#if nobody got me i know birds singing outside got me can i get an amen

[dragoncarrion]

listen to a little zebra finch go "cheep cheep" and maybe you'll calm down

[jawllines]

But how could she voice this? Nobody else had made her request it explicitly, so she really wasn’t sure what to request. Any version of her saying it just sounds more and more pathetic, to speak the words aloud would be embarrassing. 

“You want me to stay?” Harry offered, after some time, and she was grateful for it as she nodded, “Just in the room?” 

Her face feels warm as her eyes glance over to the other side of her bed, “It’s. . .it’s a big bed,” she told him, swallowing thickly, “You can lay down if you're tired.” 

Harry’s lips quirk into a tiny, halfway smile, and Y/N had seen that look enough to know some form of a taunt typically follows it, “Oh I see,” he began, lifting himself up onto her bed and crawling over her body to get to the side she offered, “Was this a ploy to get me into your bed? You could have just asked, Sweetheart, but I would have asked for dinner first.” 

or

Y/N finds out a secret and Harry finds a rat 

part 1

part 2

iii.

Y/N has never been so embarrassed.

The hike was her idea; granted, she’s not a big hiker to begin with, and she hardly believes the sneakers she wore were meant for more than casual ambling in a park — but she thought it could be fun. After being cooped up in her flat for a little over a week, she was desperate just to breathe in the fresh air and feel the sun on her skin. It was one thing to be locked away when the weather was bitter and uninhabitable, but it was finally getting warmer, and whispers of Spring were carried in the wind. An open window could only preclude her feelings of claustrophobia for so long before she needed to go outside.  

Since Harry could typically get Thomas to agree to things she’d never thought he might agree to before, he was the one she asked. However, due to the recent attempted kidnapping, even he seemed reluctant to the proposal and Y/N had imagined her plans had fallen through before they’d even truly been constructed. At least she did until Harry sent her a message a little past midnight the following night, with a link that directed her to a trail’s website. Would this be okay? His message read, and Y/N grinned so hard her cheeks were sore as she replied with “Yes!” ten times. 

Y/N is not one who would find joy in exerting herself but she was filled to the brim and gushing with an eagerness she hasn’t felt since being a child, the night before visiting a zoo. She did not for a second consider how sore she’d probably be, especially from the number of hills this trail included along the side of what wasn’t big enough to be a mountain but was certainly large enough to give the illusion. All she could focus on was the thought of the wind kissing her face and the sound of morning birds singing. Aching muscles be damned, she could just take a hot bath when they got back, and maybe she could persuade Harry to massage her feet if it was that bad. 

By the time Y/N woke up Friday morning, Harry was already in her kitchen preparing breakfast but that was hardly shocking. It was her second time witnessing him outside of a pressed suit and she couldn’t say that she was disappointed; Harry looked awfully cute in his hiking clothes. A hoodie that swallowed him up, athletic shorts pulled over black leggings, and a pair of bright red shoes that she could not imagine him plucking out of a store. A beanie was nestled over his head, but he had a hair clip locked around the edge of it, almost like he had it on standby in case he got too warm. 

He turned to face her, smiling warmly as he flipped a pancake, “I didn’t know if you had a water bottle, so I brought an extra one,” he greeted her, “And I bought some of those warm packs you activate by shaking in case it’s chillier than we anticipated.” 

“We need to get a stroller for your kitties so they can come too,” Y/N told him, as she hiked herself up on the barstool beside the counter, Harry working on the side adjacent to her. She rested her face against her fist, watching him putter around putting together the meal. There was something imminently gratifying about putting a man to work in her kitchen while she swung her legs and waited patiently to be fed, so she reveled in that feeling while he answered. 

“I actually do have a stroller,” he told her, “But since this is our first time, I thought it would be better to see the trail before bringing them.” 

With a sigh, Y/N agreed. Harry has brought them over three times since the first and Y/N enjoyed every second of it – he’d explained to her that as long as she doesn’t mind, he’ll bring them over often. This way he gets to spend extra time with them while he’s working and Y/N gets her animal fill as they meander throughout her flat, making it their second home. He’s even left them there overnight once, when he would be returning the following morning but wasn’t necessarily going home (their schedules make no sense to her, not even a little, and she wondered when the hell they ever slept), and Y/N really liked that. She woke up to Gremlin at her feet and Goose nestled against her breast beneath the blankets (and if she hadn’t been so sure that moving would stir them both, she would have taken a picture to send to him). 

They ate breakfast and Y/N pulled on an outfit she hoped would be multifunctional no matter what weather they would face or how much exerting herself would make her sweat. Even the walk to the parking garage lifts her with excitement, happy to finally be leaving the flat. 

“You’re awful chipper,” Harry remarked, following close behind her, his fingers looped around his keys, “Normally for this early in the morning, you’ve grumbled about something by now.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Of course I’m chipper,” she walked around to the passenger seat of the car, “I’m free for a little while! You forget that I’m fucking stuck in there until someone breaks me out, while you can come and go as you see fit, really.” She smiled at the thought of the sun hitting her face, “It’s going to be so nice today too – I can’t wait.” 

“Mm, it is going to be nice,” he agreed mildly, “I’ll keep you out for as long as I can, yeah? But I’m sure Thomas will be blowing my phone up.” He smiled gently, “Things are still. . .fresh.” 

Y/N buckled herself in, brows dipped, “Hm? Did you guys not catch the guy? I thought you did and that’s the only reason I’m being uncaged.” 

“We did,” Harry’s lips straightened out, a dubious glint flickered past his gaze before he snuffs it out, “For the most part.” 

“For the most part?” She repeated with a small sigh – she wasn’t in the mood for twenty questions, she just wanted him to be straightforward.

Harry hummed, “Yes, they found the “mugger” –  it was his son,” Y/N’s brows raised, “Both have been dealt with appropriately for now but of course, everyone is still concerned that this wasn’t just an isolated incident. Things are going to be. . .a little tighter lately, so I was surprised Thomas agreed to this in the first place, but I did push pretty hard.” 

She smiled and nudged his shoulder, “That’s why I like you,” she told him, “Dunno’ what you’re doing to bewitch him but keep doing it, I like doing things.” 

The day had started out so well; Y/N isn’t sure how Harry had found this trail but it was pretty. It started out as a gravel patch of parking lot with a big wooden sign that read Green Haven Trail in big, bold letters, and to the left of it, a small brick building housing a restroom. It had rained last night, so the air smelled of moist earth and morning dew, and it’s a scent that she believes she normally takes for granted. Right now she isn’t though – right now she feels it slip through her nares, down to her lungs. She was more than pleased that it isn’t humid or else each breath would feel wet, and her skin would feel sticky, and she thinks that would have made her sad. Her first time out of the flat in how long, only to be accosted by unpleasant weather? Surely, she’d just lock herself in her room at that point. 

Most of the trail was paved but there were clear sections deeper in, where people had broken off from the designated path and wore down the grass and foliage to create a new route. If she couldn’t see where this off-path trail led, then she wouldn’t have suggested they go near it, but she could make out that it guided them to a mini waterfall from a creak. And after the rain, she knew it would be overflowing and beautiful, so she suggested they go toward it with the best pleading gaze she could give him (though it certainly wasn’t necessary – she believes Harry is a man of strong will typically, but if she asks him for something he typically gives in pretty easy). 

For a moment he seemed hesitant but eventually agreed, so they went toward it, and Y/N marveled at the rocks, the surfaces altering from smooth to rough and jagged, how the water toppled over them dropping down into the large well of the creek. If the weather was just a little warmer she would suggest sticking her feet in but it was still a little too brisk for it. So she made a mental note of this place for mid-June when the hike would undoubtedly be miserable in the summer heat, but the best part of it would be sinking their feet into this well of cold water and kicking them as they cooled down and ate a snack. Y/N assumed she would be with Harry again because. . .well, she usually is with him, isn’t she? 

They stayed there for a while for a short break, since they’d been walking for about thirty minutes uphill at that point. Y/N’s legs were already tired and she was in the middle of trying to find an excuse for them to turn around and start making their way back before she was really tired – but there was no need. No, why would she need a reason for them to turn around when she unwittingly gives them one? 

They had to trek down a small hill to get within closer visual distance of the waterfall and search the creek with their gazes for any potential fish or tadpoles swimming around in the greenish water. Going downhill to get there, meant going uphill to return, and while it wasn’t steep there was a decent-sized slope. Several jutted pieces of stone and rock and root should have made it a relatively easy way back up. Yet somehow, when Y/N tries to balance the sole of her shoe against the curve of a rock, she loses her footing. Her body rocks face first into the dirt, and she knocks her knee against a stone and cuts up her palm from the tree root she’d been gripping onto. Before she could tumble all the way down to the creek, Harry placed his hands on her to keep her steady, one at her hip and the other between her shoulder blades, “Holy shit!” He cried out, his voice echoing in the empty woods, “Are you alright?” 

So now, they definitely had to turn back, because Y/N had dirt smudged on her face, a few leaves in her hair (though Harry did pluck those out for her while they walked), her knee was sore, and her palm was cut up. Y/N doesn’t cry but she wants to, not just because her knee aches, or her hand throbs, or the dirt makes her face feel gross and grimy. All of that she could deal with well enough. 

What she couldn’t deal with, was the fact that she fell in the first place, in front of Harry of all people. How embarrassing – god, she couldn’t stop thinking about it but she wanted to wipe it from her brain entirely and pretend it never happened. But Harry is Harry, there is no way that he would ever let this go without making a sly comment about it every now and then. Especially once she’s all patched up and he knew for sure she was okay. 

She kept replaying the moment in her head: the squawky sound that left her mouth, how dumb she must have looked as she scrambled to stop herself only for Harry to be the one to halt her movement. He probably thought she looked like an idiot – no, she knows he did because why wouldn’t he? If it had happened to anyone but her, Y/N would have found some humor in it, and maybe she was just a bad person but there were compilations of people falling on the internet for a reason. 

Under different circumstances, Y/N would avoid the bathroom at all costs because it seemed like a staff infection waiting to happen but she tried to get into this one, only to find it locked. So not only did she embarrass herself in front of Harry, she had to sit in the car for forty minutes, uncomfortable, her knee aching and her face dirty. At the realization, she felt like she really could cry then, but the only thing that stopped her was the potential for further embarrassment.

“It could have been worse,” Harry tried to soothe her once they were back in the car, “Had I not been there to save your life, you could be in the creek right now.” 

“Shut up, or I’ll shove you in a creek,” she grumbled, brows furrowed at him, “Didn’t you promise to return me unscathed? This is coming out of your paycheck.” He only chuckles at her. 

The drive home was uneventful, and so was the walk up to her flat. As soon as they get through the doors, Harry directs her to the bathroom and says he’d be in there in a moment with a first aid kit, and Y/N has no fight left to argue. She went in, avoided looking at her face, and plopped down right on the toilet seat, waiting patiently for him. Harry appeared, looking a little too cute out of his leggings, now only in shorts that rode up pretty high on his thigh. He’s got nice legs – Y/N’s been thinking about them often lately. 

First, he tends to her palm, flipping it over and pouting at the sight of it, “Your poor hand,” he muttered sympathetically, caressing the flesh just below her thumb, “Does it hurt?” 

Y/N is unsure if he’s mocking her with how sweet his voice was, but she doesn’t fuss over it – honestly, she kind of likes it, “Yeah, a little.” She replied and he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. 

“Poor thing,” he reached inside the kit, “We’ll get you sorted.” 

After he cleaned it, then slathered it in the antibiotic ointment, and wrapped it up with gauze and a bandage, he got a washcloth wet. It took her a second to realize what he was about to do, until he was suddenly closer to her face than she expected, tenderly swiping away at the dirt smudged over her face. Y/N has trouble keeping her breathing even then. 

This is the closest she and Harry had been since the night they kissed, and she couldn’t keep her brain from conjuring memories of it. Especially when his lips were looking particularly soft today, and slick from whatever chapstick he was using, almost like they were begging for another mouth to press against them. The gentle curve of his cupid’s bow and the pout of his mouth supplicates for her lips to trap it between them. To relive last week, how eagerly he’d kissed her, how his hands had slid to her waist, how he squeezed her –

Honestly, Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about it. She was skilled at acting indifferent to things like this and she’s certain Harry didn’t notice it was dawdling within her thoughts because he would have brought it up – but that didn’t mean it wasn’t. Every day, a few times a day, Y/N is suddenly accosted with a slew of images, all of which involve Harry's puckered mouth. 

Because she’d like to do it again – she wanted to do it again, but there was no way to just ask for it, was there? Not without being weird about it. At least that night they had been drinking, and if they really wanted to they could blame it on liquid loosening prior inhibitions. If Y/N was asking for it completely sober, then there was no turning back from that – then it was something they had to talk about and that’s difficult. Not to mention, she shouldn’t be canoodling with her bodyguards anyway. The time with Niall was a one-off, and she’d never had the urge or desire to do it again (well, maybe once or twice, but that was neither here nor there) – but she wanted it again with Harry. Honestly, she thinks she wants more than just the kiss with Harry. 

And they hadn’t even really discussed the first one yet! Why would they tack on a second kiss? 

With Niall, it was much easier; she sucked him off, and he came in her mouth, they laughed about it and then tried to finish the movie they were watching before both of them promptly fell asleep. When they woke up there was no awkward tension lingering in the air, she swatted him with a pillow so that he would get off the couch and go with her to a new cookie place as he’d promised. Life settled back in as normal, Y/N barely remembered what his cum tasted like after eating an iced sugar cookie, and that was that. 

But with Harry, the whole night persists in her memories. How he admitted to being jealous thinking about her with Niall, and how he wants to be her favorite guard. The taste of his tongue and the impression of his mouth pushed against hers. How he pressed his thumb into her chin and pulled her lips open wider for himself, how heady the feeling was, the caress of his fingers on her hips, her wrists, her jaw. Her cheeks warm when she thinks about crawling into his lap, how she felt him hard beneath her before he pulled away – before he stopped it from going any further. 

Y/N couldn’t help but wonder just how far it would have gone had he not withdrawn from her. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” Harry murmured, and only then does Y/N realize that she’d been staring directly at him as he still carefully wiped away the dirt, “I’m getting shy.” 

Brows pinching toward each other, Y/N frowns at him, “You’re like three centimeters from my face, where the hell else am I supposed to look?” She praises herself for willing the words so quickly from her mouth, instead of floundering how she wanted to when she’d been caught gawking (Harry always teased her that she reverted to her extreme “brat-ish tendencies” once cornered and she continuously proved him right). 

Harry has a knowing smile that Y/N wants to flick off his face like he could read her mind through each of her pores. He always kind of had that look on him though, that would suggest he knew what Y/N was thinking and feeling before maybe even she did. It annoyed her more than anything. 

“You’re being rather rude to someone who saved a clumsy little thing like you from drowning in a creek.” He murmured, standing up from the spot he’d been kneeling before her and tossing the wet cloth into the sink with a wet slap. He holds one finger out to her, a silent command to stay put, and Y/N finds herself listening to him until he returns with a bottle of water. With that in one hand, he pulled open her medicine cabinet and retrieved the paracetamol, popping the cap open and shaking two into his palm, “You need to take these or your knee is going to be sore. Say ahhh,” he held them in his fingers, hovering them over her mouth. 

She scoffed, “My knee is already sore. Give me that, you dick,” she clasps her hands around his, swiping the pills and pushing them past her lips before grabbing for the bottle of water. 

“There you go,” he ignored her insult, “That’s a good girl – y’know, you’re a brat, but you listen well when you want to. Kind of like a fussy cat.” 

A flush of warmth ran from her face, down her throat, and across her chest – the praise, no matter how backhanded, was still praise and Y/N felt her veins twinkle with it. Harry doesn’t seem to notice how it affects her, and if he does, then he is kind enough not to be a pest for once and keep it to himself. He held out his hand for her to take, helping her lift off the seat, “You aren’t limping, which is good, but we’ll still ice it. If you show up to your parent’s house with a bruised knee and scratched-up hand, I’m sure it wouldn’t be appreciated.” 

The reminder makes her grimace – she’d almost forgotten about that. Adam was the first to tell her about it weeks and weeks ago, and then her father reminded her just last week, yet she let it slip her mind again. Willfully she lets it slip from her mind, neglecting the thought – it was always a little awkward meeting with everyone. When she was little, they would coo over her and how cute she was which she had enjoyed at the time, but she had long since passed the age of being cooed at because she was in a pretty dress. And when she was little, she could fuck off and play pretend somewhere with her cousins or by herself and nobody questioned anything because she was like 7 years old and barely knew how to divide numbers. 

Y/N longs for the solace of being little and not needing to be socially present during family events; life was much easier when she could check out and nobody cared. 

“Are you going with me?” Y/N inquired as she followed him out of the bathroom, tugging down the zipper of her jacket and wiggling it off her arms. 

“Hm?” 

“To the family thing,” she dropped the jacket in her hamper, leaving her in a sports bra but she thinks nothing of it while she waits for his response, “Were you the one going with me?” 

Harry pauses, if only for a brief second, and Y/N sees a look she’s never seen before flicker through his face before he’s smiling again, “Aw, cute! You want me to be there with you?” 

She did, for some reason, she felt like it would be better with him there. Adam and Niall always get pulled off at things like this, but Y/N felt like Harry might stay by her side for it. She had nothing to base this feeling on beyond just knowing it in her gut. 

And when she doesn’t grumble or call him an asshole for teasing her, Harry must realize she’s serious, because the gleam in his eyes softens to one that is gentle and pitying, “It won’t be me accompanying you, though I would love to,” he told her, “I’m wanted elsewhere that day.” 

She frowned at him, already feeling the whine bubble in her chest before he could finish his sentence, “Just tell them that you don’t want to do that and you want to do this instead.” 

“As much as the princess’s word is considered –” 

“Eat shit.” 

“ – I believe that request would be denied. Thomas wants me for a more delicate and potentially violent matter, so that’s where I’ll be.” He sighed, thumbing over his eyebrow, “Though you do manage to be delicate and violent as well, maybe I could ask for a trade.” 

Y/N flipped him off before plopping down on the couch, watching as he began to kick off his shoes at the doorway now that they were settling inside. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if the reason Harry wasn’t going was more than him being needed elsewhere but she couldn’t come up with good enough logic to back the claim. Unless he was the Harry from her childhood, and he was desperately trying to avoid a situation where that fact may be found out, but even that doesn’t seem like his speed. He was much too casual and unconcerned for her to think he’d go to that level just to keep up some weird little secret. 

That doesn’t mean she’s a hundred percent convinced, but she just dwells on it a little less. 

“It’ll be okay, you know,” Harry says after a while, as he’s opening up her windows, pulling the curtains open to let sunlight pour into her room; it glitters off her coffee table and places a glare over her tv, and the sweet chirp of birds still singing early in the morning fills her flat (along with the sound of cars driving below them but the morning traffic had slowed considerably by that point), “Just a few hours of family shit, and then you’ll be done. Can come home and take a shower and relax afterward.” Y/N follows him around the room as he goes to her other window, “It won’t be so bad. Maybe you’ll even have a little fun.” 

She doesn’t have it in her to fight him, “Yeah, maybe,” she offered quietly in return, leaning her head back and letting her eyes flutter closed, trying to ignore the throbbing in her knee, “It just feels weird to see them is all, and having nothing to show for the years that have passed since I’ve seen them last. Like. . .I dunno, I have to sit and listen to everyone else and their successes and I’m happy for them but I can’t help but. . .wish that I had something too. But all I’ve got is attempted kidnappings and a hobby that I haven’t perfected when I’ve got nothing but time to perfect it.” Y/N puffs a mirthless laugh. 

“Self-depreciation doesn’t look good on you,” he clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth and he sounds closer than he was before but she keeps her eyes shut, “Why don’t you start selling your art?” 

That does make her peek an eye at him, “Listen, I know I’m having a little pity party, but I don’t need you being mean and adding to it.” 

“I’m not being mean,” he retrieved a package of frozen vegetables from her freezer before he made his way to sit down beside her, body turned so he faced her directly, “I’m giving you an idea. Your art is good, and all the comments people have made on it in class tell you how cute the things you draw are. So yeah, maybe they wouldn’t sell in some smarmy art gallery, but they would definitely make a cute sticker on a water bottle or a laptop case. And what’d you get your degree in, wasn’t it business related? Marketing?” Y/N’s face pinches up. 

“So?” 

“So put two and two together, Darling, you’re smart,” he told her, “You make cute stickers and you have some understanding of marketing – start selling them online!” 

It. . .wasn’t the worst idea she’s ever heard. The people in the class had called her drawings cute, even the instructor had told her they were charming in a cutesy way. If other people liked them – if Harry really thought that other people would like them enough to stick them somewhere they had to look often – that would give her something to do, wouldn’t it? Something to focus on. . .something that could entirely be her own, and didn’t have to be a question of her safety, with no worry about getting her from point A to point B, and her name wouldn’t be out there. She could do it all under a different name! Loads of Etsy shops and the like don’t have the artist’s real name at all. 

It could just be her own little thing, and if it didn’t work, she could scrap the idea and pretend it never happened. But it was something. . .it could be hers. 

“Hm.” That is all she replied, despite the cogs clicking and turning in her brain. 

Harry sighed, plopping down in the space beside her, “I reckon you just like being difficult,” he told her, stretching one long leg out so it was sitting beneath the table, “Hm? I think you like trying to rile me up.” 

“Maybe.” 

                                                           .                                .                            .

Y/N has been having nightmares. 

As a child, she used to get them a lot. Sometimes they could be vivid; feel as real as a memory and Y/N would have trouble separating what was real and what was a dream. It was an unfortunate byproduct of a burdened subconscious, or at least that’s what the child psychologist told Thomas. And he then took a far more strict and tender approach to isolate her from the world of her parent’s work, which Y/N never really understood. Why wait until a child begins to show emotional distress before keeping them from something potentially emotionally distressing? 

They come and go, depending on the current state and status of her life. Times of stress brought them prolonged and heavy, bogging down her brain like waterlogged branches in a typically dry terrain. A monsoon of shadowy figures, hushed low voices, and crimson puddles. Trying to close her eyes but they’re being held open, trying to move through dense air with gelatinous limbs, trying to scream but her voice just barely leaves her throat. It’s nothing but frustration bubbling to her boil through her veins in the worst way, and when she finally does wake up, it lingers for a few minutes as she acclimates to being conscious.  

Once she has one, she’ll have them almost nightly until the problem is addressed or they eventually wither away. She doesn’t bring them up much – Niall and Adam know about them, but Thomas isn’t aware, though she doesn’t think he’d actually care. And she isn’t sure if her parents were even aware of her first round of them when they had concerned the nannies and guards enough to report them to Thomas. If they did know, they never brought it up. 

So she guesses it made sense that nobody alerted Harry to their existence if they were to ever occur while he was there.

They had started happening two weeks ago, shortly after the attempted kidnapping. It was scary, though it didn’t get very far, knowing that someone could find her location so easily was worrisome for future endeavors. And had this guy been more tactful and maybe a touch more forceful, then the situation could have gone horrendously bad – she could have been in a lot of trouble, and when her mind starts wandering to what could have been waiting for her. . .it’s awful. 

For the most part, they had been pretty tame. Y/N wakes up disoriented and groggy around 4 AM, she wanders out to the living room to find whoever was there that night, and if they were awake she’d make them both tea and stay up for a while. Niall was there the first night, and when she suddenly appeared in front of him with her hand stretched out, holding a mug to him, he gave her a knowing look, “Hm? Nightmare?” She nodded, and he made room for her on the couch, moving his computer, his iPad, or whatever he had brought over to keep himself busy for the night, “Do you want to talk about it?” She shook her head, “Fine, then you’re g’na have to listen to me rant about this fucking series I’m watching because. . . .” 

Adam asks fewer questions and most of the time is asleep when she wanders out but when her door clicks open he’s pulled from his sleep with a snort, “You okay?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Mm,” he would hum, “Go back to bed then, I’m not ready to socialize.” 

“I’ll just be up for a little, you can stay asleep,” she’d assure him, but she didn’t want to be alone, so she would make her tea and then sit on her feather blue recliner (that she was surprised he isn’t inhabiting) with her phone. Adam would say he’d stay up with her but make no move to change his position, so he always ended up back to sleep anyway. 

Bill and Martha were usually asleep too when she wandered out, but they were never ones for much conversation anyway. They would open their eyes, see she is in no imminent danger, then go right back to bed and that was that (nothing and nobody could make her feel more like a little kid than those two, and Thomas when she does see him). She would putter around her kitchen quietly, but take her tea into her room, wrapped up in her blankets and clicking through Youtube videos on her telly, comforted by the knowledge she isn’t alone in the flat. 

Some days there is nobody there with her at night, maybe an extra guard lingering outside the building, but no one inhabits her living room. Those nights Y/N is suddenly confronted with the harsh reminder that she lives in a constant state of fear, gnawing at her lip, jumping at every creak or click that echoed against the walls. It makes her feel like an idiot so she doesn’t bring it up to anybody, that on a regular night being alone can be weird, but on a night she’s had a bad dream it could be weird and long. It was stupid and made her feel like a child.

Tonight, for whatever reason, the dream was a lot rougher than it had been. While the prior nightmares were more nondescript things and hazy situations that she could just tell were bad but did not have comprehensible images of – this was much more lucid. Every touch felt like a burn against her skin, the hand cupped over her mouth and squeezed her nose shut stealing her breath away, the heart racing panic struck her fast, and her fingertips felt numb. She was thrashing, her throat sore from screaming, she needed help – she needed it right then, but there was nobody there. She was alone, she’s always been alone, she’s never safe, never, never, never –

“Y/N!” 

Her eyes split open, the beat of her heart pounding through her chest and ringing through her ears, and her trembling hands stay still at her sides. It took her a few silent, panicked moments before she realized she’d been woken up from a dream, staring at the figure who slowly, but surely, becomes Harry through her bleary gaze. Almost instantaneously relief floods through her, and icy spikes that dotted her vessels are now replaced with warmth, melting them. Y/N isn’t sure if the comfort is brought by the fact that she knows she’s awake so much as it is brought by seeing Harry – he usually showed up in her dream, and dream her was always reassured by his presence. His face usually meant whatever was plaguing her was finished – whatever shadowy, dark figure digging their nails into her arm dissipated. 

It was not until Harry spoke her name again that Y/N finally realized she’d been dreaming but she was awake now. Her eyes burn and her cheeks are wet – she’d been crying? Her bones feel stiff and creaky as she pushes herself from the mattress, pressing her knuckles against her eyes to try and rub the sleep from them. “You were having a bad dream?” Harry’s voice is low, his tone gentle, like he was creeping up on a resting bear and was worried to startle it. 

Y/N nodded wordlessly. The most he gets from her is a small hum as she tries to organize herself and her thoughts; she isn’t used to someone being here as she wakes up, staring at her warily, so she tries to force herself to speed it up. She didn’t want to worry him. And now that she thinks about it, when was the last time he’d spent the night here? He probably didn’t even know she had dreams like this to begin with. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Harry pressed carefully, and there was a small thud of four feet landing on the bed. She looked over to see Goose pad over to her, rubbing up against her torso and finding a spot in her lap before a low rumble of purrs overcame her. 

“What time is it?” Y/N inquired. 

Harry looks at his watch, “2 AM.” 

“Too late to talk about it,” she murmured, though she still felt shaken up. Her hands tremble as she smoothes them down Goose’s back, searching for more comfort in the soft fur, a wobbly rise and fall of each breath from her chest, “Was I being loud?” 

Harry gave her a small, empathetic smile, “Just a little,” he told her, “We could hear you,” it took her a second to realize we meant him and the cats, “And Goose was sitting outside of your door. At first I thought maybe you were awake, talking on the phone or something but you started yelling for help.” 

Grimacing, she frowns, at the image of Harry clambering to get up and burst through her door, overwrought with worry and his adrenalin spiking. His job – the whole reason he is here – is to keep her safe. So how horrifying is it to hear that one objective may be compromised in the middle of the night, on a floor way too high for someone to have snuck through a window?  “I’m sorry, that was – that’s probably scary.” 

“Yeah, it definitely wasn’t my favorite experience,” he agreed, “But I’m glad I could wake you up from it.” She scratched between Goose’s ears, feeling warm that the cat was concerned enough to sit outside her door once she heard her. She’s sure Gremlin is still blissfully sleeping wherever he was originally. “Well, I’ll let you go back to sleep. Call me if you need anything.” 

Y/N had thought that she was feeling better – she was awake, and she knew she was awake, so there was no reason for the same rimy panic that had been suffocating her to return at the mention of Harry leaving. Nor was there a reason for her to reach out and grab his wrist before he could get too far, a pitiful refusal pulled from her lips that feel sore and dry, she’s sure from her own teeth. Harry was safe – he couldn’t leave this soon after she’d woken up, she still needed a little bit – still wanted to be near him, and to hear him talk or even just sit silently at his side. 

But how could she voice this? Nobody else had made her request it explicitly, so she really wasn’t sure what to request. Any version of her saying it just sounds more and more pathetic, to speak the words aloud would be embarrassing. 

“You want me to stay?” Harry offered, after some time, and she was grateful for it as she nodded, “Just in the room?” 

Her face feels warm as her eyes glance over to the other side of her bed, “It’s. . .it’s a big bed,” she told him, swallowing thickly, “You can lay down if you're tired.” 

Harry’s lips quirk into a tiny, halfway smile, and Y/N had seen that look enough to know some form of a taunt typically follows it, “Oh I see,” he began, lifting himself up onto her bed and crawling over her body to get to the side she offered, “Was this a ploy to get me into your bed? You could have just asked, Sweetheart, but I would have asked for dinner first.” 

“Fuck off,” she grumbled, but it held little spite to it. Y/N wiggles back down beneath her covers, and Goose – disturbed but never grouchy – walks to the side, waits for Y/N to find a position she’s content in, and then returns. Y/N lays on her side so Goose tucks herself along her belly as she likes to, curling her face into her paws. Gremlin, who must have finally roused from his own blissful slumber, appeared on the bed at Harry’s feet before taking a seat, his tail undulating behind himself, waiting patiently for Harry to snuggle beneath the blankets. 

“Had I known you slept on a cloud every night, I would have asked for this sooner,” Harry said quietly, breaking through the silence of the room, only previously broken by the whirring of her fan above them, “It smells good in here too.”

Y/N watches him closely, as his head is against her pillow. Nobody else has ever laid in her bed before, and Y/N only ever sleeps on the left side of it, so she’s sure the right feels just as it did when she bought it. It’s weird to see someone there – but it only feels natural that it would be Harry, for whatever reason. Among the cotton, rosy pink duvet cover, in a long sleeve undershirt, his body having disappeared up to his shoulders snuggled beneath the comforter. He looks cute, especially when he turns to face her, and gives her a big closed-mouth smile that she told him in the past made him look like a pleased frog.

“You’re comfortable?” Y/N inquired and once Harry nodded, she finally closed her eyes again, “That’s good.” 

Some time passes. Y/N is unsure how long, but she’s almost certain that she’s fallen asleep until Harry's voice, syrupy and smooth as it always is, slithers into her ear, “I know you don’t want to talk about it and that’s fine,” he murmured, “But I just want you to know, I would never let anything or anyone hurt you. Never.” . 

She falls asleep easily then. 

                                                               .                           .                       .

Y/N used to have nightmares when she was younger, Harry had vague memories of that.

“I had a nightmare that a bad guy tried to kill me again,” she told him casually one day when they were on the swings, like it was the most normal conversation in the world, “It really sucked. They were super mean.” 

“Did you get away?” Harry remembered being concerned, even as a child. Y/N was younger than him, not by much, but enough that he’d felt a sense of responsibility for her. Harry hated his bad dreams, so he empathized with her plight. Whenever he had a bad dream, his mum usually came into his room and comforted him, but Y/N told him once that her mum didn’t like being woken up in the middle of the night for something not urgent. If she had a bad dream and woke up scared but the sun wasn’t out, she would hug her teddy tight and will herself back to sleep – that’s what she had told him, at least. 

With a shrug of her small shoulders, she kicked her legs back and forth in smooth glides, “Dunno’, I woke up before he could.” 

He was concerned then and he was concerned now. 

When Y/N offered him the spot next to her, Harry didn’t hesitate for even a moment. If she was scared enough to stuff away that prideful, bratty side of her to request it, then Harry wouldn’t make her second guess herself. Instead, he tried to make it as normal as possible, with a small tease as he crawled in beside her. He’d resigned himself to the idea of staying awake until he knew for sure she was fast asleep. It took ten minutes or so, but eventually, her measured, even breaths and sleepy sighs lull him into his own slumber. 

Harry wakes two or three hours later, warm. Warmer than he had been when he fell asleep, which he wouldn’t have questioned if not for how icy cold Y/N typically kept her room. For a brief moment, he thinks that maybe her fan shut off and he made the conscious decision to get up and turn it back on for her, but when he moves, he feels a weight on his arm that stopped him. A weight that is different from that of Goose or Gremlin. 

Once he opened his eyes, Harry found that Y/N was snuggled up against him. 

It wasn’t in a sweet, movie-like way as things like this typically went in stories and movies. It was in a very Y/N-like way though – her left leg thrown across his hip, her body flush against him, her face halfway jammed in his chest and her arm stretched over his neck; she’s about one sleepy shuffle away from smothering him with her bicep if she moved just right. Harry thinks it’s very telling that she does not sleep with someone often because she had somehow rolled herself all the way over to his side when there had been a good distance between them to start. 

Carefully, he began to reshape her, moving her arm from over his throat. Harry had been making a conscious effort to be gentle so she stayed asleep, but a small grumble lifted into the air around them that sounds close to “Stop it.” but when Harry says her name, there is no response. Instead, she wiggles her shoulders, her arm finding a place around his waist instead, and scooted closer.

Tch, he rolled his eyes but he could feel a fond smile pulling at his cheeks, She’s even a brat in her sleep. 

Harry lets himself enjoy it for a little while. The warmth of Y/N pressed to his side, the peach-scented lotion still permeating from her skin, the feel of each rise and fall from her chest as she took a breath. His insides feel cotton-soft and melty, he traces circles in the center of her back and waits patiently for her to fall deeper into her head. Once she does, he tries again to carefully remove her from the glued position she’d been in, because while he likes being cuddled close to her, he knew she would be mortified if she woke up. 

This time she goes easily, letting him lie her arm at her side before sliding his hand beneath her thigh, attentively guiding it off of his hip. Y/N stretches, and turned away from him, her arms sliding around a pillow and hugging her face against it. What a cuddly little thing, Harry thinks, she’s probably searching for something (or someone) to put her arms around the whole night. It makes his heart twist in his chest, a weird mix between an ache and a yearning for her. He wondered if these bad dreams would disappear if she always had someone there to cuddle to her body, like an oversized stuffy. 

The idea of it has a pout forming on his lips. Y/N, in the time he’s known her, is driven heavily by physical affection that she is not receiving often. She may grouse when Adam touches her shoulder when he reaches over her head to get in the cabinet, but she leans into his hand. If Niall is around, chances are Y/N is touching him in some way, either with her legs across his lap, or their hips side by side (which. . .Harry has no right to feel an ugly twinge in his chest any time he sees it but that doesn’t stop it from happening). Martha wasn’t the soft type, but Harry had walked in on Y/N leaning against the pillow Martha held to her body while they watched the telly. When Harry had come to her room in a panic, just to see for himself that she was okay (after Otto’s botched kidnapping attempt), she melted against his knuckles that he couldn’t help but stroke against her cheeks. 

Harry had met her parents several times – they were. . .kind as they could be, with what they do, but they were not the nurturing type. They were cool and distant, and even though Harry knows they love their daughter, and talk sweetly, they just didn’t seem like the type to cuddle and coddle. And instead of growing an aversion to touch, she grew too long for it, even in small doses, even from her bodyguards. Where else could she get it? Harry is certain if she went out with her friends she would be touchy and clingy, flopped over them in some way, shape, or form. 

Gremlin moves relatively little with the change in positions, and Goose lets out an annoyed huff before following Y/N’s body, snuggling up against her back. It was almost disgustingly cute how much Goose enjoyed her girl time with Y/N; even though she was the less fickle of the two, she really didn’t warm up that easily to people but with Y/N, it only took a couple of days before she was sleeping in her lap. Harry thinks that not only are cats a good judge of character, but they seek out people who need healing, like little furry psychotherapists that say nothing but do plenty. Where he would normally be a bit jealous, he was glad that Goose had chosen Y/N to snuggle with and love on her. 

Harry sighs to himself. It’s only a matter of time before Y/N realizes that she’s been right all along about knowing him, he was just holding his breath and waiting for it. In his head, when he’d started this, the idea of keeping it all a secret from her seemed easier. There would be no need to go into the details of why he left, to relive any of it, to divulge what he had done, or to break his promise to Thomas, to his father, to her father. He could go on with her like they were two strangers and his past didn’t matter. And Harry doesn’t know why it is so important to him that she didn’t think the sweet boy he was turned into the man he is today; it felt as though it broke the mirage of normalcy his childhood had there for a little while. If the image Y/N held in her head of him was altered, it would pull at his stomach and tug around his heart. The boy she knew was good, not a drop of blood on his hands – the man she knew now had hands covered in the murk and filth of gang politics, rivalries and wars, drugs and guns. 

To keep the two mutually exclusive brought him more comfort. 

But Y/N is perceptive and she recognized him almost immediately. As smart as she was, and as sneaky as she could be, he had a feeling deep in his gut that she would be seeking answers at her parent’s house. It would be easier if Harry wasn’t there too, so she wouldn’t have to sneak around him to do it. And if she finds out. . .well, Harry has accepted that it might happen and he could only hope that she isn’t too angry with him. In the grand scheme, it has changed very little of their dynamic. Harry is a completely different person than he was when he left this place – when he left her. 

His biggest regret, looking back at it, was leaving her alone. Even before this title, when they were just kids playing, he always kind of felt like her unofficial bodyguard. Or even just a companion for her – she didn’t have many other friends, and for whatever reason, both of their parents (or more so his parents and Thomas) thought it was a fine idea to just have them play with one another. Harry thinks it would have been a one-time thing when his father was first getting heavily involved with them, however from what he had heard at the time, Y/N had requested him. 

Or maybe requested was a strong word. He supposes the better way of phrasing it was when Harry's father told him that the little friend he made the week prior asked, “Where is Harry? Is he coming to play?” Which was a request enough for Thomas to invite him to a park that day. They saw each other pretty much weekly after that, depending on what was happening or the state of affairs the organization was in. Actually, Harry doesn’t even think Y/N remembers that much – he had a slightly bigger involvement in her life than he thinks she realizes. But when he speaks to Y/N about her childhood (or more, when she brings up a random anecdote), he finds that she doesn’t recall quite a few things about it. Like her brain had packed it away in storage boxes and stuffed it up in the attic – he’d once read that memory loss was an intrinsic, almost instinctual survival skill. Anything she deemed emotionally traumatic, she may have just conveniently booted from her head, and that. . .well, that might have been most of her years as a kid. 

If he knows anything about her, he knew that she would be upset with him initially but he could only hope she moved past it. Harry would have loved to go with her to her family event, even if she found out with him there, then they could at least discuss it immediately or on the car ride home instead of her stewing over it. But Thomas and Garrison had pulled him aside for different matters – the ones he had described as much more violent than a dinner with a ton of members in a gang, surprisingly. 

There might be a mole. That’s what Garrison had told him privately, that he didn’t trust Otto was in this alone; that nobody just knows where Y/N’s location is, barely anyone knows where she lives and this was an outlet mall 40-ish minutes away. It was just too convenient that Otto would know where she was without there being someone to tell him or some way of knowing. So everyone was under a microscope: Adam, Niall, Martha, Bill, and even some of the new people – Kai, Charlie, Betty, Rebecca. Harry understood why all of these people were on the list, but – 

“Why not me?” He inquired, brows dipped, “I appreciate that I’m not, but I don’t understand why exactly.” 

“You’ve been around since she was a kid,” he’d reminded Harry like he didn’t know, “There will always be a little more trust between us with you than the others. We know you wouldn’t let anything happen to her and you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize your family.” 

So while Y/N was with her family, he would be preoccupied snooping in places he probably doesn’t belong. It feels wrong to spy on the other bodyguards like this, and even the newbies; he feels guilt trickle through his chest when he is flicking through files of them. But he knew it had to be done. . .that Y/N’s safety was the top priority, even if it meant potentially betraying the trust of his colleagues. 

He’s worried about what he might find. He’s worried about how Y/N would react if it was anyone close to her. 

Worry soaks his brain, weighs it heavy, and drags his eyelids closed so he would stop watching the back of her sleeping head. He needed to sleep – maybe he should have kept her tucked against his side, cozy and warm because he’s sure he could have fallen right back to sleep then. He already knew he would spend at least ten more minutes contemplating what the next few weeks could bring them. The last time he’d had a little bit of trouble falling back asleep in her flat was after they kissed. 

That kiss. . .Harry’s cheeks feel hot thinking about it. He could still feel her against his mouth if he focused hard enough; the taste of her tongue, how soft her lips were, the way she felt in his lap. He could also remember how embarrassing he’d been coming into her room saying he was jealous, which is the only part of the night he wants to forget. They probably needed to talk about it – when he’s speaking, and Y/N’s staring at his mouth, he feels like he should bring it up, but the words always stick to the back of his throat like honey. 

It was inappropriate, Harry shouldn’t have agreed to do it but Y/N was so cute asking him and he’s human, after all. She wanted to kiss and Harry loved kisses and how could he deny her of such a simple pleasure in life? Especially when she said she didn’t get to do it often? It would have been criminal for him to refuse her! And Harry may participate heavily in unlawful, corrupt things, but he was no bloody monster – his job (in part) was to make Y/N happy, and if a kiss was what did that then so be it. 

(At least this is what he convinces himself.) 

Thinking about it either does two things for him: makes him hard, or gives him soft, twinkling feelings in his stomach. Thankfully, tonight it was the latter, so he revels in the sentiment and finds himself drowsy once again (he’d worked himself up enough that he felt wide awake which would not do – they still had a few hours to sleep and he wanted to make use of it). There is comfort in knowing that if Y/N starts to have her nightmares again, he’s right beside her – he wondered if he’d ever be able to be at her flat without wanting to be next to her.

What he said before she fell asleep, he meant – he wouldn’t let anyone or anything hurt her, and that includes a shitty dream. 

                                                              .                          .                          .

The gathering comes quicker than Y/N would have liked, but she figured it was better than the worry of it lingering like a gloomy cloud over her. Y/N had woken up that morning with a sort of weird relief tied into her anxiety; a premature peace was brought on by the fact the day was here and she was one step closer to getting it over with. No matter how unpleasant she would find it, most of these people were family, and if not family, then held a deep-seated, often fear-induced respect for her parents. It wasn’t like anyone would be blatantly mean to her or quiz her too hard on what she was doing, why she was doing it, where she was doing it, because. . .well, wouldn’t that make them look a touch suspicious? These sorts of questions would only be acceptable from her grandparents and that’s if they could talk about something other than how hard it is to use the bathroom the older they get. 

Y/N kept reminding herself of this in the hours leading up to the party and it made her feel much better. They were doing this because her grandparents were coming in from Dublin, where they had settled after passing the torch to her parents (neither was from Ireland, but both were drawn to the lush green hills and a seemingly endless supply of Guinness which is all they could wish for in their old age). Everyone would be much more intrigued by them than they would be by her – she felt silly for getting so worked up over going. Was it not a little self-absorbed to think everyone would want to know what she was doing?  Who gave a shit about what was going on with her besides a handful of other people? 

She had told this line of thinking to Niall who would be accompanying her to the party. “That’s awfully pessimistic but if that’s what makes you feel better then yeah, they’ll probably be focused on what your grandparents are chatting about. They’ve got some brutal fucking stories, but your Nan is so cute, you don’t expect her to be telling them.” 

It’s true; her Nan wears bright-colored cardigans and keeps her hair styled neatly in feather white curls. She knits, sews, and bakes cookies. When she was in town while Y/N was a child, she would take her (bodyguard-less, because “If something goes wrong, I’ll take care of it,”) to feed ducks in the park, or to pick out yarn for a blanket. Very normal, Nan-like things, so you really wouldn’t have guessed that she used to shoot people’s feet if they betrayed the family. 

The weather was much warmer today so Y/N wore a dress – her mum and Nan liked her in dresses, and though Y/N had a love-hate relationship with the garment, she’d like to make them both happy. A light blue, patchwork material that came just above her knees, with loose puffy short sleeves and a square neckline. Niall gave her a mocking gasp when she walked out in it, “I was half expecting to see you in sweats and a tank top, I never see you all dressed up.” 

“Because I’ve been on house arrest, dick,” she retorted, pulling her socks over her feet. 

With a snort, he pulled his phone out, “Harry’s g’na be so fucking jealous he didn’t see you in a dress.” 

“Huh?” Y/N slid her left foot into her shoe (the mary jane like shoe but was lacking the buckle that really made it a mary jane), “Why would he care?” 

“Because you look cute and he’s a sucker for you looking cute,” Niall says it like it’s obvious, confusion reworking his face into a confused frown, “He coos over like every cute thing you do.” 

“He’s just teasing.” 

A scoff leaves him, “Whatever you say – now smile for the camera.”  

Y/N smiled nice, big, and pretty, her head tilted dramatically and her middle finger stuck out toward him. It is the opposite of a deterrent for the blonde, who chortles as he takes rapid-fire pictures from varying angles, muttering something about, “See how you like it when this one goes to your Nan.” After the pictures are taken, she stands and smacks his arm lightheartedly. She wondered if Niall had actually sent it to Harry and her suspicions were confirmed just as soon as they got in the car to leave.

I can’t believe you’ve had such a cute dress and never told me or Goose, you know how much she loves dresses. She’s going to be so hurt.

The memory of Goose rolling around in a few of her dresses (and other various items of clothing but mostly her dresses) when Y/N was going through her closet (in a fit of pure boredom), plants itself into her brain. It makes her smile, even though she knew she’d be removing remnants of tortoiseshell fur off the fabric; she just wanted to scent her and all of her things. Harry told her Goose was in the midst of trying to adopt her but the paperwork is hard for a cat so it’d been taking some time. 

Rolling her eyes, she let her thumbs dart around the keyboard. 

Don’t use the cat as an excuse, pervert

The drive isn’t as awful and damning as she thought it might feel; it’s about 30 or so minutes out from where she stays depending on what traffic is like and Niall is on some soapbox about a drama he’s currently watching. She watches as the cityscape changes to suburbia, and from suburbia closer to the countryside. Not the house on stilts beside a river and a boat beside the car countryside, but the smarmy, affluent kind – where it wasn’t really countryside, but there were acres upon acres of land to own. The trees they pass are a blur of brown branches speckling with green as they shift to Spring, and bushes that never lost their green, to begin with.  

Anxiety still bubbles in her belly but more from the prospect of seeing people she hasn’t seen in a while, than it was from being worried they’d ask how she was doing. Because she realized she could A. Always lie, and B. Harry did give her a good idea the other week about opening some form of online shop. She’d started laying the groundwork for it down, so she could at the very least talk out of her ass about what she was doing. That was if anybody asked – she wouldn’t just bring it up on her own. 

Y/N finds that she just needs to tap into that part of herself she uses with her friends when she is able to go out with them. The part of her that completely erases any possibility that she has a life outside of what they were doing at that moment; narrowly avoiding questions that probe too deeply into her day-to-day, steering the conversations toward the person she was talking to and their life. Everyone likes to talk about themselves if you show you’re willing to listen, Y/N found that out relatively quickly. 

Her parents’ house, much like them, is gaudy and extravagant and too big. It’s a pretty place, but she just doesn’t necessarily see the need for columns lining the stairs leading up to the house, or the large brass lion knocker on the front door. The chandelier in the foyer when you first enter is about a thousand crystals that cast glittering shadows along the slate grey walls. From the foyer, directly in front of the door is a bifurcated staircase, and beneath either set of stairs splitting off from the main row, there was an entryway to the kitchen and a sitting area, both just on the side of too big. She could already see people moving around in the kitchen and could tell that most people were in the backyard where the majority of this would be taking place. 

This wasn’t the house she grew up in so there was no personal attachment to the walls, the floors, or the doorways. She doesn’t stop to linger around a spot on the wall she remembered being measured against when she was little, nor does she see little mirages of a small her running around the halls in a moment of nostalgia. Y/N walks through the foyer, her shoes clicking against the hardwood as she makes her way to the backyard. 

There were a lot of people to greet and she was feeling overwhelmed, but nobody noticed (nor seemed to care) about her arrival. It made it easy to slink around, seeking out her grandma who she knew would be sitting beneath one of the tarps they had set up shielding away the blinding son. She was in the middle of speaking to a group of people, so Y/N was going to stand and wait patiently off to the side, but her eyes flickered over, a smile broke out over her face, and she waved her closer, “Is that who I think it is?” Y/N lowered to hug her, “God, you’re looking like an adult! Where the hell is your grandfather, someone call the lazy sod over.” 

It was easy with her like it always was. Y/N spoke to her for a while, and hugged her granddad when he made his way over, (“Is your hair longer? Looks longer – you know, your mother had long hair when she first met your dad, like down to her bum, it was ridiculous! We used to beg her to get it cut, we thought it’d get trapped in a door.”). She spoke to them both briefly, and they told her they wanted to plan a trip where she came to Ireland for a visit, and she agreed immediately. Her Nan cooed and doted over her for a moment, pinching her cheek and murmuring something about her needing to sleep more, “I can tell you’re tired, you get that same look your dad gets. Why aren’t you sleeping? Is your mattress comfortable?” 

Y/N thinks, if her life was slightly different, these questions might annoy her but she revels in them. No matter how old you get, it’s nice to have someone worry over you a bit; to not see Y/N often but to know when she looks tired, to want to know why she isn’t sleeping, to wonder if it is her mattress. This is the kind of normal worry, about her sleeping habits, or how she’s eating, or if she’s happy – not about rivals and strangers to her that feel contempt for her parents but somehow translate that to hurting her. 

“We’ll talk later,” her Nan promised her, swatting her bum and giving her a small push, “Go mingle with your family, they’re missing you. And find your parents, tell them to stop working and come pamper me, I haven’t seen either of them for more than ten minutes.” 

She listens (her grandma is not someone you ignore orders from) and mingles. Y/N feels increasingly stupider for being so worried because really, nobody cares what she’s doing now, they mostly want to chat and reminisce over memories from years ago. She’s happy to listen, to laugh, to avoid any segues that might lead to delving into her life or opening a door where that might be a topic. Even if it was, she wondered if everyone just knew not to interrogate her – everyone is too worried about upsetting her parents to dig too deep into her shit. For all they know she could be doing under-the-cuff shit for them that nobody but she knew about (she isn’t but she could definitely could be – they aren’t above doing shifty things like that). 

Eventually, she did find her parents and it was. . .as it always was. They almost seemed like they were mid-meeting, which she hadn’t known, but all talked among themselves and the several people sitting beneath the stone gazebo (besides the pond they had built, with fish swimming around in it and a small waterfall because of course they had that) once she appeared, “Hi,” she greets unceremoniously, “Nan says stop working and go dote over her.” 

“Of course she did,” her mom smiled brightly, “Come here and hug me – where’d you get this dress? I love it, I’d be wearing that if I was just a few years younger.” 

“Try a decade,” her father teased, reaching over to squeeze her arm, “How’s my girl, huh? You all,” he turned to the others, “Go ahead and socialize, we’ll spend some time with our daughter.” 

They talk for a while, they’re the only ones inquiring about her life, and what she’s doing, and as she speaks it only then settles in her brain that they’ve got no clue. Y/N always imagines Thomas being puppeteer’d by her parents, doing as they say, but she forgets that for the most part, they do give him a fair amount of autonomy. Only relatively big notions (like her going to university) are discussed as a group. They do know that she’s being confined to her flat and they at least have the decency to  appear like they feel bad. 

“Once things settle,” her mum had patted her knee, “Things will be better, and you’ll be able to go out more. There’s. . .something going on right now, it’s better to air on the side of caution. Especially after what happened.” 

“Yeah, I get it,” she doesn’t. . .she tries her best to though, from their perspective, “Figure it out quick though, I want to go loiter at a mall or something soon.” 

She did end up telling them about her plan with art – after she told them about the art classes, which they seemed only vaguely aware of. Y/N went into it, about the cutesy drawings, about an online store, and they nod and say things like, “That sounds nice, Honey,” which is precisely what she expected. Something gentle, slightly dismissive, like they’re listening to a 12-year-old get overly enthused about her hobby. It was nice to talk about it with someone other than Harry though, even if she was certain they were only half listening. 

Her mother is the one to bring Harry up, sipping from her glass of wine, “Hm? He’s your newest guard is he not? How’s it going?” 

“It’s good,” she shrugged her shoulders, “He’s nice,” I kissed him the other week, “And he’s got two really cute cats that he brings over,” he slept in my bed the other night because I’m having horrible nightmares – do I look tired to you? Nan says I look tired, that’s probably why, “Yeah, it’s fine. Has he said anything?” 

Her father cleared his throat, “From what Thomas has said, he does well at all aspects of his job,” he gave a tight-lipped smile, and there’s. . .a look there, in his face, that caught Y/N’s attention, “Which is always good to hear, when we’re trusting someone with you.” 

“He does kind of remind me of someone,” her lips move before she can really think it through, bringing it up, but her dad’s disposition had changed ever so slightly – something that Y/N wouldn’t have noticed had she not been trying to read them the entire conversation, “I used to spend time with someone when I was little, who was named Harry. He just disappeared one day though.” 

As soon as her mother opened her mouth to respond, her father cut her off, with a smooth, almost immediate precision, “Hm, I think I remember him,” he reached for his drink from the table, “But he and his family moved quite a while ago, I believe. There was a company in Australia I believe, that wanted to hire him. That is if I’m remembering correctly.” 

Y/N thinks if her father had answered any other way, or even just slightly differently, she wouldn’t have questioned it. Maybe she would have finally given up, and let it go because even if she did know Harry from when she was younger he clearly didn’t want her to remember him for a reason. If she had anything else to do with her time, she probably wouldn’t have even cared that much to bring it up past asking Harry if she knew him from somewhere. 

But it was weird how he’d answered her. It was too fast – and how do you think you remember somebody, but go on to explain they moved to Australia? Plus, from what Y/N has gathered through bits and pieces she hears from her guards and from what she remembered when she was little, people don’t just stop working for her parents. They don’t just go on their merry way unless they are exiled, and even then, the offense would have to be pretty minor to come out unscathed. 

Once you’re in this world, you’re in it. There’s no dipping a toe in and deciding it’s too cold; the only option is to sink into it, down to the shoulders, and embrace it when the water lapping at your neck is finally warmer than the air blowing around above it. 

“Ohh, okay,” she plays nice and dumb, smiling gently, “Well that settles that then. I was just wondering.” 

The tension that had risen in his shoulders loosened, and he relaxed back in his chair, “Tell us more about this business you’d like to start – I know someone who specializes in marketing for start-ups and. . .” 

It’s brushed under the rug because of course it is, and Y/N keeps chatting with them a healthy amount before excusing herself to the restroom. This is when her parents make their move to visit with her Nan (“What a joy it is to dote on your mother-in-law,” her mother sighed, grabbing her wine), so they split ways. Y/N does have to piss, that much is true, but she’ll also be taking a detour to the library, where the photo albums were kept. Nobody questions where she’s going or why she’s going there, but she does manage to narrowly avoid Thomas who would have definitely not trusted her when she told him she wasn’t doing anything to rouse suspicion. 

The library, in comparison to the rest of the house, is actually one of the smaller rooms. She wondered if it was actually small or if the towering bookcases made it appear more compact than it was. On either side of the room, the walls were bookshelf-beside-bookshelf, filled to the brim with different novels, titles, hardbacks, and paperbacks (she doesn’t even think her parents are that into reading). Adjacent to the door, the wall is a window that reminded her of Edward’s room in Twilight, only this one was composed of bulletproof, thick glass and had large curtains that could be drawn if it was night. In the center of the room was a small couch, a coffee table, and a lamp (which has a very limited purpose when there’s a huge light fixture hanging from the ceiling that lights up the entire room as soon as it’s flicked on). 

It takes her a moment to skim over different bindings until she finds the odd, large bindings of the photobooks. They aren’t labeled but she remembered that her mother, in all her perfectionist glory, had them color coded by years. Y/N knew that vibrant purples, blues, and greens were from a period starting with her birth so that’s where she starts. She pulled out all of them, bundled them in her arms, and went to the couch. Vaguely does Y/N remember a time when she was always posing for pictures whether she wanted to or not, and while it wasn’t necessarily either of her parents taking the picture – someone was. Thomas, any bodyguard, her Nan, uncles, aunts, and cousins if they were all together. So there are plenty of pictures to sift through, almost an annoying amount. She thinks she’ll be in here for hours. 

Three photo albums in, she begins to lose hope. What was she even looking for? Some proof that Harry existed when she was little? Who was to say anyone had even taken a picture of them together in the first place? And for her parents to keep it, when one of them at the very least, was not interested in her knowing that he had existed in her life before a few months ago when he’d entered her flat, following close behind Niall? It was unlikely. 

She nibbles at her thumbnail, heaving a sigh and almost irately flipping through pages now when she sees it. 

When she sees him. 

If Y/N had looked through it any quicker she would have missed it. A picture at the park, two children stood beside the obnoxiously bright blue tunnel slides: one of them was her, in a frilly pink sundress that had large yellow flowers printed all over the front, and jelly shoes she has a vague memory of regretting because the mulch from the ground kept scratching her. She had a big, front toothless grin, her head over-exaggerated in its tilt and one of her hands were held up like she was waving. Her arm was wrapped around a boy, just a little taller than her, who had awful cargo shorts you could only get away with wearing at 9 and a green shirt with a FIFA logo. His hair was brown, cut short, his eyes were light, she could tell, and he had two dimples just as she remembered. Looking at this photo, she knew for sure. 

It was him. 

That fucking liar. 

She carefully slides the delicate paper from the plastic sheet and presses it off to the side, before continuing to flip through. One picture would be enough, she knew, but she wanted to build an arsenal of proof. He could try to explain away one picture, but not several. Not when she could tell the structure of his face, the way one side of his mouth has always pulled up higher when he smiled, the crinkles beside his eye when he grins. 

Y/N is conflicted, about whether to be happy or upset or whatever she was feeling. She was happy that she had been right this whole time. She was irritated because he’d been lying to her and her dad just lied straight to her face, but she wondered for what reason it was important that she didn’t know. And she was confused, because. . .well, where the fuck had he gone? From at least four of the photo albums, she finds around five photos from each of them, up until she was around 10. 

She’d worried a sore into the inside of her bottom lip biting at it with fretted teeth, and her forehead ached from the deep furrow she’d had the entire time she flicked through the albums. Y/N was ready to go home, but she knew she’d have to stay for a while longer. 

Just as she was sliding the pictures into her purse, zipping it closed, the door of the library opened. She tenses until she realizes it’s Niall, who squints his eyes, “What are you doing in here?” 

“Hiding and going down memory lane.” She dismisses him quickly, collecting the albums and walking them back to where she’d found them, “Have they started serving food yet? I’m fucking starving.” 

“Watch your mouth, your Nan could be around any corner. She’s quiet on her feet,” he playfully scolded her, not probing any further into her reasonings for being in here, “That’s why I came to get you, the caterers finally have everything set up and I knew you’d fuss if I ate without you.” 

She scoffed, “Thanks, and for the record, I don’t fuss, I hit.” 

He pouted his mouth, rubbing his arm where she’d swatted him earlier, “Don’t I know it.” 

                                                                    .                     .                   .

Y/N loses her nerve. 

For a while, she was riled up and ready for an argument (though she doubts Harry would actually argue with her); Harry was supposed to come to see her that night, so she had very little time to mentally prepare. But from that little time she did get, she’d prepared to let him walk in, sit down, then slam the pictures down on the table in front of him and demand answers. Like why he lied before, why her father lied today, and why he left in the first place. Does it matter? No, not necessarily, and she doesn’t think it would change how anything is right now, but at the end of the day, Y/N is nosy and confused and wants to know why everyone else is in on this and not her. Just like everything else in her life, she is kept in the dark, and she’d just been praising Harry for being the only one who ever kept her in the know, telling her more than anyone else. 

And she thinks if it had been anyone else, she probably would have. If she had looked through those albums and seen a photo of Niall with her, she would have immediately thrown it at him and asked him what the fuck it was about. 

Yet as soon as she saw Harry, who smiled brightly at her as he walked in, holding two strawberry shakes with a big grin on his face. . .she just couldn’t. 

“I brought you a treat,” he told her, kicking the door shut with his foot, “It’s a celebration shake. Do you feel relieved having done it and gotten it over with?” 

It almost felt silly, to think about doing it how she had planned. To show him the photos, like an I told you so! I’m right, you’re wrong, I did know you – it felt like a petulant way to approach the subject. And if there was a good reason that they didn’t want her to know. . .if there was any reason at all, really, why should she have to force his hand in telling her? To shove proof in his face, catch him off guard, guilt him into telling her. . .it just didn’t feel right. She wanted to know, and part of her felt she deserved to know, but maybe not like this. 

She cleared her throat, and smiled gently, “Yeah,” she told him, “It wasn’t too bad.” 

“See! I told you it’d be just fine,” he handed her the shake, “I’ll admit, I am jealous Niall got to go with you in that dress. It was adorable – you look so pretty when you’re all dressed up. Well, you’re pretty always, actually, but I do love dresses.” 

Y/N feels her face warm, mouth pulled into a frown, “Don’t tease me,” she grumbled, pulling the straw of the shake between her lips, but she moves her legs out of the way for him to sit with her on the couch. 

“I’m not teasing,” he defended himself, “Really, I think you’re pretty in whatever you feel comfortable in.” 

Y/N nudged him with her foot, and let the words, I knew you when I was little, I have pictures – fizzle out in her throat. She wants to know – so badly does she want to know, but she just can’t give a reason why she would need to know. And she guesses part of her is a little scared that it might change things between them. There were a lot of things Y/N wanted but that wasn’t one of them; she’d like to keep getting closer to him, to keep looking at him and feeling safe, for that bubble of warmth and comfort to arise in her belly every time he stepped through the door. 

She liked how things were now, so maybe she was okay not knowing. Not yet, at least. . .for a little while. 

“Where’s your head at, hm?” Harry hums low, sweet, and soft; he’s in the usual attire, though the white button-up was loosened by a few buttons and the cuff links were undone. His suit pants were navy blue today, and he treated them with little care, his foot pulled up onto the couch, rolling the leg of the trousers up. He is turned to face her, the hand on his phone lowering so she had his full attention, “You seem far away.” 

“Nowhere,” she lies easily, “I’m just sleepy.” 

Harry gives her a smile – it’s gentle but still big, and she’s suddenly acutely aware of how her heart races when she witnesses it, dimples and all, “Liarrr,” he sing-songs, but uses his free hand to squeeze her calf over the pajama pants she’s wearing, “You can tell me when you’re ready if you want to talk about it,” his voice sinks into her muscles, melts them, “I’ll wait for you. Until then, I reckon we should watch that show. . .the new one with the zombies everyone is talking about?” He would have a good reason, right? Harry wouldn’t just lie to her. . .Harry doesn’t just lie. 

Y/N nodded, her lips twitching up, “So you finally admit you want to see it,” she puffed a laugh from her chest, “After so vehemently denying that you’re interested in zombie shows at all!” 

“To be fair, a lot of them can be shit!” He whined, “But I’ve seen a lot of good reviews, and I heard it’s about some mind-controlling fungus which is a slight deviation from other versions of the story. And legally, you can’t be mean to me because I’m so sweet and brought you a shake.”  

She grabbed the remote, “You’re whiny.” 

“I reckon I deserve to be the whiny one sometimes, you get to be 24/7.” He retorted and Y/N gasped, mouth falling open. 

“I am not whiny!” 

“Oh? Was that a whine I just heard?” When she huffs at him and starts turning her body away from him, he chuckles low, stopping her from twisting her body completely by laying a hand on her bicep, “C’mon, c’mon, I’m kidding.” He scoots to the other end of the couch, “Here, do you want to stretch out? I’m sure your feet must hurt after being in those shoes all day.” 

Her response is to kick her feet up without hesitation, but she wiggles down so that they lay in his lap, “Will you rub them?” Because if he’s going to lie to her about knowing her and then suddenly return to her life as her bodyguard, she thinks she deserves a foot rub out of it at the very, absolute least. 

“Ah,” he places one of her throw pillows in his lap, before delicately laying her foot on top of it, “You just want me here to dote on you.” 

She nodded her head, “Correct.” 

“Brat,” he digs his thumb into the sole of her foot anyway, just above her heel, “Get the show started or I’ll start tickling.” 

Because it’s easy with Harry – it’s always been easy with Harry and that’s what she liked. 

Why make it difficult? 

Why bring it up? 

                                                                 .                             .                           .

The days go on as normal; eventually, they lessen their stringent rules on where she can and cannot go. It’s only a little bit, but she and Harry can finally return to their art classes, where Y/N found the excuse for their absence was they had taken a trip to Spain (she lies about how amazing the rooftop tour of Santiago de Compostela Cathedral is beautiful knowing full well she didn’t even know you could get tours on the rooftop).  They returned just in time for a color theory lesson that goes from a fun grade school color wheel to something that melted her brain. By the end of it, it had turned into something so complex, even Harry seemed genuinely astonished by how deep into it they went. 

“We’ll have to practice later,” he promised, “‘cos I’m going to forget everything she said after the first hour.” 

Y/N goes to a brunch with her Nan, who – albeit reluctantly – lets Harry attend. Thomas was still hyper-aware of any possible danger (as he always is) and thought it would be dangerous for not only Y/N but her Nan (who has made plenty of enemies in her day) to be alone out and about together. Harry offered to sit at a separate table once he noticed her Nan’s displeasure but she waved the idea away, “Why should you be punished because I disagree with how they’re doing things? You’ll sit with us.” 

If Y/N looked back on it, she thinks that Grandma always had a problem with how they raised Y/N. Very, very, very vaguely she has an indistinct and fuzzy memory of her scolding Y/N’s father, “This is no life to live,” she told him, “To force her in this house! To not even let her attend school? She needs friends outside of her cousins and a life. I didn’t raise you to be so stupid.” And Y/N thinks, relatively close to that, she’d been enrolled in a private school (though she moved around quite a bit following that). 

It was nice to spend time with her, and she thinks – even without trying – Harry had managed to woo her Nan in about five minutes. If she let herself indulge, even just for a second, it was like having her boyfriend meet her family but she wipes the thought away as soon as it arises. 

Because she’s been having a lot of thoughts like that; she’d begun labeling them her “senseless, delusional” moments where she even for a second considered having feelings for Harry. They started out infrequently, only every so often (especially when he did something particularly sweet) but with time they grew more recurrent. It seemed, like some sort of sick twist, that they came on stronger once she realized that she knew him from when they were little. 

Which, Y/N thinks if she were more emotionally sound, the opposite would have occurred. She should be put off and repelled, but instead, she finds herself feeling more and more fond. 

Now she notices things that she hadn’t before. All the little idiosyncrasies of hers that he remembered from childhood: how she liked jelly candies and her favorite flavors, the board games she used to play, the stuffies she always liked, the way she hated the sound of nails on a holographic picture, how she thinks the sandwich just tastes better when it’s cut diagonally. They were things that, for whatever reason, she never questioned why he knew before but now that she thought about it, it would be incredibly odd had he known them without knowing her. 

And over time she just realizes that he brings the kind of comfort that only a childhood friend could bring. Familiarity, a tender warmth, the idea that someone still likes you even as you’ve grown and changed into the person you are today. Fundamentally, their relationship was always somewhat forced she guesses – their parents (or his parents and Thomas) probably arranged the first play date. And Thomas definitely arranged for him to be her bodyguard. They were compelled to be in the same space together, but enjoying their time with each other. . .that was them. Harry laughing at her jokes, the feeling that fizzles in her veins when his cheeks get pink, how excited she is to see him when it’s his night with her, the borderline domestic relationship she’s developed with his cats – all of that wasn’t arranged. 

They were friends, Y/N truly believed that. They had been forever now, she guesses, if the decade-long gap in between was dissolved. 

Y/N thumbs through the photos when she’s in her room at night, gnawing at her bottom lip, a zoetrope of memories flickering through her brain. Some things she recalls, some things she doesn’t, and she recalls feelings more than she does conversations or scenarios. She was always happy, she knew that, and she always felt like a normal kid with him. She could tell him things and they could play and things were good and normal.

She found herself wanting to kiss him more every day, which is a bit of a problem. They still hadn’t spoken about the first, logically they should do that before having a second, but the want for it itches beneath her skin. Y/N’s certain he had caught her staring at his mouth several times, probably more than she would like to admit, but he had never really brought it up before. 

Until a random Thursday, at least, when she’d spent most of the day drawing and perfecting different sketches for the first round of stickers (she does a lot of random original cutesy drawings, then some that involve different tv shows and movies – people like to buy cute versions of characters they like, Y/N knows that because she does it all the time). Harry started talking about. . .something, Y/N couldn’t remember, but what she did remember was how his mouth went from forming around the word “apples” to smirking. 

“You stare at my mouth an awful lot,” he taunted her, and Y/N. . .she was feeling more sensitive that day; less fiery than she usually was, so she tilted her head down and murmured an apology, “No, wait,” he clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth, “I was only kidding, Sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize for anything.” 

When she hummed and made no move to look back at him, she felt careful fingers on her chin, guiding her face toward him, “C’mon, Darling, don’t hide. It’s okay! You can look at my mouth all you want, lord knows I’m always looking at yours.” 

Her face feels hot and she swallows thickly, “You’re looking at mine?” 

“Mhm,” he hesitated for a moment, before the pad of his thumb grazed over her bottom lip, “More than I’d like to admit.” 

“We could always,” she spoke against his petting thumb, “We could kiss again then if you want.” 

He leaned in, moments from smearing his mouth against hers, but there was a knock at the door. 

The pizza they ordered had come. 

That was the closest they’d been to kissing again, but once Harry went to answer the door and sign for the food the moment had left them. Y/N is flustered, warm in her face, and has zero nerve to return where they had left off so she nudges him with her foot when he sits back beside her and calls him a wimp when he fusses over it. Things go back to normal – the same as they usually were.

(It was only later that night when she was alone in her bed when she felt inconceivably horny, did she remember that her period was coming. The weeks leading up to it always left her insatiable, sensitive in both her feelings and touch, and if she snuck her hand between her thighs to the thought of kissing him again, well that’s her own problem.) 

The nightmares start to fade too, which is nice, though that means Harry spends less time in her room. He’d made a habit of sleeping beside her, or at least laying down near her until she fell asleep, and she’d always wake up the next morning alone. Though without fail, as soon as a dream seemed to sour, Harry was there at her side to wake her from it, always attentive, squeezing the shoulder he’d just been shaking, “S’just a dream, baby, you’re okay.” He’d calm her down, “Go back to bed.” 

“Thank you, nightmare killer,” she would murmur, tongue feeling heavy in her mouth, and Harry would laugh, and she’d fall back asleep. 

Things were nice, starting to feel a little normal again with the additive closeness she felt with Harry despite knowing what she did. She was starting to feel comfortable again, and not stuck inside all of the time, and she felt like she was getting somewhere with her drawings, growing closer and closer to being able to open her shop. 

And then, one night, Harry is waking her up frantically. 

Harry is not a frantic person – he is usually calm, collected, and measured. Y/N has never truly seen him in action but she’s sure he makes decisions with precision and tact that typically comes from years of experience, though she doesn’t think he’s been at this that long. He’s levelheaded and respectful and acts well under pressure – that makes him deadly. 

So to see him urging her awake, moving quickly, telling her to, “Get up, we need to leave.” Makes her adrenalin spike and panic drip from her ears. 

“What?” She was still foggy, disoriented – what time was it? Her clock says it’s three in the morning. 

“We need to go,” he is reaching beneath her bed, dragging out a bag – her “Go” bag, is what she always called it, something Thomas had instructed her to make even when she was little. It was a duffel of clothes, toiletries, and things that would take too long to grab in the event she needed to leave an area quickly. She’d only ever had to grab it once before when she was younger, but she couldn’t remember why. Though now that she thinks about it, it seemed like it might have been close to the time that Harry had disappeared.

She doesn’t check her go bag often, beyond replacing the toiletries that may have lived past their shelf date, so she was also surprised to see Harry pull a gun from it. A gasp leaves her mouth, she’s still moving too slowly, trying to catch up with what’s happening as he’s fitting it into the holster, “Wait, what? What’s wrong? What’s happening?” 

He’s zipping the bag up, “Bill was fired –” 

“What?” 

“- and it got ugly, he shot at Martha. There’s reason to believe he’s on his way here.” 

“But why –” 

“There’s no time to explain everything,” he threw the duffle over his shoulder, “We need to leave.” 

Her head is spinning, she knows she’s probably annoying him, but she can’t help but search for something to say, for a question to ask, to try and understand what was happening, if she was dreaming or not, if this was another nightmare, “What –” 

This time Harry cuts her off by taking her face in his hands – he was still gentle, but she could sense the urgency, “I will explain as soon as we’re safe, I promise you, baby, but right now we need to leave okay? Get your phone but turn off the location. We’ll go down the back stairwell to the parking garage.” She still seems hesitant, confused, but Harry runs a thumb over her cheek, “Do you trust me?” 

And she does. . .she trusts him implicity, more than she should, probably.   

“Yes.” 

“Good,” he replied quickly, “Come on.” 

[romanestuffsposts]

Hi, i love your one shots, could you please do one where little reader is 6 years old and gets kidnapped by the red room,daddies stuckyare destroyed emotionally,but when she is 13 and already has a very dangerous skill set they found her and try to rescue her but like she refuses with a knife/Gun, but they eventually do ,happy ending and fluffy ending, pls your stuff brings me comfort.

Hi there love! 💜

Thank you so much! I'm sorry you had to wait, i hope you like how i write your resuest!

Enjoy <3

****

Warnings : mentions of kidnappings, knifes and guns, red rooms, rescuing, fights, fear, pet names, comfort, kisses, fluff

Pairings : Daddies!Stucky ; Daddy!Bucky x Papa!Steve x Little!Reader

Summary : all they ever wanted was to have you back, now they have the chance to get you and they won’t let that slide

****

It was a peaceful summer night, the bird were singing and the sun was disappearing behind the trees, letting out a beautiful colour shining through them.

The night was beautiful, the day went perfectly fine and everything was telling them that the rest of the week would be as perfect as that day.

But once your Daddies came back home from a nice dinner with workers, they weren't prepared for that. The house was a complete mess, the lamp was broken on the ground, the tv still on, the only noises was their own steps and their breathing. The babysitter was laying on the ground of the living room, signs of attacks clearly visible.

Your Daddies immediately went to the tower after checking the house a million times and with the help of Tony, they got a hand on the footage. What they saw broke their hearts. The footages clearly show men breaking in the house and grabbed you.

Natasha said she reconized the uniform, the bracelets and the guns. It was the red room.

They spent lots and lots of time working on your rescue. All days and all nights your Daddies were working their ass off to get you back. They couldn't sleep, they couldn't eat, they couldn't do anything other than working and working.

When they came home, it was quiet, your giggles and footsteps not there anymore. It miss them so much, they miss being greet by you after work, they miss taking you up to a bath or staying in the living room to watch a movie. They miss dancing and laughing in the kitchen while cooking all together, they miss the playful moments you all had.

They miss you. SO much it hurts. That's why they never let you down, they will get you back, it doesn't matter how and it doesn't matter the price to get you back. They will.

~

"be careful, you don't know them but I do. They're unscrupulous" Natasha warns as they wait beside a door, their back against the walls.

"Not as much as us" Steve says in a venom voice.

They decide to just go inside the three of them for now. The rest of them are outside, breaking into their footages and just waiting until somebody needs them inside.

The plan isn't to destroy the red room, they will, of course but not today. They needed a bigger plan which means longer time to get everything ready and they clearly don't have that time. And the last thing they want is to put you in more danger than you already are

"Rogers ?" the headset says "don't go in just yet, there's people circuling in that hallway. I'll tell you when it's clear"

Tony tells them to not answer when he or Bruce talks in the headset because it could be dangerous to speak in there. Nobody knows where the enemy can be.

Steve sighs a long breath of stress through his mouth and rests the back of his head against the wall behind him. Bucky peers at Steve and rests a comforting hand on top of Steve's.

He mouths a little 'It's okay' before kissing his hand. They never, never were that anxious about a mission before, but again, the old missions didn't had anything to do with you.

They felt like they failed you by letting you down. They were sared you would think they won't do anything to get you back to them and just curled more on yourself and just drop your strength.

"it's clear" Tony said through the headset.

Both men open the door and walk through it first, following by Natasha who protect their back. "we had comfirmation that there's a training group in the tird door on your right, right now. We can't have their face though" Bruce informs "so be careful"

Bucky grabs the handle and is waiting for his friends to join him. When Steve and Natasha comes to him, Natasha steps before Steve and nods at Bucky.

This one open the door and Natasha enters, following by Steve and Bucky who are closely behind. Once they're in the room, their eyes gaze everbody in the room in hope to find you but you're not there.

Natasha is on her way back to the door with Steve while Bucky is glued to his spot, looking at all the girls training and acting like robots. Steve looks behind him and takes a double look when he sees Bucky is still far away from the door.

"Bucky" he whispers really quietly "Bucky let's go before they notice us" Steve was scared to bring Bucky with him, because, even though it wasn't exactly the same, he knew Bucky would think about hydra and his years there.

And he can't blame him, everything in here remind him of that place.

"We can't risk to be seen Bucky, think about her. She's waiting for us" Steve says. Bukcy turns his head toward Steve, an expression he can't tell on his face "our girl is waiting for us, Bucky. Let's go get her and bring her home"

He sucks in a breath and nods his shaking head. Steve grabs Bucky's hand and leads him outside of the room. They close the door and go to keep making their way down the hallway when they hear a voice

"I advise you to stop walking and to drop your weapons"

They freeze in their spot. It couldn't.. right ?

Natasha elbows Steve who were beside him, she was the only one who turned around after hearing the voice. Steve takes a breath and turns around, making Bucky turning around too.

"Baby ?" Bucky's weak voice isn't doing anything to you.

You glare at the three of them, a glare empty of emotion "drop your weapons" you order again and they do "baby ?" Bucky calls again

"stop calling me that." you snap "turn around and walk now" you nod at them.

Instead of turning around, Steve takes a step forward "you don't want us to do that" he softly says, shaking his head.

You narrow your eyes at them "walk or I call back up" you warn. He takes a steps closer again "you don't want to do that either. Because you would have done it already either way"

You tight your teeth and swallow. Why does this man has that much power over you ? Why are you listening to him ? You should have shot them already like with the others but.. you can't seems to be able to, why ?

"I got this" Bucky's soft voice sound from behind Steve. You shift your gaze to Bucky who's behind Steve but keeps your gun up, pointing at them and that girl.

He grabs something from his bag and your face fell at the thing he has in his hands "it's.." he clears his throat "it's Bucksie" he softly says, steps toward you too "you remember him ?"

You look at the stuffie and look back at Bucky, a little lost about why you're feeling like this right now

"it's yours, little one"

This name..

"do you remember how you met him ?" Bucky asks taking another step "I was mean to you that night, I gave you a hard punishment you didn't deserved and we gave you Bucksie because I was so scared you wouldn't be near me anymore. I wanted you to have something that remind you of me if I wasn't there because of my acts" he looks down at Bucksie, regrets all over his face "i didn't want you to forget me"

You lower your gun through his talks so now it's on your side as you look down at this Bucksie, he calls. "you used to fall asleep with him all the time, you couldn't lie on the couch without him or closing your eyes if he wasn't in your arms, even though you were in ours" he smiles a little at the memories.

You frown and take it from his hands, making him look up at you with hope in his eyes. You thumb caresses the spot where there's the stars resting on the top of the grey arm, you gaze it absently.

Everything is so weird.

You look back at them with tears in your eyes and Steve immediately reaches Bucky's spot. Natasha stays behind to give you the space you need.

"sweetness ?" he gently calls. You shake your head as tears start to fall down your cheeks "do you remember us ?"

Why is everything feel so loud all of a suddent ? Why is everything feel so overwhelmed when you were feeling empty of emotions seconds ago ? What the hell is happening ?

You sniff and nod your head. Your Daddies goes to hug you but you take a step back, stopping them in their speed. They look at you with confuse eyes as you sniff again "what's wrong ?"

"I can't- What if they're watching ? I- I don't want you to get hurt because of me" you cry "if i leave with you, they'll come back. And I don't want them to come back" You break down

Your Daddies's eyes soften and they come back toward you to hug you, and this time you don't pull back. You let them embrace you with all the love you missed.

"we'll get you out and never, never will let them come back for you, babydoll. We promise you" Your Daddy softly whispers in your ears. Just before hearing people running toward them.

Let's the game begin..

~

The come back was really full of emotions! Just as you step in the jet, everyone came to you and even though you were happy to see them and to have their attention on you it was still very overwhelming.

So when you came home, your Daddies carried you upstairs because they knew you would be really tired. You were happy to see that they didn't touch any of your stuffs, everything is just like before, nothing has change and it make you feel so safe. You didn't realized you needed that.

They spent the whole evening taking care of you, they asked you if you wanted a bath and when you said yes they were careful about being in there with you.

They, of course, asked you if you wanted them to be there and once again you said yes so they came but they were careful to not make you feel uncomfortable.

After that, your Daddy puts your body cream on you, just like before and you couldn't lie, you really missed having this massage every nights before bed. It's so relaxing.

Your Papa helped you putting your pyjama on and then promised you to watch cartoons while you fall asleep. Another thing you miss so much.

They already have an appointement tomorrow with the doctor to check you. When they noticed you were unharmed, from what they could see, they decide to go to the doctor tomorrow and spend the night with you, getting you more comfortable about going back home and making you feel safe again.

"are you tired, little one ?" your Daddy asks as he trails his fingers in your hair. You shake your head but yawn at the same time making him chuckle "it's okay to fall asleep, sweetie" your Papa says with a loving smile.

You shake your head again "don't wanna sleep. I'm scared to wake up and see you're not there and everything is fake. I don't want to go back there when I woke up" you mumble, snuggling closer to them.

They gladly comfort you, they knew you would need extra attention because of everything that had happened and they are more than ready to give it to you.

"Look at me, beautiful" your Daddy gently says, his fingers tilting up your chin "we're not going anywhere, baby. Our place is with your and yours is with us. We'll be there when you'll wake up and it'll be the same for all the other mornings" he reassures you

"just close your eyes, baby" he kisses your nose "and let us take care of you"

[oneshotnewbie]

Can we get a part 2 to the station 19 cancer post please? It was really good and made me cry haha

⚠️Trigger warning!⚠️ This one-shot includes the topic of cancer, throwing up and some swear words. These plots are presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

---

Light.

Your eyes burned from the bright light that the sun drew across the room in powerful rays. You tried to run sideways in the armchair you were sitting in, but this was thwarted by the many tubes attached to your arms and chest.

A breathing tube under your nose sprayed tickling air into it. Chemical substances spread through your veins in your body and poisoned you. Numerous devices around you, which controlled your vital signs, beeped in an unstoppable rhythm and kept you trapped in a position that you could not stand for much longer.

Your back hurt, your already weak body exhausted from the strenuous treatments.

Your sparkling eyes had lost all luster and stared emotionless at the fast line displayed on the screen next to you. Where once your thin, soft hair was, there was only bare skin over which a cold breeze blew and made you shiver.

Birds were loudly singing outside. Children laughed and romped happily on the opposite playground of the kinder garden but your happiness had long since died out. Every week, you sat in the same chair at the farthest corner of the white room, vegetating away.

You kept seeing the same faces talking. You had not spoken a single word to anyone before, did not even know the names of the nurses. But you did not care, you were not here to make friends or make new acquaintances.

Battling. Surviving. That was high on your priority list.

You were simply trying to endure it in silence, hoping that with each new session the side effects would disappear.

Four weeks ago, the horror had started and you remembered exactly how the first day of autumn had hit you. The side effects dragged on after the first few minutes of the first dose, nosebleeds and vertigo followed immediately afterwards.

Since then, unconsciousness and the pallor of your strength has haunted you with every new breath you took.

"Oye, mi preciosa," (Hey, my precious). You narrowed your eyes sullenly as the soft and husky voice pulled you out of your thoughts. Wearily, you looked at the source of the noise after receiving a loving kiss on your temple. It was Andy, who knelt in front of you short after, a small smile creeping onto her lips. "What are you doing here? I thought nobody was allowed to-"

"Fire department status," her gaze wandered to your port access, which ran along the left under your collarbone and took a deep breath. She had seen this on you several times before, but the paler your skin got from battling that pesky disease, the stronger it seemed to pop out into her eyes. "Besides, I have my secret sources"

Andy quickly averted her fixed and anxious eyes from it and got back on her feet. "Bailey?" you asked, getting a simple nod as an answer before your best friend conjured up a small stuffed teddy bear from behind her back, making you smile before you tried to reach for it.

As soon as you had the little white polar bear in your hand, you examined it. He was no bigger than the size of your head and wore a fire suit with a matching helmet. On it, a self-applied number showing the date you were born and your last name in white letters.

"This is Mr. Cuddlesworth," the Spaniard began to speak while she walked away from you. You looked after her questioningly, seeing her asking a nurse at the small counter for a folding chair. A smirk creased on your pale lips, realizing that she was not just here for a short visit but apparently intended to stay here for a longer period of time. Andy came back gratefully and continued with her statement. "He will be your cute little helper when I can not accompany you"

"Thank you, Andy. That means a lot to me"

She took your hand in hers and held it tight, rubbing small tickling circles on the back of your hand with her thumb. "I do not know how much longer I can take this," you confess to her in a moment of total silence. Tears welled up in your eyes, the tiredness that enveloped your soul like a membrane struggling to the fore.

You felt your life slowly fading away. Every breath became heavier, rattling noises leaving your throat. You did not even have the strength to clear your throat. Every time you tried to get air into your lungs, they only filled a quarter full. Your innermost self resisted the negative thoughts, but your body went on strike, leaving you with closed eyes and tears rolling down your cheeks. "I do not want to die"

"You will survive, mi amor," she hugged you comfortingly to damp your distress and fear. Gently, she spoke positive affirmations alternating between her mother tongue and American language, but you could feel slow tears falling down on your cold head while her chest trembled next to you. "You are the strongest woman I have ever met in my life"

You too clung to the last straw of hope that was bestowed on you from all sides, but with each passing day the insecurity gnawed at you. Even if you healed completely and your cancer did not recur after a period of time, you would never lead the same life.

It had already died with the diagnosis.

"So Mrs. L/n, your first cycle is over and you are done for today. You can go home," the nurse interrupted in your intimate embrace, patiently waiting for you to be unplugged from any systems. Andy excused herself and quickly stepped aside before pulling out her phone and frantically typing on her phone.

After they flushed your port, you struggled to push yourself off the chair with your remaining strength. The onset of tiredness after chemo was clearly noticeable. Your best friend put her arms carefully around your waist to support you as you both walked slowly towards the exit, your eyes darting on the floor the entire time as you rested your head on her shoulder.

---

Andy quickly unlocked the door of your apartment as she dragged you along, her arms wrapped tightly around your body as if she had to hold you together so you would not fall apart. "Here we are, I will put you to bed right away,"

You nodded, unable to speak. You had not said anything since the hospital, had almost fallen asleep on the car ride if the young firefighter had not driven over every hill she saw on the road.

Putting the key on the dresser and tossing her bag dryly in the corner, she walked with you into your bedroom and laid you down. "Do you need something?" the brunette started with her responsible tasks towards you and began to take off your shoes.

"Go to work, I will be fine" was your weak and almost whispered answer as you sprawled out on your bed. Squeezing the soft pillow comfortably under your head, you held it tightly with both hands.

"I took today off. I will take care of you," she spoke softly, pulling a thick blanket over your trembling and sweaty body; the side effects of the chemotherapy already starting to show. Her warm hand brushed some stray strands of hair away from your face and followed the curves of your body until her hand rested on the outsides of your pelvis, stroking it encouragingly.

A strong growl caught her attention off guard and made her chuckle. Your entire face wrinkled at the sound and the uncomfortable feeling stretching in your stomach, which is why you hid deeper in the covers. "Bonita, have you eaten anything today?"

"No, but I am not hungry anyway"

"You have to eat something," she lectured you immediately, getting up from her seat. Andy was already on her way to the kitchen when she turned back to you. "Try to relax a little. I will be right back"

Vanishing from the room, she remained optimistic about getting you a sensible and healthy lunch even though you had nothing in the fridge to use up. Ever since the chemotherapy started, you have not had the energy to pursue your favorite pastime- cooking.

With a lot of creativity and a slightly slimmed down recipe, the brunette conjured up a warm soup for you. It would fill you up with a few types of vegetables in it, had enough vitamins and gave you strength, but it was not difficult to swallow.

Filling it into a small bowl, she walked back to you with slow steps, so as not to spill anything. But she stopped in the doorway and casted a feeble look down at you. In the meantime she cooked something for you, your eyes closed and you had completely disappeared under the covers, that were up to your nose. Andy heard soft, rattling breaths and watched as the sheet moved up and down in even movements.

Andy quickly brought the soup back to the kitchen before she carefully lay down next to you on the free space. Her head lowered tenderly onto yours as she wrapped an arm around you and rubbed your arm compassionately.

Worries spread through her again; she did not know about you or your state of health at the moment. You did not want to answer any questions about it, you kept quiet about your illness, although everyone around you could see more and more that your strength was dwindling. Soft tears rolled down the bridge of her nose as her body trembled gently against yours.

She was not ready to let you go.

[rigginsstreet]

Its pure coincidence, really, that Steve sees it. He's not meant to—nobody is meant to; the streets are dark and darkness is for the things you don't want people to witness.

Things like patrolling the town with a gun in your pocket. Newly cleaned, handed over by the Chief of police, because nail bats are all well and good but they're a close-range kind of deal, and Steve's come to learn that sometimes when the nails bite in, its hard to pry them back out.

Things like Billy Hargrove, alone, glowing faintly in the illumination of a golden streetlight, hazy smoke dancing around his curls as he stares into a storefront window. Just... Standing there. Looking. Smoking.

For a moment, Steve thinks Billy's gonna break the glass. Take whatever trinket he's looking at. For another, Steve thinks maybe Billy's just admiring his own reflection. Both are plausible. Neither would surprise him.

He's not sure why he sticks around, honestly. Lurks in the shadows like the kind of thing he's out here watching for. Waits until Billy spits out his stub, grinds it under his heel, tucks his hands in his pockets and in a handful of steps lets the darkness swallow him whole.

Steve waits a little longer. A little longer still. And then. Walks toward the spot he can still see the faintest cloud of smoke lingering, like its waiting for him.

He's not there to see Billy find the small, velvet box in his locker three days later. Left front and centre on top of a flat stack of schoolbooks, a battered copy of I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings stolen from a Californian school library. A statement of what twenty bucks and a bag of jelly beans palmed off to Eddie Munson in the middle of the woods will get you.

He is there, though, to see the flash of blue amidst golden curls in the hazy sunshine that weekend. The earring sways and kisses the hinge of Billy's jaw in flutters, like an eager lover, when the Camaro digs its heels into the tarmac outside the arcade, spits Max out in a barrage of red hair and insults.

Billy tips his head against the window frame, ringlets falling aside to bare the cut blue stone and the clear ones that frame the tear-drop diamond earring to the mid-day sun. The light glints, makes the earring wink at him like its saying I know what you've done, and Steve's staring. He knows he is. Knows Billy knows it too because there's three blots of blue looking at him now and he's thinking about how the centre stone matches Billy's eyes, almost, and then Billy's gone.

He tucks his hand into his pocket. Leans back against the Beemer's sun-warm body. Runs his thumb over the smooth, polished surface of the matching blue in his pocket, and thinks. They've got a part of each other, now.

LET BILLY HAVE ALL THE PRETTY THINGS!!!!!!

idk who yall are that send me these immaculate lil fics in my inbox but im kissing you on the mouth

[lucy-dulap]

Rain Dance

For the last two days, Gamigin has been staying with Lucy 24/7. He just couldn't make himself part with his best friend more than a toilet brake and rushing to get food for the both of them. Even falling off the small hospital bed was worth it because he was there with Lucy.

But his cottage needed costant maintnance if he didn't want it to became part of the forest. He was playing with Lucy's hair, waiting for them to wake up so he could explain his plan to them.

"Neața..." Lucy whispered and nuzzled to Gamigin's chest. Gamigin started to giggle, crying out "it tickles", words that only determined Lucy to tease the dragon more.

A few minutes of torture later, Gamigin was finally free. His flushed face mixed with his soft panting made Lucy themselves blush. Through all the porn they've read and watched during the years, seing someone real make this face was disarming. They shouldn't think such lewd images involving Gamigin, but it was hard to stop their mind from wondering what other sounds they could force out of him.

With a last large inhale, Gamigin got up and grabbed Lucy's funeral outfit from the corner.

"You're going home with me." It wasn't a question, but certainly not a demand either. It was a confimation, since inquiring about something you know the answer to would be meaningless.

Lucy had always wanted to see Gamigin's cottage, partly because they refused to believe it was real. The idea of a fancy hospital with mechinary they didn't even know existed and a little cottage in the woods coexisting in close proximity to eachother was absurd to say the least.

While they changed, Gamigin just stared, even helping them put on their shirt and pants. He was numb to naked bodies at this point. 8 years of studying anatomy under Lucifer made any sexual thought revolving around nudess die out.

It was quite early in the morning, so nobody would be able to see Gamigin running off with his patient. At least that was his thought process. They rushed down the maze like halls of the hospital and finally got out through a small door in the corner.

"Only people from Paradise Lost know this door. We hold a lot of dificult devils in here, so the main door is closed most of the time. Also, his Majesty Lucifer doesn't like people outside the country running around through his gardens." Gamigin whispered as they carefully made their way through the forest.

The white marble streets abruptly stopped and wild weeds started adorning the ground. Gamigin was holding Lucy's hand firmly, making sure that they couldn't get seperated and lost.

"Are you sure there's no bears or wolves in here?" Lucy whispered closing up to Gamigin. "Of course there are wild animals in the wild. There's no need to worry though, as long as you don't anger them they won't attack."

They didn't talk during their trip, the singing of the birds and the foreign look to the forest fascinated Lucy and made them look around like a child in the toy store. Soon enough they reached the cottage.

"Holy shit, it's real!"

"I didn't know poop could be devine or what this has to do with my house, but yeah! It is real! Wanna go inside?" There was only excitment behind Gamigin's voice. He rarely had guests in his home, mostly Jjok and Lucifer, even though with Lucifer's new found title of king seldomed his visits.

"Of course I want to see your cottage! What are you hiding in there, Mr. Dragon?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy?" Gamigin poked Lucy's nose and held the door opened for them. Showing Gamigin vines was the best idea Lucy ever had and now they got to enjoy the results.

The cottage was quite basic, nothing exciting about it. A bed, a stove, a pot and some wood utensils, a few clothes put on top of a chair.

"I can make you something to eat while we're here. I don't keep ingredients in my house, but there's anything you could ever want in the forest."

"There's no need, I'm not hungry."

"You're never hungry."

Until now, Gamigin had to distract Lucy for them to actually eat. They were never hungry, or at least that's what they told him. He was worried for their safety at this point. How could an animal live without substinance... the truth is it couldn't. Seeing Gamigin's concerned look, Lucy relented.

"Ok, let's just go pick raspberries from outside." Gamigin's face brightened. He swiftly put the clothes on the chair on hangers and motioned for Lucy to follow him outside.

Near the cottage was a lake and near the lake was a bush with small raspberries ripe for picking.

"Do we just... eat them from the bush?" Lucy questioned.

"Of course!"

"Aren't they dirty?"

"From what? There's no dust in the forest. Plus, you build imunity." Gamigin seemed to have a very possitive atitute about eating unwashed fruit. Lucy just shrugged and started picking the berries.

After a while, Lucy feels a drop of water fall on their sholder, followed by many more begining to decend. Lucy shoots up and looks around franticly while Gamigin just stares in confusion.

Lucy walks up to Gamigin and tries to pick him up. "We have to go back to the cottage!" The dragon just walked closer to the lake were the thick tree branches wouldn't stop the raindrops from soaking his outfit. Lucy protested while curling up to a tree in hope of some kind of protection.

"Come on, Lucy, it's just a bit of rain. Isn't it beautiful?" He tried to get them away from the forest, to show them the true beauty of rainfall.

"I'll get sick." Lucy cried out when Gamigin pulled them into the drizzle.

"And? Even if you die, I'll bring you right back. Death isn't permanent as long as I'm with you." Gamigin's joyful yet morbid words made Lucy realise once more that they weren't in the human world anymore. The rain felt strangely calming on their skin and they soon started to enjoy the feeling.

A small laughter escaped Lucy's mouth and before they knew it, Gamigin playfully slapped their sholder. "Tag, you're it!"

"Oh, you cheeky bastard. I'll catch you!"

"Never!"

They ran around in circles, hiding behind trees, jumping over the smaller sections of the lake and having a blast the whole way through. Once the two tired out, they simply layed on the grass next to one another.

"I want to climb a tree" Lucy whispered and got up.

"What?"

"I want to climb a tree. I haven't done it since... I can't even remember. I was always so scared of falling and braking something." Lucy looked around the forest and found the perfect candidate for a beginner climber.

With the new found courage and vocal encouragment of Gamigin, they started climbing the tree. One leg on the ground, another on a branch, trying to activate their neatherdal instincs. When they thought they had the hang of it, their foot slipped.

"GAMIGIN! I'm going to die!" They screeched and flailed, but Gamigin just held their leg. "You won't die. I won't let you. Now climb that tree, Lucy! I know you can do it!"

It took a while for them to regain their composeur, but soon they were at the top of the tree. They were panting as they looked down at Gamigin's grinning figure. The tree wasn't very tall, but for Lucy, it felt like they had concured the world. They let out a victory scream and started laughing manicly.

"I did it! Oh my God, I did it! Gamigin, I'm gonna jump!"

Before he could answer, Lucy already jumped. He both landed on the ground and Gamigin instantly healed their wound before their brains could register the pain.

Seeing Lucy smiling while their clothes were soaked and their hair was wet... it made Gamigin feel strange. He wasn't oblivious of the concept of sex or sexual attraction, but he never felt it before. Was this it? Was he experiencing arousel for the first time? Maybe he was... this human was a lot of first things for Gamigin. He was thankful for the rain since it helped him feel grounded against the overwhelming tides of his new-found vigor.

Gamigin started stroking Lucy's cheek and they turned to him instinctively. The hearts in his eyes and the soft look he was giving them teased what he was about to say. He leaned closer and murmured.

"I love you so much... in ways I've never loved anyone before. I don't know what the future holds... but I can't see myself being happy without you."

Lucy was frozen. Gamigin's words were romantic and they partly felt the same way as him but when Gamigin leaned in for a kiss they just got up and cleared their throat.

"I love you too, Gamigin. But I don't feel comfotable doing romantic stuff yet. I just... I don't want to kiss you. But I love you deeply." Lucy's words were confusing for the dragon, but he didn't question them. Lucy's feeling were their own and they had the right to have them.

"Does that mean we're a couple now?" He inquired while walking next to Lucy. "I think it does. I don't know, I've never been in a relationship before."

"Me neither! It's the first time I'm someone's boyfriend. Oh, than I have to present you to my whole family and you'll introduce me to yours. And your dad will be this intimidating figure that won't approve of us and I'll have to come sing you love songs during the night while you stare from the balcony!"

"I think I showed you way too many Disney Chanel movies."

With that, the new couple strolled through the forest eventually reaching the hospital once more.

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

Bonus:

Gamigin and Lucy entering the hospital like soaked cats while the whole Paradise Lost crew looks at them

Marbas: Where have you been?

Gamigin and Lucy both giggle and nudge eachother

Lucy: We were at Gamigin's cottage

Gamigin: And it started raining and we played hide and seek and

Lucy: Don't forget the tree!

Gamigin: And we found a snail!

Lucy: Named him Dorian because he looks like a Dorian

Marbas: Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to go around in the rain?

Lucifer with a soft smile: Marbas! You two are so silly, go take a bath, change and than you can tell me more about your adventures in the forest.

[i-am-hoo-iyam]

Iiiii never ever post snd nobody even looks at my shit. But i made fizzaroli sick from sugar

Making fizaroonie sit still

“HEY HEY HEY! Who’s this your meeting with?” Ozzie shoed fizz out his office door. “Someone important. Can I have five minutes please?” Fizz huffed. “I’m goin out shopping. That way I can buy all the things I added to the list but you won’t get me.” Ozz wasn’t paying attention as he was focused on the person. “Don’t you dare leave without an escort. Hiii sorry he’s a handful sometimes. Now what were you saying?”

Fizz grabbed the nearest imp that worked for oz and ran out the door. He leapt in the car and the imp pushed him into the passenger seat. Hell would freeze over before fizz was allowed at the wheel. “Sighhhhh. Where to?” “THE MALL! NOW GUN IT!” “What about the much closer and smaller grocery store?” Fizz blew a raspberry. “That place is boring as fuck and I’m also banned from there for life. Butttttt if I got a disguise… sure why not! All I need is a disguise! Let’s fucking GO!”

While the imp drove, fizz rummaged around in the glove compartment. He pulled out a hoodie of Ozzie’s that said ‘I’m your daddy’. He put it on. He pulled the hood tight. “Perfect!”

Fizz burst into the room with five boxes of ‘hella bomb sugar flakes with dick shaped marshmallows!’ Two were already violently ripped apart and emptied. “Immmmm back!” “Yes sorry one moment. Ok did you remember the milk?” “Fuck the milk I got hot flats!(hells pop tarts)!” ��The only thing. The one thing in the list. And you got everything EXEPT MILK, THE ONE THING ON THE LIST”. His neck fur combusted again. “Shit I’m sorry boss! You know me at the store”. “Aren’t you banned from the store? Sorry I have to get back to my client”. “Can I hang out with you? I have nothing better to do and you’re a fun person!” Oz sighed. “Fine but sit still and BE QUIET” he turned back to the bird noble, who was chuckling.

Fizz tore up the last three boxes of cereal very loudly and then started choking. He got on his hands and knees and coughed and coughed. Ozz sprang into action and squeezed him. The cereal spoon went flying. “What have I said about eating too fast”. He turned back to the bird.

Fizz pulled out a sex toy and pleasured himself. He pulled out a mic and started singing. “I’m fizzeroli! My money be rollin! Y’all be falling behind while I’m on the fucking STAGGEEEEE” “SHUTTHE FUCK UP. BE QUIET OR GET THE FUCK OUT”. “Ahem sorry sir I’ll practice my act later”.

Fizz pulled out a pad of paper. “Those lyrics suck anyways. Hmmm every inch of me is on fire… I’m your deepest desire… thst sounds more like a song for my boss. I’m sure oz will love it!” He scribbled away in the corner.

Sugar. SUGAR. SUGAR FUCKING RUSH. That’s what five boxes of cereal will do to you. Fizz shot straight up in the air and ran around the room. “HOO HOO HOOO HOO HOO HOO HOO! IM ON A FUCKING SUGAR HIGH, BITCHES”. He grabbed the naught candy bowl off Ozzie’s desk and ate it in one gulp. “HOO HOO HOO THIS SHIT IS REALLY FUCKED UP NOW, BITCHES”! Fizz climbed up Ozzie and balanced on his head. “I’m king of this FUCKING MOUNTAIN”. Ozzie bit his tongue to try and keep his temper in front of the client and tossed fizz out the door.

Ozz ignored the sound of furniture being torn up and his imps getting terrorized. Fizz burst back in. “Waaaa I don’t feel good” Ozz shoved him aside and ignored him. Fizz blew a raspberry and left.

Fizz came back and he wasn’t bouncing around. He gently tapped ozzys shoulder and ozzy shoved him away again. He tugged on Ozzie’s arm. “I need five minutes I’m wrapping up. Then I can play”. Fizz tugged harder. “Ozzzieeeee”. “I need FIVE MINUTES”. Fizz walked right in front of him looking angry and proceeded to projectile vomit all the sugar he ate across the room. And on Ozz. And the client.

Ozz picked up fizz and placed him outside of the office so he wouldn’t get hurt. He showed the disgruntled owl noble out the door and slammed it. There was a lot of yelling and things smashing. There was what sounded like a wall being punched out and things catching fire. There was a final yell and heavy breathing.

Oz stepped out of his office, all clean cuz he had a spare suit or he used demon magic or shit. “Hey fizz. You ok lil man? Honey? Where’d you go?” Fizz was in the corner of the room infront of another pile of puke. Fizz looked around and the room was empty. He picked up fizz who hugged him tight. “Aw fizz. I’m sorry baby. Cmere bby. I’m sorry.” He teleported to his bedroom and helped fizz clean up and get dressed in his favorite ‘hell doggy’ onsie. “Hey snf Ozz?” “Yes baby?” “Can we do that again sometime? Thst was so much fucking fun!”

[inemi]

Peter Fox - Haus am See Official Music Video

I was born here and I walk the streets here

Know the faces, every house and every shop

I have to go, I know every pigeon here by name

Thumbs out, I'm waiting for a fancy woman with a fast car

The sun is blinding, everything flies by

And the world behind me is getting smaller

But the world in front of me was made for me, mh-mh

I know she's waiting and I'll pick her up

I've got the day on my side, I've got the wind at my back

A roadside women's choir singing for me

I lean back and look into the deep blue

Close your eyes and just walk straight ahead

And at the end of the street there is a house by the lake

Orange tree leaves lie on the path

I have 20 children, my wife is beautiful, mh

Everyone comes by, I never have to go outside (whoo)

(Seen in a dream, the house by the lake)

I'm looking for new land with unfamiliar roads

Strange faces and nobody knows my name

Win everything when playing with marked cards

Losing it all, God has a hard left hook

I dig up treasures in snow and sand (yikes)

And women drive me crazy

But at some point I'll be pursued by luck, mh-mh

And come back with both pockets full of gold

I invite the old birds and relatives (whoo)

And everyone starts crying with joy

We grill, the mums cook and we drink schnapps

And party every night for a week

And the moon shines bright on my lake house

Orange tree leaves lie on the path

I have 20 children, my wife is beautiful, mh

Everyone comes by, I never have to go outside (whoo)

(seen in a dream, the house by the lake, whou)

And at the end of the street there is a house by the lake

Orange tree leaves lie on the path

I have 20 children, my wife is beautiful, mh

Everyone comes by, I never have to go outside

I was born here, I will be buried here

I have deaf ears, a white beard and sit in the garden

My 100 grandchildren play cricket on the lawn

When I think about it, I can hardly wait

[stardust-in-my-mind-blog]

groggy bitterness

something is chittering outside my window

I don't think it's a bird but I can't tell what kind of creature

would be so bold or rude or loud this time of night

I did too much today and I'm overtired and grumpy

and need to be up in three hours to get everyone ready

I tried to go back to sleep but too many systems are on now

so here I am writing something to try and get my heart

to feel like it's not made of some dense kind of stone

what's going on in there? who knows.

maybe I can dump something into words

and feel inspired to go back to bed

a three hour nap is nothing to scoff at

today was good and I could feel an old rhythm

the last day of summer for my older two

my son and I are making rules about plans

because when he expects to go somewhere

immediately or change plans without telling me

and I go to pick him up somewhere and meet nobody

I can see that pattern really pissing me off if it continues

so we made a fifteen minute rule and I'm teaching both of us

a language to use and a way to makes these plans

in a way we both understand and show up for

systems and processes take awhile to build

and once we build it maybe the teen years will be smoother

my girl and I can synch up and understand each other quickly

but the boys have lots of questions when I tell them something

and I'm learning how to explain everything in a logical way

that tends to satisfy us both when it's explained

they like to think ahead and solve the problem quickly

decide the direction even if they have no clue where they are going

and I let them and follow along because I can see how

triumphant they feel when their instincts are right

it's so fun watching them all build their confidence

in all these new situations being presented to them

my daughter and I like to think about the possibilities

and why we got here and how we feel about it

but those boys just want to find the wall and climb it

walk along the edge and try to push each other off

I do love the chaos even when I have to tell them

in public to at least try to act domesticated

I don't think I'll be able to sing tomorrow

and I feel conflicted but not worried

I know I'll return just the same next week

it's kind of part of me now

maybe if I go walk in the grass under the stars

I can get some of this restless energy out

the grass will be wet now and my feet will be cold

not looking forward to that

but writing isn't really making anything flow

so maybe the sensory discomfort will make me

long again for my warm cozy bed

the creature outside my window has gone silent

so the odds are ever in my favor

for the outcome I want to go back to sleeeep

[kingofdandelions]

Okay so I have already got brainrot for the faint music ear plugs looted one, so Imma write something for it

Whats happening?

My vision shows only a blur of colors and my head hurts. I vaguely remember being scared.

Oh.

I remember now.

The apocalypse has started

My shoes sound too loud as I stand up from the floor, but maybe thats just because everything else is so silent. Except for some faint singing. I can remember where I was before I woke up, but I am currently in an empty street. I don't feel hungry or thirsty, but it'll probably come sooner or later, so I start walking around to find water. Or food. Or people who can show me where to get either of those things. Or just a place to sleep as safely as you can in the apocalypse.

Where are all the people? I dont get it, its a none destroyed place so it should be filled with people. Most of the safe places to be are completely crowded, yet this one seems lifeless. Soundless. I cant see any birds. Or the sky. Its cloudy so I cant even use the sunset to navigate. I cant remember what way I came from. I cant remember much.

Did I hit my head? I must have.

Its evening, I think. I dont really know. I see a supermarket. Thats good, that means supplies and most likely people. Or traces that can lead me to people.

My ears are ringing. Or is that just a supermarket jingle, somehow still playing when the rest of the world has started to decay? Is it just me lossing my mind?

The aisles of food are suprisingly full. They look untouched. Paranoia starts to sink in as I check if anyone has taken some of the water. Nobody has. Thats a bad sign. Why haven't anyone been here? Why is there no sign of people at all? Someone has to have been here to restock all the fresh looking food.

I look around to see any traces of people. Any sign that anyone has ever been here. My steps are too loud. My breathing is too loud. My heartbeat is too loud. I search through the entire supermarket.

I feel scared. Its so silent. I would give anything for the sound of people talking in the distance. Are there even any people left? Am I the last one?

In the corner of my eye I notice that someone had taken something. I walk towards it. I hear a slight ringing in my ears as I realise that the only thing anyone has touched in this whole supermarket is the earplugs.

I dont understand it. My head hurts. Is someone doing this to psych me out? Why would the only thing missing be earplugs? I dont get it! How long have I been here, searching the supermarket for signs of people? How long have I been here? I want to ask someone. I want to know I'm not going insane. I need to know I'm not the last person on earth. I need to talk to another human.

Theres someone singing outside. Theres a person outside! There is a person there! Another person than me! I let out a laugh. It sounds manic, but i dont care. Im not alone. Theres someone there! I can hear them singing the same melody that Ive been hearing since I woke up. Theres another human!

I run towards the sound. Its more than singing, maybe a music box? I dont care. Theres a person and Im not going to be alone. I forget that its the apocalypse and I need to be careful to survive. I forget that music doesnt necessarily mean humans. Who cares about that anyways? I think about how better life will be when I reach whoever is playing. I wonder if they will teach me how to play whatever instrument they're playing. Thank god theres someone out here other than me.

I continue running to my death.

Enough random notes that have a written story on them as environmental storytelling, explore the space, get crazier with it.

You move into a house and aw cute, it has the kids height on the walls but you notice there's a three foot difference in height between measurements, you check the date, they're a month apart. The final measurement is on the ceiling. It's dated two days ago.

You're part of a recovery team that have finally found a stranded ship, they were found too late and have all passed a long time ago. They all died of starvation. You enter their storeroom, it's filled with food. In the dining hall you find the tables laden with perfectly fine looking breads, cakes, cured meats, jams, candies. Your medic says all the people sitting at the table didn't eat a Thing.

You wake up in an apocalypse. You can't find anyone at all as you wander the streets but you do hear faint music playing from somewhere. You stumble into a supermarket, to see all the aisles still full, except for the shelf that was full of ear plugs, which look to be the only thing that was looted.

Like there's light, sound, props. Having a street where every house is decimated except for One. Landing on a planet known for having No Water and a plant is growing and you don't know where it could have possibly gotten moisture from but you can't find the citizens Anywhere.

I'm sorry, I'm just kinda over the "graffiti on the wall to show the bad guy is around". That's not environmental storytelling that's just normal story. Show me I'm in the villains territory by the rain suddenly cutting out above me as I'm driving, even though it's meant to be raining all night. I park the car and step out, and realise the constellations are Wrong, until I see they're Not constellations, they're the blinking lights of a massive ship-

I Will stop now because everytime I go to write a sentence it devolves into another prompt but I'm just saying we have a Lot of senses, engage them, show me the Environment in environmental storytelling.

[deathbymeow]

My Girl

This is linked to my 'Tempting Fate with a Pixie' and happens 6 months after that fic. Can be read alone though.

I wanted to do some thing cute for Valentines Day and this is what I ended up with. Cute? Maybe. Silly? Definitely!

It's kinda a song fic but not, to the song 'My Girl' by The Temptations.

Everything in italics is singing.

Warnings: some naughty words, soft violence and sexual themes.

Also no beta I can't spell be warned

>.<

Love does funny things to people. If you asked Jason six months ago if falling in love would change him, you’d have been met with a cold glare and depending on who you were, maybe even a punch to the face.

He still might deny it, but his brothers would beg to differ. It should have been like any other patrol, but Jason was counting the hours till he got home to Marinette. She’d been gone for a week, and they’d been apart for their first valentine’s day. It was the longest they’d ever been apart since Dick had set them up as roommates. Jason hated to admit it, but he missed her like crazy. Their shared apartment felt so lonely without her if you didn’t include the seventeen kwami she’d left behind. So, the two love birds were planning on celebrating a late valentine as soon as Jason got home.

He was a little annoyed that he’d been called out to patrol. He should have been there to pick her up from the airport and then spend the night worshiping her body. Unfortunately, Tim had intercepted a cryptic message and the drug exchange they’d been waiting for was happening tonight.

Alfred had offered to pick her up from the airport and drop her home and Marinette insisted she understood. After all it was her commitments to Paris' fashioned week that forced her to miss valentine’s day in the first place.

So here he was sitting on a warehouse roof kicking his legs humming a tune while waiting for a bunch of crooks to show up with a truck tone of drugs. His brothers were on different rooftops all keeping an eye out. They were all a little bored. It had been over an hour and even the thugs below looked over the wait.

“Hood. would you stop that excessive noise.” Robin grumbled through the comms.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, demon spawn.” Hood replied. Then he did something nobody was expecting. “I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day. When it’s cold outside, I’ve got the month of May.” He sung in perfect harmony if you ignored the voice modulator.

“Hood you imbecile, don’t make me come over there and silence you. I know fifty-four ways to cut a man’s tongue out and I’ll use the messiest way just to prove a point.” Robin growled.

Red Hood ignored him and sang the next part. “I guess you’d say, what can make me feel this way? My girl, my girl, my girl. Talkin bout my girl.”

“Whipped much.” Red Robin snickered. “Say bigbird you’ve been awfully quiet. Not like you to not join in. Tell me, is it still weird your little brother is doing it with your new sister?”

“Shut it Red.” Nightwing snaped. He was still getting his head around having to share his new sister’s attention with Jason. He’d only known she existed for a few months before he’d left Jason to look after her. He should have known better. Don’t get him wrong he was happy for the two. She had been just what Jason needed to keep him grounded. The two love birds had been inseparable and moved in together as soon as they found an apartment. Dick wouldn’t be surprised if Jason asked her to marry him soon. He was happy, he really was. It was just weird.

“Okay boys. Heads in the game. Here they come.” Oracle’s voice came over the comms and the four vigilantes prepared themselves to intercept.

Oracle knew how Dick felt but she was truly happy for Jason. She didn’t know Marinette well, but she’d seen the change in Jason, and he seemed truly happy for the first time in well forever. So, she couldn’t help but support Jason’s good mood.

As the four vigilantes started to fight the song My Girl started to play through their comms thanks to Oracle.

Jason snickered in his helmet and started to sing along. “Oh yeah, I don’t need money,” He took out a thug with one hit to the face.

“Fortune or fame.” The next one came at him with a bat, but he danced out of the way and grabbed it, slamming the end of it into the thugs face.

“I’ve got riches one man can claim.” He twirled around and took out another two with the bat.

“My girl, my girl, my girl.” One thug landed a hit on his side. He dropped the bat and took out his gun, firing it at the thug’s foot. The rubber bullet wouldn’t piece the skin, but it would leave one hell of a bruise. When the thug dropped to his knees, Red Hood grabbed his head and slammed it into his knee then threw him to the ground. He threw his hands out holding a gun in each and moonwalked backwards still singing.

“Talkin bout my girl, my girl. Talkin bout my girl.” Two thugs approached him, one from either side clearly not noticing his guns probably due to the distraction of his dancing. He fired in time to the music taking both thugs out at the same time.

“Ohh. Ohh, hey hey hey. Hey hey hey.” He spun around, holstering his guns in one swift motion.

“Are you done?” Nightwing asked him with folded arms and a frown.

“Mood much? I get it through. Not everyone can have moves as good as mine.” Hood snickered still dancing around while Robin and Red Robin tied the thugs up shaking their heads.

Nightwing just huffed and turned away from his ridiculous brother.

“Good job boys. Hood didn’t know you had it in you. GCPD are on their way. Go home to your girl Hood. The others can wrap it up.” Oracle laughed into the comms.

“I’ve got the next 48 hours off. Don’t text, call or show up at my place.” Red Hood gave his brothers a two fingered salute then shot his grappling hook on to the nearest rooftop.

As he swung away, he sung, “I’m coming for my giiiiirrrrrrllllllllll,” into the comms making his brother groan.

Moments later he landed on the fire escape of his apartment and climbed through the window, throwing his helmet and gloves on the couch. “Hey Pixie, it’s just me” He yelled kicking his boots off and heading for the bedroom.

Jason found Marinette lying on her stomach with her feel in the air reading one of his books. She looked adorable and his heart melted at the sight. She was wearing one of his t-shirts and he could see a hint of something red and lacey underneath.

She smiled up at him as he took his mask and jacket off. He didn’t waste any time jumping on the bed and rolling her over before laying on top of her carful not to squish her. “Hey baby girl. I’ve missed you so much.”

She giggled as he rubbed his nose against hers and grabbed his face, prepping kisses over his nose “I’ve missed,” his eyes, “you,” to his cheek bones, “too,” then finally his lips.

Jason ran his hand down her side as she tilted her head to the side to deepen the kiss. She wrapped her legs around his waist then gentle pushed his face back and staired into his lust filled eyes.

“Jay?”

“Mmm Pix?”

“Did you wear your guns in the bedroom again?”

“Nope, I’m just happy to see you?” He said giving her a shit eating grin.

“Uh-uh, you know the rules. You don’t want the kwami in the bedroom same goes for your guns.”

“That’s completely different. Plagg has it out for me and that’s just creepy.”

“That’s because you keep eating his cheese.”

“Hey in my defensive, you buy him the expensive stuff.”

“As bribery so he gives us some privacy. Privacy you’re wasting so lose the guns and get me naked already.” She said pushing his shoulders, trying to get him to move.

“Anyone would think you only want me for my…” Before he could finish, she slapped his shoulder. “Okay, Okay I’m going.” He said laughing.

Jason started to unbuckle his gun holster from his thighs and waist. He spotted Plagg perched on the top of the kwami cat scratching post. “Don’t you even think about hiddin them again vermin.” He grumbled to the little black cat.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Plagg crossed his little paws and turned his nose up. “Not my fault you don’t know how to look after your stuff.”

Jason eyed him for another second before pulling off his top and throwing at the god of destruction. There was a muffled yelp then the top disintegrated to a pile of dust.

“You mangy cat. When I get my hands on you, I’m going to flush you down the toilet. It may not be today or tomorrow but you’re gonna pay for that one way or another.” Jason hissed so Marinette wouldn’t hear.

“Jay, what’s taking you so long?” Marinette’s voice came from their bedroom.

“Coming baby.” He called while staring the little cat down.

“Whipped.” Plagg stuck his tongue out at Jason then disappeared into the tower.

Jason sighed. He wasn’t going to let the devil in a tiny cat suit ruin his night. Pulling his socks and pants off he walked back into the bedroom in his boxers. “As you can see, I’m almost completely naked. Feel free to pat me down and search me if you must.” He only noticed then that the soft light in the room was from dozens of candles. Lying on their bed was his girl who was no longer wore his t-shirt.

Marinette was wearing the Red Hood bra and panties set she’d worn on their first night together. Jason instantly forgot about Plagg and joined Marinette on their bed. “Happy Valentine’s Day Pixie."

“Happy Valentine’s Day Jay.” Marinette breathed against his lips before closing the gap.

The next morning Jason woke up to the message tone on his phone going off. He ignored it snuggling his chin into Marinette’s hair and tightened his arms around her. She was curled up half on top of him. Her head was nestled under his chin, and he could feel her warm breath on his bare chest. One of her arms was around his waist and one leg thrown over his.

He started to drift off to sleep when his phone went off again. What was wrong with people, he’d clearly said not to contact him. Marinette mumbled something about ‘too early’ and ‘not letting him go yet’. Jason reached for his phone to silence it. The last thing he wanted was to wake Marinette up yet. He knew for a fact she hadn’t been sleeping much the last few weeks to meet deadlines and they had been ‘busy’ till the early hours of the morning.

Jason looked at his phone and groaned. Great, just fucken great. Tim had sent him several links to different social media sites. Seemed someone had caught last night’s performance on camera, with audio.

The hashtag #whoshoodsgirl was trending with #batsthemusical, #phantomofthebathouse, #whotamedhood #talkinbouthoodsgirl and #hoodsgirl. Then there were headlines like, ‘is it love or the drugs?’, ‘Red Hood expecting baby girl with mystery lover’, ‘Inside scoop, she said yes! Red Hood’s secret wedding” and the list went on.

He tossed his phone onto the bed and ran his hand over his face. Why couldn’t he just have a normal life. Was it too much to ask for?

Deciding he wasn’t going to get anymore sleep he wriggled out from under Marinette, carefully tucked her back in and kissed her forehead. He grabbed sweatpants and put them on. Walking around naked with a house full of kwami wasn’t the best idea. He found this out the hard way cooking breakfast naked for Marinette one morning. Let’s just say jump scares while working with hot oil is something Jason didn’t want to relive.

Jason poured a juice then got started on breakfast. He loved to cook and in times like this it helped to clear his mind, almost. The Red Hood had earned a name for himself as the morally grey Bat. The one you didn’t mess with. He had street cred, sure it wasn’t such a big deal, and he wasn’t the killer he once was, but it helped the vigilante lifestyle when criminals were scared of you. Would they still fear him after this? Who knows? When he really thought about it, he realised it didn’t matter anymore.

He had something he’d never had before. Not just happiness but love. Someone he could spend the rest of his life with. Marinette understood him on every level. He didn’t have to explain anything, she just got him. Love was always something he was scarred of but loving her came as easy as breathing.

Marinette was his everything and he didn’t care what Gotham thought about him, as long as she was by his side nothing else mattered. Unfortunately, he knew he was going to have to put up with endless teasing from his family.

First things first, feeding the love of his life with his amazing cooking and lots and lots of coffee and hoping she hadn’t cheeked social media.

It was at that point a familiar tune started to play throughout the apartment making Jason regret the multiple speakers he’d installed in every room. He turned to find Marinette dancing in nothing but his t-shirt. She swayed her hips in time with the music with a mischievous smile on her beautiful face.

Jason crossed his arms over his bare chest and tried to act unimpressed, but it was near imposable watching her move like that knowing the cheeky minx probably didn’t have any panties on. And then she started to sing, and he couldn’t help but smile. Yeah, he was one lucky son of a bat.

“I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day, when it’s cold outside I’ve got the month of May. I guess you’d say what can make me feel this way. My Hood, takin bout my Hood.”

Marinette winked at him and twirled into his arms laughing. Once in his arms she continued to move her hips against him as she linked her arms around his neck. He grabbed her hips but didn’t stop her from moving.

“Only yours baby.” Jason breathed into her ear as he started to dance with her.

“So, patrol looked like fun last night?” Marinette said as he spun her around the kitchen.

“What can I say, ‘my girl’ was coming home.” He dipped her and the t-shirt slid up her thigh. Yep, his suspicions were right. Breakfast was going to have to wait.

“I didn’t know you were into dance fighting. Or is it fight dancing?” She laughed at the face he pulled at her.

“So, you saw huh?” He asked kissing her nose.

“Was a little hard not to. I still haven’t opened all the messages on my phone. My favourite was, ‘exclusive interview with Nightwing who reveals Red Hood just lost his virginity at thirty-four and that’s the reason he’s been so hostile.’ I think he’s still a little sore we’re dating.” Marinette said before bursting into fits of giggles.

“That fucker. I’m going to kill him. He added eleven years to my age and virgin my ass.” He growled. He was about to go grab his phone to call the dickhead when Marinette grabbed his face and kissed him. Everything was forgotten and he lifted her onto the kitchen bench.

Her hands tangled into his messy hair, and she moaned against into his mouth as he ran his hands under the t-shirt. He broke away momentarily to lift the t-shirt over her head then kissed her neck. She melted in his arms loving the warmth of his bare skin against hers. “Is that bacon and pancakes I smell?” She playfully asked knowing all too well that wasn’t the snack she was after.

“Sure is, but that’s going to have to wait. You know the no panties rule, Pix.” He practically growled against her neck.

“Yeah, I was counting on it.” She purred taking her turn to leave her mark on his neck then softly kissed and licked the red skin.

Jason moaned and pulled her hips against his. “What did I do to ever deserve you, Pix?” He softly asked, resting his forehead against hers.

“All the things.”

“All the things, huh Pix?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Not that I’m complaining but you’re in a good mood this morning.”

“What can I say, seeing you beating up thugs while singing and dancing was a real turn on.”

“Noted.” He grabbed her face and kissed her roughly earning another moan from her.

“Jay” She breathed against his lips not fully breaking the kiss.

“Mmhmm.”

“Kwami.”

“Right.”

Jason had no intention of hiding in his own apartment. The kwami were just going to have to divert their eyes and mind their own business for once.

“I’m going to do my girl, in my apartment, on my kitchen bench so if you know what’s good for you get in your box.” He said exaggerating the ‘my’.

“Jay.”

“Pixie.”

“Disgusting.”

“Plagg.” Both Jason and Marinette yelled as ‘My girl’ continued to play on repeat throughout the apartment.

‘I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day with my girl. I’ve even got the month if May with my girl. Talkin’ ‘bout, talkin’ ‘bout, my girl.’

[double-hoe-seven]

Conjugal Visit

Summary: Its time to visit your husband at good old Belle Reve Pairing: Robert DuBois/Bloodsport x Reader Word Count: 1,830 Warning(s): Smut, prison sex(?), allusion to violence and murder. 18+ MINORS DNI (DO NOT INTERACT)

"DuBois, you have a visitor!" One of the guards shouted while he scrubbed the floor. "I'm not in the mood to fight with my daughter and I under no circumstances want to see Waller," he growled. "Well then you're in luck, it's the only other person in your life from the outside," the guard said bored. "What? I'm not ready for a visitor." "Too bad. Let's go." The guard was getting impatient. Reluctantly, Robert got up and followed the man; at least he'd showered that morning. He followed them to one of the private visitation rooms; there you sat, wearing black boots, jeans, and t-shirt, and a midnight blue leather jacket with the black rings on your left hand. "You're a sight for sore eyes, love," he smiled as the guards uncuffed him and repeated their usual warnings before leaving the room, locking the door behind them.

"If I'd known you were coming I might have shaved," he commented as he approached you, pulling you into his embrace with he was close enough. "I don't know, babe, I quite like the beard. It makes you look distinguished," you said with a hum as you wrapped your arms around his neck loosely. "That's just a polite way of sayin' it makes me look old, innit?" He asked with a stifled chuckle. "Older and handsome, love," you corrected. "Did you come here to just take the piss at me or do you have a better reason?" He teased before leaning down and capturing your lips in a hungry, impassioned kiss. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you flush against him.

A deep groan left him when you gently bit and tugged his bottom lip, smirking up at him. "Needy little thing, ain't ya, love?" He hummed as he tossed your jacket aside, hastily doing the same with your shirt before scooping you up and laying you on the cheap bed in the room. His lips dropped from yours to your neck, leaving a trail of light bite marks in the wake as he trailed his lips down to your chest. "I don't know why you bother wearing bras when you visit me, love, they only get in my way," he chuckled as he unclasped the black lace of your bra, discarding it with a grin. "Because I'd rather not be led through a prison with-" your words were quickly cut off by a surprised moan when he leaned down and took one of your nipples into his mouth. His tongue circled the bud as he suckled gently, rolling the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

Robert alternated between the hardened peaks until you were a moaning, squirming mess beneath him. Your hips rocked against his needily as a whine escaped you "Robert..." "Use your words, love," he teased with a wicked grin. He chuckled to himself when you only shot him a glare. He unzipped your jeans and pulled them and your underwear down teasingly slowly; he pulled you to the edge of the bed and kneeled down throwing your legs over his shoulders. "I think this might be one of the things I miss most while I'm here, being able to just go down on you whenever the fuck I want," he said in a soft mutter as he ran his thumb along your wet slit. "Trust me, hon, you aren't the only one who misses it," you mumbled. Your back arched with the first swipe of his tongue. Two of his fingers teased your entrance before slowly pushing in as his tongue circled your clit slowly. What started out as slow drags of his fingers and tongue turned into him fucking you with his tongue and fingers, stretching you to prepare for him. He didn't stop until he felt your walls tensing around his digits, when he did he quickly pulled his fingers out and licked them clean, a small pleased groan leaving him as he watched you pant softly, a needy hunger in your eyes. He always did love bringing you right to the edge.

He quickly shed himself of his orange prisoner's uniform, taking his member into his hand as he climbed in bed over you. "I'll be outta here soon enough, love, then I'll take you somewhere proper and romantic," he promised before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, followed by a slow sensual kiss to your lips as he slowly pushed his length into you. His hand stroked your cheek when he felt you tense up, your tight warmth stretching to its limits to accommodate him "that's a good pet, takin' my cock so well." You wrapped your legs around his waist tightly while your nails dug into his shoulders.

Each slow drag and push of his hips pulled gentle moans from you. His pace quickly built up and he tightened your legs around him. "Is that the best you can give me, love?" You teased when he settled into a series of long, deep, slow thrusts. "Aw, does my needy little princess want it rough?" He almost cooed in false sympathy while slowing his hips. When you started trying to move your hips against him for any more friction than what he was giving, a small whine escaped you when his hand moved to hold your hips down "use your words, pet. Tell daddy exactly what you want or I'll just keep going slowly until I'm ready to finish." "Want you to fuck me until I leave here with a limp," you managed to say after a minute of trying to steel yourself.

The squeak that left your lips when he suddenly pulled out turned into a loud moan when he slammed back into you, setting a new brutal pace. You angled your hips up some so each thrust brought the head of his member harshly against your g-spot. "Fuck, Robert!" You moaned out louder when his thumb started rubbing fast tight circles on your clit. "That's it, little bird, sing for daddy so this entire fucking shithole can hear," he husked before nibbling and tugging on your ear lobe. "Say my name, Pet. Tell everyone who's you are," he growled, pinching your clit when your only answer was a moan that escaped your slightly parted lips. "Yours, Robert! All yours!" You moaned out, eagerly trying to match his thrusts but finding it harder to keep up with his roughness and brute force.

Soon, Robert sat back on his knees and pulled your hips flush against his with each more forceful thrust managing to hit even deeper places, places that were quickly bringing you closer to the edge. "Fuck, your warm walls are squeezing me so tightly. Play with your clit for me, yeah? I want to see all of you come undone but don't you dare cum until I say," he muttered lazily. He sat up fully and spread your legs a little further apart, transfixed on the sight of his length disappearing into you and coming out with your sweet nectar. You nodded and bit your lip as you traced shapes over your little button. "Good girl," he mumbled, his thrusts getting shorter but quicker, more of a rapid rutting. He smirked when he saw how hard you were trying to hold off "alright, Pet, you can let go." He might've whispered the words but they were clear to you.

As you came, you moaned out a series of curses and his name, your entire being quaking. Groaning as your walls tightened even more, he fell forward over you as he joined you in climax. His body covered yours while his forearms kept his weight off of you, his hips slowly rutting into you as you both came down. He planted a series of soft, languid kisses up your neck and along your jawline before finally kissing you softly, one of his hands coming up to gently brush some loose strands out of your face. Robert carefully maneuvered your bodies so he was laying on his back with you on his chest, his arms around your waist while his index finger absentmindedly traced shapes along your spine. You both laid there in comfortable silence, your rapid breaths slowing down were the only sounds in the room.

"Do you really think you'll be out of here soon, love?" You asked him hopefully, looking up at him with a small frown. "I do, darling. It won't be long before Waller comes with another suicide mission for me to lead," he grumbled before pecking your lips softly "I'll be home with you before you know it though, yeah?" "You promise? I miss waking up to your face between my legs," you joked. "Believe me, love, I miss that too. You always have been my favorite breakfast, or meal in general," a sly smirk crossed his face and he chuckled when you slapped his chest. "You're awful," you joked. "Baby, I'm an assassin, I'm not exactly a role model for anyone. I mean, for fucks sake, I almost killed Superman and if given the job again I'd take it," he said casually. "I know you would baby, maybe this time you'll succeed," you teased with a grin. "Watch it love or I'll have to bend you over my knee," he warned, squeezing your ass with a wicked smirk. "Oh no, please don't sp-" you started saying sarcastically before his hand quickly came down with a loud smack. "Wanna try that attitude again, princess?" He cocked his brow while he waited for your answer, giving you a quick kiss when you didn't say anything else.

Before either of you could react, the buzzer of the door unlocking and opening sounded and a woman walked in. "DuBois, Mrs. DuBois," she greeted flatly, unfazed by your nudity as you tried to cover your bodies with the sheet. "Fuck are you doing here, Waller?" Robert growled. "You have a new mission. And this time your wife's coming along. Isn't that right, Tracker?" She said. "Excuse me?" You and Robert said simultaneously. "That's right. We know about your side gig hunting down people the law let off. If either of you refuses to come on the mission or tries to abandon it, I'll hand over our evidence to the proper authorities. You, my dear, with not only be put in jail but you'll lose your license to practice law. Even if you managed to get it reinstated, nobody will hire a lawyer who knowingly married an assassin, the same one who put Superman in the ICU," Waller explained calmly. "You're threatening my fucking wife?!" Robert shouted as he sprung out of bed and pulled his boxers on. "I'm doing it for the safety of our country and the world," her voice was so eerily calm. "Robert, calm down. If it gets you home sooner, I'll do it," you told him as you sat up, using the bedsheet to cover your modesty. He looked at you like you'd just grown another head, in complete disbelief.

Tag Team: @bdffkierenwalker​

[vvienne]

XICHENG FIC RECS

hold my hands by Snooze (Chiruka)

Transplanting a core into a new person isn’t without repercussions. One year after the events at Guanyin Temple, Jiang Cheng found himself once again faced with the possibility of losing everything he had. Reconciling with his brother, learning to let Jin Ling go, and dealing with his blooming emotions toward the First Jade of Gusu — will Jiang Cheng accomplish what he wants before time runs out?

it all passes someday by screamlet

A week before the anniversary of Wei Wuxian’s death, there was a commotion outside Lan Wangji’s house.

*

Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji over the years.

The Unlikely Expression of Love by manamune

When everything has settled, when everyone else has moved on with their lives and their friends, Jiang Cheng has a realization which shouldn’t actually be a surprise:

He’s lonely.

Indigo, lavender, and violet (I don't wanna be red) by ohwhatevrewhatevr

It, in the pale colors of the late morning, is the closest to perfect Jiang Cheng will ever reach. He strokes Lan XiChen's hair and presses a light kiss to where his ribbon and hair meet. The sky is a pale blue, and the pastels of flowers and clouds are spread out through the window, a brilliant world waiting for them, them in the gentian house, safe from stronger breezes - there is the clutter of birds fluttering and chirping outside. It is a warm, perfect, spring morning.

Jiang Cheng and Lan XiChen have been together for an year. In which, no one ever really gets over things, Jiang Cheng has the misfortune of interacting with his brother, the juniors help out with the proposal, and there's a marriage.

Altitude by starknjarvis 

When Jin Ling lures Jiang Cheng to the Cloud Recesses under false pretenses, he finds himself out of place among this new family Wei Wuxian has formed.

Lan Xichen, at least, seems pleased to have his company.

Perhaps there is still a chance for Jiang Cheng to make amends and move forward.

[Modao Zushi Online] GLITCH REPORT: My Brother Got Chased Down And %$@*$&@ By Gusu Dungeon Boss??? by oh_fudgecakes

Modao Zushi Online is a virtual reality MMORPG. Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian are top ranking players in its new server, currently tied with their arch-nemesis from their previous server, Wen Chao. In an attempt to defeat him, they take on the Gusu Dungeon Boss, Zewu-jun, to win the reward of a legendary weapon. Ever the cheat, Wei Wuxian tries to take advantage of a glitch to defeat the seemingly undefeatable boss. It backfires. Jiang Cheng gets fucked by a boss monster.

He can't get enough.

Meanwhile, Lan Xichen, the unwitting staff member in charge of controlling Zewu-jun, absolutely did not sign up to be pulled into a secret virtual reality fling with a player. Mod Ji, who has to deal with Wei Wuxian's incessant glitch reporting of his brother's sex life, is long-suffering.

Mulberry by xxdz

Jiang Cheng grits his teeth and pushes harder. He feels like torn silk, the embroidery needle sinking in again and again and again; patiently, desperately, endlessly trying to make something beautiful out of something broken.

Jiang Cheng builds his sect, learns embroidery, and raises his nephew.

we can raise a little family by lanyon

“Well, brother,” says Wei Wuxian, leaning against the outside of Jiang Cheng’s chambers. “I had heard that you and Xichen went on a night hunt and came back with a baby, which is not the order I’d choose to do things in…”

In which Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen acquire a baby of unknown origin, and are the very last to know what it means.

Beyond the Impossible by Silverine

Summoned by Lan Qiren, Jiang Wanyin goes to the Cloud Recesses to drop his nephew Jin Ling, expecting to discuss relevant matters with his old master. Instead, he's asked to take with him no other than Sect Leader Lan himself, all the way back to Lotus Pier. If the reason why he accepted such an outrageous task is indeed a mystery, he's about to be surprised by how this entire trip, their encounters, and his warm company, suddenly feel fated.

Incrementally by xxdz

Jiang Cheng is trapped in a day on repeat where he begins by waking in Zewu Jun’s bed at dawn and ends by dying painfully at dusk.

It’s getting very irritating, and he has the sneaking suspicion that his chances to solve his own murder are rapidly running out. Soon, his death will be much more permanent.

All in all, worst birthday ever.

Audience of One by WinterDreams

“Then let an established star go first,” Lan Xichen interrupts again before Lan Wangji can give a stubborn reply. Both men twist toward Lan Xichen, and he smiles at Wei Wuxian’s tilted head. “If I publicly date a man for awhile first, your engagement shouldn’t receive as much backlash.”

Or, that AU where everyone is famous in some way or another, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji have been dating in private for years, and Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng pretend to date publicly for their brothers' sake.

A Bit of Ruthlessness by jirluvien

When Jiang Cheng hears that Lan Xichen went into seclusion following Jin Guangyao’s death, it’s almost as if he can see the grabby hands of a restless ghost, reaching out for something to keep him company. For something warm and living and devastated. And as history has proved time and time again, the Lans are perfect victims when it comes to giving in to ghosts.Yeah, no. Not on Jiang Cheng’s fucking watch.A story about grief, determination, unexpected friendships, abandoned watchtowers, and letters. So many letters.

All Tied Up In You by Clearpearls

Yet again, the night had come to this:

Jiang Cheng on the floor, kneeling, Zidian wrapped around his wrists.

Alone.

Thank You, and I'm Sorry by Hamliet

Jin GuangYao might be dead, but his story is not. Taking advantage of the chaos he instigated, someone makes an attempt on the life of the young new leader of the Jin Sect. When Jiang Cheng takes Jin Ling to the Cloud Recesses to have him study while he attempts to work with Wei WuXian and his husband Lan WangJi to eliminate the threat, he encounters a mourning Lan XiChen, lovestruck teenagers, and a persistent corpse--and both pairs of brothers find themselves struggling to move on.

saturn's rings (don't be a heartbreaker) by iskendaris

Set after the seige of burial mounds, Yunmeng rebuilds as they hold the first Discussion Conference at Lotus Pier. Sometimes the night is a gift, a refuge for loneliness. "So stern, Sect Leader Jiang," Lan Xichen murmured, "So glacial... What will it take to melt that icy exterior? What can I say?"

"Nothing. There's nothing you can say or offer."

reciprocity by jukeboxhound

There’s a pause before Lan Xichen says, in a tone that’s a little more neutral, “I would like to paint on you.”

“…What?”

“Of course, if you say ‘yes’ but then change your mind at any point, for any reason, you need only say so and I will stop immediately,” he adds.

Well, silver lining: Jiang Cheng is feeling much more awake than he was a moment ago.

Talent Hunt Crew Finds Angry Guy Shouting On College Campus, Recruits Him For Vocal Projection Abilities by oh_fudgecakes

Jiang Cheng, resident Angry Guy and heir to a conglomerate empire, has never been the apple of his father’s eye. Quashed under the shadow of his brilliant brother, the music prodigy Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng sees his chance to turn things around when he is recruited by the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt. One problem: he can’t sing to save his goddamn life.

As he struggles to develop his nascent singing abilities, Jiang Cheng finds himself sucked into the whirlwind drama of reality TV, helped along by his adoring siblings, his irritable vocal coach Wen Qing, and strangely enough, the unfairly attractive host of the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt, Lan Xichen. Somewhere in the glare of the stage lights and an unexpected first love, Jiang Cheng stumbles upon the thing he was searching for all along: the courage to dream — and to attempt the impossible.

Marginal Costs by ohwhatevrewhatevr

“You think you know what you want, Er-Ge,” A-Yao says. “But you should consider what you’re willing to give first,” he says wryly, taking Lan XiChen’s chess piece with slim, skilled fingers.

Lan XiChen looks up at A-Yao’s concentrated expression and the hint of contentment on his face that he is special enough to be allowed to see.

“It’s not just one decision, but the lead up to many more. One decision decides what else you’re going to have to pay, and each time you have to ask yourself, ignoring the sunk costs, if this time it’s worth it as well.”

When his sworn brother looks up at him with those clear, amber eyes, waiting, Lan XiChen feels the pull and gives in: he asks.

“Are you happy being in love?”

(First half is two sad sworn brothers talking, internally mourning how unfortunate their other sworn brother’s death was :/ and second half is when a mopey boy in blue meets an angsty boy in purple whilst chasing a demonic cultivator, and a lil bit of sexy dual cultivation happens.)

Somewhat Tender by theherocomplex

There is no defense against kindness; it has always undone him.

I didn't expect you to be lonely (too) by bettydice (BettyKnight)

Jiang Cheng's life is a mess, he's a mess, and he doesn't miss his brother at all. So when his sister gifts him ten sessions with a massage therapist, who turns out to be someone he was crushing on for a hot minute as a teenager and is still as hot as ever... yeah, that might as well happen. It won't have to mean anything.

This feels intimate to Jiang Cheng in a way that's probably very inappropriate and maybe even pathetic. Nobody touches him like this, right where he’s hurt the most. There's no one who handles him so gently, so carefully.

It's the gentleness that's his undoing, he thinks. He would be able to deal better with it if it was painful.

Life for Rent by yodasyoyo

“Yeah well. You’re not taking me seriously. This guy is my soulmate!”

“Soulmate.” Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

“Just because you don’t believe in them—”

“I believe in them!” Jiang Cheng says. “I’ve never denied they exist.”

“Just last week you said that it was an evolutionary quirk that had been used by greetings card companies, movie makers, and corporations to exploit lonely and vulnerable people.”

“And I stand by it! That doesn’t mean that soulmates aren’t real. Just incredibly unlikely and probably pointless.

-

Or:

Xicheng vs Soulmates. Fight!

Halfway Around the World by theherocomplex

Normally, Jiang Cheng would be seething, jaw clenched tight, if someone sounded like that while they were talking, but — Lan Xichen has the trick of always making you feel like you're in on the joke, whatever the joke is. That you're laughing together.

Whelmed by yodasyoyo

For months now Jiang Cheng’s been idly fantasizing about how it would be if something were to come between Wei Ying and Lan Zhan. Mostly those daydreams have been simple enough — they break up (probably because Lan Zhan is boring or Wei Ying is annoying), Wei Ying is sad for a couple of days (Jiang Cheng’s willing to allow some space for feelings, he isn't a total monster), but then Wei Ying realizes he’s better off, he gets over it, and Jiang Cheng gets his brother back.

Unfortunately the fantasy version of events has only proven partially true, so far. They've broken up. Wei Ying has been sad.

Now weeks have passed, though — and Wei Ying is still sad, every. Single. Day.

It’s like Jiang Cheng's stuck in a looping GIF, and it’s driving him insane.

Or:

Jiang Cheng plots, Lan Huan pines, and, unfortunately for Lan Qiren, Wangxian are inevitable.

[aiweirdness]

The next Disney princesses

When I saw the princess from Brave appear unexpectedly in an AI’s attempt to illustrate some misheard sea shanty lyrics (just another day on this blog), I had to look her up to remind myself her name was Merida. I ended up on the Disney Wiki entry for Merida, which got me wondering whether I could generate new Disney princesses.

I used GPT-3, a set of big text-generating neural nets trained on huge amounts of internet text. The GPT-3 models have seen wiki articles before, and there’s a LOT online about Disney princesses, so I decided to see what they could do with just two example entries adapted from the wiki, one on Merida and one on Moana.

Here’s what DaVinci, the largest of the GPT-3 models, generated. After just two short examples it had figured out how to add new entries following the general format, and even knew to generate them about Disney characters. It got many details correct! It also got many details wrong.

Model: DaVinci, temperature 1.0

Name: Snow White

Occupation: Princess of the Kingdom of Tabor

Dietary Needs: Unknown

Powers and abilities: Magic Wand (heighten sensation/emotion/physical strength/physical weakness), Animal friends: bats, squirrels, and birds. Can control them all at once.

Animal friends: Flies, Wolves, and Rabbits

Paraphernalia: Magic Wand, Bearskin cloak, Hair ribbon, fake shoe, Stolen chicken, Dew flies.

Name: Bambi

Occupation: Prince of the Forest

Paraphernalia: None

Likes:His family, The Greater Good, Being outside, Being With His Mothers Friends

Dislikes: Hunters, Caning from His Mothers Friends, deer-flies, Man's interference in nature

Name: Belle

Occupation: Nobody

Powers and abilities: None, save for her intellect and empathy

Paraphernalia: Lantern created by her father Maurice

Likes: Animals, reading, science, inventions, her father's inventions, singing, medicine

Dislikes: Vermin, Horned King, Rourke, McNab, Mr. O'Malley, Gaston, the West Wing, Halloween and those who celebrate it, Tick-Tock the Crocodile, judging people

Name: Nala

Occupation: Queen of Pride Rock, princess-in-exile (formerly), Second in command and leader of the Lion Guard

Paraphernalia: The Lullaby Scepter, Her fleet of gnu, Thorn

Likes: Singing, Taking care of the Pride Landers

Dislikes: Hyenas, disorder, corruption, Scar, feeling complacent, her hyena past

But DaVinci stuck with existing Disney characters, even at the highest creativity setting. That’s technically what I asked for, since its task was to add to the end of a list of Disney characters. But it wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted new characters.

So I turned to the smallest GPT-3 model, Ada, hoping it would be confused enough to fail to come up with existing characters. It worked.

Model: Ada, temperature 1.0

Name: Watercolor Cookie

Object of the represented character's ongoing relationship: Pirate/Scientists

Occupation: princess of a village

Powers: a large amount of ink in her fingers, ability to draw lines with it, vines, chicken

Dislikes: Lots of bugs and anything with legs

Name: Rumpo

Occupation: Soldier in the Lost Bay Mercenary Guild

Powers and abilities: Master archery, Master sword fighting, Her Devil Rumpo Dagger

Dislikes: Recklessness, an extremely bad reputation, private prayers, Rabbits

Name: Banks Afloat

Occupation: Pirate chief in the Tonawanda Swamp

Personality: Combative, passionate, impervious to cruelty and aversion to insanity, does not believe in any of supernatural powers and believes in a new and dangerous Age of Men

Powers and abilities: Superhuman strength, immunity to supernatural influences, flight with a Ten-Foot Pole and built sturdy boat and canoe, omnipresence: taking on the form of anyone, able to fly if called upon by renown indestructible courage skill at coup de grace, supernatural invisibility, unlimited memory and recall, and a super-strength equivalent to that of a God, and replenishing drinks at whim, and magic flutes.

Likes: Her wild and free lifestyle, hiking, canoeing, boating, food, sea shells, her family, magic, pirates, the Bahamas, cookies

Dislikes: Being tied down to a chartered vessel to ensure justice for stealing her crewman's land, her family's dangerous past, pirates

Some of these princesses seem a bit overpowered, but to know for sure, I’d have to see the villains.

I only had room for some of the princess profiles here, since they’re quite long, but I also experimented with the other two GPT-3 models. Become an AI Weirdness supporter to read the rest as bonus content! Or become a free subscriber to get new AI Weirdness posts in your inbox.

[spicy-dunkaroo]

Stuck by Your Side (Part 1)

♫Now Playing: “Stuck by Your Side (Part 1)” by Spicy Dunkaroo…♪

❀Word Count: 2.5k

❀Rating: PG 13, 18+, Minors Do Not Interact (please)

❀Genre: Mythology AU!, Kelpie! Tamaki Amajiki, a pinch of Angst, very Fluffy, Maybe Smut (Still not sure yet)

❀Summary: Due to your job, you’re forced to visit a beautiful city in Scotland in order to get some reconnaissance on the locals. While on this trip, you grab a drink with a coworker and return home where you begin to notice strange things happen.

❀Warning(s): Cursing, Mentions of Alcohol use (Characters are aged up), and Mentions of Depression

❀Author's Note: Hello everyone!! This will be my first collaboration with the BNHarem server (Of hopefully many more). I hope that if you enjoy this story that you also go ahead and check out the other talented artists/writers that participated in this server collab here. I am beyond grateful to be working with so many amazing writers and artists that have helped me and inspired me to start writing!! I would also like to ask that if there are any warnings I might have missed, please do let me know. The last thing I want to do is have anyone read my story and get triggered because I didn’t properly put the warnings here.

Without further adieu, I hope you enjoy :)

☟❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀☟

Birds singing, leaves crunching, and the wind singing in your ears was all you could hear as the tour guide went on with their one-sided conversation of tour around Inverness, Scotland. If it weren’t for your worrisome supervisor, you’d be in the cute little cottage that you rented for the next few weeks, probably playing on your switch or watching Tigtog videos for hours on end. But noooo, they mandated that everyone had to go on this hour-long tour of the city to “get a nice perspective of the city” or whatever the hell they were rambling on about.

Each person was assigned a partner for the tours so they didn’t have to worry about anyone getting abducted or ‘lost’. Knowing better, you visibly rolled your eyes as your partner looked around like a kid in a candy store. Apparently the woman was from the marketing department as well, her name seeming to leave your memory as you squinted in her direction.

“You forgot my name again, didn’t you?”

“Pfft- no- no way!”

“Yea? Then what is it?”

“Uh, erm...It- it starts with a H, I know that!!”

“It’s Hoshi, or if you’d like to continue with formalities, Ms. Tenmei.”

Hanging your head in shame you look away. Getting lost in your thoughts once more, Hoshi taps on your shoulder.

“Hey, no worries! I’m pretty bad with names myself. How’s camera duty going?”

Saying this, the woman grabs the camera from your grasp, turning it back on to see the pictures you had taken thus far. Whistling, Hoshi looks back at you, noticing the lack of enthusiasm that was painted across your face.

“I know this tour is the last thing either of us want to do, but the quicker you get all those pictures for the portfolio, the quicker we can get out of here and grab a drink. It’ll be my treat if you can get all of them before the end of the tour.”

Nodding your head, you grab the camera back from her, beginning to focus it on a nice view of the lake from the bridge the two of you were standing on. Before you can snap the shot, the tour-guide’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts as he begins to speak about a more interesting topic.

“It’s said that this lake has a kelpie spirit living within its waters. Although, that can be said about any lake that’s big enough to swim in.”

As most tourists begin to talk amongst themselves, you grip onto the expensive camera once more, hoping to find that perfect shot you had before the man’s shrilling voice had interrupted your train of thought.

“Mommy, what’s a kelpie?”

As the little boy spoke, you took the chance to snap the shot as a bird flew on the lake's surface, leaving a black blur on the perfect shot!

‘You’ve got to be kidding me!’

The tour guide you grew to despise butted into the pair’s conversation to answer the boys question.

“That’s a good question kiddo! It’s said that the origins of the Kelpie were originally told as warnings to women and children alike to be alert at all times when not around their loved ones. Despite this, you can ask any local in the area and most could tell you their story of encountering the supposed myth. I suppose we’ll never know till we see one for ourselves. Though, if you’re unlucky enough to encounter such a myth, there’s the chance that you won’t live to tell the tale...”

The boy trembled as he gripped his mother’s dress tighter in his clutch. Your partner begins to scoot closer to you as she whispers into your ear.

“Psst! Hey, what do you think about those ‘kelpie’ hm?”

“It sounds like some sort of folk-lore they tell all the tourists here.”

“Oh c’mon now, you’re no fun! I’d like to think they might not be as brutal as this guy says.”

Scoffing, you shake your partner’s hand from your shoulder as you look into the camera’s lens once more to take another picture.

‘I’m sure it’s all bullshit. There’s no such thing as a shape-shifting kel-‘

Thinking this, you suddenly feel your body begin to fall forward as the bridge railing suddenly let out from beneath you. Before you realize it, you open your eyes to see the water's surface only a mere foot or two from your own face, the camera hanging by your neck and grazing the lake, your body beginning to be pulled back to its upright position.

Turning around to thank whoever it was that just saved you from having to pay for the company camera, you look to see nobody behind you. Nobody seemed to even be around you as you see Hoshi following behind the group of tourists, leaving you in the dust. You begin to chase after the group as you shake off the entire encounter.

Shuffling your bag off of your shoulder you threw it into the nearby chair, slumping into the couch that was adjacent to the chair. You began to hum to yourself as you felt the effects of the beer contest you had with Hoshi who you now knew was your supervisor. Thinking to yourself you remember losing that contest the two of you set up.

‘It was nice of her to pay for us and to bring me back home even though I lost. I should thank her tomorrow and try to pay her back if I can.’

Suddenly feeling the effects of the liquid courage, you stood up a bit too quickly, reaching your hand out to the couch you were just laying on. Not sure what to do, you reached for your phone to scroll through Tigtog, that was until you began to hear something strange. From what you could tell, it sounded like a voice, though you weren’t sure if it was male or female. Curiosity began to take the lead as you stood upright once more. Looking around, you began to walk around the cottage, seeing if there was anything on that could be making that noise. Eventually you found yourself outside in what looked to be the backyard of your little cottage, swaying side to side as you tried to listen for the voice once more.

“Y/N? Are- are you there?”

Under normal circumstances, after hearing an unknown males voice you’d already be locking the backdoor behind you after racing to that door. Tonight, however, was not the case as you yelled back the best you could of a response.

“yYeaa! Wwwhooo- whoo arre yOU?”

After saying this, you suddenly began to burp, probably due to the alcohol. Despite everything you had experienced thus far, for some reason your fit of burps could not be funner to you at that very moment as the voice spoke once more.

“T-That’s not important r-right now. I just wanted to make sure you made it back home safe.”

The liquid courage that coursed through your veins decided that you wanted to find out more about this stranger and began to walk into the forest. You began to sway as you attempted to find them, calling out to them in hopes of convincing them to stay and hang out.

“OoooOh c’mON now!! Don’t be liiiike that! Wh-wherrrreeee are ya? Le-le-let’s hanggg ouT for a bit! I-I *hic* think there’s cards in the liv-livingg roooom~! We- we can play a gggame of poKER and- and see what’s in the fridge. Man, now I’m hungryyy!”

Despite your lack of sobriety at the moment, you began to hear a few leaves crunch nearby. It appeared that for some reason or another, what you lacked in logic you seemed to gain in your basic senses. This theory proved true as you sniffed the air, you noticed that there was a lake nearby.

‘Since when the hell did I know what a river smelled like?’

Before you can continue on with your train of thought, the stranger responds once more. They seemed a bit panicked as you heard a twig snap, followed by more leaves crunching beneath their feet you suspected.

“D-D-Don’t come any closer! Y-You should go back h-home, you’re not t-thinking rationally.”

Not wanting to take no for an answer, you continue to walk to the source of the sound, hearing what sounded like a cascading river growing louder. Looking through the trees, you noticed a few yards away the river you had just heard. You speak up once more as you begin to walk toward the river.

“I-I don’t want to be alone r-right now… It-it’s stupid I know, I just...I’d just like to talk, just for a little bit. Would that be okay?”

Your vision began to blur as you rushed to the river's edge. It didn’t matter now if the stranger responded or not, your world began to crash down around you as you looked at the reflection on the water's edge. Sitting on your knees, small whimpers escaped your lips out as you covered your face with your hands. Despite the literal lack of sight, your emotions consumed you as it felt that everything around you was losing the light that once shone in your hopeful eyes.

At this point, you couldn’t hear any signs of life as you gripped harder at your face, only the sound of your quiet cries for help being all that echoed through that hollow forest. Assuming the worst, you began to move your hands from your face, dropping them by your side once more as you looked at your reflection once again.

“Y-You said you wanted to talk? T-That’d be fine, just- just promise you won’t cry anymore?”

There's a beat of silence, it seemed that not even the wind could speak as your body froze. Sure, you could convince yourself that you were just hearing things, that you were just acting aloof because you were feeling lonely. If you could get yourself on the couch, you could wake up and even tell yourself that the whole experience was just a really surreal dream you had. What you couldn’t convince yourself was the half naked man that appeared to be standing a few feet behind you, his voice matching his lips as you watched them move.

‘Maybe- maybe I’m just seeing things? That-that has to be right, right?! But alcohol doesn’t cause hallucinations and I’m positive that none of my drinks were spiked. So- so...Who the hell is this!?!’

“Are- are you okay Y/N?”

Your body grew stiff as you heard your name roll off of his tongue. If you weren’t getting clearheaded before, you definitely were cold sober now. Those shy indigo eyes that seemed to stare back at your own off of the river's surface as they brought you back to your senses.

‘There is a strange, half-naked man, who somehow knows you by your name, staring at you- talking to you! He doesn’t seem very intimidating, but then again he is a stranger!! In the best case scenario, he could just be a nice guy who found someone in need. Worst case, he’s a psycho that found their next victim! I can’t keep my back turned like this, I have to do something and get the hell out of this!’

Taking a shallow breath in, you swiftly turn your entire body around, facing the stranger that now made your body shiver in fear as you looked up at him. Despite the appearance of the situation, the man seemed to be intimidated by you as he looked away.

‘He doesn’t really seem like he wants to hurt me. If anything, he’s scared of me? Maybe I can intimidate him to leave me alone? Though, I don’t think I could pull it off seeing as I’m still a bit drunk…’

“Y-Y/N?”

Looking back at the man, you notice he begins to reach his hand out toward you, slowly beginning to walk toward your crouched form. Worried for the worst, you scoot away as you respond.

“H-HEY!! D-Don’t come any c-closer! If-If you don’t I-I’ll- ACK!”

Speaking this, you only now notice that there didn’t seem to be any more ground beneath you as you felt your body begin to fall into the river.

“Y/N!”

Before you can process everything that’s happening, you close your eyes in anticipation for the cold water that was bound to drown you. The stranger grabs your wrist, holding your body up above the river, your body mere inches from being submerged in the cold water. Noticing the lack of impact, you flutter your eyes open as you look back at the man before you. Shocked, the man looks down at where he grabbed your wrists. Only now do you notice a purple hue that surrounded both your arms.

“What- what is this?!”

At a loss for words, the man can only look back between your face and where he held your wrist. Confused and scared, you rip your arm from his grip as you stand yourself back up. As you stare at the man, you look around, befuddled by whatever the hell had just happened.

While a part of you would love to ask what just happened, the more logical side of you knew that none of this was worth hanging around to find out. Dusting yourself off, the man speaks up once more as he looks away in what seemed to be guilt.

“Y-Y/N, I-I’m so so-sorry!! I-I didn’t mean to t-touch you- What have I done?!”

Not wanting to wait any longer, you began to shuffle around the man, holding your hands up in surrender as you attempted to empathize with the man. Although, you weren’t sure why he was so worried since he didn’t seem to do anything besides whatever that purple glow was moments before.

“Hey, hey! We don’t have to speak about any of this. I’ll go back and after that we won’t have to ever see each other ever again, okay?”

“Y/N, i-it’s not that simpl- h-Hey, WAIT!!”

Before he had a chance to explain, you sprinted back to your cute rental cottage that you were now wishing you never left. Looking back, you notice the man just stood there as you were almost home.

Suddenly, your body stopped moving. What was even stranger, your body seemed to freeze mid-sprint. Looking around, you noticed that somehow your head was able to move but your arms were stiff as you attempted to force your body to run once more. Just as you were about to give up, your legs moved once more, wobbling as they felt gravity work once more. Not taking any chances, you began to dash once more. Not a second later, your body rolled forward from some sort of large and heavy impact. After your body finished rolling forward, you noticed that you were sitting in the backyard of the cottage, the man sitting on his head as his body laid against the door.

“W-Who or-or What are you?”

The man sighs as he flutters his eyes open, rubbing his head as he looks up at you.

“M-My name’s T-Tamaki Amajiki, and- and I’m a kelpie…”

~End of Part 1~

[ginkgomoon]

Gavin and MC’s High School History- Detailed Timeline

Dedicated to my amazing and kind friend @cheri-cheri- one of the Queens of the MLQC fandom on Tumblr! I literally didn’t know how to use it before but I had learnt how in order to keep up with her posts. Without her work, I literally wouldn’t be on here making my own blog either. Thank you, Cheri!!

This is a timeline following the years of high school that MC and Gavin had together. Compiled of dates, rumours and secrets, calls, texts, and other from multiple servers. The source will be shown allocated to its corresponding sentence. I created this because I was really moved when I rewatched Gavin’s Old Days Date and suddenly thought of the many things other players could have missed out on regarding their high school years. If there is anything you need clarification on, or if you would like to add anything in, feel free to send a post/ask or just comment and I’ll try to incorporate and adjust accordingly! 

Based off of true correspondence of the Chinese education system in Shanghai, where the schools there are very strict, with specific responsibilities and events students must have and attend to. In addition, this is different from Western school systems where years 7-9 are in a seperate schools from years 10-12 before university. Dates and seasons mentioned will also be noted as accurately as possible to suit the Loveland storyline in which different events occurred. I felt like a detective trying to piece a fractured storyline together to solve a mystery, honestly...

Prepare your tissues, your milk tea and your soul because even I almost didn’t make it to publish this...

Timeline

2008

Gavin enters high school.

2009

MC and Minor enter high school. MC does her hair in a nice ponytail, one of the only hairstyles she ever had in school.

Gavin is a grade above her. He is in his last year of high school. [Spring Festival Date]

Late Autumn of October 2010

“I noticed who you were before you ever noticed me.” 

On a rainy first day of school, Gavin helps Mr Keller move the tables and chairs in the classroom. 

Without taking an umbrella, Gavin leaves. 

At the same time, MC saves a cat in the rain with her handkerchief, attempting to shield it from the incoming rain under a roof. She gives it snacks from her bag while sheltering it from the rain. 

Gavin thinks she was nerdy-looking, but couldn't take his eyes off her and watches her from a distance for a long time. He feels out of place standing.

She looks back at him in astonishment, not knowing how long he stood for. 

She smiles at Gavin.

Gavin notes that MC’s smile just like her eyes, were pure and comforting as they start filling his vision. 

The rain starts to get heavier and MC shivers. 

Something stirred in Gavin’s heart as he notices this, and kicks a can in frustration then shelters her with his jacket. 

He runs away as MC shouts, “thank you!” 

She didn’t know it was Gavin who gave her his jacket at the time.

MC goes back and is then told by her fellow classmates that the boy she encountered was the “tyrant school bully”,  and “the Underworld Senior Gavin”, and that she should stay away from him. [Tilted Time- Rumours and Secrets]

-

MC finds piano dull to play the same songs over and over again.

MC in her spare time practices and sings to Liszt’s Liebestraum No. 3 (Love Dream) for a talent show.

At the rooftop, Gavin is wounded by a gangster’s knife. A gradually intensifying melody is heard. 

Gavin kicks the gangster boss but then is pursued again. Outnumbered, wounded and losing consciousness due to major blood loss, the gangster boss kicks Gavin off the roof. 

Gavin reaches out, to something- anything. 

A heavy, surging melody sounded, transcending through time and allows Gavin to reflect on his past- to his father, to his late mother, and invokes deep reflection and epiphanies. 

Heavy notes seep into Gavin’s ears as he almost hits rock bottom. He feels his limbs emerging with the wind and awakens his wind evol. 

Gavin is now reborn.

The music continued to play. Gavin ends up humming with a bird. 

He then hears MC’s singing.

MC stops, mesmerised by the ginkgo leaves flying through the wind. The ginkgo leaves falling was her favourite time of the year in high school. This vivid sight is still engraved in her memory after many years.

Gavin vows to protect her for the rest of his life. [Campus Date]

-

Gavin saved Minor from bullies. 

Minor also happens to be MC’s outgoing, talkative desk mate who sometimes helped old ladies cross the street. How he managed to hang around Gavin and not get beaten up, nobody knew (except us). He would often copy MC’s homework but never dragged her down with him if he got caught. This was MC’s biggest impression of him. 

During science class, MC cooked noodles for Minor on the Bunsen burner when he was hungry. The recipe was Shrimp flavoured instant noodles, mix two eggs in well, then add a dab of sea salt and black pepper. [S1 Chapter 7-1]

-

Gavin is always at the school gates at 7:30am. Carrying his flat school bag, he orders fish balls at the snack kiosk on the north side of the school. It was the third day in a row that Minor notices this. [Minor’s Memory Book]

Gavin would occasionally travel around on his bicycle. (Pre-debut Sparky??) He says he was good at riding it. [Lost Love Date]

It was hard to find Gavin as he’s rarely at school, so she didn’t see him until 3 days later when MC went to the library at sunset. 

She tries to retrieve “Byron’s Poetry Collection” from the top of a 2-metre shelf, and since Gavin was a head taller, he was able to help her get it. 

He musters up the introduction that he recited many times- but MC quickly thanks him and leaves before he could speak.

Minor notices Gavin watching after MC and that he was SMIL-ING. 

He helps him locate MC and reports that every day after school she would go to the library for afternoon revision, always sitting in the same seat. 

Gavin sat at a corner not far, quietly flipping through textbooks he hated. People who were reading in the library would be driven away because they were scared of him LOL

MC would then leave at 5pm sharp to go back home. 

Gavin commits to walking back 10 metres behind her with Minor every day on forward. [CN Tilted Time Rumours and Secrets] 

-

Gavin saves Minor from bullies again. Minor dedicates himself to be his “bro”. 

He finds out that MC is an honours student, but doesn’t know that she’s the school orchestra leader. [Mystery Wings Event] and [Mark Date] However, he does know that she’s renowned as the “campus belle/ school flower”.

Minor idly mentions that more people were giving MC love letters.

Gavin tells Minor to collect all the people who were planning to confess their love to MC. Minor doesn’t want to be wingman anymore HAHA

Gavin stared those boys down as they trembled with fear. He tells them to take them back and if they scare her, he’ll make them regret it. 

Minor realises Gavin’s feelings for MC. [Minor’s Memory Book] 

-

MC eats from a small stall outside the school gate selling red bean puffs. ($3 for one, $5 for two. What a deal!) 

She also encounters the stall that sells sugar figurines [Gift of Life- Sugar Figurine Call]

MC ate chocolate sticks often at school. It's also a memory of student life for Gavin, as well. [CN 2021 March Sign-In Taste of Happiness]

Students would scramble for the small swing set in the school garden. MC never went at lunch breaks, but she watches the sunset on it after school. Gavin is sometimes nearby. MC never noticed him, but she does however notice the ginkgo leaves dancing in the wind. [Mini House Small Happening- Leisure Time]

-

Gavin isn’t his usual self anymore. He sees MC out in the library everyday and starts reading “5 Years of College Examinations and 3 Years of Sample Questions” (book for colleague entrance examinations).

MC watches a basketball match at school. She calls someone from an away team “dashing” because they won with a dunk. This has been engraved in Gavin’s memory ever since. [Dreamers Date]

Gavin found out that he was very fond of basketball success stories, rushing into the court to try hundreds of shots after. He writes “I will beat you” beside Sakuragi Hanamichi from a Slam Dunk poster alongside “not a step back”.

(Slam Dunk starts out with a boy wanting to play basketball to impress his crush.)

Gavin then injures his head badly :(

He realises that basketball couldn’t help him to protect anything he wanted. He determines that he will do whatever it takes (to “beat” himself”). [Mystery Wings Event]

-

Gavin leans against a tree as he watches MC hurry down the corridor as she clutches a textbook. [Boundary Rumours and Secrets]

MC would eat pocky. Gavin would eat them too. [2021 March Sign-In Moments]

- 

MC faints during a sports meet because she didn’t eat breakfast.

Gavin hurries to carry her to the infirmary. [CN Delightful Search Date]

He leaves bread and milk before she wakes up.

-

MC is on duty during PE class, which happens to be on basketball. 

Minor was careless about his aim and the ball almost hit her in the head. Gavin slams the ball away. [Minor’s Memory Book]

Gavin glares at Minor as MC thanks him.

Minor also “accidentally” pushes MC towards him.

Gavin glares again.

Gavin later is continuously shooting hoops. 

MC returns late at night to clean up the gym but all had been returned neatly in the basket. MC wanted to thank him but couldn’t. [CN Basketball Court Date]

-

There was a school sports competition that they attended. Gavin participated in the 10 lap race and came first by an impressive large measure. [Minor’s Memory Book]

MC participates in the sprint race, too. Gavin is worried about her performance, and if she would faint again. 

Gavin requests Minor to take a photo of her on his phone (which probably ended up as the photo that he carried with him in his early days at special training where the other men teased him about hiding a photo of a girl.) 

Approaching the End of October 

Gavin, Minor and MC are walking home. 

The weather is cold, and Gavin notices MC shivering in the distance. Gavin, conflicted by this, tells Minor to buy MC a hot drink without telling her that it was from him. [CN Tilted Time Rumours and Secrets] 

MC would occasionally spot a hot drink or a carton of strawberry milk in the piano room. [Chapter 31-12]

-

Gavin one day is conflicted by their early exchange, recalling how MC looks startled at the entrance of the library after seeing each other. His spirit depletes, kicking himself (metaphorically) in the corner of the classroom at how he might have scared her. 

Minor rushes in with a pink bandaid from MC for the wound at his mouth. 

He carefully took that bandaid, treating it as if it was his world’s most precious treasure.

This pink bandaid was always taped on his heart and whenever he stepped into the swamp-like darkness of the night, it gave off a faint warmth. [Mystery Wings Event]

-

MC starts to notice Gavin everywhere. At the corners of windows, she would see his figure. At the library, he would help her retrieve books from higher places. She would also see books laid out on his table, but most of the time he would be sleeping. Beneath his overlapping arms, he sees “Byron’s Poetry Collection”. Gavin doesn’t understand the poems, though. 

Lord Byron's "Don Juan" - Canto the Ninth, XVI 

"To be, or not to be?" — Ere I decide I should be glad to know that which is being? 'Tis true — we speculate both far and wide, And deem, because we see, we are all-seeing; For my part, I'll enlist on neither side Until I see both sides for once agreeing; For me, I sometimes think that Life is Death,

-

At the music rehearsal room on the fifth floor, she would see a corner of his shirt in the wind. 

MC thinks Gavin is friendly and slowly lets down her guard. 

At the canteen, he would offer her the last bottle of water. 

She begins smiling at him when they see each other, with the small arcs forming on her lips, soon becoming smiles that made her eyes squint.

-

MC would walk along the Senior hallways and subconsciously stop at a certain classroom- catching the sight of Gavin sleeping. On one particular day, she sees him standing by the window, staring at the sky. 

-

Minor asks Gavin if he could form a band with him. Gavin rejects him. He then asks Gavin if he wanted to join the school’s singing competition. Gavin rejects him again, saying that he didn’t perform for unimportant people or have others tell him how well he could play.

MC plays “Falling Slowly” on the piano. Gavin hearing this, learns to play the guitar. He doesn’t know the name of the song but familiarises himself with the melody. [CN Music and the Past Call]

-

Whenever school let students out early, she would go to Lynn’s Kitchen. MC gets her noodles with clear broth, chopped scallions and a half-boiled egg. Gavin usually gets his spicy noodles with garlic, cilantro, thinly sliced beef.

Gavin remembers her favourite order. 

MC leaves a post-it note at Lynn’s Kitchen, “I might never see you again and I didn’t even get to say goodbye. I miss you”, about a friend who transferred schools. 

Gavin knows she hates people who leave without saying goodbye the most.

Gavin, also in the vicinity near Lynn’s Kitchen, writes a post note.  “Until I met you.” [Mystery Box Game]

He saves Mr Noah’s son from an accident, immediately takes him to the hospital and pays for the medical fees. [Anime]

-

Gavin dismisses rumours of high school romance. 

“If you confessed on the 7th step of the stairway in the corner of the 3rd floor then it’ll succeed, or if you carved your name and another person’s name on the 6th tree in the courtyard at the back then your misunderstandings will be resolved, or if a guy gave the girl he liked the second button of his uniform on graduation day then the two of them will end up happy together.”

At lunch, he hears MC talking about the second button, and upon seeing her yearning face, he raises his head in thought, suddenly couldn’t wait for graduation. He tears off his second button. [Mystery Wings Event]

Gavin is just in love at this point.

-

Gavin sees one of the top students stealing money from a shop outside of school. The shopkeeper doesn’t believe him. 

He stops the student on his way home to hand him back the money. 

MC sees him at the alley then leaves.

Gavin spent all the money on a walkman he wanted for a very long time.

Mr Keller was the only one who believed in him. He said to him, “Since you can’t change what others think of you, you might as well just listen to your heart.” This had a great impact on Gavin. [Campus Date] 

Winter 

In the snowfall, the school allowed additional ten minutes of break time. The class next to MC’s stuffed Minor’s shirt with snowballs.

Gavin thought of helping him with a counterattack but MC had already returned a snowball to the male student who pulled the prank. 

Gavin looks at MC the whole time. [CN Recovery ASMR]

-

MC overheads girls in her class say that Gavin had bullied students for lunch money that morning. 

MC rides her bike back home after studying at the library for her finals. 

MC sees Gavin being handed an envelope full of money at Lynn’s Kitchen in an alleyway. 

She mistook it for him taking protection money. 

-

Summer of June 2011

On a humid afternoon, MC looks outside the window of the classroom in boredom. A boy in a loose-fitting school uniform ran by. She couldn’t make out his face. [S1 Chapter 7-23]

MC begins to distance herself from Gavin. She rushes out of class and goes straight home instead.

Gavin is sad. He broods by the piano room, goes to the library to brood, then stares at the place MC sits to brood some more. 

Minor wonders how he’s able to stare all afternoon at an empty space in the library but sleeps all day during class hours. [Minor’s Memory Book]

Before graduation, Gavin’s father expresses his thoughts for Gavin to join the organisation for special training. Gavin refuses, but his father uses MC to influence him to agree. 

Gavin remembers the panic and timidity in MC’s eyes when she first met him. He recalls that moment was probably the hardest to bear in his life.

Gavin in his short period of freedom writes a letter to MC. He ponders about what to say, thinking about their first encounter, and how she started to distance herself from him. But all he writes is-  

“Saturday 9am, I will be at the school library waiting for you.

-Gavin.”

-

MC attends the flag-raising ceremony and rehearses her speech. She then leaves to study for her exams. 

Meanwhile, Gavin finishes a fight with other boys from school in an alley after they talk inappropriately about MC. [Old Days Date]

Gavin, bloodied and bruised, asks Minor to make another copy of his letter. 

This is the only thing that Gavin had asked Minor to do so of course, he agreed. [Chapter 7-11]

Minor thinks the letter is a symbol of passion and fierce love due to the bloodstains and decides to keep the original. 

He writes “GAVIN” and places it on MC’s desk for her to see the next day. 

(In the Campus Date, the older MC is the one who finds him instead of Minor and treats him to his injuries. She ends up seeing the contents of the letter to find him later on.)

MC mistakes the letter as a threat and throws it away. 

That Weekend

Gavin sits for 14 hours in the library waiting for MC, scanning the library every now and then.

With a fingertip, he rubs “Byron’s Poetry Collection” and carefully sandwiches a dried and yellowed ginkgo leaf into the book. He suddenly felt a measure of self-deprecation.

He stands up, and leaves, his heart filled with regret that he didn’t give it to her personally. [CN Tilted Time Rumours and Secrets]

After Summer Break- July 

Minor never saw Gavin, and neither did MC. 

“We met often, but never passed by each other. I remember every moment I saw you in school. Time, location, weather, your expression, your clothes...

-I remember them all.”