#anyway this show is not good these contestants almost all sound terrible

[liu-yu-xin]

Why does ningning have so much vocal fry when shes speaking in mandarin ??

[maxphilippa]

babe wake up new GKGG AU designs just dropped

I should have done these long time ago but my brain just doesn't want to cooperate ig

You can find some info of them under the "Read More"!:

Marshmallow: Marshmallow was an influencer back then, even before the show began. Unlike in canon (Canon Bow), her friendship with Knife and Mic is explicit, since Marsh was a part of their friend group and she got to know II thanks to Mic because of her fangirling about it. She quickly got interesed on the show. She's an young adult that is, and was pretty close with the current Green Gamers polycule + Taco. Marsh is sweet and kind, shy as well, but she does like to have fun and once she wants to prove herself, she's reckless, to the point where others could call her dumb. Cobs didn't want her getting in trouble/hurt for getting in the middle of one of the challenges, but once he got the call from ADAM, he ended up accepting Marsh's presence in the show and made her a contestant. Marshmallow is a pretty social person as the time passes and she doesn't give up easily. So when they got her inside of Idiotic Island she wanted to escape since it was terrible, and Cobs made sure she didn't by... telling her to not do that, that they would go out sooner than later and that he was truly sorry for it, that it was what the showrunners asked him to do. As weird as it sounded for Marsh, she didn't focus on that but the fact that she still wanted to escape. And she almost did but... they trapped her inside of the metal box to not let her out. But no one really knew that she was there. Her Feral Look isn't exactly feral, as she is full of adrenaline and physical pain. Her thing here are pillows instead of chairs.

Bow: Bow is an special case. Marsh and her were best friends back then when Marsh was alive. Bow was a very known musician, who was also recognized by her strong attitude and quirky personality of sorts. But she was a great violinist and knew how to play the piano just great. Marshmallow was a big fan of Bow's songs, and Bow was a big admirer of Marsh's work. They did some collabs as well, and everything was going just fine. Until Marsh just... started to drift away slowly. Bow didn't want to say anything since she didn't want to bother Marshmallow, but she did miss her friend. She started sending her messages but Marsh couldn't reply because of the show and eventually, the box. When Marshmallow's definitive death was announced, Bow wasn't able to process it. So she was in denial. She didn't believe it and didn't want to do it. But... it was true. She knew Marsh was gone. She just didn't want to say "bye" to her friend. Stuff happens and, well, she ends up dying thanks to S&P. Marsh does no longer remember her, but she's happy to be with her friend again.

Dough: He's both a mix of Canon Dough and Canon Apple. He's slow at understanding things and doesn't get a lot of stuff, but his heart is in a good place. He doesn't have a lot of friends so he loves and cares deeply for those who he has (Apple, for example), but he's not as energetic really. He has a good heart and tries to be there for Apple, but Apple has troubles opening up after all. He likes to play the piano and likes making songs time to time. Even if his memory is kind of shit, he does remember that way back then, he had an step sibling to who he showed how to play some instruments as well. He doesn't know what happened to her ever since she went away, and... well, there's not much he can do anyway. He's an splendid guy, just needs more critical thinking.

Apple: Apple is a smart girl. But she's not smart emotionally for the record. She has troubles with recognizing her own feelings at times and she feels awfully guilty for what happened with Marsh, and with what happened to Dough, since there was a distance made by Marsh's allucinations. She didn't end up on good terms with Dough after he got out, and was worried she messed up the friendship she had with him. She values her friends deeply and that shows with Taco too! Taco did everything to look after her!

Silver Spoon: Silver is Knife's brother here, most likely the younger sibling, so they most likely had different enviroments/ways to grow up and see the world. Meanwhile Knife threw himself into his studies and became a pretty smart scientist, Silver had a somewhat darker turn. He was similar to Canon Silver years ago that is, always sure of what he was doing and soft spoken (but not in the way Candle would be), and his main job was and is to help people spiritually. However, one of those jobs ended up terribly, and that led him to have another being inside of his body- The Inner Shine. So him being unstable wasn't helping since this creature was a treat to others and everything you know. But thankfully, Knife was there to help him on that, and was never scared towards The Inner Shine. That helped Silver to recover emotionally from his new situation of some sorts, but then, he had to work on himself to dominate this spirit. And he did. Once he reached peace within himself, he was able to control the spirit at his favor, and the spirit warns him about future events that may occur when he meditates. Nowdays, Silver is charming, dear and soft spoken in a way that actually calms others. He looks up to Knife, and wants to help everyone out, since he knows what it is to be helpless. The color of his quartz would be light blue + cyan instead of purple and pink. He does feel useless if he can't help others, since it's the thing he has been doing the most for years after all. Though Knife tries to cheer him up and say that Silver has to focus on himself instead of others sometimes, but it's still hard. He seems to have low self esteem in a way and self doubts too much. Other than that, he's a good friend and only uses his crystal when it is truly necessary.

Candle: Candle comes from a very high-class family, which means she always got what she wanted too. She's smart but in a way that most people don't like (Taco) and is too full of herself at times. This is mostly because she hasn't really made any "friends" in terms of relationships for most of her life, so she's too out of touch with that. She's sarcastic and likes to tease others, Taco specifically, but even then, unlike Silver in canon, she started to show more frequently that she actually does care about her fellow teammates and contestants. Her friends, to an extent. Mostly thanks to Silver that is. He became her spark in a way. She started to be kinder, in her own way, which would be "a dick but with good intentions". Though she's still full of herself.

But she generally does appreciate her friendships and alliances, she just sucks a lot at emotional stuff and is awkward towards it, but she still tries. However, when Silver was eliminated, she felt guilt. And that started to sink in for her. This is what she wanted, right? So why does she feel sad? That's because, as much as she joked about her not caring for her friends, as much as she could act like an asshole, she missed and loved them deeply. She wishes she could have said anything to Taco and Silver before they were eliminated. She wished she could apologize for the things she said. But now, she's completely alone.

[tobiosmilktea]

ahh omg requests are opened !! can i request atsumu, iwa, kenma, and tsukki angst to fluff kinda thing where they get into a big fight and the boys blow up on the reader but make up at the end? pls make me cry but also go “💘🥺”,, thank you so much !!!

- 🧋

kiss and make up with atsumu, iwaizumi, kenma, and tsukishima

— m. atsumu

being with atsumu,, it’s no surprise that you two occasionally get into a few arguments here and there

they honestly range from the tiniest little, insignificant things from what to get for dinner to whether or not pineapple belongs on pizza aka things most people probably wouldn’t even bat an eye at

you were used to it considering how atsumu is, but his personality is what you liked most about him with how he’s constantly having you on your feet —never knowing what he’ll do next

they’re quiet funny at the end of the day and that back and forth banter is just another way you two show how much you care about each other

with that being said, no matter what you two are arguing about, it’s always lighthearted and not so serious

that’s why it honestly took you by surprise how atsumu’s typically nonchalant and teasing nature whenever you guys “argue” over something was something you’ve never seen before

very rarely did you ever see this man get incredibly angry and you’ve even seen all of his games where things weren’t going right

and perhaps that’s where the root of this argument started in the first place

dating a famous division 1 volleyball player who is well loved and respected, it’s hard being able to spend the proper time with him when he’s constantly travelling or getting recognized whenever you two are out on a date

you weren’t exactly complaining about this problem to atsumu after he came back from a tiresome and strenuous day of practice as you knew that it was going to be like this when you two first met

if anything, it was just a concern you voiced out that you obviously weren’t expecting him to solve with a snap of his fingers

“and what the fuck do you want me to do about it, (y/n)?” he snapped at you, venom coated his words like tar

you looked at him with widened eyes as a mixture of confusion and utter offense melted upon your expression

atsumu was notorious for using foul language on a daily basis, but never had he ever swore at you and it’s safe to say you like to keep that same energy with him

you scoffed at him, still a bit dumbfounded, “i’m not expecting you to fix anything over night, i was just saying.”

“as if i already didn’t know how hard it is to find time to spend together.”

“so, are you just treating me like an idiot now?”

it was late, you were tired just as much as atsumu was and you certainly weren’t in the mood to argue with him anymore

before you could even let him answer, you walked away from him and entered your bedroom withy a slammed door

you hated going to bed angry, but there honestly wasn’t anymore moral within you to even continue whatever leftover conversation between you and atsumu

perhaps giving time for something this to simmer until the morning would be enough to make sure your fatigue wasn’t blurring your thoughts knowing how dangerous misunderstandings can be

a few minutes later, atsumu enters the room, eyes scanning over your figure beneath the sheets as your breathing subsided

he thought you were fast asleep, but your mind was still awake and racing with the worse case scenarios. it made it so much more difficult now that atsumu laid beside you

he would wrap his arms around you, “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have yelled at you.” whispering in a hushed, muffled voice. you could feel the way his lips pecked at you shoulder then up to your temple

you weren’t sure if he knew you were awake or not as you swore he could’ve heard your heart pounding

without uttering another word, you turn towards him, burying your head into the crook of his neck

you were just glad his warmth was still here

— i. hajime

you believe one of your biggest flexes within your relationship with iwa is that you two rarely argue or get into childish fights

sure, there were disagreements here and there, but most of them were minuscule decisions on what outfit to where that day or what restaurant you two wanted to eat at. most of which would be decided with a harmless game of rock, paper, scissors or nose goes lmao

other than constantly bickering with oikawa, iwaizumi isn’t really the type to get into shouting contests with you unlike with his best friend (most of which is started by oikawa anyway)

because of this, you weren’t really expecting to get into a fight with your boyfriend, and yet, it wasn’t like you weren’t used to him doing so

at the end of the day, you always ended up being the moderator of iwaizumi and oikawa’s loud back and forth banter if things got too rowdy

so never in a million years were you expecting oikawa to be taking your place at this very moment

poor dude doesn’t know what to do

he’s used to third wheeling you and iwa being all lovey dovey, but now that you two were in the midst of a midafternoon shouting contest, he’s completely dumbfounded

oikawa couldn’t help but feel bad for you as technically the whole reason why you and iwaizumi were arguing in the first place was because of him

long story short, iwa was sick and tired of oikawa flirting with you all the time despite only doing it to tease him

you were well aware of this as well, playing along with oikawa’s flirts just to tease your boyfriend

you didn’t see any harm in it as you made it very clear the moment you confessed to iwaizumi that you liked him and not his best friend (who you more or less saw as a brother over anything)

“listen, i’m sorry i was only playing around.” you apologize, throat already aching from the amount of stress you had already put on it

“if you were only playing around, then you wouldn’t be flirting with him everyday!” spat iwaizumi as he flickering a harsh look to oikawa who backed a good six feet away from you two (social distancing king lmao)

you honestly didn’t know what to say as a lump formed in your throat, rendering you speechless. granted, he had a point, but how couldn’t he overlook the way you only had eyes for him? the way you would “flirt” with oikawa they always tended to be backhanded, the way you would always kiss iwa after each of oikawa’s attempts to flirt, or how you would constantly remind him how much you loved him

it hurt slightly knowing how it was all overlooked by harmless teases

regardless,, it had to stop

before you could  apologize once more and say you’ll stop, iwaizumi huffs, “just say that you wanted him the entire time and not me.” before walking away entirely

your eyes widened, turning over towards a distanced oikawa who had the same look of surprise before motioning a hand towards your boyfriend, “well, go after him!”

with missing a beat, you ran down the block to catch up to iwaizumi, spreading your arms and throwing it around him as you bury your face into his back

“i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have done that.” your voice muffled into his uniform shirt, “i only like you, iwa, you have to believe me.”

your hands that were firmly clasped together to prevent him from breaking out of your embrace was slowly pulled apart by iwaizumi, feeling his entire body turn to face towards you

“idiot,” he muses with that same embrace

— k. kenma

i don’t think argument are common between you and kenma

he’s probably too preoccupied with playing video games or sleeping to even bother starting a fight over mindless disagreements

you were glad that you didn’t have to deal with such burdens of fighting with your significant other, but at the same time, you believed that small disagreements in relationships showed just how much you cared for the other

it showed how they were looking out for you if you were to ever make a terrible decision, and yet kenma would only bat an eye at you and shrug whenever you ask him for advice

in the end, you’d end up fucking something up or get hurt

or whenever you’d ask your boyfriend what he thinks about a specific outfit, he barely spare your a glance before uttering the words, “yeah, looks great babe.”

it sounded almost crazy to say, but sometimes you wished for you and kenma to get into arguments sometimes

not ones so serious it would lead to a significant gap within your relationship, but rather the ones the led for you guys to communicate more

besides, it’s not like you guys communicate a lot in the first place

you first brought up this concern when you came over to his apartment to which he was (surprise surprise) still playing video games

you didn’t mind about his hobbies as that’s what he liked most, but sometimes you just wished he would give you the proper attention for once

“hey,” you’d call out to him in the dark room, shaking a plastic bag in your hand in the hopes it would capture his attention, “i bought takoyaki!”

and to your low expectations, kenma simply hums as he clicks rapidly at his keyboard

your brows furrow as you pondered to yourself, what will get his attention?

“i also brought my boyfriend with me!” you lied just to see if his expression would even change

and what do ya know, it doesn’t. it’s the same focused deadpan on his computer screen, “no you didn’t, your boyfriends right here?”

you were at the end of your rope

“then why doesn’t my boyfriend come over here and act like it?” you hissed, “last time i checked, boyfriends get excited whenever they see their significant other and not over genshin characters.”

now that was a bite to kenma’s ego as he finally pulled his eyes away from the screen and towards you. “what?” he says, confused.

“do you even like me anymore?”

kenma scoffs almost dumbfounded, “of course i do, how could you say that?”

“because i experience it everyday, kenma.” you confess, fighting to keep your heavy gaze onto your boyfriend as he approaches you. “every time i come by i always see you at your desk in front of your computer. you never greet me first and unless i verbally say something, you probably won’t even notice that i’m here.” you voice broke slightly

“i-i’m sorry, (y/n)—”

“do you ever stop and think of the fact that the only times we see each other if from me visiting you? if i were just to stop one day i’d figure we wouldn’t even have a relationship in the first place.” you sigh as you shook your head, “you probably wouldn’t even notice, anyway.”

almost immediately does kenma wrap his arms around you in a tight embrace, almost as if he feared that you would disappear if he were to let go in the slightest

he places a kiss on your forehead before resting his own against yours, “i don’t ever want to hear those words come from you every again, (y/n). i’m so so sorry, i’ll promise to be better.”

you melted within his embrace, feigning a smile from appearing as you quickly give him a peck before remembering that the bag of food you bought was still in your hand

“let’s start by eating before the food gets cold.”

— t. kei

unlike the rest of the previously mentioned boys, arguments are pretty common between you and tsukishima considering his nature

he’s constantly teasing and making fun of you, but all of which were just jokes not meant to be taken seriously and you were well aware of this too

it’s probably the main reason why tsuki found himself so enamored with you as you constantly matched his energy 

you two were shockingly similar with your humor and your smugness, but the main differences between the two of you was you academics

it’s not surprise how tsukishima is always at the top of his class while you’re always at the bottom of it

considering this, the majority of your dates during the week with him are usually study dates or normal dates that end with the two of  you either at the library or each other’s houses studying material for the following day’s test

it was clear that in order to date each other, you both had to have patience

you weren’t exactly the fastest learner and you easily got distracted with things around you that you’re honestly surprised that tsukishima’s nonexistent patience was still up and active

besides, he loved you. he had to understand your difficulties as most of the time you can’t help it, but at the same time his personality was like treading on broken glass

usually he had enough patience to last an entire two hour study session with you, but today was oddly different

nothing was going right with tsukishima’s day and he just got absolutely annoyed with every little thing from a person bumping into him in the halls to a stain on his uniform that you could barely even notice

right now, this was the tenth time he found you tuning him out and daydreaming

his knuckled turned alabaster from the pressure of squeezing his mechanical pencil. he huffed, trying to calm himself down as he rubbed his aching temples

“(y/n), were you even listening to what i was—”

“do you think giraffes know where other giraffes are from?” you interrupted him with another one of your mindless tangents, “like considering how the pattern of a giraffe’s fur depends on what regent they’re from, do you think a giraffe from southern africa could tell if another if from western africa—”

tsukishima was at his limit, “can’t you just shut the fuck up and focus for five minutes, (y/n)?” he shouts at you, “i swear, you wouldn’t be failing if you just listened for once.”

he huffs out in annoyance, completely ignoring the way the brightness in your expression fell into a frown

you weren’t mad as you honestly couldn’t blame him. having learning difficulties and a short attention span was burdening you boyfriend so much that he isn’t even obligated to be doing this for you

he was sacrificing his time tutoring you and you’re just wasting it

“i’m sorry i can’t learn as easily as you,” you mutter softly, picking up your things quickly

tsukishima gives you a look of confusion, “w-where are you going?”

“thanks for all your help, but i can’t keep wasting your time like this.” you say as you zipped up your backpack and left

the next day you walked to school alone. usually you would be walking with tsukishima and yamaguchi, but it seemed like even tadashi wasn’t there to wait outside your house either

you weren’t able to hide your melancholy as you entered your classroom, slightly glad that tsukishima and yamaguchi weren’t here yet to see your expression

it allowed you time to pull yourself together, and yet, that time alone was cut short as the two walked in

you briefly flicker them a look fast enough that they don’t notice, but long enough for you to see yamaguchi patting his best friend on the back with encouragement

tsukishima had something in his hands, but you were too far away to construe them

you looked back down to your desk, fiddling with you pencil and pretending as if you were thinking about what to write next

it was then did footsteps approach, arriving right next to you with a presence so unwavering

you gulped, hoping that it wasn’t who you thought it was as you looked it

of course it just had to be that one lanky boy with glasses and messy blond hair to be standing by your side

he was holding a stuffed giraffe and a small white box with string neatly tied around it

“i’m sorry for blowing up on you,” he bursts out his apology, “i know you have a hard time and i should’ve remembered that you can’t help it.”

he places the giraffe plushy and box onto your desk

“it’s an masai giraffe since i remembered you liking their unique fur pattern and i also got you strawberry short cake this morning before they ran out that’s why i wasn’t there to walk you to school.” tsukishima continues explaining, “i just hope you’re not angry with me.”

you felt a smile creeping up to your lips as you shook your head, “i could never.”

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

you are my home

this started out as a little concept, and then i thought it might be fun to write a whole fic out of it!

(side note: I know we have no idea if sarah and mitch are having a boy or girl, so i just went with girl ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

warnings: angst, relationship struggles, arguments

word count: 11.5k (the longest thing i've ever written :) )

"Just an eighth of a cup?"

"That's what it says," Harry shrugged, looking at the recipe on his phone. "Look, one eighth cup of milk. Right here-" He tilted the screen toward you.

"I believe you, it's just weird, it doesn't seem like a lot," you mused, but followed his instructions anyways. You were making chicken parmesan, and the two of you had a rather long history of butchered recipes. It was usually because you were too wrapped up in each other to read the recipe properly. Or because Harry would start kissing you while the food was cooking, murmuring against your lips that "we have plenty of time". Unfortunately, he usually got carried away, leaving you with a flushed face and burnt food.

Not this time, though. You were determined to make this one right. You stirred the milk into the mixture, watching carefully and turning the heat down when it began to bubble.

"Now... we just have to wait while it simmers for a few minutes," you said, setting the spatula down in the spoon rest. "So far, so good."

"I can think of something for us to do for a few minutes," Harry grinned, wrapping his arms around your waist. He leaned down, beginning to kiss your neck, but you quickly squirmed away.

"Nope, not this time," you grabbed the spatula again, brandishing it like a weapon. "Stay back. We're not taking any chances with this one. I'm tired of throwing out charred food and ordering pizza."

"Pizza is good, though," he argued, stepping closer again as you moved farther away.

"Not as good as our homemade chicken parmesan will be if you can just be patient for three minutes."

"Three minutes?" He practically whined.

You rolled your eyes. "You will be fine for three minutes. Wait until the food is done."

He huffed, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed. "Can't believe you're depriving me of your love like this."

"Yes, you're so terribly deprived," you said sarcastically. "it's not like I've been by your side constantly for the past 72 hours."

"Well, time flies when you're with the love of your life."

You smiled, stepping forward to give him a quick peck on the cheek. Just one. He grabbed at your forearms, trying to keep you close, but you jumped back.

"No," you said sternly. "The food is almost done and I'm not burning this one too."

"Fine," he groaned. "But speaking of 72 hours... I was wondering about something."

You hummed questioningly, stirring the sauce.

"I was just kind of thinking... I mean, we're together all the time. When we're in the States we're together at your place, and when we're in London we're together at mine. So do you think... maybe we should just... officially move in together?"

You froze, suddenly feeling your heart thudding. It's not like you hadn't thought about it before. You had; a lot, actually. Of course you wanted to live with him. You hated being apart from him, and you knew he felt the same about you.

But still, moving to a whole different continent is a pretty big step. You didn't know how that would work for your job, and you weren't exactly excited to be so far away from all your friends and family.

"You don't have to answer right now," He was quick to interject, seemingly noticing how worried you looked. "Not at all. I just... I think it would be nice to have you with me. I just hate all the back and forth, and I'd kind of like to have a place we can call home together."

A small smile spread over your face as you thought about how nice it really would be. You thought of waking up on a rainy morning, cuddled into his side as you listened to the raindrops patter on the window. You thought of baking cookies in the kitchen with him. Taking bubble baths together. Going on walks in the park every evening. All of that would be so much better if it didn't have an end date lurking around the corner. If you knew you wouldn't have to fly back home in a few days or weeks or months.

"It would be really nice," you agreed. "I just... what about my work and stuff?"

"We can figure that out," he said. "We can do it however you want. I'm sure they could set it up so you can work remotely, or you could get a different job in London, or... you don't actually have to work if you don't want to."

"What, just be your little housewife?" you teased, looking over your shoulder at him.

"No," he grinned. "Well, maybe-"

You turned and snapped a hand towel at him before he could finish that sentence. He jumped away, grinning boyishly and holding his hands up in surrender.

"That's not how I meant it, and you know it. But seriously, if you don't want to work you don't have to."

"I would like to be there with you, and know I don't have to leave anytime soon," you said thoughtfully.

"Like I said, you don't have to decide right now. Why don't you just think about it? As much as I want you to, it is a big decision and I don't want you to rush into anything you're not okay with."

Before you could speak again, the timer on your phone went off.

"That's the sauce," you said, turning around and turning the gas off. "See? It's not so hard to keep your hands off of me for long enough to cook a meal, is it?"

He scoffed. "Speak for yourself. I nearly died. Of lonliness."

-----

In the next few days, you thought about Harry's offer a lot. You couldn't deny that you really liked the idea. What could be better than living with the love of your life? Never having to leave to pick up more clothes, never forgetting something important at home, always being in the same country as him. There were just a few things you worried about. Your job, for one. Yes, Harry had offered for you to quit working, but you weren’t sure if that was the best idea. You liked your job, and being able to earn your own money.

Harry was probably right; it probably could be done remotely. But you would kind of miss seeing your coworkers, at least the few you had been close with.

Then there was the matter of your friends. You would really miss having girls' nights, and gossiping about their boyfriends, and getting mani-pedis every month. Sure, you knew you would be back to visit. But you also knew it would be different.

Then, the thing you were most worried about: your family. You had always been close with them, especially your mom. You went to see her and your dad every week, and you called them almost every day. You weren't sure how well you would cope with being so far away from them.

But at the same time, you were incredibly excited by the idea of moving to London. You had been there before, of course, but never for longer than a few weeks. You wanted to get the full experience. You wanted Harry to show you around, take you to his favorite places. You wanted to go to the town he grew up in, see the bakery he never shut up about. You wanted to be a part of his life, in every way.

So, a week after he first asked you, you made up your mind. You were laying on the couch with him, tracing over his tattoos with your fingers while some cooking show played. He was pretty involved, every so often groaning or shaking his head or tsking at the contestants' "complete lack of skills." You weren't paying any attention, though. You were trying to decide how to bring up the conversation from earlier.

Eventually, you decided to just go for it.

"Harry?" you asked, not looking up from your fingers on his arms.

"Hm?" He replied, peeling his eyes away from the screen to look at you.

"I was thinking... about what you said the other day."

"Yeah?" He sat up more, muting the TV. "What about it?"

"I just think- I mean, there's still some stuff to figure out, but I would really like to move into your place in London."

"Really?" His face lit up.

You nodded. "I'm a little worried about my work, and leaving my family and friends, but... I want to be with you. I hate when one of us has to leave. I just want to go to sleep next to you, and wake up next to you, and not have an end date hanging over my head every time we're together."

"I like the sound of that," he smiled, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. "And like I said, we'll figure out your work. And we'll come back to visit whenever you want to. It's only like... a nine hour flight."

"Right, basically nothing," you laughed, leaning your head against his shoulder.

"Right," he smiled. "But really. Any time you need to see your people, we'll come see them."

"We?"

He nodded, seeming confused by your questioning tone.

"You wouldn't have to do that," you shook your head. "I don't want to make you-"

"I want to." He cut you off. "I'm not going to just let you fly for 18 hours all alone. Plus, I'd miss you too much while you were gone."

"That's sweet," you said, a light flush heating up your face. "Also, my family might be disappointed if I came back and you weren't with me. I think they like you more than me at this point."

"That was the plan all along," he grinned.

You hit his arm playfully, but didn't move your head. "So what would that look like?"

"Well, really we could do whatever you want to. We could just move all your stuff into my place, or if you wanted, we could maybe find somewhere new? Somewhere that's just ours."

"Harry, we are not buying a whole new house when you basically have a mansion. That would be stupid."

"I'm actually really glad you feel that way. That mansion was bloody expensive."

-----

"How much longer until your lease is up?" Harry's impatient voice came through the phone.

"One less day than when I told you yesterday," you rolled your eyes. He was worse than a kid waiting for Christmas. He asked nearly every day if he could just pay off the lease for you and have you move right then. Your answer was always no; you had decided to finish it out on your own. Kind of like closing one chapter of your life before you start another.

There were just two weeks left now, and the evidence was all around the place. You and Harry had started to box up your smaller items, and the space already felt much less like home. You had taken pictures off the walls; cleared trinkets off the bookshelves. In the next few days, you were going to go through your clothes and decide what would come with you and what would be donated.

Harry had been excited to help with the whole process, but he had to go back to London a week earlier than he planned. Of course, you weren't happy about this, but you kind of liked having some time alone to say goodbye to the place you had called home for the past five years.

So you did just that. You wandered around, smiling at the patched spot in the wall from when Harry had knocked over a lamp stumbling around in the dark. You ran your fingers over the slight scorch mark on the table from when you made dinner, but forgot to set down a potholder. Your toe scuffled over the nail polish stain on the rug, from when Harry had tried to paint your nails.

All these little things made your little apartment feel like your home. You would miss them, but you had realized something as you thought back to all the memories. Most of them had been with Harry. Yes, you were leaving some memories behind, but you weren't leaving HIM behind. You would make new memories together, wherever you lived. As long as it was together.

"It's just two weeks, baby, and then we'll be together."

"Two weeks is so long," he sighed.

"It'll go by fast," you promised. "It is for me. I'm keeping busy over here."

"Me too," he took on an offended tone. "Very busy. I'm doing lots of things."

"What have you been up to?" You asked, settling back onto the couch. It was weird to see how empty your space was, but it was nice to be able to put your feet on the coffee table without knocking over the various decorations that usually adorned it.

"Some work stuff, but mostly clearing out space for you. You have a lot of stuff."

"I do not," you scoffed. "I probably have less hair products than you do."

"Hey," he cried. "Rude. My hair is luxurious. It takes a lot of upkeep."

You smiled, shaking your head.

“I moved a lot of stuff into the guest closet, so you can have half of the one in our room."

"Really?" You asked, a little surprised. You knew how well organized he kept his closet, so it was a little shocking that he was willing to just move everything.

"Of course. You'll be living here too, you need someplace to keep your clothes."

"I don't think I'll be able to fill half of your closet, though," you laughed.

"Guess we'll have to go shopping, then!" He chirped.

"I guess," you agreed with a smile.

You heard muffled voices in the background before Harry spoke again.

"I'm sorry, love, but I have to go." he sounded frustrated. "I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay. Love you!"

"Love you too."

-----

"Today's the day!" Harry practically yelled through the phone.

"I know!" You said, trying to match his enthusiasm. You were slightly less excited. After all, you still had a nine hour flight ahead of you. But you knew that by this time tomorrow, you would officially be living with Harry, and that made it worth it.

"Do you have everything packed?" He asked.

"Pretty much. I'm just throwing the last of my stuff into my bag."

"Did you make a shopping list for when you get here?"

"I was gonna do that on the plane. It'll be something for me to do," you said, turning on the speakerphone so you could move around more freely.

"Yeah, good plan," he agreed. "I've said this a few times already, but I'm so excited for you to be here with me."

"Have you? Have you really said it a few times? I wasn't aware," you laughed.

"Be nice to me, I'm just happy," he said, and you could practically hear the smile in his voice.

"I know, I'm sorry," you shook your head with a smile. "I'm excited too. But I have to go now, I have to finish packing."

"Ok," he replied sadly. "See you soon!"

-----

You spotted him right after you got off the plane. He was standing near the gate, searching the crowd expectantly. Once he locked eyes with you, his face lit up in a huge smile. He made his way through the crowd, meeting you with open arms. He acted like he hadn't seen you in weeks, even though it had only been four days.

He buried his face in your neck, holding you tightly against him.

"I missed you," he murmured.

"I missed you too," you breathed deeply, inhaling his familiar scent. "But I'm here now. And now we can go home."

"Yeah," he grinned. "Home."

-----

"Harry, the movers can carry some of it, that's their job," you reminded him as he grabbed one of the boxes.

"Yeah, but it'll go faster if I carry some stuff," he argued, motioning to the door with his head. "Open that for me?"

You did as he asked, shaking your head as he brought the box of books inside. He insisted on helping, even though he had hired a team of movers to do this for you.

"Where do you wanna put these?" He asked, looking around the living room. "They can go on the shelf in here, or the one in our room."

"I'm not sure, I think I want some in here and some in the room. Why don't we go through them later?"

"Sounds good," he nodded, setting the box down in front of the bookshelf. "Another box!"

You shook your head again, going into the kitchen as he went back outside. You started going through the cupboards, checking to make sure you didn’t have any duplicates on your shopping list. He already had quite a few of the items you needed, so you could remove several things.

Once the last few boxes had been brought in, and Harry had thanked the movers profusely, he collapsed on the couch.

"I told you you shouldn't have done so much, now you're all tired out," you joked, going to sit next to him.

He nodded. "You were right. I need a nap after all that." He got up, pushing you to lay down and then crawling on top of you. He laid his head on your stomach, sighing contentedly when you ran your fingers through his hair.

"Oh wait," he lifted his head, already sounding half asleep. "We didn't even get groceries yet. We have to-" He began to get up, but you stopped him with a gentle hand on his face.

You shook your head, running your thumb over his cheekbone lightly. "We can do that later, baby. Just go to sleep for a while."

"Yeah," he nodded slightly. "I'm just gonna go to sleep for a while."

"Okay," you smiled. "Sweet dreams."

-----

When Harry woke up, he was alone on the couch. He frowned at the lack of warmth, grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch and pulling it around himself. He wasn't sure how you had managed to get out from under him without waking him, but he wasn't happy about it.

He planned to go back to sleep, but sighed when his phone buzzed. He reached for it, but then paused for a minute. He decided whatever it was could wait. He retracted his arm, pulling the blanket tighter around himself and snuggling into the back of the couch.

Just as he was about to drift off, his phone began buzzing again. This time, it didn't stop. He groaned, but grabbed it this time. He squinted at the bright light, trying to make out who was trying so hard to contact him.

It was Jeff. There were two missed calls and a text. He swiped on the text, his frown deepening as he read the message.

Jeff: I'm sure you're going to see this soon enough, but the moving van was spotted outside your house. There's already a few articles out, and I'm sure there'll be more. Just wanted to let you know so you don't have to hear it from some trashy website, and maybe you should let Y/N know to stay away from socials for a while. Sorry about this.

Harry groaned, throwing his arm over his face. He had known this was likely to happen, but at the same time he had hoped it wouldn't. He was so happy right now, and he didn't need that to be tainted by rude articles and crazy fans and speculations about his relationships. He just wanted to sit back and relax with his love for a few days, but apparently that was too much for him to ask.

Normally, he wouldn't even look at the articles. He knew they would only be upsetting. This time, though, he felt like he should. He wasn't sure how you would react to this, and it might be easier if he knew what you would be seeing all over the internet for the next week.

So, he opened google and searched "harry styles". Instantly, his screen filled with pictures of the moving van outside his house. There were even a few pictures of him carrying boxes, and one of your back as you walked inside. He huffed angrily. This was supposed to be a happy day, and now he was in a bad mood. His privacy had been violated yet again, and it was hard for him to stay positive after that.

Then he began scrolling through the article titles. He rolled his eyes at the baited language that was clearly meant to create negative responses.

"HARRY STYLES seen MOVING BOXES? Is he going out... or is someone coming in?"

"Harry Styles spotted with NEWEST GIRLFRIEND"

"ANOTHER GIRL? HARRY SHARES HIS HOUSE... YET AGAIN!"

"Just a friend? Or Harry's latest lover?"

"Guess which FORMER ONE DIRECTION STAR is shacking up with his SECRET GIRLFRIEND!"

Against his better judgement, he clicked on one of the articles. His heart sunk further with every sentence he read.

"It's no secret that Harry Styles has been with a lot of women (read about each of his past relationships here). But is there someone new for the Watermelon Sugar singer?

A moving van was spotted outside of Harry's house today, and the star was seen moving boxes into his 8.7 million dollar mansion.

As if that’s not enough, there was a woman seen heading into the house with Harry. Could this mean a new romance for the Grammy winning artist? Well, don’t be too sure. There are many possible explanations for these new living arrangements. Maybe she’s a friend going through a hard time, or even just a family member who needs a couch to crash on.

Or maybe she’s Harry’s newest conquest. Yet another notch in the bed stand! Way to go, Styles!

However, we can’t help but notice: she doesn’t seem like Harry’s type. Come on girl, leggings and a hoodie? And that hair? Apparently, she’s not trying too hard to impress him.

We don’t know all the details yet, but stay tuned! We’ve reached out to Harry’s management for more information. Check back for more updates, and subscribe to our email list so you don’t miss anything!”

Harry clicked off his phone with a sigh. He stood up from the couch, keeping the blanket wrapped around him as he made his way into the kitchen.

No matter how upset he was, he was sure the sight in front of him would always bring a smile to his face. You were wearing one of his t-shirts, dancing slightly to your music as you stirred the pot in front of you. Harry leaned against the door frame, giving himself a few minutes to take this in. He couldn’t believe he would get to experience this every day from now on.

With a fond smile still on his face, he walked over to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, adjusting the blanket so it draped over your shoulders as well.

“Hi,” you smiled, leaning back against him. “Did you have a good nap?”

“Would have been better if you didn’t get up,” he pouted, resting his chin on your shoulder to look into the pot.

“Oh please, you were totally dead to the world. I’ve been in here for half an hour now, and you only just woke up.”

“Still,” he said, turning his head to kiss your cheek. “What are you making?”

“Mac ‘n’ cheese,” you explained. “I wasn’t in the mood to do any real cooking.”

“Sounds delicious,” he smiled. “S’it almost done?”

“Should be like five more minutes,” you glanced over at the timer on your phone. “Want to get the plates?”

“No, just want to hold you,” he said, pressing his face further into your neck. “I’m not awake yet.”

“Fine,” you said, setting the spoon down. “Then you gotta walk with me, because I need to set the table.”

“I can do that,” he said, his voice muffled.

You smiled, moving around the room to get everything you needed while Harry clung to you like a koala. The smell of food seemed to perk him up, because within a few minutes he was lifting his head and leaning less of his weight on you.

“Smells really good, love,” he said, finally pulling himself away from you.

“I know, I’m an amazing chef,” you grinned, lifting the pot off the stove and bringing it to the table. This time, you remembered to set down a potholer. You didn’t really want to ruin this table that probably cost more than your entire apartment.

“You are,” he agreed, pulling out your chair before sitting down next to you. He scooted his chair closer, moving the blanket again so you were both under it.

His mood seemed to change suddenly as he was piling the food onto your plates.

“I have to tell you something,” he said, looking more upset than you had seen in a while.

“What?” You asked, turning slightly to face him.

“I don’t really… there’s no nice way to say it,” he said, avoiding your eyes. “Someone took pictures of the moving van and us bringing stuff in, and there’s some pretty nasty articles.”

“Oh,” you said quietly. You weren’t quite sure how to respond to that. It’s not like you didn’t expect this, but you had hoped to have a few peaceful days with Harry before being attacked by the media. “Is it- how bad is it?”

“It’s... not good,” he sighed. “I wouldn’t recommend looking at it. That stuff is terrible, always has been. They always seem to know exactly how to tear people down; make you feel bad about yourself. You might wanna stay off social media, just for a few days until some of the crazies calm down.”

You nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“What?” he looked up quickly. “Why are you sorry? I’m the one that should be sorry, they’re writing terrible stuff about you, and it’s my fault.”

“It’s not your fault,” you were quick to shut him down. “And I’m sure it bothers you too. I know you don’t like when they get personal information.”

“No, I really don’t,” he agreed. “But I wish they left you out of it.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter now,” you said, leaning your head on his arm. “Because now I’m here, and we’re together, and I don’t have to leave anytime soon.”

-----

After dinner, Harry decided you should get some more of your things put away. He brought your bag to the bathroom, dumping everything out onto the vanity.

“Why do you have so many bottles?” He asked, picking up the closest one.

“Because,” you said, grabbing it out of his hands. “They all do different things. This one is moisturizer, this one makes sure my skin doesn’t get too oily-”

“So why don’t you just not use either of them? Seems like they cancel each other out anyways.”

You shot him a glare. “That’s not how it works. Anyways, this one's for dark spots. These glass ones are mineral oils. This blue one is for wrinkles- you know, gotta get ahead of those- and this one is rose water. It doesn’t really do anything, it basically just smells good. Then that’s my hair stuff- and I was right by the way, you do have way more than I do. And this is a face mask, and that one close to the sink is a hair mask, and this little tub is an exfoliator, and this cloth is a makeup remover, but it’s better for the environment than individual wipes. And then my makeup is here- so liquid foundation, setting powder, blush, concealer, mascara, eye shadow, eyeliner, and the brushes. I actually don’t have that much stuff,” you shrugged, looking at the bottles splayed everywhere.

“Right… not that much stuff,” he said, his eyes wide. “It’s a good thing I asked Gemma how she organizes all her stuff, because she told me to get one of these things.” He opened the cupboard under the sink, pulling out a spinning makeup organizer. “Hopefully all of your million bottles fit on this.”

“You got this for me?” you asked, smiling. “That’s so nice of you.”

“Well, I don’t think your stuff would have fit in the drawers,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

“Oh, shush,” you rolled your eyes. “Help me get all this organized, will you?”

-----

The next week was pretty smooth, minus that little hiccup with the press. You did as Harry suggested, and stayed off Twitter and Instagram. You didn’t think it would be too bad, but you had gotten a few texts from concerned family and friends that made you wonder how bad it really was.

Either way, you didn’t really want to look. You and Harry were essentially honeymooning, and you weren’t about to let a few nasty articles ruin it.

“We haven’t gone for groceries yet,” Harry reminded you, coming up behind you as you did your morning skincare routine.

“Yeah, I kind of forgot about that,” you said, closing the bottle of moisturizer. “We can go whenever, just let me get dressed.”

He nodded. “What all do we need?”

“I don’t think there’s too much, but we need some fruit. Most of yours is bad at this point.”

“Yeah, that happens.” He laughed. “I usually buy a whole bunch and then end up having to leave, so then I come home to a fridge full of rotten fruit.”

“Lovely,” you joked. “I also need some chips, all your snacks are healthy.”

“I have no idea what chips are, but we can buy some crisps, if that’s what you meant,” he smiled at you in the mirror.

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes, hitting his arm playfully. “I’m not going to call them crisps just because I live here now. I’m still American.”

“Fine, but when we have kids, they will not be using your American words. I’m not letting you corrupt my children like that.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“Well then, it’s too bad you moved in with me, isn’t it?”

-----

“Ooh, we need these!” Harry said, grabbing a bag of brownie bites.

“Why do we need those?”

“Because they’re delicious,” he said, looking at you like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“If you say so,” you shrugged, pushing the cart forward after he threw the bag in. “Where is the pasta?”

“Aisle 17,” he answered immediately.

“Is it really?” You asked, a little surprised he had the aisle numbers memorized.

“I have no idea,” he laughed. “It’s just the first number that popped into my head. I think it’s that way? Or maybe over here…” he trailed off, like he was trying to remember where to go. “I actually have no idea.”

“Wow, you're so helpful.”

“I know,” he grinned. “I don’t know, just start wandering around and we’ll find it eventually.”

“What a plan,” you shook your head, but followed him anyway. It’s not like you were in any rush, and you were both having a good time.

“Oh look!” You said, turning into an aisle. “I found the chips.”

“The what?” Harry called from the next row over. “I thought you said something, but I must have heard you wrong.”

“No, I just said I found the chips,” you repeated. “You know, little cooked potato slices?”

“I’m sorry love, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” He said, joining you in the aisle. “Oh, silly me. You meant crisps!”

“Nope,” you grabbed a bag of Doritos. “I meant exactly what I said.” You placed the bag in the cart, turning back to Harry. You leaned up on your tiptoes, moving closer to his face. “Chips,” you whispered, before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and then turning around again.

“You can’t seduce me into calling them the wrong name,” he scoffed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you shrugged, pushing the cart away. “Did you find the pasta yet?”

“No, but I did find the ice cream,” he said, easily catching up to you with his long legs.

“Ooh, I think that’s where we need to go next.”

“I agree,” he grinned, steering the cart in the right direction. “I think we should probably just get all of them, ya know? That way we won’t miss out on anything good.”

“Harry, there’s like thirty different flavors here,” you laughed. “We are not getting that much ice cream, we don’t even have that much space in the freezer.”

“No, that’s just because I have a bunch of frozen food in there. It’s mostly vegetables. Not that important. I can just throw that all away,” he argued, already opening the freezer door to reach for some ice cream.

“We are not buying thirty cartons of ice cream,” you shook your head. “We can get, like, ten, at most. Even that-”

“You already said ten!” he said, pressing a finger against your lips. “You can’t go back on that now. So pick some flavors!”

-----

“Which one do we want to try first?” He asked, looking at the large selection you had bought.

“Um… I think the salted caramel core,” you decided, picking up the carton of ice cream.

“Oh! You know what we need with all of this?”

“Insulin?”

“No,” he rolled his eyes, grabbing one of the bags from earlier and pulling out the brownie bites. “I told you we needed these, they’ll go perfect with the ice cream.”

“Ooh,” you nodded. “That’s a good idea.”

“I know,” he said proudly. “I’m full of good ideas. Actually, I have another one. Let’s go watch The Office while we eat our delicious brownie bites.”

“Ok, but if you put on the UK version I might have to leave.”

“I would never,” he said in an offended tone. “I’m not a monster.”

-----

“I don’t want to go back to work,” he sighed. “I just wanna stay here with you.”

“I know,” you said, tracing patterns on his chest. “But I have to start working again too. I don’t think my boss is too happy about this whole arrangement, so I have to make everything twice as good so she’ll let me keep doing it this way.”

“Yeah,” he said, running his fingers through your hair. “I’m saying again, you could just quit.”

“I’m not quitting,” you shook your head. “I like my job. And I can do it all from the house, so it’s a really good deal.”

“I wish I could do that,” he sighed again.

“That wouldn’t work,” you smiled. “If we were both here all day, neither of us would get anything done.”

“You might be right,” he laughed. “You’re very distracting.”

“Oh, I’m distracting?”

“Very,” he grinned. You recognized the look in his eyes, and you knew if you didn’t get up soon you wouldn’t any time in the next hour

So before he could move too far and start kissing at your neck, you rolled off him.

“I have to get ready for work,” you said, getting out of bed.

“What do you mean get ready? You don’t have to go anywhere, we have all the time in the world,” he pouted, reaching out his arm for you.

“I don’t, but you do. Jeff has been texting you nonstop, and Sarah called the other day and told me she’s getting restless at home. So I’m taking the baby today, so all of you can get some work in.”

“You are? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because, if you knew we were having the baby here, you would come up with some excuse to stay here.”

“Maybe,” he smiled, still making no moves to get up. “She’s just so cute.”

“Well, sometime we can offer to babysit so Sarah and Mitch can go out for the evening or something. But you have to go in today, so you should probably get dressed.”

He groaned, flopping his head back into the pillows.

-----

“Harry! They’re here!” You called, opening the door and inviting Sarah and Mitch in. “Hi guys, Harry’s being a drama queen today so I’m not sure when he’ll be down.”

“When isn’t he?” Sarah smiled, stepping into the room with the baby in her arms. Mitch was carrying the diaper bag, which he set down on the bench next to the door.

Sarah handed the baby over to you as Harry came down the stairs.

“Aw, can I hold her?” He asked, not even greeting his friends.

“No,” all three of you said at once.

“Why?” He whined before smiling at the baby in your arms.

“Because you won’t be able to put her down,” you said, laughing when the other two nodded. “See, they know I’m right.”

“Fine,” he grumbled. “But Mitch, you’re taking Sarah out tomorrow night and we’re babysitting.”

“I’m alright with that,” Sarah smiled. “Y/N, you should have everything you need in the diaper bag. There’s enough formula for a few bottles, but she won’t need to eat for an hour or so. Other than that she’ll probably sleep most of the time, she’s a pretty quiet baby. She takes after her dad.”

You nodded, bouncing her lightly. Harry was already in her face, smiling and cooing and offering his finger for her to grab. She seemed to like the attention, and was smiling right back at him.

“Harry, we have to go,” Sarah said with one hand on the doorknob.

He huffed. “Just when I start to make a connection with the child, I’m ripped away.”

You rolled your eyes. “We’ll have her tomorrow night. You can connect with her then.”

“It won’t be the same,” he said. “You know- why don’t we just take her with us? She can just come with us-” he was already moving toward you again, but Mitch grabbed his shoulder.

“No, Harry, we actually have to get some stuff done today.”

“Fine,” he groaned. “But you better send me pictures if she does anything cute,” he pointed at you.

“Everything she does is cute,” Mitch argued.

“You’re really not helping,” Sarah said, hitting his arm. “I thought I had one child, but turns out I have three.”

-----

The next few days were not very productive for Harry. He was having a hard time getting back in the swing of things, and it felt like everything he did was bad. He couldn’t write or play anything he liked. He just felt stuck.

They went over some old stuff, just so he didn’t feel like they totally wasted their time. Still, he couldn’t help but feel incredibly frustrated. He didn’t usually have issues with writers’ block, and he expected to be even better now that you were with him all the time. He had always been more productive when he got to see you, so he thought living with you would give him an extra boost. Apparently not.

Then, to make everything worse, more pictures and articles came out. Pictures from the day you had gone grocery shopping had been captured by some fan, but for some reason hadn’t come out until today.

But they were suddenly everywhere. There were even more articles than before, and this time it was worse because there were full pictures of your face. Before, there had only been one blurry shot of your back, and that alone got enough criticism. Now it was like the floodgates had opened. Every aspect of your appearance was being ripped apart, along with Harry’s “decision making”.

He saw the first article when they were taking a break for lunch one day. They had ordered some pizzas, and everyone was spread out on the couches across the room.

Harry unlocked his phone, ready to call you and ask about your day, but was instead met with another text from Jeff. Like the one before, he had advised Harry to keep you off social media for the next few days and apologized that it got this out of hand.

Sighing, he decided to see what they were saying this time.

“Harry Styles goes on a shopping spree- But who’s that with him?”

“Harry’s “new girlfriend” shops with him?”

"DID SHE MOVE IN?”“

“MYSTERY GIRL and HARRY STYLES search for the necessities!”

He clicked on one of the articles.

“Harry Styles and his mystery lady were seen shopping last week. We can’t help but think things might be getting more serious!

The former One Direction star was spotted moving boxes into his house a few weeks ago. What we thought may have just been a favor for a friend might be something much more juicy!

Maybe she’s not just another notch in the bed stand- maybe this one will stick around!

But really, if she wants to stick around- maybe she should watch what she eats. The Sign of the Times singer was searching for healthy snacks, while his newest girlfriend filled the cart with ice cream and chips. Seems like a recipe for disaster between the two!

Again, she’s seen wearing a very simple outfit. And no (or at least, very little!) makeup. Come on girl, you couldn’t have at least used a little concealer for those eye bags?

It seems like she’s just not trying very hard! We have to wonder- how long can this last?”

“Fuck’s sake,” Harry groaned, grabbing the pillow next to him and chucking it across the room.

“Harry, what’s going on?” Sarah asked. Everyone had noticed how on edge he had been lately, but no one was quite sure how to address his moodiness.

“Another article just came out,” he sighed. “It’s worse than the last one. I’m so sick of this.”

“Does Y/N know?”

Harry shrugged. He didn’t feel like talking about it anymore, but he knew they wouldn’t just leave it without knowing if you were ok.

“You should probably call her, so she doesn’t hear it from someone else,” Sarah advised. “I would want to find out from someone I loved.”

“I can’t- I really don’t want to talk to her right now.”

“Did something happen with you two?” Mitch asked, confused. The two of you had been inseparable lately, so this was strange.

Harry shook his head.

“I just- can we just not talk about it?”

He could tell they didn’t want to drop it, but one of the assistants came in with the pizza, and Harry was clearly done talking.

His mood only got worse for the rest of the day. He still couldn’t make anything new, and he was even having trouble with things he already knew. He struggled to hit the higher notes, and his throat was getting sore from trying to force it. By the time people were starting to head home, he was ready to throw a lot more than a pillow.

Harry dropped his keys when he was trying to unlock the door, and then his coat fell off the hook when he tried to hang it up. By the time he got to the kitchen, his jaw was clenched and he was fuming.

“Hi,” you said tentatively, noticing how angry he looked.

“Hi,” he said shortly, opening the fridge. “Is there anything to eat?”

“I didn’t make anything,” you said, still typing on your computer.

“You didn’t-” He shut the fridge aggressively, the bottles and containers in the door clinking against each other. “You couldn’t make supper for one night?”

“Excuse me?” You looked up, crossing your arms defensively. “I’ve been working.”

“So have I!”

“And I don’t expect you to make supper after you’ve been working all day!”

“It’s different, you’re home all day!”

“That doesn’t mean I’m not busy, Harry. You know that.”

“Well what am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, you could stop yelling at me for starters! I didn’t do anything wrong and you're acting like you hate me.”

His face softened immediately, and he stepped forward. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry. I don’t hate you, I could never. I just-” He scrubbed his face with his hands. “I’m having a terrible time with work. I can’t do anything right, nothing is working, and all these articles-”

“The articles came out weeks ago, Harry. It’s not that big of a deal anymore.”

“No,” he shook his head. “There’s more. A lot more, and they’re worse than before.”

“Oh,” you said quietly. “I didn’t know that.”

“I know,” he replied. “I should have told you earlier, I just- I don’t know. I don’t want you to have to deal with this.”

“Well, keeping it a secret from me and then yelling at me isn’t going to help anything,” you said, arms still crossed. “I know you’ve been having a hard time lately, Sarah told me. You can talk to me, you know. You don’t have to just keep everything in.”

“I didn’t want to put this on you,” he admitted, looking down.

“I want to know,” you told him. “I want to know when things are upsetting you or you’re having a hard time at work. You can tell me those things.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I shouldn't have raised my voice. Please forgive me?”

“Of course I forgive you,” you said, moving around the table and closer to him. He looked up, opening his arms and smiling as you stepped into them.

“It will get better soon,” he promised. “It won't be this hard for long."

-----

Despite his hopeful words, your situation didn’t get any easier. More articles came out, most of them attacking Harry for his past relationships and wondering how long this one would last. His writers’ block showed no signs of easing up, and he was getting more frustrated with every day that passed.

On top of all this, you had started missing deadlines for work. The difference in time zones made it more difficult than you had anticipated, and your boss was not happy. You’d already had to sit through three Zoom meetings this week, with her lecturing you on “the importance of timeliness and responsibility.”

You were not in the right state of mind to deal with Harry’s moodiness, and the atmosphere between you was painfully tense.

That is, until it all boiled over one day.

Harry came home angry, again. He slammed the door shut and basically stomped to the kitchen. Your day had already been stressful enough, and you weren’t about to let him take out his frustration on you.

“Don’t even start with me today, Harry,” you shook your head.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, immediately getting defensive.

“I know you probably had a terrible day, but so did I. I’m sick of us fighting.”

“You think I want to fight? I’m so sorry for being stressed,” His voice was heavy with sarcasm.

“And I’m not? It’s not like you’re the only one in the world having a hard time, Harry!”

“What do you have to be stressed about? I’m the one who can’t get any work done, and I’m the one getting ripped apart by the media,” he huffed.

“Excuse me? Have you been on ANY social media lately? Are you the one getting called ugly for not wearing enough makeup? Or accused of being “Harry's newest slut”? Because that’s that they’re saying about me!”

“And how do you think that looks for my reputation?”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault that people are attacking you?”

“No,” he sighed, dropping his face into his hands. “I don’t want to fight about this. I’m just really stressed right now, and-”

“Again, Harry, so am I! I changed my entire world to come and be with you, and it’s like you don’t even care, or appreciate all the sacrifices I made!”

“What sacrifices? You don’t-”

“You did not just say that,” you breathed. “Are you kidding me? I gave up everything! I left all my family and friends. I can’t go out in public without people taking pictures of me, and posting them, and saying terrible things about me. I’m trying to figure out my new work situation, and my boss is pissed at me all the time. I’m probably going to get fired if I don’t figure something out. I-”

“You act like you’re the only one with work troubles!” he exclaimed. “My entire career is on the line if I don’t start writing again soon. And all this shit in the press- it’s not exactly motivating.”

“It’s affecting my job too. Do you think my company wants to be involved with all the drama about us? It doesn’t look good for them. All the more reason for them to fire me.”

“But it’s worse for me!” he raised his voice to match yours.

“Why is it worse for you, Harry?”

“Because-” He stopped himself, seemingly knowing he had gone too far.

“No, say it. Say why it matters more to you. Because everything about you is more important, isn’t it?”

“That’s not what I meant-”

“But it’s exactly what you meant! You care more about your career than you do about me.”

“That’s not true,” he said, an intense look in his eyes. “You know that’s not true.”

“Really? That’s not how you’ve been acting lately.”

“It’s not like that-'' he exhaled a frustrated sigh. “I’m just saying, all this bad press is really getting to me. I’m going to lose support, and it’s going to be hard for me to get it back.”

“Oh please, you’re Harry Styles,” you spat. “You’re the golden boy of the music industry. You’ll be fine. Other people, like me, are actually in trouble here. I’m actually at risk of losing something!”

“You can just find another job!” He threw his hands up. “I’m more in the public eye, it affects me more. That’s all there is to it.”

“I can’t believe you!” you were on the verge of tears now, simply from how frustrated and angry you were. “It affects you more? You’ve been dealing with this for years. How do you think it feels for me? I’m new to all of this, and you’re acting like I should know how to handle everything.”

“You knew it was going to be like this when you first started dating me!” he argued. “I told you, and you said you didn’t care.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think it would be this miserable!” You said, the first tear rolling down your face.

“Well if you’re so miserable, maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to move in with me.”

This stopped you in your tracks. Everything the two of you had said so far was angry, and in the heat of the moment. But this felt different. It felt like he had crafted this sentence specifically to hurt you, not to voice his feelings about the situation.

“Fine,” you stood up, grabbing your laptop and charger. You walked right past him, out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

“Where are you going?” He called.

You didn’t answer. You went into your closet, pulling out the backpack you used to use for traveling back and forth between your house and Harry’s. You began shoving clothes into it, but made sure not to include any of his shirts or hoodies.

“What are you doing?” Harry came into the room, speaking quietly.

“Packing,” you said shortly.

“Don’t do that,” he frowned. “You can’t just leave.”

“Yes I can,” you shot back, still not looking up at him. You zipped up the bag, brushing past him as you went back downstairs.

“Where-” he followed you quickly. “Where are you going?”

At this point, you realized you didn’t have anywhere to go. You didn’t have any close friends; most of your friends were also Harry’s. And you needed to be with people who didn’t remind you of him right now.

“I’m going home,” you said, finally turning to look at him.

“What?” His face fell.

“I’m leaving. I’m going back home. I can’t be here right now.”

“No- you can’t leave!” he said, his face paling. “You can go stay with Sarah and Mitch, or with Jeff and Glenne- or I’ll get you a hotel room or something, but you can’t-”

“Yes I can, Harry,” you cut him off, repeating your sentence from earlier. “I need my family. I need to see my mom. I- I have to go.” You reached for the door handle, but he stopped you, placing his large hand against the door.

“You can call them,” he said, beginning to look desperate. “Or- or we can even fly them out here. But please don’t do this.”

“You’re the one who told me to leave if I was so miserable here,” you said, trying to stop your chin from wobbling. “So that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“I didn’t mean that! I’m so sorry, I should have never said- I don’t want you to leave. That got way out of hand, I went too far, I’m so sorry.”

“It did. And I can’t be here right now. So let me-” you tried the door again, but he kept it firmly shut.

“Please don't do this,” he whispered. “Please just… stay here tonight. I’ll sleep in the guest room, I won’t bother you if that’s what you need. Or if you really can’t be here, go stay with-”

“No,” you said decisively. “I need to go home. You’re making me feel worse by forcing me to stay here, can’t you see that?”

He dropped his hand away from the door, pressing his lips together. He gave a short nod. “If you have to-” his voice broke, and he quickly cleared his throat before speaking again. “If you really have to leave, then I’ll drive you to the airport. It’s not safe to be out alone this late.”

You shook your head. “I can get a cab, I’m not going to make you-”

“Either I drive you, or you’re not going,” he said firmly. “I need you to be safe.”

You sighed, but nodded, knowing he wouldn’t give in. He was just as stubborn as you were.

-----

You were both silent for the entire drive. Harry didn’t even try to argue with you, which you were grateful for. He seemed to understand that this was what you needed, and he couldn't change your mind.

-----

“Please don’t do this,” he said one final time, watching you walk toward the gate. His heart broke a little more with each step you took.

Even though you wanted to, you didn’t look back. You knew that one look at his sad face would be enough to break you, and you couldn’t let that happen. You needed to go home. You needed your family.

Harry stood at the large window, watching with crossed arms as the plane took off. Once you were officially gone, the first tear slipped down his face.

He made his way out of the busy airport in a daze. He barely registered that he had made it back to his car until he was sitting in the driver’s seat. He reached for the keys, but his hands were shaking so much he couldn’t manage to start the vehicle. Instead, he dropped his head to rest against the steering wheel, and he cried. He couldn’t remember the last time he cried this hard. He felt like he couldn’t breathe; there was a huge weight on his chest.

Had he just lost the love of his life?

-----

He didn’t know how long he sat there, but eventually he realized he needed to get home. He needed to figure out what to do.

As soon as he pulled in the driveway, he pulled out his phone and called Mitch.

“Hello?” Came his friend’s tired voice. It was the middle of the night, after all.

“I need you to come over right now,” Harry rushed. “I fucked up, I fucked up so bad and I don’t know- what am i supposed to do? I can’t do this- I need her!”

“Wait, slow down,” Mitch instructed. “What happened?”

“I- just come over right now,” Harry said, hanging up the phone.

-----

When Mitch arrived, he immediately knew something was very wrong. He had never seen Harry look so torn up. His eyes were red, and he was pacing back and forth while running his hands through his hair.

“What happened?” He asked again. “Where’s Y/N?”

“She’s gone,” Harry said. “She fucking left. She went back home.”

“Is she ok? Did something happen with her family?”

“No, Mitch,” Harry said, scrubbing his hands over his face. “She left because of me. We had a fight- a really bad one. I said some really shitty things, and it got way out of hand, and now she’s gone. I don’t- what am I supposed to do?”

“What did you say? Was it about the articles that came out?”

“Somewhat,” Harry nodded. “She said it was starting to affect her job, and I said it was affecting mine too, and she said she was miserable, and I… told her if she was so miserable she shouldn’t have agreed to move in with me in the first place,” he looked down in shame. He felt terrible as soon as the words left his mouth the first time, but going over the fight with someone else felt ten times worse.

Mitch took a deep breath. “Yeah, that’s... pretty bad.”

“Yeah, no shit it’s pretty bad!” Harry snapped. “Sorry, I’m sorry,” he groaned, falling back on the couch. “I just- what do I do?” He leaned his elbows on his knees, cradling his head in his hands.

“I don’t know,” Mitch admitted. “Did she say when she’s coming back?”

“No,” Harry said miserably. “She just said she needed to go home. I tried to get her to stay, I really did. I said I could get her a hotel room, or ask if she could stay with Jeff or something, but she said she needed her family. The worst thing is… she said she needs to go home. I thought she saw this as her home now. I thought she wanted to be here. I thought she was happy here,” his voice broke, and he dropped his head again. “I don’t… I don't think she loves me anymore.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Mitch shook his head. “Of course she loves you. Do you know how many fights Sarah and I have had? You just have to give her time.”

“Yeah, but did Sarah ever leave the country after you fought?”

“...No,” Mitch sighed. “No, it never got that bad.”

“Exactly,” Harry said, another tear falling down his face.

“She will come back, Harry. She loves you way too much to stay away for good.”

“Not this time,” Harry shook his head. “I think it’s different this time. I honestly don’t know if she’s coming back. I don’t know how to fix this.”

“Well, you have to apologize,” Mitch said. “As soon as her plane lands, call her. Tell her what you told me. Tell her how sorry you are and that it got out of hand and you didn’t mean anything you said.” He paused before speaking again. “You didn’t mean it, did you?”

“Of course I didn’t,” Harry snapped again. “I was just… I’ve been in such a terrible mood, and I took it out on her.” He shook his head, whispering, “I’m so stupid.”

“I’m sure it will work out if you just-” Mitch was interrupted by his phone ringing. “Yeah, he’s alright,” he said into the phone. “I’ll explain when I get home." He paused before sighing. "Again? Ok, I’ll be there in a few,” he said before hanging up. “I’m really sorry, I have to go. The baby’s sick and apparently threw up all over her crib. I have to go help Sarah clean up. Just… tell Y/N the truth, okay? Make sure she knows how much you love her.”

Harry nodded, still looking awful as he raised his head. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Let me know if you need anything else, okay?”

-----

Harry started calling you as soon as Mitch left. He knew you were still on the plane, but he wanted you to hear his apologies as soon as you landed.

“Hi love… I’m so sorry. I don’t even know how to explain how terrible I feel. I didn’t mean anything I said. I was completely out of line, and I shouldn’t have let it go that far. I love you so much and I never wanted to hurt you. Please call me when you get this.”

Then he sent a quick text.

Harry: Let me know when you get to your parents’ house so I know you’re safe. Love you.

After that, he knew there wasn’t much else he could do. He wandered back up to his bedroom, looking at all the pictures the two of you had hung on the walls together. He thought back to the day you had moved in, and how happy you had both been. He remembered when he tried to put a nail in the wall, but swung the hammer at the wrong angle and put a hole in the wall instead. He remembered how shocked you had looked, covering your mouth for a second before you both burst out into laughter.

He remembered sitting on the living room floor and eating Chinese food while you played scrabble. Sure, you had ended up dropping lo mein all over the board, but it was worth it.

There were still traces of you all over the house. Your coffee cup still sat in the sink from this morning. Two of the cabinets were still open, because you always forgot to close them. There was a purple scrunchie on your bedside table, and a blue one on the bathroom vanity, and a white one hooked over one of the kitchen cabinet knobs, because “I never know when I’ll need to put my hair up!”

He couldn’t look anywhere in the house without thinking of you. He didn’t want to be in this big empty space all alone. The only way he could think of to make all the painful memories stop was to go to sleep. So, he did just that. He pulled your pillow against his chest, cuddling it like it was you in his arms. There was the faint smell of your conditioner stuck to the fabric, and he buried his face in it to just breathe you in.

The next two days were the worst Harry had ever been through. He didn’t know what to do with himself. You weren’t answering any of his calls, and your voicemail inbox was full. He kept texting, but you weren’t even reading any of them. He paced all day, trying to occupy himself. If he didn’t think of something to keep him busy, he would just keep texting, and he was sure you were pretty annoyed at this point.

But he couldn’t help himself, so he quickly unlocked his phone and started typing.

Harry: I’m so sorry, I can’t even put it into words. Please just let me know when you’re coming home?

He scrolled up through his previous messages, sighing when he realized how pathetic they sounded.

Harry: Please stop ignoring me, I need to talk to you.

Harry: I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I love you so much, please come home.

Harry: I sound like a broken record, I know, but I just need you to know I feel awful for everything I said.

Harry: I don’t even care how pathetic I sound with all of this, I can’t lose you.

He decided he couldn’t wait anymore. He didn’t even care if you weren’t ready to come back to London yet, but he needed to see you. He stood up from the couch and marched to the front door. He was going to get the next flight out to you.

He whipped the door open, ready to run to his car- and stopped abruptly in his tracks when he was met with your apprehensive face, one hand raised as if you were about to knock.

His eyes went wide, and he froze. He didn’t say anything, and you could hear him breathing heavily. His gaze flickered all around your face, almost as if he couldn’t believe you were really here in front of him.

“Hi,” you said hesitantly, lowering your hand. You opened your mouth to speak again, but he pulled you inside and against him before you could say anything. He held you tightly, arms wrapped against you as if you were going to disappear right before his eyes.

You reached up, putting your arms around his neck as he rocked you gently. His face was buried in your neck, and you could feel his chest shaking.

You just stood there with him, letting him hold you until you could feel his breathing evening out again. After what seemed like hours, he pulled away to look at you. He put his hands on the sides of your face, his eyes flicking between yours desperately as if he still didn’t believe this was real.

“Are you- are you home? Are you staying?” He whispered. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked like he hadn’t slept since you left. The sight was enough to make guilt stab through your chest.

“I’m staying,” you nodded. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He exhaled shakily, pulling you against his chest again. Your head was turned so you could hear his heartbeat, and it still seemed dangerously fast.

“I’m so sorry,” you murmured. “I should never have left.”

“It's ok,” he shook his head. “You’re here now.”

“It’s not ok,” you lifted your head to look at him. “I was angry. But I never should have let you think I was leaving you. That was unfair of me. I said awful things to you too, and I didn’t even say I love you before I left.” Your eyes were watering again, but you blinked back the tears.

“I didn’t… I didn't know if you were going to come back,” he admitted, voice thick with emotion. “I thought I lost you for good.”

You shook your head. “Of course not. I’m here, I promise, and I'm never going to do that again.”

“Good,” he laughed shakily, bringing up a hand to run through his hair. “I was terrified.”

“I know,” you said sadly. “And I feel like such an ass, coming back and just letting you welcome me with open arms. You should probably be really angry with me-”

“I’m not angry,” he quickly shut you down. “I was scared. I was so, so scared. I was about to get on a plane and fly out to you. And of course I’m welcoming you with open arms, I love you. You can always come back to me.”

You nodded, this time letting a tear slip down your face. “I love you too.”

He smiled, wiping the tear with his thumb. “What made you decide to come home?”

“I got there and I expected to feel better. I drove all around town, going past all the spots I used to love. It made me… nostalgic, I guess, but it didn’t comfort me like I expected it to. I went to my parent’s house, and they were great, but all I could think about was the times you’ve visited there with me. I went up to my room, and all I could think about was the time we stayed in there and my bed was way too small so I was basically sleeping on top of you. And how we couldn’t get to sleep because we kept laughing, because your hair was tickling me or I would hit you with my knee. Everything I did made me think of you. And I realized- that town isn’t my home, and neither is that house. This is my home. You are my home.”

His eyes were shining just like yours, and you both reached up to wipe the other’s tears away.

“You’re my home too. And if you want to move closer to your family, we can do that. I don’t care where we live. We can go anywhere in the world, as long as I’m with you.”

[iam93percentstardust]

Hi, happy Shared Birthday Month, cause it's my birthday month as well!! Can I please prompt you a WinterIron, where Bucky and/or winter soldier is a science nerd and a massive Tony Stark stan? Happy with setting in any era, any rating 😄 Thank you! You are amazing and I love your stuff!

Happy late birthday! Sorry it took me a bit to get to this prompt but here is a cute no-powers au, featuring some minor Natasha/Steve and some science from a paper my lab group read in group meeting yesterday (check the ao3 story for the paper citation). Sorry I didn't come up with something more original for the science but this was on my mind.

As always, everything I write is also on ao3.

~

“Okay, Steve, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for me—for us,” Bucky quickly corrects when Steve shoots him an amused look. “So what are we going to do?”

“We’re going to sit quietly in the audience,” Steve says.

“And what are we not going to do?”

“Shout that our best friend would like to bang Tony Stark like a screen door in a hurricane,” Steve dutifully repeats what Bucky has been telling him for the whole drive to the studio. He gives Bucky a sly smile. “Even if it’s true.”

Bucky swats his skinny arm lightly, enough to sting but not so hard that it’ll bruise Steve’s arm, which bruises like a peach. He still can’t believe he managed to win the tickets to watch the live taping of the one hundredth episode of Tony Stark’s show, It’s Only Science If You Write It Down. He’s been following the show since its first episode five years ago. Growing up, Tony Stark was to him what Britney Spears was to other kids. Stark was always in the news for his innovative inventions for his father’s company. Everyone had thought he would take over SI after his parents’ deaths, but instead he’d handed the company over to Pepper Potts, a then-unknown young woman working in SI’s financial department. Stark still held the majority of shares in the company but he’d turned his focus to becoming the next Bill Nye, along with his best friend. Bucky had stumbled across one of the articles about him when he was young and immediately developed one heck of a crush on him that hadn’t at all disappeared with age.

And now he’s here, attending the first ever live taping of Stark’s show.

It’d be a dream come true if only Steve wasn’t the one attending with him. Don’t get him wrong, Stevie’s great, but he’s also convinced Bucky needs to date more often and he’s very… enthusiastic about making sure that everyone they meet that Bucky thinks is even the slightest bit cute knows that.

Stark is the crush to end all crushes. He knows that Steve knows it. He also knows what Steve is like, and he thinks he’ll die of shame if Steve feels the need to let Stark know it too.

“You have your inhaler, right?” he asks as the line creeps forward.

“Yes, mother,” Steve sighs, patting his pocket. “And an EpiPen in the other pocket and my meds in my wallet.”

They’re reminded to keep their phones firmly in their pockets by the surly security guard—incongruously named Happy, according to the badge he’s wearing—at the front door and then ushered inside the studio, only to be stopped by a young woman with a clipboard as they’re climbing the risers.

“Hi,” she says with a sphinxlike smile that makes Bucky want to check that his wallet is still in his pocket. “Which one of you is Bucky Barnes?”

“Uh, that would be me,” he says, raising his hand slightly.

Her eyes catch on the silver sheen of his prosthetic. They don’t register anything other than idle curiosity, but Bucky still awkwardly tucks the arm away. It’s been almost ten years since the accident, but he’s still not used to the looks he gets when people see it.

“I’m Natasha,” she says. “Mr. Stark’s personal assistant. JARVIS noticed you when you entered the studio. Mr. Stark wanted me to inform you both that there’s been a change to the contest winnings.”

Dread starts to pool in Bucky’s stomach but it doesn’t have long to settle before her smile gentles and she adds, “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. He just wanted to invite the two of you backstage after the show is over.”

Bucky’s mouth drops open. Steve reaches over to close it and asks, “Why?”

To Bucky’s surprise, Natasha gives Steve a clear onceover, seemingly pleased by what she sees. “Mr. Stark wouldn’t like me to give away his secrets, but I’d imagine it has something to do with the way he spilled his coffee all over his front when he saw your friend’s picture.”

“Really?” Steve asks skeptically. “A notorious playboy tripping all over himself for this yahoo here?”

Natasha laughs, hard enough that Bucky mutters, “It wasn’t that funny.”

Once she’s calmed down, Natasha says, “He’s not as bad as you think. A lot of it is just reputation. And yes, as soon as he got a look at him, he was demanding I figure out a way to get him backstage.”

“What am I, chopped liver?” Steve demands, taking an indignant stance.

Natasha hums, eyes going dark. “Oh no, you got invited backstage because I wanted to meet you,” she purrs. “I’ll come find you boys later. Enjoy the show.”

She saunters off, putting just enough of a sway to her step that Bucky suspects if he were attracted to women, he’d be mesmerized. As it is, he’s the one who has to reach over to close Steve’s jaw this time.

They take their seats and a few minutes later, Tony Stark and James Rhodes walk on set. They’re quietly talking to each other as the crew bustles around them, makeup artists darting up to make sure their faces look perfect. Stark is dressed in a t-shirt that says Engineers do it on the test bench—which is a terrible joke really and shouldn’t make Bucky want to laugh as much as he does—and well-worn jeans that perfectly mold to the shape of his bubble butt. Rhodes could be dressed in a paper sack for all that Bucky notices him.

Steve leans over and whispers, “You sure that I can’t yell that you want to bang Tony Stark like a screen door in a hurricane? Natasha made it sound like he’d be open to it.”

“You do,” Bucky hisses back, “and I’ll tell Natasha you were looking at her rear when she walked away.”

Steve makes an indignant noise and sits back in his chair, sulkily crossing his arms.

“Quiet on set!” the director yells. “And… action!”

“Hi!” Tony Stark says, smiling right at the camera. “I’m Tony and this is Rhodey and you’re watching Disney Channe!”

“He’s kidding,” Rhodes says long-sufferingly. “You’re watching It’s Only Science If You Write It Down.”

Later, Bucky wouldn’t be able to tell anyone what the show had been about. He’d spent the entire show too entranced by Tony’s voice and charisma to pay any attention to the actual science, which is a bit of a shame. He really does like science—he wouldn’t be getting his PhD in physical chemistry if he didn’t—but he can’t tear his eyes away from Tony long enough to actually watch the experiment. It’s fine; he can always watch the show later when it’s released (and maybe, if he’s lucky, he’ll have Tony to watch it with).

It seems like both an eternity and only a moment before the show wraps. Tony and Rhodes leave to thunderous applause, only coming back out for quick bows before disappearing backstage again. Bucky and Steve stay seated while the rest of the audience filters out slowly until Natasha comes to get them. She and Steve chat quietly as she leads them backstage but Bucky can only listen with half an ear; he’s too nervous about meeting his personal hero.

Rhodes is leaving the room Natasha leads them to. He breathes a sigh of relief when he spots the three of them. “Good, you’re here,” he says, specifically looking at Bucky. “Maybe you can calm him down. He’s been bouncing off the walls since he saw your picture.”

“Really?” Bucky squeaks. He clears his throat and tries again. “Really?”

“Really. He read all your papers last night—twice.”

“He has?”

Rhodes nods. “He really likes your piece on inelastic electron wave packet scattering.”

“Yeah? What did he—”

“You’ll have to ask him,” Rhodes interrupts. “I might be a rocket scientist but chemistry isn’t my preferred field of science. If you don’t mind, I’ve got a date to get to.”

He pushes the door open, letting them in, and leaves. Natasha slips through the door, followed immediately by Tony saying, “Where are—oh god, they left, didn’t they? I knew this was too much. Nat—”

“They’re right outside,” Natasha says smoothly. She opens the door further, revealing the two of them awkwardly standing there. Bucky’s gaze darts around a fairly nice dressing room before finally landing on Tony, who is blinking back at him with a wide-eyed, slightly stunned look.

“Hi,” he breathes out.

The corner of Tony’s mouth twitches up in the tiniest of smiles. “Hi.”

“Great, now that that’s out of the way, get out,” Natasha says, giving Tony a shove so that he stumbles out of the room, right into Bucky’s arms. She reaches out and grabs Steve, pulling him inside. “Don’t disturb me for the next hour.”

“Uh,” Steve begins, but he doesn’t actually look upset by this turn of events, so Bucky doesn’t worry—too much, anyway.

He does, however, turn to Tony and ask, “Is he going to be okay?”

“Oh yeah, he’s fine,” Tony says breezily. “Natasha’s just very direct.”

“Right.”

Now that it’s just the two of them alone in the hallway, it’s a little more awkward. Bucky opens his mouth twice to say something, only to shut it again as soon as he realizes his question is stupid. For his part, Tony shoves his hands deep into his pockets and rocks back and forth on his feet.

Then the sound of what is obviously Steve moaning floats through the door. Bucky cringes and jerks his thumb in the direction of the door. “We should—”

“Yep,” Tony agrees.

They get all the way back to the set before they stop. They look at each other for a beat before dissolving into giggles. “Oh my god,” Tony says, clutching his sides. “I knew she moved fast but—”

“Well, Steve doesn’t move fast at all,” Bucky says, “so you can see where I’m a bit lost.”

That sets Tony off into another round of laughter. Bucky is calming down a bit so he takes the moment to admire the way Tony laughs with his entire body. It takes Tony a moment to realizes he’s being stared at. When he does, his laugh tapers off as he gives Bucky a lingering look.

“I’m Tony,” he says eventually.

“Bucky.”

“Wow, that’s really unfortunate.”

“You’re not wrong,” Bucky agrees. “Blame Stevie for that one.”

“Childhood friends, huh?”

“Literally played naked together in the kiddie pool.”

Tony grins. “That sounds familiar.”

“You and Rhodes—”

“Oh no, but if you ever get the chance to meet Janet Van Dyne, remember to ask her about the time she thought she could make a living selling mud pies.”

Bucky takes a moment to marvel that this is his life now, that Tony thinks nothing of giving him dirt on the most prolific fashion designer of their generation. “So, uh, Rhodes told me you read my papers?”

Tony’s eyes light up, and, wow, he looks really pretty when he’s excited. “Yes!” he exclaims. “I want to hear your thoughts on the—uh—the time-dependent density functional theory model.”

“I’d love to,” Bucky says honestly. He bites his lip. “Maybe over coffee?”

A delighted smile spreads across Tony’s face. “I’d really like that.”

He holds out his hand for Bucky to take, which he does. Tony’s hand is small and warm, fitting perfectly against his. They stand there, smiling at each other like idiots, until the surly security guard pokes his head around the corner and asks, “Boss, do you need me to drive you?”

Tony jumps. He shoots Bucky a sheepish grin and then calls over his shoulder, “No, I think we can walk, Happy.”

“Are you sure? There’s—”

“It’s only two blocks.”

“Yeah, but—”

“You know what, Happy. You should go see if Natasha needs you to drive her somewhere. I think she’s got a date too.” While Happy is distracted, Tony tugs Bucky towards a side door he hadn’t noticed earlier. “Come on,” he mutters. “Before Natasha decides to kill me for sending Happy to interrupt her.”

“You could not antagonize her,” Bucky points out.

Tony shoots him a mischievous grin. “Where’s the fun in that?”

[padfoot-and-prongsie]

Sneaking Around || Fred Weasley

Character: Fred Weasley

Word Count: 4.3k

Requested: No, but feel free to send some in!

Summary: Your Slytherin friends would never approve of your boyfriend, but then again, who said they had to know?

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, Umbridge, Slytherins being bullies, sexual innuendos

Disclaimer: I did not make this gif, credit to the lovely person who did

A/N: School has certainly kept me busy, but this is finally up! This fic was written for @theweasleysredhair 9k writing contest with the trope “secretly dating” and the prompt “I could kiss you write now”. I hope ya’ll like it <3

PLEASE DO NOT COPY OR STEAL MY WORK. REBLOGS ARE JUST FINE :)

The throng of students going back to the school was filled with loud chatter over the results of the Quidditch match, but you weren’t joining in. No, instead you were frantically scanning the crowds the moment you stepped out of the locker room, hoping you could catch a glimpse of red hair.

Montague was beside you, a sickly grin on his face despite the loss. In his and Malfoy’s opinions, the match had been a success, as last they saw George Weasley and Harry Potter they had all but been dragged off the pitch by McGonagall.

“Try to aim a little better next time, L/N,” Montague said. “With Weasley defending the goal it shouldn’t be that difficult to score points.”

“Well tell Goyle to get a bit more accurate,” you snapped back. “I can’t do anything with fucking Spinnet on me the whole time.”

Though it hurt to spit that out, Montague didn’t notice. None of them ever did. You really would deserve an award for the incredible acting you had done over the past year.

Montague made a face. “There’s only so much I can do with that oaf. Just step it up, L/N.”

You mock saluted him as he walked away, before quickly restarting your search for the all to familiar Weasley.

But once more you were stopped short when Malfoy caught up to you on the grass path back to the school.

He was quietly humming Weasley is Our King under his breath, an action that made you desperately want to punch him in the face. He already had a wad of cotton shoved up his nose from the last person who did that, and you could see some light bruises beginning to form on his arms. If he was in pain, he didn’t show it, though you had a feeling he would have the act ready for dinner that night.

“I’m looking to add some new verses to the song, any ideas?” he asked, falling into step beside you.

You shrugged hoping your shoulders weren’t as tense as they felt. If he had asked you last year you would have had a long string of words to call the Weasley family, but now you could hardly bring yourself to even hum the tune.

“I don’t know,” you finally answered, hoping he would get off your back.

Draco didn’t take the hint. “I need some rhymes for ugly and loser,” he said, a sadistic smirk on his face as he brought up the words that had sent Potter and George over the edge.

“How about you’re a real loser so talking to you is quite a snoozer,” you muttered, “and I know you’re already to begin with quite ugly, but you need to upgrade your fangirls, they’re a little to fugly,” you finished, eyeing Parkinson a few yards away who was bouncing up and down on her toes as she waited for Draco.

“Fuck you,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. “You're terrible help, you know that right?”

You ignored him, not even bothering to look back as he stepped off towards where Parkinson, Crabbe, and Goyle were waiting. Merlin you hated Draco Malfoy and tried to make that plenty obvious when he was around, but for some reason he kept coming back. At least you managed to take a few jabs at his ego. You were rather pleased with your little poem, if you did say so yourself.

You were all the way up to the castle when a small paper bird fluttered over to you, it’s delicate wings flapping wildly as it battled the wind. It landed gracefully on your palm, neatly unfolding itself to reveal the scrawled out message inside.

7th floor, back corridor, behind the tapestry of the One Eyed Witch

8 o'clock

It wasn’t signed but by now you were well familiar with the messy handwriting and a smile lit your face as you thought of the Weasley you had been looking for earlier. Glancing quickly over your shoulder to make sure Draco and his goons were far enough away, you hastily shoved the parchment in your pocket and continued on your way.

By now you were well used to the odd meeting choices, the cramped alcoves under the stairs and the dusty long forgotten classrooms. Yet as unpleasant as they could be sometimes, the exhilaration of sneaking around, the thrill of not getting caught, left your heart racing.

You could hardly focus during dinner that night, trying your best not to send too many glances over to the Gryffindor table. The red and gold were all in different stages of gloom, their eyes dull and smiles non-existent ever since they heard the recent news about the state of some of their best quidditch players. Potter, George, and Fred had both been banned for life on Umbridge’s orders, which had led to a buzz of glee around the Slytherin table as they gossiped excitedly over the news.

You did your best to sound just as thrilled, laughing over the Gryffindor’s bad fortune, pitying Malfoy when he dramatically limped over to the table, and snickering with the rest of them as Pansy and Draco worked on more verses to their song. But anyone who looked close enough could see the white of your knuckles as you gripped your glass of pumpkin juice, they way you had to restrain yourself from crushing the glass as they laughed at the expense of the Weasley family.

By 8 o’clock you were so fed up with the Slytherins that you were more than happy to flee from the common room, pounding up the many flights of stairs to reach the seventh floor.

You followed the instructions you had been given, navigating your way through the halls until you found the large tapestry that had been mentioned.

You slowly pulled it aside and immediately got hit by the strong stench of dust and mold. But you didn’t care about the smell, for almost instantly a strong pair of arms were wrapped around you and let out a giggle as you were spun around, before pressing a kiss to Fred’s lips.

Fred Weasley was grinning back at you, the light in his eyes that had been lost at dinner back as he took in your smiling face.

He kissed you again hard, pouring all his frustration and stress that had built up in the last week into it as his mouth moved roughly against yours.

When you pulled back for air, you were finally able to take him in. His cheeks were flushed red, and his hair had already taken on a tousled appearance from your fingers running through it. Fred’s eyes were bright with happiness as he looked back at you, his lips quirked up in the Fred Weasley smile you loved so much. But as you glanced down, you could make out the subtle hue of bruises forming on his arms from where Angelina, Alicia, and Katie had been gripping on to him for dear life to prevent him from attacking Draco just hours earlier.

Fred followed your gaze. “I got banned you know,” he finally said, the sadness creeping back into his eyes.

“Yeah, I heard,” you replied downheartedly.

“I didn’t even do anything to that prat,” Fred continued. “If I knew that hag would ban me anyway I would have punched every inch of Malfoy’s fucking body.”

You could see the anger spike in his eyes and you quickly placed a hand on his chest.

“Calm down, Freddie,” you said softly, waiting for his heart rate to return to normal. “I should have made them stop,” you whispered, “all I did was sit there and watch, I feel horrible.”

“Don’t apologize love, there’s nothing you could have done without anyone getting suspicious.” Fred said, absently running his hand through your hair.

“Suspicious of us?” you laughed. “I think we do a rather good job if I do say so myself.”

Fred’s smile returned. “Yes we are pretty secretive,” his lips quirk into a smirk and he pressed his mouth against yours. “Abandoned classrooms, ducking into alcoves,” he whispered against your lips. “There’s something sexy-” at that word his hands slipped lower, giving your bottom a squeeze “- about sneaking around.”

“Are you groping my ass?” you asked, humor dancing in your eyes.

Fred’s smirk widened and he placed another kiss on your lips. “What would you do if I was?”

“I’d tell you to stop wasting your time talking when you could have me up against that wall,” you whispered, biting your lip.

Fred’s eyes darkened in lust. “You really are little Slytherin, so coy at getting what you want.”

You smirked. “What can I say? That Sorting Hat picked right.”

“It sure did,” Fred agreed huskily, walking you back towards the wall.

As your body pressed against the stone you jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist and dragging his mouth down to meet yours.

Needless to say, you and Fred snuck out forty five minutes later, well passed curfew and both looking rather disheveled.

“Don’t get caught going back,” Fred whispered, glancing both ways down the hall.

“I won’t,” you assured him. “Besides, if I do Umbridge will probably get me out of it, she seems to have taken a liking in me.” 

You gave him a pointed look. “It’s you I’m worried about, one bad step and she’ll expel you.”

Fred shrugged. “I’ve stopped worrying about that ever since she came to town.”

You sighed. “Just don’t do anything stupid yet, okay?”

“Okay okay,” Fred agreed grinning. “Just for you I won't.”

“Thanks,” you smiled, standing up on your tiptoes to kiss him. “I’ll see you later.”

Fred pulled you in to kiss you once more, then let you go, being sure you were well down the corridor before he himself snuck off in the other direction.

You managed to make it back to the Slytherin common room undetected, only running into Mrs. Norris, who you stunned, then slipped by before she came to. The Slytherin common room was still bright with life at 9 oclock on a Saturday night, but no one questioned you when you walked in. Most students had snuck out past curfew their fare share of times, so they wrote you off as being no different then themselves

Doing your best to hide the grin on your face that usually came after being with Fred, you slipped upstairs to the girl’s dorms. Only one of your roommates was there, sorting through her trunk, but after exchanging pleasantries she left to go downstairs.

Falling onto your bed, you let out a sigh, the smile finally getting to appear on your face. Merlin this boy was going to be the death of you.

You had met Fred at the beginning last year after you both landed yourselves a week's worth of detention with McGonagall. At the time you had thought the redhead was the biggest prick you knew, and in turn, he saw you as a stuck up brat. Somehow though, amidst trophy cleaning, quiz grading, and classroom organizing, you had taken a liking to him. There was something about that easy smile and stupid sense of humor that got to you, and in turn, your quick wit and dry sarcasm had left him smitten.

It had been over a week after your time together in detention when you had seen Fred again, this time when he had come up behind you during passing time and, with a firm grip on your wrist, proceeded to pull you behind a statue in one of the more quiet corridors of Hogwarts.

“What the hell are you doing Weasley!” you had hissed, frantically looking around to make sure no one was near.

Instead of answering, Fred had gently placed his hands on either side of your face, fixing you with an intense gaze that left your heart racing.

“What are you doing?” you had whispered again softly, unconsciously stepping closer to him.

“For some idiotic reason, I can’t stop thinking about you,” Fred had said.

“Really?” you’d breathed, your heart starting to pound more fiercely.

“And for some even more idiotic reason,” Fred had continued. “I really want to know what it’s like to kiss you.”

The speed of your racing heart increased and you unconsciously found yourself glancing at his lips

Fred noticed, a smirk spreading across his mouth. In one flourish of motion you were pressed against his chest with his lips only inches from yours.

“But our houses,” you had whispered, looking up at his dark eyes.

A smirk had slowly spread across Fred’s face. “Who says anyone has to know?”

And then he had kissed you, hard, and from that moment forward you had completely and utterly fallen for Fred Weasley.

~

“Professor Umbridge wants to see you in her office,” a voice behind you said, causing you to jump violently, dropping the book you had been reading.

Turning in annoyance, you glared at Draco, who was behind you snickering.

“Prick,” you muttered under your breath, reaching down to pick up your book with the intention of continuing it.

“She really does want to see you,” Draco said.

Instantly you froze, your mind drifting to Fred.

“Why?” you managed to squeak out.

Draco gave you a suspicious look. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “She wanted me to round up a good lot of us. Your name was on the list.”

You let out a sigh of relief.

“Okay then,” you said, getting up from the couch, your demeanor returning to normal again. “Her office?”

Draco nodded. “I have to go tell Zabini and Montague, but I’ll meet you up there.”

“Sounds good,” you responded, stepping past him to leave the common room.

When you reached the office of Professor Umbridge, you were rather surprised to find its door ajar. Tentatively pushing it open, you were greeted by an extremely pink room and at least fifteen other Slytherins looking just as confused as you were.

“Ahh, Ms. L/N, thank you for coming,” said a high pitched voice that made your blood boil.

“Of course Professor. Thank you for inviting me,” you replied, a fake smile on your face.

She let out a little giggle. “Oh do I have a treat for you.”

She quickly ushered you over to stand with the rest of the group, then, once Draco showed up with the rest of the recruits, quickly clapped her hands for attention.

“I have received some shocking news,” she started, a grave look on her face. “It seems Harry Potter has formed a club. A club which wasn’t approved by me, and a club to teach others illegal and dangerous magic.” She paused dramatically.

For effect, you raised your eyebrows in surprise, though inside you were suddenly filled with a deep sense of dread. Anything Potter was involved with had a high chance Fred would be there too.

“Now, from a source we have learned where these meetings are being held, and it turns out there is one tonight. You all have been chosen by me to come stop this atrocity and give proper punishment to those involved.” Professor Umbridge's sickly smile widened. “Your services will be greatly rewarded by the minister himself.”

Around you, you could feel the Slytherins buzz in excitement, their smiles widening at a chance to get the Gryffindor's into trouble. Your smile was equally wide, but inside your nerves were piling up.

“They’re on the seventh floor, in the left corridor, across the painting of Barnabas the Barmy,” she said, jumping up and down on her stubby legs, a look of glee in her eyes. “Go catch them.”

There was a flourish of movement as everyone made for the door, pushing up the stairs and trying to be the first to catch the wrongdoers. You too were pushing to the front, but not because you wanted recognition from the ministry, but because you desperately wanted to be the one to catch Fred in hopes that you could find a way to get him out unscathed.

As you reached the seventh floor, it seemed the Gryffindors had been given a heads up, as swarms of people were running out of a doorway you had never seen before. Upon closer observation, you realized that there were far more than a few Gryffindors, as Umbridge had suggested, but in fact there were more than fifty people from a wide range of houses sprinting down the hall.

“Get them!” Umbridge shrieked from behind you, and you instantly took off, shoving your way through the chaos.

Fred and George ran from the Room of Requirement, for once not joking about their predicament. Behind them, Harry was quickly running around, trying to usher everyone out as a mob of Slytherins filled the corridor.

Together with George, Fred ducked down one of the side corridors, hoping he could make it to the boys bathroom that was only another turn away.

But before he knew it, his legs locked together and he tumbled to the floor, quickly shouting at George to run as he tried to squirm away from his captor.

Fred felt a hand grip tightly to his shoulder, pulling him up from the floor as another jinx whizzed by him towards his brother. George managed to duck it, but from behind Fred, Montague came running by, his wand in hand as he chased the other redheaded twin.

Fred reached for his wand to hex the Slytherin, but someone behind him got to it first, shooting a jinx that caused Montague to stiffen up, before falling face first on the floor.

The grip on Fred tightened, and he felt the spell on his legs release as he was suddenly able to walk as his captor pulled him down the other hallway.

Fred, sensing an opportunity, kicked his left leg back, trying to throw the Slytherin off balance, but they easily dodged it, dancing out of the way of his weak attempt at escaping.

“Merlin Freddie, that’s the thanks I get?” they asked, and Fred quickly turned in surprise to see you looking at him in amusement, a smirk playing at your lips.

“Love?” he asked, his eyebrows shooting up. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to save your arse,” you replied, a slight grin on your face.

Fred looked at you as if he were seeing you for the first time. “Damn that was so hot,” he breathed, “I could kiss you right now.”

Your heart gave a little flutter, but you tried to keep your expression neutral. “Let’s put a pause on that for right now,” you said, as Ernie McMillan ran by with Theodore Nott hot on his heels.

“I’ll hold you to it,” Fred grinned.

You rolled your eyes, then glanced around the hallway, but amidst all the chaos you hoped nobody had noticed your quick exchange.

“Just do me a favor and look pissed off and try to put up a bit of a fight,” you instructed. “I know a place where we can hide.”

Fred didn’t respond, instead quickly reverting his expression to one of anger as he pretended to pull away from your hold, though making sure he didn’t do so hard enough that you couldn’t drag him down the corridor.

Once you were out of sight of the madness of the main hall, you pulled Fred in after you into one of the secret passageways he had shown you last year. It was cramped and not well lit, but the tunnel was suited well enough for the two of you to stay in until the corridors cleared.

“Were you the one who hexed me back there?” Fred asked the instant the passage was sealed.

You shrugged. “I had to make it look convincing.”

“But why? Couldn’t you have just let us run off?” Fred pressed.

“Crabbe and Goyle had circled around to block that end, I couldn’t risk you going that way,” you replied.

“George went that way though,” Fred said, his eyes filled with concern for his brother.

You sighed. “There wasn’t much I could do in the moment,” you admitted, “I was more focused on you. I did jinx Montague for him, so hopefully that gave him enough of a head start,” you added with a laugh.

Fred grinned. “That was a rather good one.”

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” you said, amusement dancing in your eyes. “It’s probably the highlight of my year.”

Fred put on a face of mock hurt. “You mean I’m not the highlight of your year?” he asked dramatically.

You rolled your eyes. “You make a close second,” you teased.

A smirk creeped across Fred’s face and he suddenly pulled you up against his chest, his lips brushing against yours. 

“Let’s see if I can get myself into first,” he said cockily.

~

It wasn’t until after the Easter holidays when you saw Fred again, and this time, due to a new Educational Degree (number twenty nine if you were being exact) you had a silver I hooked to your robes and about the same amount of power as the teachers.

“How’s that Inquisitorial Squad going for you?” Fred asked, the moment you stepped into your latest meeting space.

“It’s so stupid,” you complained rolling your eyes. “It just inflates Malfoy’s head more than it already is and gives Slytherins a chance to pick on everyone.”

Fred wore an amused smile on his face. “It seems you’re taking advantage of this new found power too,” he commented lazily.

“Zacharias Smith is a twat and everyone knows it, so I don’t particularly care how many points I dock him,” you stated bluntly.

Fred snorted at your response. “Bloody hell I love that about you.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Love what?”

Fred laughed, pulling you towards him so he could kiss you once on the lips.

“How when somebody pisses you off you are so determined about getting back at them,” he finally said.

“Most people say it’s one of my worst traits,” you managed to get out as Fred’s lips began attacking your neck.

“It’s actually rather adorable,” Fred hummed against your skin.

“Fred?” you asked quietly, a thought suddenly popping into your head.

“Yes love?”

“Was there something you needed to talk to me about?”

Fred detached himself from your neck to properly look at you.

“It’s just that you said you wanted to see me and we only just got back two hours ago,” you stuttered quickly, suddenly feeling you had gotten the wrong idea. “Not that of course this isn’t a good reason,” you motioned between the two of you.

A slight smile spread across Fred’s lips. “Your two observant for your own good,” he said jokingly.

“What is it then, what’s wrong?” you asked, every possible reason filling your mind.

“Nothings wrong,” Fred quickly reassured you. “But you told be not to do anything stupid yet at the beginning of the year,” he paused, “that ‘yet’ has finally come.”

Your eyes widened. “What are you going to do?”

“Harry needs some help, so George and I offered ours, though I doubt we’ll get through this without being expelled,” he said, pausing to gage your reaction.

Your eyebrows had shot up and your jaw dropped. “What?! Why would you do that?”

“Because love, George and I don’t see the need to continue our education-”

“But what about-” you tried to interrupt.

Fred held up his index finger. “Just give me a minute to explain.”

“Okay,” you agreed, though your face still held a look of concern.

“We bought a shop,” Fred continued, “Harry gave us his Triwizard winnings so we bought one in Diagon Alley. You’re the first person that knows, and well, we were going to wait until after this school year but now with Dumbledore gone and that hag taking over the school, you’re the only reason left for me to stay.”

Fred looked you in the eyes. “That’s why I had to ask, can I do one last stupid thing? I am so in love with you Y/N, and you know that and if you want me to stay I will, and I promise nothing will change. I’ll be happy either way because I have you. I just knew I could never leave you here without first asking if you would be okay.”

A swell of love for the boy sitting across from you filled your chest and the concern had left your face. In its place, a single tear rolled down your cheek as you looked at the boy who had just told you he would leave all his dreams behind for you.

“Of course you can go Fred, I could never hold you back from that,” you said, letting him pull you against his chest. “But what about-” you looked up at him “-what about us?”

Fred grinned, kissing you once on the lips. “We’ll get to finally be together,” he answered softly. “There’s a flat above the shop, George has his space, we’ll have ours.”

“But George doesn’t know about us,” you protested. “What if he doesn’t-”

Fred cut you off by placing another kiss on your mouth. “If I have to marry you with only the two of us and the official at the service, then that would be enough. I don’t care about what he thinks about you and me.”

“Marrying me?” you whispered.

Fred interlaced his hand with yours. “The moment you graduate if you want love. Then we’ll never have to be apart for more than a second.”

You looped your arms around his neck, kissing him hard. “I love you so much Fred Weasley,” you whispered against his lips.

“And I love you a thousand times more,” he replied, his mouth barely leaving yours.

Fred tugged your thighs and you jumped up, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist.

“Now,” Fred said, and you could feel his smirk against your lips. “Why don’t we make this a night to remember.”

~

Taglist: Ask to be added! @missmulti @girl-next-door-writes @28cnn @thedarlinghufflepuff @rocket-svt

[alfredosauce50]

Ghost of jealousy [Possessive! America x reader]

Wordcount: 5,545 Synopsis: Alfred gets upset when he finds you hanging around Mathias during his Halloween party. You tell him he’s your friend, but everything escalates into an argument, so he takes it outside to his car. He regrets everything he’s done, but you refuse to talk to him while he drives off to find some lodging for the night—an old inn. While you avoid him by staying in a separate room, it becomes apparent there’s something very off about this place. Something otherworldly. Will he make it up to you by saving you before something terrible happens? 

(I was inspired by this song by Michael Jackson, “Ghosts”) The reader is referred to as she/her.

It didn’t bother you that Alfred always disappeared during his parties. He was the host, after all, and you were merely another attendee, boyfriend or not. There were guests to interact with, excitement to arouse, and the general gist of event-running. So while he was off doing his business, you loitered around in the kitchen with one of your friends. You were dressed as a mermaid, with a seashell bra and all, while Mathias was in his pirate get-up.

Here away from the incessant pounding of Halloween classics and chatter, you could actually hear him talk. "I think it’s cute that we’re matching! Are you sure you didn’t wear this on purpose just so we could look like a couple?" He grinned, earning a small gasp from you.

"Hey! It’s not my problem you wear the same thing every year, Mathias. I—on the other hand, change it up." You gloated a little at that, giving his hip a light bump. He had been sipping a cup of punch, but spilled some as a result. "Ah! Jeez.” Because it was so dark, with only jack-o-lanterns and fairy lights to illuminate the house, you never even realized.

"What’s wrong?”

"Why don’t you smell my coat to find out?” He hummed mischievously. Cupping a hand around your head, he pulled you in and pressed your face against a mysterious wet patch.

"Ew! What was that?!" You pulled away and rubbed your cheek as he exploded into a fit of laughter.

"... Juice?"

"That’s right, min prinsesse. And it’s all your fault." Leaning in with his hands on his hips, he tapped your nose. A dash of guilt was present in your eyes, so he quickly added this. "Don’t look so stressed, (F/N)! I always forgive what you do to me. Mostly. This time, if you wanna make up for it, you’ll have to go to our after-party for once!"

You blinked. "After-party? You mean with just you and Lukas and everyone?" He nodded excitedly. The question was innocent enough, but really, you had another concern in the back of your mind. Every year, you and Alfred would spend a night together after the festivities. You could only imagine how upset he’d get if that didn’t happen. He always valued the time together with you, even to the point of being a little excessive. "Mm... I don’t know. Alfred and I usually do something afterward. I’ll ask him."

His wide grin faltered a touch. Alfred this, Alfred that. Mathias couldn’t exactly say he was jealous—though he’d joke about it, a lot—but wasn’t he a little controlling sometimes? "Mm, mm. Not good enough. I won’t take no for an answer!" Scooping you up in a bridal style carry, you let out a small yelp and reached out for his neck to stabilize yourself. "Let the King of Scandinavia save you from the evil clutches of American capitalism!"

"Mathias, you idiot!" You hissed through a flustered expression, but you couldn’t deny you were enjoying yourself. While he laughed away, bouncing you in his arms, you bonked him on the head numerous times. "Put. Me. Down!"

"Ow. Ah! Okay, okay, stop hitting me!" The Dane was as big of a goofball as your boyfriend, but just less serious most of the time. That was right. As your relationship with Alfred progressed, he was less easy-going than he initially seemed. More stubborn. Argumentative. And you never imagined how soon you would see this side of him.

"What’s this about saving (F/N) from the evil clutches of American capitalism?"

The chorus of you and Mathias’s laughter came to an abrupt end. Uh oh. Turning to the voice, you found yourself staring at none other than your boyfriend, dressed in a long orange coat with a Jason Vorhee's mask on the side of his head. And his arms were crossed with an unamused expression. Only then did you feel yourself get set down to the floor. Great. "Alfred, hey! We were just talking about his after-party. You know, the one where they have a lego-building contest?"

"Mhm. Sounds fun. But we’re doing something even better." Reaching out to your hand, he pulled you away from your friend, much to your displeasure. Mathias didn’t look all too happy either. Alfred then managed a small smile, but it was a little strained. "So c’mon, babe. Most of the party’s events are ending, anyway. Let’s go to my car." He squeezed you in his grip and turned to leave, all with you in tow.

But you weren’t having it. Couldn’t he at least let you explain yourself a little better, considering how upset he seemed already? You stopped, the action pulling on his arm so he would too. "Wait, Al. He asked if I wanted to go, and I kinda want to. Just this one time, please? Lukas, Berwald, Tino, and Emil are gonna be there too—" The fact that you were listing all these names only made it blatantly obvious who was in right, and who was in the wrong.

All you were asking for was some time with your friends. But he played the jealous boyfriend role all too well.

He turned to you with a frown. It was annoying enough to see Mathias carrying you like that. But going to a sleepover with him? He couldn’t be any less enthusiastic. "No, (F/N). Halloween is our thing. We’re supposed to spend the night together like we always do." Reaching out to your cheek, he caressed it gently. "You can hang out with them any other day of the year. Just not today."

Unlike other times, you didn’t give in. He already showed up with an attitude, so sweet-talking wasn’t going to cut it. Especially when you felt Mathias’s hand on your shoulder. The thought that he was behind you and trying to calm you down only egged you on to stand your ground. "Any other day? You’d have to exclude Valentine’s Day, Christmas, New Year’s, and St. Patty’s as well. I never get to celebrate them with my friends, either, so can’t you let me go this one time?"

The room fell silent. Even with the Dane’s friends present, nobody spoke a word. And nobody had to because they all shared one thought.

Alfred was being way too controlling.

Almost as if he could read their minds, he felt himself crumble under their scrutiny. "I’m not talking about this here with you." Without another word, he pulled you out of the house against your will.

"And why not? Is it because Mathias is here?" You retorted, feeling bile rise in your throat.

Once you and he disappeared out the door, Lukas made a brief comment.

"... He really has to stop doing that." 

“Yep. Man, I wish he’d just step on a lego." The blonde heaved out a sigh. 

"Fair enough."

Once Alfred managed to get you outside his car, he turned to you to finally give you an answer. "And what if it is because he’s there, (F/N)?" He exasperated, already feeling his tongue start slipping now that he was alone with you. And his words only held more impact against the deafening silence of the night. "The reason why I don’t want you hanging out with them on special occasions is cuz’ he’s in the group.”

“Why? Do you hate him or something? But that’s got nothing to do with me!" You ripped your hand from his grip to see his eyes widen with shock. This was the first time you ever lashed out, so he could already feel the inklings of regret well in his chest. He should’ve just shut his trap and let you go.

But something told him he would’ve never let that happen.

"They’re my friends, Alfred! You can’t expect me to pass on every invite they give me just because you don’t like someone!"

He dug his hands through his sandy locks of hair stressfully. 

"That’s the thing! Mathias obviously doesn’t just wanna be friends with you! He likes you, I can tell!" He yelled. 

The cat was finally out of the bag now. What had been plaguing his mind for months was this—competition. And he hoped that admitting it would somehow get you to understand his behavior, no matter how uncalled for it had been.

But you didn’t. You refused to.

Your jaw dropped, but not out of surprise. Instead, it was pure disappointment. "Even if he did, are you saying you don’t trust me with him?" You scoffed, folding your arms at him.

At this point, Alfred knew how bad he fucked up.

"No, that’s not what I—" His brows knitted together, and his cerulean blue eyes welled with moisture. "I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. I just..." But it was.

Wasn’t it?

Otherwise, why else was he so possessive of you?

"It’s exactly what you meant. If it wasn’t, you’d be defending yourself by now." A small smile curled up at your lips, and it was from anything but mirth. It was your defense mechanism to keep the waterworks at bay, but even that had failed you. The tears finally came spilling over the rim, streaming down your face as he watched on with guilt.

"Even if you hate him, he’s not what you think he is. It wouldn’t matter if he loved me. He wouldn’t do anything because he respects me." Reaching up to your eyes, you rubbed them, but the effort was in vain as you let out a sob. "If you’re so quick to doubt me, then maybe..." You struggled to string together the words as you continued to cry. "Maybe we shouldn’t..."

Maybe we shouldn’t be together anymore. 

Alfred froze. Anything but that. And yet, you had all the right in the world to think of ending things. But his heart couldn’t take it.

"No, no, no... Don’t you finish that sentence..." You would probably hate him after this, but kissing you was what he first thought of. The connection between his and your lips managed to silence you, and the close proximity let you feel the waves of heat radiating from his face. And he continued to kiss you, gently, for as long as you let him until you decided to shove him away.

"Don’t." You whispered faintly, albeit firmly. Leaving his side to get into the passenger seat of his car, you buckled yourself up and turned to the window.

He breathed out a sigh, but joined you in the driver’s seat. Facing you with remorse so deep, it made his eyes droop. "You know I love you, right?"

You were still crying, and you never spared him so little as a single glance.

He royally screwed up, for sure. 

The engine purred to life. Now, to find a place to stay for the night. Hopefully, he could make up with you before lights out. But his gut told him it wouldn’t be so simple. The car began to move, crushing sticks and leaves under the wheels as he drove on a dirt path deep in the woods. He picked this cabin for the ominous ambiance, but he was beginning to regret his choices. The same could be said for everything he did tonight, hell, the same could be said for how he acted all these months.

He was the jealous, insecure, shitty boyfriend.

And the whole time, he never realized how kind you were to put up with him.

He wanted to tell you he trusted you. To pull you into his arms and apologize a million times. But what could he say to convince you when he’d come off as a liar? Even he didn’t know if he could be honest. Why did Mathias’s presence get him to feel like this, anyway? He boiled it down to how similar he was to him. Like you always said, he and Mathias were two of the same person. Loud, fun, and obnoxious sweethearts. So of course he started comparing himself to him.

And he was doing it right now. He couldn’t imagine Mathias ever having these kinds of problems if he dated you. Fuck. Aside from self-loathing and bitter regret, he was beginning to feel the beginnings of ugly jealousy all over again.

Are you serious right now, Alfred? He thought. 

Narrowing his eyes on the road that seemed to disappear, he slowed to a stop. Was it just him losing concentration over these thoughts, or did he really lose his way? Perhaps. But at least he found something. He peered around his windshield to see a few rooftops resembling an old, vintage villa in the distance. Could that possibly be a motel?

He sped up and drove closer and closer until he reached a clearing. Climbing out of his car with you trailing close behind, he made his way to the entrance of the establishment. There was an open lawn in front of the building, and in one of the gardens stood a wooden sign with "The Aura Inn" inscribed into it. Neither of you thought much of it, let alone read the little sub-paragraph of text below it.

"Let’s go." Looking at you over his shoulder, he held out a hand for you to take. You just brushed past him and kept walking. Right. He forgot for a second that you were mad at him.

The only thing that concerned you was having somewhere to stay the night, so the reception was the first stop. Making up with him could come later.

Upon arriving, you were greeted by nothing but an empty room. There was no furniture besides a wooden counter, and even then, it was lacking quite a few amenities. There was no receptionist here either, and yet, the lights were on. That could only mean one thing. Somebody was here, just not in a way you liked. But you were just overthinking, weren’t you? Needless to say, this inn was starting to feel a little off to you.

Gripping the scales of your mermaid dress, you turned to Alfred with a nervous glance. Immediately, he responded with a reassuring smile.

"You okay, babe?"

Hold on. Did he just call you babe? Your mood went sour when you felt yourself nearly give in to him. What he did couldn’t be forgiven so easily, otherwise, how could he take your feelings seriously? So you forced yourself to lie.

"Yes." You murmured. "I’m perfectly fine."

He knew you were lying, but he couldn’t blame you.

"Okay. I’ll just... Get us a room. I think this is an Airbnb." He pulled out his phone.

The thought of sleeping in the same bed as him irked you, to say the least. After the stunt he pulled today, which effectively stopped you from going to Mathias’s after-party, you needed some space. That was right. How come after all these years, you’ve never been to one of his infamous after-parties? Even though you were a close friend of his? It was simple. Because Alfred never let you go. God, thinking about it just made you relive the anger all over again. 

So before he finished the booking, you reached out for his arm.

"Wait. I don’t want to be in the same room as you."

He paused, and you saw sadness flash in his eyes. And once again, you found yourself tempted to cave. But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

"... Oh. Sure." Alfred finished with the online forms and walked you to your room. The halls were long, winding, and dimly-lit. You would’ve thanked him for accompanying you in this unsettling place, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. Once you managed to open the door, which wasn’t locked, he gave you a reluctant goodbye. Resting his arms against the doorframe, he gazed down at you with a bittersweet smile. "Night, babe. I’ll see you in the morning—"

The door slammed in his face and he cringed.

"... Love you too." He murmured, clenching his fists against the door. This was by far the worst argument he’s ever had with you, and it was all his fault.

Pressing your back against the door, you felt blood rush up to your face after hearing what he said. He nearly had you. But you managed to seal yourself away in the safety of your room. It hurt to push him away, but you had to. He couldn’t keep having his way. Alfred needed to accept the consequences of his actions, and you needed to be strong enough for that to happen. 

And plus, he needed to get used to not having you around him all the time. But the boy was excessively clingy, and you let this carry on for far too long. 

Unpacking your things on the bed, you got your things ready for a shower. As you melted into the hot embrace of the water, your concerns of this inn melted away too. It was just Halloween jitters, wasn’t it? Turning off the faucet, you dried yourself off with a towel before getting dressed. When you exited the bathroom, your room was plunged into almost pitch-black darkness. But you never turned off the lights.

Perhaps this was an energy-saving function. 

Well, it saved you from the effort of going to the light switch, anyhow. 

Before you moved from your spot, you shuddered at the feeling of a cold draft blowing against your body. Looking over to the source, you were shocked to see that the door was wide open, letting the dim halls stare back at you. 

There was probably a little wind tonight, and somehow, you didn’t shut the door properly. Making your way to close it again, you made sure you heard a little click. When you did, you didn’t feel any wind from outside at all, not even a gentle breeze. 

Weird. 

Setting your things down on the bedside table, you climbed into bed and tucked yourself in. While you made yourself comfortable, you faced the entirety of the room, which had a small wall-mounted TV, rocking chair, and desk. Of course there was a rocking chair. And you somehow couldn’t tear your gaze away from its faint outline in the dark. 

Then, it began to rock. 

Forwards and backward as if an invisible entity was sitting in it. 

“!” Your blood ran cold and you buried your head underneath the blanket. Something was in the room with you. Unlike before, you couldn’t blame it on the wind because you just closed the door. As you came to terms with that reality, the icy hands of fear gripped around your heart. Your breathing grew ragged and uneven. There was something behind you. Someone behind you. 

You could practically feel their presence creeping towards you. Closer and closer to your bed as the carpet compressed under its footsteps. Your chest constricted when you felt the bed dip under a weight. 

Then, it began to crawl. 

But you were too terrified to scream, let alone move. 

In that moment, you never regretted your decisions this much in your life. And you never wished more for Alfred to be with you.  

Unbeknownst to him as he finished up with his own shower in his room, you were left paralyzed in bed. If he’d known what was happening, he would have run to you as fast as he could. But he didn’t. He only assumed you were busy brooding over him, and maybe even second-guessing your relationship with him. The thought was reasonable, and that upset him to no end. Throwing his towel to a random spot in the room, he fell on his back onto the bed. 

Reaching out to the ceiling to stare at his arm, he sighed. 

“I’m so sorry...” He murmured, lowering his hands to cover his face with them.

If he was lucky, he’d be able to make up with you by the end of tomorrow. But for now, he was burdened with uncertainty. But his attention was quickly diverted to something else. A laugh. Your laugh. Sitting up with visible confusion, he listened in to the muffled sounds of your voice down the hall. 

The walls here were thin, so it didn’t surprise him he could hear you so clearly. 

But what did was what he heard next. Another voice talking, and it belonged to a boy. His heart sank to the pit of his stomach as he registered it as someone he knew. Mathias. Wait a second, what the hell was he doing here? But there was no way he could be, right? Didn’t he have an after-party to be at? The longer he eavesdropped on the conversation, the more obvious it became that it was Mathias. And they were talking about him. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come this year. Again. But you know how Alfred gets.”

“Yeah... Don’t worry about it. This can be our own little after-party. Just as long as he doesn’t find out, you’ll be fine!” 

Wait, what? 

From what he heard, it sounded like you really had moved on. But you never had the decency to tell him, and that was what filled him to the brim with betrayal--it broke his heart. Was this why you wanted to be in a separate room tonight? Sliding himself off the bed, he stormed out the door to find you. His glasses were already fogging up, but he never bothered to clear them as he marched down the empty halls. 

Your voices grew louder and louder, all until he came to a stop outside a room he never booked. That was right. He applied for one with a single bed. He could only imagine what you were doing with Mathias in a room with a double bed. 

The laughing continued behind the door. 

“You know these walls are thin, right?” He began lowly. Swinging open the door, the noises disappeared along with the people inside. The room was completely dark, and when he flicked on the lights, you and Mathias were nowhere in sight. Not a soul was in here. 

“... What the fuck.” He grumbled.

He swore he heard you both giggling away like school children. Did you two hear him coming and hide somewhere? He was skeptical, but he checked around nonetheless. In the wardrobe, then under the bed. There was no sign of either of you. The shower, maybe? Stepping into the bathroom and pulling open the curtains, he was prepared to catch you red-handed. But there was nothing there except for a porcelain white tub.  A defeated sigh fell from his lips. What the hell was going on? Alfred was completely sober, a miracle considering he usually drank at his parties. So he had a terrible feeling he wasn’t just hearing things. That only pointed towards one explanation. 

This inn was totally haunted. 

And whoever, or whatever that haunted it was toying with him.

He swallowed thickly and turned to the mirror, only to jump at what he saw. The reflection revealed a figure standing behind him. 

It was Mathias, except his face was twisted in a sick smile. 

“Holy shit--!” Alfred paled as he stared face to face with the entity. As he lost himself in its soulless, blue eyes, he was overcome with dread, almost as if the spirit was forcing fear into him. Reminding him of his failures, insecurities, and the uncertainty of his relationship. All of his faults flashed in his mind again and again so incessantly, he thought he would break down on the spot. 

Where is (F/N)? 

She doesn’t want you anymore. 

You should just give up. 

And the deeper in he spiraled into these self-destructive thoughts, the wider the entity smiled, its lips stretching to impossible lengths it became grotesque. Darting his wide eyes around the reflection in his bout of panic, he saw its hand reach out to his shoulder in the mirror. He didn’t know how he managed to do this, but he spun around quickly to defend himself. And there was nobody there.

In his brief moment of disorientation, the spirit shot out two arms, breaking the barrier of the glass. Tightening its hands around his neck, Alfred was pulled back against the mirror and choked. “Gh--!” His airway was completely constricted by the iron grip, and he was forced to struggle a few inches above the ground. 

Digging his fingernails into the hands, he never felt them loosen. 

So he did the unthinkable--he started to smash his fist against the mirror. It hurt like hell and left his knuckles bruised and raw, but the thought of you in danger kept him going. That was right. There was no saying if you weren’t being choked, attacked, or worst. Punching the glass again and again, it finally shattered, and the grip around his neck loosened. 

The mirror was reduced to shards and fell into the sink.

Falling to the ground in a loud thump, he stood up while coughing violently. 

The arms disappeared, and so did the entity. 

And Alfred had a feeling it had to do with the mirror it was in. 

Leaving the bathroom with heavy breaths, he ran back to his room and picked up his chainsaw. Halloween had the perks of carrying around dangerous tools, and he was never this glad that he took it with him instead of leaving it in his car unattended. Too bad he was out of costume, though. But a white tank and boxers would do. Holding it above his chest, he revved his chainsaw and ran out the door. 

It was time to fuck shit up. 

You were still stuck in bed, but the spirit managed to remove your blanket. A soft whimper fell from your lips as your only form of protection was stripped away. If you thought you were terrified, then you would prove yourself wrong with a whole new level of fear as two arms wrapped around your neck from behind. No way. Was it going to choke you? One of its legs was thrown over yours, so you were completely enveloped by its limbs. 

As you trembled away in the dark, you let out a soft cry when you felt its warm breath tickle your ear. 

“I missed you. Why didn’t you wanna stay in a room with me?” It cooed, the voice sending shivers down your spine. It sounded strangely similar to Alfred’s, and what he said was exactly what he would’ve said too, except it wasn’t him. You never saw him come in, and the last time you checked, he wasn’t invisible. 

“... W-What... What are you?” You stammered, feeling a hand glide down your bare thigh. “Stop--” 

“I’m his desire, sweetheart.” It began in a low and alluring voice. “Every feeling in the Aura inn festers into a semi-physical form. That’s why I’m here right now. Because he wants you.” 

You screwed your eyes shut. Just what the hell kind of place was this inn? A magical hut that personified emotions? “... Can you please let me go? I don’t like the way how you’re... Hugging me.” You pleaded, only to feel the entity tighten itself around you. 

“But I don’t want to. He doesn’t want to.” It responded with a hum. “I reflect everything he wants. And currently, he wants to see you more than anything. Especially when he’s dealing with jealousy... And having a hard time at that.” 

“Jealousy?” It wasn’t shocking, per se, but he had you curious. If desire festered into a sultry form of someone and hugged their object of affections, what did jealousy turn into?  “... I knew he was jealous of Mathias. But that’s not the problem here. We’ll sort it out later. If you’re desire, then what’s jealousy like?” 

It let out a deep, foreboding laugh. “Depends. If it’s only a little bit of envy, he’ll start hearing things that hit his nerves. Nothing but... Harmless fun.” You felt yourself get rolled onto your back, and you were caught off guard by what loomed over you. It was Alfred himself, or more accurately put, his personified desire, but this time, you could see him. “But if his jealousy gets mixed in with insecurity, that’s when things get pretty ugly...” 

You furrowed your brows with concern. “Ugly? How so? Is he gonna be okay?” 

It craned his head from side to side. “Who knows.” 

“But I’ll tell you a few things that I do know. Jealousy tends to be pretty sneaky. It’ll snoop around in mirrors and attack him.” You tensed up all over. “So Alfred will have to smash every mirror in the inn to get it to come out. And when it does, all he needs to do is be with you to send it away.”

Loud chainsaw noises were heard down the halls, silencing both you and the entity. Following that was the shattering of glass. 

“... Hm. Looks like he already figured it out.” 

Joy filled you to the brim and you smiled wide. “He really did! I’m so glad!” Reaching out to hug the entity around its chest, you pulled away and slid yourself off the bed. 

“Thank you, um, Alfred’s desire! I’m gonna go find him now!” 

He laid on his side and watched you run off. “You can just call me Alfred.” 

“Okay, Alfred!” 

While you exited the room to stand in the halls, you found yourself staring at a number of doors that were wide open, and the lights on inside. You assumed those were the rooms he already cleared, which meant he still had quite a bit to do. But he was fast. Appearing out of one room, he continued tearing down door after door to smash every single mirror and window in the inn. And soon, he managed to reduce every piece of glass present into shards. 

Once the chainsaw revs came to a stop, you called out his name. 

“Alfred!” 

He jerked up at the sound, then glanced around. “(F/N)!?” While he was on the first floor in the courtyard, you were on the second in the mezzanine, so he had to glance up to see you. “Oh God, I was so worried! Are you okay?” He shouted. 

“Yes!” You called back. “This place is... Super haunted. Let’s get out of here!”

“You called it. I nearly got murdered!” 

Running down the stairs to meet with him, you practically jumped onto him after he dropped his chainsaw to the ground. Embracing you with his strong arms, he pressed kiss after kiss all over your face. While he did, you spotted another figure standing by the stairs. Was that Mathias? You couldn’t take a better look at him before he disappeared into thin air. “Oh my fucking god. I missed you so much.” He exasperated, setting you down on your feet. “You won’t believe what happened. I’ll explain everything in the car.”

As he led you out of the Godforsaken inn, he gripped you tight with his hand. And you squeezed right back. “Let me guess. You were attacked by something in the mirror so you shattered every single one here. I know.” 

At this point, you and him had arrived outside his car.

Turning to you with shock, he placed his hands on his hips. 

“And how the hell did you know? I thought it was original enough that you wouldn’t be able to guess!” He exclaimed, much to your amusement. 

“Mm... Not really. With how many horror movies you’ve watched, I wouldn’t put it past you to come up with a solution like that.” Giving him an affectionate pinch on the cheek, he rubbed the spot with a light pout. You considered telling him the truth, but you already wanted to forget tonight. If he didn’t know about it, then moving on yourself would be so much easier. 

“Now, I think you have some apologizing to do.” 

He softened his gaze. “Yeah... I really do. Sorry for everything. Sorry for being a dick. And not just... For today.” Pulling you into another hug, he nestled his chin into your shoulder. God, did it feel good to have you in his arms again. “I’m gonna be real. I never hated Mathias. He’s my friend. But seeing him with you gets me... Really jealous. And it’s not cuz’ I don’t trust you, it’s because I’m...” His cheeks grew rosy. “I don’t know. I just feel...”

You knew he’d get stuck at this part, so you helped him. 

“Because you feel insecure?” 

“... Yeah.” 

“You idiot...” A soft, content sigh was heard from your end. “It doesn’t matter how similar you are to him. You don’t have to try to make any changes or keep him away from me for me to choose you.” 

His heart fluttered as he released you with a sheepish smile. 

“I really needed to hear that. So, thanks.” Alfred murmured, reaching out to cup your cheek. “Kinda lame of me to put you through that. I should’ve just talked it out with you.” 

“Yeah, you dumbass.” You grumbled, but it was on an affectionate note. 

“So, do you think we’ll make it in time to the party for me to carpool with Mathias back to his place? I wanna see what they’re building this year!”

He frowned, but his expression was short-lived as a smile began creeping onto his lips. “Are you serious right now?” 

“I’m kidding!” 

🎶 Tell me, are you the ghost of jealousy?

This is a request. Thank you for requesting.

[lovelyirony]

@rhodee for you

When Tony had gotten back from Siberia, he hadn’t been able to see anyone for a long time. 

But people had been to see him. 

He wasn’t expecting Rhodey to come and see him for a variety of medically-related reasons, but he was hoping for an email or a phone call, at least a message about Tony being a “dumbass.” 

And then he asked Pepper how Rhodey was doing, and she tenses up. 

Pepper has never been a good liar to Tony, not since they got drunk together for the first time and she told him every single tell she had for lying. They could never hide from each other after that. 

“He’s...knocked out, still.” 

Tony raises his eyebrows. 

“So, he’s not knocked out, something happened to him.” 

“Tony, he...he doesn’t remember.” 

“What, the fall? I wish I couldn’t remember that either, but I’m betting that that’s not what you’re talking about.” 

“He doesn’t remember any of us. He doesn’t remember anything except for his freshman year of college. All of this information is...overwhelming for him.” 

Tony freezes. 

He and Rhodey didn’t live together freshman year. Hell, they didn’t even know each other freshman year. They became sort-of-friends near the beginning of sophomore year, and that meant... 

Oh god.

Rhodey wouldn’t remember three important things: 

1.) He’s bisexual.

2.) He’s an accomplished man who has achieved much in his lifetime and has grown comfortable with himself with years of help.

3.) He married Tony. They’re married. 

For a long time, Rhodey didn’t really want to admit that he liked guys. It wasn’t something he ever talked about, nothing he ever wanted to discuss. He didn’t mind that Tony had an attraction to men, but he always seemed to put himself at a distance when Tony brought someone over for dinner or a study session. 

Rhodey didn’t want to come to terms with it at first. He was very adamant that he would marry a nice girl and settle down, and Tony hadn’t contested it, hadn’t challenged him on it. That could have very well been the situation. 

It wasn’t until the end of sophomore year--into the summer, actually--that Rhodey even wanted to tempt to talk about what attraction would even mean for him. 

They had gotten together senior year, and Tony has a picture framed in their bedroom of Tony dipping Rhodey into a kiss (and dropping him after the picture was taken) after graduation. 

“They had to take off his wedding ring for the surgery, but I wasn’t sure what to tell him. The doctors said to avoid bringing up any information that would surprise them, and I remember that you talked about it once...” 

“Yeah,” Tony says thickly, his chest hurting from more than just a frisbee-toss gone wrong. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s, uh...let’s just transfer him over to the headquarters. I’ll just...I’ll figure something out.” 

He can’t tell Rhodey he has a husband. He can’t. The reaction alone would be terrible, if he’s knowing what he knows. 

-

So he doesn’t. 

Tony welcomes Rhodey into the compound after taking down every single romantic photo, briefing everyone who still lived there that Rhodey had lost his memory, and praying to whoever would listen that Rhodey didn’t find out until he was comfortable with it. 

“I don’t go by Rhodey,” was the first thing off of his lips. Not a hello, not a smile. “I go by Jim.” 

“Right,” Tony says, smiling in that flashy way that Rhodey usually told him to stop, because it creeped him out because he knew what that smile was actually all about. “Jim. Nice to see you back.” 

“I wish I could say the same, but I’m not exactly sure I remember you. Your face looks really familiar, though.” 

“Well, that’s what nearly twenty-five years of knowledge can do to somebody,” Tony says quickly. “Let me show you to your room. Sorry about the lack of decorations, we didn’t really want to overwhelm you with anything.” 

“I’m fine,” Rhodey says, clearly annoyed. “It’s just weird knowing that I’m way fucking older and apparently I graduated college and managed to make something of myself and I can’t remember any of it.” 

“I can’t say I understand, but I can say that it sucks,” Tony says. “But, lucky for you, I kept some of your stuff.” 

“A friend kept my stuff?” Rhodey asks. “Why?” 

“Because I’m annoying and you pretend like you hate me, when I am the best thing that happened to you,” Tony says, smiling. 

He then turns when he can see Rhodey’s--Jim’s--expression turn sour. 

“Ah, anyway,” Tony says hurriedly. “You just...keep stuff sometimes.” 

(He’s not going to mention that it’s because they shared an apartment. Or a house. Or a room. Or, on occasion, a bank account.) 

“Dinner is gonna be at seven, feel free to come down,” Tony says, smile wearing thin. 

- 

Jim doesn’t come down. 

Or he did, but he came down early. 

Because he doesn’t want anything to do with Tony. 

“It’ll just take time,” Pepper tells Tony over the phone. “Give him some space.” 

So Tony does. 

But it’s hard giving your amnesiac husband space when you’ve never done it before, not really. 

Tony has always been around Rhodey, always been invading and crawling into his space, and Rhodey really only complained when Tony’s hands would sneak around his chest when the nights were dark and cold. 

Now they’re at a distance, and Tony doesn’t know how to bring up any facts about their life. 

So far, all Jim’s been doing is catching up on history. 

“We fought Captain America?” he asks, gaping at the article about finding Captain Rogers in an iceberg. “Why?” 

“He likes putting his foot in his mouth a lot.” Tony says. “And both sides have been notoriously bad at keeping their cool.” 

“Oh. So we just...I  fought him? Because I’m just friends with you?” 

“Yeah,” Tony says, quite uncomfortable with the insertion of the word “just” in that sentence. 

“...weird.” 

“The future’s crazy, honey-bear.” 

Jim looks up. 

“Why do you call me that?” 

“Call you what?” 

“Honey-bear. It’s weird.” 

“Inside joke we have,” Tony says, chest tightening. “We thought those couples that have the lovey-dovey nicknames were ridiculous.” 

“Oh. Gross.” 

“Yeah, it is,” Tony says. “But kinda funny. One time you called me ‘sugar-tits’.” 

Jim laughs at that one. 

“Oh god, that’s...rough. What else did I call you?” 

Baby. Honey. Love of my life. Darling. 

“Uh...” Tony says, pretending to think. “I think love-muffin was also an option.” 

Jim throws back his head and laughs. 

“How did we...how did we become friends?” 

“Well, it all started with a dining hall and you trying to steal an entire painting without getting caught, and my valiant rescue...” 

“Why do I get the feeling that that’s not true?” 

“Because it isn’t,” Tony grins. “Just making sure your bullshit-detector is working again. It is. We met because we weren’t supposed to be roommates but they fucked up and the rooms filled up, so you dealt with me as best you could.” 

“Oh,” Jim says. “What do we do for fun?”

Go on date nights. Talk about how stupid we were as kids. Debate who asked out who. Cook together. 

“Uh, we used to...shoot hoops.” 

“You don’t seem like a basketball kinda guy,” Jim says. 

“Oh believe me, I wasn’t,” Tony responds with a laugh, “but you were, and you always liked kicking my ass on the court.” 

“Good to know that I can still probably do that,” Jim says, smug and self-satisfied. “Hey, where did Pepper go?” 

“Oh, she’s busy with a contract this week, what do you need?” 

Jim puts his hand on the back of his neck in that nervous habit he always got (that Tony only knew about because every single time he would walk into the room after he realized he liked him in that way, Rhodey would do that). 

“Um, just want to ask her something. About my life.” 

And Tony can’t breathe. 

He doesn’t know and that’s...that’s everything. 

“She’ll be back for dinner,” Tony says. “In the mean time, I’ll be in the lab working on some stuff, feel free to do whatever.” 

“Thanks, man.” 

- 

Pepper stares at Jim, who for so long has been one of her best friends and is now asking if he had anyone who he was involved with romantically. 

“You...what?” 

“Did I have a girlfriend or anything?” Jim asks. “Because, um, it’s going to kind of suck if I didn’t.” 

“You had a girlfriend sophomore year,” she answers carefully. “That lasted for about three months or something. You’d have to ask Tony more about it, he knows more about you than I do.” 

“And you said we’re...friends? We didn’t date?”

“Yeah, we are friends, no we didn’t date,” Pepper says. “We get lunch on Thursdays if you’re in town.” 

“I’m in the army, right?” 

“About to retire, too,” Pepper says with a grin. “You were really happy, you were planning on taking Tony on a trip.” 

“I was?” Jim asks, frowning. “We’re...that close?” 

“Well yeah, you’re-” Pepper pauses for a moment. “You’re best friends. You always like spending time with Tony.” 

“Oh,” Jim says. “Okay.” 

He knows that they’re lying to him. He gets why: if he learns too much, it could cause some sort of damage. And according to Friday, “Colonel Platypus” (whatever the fuck that means) keeps his personal life intensely private. 

He doesn’t know why he’s done that. Why he’s kept everything so private. It’s not because of his military status, he thinks. Unless, of course, they put him on all sorts of secret projects. That could definitely be a thing. 

Tony keeps almost calling him Rhodey. It’s a weird nickname. He doesn’t know why he apparently loves it. It sounds...stupid. Weird. Jim works just fine. 

Pepper also said they were just friends. And she sounds like she means it. And Tony says they’re just friends, but he doesn’t sound like he means it. 

But that doesn’t mean...? 

No. Of course not. There would be pictures and rings and all of that sappy, gross shit that comes with weddings. 

...would there be? 

“Hey Friday?” he asks. 

“Yes, Colonel Rhodes?” 

“Um. Is gay marriage legal?” 

“Yes, Colonel Rhodes, it is. Would you like further articles about the decision?” 

“Uh...sure. I guess.” 

He keeps reading articles (with reading glasses) and learns a lot about what’s been going on. 

He’s just interested, obviously. In current events. 

- 

It’s a week later when he asks Tony about it. 

“So...did you remember the whole legalization of gay marriage thing?” he asks Tony, who pauses at his coffee. “I, um. Read an article where they said you were bi, so I wasn’t sure if you-” 

“No, I am,” Tony says. “I remember it really well. I celebrated well that day.” 

he grinned as he looked at Rhodey, and swore to rent out the entire metropolitan museum of art, just for him. he would do anything for him, anything at all-

Jim looks at him. 

“What did you do to celebrate?” 

“Well, there were quite a lot of people at gay bars. We danced. I drank a glass of champagne. And then we danced again.” 

“Someone was with me?” 

“You were,” Tony says. “You were here when it happened, and it was...it was a good day for us.” 

“I’m not gay though,” Jim says with a frown. 

“Doesn’t mean that you can’t celebrate,” Tony says, eyes holding something in them that makes him look like he might cry. “Some people’s triumph can be a momentous occasion.” 

It can the occasion where your marriage is finally recognized everywhere. It’s where you get the iconic photo of mashing cake in your partner’s face, and all of the guests are grinning and you’re happy, and--

Tony shakes himself out of that train of thought. 

“Yeah, I guess,” Jim says. “Just...please tell me that you didn’t get any embarrassing pictures.” 

“Oh I did,” Tony replies, grinning maniacally. “Would you like to see yourself in a feather boa or a flamingo floatie?” 

“Oh my god,” Jim moans, throwing his hands to the dinner table. “No...” 

“You looked a dream, gorgeous,” Tony teases. “And I have the pictures to prove it. I’ll get them out another time, I promised Dum-E that I’d help him pick up his mess.” 

“Who is he?” 

Tony grins. 

“He’s our baby, metaphorically speaking. We built him on a half-drunk, half-dare kind of situation,” Tony says. “He’s a disaster.” 

Jim thinks about it for a moment. “Can I...can I meet him?” 

-

Dum-E hasn’t seen his dad in forever. He’s wheeling around Rhodey, beeping and nearly running over his feet. 

“Great, your return has pushed back any build-up coordination training we did,” Tony scolds, although his tone doesn’t sound serious at all. “Dum-E, your father and I agreed to help clean, although methinks that Jim will be a great surveyor for us.” 

“What’d you spill?” Jim asks. 

“Couple of glass stuff,” Tony says. “He’s been really into stained glass recently, I think he was trying to make his own.” 

“He can think?” 

“Yeah,” Tony says. “His coding, by the way, was like sixty percent you. That’s why he’s so damned stubborn and also why he puts motor oil into smoothies, genius.” 

“Hey, that most definitely was you,” Jim says. “You didn’t grocery shop that day, so I was weak and malnourished.” 

Tony stills. 

“You...remember that?” 

Jim pauses for a moment. 

“You...you were supposed to go grocery shopping and I made a list,” he says, smiling fondly. “And you didn’t take the list because you said you had an eidetic memory, but you still forgot the lemons, so I don’t believe you.” 

Tony throws back his head and laughs. 

“Glad to have a memory for you, Rho-Jim. You want a glass of water or anything?” 

“Water sounds fine.” 

Jim watches as Tony works around Dum-E, obviously used to his quirks and mannerisms as he banters and threatens with nothing backing up that threat. 

He smiles as he wheels himself over, grabbing a dust pan on his way over. 

“Figured we’ll need this,” he offers. Tony accepts it with a smile. 

“Thanks Jim.” 

“You can-you can call me Rhodey. If you want.” 

Tony looks at him for a moment. 

“But is that what you want?” 

Jim pauses. 

“Yes. For now.” 

“Okay,” Tony says, smiling. He’s not showing how fucking happy he is, how ready he is to leap for the moon and bring stardust down on his way home. “Thank you.” 

Jim nods. 

“I think I’m gonna turn in for the night.” 

“Have a goodnight, Jim. Let me know if you need anything.” 

-

He lies awake in bed that night. 

“Hey, Friday?” 

“Yes, Boss?” 

“I...I’m not being told everything, am I?” 

“Information can potentially be triggering to the current state you are in, Colonel Rhodes.” 

“Are you being paid to say that?” 

“I don’t get paid,” Friday says. “Although if I did, I would not want to take the money.” 

“So I am missing something,” Rhodey says. “I just...I don’t know what.” 

“It will come with time, Colonel Rhodes.” 

“And if it doesn’t? If I have to relive life all over again?” He asks, growing agitated. “If my memory doesn’t come back, Friday...I’m not sure they’ll ever tell me anything.” 

“It is already a good sign that you remembered Dum-E. He was missing you quite terribly.” 

“Can I...can you show me a picture of me with him?” 

“Sure thing, Boss.” 

- 

Rhodey has a sharp intake of breath. 

Right there. 

Right on his left hand. 

A wedding ring. 

And then he looks at Tony, Tony who is looking fondly as Rhodey and Dum-E are reenacting some stupid thing, and there’s a-

A ring. 

On the left hand. 

That wasn’t there before. 

Shit. 

[doctors-star]

lister/rimmer for “Oh no, I feel bad- SYKE, no I don’t.” pretty please

“You’re being weirdly helpful today. What do you want?”

Rimmer opens his eyes parodically wide, fingers splayed against his sternum in an elaborate moi? gesture. It is an appearance of surprise and hurt so manufactured that Lister almost wants to applaud the performance, bow at their audience of stars, and abandon the bastard to his machinations. But unfortunately, Lister has been granted prophetic visions of the future and knows with deep and terrible certainty that, were he to do so, he would spend two minutes wandering the empty decks, trip over Kryten’s best mop, slide on one of Cat’s abandoned silk cravats, and go and find Rimmer to bitch about it and hope that he’s doing something more interesting. So, given that interstellar travel is remarkably exhausting, it’s far better to cut out the middleman and instead lie here on the sofa and watch Rimmer direct scutters to haphazardly clean the living quarters inch by mind-numbing inch. They’ve even got little white glove-fingers on their claws, so that Rimmer can demand that they swipe something to test for cleanliness and then bawl them out for miniscule specks no-one else can see. Once, Rimmer had conjured up a white glove for himself and gone round doing the same thing, but when Lister had pointed out that he couldn’t pick up dust and therefore was imagining things, Rimmer had only doubled down harder - so hard that he’d worked himself into a real tizzy about going video-blind, or being permanently stuck with dust on his finger for all eternity, or dying, again, and had needed to go and have a lie down in the dark for a bit. So this is - debatably - an improvement.

Normally, Lister wouldn’t give a toss about Rimmer bossing the scutters about on yet another mad powertrip, but he’s going too far. He’s thrown out all Lister’s mouldering dishes, professing concern for Lister’s health but probably just trying to irritate him, and he’s cleared out the space in the corner of the bunkroom that Lister had hesitantly earmarked for the crib - and in doing so, had thrown out Lister’s third-worst t-shirt, the one with the curry stain vaguely resembling Maggie Thatcher, and which he likes to keep around in order to spit at it every now and then. The final straw, however, had been when Rimmer had nasally informed him that he was getting in the way of the scutters’ gruelling floor-cleaning regime, and that he had better go and put his feet up instead - to keep out of their way, of course.

“When have I ever tried to manipulate you to get what I want?” Rimmer says with a voice which he probably thinks is sweet and just makes him sound like a particularly jammy and unpleasant used-car salesman trying to get off with the seventeen-year-old girls coming in for their first Fiat 500.

Lister narrows his eyes. “Do you want that alphabetised or chronological?”

Rimmer blinks at him balefully, still very much putting it on. “Can’t I just do something nice without an ulterior motive?”

He considers this. “A person could, even if they never have before. You, though, I genuinely think the shock of it would kill you.” Lister spreads his hands invitingly, obligingly lifting one foot out of the way of a scutter before letting it once more dangle over the side of the sofa. “So, out with it.”

Rimmer shifts nervously from one foot to the other, inventing something at speed as though he never expected Lister to call him out on this - in which case, he’s a moron. More so than usual. “I don’t want the twins sleeping in our room,” he blurts out all in one rushed go, and Lister raises an eyebrow. “They’ll - they’ll cry, and keep me up, and I’m not giving up my Learn Esperanto discs for rodent-sized versions of you.”

Lister makes a game show-style incorrect noise and blows a raspberry, just to watch the left side of Rimmer’s face twitch in irritation. “Nope, not happening. They’ll cry so’s I know they need me, so I gotta be here to hear ‘em. Anyway, I wouldn’t make you give up your Esperanto discs - they’ll be better at it than you in a few months.”

Rimmer makes a sucked-lemon face at him. “Your spawn is not piggybacking my learning, the little parasites,” he says sternly.

Lister cups a hand around his ear exaggeratedly. “What was that, little-Listers? Ni estas tre lertaj? Yes,” he says to his still flat stomach in a very gooey voice that makes Rimmer clench and unclench his fists like a prize fighter, “you are very clever!”

Rimmer wrenches one hand up and points at him viciously, the other fingers curled in so tightly that his knuckles go white. “I forbid it.”

Lister sticks his tongue out. “Move out. Anyway, that’s not the reason - you cleared the space for their beds yourself. So, what is it?”

Rimmer narrows his eyes. The scutters start inching towards the door and effecting their escape. “I want to pick the film tonight, and it won’t be Fast and 14ious again,” he says carefully, feeling his way into the lie.

Lister pulls a sympathetic face and makes his game show noise again. “Oh, too bad,” he says, “you know well it’s Cat’s shout tonight so helping me won’t do anything. Anyway, 14ious is the best one.”

“It’s scratched to hell,” Rimmer points out. “We have to make up our own dialogue for the entire second act - last time, Kryten had the central car chase pivot around a shipment of mopheads and got disturbingly into the sex scene immediately following.”

Lister winces briefly at the recollection, but shrugs. “Exactly, it’s the best one. Right, contestant, last chance, remembering that you still have your lifelines: ask the audience, fifty-fifty, phone a friend-”

Predictably, Rimmer frowns. “Phone a friend?”

Internally, Lister pumps his fist. “Sorry contestant, that’s wrong too - you don’t have any friends.” Rimmer offers him a truly poisonous look and Lister nearly falls off the sofa snorting with laughter.

Rimmer folds his arms. “Well, if you know so much,” he sneers. “Work it out for yourself.”

“Nah, ‘cause you’ll just say yes to anything in the hope I’ll shut my gob,” Lister says without taking offence, and Rimmer looks vaguely exhausted. “Come on,” he wheedles, “tell me what’s eating you.”

“Nothing!” Rimmer snaps, unfolding his arms in a jerky motion and stalking off to fold himself into his bunk so that Lister has to awkwardly lean his head over the back of the sofa to see him. “Maybe I just want to live somewhere with basic standards of cleanliness.”

“Yeah,” Lister allows, watching Rimmer rub at the webbing between thumb and forefinger obsessively, as though seeking comfort. “But usually you yell at me until I do it. This,” he says, gesturing at the hard work of the scutters, “could be interpreted as nice, Rimmer, so you’d better do something selfish before the Playboy cover designers get in touch and make you every Miss July for the next century, or something else equally unlikely happens.”

“You’re an unbearable goit with all the standards and appeal of a mangy, leg-humping jack russell.”

“That’s the spirit. Now, explain yourself, you uptight lunatic.”

Rimmer makes a face at his own knees, then looks up, sees Lister watching him, and makes an even unhappier face. “Well,” he says, and then Lister has to wait and listen to nothing but the noise of deep space and Red Dwarf slowly falling apart around them for a good minute. “We ought to be ready for the babies, when they arrive,” he says suddenly, addressing the starched creases in his trousers.

“Which will be in about seven months,” Lister prompts gently, turning around to lean his chest against the back of the sofa and watch Rimmer better. He rubs the back of his neck carefully, tugging at the baby hair under his dreads. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be prepared, but - seven months is a long time, in the depths of space with sod all else to occupy them. Rimmer seems oddly hung up on it. The thought occurs to him like a lead weight in his stomach. “Look, man, I know we never asked for ‘em, but they are coming, so even if you don’t want them around you’ve-”

“No!” Rimmer says sharply, and when he meets Lister’s eyes he knows Rimmer is entirely serious, even though he still doesn’t understand literally anything else about the situation. “It’s not-” he waves a hand at Lister dismissively. Then he fixes his gaze on his hands, and addresses his remarks to those. “Pregnant people are supposed to rest,” he says sternly, “and be undisturbed by - by mess, and noise, and small children.”

Lister feels a frown settle on his brows, and a worry settle in his gut. Rimmer swallows hard, adam’s apple moving like a yo-yo. “Why’s that?” he murmurs gently, as if - if he could only be quiet enough - the question wouldn’t spook Rimmer out of his honesty.

Rimmer shrugs one shoulder. “Stops the baby growing up strong,” he recites oddly. “Mummy said she’d spent so much time running after my brothers that she was worn out with me, and that’s why I was slow.” He sniffs. He looks horribly lonely, and a hundred thousand miles away, and it’s like there’s a fist around Lister’s heart slowly constricting. “And that she might as well keep focussing on them, since I was never going to catch up.”

Lister shakes his head slowly. “Rimmer,” he says, “you’ve got more hang-ups than Elton John’s feather boa rack. I’m not raising the kids like your parents did you, and I’m not going to lie on the sofa for the next seven months doing sod all.”

“Whereas normally you’re such a ball of energy,” Rimmer snipes, but his heart’s not in it.

“Yeah,” Lister agrees calmly, “I’ve a strict schedule of slobbing about in different places and I’m gonna stick to it. Rimmer.” Rimmer flicks his head up guiltily and Lister offers him an exhausted look. “You can’t just decide to only care about my health when it suits your trauma and really annoys me, alright?”

Rimmer frowns. “Why not?” he whinges - which is a surprise, because Lister was anticipating him latching onto the caring thing, and not getting much further.

Lister spreads his hands. “All or nothing, baby,” he says firmly and with cheer, and then shoots Rimmer a wink - which reminds him of the aforementioned caring thing, and sets him off sputtering.

“And - and I don’t care,” he manages in the end. “Watch me not caring, you odious toad.”

“Uh-huh,” Lister says, and then, when Rimmer chances a glance his way, blows him a kiss to make him go all red and cross. It’s really ridiculously endearing.

“This,” Rimmer says, pointing at him, “is a manifestation of my dreadful upbringing, and, and Stockholm syndrome, anyway.”

Lister manages a grin, and lets it go. As he slumps back into the sofa, he can’t help but wish that Rimmer wasn’t probably right - and not just because the man is obnoxious and intolerable on a good day, when he’s wrong - and failing that, that this Stockholm syndrome, this resolute and unbending care that humans apparently manifest for one another despite literally everything when there is nothing else in the universe except a few creeping lifeforms and the persistent love they put out like radiation from a life-destroying nuclear incident, touching everything and making it all complicated - he cannot help but wish that it wasn’t there, or that it was there more, or something. That Lister loved him less, or that Rimmer loved him more, or that there was anything, anything at all, that Lister could do to change that.

But there isn’t, and he hasn’t got a hope in hell of Rimmer ever acknowledging affection without yelling got you afterwards, so he’d better just - stop bothering, really. Lister sighs, and smoothes his shirt over his stomach. He doesn’t care that Rimmer doesn’t want to care. He’s fine about it.

He hears his own brain make the game show noise. In a fit of pique, he removes one vile sock and throws it into the cleared space designed for the cots, and tries not to think about the hair-pulling sense of satisfaction he gets from listening to Rimmer yell at him.

[benedictscanvas]

all the wrong places [finale] - spencer reid x reader

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: It only takes a moment for Spencer to realise that he doesn’t just want to marry you someday, he wants to marry you as soon as he possibly can. But since he can’t come up with a solid plan, he turns to his BAU family for help in planning the most important day of his life so far. Is that a mistake? Most definitely.

Warnings: Series probably aren’t meant to be exclusively fluffy, but this one practically is! I need some fluff in my life, damn it! There may be some mention of regular Criminal Minds things, some language but mostly just good ol’ Spence lovin’

A/N: We’re finally here. It was so, so difficult to finish off a series so long in the making, so I truly hope I’ve done it justice for everyone. As always, I love you all dearly, and thank you for all your support on the series and beyond. Enjoy <3

---

Chapter Seven

Spencer heard you slip out of bed earlier in the morning than you usually would, but still didn’t say anything. Even though he knew for certain that neither of you had slept at all, even though he wanted to just tell you that he would happily marry you tomorrow, even though lying next to you all night and trying not to cry had been torture.

He’d realised about an hour into his desperation that he wasn’t going to be able to simply turn over and explain himself, because you would think he was lying. How could he convince you that he wanted to marry you when his entire demeanour had suggested otherwise? He could show you the ring, but then he’d be proposing at two in the morning in your bed when the two of you were trying not to cry. That wasn’t the story he wanted you to excitedly relate to your coworkers, your family, your future children.

At the thought of your future children, he couldn’t help but begin his silent crying.

Now, tears long dried up as he’d stared blankly at the ceiling, he checked his phone. 5am. He could hear you rustling around getting dressed in the room next door. Quicker than he could comprehend, he heard the front door slowly click shut. You’d left already. Definitely didn’t want to hum along to your combined favourite playlist on the way to work this morning, then.

Knowing there was no point in lying there any longer, Spencer got up instead. When he trudged into the living room, rubbing his eyes, the post-it on the door almost made him lose his resolve not to cry again.

Thought I’d get an early start this morning, but I’ll leave you the car. I’m so sorry about last night, Spence. Love you x

He took a deep breath. He was proposing today, there was no doubt about that. He couldn’t let you go on a second longer without the knowledge that he’d been trying to propose to you for months and that he’d frozen because he had all these plans, terrible plans. He couldn’t just say yes when he wanted to show you just how much he wanted to marry you.

He picked up his phone, thinking about which of his friends would be able to help him most. There wasn’t much of a contest, since only one of them would already be up and therefore not too mad at him for calling at such an unsocial time.

“JJ? Can I come over?”

---

“Oh, Spence,” JJ sighed knowingly after Spencer had recalled the events of the previous evening with precise accuracy. They sat at her kitchen table, with Will looking after Henry elsewhere in the house, “You didn’t say anything?”

“I panicked, JJ, you know how much I’ve put into this. I didn’t know how to fix it, but I also couldn’t have just agreed to marry her right then and there when I’ve spent so long trying to make this proposal perfect.”

“I know, I know. This is going to take a lot of fixing though, Spence, if Y/N thinks you don’t want to marry her.”

“I know! That’s why I’m proposing today, no matter what happens, I’m not letting anything get in my way again.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? She won’t just think you’re proposing because you feel guilty?”

“Not if I explicitly tell her that’s not the case,” Spencer reasoned, and though JJ still looked unsure, she conceded with a half-smile.

“Okay, Spence, what do you need from me?”

“Not much. I just need you to keep everyone away from the break room for a while.”

“You’re proposing in the break room?” She asked, only a little incredulous. He rolled his eyes.

“It’s where we first met, JJ, that has to count for something.”

You were making the first round of coffee for everyone on your first morning. It felt like the right thing to do to get off on the right foot. When Spencer had come in to make his own, you’d insisted on making it for him too and he’d stood there awkwardly as he committed every plane of your face to memory. It didn’t take him long, roughly the same time it took him to fall madly in love with you as he added more sugar to the coffee you’d made him without thinking and you had grinned up at him without a word.

“Alright, alright,” JJ held her hands up in surrender, standing from the kitchen table as she glanced at the clock on the wall, “You’ve been here for hours Spencer, we’ve got to get going.”

Spencer nodded, feeling the bile rising in his throat. The ring box was in his pocket now because feeling the weight of it was the only thing keeping him grounded. The two of you never argued, not that this was an argument, but you never didn’t talk. It felt wrong, not kissing you awake this morning, not squeezing your hand as the two of you ate breakfast.

These were the things he wanted to do for the rest of his life. With you.

---

When Spencer and JJ stepped out of the elevator, later to work than they should’ve been, they caught a glimpse of everyone in the office suddenly turning back to their work. Spencer swore he saw Hotch turn on his heel and practically speed walk back towards his office. They opened the glass doors and both stared out at their colleagues suspiciously.

Spencer’s first thought was that Y/N was nowhere to be found, but JJ’s was clearly very different.

“Alright, what’s going on here?” She said instantly, despite the fact that no one was looking at them. Practically the whole team turned towards her with guilty looks on their faces, with Rossi appearing from a hiding spot behind Spencer’s own desk, “What are you all hiding?”

“Look, we were supposed to do this far more subtly, but since Rossi decided to hide,” Derek glared at Rossi mid-sentence who looked suitably embarrassed himself, “Reid, you should go to the break room.”

“What? Why should I go to-“

“Spencer,” Emily spoke up with a hopeful expression, “Just go to the break room.”

He managed to catch on at that point. It was more than likely that this was where he would find you. Had JJ called ahead and told them to get you in there so he could execute his plan? He smiled at everyone for their cooperation and rushed off towards the break room to find you.

But when he looked in the small window on the door, he couldn’t even see you. He was really hoping this wasn’t some elaborate prank by Derek, because he wasn’t sure he could handle that with no sleep and his heart beating out of his chest. He opened the door regardless, because maybe he could wait for you in-

His small surprised inhale almost sounded like a gasp. You were in the room, right in front of him, with shining eyes and a smile that looked equal parts adoring and terrified.

And you were down on one knee.

His hand was frozen to the door knob. Feet glued to the floor. Eyes stuck on your face, flittering around those features he could recite by memory whether it was eidetic or otherwise. He still hadn’t moved, or spoken, or done anything and it was only when you were getting up and ushering him inside that he regained control over his body.

“Quick, close the door, I don’t want people listening to this,” you insisted quietly, bringing him fully inside the break room and closing the door behind him. He could hear you trying not to cry and it was jarring, “Derek will tease me for weeks. Months, even.”

And with that, you took up your position on one knee once again in front of him, getting down onto the floor with clumsy feet, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand as you took a deep breath. He knew to stay quiet for now.

“Okay, so, first thing you’ve probably noticed is that I don’t have a ring. I’m sorry. This was kind of spur of the moment, but if you say yes then Hotch said we could have the rest of the day off to go and find one for you, if that’s something you want-” you took another deep breath, this one out of necessity. It was hard to find time to breathe when there was so much you wanted to say all at once. His watery smile was prevalent as he reached out a hand and you took it in both of your own.

“Anyway, there’s more important things to say right now,” you continued, shaking your head, “I love you, Spencer Reid. In every way imaginable. More than even you could comprehend. You are everything. And I want to marry you desperately, not for ridiculous financial reasons, but because I want to be your wife. I said all that crap last night because I panicked. I want to be able to call you my husband and I want to have the same last name, whichever one we choose and I want to have a day where we celebrate just how amazing we are together.”

Spencer was definitely crying now, as were you, but somehow the shaky tone with which you said your words was only adding to how much you truly meant them. He didn’t have time to wonder how he managed to get so lucky, nor how he had messed this up so many times that you had felt the need to do it yourself. All he was thinking about was that he needed to make sure you knew how much he wanted this too, and quickly.

“Y/N-”

“One second, Spence, I’ve nearly finished I promise,” you insisted, and he wasn’t going to refuse you, silently rubbing soothing circles into your knuckles as one of his tears dripped down onto your joined hands, “I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and I want it to be immortalised on paper too, because we both love a document.”

He chuckled down at you disbelievingly.

“Doctor Spencer Reid, will you marry me?”

He took a deep breath and joined you on the floor, kneeling in front of you. He reached out with one hand to press his thumb to a tear on your face, not wiping away, simply savouring the feel of it against his skin. It didn’t take much to commit it, along with every detail of the moment, to memory.

“This is unconventional,” he mused, flicking his gaze all over your face, keeping his answer withheld just a little longer.

“Just because I’m the one proposing? I never took you for a traditional.”

“I was actually talking about us being on the floor of the break room at our workplace,” he explained, “Do you know how many people’s coffee we’re likely kneeling in right now?”

“I’m sure you could give me an unsurprisingly accurate estimate, my love,” you said kindly, with a patience he couldn’t understand, “But I’d much prefer you answer my question.”

He had been hoping you would say that, because it gave him the perfect opportunity to pull the ring box out of his pocket.

“Does this answer your question?’

Popping open the lid of the box and presenting the ring inside to you, he kept his eyes trained on your face to capture your reaction forever. It was better than he could have pictured. Sparkly eyes and shaking hands and sniffles and so much love.

“You just have that?”

“Have done for a while,” he admitted, closing his eyes for just a moment when you placed a careful hand on his face, “Been trying to do this for a long time, angel.”

The disbelief on your face is palpable, and he takes note of the fact that you’ve hardly even looked at the ring yet, your attention captured by him: only him. He’s never felt more loved. More whole.

“You have? I’m sorry I stole your thund-”

“No, no, never,” Spencer interrupted you, seeing the flash of guilt in your eyes even as you tried to hide it, “You could never. This just makes it better. You want to marry me enough to ask me twice?”

A wry smile from you is all the answer he needs. You answer him anyway.

“‘Course I do, baby.”

“Well then, since I want to marry you enough to have tried to ask five times,” he placed his own hand on top of yours on his face and nuzzled into it, ignoring your look of pure shock, “The answer is a yes.”

“To the original question?”

“And every other question that comes after it,” he confirmed and though you’re both still crying, your grins are lighting up the whole room, “What about you?”

“What about me?” you retorted, “I don’t remember you asking me a question, actu-”

“Will you marry me, Y/N?”

You were laughing through your tears now, at him, at the whole situation. He could feel the floor against his knees, the edges of pain creeping in as the two of you stayed on the floor for longer than you should have, but it wasn’t as if he wanted to go anywhere just yet.

“Oh, that question? Yeah, that’s a definite yes. A definite, absolute, no question about it-”

He cut you off again, but he didn’t feel too bad about it once your lips were on his and he was kissing you with everything he had in him. You may have been kneeling on the floor but his arms were around your waist, one travelling up your back and into your hair, keeping you as close as humanly possible. When he feels your hands in his own hair and your nails lightly scratching against his scalp he could swear that nothing in his life to come will ever come close to this feeling.

Then he remembers he’s going to have a wedding day with you in the not so distant future and if it’s even possible, he draws you closer. So close, with such fervour, that the ring box falls to the floor, utterly forgotten as a mere trinket in wake of the best moment of both of your lives.

He hears the door beginning to open behind him, even as he’s so focused on you in his arms, and he just knows that its the team, that they’ve been watching you silently this whole time. So, without much thought, his leg flew backwards behind him and made contact with the door, effectively shutting anyone and everyone else out of a moment that he needed to be just the two of you. It made a slight crashing noise, but when you tried pulling away, he only chased your lips until you were back together again and if the little sigh you gave him was any indicator, you wouldn’t be investigating the noise for just a little longer.

Whoever just tried to come in would be laying into him later, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

When you did finally part, with more reluctance than ever and heaving chests pressed against one another, you stayed close. Foreheads lightly grazing, breath intertwined along with your respective futures. He grabbed the ring box from the floor and opened it back up, taking out the ring with shaky fingers.

“May I?”

You merely giggle, leaning back away from him so that you could see his face properly as you wiggle your fingers in front of him excitedly. He takes your left hand in his tenderly and slides the ring on with a careful hand, kissing across your knuckles to seal the deal. When he looks back up, he sees your eyes have drifted behind him.

“Spence,” you say slowly, eyes trained on the door, “Did you kick the door shut when they tried to come in?”

He should have known you’d put it together when he stopped kissing you. Maybe he should never have stopped. That would solve most of his problems.

“He did!” an angry voice comes through the door, angry and loud and definitely belonging to Derek. Spencer finally turns, taking in the sight of every single one of his coworkers crowded haphazardly around the small window in the door to the break room, each in various states of happiness. There were even more tears outside the room than in it, with Penelope adding a significant number, but JJ, Derek and even Hotch were adding a few of their own to the count.

This time, when JJ pushed the door open, he didn’t shut it in her face, however much he still wanted to preserve his moment with you. When Garcia runs over and throws herself onto the floor to hug the both of you and the rest of the team follows suit, he supposes he doesn’t mind too much.

When he catches a glimpse of your face through all the hugging and you’re already staring at him, he decides he doesn’t mind at all.

---

“And the third time?”

“Ah, see, the third time is my personal favourite,” Emily said, trying not to join Penelope in her hysterical giggles at just the thought of the accidental flash mob she’d arranged, “Do you happen to remember when Penelope spotted Bruno Mars outside the building?”

Your brow furrowed and then there was clearly a moment when everything clicked in your head and your eyes widened.

“No! That was a proposal attempt?”

You were looking up at Spencer now and he just rolled his eyes good-naturedly, keeping his fingers entwined with yours over your shoulder. He had made sure that the pad of his finger was lightly pressed against the metal of the ring at all times during your engagement dinner, occasionally reminding himself of its shape with slow, deliberate strokes. A whole month since he’d put it there and still the feeling of it was electric each and every time.

“Not exactly,” he admitted, glancing at a still laughing Penelope, “Garcia ordered a flash mob, then forgot to cancel when I told her to, then saved the day with her quick thinking.”

You blinked.

“I”m sorry, what?!”

And soon Emily was launching into the full story, reminding you of the little details of the moment that you would have missed at the time, Derek chiming in too, if only to describe the varying degrees of panic on Spencer’s face. He was happy to sit back in his booth seat and let them tell it, if only because it gave him perfect opportunity to enjoy the story along with you, through your expressions and comments and persistent laughter.

Derek soon transitioned into explaining the very awkward moment with Emily on the jet, to which you were again shocked to hear how terrible everyone’s ideas had really been. You and JJ had already had a lighthearted argument about her terrible restaurant idea, although both of you were very clearly joking around.

“Hey, Reid,” Hotch said lowly, gaining his attention during the dinner when Dave was talking about the time after the bomber came into the police precinct a couple of weeks ago. Spencer turned to him at the head of the table, “I think it turned out perfect, in the end. I’m proud of you.”

“Even if I was beaten to it?”

Hotch chuckled, but placed a hand on Reid’s shoulder nonetheless.

“Even so.”

“Thanks, Hotch,” Spencer replied sincerely, really meaning it. Hotch gave him a single nod before retracting his hand and asking JJ to pass the garlic bread. The moment had been short, but Hotch being proud of him was something that he had always held close to his heart.

When he turned back to you, the botched proposal stories seemed to be coming to an end and in the momentary silence, you spoke up, one hand still entwined with his own but the other holding up your glass.

“I’d like to make a toast,” you said, encouraging everyone to raise their glasses with you, “Which may be unconventional, but it has to be said. I want to thank you all for coming here to celebrate our engagement tonight, but also for every bit of support you’ve all given us over the years. We love you and we couldn’t be more grateful, however terrible your proposal ideas might have been.”

A resounding laugh from everyone, and a protest from Dave who insisted that his advice was brilliant all along. Derek managed to silence him with just a look. They began to clink their glasses together, but you weren’t quite done yet, and Spencer knew it.

“Just before we toast, I’d also like to suggest that you all enroll yourselves on a profiling refreshers course, first thing Monday morning,” you paused for dramatic effect, soaking in the confusion from everyone at the table as Spencer just stared down at you in awe, the smile on his face unable to be contained, “Because the fact that none of you have noticed that I’ve not touched a drop of champagne tonight is a real embarrassment to us all.”

Silence. Gears clicking into place. Then - uproar.

Spencer sees the utter joy appearing on everyone’s faces and can’t help but lean into you, kissing your temple once, twice, three times. Before he can do a fourth, you’ve turned to him, your glistening eyes on his as you kiss him properly. He can’t help the hand that falls to rest on your stomach as he does so, overwhelmed with noise, laughter and so much love.

---

taglist (ily all <3)

@mrs-dr-reid @soda610 @alexxcorona113 @thupidalethea @may-beforejune-afterapril @ilovesupersoldiers @hurricanejjareau @mortallythoughtfulgurl @aperrywilliams@saranyx @anotherspencerreidblog @thegayestdestielshipper @burkgolden @zozoleesi  @sargent-barnes @halseysunset @blameitonthenight21 @televisiondreamstomorrow @dralexreid​ 

[delicioussshame]

Please donate to my campaign. My goal is to get friends for Shen Yuan.

Shen Yuan almost jumps out of his skin when he hears a knock on the door. No one had ever visited Luo Binghe since he came to stay here, and he had gotten the impression that it wasn’t that Luo Binghe had sent his usual visitors away for his guest’s sake. He does believe that his favorite student had been dreadfully lonely, these past few years.

How somehow as endearing as Luo Binghe ended up alone and friendless, Shen Yuan cannot fathom.  

Still, if someone is knocking on the door, the doorman must have let them in? It must be important then. Shen Yuan cannot imagine nobodies are allowed anywhere within this complex.

He thinks about texting Luo Binghe to ask, but what if he disturbs him? He must be busy, away at his important job while Shen Yuan does nothing but lazing around. And Luo Binghe did imply that he wouldn’t be ashamed of Shen Yuan’s presence no matter what, so… let’s test that, shall we?

Shen Yuan opens the door.

Shang Qinghua’s frazzled expression faces him.

Shen Yuan almost closes the door in his former colleague’s face.

“Wait, what, Shen Yuan?! Woah, I had no idea you went back to your parents, I thought you said that bridge had burned. Anyway, would love to catch up, but I’m on the clock and at the wrong place, sorry, gotta go or my boss is gonna kill me, bye!”

Shen Yuan stops Shang Qinghua by the shoulder to stop him from leaving. “If you were looking for Luo Binghe, not that I have any idea why you would be, you’re not at the wrong place.”

“Really? Why? How? Is there a story here? Cause it sure seems like there’s a story here. Tell me the story! But later, I have to deliver this?” He waves a boring manilla envelope like it’s supposed to make sense.

“Who still sends letters?”

Shang Qinghua shrugs. “My boss.”

“You’re a mail carrier now? Nice upgrade.”

“Well, I do what I have to do, I don’t live with the country’s most eligible bachelor. Seriously Bro, what happened here? Isn’t he a bit young for you?”

Shen Yuan is sure his blush is terribly incriminating, but he can’t help it.

“Wow. You have to tell me now.”

Shang Qinghua is acting terribly familiar for a guy Shen Yuan hasn’t seen since graduation. “Why should I?”

But Shang Qinghua has already let himself in, unceremoniously dropping the envelope on the nearest table and taking everything in with wide eyes before he lets himself fall on Luo Binghe’s designer couch without a care in the world. “C’mon. Fess up.”

“How about you? Why are you even here? For all I know you’re a thief trying to rob the place.”

Shang Qinghua snorts. “Not exactly my speed.” He shrugs. “Teaching didn’t pay the bills, got an administrative assistant job instead and somehow ended up working for one of Luo Binghe’s associates, hence the private delivery service. How about you? When I saw you earlier, I was sure you were retired and profiting off that sweet family money, but was I wrong? Or is this those Shen connections at work?”

Shen Yuan frowns. Why did he even tell this guy about his family again?

Oh yes, because he had been young, stupid and drunk: the university experience. “No. Luo Binghe is a former student of mine. I’m visiting.”

Shang Qinghua gives him the world’s judgiest look. “Visiting.”

Shen Yuan nods, face still as a lake. “Visiting.”

“While Luo Binghe isn’t there.”

Shen Yuan nods again. “It’s a long visit. I’m staying here right now.”

“At your former student’s house. Look, I’m just gonna say it: sleeping with your student is bad. Don’t do it! That way lies lawsuits!”

“Former student! And it’s not like that!” Technically correct. They haven’t slept together, not in the way Shang Qinghua implies they did. “He’s just lonely and a bit deluded. It’ll pass.”

Probably.

No, not even Shen Yuan believes it at this point. One can only be kissed so often before one has to face reality: Luo Binghe certainly thinks he cares about Shen Yuan more than a student should care about any teacher.

Shen Yuan just isn’t sure what he should do about it.

“If it’s not like that, which, Bro, you’re not making a good case for, you’re staying with him because…?”

“I’m on vacation?” Shen Yuan lies back on the cool leather. “It’s a nice place for it, and cheap.”

“And your “former student” was eager to host you. You, his high school teacher? Because from what my boss told me, Luo Binghe isn’t exactly famous for his openness. I’m half-certain Mobei-Jun sent me here as punishment. He wanted someone else to chew me up this time.”

Shen Yuan snorts. “Still very competent, I see.”

“Well, at least I was teaching my students, not offering “extra credits” if they stayed after class. And since when are you into men, anyway? You always acted like you didn’t notice when men hit on you.”

“Men never hit on me.”

It’s Shang Qinghua’s turn to laugh. “Glad to see that didn’t change. Luo Binghe must be something, to have managed to get through you. What did he tell you, that he wanted to bend you over the nearest desk? Anything less and you’d have been blind to it.”

For fuck’s sake can Shang Qinghua stop saying shit that embarrasses the hell out of Shen Yuan? It’d be very appreciated.

“Oh shit, he totally did! Go him! Did it work? Tell me it worked!”

“No! Can’t you shut up for once in your meaningless life!”

“Not gonna happen. I need to know more. He made a move, and you’re living with him now? His charisma must be something else. At that speed, when’s the wedding? No, wait, how long has this been going on? We haven’t seen each other in forever, you might have been “visiting” for three years as far as I know.”

This is torture. “Didn’t you say you had somewhere to be?”

Shang Qinghua waves his attempt at deflection away. “Forget it, this is way more interesting. Even Mobei-Jun will want in on this. Sooooo?”

Shen Yuan sighs. “I’ve only been here a few weeks. As I said, it’s just a vacation. I’ll leave once the school year starts again.”

“Why can’t you stay here anyway? That dear student of yours must want to keep you, right? Unless you’re really being bankrolled by your parents, this is way nicer than anything you could possibly afford.”

“No matter what he says, I’m not becoming Luo Binghe’s trophy wife.”

Shang Qinghua’s eyes widen. “Ooh, your student wanna be your daddy? He’s paying you to keep you around, is that it? Oh, that has to be it. Explains the weird evasiveness thing you’ve got going on. Never knew you had it in you. I’m impressed, really. Much better gig than my own. I wish my boss would pay me to lounge around on his expensive furniture. I’d be great at that. Plus, you know, it’s not like it’d be a hardship. Mobei-Jun is scorching. I’d be his arm candy any day. Maybe he’d be less likely to murder me that way.”

Shen Yuan longs desperately to return to the web novel he so cruelly abandoned to let his worst nightmare in. “I’d give you my job, but honestly Binghe deserves better.” Better than Shen Yuan, too. “At least you’re into men. Makes things easier.”

Shang Qinghua’s face falls. “Are you telling me you’re not into him? Like, at all? Why are you even here then? The money can’t be that good. Return to your parents and get them to arrange a marriage to a rich heiress. Same result, plus you’re attracted to your partner. Better?”

Shen Yuan flinches in horror. ���No! Not better! My parents AND some spoiled brat who only cares about my name? Fuck no. Binghe is infinitely better than that!”

Shang Qinghua laughs. “So you do like him! Good for you! Go get him, tiger!”

“No! Well, yes I do, Binghe is very likable, but not like that!”

“Oh my god can you hear the shit that comes out of your mouth? Look, you obviously trust him enough to agree to be his live-in boy toy, and okay, I haven’t seen you in forever, but whatever you’re doing is visibly agreeing with you. What were you doing anyway? It’s not like Luo Binghe is here most of the day.”

Shen Yuan shrugs. “Catching up on my reading, mostly.”

Shang Qinghua chokes. “Fuck you. He’s paying you to read? While I’m still trying to get pay to write? I hate you with every single atom of my being.”

“Wait, you’re still writing? Please tell me you’ve upgraded genre, at least.”

“Well…”

“Oh god show me now so I can change your mind before you waste even more of your life on this trash,” says Shen Yuan like he hadn’t caved and spent Luo Binghe’s hard-earned money on extras for novels he hates.

___________________

Luo Binghe is caught completely off guard by the loud voices echoing in his home. Even with Laoshi here, silence is what usually he’s greeted with.

Today, Shen Yuan’s voice is alight with what sounds like righteous anger. He can’t quite place the second one.

Luo Binghe follows the call like a sailor freed from his bonds.

He finds Shen-laoshi half-draped over his chair, Mobei-Jun’s lackey sitting at the desk Luo Binghe had bought for his teacher alone, both of them apparently enraptured with an argument about… bad literature?

Luo Binghe wishes he could be pleased with the sight of Shen-laoshi being this animated, but he can’t. He’s not the one who caused it. This little, insignificant man did, to the point that neither of them noticed his approach.

Luo Binghe taps Shen Yuan’s shoulder. “Laoshi.”

Both of them turn toward him, but only Shen-laoshi gets Luo Binghe’s tongue down his throat.

He is very pleased with the outraged look on his teacher’s face. “Binghe! Not in front of the guest!”

The interloper jumps out of Laoshi’s chair. “Guest? What guest? There is no guest, no one here’s. In fact, I should have left hours ago, oh god Mobei-Jun is going to kill me. Shen Yuan, please give Luo Binghe the envelope, sorry for bothering you both, talk to you later, gotta go byyyye!”

Luo Binghe watches the little man flee in terror with satisfaction. Good riddance.

Let’s see him try to contest Luo Binghe’s claim now. “How does Laoshi know Mobei-Jun’s personal assistant?”

“We studied together in college.”

Luo Binghe pouts. How could an old friend of Shen-laoshi find him here? “Were you two close?”

Shen Yuan shrugs. “Not especially. Why do you ask?”

That can’t be true. They were so at ease around each other. It can take Luo Binghe hours to get Shen-laoshi this relaxed.

He stays silent.

Shen Yuan stares at him. “Binghe.”

“…Yes?”

“I realise this is going to sound ridiculous, and for that I’m sorry, but are you.., jealous? Of Shang Qinghua?”

Luo Binghe might be pouting harder. “No. Why would I be jealous of one of Shen-laoshi’s friends he never told me about.”

A (very cute) smile appears shows up on Shen Yuan’s face. “You. Luo Binghe. Are jealous of Shang Qinghua.”

He dares to laugh! It’s not funny!

This time, Luo Binghe is definitely pouting harder.

“Binghe. Binghe. You’re you. Shang Qinghua is… Shang Qinghua. What do you have to be jealous about? He’s just Shang Qinghua! Come back to your senses!”

Well, that does cheer Luo Binghe right up. “Shen-laoshi likes me better!”

Shen Yuan rolls his eyes. “Of course I do.”

Luo Binghe’s chest remains warm for the rest of the day.

[mutilatedmadonna]

A Heart To Heart Conversation (Not Literally Jesus Christ Where Did You Even Get That)

YOOOOOO made it with one hour to spare but ya girl still has her submission for the @secret-shifters gift exchange! This is for the lovely and talented @hiddendreamer67 who I was so fucking excited to write for! Also side note, I started a fic before this one but it was taking too long for my taste so I popped out this sucker instead. That being said like............why waste a perfectly good fic.............why not finish it eventually...........and still gift it to her since it’s techinically her prompt lmaoooo

I will go back and edit this post to include the AO3 link when I publish it :3c

Anyways

Warnings: Mild depictions of gore, fearplay; obviously, it’s all I know how to write whoops

Some people are great talkers, others are fantastic listeners. Some listen so well, in fact, they’re willing to destroy a government lab for you.

“Stop, please, I don’t want to hurt you!”

As if Derrick stood a fucking chance against the massive creature that was currently inching closer to him, crouched low to fit within the compound’s hallways. The alarm ringing was making his head pound, an unfortunate addition to his dizziness he’d been overcome with as soon as he saw the first body. Well, bodies. It had wiped out nearly every scientist and researcher in that sector as soon as it was freed from its cage, growling and hissing all the while as it dug its teeth and nails into the panicking humans. How it escaped at all was still a mystery and probably forever would be. As soon as it clawed its way through the protective lockdown doors into gen pop, all hell really broke loose. Guards tried and failed to take it down, hoping to wound the monster at best so that it could be recontained, but even as more backup arrived with heavier artillery, they never stood a chance. It was fast, it was strong, it was pissed, and it seemed to have a taste for blood and bones.

He didn’t know if it had any sort of plan beyond escaping the observational cage it had been trapped in for years, seemingly going into halls and sectors at random to slaughter the hapless scientists seeking refuge. The only reason Derrick had survived this long was simply because he ran and he continued to run. There was no use trying to hide, it was too good at tracking, so instead he did his damnedest to stay ahead of it. It had been working pretty well until he was stopped by the door at the last hall, a dead end to safety potentially. The only problem being his fucking keycard wasn’t high enough clearance to open it. He could hear it getting closer, hear the screams and crunch of bodies and deep growls that echoed all around. His breathing became more ragged the louder the sounds grew, knowing it was just one final turn away from being at the far end of the hall with a straight shot right to Derrick. No, no, no, he didn’t want to die like this. Not at the hands of this beast, not at the hands of...shit, what he thought was almost his friend.

It was his job to observe the creature in its confinement at night and take excruciating notes about every sigh and twitch it might make. It was truly as boring as it sounded, especially when the creature was awake a majority of his shift but only laid on the floor, quiet and still. It looked depressed and Derrick didn’t blame it. It had long since been locked away before he had even started at the organization, subjected to trials and tests day in and day out for hours so that the scientists could jot down these amazing discoveries. He had no idea what they planned on doing with all this data they were collecting given that this whole place was top secret, the creature certainly never meant to see the light of day. Or rather, people were never meant to see the creature. It’d cause mass hysteria. So, one evening, a few hours into the terribly dull silence he started talking aloud. Not to anyone in particular and not about anything exciting, just idle chit chat with the wall, really. 

He never expected the creature to perk up at the sound of his voice, eyeing him curiously as he continued on. He certainly never expected to turn his head back towards the massive bay window to see it sitting much closer than before. Still watching him with wide, yellow eyes and tilting its head when he quickly shut his mouth. It had never moved so close before, hell it never even showed interest in him before beyond a few glances when he’d first enter the small overhanging room. At the same time, it didn’t appear aggressive or annoyed with his mindless ramblings. In fact, when he had stayed quiet for a minute during their staring contest, it chirped at him. Like it was...encouraging him to talk again. So he did, nervously at first before getting back into the flow of whatever random thought he had at the moment. And every time the creature would just sit and listen, its full attention on Derrick, with the occasional dozing off in the midst of his longer topics. He wasn’t sure how much it actually understood him. After all, it never listened to any directions it was given during another trial, but then again that could have just been out of spite and defiance. It didn’t speak English to his knowledge as it had never once given him a reply, but that didn’t mean it didn’t know it.

It never really responded, but there were quite a few times it would react to whatever he was saying. He theorized it was basing most of its assumptions off of whatever emotion he was portraying in his speeches. When he was visibly upset about some incident with Travis down in aquatics, it would whine. When he was excited about some great news he was dying to share with someone, it would chirp. When he was exhausted for one reason or another, unable to keep his eyes open or his stories coherent, it would purr. Almost as if it was trying to lull him to sleep, which it succeeded in every time with its soft white noise. If he were to be honest, he genuinely looked forward to his evening shift just about every day. Derrick could get so much shit out of his head and off his chest without having to worry about what the creature would think about him later. Maybe this was just a trick of the mind, but...it almost seemed just as happy to see him as soon as he would appear in that bay window, immediately twitching its ears up and moving closer.

Clearly, the mutual bond was not reciprocated.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, why the fuck would the creature like him? He was just another human that stared at him for science and soon enough he’d be just another human ground under its palm until his organs burst. Perhaps it just liked hearing the sound of his voice, anything being better than the silence it was constantly surrounded in, or maybe it had always been sizing him up for a snack. He had never written any of these emotional reactions down. He didn’t...well, it was hard to put in the right words, but he just didn’t want his superiors to have that knowledge that could understand feelings for the most part. That it appeared to like him. That it could be docile. Almost like he was trying to protect it from more severe and psychological tests they would surely run. He wondered if things would be different if he actually did report his findings, like if they could have prevented whatever triggered its rage strong enough to rip down doors and walls.

It was creeping closer now, claws clicking along the concrete floor. It was absolutely soaked in blood, especially around its mouth and hands. The way its tail jerked side to side reminded him of an irritated cat, which he didn’t take as a good sign. It wasn’t like Derrick actually had something to protect himself with like he so claimed. His bluff was called in an instant and it made a throaty rumble in response to his threat. It had been difficult to see at a distance with the flashing, red light acting almost as a cheap strobe, but now that it was only a few yards away, he could very clearly tell there was something hanging from its mouth. Something large and dripping and red and oh Christ it was a body. He hoped the poor bastard wasn’t alive anymore for mercy’s sake, firmly clamped between its jaws and impaled on its fangs. Was that a sign of things to come for him? He pressed as much as he could against the lock door in a vain attempt to somehow phase through to the other side and reach safety. With no such luck, he slid down to sit on the floor instead and covered his head with his arms curling in tightly on himself. He was shaking something terrible and tears still managed to find a way to escape his shut eyes. This was never how he imagined he’d meet his end, but either way he didn’t want to see it coming. Maybe if it did like him just a smidge, it would grant him a quick and painless death. He doubted it, though. It sounded like it enjoyed the struggles of its prey far too much.

Derrick could tell when it was hovering right above him. Its shadow engulfed him, blood dripped steadily into a puddle in front of him, spreading out across the floor until it actually touched his shoes. Fuck, he couldn’t help the sob that escaped him. He was scared. Strangely enough, it didn’t...do anything to him as seconds ticked by agonizingly slow. Staring at him, he presumed? Just how it would when there was a safety window between them. Something heavy landed in front of him with a disgusting squish, splattering more blood onto him. When the silence stretched on again, he hesitantly cracked open an eye to see what was supposedly laying at his feet and immediately wished he didn’t.

It was fucking Travis. Or what was left of him, anyways, torn to shreds and missing a few vital chunks from his body. Derrick wanted to throw up, but his throat was already choked up with more panicked cries. He looked away from the corpse, not wanting to take in anymore of the gory details and instead looked at the face of the creature. It didn’t look upset in the slightest, not like how angered it had been dismembering every other unlucky human in its path. Instead, it just stared back at him with those same wide, yellow eyes, tilting its head at Derrick’s lack of reaction. It leaned down to nudge the body closer to him with its nose, pushing it against his legs and rumbling curiously. No, no, no, get it off, get it off!

“S-stop! I don’t fucking w-want it!” He cried, kicking his legs out to shove the remains away from him. What was he supposed to do with it anyways!? Why was it showing off its latest kill, like it was seeking his approval, like it--

...like it did it for him.

The night before last, he and Travis got into it again in the break room. He was already pissed about being transferred to the division the creature was in and leaving his previous work behind. It could have been because Derrick happened to be the only one there or because he was one of the younger hires, the asshole decided to take his frustration out on him instead. Snide comments turned into full on insults and all Derrick wanted was some goddamn coffee before he clocked out. Waiting for the machine to finish brewing wasn’t worth it at this point, he could pick up a cup somewhere else on the way home. He tried to leave, but Travis blocked the doorway and he, not being in the fucking mood, tried to shoulder past him instead. It was very much not appreciated as the next thing he knew he was being pinned against the wall, the lapels of his coat clenched in his fist. He was absolutely ready to throw hands with this guy before he backed off suddenly, another coworker entering the break room with a cheery greeting and total obliviousness.

Maybe he should have told his superiors about the incident, but he chose instead to vent about it to the creature the next night. As soon as he mentioned when it got physical, its ears flatten back and it growled, though Derrick was too consumed by his own emotions to really care about its apparent threat display. After that was when it had clawed its way to freedom and started its rampage. That...that couldn’t have been what set it off though, right? There had to be other catalysts surely. However, it didn’t change the fact how eagerly it was presenting the mauled corpse of his aggressor, almost as if to say look! For you!

Did that mean...it really did understand him? It understood enough that Travis had tried to attack him and he was not his biggest fan right now. He had been really worked up during that little rant, too, probably making it sound worse than it actually was. Either way, it didn’t like that and took matters into its own hands. Or, mouth rather. This must be its interpretation of protecting him, killing the threat before it could strike again. Good thing he wasn’t one to usually bad mouth coworkers or the creature possibly could have had its massacre sparked by Derrick being mildly annoyed that Sarah always forgot to clean out the coffee filter when she was done.

The creature looked at the body as it was kicked back towards it, whining slightly. Was it upset that he didn’t accept its gracious tribute? That wouldn’t start another fit of anger, would it? He thought it just might when he scoot forward those remaining few injuries to press its face against Derrick’s trembling body. Its bloody mouth transferred an unfortunate amount of gore onto his clothing, but he had other things to worry about, like how close its fucking mouth full of fangs was to his more important organs. The nose buried into his chest rubbed gently, trailing up his neck and to the side of his head. Purrs rumbled with each quiet breath, taking care not to accidentally deafen him. He still cried out when the creature invaded his personal space, though he didn’t have much room to struggle as he was pinned between the door and the face. He whimpered regardless, trying to turn his head to avoid being nuzzled and ultimately failing.

If he thought the impromptu cuddling was bad, he was in for a worse shock when the creature pulled back just a hair, foolishly thinking that it finally had its fill of smelling him or scenting him or what the fuck ever. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy, not when a black tongue darted out from smiling lips to lick him from his stomach to the crown of his head in one, quick swipe. Now that made him actually scream out some sort of pathetic, strangled sound, squirming about as he was lapped again and again and again.

“N-no, don’t, p-please!” He begged uselessly, “D-don’t kill m-me, please, p-please, don’t e-eat me!”

Much to his surprise, the creature actually pulled away from him after that last remark, tilting its head questioningly again. While Derrick was in the middle of his panic attack, doing his damnedest to keep his cries from becoming too harsh, it crossed its arms and rested its head on them, watching as he tried to collect himself to no avail. When it seemed like he was starting to slip deeper into his episode, it started to purr. Quiet and soft, a nice noise to help drown out that increasingly annoying siren. And the worst part was that he really was actually starting to calm down. Not that he liked being so scared he couldn’t breathe, but it was the sheer fact that it was the creature bringing him comfort when it was the one who terrified him in the first place. His sobs quieted down after a few minutes and when they were ragged breaths instead, it started to chitter. Little chirps and purrs and throaty noises he could only assume were directed at him since that’s where it was staring so intently, though the sounds meant nothing to him. Was that how it felt when he used to talk to it for hours on end?

Was it trying to talk to him to soothe him, because him talking to it made it feel relaxed?

He supposed their time together was a much needed break from being poked and prodded and tested and it started to associate Derrick with that mini luxury. The talking probably gave it a sense of company considering he had no fucking clue if and where other members of its species resided. Maybe this friendship wasn’t as one sided as he thought. Maybe it cared so much about the stupid little human that would blather his entire shift that it was willing to rip the facility inside out just to get rid of his bully. One by one his muscles started to uncoil their tension until he was sagging against the door. His breathing was still labored, but he could at least get a steady breath through his nose rather than his gasping mouth. A minute tremor in his hands was all that was left of his previous quivering and his headache was now replaced with a cloudy exhaustion. The creature was still making its imitation noises, only tapering off when Derrick managed to raise his head up and look at it.

“You won’t hurt me...will you?” His voice was so small and weak, it was a good thing the creature had fairly strong hearing.

It responded by bumping its nose into his chest again, smiling all the while. Affection. It liked him. Hesitantly, he raised a hand and gingerly placed it on the creature’s cheek, giving it a tiny pat.

“...you...you know we’re fucked when the army comes...right?” They were a last resort when all other failsafes went south and had yet to be deactivated. It wasn’t their job to find and help survivors, it was their job to make sure nothing about this event was leaked into the public. Be it the experiment itself or scientists who could potentially blackmail the directors.

It shifted to push itself back into a crouched position, lowering towards him with its mouth open. He flinched and turned away which seemed to be exactly what it wanted, clamping down on the back of his shirt and jacket and narrowly missing giving his back a nasty scrape. Derrick all but squeaked in surprise when he felt himself be lifted up, dangling a few dozen feet in the air. It was like he had the same POV as the creature, watching its hands paw at the locked door until claws were able to scratch through the metal in large gouges. Wiring and mechanics were exposed as a result and with a little more tearing and pulling, it opened the entry wide enough for it to slip through, Derrick in tow. Huh. Guess keycards we’re always a necessity. 

He hadn’t the faintest idea where they were headed, but it seemed like the creature had a general sense of direction and so far it was taking the correct route to the surface, to outside. For the moment, he didn’t have a single thing to say and simply let himself sway with the creature’s gait. Its intentions with him after they escaped into the world above were pretty vague at best, but he couldn’t really find the energy to care right now. As long as the military hadn’t beaten them to the exit, they’d be fine. 

They could talk later about their really unconventional future later.

[thewickedmerman]

Zendaya STILL Can’t Act

First of all, I do NOT dislike Zendaya. She is a kind and genuine person that truly has a good heart and is the type of person that more celebrities should be like. I may not be a fan of her due to her not really being that talented, but I have a lot of respect for her as a person (Unless she does something in the future). So before any of you immature Zendaya fans come after me, just remember that you’re just making her look bad because you’re acting like a bunch of immature, annoying babies that can’t accept different opinions.

Anyway, just because she is a good person, that doesn’t mean she can’t be criticized for her work. I’m sorry, but she is NOT a good actress! Before any of you start bringing up her Emmy win, you realize that those don’t mean anything because they have been accused of being rigged and acting more as a popularity contest rather than a contest of TRUE talent, right? Some are even arguing that this year they were trying to avoid being accused of racism with the BLM movement by having most of the winners be black. I don’t agree with that because, apart from Zendaya, all the winners that are black truly did deserve their awards because they are amazingly talented people. However, if the Emmys were truly legit, Lana Parrilla would’ve been nominated and won an award for Best Supporting Actress in Once Upon a Time and Bella Thorne should’ve won an Emmy for her performance in the TV movie, Perfect High. Zendaya is a popular celebrity but popular doesn’t mean she has talent. It’s like how a lot of kids in school that are popular aren’t popular because they are a nice person that people like. Popularity isn’t always deserved. I mean, look at how Viola FREAKING Davis, the most talented actress EVER, didn’t get a nomination this year, despite receiving and winning a lot of Emmy’s over the years. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure colorism played a part there as well, but Zendaya is NO WHERE near the level of an Emmy worthy actress and did not deserve to win against the likes of the other nominations that are FAR more talented, versatile, and experienced.

However, let me explain the flaws of her acting. I’ll be fair and pretend that I acknowledge the bullshit argument that Disney Channel acting is supposed to over-the-top and bad as a “legit” argument, because critiquing that nonsense is a subject for another post on another day. Lets focus on her acting in things outside of Disney Channel. Well, her acting still sucks. While she was over-the-top in Disney Channel, she takes a new extreme by being absolutely emotionless. I know people are gonna say that her reason for acting like that in Euphoria and Spiderman is that it’s part of her character. Okay, while I think she still performs those type of characters poorly, I will be fair and accept that for now. However, what about her performance in something like The Greatest Showman?

What was her excuse in The Greatest Showman? She wasn’t playing a Daria knock-off or a drug addict there. She was playing a character that required a lot of emotion in order to make the audience feel for her struggle. I won’t mention how her being white passing (And YES, she is white passing because she’s going to be staring in a movie called A White Lie about a woman who was white passing and pretended to be white in order to attend college, so she admits she’s white passing) made her miscast for the part. I will just be talking about how bad her acting was. Ignoring the scene where she’s crying by Phillip’s bedside (Which admittedly was really good), her performance is always so wooden and emotionless. She goes around with a blank look on her face most of the time with the occasional smile and confused look on her face. Her line delivery is almost always so flat, she’s always monotone unless she’s singing, she sounds like she’s reading her lines off cue cards, and sometimes she says her lines in a hammy tone.

I’ll describe some examples of her bad acting in the movie, since I can’t show clips due to how Youtube is always taking videos down that are clips from movies. When she asks if they were all invited to see the Queen, she says it with absolutely no emotion. She comes off as though she doesn’t care and I don’t mean doesn’t care as in acting like she doesn’t care so that she doesn’t come off as vulnerable; it’s more like she just doesn’t care like how a kid in a school play just doesn’t care and is putting in no effort at all. And the way she makes a pause in the middle of the sentence makes it come off even worse. “Are we all... invited?” Come on! Put in some effort!

Another example being when Phillip touches her hand during Jenny Lind’s performance. Zendaya just has a blank look on her face and all she does is take a breath. This should be an emotional moment for Anne. The man she... loves? I mean, the character and the romance are so underwritten that it’s hard to tell how she feels about him at this point. Anyway, the man the loves finally does something to display his affection for her in public, so she should be having a surprised look on her face that grows into a smile and trying to hold back tears of joy. Unfortunately, all she’s doing is just acting the way she did before he touched her hand. We don’t see how she feels about finally holding his hand or even him touching her finger with his. At that moment, she should show some slight hope but also skepticism by brushing it off as him give trying to make her happy by doing the bare minimum, which would transition to emotional happiness as he holds her entire hand. But all we get is a slight deep breath and the same blank look she always had. When he took his hand away from her after people are whispering about them, this should be a moment where she looks shocked, as well as hurt that she let her guard down because she let him make her believe that he truly cared about her enough that there was a glimmer of hope for their love. But she just looks at him with a blank and emotionless look on her face. She’s not displaying all the many emotions that the character should be feeling. When she walks away, she doesn’t look hurt but rather looks like someone who just tooted a little. What made her or the director think she was doing a good job there? Where is the emotion? The complexity? The depth? She showed about as much emotion as the characters in that terrible “live-action” remake of The Lion King.

Another scene being where she’s at the theatre, which she ruined with her performance. The way she talks to the ticket man was so wooden and robotic. She should’ve came off as someone who was clearly trying not to be scared but you can tell that she is. Why? Because she is a black woman (Or rather is supposed to look like one) and is out of her element because someone that isn’t white wouldn’t normally be in a prestigious place like the theatre (Unless you were white passing like her, but the movie is still trying to ignore that she’s only slightly darker than Zac Efron). She should be frightening about how people will treat her but trying to be brave because of how she wants to experience this world that is like a fantasy in her mind. She’s just emotionless as always. When she sees Phillip, she should be shocked and upset because he tricked her but also is willing to be seen in public with her among all of the people from his high class world. But she just gives a blank look. When she’s looking up at the staircase leading to the theatre, she should be having a lot of emotions welling up because of how she always wanted to go to the theatre, most likely since she was a child. Now it was finally happening and what does she do? Just gives a blank expression again after biting her lips. That doesn’t come off as a young woman that is finally going to have an experience she’s always dreamed of happening. It comes off as being indifferent, especially with her monotone line delivery of “I’ve always wanted to go to the theatre.” SHOW SOME EMOTION! Imagine how bad a Cinderella movie would be if that was Cinderella’s reaction to being at the palace.

When she and Phillip run into his parents, she should be doing more than just having a blank expression on her face. She should be showing some fear because of how it felt like nothing could go wrong, but then it does. She’s being referred to as “the help” and being seen with her is considered a bigger disgrace than being associated with Barnum, who was considered to be trash to begin with. She is also giving up on her dream of going to the theatre by just leaving and doesn’t show any emotion. All of this should be having her full of emotions that she’s embarrassed that she let break through. She should be having a few tears escape, a quivering lip, and her voice whimpering and cracking as she’s running away after having a childhood dream crushed. What does she do instead? Just casually leave with a blank look on her face. She doesn’t even come off as someone trying to leave before someone sees her cry. It comes off more as just being indifferent and the speed she’s running isn’t out of desperation to leave because she was hurt but more like a “Oh! I didn’t realize how late it was. I gotta go before I’m late for being early to curfew.” It ruins the moment. She can’t even run properly in a scene! How bad at acting do you have to be to mess up running?

I won’t go into the problems of her acting in Rewrite the Stars because I covered that pretty well in my review of the movie, so I’ll just provide a link to it.

My Review of The Greatest Showman

She may be able to get away with this when she’s in Spiderman and Euphoria, but that doesn’t work for every character. It shows that she is really a one trick pony when it comes to acting. She’s not versatile and doesn’t have a wide range. Her acting is just going around with a blank look on her face with a monotone delivery, even when it doesn’t work for the scene. Until she can prove she can act outside of the types of characters she plays in Spiderman and Euphoria (And even then I think she plays the deadpan character type very poorly), she still isn’t a good actress. Maybe she’ll be able to prove herself in her movie A White Lie. I want her to improve and I wanted to love her in Euphoria but she just felt more like she was going through the motions. Playing a deadpan character isn’t as easy as people think. You need to be able to have just the right amount of being emotionless and still deliver the dry wit with a bit of smugness and sass instead of just being bored. A deadpan character is a lot more complex a character to pull off than people think. You need more than just being emotionless, monotone, and breathing to pull it off. The body language matters, which Zendaya doesn’t try to add to her characters and is just her going through the motions instead of becoming the character. In Spiderman she comes off as a stoner rather than a Daria type character, which you’d think would work in Euphoria but she really doesn’t portray that. And her eyes don’t portray Michelle as snarky, smart, introverted, or skeptical but rather just either having her eyes look relaxed or squinting like the sun is in her eyes. She feels more stiff and wooden than is necessary for the character. The emotional scenes feel half-assed. The door scene made me cringe because her voice was more whiny than desperate and and her face when she was begging felt more like she was constipated or something. I actually kind of laughed at how insanely flat her performance was in that scene, despite people praising it.

Something that is critical with a deadpan character is that, while they do have to be limited in their facial expressions, they still need to have their eyes be able to portray something. For example, Daria Morgendorffer’s eyes always showed how annoyed she was with the stupidity of her surroundings and wanted nothing to do with it (I can relate) and Raven from Teen Titans had her eyes show how she has a snarky nature and can’t express her emotions like others because her powers are dangerously driven by emotions, as well as her having a bit of mystery behind her that we learn more about in season 4. And before you say that they are animated characters so it’s easier to have them appear like that, there are actresses that manage to do that as well. Lana Parrilla managed to portray that as The Evil Queen/season 1 Mayor Mills where her facial emotions were more reserved but she managed to show how menacing she was with the look of her eyes. She made you happy that looks couldn’t kill. There was also Danai Gurira’s performance as Michonne from The Walking Dead (A show that I am NOT a fan of AT ALL) where the character had a deadpan attitude but also managed to show how serious she is with her eyes and body language instead of just having a vacant look in her eyes and uninspired body language like Zendaya did in Euphoria.

Before you say she is playing a drug addict and that’s how they act, first of all, I’ve sadly had some drug addict family members and they still didn’t have a vacant look in their eyes like she did. Her eyes were just wide open and relaxed rather than in a daze from the drugs. Secondly, and I know I shouldn’t be comparing them, but Bella Thorne has played a drug addict in Perfect High and on the show Tales in the episode “XO Tour Lif3” where she managed to come off as a genuine addict that is in a daze but still comes off as human. You can see her struggles and emotional turmoil in her facial expressions, voice, and body language that make it more believable that her character felt that she needed to turn to drugs for comfort and escape from her issues. When her character is high or drunk, she is so convincing to the point that it is flawless. Zendaya’s performance in Euphoria is just so hallow and lifeless. It also really makes me sad that Zendaya got an Emmy win at her age when Bella, who has been busting her ass in the acting business MUCH longer than Zendaya (Who didn’t start acting seriously until Shake it Up) and has dreamed of winning Oscars and Emmys, despite people saying that she would never make it as an actress because of her dyslexia and has to work extra hard just to be able to read a damn script doesn’t have even one Emmy nomination (Let alone a win). Bella is the one who has been acting since she was six-years-old! She has even shown she can play the deadpan character better in her movies Amityville: The Awakening (Mediocre movie, though) and I Still See You than Zendaya ever did in Euphoria and the Spiderman movies.

Anyway, I gave Euphoria a chance and viewed it with an open-mind that REALLY wanted to like Zendaya’s performance but she fell flat and showed that acting isn’t her strong suit. If she gets better in the future, that’s great and I wish her all the luck in the world. But I’m tired of her getting praise that isn’t deserved or earned, especially when there are actresses that are far more deserving and have worked a lot longer and harder than her but still don’t get their recognition. She has a good singing voice, is decent at modeling, and her strong suit is dancing but she’s not phenomenal at any of these things. She doesn’t deserve to be called a Queen when she doesn’t have the talent that is required to earn that title. Maybe she’d be at her best if she was exclusively a talkshow host. People mainly love her for her personality and having her own talkshow would be able to make that aspect of her truly shine.

I have also learned, thanks to following the AWESOME @angelicdiamondbabys​ that Zendaya’s new role in a movie called Dune was something that is based in Middle Eastern culture. So not only is Zendaya contributing to gingerism by taking redhead roles (Gingerism is a thing and it even a problem with white people that are non-redheads, so look up gingerism and educate yourselves) and taking the role of a full-blooded black woman in The Greatest Showman, but NOW she is taking roles from Middle Eastern actresses? But of course people are sitting on this because it’s Zendaya and people fancast her as every brown character even if it’s not racially correct! I don’t know much about Dune or the situation, so I can’t really say anything about that. But still, this might show that Zendaya isn’t as nice and mature as she appears to be. However, I still can’t say much on this.

And before you say that I’m a white guy, so I can’t have an opinion on Zendaya or call me a racist, my new friend angelicadiamondbabys is a full-blooded black woman who also shares my views on Zendaya. So take a look at her page and be warned, she is brutally honest, which makes her awesome, so if you don’t have a thick skin, be warned lol.

This is just my opinion. Be respectful.

[johannstutt413]

(requested by calligomiles)

“Good morning, Scavenger!” Provence and Grape sat down across from the Zalak at the end of the table, the large wolf on guard even as they crunched several bones in their mouth. “Got a minute?”

“Sure.” She didn’t sound terribly happy about it.

The Lupo smiled. “Great! What about tomorrow night?”

“...Yeah?” Another one of Provence’s outings, perhaps? “Going somewhere?”

“Actually, I’m asking for a friend. I was hoping to introduce you two.”

Oh. Well, that made sense - they’d already had their DTR, and the Sniper was dating the Doctor. What was she planning, though? “You know how I feel about chitchat.”

“That’s why I want you two to hang out! You’re both so quiet and broody.” Provence dodged a sunflower seed flicked at her. “Sorry, but seriously. I think you two will understand each other.”

“...Fine. Where?” She unwrapped a granola bar as she popped a few more sunflower seeds in her mouth.

The Sniper cheered, pumping her fist as Grape yipped. “Hey, don’t talk with your mouth full~ We’ll meet at that dive bar you told me about.”

“Just the four of us?” Scavenger replied to the questioning look with a shrug. “You, your friend, me, and the Doctor?”

“Oh, gotcha. He’s busy tonight, but I’ll probably have Grape with me still. Today’s their walking day. Isn’t that right?” Another yip, but this time followed by a bark.

The mercenary followed the wolf’s gaze, spotting another Lupo fast approaching. “Red.”

“Eeeek! Where?!” As she spun around to look, the counter-Lupo sprinted for the table- only to get her coat pinned to the table by a crossbow bolt. “Eh?”

“Wow. Good shot.”

Provence looked at the Zalak who’d complimented her. “That wasn’t me!”

“I know.” She grabbed her trash, pocketing the rest of her snacks. “See you for dinner.”

“Oh. Well, bye! See you tonight!” With that, the Sniper hopped onto her wolf’s back, and the two rode out of the cafeteria.

From across the cafeteria, in her hunters’ blind of a corner, another Sniper was disassembling her crossbow. A close call; if Red had reached her target, tonight’s casual meeting might’ve accidentally turned into a full-blown date…

A few hours later, Scavenger showed up to her favorite hole-in-the-wall and found the corner circle-bench with the conspicuous pair of purple fluff balls at it; there, she found Provence and Grape, as expected...and an Elafia whom she’d never seen before. “Evening.”

“Evening.” Firewatch’s reply barely reached the Zalak’s ears as she sat next to her - after all, she couldn’t sit in Grape’s spot.

“I got here early, so there’s appetizers coming any time now. Anyway!” Provence rubbed her hands together. “Scavenger, this is Firewatch. She’s one of the sharpest sharpshooters in Rhodes Island.”

A light bulb clicked in the Zalak’s mind. “That was you earlier.”

“It was.” Her eyes were swiveling around the restaurant, seemingly on the lookout for someone or something.

“Really? Thanks for helping me out there - if she’d gotten into my tail, I wouldn’t have been able to make it-” Mid-sentence, her phone began to chirp. “Oh, that’s the Doctor! I’ll be right back!” Grape followed the Lupo as she dashed outside.

The remaining pair didn’t say a word for a few pin-drop quiet moments, glancing at each other occasionally and locking eyes more than once. Eventually, a waitress arrived with a plate of appetizers and a notepad. “While I’m here, can I get you any drinks this evening?”

“Water,” Firewatch replied, giving their server a once-over before resuming her visual patrol.

“Still on the job?” Scavenger shrugged. “Bottle of crystal oat, warm.”

The server wrote “one water, one Scavenger Special” before flashing them a smile. “I’ll be right back with those.”

“That makes two of you,” the Zalak muttered, helping herself to some fried pickles.

“...She recognized you.” The Elafia noted as she took some appetizers for herself. “Provence said you come here often.”

She frowned. “She did, huh? Yeah, I do.”

“Does it help?”

“Help with that?” The frown turned into a glare, not at Firewatch but the seat across from them. “Did she tell you that, too?”

The Sniper shook her head. “She didn’t need to.”

“Hmmph. She said we’d understand each other. Know what she meant by that?” Scavenger had to wonder just how much this girl could actually see.

“Loss.” The word hung in the air, suspending time for a moment. “How many?”

The Zalak sighed. She should’ve ordered something stronger. “One. You?”

“Thirty-seven.” Each and every face passed across her mind’s eye, as they always did.

“A lot more, then.” The mercenary slid the tray away from her, further into the center of the table. “You win the contest.”

Firewatch was no longer looking around the restaurant; she’d found her target. “What was her name?”

“...Lyla.”

“Mmm.” The waitress from before chose that moment to bring them their drinks. “Thank you. One crystal oat, please.”

She blinked. “Sure thing. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” both replied, having resumed looking at each other.

“Alright, then.” Another few notes. “I’ll be back.”

Scavenger popped the top on her bottle with the steak knife they’d provided for anything but that. “Change your mind? No one else drinks this stuff.”

“I used to.” This time, the waitress came back almost immediately, and with a bottle opener.

“Gotcha.” She knew she wasn’t lying, but it was a weird coincidence. “Well, to living for the dead.”

The Elafia clinked her bottle with the Zalak’s. “To living for the dead.”

“Sorry about that!” A few minutes later, a flustered Provence returned with her wolf. “Oh, Firewatch, I didn’t know you drink.”

“Rarely,” she replied with a hiccup.

The mercenary smirked. “That’d be why, I’m guessing.”

“The bubbles *hic* always do this.” Firewatch shook her head. “Soda *hic* does the same thing.”

“That’s kinda cute, honestly,” the Lupo observed, glancing at the Zalak as she did.

Scavenger raised an eyebrow at her in return. “What?”

“Oh, nothing.” She turned to the Elafia, who was also giving her a look. “What?”

“Your *hic* shirt’s backwards.”

Provence looked down, eyes widening. “It is? The lights were on, how di- no it isn’t.”

“...Heh.” The avenger’s all-too brief chuckle was interrupted by another hiccup. “I knew it.”

“I-it was an emergency.” The Lupo looked over to Scavenger for backup.

All she got was another, longer chuckle. “He’s busy, huh?”

“L-look, it’s not like that, really!” The Zalak started laughing louder. “What’s so funny?”

“You’re so easy to tease *hic*,” Firewatch replied before finishing her bottle.

The mercenary shook her head, steadily calming down. “She really is. Happy with your matchmaking mission?”

“I should’ve stayed at his office.” That set the Elafia off, which caused Scavenger to start laughing again. “Was I right, at least?”

“Maybe,” she managed through her snickering as the avenger quietly dissolved in her corner.

The other Sniper leaned against Grape. “Good. Have you guys eaten yet? I’m starving.”

“Now that you mention it.” The Zalak glanced around, looking for their waitress. “Where is she, anyway?”

“Gossiping with the *hic* cook. Oh, it’s been a- *hic* -while.” Firewatch took a long drink of water to reset herself.

Scavenger waved her empty bottle around. “Yeah, same here. What was that about us being ‘mopey’ earlier, Prov?”

“I probably just missed it.” She shook her head. “This is a lot nicer, though. Oh, I hope she gets here soon.”

“She’s on her way. *yawn*” The Elafia blinked slowly; she’d had plenty to eat already.

The Lupo cocked her head. “Early shift today?”

“Just full.” The avenger looked at the Zalak’ carefully for a moment. “Scavenger?”

“Sure.” She slid closer so Firewatch could set her head on her shoulder.

Provence beamed. “Aww~”

“Well, if there were any doubts before.” The mercenary yawned, too. “Ah, damnit...I should probably call it a night. Long shift tomorrow.”

“Me, too,” the Sniper on her shoulder agreed, sliding an arm around hers.

Scavenger blushed. “I can take you home, I guess.”

“Thanks.” She opened her steadily-closing eyes to look at the Lupo across from her. “You, too.”

“Happy to help! I’ll cover the bill, you two go on ahead.”

The Zalak nodded, carefully helping Firewatch to her feet. “Thanks. See you around.”

“Yep, sure thing!” As the pair left the bar, Provence sighed. “Good - I didn’t want to order something here before my real date.”

The mercenary knew her way around the Island well enough to not need to ask where her date’s room was, and fortunately for them, it wasn’t far enough away to need a cart. Approaching the door, Scavenger nudged the dozing doe who’d been leaning against her the entire time. “We’re here.”

“Mmhmm...” She slipped her keycard over the lock but didn’t push the door open herself.

“You really are tired, aren’t you?” The Zalak sighed, leading her across the threshold. “Huh. Nice place - plenty of corners. Where’s your room?”

Firewatch waved in a direction. “Over there.”

“Cool. You um...you mind if I stay the night? Your place is closer to where I need to be in the morning.”

“Go ahead.” The Elafia pulled her into her bedroom with her but let go to fall into bed. “Goodnight.”

Scavenger took a moment to evaluate her situation before asking, “You want me on the couch or-”

“Mmm.” She slapped the bed.

“Good.” The Zalak slipped off her shoes before collapsing onto the mattress as well. “Night.”

The avenger said nothing as she found the mercenary’s hand before falling asleep.

[razorblade180]

Twin Snowflakes 26: Preparation

[part 1 of 2]

TSF pt25 here! <-

“THANK YOU, PEOPLE OF MANTLE!” Summer yelled, shredding each note of her personal favorite songs. One after another she played to her heart's fill. Each song was more aggressive and brimming with vigor than the last. Summer would’ve played till dawn if she had her way but neither her body or promise to her brother would allow that. It wasn’t time to leave yet but she needed a break.

Summer begrudgingly got herself to get off the stage to let others perform. Their music wasn’t terrible by any means but the other musicians could easily stand to have more practice. A rave audience isn’t hard to please however, so the crowd ate up the talent all the same. A little insulting to her own performance but eh, this wasn’t an actual contest. Summer was happy enough blowing off steam and listening to the beats from behind the stage. Not even she could deny the beats and tempo. Her hips couldn’t help but sway!

From the corner of her eye she could make out a familiar figure keeping an eye on her. “Did Nick tell you to keep an eye on me, Eliza?”

“Not really.” She walked over and poured herself a cup of water. “I was training in the area.”

“Are you saying he had nothing to do with you being here?”

“Oh no, that would be a lie. You know Nick, always negotiating. He really knows how to persuade a person. I wouldn’t be surprised if he could sell a heater to someone living in Vacou. Anyways, he didn’t ask me to stalk you or anything like that. He knew where I’d be and told me if I could swing by for a spell. No harm in that.”

Summer smiled. “Funny. That sounded like you were defending him. Don’t want me getting upset with my own brother?”

“Shut up. It would be a pain if I caused unnecessary controversy in a household. Need I remind you that you both have duties to the school that require your full attention? Frankly I’m glad I arrived. I don’t go to your concerts so my opinion of your performance skills was limited.” Eliza sipped her water, giving Summer’s attire and overall attitude a once over. “Where’s all this when you're getting harassed in the halls?”

“That’s...school is different.”

“Pfft, yeah okay.”

“It is!” Summer said, defensively crossing her arms.

Eliza watched the girl's face soften into the meek and reserved Summer she was used to. To think that’s all it took to shut her down. “I swear you and your brother don’t have a consistent bone in your body. Whatever the case, I don’t really care much as long as you bring your best effort to rehearsal and the live performance.”

Summer squinted. “Not the actual tournament?”

“Hey I don’t participate in the duos. You can bomb that for all I care. But you know, Nick is counting on you to pull your weight. Also it would be pretty annoying if you lost to Max and his asshole know-it-all, Darren. Gods know he’d talk about it until graduation.”

“Was the fight that happened in the school bad?”

Eliza shrugged, “Can’t say. Wasn’t there. He’s always been a thorn to me though so I don’t doubt he made things ugly. He was very rude to Veronica in the principal’s office as well. An act I find inexcusable.”

Summer couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Look I know you admire her and all that jazz, but I’d bet she didn’t help the situation.”

“My views on her have nothing to do with it!” Eliza huffed. “I would think you off people would be sympathetic to a person like her.”

Summer leaned against a wall. “Call me jaded, but Veronica has a habit of bringing out the worst in people.”

Eliza frowned. “You know her better than I. Tell me, is she the type to lie about being harassed?”

Summer didn’t have to think long, especially after learning more about her in the forest. Then there was Veronica’s sketch journal. Summer still couldn’t make sense of all the scratched out pages. On top of that, Blake’s request made Summer even more uncertain. “No. Veronica’s a piece of work, but she isn’t a liar. She might actually be too honest if you asked me. I’ve never had to deal with Darren personally but Nick’s not a fan by any means.” Summer bit her bottom lip. She couldn’t believe it, did she just defend Veronica’s qualities!? It was only fair. Veronica did almost end up a frozen husk.

“Well it’s good to know we can all agree on at least one thing without fail. So not to rush you but how long are you planning on staying in a place like this?” Eliza asked, watching all the party animals.

“Haha, not your type of crowd?”

“The crowd is fine. I can handle a little noise and rowdiness, but it is technically a school night. I- ah! Summer!?” The girl had taken Eliza by the hand and started pulling her to the dance floor.

“If you keep bringing up assignments 24/7 then all you’re gonna look like is a stick in the mud. Live a little. School sucks!”

“School is important!” Eliza protested.

Summer grabbed Eliza’s other hand and started making them sway side to side, back and forth. The blood rushing to Eliza’s cheeks made Summer giggle. “Awww you know you dig it. I’ll make a deal. Cut loose with me for a few songs and I’ll gladly let you dance me right out the front door. Show me that colorguard rhythm!”

Eliza watched the petite girl actively laugh without reservation. Summer jokingly shimmied towards her and swayed her hips, getting lost in the music. Just how much did this girl go out to rave? She looked like she belonged here! The beat got more intense by the moment with no sign of stopping. With her pride in check, Eliza began to sway steadily, getting into the music.

Summer’s eyes lit up. “Aye!”

“Two songs and then we’re out of here.”

“Works for me! Show me what ya got!” Summer turned up the heat by dragging Eliza deeper into the chaos. She might not be as persuasive as Nick, but Eliza quickly found out Summer was definitely more pushy. Forget the tournament. Eliza was beginning to think they’ll beat her at everything!

xxxxx

“This is crazy. How did I not know about this!?” Nick said, walking down the rainy sidewalk.

Veronica smirked as she held Nick’s hand, allowing rain to pass right through them. “Why would you? I barely have any reason to use my semblance; let alone in the more complex ways.”

“You don’t use it when making clothes?”

“Haha, I’m not entirely sure how it would help. Unless I wanna get out of my clothes and into something new in an instant. Not a real trick to show others. Unless…” she blushed at her lewd teasing, refusing to finish the punchline. “Never mind.”

“Okay?” He had a feeling he knew where that was going but chose not to pull that grenade pin. “Speaking of clothes, that brings up a question. Why aren’t our clothes falling off now?”

“Control. Anything I touch can phase like me. My clothes are touching me, so are you. I can keep it strictly to myself though with control and timing. I can also start it and end it on any spot on my body; which is why we aren’t falling through the street.”

“That sounds hard.”

“Little bit. Really flexing my semblance like a muscle right now. Still, I’ve done harder, like not breaking surface tension.”

Nick did a double take. Did he hear that right? “Surface tension? Like...for water?”

Veronica nodded. “Yeah that’s the one. Well I’m not actually walking on water. It’s more of me beginning to fall through the water with my semblance, and shutting it off quick enough to push me back up just above the surface. Took a lot of practice but I got it most of the time. Waves suck.”

“Don’t you burn through your aura quickly?”

“Well it’s like flicking a switch on and off. Also I’m quick about it; not to mention not fighting anything in the water. I’m bound to fuck up them.”

“Still sounds like an extremely large amount of work and multitasking. You got real talent. I’d get a headache.”

“Says the king of multitasking.” Veronica chuckled, “It’s less thinking and more of reaction; knowing how to feel the shifts to the things connecting you.”

Her explanation was interesting. Veronica had an understanding of her semblance to a complex level though she didn’t fight. And here was Nick, struggling with a candle exercise for a semblance that didn’t interact with physics or molecules. “A reaction huh? Maybe I should try that more often? It might help with-”

“Valerie.”

“What? No my-” His hand was squeezed a little before being brought up to point towards the Schnee gate. Nick’s eyes went wide. Valerie stood by it with her mother’s car, staring just as surprised. “Oh…” Nick said.

The three stood quietly, not prepared in the slightest. Valerie was the most shocked. She was prepared for an awkward conversation with Nick by the door. Not catching him outside in a suit; next to Veronica. Nora, who was in the car, wanted to take initiative but found her lips tucking themselves in.

“Oh boy. Maybe convincing Val to see him was a bad move on my part.” She thought. Ren was gonna have a field day whenever Nora got back home.

Done with the shock, Veronica finally spoke. “Umm I can give you two a minute, if you need it?” All the events that happened tonight made her feel very pleased. Veronica did not want to taint those moments and knew it would be for the best to remove herself from this before she said anything...emotional. She turned to Nick and smiled awkwardly. “I’ll see you inside?”

Nick could only blink while he thought about it. Veronica was a bit quicker to the draw though. “No, no, it’s...clearly you two are in the middle of something. I was just leaving anyways” Val said, a hint of irritation and even a bit of sarcasm crept into her voice. It might not have been that big of a deal but for some reason it made Nick tense up.

“This is only happening because of you.” He said instinctively, catching everyone off guard. “I don’t see how you can be upset about a thing you caused. I did invite you originally.”

“Don’t see how that has to do with anything.” Valerie lied, clearly offended. “You can do what you want.I only came here to-”

“It’s always your terms.” He interjected, grumbling a bit. “You tell me you want space and we’ll see each other at the tournament, but then show when you feel like talking. If I did that you’d be pissed.”

“Hey! I came here to try and smooth things over.”

“Yeah well maybe I don’t want things smoothed over right now? I...I have nothing to say to you right now. We’ll talk at the tournament.”

Valerie let out a subtle gasp. Her brows furrowed and she bit down on her lip harder than she meant to. “Forget it. If you wanna be made then be made. Tournament it is.” Valerie didn’t waste another breath, getting back into the car so it can drive off.”

Veronica was in disbelief. Did that really just happen? In now way did she think the conversation was going to be good, but she at least thought there was going to be one. She might’ve thought this best if it wasn’t for Nick visibly sulking next to her as he started walking her up to the manor. The solemn look on his face did nothing but make her feel bad. Not to mention a little guilty.

“Hey...I know this is a dumb question but are you okay? If I influenced that in any way during dinner, that wasn’t really...what I mean is...”

“I know, and don’t worry. That wasn’t me being caught up in my emotions. I just really want to think about all of this for at least a couple days. Besides, I made a deal with Eliza. I might not keep it if Valerie tries patching things up.”

“You’re plotting on her? That’s...wow. Now I know for sure that you’re pissed.”

Nick rubber the back of neck. “For once I think I’ll get greedy, act the way I want. Does that make sense?”

“Make sense? It’s my language. Fair warning, your best quality is that heart of yours.” She poked his chest. “Keep it safe, or I’ll be the one getting greedy by knocking the optimism back into ya.”

“Oh is that right? Haha, maybe try praying to me first, then I really know you must mean business!” He teases.

Veronica gave a playful shove. “Like I’d know how to start one? I think I’ll stick with the tough love approach.”

“Tough love huh?” Nick opened the front door. His eyes never left the girl as she walked in, seemingly content. Veronica eventually looked back at him and gave a head tilt.

She blinked, “What?”

“Nothing.” He chuckled. Nick was starting to think that just maybe, he understood Veronica’s choices and beliefs a little more than he used to. If he learned anything from tonight it was just how differently they saw the world around them. “Well I guess this is the end of our date. Didn’t go as planned but I’ll admit it, I really liked spending alone time with you.” He said, rubbing the back of his head.

Veronica couldn’t stop herself from letting out an anxious chuckle.“Hehehe, what’s with the sweet talk all of a sudden? Trying to butter me up?”

“No, just being honest with myself. A date should end as well as possible.” Nick stepped towards Veronica and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. Eager to not let this moment linger, Nick swiftly left for Summer’s room to see if she was back. Without thinking about it tonight, Nick had left two girls red and speechless. One of them standing in the main hall with a smile growing wide; while the other watched the rain fall during a quiet ride home, frustrated and jaw clenched.

Nora took care to drive slowly. Getting home quickly would only mean Valerie would march to her room. Nora let out a sigh. “Whether it’s me or your father, one of us is gonna make you talk about this. So-”

“What’s there to talk about? I’m upset and he’s upset, because we want different things. So we’re taking a break. Simple as that.” Valerie leaned against the cold glass.

“And what is it exactly that you want?” Nora asked. She was given no answer. Not that she was expecting one. “I love you, but if you don’t know the answer yourself then how can you expect Nick to not upset you? Life is like any sport you play. Gotta know the rules if you wanna do well. Only way to figure that out is knowing yourself.”

“I know myself pretty well.” Valerie huffed.

“Really?” Nora dragged out. “So tell me, do you like Nick, romantically?”

“No.” She said instinctively.

If Val could see Nora’s face then she would’ve been upset that she was rolling her eyes, not believing her daughter. “Okay, but just so you know, taking a break is not what most friends say about another.”

Valerie’s eyes widened. She turned to her mother to see her focused on the road like she hadn’t said a word. Val went back to looking at the window. “Good to know.” Valerie controlled the urge to huff. Talking to Ren might’ve been less painful.

xxxx

Nick walked into Summer’s room to find it sisterless and a little cold. “Guess she’s not home yet.” He closed the door behind him as he went further in. Nick made sure to keep the light off but turned on the heater. A cold room was the last thing this night needed. His chill hadn’t kicked in all this time so Nick had no real reason to worry about Shiva, yet his nerves would feel better actually seeing Summer come home safely. Pulling up a chair to sit in may have been a bit much but he did it anyway. Overbearing or not, Shiva would never be a subject he’d take lightly. Not like he had in the past when he was younger, naive of the danger that thing had. He could his body ache at the thought of it. Pain fades and the body heals, but it also remembers. Not like he needed a reminder. Not when the memories rear their ugliness often in his dreams.

A scroll rang loudly, bringing Nick out of the dark thoughts. He reached in his pocket to see it was in fact Summer who was calling.He wasted no time answering. “Where are you? I thought you’d be back by now?”

“That didn’t sound like hello.” Summer grumbled. “Relax, I'm close by. I actually called to ask for a favor. You’re home right?”

“Yes?”

“Cool. Can you open my window?

Nick walked over to her window and opened it. In the distance he could spot his sister and Eliza outside the gate from the right side. “Done. What-”

“How’d you do that so fast? Were you already in my room!? You aren’t snooping are you!?” She yelled.

“Quiet before you get caught. No, I wasn’t snooping. Pretty sure whatever secrets this room holds is one that would scar me. Though I’m curious about your journal, wherever you hid this time. Perhap under your nightstand?”

“Do you really want to rummage around a young woman's nightstand?” Summer could hear her brother let out an overtop gagging noise. “Grow up.”

“Say it to my face. You better hurry before I decide to close this and watch you hit the glass like a pigeon.”

“Fine, ya baby.” Summer hung up. “Thanks for walking me home, as well as helping me stay dry.” She looked up to see the small dome of water floating over her from Eliza’s magic.

“Exactly what was the plan if I had said no or not shown up at all?”

“Glyphs aren’t just for platforming and dust ya know? Not that it matters. I knew I’d see you tonight.”

Eliza scoffed, “Tah! That confident in your predictions about your brother?”

“Well yes, but that’s not it. It’s not a secret you practice at the pier. It’s also terrible luck on your part you almost shot a captain with a bolt of lightning. One time.”

“W-What!? B-but how would-”

“Is it a Marigold thing to be attracted to my family like a magnet? That captain is my cousin. He says your aim could use work. Bye!” Summer made glyphs to trampoline over the gate and platform through the air and through her window.”

Eliza couldn’t believe it. Why was this her life!? It had to be a joke. Atlas or Mantle, you’re bound to be in Schnee territory. It would’ve been fine if she wasn’t practicing moves to fight one! Now she needed a new training spot. Who knows what they might now. “Damnit, now Nick’s offer is even more to my best interest!”

“Sup bro. How was your date?” The rock n’ roll twin kicked off her shoes and took the black wig off before falling backwards onto her bed.

“Well Valerie was at the front awhile ago.”

Summer sat up. “Okay, that’s not what I expected. Did I miss a fight? No wait, I’m pretty sure I’d hear Veronica scream bloody murder because there’s no way her dress would stay flaw-” her rambling was cut short when Nick suddenly sat beside her and fell on her lap. “Woah. Hey, are you still sick!?”

“No, just tired. The past week has been a little...draining. To be honest I don’t think I even have the energy to shower right now.”

“Well you probably smell better than me right now so I’m not complaining.”

“How was the rave?”

“Fun. Got Eliza to dance a little. The crowd worshipped my performance.” She chuckled.

“What did you sing?”

“Nothing special. A few Linkin Park songs; an experimental original. Oscar thought it would be a good idea to take a few of my journal entries and vent it out through music.”

“Hmm, anything you’ll share to your actual fan base, or me?”

Summer looked at her ceiling to let out a composed sigh. “I don’t think I’m quite ready, or the song for that matter. It and myself are...a work in progress. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just know your fans think you can’t do wrong and there’s no world where I won’t support you. Family and all that.”

“Love you too.” Summer patted his head. “Sorry if I’ve been causing you trouble. Well, more than usual. Tomorrow is a new day.”

“That’s the spirit. Push yourself but not too hard. That’s my territory. Speaking of which, I’ve been racking my brain with ideas. You can talk to Shiva in that headspace whenever you like right?” He felt her hand stop. Nick looked up to see Summer look apprehensive.

“I can...but it’s not a thing I look to do. Plus tonight has been good. I really don’t want that to-”

“Summer, do you trust me?”

Nick’s words were calm and real. Summer didn’t know what he had in mind. It wasn’t like Nick to invite danger. Her eyes looked to the floor to the orange glow of her heater. Like usual it appeared that her brother had already taken strides for her and everyone’s sake. Just how far would he go, ever making herself feel like she’s at a stand still? Maybe tomorrow could start today. Just a little bit.

“What’s this idea of yours?” She said cautiously.

“Nothing too crazy. You’re just gonna take a page out of Veronica’s playbook.”

xxxxx

You would think a person would know what goes on in their head. Unfortunately, that’s hardly ever the case. Summer never got a full understanding of what went on upstairs in her mind. Then again that would only make sense. She was in therapy after all. Though no amount of emotional talking could explain why her headspace imagery was inconsistent at times. A void of nothingness, her own room, those were the usual shapes that took place. However, this time she found herself back at the frozen lake. Going back and triggering an episode must’ve left a lasting impression. At least her trauma brought variety. The only separation from the real place was the ice ceiling and a distinct lack of cold nipping at her skin. Her psyche though, it was definitely feeling something.

She began walking through the white hell of her own making until she found her target, Shiva. The being was skating across the lake like how Summer once did. “Shiva.” Summer called out.

The woman of ice and snow looked over, surprised. She stopped right in the middle of the lake. “Well, well, well, come to properly thank me? You’d be in a grimm’s stomach by now if it wasn’t for me. You and that idiot girl. Tell me, is she in pain from our encounter?”

“I’m not here to thank you or chitchat.” Summer bluntly stated. “This is an in and out thing.”

“I’ll take that as a no then? Pity. I wouldn’t mind seeing her cry and despair. I bet her tears are uglier than yours. Though I'll say that this look you have going on isn’t gross. Honestly it helps to see you better in this place. You’re always so pale when you’re talking to me. Afraid I might hurt you?” A smirk spread across her face. “Oh I do hate you so.”

“Feeling is mutual. I came here to tell you that from this point on things are gonna change.”

“Pfft, heard that before. You’re all talk.”

“Am I?” Summer reached her hand out. Right before her eyes, the shape of a shovel formed. Hiding her surprise, she focused on Shiva’s own shock. “My mind, my rules. If I can subconsciously make this hell then I can shape it to an extent. Summer tossed the shovel at Shiva for her to catch. “Keep that safe for me.” Summer’s body began to slowly fade from this space.

“And what exactly is this for?”

“Your grave. Feel free to dig it yourself.” Her final words before disappearing completely while witnessing a smug smirk vanish before her eyes. Right as she faded, Summer could hear one last remark.

“We’ll see who buries who.”

Summer opened her eyes to find herself back in her room. Good, she hadn’t moved an inch. “Well I’ve thoroughly pissed her off, but it actually felt good to be the one harassing her. Thank Ni- huh?” Summer failed to realize she’s been talking to herself. Nick was fast asleep already! “Unbelievable. What if I would’ve messed up?”

“Zzzzzz.”

“Quite the convincing answer.” Summer returned to rubbing his head. He felt a little warm but nothing serious. Taking breaks needed to be at the top of his list from now on. Only way that would happen is if things weren’t hectic. It was time to step up. “I’ll do right by you. I promise. Just...give me a little more time.”

Her eyes became heavy. It appears the day’s events weighed on her more than she realized. Both twins fell into slumber there for the entire night, finally getting some rest.

[freedom-shamrock]

Speaking on My Behalf

Also over on AO3

@saijspellhart allowed me to take this delightful idea and run with it, so here we are.  Go team!

Chapter One

"All right," Marinette said, handing Adrien the steaming mug. "One Cheng family, top secret laryngitis treatment. Careful, it's hot." She could smell the fresh lemon juice as it wafted in her face.

Adrien snorted ruefully, grasping the mug carefully before slumping back into the couch.

"He says, thank you," Plagg offered helpfully from his place sprawled in his holder's ultra messy bed head.

Adrien smiled and nodded in agreement.

"I'm just sorry I can't do more to help you," Marinette said, feeling bad. This was his first real illness since they'd decided it made more sense for Chat Noir and Ladybug to share an apartment. It would limit the risk of anyone else figuring out their identities the way they had.  The miraculous were excellent for preventing colds and illness, but apparently they didn't really impact allergies. The warm spring had been brutal on her partner and close friend. Tikki would point out that he was also Marinette's first and only love (or strongly imply it in her look and point it out once they were alone together), but she was asleep in her nest in Marinette's room.

Adrien shook his head and waved one hand as if to push her worry away.

"There's only so much even you can do, Buggy," Plagg offered. "He gets that."

Adrien vigorously nodded his agreement with his kwami.

"And to be fully honest," the black cat of destruction continued, "he wouldn't have gotten half this kind of treatment back at the mansion." His face squished up in a way that Marinette had come to learn was disgust. "His schedule would've been cleared, partly anyway, and he'd be abandoned in that compensation-chamber-of-shitty-parenting that his father called a bedroom."

Adrien frowned, looking petulant while he made indignant shushing noises at his kwami.

Marinette moved closer, scooping up the book and laptop from the ottoman near the couch, so she could take a seat there. She'd always felt Gabriel's cold nature ran into neglectful, if not full-on abusive, territory, but Adrien was quick to change the subject when things got too close to discussing his family life. "Nathalie doesn't have much of a bedside manner, huh?"

Adrien rolled his eyes. It was amazing just what he could express without his voice, and it was no wonder he was loving the acting classes he'd snuck into his schedule.

"Well you don't live there anymore, and we Dupain-Cheng folk do not believe in allowing those who are ill or uncomfortable suffer alone." She reached out to run her fingertips over his cheek, pleased when he closed his eyes and hummed happily. "I'll be checking on you regularly, and I won't be any farther away than the other room, so just send Plagg if you need anything, okay?"

His gorgeous green eyes fluttered open and he gazed softly at her.

"Yeah, yeah," Plagg agreed, his voice a jarring break in the gentle moment. "I'll come get you if he needs anything."

She'd brought work home from the La Fleur Fashions, the design house she'd joined before she even finished school. It was a small and highly exclusive house focused on women's evening wear, and while that was a bit limiting for her tastes, it paid well, and she enjoyed what she was doing. She'd made sure her contract allowed her to create her own  designs so long as they weren't competing for the same market, for her online boutique. Lucky Bug provided mostly one-of-a kind or commission pieces, including daywear and menswear. "Are you sure you don't want me to bring my work in here?" she asked for what had to be the fifth time.

Adrien's forehead scrunched up as he let out a huff.

"He would like to remind you that he's spent most of his twenty-three years coping on his own when he's ill," Plagg offered.

Adrien's eyes shot up as if he could see his kwami through his skull.

"He'll just feel guilty if you come out here," Plagg added. "No one has the whole guilt thing down like my kitten."

"Don't I know it," Marinette muttered, letting out a sigh and ignoring Adrien's indignant expression. "I promise, I'm happy to be here if it gives you any comfort, but I'm also not going to push. I definitely don't want you to feel more guilty about things that are basic human needs." That had been the first thing they'd had a serious talk about after moving in together.  He was constantly apologizing and trying to avoid being a nuisance.  "You are my best friend in the whole world," she insisted, brushing her thumb down his cheek.

"Ooooh," Plagg purred. "Better than Alya?"

"No contest," she replied, delighted by his response.

He closed his eyes and melted against her hand.

"I am always here for you," she promised. More than anything else in the world, he needed people who cared for him unconditionally, people who wouldn't turn their backs on him and leave him to languish in loneliness.

⁂

Adrien snapped his laptop closed. He was bored out of his mind and while he should have been happy to binge on Netflix, he was stupidly restless. The bright spots in his day had all involved Marinette, dear sweet Marinette, doting on him. He'd woken with a terrible sore throat from his allergies. He'd been able to easily identify it by the distinct characteristic that it felt like he'd tried to swallow a cactus (which he'd actually done once as Chat Noir, and would not recommend). His room mate, super partner, and all around best friend had been more kind to him in the first ten minutes than his father and Nathalie had been, combined, for all his sick days ever. His throat already felt better, but his voice would be gone for at least the rest of the day, but probably longer.

He clicked his tongue against his teeth and gently poked at Plagg, hoping to go for a run.

"No," Plagg grumbled. "We are not going out as Chat Noir today unless there's an akuma." His words were accompanied by tiny feet stomping on Adrien's head. "The Guardian wants you to rest."

Adrien's groan came out as more of a whine thanks to his irritated vocal cords.

"I get that you're fidgety, Kid," Plagg sounded a touch more compassionate. "But she's the boss, and she's right."

Adrien pouted. It was incredibly unfair that his kwami was so affectionate toward Marinette, yielding to her requests with no need of bribery. His frustration was disrupted by a delighted squeal from Marinette's room.

"Woo hoo!" She sounded giddy, and like she was trying to keep her enthusiasm toned down.

Adrien grinned. She was probably doing that full body wiggle that she did when she was super happy and excited. He opened his mouth to call to her, then remembered he couldn't.

"What are you celebrating in there, Pigtails?" Plagg called. He had almost as many nicknames for Marinette as Adrien did.

"This new dress is so awesome," Marinette replied. "I love it when I nail it on one of these. Monique is gonna love this one."

Adrien snorted. Monique loved pretty much all of Marinette's designs. It hadn't escaped his notice that the head designer and founder of La Fleur was asking more and more of her junior employee. She was clearly coming to Marinette when the stakes were highest, though being the humble person she was, Marinette hadn't noticed this herself.

Adrien waved his hand above his head, frantically trying to get Plagg's attention. He wanted to see that dress. He loved it when Marinette gave him his own private fashion shows. They were his own guilty pleasure, and admittedly featured strongly in his daydreams.

"Yeah, yeah," Plagg muttered. "Hold your horses, Kid." He raised his voice to reach Marinette. "We get to see it, right?"

Marinette's head popped out from the tiny hall toward her bedroom. "You really want to see it?"

She looked so happy, and Adrien felt blessed having her bright eyes so intensely focused on him. He vigorously nodded, cupping his hands together in silent plea.

"It would be rude to leave us hanging," Plagg added.

She disappeared with a giggle. "Okay.  Just a minute."

Adrien settled back into the couch, grinning like an idiot and vigorously rubbing his forearms to shed some of his excess energy. A new evening dress. He wondered if it would be cute or elegant, or something else entirely. Since they'd been living together he'd seen her create the gamut of evening dresses, from sweet things for teen starlets, to flirty numbers, to luxurious and sophisticated pieces sought by A-listers. And what color might it be? She'd done everything, though she preferred not to go with black unless it had accents because she felt there tended to be too much weight on basic black. The people wearing her works of art were guaranteed to stand out.

He tried not to pay attention to the sounds of zippers and the swishing of fabric. He was a model for goodness' sake. He could handle having a gorgeous woman change nearby without blowing a gasket.

"These shoes aren't quite right," Marinette cautioned, breaking him out of his little spiral.

"Yeah, yeah," Plagg replied. "It's all about the dress. We got it, Princess."

Adrien couldn't hold back the hiss when his kwami dared use his personal nickname for her.

Plagg merely snickered as he floated off Adrien's hair to land on the back of the couch.

Adrien scowled and batted Plagg off his perch. His death glare seemed to have no effect on the cackling little beast. He felt himself gathering for a pounce when the sound of heels on the wood floor announced Marinette's impending arrival. Freezing, he curled his lip one last time in warning before slowly and intentionally easing himself back into his reclined position.

Marinette sauntered into the room, treating it as her own personal runway. Sashay, sashay. Pause and pose. Quarter turn, pose. He could practically hear the drill he'd walked her through when he'd taught her runway basics. She may not have had real training, because his tutoring had hardly been anything, but she totally killed it, and Adrien was pretty sure his soul left his body the moment he got a good look at her.

The dress was a stunning sleeveless number in a magenta to midnight blue ombre with an overlay of tulle to give the fabric depth and movement without too much weight. The neckline dropped into a gorgeous V ending at her sternum. The skirting had a slit at the front that crept high enough to flash pretty much all over her amazingly toned leg.

She moved to her final pose, directly in front of him, a sultry little smirk on her lips. It was a good thing he was already sitting down, because the wink she threw him would have definitely killed him. She was so amazingly beautiful and talented. Even if his voice had been working, he would have had no words for her now.

After a moment, she relaxed her pose, giggling as she looked down at the dress. "I have to say, this is one of my best."

Adrien nodded vigorously in agreement..

She let out a happy sigh. "What do you think?"

Adrien opened his mouth for a moment, but found himself shutting it again with a little head shake. He still didn't have words, even ones he could silently mouth to her.

"NettieBug," Plagg said smoothly, darting up to float in front of her. "I can answer honestly for the Kid here when I tell you that you're hot as fuck."

⁂

I suspect this will need one more chapter to be truly satisfying.

Apologies for being so absent. I'm still herding kids and managing the household while we are all safe at home for a few more weeks (I can not wait for school to end!). I'm trying to fit in writing where I can, but often don't have the energy.

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