#anyways i forgot i even had this stuff but my makeup started breaking up recently so i figured id give this another spin

[stabbingandorbeingstabbed]

that grippy elf makeup primer is nuts i look like pat mcgrath hit me with the maison margiela fw 24 beam. i look like a krispy kreme donut that made a wish on a star to become human

[soysaucevictim]

“aching, shaking, breaking (like humans do)”

Summary: Remus thinks Hypnos has abandoned him for good (metaphorically speaking), Patton is there to help. (Sanders Sides, Gym Rat AU. One-shot. Ao3 link.)

Genres: Slice of Life, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic

Characters: Patton and Remus centric. Logan, Virgil, and Roman mentioned.

Relationships: Intruality (platonic), Logicality (platonic), Background Intrulogical (platonic/ambiguous), Background Dukexiety (romantic/QPP), Background Moxiety (paternal/platonic)

Warnings: Remus angst, extreme insomnia, (unintentional) self-injury, medications, mental health issues, grim imagery, Remus Has Intrusive Thoughts, Remus Is A Mess, Patton Is A Good Friend, Interfaith Friendships, Implied (Extended) Family Problems

-

Patton was pedaling on one of the exercise bikes, which was one of his favorite activities to do at the gym. Relatively low impact and he usually took a “something is better than nothing” approach to his routines nowadays. Just appreciating the people watching and socializing with his workout famILY.

That was odd.

Remus hadn’t been to the gym for the whole week. Even when the kiddo overdid it – usually he’s not out of commission this long for it. Unless-

Something hit him in the gut when he realized that. He stopped on his bike and immediately buzzed his number.

Ring.

Ring.

Nothing.

He could shoot him a text, but it was just not settling right with him. Logan had been doing one of his HIIT circuits on the bike next to him. He took a deep breath, gently tapping Logan’s shoulder. Despite Logan’s concentration, he desisted immediately, turning off his music to respond, “What is it?”

“Have you seen a certain Pottymouth at your work recently?”

Logan paused, with a look of concerned realization, “Come to think of it, no. No, I haven’t. Well, he was getting particularly erratic and called in sick… 3 days ago.”

“I think I should go check in on him. My Other Son’s been swamped with work lately, sooo…”

If Logan was perfectly honest, it was often confusing when Patton referred to half their crew as his son, “Other son? Did you mean Virgil?”

Patton nodded.

“Probably prudent. Unfortunately, no one can stand in for me at the firm tonight. And. You’re better at the… emotions stuff.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence! Hopefully I’m just worried for nothing.”

Patton rose up from his bike and was about to leave with his things. Logan smiled faintly, “Hey, if you would, could you tell me how he’s doing when you find out?”

Patton smiled back, a little forced if he was honest, “I’ll make sure to have him tell you that himself!”

-

It wasn’t a very far trip across the city to get to Remus’s apartment complex from the gym.

Once Patton parked his car and took another deep breath, he stepped out toward it.

After getting buzzed in and jogging up a couple flights of stairs, thanking his stars for basic training, he was at the door in a jiffy.

Patton wasn’t in the business, but he was reminded of the time Remus was raising heck to get Unit 404 from this building. He remembered seeing Logan trying desperately not to laugh when he heard about it.

He knew to knock to the phrase “Shave and a Haircut”, to alert Remus. He drummed out a few calls, waiting for Remus to make a sound on the other side, hoping he would.

It was a thing in their group, ever since they all watched “Roger Rabbit” together for a movie night, years ago.

Once. Twice. Thrice…

Patton heard the sound of chaotic crashing noises and an off-script, but still in the right cadence, “Fuck OFF!”

“Remus!? Kiddo, it’s me. I wanted to check on you!”

He heard some stumbling noises and a hoarse, “P-padre?”

“Can I come in?”

There was a dramatically loud sigh before the door was unlatched, unlocked, and open.

“Thanks- oh.”

Patton wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting, but Remus looked even more harried than he usually was. The darkness around his eyes even more pronounced, his face was so drained. His makeup smudged, tear-streaked, and hanging on for dear life. His gaze wild and jumpy. Remus didn’t do much more than stand in the living room, staring at Patton once he entered.

Patton saw that Remus had knocked over one of his glass cabinets. He noticed Remus looked pretty scratched up and was bleeding in places, mostly his hands and knuckles.

Patton furrowed his brow, asking mostly to avoid presumptions, “How are you feeling?”

Remus sounded breathless too, “What does it fucking… look like!?”

Patton paused and looked around some more, there was a lot of trash strewn about the floor. Granted there usually was, Remus would just call it “organized chaos”. But Patton did note that there was an alarming number of energy drink cans piled around a hopelessly full trash bin. Monsters, NOS, Red Bulls, 5 Hours, yerba mate, the works.

Patton slumped a little bit in worry, “Not exactly peachy keen, I take it?”

Patton had a hunch that Remus was screaming not that long ago, based on just how raw his voice sounded, “No SHIT!”

“Um, would you like to sit down for a bit? It might help to talk it out.”

“Can’t.”

“Too restless, huh?”

“Yeah.”

At that point Remus was mindlessly digging his fingernails into his arm. Patton winced a little and decided to ask, “Can I take care of those injuries, at least? I just want to make sure they don’t get-”

Remus glanced at but barely registered the wounds, “Infected?”

“Yeah.”

���F-first aid kit’s in the bathroom. Not like it matters. It would be just my luck to have a brown recluse bite or resistant staph or necrotizing fasciitis. You know where shit rots and liquefies and you get all septic?! Imagine the SMELL.”

Patton slowly worked his way to the bathroom to get the kit, not taking his eyes away from Remus, “Well, if it looks like it’ll be that way, I WILL be taking your butt to the ER.”

Remus didn’t seem to register that, droning on, “Oh. What if I lose a finger? Or several! Or my entire hands! Everybody says I might die of a heart attack before I hit 30? My ticker feels like it’s going to EXPLODE, Teddy Roosevelt. Imagine a live grenade strapped to it – BOOM. Sounds like fun.”

Patton flinched, thinking that was to get a rise out of him, “Kiddo, I think that’s the opposite of fun.”

Remus weakly laughed, pointing at his chest thoughtlessly, “Better than worrying about cancer or some shit!”

Eventually Patton had to break line of sight to grab the kit, but he kept talking, “When… when did you last get some sleep?”

There was a pause that made Patton’s own heart ache a little bit. Remus muttered after some hemming and hawing, “Uh… 3? 4?  4 days ago? I think. I don’t even fucking know.”

Patton took a moment to look over the medicine cabinet while he was there. Just to see if Remus had anything that could help him get much needed snooze time. There was a bottle of trazodone, mostly full, Benedryl, also mostly full… no suspiciously empty bottles of anything around. So that was a hopeful sign.

“Would you mind if I asked you to take something to help you sleep? After I patch you up?”

“You remember that story where a whole batch of Tylenol was tampered with and killed like seven whole people?”

“… I’ll ask again a little later, then.”

Patton returned to the living room, kit in hand, both relieved and disconcerted about Remus just standing in the same spot he was in. His hands were clenching and unclenching, like he was fighting to stay awake even longer. “Okay, it would be easier on both of us if you sat down while I dress those wounds.”

Remus didn’t move, so Patton tried to gently nudge this poor kid toward the sofa anyways. Thankfully, he didn’t resist at all. Patton noticed just how wobbly a gait he had in that short distance. Once seated, Patton also saw that both his knees were scuffed. Patton winced, imagining that he took at least a few falls very recently.

Without prompting, Remus whined, “Everything hurts, Padre.”

“Well, going without sleep as long as you have can give you a bad case of the body aches. Seen some of my old combat buddies deal with that on our worst deployments…”

Patton started to wipe down Remus’s knuckles first with some cotton balls and alcohol. He just wanted to get a better sense of how deep these cuts were. He was relieved that they were surprisingly shallow, “I think these will only need some simple bandages and antibiotic cream… but I’m definitely going to check on you later, to see how your hands are doing.”

Remus nodded, and started to blather a bit again, “I feel like Hypnos himself has forsaken me. A curse! A bane! Pat? Is his brother going to come for me? Am I going to ride down Styx and meet the big H himself?”

“… you’re not going to die, if I can help it. I swear to God Himself.”

“Gross.”

Patton sometimes forgot that their positions of faith were so far removed. But that didn’t dissuade him from caring a lot. He hated seeing his friend suffering so much. He took another breath, and addressed the gouges and cuts in Remus’s arms. They were rough, probably unintentionally from his own hands. He approached those similarly. “You feeling any sleepier, yet?”

“Mmm… no.”

Remus looked like he was about to pass out, Patton was reasonably sure just the fact he was seated and getting some TLC helped push him closer to shutting his eyes. “Well. I’m going to hang around for a few, just to make sure you’re alright, okay? Mind if I turn on the TV?”

Remus started to slur his speech considerably, “Knock yourself out, Holy Ghost.”

Patton thinly smiled about the blasphemous sentiment, but he shook that off, it didn’t matter really. He was just glad to see Remus doze off like he desperately needed it.

Patton decided to tune into Nickelodeon and watch some cartoon reruns, eventually hearing some loud snoring coming from Remus. Patton sighed and smiled at the sight.

-

“Oh GEEZ, Patton. Were you – were you here all night?”

Patton blinked awake from the shouting and looked outside to see it was bright out, “I-I guess I was?”

Virgil was there to see his boyfriend sleeping like the dead and Patton next to him.

“Logan told me to check on Remus and I just got back here. And-”

“Remus is going to be okay, I think. Do you have any idea what may’ve started this episode?”

Virgil sat down on the recliner nearby and looked tired but contemplative.

“His “family” tried contacting him. All I know was it devolving into a messy fight and it rattled him. He… stubbornly didn’t want to talk about it.”

Patton understood what he meant at this point.

The only blood relative Remus had anything nice to say about was Roman. Someone who should probably know what happened, if he wasn’t already aware.

All to address later, once Remus recovered a little more.

Patton ran his fingers through Remus’s greasy hair. Not the most pleasant, but he hoped it helped to soothe him as he continued to slumber.

Virgil smiled at both of them, his own concern never quite gone, “Thanks for this, Pop Star.”

[emma-what-son]

(Echee post) Did Emma Watson actually graduate from Brown University? Special treatment at college?

Posted on November 8, 2015

*PS this is a work in progress, will take a few days to get it in order...so apologies if it is incomplete Intro Emma has been talking about how important education is to her since she was 10. Even during the first interviews for Harry Potter promotion, back in 2001 for Philosopher's Stone, she was adamant about going to college. She's continuously said how important college/education is throughout the Harry Potter promotion years, but does what she say match up with what she actually did? She was playing along with that bullshit "Classy, educated" image she and her PR team (like her publicist Luke) have crafted for her, the one where she claims she is exactly the same as Hermione, the beloved character from the Harry Potter franchise. Course though, she's contradicted herself on that multiple, multiple times - sometimes saying she's exactly like Hermione, and other times claiming they're extremely different. There was some extremely strange stuff going down with Emma's Brown University Education though....as will be revealed below. And you'll have to start wondering if she actually did graduate or how much, how extensive and enormous, was the amount of special, unequal treatment she got for being a celebrity and a feminist (College campuses love pandering to social justice warriors/feminists - part of it is a natural love for them and another part is Obama forcing them to through the OCR and Title IX) Emma's Education Emma entered Brown University the Fall of 2009. Brown is a private, 4 year university/college in America. Emma entered Brown as an international student studying on an F-1 Visa. Okay Emma didn't do much BS during her first 3 semester (Fall 2009, Spring 2010, Fall 2010) at Brown and seemed to study there like most normal students, but it's after the first three semesters that things started getting extremely strange and Emma started telling a whole bunch of lies. Emma constantly raved about how awesome college is and gave every single impression she was going back to Brown in Spring 2011. getSurrey November 2010: getSurrey: Will you carry on acting? Emma: I will keep on acting. I’ve just been in a film called My Week With Marilyn. I’ve just finished shooting that. But finishing university is a priority. But I hope I do lots more things. I don’t really want to be put in a box – just yet. I’m not exactly sure. University Magazine Interview by Colin Turner (November 2010?): (Okay just note that this interview came out in June/July 2011 for Harry Potter Deathly Hallows Part 2 Promotion, but Emma mentions in the interview she just finished filming My Week with Marilyn, which happened in November 2010. Uni magazine is this student run magazine, so I'm assuming they don't do monthly issues (don't have the money/people for that) so it takes them several months to release an issue.) Colin Turner: You’ve gone to university, obviously, do you imagine taking up acting in the future or are you just seeing what happens? Emma: I just did a movie, finished something last week, “My week with Marilyn”, which is exciting. No, I think I’ll just keep doing things. But my education is my number one priority at the moment and everything else comes around that really. Parade Magazine Interview November 2010 (Emma Watson's Campus Confidential, interviewed by Jeanne Wolf): "I get some amazing offers to act, and sometimes it’s hard to say, “No, I’m going to stay here and do my homework.” People are like, “What do you mean she’s not available?” I may do some theater next summer, but this college experience is really important to me, and I won’t give it up for anything. I’m not going to school just for the academics–I wanted to share ideas, to be around people who are passionate about learning."

Echee says: Okay, notice how in November 2010 and even right up until January 17, Emma claims/gives the strong impression she's definitely going back to Brown University for the Spring 2011 semester. Big lol at the "this college experience is really important to me, and I won’t give it up for anything" two months before she did. By the way I have to mention the whole "Sorry for long absence from here - so much to do and so little time to do it in before I go back to school! Hope you're all ok x" was originally a tweet from Emma's @EmWatson twitter account but after she left university she deleted it lol. The picture I posted is from the official (that's why there's the blue check mark) Emma Watson Facebook page run by both Emma and her team. I guess she forgot to delete the facebook post after she deleted her tweet. For Spring 2011, the first day of classes was January 26 (per the academic calendar). Yet even at January 17, Emma stated she was getting ready to go back to school, hence her "so little time to do it in before I go back to school!" How the fuck can she be confused 1 week before classes start whether she's taking a personal leave of absence or not? Brown University Personal Leave of Absence Deadline

Brown University 3 types of leaves of absence

Okay, so of Brown University's three types of leaves of absence, Emma took personal. The deadline to declare you're taking next semester off is December 1, hence the Brown policy "If you are planning to take leave for the spring semester (Semester 2), you must declare by Dec. 1st." Either Emma was lying and trying to delay revealing she was taking time off to do her Perks of Being a Wallflower filming and BS Lancôme makeup and perfume work (very possible since she lies so much), or she was honestly undecided until right before, and thus requested special, unequal treatment that despite her missing the deadline, she should be allowed to take a leave of absence. Anyway I think it was special treatment from Brown allowing their publicity cow to get what she wanted. That means she was clearly lying in her January 17 tweet about going back to school.

This from Amanda Foreman, Emma's interviewer, for Emma's Vogue Magazine July 2011 interview: Emma struggled valiantly to fit everything into her life, becoming increasingly exhausted, until over Christmas advisors at Brown suggested that she take a leave of absence, a turn of events Yates was not surprised by. Notice how the Vogue article says it was "over Christmas"....Christmas Break for Brown starts after December 1, the deadline. First off, unless Emma's doctor signed off on it, then it was NOT a medical leave of absence, and her advisors gave her special treatment since she missed the personal leave of absence deadline already. And You know December 25 is over 3 weeks after the December 1st deadline, so that's an amazingly long extension despite the severe, absolute terms of "You must declare by December 1". Anyway, wowza, off to a bad start....getting special treatment when you're quitting school temporarily. Well, whatever, it's equality feminist Emma Watson that we are talking about here. She runs her mouth off talking about feminism and equality and whatever but like most Western (usually Caucasian) privileged feminists, have no idea what she's talking about. Despite Brown's Spring 2011 semester starting at the end of January, Emma kept quiet about all this until March 7, 2011. She announced it on her website EmmaWatson.com (which is now defunct and shut down): Here's her statement on March 7, 2011: As you know, I love Brown and I love studying pretty much more than anything. But recently I've had so much to juggle that being a student AND fulfilling my other commitments has become a little impossible. I've decided to take a bit of time off to completely finish my work on Harry Potter (the last one comes out this summer) and to focus on my other professional and acting projects. I will still be working towards my degree … it's just going to take me a semester or two longer than I thought : ) Hope you are all well! Thank you for all your continuing support. Emma xx.

On February 10, 2011 (well after the Brown semester had started), Emma confirms on twitter that she will be filming Perks of Being a Wallflower, which interfered with Brown (Brown school date ends May 20, Perks started filming May 9) and she had also already had various talks and was close to finalizing a deal with Lancôme. And she knew she would have to do some filming work for Lancôme commercials in the coming months. At this point clearly she was taking the semester off and yet she didn't announce it until March 7, 2011. Why'd she wait an entire month??? Why be so secretive of it? Just like how a week before classes started she was claiming she was getting ready to go back to school. And then why wait another month before she and Harry Potter publicist Vanessa Davies, release more details of this leave of absence? April 23, 2011 Press Release to Associated Press: LONDON (AP) — A spokeswoman for Harry Potter star Emma Watson says she will be transferring from Brown University to another university in the autumn. Vanessa Davies denied reports that the 21-year-old actress was "bullied out" of the Rhode Island university, saying there was no truth in reports by a number of online publications who cited classmates and "insiders". Davies said Saturday that Watson, who plays Hermione in the wizard movie series, has decided to pursue a different course not offered at Brown. She added that the star "has absolutely loved her time at Brown" and made many good friends there. Watson has recently taken time out of her studies to focus on her movie career. She has said that her first days in college were difficult. Davies did not identify the university Watson will be transferring to. Emma releases a statement April 30, 2011 on her website EmmaWatson.com (now defunct): I felt the need to let you all know the reason I took a semester off from Brown had nothing to do with bullying as the media have been suggesting recently. I have never been bullied in my life and certainly never at Brown. This "10 points to Gryffindor" incident never even happened. I feel the need to say this because accusing Brown students of something as serious as bullying and this causing me to leave seems beyond unfair. Please don't try and speculate about what I might do in September - no one can possibly know because I don't even know yet! Like my other fellow Brown students I am trying to figure out my third year and whether or not I will spend it abroad (this is common).

If you wondered why Emma let Vanessa Davies announce the transferring information, instead of Emma just announcing it on her website a week later, it's because Davies is head of publicity at Harry Potter, so they were working out how best to frame the narrative that Emma is still a hardworking student. Don't forget, ~200 million is spent on Harry Potter marketing for HP Deathly Hallows and Davies is part of that team and one of the heads. Warner Brothers had to protect their little cash cow until the movies were over and Emma couldn't damage their profits. Also, the Harry Potter spokesperson, Vanessa Davies, says Emma will be "transferring" but from Emma's own message (and it's later revealed), she was actually only just studying abroad, not transferring. Weird. April 2011 Associated Press Interview: I just knew I was going to be beating myself up because I wasn't going to be able to be doing the best that I knew that I could at school or in my job. If I'd been getting B's or C's I would've been really upset. Wonderland Magazine February 2014: You realize you can't do everything. I really did think I could do it all - commute back to the UK for Potter filming and press, then go to Brown for finals, and keep up with my friends and family. You can't do it by the way. You do have to take breaks. It's how I became interested in meditation and yoga. I developed bedtime rituals. Elle Magazine UK November 2011: Of course Harry Potter got in the way, with its relentless round of reshoots and promotion, meaning that Emma had to temporarily halt her studies at the start of this year. "I was basically commuting across the Atlantic. Taking a semester out wasn't what I wanted to do, but I am still enrolled at Brown." Collider.com Interview with Steve Weintraub November 14, 2010: Well, I keep trying to but she keeps finding her way back into my life. I still have two movies left to promote, and they’re still cutting and editing Part 2 so I might have to do some more voice recording and other stuff for it, so it’s a very gradual goodbye. I’m being eased out of it gently........I mean we are special, it is Harry Potter. But we only had two days—I was being sarcastic (laughs). Sorry, I have to like fill that in because otherwise it will be written, “we are special!” (laughs). But yeah we only had two days to shoot it and we needed so much more time than that. So yeah, we have reshoots at Christmas. So it’s not over. It’s not over yet guys! Echee says: Okay, what? Notice how in Wonderland Emma claims she was busy filming for Harry Potter and her Elle Magazine interviewer claims the same. Harry Potter Deathly Hallows Part 1 and Part 2 filming ended in June 2010, and then for less than a week they had to reshoot the epilogue in December 2010 (they reshot around Christmas time, so Emma had already finished her Brown Semester). They re-shot the epilogue because the makeup/CGI made the actors look elderly instead of middle aged. Also, HP and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 premiere was July 15, 2011. Generally press begins one month in advance (though you might do some magazine interviews 3-4 months in advance). Emma was not seen at any events/doing press until beginning of July 2011. She was stuck in Pittsburgh doing Perks of Being a Wallflower filming (which took place from May 9 to June 29, 2011) Emma was also filming for and doing work on her Lancôme stuff in March/April. How can she claim she was too busy during the Spring 2011 school year (which was from January 26 - May 20) with Potter filming and promotion? She did none of that. The overlap she had with school and non-school stuff was Perks filming and Lancôme filming/promotion. It had NOTHING to do with taking time off for Potter. Plus she was negotiating those deals for Perks in January 2011 and for Lancôme in December-ish. There was ZERO reason for her to take time off from school, but she did, because she was desperate for fame/money, and she blamed it on Potter to hide the truth. PopSugar On-Set May/June 2011 Interview with

Shannon Vestal Robson: Shannon: Have you read the book, and do you feel pressure to live up to it? Emma: I read the script first and then I read the book. It was so funny because I read the script and I came back to Brown and I told my roommates that I've just read this amazing script, The Perks of Being a Wallflower, and my friends were like, "Oh, that's my favorite book. So jealous that you get to play Sam. If I was ever going to be in a movie, if I was ever going to play any character ever, it would be Sam. Notice how Emma mentions going back to Brown and asking her Brown roommates (Scout Willis, Madison Utendahl, etc.) about the book. So even during the Fall 2010 Semester, she was secretly thinking of filming Perks next year. And remember the interviews I posted above (from November 2010) where she claimed education and university came first? BS. She was already planning back in September 2010 (when she went back to Brown) about leaving next year. Also, remember this. Emma is claiming she was overworked with Brown and Potter stuff.....why in September 2010 was she looking at possible filming projects that would coincide with Spring 2011 Semester and Summer? If you claim you are overworked, why are you looking to add on more, extra, unnecessary work. She was also negotiating her Lancôme deal in December 2010 as well. Harry Potter Deathly Hallows Part 2 New York City Press Conference July 2011 (Listen at 17:30): "I'm going to Oxford, in the fall, to study English for a year. Just to explain, I haven't left Brown. I'm still enrolled at Brown, but I'm doing my third year abroad. Studying at home, abroad, for me. So I'll go back to the States to do my last year. I took a semester off but my A-Level credits actually count as an advance-place-me-out-a-semester so I'm no further behind, I'm still technically going into my third year. So, yeah, that's that." Something to remember is how Vanessa Davies (when the Harry Potter spokeswoman announced Emma was transferring from Brown in April)says "Watson, who plays Hermione in the wizard movie series, has decided to pursue a different course not offered at Brown". On Emma's EmmaWatson.com website in the FAQ section (undated), she says this: I was seriously torn as to whether to stay in the UK or go to the States as let's face it the UK has some of the best universities in the world. But, ultimately, I loved the course at Brown and really liked the idea of experiencing a different country and culture - and I must say I've never been happier, I absolutely love Brown. So strange how Emma + her Harry Potter spokesperson contradict each other. Emma claims she purposefully chose Brown (instead of staying in the UK for university) because she loved Brown's course, but then the spokesperson said the reason Emma is transferring is because Emma was sad that Brown didn't have the course she wanted to take. Emma reveals in the press conference that she will be studying English a Oxford. The thing is, Emma was and did graduate as an English Literature major. So Brown did have the course she wanted to take (which is what she earlier said). Okay so Watson claims here that despite taking an entire semester (3-5 classes) off, she's no further behind than the rest of her classmates. Damn, this girl must be such a hard worker to not fall behind. Still, is she telling the truth, lying as usual, or begging/threatening Brown University to give her special, unequal treatment? Fact checking Watson's "advance-place-me-out-a-semester" claim Brown University Office of the Registrar - The College, Advanced Standing Guidelines

Anyway, there's a lot of information and I only parsed out a bit of it, but here's a quick summary. Basically, to graduate from Brown University, you need to take a minimum of 30 classes during your college years (can be at Brown or other approved colleges) and also a minimum of 8 semesters. Just to mention, A-Levels are the UK equivalent of American Advanced Placement (A.P.) courses or International Baccalaureate (IB) courses. Also, when Brown says "credits" they mean courses/classes. So, yes, Emma told the truth in that her semester standing is no further behind because her A-Levels counted as an extra semester. However! Emma is still behind in total number of classes taken because A-Levels do not count towards your degree requirement of 30 classes/courses. So she needs to take more classes per semester than the average person since she's behind.

Vanity Fair May 2010 Interview: After shopping classes, she settled on European women's history, Ovid's Metamorphoses, and acting. “I think actually I'm the worst person in the class,” says Watson cheerily. So in Emma's first semester (that's the time period they're talking about), Emma took 3 classes - women's history (lol at this feminist class), Ovid, and acting. Brown requires students to take 3-5 classes a semester and so Emma took the bare minimum....kind of super lazy for someone so excited to get to college and start learning and whatever else she's been spouting for years. Okay, Brown's most basic, elementary requirement that ALL students have to fulfill to graduate is to take 30 classes. Since Emma only took 3 classes her first semester, that means 30 - 3 = 27 classes left to take over 7 semesters. Since Emma took a semester off but claims advanced standing, meaning she wants to graduate in May 2013 (September 2009 - May 2013), that means...... 27 classes over 6 total semesters. 27 / 6 = 4.5 classes per semester This I will go into detail in below, later, but just a heads up, Emma also took the Fall 2012 Semester off in order to film Noah. Because Emma had enough A-Levels, she did indeed get 2 semesters of advanced standing, but to graduate in 6 semesters means...... 30 minimum classes to graduate / 6 semesters = 5 classes a semester every semester Brown only allows you to take a max of 5 classes a semester and since Emma only took 3 classes her very first semester at Brown, it means it's impossible for Emma to graduate by May 2013 without special, unequal treatment....special treatment being either lowering the required 30 classes or allowing her to take 6 classes a semester, but come on, Emma is super lazy and unprofessional. Can you honestly see this girl doing 6 classes a semester when she lazily only took 3 classes her first semester? Freshman year is the easiest you know.... And their 30 classes requirement is their most basic requirement - to let her worm her way out of it would be absolutely disgusting.

[smooshjames]

forget you not (iii)

uh-oh, uh-oh, here i go again (or: interviews and old friends)

word count: just under 4k

a/n: part 3 of forget you not! i was gonna post this yesterday and then i totally forgot, but it’s here now! once again, the band in this story is based on little mix and i didn’t write any of the songs referenced (this chapter’s songs can be found here, here, here, and here). at the risk of sounding annoying, i have a ko-fi if you’d like to donate, but don’t feel obligated to do so!! if you can’t or don’t want to that’s totally fine, thank you for taking the time to read my work regardless of if you can spend money on it or not. i hope you enjoy!!

warnings: angst (again)

previous parts: one, two

Sunday morning brought with it more Twitter notifications than you’d gotten in a long time. Your alarm went off obscenely early yet again; you had a full day ahead of you. The band was recording a new single which would be released sometime later in the year (the date was still up in the air) and you had decided to do it while you were in LA since you could work with a few producers that you’d never met before.

So, at five o’clock in the morning, you rolled over in your hotel bed and groped around on your nightstand for your phone. You shot upright when you saw how many notifications you had, a bolt of panic going through you at first. What the hell could’ve happened to result in so much activity?

You scrolled through a couple of your mentions before you got to a tweet from some gossip site. There was a photo of you from the concert the night before, probably taken by a fan if the quality was anything to go by. You were mid-note, your mouth open around a word, and it was pretty obvious that you were crying. The tweet read: “‘You never brought me flowers’! Y/N Y/L/N tears up while singing her band’s hit song Towers. Could there be a mystery man that caused her to get so emotional on stage…?”

Carly mumbled a good morning from the bed next to yours. You didn’t reply. You barely even noticed her leaving the main area of the room and heading into the bathroom; you were too busy looking through the replies to the tweet. They were all pretty tame, but you still felt a pit opening up in your stomach. You didn’t have any press that day since you were recording the new single, but the next day was chock-full of interviews and other promotional shit. Your Twitter feed was showing no signs of slowing down, and you really didn't want to have to explain to some random interviewer that you'd been crying because you still weren't over a breakup from five years ago.

“Everything okay?” Carly asked. You looked up, startled, and realized that she had come back from the bathroom. “You seem… distraught.”

You beckoned her over to your bed and showed her the original tweet from the gossip site. Carly gasped and took your phone from you, beginning to scroll through the replies. “Jesus,” she said. “This’ll be a shitstorm.”

“I know,” you replied. You glanced over at the clock on the nightstand and sighed; you needed to get up and ready for the day. Carly gave your phone back to you.

You muted your Twitter notifications for the time being, not wanting to be distracted while you were recording the new single. If an interviewer brought it up you’d just find a way to gloss over it.

You shuffled into the bathroom and did your usual morning routine. You decided to forego makeup for the day since you’d just be sitting around a studio all day, anyway. You dressed in comfortable clothes for the same reason. You figured it would be a little bit hard to focus on recording if you were in heels or tight jeans or something similarly uncomfortable, and you wanted to save your remaining nice clothes for the following day, anyway. Sweatpants and an old t-shirt it was.

Once you were dressed and somewhat ready to face the world, you and Carly grabbed your bags and went out into the hallway. Alexis and Piper were still in their room next door, but they let you and Carly in so that you could all sit and talk while they finished getting ready. Once you were all good to go, you met up with Michelle in the lobby and got into the car that would take you to the studio.

It was a pretty cool space; chill, with couches and chairs spread out around the mixing board where the producers would work their magic. You met the audio engineers as you were walking in, and everyone shook hands and went in to get to work. They seemed nice, and they definitely had a lot of cool ideas for what might enhance the song’s sound. You and the rest of the band had already worked out the lyrics and a basic melody, but the recording technicians had some ideas to really make the song pop.

The day passed in a blur of singing and listening and revising, and then repeating the process all over again. By the time you left, the sun was touching the western horizon and the song was almost finished; just a few final edits before it would be perfect and ready for release. “We’ll get it to Michelle in the next couple of days,” one of the producers said.

You were exhausted as you collapsed back into your hotel bed, but it was a good sort of exhaustion; the kind of sated tiredness that comes with a good day’s work.

You were flying so high, in fact, that you’d almost forgotten about all the Shayne drama. You fell asleep with a slight smile on your face, and your sleep was peaceful and dreamless.

***

That pleasant warmth of a job well done was ripped from you almost as soon as the next day began. Your first interview was with a local radio station, and it went alright for about five minutes; you exchanged pleasantries with the hosts, Joe and Maggie, and sat down between Carly and Alexis for your interview.

The hosts did their intro, introduced the band, and explained that you were currently in LA on the west coast branch of your current tour. Once that was done and the band had all said hello, Maggie turned to you, and the smile she flashed you was… strangely apologetic.

And then you remembered. Shayne, Towers, crying onstage. That apologetic smile hit you so fast it practically gave you whiplash.

“So, ladies,” Maggie said. “There was some interesting news about your concert on Saturday. You guys sang your song Towers -- beautiful song, by the way -- and Y/N… there were a couple of tears there, huh? Anything you can tell us about that? Is everything okay?”

From beside you, Carly opened her mouth, probably to say that you didn’t want to talk about it, but you stopped her with a hand on her arm. Her willingness to defend you meant a lot, but if you didn’t address it, it would just keep getting brought up. At least if you answered this you could do some damage control. “Yeah,” you said. “Um, I actually lived in LA for a while before meeting these lovely ladies and starting up the band with them. And while I was here, I was in a pretty serious relationship with a guy -- I won’t say his name for privacy’s sake -- and we broke up. I guess being back in LA and singing that song just… brought back some memories. But that was all; no new mystery man or anything like that, I’m afraid.”

There, that was a good enough answer. It held enough of the truth that you felt confident they wouldn’t press you for any more information, but you hadn’t told them the exact real reason. They didn’t know he was in the room, and they didn’t know who he was.

Maggie smiled and nodded, and Joe asked another question about the band that was unrelated to your love life, which brought a wave of relief sweeping over you. You smiled and laughed through the rest of the interview, chiming in with answers whenever it felt appropriate, and then said your goodbyes as the hosts transitioned into the next song

All things considered, that hadn’t been so bad.

Once you were out of the radio station headquarters and into your car, Michelle got back to business. “Alright, next up… another interview which won’t be broadcasted live. You guys are performing Think About Us while you’re there. Then we have an hour for lunch. After lunch, you’ll film a video with Smosh, and then another radio interview after that, and then you’re free for the day. Assuming everything goes to plan.”

You nodded and settled into easy conversation with the girls during the car ride to your next venue. You were pretty excited to film with Smosh; you hadn’t seen any of their recent stuff, but you were familiar with them in that you had heard of them and you knew they primarily made comedic content. You figured that would probably mean it would be a fun time to film there.

The next interview went just fine, and the performance went even better. For lunch, you and the rest of the team got food at a cute little bistro near Smosh’s offices.

When you arrived after your lunch break you were greeted by Ian Hecox, the president of the company. He was super friendly, greeting you all with handshakes and a warm smile. Once you’d all been introduced he began to lead you through the office space, explaining that you’d be recording an episode of their ongoing Try Not to Laugh series. As he launched into an explanation of the rules, a hand on your shoulder made you tense and whip around, surprised. This brought you face to face with…

“Damien?”

Your eyes widened almost comically as you saw the man standing before you. He looked a little different since you’d seen him last; his hair was longer and streaked with blue, and he carried himself a little taller, a little prouder. But he still had that same boyish smile, those same brown eyes. He was still Damien, and he was here.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said.

You laughed, shocked and joyful, and threw your arms around his shoulders, practically launching yourself onto him. He hugged you back tightly. When you pulled back, you punched him jovially on the arm.

“It’s so good to see you!” you said, a little breathless. “What are you doing here?

“I work here. I’ll actually be filming with you guys this afternoon,” he replied

“No way, that’s crazy!” You leaned back and perched your hands on his hips, surveying him, half disbelieving.

He nodded and opened his mouth to speak again, but Ian’s voice interrupted your reunion. “You two, uh… you two know each other?”

“Yeah,” you said, glancing over your shoulder. “I knew Damien… God, ages ago. We were really good friends.”

Carly’s eyes now widened in recognition. She smiled at Damien and raised her hand in greeting to him.

“Hey, Carly,” he said. He put his hand on your forearm and you turned back to face him again. The look on his face made your smile fade a little bit; he seemed nervous and a little sad. “Y/N, I should warn you --”

“Holy shit!” another voice interrupted you two, this one distinctively female. And also… strangely familiar. You turned toward the source and what you saw felt like two consecutive throat punches.

Courtney, Shayne’s new girlfriend, was standing across the room. She seemed to have just entered, and judging from the wide-eyed look on her face, she was just as surprised as you were. Standing directly next to her, staring at the floor by your feet… was Shayne himself.

You heard Damien mutter something under his breath, but your brain didn’t fully process what he said. You were too busy looking at Courtney and Shayne and wondering why the hell they were here. Before you could say anything, though, Ian stepped forward.

“Sweet, we’re all here,” he said. “Y/N, Alexis, Piper, Carly, this is Shayne and Courtney. Shayne’s gonna be filming with you guys this afternoon --” of course he was “-- and Courtney is --”

“Your biggest fan!” the girl interrupted him, and even despite the resentment you couldn't help feeling toward her, you had to admit that she was really sweet. She seemed like someone you might be really good friends with were it not for the fact that she was dating your ex, which made you feel even worse; she hadn’t done anything to deserve your hatred, but here you were hating her anyway. “You probably don’t remember, but I was at the concert on Saturday. It was super good, you guys crushed it.”

“I remember,” you said, because you didn’t know when to shut up. Courtney’s jaw dropped onto the floor. “Yeah, I remember. You guys came together, didn’t you?”

The accusation was clear, at least to those in the know; Carly went pale, Piper inhaled sharply, Alexis started coughing, Damien shuffled his feet nervously, and Shayne opened his mouth to speak. Before he could say whatever he wanted to, though, he seemed to think better of it and closed his mouth again.

Courtney didn’t seem to pick up on anything unusual, though, because she just nodded happily and went on talking.

“Yeah, we did!” she said, slinging her arm around Shayne’s shoulders. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve said that he stiffened as she pulled him into her side. His face tightened into a grimace, but you couldn't possibly imagine why. It was obvious that they were together. He didn’t need to hide that for your sake. “I was so fucking pumped when you guys sang Towers, you don’t even understand. That’s one of my favorite songs by you guys and you crushed it, especially you Y/N. Your part always hits a little different for me.”

Yeah, you and me both, you thought. But you smiled and nodded happily. “I’m glad you liked it!” you said. You turned back to the band and made eye contact with Michelle. She raised an eyebrow. You inclined your head just slightly toward Ian. She nodded; she knew what you needed.

“I hate to interrupt,” she said, “but we should probably get this show on the road. The girls have got a packed schedule today.”

“Of course!” Ian said. “Courtney, maybe you can harass them more if they have time when we’re done filming. But for now, Shayne, Damien, ladies, follow me.”

You hurried to catch up to the rest of the band. Carly and Alexis fell into step with you while Piper started walking behind you, obviously trying to shield you from Shayne’s gaze. You had another moment of profound gratitude for these girls; they took care of you when no one else would, they loved you when you couldn’t love yourself, and they always seemed to know what you needed without having to ask. That shared strength and love was one of the reasons the band had stayed together for so long.

Impressively enough, you managed to keep your shit together until you got to Carly’s. You didn’t bother texting her to let her know that you were coming. She’d let you in if she was home, and if she wasn't home, you knew her building code and where she kept her spare key.

Luckily, she was home; she let you up to her apartment without question.

Only once you’d crossed the threshold of your best friend’s apartment did you allow yourself to cry. You crumpled like a piece of paper against her and let out a sob so loud it bordered on a scream. Carly maneuvered you back onto her couch, sat down with you, and held you until you could talk. You were still crying when you pulled away from her, but you’d gotten out the full-body sobs.

“Honey, what happened?” Carly asked. You could hear the concern in her voice; it was rare that you showed up at her place unannounced, and even rarer that you started the visit by scream-crying into her shirt. She probably thought somebody was dead.

“Shayne got home from work and ended things,” you said. “Just… no warning, no ceremony, nothing. Three days ago he asked me my fucking ring size and today he told me that we aren’t working anymore. And I don’t understand because I thought he was happy! I thought we were good! I thought that we’d be fucking picking a date for our wedding, not for when I’m gonna come move out the rest of my shit!”

Before Carly could respond, your phone vibrated. You took it out and couldn’t help your tearful, almost-manic laugh at what you saw there; a text from Shayne, apologizing, asking if you would come home and talk. You went to reply, but Carly grabbed your phone and held it away from you before you could.

“Hey!” you exclaimed, lunging for your phone. She was an expert at keep-away, though, and you couldn’t even get close. You cursed yourself for all the nights out where you asked her to keep your phone away from you if you got too drunk. “Carly, give me my phone!”

“Promise me you won’t text him back and you can have it,” she said.

“That’s ridiculous! Of course I’m gonna text him back!”

“Is that a good idea?” she asked. She cocked an eyebrow. “If you can honestly tell me that you think it’s a good idea for you to say anything to him right now, I’ll give you your phone back.”

That knocked some sense into you. Immediately, the fight left your body and you sat back on the couch. She studied you for a moment and then leaned forward to set the phone on the coffee table. When you didn’t go for it, she relaxed and leaned back.

“Sorry,” you said. “I’m all over the place.”

“I know. It’s okay. That’s what I’m here for, right? Now, walk me through what happened.”

“He came home and he was being weird, and he was like ‘hey can we talk’ and then he basically just said that it isn’t working anymore and that he can’t be with me. He didn’t give me a reason besides that and I didn’t ask him for one. I just packed a bag and came here.”

Carly nodded, considering. “That’s really fucking weird.”

“Honestly, I’m surprised it took this long,” you said. At her shocked expression, you shrugged. “I’ve always said that he’s out of my league, right? It was only a matter of time before he got tired of me and realized he could do better. He probably realized that if we got married, he’d have a hell of a harder time getting away from me.”

“Were it not for the state of emotional peril you’re in right now, I would slap you,” Carly said. You let out a startled laugh; of all the things she could've said, you weren't expecting that. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say, and I’ve known you for a long time. If that was true -- which it isn’t, by the way, you’re the sexiest, most beautiful, smartest, funniest, greatest person I know -- it wouldn’t have taken him three years to ‘get bored.’ This is one of the dumber stunts he’s pulled, which is saying something. But this isn’t your fault. He’s the asshole here, regardless of his reasoning. If you want to talk to him and try to work things out, that’s your business. But whether or not things work out, this will always be on him. And I’ll be here every step of the way, buttercup.”

You nodded gratefully, even though you didn't believe her. You’d never been good enough for Shayne. This was always inevitable. Still, you put on a brave face for Carly. Better she didn’t know what you were really thinking. “You’re right,” you said. “Thanks, Carly.”

You could tell from the look on her face that she didn’t completely believe you, which wasn’t surprising. Carly always knew when you were lying. But she also knew when to let an issue lie. “Good,” she said. “Now, Bridesmaids or Legally Blonde?”

Ian led the group to a colorful sound stage. To the right was a partition, and behind it a bunch of strange props and costume pieces. To the left was a single stool, a piano, and some bongos.

The room was swarming with activity as crew people moved around getting everything set up and ready to go. Shayne and Damien led you over to the set. “Y/N, why don’t you sit in the stool for the intro?” Shayne said, the first words he’d said to you since you had broken up. His voice was professional and upbeat, betraying almost no emotion. “And then I’ll stand to your right, Damien will be behind me, and the rest of the band can be to your left.”

“Sounds fine to me,” you said, and you hoped your voice sounded less forced to him than it did to you. You sat on the stool, glad to be off your feet; your balance was suddenly fucked now that Shayne was next to you, and you were afraid you wouldn’t be able to keep yourself upright if you tried to stand for much longer.

Shayne went to go check something with a cameraperson, and the girls formed another huddle around you. Carly stood right in front of you, Piper to your immediate left, and Alexis just behind you. “Are you alright?” Carly asked.

“I’m sorry,” Damien said, cutting into the conversation before you could even think about how to answer Carly’s question. He was standing to your right, though he was a little farther away than your bandmates were. “I wanted to let you know before you saw him. I thought maybe it would be easier that way.”

“It’s okay, Dames. It’s not your fault,” you said. You reached over to squeeze his bicep, hoping to ease his mind a little bit, but the guilt didn’t leave his face.

“How did you know we would be here today?” Carly asked. You gave her a stern look, but she either didn’t see it or just didn’t care.

Damien fidgeted, nervous. You didn’t blame him; Carly was a force of nature when she wanted to be. “Um,” he said, “what do you mean?

“I mean that you had enough foresight to know that you could surprise Y/N and warn her about Shayne. So you knew we would be here.”

“We get a filming schedule at the beginning of the week,” Damien said. You looked at Carly as if to say There, see? A perfectly good reason. Now back off and let the poor boy breathe. But then Damien continued: “and Shayne told me about seeing Y/N on Saturday, so --”

He cut himself off, clamping his mouth shut as he seemed to realize what he’d said. Your gaze flew from Carly to Damien. For a moment, you felt thoroughly like a middle schooler; the he-said-she-said was something you thought would get left in sixth grade, but here you were nonetheless. Still, you couldn’t help the way your heart rate accelerated at Damien’s words. If Shayne had mentioned you specifically…

“What?” you asked.

You didn’t want to get your hopes up. You couldn’t get your hopes up. Shayne mentioning you didn’t mean anything. Besides, he had a new girlfriend now, anyway. He’d probably just done it since you and Damien were friends before shit hit the fan.

Damien didn’t get the chance to answer your question before Shayne returned from his conversation with the cameraperson. You were pretty sure he knew that you guys had been talking about him; it was pretty obvious by the way the conversation stopped short as soon as he got within earshot. But if he knew, he didn’t comment on it. He just walked over and took his place next to you.

Carly flashed him a look colder than the south pole and moved to stand on your other side, and then she plastered the brightest smile you’d ever seen on her face. You did the same.

“Alright, everybody ready?” one of the crew people asked. You nodded your assent. “Three, two, and… action!”

[shinsousbedroom]

Plus Ultra! Go Beyond the Screen!

celebrity AU drabble series, 3K~, quirkless actor Midoriya Izuku gets interviewed

[Read on AO3.]

GO BEYOND!

A conversation with Japan’s rising star Midoriya Izuku on standing up on set and off as the next symbol for peace. A GQ Japan exclusive.

By Taneo Tokuda | Correspondent

[Image of Midoriya Izuku, leaning next to a window, his body arched off the wall. His head is tilted up and over towards the camera, the left side of his body illuminated from the light coming in, the right side fading into the shadows. He’s wearing a sheepish grin, tugging at the tie around his neck with a single hooked finger, jacket sliding off his shoulders. He’s wearing Best Jeanist’s exclusive non-denim line, and the monocolor layering of velvets in the lighting make his green hair, red shoes, and tie pop in rich color even more.]

I’d been warned that Midoriya Izuku has no regard for outdated formality. He’s far from callous or jaded — sweet and optimistic are two words often used to describe him — but propriety is something he has never been concerned with.

I’d been warned, but I didn’t understand.

Any journalist who’s worked the entertainment beat for a while knows there’s a cadence every interview follows. The details may change, but there are conventional practices that help an interview go smoothly for both the interviewer and subject, to make the most of a complicated relationship between celebrities and the media.

This interview starts behind the scenes, as most do, with the e-mail I send out to Midoriya’s manager, laying out a request to speak with his charge. The enthusiastic response comes just an hour later and references details from a number of stories I’d written across the entire span of my career.

It isn’t his manager’s response. It’s Midoriya’s.

That was my second warning to assume nothing, but I still stumble into Midoriya’s apartment expecting a clean, contemporary, moderately-sized apartment. It’s rare to host interviews in celebrity homes, and when it happens, it’s meant to be a statement — power, wealth, pride, affected sincerity.

Instead, Midoriya opens the door halfway and apologizes because he moved in recently and there’s still a stack of boxes blocking him from opening it any further. The door handle nearly catches between the buttons of my shirt as I squeeze through the crack. Once inside, I trip over his trademark red shoes and nearly take him down in the process.

He catches me in his arms and says with a wry grin, “Don’t worry, I am here!”

That, of course, is a classic reference to his latest role: All Might. All for One will be a Netflix reboot of the old '80s superhero film franchise that turned Toshinori Yagi into a household name. In a casting coup that stunned fans and industry insiders alike, Midoriya fell into the role shortly after making headlines for saving a life during a villain attack on the set of long-running soap opera The Quirked and the Quirkless. The villain had been looking for Toshinori, and in his absence, grabbed a crewmember hostage. Midoriya attacked the villain despite having no quirk.

Soon after, Toshinori reversed his longstanding refusal to produce an All Might reboot and gave the studio a green light — with a stipulation. Just as the franchise had brought him up from obscurity, so must the franchise fill its ranks with youths aiming to catch their big breaks. Enter: Midoriya Izuku.

Midoriya sets me back down gently — yes, he picked me up when I fell, even though I’m a full half meter taller than him — and I’m more inclined to see his suitability as Toshinori’s successor.

Physically, he still looks nothing like his mentor. Where Toshinori is buff, Midoriya is lean, tall to his short, loud to his soft. Toshinori held his strength in the brash, nigh-cocky attitude that got him into as much trouble as himself as it did in the show as All Might. Midoriya carries strength like woven spider silk; it’s graceful and dangerous, but all too easy to overlook for those unused to subtlety. But he carries the same bright aura of unwavering love and determination.

More to the point, I also felt his arms and abs in the fall, and he may not look like he has the muscles of All Might, but they are definitely there.

“You can take a seat anywhere in the living room if you’d like,” Midoriya says, ushering me down the hall with a light hand on my back. “Breakfast will be ready in just a few minutes, but I haven’t put together the kitchen table yet, so living room it is.”

“Breakfast? Did we decide on a working breakfast?” I replied.

“I couldn’t invite a guest into my home without offering snacks! Since this interview coincides with breakfast, I made breakfast.” He pushes me towards the sofa and wags a finger at me when I try to follow him to the kitchen anyway. “No guests allowed to hover or help in the kitchen. It’s too small!”

The rest of the apartment is half unpacked, and haphazardly at that. Boxes are open, dumped out into piles on the floor where they will likely be permanently placed. I perch on the arm of a ratty sofa by the only portion of the room that’s been set up. It’s a veritable shrine to pro heros, fictional and real alike. Two of the five shelves are devoted solely to All Might merchandise.

Midoriya appears behind me, as if by quirk. “Ah, do you collect hero memorabilia? I’ve been a big fan of All Might since I was little, and then I started following hero society in general when I got into middle school, so I’ve built up a lot over the years especially rare items like if you look at the back corner there’s a particularly cool figure of All Might from the emerald era which if you remember was received so poorly that most of the merch was shelved in one location and subsequently destroyed during a villain attack…” He goes on without end or pause, taking me through the history of each item on the third shelf. At minute six, he abruptly tenses mid-sentence. I can almost feel the heat from his red face as he starts stammering apologies for wasting my time and gingerly puts his collection away again.

“You've got a lot of stuff I haven’t seen. It’s interesting.” It makes me uncomfortable how much he clearly doesn’t believe me. “It’ll be good content, that you have such a long history being an All Might fan.” He shrugs my words aside, and gestures behind me to a giant spread he’d laid out on the coffee table before seeing my interest in his collection.

We sit. For a moment, the only sound in the apartment is the clatter of silverware, the muffled bustle of Tokyo’s streets at midmorning a soothing counterpoint. I’m considering how to break the lingering tension I caused. But then —

“I’m a quirkless soap opera actor who seemingly got the biggest role of the decade for doing something completely unrelated to acting. I’m optimistic, not an idiot.” There’s a taut line to his shoulders again, at odds with the quiet, delicate way he drinks his miso soup.

His eyes trail back to the curio shelf of hero merchandise. A heaviness builds between us in the seconds it takes him to think. “I grew up in a neighborhood hostile to me and my mother. I mumble my thoughts out loud and have an obsession for heroes that edges past societally acceptable as an adult. I have no quirk, she had no husband, we had no money. Any insult you could say about us, I’ve heard it.”

He looks me dead in the eyes and leans forward. I can’t help but mirror him. “It would be disrespectful to everyone who supported me to get here if I let the back talk get to me. I worked hard for this role, and I earn it with every new day of effort I put into it. All Might is the symbol for peace, and I intend to embody that legacy. No one will be able to doubt me when I’m done.”

Anyone who’s familiar with Midoriya’s reputation knows not to be surprised by his humility, but it’s a revelation to see this drive, his earnest focus pinning down my full attention. The last bit of the puzzle that was his casting choice is answered in one overwhelming look. If All for One does it right, his magnetism is going to Detroit Smash every heart in Japan.

“The waffles!” He springs up and mutters his way back to the kitchen, cutting past the moment. “I forgot the waffles, Kirishima gave me a waffle maker the shape of All Might’s crest as a housewarming gift, they’re so cute and surprisingly detailed…” In just a few seconds he plops the plate down amid the overfull table and settles back into his seat with a smile. “So? Should we get started?”

Interview has been edited for length and clarity. For the full article, visit us online. Catch the first season of All for One on Netflix, streaming xx xxx.

[Image of Midoriya Izuku sitting outdoors on some sidewalk steps in workout gear, leaning back on one arm, the other hand raised to cover his face from the sun. He’s wearing bright green short shorts and a very loose tank top, the arm holes cut out so deep that the angle lets the photographer capture the sheen of oil and sweat across his ribs and back as light filters through the shirt. One sock is pulled up taut, the other scrunched down, same classic red shoes still on his feet. His legs and arms and hands are haphazardly wrapped in carefully grimed bandages, as is his makeup, smudges of dirt across his cheeks along with make up to bruise his lips a deep, pouty red. Boxing gloves hang over his shoulders, and a bandana mimicking the famed mouth guard from All Might’s most iconic outfit hangs around his neck.]

TT: Congratulations on your first starring role! How does the move from semi-recurring character to protagonist feel?

MI: It’s a huge challenge, one I’m incredibly excited for! My character in Quirkless wasn’t supposed to be mine. I’d already been involved with the show as a quirkless consultant but one day on set, they’d had a huge scheduling conflict, and Director Ryuko remembered I’d originally auditioned for the show for a character that was ultimately cut. She brought me in as a literal last minute replacement, and soon enough a three-episode run expanded into a semi-regular spot next season. At least with All for One I’ve had tons of time to prepare.

TT: Take us through what it was like getting the role of All Might.

MI: I think the media explained the villain attack that brought me to the studio’s attention plenty. What's more important is when after I recovered, Toshinori-san contacted me and connected me to his talent agency, and my new manager was the one that successfully nabbed me an audition for the new show. They had us go through a few standard readings and chemistry checks, and then I got the part.

TT: You auditioned?

MI: I did! That’s what makes the rumors of favoritism even more frustrating. I promise I didn’t get the role because I stopped a villain attack on set! Well, I hope I didn’t.

[File photograph of Toshinori Yagi and Midoriya Izuku post-hostage situation. The stage is in disarray, black goop covering the furniture and floor of a fake hospital waiting room in a thick layer of sticky slime. They stand off-center in the foreground, Midoriya rubbing a fist over his eye, exhausted, possibly crying, as Toshinori pulls him into his side for a hug. Both have shock blankets draped across their shoulders. Emergency respondents case and clean the scene in the background.]

TT: How does it feel to take up the mantle of one of the most iconic comic book characters of all time?

MI: I’d be lying if I didn’t say nerve-wracking, but I’m more excited than anything. I’ve dreamed about this since I was 5, when the doctors first told me I’d never have a quirk and never be a licensed hero. All that love was redirected toward All Might. Some people might say being too big a fanboy will make playing him hard, but I’ve been preparing for this my entire life, and that’s what I’m trying to hold on to instead of anxiety. Toshinori-san has also been a spectacular mentor to me through this whole process.

TT: It's been said that Toshinori-san implemented a rigorous vetting process to work in any position on the crew. Recommendations, mentorship networks — because everyone is new to film.

MI: That’s only true to a certain extent. I wouldn’t say most of us are complete newcomers; we’ve all been around the industry for a fair number of years making our careers off it one way or another. We definitely wouldn’t have gotten hired to such prominent roles without Toshinori’s interference, yes. Because of his stipulation, the studio wanted to minimize as much of the havoc inexperience might cause such a beloved, big budget reboot by offering us close, mandatory support networks featuring industry professionals who’ve been working in their field for decades.

So far, the idea has really worked out well. We get to implement fun new ideas we don’t realize are impossible yet, and the mentors temper our more […] impractical ideas with logic and experience. The cast also has gotten a lot of support from the old cast of the '80s run!

TT: You’re known for being an advocate for quirkless rights in the entertainment industry. Has that impacted the way you approach your career and what opportunities you take?

MI: It isn’t just the entertainment industry I’m interested in for my advocacy work. Society’s rabid obsession with quirks is a problem across all of Japan, for both the quirkless and those with quirks. But as an actor, I happen to have personal insight with the roadblocks that prevent quirkless individuals from succeeding in film. We make up a fourth of the Japanese population, but less than 1% of the Japanese Film Union, in the mere century from when quirks first showed up across the globe. There’s no other explanation for such a miserly diversity rate than discrimination.

Studios have gotten so used to using quirks to sift through application stacks, looking for who can offer the most with just a quirk name and description. Toshinori-san has easily admitted that the electricity he emits when engaging his strength quirk was one of the reasons he won the role of All Might over better known actor Todoroki Enji. It was one less special effect the studio would have to spend money and time on. Viewing accommodation as a costly complication is historically dangerous to all types of minorities across the globe. How am I supposed to compete when people think I can’t offer anything unique compared to the host of wild quirks out there?

TT: Wow, that’s quite the speech.

MI: I’ve practiced a few times.

TT: Really?

MI: Quirk discrimination was my thesis topic at UA.

TT: You went to UA? That didn't show up in my research.

MI: Oh, I […] was in their support program for a while.

TT: Why did you decide to pursue acting instead? They don’t have a fine arts program, do they?

MI: As much as I love support work, it’s a stressful field. [Laughs] I started looking for an outlet that had nothing to do with hero work when an old friend dragged me onto a set. I’d completely forgotten how much I loved acting, and it wasn’t long before I decided to pursue that over support work, for however long it would have me.

TT: Would you ever consider returning to support work?

MI: Yes, but it gets harder the longer you’ve been away. I still keep up my qualifications, and keep up with my old classmates. Some consulting here and there. But for now, I’m happy using my background to help me act a better All Might.

[Photograph of Midoriya Izuku sitting in an office chair, facing three-quarters towards the camera even as he lays half across a desk. The decor is rich: old, dark wooden furniture, ornate work across the frame of the chair and desk, half-filled bookshelves in the background. His cheek rests against his arm stretched along the edge of the deck; one leg is tucked under the seat and the other is extended out. His outfit is artfully ripped name brand jeans and a tight shirt, color blocked in All Might’s classic red, white, and blue. Tiny figurines of All Might in his various costumes across all his comic book and screen appearances dot across his body as if they’ve climbed across his body, and Midoriya is an Atlas holding the weight of these ideals across his shoulders and arms and legs, a Gulliver tied down and overwhelmed. But his expression is vibrant, determined. Not quite a smile, but nowhere near defeated.]

TT: Does it bother you, having your quirklessness constantly be the focus of your career and identity?

MI: Of course! I’m a lot more than the superpower I don’t have. I’m a pretty private person, but I want to do great things. I want to inspire people, to make everyone feel safe and like they belong. If that means I have to feel some discomfort, it’s more than worth it. I’m a big kid with a therapist, so I’m prepared to balance my needs with those of my career.

TT: I’m not helping, am I?

MI: Like I said, I’ve deliberately opened myself up to that focus when I’ve put myself out there as someone willing to talk about these important issues publicly. You’re not asking anything I wouldn’t expect of any good interviewer.

TT: Speaking of privacy, your co-worker Todoroki Shouto is infamous for his taciturn personality and complete seclusion from the public eye, even during personal interviews. What is it like working with him on set?

MI: I have a bone to pick with you journalists about that! Remember what I was saying about how quirk reputations hurt those with strong quirks as much as those without? Todoroki Shouto is a wonderful person, and I’m so glad we get to work together. But boy, that reputation of his does him a disservice. He’s more than just Endeavor’s son and a powerful quirk. […] He’s his own man with a lot to say — it’s just no one’s asked him the right questions, yet. Once you do, you’ll find he shines brighter than any of the characters he’s played. It’s frustrating to see a good man overlooked again and again in favor of easier topics like a flashy quirk and flashy father.

TT: One last question. Isn’t it a hassle to squeeze past those boxes each day to use the front door?

MI: I don’t use the front door.

TT: Then…?

MI: Wouldn’t you like to know? ■

[k-writer1998]

Rebel Hours (6/18)

Kwon Jieun always fit her parents’ image of the “perfect” daughter… at least to their knowledge. Away from prying eyes she was like any other girl living life to the fullest doing what she wants. When a little someone named Bang Chan comes into her life priorities are changed, mistakes are made, and her life finally becomes her own.

Fluff

w.c: 1.9k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

      Before I went to bed last night I reached out to Minhyuk, hoping he didn’t change his number. I wanted to get everything over quickly so that I could face Chan properly. Thankfully luck was on my side and I received a text in the morning. After a few exchanges we agreed to meet the day after in a coffee shop around my university. When it came to the day of, the only thing left to do was to get past mother since father would be in his office most of the day.

“Mom, I’m heading out.”

“Where are you going?”

“I forgot one of my textbooks at the apartment so I’m just going to grab it and head to a cafe to do my homework for a bit.”

      Mother contemplated it for a moment, her eyes examining me up and down. She wasn’t buying it cause I took leave but people can be forgetful, even their perfect daughter. I mean I already have my stuff and this is an excuse but she doesn’t need to know that.

“I know I’m on leave and my professors have given me any extra materials I needed but I just realized I needed my text book for a reading assignment because I didn’t read over that section of the syllabus until today.”

“... Okay. Don’t be late, we have a campaign event at five so be home no later than three on the dot.”

“Yes, mom.” 

      At the train station I stopped at the restroom and entered one of the stalls before quickly taking off my wig and changing my clothes, shoving everything in my backpack. When I stepped out I fixed myself before going to catch my train. I needed to get out of the good girl image for a bit, I’ve been doing it non-stop for almost two weeks now and the wig needed to come off before I lost my mind. As I headed to the cafe I passed by the campus and couldn’t help but think of Chan. Since I’ve started ghosting him, I’ve missed him. I opened my texts and stared at our chat history, a habit I’ve picked up recently, before trying to write a message but nothing sounded right. How am I supposed to say something? I was the one icing him out and he practically knows it. With a sigh I erased the sorry excuse for a message and put my phone away. One step at a time Jieun. My eyes glided over the quaint exterior of my favorite cafe by campus. It was tucked away on a back street and it gave off a very natural vibe with various plants strewn across the shop. As I took a tentative step in, Minhyuk had turned to grab a table when he spotted me and waved me over. He gingerly placed a cup in front of me once I sat.

“I hope you don’t mind, I got you a drink. Don’t know if it’s still your favorite but I got you a mocha with cinnamon and chocolate drizzle.”

“Yeah… it’s still the same, thanks,” I responded softly as a small smile spread across my lips.

“I see you dyed your hair, it looks nice. How do your parents feel about it?”

“They don’t know and that’s how I’m still alive but thanks anyway.”

      We both gave a small chuckle as we took a sip of our drinks, the air growing silent. Taking a moment to prepare myself, I bit the bullet because if I’m going to face my parents soon I’m going to need to get straight to the point.

“You’re probably wondering why I called you out after so many years, aren’t you?”

“A bit but I may know what this is about,” he offered a sympathetic smile.

“I’m pretty sure you weren’t completely in the dark about this but I do want to apologize for everything that happened in our last year of high school.”

“Jieun you don’t have to apologize-”

“I do because all the trouble with the audition and breaking our promise… that was my fault. My parents made a threat back then and I thought it was stupid but when you lost that important competition I realized they weren't kidding and-”

      I didn’t realize how much of my fears and anxiety I had locked away. The words kept spilling from my lips and just wouldn’t stop until Minhyuk cut me off.

“I know… they tried to get me to break up with you before too. I turned down anything they tried to offer me and dismissed their threats."

"You turned them down? I didn't even know they went to you first."

"I did because I think we both thought our love could defeat everything…"

"And that competition was our wake up call… Even though it doesn't mean much now, you really should have won and everyone knew it too."

"It's all in the past. I've won enough competitions to compensate," he chuckled before going back on topic. "Since we're being honest… After the competition, I knew at the time I loved you but I was scared that I couldn't love you fully if I had to live with my future on the line. I'm sorry I know that's one of your fears but I-"

"Minhyuk it's fine we were teenagers whose futures meant everything to them. If anything I should be apologizing cause I'm the one who backed away first and ended our relationship."

"No, you were just the one who had the courage to end it first… for both of our sake. I knew why so I never blamed you so you have nothing to apologize for."

      A moment passed between us before we started to laugh. We sound so ridiculous right now, trying to argue why we were the ones to blame rather than the other. The tension left the air and it was as if we were chatting like old friends.

“So what prompted this impromptu chat? It’s been a few years, I thought it was all in the past for you since you haven’t reached out until now.”

“I thought clearing the air would give me some extra courage when I face my parents.”

“I’m glad you are finally standing up for yourself, but that’s not it is it?”

“How can you tell?”

“I know that look in your eyes, you used to have the same look for me,” he teased.

“Well you caught me… there is someone,” I blushed, a smile making its way onto my face.

“Good, you deserve to be happy.”

“Is there someone else for you too?”

“Yeah, we’ve been dating for a little over a year now.”

“Really? Let me see!”

“Only if you show me your guy,” he laughs.

      I eagerly agreed and pulled up my favorite picture of Chan, the first one I ever took of us. I had different ones but there was something about that one I especially loved. We switched phones and I immediately cooed at the cute couple photo I saw on his screen.

“I see you still have your habit of taking pictures when people aren’t paying attention. Not bad, even though he wasn’t ready for the picture he still looks good. I give him that.”

“And she is the sweetest looking thing. I haven’t met her but if you break her heart I will come after you.”

       We continued to joke and chat a bit more before my phone buzzed. That was my alarm, meaning I have to go back home now, I internally groan. I think I started losing hair from the stress of staying in the house with my parents. 

"I gotta go but If you ever have a performance or competition in town let me know so I can cheer you on, plus I want to meet this girlfriend that has you so whipped," I tease.

"Sure as long as you make this new guy your boyfriend and bring him along too," he shot back.

      We walked out together and before we parted ways he gave me a kiss on the cheek for good luck. After changing yet again in the station’s bathroom stall, I made my way to my platform. On the train I finally had a chance to check my phone and realized I got a text.

To: Princess

Hey how have you been? Still busy with the family stuff?

To: Chan 🖤

Yeah, I’ve been stuck in my hometown helping my mom arrange everything.

To: Princess

Okay, remember to take care of yourself too.

      Something felt off with how he texted… no you must be overthinking it and even if there was could you blame him? You’ve been sending the boy mixed signals, deal with it later and let's prepare for the stupid shitshow of a gala in a few days. Since school has started my parents have been trying to match me with some son of a CEO friend or something, Jeon Kyunghoon. I screened over those parts of our conversations especially once Chan officially came into the picture three weeks later. Yet regardless of my uninterest toward the subject they still continued with the match up anyways. What's worse is that I’ve seen Kyunghoon at other functions and Seunghee and I had purposefully avoided him because he seemed like a narcissist. Now I'm forced to go spend the gala with him, the only good part is that the Seung-siblings will be there too. That means if needed Seunghee, and to a lesser extent Seungmin, can save me if he is just as slimy as he seems.

      Waking up the day of the gala, I already had a bad feeling. Looking on the bright side though this gala marks the end of my leave and the end of my stay at my parents' house. The day was cleared so we could prepare for the gala, a bit excessive I thought but with a mother like mine you can never have too much time. I wasn’t like my mother so I waited until a few hours before we left to get ready. I changed into my white knee-length off-the-shoulder dress that had a black lace bodice and sleeves, with the lace slightly spilling into the top half of the skirt. I lightly curled my hair before doing my makeup and by the time father called us to leave, I had just slipped on my heels. In response to the bad feeling I had woken up with, the news warned of a strong chance of rain as the sky was painted a dull grey. 

      Once we checked our coats in we walked into the grand ballroom which was decorated like a castle with a red carpet flowing from the entrance to delicate gold decorations adorning the walls. Before I had to make my rounds with my parents,  and inevitably meet Kyunghoon, I spotted Seunghee. She was in a stunning nude mermaid-style floor length gown with white lace that went from the bottom of the skirt, up. As I approached her I couldn't help but comment with a smile.

"You look amazing! But this was definitely not planned."

"And this is why we're best friends," she laughs, "cause we know what's up and occasionally accidentally match too."

      We hugged each other as I returned her laugh before turning and greeting Seungmin who both looked like he was in his element but also looked like he was hating every minute of it. Before we could talk much my mother called me to come make our rounds.

"God wish me luck. I’m meeting the Kyunghoon guy my parents have been going on about."

"Ewww slimy Kyunghoon?"

"Yeah he’s a friend's son," I roll my eyes.

"Drop an SOS if you need me to get you out of there."

      She winked at me and I forced a smile that caused her to snicker. I replied with a mock salute before reluctantly heading back to my parents.

[make-me-imagine]

Hey hope you're good! Can I get a HP and LOTR ship please? Any prompt! I’m a 5'7 girl, a Taurus, ENTP, Slytherin, and doing an English degree! I have curly, blonde, shoulder length hair with hazel eyes. I usually wear natural makeup and my style is sort of bohemian. I'm extremely outgoing and can talk to pretty much anyone, love reading and am (obnoxiously) loud and hedonistic at times. You can usually find me outside annoying my friends, and would love to be a writer :)) ❤️

Ships are now CLOSED

-

I hope you like the prompts I chose! :) and I hope you wanted male ships as you did not mention otherwise. 

Harry Potter: 

I ship you with Ron. You had become friends during your third year, and it wasn’t until your fifth year that you finally started dating. One of the main things that made him aware of your presence, was how outgoing you were. There were tons of people from every house who knew you and got along with you. He was almost astounded by this, and it even made him a bit jealous. You ended up running into him, Harry and Hermione, and they were all surprised at how nice you were (because Slytherin stereotypes). You befriended all of them, and you and Ron got on so well that he took you to meet his parents. They knew you’d start dating at some point, they just wondered when. Anyway. Ron also LOVES your style and finds you super cute, and is basically a simp for you honestly. 

Prompt #16: Out in the Snow

You walked hand in hand in silence down a nearby field, the snow was falling gracefully as you stared up at the cloudy sky. Things were beginning to get harder to deal with, the whole Wizarding World was beginning to fall apart, at least that’s what it felt like to many of you.

The second you got chance, Ron suggested you go for a walk, you didn’t hesitate, even though it was snowing.

All you could hear was the sound of your footsteps crunching through the snow as you found an old brick wall to sit on. You took a deep breath as you and Ron sat in silence a little longer. 

“Thank’s for suggesting this. It’s good to get out every once and a while”

He nodded “Yeah, I know” he paused for a moment “Um, I also wanted to talk to you about something”

You looked over at him, your heartbeat picking up as you saw the serious look on his face “What is it Ron?”

“I uh..because of how everything is becoming, I was wondering...if you wanted to come stay with me. I mean us. Uh, over Christmas break. My mum already said she’s set up a room for you” he glanced over at you shyly, trying to read your expression. “Obviously, you don’t have to stay, maybe you could just come for a few days or something”

You smiled as you squeezed his hand “I’d love to stay with you Ron”

He looked over at you “Really?”

“Yeah! My family is planning a trip, but I didn’t really fancy on going this year. I think I would prefer to stay with your family actually” 

“Great!” he cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed by how excited he sounded “I’ll send my mum a letter telling her, I’m sure she’ll be excited”

You leaned your head on his shoulder, a small chill shivering up your spine, signalling his to wrap his arms around you “I also...just want to make sure you’re safe, during, well, everything that’s been happening, I’d feel better knowing you were with me and my family”

You smiled lightly as you stared out at the snowy school grounds “I’d feel safer with you anyways”

LOTR: 

I ship you with Legolas. Legolas is kind of quiet, so your loud-ness caught him off guard, but he also admires it and kind of wishes he could be the same, as he often comes off as distant. He also admires and is a bit jealous of your ability to get along with anyone. You and Legolas often spend a lot of time outside together, adventuring in the woods. He taught you to fire a bow/arrow, and you have him advice on how to befriend more people. Legolas is very encouraging and often compliments your writing skills and encourages you to put it out into the world. 

Prompt 22: Road Trip (sort of??)

(Also I completely made these places up - if it wasn’t obvious lol)

“Soo, where are we going?” you asked curiously as Legolas strapped another bag onto the horse’s saddle.

“I told you it’s a surprise” he said simply, sparing you a small smile.

Legolas knew that you had been extremely busy, mostly due to his father. And he knew you needed a break. So a few mornings ago he abruptly told you he got permission from his father - after quite some convincing - to give you some time off. And in this time, he was going to take you somewhere. 

“Oh come on Legolas, at least give me a hint”

“We will camp for three nights and arrive on the fourth day”

“Hmm” you hummed, trying to think of locations nearby

He smiled “You won’t be able to figure it out. This place has no name, and is on no maps”

You rose a brow at his statement “Sounds exciting” you beamed as he smiled fondly at you, glad you were excited.

The three day horse ride seemed to pass by rather quickly. Even will all of the pit stops you made along the way. 

You spent each night in a different type of location. First, you slept in a clearing by a field of golden wheat. When the sun set and shone on the wheat, it looked like a lake of molten gold.

The second night you stopped in a thin forest, sleeping nearby a small stream. In the night, a herd of deer came through to get some water. A small foal approached you and Legolas, curious as to what you were. 

On the third night, you slept on a cliff, the view below being a large field of wildflowers. You took a walk through them during sunset, picking unique ones to later press in a notebook. 

To pass the time during each of these evenings, you lied together, you writing or reading, and Legolas starring at the sky, playing with your hair. And every night, he would sing you elvish songs to lull you to sleep. 

During the fourth and final day of travel, as you made your way up a hill Legolas turned his head slightly to talk to you “We will be there once we make this hill”

You watched fervently as the top grew closer and closer. Once the view on the other side came into view, your mouth almost dropped open.

Down the hill you see a small thin forest, in the middle a large beautiful lake. Around it, littered small cottages and houses. You could see horses and cows roaming some fields, a few farmers cutting wheat. 

“Where are we?” you asked, staring down at the small hamlet

“A small town called Mallorn it used to house only elves, but over the years the elves left, and humans moved in. The last time I was here was about twelve years ago. The people that live here are very kind and hospitable. I have rented one of the empty cottages for a week for us.”

You smiled widely, excited to finally have a break from recent events that had been keeping you busy, as well as to spend time with Legolas. You leaned forward pressing a soft kiss to his cheek in thanks.

** Mallorn is Noldorin for ‘Gold Tree’ (elfdict.com)

****EDITED: I am so sorry! I forgot to add stuff to your actual ship I am so sorry!!! I’ve added it now!!

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

A Family of Five- Part 6: Ready

Calum and Harlowe’s marriage hasn’t always been easy, but it has always been filled with love. This is a collaborative experience with In Sorrow and In Joy. Dad!Calum. Black OC.

CW: Over the course of this series, there are mentions of pregnancy, therapy, and postpartum depression. There is also 18+ Content (Smut)

Enjoy my masterlist | Series Masterlist

Support me on kofi

No one has my permission to repost my work of fiction. This includes translations as well. 

_____________________________________________

Luke finishes the last of the dishes. Noor’s at the bar, reading over her lines before the bus. Zahara dangles the keys to her car on her finger, waiting for Zeek to grab the charger for his tablet from his room. The house is quiet. He finds himself wondering how long that it will last. The question is answered a minute later when a shout rings out, “Babe!”

“There goes the silence,” he chuckles, wiping hands on the dish rag. “Yeah?” he calls out, taking the stairs two at a time to the bedroom. 

You turn around, dressed in black jeans and your pajama shirt. “Where’s that heart button up shirt?”

“That’s actually Calum’s shirt,” he grins leaning up against the frame of the door. 

A groan falls over your lips. Out of habit, you reach up and fix the bun of your curly hair and mutter to yourself. Of course, your favorite shirt to steal wasn’t actually Luke’s. He probably took it from Calum’s case on their last tour, last year, and only just recently realized that it didn’t belong in your closet. You could go without the shirt. But it annoys the crap out of you, that you couldn’t finish the outfit that you had been planning for days now for the first day back to school. 

“Now that I think about it. That’s definitely his t-shirt too. Forgot to give it back,” Luke states. 

You look down at the gray t-shirt covering your body. “So, you’re telling me, Harlowe’s gonna call asking for this shirt eventually.”

He shrugs. “Only if she knows the shirt is gone.”

You roll your eyes, peeling off the shirt and stealing inside the blue button up of Luke’s. “Honesty, one of these days y’all need to go through your closets and figure this shit out.” You’ll call Harlowe. She’ll know where that heart button up is. And more importantly, she’ll be willing to trade. 

“You and Harlowe end up stealing stuff from us!” he laughs. “It’s not all our fault.”

“Shush, I said that you two need to figure out what belongs to who and then she and I can figure out what’s up for trading and what has to stay. You didn’t let me finish.” Tossing the shirt at Luke, you laugh a little at his flail, startled by the action. “Start a load of laundry please. Use the kid’s detergent. Harlowe’s skin is sensitive.”

“For one shirt?” he jokes, his high pitched shout cracking a little on the the word ‘one’. “I’ll at least wash some of the kids stuff too.”

“That’s the idea!” you shout to his retreating figure. With the last of the shirt buttoned, you pick up your phone. As you open to your recent messages, Harlowe’s name is right at the top. 

The phone rings twice before you can hear her shouting in the background. “Esha, it doesn’t even take me this long to put a face on in the morning, c’mon. You’re beautiful and I will fight anyone that says otherwise.”

Calum’s laughter filters in from the background before his voice fills the line. “You’ve reached Harlowe’s phone. She’s currently helping Esha figure out mascara. Can I take a message?”

“She’s really letting Esha wear makeup to school, huh?” you ask. The debate on whether Esha could wear makeup to school was definitely a long one. You remembered just a couple months ago when it first started, during the summer. Harlowe and Calum feared she’d go off the deep in, but didn’t want her to feel like she couldn’t explore in the world of make up or self expression. You just had no idea that they had agreed on anything yet. Granted, you all kept up well, some things inevitably would fall through the cracks. Between getting syllabi together and raising kids, some news unfortunately fell to the waste side. 

“It was a long battle. We agreed to mascara and lipstick. Nude lipstick though. Specifically a nude lipstick.”

You nod. “Sounds like a smart choice.” 

More laughter floats in from the background. “Keep looking up, you’re not going to poke yourself I promise,” Harlowe chuckles.

“But I could!” Esha retorts. “This is scary.”

“So,” Calum says, “I know you called for a reason.”

“I was trying to see if a certain item of clothing could be up for trades. It appears that I, really Luke, but by extension me as well, have a certain t-shirt that belongs to you. And a certain heart button up shirt was not Luke’s, which is disheartening.”

“The gray one with Conway studios on it?”

“That’s the one.”

“She was looking for that last night. Hold on second.” There’s muffled talking in the background. “So, while Harlowe’s sad about losing the heart button up, she’s willing to trade.”

“It’s your shirt, technically.”

Calum laughs. “She has taken my closet. Nothing is mine anymore except my shoes. If she could wear those, she’d probably take them too. Like right now, she’s in my green plaid pants. It’s a great outfit, but I was the one that pulled the pants down this morning.”

“You’re going to the studio! You know you would’ve opted for jeans anyway,” Harlowe bellows.

“I would’ve at least like the option, baby. At least give me the option.” There’s a shuffling sound and Harlowe finally speaks.

“Ignore him, girl. He’s just pissy this morning.”

“So tonight we’ll trade shirts. I had this whole first day look planned, but of course, the shirt I wanted, wasn’t Luke’s shirt.

“Okay, normal table. I’ll see you then.”

__

Even before opening the door, you know what the place smells like, sounds like. You and Harlowe have been coming here every Wednesday before the twins were born. It’s ritual to walk in, hearing the clack of pool balls on the smooth red velvet and a white buzz of voices. It’s ritual to smell beer, but also the famous cheese fries cooking in the back. The place is old, but it somehow feels right. No, this wasn’t always your cup of tea. But Harlowe fell in love with the place, her second collection of poetry was birthed here. So on Wednesdays, this is where you two sat, chatting about the week previous, the week ahead. Talking about husbands, and kids. Talking about students and universities. You two worked at different schools. You do this for cheese fries, the laughs, the gossip. But more importantly, you do this for her, because she needed something to look forward to after the post partum depression from Esha. 

Inside, you spot her afro at the bar, “the normal table.” “If that’s a virgin rum and ginger ale, today was fine. But it’s a virgin Caribbean Rum Punch, someone’s trying to fuck themselves up,” you laugh, sliding into the bar stool next to Harlowe. 

She laughs, slinging an arm across your shoulders, resting her head for a moment onto your shoulder. “Yo got me. Just ginger ale. How were your classes?” She straightens, pulling her arm away. 

“There’s a freshman in my 300 level class. The fear was real in there eyes, looking at the syllabus.”

“How did they get into that class?”

You shrug. “No one asked for an override into class. My assumption is that they thought they were hot shit and signed up.”

“Didn’t even check RateMyProfessor, I bet,” Harlowe grins, flagging down a bartender.

The man walks over with an easy grin, closing his eyes and taking a deep breathe. “Let me guess.You’re going to order a plate of cheese fries. Ranch dipping on the side.”

“It’s like we’re regulars or something,” Harlow laughs. 

“Or something,” he chuckles, then turns to put the order in. 

“Well not all of us teach poetry and fiction. Some of us have to have reading lists a mile long,” you counter. 

Her laugh fills the room practically. “You make the syllabus. It does not have to be a mile long. You clearly just like suffering and taking your students down with you.”

Feigning shock, you gasps, turning around. “I don’t need this kind of negativity in my life.”

She chuckles, watching you. “Go ahead then. Run from the truth. But who’s the one that complains everything you have to reread those sections--you.”

“I cannot believe you’d read me like that in this here fine establishment.” This causes both of you to laugh, Harlowe falling into you a little, her laughter bouncing around in your eardrum. “How were your classes?”

With a smile resting on her face, she leans onto her elbows, toying at the glass. “Good. One girl came up to me after class and said she had signed up specifically for my section of poetry workshop because I was the only Black professor. Like I know this isn’t Kansas, to use a really dated expression, anymore. Like I know this isn’t the States, but it still means a lot be there for someone that needs it.”

“When’s your Fiction workshop?”

“Tomorrow. I’m teaching that in the morning and then the second section of intro to creative writing in the afternoon.”

“Must be nice,” you tease. 

Harlowe barks a laugh. “I’m not the one that spent years getting their Ph.D. in History, only to bitch about being the exact thing they wanted to be. So yeah, it is nice to enjoy my job.” Both woman laugh and the steaming bucket of fries is placed between them. Two glasses of water also thuds against the worn wooden counter. 

“How are my babies though?” There’s something in the way she asks that. You watch her face as she rummages into the depths of her bag. You catch nothing on her face. She pulls out the black button up and hands it over to you. You wipe your hands on a napkin and find the soft gray cotton in your backpack. You guys trade shirts.

“My babies are good.”

Harlowe huffs, biting hard into the fried potato. “Oh hush, I’m their aunt. They are effectively my children too.”

“What do you know that I don’t know?”

Harlowe shakes her head, reaching for her drink. “If I tell you, I break code.”

“It’s irksome that you know things before me,” you sigh. But you respect it. Your kids and Harlowe have a code. Though you desperately wish you weren’t always the last one to know about things, you understood. Sometimes the kids wanted to handle stuff by themselves, they didn’t want to always come to you or Luke. They maybe felt embarrassed having to go to their parents about everything. 

“They know they can talk to you, girl. They know.”

“I’m just the last to know. I feel so left out.”

“If you think Te Koha, Esha or even Nikau even tell me everything, you’re wrong.” Harlowe downs the her glass. “Children will not tell parents everything. Did you tell your mom everything?”

“Hell no.”

“Exactly my point.”

The first plate of fries is just about empty. Harlowe’s ordered a second drink when a presence slides up to the left of you. The cologne is familiar. As you giggle at Harlowe’s story about the disaster at the printer today before her class, you feel Luke’s hand resting gently on your lower back. You wondered when they would come up. When you walked in, you made a beeline for Harlow at the bar. Luke went to the table Calum had on the floor somewhere. You guys always do this. Split up, just for a little bit to have a little time away from each other. To talk all the junk you couldn’t do when your spouse was right there. It was always nice to have these moments away, to yourself, to be quiet and listen to Harlowe dramatically retell her adventures of the day or week. 

Her story finishes, an exasperated sigh falling over her lips before he speaks. “Can I get a pretty girl like you a drink?”

With an eye roll, you gently press into his chest for a quick hug. “Buy us another round of fries, and then we’ll talk.”

He laughs, palm brushing up and down your satin covered back. “Sounds reasonable.” 

“Ranch on the side for my friend here,” you add on, gently tapping his chest. 

“Please,” Harlowe adds, batting her eyelashes. 

“I’m right here,” Calum laughs, settling down next to her. 

“Are you buying me french fries?” she shoots back, resting her head into his chest. 

His arm wraps around her, almost protectively. “I’m the one you go home with.”

She reaches up, tapping the end of his nose with her finger. They’ve always been way more affectionate. You pretend to gag, before burying your face into your glass of water. She just buries herself deeper into him before raising her middle finger to you. “That’s rude!” Luke interjects, voice turning up into a laugh. 

As the second and third, due to Calum’s ordering, basket of fries comes out. It feels like old times, like being twenty three again during the summer before your second year for your Master’s program. When you forced Harlowe to get up on that dinky stage and read her poems. When Calum and Luke approached the two of you at the end of the night. It feels like you’ve got nothing but time, nothing by belly laughs and Harlowe and Calum’s antic, the lovingly nagging, the teases, you and Luke’s quiet moments, whispers. It’s nothing but being twenty three again. 

Until a phone chimes. The time of youth is over. You finish off the last few fries, cleaning off your fingers. Luke’s hand slides into yours. It’s Harlowe’s phone and she sighs. “Gotta get back to relieve Te Koha of babysitting duties,” she mutters. 

Calum leans in close to her, “Can I come home with you?” He’s only a few beers in this evening. Nowhere near as far as he can go.

“Hmm,” Harlowe chuckles, nails dragging under his chin, “Depends on how well you handle three kid.”

“Some might say I’m an expert,” he laughs. 

“An expert in making them,” Luke jokes, with a whistle. 

“That’s all you,” Calum teases. “Some of us made the choice a lot time ago to shoot blanks.”

“We are not having this discussion right here,” you interject. 

Harlowe pushes on Calum’s shoulder, to get him walking towards the door. She digs into his jacket pocket, retrieving the kids. “I’ll talk to you probably in an hour,” she laughs. “Good luck, getting your drunk giant home.”

“Do not remind me,” you call before adding, “Love you.”

She shouts over her shoulder. “Love you too. I covered half the bill.”

“I covered half,” Calum corrects loudly. 

“Will you be quiet and walk you drunk piece of man. Let’s go. Kids. Kids. We gotta get to our kids.”

You drive the two of you back. Luke hums quietly along to the radio for a while. His leg bounce. You watch him at a red light. “What’s up?” you ask, pressing your palm into his denim-cladded thigh. 

“Do you know what’s up with Ra?”

You had noticed she was way more quiet than usual. This is whatever Harlowe knew but you did. Luke continues, his voice panicked. “I tried asking her what was up, but she wouldn’t budge. I’m not sure if you know.”

“I don’t know either.”

His sigh is heavy. You can imagine his fingers carding through his hair as the stress settles onto his forehead. “Is it college stress? Boy trouble? If it’s boy trouble, I’m kicking someone’s ass,” he murmurs. 

“Call Harlowe too.”

Luke chuckles, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Yeah, I can’t forget her. What do you think it is?”

You don’t even want to try and think about that, what darkness is potentially overcoming your baby girl. Your grip on the steering wheel tightens. You’d go through hell and back for your kids. Sure you weren’t always the most affectionate person, but you’d be damned if your kids were going through some shit and didn’t at least know you were in their corner for them. The rest of the drive you and Luke try not to envision all the terrible scenarios. Had someone hurt her? Touched her the wrong way? Was she failing a class? Did something happen to a friend? Did she think that you and Luke weren’t there for her anymore?

With the car parked in the driveway, you two climb out of the car and share a concerned glance before walking inside. Ra’s chilling on the couch, Noor passed out in her lap, the TV’s on. It’s not barely nine. “You’re free of being pretend mom,” Luke says softly. 

Ra looks up with a small smile. “How were drinks?”

“Good. Anything happen here?” you asks.

“If it had, trust I would’ve called. After you guys left after dinner, we all finished up some homework. Or rather they finished up, and then Zeek showered and start drawing. Noor and I watched some TV. She had those physical fitness test today, so she’s pretty exhausted I guess.”

Luke nod, kissing both their foreheads. “We’ve got her. Finish up that work, yeah?”

Ra nods. “How many pints, Dad?” she laughs. 

He shakes his head. “Hush. Only a few more months and then I’ll take you out.”

“Oh, God, please spare me that embarrassment.”

“Okay, so Auntie Harlowe can take you out on my dime, how about that?”

She grins. “Now you’re talking.”

Luke pulls her in for one last hug, kissing her hair. “Go finish your work, missy.”

As Ra ascends the stairs, you wait until she reaches the first landing before stopping her, a gentle hand on her back. “Hey,” you start, looking into her eyes. The twinkle is gone. She looks tired. “You know I’m here right, for you. Both your dad and I are. You can tell us anything.”

She nods, lips pursing close. “I know. Thanks, Mum. Got a paper to finish though.” She lifts her thumb over her shoulder to the stairs, to her room, to her escape. You nod. She turns and takes them two at a time. She’s not ready. You can’t force her. 

It’s another two weeks. Zahra walks in through the door behind Noor and Zeek, closing the door behind her. “Hey guys,” you call out, tending over the pot of pasta. 

Zeek kisses your cheek and Noor buries herself in a giant hug. Ra doesn’t round the corner. You peek around and see her leaning against the glass, hands covering her face. Her shoulders shake once, twice. She’s crying. Before you can set yourself in motion towards her, she throws herself into you, tears staining her cheek, streaking her make-up. “Fuck,” she whimpers, shaking against you. 

Your heart thunders in your chest. “Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay.” Part of you is frozen. What the hell is happening? But the other part is ready to fix whatever it is. Whatever is heavy in her soul. “Talk--talk to me, baby. I’m right here,” you attempt to soothe. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I know,” she hiccups. “I know emotions are totally not our thing. But god, I’m so tired of holding this in anymore.”

The two of you stand there, you rubbing at her back and she sobs into your skin, her tears feeling like fire. What else could you have done to get her to open up sooner? What else could you have said? “You’re ready now,” you whisper. “It’s okay.”

It takes a few minutes for Zahra to collect herself. Her cheeks are streak a little. But she takes a deep breathe. “Did my mascara run?”

You shake your head, a smile cracking through the fear. “No. Told you that shit would hold.”

She laughs. The two of you head into the kitchen, you hand her some tissues. She’s much taller than you, taking her height from Luke. You have to look up at her a little. Rubbing her arms, you find yourself at lost for words. Wait until she’s ready, you think to yourself. Wait until she’s ready. Zeek hands her a glass of water. “Your face didn’t melt too bad.”

“Thanks,” Ra mutters, taking a sip. “And you’re still a pain in my butt.”

“I’m the best pain,” he smiles, hugging her. 

“Can I talk to you and Dad, when he gets here?” Ra says quietly behind her glass. 

You nod. “Of course.”

Luke arrives home about an hour later. Just as dinner is finished. He immediately notes the pink to Zahra’s face and flashes you a look. You respond with a gesture of your hand, telling him to wait, to not jump the gun. But Zahra knows when her hug is a few seconds longer than usual. Dinner goes by nicely, though Zeek does make one comment, “So we’re not going to discuss the emotional breakdown or?”

“Shove your mouth with pasta or there’s gonna be another breakdown and not from me,” Ra smiles. 

Zeek huffs, “No need to take my head off, okay?”

Noor reaches over, holding Ra’s hand, while shoveling more food onto her fork. “Some of us know our manners,” she quips. 

Luke and you try to swallow the snickers. Your children did learn from the best. Zeek and Noor get excused from the table. You know the kitchen’s a mess but that can wait. Zahra looks up from her empty plate. “So, like, what if I said I wasn’t sure I was straight?” she asks all in one breathe. 

You blink for a second, all the air rushing out of your lungs, before you smile. “I would say I’m very happy you told me.”

She looks to Luke. He takes her hand between his palms. “I would say that I love you no matter what. Straight or not, you’re still my daughter and I love you dearly. And it’s mighty brave of you to admit that.”

Zahra blinks rapidly, eyes welling up again. “It’s--” her voice is thick, she takes a moment. “It’s strange. To always have known something was different with me. Not just skin color or religion. But like something different. I don’t have a label for it. And I tried to push it down, ya know? Not think about it amongst all the college application deadlines, and dances, and school work mixed in with my job. I just….it’s been too long for me not to say something.”

You hand her a napkin. She dabs under her eyes. “You don’t need a label, sweetie. You don’t have to be afraid of us. We will always love you.”

“Always?” she questions. 

“Of course,” you and Luke chorus. 

“So, on top of that, I also don’t think artsy is my thing, Dad. I like the idea of Med school.”

Luke grins, placing one hand over his heart, faking a groan of pain. “I still got two more shoots at one of my kids turning to the arts.”

Zahra laughs looking over to you. “Every Brown parent’s dream, isn’t it?”

You nod, laughter bursting out of you. “Maybe just a little bit. I don’t care what you do, just as long as you love it, sweetheart.”

“That’s really a one two punch,” Luke jokes, later as the three of you clean the kitchen. “Really breaking your old man’s heart.”

You slap his bicep. “Now’s not the time.”

Zahra hugs him though from behind, cheek squished by his back. “I figured if you guys could handle me being a giant question mark in the sexuality department then maybe changing from arts to sciences would be easier to swallow.”

Luke turns in her embrace, wrapping her up tightly. “Yeah, a good way to deliver the news.” You let your cheeks lift, watching Zahra happily rests in her father’s arms for a beat or two longer before going back to putting the dishes up. It’s no longer heaviness in her shoulders, she no longer drags. That makes you happy.

Not even two hours later though, there’s a knock at the door. Luke answers it, his laughter erupting from him. You watch as Harlowe comes barreling down the entryway, a rainbow flag in her hands. She wraps Ra up in as she hugs her, rocking them both side to side. “Welcome to the club!” Harlowe laughs. 

Calum, Te Koha, Esha and Nikau follow in slowly behind her. If you had to equate the two of you to weather, Harlowe is a hurricane and your just the run of the mill thunderstorms. But you wouldn’t have her any other way. Esha walks over, prying her mother away from her life long friend. “So, we’re going to pride together or what?” Esha jokes, giving Zahra a hug. Esha has been out as pan for a year now. Calum and Harlowe took her to a few pride events since then. 

Ra laughs, “Yeah, yeah I guess we can.”

Te Koha steps dish out a hug too. “That’s very brave and you. I’m proud,” he says quietly. Zahra and him are in the same boat, not straight, not gay, just questions, just queer. Te Koha has not said anything. She hopes this pushes him. You watch their silent conversation before Nikau hugs her too and it ends. 

“Momma brought you cake,” Nik informs to Ra. 

She laughs. “Of course, you did Auntie Harlowe. Only you.”

“I’ve been quiet for weeks! Weeks, I told you i would not say anything until you came out. But I hope you’re ready because now, I’m not holding back!” Harlowe laughs, walking into the kitchen. That’s when it comes evident that her rainbow clips are holding back her two-strand twists from her face. You laugh at the detail, but happily take the slice of cake she hands you. 

“Thank you,” you say to Harlowe as the kids chat in the background. Ra’s still wearing the flag. “Thank you for being there for her.”

“It’s what I’m here for. I do not take the title aunt loosely.”

“Clearly,” you mutter, motion to the cake and the flag. “You make that abundantly clear.”

[avengerswillreturn]

Shuri x Mj

Shuri x Mj: Keeping Secrets 

Part: 1/2 ( If you want a part 2)

Plot: Peter notices somethings up with Mj and calls in backup.

Warnings: Abuse, angsty stuff, fluff

Thanks to my brain for doing the write!

Peter and Mj have known each other for years. Not technically friends until recently, but Peter knows Mj well enough to know she's lying.

About a week ago, Mj raised her hand during class and Peter saw a bruise on her wrist peeking out under her sweater. During gym, she stretched upwards and her shirt pulled up, showing a larger bruise on her side. After school, he tried to ask about it, thinking it was from something like she fell skateboarding, but after she dodged his question and pretended to not know what he was talking about, he worried it wasn't.

He kept a close eye on her and how she acted the next few days, but the past 3 days, she hasn't been to school. She has always had nearly perfect attendance or would at least let the Academic Decathlon team know she wouldn't be at the meeting. Ned hadn't heard anything either, so they both just hoped to see her Monday. Walking into the school they spotted her at her locker Monday morning. She was getting a book from her locker and looked exhausted. She also seemed to be wearing makeup, which is unusual.

"Hey, where have you been?" Peter said softly as he walked up to her. He tried to act casual. "Everything okay?"

"Yea, everything's fine," she replied sternly but forced a smile. "I got sick last week."

"Okay, well I'm here if you need me," he assured. Leaning against the locker next to hers.

"Thanks, but I'm good," she said as she took another book from her locker, shut it, and turned to walk off.

"Hey, wait," he tried to call after her, but she kept going. Later he told Ned what she said and he seemed to believe it.

Peter saw her the next day. "Hey, Mj," he tried to stop her. She kept walking so he grabbed her arm, which caused her to wince and pull away.

"Ah I'm sorry," he said, immediately letting go over her. She looked almost scared. Which is different for her.

"It's okay," Mj said shakily. "What do you need?"

"I need to know what's going on," Peter explained, "You're not acting yourself."

"I'm just stressed from midterms, that's all."

"Alright. Okay," he replied. With that, they walked away, but Peter couldn't help but worry.

Later that evening, he had a video chat with his friend from Wakanda, Shuri. They had met when Tony brought Peter on a trip over. What should've been an educational trip, turned into a fun adventure when he met Shuri and they goofed off the whole time. There may or may not be a whole YouTube channel dedicated to recreating vines with the Dora Milaje.

Shuri could tell something was off. Peter trusted her enough to let her in on what he worries is going on with Mj. She agreed that it is reasonable to think something bad and that he needs to let her know he's there and encourage her to talk to him or someone. Spring break is next week and Peter is worried about her being home alone.

Shuri decided that since she isn't too busy, she can come to NYC to help Peter out with this. Maybe she could help somehow. Friday came around and Shuri arrived in town. She and Nakia got a place set up to stay for the spring break. While they were there, Nakia could check up on the Wakandan Outreach Center.

Peter invited Mj over Saturday to meet Shuri and she seemed pretty excited to do so after hearing so much about her. Once Mj arrived, Peter shot Shuri worried glances when Mj didn't take off her hoodie inside their warm apartment.

They got to talking and forgot all about what had been going on before. Mj was laughing along with them and Peter even saw her smile and blush when Shuri complimented her hair. Peter could see Shuri do the same when Mj was amazed at her bracelet projector and called her brilliant. Shuri told Mj about the things they do in Wakanda and said maybe she could come over with Peter for a visit.

Apparently, Mj forgot as well because she rolled up her sleeves when she went to wash the paint off her hands from a project they were designing. She had bruises and marks trailing up her arms. They were all laughing about a video Shuri played of T'challa when it all went silent.

"It's getting late I should probably head home. Thank you, tonight was a lot of fun," she said as she hurried out the door, sending a soft smile towards Shuri as she left.

"Wait, Mj!" Peter tried to call out, but she left anyway. He and Shuri stood there for a minute, not knowing what to do.

Mj hurried home. That was an excuse to leave of course, But at the same time, it's past curfew and she knew she would be in a load of trouble.

Once she got home, Mj tried to slowly creep in and get to her room, but her dad caught her. He was furious and accused her of being out with a boy all night. She tried to say she was at the library, but he didn't want to hear it. He slapped her a crossed the face, pushed her on the ground, and yelled at her to bring him a drink while slumping into the couch.  Mj carefully got up, brought him his drink, and hurried back to her room as he yelled at her to get out of his face and never be late again.

The next day, Peter messaged Mj and said Shuri would be in town all week if she wanted to hang out again sometime. She decided she couldn't dodge them forever and went back that afternoon. They tried to act like the night before hadn't ended the way it did, but Shuri couldn't help but ask about it when Peter left to make snacks.

"Hey, so I know you don't want to talk about it right now, but if you ever do, here's my contact information," Shuri said, handing Mj a paper. "Or if you ever just want to hang out alone." Shuri winked. Which prompted a small smile from Mj.

"Thank you," she replied softly.

Mj eventually went home again and Shuri told Peter what happened. Peter and Shuri had a sleepover that night. They planned to stay up late watching Netflix but didn't expect Mj to knock on the door at 1 in the morning, soaked from the rain and shaken up.

When Mj got home, she must've been two seconds too late because just like that, a glass bottle smashing against her arm and her dad had the collar of her shirt in his fist. He threw her around and screamed at her. She feared for her life, so as soon as he left the room, she ran.

Shuri pulled Mj into the bathroom to help her change and get cleaned up while Peter explains what's going on to a confused Aunt May.

Shuri sat Mj down in the bathroom and had her change into dry clothes. She started cleaning up her wounds gently.

"Love, what happened?" Shuri asked softly as she wet a washcloth and sat down in front of her on the floor.

"He uh, he was upset I came home late again," Mj said, staring off. "He'd been drinking too."

"He? Is this your father?" Shuri asked, cleaning off a gash in her arm, which caused her to wince. "Ooo sorry."

"Yeahh uhm, he -he kinda gets angry when I'm out late or do something wrong I guess, which I guess...I do a lot." Mj sighed.

"Hey," Shuri said looking up, "this isn't your fault." Mj just looks away. Tears threatening her eyes. After Shuri finishes cleaning her up, she sits with her on the bathroom floor in silence with one arm gently around her. Mj calms down and they go out to meet Peter and May.

"I'm sorry to bother you guys, I just didn't know where else to go," Mj said nervously.

"It's okay you're always welcome here, dear," May said softly.

"Thanks." Mj looked down.

"You are welcome to stay with Nakia and I in our place for the week," Shuri suggested to Mj. "If you'd like."

"What about my dad?" Mj looked around to the three. "He would be furious if I was gone for a week. I'd never be able to go home."

"We'll figure that out together. Don't worry about it. You guys go relax for now." May told them.

Peter, Shuri, and Mj nodded and went back to Peter's room. Peter snatched some snacks from the kitchen, worried Mj may not have been able to eat anything. They watched Netflix and ate for a few hours until they all fell asleep, piled under a blanket fort together.

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

Note: I’m rusty writing about abuse stuff, so if I have any inaccuracies, please help me fix them.  Hope you enjoy! I have been so busy lately, this one has been in the works for months probably. Let me know if you want a part 2. It will have more Shuri and Mj fluff.

[deakydeaky]

hi could I get a Ben hardy hc. something about reader being nervous and not sure about dating Ben bc he dated his ex for 9 years. like how long would Ben wait before trying a relationship again. that kinda stuff. please and thank u!!

(A/N; More Ben! Lovely! I’m gonna say for this HC that it’s been only a few months, at first, but when you get into reading it it’s been longer as it goes! xx)

You were hanging out with your friend Rami one day when he got called into set, they all did. It wasn’t for anything big, just to clear some things up, so he brought you along

He also wanted you to meet his friends

“I hope you’re not replacing me.” You told him at one point when all he did was talk about them

You’ve meet Lucy and heard so much about the others and you were dying to meet them

“Lucy.” You hugged her tightly and kissed her cheek

“Y/N this is Joe, Ben and Gwil.”

“Nice to meet you all.”

“Likewise, we’ve heard a lot about you.” You started to blush

“Same, I hope it was all good.”

“I made you seem like an angel.” Rami informed you

“You didn’t have to lie.” You joked to him

All when you were there you and Ben made kind of flirty remarks to each other

And of course you had heard of him because of his huge breakup and you’ve seen him in a few things but it felt different to actually talk to him

“I’m gonna hold you to that promise.”

“Or else what?”

“I’d make a threat that sounded like a promise.”

“You seem to do that anyway.”

And EVERYONE saw it

When you were in the car on the way back to his place Rami spoke up

“I can give him your number you know?”

“Who’s? Joe’s? He’s quite the-“

“Ben’s.” He stopped you. You felt your face heat up.” You two seemed like you fit perfectly. You should ask him out.”

“Didn’t you just tell me he got out of an almost 10 year relationship like five months ago?”

“Yes but it can be casual.”

“I’m not about to be a rebound Rami. Plus it would never work. Now can we stop talk about it and get inside to eat pizza rolls?”

And you left it at that

Or thought you did

The next morning you had found out that Rami invited everyone over. This was to get Ben here and not make it seem weird. And you were so embarrassed

“Hi.” Was all you said as you saw them in your kitchen. You were wearing sweatpants, no makeup, had messy hair and no bra on

“Y/N join us!” Lucy said with open arms. You walked over to her and sat between her legs as her arms wrapped around your waist

“Taking my girlfriend?” Rami questioned you

“We’re in love.”

“Gonna move to Australia.”

“And get married.”

“Then buy a house.”

“Then have crazy good sex in every room.”

“I quite like that idea actually.” You tell her.” Okay I’m gonna go get dressed.”

“Why?” Rami asked you, you wanted to slap him.” We don’t plan on going anywhere.” He smirked at you

“Please darling you look fine.” Gwil told you.” Orange juice or coffee?”

“Coffee please and Ben move before you burn down my kitchen.” Your hips hit the wide to his to move him over.” What the hell did you try to make?”

“I think it was an omelet.” You rolled your eyes and got out everything you’d need to make a good one

The others say in the living room as you and Ben cooked in the kitchen

They heard laughs coming from in there and when you two were done there was egg, cheese, ham, avocado, peppers and much more everywhere

“You’re cleaning this up.” You told him as you looked around

“Gonna be worth it after this.” He then threw an egg at what you thought was gonna be you but it hit Joe instead. You both bursted out laughing and almost cried from how hard you laughed

By the end of the night it was you, Ben and Rami left

At some point Rami snuck off to bed leaving you alone with Ben to watch the movie

“Oh my god I can’t look.” He laughed as you turned away your head putting it to the back of his shoulder

“Nothing’s gonna happen.”

“I hear the music!” You both laughed after you heard the music go high and you jumped.” It wasn’t funny.”

“Kind of was.” And then you were looking at Ben. His smile light and his eyes bright, with his head slightly tilted. You forgot what was even happening

You didn’t realize it until you both kissed. It was very soft and nice. It was almost perfect. Until you remembered his break up that was very recently.

“I’m sorry.” You said pulling away from him.” It’s a me thing. I know about your old girlfriend and I’m not sure I want to put myself in a place where you might still have feelings.” You told him.” I’m gonna go.”

You felt a little bad because you liked him but you didn’t want him to not be ready

You were a little sad over it but didn’t want to dread on it

About a month later Rami still wouldn’t leave you alone about it and you two ended up seeing each other again at a party

You were worried about seeing him again because of how things ended up last time

But you both acted like nothing happened and you had a really good time

Up until you got super drunk and Ben had to take you home 

“You’re not ugly or unfunny or something by the way.”

“Thank you?”

“No really! I like you Ben, I spent two days with you and you were so sweet and good, but a relationship that long takes time to get over.”

“Go on a date with me then, but agree when you’re sober would be nice.”

“Remind me tomorrow morning then.”

And he did, and you said yes

You did had dinner and talked all night long

He seemed like he was having a good time and you totally were

It took other two months to ask you out but you both wanted to be sure

And it had never been better

You two went slow of course

Dates, talking, not telling anyone. Even Rami

But after six months of pure dating you two went full speed

Going to the Golden Globes

Posting Pictures

Going out when ever you could 

You even talked about an apartment in London together

Fights would happen over the old relationship(s) but they happened and they get fixed

It was also a shock that after the Globes, Only seven months in, he told you he loved you

It was big after such a long time with someone else

“I love you too but I feel like you’re a little too drunk right now.”

“I love you when I’m sober.”

[namjuicyy]

The Contract - Chapter Six

Masterlist | Requests are open.

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut.

Genre of this part: Smut.

Word Count: 3.3k.

Summary: Your life is turned upside down when a contract is pushed your way. But what happens if you sign it?

Warnings: surprise sex - kind of???? unprotected sex (rubber up, kiddlywinkles), little foreplay, penetration, interruption, voyeurism, qualities of a threesome but not an actual threesome (just read it), multiple orgasms, choking.

The next morning you woke up in Yoongi's bed after falling asleep there. At some point, you'd both curled into each other's bodies, holding each other tight enough that you wouldn't be able to fit a piece of paper in between you. Not without it crumpling up anyway.

Yoongi looked so peaceful when he slept, so soft and sweet. But then, after the way he was with you last night, you were hardly surprised. He was a giant softie underneath that socially awkward exterior. You had to peel yourself away from him in order to get out of bed – the heat he was providing proved too much for you to cope with first thing in the morning. You also couldn't be arsed to find your clothes that you had taken off last night, opting to rummage through his to find one of his super-oversized shirts and dress yourself in that.

Jin was already cooking breakfast and making coffee by the time you emerged from Yoongi's dark, little cave. He flashed you a little smile when he saw you dragging your feet along the hard wood flooring, too sleepy to lift them properly. And wearing one of his dongsaeng's shirts too. You looked absolutely adorable. He told you as much.

"Are you blind first thing in the morning, or just incredibly stupid?" You joked.

Jin tutted. "Neither. Though, I am learning your sarcasm knows know time. Shouldn't your brain be slow first thing in the morning?"

"I was just made to perfection," you joke tossing your hair over your shoulder, "what can I say?"

Jin waited a little while before speaking again, flashing you a knowing look. "I see you and Yoongi had some fun last night. Well, heard it, too."

"Was I that loud? Sorry."

Jin laughed. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but you weren't the problem."

You grinned triumphantly. You made Yoongi lose all his inhibitions last night. Though, you didn't think Yoongi was making a lot of noise. To be fair, you had spent a lot of time recently with Jimin in between your thighs, and no one makes as much noise as he does. Maybe Yoongi was just quiet in comparison.

"Well, be grateful you weren't Jungkook. That reminds me, I must apologise to him."

"What for?"

"I sort of went all dom on Yoongi in front of him. He looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights."

"He was shocked, I take it?"

"Understatement of the century."

"Yeah, well, he's not used to stuff like that, is he?"

"I take it he's not very kinky, then?"

"I don't think he even knows, to be honest."

You frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Wait... you don't know?" Jin looked at you with nothing but surprise on his face. You didn't respond, just stared at him expectantly. "Well, if you don't already know then it's not my place to tell you." Jin's wording made the pieces of the puzzle fall into place.

"Jungkook's a virgin?" You asked. You half doubted yourself, wondering how on earth this gorgeous 21-year-old man hadn't had a sexual partner before. Though, despite knowing, Jin's confirmation knocked you for six. "Fuck. How is that possible?"

"Well, he joined us when he was 15. And though he'd had a girlfriend before, he was too shy to take it any further. Then when he joined, any time he had for intimacy went out the window. He was always too preoccupied with making himself better for Army and for us, he never made time to go out and get laid like the rest of us. That and the fact that he was painfully shy to begin with. He's still adorably shy now but before that it was crippling. He would wait until we were asleep before he'd shower, he wouldn't talk to many staffs – and don't get me started on what he was like around girls."

"Oh God, don't tell me he was like Raj from the Big Bang Theory."

"Basically. Except even when he was drunk he wouldn't talk to any of them."

"Oh, Kookie."

"I know. I mean, me and Yoongi are quite shy, and none of us have had many sexual partners but none of us have been quite as bad as JK. He's part of the reason why I agreed to you joining us. He needs social interaction that doesn't involve six other men. Even if you never fuck him and he remains a virgin for the rest of his life, it's a woman's touch he needs, because he's very deprived of that."

"Wow."

"Oh please tell me I haven't scared you off!"

"Of course not! He wouldn't have agreed to this if he wasn't comfortable with it. I'm just surprised, is all. If anyone out of all of you was going to sleep around, I assumed it would be Jungkook."

"We all thought that. He's got that jock feel to him, hasn't he? But nope. Baby boy's an enigma."

You enjoyed Jin's breakfast and brought a cup of coffee to Yoongi's room to leave there. He was still sleeping so peacefully, you were sure his coffee was going to get cold, but you couldn't wake him. Instead you gave him a little kiss on his exposed forehead and left him to it. You needed to make yourself look a little more presentable. Even if you didn't put any makeup on, you needed to sort your hair out. You had no intentions of taking off Yoongi's shirt, it was too comfortable. So instead you made your way to your room to get ready.

Of course, Jungkook was still in bed, sound asleep and clutching onto your pillow like it was you. He was so adorable the way he buried his face into the sheets, inhaling your scent, you couldn't look away. You found yourself standing in the doorway, watching him sleep.

"Don't do that," Jungkook commented sleepily, "it's creepy." Of course the Golden Maknae would have a sixth sense when it came to people watching him sleep.

"I don't know what you're talking about." You replied.

Jungkook chuckled. Even when he was half asleep he still had his wits about him. "Last time I heard that you took Hyung into his room and fucked him."

Your eyes widened. He was right. Just as you were about to respond, you heard light snores coming from him. He'd fallen asleep again. You couldn't help but look at Jungkook differently now that you knew. You didn't want to – but it was almost inevitable. He seemed way more innocent than before, more babyish but in the cutest way. He was untouched snow after a snowfall; fresh paint in a new room. An alien in modern day society. A sweet, young man you couldn't wait to completely ruin for everyone else if he'd let you. God, the things you'd teach him. You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter just thinking about it. But you couldn't rush him. You had to let him come to you – show you the smallest indication that he wanted to be inside you. Only then could you soil his innocence.

Recording season always has been and always will be your most boring season. The boys were never in the media during this time. There were no media appearances or concerts you needed to prep them for, so you were, in essence out of a job for a few months. Not that it mattered so much now, of course, as you were no longer paying the bills. Just your phone bill. You were able to turn down some freelance work now and take a staycation, pick up some hobbies that you had to give up because you simply ran out of time for them. Reading was something you used to do a lot before Big Hit hired you. You had a library that could rival a palace. Though, of course, that library resided in multiple cardboard boxes as you never had the space to display your books. But maybe now you'd be able to figure out a way to display them in your new room. Your room that was just as big as your last apartment.

It was the middle of the day and you found yourself almost home alone. Well, except for Hobi who was asleep in his room catching up on all the sleep he missed out on in the studio last night. He'd been up so late according to Jimin, doing a lot of work for his mixtape mostly. So, despite Hobi being there with you, it was almost as if you were alone. Which is why you decided to take your book and sprawl out on the sofa, laying on your tummy and rubbing your socked feet on the leather and feeling the skin of your thighs stick a little to the cold material. You had refused to put anything on underneath Yoongi's jumper, preferring the feel of knee-length socks instead of sweatpants or shorts.

You were so engrossed in your story, you didn't hear the sound of footsteps approaching behind you.

You felt a large hand rubbing at the back of your legs, stroking the socks and drawing your attention. Looking behind you, you saw Namjoon crouched eyeing you up. What you didn't realise, was in your non-caring attitude about what you were wearing and your thought of being alone, the way you were lay had made your jumper rise up, and expose the bottom of your ass cheeks. A part of your body that Namjoon was staring at like he was looking at the first meal he'd seen in months.

"Oh hey," you said casually, ignoring the look in his eyes, "didn't expect you home so early."

Namjoon hummed. "Wanted a break and forgot to pick something up."

"Oh."

Silence. You decided to return to your book as Namjoon was no longer wanting to keep up a conversation. You felt his hand continue to stroke you, moving upwards to your bare thigh and tickle it with the tip of his finger, sending shivers up your spine. "Namjoon-" You started, but he wasn't having any of it.

"Sssh." He interrupted. "Just ignore me. Keep reading your book. Pay me no mind."

That's going to be difficult, you thought. But you did as you were told and turned back to your book, pretending to read the same page over and over as you felt his hands wander. His lips came down to your upper thigh, kissing the spot where your flesh began to curve to the shape of your ass. The, to Namjoon, erotic spot that ended up giving him a raging hard on. His hand lifted the jumper up just a little to expose more of your ass for him to kiss. Well, over your underwear anyway. You felt his hand move to your core, his thumb resting on your ass as his index finger rubbed your slit through the cloth. You shifted, allowing him a little more access as you sighed at the sensation. His fingers were so long and beautiful, and they were barely touching you yet they were working you into a frenzy.

"Namjoon, please."

"Don't beg me. I'm not here."

You felt him pull your underwear down, then heard the light thud of them being thrown somewhere in the room. Namjoon's finger connected with your clit, and began to rub you in tight circles as best he could, given that your thighs had only slightly parted for him. Without moving you, there was no way he'd be able to stretch you out with his fingers for him, but there was a part of you that didn't want that. You wanted to feel him stretch you out fully with his cock. There was no way you wasn't wet enough for him. He could even hear the way your cunt was making wet little sounds as he played with your clit and sank his teeth into the cheek of your ass.

"I wanna make you cum so bad, but I wanna be inside you too. What a conundrum." Namjoon teased. "I wonder how fast I can make you cum."

He wasn't looking for a response from you, or if he was he just wanted it in the way of the moan he received as he started to rub your clit faster, as he added more and more pressure and soon enough your book had fallen to the floor and your cries were being muffled by the pillow as you came on his fingers.

Namjoon looked at his watch. "Two minutes. You must be really fucking wound up if it takes two minutes to make you cum."

"Or maybe I just want you inside me."

"Keep talking like that and I won't last two minutes."

You giggled.

Namjoon parted your thighs a little more and straddled you. You could hear him taking himself out of his trousers, felt his tip rub up and down your slit before sliding inside. The moan you let out was a lot louder as you felt your dripping yet unprepared cunt stretch significantly around his thick length, that just kept burying itself into you, seemingly not stopping. Just how big was he? Maybe the same size as Jin? Maybe a little bigger? You couldn't tell. All you could feel was your impossibly tight cunt being invaded by something that felt damn substantial.

"Fuck how big are you?" You moaned out when he bottomed out.

Namjoon chuckled at your surprise – you knew him well enough to know that he was blushing slightly. "I'm not hurting you am I?"

"Fuck no. Please move. Please."

Namjoon groaned. "Now I know why Hoseok and Jiminie like to make you beg. You sound so fucking pretty. I don't think I can be soft with you, is that okay?"

You tightened at Namjoon's sweet words filled with so much filth. The thought of him mercilessly pounding into you on this couch physically did something uncontrollable to your cunt. "Please destroy me."

"Fuck."

That was all it took to get Namjoon moving inside of you, slamming into you over and over again. You were bouncing on his cock without even moving yourself to meet his thrusts. It was like you were ricocheting off the sofa and back into him as he fucked into you. "God this cunt." He moaned. His hands came to rest on your ass, using that as leverage to steady himself. "They were telling me to hurry up and get inside you. They told me you – shit – felt amazing." He was ramming into you at this point. You didn't want to wake up Hobi, but the loudness of your moans were uncontrollable. You were screaming as he impaled you. "They didn't say you felt heavenly."

How was he doing it? How could his words be so sweet and soft yet his body was absolutely ripping you to bits, leaving you in shreds on the sofa.

"Fuck me, you're so big."

"You're so tight. Oh God."

Namjoon knelt back, hitting a different angle. "Yes! Namjoon! Right there. God, please don't stop. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"Why?" Came a voice from the other side of the room. "Why is it always me who walks in on you getting fucked? It's like you do it on purpose just to torment me."

"Sorry, sir." You said to Hobi through your screams. "I don't mean to."

"I think you do." He walked over to the sofa and knelt down in front of you, watching your face intensely as Namjoon kept his merciless pace. "First you fuck Jimin in my studio-"

"She did what?" Namjoon asked.

"Yeah. Caught Jimin balls deep inside her as he had her spread legged on my couch."

"Fuck."

"Had to fill her with my cum afterwards, didn't I? Let the little slut know she can't just fuck on my couch if it's not me."

"Did you punish her?"

"Hmmm, I can't recall. Did I punish you, slut?"

"Yes, sir." You answered.

"What did I do?"

"Y-you made me cum more than once. And s-spanked me, oh God. Namjoon, please!"

"Oh fuck that's hot." Namjoon commented.

Hoseok, "spank her, Joonie. The little whore loves it."

Namjoon did as he was told, a hard thwack came down on your bare ass cheek. It was way harder than anything Hobi had given you, and fuck did it feel good. You instantly tightened making Namjoon roll his eyes. "See?" Hoseok asked. "Turn her around, Namjoonie. I wanna make her cum for you."

Namjoon pulled out of you briefly to allow you to lie on your back and spread your legs wide for him. It was now you got to look at his impressive length while he stared at your beautiful cunt. He was bigger than Jin, no question, in both length and girth, and you were practically desperate for him to be inside you again. He wasted no time in diving back in, picking up exactly where he left off. His eyes were fixated on your tits as they bounced underneath the jumper.

"Hold on a second," Hoseok said, "that's Yoongi-hyung's jumper. You little slut, fucking another member while wearing someone else's clothes."

Namjoon tutted. "You know what I'm going to have to do, don't you, Hoseok-ah?"

"What?"

"I'm going to have to cum all over it to let Hyung know what a little slut she is."

Hobi's eyes widened. "Filthy boy." He playfully scolded. He didn't tell him to not, though. Without warning, his one hand wrapped around your throat, and the other made its way down to your clit, rubbing at the little button hard and fast. "I wonder how he'd react to that. Knowing that she fucked someone else in his clothes. Would you like him to know that, baby girl? That his little miss is a whore for someone else."

You couldn't answer. You could barely breathe. With both Hoseok and Namjoon giving you pleasure, your mind wasn't giving you the capacity to do much except scream out loud at the feel of your impending second orgasm.

"Hoseok-ah, she's getting so much tighter. You're gonna make her cum soon."

Hobi moved his lips to your ear, and in between nibbling at it, he spouted more and more filth. "Cum, ___. Cum for us. All over his fat cock. Show him how much you love it when two guys please you."

You let go, almost passing out at the onslaught of your orgasm. Your breathing was heavy, and you were gasping for air by the time you'd finished cumming. You winced at the feeling of Namjoon pulling out of you, and it wasn't long before spurts of his cum landed all over Yoongi's jumper just as he promised he would. Streams and streams of his seed landing on the fabric as he came hard all over you.

You both remained there for a while, catching your breaths and recovering from perhaps the best sex you'd had in a good while. It wasn't until Hobi stood to walk away you remembered he was still there. "Wh-what about you?" You asked.

"Oh please, as hot as that was I'm too fucking tired to get anything up." He bent down and kissed your forehead. "Maybe next time I'll get you to scream louder than him." He turned to walk away. "Oh, and the next time you two wanna fuck, don't wake me up."

"Sorry, Hobi." Namjoon said. "We'll try to keep it down." He turned to you. "Are you okay?"

"I need to sleep."

Namjoon laughed. "Come on then, baby. We'll nap in my room for a bit." He took your hand and led you off to his bed, giving you new clothes to wear before holding you from behind, watching you drift off into a deep sleep – completely exhausted.

[the-council-of-new-york-vampires]

Priya and Amy being sweet to each other is so cute. I hope you continue it

Out of Character:

Definitely! I’ll continue it right now. :D

…Just wrote it and… This shit is meaningful as hell. I just wanted to write a bit, but… w o w.

It’s not so sexy, but it contains explicit language. Know Priya’s backstory, and I promise you won’t regret reading this…

It was an hour later that Priya woke up.

Amy sat by her side, smiling. “Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

Priya’s eyes widened. “It’s morning?”

She chuckled, told her, “No, it’s still evening. Then again, I didn’t know vampires needed sleep at all.”

Priya shook her head, slightly perplexed. “They don’t.”

Carefully, Amy’s finger stroked her cheek. “Do you remember what I said to you before you fell asleep?” Her voice was quiet once again.

Priya looked at her… and grinned. Even after their romantic night together, her smile had something predatory.

“I mean it,” Amy whispered.

“I appreciate that,” Priya just said.

Amy looked at her for a long time before asking, “…You don’t say it back?”

“I’m not fake.”

…She couldn’t help but feel sad.

Priya placed a hand on Amy’s shoulder and explained, unusually serious, “If I love someone, I let them know. Then again, I told you how I feel about that word. So, no guarantees.”

Amy bit her lip, nodded, understanding. “I can’t force feelings that aren’t there.”

“Maybe they’re there and I don’t know,” she said, shrugging. Priya was surprsingly cool… careless, maybe?

Amy nodded. A bit more distant than before, she stated, “I hope… Maybe you learned that sex can be intimate and gentle and not rough or degrading.”

“Amy, darling, please. Don’t think you can teach me anything about sex. I know everything.”

“But did you know this would feel so good?” With that, she had her.

“…Sure.”

Amy grinned. “What did you say about not being fake?”

Priya nudged her playfully. “Shut up. I’m the realest bitch.”

Amy chuckled. This almost felt like a relationship.

Priya admitted, “It was nice enough.”

“I will treat you gently, forever,” Amy proclaimed. “As long as you let it happen.” She said that with a certain warmth in her voice. “Because I feel it does you good.”

“You can’t do it forever anyway.”

‘As long as I love you. And that’s forever.’ Damn, how cheesy that sounded… Too cheesy to say it.

“Mortals don’t live forever,” Priya noted.

For a longer time, Amy was quiet. “I don’t even know if I’d want to get Turned. It was never an option, really.”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

Amy shrugged, remembering again just how special she felt for being able to say ‘Priya Lacroix is actually interested in me.’ “Being a vampire grants you so many perks. But there are also things you have to give up.” She thought about it, and chuckled. “You’d never understand, but… I think I want children someday.”

Priya said nothing.

Then again, Amy laughed. “I bet you hate them.”

“Mhm…”

“They don’t really go with a glamorous lifestyle,” she joked. “And you wouldn’t want to give that up.”

“I can’t, anyway.”

Amy raised her eyebrows. “Huh?”

“Have kids.”

She nodded. “Yeah.” For the fun of it, Amy said jokingly, “I bet it’s better that way.”

Priya’s stare was cold. As if she was actually offended.

When looking at her, Amy’s smile left her face immediately. “I… Sorry. That’s cruel. You could be a great mother. I don’t know you enough to judge.”

“That’s right. You don’t.” The warmth was gone. “Actually, you don’t know shit about me.”

Amy’s eyes widened. She was suddenly afraid, sad… hurt. “Priya…”

“It’s kinda funny how every asshole judges. I’m so cruel and rude and I’m a horrible person and whatnot. These people… It’s them who I’m coming for first.”

“I… never meant to judge you. I’m sorry. Hell, you might be a better mom than me. You’re loving and mature and capable. I’m dorky as hell. I don’t have half of the experience you have.”

“Mhm.”

Amy grinned, trying to bring back the positivity she usually felt around Priya. “I love how you love your dogs.”

“My dogs are my babies.”

She chuckled. “I wish I was one of them. You’re be a great mama.”

Somehow, Priya didn’t find that too funny.

Amy felt the awkwardness, the coldness betweem them. She took her oversized pullover off to reveal her body, undressed. She lied down next to Priya, the blanket covering both of them. It was quiet until she mumbled, “I could lie here with you and talk to you forever…”

“Am I that interesting?”

“Absolutely. After all, I want to get to know my future wife.”

Priya laughed…

…And Amy was glad. This was Priya’s kind of humor. Babies just seemed to be a taboo topic with her…

“Ask me something nasty.”

Amy thought… and kissed Priyas forehead. “What’s your favorite type of hug?”

Again, Priya laughed. “I hate you. You’re boring as hell.”

“I just think sex isn’t the most important thing in life.” She grinned.

“Having fun is.”

“That sounds… more acceptable.”

“Who cares? Some people should just get their heads out of their asses.”

Amy chuckled. “You know, I… I’ve met quite a few vampires. I learned that many of them are hot. I mean, let’s exclude The Baron and Lester, because they make me gag.”

“They make me vomit in my mouth.”

She laughed. “I learned that vampires must love sex, since… their senses are heightened. Things feel more intense. And that makes sense. Yet, I haven’t met a single vampire as obsessed with sex than you.”

“Pff. They’re just sneaky with it.”

Grinning, she asked, “Are you sure?”

“I guess? It’s just… You know… I collected a lot of shitty experiences regarding the topic. Then I got Turned and I thought… Time to take what I want.”

“Shitty experiences for you would be… Girls in sweatpants. Or men with average dick lengths,” she joked.

“No, like real shitty.”

It was then that Amy understood this was serious. “Oh… Sometimes, talking helps.”

“Yeah, no, nothing really helps.”

“Have you… seeked help? Talked to someone who loves you? I mean… I know it can be difficult. But it’s often for the better.”

Priya sighed. She didn’t seem particularly annoyed. Rather as if there was a heavy weight on her shoulders. One she had been carrying for centuries.

Amy pulled her close. “Shhh,” she whispered. “It’s okay.”

“I’m alone.”

“No. You’re never alone. You can talk to me.” She thought about her words, then added, “I swear, you can always fucking talk to me.” Amy meant this. Nothing more than this.

For a minute, Priya was quiet. She felt Amy’s hand caressing her back. They were naked, together, but nothing about this was sexual. She felt a weird feeling in her throat… as if she had to confess. “Fuck, Amy…”

Amy kissed Priya’s cheek, assured her, “If you don’t want me to know, I respect that. Priya… I respect you so much. It’s just that I know what it feels like to not talk about something, letting it break you. It sucks. And I don’t want that for you. Because you’re an amazing person. You don’t deserve to feel this way. No matter what people say. You’re right; they judge. And they don’t know you.”

Priya sighed. She looked at Amy, taking her head off of the young woman’s shoulder, and asked, “Do you know the sex trafficking industry?”

Amy froze. “Yes.”

“Well… I know what that’s like.”

“Were you…?”

“Yeah.”

Amy was silent. Then she said, “No…”

“Yeah.”

“Priya… I don’t want to believe this.”

She was cold as ice. “Do you think I want to believe that shit?”

Amy was in tears. “No… No… No. I don’t want this. Please… Don’t tell me that’s true.”

Priya smiled, her eyes teary. “Shit. I forgot it was that bad.”

Amy covered her face with her hand… and let the tears fall. She hugged Priya ever so tightly… and cried with her, together.

Eventually, Amy found herself on top of Priya, a blanket covering two women whose faces were wet from tears. She cupped Priya’s cheeks and whispered, “I swear… If anybody fucking hurts you…”

“So many people fucking hurt me.”

“They’re dead. They’re all fucking dead. And if not… I’ll kill them myself.”

“I went through so much shit.”

“For how long, Priya?”

“Eight years.”

“You started when you were…”

“Sixteen.”

“…I’m angry. I’m so fucking angry.”

Priya rubbed her eyes, acknowledging that her makeup might as well be worth getting ruined - just this once. “I’m not even angry anymore.”

“This is a crime against humanity. You were a child.”

“Well, I was a girl.”

“Were your parents cruel?”

“Nah… My mother tried to do everything to provide for us and stuff. Call me stupid, but I’m kinda thankful. The women in my life were strict as hell, but I don’t blame them. They went through the same shit, after all. It went on for generations.”

“And your father?”

“Don’t know who.”

“Oh… Right. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I hate him. No matter who he is, he is a fucking rapist. All of them are.”

“Maybe… Maybe he would have loved you. You’re very loveable…”

“No one loves a daughter.”

“Priya…”

“It’s true. It’s a man-made system. Literally.”

“…Damn. After all you went through… How can you look men in the eyes?”

“Honestly? I have no idea.” She laughed. “Sometimes, I call one of my toys, and I say ‘Down!’. And he looks at me all sorry and shit. And I order it again. He gets on his knees before me. And I kick his balls so good. With heels on.”

“…Ouch.”

Again, she laughs. “His screams don’t make up for what I went through.”

“I can imagine… But we live in a different system now. Men are… different.”

“‘Let boys be boys.’ God, when I hear that, I cringe.”

Amy faced the ground… and nodded. She wiped her tears away.

“One time, I got pregnant. And I thought: ‘Shit’.”

It was then that she gaped. “What?”

“You bet I had no idea who her father was. And I thought… Damn. That’s it. I’m continuing the cycle.”

Amy felt the sadness coming back up. “Was it… a girl?”

“I like to think it was.”

She thought back of their recent conversation… and it hit her. “Priya… I’m so sorry. I had no idea you were pregnant as a human.”

“Me, pregnant… You’re right, it sounds ridiculous. I wouldn’t even believe it myself if I didn’t know for a fact it’s true.”

“Did you… have an abortion?”

“Hm… More like a miscarriage.”

“Oh, shit… I’m sorry…”

“The worst thing wasn’t even that I got pregnant. The worst thing was that I actually wanted her. Not in the first place. I was at my lowest. But I got used to the thought, however that worked. I don’t know. All I know is I was ready. And then I lost her.”

And again, Amy was crying.

“I thought life fucking hates me. Life must be a man, I thought. And you better believe I hated that motherfucker back.”

Amy did the only thing that felt right. She hugged Priya, kissed her… “I love you.”

Somehow, Priya grinned. “Damn. One tragic lifestory and every bitch is at my feet.”

“Priya, I want to fight the world. With you. It’s us against the rest.”

Priya chuckled. “Are you on crack?”

For the first time, Amy laughed. It felt like medicine to a wounded soul. “I’m sad as hell, okay?”

“Time heals all wounds, I guess. At least, that’s what smart people say. It turns wounds to scars. Like, I can talk about it and… not lose my shit. I can be fine. At least, kinda.”

Amy lied down, her head on Priya’s chest. “Are you glad you spoke up?”

“Somehow, yeah. Unless you’ll choose to fuck with me up with it.”

“Never.”

“Well,” Priya said, “it’s not like I wouldn’t kill you.”

“I wouldn’t even be offended if you killed me.”

The two of them laughed.

“Priya?” Amy then asked.

“Sup?”

“Are you… often dating?”

“Not really. I mean, nothing serious these days. I have my toys and that’s it. I seek new ones, and sometimes… Sometimes I break them. But that’s all. No romance and shit like that.”

“…These days?”

“Yeah. I kinda stopped taking it serious.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. It’s like… responsibility. And… I mean, in a relationship, people are supposed to be equal. I realized that doesn’t work.”

Amy was silent. Then she said, “You’d be equal with me.”

But apparently, her voice was too quiet. Priya continued. “I really thought it could work. One time, I was at a sex party with Vega and-”

“Vega?”

“Yeah.”

“Senator Vega?” Amy couldn’t believe it.

“You’re cute when you’re surprised. Anyway-”

“Don’t tell me The Council threw a sex party.”

Priya laughed. “Ew, fuck no. It was a private thing back when we were dating.”

“I… had no idea you were dating him in the past.” Somehow, that changed her perspective. On both of them. A match made in hell.

“1920s. Wild time. Anyway. I was having the time of my life at that party. It was so good that I collapsed.”

Amy gaped. “What the hell?”

“It was great. Damn, I was exhausted. I felt high as hell. Somehow, he stood before me and I just gave him a blowjob. I don’t know if I wanted it at the moment. But he wanted, and I didn’t think. And he cupped my cheeks and pulled me close and I just did it.”

“Uh… Okay…” Another person Amy could never look in the eyes again…

“A moment later, there were a dozen guys surrounding us. And they watched us and jerked off, close to my face and shit. And I was kinda thinking ‘Excuse me??’. I tried to pull away, but he kept me in place and I could tell he was totally enjoying it. He was in control at the moment and he took advantage of me, showing off to all those assholes. And I didn’t want it. Later I realized he had made me feel the exact way I’ve felt all these years. Used.”

“…Wow. I hate him so much right now.”

“Don’t. He’s a fun guy. He was the only one who believed in me, that I could be a famous designer and shit. I owe him a lot. Plus, we had a friends with benefits thing going on for some time. I don’t hate him one bit.”

“But that’s not okay. He was putting his ego over your needs. Have you ever talked to him about it?”

“When the whole thing was over, I said I was exhausted. Seriously, I couldn’t even walk. He picked me up and drove me home.”

“And that’s it?”

“When we woke up afterwards, I told him it was fucked up. And he didn’t even know what I was talking about. So I described it and he said he hadn’t known I was uncomfortable at the moment. I told him that I was and that I didn’t enjoy it, and he apologized and said he wouldn’t have continued if he had known. And then he changed the topic, and I just took it as answer. I was okay with it. We did more fun things and never talked about it again. But it kinda stuck with me.”

Finally, Amy looked Priya in the eyes. “…I would never treat you like that.”

“You’re not a man.”

“Don’t you date women?”

“Not really. I figured dating isn’t really my thing. I think women demand more attention than men. I’m not one to give so much… rather receive.”

Amy looked at Priya in a way that expressed more than words ever could. Simply, she said, “I’d treat you like a goddess, Priya.”

After a silent moment, Priya grinned and said, “I am one.”

“You truly are… Sometimes, I look at you… And I’m just speechless. Like, how could someone be this damn beautiful? Inspirational, even.”

Priya smiled… and the predatory streak was gone. “I didn’t tell you these shit stories for nothing, Amy.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you make me see the world in a different light. We talked… And I feel brand new. Like… There’s something I wanna try.”

Was that a hint? Amy took a breather. She had to fucking ask this. “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

Priya was quiet. Then, she said, “Fuck yeah.”

[danganronpa-paradox]

CHAPTER 1 - 018

After talking to everyone with Hitomi, we decided to follow Midori to the rec room. She said there were some people discussing the… recent events, so we figured we’d go check it out and see what the general consensus on how we should deal with this is.

There were about 5 other people in the rec room when we went in -- Naomasa, Naoto, Mitsunari, Taiyou and Keiji. That meant that half of us were discussing the motive in the rec room. Midori closed the door behind us, and we walked over to the others. Naomasa was the first to speak.

“Lovely of you to join us, ladies.”

“Hey there! Matsuba mentioned this to us, so we figured we’d drop by.”

“Yeah, we were just talking about the… y’know.”

“Yes. That.”

“We set this up so we could touch base with each other, and make sure there wasn’t anything concerning about these forums.”

“I am a bit concerned about the others who didn’t show up though…”

The others who didn’t show up… that’d be Yuu, Hitoshi, Haruka, Naomi, Asahi, Yuki, Kasumi and Kotori. We talked to 2 of them, and we tried to talk to Kotori, but she was talking to someone else. I wondered what was up with the other 5?

“Well, what’s important now is the people who did show up.”  

“Guess so. We’re just talkin’ ‘bout these bullshit forums. Where did that fucker even get these from? Did he really take’em from the school?”

“He said that he did, but given his nature, I don’t really think we can trust what he says.”

“So, what do we do? Just… Hmmm… Anyone got any ideas?”

“Well, like Oxford Blue over there said, we’ve just been tellin’ each other what’s on our forums to make sure nobody’s like, a serial killer, or somethin’.” That was an… interesting way to put it.

“Oh, alright then. I didn’t really see anything noteworthy on mine, unless you count some broken bones from rough soccer matches as something noteworthy.”

“I-I can confirm that! I, um, I got your forum, Kurosawa.”

“Ah, that’s right! We all get two forums, I forgot.” How did I forget that? Get it together, Ichigo.

“So, do we just… go around the circle then…?”

Hitomi was next.

“Well, um… I was born with transverse deficiency... basically, I’m missing my left leg.”

“And as a result of that, I’ve been wearing a prosthetic for most of my life.” She lifted her skirt a bit to show the others her leg.

“...”

“...”

“Damn…”

”...Can’t imagine how tough that is… only havin’ one leg and havin’ to walk around with another that ain’t really yours…”

“Well, I guess it is kinda yours ‘cuz you own it, but it ain’t really yours cuz it’s… a fake leg… y’know what I mean.”

“Yeah… I get it.”

“...Thank you for sharing. Yamazaki? Taiyou said she received your forum as well, but is there something you’d like to share with us?”

“Well, there is the reason I was scouted into Hope’s Peak in the first place…”

“In school, my average grade for math assignments and tests currently sits at 100, and it’s sat there ever since they started keeping track of my averages. My averages in subjects that involve a lot of math like science are also in the high ninetys.”

“The school board was baffled by how this was possible, and some of my teachers thought I was cheating. So when I was about thirteen, I was sent on a plane to the University of Tokyo, where I was tasked with solving 10 of the university’s most difficult math problems, while being watched by some of the professors to make sure I wasn’t cheating, because they didn’t believe that I could do it either. Joke’s on them, because I managed to solve them all correctly and flawlessly in precisely six minutes and thirty-eight seconds.”

“They still didn’t believe it, so they took me to get an IQ test. I scored 166. That’s when I hit the news, and Hope’s Peak eventually found out about me, and put me into their Super Junior High School Level Divison, and after that... here I am now.”

“Wow… that’s impressive!” Of course, he had already told me this information, but it was still crazy knowing a person as smart as he was!

“Whoa! You’re, like, one of the smartest people out there, and you’re only in high school!”

“He’s right! And with that IQ… you’re a literal genius!”

“Aw, c’mon, it’s not that special.”

“You’ve been a Hope’s Peak student for years, and you’re the guy who scored 166 on his IQ test when he was thirteen. I wouldn’t call that ‘not special’! Who knows what your IQ is now?”

“She’s got a point! Mitsunari’s already told me that there’s nothing he wants to share, so it’s my turn!”

“Really, the only interesting thing on here is that I’ve been playing in the band since I was thirteen. Keiji?”

“...Nothing really on mine.”

“Keiji, I got your forum. I know.”

“...Okay, fine, I’ll spill.”

“...We yarnbombed an entire park in the dead of night. Me and my knitting group.”

“You did what.”

“It was really fun! It was part of an event that we were participating in centered around art, so it was perfectly legal.”

“Why would they put that on your forum?”

“It was part of the reason I was scouted. They wanted someone from that group, and since I was the only one still in high school, they chose me!”

“Haha! You’re pretty wild, Thistle!”

“There ain’t too much on mine, ‘cept for the fact that I apparently grew an inch since they filled this out.”

“Alright then. Matsuba, you’re our last one!”

“O-Oh, me? Hehe, um, well…”

“Y-Y’know how Monomage said that some of us might be keeping secrets about our talents…?”

“Yeah, what about that?”

“Well…”

“...”

“!!!”

“???”

“Lil’ Candytuft… yer a-”

“Yes. I am.”

“Midori is… not real. She’s just one of the many identities I have assumed while going undercover. Everything you see on me is fake. The clothes, the hair, the makeup, the contacts, everything.”

“But… why’dja go undercover as a chocolatier?”

“You wouldn’t believe what some people put in those chocolates.”

“...Jesus Christ.”

“...Also, I received your forum, um… Toyama? Matsuba?”

“Matsuba’s fine. I’ll need to keep up this facade for a while anyway.”

“Facade?”

“You can’t exactly be an undercover officer without criminals and their associates in your midst… and I’ll just leave it at that.” What did she mean by that? Was there a criminal in the building with us who wasn’t being truthful about who they were?

...Did they have something to do with our kidnapping?

“...Right then. I’m no criminal expert, but if that criminal is really here and out for you, then staying hidden is probably a smart choice.”

“Yeah… but the thought of having a criminal after you is horrible to think about…”

“It is, but it’s something I have to think about a lot. I don’t really get scared thinking about it that much, but I guess that’s because I’m used to it.”

“I suppose that makes sense.”

“Well, I’m glad we all had this discussion. I suppose we should all just wander around until suppe-”

“Not so fast!”

“Gah!”

“You!”

“...”

“Now what exactly is going on here? I give you those forums as a potential way to kill each other and here you are reading the contents like it’s some show and tell bullshit!”

“So what? You can’t control what we do wit’em, and you can’t stop us from talkin’ bout’em either!”

“Yeah, he’s right. It’s literally in the rules that you told us to follow.” She quickly booted up her Student Handbook.

“4. The host may not interfere with the students unless they break a rule or specifically request it.”

“You’d literally be breaking your own rules if you tried to force us to stop talking about it. Besides, you literally gave us a motive to kill someone. It’s only natural that it’d be a hot topic for discussion.” She was clearly trying to keep up her image as Midori, but it was almost like I could hear Chisato slipping through the cracks of her sentence.

“Well, I never! Seems like your law knowledge is coming in handy there, Officer!”

“...” I guess Monomage already knew who she was. She didn’t look scared though, so maybe Monomage wasn’t the criminal she mentioned.

“But, I guess since we’re all sharing stuff about each other…” He reached for the brim of his hat. “...I think it’s only fair that I share something about me!”

In that instant, he whipped the hat off his head, and…

...and…

“Ta-da!”

...What the heck.

“What.”

“You’re kiddin’ me.”

“What the fuck?!”

“Well, aren’t you just a pleasant bunch. Didn’t your parents ever teach you manners?”

“W-We were taught to express gratitude to stuff we liked, not stuff like this. What the damn were you expecting reactionwise?”

“Yeah! Tell’im like it is!”

“Oh, I get it! You all are just jealous that you don’t have luscious locks like mine! Shahahahaha!”

“Oh, you think you’re hot shit, huh?” Naomasa stood up from where he was sitting and reached behind his head.

“Oh? A challenger approaches? A challenger who thinks his hair attracts more attention than mine? Shahaha! You can’t get higher quality than this, Mr. Saxobeat!” Monomage’s taunting didn’t seem to deter Naomasa in the slightest, because in mere seconds…

“You wanna bet?”

“...”

“!!!”

“Well, how bout that!”

“Seriously, you could probably be a shampoo model with hair like that!”

“Oh, come on! What happened to little ol’ me?”

“You’re not important.”

“You’ve also just lost a bet.”

“Well, aren’t you just gentlemen! Guess I’ll leave you to your ‘teamwork’ bullcrap!” With a wave of his staff, his hat reappeared on his head and his hair was stuffed back inside.

“Thank you for choosing the Despairing Sunset Inn, and we hope you enjoy your miserable stay! Happy slaughtering!” He disappeared in yet another puff of smoke.

“Off he goes again.”

“Better gone than here, I suppose.”

“What was that all about, anyway?”

“I… couldn’t tell you, honestly.” I’d been confused the entire time Monomage had been in the room. First, he was condemning us for sharing our forums with each other, and then he was sharing… “information” about himself with all of us. Was he trying to confuse us, or did he have something else in mind?

“Whatever it was, we managed to chase him off again.”

“You mean you chased him off with that hair of yours.”

“Hehehe, just doing my best.”

I had to chuckle at that. After a bit of banter between Naomasa and Keiji, we all decided to head back. One or two people stayed behind, but the majority of us left for other places in the inn. I, however, wanted to check in with those people I hadn’t talked to earlier… That’d be Hitoshi, Nobuyuki, Kasumi, Asahi, and Naomi. I wondered what they thought of the whole thing?

BACK | NEXT

[redrosella]

Avarice - Chapter 5

Summary: Roman hasn’t been feeling well lately. He’s been waking up at random times in the middle of the night, is perpetually exhausted, and he can’t seem to get rid of this damn headache.

…If only that was all it was.

Series Warnings: Mind Control, Brainwashing, Dark Sides, Corruption

Word Count: 1742

Tagged: @sanderstalker​ @rosie-the-bi 

Chapter 1  Chapter 2   Chapter 3   Chapter 4

It didn’t pass over in a week. It had been a month since Roman had barricaded himself in his room, and he wasn’t planning on coming out soon. It was almost like he was Thomas back in middle school.

It’s not like he had much of a reason to leave, anyway. The other sides didn’t want to talk to him, and that was fine. They just didn’t understand his creative genius. They didn’t understand that he knew what was best for Thomas, and this was how he had to achieve it. He realized that now.

It was simple, really. He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t seen it before.

The other sides were holding Thomas back. They all had their own agenda, and none of them would look at the bigger picture. Roman on the other hand didn’t have an agenda. He just wanted Thomas to be happy. He wanted him to flourish, and get everything he deserved. The others only got in the way of that.

He should never have entertained them before. That just gave them power. Power that only he should have, because only he knew what was best. Only he deserved to hold the reigns.

Roman frowned as he looked at himself in the mirror. He hadn’t been looking like his usual glittery self recently, and it was starting to bother him a bit. It must have been from the added pressure he had valiantly put upon himself in his quest to save Thomas, but that still didn’t make it any more unsightly. Even if he wasn’t talking the the others anymore, he still thought he should look good for himself. Besides, he did need to talk to Thomas soon, and showing up looking like a train wreck would do no good for his image.

He pulled his makeup kit from off the floor, ignoring the layer of green mist covering it. The mist was a new addition to his room, showing up just before his new revelation and covering his floor, but he didn’t think much of it. It was no big deal. Probably just some residual stuff hanging around. He had bigger things to worry about.

He began by covering the dark bags under his eyes, not wanting to accidentally resemble Virgil in his sleeplessness. His sleeping schedule had gotten all kinds of messed up recently, and it was showing. There was simply no time to sleep when he could be drafting ideas, coming up with new and exciting innovations, and figuring out the best way to propel Thomas to the top.

Plus, he really didn’t want to have that one dream again. Just the thought of seeing Thomas that decrepit and lost again sent a shiver down his spine.

Once that mess was covered up, he moved on to his eyes. In his room, with the glow of the green mist coating the floor, he could almost swear that they looked green rather than their usual brown. It was off putting to him in a way he couldn’t explain, but he quickly forgot about it, moving on from his eyes and to his outfit.

The princely attire was not looking so good. He hadn’t done laundry in forever, not wanting to risk running into anyone. He might be able to fix it with a wave of his hand, but his summoning abilities recently had been… lacking.

Again, he attributed it to his activities wearing him thin.

He didn’t entertain the thought that maybe he should cut back and focus on himself for a little bit. That’s what lazy people did. You take one break and then you’ve fallen behind and soon you begin making all kinds of excuses for why you can’t do something. Roman wasn’t going to fall into that trap.

In the end, Roman decided to not bother with his outfit. So what if it was a little wrinkled? No one would even notice.

He pushed himself away from his vanity, sighing. His bed was looking very alluring right now, but the niggling in his mind was telling him that he still needed to do more. Perhaps talk to Thomas. He hadn’t done that since the Morning video, instead taking the more subtle approach. It wasn’t his usual style, but everything told him that it was better to stay on the down low for a little while before.

So far it was working brilliantly. Thomas had gotten quite a few videos out recently, and they all seemed to be getting quite a bit more clicks than usual. Still not as much as he could be, but they were getting there.

Maybe now would be a good time to speed things up, though.

He had so many ideas he wanted to run by Thomas. So many new ideas and tactics to elevate his videos to the next level. It was astounding to him that he’d never thought of them before. It was like a mental barrier had suddenly been lifted, and now he knew exactly what to do to better Thomas!

He had never felt more liberated! And tired... But mostly liberated!

Roman took a deep breath, focusing in on Thomas to figure out what he was doing currently. It seemed he was just sitting in bed scrolling through tumblr, not doing anything productive. Perfect! That gave Roman ample time to talk with him.

He sunk out of his room, appearing in Thomas’ own. It was a bit tougher when he wasn’t being actively summoned there by Thomas’ accord, but it was worth it.

“Thomas!”

“Oh, Roman!” Thomas startled, putting down his phone. “I’m so glad you’re here! I’ve been meaning to summon you but have never had the time.”

“But you were just browsing tumblr?”

“Yes, very important work. Anyway, what was the reason you came up? Was it to also talk about the videos recently?” Thomas stood up from his bed, moving closer to Roman so that he wasn’t awkwardly sitting in bed while his fanciful side was towering over him and monologuing.

“Exactly!” Roman exclaimed. “I’m glad we’re on the same wavelength here, Thomas! I think that what we have been doing recently has been working well, however there is a lot more that we could be doing and I wanted to talk to you about these ideas and begin implementing them.”

Thomas frowned, scrunching his face up. “Roman… I’ve been feeling the exact opposite. I don’t think my videos have been all that great recently... I’ve been feeling really burnout lately, and I think all of our fans are noticing it as well. I’ve been pulling a lot of long nights trying to get them right, but all the videos seem a bit… gimmicky, in a way? People have been saying that they don’t have that usual soul put into them.”

“And you’re just going to believe all them? Who cares what they think.” Roman waved a hand dismissively.

“Roman, they’re our fans! Shouldn’t we be listening to them and giving them what they want?”

“We are! What do you think I’ve been doing? All these videos are what the fans want! They want a consistent upload schedule. They want a person who can be onboard with the most recent trends. Sure, your other videos are fine, but to really get your numbers up you need to be more in line with what others want.”

Thomas bit his lip. “Roman, that doesn’t sound like you. Is everything okay?” He made a motion like he was about to reach out to the creative side before stopping halfway through, lamely putting his hand back down.

“Of course everything is okay, Thomas. I’ve just come to a realization recently. You need to apply your creativity in different ways, or else your channel is going to fail. It’s just common sense. Youtubers who refuse to adapt and change with the times will inevitably become less popular. We don’t want that, Thomas. We want to become better, reach more people, be famous!”

“...Is that what I want, or what you want?”

“It’s what we want, Thomas. I am you. We’re in this together, and I know what is best for us.”

“And what’s best for us is doing what everyone else is already doing? What happened to wanting to be original?”

“Original doesn’t pay the bills, Thomas. Vincent Van Gogh was original, and everyone hated him until he died broke and alone missing an ear!”

“Pay the bills- what? Roman, what are you talking about? We’re fine. I’m not about to be evicted out onto the streets.”

“But for how long? How long will you stay relevant if you refuse to change? Just listen to me, Thomas. I know what I’m doing. I’m your creativity. You should be listening to me. So what if no one else agrees? This is what’s best for us.”

Thomas shifted back slightly. “Roman… Maybe I should call the others in here-” He made a move to summon them.

“Don’t call them,” Roman snarled, stopping Thomas in his tracks. “They’re using you, Thomas. I’m the one helping you here. All they want is for you to do things that will inevitably kill your channel. Logic doesn’t want you to spend more time on your videos. Morality wants you to waste your time doing whatever you want without any regards to your passions. Anxiety doesn’t even want you to make videos at all! And they all want you to spend more time with your friends.” He spat out the last word.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Thomas took a few steps back.

“Remember what I said, Thomas? Only spend time with specific friends who can help you achieve your dreams. Everyone else is just holding you back.”

“Roman, that’s not-”

“I can see you’re not going to listen to reason, Thomas, so I’m going to do this. I didn’t want to, but if I must, I must. I won’t be giving you any more ideas if you won’t listen to me. I’m not going to give you the tools you needs to make yourself a failure.”

“Roman-”

“Call me when you’re ready to actually go somewhere with your life, Thomas.”

Roman sunk out.

That did not go according to plan, but it was fine. He would just have to make Thomas understand using some tough love. After a few days of being creatively dead he’d come crawling back to Roman, begging to implement his ideas.

Then it’d be his time to shine.

[hollandorks]

The Montreal Problem

Chapter 4

Summary: The reader has big plans to spend a month in Montreal with her boyfriend. The problem? He breaks up with her just as her flight is leaving. Now she’s going to be stuck in an unfamiliar city for a month with no place to stay. That is, until an unexpected hero offers her a solution.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Epilogue 1 Epilogue 2 The London Problem

Word count: 3463

Author’s Note: So, so sorry for posting so late! Today was way busier than it was supposed to be, BUT I’m still posting it before it’s technically tomorrow! (By only 10 minutes and in my timezone, but still, I did it). 

Shoutout to everyone who told me to post today because I’m so excited about the chapters from here on out. Also shoutout to all of you asking to be on the tag-list! Seeing such a long list at the end of this chapter makes me so happy, so thank you all!! This chapter was a lot of fun to write as it’s kind of the moment when things start to pick up in the story. I hope you guys enjoy it! And I’ll almost definitely be posting at least one more time before the weekend is over (but probably two times, because who am I kidding) 

Y/N–Your Name

B/F/N–Boyfriend’s Name

Golden light spilled between the curtains and fell across your face. You groaned and squinted grumpily at the sun before rolling over. You were so comfortable, but so exhausted. You peeked at the time on your phone. It was after eleven in the morning, and you had a few missed texts.

The most recent was from Tom. Rented a car for the month. Hope you don’t mind small SUVs. Also, I have no idea if you can drive legally in Canada with an American license, but the keys are on the kitchen counter.

You read one from Harrison next. We’re all on set until this evening. Tom rented a car for you. Googled it and your license is valid as long as you have proof of insurance or something.

Your heart leapt a little at the two texts. You were getting royal treatment from these strangers. Tom was paying for your stay, which had all been Harrison’s idea. You flopped back onto the pillows and sighed. This was...crazy.

There was a text from your boyfriend with an address and time of where to meet for lunch the next day. You clung to those words, to the hope that in twenty-four hours you might be moving in with him for the month instead of living here.

And then there were the texts from your mom. With all of the “moving day” business the day before, you had forgotten to tell her that you’d arrived safely. Her texts went from polite to angry. You hurriedly texted back, telling her a half-truth about crashing as soon as you’d gotten back. You replied to your other texts as well. You realized, too, that you had about twenty new follow requests from various fan accounts for Tom. You ignored them all.

You spent the day lounging around, exploring the house and backyard, breathing in the cool Canadian air. You were almost at peace.

The boys got home in a burst of noise and laughter just as you were about to heat up leftover pizza for dinner--which is what you had had for lunch, too. Not that you minded.

You blinked in surprise, still in the same sweats and tshirt from last night. Harry came in first, a camera hanging around his neck.

“--nose for the third time,” he was saying. Tom was shaking his head as he pushed past his brother.

“I did not! I landed it just fine, it was the wind--” Tom argued.

“Mate, you tripped,” Harrison laughed wildly, appearing next. You heard Sam in the next room laughing. You were still standing in the same place, fridge door open, pizza box in hand. They didn’t seem to notice you at the moment.

You quietly shut the fridge and put the pizza box on the counter.

“You’re not eating pizza again, are you Y/N?” Harry asked. “Tom’s taking us out tonight to celebrate not breaking his nose for the third time.”

“It was the wind!” Tom called from upstairs. Laughter echoed in the kitchen.

“No, that’s okay, I’ll eat here. I like pizza,” you said.

“Unacceptable, Y/N,” Harrison said with fake gravity. “If Tom has it in his head to treat us, let him. We use as much money of his as we can.”

“I heard that!” Tom’s voice called, more distant than before. “You parasites!”

“It’s true though!” Harrison shouted back. He turned back to you. “Can you be ready in twenty minutes or so?”

“No problem.” You hurried off to your room to begin digging through your clothes.

You hadn’t hung anything up before falling asleep, but thankfully de-wrinkle spray existed and you had a bottle. You picked your least sexy dress, a gray and white, long-sleeved tshirt dress, and paired it with a pair of short boots. You pulled your hair up, swiped on mascara and eyeliner, and called it good. At the last second you remembered deodorant.

You were back in the living room in ten minutes. Sam was already there, slouched on the couch, scrolling through his phone. He glanced up at you and smiled.

“You look nice,” he said politely before promptly going back to his phone.

“Thank you,” you murmured, a bit embarrassed.

“Hey, di--oh, hey, Y/N,” Harrison said as he burst into the room. You were certain he’d been about to call Sam some sort of name, and smiled. “You look great.”

“Thanks,” you said again. Your face grew even hotter than before. You almost said, You, too, because he did look great. He’d changed into a black button up and gray jacket.

Tom was the last one down, his hair freshly damp from a shower, wearing a simple black tshirt and jacket. You thought that he looked good, too, and immediately felt guilty for it.

Tomorrow, you thought, Tomorrow and I’ll be back where I’m supposed to be.

The ride to dinner was a rowdy one. Harry and Harrison gleefully told you a story about how Tom had been showing off for Daisy Ridley--dropping her name so casually you felt faint just thinking about it--and almost broke his nose because he tripped. Tom kept insisting that the wind was strong and knocked him off balance, which only made the other boys laugh harder. Sam was mostly quiet the whole ride, like you were. You got the feeling that he was shy, too.

The restaurant was more casual than you’d been expecting, which turned out to be a good thing. You all seemed to beat the dinner crowd because the place was mostly empty. The twins both told you to order whatever you want. You weren’t sure if they were joking, so you kept it simple. You had money with you too, just in case.

Somehow, you ended up between Sam and Harrison. You ended up being glad, because Sam provided you with a quiet, steady conversational partner that balanced nicely with the rowdiness of the other three.

“They like to put on a show,” Sam said at one point after your food came. Tom was regaling them with a hilarious story about the time he’d tried to pick up a girl using the Spider-Man card, only for her to laugh in his face. “They’re showing off because there’s a girl around.” He grinned. “It’ll calm down in a few days once they get used to you.”

“Yeah, they’re pretty...hyper,” you noted with half a smile. Harrison and Tom were currently arm wrestling instead of eating. You were pretty sure it was part of some complex betting system, but hadn’t worked it out completely.

“They are,” Sam agreed. “But....well, they’re always like this. Just less...this.”

For the most part, you were entertained. Your cheeks and sides hurt from laughing and you were no longer worrying about your lunch date the following day. You thanked Tom profusely for dinner as you all piled back into the car. Somehow you ended up with the passenger seat, which also seemed to be part of the betting system the boys had going on. Tom won the arm wrestling match and forced Harrison to give up his usual seat.

“Want to come to set tomorrow?” Tom asked as he drove. The backseat was suspiciously quiet, broken only by the occasional hushed laugh. You suspected that there may be a video of Tom almost breaking his nose. “Daisy’ll be there, and Nick Jonas, and I could introduce you and--”

You bit your lip. “I’m sorry, I can’t. I’m meeting B/F/N for lunch.”

The entire car fell quiet.

“B/F/N?” Tom repeated. “As in, your ex-boyfriend?”

“Yeah. We’re going to meet and...talk.”

Tom hummed but said nothing else. The others stayed quiet for a while, finally breaking out in hushed whispers again as Tom turned into what you recognized as the neighborhood.

You leaned a little closer to him. “I think they’re up to something,” you said quietly.

“Oh, most definitely,” Tom whispered back with a grin. “They almost always are.”

“Do they gang up on you?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“All the time. I’m an easy target, I think. But I don’t get as embarrassed as Haz or Sam do about stuff.”

He turned into the driveway.

“Thank you, again,” you told him in the moment before he turned off the ignition as the others got out.

“You’re welcome, darling,” he murmured. “But no need to keep thanking me.”

“Sorry. I just--thanks.” You mentally smacked your forehead. “Sorry!”

Tom laughed good-naturedly and led the way inside.

You forgot about your lunch the next day until you climbed into bed. You were no longer sure you wanted things to work out as they should. Part of you--a larger part that you would readily admit--wanted to stick around and get to know these unexpected new friends.

The next morning, you told yourself that it was stupid to dress up so nice for lunch with a guy trying to break up with you, but you were going to do it anyway. Hell, it was stupid of you to go in the first place. But you couldn’t help clingy tightly to the last remnants of hope for your relationship. You wracked your brain for anything you may have done wrong over the past few months. You practiced a speech about devoting yourself to the relationship, about sacrificing everything you were doing to move to Montreal for the next six months.

You bounded down the hall in the morning, makeup and hair perfect, wearing the wine-red dress that B/F/N had always adored. It was probably too fancy for lunch, but you dressed it down with your shoes and a casual jacket. You wanted to make an impression, was all.

You let a surprised shriek upon finding Sam lurking in the kitchen, making himself brunch or a snack or something.

“Sorry!” you exclaimed. “I thought you all had left by now.”

Sam smirked at your reaction. “Nah, Harry and I took  the morning off to edit a project. What’re you all dressed up for?”

“Lunch. With B/F/N. Remember?”

“Ahh. Well...have...fun?” Sam flushed red and promptly disappeared.

You put the restaurant’s address into your GPS and grabbed the keys for the rental car. Thankfully, it was only about twenty to thirty minutes away according to your phone.

You beat B/F/N to the restaurant and waited at the table for at least fifteen minutes. You were used to it, though. He had never been one to be strictly punctual. It didn’t cross your mind at first that he might have stood you up. But as time passed, you grew more anxious. You fiddled with your phone and debated texting Harrison just for something to do.

The bell over the front door dinged. You looked up, and there he was. Your stomach twisted into knots. Your body’s automatic response was to be excited, happy--making you feel like you were finally home. But you were also nervous and afraid.

“Hi,” you managed to croak out when he approached your table. He slid into the seat with barely a glance in your direction. You held yourself back from taking his hand, touching his arm, reaching out to brush his hair from his face.

“Hey,” he said softly. He opened up the menu and frowned at it. You’d had time to pick what you wanted, something else you were used to.

Several minutes passed in silence as he decided what to order and then as you both ordered. You hurriedly told the waiter that your check would be separate.

Finally, he looked up at you. As your eyes met, something pierced your heart. You could tell by his expression that there was no hope, yet you weren’t going to give up.

“So, where are you staying?” he asked eventually.

“Just...with some friends.” You didn’t feel like explaining the situation. It was too complicated, for one, and you didn’t want him telling you how irresponsible you were staying with four boys, either.

“You have friends in Montreal?” he asked, skeptical.

You shrugged. “Where are you staying?”

“Not far from here, actually. I’m set up in that big apartment building a few blocks that way.” He pointed. “It’s nice, I guess. Close to the office.”

Your heart was beginning to hurt. He suddenly seemed so far away from you.  

The food arrived; soup and a sandwich for you, a panini for him. You took a couple bites but found you weren’t hungry.

“Look, B/F/N,” you finally said. “I just...I don’t understand. Why can’t we give it another go? We can make it work. I’ll--I’ll stay here until you can transfer back home. I’ll find a part-time job. Something. Just--please.” You hated that your voice sounded so desperate but couldn’t stop. “Please.”

He very carefully set his sandwich on his plate and wiped his mouth. He was avoiding your gaze again. He took a sip of water, glanced out of the window, and then cleared his throat.

Still looking outside, he said, very quietly, “We can’t give it a try. We gave it a try for months. It--It’s just not going to work.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from crying. “But...why?”

Now he looked sad, truly sad. He looked like he was about to tell you that your grandmother was dying or something.

“Y/N...there’s another girl.”

You rocked back in your chair as if he had physically hit you. Your eyes went wide with shock and disbelief. Another girl? What did that mean? What was he saying? It took you several long minutes to find your voice.

“Another girl?” you repeated dumbly.

“Yeah, I...I don’t know. She works here, too, and we’re both getting transferred to Chicago in six months.” He shrugged.

“Have you--have you been cheating on me?” you demanded in a shrill voice.

He gave you a sharp look and shushed you. “No! No. I wouldn’t--I told her we were going to wait until you and I talked. I wouldn’t do that to you, Y/N, I’m not an asshole.”

You laughed bitterly. “Oh, so just because you haven’t slept with her, you haven’t cheated on me? You are an asshole. You--you waited until last minute before I came here to break up with me. You abandoned me in a foreign city and--” You stood abruptly. You couldn’t sit there any longer. Your chair fell over behind you with a loud clatter. People were staring now, but you didn’t care. “You left me here with no money and nowhere to stay, B/F/N. And you cheated on me.”

The tears were flowing now, but you still managed to glare at him as you gathered the keys and your purse.

“Just--fuck you.” With that, you walked out of the restaurant, shoulders hunched and shaking, face hot and wet with tears.

You turned the corner towards where you’d parked and sank onto a bench. You cried for a long, long time, your chest an empty shell. More than one person stopped to ask if you were okay--one person stopped to tell you to cry somewhere else--but you ignored them all.

An hour later, you wiped your eyes and made yourself get in the car and drive back to the house. You managed to stop yourself from crying for the drive, focusing wholly on not wrecking or getting lost.

Harrison was lounging on the couch when you got back. Harry and Sam were nowhere to be found, either in a different room or gone for the day. You froze, hoping your face didn’t look like you’d been crying for an hour.

He practically leapt to his feet when he heard the front door shut. “Y/N!” he said cheerfully. “How was lunch?”

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be on set?”

He hesitated. “No...I mean, yeah. But I came back for lunch and to, ah, see what...you were...up to…” he said slowly.

“Oh. Where are the twins? They were here when I left.”

“Went out for lunch, I suppose.” He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. “How was yours? Lunch, I mean.”

“It was…” You swallowed hard. You tried again. “It was--”

“Not good?” Harrison finished sympathetically.

You nodded, and your face crumpled. You sucked in a shuddering breath and tried to stop the tears. “I’m sorry,” you said around the lump in your throat. “I keep doing this to you.”

“No, no, no, it’s alright, love,” Harrison said gently. He strode over to you and gently touched your arm. “I’m sorry.”

“He--he ch-cheated on me,” you managed to get out. You started crying harder.

Harrison cursed softly. Then he was suddenly pulling you close, wrapping his arms around you, gently stroking your hair. “I’m sorry,” he repeated again.

You didn’t cry for nearly as long this time, and you figured it might have something to do with the cute, kind boy holding you. He smelled vaguely like grass and fresh laundry and boy. You gently disentangled yourself and managed a smile.

“I’m sorry I keep bursting into tears on you like that,” you said sheepishly. “I promise I don’t usually cry all the time.”

Harrison smiled. “It’s okay, I know it’s either because of your break-up...or my ugly face.” He winked.

“You’re not ugly,” you said defensively before you could think about the words. You blushed. So did he.

“Well...thanks,” he mumbled. The tips of his ears were bright red. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “Got any plans for the rest of the day?”

“No. I thought I’d stay here and just...relax.”

Harrison studied you for a moment with his piercing blue eyes. Then he nodded. “Alright then. Well, I should be getting back to set. Want to...come tomorrow?”

You gave him a genuine smile. “I’d like that. Very much.”

He grinned back at you.

The boys all got back relatively late that night. You’d eaten pizza again and fallen asleep on the couch with a book on your chest.

“--was so cool, I didn’t really know how to react,” one of them was exclaiming. You woke with a start. You managed to catch your book before it hit the floor. Another of the boys cracked a joke and they all laughed.

“Shit, shh shh!” one of them said. It sounded like Tom. “She’s sleeping! Shh!”

They quieted down. They were like children, though, and their “quiet” wasn’t really very quiet. The noise moved into the kitchen where something was dropped. There were muffled curses and laughter.

A smile grew on your face.

You got up quietly and padded down the hall to your room. You didn’t make it far before you bumped into someone. Harrison.

“Sorry,” you both said at the same time.

“Off to bed already?” he asked.

“Mm, yeah. Long day. Plus it’s already--” You checked the time on your phone. “--almost eleven.”

“Are you still...coming to set tomorrow?” You thought that his expression was hopeful but told yourself you were reading too much into it.

“Of course! I can’t pass up the chance to meet a Jonas brother. And Rey.” Your face went blank for a second just thinking about the big stars. “Oh my god--maybe I shouldn’t go. I’ll just embarrass myself.”

“Oh, come on, darling,” Tom’s voice said from behind you. “You’ve already met Spider-Man and haven’t embarrassed yourself.”

You grinned a bit mischievously. “No offense, Tom...but you aren’t as famous as Nick Jonas or Daisy Ridley.”

A chorus of Ooh!s and Oh shit!s came from Tom’s two brothers and best friend. They all cracked up. Tom held up his hands in surrender.

“Ouch, Y/N,” he said. He placed a hand on his heart like you had stabbed him in the chest.

“Here,” Sam said with a laugh as he passed a couple of ice cubes to Tom. “For the burn.”

That set them all off again. “Tom, you just aren’t that famous,” Harry kept repeating, doubled over with laughter. Harrison said, “Sorry, mate,” more than once through his laughter. Tom kept pretending to be wounded, but he was laughing just as hard. You couldn’t help but laugh along until your sides hurt.

Things finally settled down and you bid them all goodnight. As the other three disappeared in various directions, Harrison grabbed your wrist in his hand.

He stared into your eyes for a long moment. You had never seen eyes in such a pale shade of blue before. You thought he was going to say something, like he was sorry about B/F/N or something else, but all he said was a soft, “Goodnight, Y/N,” before he let you go.

You watched him go. “Goodnight, Harrison.”

Tag-list

@beardedsteveslut  @smilesfromabove @fandomscombine @yoinkspiderling @twentychemicalpanics @marveltomjunkie @chasingsuperheroes @fairydustparker @theharrisontomytom @moonofmy-life @spidey-spooked  @mendes-holland @fat-ass-children @chinalois @lovestrucktosaturn @johnmurphys-sass @txm-h0lland @xkaciesearlex @tessa-herondale-carstairs1 @onceuponateenpanwolfian @bucky-fucking-ruined-me @heartoftheadventure @agirlwithpointlessideas @rhemagirl29 @peterparkyourassonme @secret-jester @smileylaurens @bookworm1613 @perks-of-being-a-labyrinth​ @curiouspeterparker  @aelin-firehearts-court @theres-no-paradise​  @stressedoutkylo @cubedtriangle @1022bridgetp @meg-915​ @butterfliesslugswormsandothershi​ @once-upon-a-walking-wolf-demigod @onceuponanigh1​

[chocolatemillkk]

Unrequited

Request: Maybe one where the reader is not from England but lives there because of her Youtube channel that recently became really big and she met Joe through Oli and falls for Joe but thinks she can’t keep up with other girls couse she is younger and maybe (if you write about that) thicker around the hips and stuff? But Joe likes her too and proves to her over time that he only wants her

I don’t know if this is the direction you wanted but I kind of got carried away with the fic lol 😔 but I hope you enjoy it! 💙

—————————————-

“And that’s the doorbell,” I tell my livestream. “So don’t forgot to get to Twitter and hashtag ask Y/N & Oli! Love you all!” I wave at the camera and turn it off, almost tripping on my way to get the door before Oli banged it down.

“My knuckles were starting to bruise,” Oli jokes as soon as I open the door.

“Sorry about that,” I lean in to hug my best friend. “Just finishing up the livestream.”

“I see some of the questions for our video are getting pretty out of hand.”

“Drink?” I ask Oli as I set up the camera again on the coffee table. “This is the first ask video we’ve done together so I think it’s a little like a volcano errupting for our fans.”

Oli helps himself to a pop and plops down on the couch as I make sure the lighting was alright. “Ready?”

I start the video and we start with our usual banter before we answer “How did you two meet?”

Oli looks to me so I explain how I started travelling across North America after high school in LA and used my channel to vlog it all. That’s when I began to get noticed on Youtube and when I made my way to Europe, London was the first place in a while that felt like home and at the same time, I was introduced to my current agent who was also Oli’s agent. We met up for drinks one night…

“I haven’t been able to get rid of her since,” Oli jokes.

“Who came to who with this video idea?” I ask. I look to the camera and point to Oli but he pushes me away.

“I’m just trying to help the younger gen of Youtube navigate-.”

“I’m younger than you by barely two years!” I say. This was a sore spot for me-I was 20 but a lot of the youtubers I was friends with were older than me and even if it was by two years, they sometimes made it feel like ages. I chalked it up to the fact that when I met them all, I was 19 but I was always made to feel 12 around them.

“I’m kidding!” Oli pulls me in to him and I let it go, laughing with him.

We wrap up a while later and start talking about our lives. “Hey, you’re coming to my book launch party Friday right?” Oli asks.

“Wouldn’t miss it!” I was so proud of Oli and looking forward to celebrating him.

“So,” Oli starts and I could tell he was about to say something I wasn’t going to like. “Joe’s gonna be at the party too.” I sigh, I knew Oli too well.

“That’s nice,” I say nonchalantly.

“Stop shitting me,” Oli says. “You know you like him Y/N I don’t know why you keep denying it.”

“Even if I did what am I supposed to do about it Oli?”

“You always avoid him, never hang out with all the boys, making up excuses!”

“I’m too embarassed! And he probably thinks I’m like, 12! He’s 26 Oli! And he’s got tons of girls his age falling over to get with him. I’m not gonna-”

“You’ve liked him since before you even decided to live here permanently,” Oli says more gently.

“Oh my god and do you remember what happened the first time I met him?!”

Oli groans, “I swear he doesn’t even care about that!”

I shake my head no, the memory reliving itself. It was my first summer in London and I had decided to tag along with new friends to go clubbing. But I was new to the city and terrible with directions. Long story short, I got way too drunk, lost my way from the group and ended up sat on the doorstep of a random house. I called Oli, the only person I knew well enough then and blabbered on about being lost and vomitting into somebody’s rosebush. I didn’t know Oli was hanging out with Joe that night and Joe was the one with the car. My worst nightmare ensued:

I was picked up by both Joe and Oli after enabling Find my iPhone. I had mascara streaks and my makeup was smudged off and I looked like I escaped an asylum. I remember Joe being the sweetest, asking if I wanted to go back to his place but I insisted they drop me home. I interacted with Joe a few times but it was always awkward until he confronted me-Oli probably told him about it. He was really sweet and insisted he didn’t see me as a child and that he was actually watching my channel before I even landed in London. But I was still tended to avoid him because I was in love with him.

“Honestly Oli, I appreciate you trying to set me up but please piss off.”

Oli doesn’t look happy but he backs off.

Friday comes soon enough and I take extra care in doing my makeup. Even though I told myself I wasn’t, knowing Joe was there made me want to look really good. Especially after watching all 5 of his new videos and getting drunk last night. Oli’s party was starting at 7 and it was already a quarter after. I yank on my jacket as my phone rings-A number I don’t recognise.

“Hello?”

“Y/N,” the other voice says. “When are you coming down?”

“Who is this?” I ask, the voice sounded familiar but I couldn’t place it.

“Very funny, my legs are starting to cramp I’m parked in your garage.”

“No honestly who is this?”

The voice pauses. “Joe? Didn’t Oli tell you I was picking you up?”

“Oh shit,” I check my phone and see the text lost in a sea of notifications. I promise to be down and hang up. Why the hell did Oli always meddle like this.

“I’m so sorry about that,” I apologise to Joe as I get in his car.

“I’m more offended that you didn’t have my number saved,” Joe says.

“Oh god,” I try to think of something to say but it’s hard to because the whole situation I hadn’t anticipated.

“Makes sense though because you don’t like me.”

“What? Of course I do!” I choke out. “We’ve just never really hung out!”

“And who’s fault is that?” Joe raises an eyebrow.

“Not mine!” I defend myself. “I think I’m a little too young for your crowd anyway.”

“Y/N,” Joe says gently. “Why do you always come back to this point. I would love seeing your face more whether you were 20 or 30.” Joe’s face turns slightly pink as he smiles at me. “You look lovely as always by the way,”

“Oh-thanks…you look really nice too.” I gesture to his classic black jeans and a pink silk button up. “And thanks I guess, I guess you’ll see me a lot more then.”

Joe rests his hand on my knee and squeezes. “I would like that.”

A comfortable silence hums throughout the car as we drive, no one reaches for the radio and I watch as the first drops of rain trail down my window. The red traffic light illuminates the droplets as they trail down the window and I trace one with my finger.

I look up at the light and notice from the corner of my eye that Joe was watching me, I blush and turn to look just as the light turns yellow and Joe looks away. His cheeky grin lets me know I had caught him staring. Gods, I was so helplessly in love with Joe and I hated how helplessly inadequate I felt for him. But somehow he managed to make me feel so special every time I saw him and he smiled for me.

I break away from Joe as we get to the party, needing some space to sort out my feelings. I track down Oli and after scolding him I give him a congratulations hug before I grab a drink-a cider of course. I watch Joe joke about with his friends and from my seat on the barstool, I glimpse as gorgeous girls joke and flirt with him. And of course, he laughs right back with them, his hands reaching out to them every so often. I turn away, Joe acted like that with every girl…I don’t know why I thought I was anyone different. I hop off the stool and head to the window that overlooks the wharf-the venue here was beautiful.

“Thought I would sneak you one since you would probably get carded,” Joe sneaks up next to me out of nowhere and hands me a champagne flute. I laugh, painfully aware of my age the age gap already.

“Thank you,” I toss back the drink as someone else joins us.

“Oi, who’s serving illegal drinks here,” Oli’s other friend-Jack Maynard grins at the both of us. I sigh, “What drink?” I clinks his glass with my empty one.

“Let the lady enjoy her drink,” Joe wraps his arm around me, his fingers burning into the exposed skin of my dress. “She acts more your age than you do.”

“Joe, you let us tape you to your closet door the other day,” Jack says seriously and I giggle, having seen the video.

“Oi don’t laugh at him,” Joe whispers loudly enough for us to hear. He pulls me in closer to him and I feel my heart flutter.

“What are we whispering about here?” Conor joins the group and so does Oli. I flash him a look because I wasn’t so sure what to do in the situation where the unrequited love of your life is holding you like a lover.

“Did you want a drink?” Oli asks instead. He grabs my glasses and heads to the bar anyway.

“We’ll keep you liquored if you keep quiet,” Conor laughs.

“You guys are no good for me,” I joke. The space where Joe was is suddenly empty so I turn and see him talking to another Youtuber I recognise.

“You look so handsome tonight Joe,” she compliments.

“Oh no you’re the one stealing the show,” Joe compliments back. She laughs and I turn away, looking to the other boys.

“So when does the good music come on?” I ask.

“Should I get the microphone?” Conor asks and we all laugh but Jack rolls his eyes. Oli comes back with a drink and I sip it. “Oli if you’re in charge of this music please put on something we can all dance to.”

“I’m not,” Oli scratches his head. “But I can see what I can do.”

“So Y/N Oli and you are really good friends but you know, is there anything more? Do you like him or something?” Jack asks as Oli leaves.

“No!” I recoil. That was so weird to think about. “Why are you even asking?”

“Yeah Jack, what’s your interest?” I didn’t realise Joe had rejoined the conversation and my face flames with embarassment.

Jack only gives me a cheeky wink and turns to leave. I look at Conor and he simply shrugs his shoulders, trailing behind his brother. I don’t want to look at Joe but I do and his face is stony.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“Nothing…maybe Jack’s wondering about your availability…” his mouth is a hard line as he watches Jack leave.

I play it off by nudging his shoulder, “Jack’s too pretty for my liking.”

Joe’s face slowly melts into a grin, “So what is to your liking?”

I scramble for an answer as the music turns off and on into upbeat dance music. “Dance?” I ask Joe.

The lights dim further as Joe joins me on the dance floor. The drinks from earlier loosen me up and I feel myself slightly tipsy as I sing along to some of the songs. The bodies around me dance to the bass and when I look to see if Joe was beside me, he still is but his expression is one I’d never seen before. His baby blues are dark and he watches me with fierce intensity. I sway towards him and grab his hands.

“What’s up?” I mouth. Joe moves closer to me and his cloudy face breaks up into a small smile.

“You’re so beautiful,” Joe whispers in my ear and this time I actually feel the blood rush to my head as I try not to stumble over. I place Joe’s hands on my waist and place my arms on his shoulders.

“I know you always tell me you’re too young for me and I know you think I want to be with someone my age but Y/N,” Joe’s voice pauses near my ear and his hands travel down my sides. I pull away, realising how fast things were moving. I push out from the crowd and my world spins as I rush to the corridor.

“Y/N!” Joe calls from behind. I lean my back against the cold tiles and watch him approach me again. In the fluorescent lighting I can see the sweat on his brow but his eyes still smolder.

“Y/N, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to come on to you that hard.”

“It’s not that,” I try to explain.

“So what is it?” He asks, placing a hand on my hips and another on my side. I push him away. That’s what it was-it’s not that I had an issue with my body but having his hands on the parts of me I always poked at in the mornings made me self-conscious. What if he didn’t like what he saw? What if he’s had better?

“Do you not want this?” Joe licks his lips nervously.

“More than anything,” I say before I can stop myself. “But I-Joe I don’t understand why you like me. I almost threw up in your car the first time we met and I’m a full 6 years younger than you. And you’ve got a million other girls who are more mature that would love to be with you.”

“You think I’m looking for a mature older girl?” Joe runs his fingers through his hair aggressively and holds my hands. “I bloody want you Y/N and I’m tired of you second guessing that. Just drop your defences okay? I want you.”

My breath catches and I push myself off the wall. “Wanna head back to my place?” I ask.

Joe leaves a slow kiss along my jawline and then tugs me towards the elevators. The drive home is a flurry of red-light kisses and trying to keep our hands off of each other so we can get there in one piece. When we finally reach the bedroom I blush when Joe’s eyes scan my body and then bite his lip.

“Y/N,” he sighs. “Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are?”

“I-I dunno,” I stammer. Joe looks at me, puzzled. “I’m not really like those other girls online.” I wrap my arms around myself self-consciously but Joe removes them and replaces them with his.

“Those are edited and filtered and you are real and beautiful and I would never take my hands off of you if given the choice.” He chuckles and buries his head in my neck, showing me his words’ worth.

“Joe I really like you,” I mumble.

Joe responds by cradling my face in his hands and enveloping my mouth with his. I want more so I bite down on his lip and it’s like it breaks the spell as we grab at each other hungrily and fall into bed.

Soon, we’re tangled limbs, stolen kisses, and lingering touches as we discover each other for the first time under the dim evening lighting and my soft white sheets. Maybe I had a chance with Joe Sugg after all.