, Ivan-”

“Go Ivan!! You’re awesome!!”

“Ahah, you don’t have to say it every time we introduce ourselves Mylene, I think you’re breaking Ivan!” The kind giant looked pretty steamy from there in fact, red in face with vapor coming out of his ears – also with a smile going from one ear to the other, yeah he was probably fine. “Anyway, I hope you’re all enjoying the music! We interrupt our usual songs for a special request, one of our friends have a really special message for his special someone! It’s his first performance so please be gentle! Give it up for Marc Anciel!”

It was quite the feeling seeing the shy writer marching all the way to the keyboard, even while looking at absolutely no one but his feet. He gave one terrified look at Adrien, who nodded with a dazzling smile. Then he looked up, right where Nathaniel had been left completely speechless. It would have been too easy teasing him over how he knew right away this was for him.

It became meaningless when Adrien started to play, an accompaniment for Marc that was going for the simplified version of the song.

All I want for Christmas is you.

It was such a corny, extremely obvious choice, and maybe that made it all the sweeter for Marc to be this obvious in his intentions for once. As soon as the song picked up the rhythm, becoming joyful and fast, it felt like the day had reached its brightest moment, the one she had been wanting the entire time. Nathaniel was completely gone, smiling tearful, getting closer to the stage almost unconsciously. The people reached out, humming such a well known and even repetitive song.

Marinette couldn’t move anyway. She was fine with it, for once. She was more than happy to take her time to admire him like this.

Adrien was handsome. It was kind of a given as he was a model and that was his job, but that went beyond that; it felt like moments like these, when he was lightly sweaty and still a bit on edge for running away from home, where the times when he was the most attractive. Adrien was talented. Without taking for granted all the work he did daily through his studies and lessons, there were so many qualities and curiosities of him, some that always came out when least expected – the most recent had been him knowing all types of Camembert for some reason. Adrien was kind. Not when he did the perfect son act to please his father, not when he forgot his own needs to appease his loved ones: when he was mindful of the people around him, and helped them with all of his might.

There was a time when Marinette genuinely thought this boy had absolutely no flaw, and that had been superficial of her. Somehow, the more she got closer now, the more this gorgeous buttercup somehow showed twisted petals and even some annoying horns. The more she found out how every imperfection made him even more perfect.

She didn’t realize the song had ended, yet she felt his eyes going over her. Gone where the times when she used to wonder if he was ever going to see her the way she saw him. There was no hiding the adoration coming from those two emeralds.

Marinette had to close her eyes for a moment, basking into what she had, beating herself up for going into such a bad mood over nothing.

When she opened her eyelids again, he was walking towards her.

“Hey.” He leaned onto her, and kissed her. It made her giggle. “Sorry it took me a while.”

“To get to the party despite probably not being allowed to, to come and say hi since you’ve been busy with helping Marc out, or to kiss me?” Adrien genuinely looked conflicted, it made her laugh even more as he sat on a chair next to her. “That was a wonderful thing you did, I think you guys made Nathaniel and Marc’s night.” Looking how the redhead was hugging his likely now boyfriend, who looked like he just won the Pulitzer Prize, that sounded about right. “It’s been such a night filled with sharing and giving favours… you won’t believe who brought me here tonight.”

Adrien tilted his head, casually holding her hand. He had the delicate skin of a prince, yet the callouses of a fencer, he had fingers of a pianist, yet ruined nails out of stress. She was so happy they had gotten close enough for her to notice it all.

“Someone careful I hope, is your foot okay?”

“It doesn’t hurt as long as I don’t think about it, ouch.” Right, these kinds of jokes weren’t good on her extremely worrywart boyfriend. She smiled. “I’m okay, and you might not believe it, but the knight in shining black cat leather that carried me here can be surprisingly delicate when he puts his mind to it.” It was probably a weird image to be associated with Chat Noir.

Her boyfriend widened his eyes, a bit slowly for being told that the local superhero dragged his girlfriend all the way here. Maybe it was the normality at this point.

“No kidding! The one that brought me here was Ladybug!”

“What?! Are you serious?” Did she sound surprise enough? She had been a superhero for so long and she still had no idea how to confidently keeping up appearances. “What a coincidence, I wonder if they’ve been around specifically on Christmas to look after random civilians like us.” It was pretty incredible though, that after bringing Adrien to the party Chat Noir had been the one to return the favour. It made her smile.

Adrien snickered.

“I wouldn’t call me, heir of the Agreste empire, and you, talented designer and trusted artist of Rockstar Jagged Stone, random citizens.” Was he implying that she was not, in fact, just a normal girl with a normal life? “But yeah, it was really cool of them. Ladybug is simply amazing.”

Marinette grinned, clenching her hold onto his hand.

“Yeah, she’s a pretty cool hero.”

“Not just that! She’s so beautiful, smart, creative and courageous… just like you.” He snickered, leaning his head against her. “I always thought of you as our everyday Ladybug after all.”

Oh, the irony. Perhaps one day, if and when she was going to be able to reveal herself, it was going to be extremely fun seeing his baffled expression at realizing who she had been crushing on for so long – as a matter of fact, the exact same person… with two different outfits. For now, she was just incredibly blessed over the fact that no matter what version of her was in front of his eyes, he had the same devotion for her nonetheless. She wanted to make sure he knew how much it meant for her, she wanted to show it to him every day.

“You’re so sweet. You kinda remind me of Chat Noir instead.” He immediately looked at her with eyebrows raised, she burst into laughter. “In a good way! Chat is incredible, it’s a huge compliment I promise!” She hummed a little. “Just like he does, you always try your best to help others. And you’re so funny too, and endearing… just like him.” She hoped that despite everything, Chat Noir was having the best possible Christmas.

Adrien was frozen for a moment. Then, looking happily content, he nuzzled her hair with his nose, scooting a little closer to her. It was cold outside, but between them it was warm.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone telling me I’m similar to Chat Noir.”

“They should, he’s incredible… you know, I used to have a bit of a weird crush on him.” She giggled, knowing that months ago she would have never been able to admit it. “Like, I knew I liked him, just never as much as I like you. But I appreciate everything he does.” Maybe it was a weird thing to say to her boyfriend, but she didn’t want to hide it.

“Oh.” Adrien froze again, then snickered. “Wow. We’re really perfect for each other.” He kissed her head, making her melt. “I hope Ladybug and Chat Noir are having a great day.”

Marinette smiled, thanking everything that she was right here, right now.

“I hope so too. Merry Christmas, Adrien.”

“Merry Christmas, Marinette.”

[cryo-lily]

I don’t think I’ve formally posted about these two before, but eh- better late than never.

So about the chaos that is Isadola’s Parents...

First we have:

Tilera Colet Shir, Isadola’s Mother.

Former Sith Lord; descendant of Kallig and descended from the very few Miraluka that sold out the Miralukan colony of Katarr to Darth Nihilus.

A powerhouse in the force and martial ability there was rarely a challenge or task she was given that she could not overcome. Trained in using two lightsabers, but her signature in battle was her ability to wield red force lightning.

In her younger days, She once battled a Padawan named Satele Shan that nearly resulted in both being killed. But ended up challenging Tilera’s view on the force and her growing doubt about the Empire and her place in it.

Eventually a few years later after her doubts about the Empire grew and her connection to the force began to heavily sway between light & dark. She decided to flee the Empire after killing her master for attempting to slaughter a city to burn a group of Jedi out of hiding.

With the help of a newly minted rouge Cipher Agent she became entangled with she managed to disappear from the Empire’s radar and into neutral space. Refusing to join the Republic for some of the same reasons she left the Empire.

Though her life only became harder as the years went on before her eventual death not long after.

Now as for that Rouge Cipher Agent...

Donovan Teiner, Isadola’s Father.

His background was wiped from the records when he fell into the service Imperial intelligence. Also a Miraluka he’s able to mostly pass as human at first glance and the skill to slip by any scanners that might say otherwise.

Equally powerful in the force but hid his most of his abilities to instead mostly use blasters and sniper rifles, he is a nearly unparalleled sharpshooter. But when pushed into a corner his foes rarely live long enough to retaliate when he’s pushed to use he’s force abilities; He has a special talent for creating Death fields. But his real assets being his intelligence & guile, he was a born spy.

Donovan had a talent for the spy work and information gathering that Imperial intelligence required. But with higher ambitions than the ranks he was given. After being fed up with feeling stifled by his employers, Donovan eventually defected and was struck from Intelligence’s records when he began to siphon information for his own uses and killed several other Cipher Agents.

After discovering a falling Sith Lord he began to manipulate to help aid his escape from the Empire by promising her an escape of her own if she aided him. This eventually leading to him staging a massacre of both Republic & Imperial forces and making both sides point the finger at the other.

After finally being free of the Empire’s chains Donovan went on to cultivate his own network as a nameless information broker, playing both the Republic and Empire as he saw fit for power or money or just plain chaos.

He is not a good man, and if you have heard of him someone in his employ is not doing their jobs and won’t be around much longer when he eventually finds out. He values control, and won’t let anything stand in the way of his ambitions, not even a former lover.

I plan to write more about them as I get more of my wips done for this entire legacy. But given how pivotal of a role each of them played in shaping Issie into the woman she is currently, whether they liked it or not, I couldn’t help but share a little about them.

Tilera & Donovan’s story isn’t a happy one, and their “family” isn’t one that would be planning to spend Life day together, let alone anything. Tilera’s previous entanglement with Donovan would eventually lead to her death down the line; when she failed to try and protect Isadola from him when Donovan eventually learned of Issie’s existence.

Issie slipped from Donovan’s grasp due to Tilera’s sacrifice, and Isadola was safe from her father, for a couple of decades at least...

[shijiujun]

on the danmei twitter fight

okay guys i didn’t wanna say anything about this and yes it’s that hot danmei twitter translations saga thing that’s going on, because honestly i feel like there’s nothing much to say but when i see dumb posts on tumblr taking about that, by people who present a misleading hot take and their friends or moots run off with it without even knowing what exactly is going on - it really pisses me off.

and also if you shit talk translators for not continuing their translations or locking their translations whatever - the door is that way on your right and left, but anyway here’s a rundown on what happened because i am seeing people make comments without two brain cells put together, without the slightest bit of consideration for the people who bring them translations

here’s my hot take and thesis: if you enjoy english translations made by fan translators, you don’t, in any way, no matter happens, shit talk fan translators. fan translators do this for free, and whatever their intentions are, whether genuine sharing or like some of you like to say, for clout, if you consume, and you enjoy these translations, i’m sorry, you’re not uninvolved, and you don’t get to sit on a high horse and say translators should or shouldn’t do something. you should just keep quiet, honestly, because someone else is doing you a favour, a favour that you are enjoying and taking. that’s what respect is.

i’m presenting both sides or i guess three sides of the story as objectively as i can, altho my support is still for fan translators who were just minding their own business before this blew up.

===

🔺 what happened:

so it started because one of the bigger translators in the fandom did this poll - i’m not blaming her at all, i doubt she had any intentions of shaming anyone or causing any controversy and was plain curious, but her poll asked english speaking danmei twitter how many people buy the digital, print copies of the danmei they read, and who did not. 

in my honest opinion, it’s not strange at all for her to have created that poll, considering just how much work she’s put into making sure things are accessible for the eng-speaking danmei fandom. i mean i’d be curious too, to know out of my thousands of readers, what the reading and buying behaviour is like. do yourself a favour and don’t read too much into it.

obviously in an era where a lot of people do consume content for free whether the underlying content is profit-making (like anime, donghua, manhua, manga etc.) or not (fanfiction etc.), it was unsurprising to see that the last option - the ones who consume danmei without paying a single cent, came out as the majority. i don’t think this is a surprising result at all, for all sorts of reasons that i will not get into now.

anyway, this is obviously kind of a sore point in the fandom especially for translators who want a wider audience to support their fave author’s works - i won’t get into that for now, but the issue began because other translators or fans started to criticize the majority of people who don’t pay for objectively rather affordable danmei and just consume things for free. 

and yes, i don’t deny that the argument on both sides got really heated and emotionally charged with both sides calling each other names which i believe is uncalled for, but it totally derailed the crux of the issue, which basically is that the majority of english-speaking danmei fandom - consumes danmei for free.

anyway this whole thing escalated and fan translators were brought into this for no fucking reason at all except that the people who didn’t want, or were unable to pay for the danmei they usually consume, made what i call a LOGICAL FALLACY in argument by going to the extremes, i will explain why later.

the end result is that fan translators were brought into this (most of them, the bigger ones i know at least) without even participating in the direct crossfire. and obviously, you can see why they’re hurt and decided to lock their translations. let me explain why

===

🔺 kind of like four camps:

(1) translators and fans who criticized those who consume danmei liberally but do not pay for them in any way - no merch, no digital copies, no physical copies, no audio dramas whatever

*** their arguments:

danmei is so cheap right, that technically people should be able to pay for it in one way or another, even if not all

danmei and its authors are, at the end of the day, out here to earn a living, and the industry, like any money-making industry, is a for-profit enterprise - and unlike public goods, if you cannot afford danmei, then there is no obligation for others to make it free for you (fan translators or otherwise, it wasn’t super clearly stated while this shitshow happened) when it is inherently a for-profit industry

yes, i don’t deny that some of them did call the peeps who don’t pay at all, “leeches” and other sort of names. personally, i wouldn’t go that far or even like venture there to be honest because in general, if it’s something that i’ll get punched in the face for if i called someone that in real life i tend not to do it, but i’ll leave my opinions, whatever they’re worth, for later

(2) the readers and fans of danmei who do not pay in any sort of way for them

*** their arguments:

some of them really cannot afford, even the dollar or more, to spend on danmei for several reasons: upbringing, culture, money-spending mindsets, real poverty, struggling to make ends meet etc. - some definitely more valid than others (and when i say not valid, it’s because SOME, a minority or like those few stragglers, say they cannot afford and then you see them like idk, throwing $50 on other merch on kpop and stuff - i’m just bringing up ONE example. not shaming anyone for spending more money on one aspect rather than the other, but yeah you can see why some of them, when making this same argument, are a little invalid, that’s just a small number of them tho)

if translators are blaming them for consuming free of charge, then the fault lies, at its foundation, fan translators who translate illegally, which i mean, in that definition, all of them including me 

did i mention that we were called illegal translators like you know in response to being called leeches? anyway-

(3) others translators who literally were just minding their own fucking business before some smart alec dragged them into it

i don’t think most of us had an argument. we were just quietly munching on popcorn and staying out of it and yeah, can you imagine, we provide a service, however illegal it is, for free on our own time, we don’t even check whether people support legally or not, we just... provide, and pray that those who are able to, at least support in some small way or another do so, on their own time. i mean i don’t check, most of us don’t, not the bouncers at your local club before COVID happened do, and then suddenly, to be used to derail an argument, we were called illegal translators. and that we should stop translating, and that it is our fault that there are free riders in the fandom

(4) people who offered to provide JJWXC credits to those who said they couldn’t afford it etc.

honestly i think they were just trying to help - no different than a gofundme. there’s no shame in taking a free thing that people already weren’t intending to pay for. it’s there, just take it!

===

🔺 the shitshow that led to fan translators locking their stuff up:

i would provide some actual examples in the form of screenshots but i’ve blocked most of them, and i don’t want to direct any sort of traffic to them so i guess you’ll have to take my word on it or go search on twitter yourself but-

(1) the affordability issue: i can understand the frustration at being called leeches, and some if not a majority of people, do have valid reasons for not being able to afford something or anything and end up pirating content they enjoy. hey, i am not about to crucify anyone for pirating at some point in their lives. we all have done it at some point, or for example hate disney+ and that $30 they were trying to rip off us for a subpar Mulan live action. i don’t have anything to say about that. inherently, is it wrong and illegal? yeah sure of course it is. do we call people leeches? i wouldn’t go that far.

if anyone cannot afford, cannot access for whatever reason, fine, i’m not gonna go check if jjwxc truly is banned in your country, or is your postal service so terrible that you definitely won’t be able to receive a hard copy of the book you like at affordable rates.

and if you have to pirate? go ahead. i mean it’s always been a rampant thing. the only thing fan translators and fans can do is encourage, motivate and incentivise as much as possible to get people to support legally. they can only put up REALLY COMPREHENSIVE guides as to how to access jjwxc or taobao or whatever. 

and if you still cannot afford it and pirate, honestly no one cares about the story behind it. you owe no one justification, just as how no other person is obligated to take it into consideration or understand you or empathize with you. i don’t say this in a malicious way - i do think that in general, you just do you. 

(2) the poor people don’t deserve nice things argument: honestly, this was not the point of this entire debacle, altho yes, people were rude to those who could not afford to support legally. but this is not the point of this whole thing.

main point - there are free riders who can support but choose not to because they choose to just consume it for free and if you are able to you should support

everyone going off on a tangent - you guys hate poor people / you guys are leeches

well guess what, no one wins in this argument. 

there were a lot of people saying “reading danmei is our only source of happiness, are you saying poor people who can’t access legally don’t deserve to read danmei” (this is just one example i’ve seen, there are other variations), and it wasn’t put across perhaps in the right way, but the other camp of people were saying “you’re not entitled to it for free if you cannot afford it”, which raised a lot of hackles and anti-poor yellings 

altho i do not deny that there are those who mean it maliciously, i think what everyone is trying to say is - the danmei industry, like any other profit-making industry, is looking to make profits. the people working in the industry, the authors even, are looking at numbers - traffic to jjwxc or other legal platforms, how much revenue they’re making from their live actions etc., comments, rankings, etc. i think @/hunxi-after-hours made a really succinct post on this aspect which yall should read.

it’s the same as - if you wanted to purchase a standee which costs $20 USD, but you cannot afford it = you don’t get it. there’s no way you can get this standee unless some gifts it to you for free. what the camp trying to ask people to support legally is saying, is that danmei is NOT A PUBLIC GOOD. it is a private, for-profit product. it might be intangible, but it is a PRODUCT that has a price that needs to be paid.

if you cannot afford it, you either don’t get access entirely (i’m saying this objectively and honestly from an economic standpoint). if someone gifts that standee to you for free, count yourself lucky - if someone makes a danmei accessible to you for free, COUNT YOURSELF LUCKY. you don’t have to be grateful and treat them as gods or like obey their every word, but it’s not rocket science. someone did you a favour that you accepted and consumed, show some respect. 

if you cannot afford to buy the standee - you do not go on twitter demanding that someone ensures that you have access to the standee for free. do you see how ridiculous this sounds once it’s a tangible product? and danmei novels ARE PRODUCTS. they are not FREE CONTENT. if someone cannot afford the standee, this is the equivalent of people going “we didn’t get the standee for free because poor people don’t deserve nice things”

totally missing the point. i don’t even know how it got to this. once again, i do admit that some users were unnecessarily mean, but going to the extreme of this is ridiculous. in argumentative essay writing we call this a logical fallacy:

e.g. “if you cannot pay for merchandise or danmei, it is a fact that you might not have access to it” morphing into “if we cannot pay for food, does this mean we cannot have access to it?!” - this is a slippery slope, and factors are not equivalent!!!! do they not teach people anything in school

don’t confuse fanfiction with danmei - danmei novels ARE PAID PRODUCTS unless for free chapters, just because it’s released online doesn’t mean it’s free public property, and also selected novels (did you guys know the WHOLE of SCI novel is free? about 500 chapters sorry, random, just a tidbit)

there are of course nuances right, like if anyone told me they were pirating disney+ content i’d be like yeah hey get one over those bloodsuckers, they take enough of our money and produce shit content anyway. the difference is that danmei authors, and the danmei industry itself can still be considered a nascent and not-yet matured industry, with a majority of authors if not all, depending on monetary flow, likes, comments, virality on the sites their content is hosted on, for a living, unlike hugeass MNCs trying to squeeze us dry for content that isn’t even interesting.

danmei is priced rather reasonably - and this brings me to another argument that was made, that the value of money is not the same for everyone. i don’t want to make comments on this because yes this is correct to a large extent. a $6 book might be cheap to most of us, but might be expensive to someone else. i’m not gonna comment on how cheap or whatever it is, if you gotta use your money for other things, definitely! i still maintain however, that a novel less than a dollar should be affordable to most people, a majority of people. and i definitely side eye some users who obviously have money but are just creating noise because they wanna continue free-riding

(4) the “they’re losing out on their international audience” argument: honestly, i feel like english-speaking danmei fandom gives themselves a bit too much credit. danmei has long thrived in china in its domestic market - sure the international audience is a plus to have and i’m sure the authors are grateful and flattered that people who don’t understand chinese love their content and love it a lot, but do they and their companies care about fans who basically don’t bring in money? i’m not sure (okay i’ll get to the fan translators doing illegal shit later okay i got it don’t be impatient)

and international fans are great, i don’t deny that - but when i see arguments like “oh but it’s their loss if they don’t cater or deny access to us, they get more popularity and sharing overseas”, i honestly think they don’t care as much as you think. once again, hunxi made a really good argument regarding non-sinophone audiences, but it really irks me, because this is the same as:

an instagram influencer saying they’ll give a restaurant exposure for free to their followers, if they get a free meal

it’s par for par - danmei authors wants earnings, popularity, tangible results that show that they are succeeding. this is life. if i put something out there for sale, i better be getting returns, simple economic logic. they probably don’t care that a non-paying reader is bringing them greater ‘exposure’ - once again, i mean this objectively. 

and yes if they’re thriving without the international market then why should it matter that people are pirating right? which brings me to the next point~

(5) it’s fan translators faults for so many people pirating, and fan translators are the ones doing the “illegal” work: this one is like... wow where do i unpack this and how-

firstly, we are talking about assholes who can pay but decide to free ride and not pay for danmei, and we assume that if you really cannot afford and have to pirate, no one’s saying anything as long as you don’t go around spreading how to pirate, how the hell did it get to fan translators from “you guys are anti-poor” and whatever

yes, fan translations are indeed illegal, i don’t deny that, and i also don’t deny that there are translators who translate for clout and popularity but putting these aside - here’s what i have seen from people who ran their mouths and made this argument

“if you guys care about us pirating the book so much than fan translators shouldn’t have translated in the first place” and “if you wanna come after us for reading illegally, then fan translators, you guys should go get the copyright for the book and then translate it cuz what you guys are doing is also illegal”

hooooo i’m telling ya, i am all for translators locking up their translations at this point. see how fucking hurtful that is? you eat from my hand and then now you biting at the hand that fed you the gays in love?

honestly if you’ve made this argument or supported this, you can basically go to hell. yes this is personal because what, you think fan translators don’t take out their personal time and effort and hard work to make translations accessible to you? if you’re ever consumed and read translations, don’t be a hypocrite and make this argument. you benefitted from it, now you wanna say it’s their fault? 

most translators want to share and spread the love they have for a novel right, want to show you how wonderful all these authors are, how much enjoyment u get from reading these wonderfully thought out stories of gays in love. yes we all know we are illegally translating, which is why on top of sharing we first, purchase the novels legally ourselves first, and then we try to encourage people to buy etc. and actually put their money to use. it doesn’t make it any less illegal, but we are bridging the gap between danmei and basically the english-speaking fandom, albeit illegally

we aren’t that self-important to ask for gratefulness but some respect would be nice. like i said, you read it, you consumed it, you enjoyed it, you can only access it because of illegal translators - a bit counter-intuitive to yell at these translators, who are simply telling you, if you can, please support. and none of us went “if you cannot afford, begone!”

===

🔺 some people tried to help by offering jjwxc credits so people who cannot afford as they say, can get legal access: honestly, just take it right, guess what some of these users did in response

they said the people giving away credits are trying to redeem themselves for their comments by giving away free stuff

they also said that we are trying to shame the people who cannot afford it with this handout to them, to show that they are the bigger person - the fact that they think this is a handout to them is TELLING. the people offering this is giving their money not to these readers, but to the authors! that’s the point of this exercise!!!

one of them even said “instead of trying to do these giveaways, here, there are greater world problems out there, donate instead to these causes” - love the initiative, but how did we get from being able to afford danmei and entertainment content to saving the world? i just- i cannot

===

🔺 so why i get why fan translators are locking up their translations, because wow, so hurtful:

you have no idea how many fucking assholes went “sure, lock up your translations, deal with the consequences” - ermmmm firstly, thanks for making a threat. like who the fuck do you think you are?

the consequences is... the authors still don’t get the money these free riders weren’t going to give them anyway, so no loss, and they weren’t reading on jjwxc anyway so you know, the authors don’t lose or gain any readership numbers or traffic they didn’t already have. instead, it WILL push and force people to pay for the PRODUCT. once again, it’s a product.

this works, and i’d say Word of Honor’s payment model worked marvellously for Youku, because they fucking forced everyone to pay to access content. ALL OF THEM. sure ok some people still pirated it, but how many MORE people paid on Youku, on Youku Youtube, watched on Viki etc. than if they didn’t? even english-speaking fandom were wracking their brains trying to purchase a Youku pass even if there were no subs initially - and other examples that lovely hunxi brought up in her amazing piece

and for translators?! honestly me for one, i’m glad i don’t feel pressured anymore to churn out a chapter every week since we get called names etc. most of us are glad to have a break to be honest. we’ve lost all motivation to translate because it’s a free service, at the very least we don’t expect like hate, or rudeass fuckers. for those who are doing a proof of purchase thing - go for it honestly! 

hopefully it’ll minimize the free rider problem - some people for whatever reasons really cannot buy or support legally, that’s totally cool and they don’t have to justify it, i get that. but for others making the same argument but obviously are just unwilling to pay because they can’t read chinese, think it’s too troublesome when there are guides and translators provide it for free anyway so what’s the point - we all make concessions and make decisions to grab what we like (not talking about the ppl who have their various troubles and difficulties!)

===

🔺 and those who are saying why is it the ‘rest of us suffer’ from locked translations just because of a few bad apples:

IT ISN’T ABOUT YOU. where the hell were all of ya when we were getting called illegal huh? it’s about us fan translators getting shot at for no reason, and then people still demanding things for free. i don’t see any of the people i’ve seen on tumblr complain about fan translators stopping or locking translations defend any of us in any way. instead, you’re complaining.

it is the translator’s prerogative to start, stop and end translations, unless of course the original author starts to sue i suppose. i see people on tumblr going like if they were gonna do this, they shouldn’t have started in the first place etc. - i don’t what world you live in, but when i do something for free, then get called names and am attacked or get dictated on how i should do something that’s already like free, i tend to be less generous.

i’m sorry, do us illegal and free translators owe ANY OF YOU? i wasn’t aware any of us were being paid for this hobby. readers, especially those who CAN and just refuse to support, don’t get to say SHIT. translators deal with so much shit and so many entitled readers, i say they get to lock whatever they want as long as they aren’t profiting off of this monetarily.

let me give you an example - nan chan, which is translated by lian yin, completed translations by the way for all chapters. it is all free for viewing, and she only locked up one extra and asked for proof of payment. some dumbfuck quotes that locked up extra chapter tweet and said “honestly, this turned me off reading this novel because they restricted access”.

the. fucking. entitlement. the whole of nan chan is free, that’s like what more than 80 chapters. she locked up the EXTRA and the money goes to the author, she doesn’t earn anything. AND HERE THAT BIJ is (yes, i’m going to call them names because you know, fucking asshole who didn’t bother to check) going “yeah i didn’t wanna read because 1/80+ chapters were locked”. 

AN EXTRA. LITERALLY AN EXTRA!!!!!!

at the end of the day, translators are not like DYING to translate, not like some of you are DYING to read the translations. once again, this isn’t a “BE GRATEFUL” message, it’s a please be respectful to the people who put in time and hard work for free and share the goodness ya know? what’s the use of yelling at fan translators as if we owe you anything?

================

🔴🔴🔴 TOO LONG DIDN’T READ 🔴🔴🔴

some people may need really need to pirate - and no one needs to justify why they cannot afford to purchase etc. pirating happens all the time, translators only hope that when you can, and in whatever way you can, to support legally - in general we don’t ask and we get it! we’re just annoyed that some people think that it SHOULD BE FREE, when it is a paid product, especially for those who CAN afford it

readers are not entitled to shit on translators for what they do with their translations - once again, you’re not OBLIGATED to have it. so what if i start and stop? i’m the one doing the work, i get the only say. don’t be a hypocrite and shit on translators, whose works you’ve read - it’s no loss for translators, we read and enjoy danmei just fine

yes, fan translations are illegal, but you can’t read and enjoy them like some of you have, and then turn around and point the finger at translators - a lot of us are happy to stop translating - this isn’t a threat, but at the end of the day, shitting on translators simply decreases access, and sure, some people can indeed live with you know, MTL or shitty translations from people who’ve learnt chinese for only six months or whatever, but you’re gonna be reading an entirely different book tbh

the people saying illegal translators are at fault - funnily enough, most of them consume the translations, so what the fuck? i mean we know it’s illegal, we’re trying to share the love and trying to minimize the illegalities of it by redirecting people to hopefully support legally. it’s still illegal yes, but i think it’s hypocritical for people who have read translations, stab translators in the back. and now that translators are indeed ‘restricting’ and ‘removing’ their ‘illegal translations’, yall yelling again? and threatening?

fan translators aren’t “elitist” or “classist” - just looking for some respect in a community which seems to have taken them for granted, and also looking for support for their fave authors - and honestly a lot of us were caught in the crossfires truly, don’t be an asshole and demand things from fan translators - who are you talking about? do you know why they decided to lock? do you know know what their locking system is like and what for? 

it’s not EASY to lock the translations up - it’s more admin work, it’s putting together a whitelist of people, if given the choice i’m sure translators would prefer to share everything. but not when there are assholes who have a comment on how they should translate etc. and yeah!!! calling us illegal!! i mean we are but still!!

the last straw was seeing that post on tumblr and people in the comments going like fan translators shouldn’t or should do something, without getting the whole picture, without even considering how hard it is for fan translators being caught in this situation. 

whoever puts in the work gets to decide, and everyone else should leave them alone. 

be nice to the people who really cannot afford as they say so (or just don’t think about it), be nice to the translators feeding you content, and the people who free ride and shit on translators - honestly, i’d say ready the pitchforks.

edit: i forgot to mention this is my hot take and i’ve tried to like present all the arguments i’ve seen so far. i’m definitely not doing all of it justice and i don’t claim to speak on behalf of any of them except maybe one or two- and i’ve definitely left out stuff, but anyway, lmao we’re just tiny people doing what we love. i wish we could solve you know inequality or poverty or hunger or other pressing concerns. if i was that great i wouldn’t be stuck on tumblr or twitter or have to make posts like these like a loser.

thanks for coming to my ted talk.

[kinsey3furry300]

So how the heck do the Avengers pay for stuff, and how rich are they?

So, in the wake of “Falcon and the Winter Soldier” There’s a lot of debate about why Sam didn’t seem to get paid well for his work in the Avengers (at least in the MCU continuity), and this has got me thinking: we’ve got no evidence that the Avengers are, financially, anything but a hot mess. So lets break it down, Avenger by Avenger, using real-world pay scales for the ones who have jobs.

Tony: a billionaire, so clearly he’s a financial genius, right? Well….. his actions say otherwise. He’s shown to be wildly irresponsible with his money. He inherited a lot of wealth form his parents which was managed by the first Jarvis, Obadiah, and Pepper for him, he buys and then gives away not just woks of art, but entire collections by major 20th century artists on a whim, destroyed his own cars and home without concern, he tanks the value of his own company in the first Iron Man with a bad press interview, gets kicked of his own bord of directors, and ultimately, in Iron Man 2, gives control of his company to Pepper. He’s insanely rich, and insanely smart, but man, he’s not smart with his money. So all the cool stuff, his suits, the Avengers tower, the facility up-state: that’s all paid for by him, but Pepper is holding the purse-stings.  So, does he pay the others? We have no evidence for most of them… but we do with Spidey. Peter Parker is in the Stark Internship Program a euphemism to hide the fact he’s training and mentoring him as a super-hero, but I find the wording interesting: he refers to Spidey, his surrogate son and chosen heir, as an intern. I.E., Unpaid.  I’m guessing this is Howard’s influence over him, some sort of ‘make you own way in the world, son’ attitude, but  if he’s not paying Spidey, is he paying anyone else? He certainly pays for stuff super heroes suits and things, equipment, fuel, the base, but does he pay anyone a wage? No one ever mentions it. You think it would come up.

So, if he’s not paying them a wage, where do Avengers  (and thier allies) get their day-to-day money from, and are they rich? Using google and https://www.federalpay.org, lets find out.

Cap: Well, before Civil war, he’s a shield operative, and he presumably still holds his military rank: he’s a US Army captain, with (well) over 40 years service, so USD$88,142.40 per year, with $237.71  drill pay (pay per drill you have to do on weekends, on leave or outside of normal service) and $175.00 per month hazard pay (which I bet is interesting) on top of that. As a WW2 veteran, he’d be eligible for a war pension if he:

Was not discharged for dishonorable reasons; and,

Served 90 days of active military duty; and,

Served at least one day during wartime ("wartime" as determined by the VA); and,

Had  countable family income below a certain yearly limit; and,

Is  age 65 years or older; or

Regardless of age is permanently disabled, not due to wilful misconduct.

As he’s still receiving 90k per year, he’s ineligible for a pension as his countable yearly income is above the limit.  So if shield pays him in accordance with his rank and years of service, about $90, 600 per year incuding hazard pay.

After civil war, he’s a fugitive on the run, so presumably flat broke. I’d asume he gets his pension returened to him after the snap.

He’s also just gone from the 40’s to the present day, so 70 years of inflation probably makes buying things very confusing for him: everything would seem insanely expensive at first. He’d also not know what the correct prices are for anything invented after 45. You might get used to how much more expensive food and coffee is, but how much is a smart-phone worth? $200? $2000 $20000? Who knows? I bet the others have to facepalm a lot when he either refuses to pay for what he sees as clear price-gouging, and at the same time regularly pays insane amounts of money for goods and services because he doesn’t know better. He also has no known assets other than his pay: he rents an apartment making him one of the few American males in his age-group who isn’t a home-owner

Thor: Does Asgard even have currency? It’s depicted like a “Crystal spires and toga” type utopia with no poverty: even working class Asgardian’s like Scourge seem to be pretty well-off and want for nothing, so he’s from a post-scarcity society where actual magic is a thing. His “Another” coffee cup smashing and the fact he doesn’t have a computer of phone in Ragnarök might indicate that, no, he just doesn’t have, need or understand money. Splitting a bar tab with him must be a nightmare. His breakdown post snap indicates he’s got some cash, but not a huge amount, and is probably skiving of Valkyrie and the other Asgardians.

Banner: Okay, so a PhD could make you a lot of money from patents… in pharmacology or engineering. Theoretical physics? Not so good. And if Banner did have any patents, they’ve probably been seized under eminent domain by the US military.  At the start of The Hulk film, he’s working a entry-level factory job at a botteling plant in Brazil. The minimum wage in Brazil is 1069.62 Real per month, that’s 12,835.44 Real per year, or around $2437.79 US per year, before everything goes wrong for him! He then runs off to India, works for Tony for a bit and then gets shot into space. Spidey may actually make more in allowance than Banner does, and Banner is a gown ass man with bills to pay: I’d imagine he loses a lot in ripped clothing.

Natasha and Barton: Pre Civil-war, both are government spooks, so how well does that pay? The salaries of CIA Intelligence Analysts based in the US range from $25,838 to $685,701 , with a median salary of $125,340, so let’s assume that Shield pays in a similar range: $685,701 per year for Director Fury, around 125,000 for Natasha and Cliff, which explains Cliff’s nice, middle-class mid-western home. Post civil war, presumably not great: we know that Natasha spends a lot of her savings running and hiding all across the world, and Cliff takes a deal and presumably lives of his savings, pension and his wife’s income.

Rhodes: Full USAF colonel with over 10 years service? $105,562.80 per year, plus $293.23 drill pay per drill and $175 per month hazard pay, and because he’s team Stark and not Team Cap in Civil War, he’d not lose any of that. He presumably also gets an injury pay-out after his accident. After T’challa and Stark, he might be the best paid avenger.

Dr Strange: spends all his money he made as a surgeon on trying to cure his hands: spends literally his last dollars heading to Nepal to train. Wong even jokes with him about their lack of worldly money when asking for a tuna-melt. But, can use illusion to make people think he has money, and his home and clothes etc. come with the job, so in the same boat as Thor in that he has no money, but needs none AKA, he’s a bastard to try and split a restaurant bill with.

Wanda and Vision: No know source of income, just sort of live in Tony’s hose and eat his food, and on top of that Wanda goes on the run after civil war… yet they can stay in fancy hotels in Edinburgh, a relatively expensive city, and Vison apparently bought them a house to retire in, so one of them has some source of money. Maybe Tony gave Vision years of back-pay form when he was still Jarvis, or maybe the vison has a day job, which is, frankly, hilarious. Could you imagine him as a barista? I can, and it makes me very happy.

Scott Lang: I’d assumed he’d be super, super broke, but apparently the average pay for a private security consultant in the Bay area is $85,430 per year. Not bad. Pity he gets sucked into the quantum realm just as his business is taking off, so presumably, flat broke again.

Bucky: no known income, and I doubt Hydra paid him for being the Winter Soldier so he probably has no savings, but he should, technically, qualify for a military pension. As a single veteran, he’d be  eligible for federal tax-free pension of up to $1732 per month, or $20,784 tax free per year. Not much for someone who lives in NYC. He may also be eligible for medical benefits over the loss of his arm. Whether or not he got to see any of that money given how confused his life has been over the past 10 years is unclear, but on paper he’s eligible.

T’challa: He is, quite possibly, richer than Stark, and as an absolute monarch pays no tax and has access to his Nation’s vast wealth in vibanium. It’s good to be the king!

Captain Marvel: USAF captain, and a test pilot; the test pilot school only accepts applicants with a service length of less than 9 years 6 months (10 years six moths of helicopters) as they don’t want older applicants. With 8 years service, $79,538.40, plus drill pay and hazard.  However, no know (human) pay since 1990. Flat broke.

Guardians of the Galaxy: no data, but I’m assuming “Cowboy Bebop” levels of perpetual never-ending poverty given the way they choose to live. I’d also assume Rocket has taken all their cash into some sort of Ponzi scheme of his own creation, because just look at him, of course he has.

Spidey: he’s got about $10 of his aunts’ money at any given time, so he can buy lunch… which may in fact be more than Banner or Lang, and we know it’s more that Strange or Thor.

 So, here the big one: how rich or how broke is Sam?

Sam Wilson: annoyingly, we’re not directly told what rank Sam held in any MCU film. USAF pararescue “Maroon berets” are generally NCO’s (but there’ are officer-ranked pararescue) , and he’s seen working on his wings at one point, where as officers don’t generally work on or maintain airframes. He’s shown wearing a Nation Air guard grey while jogging at one point to confuse the matter further. The general consensus on redit is he’s a former USAF tech sergeant (E-6). But how long was he in the air force? With six years service (the minimum sensible time he could have served to work in pararescue based on his age), that would be $41,464.80 per year, plus drill pay and hazard. As Anthony Mackie, the actor that plays him, was 36 as of Civil War, and assuming the character is the same age, and assuming he retired from the air force that year, and he joined the USAF at 17, the youngest you can join, he’d have served 19 years, giving him a pay of $51,566.40, the maximum pay you can get at this rank before promotion to Master Sergent,  but meaning he left just before he’d qualify for the 50% final salary pension you’d qualify for after 20 years. Which seems weird. So let’s assume the character is one year older than the actor that plays him and served 20 years (ages 17-37), that means Sam has a military pension of $25,783.20 per year (20,784 of it tax-free), plus any injury benefits. He councils other veterans, but doesn’t get paid for that. He also chooses Team Cap in Civil War, so would become a wanted criminal, and so lose his income between 2016 and 2018, and then gets snapped and has no income for 5 years, which would destroy his credit rating. Like the rest of Team Cap, he presumably gets his post snap pardon, and goes to work for the US government at his former pay and rank. However, given how Captain John Walker treats him as an equal, it’s possible he’s been promoted to a captain when the  hired back, giving him a pay of between $54,176.40 to $88,142.40 (with 20 years experience, depending on if they take into account his prior service or not, and how much prior service he has), but either way, he’s just starting this as a new job after being legally dead for 5 years: no savings, and no credit.

Commercial fishing vessels cost about 10% of their total value per year in maintenance alone. I can’t identify what sort of boat the Wilson’s have, but some quick googling indicates that the cheapest  15m long wooden in-shore shrimp trawler costs around $140,000, so that’s $14,000 per year in maintenance costs alone, minimum. And that’s a lower estimate, assuming the rest of the business is sound, which we know it isn’t.

So, in concussion, yes, Sam is in some serious financial trouble until he can re-build his savings and credit, but the scary bit is he’s not alone in that: he’s probably better off than Lang, Banner, Danvers, Strange, Thor, Bucky, Wanda and Parker. Only Clint (if he gets a full pardon and gets his full pension), Rhodes, Stark and T’challa aren’t in some sort of potential financial problems. That asshole bank teller was right: despite the fact it seems to pay well on paper, with a few exceptions, the Avengers financials are probibaly a mess. EDIT: Rocket is running the Ponzi scheme, if that’s not clear from context. The others know they have money somewhere, but not where it’s gone. And It’s been pointed out to me that as he’s technically a POW while he’s the Winter Soldier, Bucky is owed over 70 years back-pay, equal to over 3 million dollars, details in the notes.

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 15

Hannibal gives y/n an idea and y/n negotiates.

@viviace @deadman-inc-bikeshop @dovahdokren

Trigger warnings: graphic descriptions of violence

Aftercare was Hannibal's favorite part of the evening. He loved to spend long, indulgent hours pampering his darlings. But usually, there was only one. And that was Will. And Hannibal's clawfoot bathtub, although beautiful, was not big enough for both of you at the same time. Meaning, you had to take turns.

You and Will argued back and forth about who was in more desperate need of aftercare; each advocating for the other, of course. That was Hannibal's fault, really. He should have known better than to ask you to make a decision.

Hannibal emerged from the bathroom, sleeves rolled up and arms soaked to the elbow. "Who is first?"

Before you could speak, Will shoved you forward. "She is."

Hannibal knew better than to let the argument go on, and so did you. You followed him into the bathroom, the smell of lavender bath salts filling the air.

He removed your fluffy robe and watched you step into the warm bath. The water was just hot enough to soothe the aches in your muscles. Hannibal took his seat at the end of the tub where you rested your head. You leaned back and submerged your whole body. 

“You have such soft hair.” Hannibal said, pouring a bit of expensive-smelling shampoo in his palm. 

“Thanks, I use fabric softener and tumble dry it on low heat.” You answered. 

“You have a hard time accepting compliments, don’t you?” He probed, beginning to lather the shampoo into your hair. “Between that and the self-deprecation, I’d say you suffer from low self-esteem.” 

You felt yourself melting into him. The hypnotic motions of his hands chipped away at your defenses. “Is that really that surprising?” 

“For such an intelligent, sophisticated young beauty?” Hannibal chuckled. “I am surprised you don’t understand your worth.” 

“If it makes you feel any better,” You offered. “The fact that a psychotic cokehead fundamentalist Christian cult leader wants me dead tells me I’m doing something right.” 

“You are a force of nature, my indulgence.” Hannibal assured you, still massaging your head. “But you don’t need me to tell you that. You already know your power.” 

That got you thinking. Would it be so bad to just find a hunting rifle and blow Chase Mulvaney’s head off? What was stopping you? It certainly wasn’t your conscious. All your remaining moral fiber had been ripped to shreds over the course of the last month. 

“Tell me something about yourself, Hannibal.” You said, leaning back.

“What would you like to know?” He asked, retracting his hands. He cupped his hands in the water and poured some over your hair. 

“Do you ever think about morality?” You said, bluntly. 

The question pleasantly surprised him. “Quite a bit, actually. I like to think of myself as a student of philosophy, which deals heavily with the subject of ethics, human behavior, and yes, morality.” 

“Do you believe morality is subjective?” you tilted your head. 

“There’s not a doubt in my mind about it.” Hannibal smiled. “Those who think otherwise usually exemplify some of the best arguments for subjective morality.” 

“Religious nuts like Chase Mulvaney.” You said. “He and millions of others believe in objective morality, but can’t even keep it consistent among themselves.” 

“Darling,” Hannibal whispered. “You don’t have to wait for aftercare to talk philosophy with me. I would be happy to do so anytime.” 

You spent a half hour in the bath, Hannibal stroking, kissing and cuddling you. As much as you wanted to enjoy the affection, your mind was elsewhere. Perhaps it was just a hyperfixation, or post-multiple-orgasm clarity, but the only thought in your head was that Chase Mulvaney had to die. 

Your train of thought was chugging along smoothly until it was derailed by the violent buzzing of your phone against the tile floor. You leaned over the side of the tub, trying to make out the contact name from across the room. 

Hannibal dried his hands on a nearby towel and picked the phone up from the ground. 

“Who is it?” You asked. 

“This number is logged into your phone as just a picture of a...red demon?” Hannibal answered. 

“Oh, yeah.” You dropped your head. “I’ll call her back, just let it ring out.” 

“Who’s the demon?” Hannibal chuckled. 

You stepped out of the bathtub and reached for a towel. “Just somebody I know from work. Probably calling about covering a shift or something.” 

“Would that be the same person who believed I was the devil?” Hannibal raised an eyebrow, watching you wrap the towel around yourself.

You were about to say yes, but caught yourself. “No. Just some lady I work with who always refused to share her tips with the buses. Super entitled, total pain in the ass. I’ve been looking for an excuse to tell her off.” 

“Well, we can’t keep you from that, now can we.” Hannibal cupped your cheek in his hand and looked at your face admiringly. “There should be a clean nightgown for you on the bed. Please tell Will I’ll be ready for him in a couple minutes.” 

“Wow, you really did think of everything.” You rocked back on your heels and swung to your tip toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll let him know.” 

He kissed you back. “Thank you, my indulgence.” 

“Just one more thing.” You stopped in the threshold. “Could I please use your computer?” 

“I don’t see why not.” Hannibal looked up from the quickly draining tub. “By all means, what’s mine is yours.” 

You smiled and blew him a kiss before absconding into the bedroom. 

The nightgown he’d laid out for you had far more ruffles and lace than you’d consider appropriate for sleepwear, but it was comfortable and fit you well. 

You passed the message along to Will, but hurriedly. You were in a rush to be alone. You had some business to attend to.

You sat at Hannibal's desk, turned on his lamp and logged into your google drive on his computer. While you waited for the content to fully load, you scrolled through your contacts. When you found the demon, you pressed the green dial button.

It didn't take her long to pick up. "[F/N]! Finally, I've been trying to call you all night."

"Yeah, I know." You rolled your eyes. "Some of us have lives to live. Not that you'd know anything about that."

"No need to be snippy." She scolded. "I have an offer for you."

"If it doesn't involve a portion of ad revenue, I'm not interested." You shook your head. "I'm not settling for a flat fee while you make the real money off my experience. My goddamn trauma."

"Sounds like we woke up and chose bitchy today." She teased. "You're not even going to hear me out?"

"Freddie," you began, pulling up a document on the computer. "I happen to have a four-page, comprehensive statement of what happened that night right here. Half of it was cut out for the FBI report."

You could practically hear Freddie drooling already. "And?"

"I won't accept anything under $1200 for it." You finished. "Or 30% of all ad revenue on this article."

"That's not fair." She protested. "Best I can do is $750."

"You made ten times that off my first article." You leaned back in the chair. "Don't try to lowball me, Lounds, I can do this all night."

"Since when were you the assertive type?" She asked, deflecting the conversation.

"Remember when you told me my fifteen minutes of fame was running out and you were my only option to get my story out there?" You recalled.

"At the time, I was right." Freddie contested.

"That was before Chase went from a cokehead to a domestic terrorist." You said. "Now I actually can take it to a more reputable outlet."

"But here you are anyway." She said. "Extorting a small, woman-owned independent news site just for the hell of it. I've got bills to pay, y'know."

"With gaslighting like that, I'm sure they're astronomical." You rolled your eyes. Sighing, you propped your knees against the desk. "Look, I don't hate you, Freddie."

"I don't hate you either." She agreed. "I thought trashing each other was just our mutual love language."

"The only reason I'm considering TattleCrime at all is you." You admitted. "You're loud and unapologetic and it makes people listen to you. I need someone who can take the heat."

"Because you know that mainstream news outlets are going to cut your writing down to maintain the status quo." Freddie finished your thought.

You pursed your lips. "Exactly. You're the only one who's got the cajones to run the whole story."

"I'm flattered." She said, then paused. "If I move some things around, I can probably get you $1000."

You opened a new tab and typed some words into the search bar. You scrolled through the results, leaving Freddie without an answer.

"Hello?" She said. "[F/N]? Did I lose you?"

"How soon can you pay?" You asked.

Your phone buzzed. You had a notification from paypal. A thousand dollars from Fredrica Lounds.

"Right fucking now." She answered.

"You've got yourself a deal." You said, firmly. You typed out Freddie's email address and pushed send. "It's all yours."

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Twenty-One

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: as someone who is physically incapable of reading fics and other long tumblr posts line by line and word for word, i think it’s so fucking cool that a bunch of you regularly, excitedly read what i post. i would not blame you at all for skim reading. thank you.

***

The majority of Cassian’s life was spent battling with the fact of his own existence. First he was fatherless, then motherless, then homeless. Being taken in by Rhys’s parents, who bought him nice clothes and nicer gifts, was like putting a bandaid over a stab wound. It couldn’t change the questions that made up Cassian at his core: was he equal to everyone else in this world, or had he been born inherently inferior? Did he deserve the same happinesses that his friends so carelessly reaped, or should he step back and know his place?

The older he grew, the more he grappled with those questions—until the night he learned who his father was, and the truth behind his existence. That he was likely a product of rape. Nearly driving himself drunk off a mountainside in Monte Carlo was enough to make him realize with a startling clarity: he couldn’t keep asking himself the same questions for the rest of his life. At some point, he was going to have to buck the fuck up and make his peace with the world, whether he believed he deserved to be in it or not. And though it might have taken him a while to reach that conclusion, Cassian can proudly say he did it. Not long into his post-college years, Cassian finally grew up.

By twenty-seven, he was secure enough in himself and his place in the world to not have to deal with those doubtful voices every waking minute. His life was figured out, and his ego was unshakeable. Until Nesta Archeron entered the story.

Now at twenty-eight, Cassian is again unsecured—this time in a less tragic but more confusing way. Because everything he thinks he knows about himself, about life, she insists on proving wrong.

Including the issue of celebrating his birthday.

“I feel like I should have asked this earlier,” Cassian mutters to Nesta as they stand in the cozy resort lobby, “but why is Az here?”

Nesta looks both humiliated and resigned when she mutters back, “He wouldn’t pay for the resort unless I let him come with us.”

“At that point you should’ve just let me pay, babe.” He watches Azriel’s back as he chats up the lady at the front desk while getting their room keys.

“On your own birthday? It would have ruined the point,” Nesta says.

Cassian doesn’t retort that having his brother present at their couple’s retreat also ruins the point. He’s sure she already knows.

Nesta’s reaction when Cassian told her that he didn’t celebrate his birthday was unforgettable.

“No one in our inner circle really cares about birthdays,” he had shrugged. “Feyre’s birthday is the exception because she’s sort of the outsider, and Rhys will find any excuse to worship at her feet. But the rest of us? I don’t know, it was never a big deal.”

As someone who’s never skipped a birthday once in her life, even when she was isolated and ignoring her family’s phone calls, Nesta took this as a personal offense. “I need to get you out of this cabin,” she stated.

Which brings them here, to Colorado’s finest ski resort situated high in the Rocky Mountains. The lobby is littered with overstuffed armchairs and a crackling fireplace, and huge windows look out over the blinding white mountains.

Az starts heading their way, key cards in hand, when Cassian suddenly turns to Nesta. “We need to find him a woman,” he whispers.

“What?”

“We can’t let him third wheel with us for the whole weekend. We’ll never get time alone.” Cassian is set on this new plan, already scanning the lobby for women around Azriel’s age.

“I agree, but—”

Azriel reaches the two of them, tossing a room card to Nesta. “You can stop talking about me now. I’ll be spending most of my time hitting the slopes.”

Cassian and Nesta mumble a halfhearted, “We weren’t talking about you.”

He narrows his eyes at them. “Uh-huh. Just remember whose credit card this is going on.” Picking up his ski gear and duffel bag, he turns for the elevator.

Nesta frowns up at Cassian once Az is gone, more adorably than she probably intends. “Do you think he’s upset?”

He scoffs. “We should be upset at him.” He doesn’t want to have to worry about his brother while he’s on vacation, and Az definitely wouldn’t want him to worry either, but it isn’t something that can be helped.

Despite his irritation, he might go skiing with Az later this afternoon. Just to keep him company.

***

Nesta will give it to Azriel—he’s a man of fine taste, and also generous with his spending. She originally wanted a normal room for her and Cassian, preferably the cheapest one, but Az went behind her back and upgraded them to a fully decked out penthouse suite.

“This is too much for just a weekend,” she tells him over the phone while Cassian is in the bathroom. “How am I supposed to pay you back for this?”

“Why would you pay me back?” he says dismissively. “I’m rich.”

When Nesta tries arguing with him, he only replies, “I don’t take money from poor people,” and hangs up on her.

Which leaves Nesta to enjoy the four-spray shower and heated bathroom tiles free of charge. By the time she comes out of the shower, Cassian has already left with Azriel to hit some slopes before dinner, though not before leaving her a note promising to teach her how to ski tomorrow.

Nesta doesn’t even get to unwrap her towel from her body before realizing her phone is ringing incessantly, all the way from the other side of the suite. Jogging over to the living area, Nesta answers Emerie’s call. “What’s up?”

“Where are you?” Emerie greets without introduction.

“At the ski lodge?” Nesta answers, confused. “I already told you, for Cassian’s birthday.”

“I know that,” Emerie hisses. “I mean what room are you in? This place is huge.”

“Wait—you’re here?” Nesta looks quickly around herself, as if Emerie will pop up from behind the couch.

“Not just me. So is Gwyn.” Nesta hears rustling on the other side of the line, and then Emerie saying from a distance, “Answer for your crimes, Gwyneth. Say hi.”

A new, clearer voice comes over the phone. “Hiii, Nesta.” Gwyn sounds weak, like she is not having fun at all.

“What the hell do you two think you’re doing?” Nesta demands.

“Well, it’s a long story and I need to see you first. Also, I have to pee. Where is your room?”

Five minutes later, Gwyn and Emerie are sitting obediently before the roaring fireplace in Nesta and Cassian’s suite.

Now fully dressed, Nesta stabs a finger at Emerie. “Explain.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Emerie says indignantly. “Gwyn barged into my place at eight in the morning and dragged me all the way here—”

“It was an emergency!” Gwyn tosses her hands in the air. “It still is an emergency. That’s why we’re here.”

“I’m here because Gwyn is scared of traveling alone,” Emerie interjects. “And driving on highways.”

“Guys!” Nesta snaps.

Gwyn makes a whining sound of defeat and drops her head into her hands. After a long moment, she speaks. “He asked if we could go to dinner together. Like, right to my face. And I panicked and said yes, because I couldn’t think of a reason to say no, but obviously I can’t do that. So this morning I cashed in my sick days and told him I was going on vacation for a whole week.” Gwyn looks up at Nesta with pleading teal eyes. “Please can we stay here the whole week?”

Nesta stares at Gwyn, feeling like her brain was just sucked dry. “First of all, who’s ‘he’?”

“Max!” She stands in her outburst. “The love of my life. The man who works on the fourth floor of the library. Do you pay attention to the groupchat at all?”

Oh yeah, that guy. “You came all the way here,” Nesta drawls out slowly, “so you wouldn’t have to have dinner with your crush?”

“It wasn’t just any dinner.” Gwyn flops back onto the couch. “It was a date. I can’t go on a date with him. First dates lead to second dates, and second dates lead to—sex.” She whispers the last word.

“Really?” Emerie frowns, not missing a beat at the mention of Gwyn’s deepest fear. “What kind of dates have you been having?”

“I haven’t been having any dates,” Gwyn says. “Why, how long do you usually see someone before doing it?”

“First date, at most,” Emerie shrugs.

“No,” Nesta steps in, sending Emerie a bewildered look. “Gwyn, you’ve known this guy for a while now. If he’s half as decent as you think he is, he won’t expect sex by the second date. And even if he does—”

“What does it matter?” Gwyn wails. “It’ll come up eventually. And when it does, he’ll think I’m a freak.”

“He won’t get a chance to think anything before I kill him,” Emerie says, eyes darkening.

Nesta says nothing, knowing this is something she can’t advise Gwyn about. Whether or not Gwyn chooses to share her past and unresolved trauma with another man, and whether or not that man reacts in an unshitty way isn’t something Nesta can determine. So she just states for the record, “You’re not a freak.”

“But it’s what he’ll think.”

“Then you shouldn’t be with him in the first place,” Nesta says firmly. Even though she knows better than anyone that it isn’t always that simple.

Proving her point, Gwyn scoffs and looks away. “You don’t get it.”

“What I really don’t get,” Nesta says, “is why you took your lie so literally. Why did you come all the way out here instead of hiding out at home for the week?”

“Merrill sees and knows everything. I can’t lie to her.” Gwyn cringes. “If I stayed at home, she would sniff me out as soon as she got me on the phone, and then I’d really be screwed.”

Nesta cocks her head at Gwyn, squinting her eyes in something akin to fascination.

“I had the same reaction,” Emerie pipes up. She shakes her head at Gwyn. “I’ve never met a more melodramatic idiot, truly.”

Gwyn curls into herself on the couch, looking ashamed.

Nesta sighs sharply, then whips out a hand. “Give me your wallets. I’ll go downstairs right now and see if I can book a room last minute.”

Emerie sits up at that. “Uh… I’m not sure I can afford a place like this.”

“Neither can I,” Nesta says. “That’s why Azriel paid for all of us.”

Gwyn’s eyes go comically round. “Azriel’s here?”

“Unfortunately.” She snaps her fingers at both girls. “Credit or debit, now.”

“So… I’m assuming we can’t just share this huge suite with you guys, huh?” Gwyn says hesitantly.

There might be actual flames in Nesta’s eyes. This is Cassian’s birthday, goddammit. Cassian, who hasn’t celebrated a birthday since he was eleven. “Please don’t push me.”

Gwyn and Emerie, very reluctantly, hand their cards over to Nesta. Emerie hands over two, just in case.

In the end, Nesta doesn’t use any of their money, but charges the new room to her own account. She’ll work it off by putting extra hours into Night Court, she tells herself.

When she returns to the penthouse suite, she spies tracks outlined in melted snow at the doorway. Shit. She barges inside to find Cassian and Azriel standing in the middle of the living area, with Emerie looking awkward on the couch.

“Uh, we just got back—” Cassian starts.

“I can explain,” Nesta interrupts.

A faucet turns off in the distance, and Gwyn peeks her head out of the bathroom door.

“Oh, shit,” Azriel says in delight. “Freckles is here too?”

Gwyn looks like she’s about to turn right back around to the bathroom. Nesta and Cassian both throw Az a baffled look, but Nesta says, “I can fix this. I’ve already fixed it.” She goes over to Emerie and hands her a key card. “You and Gwyn are going to stay on the first floor, and you won’t bother me or Cassian for the duration of our stay. It’ll be like you’re not even here.” She whips toward Gwyn, who still hovers near the bathroom doorway. “And at the end of this weekend, you’re going back to work like the adult you are and taking care of your shit.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Gwyn says quietly, lowering her head.

Cassian comes over to Nesta, whispering, “So, you didn’t invite them to keep Az company or anything, right?”

“I can hear you,” Azriel says.

“Of course not,” Nesta whispers back. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“Really? Because I thought it was kind of convenient—”

“I can still hear you,” Az repeats.

“So can I,” Emerie nods.

“Shut up,” Nesta hisses at the both of them. Grabbing Cassian’s still-gloved hand, she drags him upstairs and away to their bedroom. When the door shuts behind them, she turns to him and blurts, “I’m so sorry.”

Cassian only laughs, taking his ski jacket off and brushing away the wet snow from the back. “I’m not.” He tosses his jacket and gloves over a chair and approaches Nesta, tugging her closer by her oversized turtleneck. “And what did I tell you about wasting your apologies?”

Nesta doesn’t care. “I ruined your birthday.”

“My birthday’s not until tomorrow,” he says with a straight face. “But honestly, I like this a lot more than just you, me, and Az. At least he can’t third wheel anymore, right?”

She shakes her head insistently, frustration boiling in her blood. “Everything’s going wrong.”

“But you solved our problems.” He finds Nesta’s clenched fists and unfurls them with gentle hands. “You got the girls their own room, and now Az can be distracted with those two. We can still be alone. We win.”

Nesta purses her lips, unconvinced, when Cassian adds, “But seriously, though—what the fuck are they doing here?”

She exhales deeply, letting her head drop forward onto Cassian’s chest. “I don’t know,” she mutters. “Gwyn panicked about some personal stuff and thought it was a good idea to come to me. I don’t want to make her leave, though.” Gwyn is being stupid right now, without a doubt, but Nesta won’t abandon her. Neither will Emerie.

God, having friends sucks.

Cassian threads a hand through her loose hair and hums. “Gwyn was smart for coming to you.”

***

Dinner is held outside in the snow and cold, but everyone bundles up and sits down at a table that surrounds one of the multiple fire pits in the courtyard. Cassian convinced Nesta to let Gwyn and Emerie hang out with them for the weekend, because what else are those poor girls supposed to do, and now the women babble over each other as they decide what to drink.

Cassian sits back and takes it in, the sight feeling heartwarmingly familiar and strangely brand new at the same time. Nesta ends up being the one to order everybody’s drinks, and once the waiter scampers back inside, Gwyn releases a terse breath. “Sometimes I still get scared of that tone.”

“I’m always scared of it,” Az mutters, eyeing Nesta from the corner of his eye.

“What tone?” Cassian laughs. He knows Nesta is still a little wound up from her plans going off the rails, but she hasn’t done anything scary.

“I’m used to it,” Emerie says through a mouthful of fries, “but I think that waiter almost cried.”

“That’s how I sound all the time.” Nesta shrugs, sitting back.

“What tone?” Cassian repeats.

Nesta clicks her tongue impatiently. “You know how I talk. I’m straightforward.”

“And harsh,” Azriel adds. “Even aggressive.”

“Watch it.” Gwyn turns stern eyes onto him over the fire pit.

“I have no idea what you all are talking about,” Cassian says. He turns to Nesta. “You sound perfectly normal to me.”

She narrows her perfect brows at him, and Emerie laughs, “I don’t know if that’s romantic or ignorant.”

But now that they’re discussing it, Cassian does distinctly remember Nesta having a sharp edge to her words while they were getting to know each other. Did it disappear over time, or has he really stopped noticing it?

He doesn’t get to think about it before their drinks arrive, followed soon by a dinner of fancy sandwiches.

Cassian cuts his beef sandwich in half and gives the other half to Nesta, and she does the same with her turkey sandwich. They eat and drink around the crackling fire, laughing and talking about tomorrow’s plans (“It’s not your birthday, Azriel,” Nesta says. “Stop asking about gifts.”). Cassian and Emerie talk idly about video games over wine, and even though it isn’t really his thing, he can see her excitement over it and gladly indulges it.

Once everyone is finished eating and is slightly drunk, Gwyn pulls a small sleeve of crackers out of her puffy jacket, followed by a fun-sized Hershey’s bar and a handful of mini marshmallows.

“What are you doing?” Nesta says.

“Making dessert.” Gwyn builds a mini s’more and places it carefully on her fork so she can toast it over the fire pit. When it’s done, she leans forward even more to try to put it on Nesta’s plate. “For you. Thank you for letting me and Emerie stay.”

Nesta jumps, catching the s’more with her plate and batting Gwyn away from the fire pit at the same time. “You’ll set your hair on fire,” she hisses.

Gwyn’s hair remains safe, but now Cassian catches his brother watching Gwyn amusedly from the corner of his eye. “Can I have one?” Az says.

“I’m all out.” Gwyn says while building another s’more, refusing to meet his eyes.

Cassian and Nesta share a look, a hundred words thrown back and forth between them in that glance. She scoots her chair closer to him to slip her cold hands into his warm ones, but while the conversation carries on around the table, she leans in and whispers, “I’m not a busybody but…”

“I am,” he whispers back. “Az is being weird, weirder than usual.”

Nesta nods. “I’ve never seen him so—outgoing.”

Neither has Cassian, but before he can mention anything else, he looks up to find that Gwyn and Azriel’s seats at the table are empty. “How much did those two drink?” he breathes.

Nesta follows his gaze, seeing what he’s seeing: Azriel and Gwyn wandering clumsily around the snowy courtyard. Or rather, Az is trying to chase Gwyn down for a s’more, while she clutches her mini marshmallows to her chest and vehemently yells, “They’re mine!”

Meanwhile, Emerie is half asleep at the table.

Cassian watches as Gwyn nears the towering fir tree at the center of the courtyard and slips. Az shoots out a hand to catch her, but not before her ass hits the stone, hard. He pulls her back up, no longer fooling around, and Gwyn rubs her butt in pain.

Cassian suddenly feels Nesta squeezing the life out of his hands, and he looks over to find fury written across her face. For a heartbeat, he feels worried for Az.

“Go deal with him,” Nesta says lowly. “Before I do.”

Not needing any more words to understand, he stands out of his seat and heads out into the courtyard. He doesn’t know why Nesta thinks Gwyn needs protecting, but it makes him feel protective himself. Approaching the duo, he sees that Azriel finally acquired the leftover s’more ingredients from Gwyn.

“There’s only like half a cracker left,” Az mutters to himself, shaking the baggie.

“Is he bothering you?” Cassian asks Gwyn, who still looks grumpy over losing their skirmish.

Whipping her head to Cassian like he’s her savior, Gwyn nods furiously. “Please make him stop.”

Cassian turns to Azriel with rage in his eyes, a clear What the fuck do you think you’re doing?

But Az shakes his head in denial. “It’s not like that. Look, she’s smirking at me!” He points over Cassian’s shoulder.

When Cassian looks, Gwyn is already walking back to the fire pit, holding her bruised ass.

Az starts, “What a fake little—”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Cassian interrupts. “Yesterday you’re crying over Elain and today you’re flirting with Nesta’s friend?”

Azriel goes serious, his face turning colder than the night air. “How do you know about Elain?” he says gruffly.

“Everyone knows, Azriel.” Cassian stares down his brother, wondering if he’ll finally get him to get his head screwed on straight after these past weeks of secretive bullshit.

Azriel sets his jaw, but a muscle there ticks.

“Will you finally at least tell me what’s going on in your head?” Cassian pleads. “Because I can’t keep guessing.”

Azriel glances toward the dinner table, as if checking to see that no one is paying attention to them. Looking back, he inhales a breath. “You want to know why I left Velaris?”

Like Nesta, Azriel is not one to quickly make himself vulnerable. So there’s no blatant emotion in his voice when he says, “I started seeing her at the end of summer, not long after she broke up with her ex. And it was so…nice after every other relationship I’ve been in has gone wrong. We kept it quiet, and because of that, it was peaceful.” Azriel’s eyes meet Cassian’s twin ones, and he smirks without humor. “But you already know what that’s like, don’t you?”

He does. Cassian crosses his arms, waiting for Az to continue.

“Anyway, we had a good run. For a long time, it was mostly just sex, but I liked her. I liked her a lot.” Az kicks at the snow-dusted cobblestones. “Then Christmas came around, and Rhys found out.” His face darkens as he remembers, and Cassian stiffens, knowing what’s next isn’t good. Sometimes Rhys forgets the boundary between boss and brother.

“He didn’t say anything about it to Elain, of course,” Azriel says. “But he dragged my ass aside and gave me this huge lecture about us using each other as rebounds. Said ‘Feyre’s sister’ deserves better or some shit. I told him there was more to it than that, but he wouldn’t listen. Instead he brought Vanserra & Co. into it, like his business matters had anything to do with me and Elain.” Azriel’s eyes crinkle at the corners in a puzzled way. “So I got to thinking, ‘why would he bring the Vanserras up?’ He made it seem like such a big deal.” The toe of his boot digs a hole into the ground.

Sympathy churns alongside anger in Cassian’s chest for Azriel’s situation, anger at Rhysand for crossing that line between brothers. He’s only momentarily grateful that Rhys never tried doing something similar to him and Nesta.

“I thought she was over that other guy, Lucien,” Az continues. “But maybe she’s not, if Rhys is so concerned about what Lucien’s stepfather thinks. Anyway, that’s why I ran. Because I knew she liked me, but I also knew she didn’t love me. I didn’t want us to cause all that trouble with Rhys just to end up backed into a corner one day, having nowhere else to go because she loves someone else and I’m just a rebound. It would be awkward for everyone involved.” He scratches the back of his neck. “It’s mostly my fault, for always chasing after women I can’t have.” He finally looks up at Cassian. “When you talk to Elain, does it sound like she hates me?” The question is quiet, straightforward.

“No,” Cassian answers, voice rough. Even if Azriel wants to hide his feelings, Cassian won’t. “She doesn’t seem like she hates you. I don’t even think she’s mad at you.” Concerned, anxious, upset—that’s Elain as far as he knows.

“She should hate me,” Azriel says. “She should get pissed, burn my old clothes, and swear to never talk to me again. That’s the only way she can move on.” Maybe even move back to Lucien, is what goes unsaid.

Cassian isn’t so sure about that. Even as he feels for Az, he thinks both of his brothers should get slapped upside the head for how they’ve been acting lately. He won’t be the one to do it, but he might get Nesta to relay a message to Elain. It’ll be the same thing. “I’m sorry,” he tells Az instead. “I know I’ve been hard on you lately. When we get home, I’ll start doing better.” He claps Az on the shoulder and squeezes.

Azriel surprises him by scoffing, looking away in disbelief. “Wow, being compassionate is really a full time job for you, huh?” He claps Cassian’s shoulder back, pulling him into a sudden hug. “You’ve already done more than enough,” he says into Cassian’s ear. “Go to your girlfriend and take a rest.”

Taken aback, Cassian nods and pulls away. He’s about to turn around and leave when Az says, “By the way, I wasn’t flirting with Gwyn.”

Cassian raises a brow. “You were definitely doing something.”

Az rolls his eyes. “I’m not giving her anything she can’t handle. But in case you haven’t noticed, I have no interest in other women right now.” He makes a face. “Especially not her.”

Cassian chuckles. “I believe you. It’s Nesta you need to worry about.”

“Whatever. I’m not scared of her.”

That makes Cassian laugh even harder, but he turns around, ready to go back to said girlfriend. As he nears the fire pit, though, he finds that Gwyn is already there and cuddled up to Nesta. On Nesta’s other side, Emerie now sits in Cassian’s chair, asleep on her friend’s shoulder. He stops in his tracks.

Cassian wasn’t lying when he told Nesta that he was happy about their changed vacation plans—he believes the more the merrier, and he loves these people. Yet he can’t help but wish the two of them could be alone for just one day. Only one.

God, sometimes having friends sucks.

***

a/n: this is a two parter so next chapter we’ll finally be getting more nessian alone time

tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @frosted-crackers @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland

[logicalbookthief]

Things Left Unsaid -- An Analysis of Rei & Touya

Apparently Rei has been getting a lot of flack lately, all of it undeserved, and since I had a post analyzing her relationship with Touya in the works already, I figured no time like the present.

Disclaimer #1: There are a lot of issues with the writing for Rei’s character that have nothing to do with her and everything to do with how the storyline is using her, which I will address and examine.

Disclaimer #2: I’m someone who, while always curious as to what kind of relationship Rei had with her oldest son before he died, never thought it would be revealed that Touya was close to his mom. I don’t think you get the Dabi we see in Chapters 290-295 without him being so warped by his relationship with his father yet so dependent on his attention that he was willing to kill his brother and himself simply for his father’s acknowledgement.

But that’s what I find so interesting about Rei and Touya -- it’s a relationship that mainly consists of regrets and things left unsaid. There isn’t the anger or resentment Dabi feels for Endeavor, because that intense level of emotion sprung from the loss of the father who used to be his whole world. His feelings toward his mother seem more amicable, but also more distant.

And while she could’ve done some things differently in regards to her oldest, I want to make it clear that the distance between them was very much by design.

After all, Touya was the end goal of their marriage. It was never any secret as to why Enji wanted to marry her and to some extent Rei must’ve realized that this child was not meant to be hers: the child was the transaction, the thing she was needed to create, to give to her husband. Of course she loved Touya and was likely his primary caregiver for most of his life, but there was no doubt that once his quirk manifested and he could begin his hero training, his life would be dominated by his father. Which is what happened.

Here, I would like to point out something I noticed in the flashback chapters. We never see any panels of Enji alone with any of his children during their infancy -- even with Shouto, the perfect child he longed for, we see Rei holding Shouto, sitting by him as he sleeps. Enji is there tangentially. Once Shouto begins his training, that is when we see him with his father.

So to see Enji with Touya when he was a baby, prior to his quirk manifesting, strikes me as a big deal. But it makes sense if you remember that he’d placed all his hopes, dreams and expectations on his firstborn. Initially, it doesn’t look like he even considered the possibility that Touya wouldn’t be his successor or that his little eugenics experiment would fail; this was his first, most optimistic attempt at a masterpiece. So I don’t believe it’s far-fetched to see him spend more time with Touya right off the bat (it’s what will make the eventual abandonment all the more crushing).

However, Rei isn’t seen at all in the snippet of Touya’s infancy, despite us knowing she was relegated to the caregiver role. Rei is literally out of the picture. Compare this to how she features prominently in Shouto’s infancy or how we see her holding a baby Natsuo. You could argue that, hey, we don’t see her holding a baby Fuyumi either, but there’s other scenes where Fuyumi’s attached to her mother’s hip or crying over her being hurt. Things that suggest a closeness, when the only scene we get of just her and Touya is one where they’re at odds. 

As we move further into Touya’s childhood, though, Rei becomes the only voice we hear advocate for him against his father. I’m referencing two specific instances:

When Enji coerces her into having more children to replace Touya now that his father has deemed him a failure, something she knows will hurt their son deeply.

And after Touya lashes out at Shouto, which Rei doesn’t blame on Touya, but rather on his father. She delivers such a satisfying condemnation of his actions, probably the most cutting one Endvr’s received to date, and it so accurately sums up one of his major character flaws.

How can you call yourself a hero when you can’t even face your own son?

The tragedy of it all is that Rei never said any of this in front of Touya -- it was always said in private, just to her husband. That alone took courage, yes, but it would’ve meant everything to Touya to hear her condemn his father aloud. Instead when she does speak to him, she says this:

It’s why I can’t wrap my head around that scene in Ch 302, where after Enji admits he didn’t know what to say to Touya, Rei replies, “Neither did I.” 

When we’re shown in flashbacks during that same chapter that she did understand her son. “He just wants to be acknowledged by you” is quite the indication that she, at the very least, understood the cause of Touya’s turmoil even if she couldn’t fully relate to it herself. So why can’t she say any of this to him?

The answer is in the way she addresses Touya, as it is nearly identical to how Nao addresses Tenko in this scene:

Both Touya and Tenko grew up in similar households: the father had all the power, physical and financial, so the mothers were left to try and comfort their children in a way that didn’t go against their husbands’ desires -- and so, to use Tenko’s own words, they would “reject them with kindness.”

So it’s no wonder that Touya lashes out at his mother after she suggests he pursue other things. He isn’t five like Tenko was, he’s thirteen and has a much clearer understanding of why she says this and why it’s a bit hypocritical, since he’s aware of her situation, too.

Just as she was bound by her family, who wanted her to marry Endvr for the money and status, he’s bound by the expectations of his family. I’m not sure if I’ve seen anyone else touch on this detail, but when Touya states that he knows his grandparents sold his mom into marriage so his dad could have a child, we could infer that Touya knows enough to realize that his mother might not have necessarily wanted him.

Not him specifically, but any child — the story has neglected to flesh her out beyond her marriage and motherhood, so we have no idea if Rei wanted to become a mother prior to this arrangement, despite how much she loves her kids now — although it is possible that he might’ve internalized it this way.

So you have Touya, who at least knows with certainty that his father wanted him to exist, yet he comes to understand that his father only wants him if he can meet a specific set of expectations, and if he cannot, he’ll be discarded. If he can’t surpass All Might, he can’t fulfill his reason for existing and his father will have to replace him. So to have his mother urge him to follow a path other than becoming a hero would mean, to Touya, accepting that he is the mistake he fears he is. Of course he isn’t going to respond well to that.

I don’t like when people try to compare Touya’s reaction in this moment to Shouto’s when Rei tells him he isn’t bound by his father’s blood, using that to paint Shouto as the “good” child and Touya as the “bad” one. They didn’t react differently because of any innate sense of goodness or lack thereof -- they reacted differently because the situations are different.

Telling Shouto that he didn’t have to be like his father comforted Shouto, who only knew his father as the bully who hurt his mom. He associated his father, and his father’s fire, with all of that fear and pain -- and thus, he associated the part of himself that took after his father with those feelings. She wasn’t denying his dream of becoming a hero, only assuring him that when he became a hero it could be whatever kind of hero he chose to be, that he wasn’t doomed to be like his father.

Whereas what she tells Touya sounds a lot like what his father told him, which was to give up on being a hero and pursue other aspirations.

Encouraging Shouto to become his own version of a hero still falls in line with what Endvr ultimately wants, which is for Shouto to be a hero capable of surpassing All Might. Whereas this is what happens when Touya continues to train to do that against his father’s wishes:

This is where the framing begins to bother me and where Rei’s characterization becomes inconsistent. 

So in this scene from Ch 302, we see Enji abusing his wife for “letting” Touya continue to train, punishing her for her “failure” to stop him. Obviously, none of that is Rei’s fault. If anything, Enji would be more responsible for preventing Touya from hurting himself since he’s the reason his son is hurting himself in the first place.

Moreover, the fact that he hits Rei over this sort of muddies the water of an previously-established narrative. Since the Sports Festival arc, we’ve known that Endvr abused his wife because she tried to interfere with Shouto’s training. It got to the point where she was terrified of her husband and it drove her to a breakdown. Why introduce this new aspect to the abuse, when it was already established that a) he was physically abusive and b) his motivations for abusing her were explicit to the audience? 

I’m not saying it doesn’t make sense that a man who hits his wife for one reason could find another reason to do it and justify his actions to himself. And while the scene does portray Endvr in a bad light to show how wrong his actions are, literally draping his figure in shadow, why does it even dare to suggest the idea that Rei was remiss in her duties as a mother? Again, the scene isn’t even necessary, since the narrative has long-since showed the audience that Enji abused his wife. 

By itself, the scene would read as further exploration of how Rei was victimized and how it affected her children. When you look at it with the chapter as a whole, though? Remember, this is the chapter where Rei claims that all of the family shares the blame in what happened to Touya, displacing some of the blame that rightfully rests on Enji. 

But my major gripe with this scene is how it reframes the sole moment we get of Rei and Touya alone. Because we know that Rei understands Touya, based on her confrontations with her husband in Ch 301 & 302. Rather than encourage him to be what he wants or acknowledge that his father is in the wrong, however, her advice falls in line with what Enji wants -- to stop Touya from training. And this comes after a scene where we see Enji beat his wife when she doesn’t stop Touya from training.

With all that in mind, it could potentially be read as Rei trying stop Touya for the sake of protecting herself and the family -- I don’t think it’s coincidence that in the scene where he hits her that we see Shouto, Fuyumi & Natsuo all as witnesses who are very distressed by what’s happening to their mother -- at the cost of Touya’s need to be validated. And if executed well or at least better than it has here, that wouldn’t be a bad choice of narrative per se, and it would fit into the pattern where the households the villains were raised in -- notably Shigaraki, Dabi & Toga -- mimic the society they live in, just on a smaller scale.

Except. Does that sort of narrative make sense based on what we already know about Rei?

Certainly, it is natural to want to protect yourself under physical and/or emotional duress by appeasing your abuser. This sort of complicated dynamic appears in the Shimura family, too. Just like in the house that Kotaro built, the Todoroki family revolves around the desires of the abuser and is dictated by his whims.

I would argue that Nao does give us a well-written example of this narrative. From the beginning, it’s established that she loves Tenko dearly. But in the house her husband built, there’s no room to love her son as he deserves. She prioritizes the feelings of Tenko’s father for the sake of maintaining peace in the household and this is established quickly and plainly.

Early on in the flashback, Kotaro exerts his control over the house, while Nao + her parents look uncomfortable. Despite this, we watch as they comply with his rules, all at the expense of Tenko’s feelings. When she stands up to Kotaro at last, it is not where Tenko can see and already too late. It’s a painful story, full of regret and sadness, but it is consistent from start to end. Nobody feels out-of-character or there to prop up anybody else.

So why doesn’t Rei feel as consistent in this narrative?

Because it doesn’t fit with everything we knew about Rei prior to her abuser’s subpar redemption arc.

The way she interacts with Touya would make sense, if this was how she was portrayed from the start. However, her behavior in Shouto’s flashback -- where she was first introduced -- contrasts what we get in the later Todoroki flashbacks.

Let’s compare this to the scenes in Ch 302. Here, Rei interferes on Shouto’s behalf. She advocates for her son in front of Shouto where he can hear. She stands up to his bully/villain and tries to protect him, while also validating his feelings in the process. Directly after this, Enji hits her, not for failing to comply with his demands, but for defying him. 

It is difficult to reconcile this Rei with the Rei we get in Ch 302. And if you try to find an in-story reason for the inconsistency, the options either do a disservice to Rei or make things even more painful for Touya. But I’m sure most of you have realized that I’m going to suggest a reason for this inconsistency that goes beyond the canon.

Because when Rei was first introduced in the story, Endvr was unequivocally the villain in the Todoroki family, not some misguided patriarch trying to atone for his “past” mistakes. Years later and in the midst of his redemption arc, the narrative seems to be intent on making this man more palatable to readers, and it’s used Rei at every opportunity to prop up his efforts to be better. Often, though, it takes some of the heat off Enji by displacing it onto other family members, most significantly Rei & Touya.

Like, you can literally see the difference in the frame from early in the manga to now:

Ch 39: Endvr trains his five-year-old to the point where he’s throwing up due overextension and being punched by a fully grown adult who is also his father. Rei tries to protect her son and gets slapped by Endvr. All the blames rests squarely on Endvr, who is clearly the aggressor and painted as the villain here.

Ch 302: Endvr hits Rei for not preventing Touya from sneaking out to train, knocking her to the ground. Again, Endvr is clearly the aggressor, but oh this time it’s not driven solely by his selfish desires it’s also cocnern for his son; Rei is the victim but oh she also should have been watching him more closely, and oh well why was Touya going out in the first place, when everyone has told him to stop and he knows his mom will get punished for it?

Honestly, I can understand where some people have mixed feelings over Rei’s character, particularly since the writing has done her such a disservice recently. With that being said, however, it takes a minimum amount of critical thinking to recognize that while you can criticize some choices she made, you cannot hold her to the same standard of accountability as Enji, it’s absurd. The power imbalance was obviously tipped in Endvr’s favor, always.

It is a shame, too, that we can’t have more discussions that don’t turn into some readers (a lot of whom are attempting to make Endvr sound less horrible than he actually was) trying to demonize her. It’s doubly a shame the story itself doesn’t bother to flesh her out as a person, instead using her as a prop, because the complex relationships she has with Touya -- with all her children, really -- has plenty of room for exploration. 

Like, there was no reason to add this new dimension of resentment due to her spouting Enji’s words back at Touya, when there was already a source of tension supported by previous canon -- the neglect the Todoroki kids suffered because Rei couldn’t be the parent they needed, due to her declining mental health and eventual breakdown.

Or, if you want to complicate their dynamic further, why not add something that focuses on Rei and has nothing to do with Enji? We learn in the flashbacks that Rei agreed to the marriage more-or-less to please her family, lamenting that she “intended to smile through it to the end,” essentially admitting that her hope was she could grin and bear it. It is telling that she had this attitude before entering her marriage; evidently, she was raised with the idea that she should be acquiescent to her parents’ whims and not express herself if she was only going to be contrary. Maybe she didn’t know how to deal with Touya’s very expressive, very emotional outbursts as a result. And her inability to respond would be the exact opposite of what Touya was seeking.

Not to mention that Touya died, and for the last decade, Rei was under the impression she had lost her son forever. He died while she was hospitalized, torn up with guilt over what she did to Shouto, only to find out that her other son died in a frankly horrific manner, and she could do nothing. By the time she would’ve found out, it was too late to even try to do anything. I can’t imagine what she must’ve felt in terms of regret alone, plus her grief. And I’m still mad we were robbed of her reaction to Touya being alive, because now suddenly there is a chance to do something, to change what was once written in stone.

Or what about Touya’s feelings for his mother, that have yet to be given much depth? As the oldest and most aware of his existence, it seems like he was the first to truly understand his mother’s situation and I can’t help but wonder: If Touya knew he vessel for his father’s ambition, and his mother was sold into role of creating/caring for him, did he question her love for him? Once he found out one parent’s love was conditional, it wouldn’t be a leap for him to consider it for the other. And yet if that’s true, Dabi doesn’t appear to hold any ill-will towards her for that. He was angry at her hypocrisy, because he knows she should understand, but her words to him didn’t reflect that.

All of that is fascinating and so much better than what we got in canon, so far at least. I’m hoping for them interact in the present at least once before the end of the series, and I think they will, but as to how satisfying a reconciliation it’ll be, I guess we’ll have to wait to see how the Todoroki plotline progresses from here on out.

[fencesandfrogs]

i think the point is, whether or not having to plan around your mom's emotions is bad in a particular scenario kind of depends on the consequences of not doing so.

if the consequences involve her removing access to some basic need, then it's bad because your mom is responsible for providing those and that responsibility should not be conditioned on your behavior.

so i think the crux of the issue, based on what little of the discussion i've seen, is that you do not believe "not getting yelled at for being irresponsible" is something you inherently deserve from your mom, while others around you do.

i also think a possible miscommunication could be happening here; afaik the issue is not "you being irresponsible" necessarily but "you have no memory of what happened to the previous money" which given you have documented memory problems, would pull into question whether yelling at you for that is fair or reasonable.

so when you say "my mom yelling at me for being irresponsible doesn't stop my needs from being met" and others say "your mom yelling at you for being irresponsible is not meeting your needs"

they're maybe actually saying "your mom yelling at you for symptoms of mental illness is not meeting your needs"

so like. idk your life well enough to judge. but i think the question is a) is it irresponsibility or Symptoms (or both)? and b) does yelling at you for symptoms (esp if they're outside your control) count as not meeting your needs?

(also idk if you are counting emotional needs in this discussion. but. as someone who didn't for a really long time and then learned i have neglect-related trauma, it might be worth considering if you're not)

anon i cannot thank you enough for this ask because i've been so confused about this discussion. i was joking with my friends, like, i've seen people have this moment on tumblr before, and i've always been sympathetic, but always like...here hold on screenshot

[transcript: me watching [redacted] do this: i see that you're legitimately confused but i don't know how anyone could break it down any clearer.

me doing this: what the fuck are people saying to me /end transcript]

and now i'm like. "you are all explaining things to me clearly with good words and i should be able to understand them, but i can't."

urgh my hands are cold i know you will experience no time gap but i have to do dishes so i will.

the crux of the issue ... is that you do not believe "not getting yelled at for being irresponsible" is something you inherently deserve from your mom

yeah, pretty much? not that. urgh i'll feel guilty if i don't bring this up but my mom doesn't yell so much as. make you feel like you got yelled at without raising her voice. i've been saying "yell" because there's no short way of saying what she does, and the emotional impact is the same. (source: i've been thru both)

okay that guilt avoided.

anyway yeah, you summed that up pretty well. like...the need is still met if she yells at me. i don't have some inherent right to not get yelled at. she feeds me. that's the need. closed loop.

the issue is not "you being irresponsible" necessarily but "you have no memory of what happened to the previous money"

i don't think i have much to say this was just. an angle i hadn't looked at it from before? i think i've been rly focused on my mom and i know that she doesn't rly care about that kind of thing? she didn't care abt it when i was a kid at least. whenever i complained abt my memory she told me not to make excuses. so like.

i dunno. i feel like it's still irresponsible of me? i doubt i spent it on anything essential. i know when i spent money on some fun stuff i specifically texted my mom and asked her to pull from my savings for that, because i was spending on fun stuff. so like. even if i don't remember it, it's still the same problem?

hm. this whole post will get the commentary welcome tag but i'm specifically saying if people have thoughts on this i'd like to hear them.

they're maybe actually saying "your mom yelling at you for symptoms of mental illness is not meeting your needs"

hm.

urgh i feel all turbulent and weird about this. it's like i know i've said all different things about this? to everyone. to my therapist and my friends and on this blog.

i don't.

sorry i'm feeling really staticky.

okay took a little break because my brain was getting soupy. i think you're right about this, although...i dunno. ig intellectually i get why they're upset, but it feels hard to be upset about it. for whatever reason, i can't apply the rules i'd apply to other people to myself. i don't know why. that's just...how things are.

a) is it irresponsibility or Symptoms (or both)? and b) does yelling at you for symptoms (esp if they're outside your control) count as not meeting your needs?

things to talk about with my therapist, presumably. i'm certainly not finding answers to this all tonight. mostly putting this here to highlight it for later.

idk if you are counting emotional needs in this discussion

honestly i don't even know.

i don't really see all of this as a "basic" need. like, if i accept the premise as true, that she isn't supposed to be like this, i still don't think this is about basic needs. i have food, water, and shelter. i'm getting an education. i have healthcare. idk what my list of basic needs would be, but this whole deal wouldn't be on them.

sigh.

i kinda wanna cry and call my mom about this but i can't call her about her :(

[symphonicmetal101]

Brother Bonding(?) HCs

^^

Lucifer

Mammon

He and Mammon have a bit of a complicated relationship, in that Mammon is always getting into trouble, and Lucifer always has to get him out of it, and then takes it upon himself to scold him for getting them into trouble. However, there are times when Lucifer helps Mammon pull pranks on the other brothers, under the condition that Mammon doesn't tell anyone, otherwise he loses Goldie permanently. The pranks are well executed, and often the blame is but on Belphie or Satan instead.

Levi

We know that Lucifer is responsible for Levi's obsession with Ruri-chan and anime as a whole. Lucifer is often concerned for Levi, as he is familiar with self-doubt, and sympathizes with Levi's constant stream of it. He tries to set aside at least one day a month where he will rewatch old anime with Levi, listen to his spiels, and leave him an allowance to use however he would like. If Lucifer is too busy with paperwork, he'll invite Levi to his office and ask him about the latest games and mangas, even if he isn't listening the entire time.

Satan

Ah, this is a little more complicated. Truthfully, they don't spend much time together. However, if Satan happens to mention a book he wanted, even offhandedly, Lucifer will make sure it ends up in Satan's possession somehow, even if it's through MC. Satan notices this, and as much as he wants to hate Lucifer, those days he makes an extra effort to try and not tease or humiliate Lucifer. It's almost like a silent truce.

Asmo

Yeah, yeah, Asmo paints everyone's nails. But Asmo also knows massage and aromatherapy. When Lucifer is particularly stressed, he'll take it upon himself to try and help him relax. If he has the patience, Lucifer will listen to Asmo explain the science between different scents and how they help the mind and body. Sometimes Asmo isn't sure if Lucifer is actually listens, but within three days of their chats, he finds a small package on his bed with different oils, and a note that says, "I look forward to learning what these oils can do." - Lucifer

Beel

Beel likes to cook, bake, etc. Because Lucifer is always on the go, Beel tries to come up with meals that are easy to walk around with. Lucifer is always the one Beel asks to taste test, (if Beel manages to resist eating the entire thing himself), because Lucifer will give him an honest opinion. It's rare that Lucifer has anything but praise for Beel, but on the off chance he doesn't, he'll walk him through a couple of ideas he could do to improve it, and Beel will deliver.

Note: this is also how Beel found out that Lucifer has the lowest spice tolerance out of the brothers, and he is not to mention it to anyone.

Belphie

Another relationship that serves to be more complex. Lucifer often finds himself wanting to reconcile with Belphie, almost to restore the kind of relationship they had when they were angels. But when you lock someone in an attic against their will, (even if it was to protect them), they tend to hold a grudge. Again, they don't really spend time together unless Beel is present, but Lucifer tries to help Belphie in little ways, like switching his linens weekly, fluffing his pillows, making sure he actually makes it to a bed when he goes to sleep. Belphie just assumes it's Beel doing these things though, and Lucifer lets him. He hopes one day Belphie will realize how much he really does care for him.

Mammon

Levi

They usually don't get along, mostly because of financial issues between them. However, when they are able to put that aside, they can actually enjoy each others company. Mammon has a lot of energy, and Levi likes video games. As a compromise, they regularly play games such as DDR or Just Dance. The whole time, they will insult each other, but lovingly.

Satan

Satan will actively look for books on finance, budgeting, business, etc. To help Mammon. He pitches it as ways to help him get rich, and they will spend hours together trying to form a business plan. While Mammon doesn't usually have the patience, for the sake of spending time with his little brother, he pushes through. Satan usually does this only after one of Mammon's bigger schemes fell through, or when Lucifer tells Mammon to stop.

Asmo

These guys both model. Mammon will set aside some money and time to go spend with Asmo on clothes, accessories, etc. Mammon is just as skilled behind the camera as he is in front of it, so whenever Asmo wants to model, doesn't matter where, Mammon is ready. Sometimes when they've planned their outing with enough notice, Mammon will have saved enough money to buy something for Asmo.

Beel

Whenever Beel is cooking for himself, he usually adds a lot seasonings. Sometimes, it's in hopes that spice will slow him down. Other times it's because he really likes the food, but has almost become desensitized to the taste😥 however, when he makes these batches of food, he'll sometimes invite Mammon to join him. Mammon has an ungodly high tolerance for spice, at least when he's eating. (His stomach may or may not suffer later). Mammon sometimes foolishly challenges Beel to a speed eating contest. Beel tries to decline; he just wants to eat, and he does not want to watch Mammon give himself indigestion or heartburn, but Mammon, persistent as ever, will try and eat as many servings of Beel's food as quickly as possible. This is one of the few times Beel doesn't get mad, he just watches with mild amusemeny and concern.

Belphie

Belphie and Mammon are surprisingly close, despite being complete foils of eacb other. Mammon has lots of energy, Belphie has none. Mammon likes to go out, Belphie likes to stay in. However, building forts? Hell yes, Belphie has enough energy for that. They usually build pillow and blanket forts in the observatory. Belphie will direct Mammon in how to build it for the most amount of comfort. Usually they'll just end up plugging in their headphones and listening to their own music in each other's company until they fall asleep and/or Beel joins them.

Levi

Satan

Levi introduced Satan to VR, and their relationship has taken a turn for the better since then. Satan is more interested in medical simulators and animal simulation games. Levi once made the mistake of playing Mario Kart with Satan, and his room was left in shambles, so now they only do sims to avoid the competition with other players. Satan also likes to play Among Us, as it gives him a chance to flex his detective skills. His self-control is much better with this, for whatever reason.

Asmo

Levi and Asmo are constantly at odds. Not like Mammon, but Asmo cringes every time he sees the way Levi is sitting, every time he hears Levi has ruined his sleep schedule, and every time he sees him sleeping in tje goddamn bathtub. Yes, it has lots of pillows, but none of them are really good for support. He is constantly trying to get Levi to at least stretch or do yoga every once in a while, as well as sit properly in his chair. These stretching session are also when Levi starts to talk about the next cosplay he's working on, which Asmo will undoubtedly want to help with.

(Ik that its implied that Levi taught Asmo how to sew and stuff, but that hc is everywhere, otherwise I would elaborate. It's really cute though.)

Beel

Although Levi spends a lot of his time in his room, he is still the Grand Admiral of Hell's Navy. He does dedicate some time to working out, and when he does, he does it with Beel, because he knows Beel will help keep him on track. Beel is also Levi's biggest source of encouragment. Levi thanks Beel in mass quantities of food from Akuzon later, sometimes in hopes of winning something from a draw, other times as a genuine thank you.

Belphie

Introvert buddies! Belphie doesn't really care for video games, Levi doesn't have the same speed as Mammon for building a pillow fort, but sometimes Belphie will ask to come into Levi's room to look at his aquarium. He finds it relaxing. They don't really talk to each other, they just enjoy each other's company. If Belphie is feeling curious or notices Levi is kind of upset, he'll start asking Levi about the different fish in his aquarium, which quickly cheers Levi up. Belphie's favourite thing about Levi though, is that he is usually awake the same time he is, helping him feel a little less lonely.

Satan

Asmo

I've mentioned this before in my random hcs post, but Asmo and Satan like to study astrology together. They find it fascinating in how accurate it can be, especially since they only get to see the *real* stars, moon, sun, and planets when they're in the human realm. Asmo actually introduced it to Satan, as he used to study it in the Celestial Realm as well.

Beel

Beel is constantly coming up with new recipes, so Satan documents them all for him. He'll be a scribe, while Beel tells him exactly what he's doing the whole time. The other brothers don't know, (Beel asked to keep t a secret), but Satan has helped Beel publish 3 cookbooks already.

Satan also attends Beel's games whenever possible, and Beel has attended Satan's debate team or sometimes book club meetings whenever possible. Because Satan and Belphie are close, so are Satan and Beel.

Belphie

>:)

They are constantly coming up with ways to inconvenience Lucifer, which is their main form of bonding. However, Belphie also taught Satan the constellations when they were younger, so now they will often go stargazing together. Satan doesn't remember, but he used to make up stories about the constellations, and Belphie has a written record of all of them. Sometimes, Belphie will retell the stories from memory to see if Satan recognizes it, but to no avail. Instead Satan will tell another story he has read about the stars. They tell each other stories and stargaze until they fall asleep.

Asmo

Beel

Beel will do warm ups with Asmo; basic stretches, a jog, etc. They will sometimes do yoga together. However, Beel works out a lot, and sometimes his muscles get sore, so Asmo gets to work. Being around Asmo brings out the gossip girl in Beel, so while Asmo is giving him a massage, he's also getting all the tea from all the clubs that Beel is a part of. Beel is very careful with his delivery, but he trusts Asmo to never spin his words the wrong way and to use the new info for good.

Belphie

Asmo has his own fashion line. He often asks Belphie to rate the comfort of his clothes, as he wants them to be fashionable, functional, and comfortable. Belphie never pulls his punches, and Asmo is grateful for the honest criticism. However, sometimes it does get on his nerves, but Belphie makes up for it later by getting Asmo new linens, often silk, because Belphie knows Asmo's preferences. Asmo always asks him where he finds it, but Belphie never answers.

Beel + Belphie

These two can bond almost over anything. However, one of their favorite things to do together is make Quetzalcoatl brain soup. Belphie stays awake long enough to remind Beel to leave some for him.

(My brain just left me here to rot apparently, I'm sorry.)

Oof

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[carrotmakar]

The View From Both Sides of The Mirror

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Word Count: 23.5k

Summary: Who would have thought that being stuck on a boat with your worst enemy would be a good thing?

Warning(s): Cursing, some mentions of yachtrry, Harry being a softie, Harry also being a dick, reader being down on herself

A/N: So this is my submission for @stylesharrys​ 10k follower celebration! I chose the picture above, the trope enemies to lovers, prompt “That’s not what I meant, I swear. I know I can be an asshole but I'm not that heartless.”  I’ve been working on this for quite a while and I really debated deleting the entire thing a few times, but here she is, all finished and ready to be enjoyed!!

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As always, if you enjoy this piece, reblog to share with your friends :))

*

Harry Styles is a lot of things. Annoying, over the top, self obsessed, judgmental, self indulgent, careless, overly flamboyant, rude, narcissistic. He’s a lot of things, but perfect is not one of them.

The media continuously had a lot of ridiculous ideas about him, most of which were laughable. You’d often scroll through your social media and snort at the things that people would post about him. You had seen some things that were quite funny, but nothing compared to the article that your best friend, Lexi, had shown you. You full body cackled after reading the title, and who could blame you? “The Perfect Man the World Didn’t Know It Was Missing” was top tier comedy.

There were a plethora of things wrong with the title that the up and coming news station had so foolishly chosen.

The most obvious of which being the fact that he was literally 26, and he’s been in the spotlight for over ten years. The world hadn’t been missing him at all. He’s been shoved in everyone’s face for over a decade and they find a new reason to act like he’s the best thing that ever happened to the universe. They over exaggerate everything, make it seem like he was either born an hour ago or just discovered yesterday. Which was definitely not the case, as you had been told numerous times by the man himself. 

The second being that they all acted like they knew him when really they had absolutely no idea who he is. The ones that covered the stories acted like they knew him as well as his childhood best friend when really they had taken a statement, at most. They had no clue who he actually was. They couldn’t tell you his favorite number, or how he fixes his toast. They don’t know the reason why he no longer wears skinny jeans. They don’t know why he’s so open with who he is and how he presents himself. None of them know anything about any of that, and it’s more bothersome than you’d like to admit. But it’s not just the people that praise him that rub you the wrong way. No, it’s even the ones that say bad things about him, that claim that he’s Satan's spawn. It was still exasperating to hear them say things about him. They acted like they knew him well enough to hate him, to paint him as the villain in their article.

Yeah, sure, you and Harry didn’t get along, but at least you had a reason. Most of the people that didn’t like him were just upset because basically everyone wanted something to do with him, and they were all mad because he was seemingly perfect. He never lost his temper (he definitely did, just not in public), he was nice to everyone (yeah, besides you), and he would never turn down a picture with a fan if it was safe to do so and he had time (that one was true. The one part of him that you don’t absolutely hate is the love that he has for his fans. He’d be nowhere without them, and he realizes that. And, although he’s not appreciative of a lot of things, he is of them).

And the final thing about the article, the one that irked your nerves the most, was that they were yet another news group to paint the picture that he was perfect, that he was the golden boy. That he had never once done something that could be seen as wrong. Which, yet again, goes to show that they don’t really know anything about him, at least not personally.

Sure, Harry Styles came off as perfect. He had to. He’s in the public eye, spotted everywhere that he goes by at least one person. He had been coached from the ripe old age of 16 to come across in that way. In his career, there has never been any room for error. One mistake could have brought down everything that the managers of One Direction were trying to accomplish.

He was conditioned into media perfection long ago. He had been told how to speak, how to act, what to wear, what to sing. Anything that could possibly cause an upset in the fandom was immediately changed, edited to make it look better. He was shaped into the boy that the world had come to love. 

But Harry, the guy that you spent the majority of your waking hours with, due to the numerous mutual friends that you had, was annoying at best. Most of the time, though, he was a complete prick.

There was nothing about the man he was behind closed doors that was perfect. He was utterly and completely himself. Most people would think that’s a good thing, him being comfortable enough to himself to the fullest extent. But you? You absolutely hated those times. He was much easier to deal with when you were out in public, when he was too worried about keeping up appearances to do anything particularly shitty. 

The two of you had never gotten along. From the very moment that the two of you had met, there was a tension. It was like there was an immediate distaste for one another. All of your friends could tell that the two of you would never get along, but they tried to force it anyway.

That night, he had seemed completely uninterested, like he’d rather be at some party that only had A-List celebrities on the guest list than there meeting you. At first, you had been hurt. But then you came to accept it. Came to accept the fact that you just weren’t good enough for him. You weren’t like the rest of your friends. All you did was work in photography, and you weren’t even one of the well off photographers. Sure, you didn’t struggle, but you weren’t on the same level as the rest of the people that you had formed friendships with.

Your mutual friends had tried their best to ease the tension between the two of you. They had done everything in their power to force the friendship. You had to give them props, they pulled all the stops, but there was nothing that anyone could do that would make you not loathe the mere thought of him. Maybe it was the fact that he made you doubt who you were. Maybe it was the fact that he gave off the asshole vibe. Or maybe, it was just because he seemed to not like you, but from that day forward, you weren’t on good terms with him.

Things had gotten so bad with Harry that you had even tried to find a new group of friends. You were tired of feeling like you were the odd man out, feeling like you had ruined every outing because you couldn’t just suck it up and get along with him. There had come a time when you didn’t even feel like you had belonged. All of the people that you had surrounded yourself with were extremely successful. Most of them were CEOs of something. But when Harry had met them, he had introduced the singers, writers, and musicians into the group. You weren’t any of those things. Sure, a lot of people saw you as an artist, but you could barely be seen as anything compared to the others, and that haunted you until you began to believe that your occupation as a photographer wasn’t valid.

So, you searched for new friends. You tried to find people that would make you feel like you belonged, like you were their equal. You just wanted some people that you could relate to. You hadn’t felt that in way too long, and being around Harry and his super successful, extremely famous friends wasn’t helping any.

You tried for a few weeks before realizing that it was pointless. He found a way to weasel himself into that aspect of your life as well. 

Every single time you met someone new, the same thing happened. You’d talk to them for a few minutes, get to know each other a little. But each time, without fail, they’d ask “Hey, aren’t you that chick that’s friends with Harry Styles?” And each time, you’d immediately walk away, never looking back.

Nobody cared about making friends with you, they just wanted to have a way to Harry. Every cell in your body was filled with regret. You had made the decision to openly be in the same friend group as him. You hadn’t taken into consideration that once you were spotted with him repeatedly, your life would never be the same.

It left you wanting to rip your hair out. Or at least go back in time so that you never had to meet him, never had to be in public with him. It sucked that no matter how hard you tried, he wouldn’t stay out of your life. He was present even when he physically wasn’t, and it was aggravating beyond belief.

It was safe to say that you hate Harry Styles.

It was also safe to say that Harry Styles hates you.

You were so uptight, always sticking up your nose at everything that he did. You had done it since the moment that you had met him and it seemed as if you had never stopped.

You had given him a look that could only be described as one filled with disdain the moment that you met him, and from that moment on he had tried his best to distance himself from you. With the both of you running in the same circle, though, that was pretty hard.

So, he had just tried his best to ignore you. That didn’t work very well either, seeing as you always had a reaction to everything that he did. And none of those reactions were ever positive.

You acted like there was something wrong with him spending the money that he earned. It got on his nerves more than just about anything. What was he supposed to do with it? Was he just supposed to let it sit in his bank account for the rest of his life? He donates a large chunk of everything that he earns every year, it wasn’t like he was just blowing his money on meaningless things. He had his priorities straight.

He had come to despise nights out, knowing that you would be there. You always had something to say. Or not say, rather. You’d never tell him that it was exactly that made you so upset with him. Every time you would send him a look, he’d ask why, but you’d simply turn on your heel or slip out of the booth, heading to the dance floor to be as far away from him as possible.

He was a simple man, really. He just wanted to go out with his friends, buy something strong off the top shelf, and drink until he was in the cuddly mood that his mind automatically switched into when there was enough alcohol running through his veins.

But with you there? Oh, he couldn’t do that. God forbid he buys something expensive like that. God forbid that he spend his money on what he wanted to. Every time he’d order his drink, you’d curl your nose up, as if you were completely disgusted by his choice. And every time that he would get overly touchy and want to cuddle someone, he would automatically seek you out. He didn’t know why, and he despised his brain for thinking of no one else but you. 

He knew that the fact that he never chose someone else to agitate probably made you hate him even more than you already did, and he went home every weekend feeling awful about it. He never meant to annoy you. Sure, he hated you, couldn’t stand the way you acted like you were better than him, like you were higher up than him even though he saw the two  of you as equals, but he never meant to purposefully get on your nerves. He never went out of his way to cause you to hate him even more. 

However, that didn’t stop you from thinking that he did. Didn’t stop you from thinking that he’d do anything in his power to pester you. It didn’t stop you from hating him more and more every day.

*

When your friends had called you and told you that they wanted to go on vacation, you were excited. You could use a break, a bit of time to forget about all the stress and just relax on a boat with your friends. Plus, you had never been to Brighton, so there was no way you were going to say no to that experience.

However, the initial glory of the idea wore off the moment that you realize Harry’s the only one with any kind of boat. Which means in order to have the relaxing getaway that you want, you'll have to deal with him for at least a few hours every day, if not every moment that the sun is up. If you’re completely honest, you don’t even understand how he’s going to get the yacht to Brighton when it’s kept in the States. You didn’t question it, though, because that’s the reason that Lexi gave you. Which means that has to be the reason that he has to go.

To top it off, it won’t even be like it normally is. If he gets you worked up enough, you can’t even just walk away and leave, you’ll be stuck on his boat in the middle of a body of water, with no way to swim to land without risking something bad happening.

You had already paid the deposit for the house, but you were fully willing to let someone else take your place on the trip. Were fully willing to give up the vacation because there’s no way in the world that you could spend an entire week with Harry without something terrible happening. Plus, there was only room for four people and there were many more than just that in your friend group. They could easily find a replacement.

When you had called back to tell Lexi and Sam that you weren’t going to be attending, they all but guilt tripped you into coming along, saying that they had invited you for a reason and that they would be really bummed out if you decided to stay behind and give someone your spot.They also gave you the look, the one they always hit you with when you back out of something just because of Harry. 

You felt bad, always ruining plans because you were in a constant argument with him, so you tried to put your pride to the side for a moment and at least listen to what they had to say.

Against your better judgement, you agree to go, but only because you would have your own room with a private bathroom attached, and your friends confirmed that they wouldn't say anything about you hiding away from Harry if he got to be too much. They also assured you that you and Harry would be separated for the majority of the trip. 

They knew that the both of you need a vacation, but neither of you can stand the other, so they promised that you would have an adequate amount of alone time to have the relaxation that vacations are supposed to bring.

After doing your shoot that night, you go home and pack the suitcases you'll need for the week that the four of you plan on staying there. You don’t pack much, just a single suitcase and a carry on. You check to make sure that you have your passport and that it’s valid, and that you have all the items from around the house that you’ll need.

Once everything is settled and put together, you flop down on your bed, switching on a random Netflix show that you’d been obsessed with lately and allowing yourself to drift off to sleep..

*

You’ll never know how your friends had let them talk you into letting them plan the entire trip. The only thing that you were told was how much your portion of the bills were and when they were due. It has annoyed you to no end, seeing that you are the type of person that likes to know every detail of what’s  going on. You had been on more than enough trips that had absolutely everything that could go wrong do exactly that, leading to ruined trip after ruined trip, that you’d rather know all the plans, maybe even make a list or two so that there are no missteps or slip ups when it comes to the actual vacation.

You texted Lexi a few hours before you had to leave to board the flight to ask if you could scan over the plans and the details of the trip, not to change anything, just to double check. Of course, she said no immediately, not understanding that you just wanted to look over it and make sure that everything was in order to calm your nerves. You didn’t want to explain this to her, though, knowing that she would begin to feel guilty for not letting you see it immediately, and that’s not what you wanted to happen.

If you had talked to her and she had actually allowed you to check literally anything for the trip, though, the first thing you would have ensured was that you wouldn’t be stuck on a plane right next to Harry for hours. You’ll never understand how she could put you in this situation, making you sit next to the most loathsome person in this world, who she knows that you can’t even be in the same room as for more than a few hours.

By the time the situation registers in your mind, however, he’s already loaded his carry on and sat down in the seat. Which means that it's definitely too late to do anything about it. Yeah, you’d rather not sit next to him for hours on end, but you’re definitely not going to cause a scene on an airplane full of people. Especially not when half of them already have their phones out, trying to discreetly take pictures of Harry.

Besides, the flight attendant is already coming around checking belts and the pilot is introducing himself and spouting out information that seemingly no one is paying attention to. This flight will be over in no time. At least that’s what you tell yourself to get through the next ten hours.

You groan, rolling your eyes at the irony of the situation. Of course something like this would happen. You had only agreed to a vacation because you needed relaxation. You needed a break from all the stress. But here you were, stuck right next to one of the biggest stress inducers in your life. Yeah, Lexi had promised you that you’d have plenty of time away from Harry at the rental house, but you were definitely making up for all the time that would be lost right now.

If you didn’t know better, you would think that Lexi and Sam were plotting against you. But that’s crazy, right? They wouldn’t do something like this on purpose, would they?

You lightly shake your head, pushing the thought from your mind. They wouldn’t do that.

You pull out your phone, queuing up the playlists you had downloaded prior to boarding. You knew that you’d want to shut yourself off from the world for the duration of the trip there, so you prepared accordingly.

You take one final glance around the cabin, seeing that everyone else has begun settling in and nobody else is announcing something important. You slip your headphones in your ears, ready to relax as much as possible throughout the flight. You know that the only way to completely avoid being pestered by Harry is to completely block him out.

The first song that comes on makes you want to laugh. You obviously don’t do such a thing, knowing that the outburst would cause every single person on the plane to look at you like you’re crazy. 

You couldn’t catch a break today. Of course one of his songs would be playing in your ears while your face was less than a foot from his. Of course it would actually be one of your favorites. You had never once in your life pressed the skip button on this song, but knowing that he’s as close to you as he is, you’re hesitant to even listen to the opening chords of the song.

“Carolina” blared through your headphones for a split second before you made up your mind and hit skip. You couldn’t risk being caught by him. There’s no way you would survive this if he found out that you listened to his music, especially since you have it saved to your playlist. There’s no way that you’d be able to play that off as you simply listening to it so that you could make fun of him for it later (which you wouldn’t do in general, you know how important his music is for him, and you’d never dampen the light that appears in his eyes when he talks about it. You’re not that cruel.).

It was quite frustrating, really. His music is fantastic, a perfect blend of the basic attributes that hook audiences that hear songs on the radio and a uniqueness that you can’t find anywhere else. His music was absolutely amazing, but the man that sang it… he was a different story.

You didn’t like to judge his tracks based on how fond of him you were when you first heard them. If you did that, you’d never listen to them in general. 

You’d never admit it to him, but every song of his, even the covers, was scattered throughout your playlists. And every once in a while, when nobody was around, you would listen to them and genuinely enjoy them. Sometimes you’d even dance along, and that’s a secret that you’ll take to the grave.

You wanted to drift off to sleep, but didn’t want to risk him hearing if one of his songs came on. Lord knows that he doesn’t need the ego boost. So, you turned the volume down until you were confident that nobody else could hear it. You lean your head back against the rest and let your eyes slip shut, finding sleep in seconds.

*

What seems like moments later, you’re being awoken by someone. You think that maybe it’s Lexi at first, but then you feel them, the rings that he never seems to take off. You jerk your body away from him, not wanting his hands to be on you. 

“Hey, it’s time to wake up. We’ve landed.” You open your eyes and glare at him, taking your headphones out. You can tell that he’s holding in a laugh and it makes you want to punch him right in the jaw. You choose not to do such a thing, however, because you’d rather not cause a scene on an airplane. So, you settle for flipping him off.

He chuckles before mimicking your action. You roll your eyes, standing up from the seat and grabbing your carry on. Harry steps back, letting you walk ahead of him. You think nothing of it until he pushes at the back of your knee, almost making you fall to the ground. What is he? A middle schooler? 

You can already tell that this is going to be a long trip, regardless of what Lexi and Sam had assured you. So far, what they had said had turned out to mean absolutely nothing to you. Not for the first time since you woke up this morning, you find yourself wishing that you hadn’t given in. That you had just said no and not let them talk you into it.

You walk with a bit more speed after you step off of the airplane, trying to get as far away from him as possible. You don’t want to have to add falling over in the middle of the airport to the list of reasons why you despise flying. You had only agreed to get on the plane this time because it was absolutely necessary in getting to Brighton.

You meet up with Sam and Lexi by the luggage pick up and all of you wait for your bags. You put all your effort into ignoring Harry, only looking in his direction or humming an approval when the conversation called for it.

“Alright, well. We need to get to the car rental service and then I have to go rent the yacht.” Harry says, making you snap your head up, looking straight at him. After a second, you turn to Lexi and Sam, looking between the two.

“Oh, no, no, no. Tell me you’re fucking joking.” You spit. “Harry just had to come, huh? And you wouldn’t let me back out? Harry’s the only one with a yacht? Yeah, he’s the only one with a yacht but he’s fucking renting one.” You can’t believe this. “Look, if I had known that me being stuck in a foreign country with him wasn’t completely necessary, I would have given someone else this vacation in a heartbeat.”

“Y/N come on…” Sam starts, but you cut him off.

“What, Sam? Want me to hold my tongue yet again so I don’t hurt Harry’s feelings?” You scoff. Why did they care about his feelings when he had never once taken yours into consideration? “Well, you know what? Fuck Harry’s feelings. He’s rude to me for absolutely no goddamn reason and I’m tired of it. I wanted to come on this god forsaken trip so that I could relax. Both of you,” you point back and forth between Sam and Lexi, “promised me that I would get to relax, that I would only be around Harry on the boat. But it seems like your word is bullshit, doesn’t it?”

Your luggage rolls around and you yank it off the conveyor. “Let’s go get the stupid ass cars. And Harry?” You turn to him, pointing your finger at him and tapping his chest. You ignore the way that the contact sends shivers up and down your spine. “Don’t you dare fucking say a word to me on the way there. Don’t touch me, for any reason. You know what? Just don’t even look at me. That should make everything a little more bearable, got that?” 

He nods, and with that, you walk towards the exit of the airport, knowing that there was no way you could continue that argument without bursting into tears. You weren’t upset in that way, you just had the habit to start crying when you were pissed off at someone to this point. They had really lied to your face. You know Lexi though, she’ll use the fact that she ‘technically didn’t lie because Harry is the only one with a yacht.’ 

You wait outside, knowing that they have the address to the car rental place, and there’s no way that you want to get lost here. You don’t look at any of them once they come out the doors, and they don’t make any effort to talk to you. 

The entire walk to the shop, you stay a few feet behind them, not wanting to be too close to any of them. It’s not even so much so that you were mad anymore, that had subsided. You were hurt. The fact that they lied to you? That was something that all of you had promised to never do to one another, even you and Harry. And what hurt even worse was the fact that the people that did lie to you weren’t who you expected to ever lie to you. If anyone was going to do something like that, you expected that it would have been Harry that did it, not them. It probably wouldn’t have hurt as much if it had been Harry, but only because you had mentally prepared yourself for him to betray you, had kept your walls up against him since the moment that he showed you who he was around you.

The walk to the rental store was a short one, leaving you barely any time alone with your thoughts, which you were completely fine with. You didn’t really want to be in your head right now.

Lexi walks in, leaving the three of you outside. She comes out a moment later with two sets of keys. “Alright, who’s riding with who?”

“I’ll ride with Sam, give Y/N some time away from me.” If he hadn’t said it with the hint of sarcasm that he did, his words could have been mistaken for sweetness. But you know how he is. He makes everyone else think that he’s such a sweetheart when really he’s a prick.

*

The house is nice. Really nice, actually. The moment you walk in, you’re met with the high ceilings of the entryway. You must admit that Lexi and Sam did a great job on picking the house that you’d be staying in for the week. You walk through the entryway and see a kitchen off to the side, it’s really modern, looks like it was just redone. There’s a sitting room directly adjacent to where you’re standing. And you can see multiple doors and a hallway that leads to other rooms, which you assume are bedrooms and the half bath that would be used for guests.

You immediately go to pick a room, knowing that nobody else really plans on being in their rooms at all, so it’s not like they’ll mind. You venture down the hallway and see a few art pieces. You smile to yourself. The house is really cute. You wouldn’t mind living somewhere like this when you find someone and settle down.

You look through all the rooms before choosing the one at the very end of the hallway. There’s a large four poster bed sitting in the middle of the room. There’s a bookshelf to the right of the bed and a nightstand with a cute little lamp on it to the left. Upon walking further into the room and scanning the entirety of it, you see that there’s a dresser against the wall opposite the bed. There’s a tv sat upon the dresser. To the right of that, there’s a door that leads to the bathroom.

Even if Harry does get on your nerves during this trip, you can always come in here and escape from it all. You smile at the thought. That was truly the first thing that had been seen as a positive since you had left your house that morning. 

Since it was already pretty late, you decided to hop in the shower. Grabbing your clothes for the night and walking into the bathroom. As soon as the door is closed, you begin peeling off your clothes. Just doing that puts you in a better mood, you had been wearing those clothes for far too long. They probably didn’t smell the best, having sat on your body for an entire plane ride.

You fiddle with the temperature settings on the shower for a moment before stepping in. The moment that the hot water hits your skin, you let out a sigh of relief. You can feel the muscles that had tensed up throughout the day start to relax.

After spending what feels like an adequate amount of time in the shower, you towel off and get dressed, making your way to the bed. You crawl under the plush comforter and immediately feel the exhaustion rack your body. You turn off the lamp and roll onto your stomach, letting sleep pull you into the blissful state where nothing bothers you

*

Lexi busted into your room early the next morning, shaking you awake until you turned to face her.

“Do you need Sam and me to get you anything from the store?” She chirped, far too giddy for any normal person to be this early in the morning.

That makes sense, though, because Lexi is far from normal. She has this electric personality, usually bringing out the absolute best in everybody.

She has been your best friend since high school. She took you under her wing during your sophomore year, her junior year.

Since then, you have been through a lot together. Crushes, relationships, heartbreaks, you and her yelling at the guy or girl that broke the other’s heart. You helped each other pick up the pieces when nobody else was there to help do so.

You had been through dozens of friendships since sophomore year, but the only one that has been a constant is her.

Sure, the both of you had changed. But you had changed together and supported one another through every decision.

You had seen her cycle through different haircuts - she had chopped off her brown curls during her senior year and instantly hated them, choosing to let them grow back out to their rightful place, right below her shoulders - and hair colors - when she cut her hair, she also dyed it a bright red, which you’re still convinced is the real reason she hated the length of it as well. You had also experienced her ever changing sense of style, which was actually a plus for you most times, because when she changed her taste and cleaned out her closet, she’d give you all of the clothes that no longer satisfied her, leaving you with a new wardrobe at least once a year.

And she had been there for you too, sticking with you through your ‘whore phase.’ Which really just consisted of you dating the ‘hottest guy in school’ - he wasn’t really that hot - and then rumors spread the next year that you were messing around with the ‘hottest girl in school’ - that one was the one that got you the label, all the guys being mad that they couldn’t get with her, seeing as she was strictly into girls. 

Lexi had also dealt with your late night calls, riddled with anxiety, not knowing what it is that you could possibly do with your future. She had calmed you down multiple times, talking through options with you. She was the reason that you came to realize that you wanted to be in the fashion industry in some way. 

She had already known what she wanted to do, had been aware of her dreams since before she even made it into high school. She used to tell you all the time, “Y/N, one of these days, I’m going to own a Fortune 500 company.” And that’s exactly what she had done. 

Which is the only reason that you got to be friends with all the people that you do. She’s also the one who introduced you to Harry, starting the rivalry between the two of you.

“No, I’m fine.” You groaned, rolling back over.

“Alright, sleepy head.” She chuckled, walking back out of your room and latching the door.

Once she’s gone, you reach over and grab your phone, checking the time. Seven A.M. You groan. Was she crazy? 

You’re definitely not pleased that you’re up this early. However, you decided to go ahead and stay up. Your alarm would be going off in two hours, and you know that you’ll be grumpy if you go back to sleep just to wake up then.

You pull yourself out of bed, trudging to the bathroom. You run through all the steps of your morning routine and emerge from the bathroom, ready to take on the day.

Your way of taking on the day is going to be picking a book from the bookshelf and laying in bed until around ten, when you’re scheduled to go out to the water for the day.

*

It’s almost ten when you get the text from Sam.

We’re running late, you and H go ahead and get on the water, we’ll rent jet skis to get out there. X

You roll your eyes, of course they’d be late. And of course they’d leave you to fend for yourself with Harry.

You quickly get dressed in your dark blue bikini, the one that accentuates all your curves perfectly. You then throw an oversized band tee over your head, making sure that you’re covered enough before walking out and making sure that Harry's ready and has everything that he’ll need for the day. You’re really not in the mood to have him forget something and have to come all the way back to the house.

When you reach the living room, he’s already by the door, dressed in a pair of yellow swimming trunks and a cream colored tee. He has the yacht keys in hand, along with his phone. He already has the cooler and the bag Lexi had packed with supplies for the day (sunscreen, portable chargers, etc.). 

You just stand there for a moment, looking him over, trying to ignore the feeling that you got in your stomach. You couldn’t place exactly what it was, but it had to be one of disgust, right? You couldn’t stand being around him, he was unnecessarily rude to you and you can’t tolerate him. That feeling couldn’t be anything good, it had to be disgust, or maybe it was resentment. Either way, it stopped you in your tracks.

“You coming or what, loser? It’s enough that it’s just us, do I need to hold your hand too?” He smirks.

You push down the rising feeling in your chest, and push past him, walking over to the passenger side of the suv that he had rented for the week. 

He takes his sweet time strolling over, popping the trunk and placing the bag and cooler in before slamming it shut again. He unlocks the doors and you slide in, buckling your seat. You refuse to look at him, knowing that if you make eye contact with him, he’ll be more inclined to say something dickish to you.

The ride to the water is mostly quiet, the only sound in the car being the music from the radio. Some top 40s song that you haven't heard yet was filling the air, causing the silence between you and Harry to be slightly less awkward. 

“What’re you gonna do when we get there?” He asks. You’re taken aback for a moment. Why was he even talking to you, let alone asking what your plans were for the day? Why was he being weird? “Because, honestly, you should probably tan, you look like a ghost.” There it is, the snide remark that was missing.

You scoff. “Harry, maybe don’t check me out every two seconds and you won’t notice.” You joke, knowing that he’s the last person on the planet that would ever check you out.

You expect him to hurl an insult back at you, tell you that he’d never check out someone as ugly as you, or tell you that he was only scanning to see what he could make fun of, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t say a word, and when you turn to him, you see that the tips of his ears are red and there’s a blush creeping up his neck. Was it really that embarrassing to be accused of checking you out? 

You don’t push him, thankful for the returning silence. It only takes a few more moments to get to the docks anyway, so it’s not like the silence is stretched out for too long.

You grab the cooler and the bag this time, knowing that he’ll have to drive the yacht, and you don’t feel like hearing about how lazy you are because you didn’t do enough.

The walk to the boat is silent and filled with tension. It’s like both of you want to say something, are dying to talk to the other, but you won’t. You don’t want to talk to him, you just want to talk to someone. It’s not the same. 

Once Harry gets everything ready, you climb onto the boat, setting everything down and pulling out the sunglasses that you had decided to bring at the last moment.

“So, where do you think we should go?” You ask, knowing that he’s been here before. He’ll know how far out you can go while still being able to anchor the yacht.

“Out on the water, duh.” His words are laced with sarcasm and it makes you want to throw him overboard. Too bad he’s the only person on this vacation that’s ever had enough down time to actually learn how to handle one of these things.

“You know what the fuck I meant, stop being an idiot.” You spit, hating how easily he got a rise out of you.

He chuckles before waving you off with a, “I know what I’m doing, darling, don’t worry about it.” 

He seems to catch what he says as soon as it slips out of his mouth, his eyes widening and the blush coming back to his features. You choose to ignore it. You’d rather just go up to the deck and tan.

For a split second, you debate on whether or not you should lay out, knowing that he would think you were doing it because of the comment that he made. But then you realize that you don’t actually give a fuck about what he has to say or what he thinks with his final two brain cells. 

So, you head up to the upper deck, stripping yourself of your shirt and laying out a towel for you to rest on.

You stay in that position, only moving to flip over so that each side gets an even amount of sun, until you hear jet skis approaching.

You push yourself up, wandering down to where Harry has set up his towel. Apparently he decided to sunbathe as well. It’s not like he needed it though, he has a tan that any woman would absolutely die for. 

You quickly give him a once over, halting when you realize that he’s put a stupid hat on his head. And not even just that, he has it on backwards. What was he trying to do, absolutely kill you? 

Here’s the thing, you hate Harry, sure. But you aren’t blind. You can see how attractive he is, how his tattoos run over his tanned skin, making you want to trace each detail with the tip of your finger, or more honestly, your tongue. His muscles always accentuate everything that he wears, regardless of whether it’s one of the custom Gucci suits or a random Nike tank that he threw on to go on a run. His face is damn near perfect, so much so that it makes you want to throw up. His cheekbones are high, jawline sharp. He was blessed with the dimples, which are only made even better by his eye crinkles. And God, his hands. His hands that are constantly adorned with rings, all of which could probably pay your rent for at least a year.

It’s really not fair. In all honesty, him being as completely flawless his physical attributes seem to be is absolutely not fair. You used to scoff at the fact that people were blessed with good looks. It was all genes, right? Wrong. Sure, Anne’s gorgeous and you’re sure that Desmond had to have had something going for him when Anne met him, but Harry? He came out to be a whole lot more attractive than anyone you had ever seen. And just to add on to everything, he was the person that you hated the most in the world.

You’re broken out of your thoughts by Lexi pulling up to the side of the boat and climbing in. She doesn’t even look at you, just walks farther into the yacht. You don’t think to question her, she’s probably annoyed by something that Sam said. But then you notice that Sam isn’t getting off his jet ski, does he plan on just not taking his shirt off the entire time?

Lexi comes bounding back to where you and Harry are standing, but she again doesn’t stop. She just keeps walking, clambering back onto her abandoned vehicle. You’re confused for a second, what’s going on? But then you see them, the keys dangling in her fist. You’d know those keys anywhere. They were put on Harry’s keychain the moment that he had picked them up. She has the yacht keys.

Before you can say anything about it, she’s driving off, yelling, “Have fun!” into the wind.

“They did not just-” You start, only to be cut off by Harry. Usually, you’d be annoyed by him, but this time, you have another source of irritation.

“Yeah, they just pulled an Outer Banks on us.” He sighs, walking back to where he had originally been laying. 

“Are you not mad?” You try to stop your eyes from tracing the expanse of his back, but it seems to be impossible.  The way that his muscles are flexing under the expanse of skin drawing you in.

“No, are you?” He sounds like he couldn’t care less, which is odd. Shouldn’t he be upset that he’s forced to spend an entire day alone with the person that he hates?

“Um, yeah.” You groan. Of course you’re mad, you don’t want to be here. How can he seem so calm?

“Why are you so fucking uptight all the time?” He blurts, catching you off guard. The words hit you like a train, knocking all the air out of your lungs. So this is why he hated you. You just thought that you gave him the wrong vibes or something, he seemed like the kind of person to judge based on that type of thing.

“What do you mean?” He looks over at you and rolls his eyes.

“I mean, why are you so uptight all the time?” For some reason, your chest tightens up and you feel like you’re going to cry. You’d known that he couldn’t stand you, that he’d rather not be around you, but hearing the real reason? Hearing what he really hates about you? That fucking hurts.

“Is that why you hate me?” At most, you had thought that maybe he just looked down on you, thought that you weren’t good enough to be part of the friend group because you didn’t own a fortune 500 company, or sell houses for the richest people in America, or sing to thousands upon thousands of adoring fans. But apparently not. Apparently he had an actual, legitimate reason, and for some reason, that stings.

“I don’t hate you.” You scoff and roll your eyes at him. Did he really think you’d believe that? “I just think that you’re uptight and you get on my last nerve.” 

“You hate me, Harry. Don’t try to lie about it.” He can say what he wants, but people that don’t hate you don’t act the way that he does.

“I don’t hate you, I just strongly dislike you.” This makes you snicker. He’s such an idiot sometimes.

“That’s literally just you saying that you hate me with a different word choice.” He looks over at you, and you see the little tufts of curls sticking out from the side of his hat. The sight makes your chest ache, why does he have to be so fucking cute? Why couldn’t you be blessed with an ugly enemy?

“Whatever.” He sighs, brushing the conversation to the side.

You want to continue, but you’re almost scared to. You could just walk back up to the upper deck and continue tanning, or you could even go for a swim, but instead, you stay right where you are. You subconsciously start to play with a loose string on the shirt that you had slipped back on before coming down to Harry.

“I’m not uptight, by the way.” You say after a few moments of silence. 

He scoffs, “Yes you are.”

“How so?” You’d love to hear him explain this one, even though it’ll probably either hurt you even more or infuriate you. But you’d like to know why he thinks you’re so uptight,

“You think you’re better than everyone, especially your friends. You have the money to do what you want but you turn your nose up at the finer things in life and give all of us dirty looks when we drink from the top shelf or buy something super expensive.” You’re speechless for a moment, but he doesn’t seem to be done, so it doesn’t really matter. “You act like there’s something better about you getting cheap tequila and wearing the same clothes over and over again. Well, think about it this way, yeah, I buy from the top shelf and I wear a lot of new clothes, but most of those clothes, I get sent. Most of them I don’t even pay for. Which honestly, you’ll probably find to be worse. But yeah, you’re uptight.”

After a moment, the words ignite a fire in you. “First of all, that shows how little you know about me, Styles. I don’t have the money to do what I want. I have money, sure. But not that much. I have enough money from my job to pay for rent, bills, food, and then have a little bit to splurge on myself.” You really don’t want to have this conversation with him, you don’t like to talk about your financial situation with anyone, let alone him. “But nowhere near enough to spend excessive amounts on alcohol or drop almost a grand on a striped t-shirt with a pig on it that’s literally the size of my fingernail. Not all of us can be big shot CEO’s or superstars.”

He looks shocked by your words, which just further added to your point. He didn’t know you, not at all. He pretended to know you, made assumptions about you, all of which seemed to make him hate you more and more.

“Well you still give us dirty looks.” You almost snort at his feeble attempt to save his argument.

“I literally don’t but okay. I don’t really care what you think about me. Hate me if you want to. You’ll be annoying either way.” You turn on your heel to get as far away from his as possible, but he stops you with his words.

“I’m not annoying.” This time, you actually do let out a chuckle. Him thinking that he’s not an annoying little prick is honestly better comedy than the specials they try to run on TV.

“The fuck you aren’t, Harry. All you do is make snide comments.” Who did he think he was? A saint?

“I do not. Don’t start your shit, Y/N.” He glares at you, but his looks don’t have the effect that he wishes this time, they just add fuel to the fire still burning bright inside of you.

“Don’t start my shit?” You snicker. He has to be fucking kidding. “You tell me how trashy I look in outfits that I think I look great in. You tell me my makeup looks like shit and that if I was trying to impress someone, I failed, even though all I do is put it on for myself. You tell me to stop trying so hard to get attention when I’m literally trying to blend in as much as possible.” You’re trying to hold the emotion back, to not cry in front of him, because you’ve already spent enough time crying over the things that he’s said. “You call me a slut when I have a one night stand like you don’t literally bring a different girl hom every fucking night. So I don’t wanna hear it, Harry.”

If looks could kill, the one that he’s giving you at the moment would have you six feet under. “You don’t fucking know me. I don’t bring a new girl home every night, you make me sound like a fuckboy.” 

You roll your eyes. “I could make you sound a lot worse. And maybe there’s not one every night, but there’s at least one a week, and I have a one night stand what, maybe once every couple months? If even that?” You let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, maybe I don’t know you, but that’s not my fault. I didn’t make the choice to not know you. You pushed me away the second you met me, even though I did nothing to you. You didn’t let me know you. But you don’t know me either.” The tears are gathering in your eyes and threatening to spill onto your cheeks. You look up towards the sky, trying to make them subside. Once you feel confident enough in the fact that they won’t drop, you look back at him. “You’re not just annoying, you’re a dick. The shit you say? God, if you knew how much that shit can hurt someone.”

“Don’t come at me and say that any of that hurts you. You fire right back and then go on with your day.” The smirk that he has plastered on his face makes you want to knock him into a new dimension, but you compose yourself. He isn’t worth it.

“Yeah, of course I just let it roll off my shoulders while I’m around you. Have you ever thought about why that is? About why I seem to not care?” Your voice has slowly but surely become louder. “It’s because I’m not going to cry my eyes out and let myself wonder if maybe you’re right, that maybe I do look like shit and should cover up as much of my body as possible, right in front of you!” By the end, you’re screaming, and you don’t even care. 

You take a deep breath and continue, “I can’t give you the fucking satisfaction. Because Lord knows that you’ll just hold that over my head too.”

That seems to have some sort of effect on him. His face falls almost immediately, that god awful smirk disappearing. His eyes seem to get softer, and a part of you wants to walk over and hug him. But you don’t. Of course you don’t. He’s the guy you hate the most.

“I didn’t know you felt that way.” He mumbles as you’re getting ready to head back to the upper deck.

“I’m sorry.” He tries, but you’re not going to let him off the hook that easy.

“Sorry doesn’t fucking cut it, Harry. It’s not like you're even sorry anyway. You don’t care about me, so don’t start acting like you do now.” With that, you turn on your heel and make your way back up to continue tanning.

Once you get back to your towel, you let the few stray tears fall. You hate that he has the power to make you cry, but you can’t help it. He just gets to you, regardless of how hard you try to guard yourself from him.

He comes up after a few minutes and you look over at him, waiting for an explanation.

“I’m going for a swim. If you need anything, I’ll be in the water.” He states, and you turn back around.

“Have fun.” You spit, the words laced with sarcasm. 

He doesn’t reply. You hear his footsteps receding and then a splash signaling that he’s jumped off of the boat.

For some reason, you have a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach. At first, you ignore it, but then you stop hearing the sloshing of the water. You can’t help but let yourself get a little panicked. You may not be the biggest fan of the guy, but you can’t just let him drown.

You stand up from your spot on the towel and walk over to the side of the boat that you heard the initial splash come from.

You make your way back down to where you and Harry had fought. You grimace at the thought. Had that really been one of the last things he ever heard? No, you can’t think like that. 

You look to your right and notice that all four life jackets are still hooked on the railing. Of course he didn’t take a life jacket. Anything could have happened to him and now you wouldn’t even be able to float. He could be sinking to the bottom, never to be found again.

Yeah, he can swim. He’s actually a really good swimmer, but he could have hit his head on the boat when he jumped in. Or he could have dove down under the water and ended up getting caught on something. 

You rush over to slip one of the life jackets and grab an extra. The last thing that you needed was to find him and not be able to drag him back to the boat because he’s too heavy.

You jump in, the life jacket keeping you afloat. With there being no need to concentrate on not drowning, you focus all your efforts on finding Harry. You can’t see him anywhere in the general vicinity, so you start looking under the water as long as you’re able to.

You’re trying your hardest, but you can’t find him. 

You start to panic. Suddenly you find it hard to breathe and the tears are streaming down your face. You immediately blame yourself. You should have just stopped earlier, should’ve realized that there’s a better time to argue with him. Maybe if you had just been a little nicer, the two of you could have gotten along for the day. Why didn’t you just stop? Why didn’t you at least accept his apology?

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by a strong pair of arms wrapping around you. You scream, not knowing who it could possibly be. You twist in their arm, realizing that it was only Harry.

You push away from him. “What the fuck, Harry? I thought you died!”

“Really? And you came out here to look for me?” He asks, and for a moment, you think he might be grateful, but you can already see the smirk forming on his lips. You choose to ignore it for the moment, though.

“Yeah, I couldn’t hear you swimming around anymore and I thought maybe you had hit your head on something or gotten pulled under or something like that. Where were you?” You’re trying to wipe the tears off of your face, but your hands are just as soaked as your face, so it does absolutely no use.

“The other side of the boat, why didn’t you just check over there?” His smirk is present in full force now.

“I don’t know, slipped my mind, I guess.” You mumble, knowing that this could have all been avoided if you had just looked on the other side of the boat.

“Seems pretty fucking stupid of you.” He chuckles.

You push even further away from him, throwing the life jacket you had brought for him in his face. “You’re such a fucking dick! Sorry that I cared too fucking much about your life to check the entire perimeter of the boat before trying to save you!”

You can’t believe him. You didn’t think of one thing, in the heat of the moment, and now you’re stupid? Wow. Okay, next time you’ll just let him drown.

You start to swim back towards the boat. He’s following you, but you don’t care enough to acknowledge it.

“I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant, I swear. I know I can be an asshole but I'm not that heartless.” You don’t even turn back to him.

“Problem is, Styles, you really are that heartless.” You spit, climbing back onto the boat, trying to get as far away from him as possible.

He clambers up after you, trying to get your attention. You actively ignore him, though.

He grabs your wrist, wrapping his fingers around the joint. You spin on your heel.

“Let me go, Harry.” you demand.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” His eyes are pleading with you, but you genuinely can’t care any less. 

“Seems pretty fucking stupid of you.” You throw his words back at him.

His face immediately falls, not liking how the words hurt him. He deserves it though. All you were trying to do was help him and he was an absolute prick. 

You storm back up to your towel, laying down and trying to dry yourself off. 

Not too long after you head back up, he brings you a sandwich that he made with the supplies he had packed in the cooler.

“Thought you might be hungry.” He mumbles when he sits the plate down. He doesn’t wait for you to respond, just turns back and heads to where he came from.

You wait until he’s gone to eat, only doing so because it’s already made and you wouldn’t want the food to go to waste.

*

What seems like eons later, but was definitely only hours, Lexi and Sam get dropped off at the boat by a random couple you’ve never seen before.

You rush down to where they are.

“Did you guys get any closer?” Sam asks. 

You just roll your eyes and stick your hand out. “If you don’t hand the keys back this fucking instant, I will not hesitate to jump off this boat and swim back to the docks.”

Lexi looks at you with wide eyes and hands over the keys. The moment that you have them in your hands, you stomp over to Harry and chuck them at him.

���Drive this stupid ass boat back to the docks, and don’t you dare fuck around or you’ll get thrown overboard and I won’t bother to come looking for you.” He doesn’t argue with you, just picks up the keys and makes his way to the wheel.

“What happened?” Lexi questions, but you just brush her off.

“Ask him, he’ll tell you with a fucking smirk on his face.” You walk over to the bench and sit down, not wanting to talk to anyone else throughout the trip back.

*

It only registers with you that you’ll have to ride back to the house with Harry after you get to the docks.

“I’m walking home.” You announce, knowing that it’ll only take fifteen minutes tops to get back to the rental.

“What are you talking about?” Harry and Sam ask at the same time.

You ignore Harry, turning back to Sam. “I’m walking back to the house. It shouldn’t take me long, and there’s no way in hell I’m riding with him.”

With that, you turn and start walking. The road is secluded, lined by trees.

After a few minutes, they drive up to you. Harry rolls down his window. “Y/N, come on, I’ll walk if it’s that big of a deal.”

You raise your hand, flipping him off. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your Gucci shoes.”

He sighs, rolling the window back up and continuing to drive. He knows better than to argue with you right now. There’s no way that he’ll win.

You slow your stride, wanting to prolong the walk as long as possible. You only speed back up when the clouds start to turn into a viscous shade of gray.

The one thing that could bother you more than Harry is thunderstorms. And you can tell by the state of the sky that a bad one’s coming.

*

You sneak back into the house, pushing the door open as quietly as possible. Thankfully, there’s nobody in the living room. Everyone seems to have retired to their rooms. 

As you’re creeping down the hallway, you hear Harry talking to Lexi. Her door is slightly ajar and you can’t help but stop and listen.

“No, no. Lexi, I know. I fucked up. I shouldn’t have called her stupid. All she was trying to do was help me. God, I’m such a fucking idiot.” You can hear his voice waiver and you think for a moment that he might be crying. You quickly push the thought from your mind. Why would Harry be crying over you?

“Yeah, you did fuck up. Harry, this isn’t how you treat people that you care about.” Every trace of air leaves your lungs at that. Since when does Harry care about you? You want to blame it on him lying, but why would he? It’s just Lexi. And they have no way of knowing that you’re here. He must be telling the truth. 

“I know, I know. We were arguing before then, She told me about how shitty I make her feel and it absolutely tore my heart into pieces. I don’t mean to make her feel that way.” You can’t deny that he’s crying, hearing the sob come less than a millisecond after he finishes.

“I know that, H. But she doesn’t, She thinks you get a kick out of hurting her. She really thinks you hate her.” You can visualize what she’s doing, knowing how she comforts like the back of your hand. She’s running her hand over Harry’s back, trying to soothe him. And if that doesn’t work, she’ll push his hair back and wipe the tears from his face, tell him that it’ll all be okay.

“I’m aware. But I don’t, I hate hurting her. That’s what I hate, not her.” If he doesn't hate you, then why does he act the way that he does?

“Then go show her.” You smile, Lexi knows you so well. She knows that you judge people off their actions. And that you don’t believe a word anyone says until they show you that their words actually mean something.

“Alright. I will when she gets home.” The determination in his voice makes your heart swell. 

You hear him get off of his bed and you scurry to your room, not wanting to face him, and really not wanting to get caught eavesdropping. You slip inside and close your door just in the nick of time. Half a second after you’re out of sight, you hear his feet padding along the hallway to his room.

You sigh, a million thoughts running through your head. 

Could he really care about you?

If he does, why is he so rude to you all the time?

How does he expect to make this up to you?

You decided to take a shower. Not only to get clean, but also to clear your head. The second the water hits your skin, you know that there’s no way this shower is going to be as quick as you had planned. For a long time, you just stand under the stream of water, letting your mind run rampant with the thoughts of Harry. 

Is it a good thing that he could care about you? Sure, you see how he is with everyone else, and you’ve always craved to have that with him. And hating him is absolutely exhausting, most of the time you’d rather just fall into the easy conversation that he’s able to have with the rest of his friends. 

But would it be that easy? Probably not. Nothing was ever that easy when it came to him.

Are you willing to work for it? If Harry takes the initiative and tries to show you that he does care, then yes.

Once you come to that conclusion, you realize just how long that you’ve been in the shower. Your body is starting to prune, and the water has gotten significantly cooler.

You step out and throw on the shirt that you slept in the night before, but not slipping on the shorts.

You open the bathroom door and trudge over to the bed, flopping down and switching the lamp off. 

Usually, you could never fall asleep comfortably during storms, but after the day that you’ve had, your eyes are shut and sleep is overtaking you in mere moments.

*

Far too soon, you’re being shaken awake. 

The first thing you notice is that it’s dark outside. Who in their right minds is waking you up before sunrise, you don’t know.

The second thing you notice is the chill of someone’s cold rings on your skin. The contact makes a shiver run down your spine. 

You immediately roll over and face him. The sight of him is not great. He’s soaked from head to toe, water dripping on the floor. You almost have the nerve to scold him for not drying off, but then you realize that he has no reason to be wet. What did he do? What happened to him?

“When did you get home?” He asks, voice sticking in his throat.

“Earlier. Why are you wet?” Your voice is hoarse from sleep and you pray that you don’t sound revolting.

“Went out in the storm.” He shrugs. “None of us heard you come home. I guess when I checked in here earlier you were in the shower or something.”

“Why did you guys go looking? You could’ve just called or texted.” You say, then realize that you may have seemed ungrateful. “Not that I’m complaining, thanks for worrying about me.”

“Well, you see, Sam and Lexi thought you’d be fine. You know the way home, after all. They just thought you had stopped somewhere to cool off and wait out the storm. I went looking though, I was really worried. And I didn’t text or call because I, um, don’t exactly have your phone number.” He lets out a dry chuckle, running his hands through his hair.

Your heart swells. Harry went looking for you. He walked right out into a thunderstorm because he was worried that you were stuck out there by yourself.

“Hey, um, so I didn’t mean to eavesdrop or anything, but I heard a snippet of your conversation with Lexi earlier while I was walking to my room.” You gulp, hoping he doesn’t think you’re creepy or anything. “Did you really mean what you said?”

“Which part did you hear?” His question is laced with anxiety and he looks like he’s seconds away from passing out.

“Um, from the part where you said you fucked up and didn’t really hate me.” You mumble.

“Yeah, I meant every word. I also meant it when I said I was gonna show you that I care about you.” He looks up, meeting your eyes. You can’t help the feeling you get in your chest. This man just went out into the pouring rain, lightning falling all around him, just to look for you.

“I think you already did, H.” Regardless of how he treated you in the past. Hell, how he treated you in the past twenty four hours, you can’t help but see tha the really does care about you. Lexi and Sam, the two people in the house who were supposed to not hate you in the slightest didn’t even go looking, but the one person who was supposed to not give a fuck about whether you’re breathing or not did.

“Did you- you just called me H?” He stumbles, and a smile comes to your face.

“Yeah? So?” He said it like it was a good thing, but you could never be too sure with him.

“So, you’ve never done that before.” His expression is unreadable. Usually you can tell exactly what he’s thinking, but right now you’re coming up blank.

“Do you not want me to? I can stop saying it.” You wouldn’t ever want to do something that he’s uncomfortable with, you just thought that’s what everyone called him.

“No!” he blurts. “No, please don’t stop. I like the way it sounds coming from you.”

“Alright.” you grin “H.”

The smile that breaks out over his face is the biggest that you’ve ever seen. “Wait, what did you mean I already did?” He wonders. 

 “You just risked getting sick to go out in the pouring rain to try to find me.” Which reminds you, if he doesn’t get in a warm shower and some dry clothes soon, he’s going to catch something.

“It’s the least I could do.” His cheeks are turning a light shade of pink, and you really hope that it’s a blush and not him being cold.

“Yeah, but that shows me that you care, H.” You say, getting up from the bed and checking to see if you had brought the extra sweatpants and sweatshirt. Unfortunately, you hadn’t. 

“I’m sorry, by the way. Like really sorry. I hate myself for what I said. I’m so stupid. You were just trying to save me and I was a dick.” You appreciate the sentiment, you really do, but right now, that’s not your concern.

“It’s fine.” You mumble, because, really, it is.

“No, it’s not.” He doesn’t want to believe it, but it really is. You wouldn’t be letting him drip excessive amounts of water on the floor if you were still mad at him. 

“Yes, H, it is. Now come on, let me go get you some clean clothes. Go get in the shower, there are towels in the bathroom.” You’ve come to the realization that you’d have to retrieve his clothes, seeing as you hadn’t exactly planned for something like this.

“Y/n, it’s fine. I can just go take a shower in my room.” He tries, but you immediately refuse.

“No. You can take one in here so I know that you take one and don’t just change into dry clothes.” The look he gives you lets you know that was exactly what he was planning to do.

“I’m not gonna win this, am I?” You chuckle, pleased that he knows well enough to not argue with you any further on this.

“Not a chance, now get your ass in there.” You put your hands on his shoulders and nudge him towards the bathroom. You try your hardest to not think about the way his muscles ripple underneath your digits.

“Alright, alright. I’m going.” He concedes, trodding into the bathroom.

You wait until you hear the water running before you exit the room to find his clothes. You make the journey to his room, grabbing boxers and a pair of sweatpants from his bag. You don’t bother trying to find a shirt, knowing from the countless times that he’s stripped out of one to take a nap at a friends house that he never wears them to bed.

You make your way back to your room, sitting the clothes down on the small table sat outside the bathroom door.

His vast collection of rings is placed on the table as well. He must have taken them off and sat them there after you left. 

Without thinking, your hand reaches out and picks up the rose ring that adorns his hand more often than not. It’s gorgeous, and you can’t stop your fingertips from running across the designs. The band is etched with leaves and vines, and upon further inspection, you feel that there’s a little caterpillar seemingly hidden on the inner part of the ring.

It’s heavy in your hand and you can't help but wonder just how much metal was used to make this ring. It’s obvious that it was hand etched, so your mind tries to picture how big the piece was before the carving started.

After a few moments, you place it back on the table, picking up his Cartier ring. You wonder for a moment how something so simple could cost the ridiculous price that it did. Sure, it’s absolutely gorgeous, but the price tag that you know it carries is enough to make the appeal fade. You don’t have the luxury of dropping thousands on a ring.

He opens the door and you immediately drop the ring, cheeks burning from being caught. You know how much he adores his rings, and you’re scared for a split second that you’ve overstepped, crossed a boundary that he wouldn’t be comfortable with.

All your worries are washed away, though, when he says, “Wear it.” He reaches over for his clothes, a towel wrapped around his waist.

You gawk at him. Was he serious? “H, I can’t do that.” You go to scramble away, before your eyes get caught on the way that the water droplets from the shower cling to him, the sheen making his tattoos even more vivid. God, what you would do to trace every line and seemingly miniscule detail.

He gives you a soft smile, and your heart speeds up to a rate that has to be unhealthy, especially since you’re sitting still, your back rimrod straight. “Yes you can. Go ahead, put it on.” He urges.

You sigh, picking up the Cartier ring that you had been admiring moments prior and slip it on your ring finger, that being the one you wear all rings on. You glance up at him through your lashes and you can see the way that his eyes seem to have lit up. You try to ignore the way your stomach flutters, the butterflies going absolutely wild.

He chuckles, looking down at your finger, where the ring sits, looking about five sizes too small. You join along, letting a lighthearted laugh slip through your lips. It truly was ginormous on you, but you expected no less. He does have large hands, after all.

“I’ve got a chain around here somewhere, keep the ring.” He says nonchalantly, like he’s not gifting you a fucking Cartier ring.

“Harry, no, it’s too expensive.” You can’t possibly accept this ring, so you really hope that he doesn’t fight you on it. You’re pretty sure you’d say yes to just about anything if he keeps looking at you like he’s just seen the most precious thing in the world.

“If you don’t keep it and wear it, I’ll never wear it again, so it might as well be worn by you.” He argues, giving you the stern look that you know well. It’s always the one that says not to argue back, that he’ll just continue pestering you if you do.

Knowing that the argument would go on for hours on end if you didn’t, you reluctantly agree.

He gives a triumphant smile before returning to the bathroom, clothes in hand.

A moment later, he comes back out into your room and your ability to breathe is gone. You swear he’s the most perfect person you’ve ever seen. Sure, you’ve seen how pretty he is before, but you’ve never let yourself truly see how perfect he is. Maybe you prematurely judged that article. Maybe they had a point. 

The muscles in his upper body ripple under his tan skin, making your mouth damn near water. You avert your eyes from his shoulders to his chest, admiring the butterfly inked onto his abdomen. You had always adored that tattoo, at times you even wished that you had thought of the idea before he had. You see the way that the ferns underneath trace his lower stomach, the endings leading a trail right to the band of his sweatpants. 

God, why would you get him gray sweatpants? At this view, your mouth actually does water, wondering how good he would look with even less on.

Him shuffling over to pick up his rings is what breaks you out of your trance, your cheeks heating up from the thoughts that had been running through your mind.

He places each of the rings carefully back on his hands, sans the Cartier ring. He left that one on the table, looking up at you with a smirk.

He begins to make his way out the door, but you stop him.

“H,” you give him your best puppy eyes when he stops and looks over his shoulder at you, “Will you stay with me? I’m scared of thunderstorms.”

“Are you really?” He doesn’t say it in a mocking way, it’s more in a perplexed way. You’re not confused by this in the slightest, as far as he used to be concerned, you’re not scared of anything.

“Yeah,” you admit, “but I also want to get to know you. Feel like we’ve missed a lot while hating each other.”

He sighs, “Never hated you.”

You smile, “I know, I know, but I thought you did. Made me not able to get to know you very well.”

“Alright.” He agrees. “Let me go put my rings up and get that chain for you and then I’ll stay.”

You wait patiently as he does just that, wondering why you had never just taken the time to talk to him before. Would it really have been that simple? 

“Here you are.” He speaks when he reenters the room, walking over to the stand and placing the ring on the chain. Once he’s done, he gently sets it back down, ensuring that the chain doesn’t get tangled, and then trudges over to you.

He sits on the edge of the bed, probably just intending to stay until you fall asleep, and at first you’re fine with that. But then you start to get progressively more tired, and your clinginess starts kicking in, that fact that you’re touch starved not helping.

“H.” you groan, making his ears perk up and his eyes snap to yours.

“Hmm?” he wonders.

You make grabby hands at him. “Come cuddle with me.”

A smile breaks out on his face and your stomach does the flippy thing that makes your heart race.

He slowly crawls towards you, as if he’s giving you enough time to take back your words, to give him any sign that you regret ever asking him to come up to you. Once he’s right beside you and you’ve made no move to stop him, he slips under the covers and pulls you close.

You immediately sigh in content and place your head on his chest, the sleepiness taking over more and more as you listen to his heartbeat against your ear.

RIght before you completely drift off, you mumble, “You’re not as bad as I thought you were.” You hope he hears you, but you don’t have the time to check, sleep overtaking your body and pulling you under.

*

When you wake up the next morning, you let your eyes stay shut, not wanting to be greeted with the sunlight just yet.

You shift slightly and realize that you’re still laying with Harry. You can feel his solid chest under your head, your legs are tangled with his. 

After a moment, you can feel him looking at you, “It’s rude to stare, H.” You joke, expecting him to laugh.

He doesn’t, though, instead he just whispers, “Can’t help it. You’re beautiful.” 

You immediately blush, burning under the compliment. You’re still not used to being this close to Harry in general, but receiving compliments from him is even weirder.

“Can I tell you something?” You look up at him, waiting for him to accept your question.

“Yeah, anything.” He holds eye contact with you, your faces mere inches apart. You could very easily push yourself up and attach your lips to his, but you refrain, not wanting to push too far. You had just started really talking to each other last night.

“I never hated you either.” You say, the words barely audible. You’re ashamed of it, of the fact that you pretended to hate him, probably making everything worse than it had to be.

“Really?” He looks hopeful, like he’s praying that you’re not joking with him. 

“Really. I just thought that you hated me. Figured that we should at least balance each other out.” You let out a humorless laugh, trying to make light of the situation, but you still can’t shake the guilt. You probably could have been lying in bed with him a long time ago had you just made it clear that you didn’t hate him.

“So all this time, neither one of us hated the other, but we both thought we did?” He has a smirk etched on his face, and a very large part of you wants to close the space between the two of you. You can’t handle the smirk right now, not when his chestnut curls are framing his face the way that they are. Not when his bare chest is still pressed against you, warming you up in the most delightful way.

“Basically.” You can’t help but giggle. The situation really is quite ridiculous.

You move to get up and he pouts, holding onto you and trying to get you to stay in his arms, he’s enjoying the warmth that you’re radiating. 

“Where are you going?” He whines, making your throat constrict. He sounds so pretty when he whines.

“I’ve gotta pee, I’ll be right back.” You promise, knowing that the words will soothe him.

“Don’t go…” He tries giving you puppy dog eyes, but they won’t work this time, not when you can feel the urge to use the bathroom growing.

“I have to pee, but I promise I’ll come back to exactly where I was when I’m done.” You reach over to him and push a stray curl behind his ears, reveling in how soft that his hair is.

“Good, I wanna keep cuddling.” He mumbles, and you can’t help but feel the butterflies return yet again. You can’t believe that Harry was just begging you to stay curled up in bed with him.

It all seems a little off, having him in your bed, cuddling with you. Less than twenty four hours prior, you were screaming at each other on a boat about how much you can’t stand each other, and now neither of you do? You come to find out that the both of you were faking it this entire time? The entire situation is a little confusing, but you’re a lot happier with it than you were with being at each other's throats all the time.

Now that the two of you are being more honest with each other, you figure it’s probably time to start being more honest with yourself. And that starts with admitting the feelings that you’ve been suppressing for him. 

You had seen how attractive he was the moment that you had even laid eyes on one of the numerous articles about him. You aren’t shallow though, that’s not what made you have the feelings that you had developed for him. You could also see just how nice he was to everyone else, how he lit up every room that he walked into. How everyone was always put into a better mood just by his presence. You began to fall for that version of himself, the one that he was with everyone else. You had caught feelings before he even said a word to you. There were times when you had been at the same party or event, and you’d be able to feel the effect he had on everyone else. And at first, that was intimidating, but then you felt a pull to him. Like the two of you were magnets and were destined to be together.

But then you actually talked to him, and everything went south.

Now, though, you’ve realized that he’s only like he is with you because he thought that you hated him. Which is absurd to you, but you were quite distant that night. You had been overwhelmed, thinking that you were inferior to him in every way that night. Maybe that’s why he thought that you hated him, because you didn’t show that much interest, because you seemed like you didn’t want to get to know him.

You don’t really know how to process that information. This entire thing had initially been your fault, had you just gotten over yourself and realized that you’re good enough to talk to him, all of this could have been avoided.

As you wash your hands and get ready to exit the bathroom, you can’t help but wonder what everything’s going to be like. How are you going to act around each other? Is it gonna change? Are you still going to bicker or are you going to act like everything’s perfectly fine? 

You scoff at yourself, of course you’re still going to bicker, that’s who you are. Plus, nobody’s perfect, all friends argue about something at points.

When you come out of the bathroom he’s sitting on the end of the bed. You raise your eyebrows in question. “Thought we were gonna keep cuddling?” 

He quickly rises when he sees you. “Had a slightly better idea.” He holds out his hand and waits for you to take it.

“I’m more of a touchy kind of person.” He starts after you take his hand. “I show that I care about people by physical touches.” He pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist. “If we’re gonna tell them that we don’t hate each other, we’ve got to at least make it believable.”

“Stop making it sound like we’re pretending.” You laugh. “You just cuddled with me throughout the night. There’s no way in hell we hate each other. But yeah, I’m that way too, so I don't mind the touches.” You assure, pulling back and reconnecting your hands.

He gives you a reassuring look as you walk out of your room and into the sitting room. Sam and Lexi stop the conversation they were having immediately and look over at the two of you. Their jaws are on the floor within moments, obviously not believing what they're seeing. 

“Why are you holding hands?” Sam blurts, breaking the silence that had blanketed the room.

“H, you only do that with girls you’re dating or girls that you’re friends with. What’s happening?” Lexi adds, a hopeful glimmer in her eyes.

“Wanna explain?” Harry asks, squeezing your hand.

“Sure.” You say.

You begin to explain it to them, making sure to get all the details. Harry’s mostly quiet beside you, only inputting anything when you forget something.

For a moment after you finish, the silence is back. Lexi and Sam look at you like you’re absolutely insane. After a minute of letting their brains process the information, they finally let smiles break out on their faces, jumping up from the couch to hug the both of you, excited that you guys can finally get along.

*

After a little while of the four of you sitting around and talking, it’s decided that everyone should go out on the yacht. This time, though, nobody will be stealing any keys.

Once you get out to the desired spot on the water and anchor the boat, you turn to Harry. “Hey, H?” 

“Yeah, love?” He used the term like it’s no big deal, but it makes your stomach churn in the best way possible.

“Wanna go swimming? Promise not to think you’ve drowned again.” You chuckle.

Harry doesn’t seem as amused though, still feeling guilty about how he treated you. “Sure, promise not to be a dick again.”

You walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your head into his chest. “I told you it was alright, H. Stop beating yourself up over it.”

He sighs, nodding his head. You grab his hand, pulling him along the deck to the edge of the boat.

“Wanna jump together?” You look over at him and see the smile break out across his face, the dimples and eye crinkles out in full force.

“Yeah, love, let’s do it.” Before you can think too much about the second use of the word, he’s counting down from three and then you’re jumping, body submerging into the crystal water.

If you had been paying more attention to anyone besides Harry, you would have seen the way that Lexi and Sam were caught up in watching you, wondering how in the world the two of you had done a full one eighty in less that twenty four hours. Sure, they wanted the two of you to get along, but they never expected you to get this close as fast as you did.

After a while of swimming around with Harry, you decide to get out and try to tan, seeing as not everyone can be actors that get paid to go swimming and get tans.

As you do so, you can feel Harry’s eyes on your body, but you choose not to acknowledge it. For a moment, you want to invite him to come tan with you, but you don’t want to make your feelings too obvious to him.

*

When it starts to get dark, Lexi proposes that everyone head back to the deck. You agree, ready to go home and get out of your bikini. 

Harry tries to get you to drive the yacht, even trying to teach you, but to no avail, you have absolutely no skill when it comes to driving boats.

Once you get to the docks and clamber off the yacht, the group splits up, Lexi and Sam going towards their car while you and Harry head towards his.

“Are you hungry, darling?” He ponders once you’re settled in the car.

“I mean a little bit, why?” You reach over to turn on the radio, letting the soft sounds of music play through the car.

“I saw this cute little diner when I was looking for you last night.” He says, handing you his phone. “Plug up the aux cord and play something from Spotify.”

You scroll through his spotify, seeing that his work out playlist is just One Direction songs. You almost snort, but don’t want to give away the song you’re going to choose.

After another moment of scrolling, you turn the volume on the speakers all the way up, clicking on “What Makes You Beautiful” and letting the opening chords play through the car.

He smirks, looking over at you. “I hope you know that you’re expected to scream this with me.”

Your features mirror his, “Oh, trust me, I planned on it.”

*

When you reach the diner, you see just how cute it really is. But then you realize that the two of you had been in the car for almost twenty minutes, which arguably isn’t a long time, but to walk this far it would have taken forever.

“H, you walked this far looking for me?” You ask, although you already know the answer.

“Yeah. Well, technically, I walked further.” He blushes at his words and your heart melts in your chest. You can’t help but feel a little guilty, though. It had been storming, full on thunder and lightning every few seconds. He could have gotten hurt, yet he put his safety to the side because he thought that you hadn’t come home yet. If only you had put aside your pettiness and just let everyone know that you had arrived home safely, he wouldn’t have had to walk out in the storm at all.

You walk into the diner, shaking the thoughts from your head. Harry leads you to a booth near the back, one that’s placed right next to a window with a wonderful view.

Moments after you’re settled into your seat, a waiter comes up to you and takes your order. You notice that he’s paying special attention to you, and it makes you slightly uncomfortable, so you turn to Harry after reciting your order. “What do you want, baby?”

He gives you a questioning look but ultimately goes along with it, not even missing a beat. He gives his order to the waiter and waits until he walks away to turn back to you. “What was that about?”

“He was staring at me, looking me up and down, it made me really uncomfortable.” You say, looking down at your hands. “Thought if he believed we were together that he’d stop, which he didn’t.” You scoff at the audacity of the waiter. “Sorry if I ended up just making you uncomfortable too.”

He reaches over the table, taking your hands in his. “Hey, it’s alright. I wasn’t uncomfortable, just took me by surprise, is all.” He gives your hands a gentle squeeze. “If he comes back over and makes eyes at you, I’ll put him in his place, okay?”

You chuckle, nodding at him. Hopefully, the waiter would get caught up with other customers or would learn some manners so that he didn’t say anything, but either way, you knew you’d be okay.

“So, anyways, how can you be so bad at driving the yacht? It’s just a boat.” Harry asks, obviously trying to hold in a laugh.

“It’s really not that hard to be bad at it.” You defend. “I know plenty of people that can’t drive a boat.”

“Have they ever tried?” His eyebrows raise.

“No.” You mumble, flicking your eyes from his gaze.

“Well that explains that.” He pauses until you meet his gaze again. “No, but seriously, it’s way easier to drive than a car.”

You clear your throat. “I’m not that good at that either, H.” 

“Really?” He looks embarrassed, sorry to have pushed you, like he was worried that he had gone too far. 

You really didn’t mind, though, it’s not something you’re ashamed of, you just don’t really like driving. “Really. Ever noticed how I don’t drive anywhere?”

His eyes widen in realization. “Yeah, actually. If nobody else is available, I used to drive you places.” 

“Yeah, well, that’s because I suck at driving.” You say, looking down at your hands, which you realize are still being held by his. “I just feel more comfortable with other people driving me around.”

You feel him squeeze your hands again, the rings biting into your skin slightly. “I thought maybe you just didn’t have a car.”

Your head snaps up, eyes meeting his. You flash him a dirty look and go to pull your hands from his. Before you can, though, he squeezes tighter, making you stop for a moment.

“Not like that! It’s just that everything you do is in close proximity to your house.” Your hateful look subsides. You had seemed to forget for a moment that you weren’t enemies anymore. You were… friends? “There’s not really a need for you to have a car unless you were to drive somewhere far away, but usually that’s only for work and you fly.” He continues.

“Well, yeah, that’s true. But I do have a car, I just prefer not to drive it myself.” He nods his head, seeming to understand enough to let it slide.

You fall into a comfortable silence, his hands still clutching yours. You let your eyes scan over his face before wandering back to his seafoam green eyes. God, his eyes are beautiful. Everything about him is beautiful, honestly.

You’re broken out of your examination of him by the waiter coming back with your food and beverage choices. He sits Harry’s down first, and then places yours down. He doesn’t look at Harry again, just looking at you as he asks if there’s anything else that’s needed. You see his eyes trail downwards, and you give Harry’s hand a squeeze, causing him to clear his throat at the manager.

“Excuse me, sir?” This catches the waiter’s attention, making him turn back to Harry. “Could you maybe not eye fuck my girlfriend right in front of me?”

The waiter balks at him, and then tries to deny it. “I- I wasn’t!”

“Let’s not lie about it, you definitely were.” His voice is raspy and it makes your heart rate pick up. “And you were making her uncomfortable, so how about you explain to one of your coworkers why you need to switch them tables, yeah?”

The waiter just nods, walking away without so much as a glance back.

“Thank you, H.” He doesn’t reply, just squeezes your hands to let you know you’re alright. He lets go to eat, but you can see the way that his jaw is clenched.

“Hey, what’s up, you’re tense.” You try to meet his eyes, but he won’t look at you.

“I just don’t like the way he was looking at you.” He mumbles. 

You make the split second decision to walk over to his side of the booth and slide in next to him. He immediately makes room for you, lifting up his arm so you can crawl into his side.

“I’m alright, you know. I just don’t like being looked at like an object.” You whisper into his side.

“I know, love. I know you’re alright, you’re strong.” He squeezes you closer to him and you feel a smile come to your face. “And I don’t like it either. I’ll punch him next time he looks at you like that.”

You reach up and run your hand through his hair, smiling at him. He leans into your touch, and that’s when you realize just how close you are. He’s got you pulled into his side, one of your thighs is slung over his, and your faces are what seems to be only a few millimeters apart.

Every part of you wants to close the difference, to press your lips to his. Every fiber of your being wants to know what his lips feel like, wants to know how they taste. You don’t lean in, though, not wanting to ruin what the two of you have going on.

You look back down, pulling your food over to you and finishing your meal.

After the check is paid, he drives you home, the only sounds in the car being the radio and the tap of his fingers against the steering wheel. 

*

The next day flows by smoothly, everyone just chilling on the yacht and going for a swim.

When you get back to the house that night, though, Sam and Lexi come to your room to tell you that they’ll be leaving early, babbling on about some really good sale on jeans or something. They ask if you want to go with them but you politely decline, having absolutely no interest in jeans that, even when on sale, probably cost thousands of dollars.

They bid you a goodnight and let you know that they’ll be leaving early in the morning, most likely before you get up.

You wish them a safe trip and then roll over in bed, thinking about what this would mean. It would just be you and Harry for a few days. Would you spend a bunch of time together? Would you even talk that much? 

You don’t know how to spend that much alone time with Harry, mostly because you’ve only been close enough to spend any amount of time with him for a few days.

You’re anxious, probably more than you have been in a while. You can feel your hands sweating and your breath getting caught in your throat.

Suddenly, a knock comes at your door and you immediately yell, “Come in!”

You expect it to be Lexi or Sam, but it’s Harry.

“Hey, don't you mind if I hang with you?” He asks, fiddling with his fingers. “I’m kinda bored, plus the other night I saw that mini puzzle you brought so I was thinking maybe we could do that?”

You smile at his observational skills. “Yeah, it’s no problem. Come on, I’ll get the puzzle.”

You walk over to the carry on that you had packed and grabbed the puzzle. It’s only a hundred pieces, but each one is so small and oddly shaped that you had never been able to get the placement right. You had figured you’d try to do so on this trip, but you hadn’t seemed to have the time.

You trudge back over to the bed, sitting down a piece of cardboard that you had found in a storage closet when exploring the closet a few days prior, and spread out the pieces.

You immediately get to work, him doing the same. Every time he would reach to grab a piece, his rings clack together, and you can’t help but gaze at them. You love the way that the rings look on him.

He looks over at you, catching you staring at his hands. He chuckles, before hopping off the bed, seeming to remember something.

“I’ll be right back.” He promises, not waiting for your response before coming back with one hand behind his back.

“Hold out your hand.” He demands, and you do so, holding out your right hand. “No, no, palm side down.” You flip your hand over and then he slides a ring onto your right hand. 

After it’s placed on your hand, you look down, realizing that it’s a replica of his rose ring, but this one actually fits you, which means that he would have to have bought it specifically for you.

You can feel your chest tightening and your eyes begin to get a little blurry. His gesture is so cute and all you want to do is wrap him up in your arms.

“H, when did you even get this?” You say, gesturing to the ring.

“The other day after everyone went to bed, I drove to London and got it.” He says, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “I saw you looking at it the other day, figured I’d get one that would fit you so that we could match.”

“Thank you, H. That’s so sweet of you.” You wrap your arms around him, and without thinking, you crawl into his lap, straddling him. “How do you even think of things like this?”

He doesn’t say anything about the way that you're sitting, just wraps his arms around your back and pulls you impossibly closer.

“When I’m not pretending to hate people, I’m actually pretty smart.” he chuckles, and you can feel the vibration of the action throughout your body.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Styles.” You mumble into his neck. “You’re still an idiot.”

“Hey!” He whines, pushing you off of him only to tackle you into the mattress, tucking his head into the crook of your neck.

Subconsciously, you raise your hand up, digging into his hair and beginning to play with it. Neither of you say anything, just enjoying each other’s presence. After a while, you start to feel Harry getting heavier and heavier, his breathing getting more even. 

You try to stay in that position, loving the feeling of him wrapped up on you, but he’s a lot bigger than you and all the muscle he’s put on makes him a lot heavier than you can handle, the weight being too much on your chest and making you feel like you can’t breathe.

You roll him off of you, trying to be as gentle as possible so that you don’t wake him up, but you fail epicly. The second that you’ve got him completely off of you, he grabs your waist, pulling you over to lay on him like he was on you moments prior. Your legs are tucked between his, your face pressed into his neck. His warmth is radiating into your skin and his scent is swirling around you.

“Night, love.” He mumbles, angling his face down to kiss the top of your head.

“Night, H.” You murmur back, pulling the blanket over the two of you.

You focus on the way that his chest feels rising and falling underneath yours. You can feel his heartbeat, the way that it seems to be slightly faster than usual. You don’t think too much of it, though, he’s probably just hot.

Slowly, your thoughts begin to slow down, the prospect of a good night’s sleep pulling you further and further under until you’re dreaming about Harry.

*

When you wake up the next morning, you’re sweating. At first, you don’t think much of it, you were sandwiched between Harry and a wool blanket, after all. But then you realize that there’s something off with the way that Harry feels.

He’s radiating more heat than he normally does, which is already more than most people do.

You’re worried that he could be sick, so you scurry to the bathroom to find the thermometer that you saw when you first started staying in the house.

You make quick work of cleaning it off with an alcohol wipe, not wanting to risk him getting anything worse than he possibly already could have.

You shake him awake, ignoring his groans of protest, and make him put the thermometer under his tongue. You press the button and wait for it to beep, signifying that it’s done. 

You feel like you’re going to be sick when you look at the digital number that’s being presented to you. 102 degrees. That’s not ideal. 

“Hospital, H. Now.” You demand, not giving any room to argue on this. There’s no way that you’re going to let him lay in bed with a fever when you don’t even know what’s causing it. Maybe some people would, but you refuse. There are countless reasons why he could have this high of a fever, and each of them had different recommended treatments. You weren’t going to risk it and treat him for the wrong thing, only to make something worse.

He grumbles a “no” and you shake your head. Of course he would fight you on this.

“I’m not risking your life, H. Get the fuck up.” You wait for a moment, watching him shake his head no again. Once you know he won’t get up, you wrap your forearms underneath his arms and lift, dragging his lanky figure out of bed. 

Once he’s completely off the bed and standing next to you, you lift his arm, wrapping it around your shoulders so that you can support his weight. You grunt from the added stress on your shoulders.

You begin to make your way out to the car, making sure to stop on the way out the door to grab the keys from the hook and a water bottle from the fridge for him.

You unlock his car and all but shove him into the passenger seat, leaning across him and buckling his seatbelt for him.

Once that’s completed, you rush around the car and slip into the driver’s side, buckling your own seatbelt before inserting the key in the ignition and turning the car on.

“You hate driving, you can’t get me there.” He tries to argue, and you just laugh.

“You couldn’t drive even if you wanted to. Plus, I can get you there. I’ll be fine.” There’s no way that you were going to chicken out of this. Sure, you hated driving, but you hated the idea of something happening to him even more.

“No, y/n, it’s fine, if you don’t like driving you shouldn’t have to drive me.” The fact that he’s thinking of you right now, of all times, makes your heart rate quicken. How was he always so sweet? “I’ll be alright. I’ll just sweat it out.”

“No, Harry, you will not just sweat it out.” You say, rubbing a hand over your face. “You could die if it gets too much worse. There could be something seriously wrong. And you’re probably like this because you went out in the rain looking for me.” Sure, it’s been a few days, but that doesn’t mean that it wasn’t from that. The symptoms could have just not been showing up until now. “And trust me when I say that I am most definitely not letting you die.” You give him a look when he starts to protest again.

The drive to the hospital is shaky. There’s a few times where you think you’re going to freak out, but each time, Harry reaches his hand over and squeezes your knee in reassurance and you instantly feel your breathing even out again. 

Thankfully, you make it there safely. Throughout the trip he had drank the entire water bottle and he seemed to be more alert than he was when you woke him up. You still come over to his side of the car and help him hobble into the hospital, though, not wanting him to accidentally fall and break anything.

You sit him down in one of the chairs and walk to the counter to check him in. You come back with the paperwork that the lady handed you, and you’re surprised to know that you know the majority of the answers. You only have to pester him when you get to the section about his family’s medical history and when you need him to sign the paperwork.

You quickly go back to the counter to give her the pages back. She smiles and assures you that she’ll get everything entered and that the doctor will be right with him.

The doctor comes out and calls his name. He takes one glance in her direction and then grabs your hand. “Y/N, can you come back with me?” He gives you the best puppy dog eyes that he can manage.

You chuckle, agreeing immediately. How could you ever say no to that face?

Once you get to the room that the doctor led you too, she begins to ask a few questions. After answering them, she takes Harry’s temperature, the thermometer that she uses reading the same as the one at the house did. She decided to do a few tests, some of which nearly make Harry throw up, and then comes back with the results a little while later.

“It seems like he has the flu. Nothing too serious as of right now, though. I’ll give you a prescription to get filled for him since it doesn’t seem like he’ll be doing much for himself until his fever goes down, at least.

You smile, thanking her for letting you know, and gather Harry and the prescription paper. On the way back to the house, you drop off the prescription and wait for it to be filled. 

“Can I go in and get some candy?” He asks as you get out of the car to go pick up the medicine.

“No, H,” You see him pout at you, so you quickly continue, “but I can go in and get it for you.”

The smile that he gives you makes your world slow. All you want to do for the remainder of time is just make him smile and bask in the light that it gives off. But you can’t focus on that right now, you have to go in and get his candy and his medicine and then get him back home.

He tells you what he wants, whining about how it’s his absolute favorite candy. You go buy it for him, deciding to get a few of them so that he’ll have some for later, hopefully for when after he feels better. You also get him another water bottle, knowing that he’ll have to take his medicine once you get back to the car.

You quickly go to the counter, giving them his information and then walking back out to the car. 

After paying for everything, you rush back to the car and give him his medicine. After he’s taken it, he begins to munch on his candy as you drive the both of you back to the rental.

Once you reach the rental, the ride back goes much smoother than the one there, you take him back to your room and lay him on the bed.

“I can’t sleep in here.” You frown, wondering why he’s had the sudden change of heart. “You’ll get the flu too.”

You roll your eyes at him. “I’ve slept in the same bed as you already.” You sit on the bed next to him, reaching up and combing your hair through the sweaty tendrils. “I literally woke up on top of you, if I’m going to get it, I’ll get it whether you sleep in here tonight or not.”

He grumbles, but ultimately doesn’t put up that big of a fight, knowing that if he doesn, he’ll lose. 

“Do you wanna take a shower?” You mumble, still letting your digits card through his hair.

“Are you trying to tell me I stink?” He tries to laugh but it comes out more as a cough and you can’t help but want to wrap him up in your arms and take any and all of the pain that he could be feeling away.

“No, you actually smell really good for being sick, but you have a lot of dried sweat on you from your fever.” You smile down at him, seeing him give you a lazy, lopsided grin in return.

“Can I take a bath?” He asks, eyes lighting up at the prospect of being able to sit down but still get the sweat off of him.

“Yeah, that’ll work, bubs.” You don’t even think about the pet name until it slips out of your mouth. You want to take it back, scared that he’ll hate it.

All your worries, along with any trace of regret, washes away when you see his smile grow, the dimples popping deep into his cheeks.

“If I put bubbles in the water so that you can’t see anything, will you wash my hair?” He questions, and there’s no way that you’re going to say no to him. And you realize that it’s not just because he’s sick. It’s because it’s just so easy to give into him, to want to give him everything that he asks for, just about no matter what it is.

You’re not going to let him know just how easily that you want to agree with him, though, so you drag it out just a little longer. :You’re really milking this for all it’s worth aren’t you?”

“I mean, I guess. I don’t know.” He sighs, looking like he’s trying to find the right words. You stay quiet, waiting for him to find the ones that he’s searching for. “I just really like it when you play with my hair, and I’m assuming that it’ll feel even better if you were to wash my hair.” His cheeks flush crimson. “Just really like having your hands in my hair, I guess.”

You feel like you’re going to explode with the overflow of emotions that you’re currently experiencing, so you decide not to drag it out any more than you already have, knowing that you’ll regret it if you do. “Fine, yeah, H. I’ll wash your hair for you.”

The way that his eyes light up makes it all the more worth it. You’d do anything to see him have that look on his face more often. You used to see a lot more of that, before things started happening that scared him. You found yourself wishing, more often than not, that he had never had someone find his address, and that he had never had people hold him at knife point. He had been slightly less open after that, kind of like he didn’t trust that many people anymore. And, even though you hadn’t admitted it since you were pretending to hate everything about him, you had missed the way that his eyes would sparkle at the simplest things, and how he would be the first to jump at the idea of a night out.

“Thank you!” He lunges up from his spot on the bed to hug you, wrapping you in his arms and not letting go for a moment.

After letting him keep you in his embrace for what you deem is long enough, you push him towards the bathroom.

“Go get the bath ready, I’ll go get you some clothes.” You nudge him, but then realize something. Before you walk out, you take his hands in yours, sliding his rings off this nimble fingers one by one until they’re all in your palms. “I’ll take these to your room and put them up, alright?”

“Yeah, do you still have yours?” You nod, pointing to the rose ring on the dresser, sitting right next to his Cartier ring on the chain. He smiles, then waddles into the bathroom.

You make your way to his room and rifle through his suitcase, trying to find something that isn’t another pair of sweatpants or swimming trunks. You want him to be comfortable but not too hot, and you don’t know if he’d be comfortable in just boxers. 

You end up finding a pair of shorts at the very bottom. You grab those and some boxers, along with a hoodie of his for yourself, before heading back to your room.

You don’t hear the water running when you enter/ “Are you ready, H?” 

“Yeah, you’re good!” You slip on the hoodie before entering the bathroom. You place his clothes on the counter, out of the way from everything, and come sit on the floor next to the tub. 

The water and the bubbles come up to the bottom of his butterfly tattoo. You trace it with your eyes, and before you can even think about what in the world you’re doing, your hand is reaching out to trace it. You stop yourself halfway there and look up at him, your cheeks aflame.

“Go ahead.” He urges. “You can touch.”

You let your hand travel the distance to his abdomen. You begin to trace the lines of the butterfly. The wings, the patterns, the antenna. You can feel the muscles in his stomach clench as you venture towards the bottom of the wings, so you travel back upwards with your hand. 

After you finish tracing what seems to be every line in the tattoo, you look up at him, slowly moving your hand north, but stopping slightly above the butterfly. Once he gives his nod of approval, you move up to the swallows, loving how they look on him. 

Before you’re even done with those, he nods again, urging you to continue. So, you do just that, tracing the lettering on his body and moving down his arm to run over the ship, the rose, the hands. You trace everything that you can, ending at the little cross tattooed on his hand. 

“You missed a few.” He rasps, and you quirk your brow in confusion. The only ones that you know of that could have been missed are the ones submerged under the water. 

He doesn’t say anything, just lifts up his arm to show you the tattoos. You immediately reach back out, tracing over the bird cage and the masks, along with the lettering there. You can feel his body shiver at your touch, and you can’t help but mimic the action. The feeling of his skin under your own is electrifying.

“They’re all so beautiful, H.” You whisper, not completely trusting your voice yet.

“Thank you.” His voice isn’t much higher than yours.

You shake your head, trying to rid your head of the thoughts of him. You clear your throat and reach for the shampoo bottle. You pour a generous amount into your hand and begin to lather it into his hair, massaging his scalp with your fingers as you do so.

He lets out a sound that’s a mix between a pleased sigh and a moan and you almost choke on the air that you’re filling your lungs with.

“Feels so good.” He mumbles, letting his eyes slip shut. You can’t help but smile at him, the way that he looks so peaceful, so relaxed and utterly himself that all you can do is grin at him.

“Does it?” You inquire, knowing for a fact that it does, just wanting to keep the conversation going for a little longer. There’s something about the raspiness in his voice that makes you never want to stop hearing it.

“Yeah, feels better than just about anything else I’ve ever experienced.” This time, he lets out a groan that’s so close to a growl that you have to take a moment to breathe.

“I’m glad.” You all but squeak.

After you rinse his hair out and begin to apply the conditioner to his hair, he looks up at you. “Hey, mind if I tell you something?”

“Yeah, go ahead, bubs. You can tell me anything.”

He seems to mull it over in his head for a moment and then speaks up again. “Promise not to get weird or anything?”

You’re beginning to get slightly worried. Part of you is scared that he’s going to tell you that he killed someone and now he needs help hiding the body or something extreme like that. Although, if he asked, you definitely would help him, that’s just the kind of friend that you are. “Yeah, I promise.”

He looks up at you through his lashes, making sure that he’s holding eye contact with you. “I kinda, um, like you.”

You smile, he’s so dramatic for no reason. “I kinda like you, too. You’re not as awful as I thought you were.”

“Thank you, but that’s not really what I meant by that.” He has a slight grimace on his face, like he’s scared that what comes out of his mouth next will hurt him in some way.

“What did you mean then?” He still seems hesitant, scared even. “You can tell me, bubs. I don’t bite.”

He takes a deep breath, settling himself. “I meant, I have feelings. For you.” You feel like your heart stops. All the breath is sucked from your lungs. Harry Styles? Likes you? “I don’t know for sure when they turned from ‘oh, she’s pretty and seems sweet’ to ‘I Wish that she didn’t hate me so maybe I’d have a chance’, but they did.” You feel him reach out and take your hand in yours, and all the emotions running through your body threaten to spill out. “And, trust me, I know that I treated you like shit and I don’t deserve you or your love but I just had to tell you.”

“Are you telling me that Harry Styles has a crush on me?” You ask, slightly chuckling.

“If that’s what you wanna call it, yeah.” He says, cheeks getting more and more red by the second.

You shake your head, not wanting to get too excited. He had a fever. Fevers can cause confusion and can make people think things that they don’t mean. “You don’t mean that. You have a fever, you'll feel different when you wake up in the morning.”

His face falls, and you immediately want to take back what you said. “I promise you that I won’t.”

“How do you know that?” You don’t think you could just forget the words that he’s saying to you.

“Because I didn’t just start feeling this way.” Relief surges through your body, and you can feel the tears start to prick at your eyes.

“Really?” You really won’t be able to handle it if this is all a side effect of the fever.

“Really.” He assures, brushing his thumb in soothing circles on your hand.

“Well, lucky for you, I happen to understand why you acted like you did and I think that you deserve me. I’m the one that doesn’t deserve you.” You had never thought that Harry would like you as any more than a friend, even before you actually met. All your friends had told you that you guys would be great together, you just had to meet him. You always had your doubts, though.

He scoffs, “Yeah, alright, we can pretend that’s true. You’re literally perfect.”

Your heart expands at his words, how does he always seem to know exactly what to say? “So are you, H. I’ve seen it for a long time, just didn’t wanna be the girl that loved you even though you hated me.”

HIs eyes widen and a smile covers his face. “You love me?”

“I’m getting there.” You admit.

“Come here.” He gestures for you to get closer.

You scramble towards him, getting as close as possible without physically climbing into the tub.

He leans in, closing the gap between the two of you, letting his lips ghost over yours for a moment before you pull back.

“Let’s rinse out your hair and then finish up and I’ll kiss you for real, alright?” There’s no way that you’ll be able to kiss him the way that you want to while he’s still sitting in the bathtub.

He nods and lets you continue. You rinse the conditioner out of his hair, then get up to leave the bathroom so that he can get dressed. Before you can walk away though, he grabs your hand and pulls you back. He makes a kissy face and you lean down to peck his lips, knowing that he’ll just pout until you give in.

Moments after you exit the bathroom, he walks out looking completely perfect. You can see the tiger tattoo on his thigh, and you make the mental note to kiss over it later.

“Kissy?” He asks, coming towards you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You sling your arms around his neck, slotting your hands into your hair. You nod, leaning in to kiss him, for real this time.

He wastes no time in kissing you back, this one holding a lot more passion than you ever thought a kiss could hold.

Your lips are molding with his, fitting together like they’re the missing piece that you needed to complete your puzzle.

His tongue slides over your bottom lip, asking permission, which you gladly give, opening your mouth and letting his tongue explore.

You pull away after a moment to catch your breath. Looking up at him, you see everything that you had been missing. “Promise me this doesn’t change when we go back to our real lives.”

He brings his hand up, cupping your cheek. You lean into your touch. “I promise you that, as long as you’ll have me,” he kisses your forehead,  “I’ll always be right here to tell you that you’re beautiful,” your temples, “that you’re all I can think about.” your cheeks. “And, as long as you’ll let me, I’ll kiss you over and over again.” He finally lets his lips glide over yours again.

After he pulls away, you breathe, “Good, because I don;t think I’d be able to go back to normal after that.”

“Neither could I.” He assures you. “Come on, love, let’s go lay down.”

With that, you crawl into bed next to Harry, cuddling into his side. After a moment, he decides you're not close enough, pulling you in until your head is on his chest and your leg is thrown over his thighs. 

You smile in content as he kisses your forehead. Who would have thought that you’d be in this place, with him? Never in a million years could you have dreamed this up for yourself. And honestly, if someone had told you a mere weeks ago that you would be kissing Harry and falling asleep next to him, you would have laughed in their face, probably even asked them if they had gone mental.

But now, here you were, laying cuddled up with the man that makes your entire world seem to light up, and you couldn’t be happier. It had been a rocky road getting here, but you would go through that day on the yacht a million times as long as you ended up back here, held tightly in his arms.

Listening to the beat of his heart, to the way that his breaths are evening out die to the comfort that having you near him brings, you drift off to sleep

*

You’re being shaken awake much too earlier, and you turn to gripe at whoever chose to wake you up. But then you realize that it’s Harry, and your face immediately softens.

“Hey, you.” He says, pecking your nose.

“Hey, why are we up so early?” You grumble.

He chuckles. “We’ve got a plane to catch.” You audibly groan, probably a lot more dramatic than it has to be. “Come on, it’s time to get out stuff together. Gotta go back to the real world.”

You sigh, not wanting to go, but you know that you have to, so you stumble out of bed and get all your stuff together. 

You scramble to ensure that everything’s ready, even making sure that you clasp your new necklace on your neck and slide the new ring on your finger.

Once you zip up your bag and stand up, wracking your brain to make sure that everything is in order, Harry comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you. You immediately lean into his embrace.

“You look really fucking cute in my clothes.” He mumbles, pressing his face into your hair.

“Why thank you, never got your tour hoodie, thought I’d see how it looked.” You smirk, knowing that you had, in fact, received a tour hoodie, you just hadn’t worn it yet.

He says nothing about that, though, just groaning, “It looks fantastic.” before pushing away from your body.

“Are you ready?” He asks, looking over all the packed bags, and then over to you. HIs eyes stop at the ring around your neck, heart swelling in pride that you’re wearing his ring.

“Yeah, don’t wanna go, but I know I have to. I’ve gotta go back to work.” You groan.

“I meant what I said last night, you know?” He blurts, and you can’t help but feel relieved. He had been acting like he meant it, but the verbal confirmation made you feel even better.

“Which part?” You say, playing coy.

“All of it.” He promises. “Every single word.”

You hum in content, walking back into his arms and pressing into his chest. “I mean what I said too.”

You pull away after a moment, walking to pack your stuff into the car.

After dropping off the rental car and going through the motions of getting ready and boarding the plane, you finally sit down, right next to Harry. This time, though, you aren’t dreading the plane ride.

*

After the plane lands, Harry throws you his keys, telling you that Sam and Lexi were supposed to have dropped the car off with his extra set an hour prior. He assures you that he’ll get your luggage.

“I can tell you’re tired, sweets, go on to the car, okay?” You nod in agreement before heading out to the parking lot to find his car.

On the ride back to your apartment, you doze off in the passenger seat, his hand on your knee and fingers tracing random patterns lulling you to sleep.

He wakes you up by kissing all over your face, and you must admit that it’s probably the best way for someone to wake you up. Well, not just anyone, just him.

He gets your bags from the trunk, walking you to the door. As you’re about to go inside, he kisses your cheek, letting his mouth linger there for a moment. “Can I come over later? Gotta put up my stuff and check the mail, but I wanna see you again.”

You smile. You’d like to see him again, too. “Yeah, sure. Just come over whenever.” 

He leans down and gives you a quick peck on the corner of your mouth before heading home.

In the time that you’re alone, you put everything away that you ended up not wearing and throw the dirty clothes in the wash.

As you’re fixing yourself dinner (which is arguably enough for two, but that’s just a coincidence...maybe), you hear a knock on your door. 

You rush over, checking through the hole to make sure that it’s Harry. When you open the door, he immediately sweeps you up into a hug. “God, I missed you.”

“You were gone for less that three hours, H.” You breathe.

“I know, but I still missed you.” He pulls back from you slightly, still keeping his arms wrapped around your waist. “Am I not allowed to miss my girl?”

Your heart skips a beat. “Your girl?”

“Um, fuck, I- you don’t have to- don’t feel pressured.” You cut him off by placing your lips on his.

“Calm down, H.” You urge.

“It’s just, I don’t know, do you want to be my girlfriend?” He asks, eyes looking down between the two of you at his shoes. 

“God, yes.” You clear your throat, realizing how desperate you probably sounded. “I mean, yeah. But I’m not gonna be able to be like all your other girlfriends were.”

“What do you mean by that?” He wonders.

“I can’t just drop everything and come with you while you’re on tour.” You give him an apologetic look. You know how much he loves having his girl with him while he’s performing. “I can’t go on excessive vacations with you, and by excessive I mean for months at a time. I don’t get paid to stand around and look pretty like the rest of them did.”

“I don’t want you to be like the rest of them were. I want you to be you.” He says, stroking your cheek with his hand. “Plus, I mean, you could technically come on tour with me as part of my crew if you wanted.” He suggests. “Be one of the photographers, or help me get everything ready. That could be your new job if you were interested.”

“Harry, I couldn’t ask you to do that.” You argue. “That’s just another person that’ll have to be paid. I didn’t do anything to get those positions anyway.” You know that all of the people on his crew were exceptionally talented, and that just wasn’t you.

“You let me see how wonderful you are at photography, that’s what you did.” You’re surprised that he remembers that. You had only shown him your work once. And it was the only time when the two of you were enemies that he didn’t have anything rude to say.

“H…” You’re still not sure about the idea. Of course, it would be fun, but you really have no business being there.

“Please? I don’t think I can go months on end without seeing you.” He whines. “I could barely go three hours.”

“Fine.” You give in. “But only if I get to stand in the audience and watch the show at least a couple times.” You had always wanted to see one of his shows from the audience, to see how well he interacted with everyone.

“Deal.” He says without hesitation.

“Alright, fine. I’ll go.” You concede. He does a mini celebration, shimmying his body slightly.

“You wanna go tell our friends after dinner, baby?” You suggest.

“Baby? I like it.” He says, blushing because of the pet name.

“I mean, you are my boyfriend now.” You reason, but also just liking the way that it sounds coming out of your mouth.

“That’s true, love. And yeah, let’s go tell our friends after dinner.” He leads you to the kitchen, fixing the both of you a plate and sitting down with you to eat.

*

After you clean up from dinner, you head out to the bar that your friends told you to meet them at.

You walk into the bar hand in hand with Harry. He sits in the booth first, dragging you in after him. 

“Do you wanna tell them?” You lean in and whisper into Harry’s ear.

He just nods, turning to Lexi and Sam. “Um, guys, we’re kinda, um, dating.” 

“Okay.” Sam says. Lexi nods, looking completely unfazed.

“What?” How are they being so calm about this?

“We figured it would happen. The chemistry between the two of you is impeccable. You had more passion towards each other when being dickheads than either of you have for anything else. It was just a matter of time.” Lexi explains, as if it’s completely obvious.

How they knew it was going to happen, you have no clue. You couldn’t even see yourself ending up with him. But maybe it was because you didn’t have the outside perspective. 

*

A few months later, you’re on a tour bus to the first venue, and you can already feel the adrenaline running through your veins. 

The very first show, you watch from the audience, taking in the scene. Seeing how his fans react, how he works the audience.It was good to study the subject before photographing them. 

Also, though, getting to watch your man live his dream is pretty exhilarating. And getting to go along for the ride with him is even better.

*

Thank you for reading!! You can come discuss with me here!!

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[softjaehyvn]

[dusk till dawn ; w.yh]

[genre ; angst, fluff]

[warnings ; accusation of cheating]

- requests open ! check out this post !

You truly couldn’t believe that this was happening.

His eyes shining with tears; some of them rolling down his cheeks and softly landing on his neck and getting soaked by his shirt. This single moment was breaking your heart and you knew exactly that he was feeling the same.

“Xuxi, please, can you listen to me for a minute? Let me explain”, you told him. You trying to keep your voice soft and steady so he wouldn’t see how you felt at this moment. You weren’t fine and you felt like you had done the worst thing ever by making Yukhei cry. 

Yukhei always had been a very vulnerable person. Easy to break if you knew his weakness – his insecurity about not being good enough. The only people he truly trusted were his group mates, you and one girl from middle school back from Hong Kong. 

Now he – well more like Lihua, who was his best friend long before you knew Yukhei – accused you of cheating on him with some guy – more specifically, Dejun. That wasn’t true; all you were doing was secretly planning out his birthday party. 

Of course, Lihua had to ruin everything by taking pictures of you laughing with the young man at a coffee shop and checking some more ideas as inspirations for your boyfriend’s birthday party where all his members were going to be at. Now, when Yukhei showed you those pictures on his phone, you couldn’t believe that there was someone who wanted to ruin your relationship. Lihua was well aware of what was going on between Dejun and you – but she pretended like she didn’t. 

“What do you want to explain? Everything is obvious – you seem like having a lot of fun with Dejun, don’t you?” Yukhei’s voice was loud and angry… or was it disappointment?

“Baby, please listen to me”, you tried once again, taking the phone out of his hand to place it on the table. You finally put your hands on his cheeks, brushing his tears away. “If you listen to me, you’ll understand.”

Your heart broke into so many pieces when he backed off to grab his phone and jacket and left your shared apartment with no other word. 

If he just would have listened to you.

two days ago

“Alright, ready for more headaches and caffeine overdose because of exhaustion?”, Dejun asked you with a grin when you two entered the coffee shop you two loved to stay in and plan your boyfriend’s birthday. 

“Yeah, sure. Caffeine overdose – we love it”, you giggled and sat down at your usual spot. Dejun took out his MacBook and opened the website you two had last visited. “So, we just need to start ordering everything, right? Did you get the money from the boys?”, you asked him to which he nodded. 

“Everything on your bank account. I thought it’d be better if you’d have it to order everything. We’re going to get everything today, right?”, you smiled lightly when you nodded.

“I guess? His birthday is in two weeks and I think that’s enough time to prepare everything, right? I mean, we already planned everything out”, Dejun nodded as an answer, so you both decided to get everything already so that would be finally done as well. 

Then it was all simply about waiting for the packages to arrive. Dejun and you didn’t want to skip your little coffee meet-up’s so you continued going to the small shop whenever the young man had time to. However, little did you know that Lihua ended up going to the same café as you. 

now

“Alright, good, I’m glad that he’s safe at the dorm”, you sighed and nervously walked around the small apartment, trying to process what had just happened. It had been around an hour since Yukhei hurriedly had left the apartment, leaving you all by yourself there. 

“I’ll take care of him, don’t worry about him”, Kun reassured you and the knowledge that your boyfriend was somewhere safe made you feel a little less worried. Of course, all you could think of was making him understand that you weren’t cheating on him with Dejun, however, you decided to let Yukhei just in peace for a few days and try reaching out for him then. 

You didn’t expect him to block you on every social media account possible so you just couldn’t reach out to him. It was a surprise for you – Yukhei never blocked you, no matter how extreme your fight was. However, you assumed that it was related to Lihua as the girl had recently moved to Seoul for her university and spent a lot of time with your boyfriend. 

You never had a reason to believe Yukhei might be cheating on you. You let him have his freedom and fun with his childhood best friend and members whenever he wanted and needed it – and it was making you mad that it only needed a picture where you were spending time with one of your closest friends to make him feel insecure about himself. 

You always trusted him, never doubted when he said that Lihua was just an old friend who needed to find a connection in a new city and country. 

A relationship was built over trust and love. 

You just weren’t quite sure what you could have done wrong that he didn’t trust you. 

Two days before it was finally Yukhei’s birthday, a lot of packages arrived at your place. Knowing that those were everything you needed for the small party, you called Dejun to let him know that everything arrived and that he should inform the rest to help you carry the stuff to the company.

However, it wasn’t Dejun who picked up. It was your boyfriend. 

“So, you still have the guts to call him? You’re so messed up, Y/N, I can’t believe I trusted you”, Yukhei said, his voice was so cold that it slightly terrified you. 

“Xuxi, love, it isn’t what you think it is… just give him the phone”, you asked him, but never got a reply. You then noticed that he had hung up and sighed. You had no idea who you could call when you remembered that you also had Kun’s phone number saved. 

You couldn’t call him, though. If Yukhei picked up on Dejun’s call, he most likely was at the company or in the dorm. You assumed that Kun was with him which is why you just texted Kun to let one of the boys know that you needed help with everything you and Dejun had ordered. 

He replied quickly that he would ask the younger members to come over and help you out, it would just take around two hours as they were recording at that moment. You felt a little sorry for stressing the younger ones out but it was necessary. 

“Thank you guys again. I’m so sorry for pushing your limits. As soon as we get to the company, I’ll treat you to some food”, you promised the young members of the group. 

“Sure!”, Jeno accepted for all of the six boys and continued walking carefully towards the car. “I hope this will make hyung happy.”

“Was he doing alright today?”, you asked nervously, you were constantly worried about him, especially after you had called Dejun which Yukhei had picked up. Jaemin shook his head, though. 

“Not really. He seemed so off today, always messed up the choreography and we just couldn’t get forward today. Seems like this whole thing burdens him. Taeyong hyung is all around him, though, don’t worry”, Jaemin answered. Knowing Taeyong, you breathed out in relief. 

“Thank you, Jaemin”, you thanked him with a soft smile, this one – unlike the ones before – actually reached your eyes. “I hope I can make him understand that Dejun and I have nothing going on… I don’t even know what made him lose his trust. I never did anything that could be the reason for him to doubt me.”

“I’m sure you will get through this… but I think you should try to keep Lihua noona away from him because I think she has something to do with this. She kept on coming into our practice room and interrupting him because she wasn’t sure about something? It was so weird, she kept on asking him but it was just weird that she didn’t ask anyone else like Kun was in his studio or Dejun was also there who could help her”, Jaemin explained. 

That got you into thinking. Lihua was the one who sent those pictures to Yukhei. She was all clingy to your boyfriend. You never said anything to Yukhei as you didn’t want to seem like a jealous girlfriend. 

“I guess, I never noticed that she was like this… I’ll see what I will do”, you told him and smiled before you got into the car. Then you started driving to the company building where everything would be stored until Yukhei’s birthday. When you arrived back at home, you just sat there, thinking about Yukhei and that was the only thing you did that day.

Finally, it was the day where you could go to the company building and would decorate everything like you and Dejun had planned everything out. Dejun had practice, so you purposely asked Lihua to help you out. Along with her, you had asked Kun to come over, so you could keep yourself from directly confronting her. 

“Thanks for helping me out”, you smiled; it was a fake smile, though. “I couldn’t have finished this all by myself.”

“No problem. Xuxi is my childhood best friend, I’d do anything for him”, Lihua just brushed it off. 

“So… anything?”, you chuckled but remained silent when you received a warning glance from Kun. However, you couldn’t hold yourself back and asked another question because you wanted to know. “Why did you send Yukhei those pictures of me and Dejun?”

Lihua widened her eyes, not expecting that question. She had thought that it was all over with you and Yukhei; she thought her plan worked out. 

“I just thought he should know that you two spent time together. He told me that he wasn’t sure where you went so when I saw you there, I decided to let him know so he wouldn’t be worried.”

That was a lie. You had told Yukhei that you would go to your favorite coffee shop to work on something for university. The university part was a lie, yes, but he did know that you were at the coffee shop. 

“That was none of your business, Lihua. You knew exactly that I was going to meet up with Dejun just for Yukhei’s birthday. However, you decided to be a little bitch about it and now my boyfriend thinks I was cheating on him, while I was just trying to make this day special for him”, you got mad with every single second you have been talking to Yukhei’s best friend and at some point, Kun just stepped in. The male suggested that you should check up on Yukhei and see if he still ignores you while he and Lihua would continue decorating the practice room. 

So, you did as you were told, still not calmed down while you walked through the whole building and searching for Yukhei. Your boyfriend was recording right now, so you decided to ask the producer if you could just sit there on the couch, to which he agreed. Most of the workers around knew you and you were comfortable with just sitting there with them, listening to your boyfriend practicing his lines before recording. 

When he noticed you, he didn’t react quite the way you expected him to. Yukhei was furious when he got out of the small room and you jumped up when you saw him walk towards you. “What the hell are you doing here?”, he asked; even the producer startled at his harsh, loud tone. 

“I just wanted to see you… you haven’t come home for the past two weeks so I was worried about you”, you murmured, but it was loud enough for him to hear. “So, now you were worried about me? You didn’t think of me when you secretly met up with Dejun!“

“It wasn’t… It wasn’t what you were thinking, Yukhei. Please just… listen to me and just come with me, yeah? I have to show you something, then you’ll understand”, you begged, taking his hand into yours. You had received a message from Kun that everyone had arrived at the practice room and decorating was also done, so you could finally take your boyfriend there.

“Please.”

Yukhei sighed and nodded then. You would never speak like this if you didn’t know what you were talking about.

You smiled lightly and took his hand to bring him towards the practice room. “What are we doing here, Y/N?”, he asked you and you just shushed him. 

“We’re comin’ in!”, you yelled and quickly pulled your boyfriend inside when everyone started yelling “happy birthday!” Yukhei was startled when the chaos broke off. 

“This… what?”, Yukhei just blurted out. “This was what you’ve been hiding from me?”

“And this was why Dejun and I always met up secretly”, you explained. “I couldn’t tell you because I still wanted it to be a surprise so… yeah.” You chuckled lightly. “Look, I never meant to do any harm. I just didn’t want to ruin the surprise and Dejun was so helpful with organizing and choosing everything for this because I wanted you to have a special day. I didn’t think that someone would just take our pictures and send them to you so you could find out. I’m sorry for lying to you and I’m so sorry-“

Yukhei interrupted you by placing his lips on yours, just stopping you from talking and you finally leaned into the kiss. Before he stepped away he softly murmured an “I love you” and finally turned towards his birthday cake and blew off the candles. 

Wong Yukhei finally realized that you would always love him unconditionally forever; be with him from dusk till dawn.

hi there! i finally managed to finish this one off! i really liked the idea of the plot i wrote for the song suggestion “dusk till dawn” by sia and zayn by anon! this also kind of is a late lucas day post which i didn’t manage to finish on time. so, i truly hope u enjoyed and please like, reblog and share! it would mean a lot to me!

tags ; @wownajaemin​ @n8dlesoupguk​ @hunjins​ (let me know if u want to be tagged to future posts!)

[thebadboyfanclub]

I Got You (Napoleon x Reader)

This is the third time i’m trying to post this fucking thing, tumblr won’t let the posts I do from my laptop under search results but they will show posts I do from my phone. Anyways, enjoy!

“This better be worth it Waverly”

“Ohhh (y/n) dear trust me it will. Let me introduce you to your new colleagues”

As she walked in the room with one big desk and a few chairs, three of them were occupied by two men and one woman, probably in her 20s. Her eyes however focused on one particular man.... The man that was one of the reasons you thrived in the illegal field.

“This is Miss Gaby Teller, the most important person in this case, next to her is mister Illya  Kuryakin, her supposed fiance and-”

“Napoleon Solo. The thief”

She bitterly interrupted Waverly, he was of course aware of (y/n)’s past with Napoleon, it was one of the reasons he requested her to join this case, keeping from her that piece of information of course. 

“(y/f/n), you’ve grown up”

“you got old”

“Right, now that everyone knows each other, (y/n) please take a seat and i’ll explain the plan”

As she took a seat from the other side of the table, directly in front of Napoleon, she tried to focus on Waverly and ignore Napoleons intense stare that almost drilled a hole on the side of her head.

“Ok, so since Illya is here to be the love interest for Gaby and Napoleon is here to just get some Italian legs in the air, what am I here for?”

“You dear (y/l/n), you will be portraying miss Brigitte Richard, an heir to the Richard well know Cigar, he is a close friend of mine and graciously agreed to take his daughters name”

“Won’t they know what his daughter looks like?”

“His daughter has been kept away from the public eye and she had transferred in Britain during high school, that’s also where she went to College and recently decided to stay there. I will give you a file of hers to study. Your goal is to get close to Victoria vinciguerra during the event, maybe even seem interested in mister Solo, of course for show, nothing more”

“Of course, everything is only just for show when it has to do with Napoleon”

-

(Y/n) was dressed in her best attire, her long red dress that hugged her waist so beautifully, of course some silver diamond earrings on her ears and her hair up in a perfect updo, her heels were comfortable at least, but if she had to run the dress would not hold for long until it gives a show to anyone around her, she prays that it didn’t have to happen, or she would be royally screwed,

“Miss Richard , your father was right you do have your mothers eyes”

What a fool, she thought, this is who she was hiding from? a woman that complimented her for the resemblance in her eyes.... she wasn’t even close to being related to this people. However, on the outside, she smiled brightly at the tall blonde lady

“Thank you so much, god rest her soul she at least she was generous enough to pass them down to me, my dads brown eyes are great but a tad bit boring don’t you think?”

The blonde gave a tight lip smile to her comment. Of course, if she knew that her real parent had never seen this type of luxury, the lady wouldn’t even spare a glance.

“I don’t believe we’ve met, Victoria Vinciguerra”

“Brigitte Richard, my father made sure to keep me away from all of... this, he wanted his kids to be humble”

“I’m really sorry for your brother”

“It’s alright, I miss him but... c’est la vie”

(Y/n) had almost swallowed the file Waverly had given her, she even looked into the cigar company, just in case anyone asked questions. As the two ladies kept talking, she started hearing commotion,she turned her head  towards the direction it was coming from and saw one familiar man falling to the ground.

“What is going on over there?”

“Excuse me dear”

Victoria started walking towards him and of course (y/n) followed. When they finally reached the crowd that was already forming a circle around him, there he was fanning himself the invitation dramatically, in true Napoleon fashion. (Y/n) kissed her teeth in annoyance, he was supposed to discreetly blend in, not cause a god damn ruckus the minute he walks in.

“Thank you, Thank you”

“I wonder what they do to people without invitations”

That is when she decided to take actions. She weaseled her way out of the crowd and kneeled in front of him to his level, offering her glass of champagne to him.

“Are you alright sir?”

“Yes, thank you very much Darling”

“I’m Victoria Vinciguerra, she is (y/f/n). I do believe an apology is in order. I’ll take it from here”

You helped him get up on his feet and took two steps to lean in and talked to her.

“of course miss Vinciguerra... next one is mine”

She giggled as she walked away in triumphant. To be frank the rest of your job was to keep an eye on these two, yet she could still say she completed the most important part.What she didn’t expect was the growing fire in the pit of her stomach that was directed to Victoria, looking at her talking to Napoleon so nonchalantly made her teeth hurt and her breasts ached with rage.

“It’s such a lovely day to be so pouty miss”

“Well sir... there is nothing really here for me to smile about”

“Not even me?”

“I think I am better off being the reason for someone to smile”

“Roberto  Russo, charmed”

“Brigitte Richard”

Roberto was a handsome man, tall, light brown hair, hazel eyes, sharp jawline, full lips and extremely well dressed, no doubt he knew his way around women and money. What a better distraction and cover up than him?

What (y/n) had not calculated was Napoleon picking up at her “strategic” flirt and filling like punching the hell out of this pretentious little Italian boy that grew up spending daddy’s money. He restrained himself from walking over to her and taking her hand, guiding her away from everyone, keeping her all to herself.

“I saw you were talking to my aunt”

“Oh you are related to Victoria?”

“Yes, my dad is her brother. I actually haven’t spoken to her today, come with me?”

“How could I ever refuse?”

As he offered his arm she smiled and linked hers with his, walking over with her head held high as they got close to Napoleon and Victoria

“My dearest Roberto, how are you?”

she kissed her nephew at both of his cheeks and yet no smile was shown. She really was cold, Roberto however smiled brightly, feeling excited to show his knew “catch” to his aunt.

“I’m doing well... who might he be?”

“Jack Devinsky, Nice to meet you”

Roberto looked at Napoleon up and down, almost well not almost... judging him harshly. Napoleons sure looked rich but there were levels to how rich you were, especially when men judged one another.

“Roberto Russo. Well... aunt Victoria may I occupy you for a minute”

“Of course, anything for my nephew”

“It will only take a minute dear”

“I am counting”

She replied at him, he took her hand and placed a gentle kiss as he stared directly in her eyes, winking at her as she left her with Napoleon. They stood there in awkward silence for a few moments, they haven’t really spoken since the case started, (y/n) made sure to avoid him.

“You look stunning if that isn’t obvious”

“Thanks”

She said dryly. She barely even looked him in the eye, all she could see was that damn night, the night she lost everything, the night her heart shuttered, the night he showed her all the cruelty of the world he always talked about.

“You are mad at me”

“Do you blame me?”

“No, it still upsets me though”

“That sounds like a personal issue to me”

-

The event was a success. which meant (y/n) could finally relax and wear her pajamas, pour a drink for herself and lounge in the couch her room had. She still wore his necklace, the gold star necklace he had bought her way back when... she took the charm in her hands and felt the cold metal.

How much more could she take with him around? it took her so much time to heal and now here he was again, scratching the wounds she had closed up all by herself. She was pulled out of her thoughts when she heard a knock at her door. She got up to answer it and was met with the man of the hour.

“Napoleon”

“May I come in?”

She sighed before stepping aside to let him in. Even when all she wanted was to punch him in the face, her heart took over her and let him walk into her room and her life once again, even when she had swore to take revenge when she saw him again.

“What do you want?”

“To talk”

“About what?”

She was well aware she was snapping at him, could you blame her? He had swore to protect her, help her when she had nothing and no one, taught her everything and then one night she came home to find all his belongings missing... and that damn letter tore her apart, she didn’t sleep for days, she waited for him to return for months and yet he never did.

“(Y/n) I know-”

“YOU KNOW NOTHING

”her voice booming through the entire room, it was like a glass of emotions was overflowing, threating to spill and make a mess. He saw the pain in her face, her lower lips trembling, her hands forming fists... still what caught his eye was one thing, the necklace. She was wearing his necklace, after all these years she didn’t throw it away. He took a breath through his nose before continuing.

“(y/n) you have every right to be upset-”

“Damn right I do”

“Will you just listen?”

“listen to what Napoleon?! What?!What?!What?!”

Next thing that was heard was her glass smashing at the wall, Vodka dripping down and small pieces of glass going everywhere. Napoleon was shocked, he should have known this wouldn’t be easy, he had wanted to reach out to her over the years, he had even went through with finding her, yet every time he chickened out last minute and walked away from it. Now, here she was in pain, yelling and smashing things... she had become his enemy

“I’m sorry”

“You are sorry? Sorry? for what Napoleon? for leaving me? for doing it in such cruel way? for lying to me?”

“I never lied”

“You swore to me that you loved me, that you... cared”

There it was, tears. She couldn’t even control it, as her voice cracked and the waterfalls started, she didn’t also want to cover them, she wanted him to see what he had done... to hell with being the bigger person. He wanted to hug her, comfort her, make her feel loved but now all he could do was to try and reason with her.

“I had to leave”

“Why? What could possibly be the reason... money? paintings? women?”

“You know I would never cheat on you”

“Oh yeah, cause leaving our house in the middle of the night is so much better”

She tried wipe away her tears, silence falling between them once again. As a way to calm and hide her emotions, she kneeled and started picking up pieces of glass, her back turned to him. Napoleon went to her side and even when he wanted to pick her up and kiss her, he controlled his desire

“(Y/n) stop, you’ll cut yourself”

“I’m fine Napoleon”

“(Y/n) the maid can do it”

“I said I’m- FUCK”

a piece of sharp glass had cut her as she accidentally gripped it a bit too hard. Napoleon saw the blood and got up immediately to find some tissues, while (y/n) got on her feet and brought her hand close to her chest, closing it to a fist as a way to stop the pain. When Napoleon approached she turned her back once again

 “I said I’m fine”

“(Y/n) you are bleeding, let me care for you”

She had started crying again. As she turned around and opened her hand to him Napoleon gently placed the tissues on the wound, dabbing away the blood carefully.

“Why did you leave?”

“I thought I was protecting you, a way to keep you away from all of the things I was doing”

“Yet... here we are”

He looked up at her. Her lower lip was in between her teeth, tears freshly running down, her beautiful eyes were now red and puffy, her nose was running and he still found her heavenly.

“You kept the necklace”

“I tried throwing it away, or ponding it... I couldn’t find the courage... it’s too pretty”

“I tried coming back to you... multiple times”

“Why didn’t you do it?”

“I don’t know, I just didn’t”

She finally kept eye contact with him, getting lost once again in those ocean blue eyes, the eyes she looked at when they were laying naked on their bed, the eyes that looked at her when she woke up. With his one hand Napoleon slowly reached over and wiped a few tears with his thumb

“You are too pretty to cry over me”

“I missed you Napoleon”

She whispered looking down on the ground in embarrassment. She was everything he ever wanted, a woman that loved him and had his back and he tossed that all away, his intentions were pure yet the damage was gigantic. He hesitated for a minute, before taking her in his arms for a hug, her head nuzzling on his neck as she held on to him for the first time in what felt like centuries. Napoleon kissed her head, smelling her shampoo that was always the same, lavender.

“I missed you too munchkin”

She giggled at the nickname. Napoleon had met her when she was struggling to survive, she was this delicate little thing that looked everyone with kind eyes, yet once he got to know her he saw the passion, the fire, the potential she had to become something great, he didn’t want all that potential to go on illegal things that could possibly get her in jail or worse kill her. So from the beginning of the relationship he called her munchkin.

“Will we be alright?”

“I got you munchkin, I got you”

[dreamsmp-au-ideas]

Oh, that bit about Karl’s powers and XD’s company at the beginning of the overwatch timeline made the karlnapity brain go brrrrrrr, bro!! Very long post ahead!!!! And I know the chatfic is coming soon, and I totally understand if you wanna reserve the blog’s attention for that once it comes out because I am also extremely excited for it, so publish this whenever you want!! Also good luck with the title and summary!!

So like, it’s a few years after Overwatch fell, and Sapnap, Quackity, and Karl are more or less content! They feel for Sam and the other original members, they do, but Overwatch and the omnics honestly weren’t a very big part of their world. They all made it through the omnic crisis just fine, and now they’re just going about their lives in the relative peacetime. They’re even engaged, vague plans of a marriage someday cobbling together bit by bit, but they’re in no rush. They’re happy!

And then Karl finds out about this interesting experiment that’s looking into real, live, actual time travel. Like!! Karl was psyched enough when space travel started getting big again; he knows just about everything there is to know about Horizon One for someone who’s never been there. If time travel turns out to be real? Karl wants in, and he wants in now.

Sapnap and Quackity are half-convinced it’s a scam or a gimmick or something. Sure, they personally knew what amounted to a superhero team a few years ago, but there’s a difference between a small group of skilled fighters and literal time travel. Especially since it’s an XD-sponsored endeavor, Quackity is certain there’s some catch. If nothing else, it’s probably a way to waste a lot of people’s time and money to get XD some good press again.

But Karl is so excited to check it out, neither of them want to try particularly hard to shut him down. They decide they’ll keep an eye on it, obviously, just in case, but they wish Karl good luck and a good time. So he heads out with high hopes and a little suitcase, promising to call every night and to see them soon.

And for the first few days, it goes great! Karl does call them every day and talks for at least an hour about everything he’s learning about this theoretical time travel and how it’ll work: a ship called the Slipstream, which is supposed to use teleportation technology to travel between places in negative time, thus creating functional time travel. Sapnap and Quackity reserve their doubts, but Karl’s having the time of his life either way, and they’re glad to hear him so happy. Especially when he tells them that he gets to get in the ship and take it on a test flight tomorrow - not to try out the time travel yet, but just to make sure he knows how to fly it. Karl gets to fly a ship!! He’s gonna be an actual pilot!! He’s so excited!!!

Karl hangs up that night, clearly over the moon, and Sapnap and Quackity resolve themselves happily to at least four hours on the phone tomorrow night, hearing all about the flight and how it went and what Karl is looking forward to.

And the next night, the hour comes, and Sapnap and Quackity settle on the couch with snacks and drinks, ready for a good long listening session. They wait for the phone to ring. And wait. And wait.

After an hour, they reason that maybe the test flight took longer than expected. Maybe Karl is tired out from flying it. Maybe Karl got distracted. Maybe he forgot to charge his phone. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Either way, it’s not like they had agreed that he’d call at this specific time. So there’s no need to worry. They’re not worried.

Another hour passes. And then another, and another, and soon midnight finds Sapnap and Quackity, sitting in the kitchen with mugs of tea long since cooled, watching a phone that won’t ring. Looking up the experiment or the Slipstream doesn’t bring up any bad news, which sets them both a bit at ease; no news is good news, right? At least for now?

Uneasily, they decide to go to bed. Karl will have to have called or at least texted by morning, surely. And if not, they’ll call him, and then they’ll call the number they were given for questions about the experiment. There’s no reason to worry.

Despite having no reason to worry, when morning comes without word from Karl, Sapnap and Quackity worry. When they call Karl, it goes straight to voicemail. When they call the number for the experiment, it’s disconnected. When they look up the experiment and the Slipstream and XD in general, they notice what they hadn’t last night: not only is there no news, there’s no mention of the experiment. The website Karl had learned about the experiment from is gone. XD’s website makes no mention of time travel. Even with all of Quackity’s investigative power, as far as the world wide web is concerned, there has never been a ship or shuttle with the name Slipstream.

It’s like the whole project never existed at all, and Karl Jacobs along with it.

Thus begins Sapnap and Quackity’s investigation. They call anyone who will listen, telling them that Karl is missing and it’s almost certainly the fault of XD and his company and please please please help them find out what happened. They become the most annoying thorn in XD’s side in months, calling every division in every company several times over, demanding answers. At one point, they’re discreetly contacted and offered hush money if they just drop it, and Sapnap has never screamed so loud in his life as when he told them exactly what they could do with that money. Quackity immediately tries to follow up, tracing the offer to gather proof that something must have happened if they’re trying to cover it up, and only runs into a brick wall. XD is infuriatingly good at covering his tracks.

What finally marks the turning point in their investigation is XD’s most common underestimation: common human decency between strangers. Quackity and Sapnap are anonymously contacted by someone who was working in the experiment’s division and heard about their search, someone who has access to Slipstream plans and blueprints. Through them, Quackity and Sapnap learn that Karl vanished because he was pressured into activating the time travel function on his test flight, despite the fact that it wasn’t ready yet. They’re also given early blueprints for the Slipstream, which include some of the plans for the time travel mechanism.

It’s this mechanism that Sam is able to study and rework and reverse engineer, eventually leading to the development of the chronal accelerator, which should, in theory, bring Karl back.

And it had been a rough time for Quackity and Sapnap, spending nearly all of their free time trying to gather resources and to find the truth and then to help Sam however he needed. They’ve undergone their respective breakdowns, supporting each other through them: Sapnap kept Quackity from burying himself too deeply in his work and his research, getting him to sleep and eat regularly. In turn, Quackity made sure he was available for Sapnap to talk and vent to, redirecting his steadily burning fury to constructive outlets. They’ve settled into an uneasy but manageable rhythm of getting through the days, haunted though they are by the uncertainty of where Karl is and when (if) they’ll see him again. And with the invention of the chronal accelerator, they’re both struggling with just how much hope they can afford. If this doesn’t work - if they get so close to finally getting Karl back, only to fail… it’s not something they want to think about.

So when Sam calls them down to his workshop, saying that he thinks he has a working model to recover their fiance, they arrive hand-in-hand, Quackity guarded, Sapnap cautiously optimistic. They gather around the workbench, surrounding Sam’s invention, a mechanical-looking harness with a glowing, green-and-purple spiral at its heart. Sam looks to them, hovering one hand over the activation switch, waiting for their signal.

They share a glance. Sapnap squeezes Quackity’s hand, steady and secure. No matter what, it promises. No matter what, I’ll still be here. I’m with you.

They both nod to Sam, and he flips the switch.

The harness hums and crackles to life, its spiral glowing brighter and starting to spin. Sam stands at the ready, watching six different monitors to ensure nothing goes wrong. Sapnap and Quackity lean on each other, nearly holding their breath, eyes glued to the accelerator.

Slowly, a figure fizzles into existence. Half-transparent, arms curled close to their chest, they glance around the room, looking lost and unsure, until they meet eyes with Sapnap and Quackity. Then their eyes go wide, one hand rising to their mouth, hanging open in shock.

Sapnap? says the ghost of Karl Jacobs. Quackity?

And in the next second, the ghost comes back to life, lungs filling with air, color rushing to his cheeks, solidity returning to his form. And Karl gasps, coughs, leans forward with one hand clapped over the accelerator, and his gaze doesn’t leave his fiances for a second. He extends one shaking arm, reaching for his fiances with an open hand. The tension shatters.

Sapnap closes the distance in half a second, Quackity barely a breath behind. The fiances collapse against the table as the two of them all but tackle Karl. Because Karl is real, Karl is alive, Karl is here in front of them. The lingering doubts that have dogged their footsteps vanish. The fear in their hearts that three engagement rings would become two wedding rings dissolves. The aching absence they’ve felt between them for months melts away in tears and sobs and bone-crushing hugs, the three of them relishing the hard-regained closeness, pressing together as the weight of the world lifts from all of their shoulders.

They’re together again.