#shes annoying as fuck and her outfit is kind of hideous which is everything a fairy should be

[miel128]

gallica

[stylesloveclub]

sunshine (part 1)

In which Harry's a dick and y/n is a virgin who cries a lot.

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Y/n wonders if she thinks too highly of herself.

She thinks she’s pretty. Not in an obnoxious, self-obsessed way! She knows she’s not a supermodel, and she definitely has a lot of days where she looks and feels totally dead – but at the end of the day, she’s not hideous. She splurges on pretty makeup products, does her hair in the mornings, spends a decent amount of time planning out cute outfits… you know, little things to make herself feel pretty!

She brushes her teeth twice a day, showers regularly, flosses. Wears pretty perfumes that smell like flowers and lip gloss that tastes like strawberries. There’s a stash of gum in her bag that she’s always chewing on, so she knows she doesn’t have bad breath; and she carries an extra deodorant in her backpack too, so you can’t tell her she’s repulsive or anything like that. 

She’s kind. She smiles at strangers and always laughs at people’s jokes (even if they aren’t funny)— holds the elevator door open and says a polite “good morning” or “hello!” with her happy, cheery voice. And even though she’s a bit shy, she tries her best to spread love and kindness in the world. It just makes her happy to make other people happy!

Plus, being nice means that everyone else is nicer to you. So even if she’s in a bad mood, she’ll fake a smile and pretend like she’s happy y/n.

But, she wonders... if she has all of these amazing qualities– if she really is as pretty and kind and wonderful as she makes herself out to be– then why hasn’t she been kissed yet?

She loves her friends, of course she does! But how is she so different from them? Why do all of her friends get asked out on dates and have amazing boyfriends while she’s still a lonely virgin who hasn’t even been kissed yet? 

It’s not like she’s this super virginal person who gets grossed out by boys! She wants to be kissed, she wants to get fucked! She’s toyed around with the idea of just downloading tinder and losing it all to some stranger in one night stand, but her romantic heart just can’t stand the thought of it. 

Yes, she’s desperate… but she’s also romantic. Love is on her mind 24/7. It’s what she thinks about before she falls asleep, what she daydreams about whenever she gets bored. She could spend hours with a romance novel, hyper fixating on the little things that most people wouldn’t blink an eye at. The way the boy’s hand cupped the girl’s jaw while they kissed, or how their fingers brushed as they walked down the street. Little things like forehead kisses and prolonged glances across a room. 

She craves it for herself, desperately aches for the affection that she reads of. She wants to rest her head on someone’s chest and listen to their heartbeat as she falls asleep, feel their fingers playing with her hair, or their lips skimming her cheek. Wants to laugh under the covers and share secrets and be vulnerable and in love. She wants it more than anything in the world! 

And yet, she hasn’t even been kissed! 

Everyone else seems to do it so easily – find a nice guy, go out on a date, and fall in love. So why is it so hard for her? Her friends tell her that she's the prettiest and sweetest girl out there, and that the right guy simply hasn’t come around yet… but y/n can’t help but think, is any of it true?

Is she even that pretty? Is she actually likable?

What’s wrong with her?

˙· .° ｡  ˚ ｡  ° . · ˚ ˙ · . ° ｡ ˚ ｡  ° . · ˙ · .° ｡ ˚ ｡ °.  · ˙ ‧̍̊  

Harry hates these stupid college parties.

They��re loud and stuffy, with way too many people crammed into one room for his liking. The alcohol is cheap, the music is annoying. The entire apartment smells like weed, and there’s not even a secluded corner for him to mope around in without some group of drunk girls completely invading his personal space. Everything about these parties sucks.

If he could, he’d leave. But he’s meant to give a ride home to his roomie Blake, and Blake’s currently hooking up with the host of this party. 

So Harry’s stuck here. Great. 

He checks his phone, and it’s nearly midnight. Blake should be done soon, right? The blonde girl who’s been talking to him for the past 20 minutes is getting awfully close, her hand trailing on his biceps and migrating towards his chest, and she’s blinking up at him with fluttery bambi eyes. 

Any other night and Harry might be into whatever this girl is hinting at, but he’s 100% sober and 100% not in the mood to hook up with a girl who’s taken one too many shots. He grabs the girl's hands and peels them off of his chest gently, muttering something about needing to use the restroom (he doesn’t even need to use the bathroom, he just needs a minute away from the pounding music). 

He sends her off in the direction of her friends, who are giggling to each other in a corner across the room and not-so-inconspicuously checking to see if their friend has managed to successfully get with Harry. He’s sure they’ve realized that he rejected her when they all glare at him. Sorry to disappoint, he thinks to himself. 

He’s nearly positive that any bathrooms in this shitty college apartment will probably be occupied, either with someone throwing up all the drinks they’ve had or with a couple hooking up. But no harm in trying anyway. 

The first door that he tries to open is locked. The second door opens up to reveal a coat closet. 

The third door however, opens up to a bedroom. 

The walls are decorated with posters and pictures, fairy lights hanging from the ceiling, and tiny pots of succulents placed all over the room… but the one thing that stands out the most is the overwhelming number of books scattered all over the room. There’s a bookshelf on each wall, cluttered with books of all colors and sizes. Stacks of books lie on the nightstand by the bed, a stray book sits on top of a dresser, and a pile of new, untouched books sits pristinely in the far right corner of the room. 

Books, books, and more books all over the room. And, a book in the hands of a girl sitting quietly in her bed, staring at Harry. 

Dressed in a hoodie and some fuzzy pj pants, the book that she’d once held up closely to her face now rests on her lap as she blinks up at this strange intruder. She sits upright, closing the book but sticking her finger between the pages so that she doesn’t lose her place. “Um… hi?” she says quietly. 

He steps into the room, and looks at her blankly. “Hi.” She blinks at him. “S’this room taken?” he asks.

“Um. Well,” she looks at him curiously. “No, I guess not.” 

“Okay, good,” he responds, quickly closing the door behind him. He sits on a spinny chair that he pulls out from under a desk and leans his head back, letting out a deep sigh of relief. 

The girl, with her finger still lodged between her book, stares at him confused. Who is this guy? 

He’s cute, and she’s mildly embarrassed that he’s come into her room when she’s looking so… sleepy. But he also seems kinda grumpy and is obviously not in the mood to talk. He’s leaning back in her chair and closing his eyes, gently rubbing his temples as if he’s meditating. 

She observes him with wide eyes. Then after a minute of silence she awkwardly picks her book back up and tries to resume reading. 

Kinda hard to do with some random guy sitting in her bedroom, though. 

In this secluded bedroom, the sound of the music has decreased dramatically. Harry’s pounding headache starts to fade away, and he feels himself start to relax for the first time since he arrived at this stupid party. He looks around the room that he so luckily stumbled into. 

The desk in front of him is, to no surprise, cluttered with more books. A laptop is plugged in in front of him, and there’s a cup full of colorful pens and markers sitting against the wall. Hanging on the wall is a string of pictures starring the same girl with different groups of people. 

He looks at the pictures hanging from the walls. Then he looks back at the girl laying in the bed. 

“S’this your room?” he asks, finally connecting the dots.

She looks up from the book again and nods. 

“Oh,” he hums, surprised. He supposes he should’ve realized it as soon as he walked in. Girl in a room full of books, reading a book. Face clean of all makeup, snuggled up in a blanket, nice and comfy as though she’s just about ready for bed. It’s a bit silly that he only made the connection once he saw her pictures up on the walls. “Why aren’t you out there partying?” 

“Um… not really my scene,” she says, closing the book and looking at Harry properly. Her nose scrunches up, “And it smells really bad in there.”

“Jesus, tell me about it,” he groans. “Could hardly breathe in there. In fact–” he says, already standing up, “d’ya mind if we open up a window? Still feels stuffy in here.” 

She shows no resistance as he slides the window open, accepting the fact that she’d be sharing her room with this stranger until the party was over. Harry sticks his head out and takes a deep breath of the cool, fresh air. Much better than the sweaty, smoky, sickly smell going on inside the apartment. 

When he turns back around, the girl has rearranged herself. She sits criss-crossed on her bed and looks up at Harry, fidgeting nervously with her lip bitten between her teeth. 

She’s kind of cute. 

Harry breaks the silence again. “I think your roommate is hooking up with my roommate right now.” 

“Oh.” She blinks. “Is your roommate Blake?” 

He nods.

“Yeah, Maddie’s been saying that she, um… you know,” she looks down at her hands as they play with a loose thread on the hem of her pants. “Wants to hook up with him or whatever.” 

He nods his head, leaning back against her wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest. As refreshing as the air is, the night time breeze is cold. 

“No offense,” he says, “But you don’t seem like you’d be friends with Maddie.” Maddie (y/n’s roommate) has jet black hair, wears heavy eyeliner and black lipstick everyday, and is at least a little bit high 90% of the time. Y/n, in comparison, has flowery bed sheets, a stuffed bunny tucked in next to her, and is hiding in her bedroom while a party being thrown in her own apartment. 

She just smiles softly. “Yeah, we met online. But she’s really nice.” 

He raises his eyebrow. “She seems like a bitch.” 

She defends her roommate immediately. “She’s not a bitch!” But then she thinks about it for a second. Maddie can definitely come off a bit… harsh at times. “Well… she’s usually really nice to me, at least.” 

That makes sense. It would be very hard to be mean to this girl, he imagines. She’s too nice. It would be like being mean to a puppy or something. 

Good thing Harry isn’t mean. He’s just… a bit of a grump. 

She taps her fingers against the cover of her book awkwardly, staring at Harry as he looks up to her ceiling and closes his eyes. He just wants to be in his bed right now. 

After a few more minutes of silence, Harry pushes himself off the wall. “I think Blake should be done,” he says, checking the time on his phone. “I’m going to leave now.” 

“Okay,” says the girl quietly. She watches as he leaves with a nod of his head, and shuts the door behind him. 

That was weird, she thinks. 

Whatever, though. She opens her book and forgets about it. 

+++

Don’t people say that drowsy driving is just as bad as drunk driving? What constitutes drowsy driving? Should y/n even be out on the road right now?

She doesn’t know. All she knows is that Maddie woke her up with a phone call at 2 AM, asking if y/n would come pick her up from Blake’s apartment cause she was too high to get back on her own and she doesn’t want to stay the night there. 

Y/n, being the sweetheart that she is, obviously wants her roommate to get back safe. So she’s in her car, at 2 AM, yawning every three seconds as she drives to the location Maddie sent her.

She texts Maddie from the car, but Maddie doesn’t respond. She calls her, then sends another text, but still no answer. After 10 minutes of no response, she goes up to the door and knocks. 

Maddie doesn’t answer. Instead, it’s Harry.

His eyebrows furrow as recognizes the girl from that party he’d been at two weeks ago. She looks just as comfortable as she did then, in a big pink hoodie and a pair of sweats. “What are you doing here?” he asks, his voice confused and his eyes doubting. Not many people come knocking at his door at 2 AM.

Unlike y/n, who looks like she just rolled out of bed and drove here (that is exactly what she did), Harry looks like he’s been up all night (he’s been playing COD). He’s not wearing a shirt and has a pair of sweats slung low on his hips, showing off a chiseled abdomen that acts as a canvas for a multitude of pretty tattoos. Y/n finds herself staring at the swallows that lie under his collarbones, the butterfly painted above his stomach, and the ferns lining a yummy pair of v-lines that point downwards… she swallows thickly and forces herself to look away. 

“Um,” she covers her mouth as she yawns, hiding her cold fingers with the sleeves of her hoodie, “Maddie needed me to drive her home.” She blinks sleepily, and can’t even bring herself to be embarrassed that she looks so dead.

“It’s 2 in the morning,” he scoffs. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

She blinks sleepily again. “I was.” 

Harry rolls his eyes. If it were him, he would not have gotten up and driven all the way over here. Someone else’s problems are not enough to get him out of bed. But, this girl… she’s too nice. 

He leaves her at the door and goes to Blake’s room, pounding on the door rudely. “Hey!” he yells, irritation evident in his tone, “your roommate’s here.” 

He hears a bit of shuffling, before Maddie stumbles out of Blake’s room, makeup askew and clothing only half on. She giggles up at Harry and apologizes playfully, but he just glares at her. Her eyes are glazed over and the whites of her eyes bloodshot, very obviously high if the way she couldn’t walk straight wasn’t enough of an indication. 

He feels bad for the stupid girl who drove all the way over here in the middle of the night because her roommate wanted to get high.

Maddie trips over her own feet and falls into y/n, who uses all of her strength to keep her roommate upright and walks her slowly down to the car. “Are you feeling okay?” Harry hears her ask quietly. He scoffs to himself.

He doesn’t get it. How the fuck has this girl not lost her shit? Her irresponsible roommate woke her up at 2 am and made her drive all the way to some stranger’s house, and yet she still manages to be so… gentle. So kind, to someone who barely even deserves it. So caring, to someone who seems to care so little. 

As y/n helps Maddie get into the car, she looks back up to the apartment and sees Harry watching them from the doorstep. They make eye contact for a few seconds, his eyebrows furrowed as he leans against the doorframe. His gaze makes her heart stutter, a chill running down her spine. He looks… upset. Almost like he’s mad at her.

It makes her frown. She wants to say something to him, apologize for ruining his night… but then Maddie sticks her head out of the car and vomits. 

Harry shakes his head and turns away. 

That girl is too nice for her own good. 

+++

“Hey.” Blake pokes his head into Harry’s room, where Harry’s busy playing a round on his computer, “Do you mind if Maddie and her friend come over?”

“Don’t care,” Harry mumbles, uninterested, not looking away from his game. 

“Sick,” he turns around to go back into his own room, but stops when Harry suddenly pauses his game and calls out to him.

“Who’s the friend?” Harry asks, turning around. 

“Y/n,” Blake answers. Harry stares at him, his brows furrowed. The name doesn’t ring a bell. “Her roommate.” 

“That quiet girl?” Harry clarifies.

“Yeah, that one.” 

Oh. So her name was y/n. 

Good to know. 

+++

It’s dark out when Harry finally turns off his game, sliding his headset off and stretching his back. He lets out a long groan as he feels his spine crack, a delicious feeling after being hunched over his controller for three hours straight. 

Standing up, he scratches at his stomach lazily, throwing his headset onto his chair. His arms feel a bit sore, having been to the gym earlier that day, and his hair is still wet from when he showered. He puts on a sweatshirt, finding his apartment too cold to be roaming around shirtless, and heads to the kitchen to find something to eat. 

He stops in his tracks when he finds y/n sitting in his living room all alone. 

She’s got a book in her hands, a thick, worn-out novel that looks older than herself. She’s sitting comfortably on their couch with her legs tucked underneath her butt, so engulfed in whatever she’s reading that she doesn’t even realize that she’s not alone anymore. 

It’s the first time he’s ever seen her outside of her sleep attire. She’s wearing a pair of loose, comfy looking corduroy pants, and a tight top that cuts off just below her ribs. Her chest rises and falls steadily, eyes skimming across the pages of her book so quickly that he wonders if she’s actually absorbing any of the words or not. She chews on her lip as she reads, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. 

When Harry finally speaks, it makes her jump in her place. “Where are Blake and Maddie?”

Her book nearly falls out of her hands as she whips her head around. When she sees it’s him, she relaxes. “Oh. Um,”  she sits upright, closing her book, “They’re in his room.”

He nods slowly, squinting his eyes. There’s no nice way to ask his next question, so he just spits it out bluntly. “Why’d you come over if you’re just sitting out here while they hook up?” 

She tucks her hair behind her ear nervously, feeling a little shy under his intimidating gaze. “Maddie was my ride to campus today. And she wanted to stop by here before we went home.” She shrugs quietly, “So I kinda had no choice.”

He huffs. Of course. 

Y/n says that Maddie’s nice, but Harry really doesn’t like her. How weird is it to drag your friend somewhere just to have them sit alone while you go hook up with someone? 

“How long have you guys been here?” he asks.

“Like, an hour.”

“So you’ve been sitting around doing nothing for an hour?”

She pouts. “I had my book.”

He blinks. She just sat here reading for an hour, while her roommate abandoned her to go hookup with Blake… and she’s okay with it? 

She is too nice for her own good. 

“Do y’want some pizza?” he asks, already opening the freezer.

Normally, y/n would say no. She’s kind of an unwelcome guest and she doesn’t want to be a burden on Harry. But… she hasn’t had anything since breakfast. And Maddie still hasn’t come out. She’s kind of starving.

“What kind?” she asks politely.

“Umm… cheese or pepperoni.” 

“I don’t like pepperoni,” she confesses shyly. “But also I could just pick it off if you want pepperoni. Whatever you want.” 

He rolls his eyes, shoving the pepperoni pizza back into the freezer. He wants to scream at her to stop being so nice! Stop being so considerate and just say what you want!

He puts it in the oven to bake, setting a timer for 15 minutes, then takes a moment to contemplate his next move. He could either go back into his room, where he could lie in bed and nap until the pizza was ready… or he could stay in here and sit awkwardly on the couch so that y/n wouldn’t be all alone. 

99% of him wants to just go back into his room where he can be grumpy and alone in peace… but then he looks over at y/n, who’s sitting on the couch all by herself. She looks so uncomfortable and out of place, tracing her thumb over the raised up font on the hardcover in her hands.

The 1% of him that feels bad for her wins. He sits down next to her on the couch. 

He nods his head towards the worn out book, which looks thicker than anything he’s ever read. “Are you reading the fuckin’ bible?” 

“No,” she shakes her head, laughing to herself quietly. She runs her fingers over the grooves of the title, a feeling so familiar that it comforts her when she’s feeling so out of place. “It’s Wuthering Heights.” 

He furrows his brow. “Never heard of it.” 

“It’s good,” she says. “Kinda dense, but I’ve already read it a few times. It’s one of my favorites.” 

He nods again, tapping his fingers on his thighs as silence overtakes the apartment once more. He looks around the living room, trying to find something else to say. 

Y/n’s heart pitter patters in her chest nervously. She can’t help but feel a bit nervous around Harry. She’s pretty shy in general, and Harry’s stoic demeanor certainly doesn’t help her relax. Her voice is quiet as she asks, “Um… what’s your major?” A feeble attempt on her end at a conversation. 

“Math.” 

“Just math?” she parrots.

“Mhm,” he cracks his knuckles. “Pure math.” 

She huffs out a quiet breath, a pout on her lips. “I’m in a math class right now.” Her fingers pick at a piece of fuzz that’s stuck on the couch. “Calc 1. It’s really hard.”

“Mm, yeah.” Harry hums, “Took that during my first year.” 

She looks at him with wide eyes, “Did you pass?” 

He holds back a smile. It’s amusing, how earnestly she’s asking him – a math major – if he passed Calculus 1. That class was generally easy for him, mostly just beginner stuff compared to the math he does now that he’s in his third year. But he doesn’t say that. “Yeah, I did,” he says simply, not wanting to make her feel bad.

She nods, looking back down at her book. “I’m kinda scared. Our first midterm was really hard.” 

He hums sympathetically. Even though it was easy for him, he knows that calc class is infamously hard for others – especially for those who aren’t math inclined like himself. “How about you? What’s your major?” 

His legs are spread apart so that he takes up nearly half the couch, whereas y/n sits curled up on the other corner, trying to take up as little space as possible. “Bio,” she readjusts herself so that she’s sitting crisscrossed, her book still clutched to her chest protectively. “With a concentration in ecology.” 

Ew. He hates biology. Actually… he hates everything except math. Math is easy for him. 

The oven beeps. A rush of relief fills his chest, finally free from this awkward conversation, and he eagerly abandons y/n on the couch to get the pizza out. He’s hungry, starving, and doesn’t bother with a plate or anything before grabbing a slice and shoving it in his mouth. 

“Come have some,” he mumbles, mouth full.

She timidly walks over to the kitchen counter that he’s standing at, wiping her sweaty hands on her pants, and takes a slice as well. Blowing on it, she takes a much smaller bite than Harry did since it’s still so hot. She doesn’t know how he managed to already finish a whole slice. 

Now that they can focus on eating their food, there’s no need for any more small talk. They eat comfortably in silence, only acknowledging each other when y/n asks for a napkin. He nods towards one of the drawers, asking her to grab him one too, and then they’re back to eating in silence. 

Blake and Maddie burst out of his room a few minutes later.

“Harry made dinner!” exclaims Blake, coming over and reaching for a slice of pizza. 

Harry yanks the tray out of his reach. “Get your own pizza,” he mumbles, putting the pizza back down in front of y/n. He looks at her, and nods his head towards the pizza, inviting her to take another slice. 

Maddie stops her before she can reach for a second slice. “Ready to go?” she asks. 

Y/n nods, wiping her hands on a napkin. “Thanks for the pizza,” she whispers to Harry, quiet enough so that only he hears. 

“Yeah,” is all he says. He barely looks at her, too busy scarfing down his third (maybe fourth) slice. 

She grabs her stuff and follows Maddie out of the boys apartment. 

+++

“Hey!” Maddie pushes her way through the stuffed apartment, reaching her hand out towards y/n. “Listen, I’m gonna go home with Blake.”

“W-What?” Y/n’s head is foggy, her brain a little clouded from the few drinks that she’s had. Y/n doesn’t normally drink, so the little bit of alcohol in her system has had its intended effect and gone a bit further as well – her cheeks are warm, and she feels the world sway a little bit as she looks up at Maddie with a pout. “But– but what about me?”

Normally, y/n stays home whenever Maddie wants to go out and party. She prefers the comfort of her own bed and hates the anxiety she feels when she’s drunk and wobbly and surrounded by a bunch of strangers. But Maddie had assured her that they’d be together all night, that she’d take care of her if she got drunk, and that she’d drive them home whenever y/n wanted to leave.

She’s broken all three of those promises. 

When they got to the party, Maddie abandoned her as soon as she saw Blake across the room. Luckily, y/n saw some of her own friends that she was able to hang out with, some girls from her ecology class who gave her a yummy strawberry smirnoff. They talked and laughed and y/n was having a good time, slowly but surely getting a little bit tipsy. The drink was so yummy, and Maddie wasn’t there to keep an eye on her, so she didn’t realize that she’d gone a bit over her tolerance. 

She’s a bit tipsier than she’d like to be in a public setting, surrounded with people she doesn’t know, and it’s too dark outside for her to get home safely on her own. And now… Maddie wants to abandon her? For Blake? 

“Don’t worry!” Maddie exclaims, completely disregarding the worry flickering in y/n’s glazed eyes. “I’ll order you an uber home!” 

Y/n bites her lip nervously. An uber? At this time of night, when she’s all drunk and stumbling around like a sad little baby deer?

“Um… can’t you take me home before you go with Blake?” 

Maddie rolls her eyes, “come on, really? I’ll pay for the uber. It'll be fine.” 

Y/n’s heart beats loudly in her chest, “I-I’m scared of going by myself, Maddie. I think I had too much to drink, I don’t feel safe.”

Her roommate purses her lips in a firm line, as if she’s annoyed. She looks around the apartment, tapping her foot impatiently, then she lights up with an idea. “Stay here,” she tells y/n. 

“Harry!” Maddie calls out, making her way back to the other side of the apartment. “Hey, Harry!” 

He’s sitting on a couch, next to a pretty girl in a tight black dress who has her legs splayed across his lap comfortably. There’s a furrow in his brow that makes him look pissed off, but his hand rests very comfortably on this girl's thigh and he makes no objections as she plays with the collar of his shirt. His head whips over to Maddie as she tramples her way over to him.

“What is it?” he snaps, voice closed off and irritated. 

“Can you drive y/n home?” 

He blinks. “Huh?” 

“Can you drive y/n home??” she says again, frustrated.

“Why?” 

“Cause I’m going over to your apartment with Blake and she needs a ride home.” 

He stares at Maddie unbelievingly, and peers over at y/n, who’s sitting all alone on the other side of the apartment. Her lips are pouted sadly, staring down at the floor with a far off look in her eyes. 

“Why can’t you take her home?” he grumbles, looking up at Maddie with a glare in his eye.

She huffs, impatiently stomping her foot. “Cause I’m going home with Blake right now! Come on Harry, it’s not that far! Please?” 

He shakes his head. “Fuckin’ unbelieveable,” he mutters under his breath, pushing the girl off of him as he stands up. 

“Thank you,” she sighs, dragging him behind her. “Y/n,” Maddie says, stopping in front of her. “Harry’s gonna drive you home.” 

She looks up, eyes wide and round. “H-Harry?”

“Yes,” she says harshly, “you guys are friends, aren’t you?”

“Um…” y/n doesn’t know what to say. She wouldn’t necessarily consider them friends just because they shared a pizza. 

Her night out with Maddie was meant to be fun, but right now, she just feels abandoned and kinda scared. And Harry doesn’t seem too happy about this either, which makes her feel even worse.

“Lets go,” he snaps, jaw clenching tightly as he swings his car keys around his index finger. She flinches at his tone and digs her nails into her palms nervously. 

She’s trapped. It’s either Harry takes her home, or she takes an uber all by herself. And she’s too scared to get home alone right now. 

With a final look towards Maddie, who stares back at her dismissively and shoos her towards Harry, she stands up shakily and follows Harry out of the crowded apartment. 

The air outside is much colder than the apartment, goosebumps immediately rising on y/n’s skin and making her shiver. Harry doesn’t acknowledge the way she stumbles over her feet, walking ahead of her briskly. She’s forced to keep herself composed, wrapping her arms around herself to keep warm and nearly jogging to keep up with Harry’s long strides. 

He unlocks his car doors and gets into the driver’s seat. Y/n opens the passenger’s side door for herself and takes a seat, buckling herself in quietly.

Turning on the car, he notices the way her arms are tightly crossed in front of her chest. He turns up the heat, and pulls out of the parking lot. 

They play no music and say nothing, driving in silence.

“Sorry you have to drive me home,” she says faintly after a few minutes. 

His turn signal blinks softly. “Can’t believe your roommate just left you,” he mutters irritatedly. 

She says nothing in response. She stares out the window, a lump in her throat as the drive past the streets of college houses and apartments. The red light they stop at and the name of the streets go blurry from the tears gathering at her waterline. She sniffles softly.

Harry whips his head to her. “Why are you crying?”

Her lower lip wobbles as the first tear falls from her lashes. She wipes it away quickly. “I don’t know,” is all she says with a watery voice.

He stares at her befuddled, brows furrowed and eyes a piercing green, but she refuses to meet his gaze. She just looks outside the window in a melancholy haze, lost in thought, eyes unfocused as tears drip down her face silently. 

He sighs deeply and taps his fingers against the steering wheel, praying for the red light to turn green so that he can get this girl home as soon as possible. 

+++

When they arrive at her place, he sits in his car and watches as she stumbles up the steps of her apartment. She mumbled out a soft thank you through her tears and managed to climb out of his car smoothly, but the way she wobbles on her feet makes Harry worry that he shouldn’t leave until he’s sure she got in.

She stands in front of her door for a solid two minutes, trying to find her keys, and Harry taps his fingers against his thigh impatiently. When she finally finds them, she struggles to fit the key in the lock, hands shaky and her vision still blurred from the tears. Aaaand then she drops them. 

Harry sighs and puts the car in park. By the time she’s picked the keys back up, Harry’s already gotten out of his car and reached the top step. He takes the keys from her and easily unlocks her door. “In,” he mutters, ushering her into her apartment impatiently. 

He follows her into her bathroom and turns the light on for her. Their eyes meet in the mirror as he asks, “can you get yourself ready for bed?”

She nods, looking down at the ground sheepishly as he leaves her to take off her makeup and brush her teeth. She opts to skip her skincare routine and doesn’t even bother with putting her jewelry back in her jewelry box, simply just leaving her earrings on her bathroom counter to deal with tomorrow. 

Harry’s probably gone back down to his car by now, she thinks. It’s so embarrassing, how he had to drive her home and guide her into her bathroom. He seemed annoyed with her. He probably thought she was so messy – an annoying, overdramatic girl who started crying in his car for no reason. 

More tears bubble in her tears as the hot wave of embarrassment washes over her. She was such a mess, of course she’s never been in a relationship. Nobody would want to date someone like her. 

She takes off her clothes and whips off her bra, sniffling to herself sadly. Slipping on her favorite sweatshirt, a huge pink one that goes down to her mid thighs and covers her hands, she uses the sleeves to wipe away the excess tears in her eyes. She stumbles over herself a bit and bangs her foot against her dresser as she reaches for a pair of sleep shorts and it only makes her want to cry even harder. Drunk y/n is extra emotional, and every little thing is sending over the edge. 

As she’s stepping into her pair of sleep shorts, her bedroom door opens, Harry walking in with a glass of water in one hand and a pill bottle in the other. She trips over herself as she tries to pull her clothes on as soon as possible, but it just makes her lose balance and stumble to the side. His eyes widen and he turns around quickly, muttering a quick fuck to himself. 

“Sorry,” he mutters. “Are you decent?”

Y/n regains her composure, cheeks burning as she pulls her shorts over her hips. This night could not be going any worse. “Yeah,” she says quietly. She hopes it’s dark enough in the room so that he doesn’t see her flaming cheeks and puffy eyes. 

He turns around and hands her the water, which she immediately starts chugging down. She didn’t realize how thirsty she’d been until she’d seen the glass in Harry’s large, tattooed hand. 

“Slow down,” he grunts. He pops open the pill bottle and takes out one Advil for her. “Take this.” 

She grabs the pill from him obediently and swallows it down with the rest of her water. Then she looks up at him, as if waiting for his next instructions. 

“Bed,” he says, nodding his head towards her daisy printed sheets. She goes to climb in but trips over her shoe that she’d messily discarded on the floor. Harry grabs her waist before she can fall to the floor though. 

“Jesus,” he murmurs. This was like the seventh time she’s almost fallen over tonight. Is she always this clumsy or was it the drinks? 

He grabs her hand and physically guides her into her bed, making sure she lays down properly and lifting the sheets for her to climb under. Grabbing her ankle, he literally has to guide her under the blanket, then lets the duvet fall over her gracefully. 

“All good?” he asks, once she’s tucked nicely into her bed, teeth brushed and medicine taken so that she wouldn’t wake up feeling gross tomorrow. 

She looks up at him, eyes no longer tear filled but still clearly sad. “Yeah..” she says quietly, however her eyes flicker around her room as if she’s searching for something. 

He furrows his brows, and glances in the direction her eyes have landed. A stuffed bunny lies on the floor next to the shoe that she tripped over. He bends over and picks it up, handing it to her questioningly. She takes the bunny and snuggles it into her neck, eyes fluttering as if she can finally relax. “Thanks,” she whispers. 

Harry nods curtly and heads for the door. When he turns around one final, y/n is watching him with sleepy eyes. “Bye, Harry,” she squeaks out. 

He stares at her for a second. “Bye.” Then he closes the door behind himself.

+++

Y/n wakes up with a pounding headache and an upset tummy.

That was mortifying. 

She’s never gonna be able to face Harry again. He was so annoyed with her, she just knows it! The way she dragged him away from that party, cried in his car, and tripped over herself like a stupid goat with clanky legs… oh, he probably thinks she’s the worst! 

She wishes she had more control over her emotions, that she could’ve held in the tears until she was alone in her bed… but she just felt so miserable last night. She had wanted to start crying literally when Maddie first yelled at her at the party, but she tried to stay strong. Kept herself together so that she at least didn’t start crying in the middle of a party.

But then… getting in the car with Harry. God. The deafening silence, the irritation radiating off of him… it made her feel terrible. She felt like a nuisance, like an annoyance and a burden. 

And she completely humiliated herself in front of Harry! The cute guy that she maybe sort of had started to have a tiny little crush on, simply because he was cute and mildly nice to her and she has a habit of romanticizing small interactions.  

There was no chance he’d ever want to be in a room with her after this. He probably wants nothing to do with her. 

She stumbles out of her bed and plants her feet on the ground, her head spinning a little bit as she squints her eyes. Her little stuffed bunny has fallen onto the floor again, and she picks it up and places it onto the bed next to herself. She remembers how Harry had picked the bunny up and given it to her before she fell asleep last night, like she was some little kid that he was stuck babysitting. 

Ugh. She’s never going to talk to him again. 

+++

Harry stands outside of his lecture hall, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed angrily. His eyebrows are furrowed in classic Grumpy Harry fashion and his lips are pursed in a disgruntled frown. 

He’s annoyed. 

He stares at y/n, who’s sitting on a bench not too far away. Her tote bag sits on the floor next to her feet and there’s a book in her hand, her finger in between the pages as a temporary bookmark to not lose the page she’s on. 

There’s something about her that just… annoys him so much. He can’t quite explain it.

The way her cheeks dimple as she smiles up at the guy talking to her, tucking her hair behind her ear gently when it falls into her face… it makes his jaw clench angrily as he watches her from a distance. She’s so nice. Too nice. 

She laughs at something the guy she’s talking to says and it makes his stomach feel sour. He doesn’t like it.

Blake’s hand snaps in front of Harry’s face. “Bro. Stop staring.” 

Harry forces his eyes to look away, brows still furrowed grumpily. “Wasn’t staring,” he mumbles, pushing himself off the wall and going into the lecture hall. 

“You were,” he responds, following closely behind. “She’s really nice… I dunno why you hate her.”

“Who says I hate her?” Harry scoffs. “I never talk to her.” Especially as of late, she’s quiet as a mouse around him. He was over at her apartment to pick Blake up the other day and she’d only said a quiet “hi” before scurrying back into her room, like a scared little bunny in the presence of a snake or something. 

“Well… I mean, you could be nicer.”

Harry furrows his brows. “What do you mean?”

Blake hesitates. “Like… I dunno. Maddie says you made her cry.” 

“Huh?” He thinks back to that night… “How was that my fault?” All he’d done was driven her home and tucked her into bed? She just started crying on her own!

“She’s just kind of sensitive,” says Blake. “I know you probably weren’t trying to mean, but you’re definitely not sunshine and rainbows. You’re scary, did y’know that?”

Harry rolls his eyes. Everyone seems to have this preconceived notion that Harry's this huge dick who never smiles… and though it’s true that he rarely smiles in the presence of strangers, he’s not an asshole! He just doesn’t feel like wasting his energy in pretending to like people he doesn’t actually like. Or smile when it’s much more comfortable to furrow his brows and pout grumpily. 

And he finds that usually his grumpy demeanor works in his favor – people stay out of his way, and he gets to avoid the headache that comes with interacting with people. But now this girl… this sunshine girl who always has her nose in a little book and always says please and thank you and is nice to everyone and stumbles over herself like a little puppy who's learning how to walk… she’s gone on and made him feel bad about it. 

How annoying is that? To have the nicest person on the planet think you’re scary?  

“I wasn’t trying to make her cry,” he mutters, irritated. “I didn’t even say anything to her.”

“Well maybe that’s the problem. Like… just try. I think you’ll like her.”

He doesn’t think so. She’s too nice. They probably wouldn’t get along. 

+++

There are three things y/n does a lot.

The first is studying. Her grades come first, always. She’ll be at the library for hours at a time, snuggled up in a booth with an iced coffee and her color coded notes, studying until she can barely keep her eyes open. It’s unhealthy, and she really should take breaks more often… but she just gets really nervous about her grades! 

She’s used to being at the top of her class, and has always been a straight A student.  But recently, she’s been struggling. She’s doing fine in her chemistry class, and absolutely thriving in biology. But calculus… calculus is her worst enemy.

The second thing she does a lot is reading. She’s been a bookworm for as long as she can remember. Her most frequent genre is romance (obviously!), but she’ll dabble a little bit in the popular fantasy series, maybe pick up a thriller every once in a while. And if she’s feeling sophisticated, she’ll try to read one of the classics… something philosophical, like Camus, or maybe something a little heavier, like War and Peace. But those situations are rare. She prefers her little world of romance.

The third thing that y/n does a lot… is cry. 

She’ll cry if she watches a sad movie, she’ll cry over a sad book. She cried when Finnick died in The Hunger Games, and she cried when she finished Of Mice and Men. She cries every single time she watches Pride and Prejudice (2005), sobs her eyes out when Mr. Darcy says, “You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love- I love- I love you.”

She cries if someone yells at her, and she cries if she thinks someone doesn’t like her. She cries almost every time she’s drunk (example: when Harry drove her home), and she cries in the middle of the night when she’s feeling homesick. She cries for no reason when she’s getting close to her period… and sometimes, she cries because she’s just lonely.

Now, you might be thinking… y/n sounds super annoying. But please don’t think that! That would also probably make her cry.

She’s just a tad bit sensitive! She has so many emotions in her little heart, and she’s trying so hard to be responsible and manage life as a young adult but at the end of the day she’s just a girl!!! She’s just a girl, and she’s tired and stressed out and lonely and touch deprived, and sometimes she has a hard time keeping everything together so she just… cries.

If she could control it, she would! Do you really think she wants to be crying in the library? Of course, not! It’s embarrassing, and she’s trying really hard to keep her sniffles quiet and to suck the tears back into her eyeballs… but when she’s sad, she can’t stop the tears.

So now she’s crying in the library. And it’s all because of Issac Newton.

Why did he have to invent calculus? Like, what was even the point? Why did she, as a girl studying ecology, have to take this stupid class?

She buries her face in her arms, the tears unstoppable at this point, and just hopes that anyone walking past will think she’s napping and not crying her eyes out. 

She’d studied really hard for that last midterm. Like– she’d literally been in the library for a week straight, just doing calculus problems over and over again. She went to office hours to get help on all the questions she was stuck on, and was watching the Organic Chemistry Tutor’s videos religiously. She did so much math that she was literally having dreams about doing calculus. 

And yet, even with all of her studying, she still managed to fail the midterm. Like… she seriously failed it. As in, if she doesn’t get an A on the final, she will literally have to retake the class.

She’s so sad. She’s never gotten a grade this low, ever in her life. And she’d tried so hard!!! The morning of the midterm, she’d actually felt confident! She thought she had it in the bag!

She was so, so wrong. 

She feels stupid – not just because she failed the midterm, but because she’s literally having a breakdown about it in the library. 

This is stupid. Everything is stupid. School is stupid, Issac Newton is stupid, calculus is stupid–

“Y/n?” 

Uh oh. She tries to wipe away her tears discreetly, licking her lips and clearing her throat and desperately hoping that it’s not obvious that she’s been crying. 

When she lifts her head, she finds Harry standing in front of her. “Why’re you crying?” he asks bluntly, looking down at her with his brows furrowed.

Ok. So it is obvious.

“Um,” she sniffles, “Hi Harry.” She hopes that maybe if she pretends like everything is fine, then he won’t pry any further. 

It doesn’t work.

“Why are you crying?” he asks again. There’s not much compassion or comfort in his voice. Same old grumpy Harry, so blank and impassive. 

She shrugs her shoulders, feeling small and embarrassed. “I– it’s silly,” she stammers, looking down at her fingers. 

Harry doesn’t say anything, staring at her and waiting for her to continue. 

She swallows thickly. “I failed my midterm,” she whispers, her voice catching as a new lump grows in her throat. 

“How bad?”

One lone tear falls down her face as she shakes her head disappointedly, which she wipes away quickly. “Really bad,” she whimpers. Her cheeks burn hot as she realizes that she can’t hold back the tears any longer. She quickly averts her eyes from him, staring into her lap and hoping that he can’t see her face.

This is the second time he’s seen her cry, which is two times more than she would like. He probably thinks she’s some silly, over emotional girl… probably thinks she’s so annoying. She just wants to curl up in a ball, hide in a dark hole and cry by herself. She can’t handle Harry’s judgment on top of her shitty midterm grade.  

He stands there silently for a moment. Her lower lip has pouted out cutely and he can hear her sniffling quietly. “Was it math?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” she grumbles sadly. Stupid math. 

He hums. After another tense moment he asks, “Do you want help?”

“Help with what?” She stares down at her fingers, her tone dejected. The happy glimmer that usually sparkles in her eye is gone. 

“With math,” he clarifies. “I can help you.”

She looks up at him curiously, still pouting. “You’d help me with math?”

He nods, pulling out the chair next to her. “Let me see your midterm,” he says, nodding his head towards the packet of math problems she’d just been sobbing over. Embarrassingly, the front page is stained with a few tears, but she hands it over nonetheless. 

He scans over the first page quickly, reading the question and seeing how she answered it. “Do you know why you got this one wrong?” 

She sniffles and shrugs. She hadn’t even tried to look over the questions, too mentally exhausted to even try and understand what mistakes she’d made. 

“Look. You tried to cancel out the tan3x, which would make sense in any other case… but since it’s to the power of 4 you could really easily have used integration by parts.”

“Wish I knew that before I took the fucking midterm,” she huffs.

“Hey,” he tsks. “Learn from your mistakes so that you don’t make them again. You need to know this stuff to do integral tests later.”

She shakes her head. “I tried so hard, Harry,” she barely whispers, her voice exhausted. “Like I studied so much, and I really really tried to make it all make sense. But it’s just so hard for me.” She sniffles and wipes away more tears, taking a shaky breath and looking away from Harry. 

She doesn’t want to try anymore. She just wants to give up.

He purses his lips, brows furrowed. There’s something about seeing y/n upset that just feels so wrong. She usually brings so much… light into a room. Seeing her cry makes it seem like the entire universe has gotten a little sadder. 

“You’ve got the right idea when you’re solving these…” he tries to comfort her (though he’s never really been good at comforting people), “It’s just little things that you’re doing wrong. And it’s probably because you’ve got a shit professor who just has you copy down problems.”

“That’s literally all we do!” she whines, not even caring if she sounds like a baby. “He does the problems so fast and then I have to go home and try and figure out how he did it all by myself!” She sniffles and puts her head in her hands, more tears dropping from her eyelashes. She’s exhausted, her head starting to hurt as she exhales a shuddery breath. 

He lets her cry a little bit. “Listen,” he says gently, turning to face her. The normal furrow in his brow is gone, his gaze a little bit softer. “Next time you come over with Maddie, bring your notes and we can go over them together, okay?”

She sniffles. “Seriously?”

“Yes.” 

“Like actually?”

“Yes,” he says again exasperatedly, rolling his eyes. He stands up from the table and puts her midterm back down in front of her. “Lighten up, sunshine. One bad score is not the end of the world.” 

She feels a bit silly now that Harry’s witnessed her having another breakdown in the library. But, despite how little he said… he actually helped her calm down. This was not the end of the world. 

“Okay,” she whispers, “thanks, Harry.” 

He nods and walks away. 

Maybe he doesn’t hate her, she thinks to herself. 

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“I’m going out,” Maddie says as she walks into the kitchen, discarding her half full coffee mug on the counter as she grabs her car keys from the hook in front of the door. 

“Your mug!” y/n tuts like a mother. Maddie rolls her eyes as she pours the last of her coffee down the sink and puts the mug in the dishwasher. Y/n ignores the dramatic eye roll, knowing that Maddie’s just playing around, and asks, “Where are you going?”

“Over to Blake’s,” she responds with a wink. She’s been telling y/n about how she’s been waiting for Blake to text her all week because she doesn’t want to be the one texting first all the time… weird situation-ship stuff that y/n’s never experienced before. Seems like he finally texted her, with how excited Maddie is to be going over. 

Just as Maddie is about to step out the door, y/n remembers Harry’s offer. He’d been serious, right? He hadn’t just said that because she was crying… right? She really hopes not, because she really could use his help. She’d been up for hours last night, trying to do the homework, but ultimately giving up because she got too frustrated with herself. Maybe… maybe he’d be able to help her?

“Wait!” y/n calls out, “Um… can I come with you?”

Maddie raises an eyebrow, “Why do you want to come over to Blake’s apartment?”

Y/n turns a bit shy, “Harry… he’s, um, helping me with math.”

“Harry?” Maddie’s eyes glimmer curiously. “He’s literally such a dick. He’s helping you?”

“He’s not that bad…” y/n mumbles, remembering the ounce of kindness he’d shown to her in the library the other day. He’s just a little bit… reserved, she’s started to realize.

“Please. He literally never smiles. I dunno how you got him to talk to you, he always ignores me when I’m over.” 

(Honestly, she doesn’t blame Harry for not talking to Maddie… she sometimes ignores Maddie in her own apartment too…)

“You have two minutes to meet me in the car or I’m leaving without you!”

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With her schoolbag in hand, y/n taps lightly on Harry’s door. Blake had told her to just go in, but she feels like that’s rude, so she stands in front of his door nervously and waits patiently for him to open. 

“What?” he grunts, opening his bedroom door. “Oh.” The furrow in his brow softens the slightest bit when he sees it’s y/n. He’d thought it was Blake bugging him about something. Y/n is a much… nicer surprise. 

“Hi,” she says, chewing on the inside of her lip nervously. “I was wondering if… um, you could help me out with my calc stuff?” 

He stares at her for a second, then says, “yeah.” 

He opens the door wider and she follows him in. His room is messy, but not gross. The bed is unmade, three half full water bottles on his nightstand, and there’s a pair of sweatpants on the floor… but at least it doesn’t stink!

His computer screen is paused mid-game, and she realizes that he’d still been holding his controller when he’d opened up the door for her. He throws a jacket that had been thrown on the back of his chair onto the bed, and motions for her to sit. Then he pulls up another chair that was sitting in the corner of his room to sit next to her. 

“Let’s see it,” he says, shutting down his computer. 

“So…” she takes her laptop out of her bag, setting it down on his desk and turning it on so that she can open up her homework assignment. While it loads, she unlocks her ipad to the scratch work she’d done last night. “I was trying to do the homework last night, and I think I’m supposed to be doing integration by parts but honestly I’m not even sure how to do that… so I’m kind of lost.” 

Harry leans over her ipad and looks at the work she’d done. It’s… wrong. 

“Can I see your notes for integration by parts?” He asks, trying to figure out how she ended up with 1 as her answer when it should be a much larger, much more complicated mix of trig and integrals. She scrolls up until she lands on a page titled Chapter 7, and points to the second example on the problem. Her notes are cute, written in pink with girlish, bubbly handwriting. However, it’s clear that she’d been struggling to keep up with the lecture, some of her work completely scribbled out and replaced with messy numbers and formulas. Next to one of the big portions of scribbled out math, she's written “WHAT???” along with a sad face doodled underneath it.

Clearly she’s a bit confused. 

“Okay…” he scrolls down to a new page in her digital notebook and copies down the example problem that had confused her. “Let me show you how you do integration by parts first, and then we’ll look at the homework problem, okay?”

“M’kay,” she hums compliantly, crossing her legs and hiding her hands in her sleeves. She feels a bit… nervous. She doesn’t want Harry to think she’s stupid. But she’d rather have her ego a little bruised than fail the next midterm too. 

“So… you do integration by parts when you can’t just do normal integration… usually if there’s e^x in there or a natural log then you know that you have to do integration by parts.” 

She nods, following along quietly. 

“In this one… you have x times e^x dx… you have to break it up into two parts, U and dV. And then you take the derivative of U and find the integral of dV. And you plug that into the formula. Do you know the formula?”

She blinks at him. “Um…” she shuffles through her notes and finds it. “It’s this.” 

“Good… so what you do is you assign x to either U or dV and then e^x(dx) to the other… and then you find dU and V based off of that. Should we make x be U or dV?”

She purses her lips, “Make x=U?”

“Yes…” he nods. “Do you know why?” 

She shrugs. “I guessed.” 

His lip quirks up in the first smile y/n’s ever seen from him, a slight dimple popping up in his cheek. “S’cos we have to either find the derivative of U, or find the integral of dV. It’s way easier to use the derivative of x, cause it’s just one. If we made x equal to dV… then we’d add a fraction and a power of two to our equation and it’ll just make things ugly.”

“Oh.” She stares at his hands as he writes down what he just said in math terms, scribbling in his boyish handwriting that U=x and dU=1. “Okay.”

“So if U=x, then dV is equal to….”

“e^x?” she answers. 

“Good,” he says gently. “And what is V?”

She stays silent for a moment, searching the paper as if it’ll give her an answer. He senses her confusion and helps her out, saying, “IF V is the integral of dV, and dV is e^x…” 

“Well Isn’t the integral of e^x still e^x?” Her voice is unconfident, looking up at Harry with wide, round eyes.

“You’re right,” he says encouragingly, a soft smile on his face. “Stop doubting yourself so much.”

A reciprocating smile spreads on her face, feeling a little more confident with Harry’s praise. 

“All you do now is put your numbers into the formula. Can you do it?”

He hands the pen over to her, their fingers brushing. Her hair falls in front of her face as she leans over the page to write down her answer, and Harry watches softly as she tucks it back behind her ear. He notices how long and delicate her eyelashes are as he stares at her side profile.

“Is that right?” she asks quietly, trying hard to be confident but still so nervous that she’s done it wrong.

He tears his eyes away from her face. “Almost,” he says, leaning forward. Their arms brush against each other, the space that they initially had set between their chairs having shrunk as they worked on the problem together. She can feel his breath as he quietly murmurs next to her ear, “You just need to add +C at the end.” 

She furrows her eyebrows and turns her head towards him, and feels her heart stutter as she realizes how close their faces actually are. “What does the +C mean?”

“It’s just like… it’s supposed to represent any constants that we couldn’t find. Because when you take the derivative of a constant it just ends up being zero, so when you’re given an integral and doing the anti-differential process… you don’t know if there was actually a constant there or what it was. So the +C is just representing any constant value that could’ve been in the answer, even though you don’t know what the number is.”

She blinks at him. “Um… okay. I’ll just pretend like that made sense.”

He chuckles, the first time she’s probably ever heard him laugh. “It’s honestly not that important to get it. Just remember to add +C every time you take an integral.”

“Got it…” she says, adding the +C. 

“Think you can do the next one on your own?” 

+++

“Harry,” y/n pouts. “It says I’m wrong but I dunno why.” 

He pauses his game and slides out of his seat, going over to y/n. She’d relocated to his bed after they did a couple more problems together and felt confident enough to do the rest by herself. His chest brushing against her back softly as he leans over her shoulder, going over her work. “What’s the integral of sin(x)?”

“Cos(x),” she says confidently.

“Not quite…”

She sits there for a second, brows furrowed. “Oh!” she adds a negative in front of the cos(x).

“There you go,” he grins down at her. 

She lays down on his bed, her hair splaying out behind her as she throws her ipad on his bed, relieved. “Harry. You’re a genius.” 

He laughs, a quiet huff of air that passes out of his nose with an amused smile on his face. “So it makes sense?”

“I think you should be teaching our class. You’re so good. Thank you for helping me.”

He hums, giving her a satisfied smirk, and goes back to his game while she finishes her homework. It's a strange setup, sitting in his bed and doing her homework while he plays, but she doesn’t mind it. 

In fact, it’s kind of nice.

Harry’s kind of nice.

She kind of likes Harry.

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hope u guys loved it!!!!!! part 2 is up on my patreon already, and will come to tumblr next saturday (july 29) pleeeeaaaase lmk what u rhink and give her a rb and a comment i love u guys so so much!!!

sunshine - part 2 (already posted on patreon!) : In which Harry's a little bit nicer, and y/n is very excited to possibly, hopefully, maybe be kissed.

sunshine masterlist

[hiccanna-tidbits]

The RotBTD+ Gang Plays DnD! (Feat. my ships, sorry not sorry XD)

So highkey I’ve actually been wanting to do a “The Gang Plays DnD” type post for AGES now, but then I saw @hobie-brown and @ohlooksheswriting-wips do DnD AU posts for RotBTD, and then I was like “Ah shit, I really should finish mine, eh?” So thank you to both of you for inspiring me to get off my ass and actually write the post!!!

Hiccup DMs. He comes up with this super complex plot revolving around dragons (because of course) where the party has to dismantle this society ruled by evil knights who want to genocide all of the dragons. Imagine his chagrin when the party wants to do nothing but fuck around in towns and aggravate NPCs 90% of the time.

They usually end up playing at Jack’s apartment, mainly because Hiccup’s dad doesn’t really want a bunch of loud nerds yelling about 20-sided dice in his household while he’s trying to work, if he can at all help it. Jack’s sister regularly barges into their living room and roasts the fuck out of Jack and his friends for being such damn nerds and eats all of their DnD snacks they’ve set out. If they’re in the middle of a combat session, she always gleefully proclaims that they’re all going to die. While Jack is annoyed by this, the rest of the party finds it deeply hilarious.

Jack Overland plays the absolute mayhem warlock Jack Frost, who got his powers through making a deal with the archfey Prince of Frost and has absolutely no qualms about being an evil god’s mortal Sower of Chaos. He spends the vast majority of the campaign doing such useful things as creating ice slicks under annoying NPCs and freezing people’s drinks. He also plays a Tiefling because absolutely no one can talk this boy out of playing the creepy demon race.

Rapunzel plays a woodland nymph druid who is also the party healer (because of course she is). Her name is probably Sunlily or something else suitably hippie-esque. Whenever there’s downtime (or whenever the rest of the party is also dicking around, and she can get away with it), Rapunzel likes to go into the nearest forest and pick the best berries and nuts for the rest of the party. She also loves baking fruit pies and cooking the best nymph food for her companions when given the chance. Definitely the party Cinnamon Roll (every party has one!). She often will turn into cute animals to distract the guards while the party infiltrates a building.

Merida’s character is the party archer and general ranged weapon master, as well as a raging lesbian. Hiccup learns very quickly that any male NPC who tries to flirt with her will very quickly get impaled with an arrow. She can’t ever decide if she wants to be a ranger or a rogue, so she multiclasses in both for flare. She also plays a Tiefling, and continually insists that her character is both scarier and sexier than Jack’s. In combat, she either Leeroy Jenkins her way in with a sword and just starts slashing every which way, or just shoots 90% of the enemies with arrows before the fight even starts. There’s really no in between. She can get away with this because she’s highkey one of the party tanks, and consistently deals a shitton of damage.

Anna plays a human bard, basically having read over the class options and going “Wait, in this one I get to make stylish medieval music??? And wear dramatic and garish outfits and a dumb hat??? And cast wacky illusion spells??? And do silly little magic tricks??? And INSPIRE EVERYONE??? Hell yeah, I’m in!!!” She mostly uses magic attacks in combat (definitely favors Tasha’s Hideous Laughter), but occasionally when she’s out of spell slots she’ll just take to slamming enemies in the face with her lute. She also has WAY too much fun with Vicious Mockery, let’s be real.

Elsa, upon hearing Jack’s character concept, rolls her eyes so far up in her head she can see her damn brain, and vows to play his concept, but serious–solely out of spite. She rolls up a super OP elf Chaos Sorcerer, filled with lots of brooding angst about how uncontrollable her winter powers can get if she isn’t careful. She combines it a bit with Storm Sorcerer so she can create literal blizzards, and Hiccup ends up allowing it just because he thinks it’s cool. Although Elsa’s character is undoubtedly aggravated by the rest of the party’s antics, she starts becoming grudgingly protective of these idiots and can deal some pretty crazy damage when her companions are threatened. She also contains one of the party’s only brain cells.

Eugene of course plays dashing rogue master thief Flynn Rider. Although his high deception and lockpicking skills certainly come in handy, he’s the most chaotic neutral fucker you’ve ever met and will take any excuse to rob NPCs blind or cheat them out of every cent they have in a tavern card game. It’s nigh impossible to get him to cooperate with the rest of the party much of the time, and often Elsa’s character has to either bribe him with some of her family’s gold or threaten to freeze him to stop him backstabbing one or more party members. Eugene’s character forces Hiccup to add in many more heist plotlines than he originally intended. This delights Eugene immensely, and sometimes he goes a bit crazy planning elaborate heists.

Moana plays a sorcerer water genasi. She can control any body of water, but she has a special affinity for controlling saltwater (i.e. the ocean lol). She also requests an animal handling bonus, but only with marine animals, solely because she thought it would be funny. She’s also an ex-pirate who robbed a lot of wealthy merchant ships and freed their slaves back in the day, which Merida thinks is incredibly badass. Moana tends to get bored and unengaged when there are no bodies of water to play around with, so Hiccup ends up having to add a lot more lakes, rivers, and oceans to the campaign than he originally planned on. Moana also takes a sailing skill, and thus the party often ends up traveling by boat. Typically Eugene and Rapunzel will infiltrate and hijack it, and Moana will sail it. Moana probably contains the party’s only other brain cell.

Astrid plays a gigantic berserker orc barbarian who is never without his trusty axe. Astrid is hands down the party’s top tank, and unquestionably deals the most damage every combat session. Much like Merida’s character, Astrid’s character is absolutely a shameless power fantasy. Hiccup pretty easily picks up on this, but is too polite to say anything about it. Jack also picks up on this, but is hardly as courteous as their DM, and teases Astrid mercilessly. Astrid is not amused.

Rapunzel requests that her weapon of choice be a frying pan, her justification being that her character found a discarded one at the edge of a human village outside her woods and mistaked it for a highly-dangerous human weapon. Hiccup is like “…you know what? Fuck it” and rolls up stats for a goddamn frying pan. Jack has nigh-endless admiration for Rapunzel for choosing such a goddamn memey, absurd, yet oddly effective weapon and it definitely makes the poor boy even more smitten with her than he already is.

Eugene and Merida have a bet going on who can sleep with more sexy barmaids. Merida is currently winning, much to Eugene’s chagrin. She’s not even inherently better at seducing NPCs, she and Eugene have the same charisma stat–she just consistently rolls better than Eugene. Eugene is incredibly salty about this.

Anna and Elsa want to be sisters in-game as well, but neither want to change their race–so Anna decides her character was adopted. Hiccup and the rest of the party go along with it, mainly because there’s something deeply hilarious about a regular human bard being adopted and raised by a family of high-powered elf ice mages.

Astrid is absolutely the sort of player who tends to get bored and restless outside of fights, and tends to fidget and twiddle her thumbs waiting for the next combat session. Jack picks up on this, and purposely does more roleplay for longer just to piss her off. He’s also just a very dramatic fucker and highkey loves roleplay.

When she’s not causing mayhem around the town or sleeping with hot women, Merida tries to entertain Astrid between combat sessions by offering to spar with her. Unfortunately, this does not usually end well for poor Merida, as even the most hardcore and badass of tieflings is prone to getting dumpstered by an 8-foot-tall barbarian orc with an axe. Astrid is, nonetheless, grateful to have someone to fight.

Rapunzel, Elsa, and Moana will humor Hiccup and attempt to actually play the main plot. Meanwhile, Jack, Merida, and Eugene are a DM’s worst nightmare. They constantly derail the damn campaign to fuck around, cause mayhem, and do inane shenanigans in every. Damn. Town. They go to. Anna is kind of a wildcard–she’ll typically go with whatever group looks like they’re going to be doing something more interesting. Astrid will go along with whichever group is more likely to get into a fight–which, often as not, is Jack and his posse of terrible Chaotic Neutrals (who have definitely pissed off a number of NPCs into attacking them).

As the campaign goes on, Elsa and Eugene become the beleaguered Party Mom and Dad. Both are quite aggravated by this–especially poor Eugene, who just wanted to play a morally-gray charming rogue who stole everything and got away with it and then accidentally ended up caring about these idiots he got stuck with.

Anna initially joins the campaign because she has a planet-size crush on Hiccup, and inevitably is the one who dragged Elsa into it too. Being the hopeless romantic that she is, Anna writes a love interest into her backstory. Hiccup eventually has the party run into said love interest, and Anna is overjoyed. He starts flirting with her as the love interest, and it’s easily the best 30 minutes of Anna’s life.

Moana and Elsa also give Hiccup pretty detailed backstories, and he works in little subplots for them. Moana gets to bring water back to a dying part of the jungle in the middle of a draught, while Elsa gets to go on a whole sidequest to explore her family history and how they came to be sorcerers.

Jack, Merida, and Eugene also give Hiccup fairly elaborate backstories, but Jack’s and Merida’s are like 99% memes and Dumb Shit. Hiccup tries to give all of them backstory-related plot hooks, but inevitably any hooks he provides are either stabbed, robbed, or frozen. Honestly any plot hook offered to these 3 will be all but spat in the face of and tossed off a cliff.

The one relevant part of Eugene’s backstory is that he and Rapunzel decide they used to be partners in crime before the campaign started. Rapunzel would infiltrate and scout out places he wanted to rob as small, unobtrusive animals (her preferred Wild Shape is a chameleon) and later distract the guards as a bunny or kitten while he went in and took every gold coin in sight. In return, Flynn Rider would bribe builders to not develop into Sunlily’s forest. Rapunzel and Eugene partly came up with this For Funsies, but also it was Rapunzel’s sneaky way of tricking Eugene into having prior connections in the party so he’d be less likely to betray them. It works pretty well–although the entire party is protective of Cinnamon Roll Sunlily, Flynn is certainly especially protective of her.

Astrid does the absolute bare minimum as far as backstories go. She is literally just here to smash stuff, slice people, and beat some fuckers up.

Rapunzel has a backstory, but she’s typically so invested in the main plot and the other party members that Hiccup rarely needs to bring it in to keep her engaged. She’s highkey the party emotional rock, and probably the only one keeping them all together.

On that note, Rapunzel’s character is the ONLY one who can get Jack’s character to take the plot even REMOTELY seriously. Like he’ll be dicking around in the nearest tavern challenging the nearest orc to a drinking game, and Rapunzel will come in and ask him to help them on a Main Plot Quest. And he’ll be like “come onnnnn I’m having funnn” and she’ll be like “Jack pleeeeeease?” and you just. Can’t resist Sunlily’s puppy dog eyes. At all. Also, whenever Sunlily is genuinely threatened, any silliness immediately goes out the window and Jack Frost is OUT FOR BLOOD.

For better or for worse, Rapunzel is not immune to being looped into Jack’s shenanigans. Occasionally if either Merida or Eugene have a particularly hare-brained scheme she’ll go along with it, but by and large Jack is the most successful in convincing her to temporarily abandon the plot and cause mild mischief with him. They once wasted half a session creating an elaborate “ice theme park” for some squirrels in the forest.

Hiccup tries to get Merida to play the main plot by eventually having there be no more sexy female NPCs to seduce in the towns they go to. Unfortunately, this backfires–Merida just hooks up with Moana’s character instead. When asked to roll for how good the lay is, Merida gets a nat 20–and thus her character and Moana’s character end up hooking up regularly throughout the rest of the campaign.

Hiccup introduces a few Wise Old Mentor-type NPCs to guide the party throughout the campaign. While Rapunzel, Elsa, Moana, and Anna actually try to listen to them and take their advice, Merida, Jack, and Eugene absolutely refuse to take them seriously and mercilessly play pranks on them.

At one point, Hiccup gives the party the option to attempt to tame a group of wild dragons and use them as mounts. They all have to make animal handling checks. Anna, Rapunzel, Elsa, and Moana pass. The rest of the party fails, with Jack and Eugene crit-failing. Hilarity ensues.

Hiccup ends up bringing back Anna’s backstory love interest as an NPC regular. Anna thinks he’s just being a good friend and a good DM and trying to incorporate her backstory as much as he can, but really, he just wants an excuse to regularly flirt with her. He hardly has the balls to out-of-game.

Merida comes out as gay toward the end of the campaign. Everyone in the group is extremely supportive, of course, but everyone is also like “Merida…with the amount of barmaids you’ve banged…and the amount of times you and Moana’s character hooked up…this isn’t exactly surprising.”

Hiccup actually finds a way to use Jack and Elsa’s same-concept-opposite-execution characters to the plot’s advantage. He decides one of the main villains will have a prophecy saying he’ll be taken down by a powerful ice mage. The party manages to fool this guy into thinking this ice mage is Jack, and sends Jack to fight him. As soon as the villain sees Jack, he’s like “WHAT??? THIS clown???” (word has absolutely spread throughout the land of Jack not using his ice powers for anything besides mildly annoying trolling). Naturally, the bad guy lets his guard down after thinking he’s going to fight this literal joke, and then Elsa crashes in from the side and absolutely dumpsters him.

Jack tries to defeat the final boss by just annoying him so much that he leaves. Unfortunately, he just annoys him so much that he attacks Rapunzel’s character. Jack’s just like “oh HELL no” and attacks with absolutely nothing held back. Turns out he’s pretty terrifying when he’s not using his magic for Dumb Antics.

During the final boss of the campaign, the Big Bad tries to one-shot Moana’s character, and Merida’s character super theatrically jumps in front of her to take the blow instead. Rapunzel just barely manages to heal Merida’s character, but it’s a really close call. During all this, Merida is like “ah shit...maybe I’m NOT just in this to get fantasy-laid.” After the fight’s over, her and Moana’s characters have a big dramatic love confession and share a Big Damn Kiss in front of everyone. It’s pretty epic.

After the final session of the campaign, Merida drags Moana outside Jack’s apartment and sputters and trips over her words for a solid minute before she finally gets out that through all this nonsense...well...maybe it’s not just in the game that she thinks Moana is hot. Moana just gets this HUGE grin on her face and says “c’mere, Leeroy Jenkins” and just pulls Merida in and kisses her. Cue the rest of the party barging in on them. Merida and Moana freeze, and there’s a moment of terrified silence...and then the entire party starts cheering them on like “took you long enough!”

The entire rest of the party could detect the sexual tension. Literally all of them.

But Eugene is like “HA, THIS MEANS IF WE DO A SEQUEL CAMPAIGN I’M WINNING THAT BET! BECAUSE YOU’RE GONNA BE DATING MO’S CHAR AND THUS NOT ABLE TO SLEEP WITH ANY MORE BARMAIDS!”

By the epilogue session, Jack and Rapunzel are dating. Merida and Moana are also dating. Hiccup and Anna STILL haven’t figured out why they’re so prone to spending half the session flirting when Anna’s love interest shows up, and Hiccup STILL hasn’t figured out why he likes to have Anna’s love interest show up so often. Bless their souls. Maybe they’ll figure it out next campaign...?

Damn I actually really like this...maybe if people like it I’ll do some incorrect quotes or a drabble or something??? Or maybe some HCs from next campaign???

[bakugou-tm]

Bakugou with a T H I C C but also shy s/o, she always covers her body but one-day she wears jeans or somethings and bakugou is like "where did this thickness come from"???

I love this request and I will gladly fulfill it for you

Rating: Slightly suggestive themes at the very end, because how could I not, but mostly fluff and soft bby Katsuki

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Bakugou was never one to care about the way his soulmate looked. That’s one of the many things you loved about him.

This wasn’t to say he wasn’t an ass man, because he was total ass man, or that seeing womanly curves didn’t excite him in the slightest. It’s just he always had been attracted to the personality before the looks, which was surprising with his rather blunt personality.

But that is, after all, how the two of you got together. New to the school your third year, attention grew on you quickly when people noticed you wore a large sweater that fell just above the hem of your skirt to hide your body away from wavering eyes.

After being bullied in elementary school, you had finally had enough. Though, that didn’t mean you didn’t still have those emotional scars attached to you.

Luckily enough, your new classmates were more than welcoming and accepted you even for your odd look. Slowly but surely, people began to grow accustom to your baggy clothing, especially a certain ash blond.

Initially your shy, reserved attitude annoyed him to no end. Bakugou had no patience with those who could even try to defend themselves.

But after being paired up with a project, Bakugou was forced to know your true story and how you had built up these walls around you ever since elementary school.

It was that day that Bakugou realized: He was going to do everything in his power to protect you.

And he did just that.

In good time he grew the balls, Kirishima totally set it up tho, to ask you out to which you happily said yes to. Now after dating for a few months, Bakugou was proud to see you come out of your shell and watch you turn into the bright and bubbly girl you were before you had been harassed in your early years.

The only thing that didn’t change was your baggy attire, but at this point Bakugou didn’t seem to mind. He wasn’t one to judge what others wore, and as long as you were comfortable and happy he couldn’t give a flying shit.

But oh would that change the day he found out what exactly was hiding underneath all those horrendous articles.

Standing before the mirror in your boyfriend’s bathroom, you let out a sigh as you eyed your figure one last time in the spunky outfit.

Today the girls wanted to go out in the city, explore a few shops and get some pictures for the start of summer. While the plans sounded great, you weren’t expecting all of your friends to rally behind your new outfit change.

“C’mon (L/n)-chan, pretty please wear this!” Mina exclaimed with big puppy dog eyes as she gestured to the outfit Momo held in her hands.

Biting at your lower lip nervously, you shyly looked down as you felt your heart beat begin to pick up just a bit faster.

“I..I don’t know... and how could I possibly accept this Momo, it must have costed so much!”

A few girls scoffed at this, Momo even rolling her eyes as they knew full and well Momo and her family weren’t ones to worry about the cost of something.

“Really (L/n) it’s not a big deal, these were in my closet from a few years ago and I never even touched them, they’re better off going to you than some dumpster.”

You hated that you knew she was right, and you hated that you had no more excuses to throw out as your friends expectantly looked at you.

“We know it can be scary (L/n) trust me, I understand.” Jirou said with a caring smile as she placed a hand on your shoulder, “But you can trust us, we know you’ll look good in this and it’ll be much more comfortable to wear in the hot summer sun right?”

She did have a good point. Nodding slowly you grabbed the clothes from Momo, all of the girls squeeling in success as they hugged you tightly.

“We promise you (L/n), you’re going to love your new look!” Hagakure exclaimed, Ochako nodding quickly beside her.

“Annnd if you do like the outfit, we can shop more while we’re out and pick out a few others outfits you’ll like!”

New outfits? For some reason, that made your heart flutter just a bit. But not in a nervous way, in an excited way. She was right.. they were right! It’s time for you to dress the way you’ve always wanted to dress ever since you were little!

‘Now was not the time, definitely not the time.’ You thought to yourself as you gripped at the edges of Bakugou’s bathroom counter.

How were you going to walk out in public like this? With all of those eyes watching! Would they make fun of your muscular thighs? Or your larger bottom? Just the thought of looming glances all on you made you feel like you were going to vomit.

Gritting your teeth, you slowly looked up to your reflection one last time. Even with these negative thoughts poisoning your mind, you had to admit you did kind of look... good.

The pastel blue spaghetti strapped blouse accented your collarbone and toned arms from training, and you admired the softness of it. Plus the V-neck style allowed you to wear a few of your favorite necklaces, one of them given to you by Bakugou a few months ago for Christmas. 

The silky blouse tucked in nicely with the dark wash high waisted jeans, the pockets on the back accenting the curvature of your backside and hugging all the right curves that you were able to pull off. Thanks to the high wasted aspect, the ankles of the jeans came up just enough for you to put on your favorite high top converse to bring the look all together.

With your hair tied up in a delicate bun, with the exception of a few hairs coming out, you couldn’t help but smile softly. For once in so many years you felt... beautiful.

Narrowing your (e/c) eyes sharply, you inhaled sharply before grabbing your bag and nodding your head confidently.

“I got this! I can do this.”

And so you did. You stomped out of your boyfriend’s bathroom with an unknown swagger and confidence you never knew you had.

Glancing towards Bakugou’s bed, you noticed his back turned to you as he was searching for something in his closet. Smiling softly at the cute backside of his wild blond tufts, you moved to his desk and double checked your bag to make sure you had everything with you.

“I’m heading out to go meet with the girls downstairs Katsuki, I’ll see you later tonight okay?”

Bakugou slightly jumped at the sound of your voice. Though he would never admit it, you were so good at sneaking up on people. The worst part was, you never even meant to do it.

This time was no exception, the ash blond mumbling a few profanities that went over your head as he searched for another game controller for Kirishima when he was to come over after you left.

Once his eyes finally landed on the controller he snatched it with an annoyed grunt before grabbing his water bottle from the metal shelf and closing his doors.

“Yeah yeah, don’t have a shitty time I guess and don’t get fucking killed, you hear me?” Bakugou spoke, uncapping his water to take a quick swig of it while he turned around to head towards your form, only for his entire body to freeze.

You.. you.. what were you wearing? Actually scratch that, who were you? Where did you get that body from?

Is this seriously what you’ve been hiding from him all these months?! An ass that looked like it had been sculpted from the gods, a (your figure) so perfectly sculpted it practically made him dizzy, beautiful smooth thighs that filled the jeans up just right. From head to toe you looked stunning... like a fucking angel!

Bakugou hadn’t even noticed he had paused halfway through swallowing his water until he bursted into obnoxious coughs, his face growing red as he coughed up the stubborn liquid before his eyes fell back on you once more.

At the sound of his outburst you quickly spun around, your (e/c) eyes widened with concerned as you saw your boyfriend red faced with a wild look in his eye.

“K..Katsuki are you alright?” You questioned softly, as you began to walk over to him until you heard a low growl vibrate past his lips.

Oh.

That’s why his face was so red. That’s what the downright animalistic look in his eyes was. You were so worried about what other people thought, you hadn’t even begun to realize that this was your boyfriend’s first time seeing you without baggy clothing.

“The fuck is this (F/n)?” Bakugou hissed lowly, his vermillion eyes hooded behind his ash blond bangs as he loomed over to you slowly.

You couldn’t bare look into his eyes, your own falling to the ground as you felt all the confidence seep from your body and to the floor.

“I..I.. the girls wanted me t..to wear something different...” You mumbled softly, feeling warm tears bring at the rim of your eyes, “I just thought...”

“You thought what, (F/n)?”

What were you even thinking. Why did you think dressing normally would be any different now? Nobody wanted to see your hideous body the way it was, not even your boyfriend. It would just be best if you hid it all from the world so you didn’t lose everybody you loved.

“I...” Was all you managed to whimper, your eyes squeezing shut to avoid any tears from seeping down your cheeks.

“You seriously fucking thought it was okay to hide this masterpiece from me all this time?”

At this you froze, eyes slowly opening at his comment. So he wasn’t.. disappointed?

Peering up slowly at your boyfriend through delicate lashes, you locked your gaze with his firm vermillion one, not even being able to help your lower lip from jutting out due to your overwhelming emotions,

“H..Huh?”

Bakugou’s intense gaze froze in the moment along with you, his face softening in confusion when he saw the thick layer of tears threatening to spill from your beautiful orbs.

“Wait (F/n), what the hell is wrong?” Bakugou spoke in a gruff, but soft tone as he quickly pulled you into his arms.

Biting at your lip, you let out a soft sniffle before embracing him back tightly.

“Y..You looked at me with such disgust, I thought t..that you didn’t like the way I looked and... and I didn’t want to lose you because of it.”

There was no getting around the immense dread and guilt Bakugou felt after hearing your confession, his eyes squeezing shut as he muttered ‘damn it’ under his breath.

Of course his shocked reaction probably looked like that to you, why wouldn’t it? He totally disregarded your past and how insecure you’ve been.

“No (L/n) that’s not it at all, n’ I’m an asshole for not expressing that,” Bakugou spoke into your hair as he placed a soft kiss on your head before pulling back to look you in the eye, “I was just shocked... all these months I’ve fucking fallen for you and I never even knew how beautiful my girlfriend was.. inside and out.”

Those words were enough to let those fat tears stream down your cheeks, ignoring the long work of makeup you applied to your face.

“K..Katsuki...” You whimpered with a large smile, one that made Bakugou swell with pride.

One calloused thumb swiped across both of your cheeks, a quick ‘tch’ escaping your boyfriend’s lips before he looked away with a blush, “Quit your fucking crying you sappy girl, you’re so damn dramatic.

Giggling softly you pressed a sweet kiss on Bakugou’s cheek, before grabbing your bag, “Thank you Katsuki, I love you.”

At those words, the ash blond couldn’t help but lay his eyes back on your own. A rush of heat flowed through his body, and he couldn’t even help the wild grin that came across his lips, to which he quickly pulled you in for a hug so you couldn’t see his emotions get the better of him.

“Love you too shitty girl...” Bakugou muttered with the role of his eyes before a sly smirk came across his lips.

Now that you were feeling better... there was no way on earth he was letting you get away with not only making him flustered but also daring to show yourself in such a delightful outfit.

Calloused palms traveled down your back, unnoticed by you until you felt the large hands grasp at the curvature of your cheeks, giving your bottom a nice squeeze causing a squeak of surprise to come out of you.

“Now you better come back home soon enough, it’s bad enough you’re going to be out in public with so many shitty extras looking at what’s mine.” Bakugou purred into your ear, his teeth just grazing the edge causing shivers to travel down your spine,

“So hurry fucking back, you know sure as hell I’m going to need to have my way with your sexy ass now shitty girl.”

[katie-dub]

A Special Day of Mourning

Fleabag Fic

Summary: Last time a wedding brought us together, this time it's a funeral. Still the tragic loss of Godmother in a freak accident involving a falling wall of plaster of paris penises has got to be good for something, right?

AO3

Yes, I’m back with more Fleabag x the Priest fic. Thank you as ever to the delightful @eirabach for reading this for me, when she doesn’t even go here! I love you darling.

15 Years Later

So last time you saw me, I was sending my sister off to go get the hot Finn who was crazy about her after my almost boyfriend the actual Priest delivered a terrifying homily about love at Dad’s wedding to the ever repellent Godmother. The Priest broke my heart when he chose God over me and exited pursued by a fox.

Since then I found love, tried the whole marriage thing, had a child, realised I was surprisingly good at motherhood but less so at being married and am now amicably divorced. I still touch myself thinking about that one night with the Hot Priest who was the first man I ever loved, unless of course you count Leonardo DiCaprio, which I don’t.

Claire and Klare have three terrifyingly beautiful children and she actually smiles constantly now. It was disconcerting at first, but after all this time, I think I’m used to it.

Dad’s still alive and kicking, at 88 years of age. Godmother, however, is not. She passed away in a freak accident involving a falling wall of plaster of paris penises at her sexhibition two weeks ago. Couldn’t have happened to a nicer person.

Before The Funeral

I walk up to Dad’s house with my Daughter in tow. She’s 11 and has already entered her awkward teenage years a whole two years early. Fucking overachiever.

That’s not to say that she isn’t the light of my life, the apple of my eye and all other appropriate cliches. It’s just that I can finally appreciate how really fucking annoying teenage girls can be. And she hasn’t even started her period yet.

We ring the doorbell and I hum “Ding Dong the Witch is Dead” very softly under my voice. If there’s a hell, I’m almost certainly heading there.

Claire answers the door. “Hello, are you ready for this sad, sad, sad day?”

“I’ve brought the champagne!” I reply, lifting the bottle I bought especially. Just to toast to our dearly departed Godmother in the manner she would have wanted, of course.

“You look absolutely gorgeous,” Claire says, eyeing me suspiciously.

“You know grief does wonders for my complexion, I can’t help it!” And if there’s an extra spring in my step at the thought of finally being free of Godmother, well you can hardly blame me.

I deliberately take a moment to compose myself. I do feel for Dad, burying his second wife has got to be monumentally shit, even if he is better off without her.

“Wait,” Claire tugs on my arm urgently, bringing me to a halt.

“Is everything OK?”

“Your Priest is in there,” Claire murmurs in an undertone, her lips barely moving.

I’m struggling to follow her meaning. “What?”

“You know, your Priest, the one you - you know?” Oh. Oh! “He’s in there with Dad, comforting him, he’s conducting the funeral. I just thought you might need some warning.”

I wonder if he’s still hot. “Is he still hot?”

“Painfully hot,” she says with a grim nod and a tone that implies catastrophe. “He’s also still a man of god, so just don’t fuck him again ok?”

“I do have some restraint! That said, he was really fucking good at it. I’m single again, why not hey?”

Claire’s jaw is tight. It’s fun to know that I can still wind her up like this at the age of nearly 50. “I mean it,” she pleads sincerely, “I know I wasn’t around much last time with Finland and everything, but I could tell how much that hurt you then and I don’t want to have to kick a Priest’s arse for hurting my little sister.”

There’s a steely glint in her eye that makes it clear she means it, and I find myself deeply touched. I swallow down a lump in my throat and shrug, an “if you say so” gesture. “Didn’t know you cared.”

She nods. “Right. Oh also, Godmother is in there.”

“Wait, Godmother? Like her body?”

“Yes, it’s a whole art thing apparently.” Claire says “art thing” like it’s an infectious disease. “Transparent coffin. It’s horrendous.”

We walk into the living room, Dad is sat on the sofa, head in his hands, the Priest is beside him, an arm around his shoulder. His neck is still beautiful.

And right where the coffee table should be, a transparent coffin, with Godmother inside, wrapped in some kind of hot pink monstrosity.

“Oh holy fuck,” I shout, stopping abruptly at the sight.

Claire somehow avoids crashing into me and steps around me muttering “I did warn you” under her voice.

I shake myself, forcing my feet to take me further into the room. I drag my eyes away from Godmother, seeking out Dad to comfort him, and I’m greeted by the sight of my Priest’s warm smile turned on me.

He has more wrinkles and his once dark hair is now salt and pepper, but age hasn’t changed one fundamental fact: he is deeply, unfairly hot. Lucky bastard.

And he looks pleased to see me, which I’ll admit does good things to my ego, I may be a divorcee fast approaching 50, but maybe I’m not completely unfuckable yet. Or maybe this is just a genuine friendly smile for a former lover. Either way, it’s a happy surprise.

“Hello,” he says, “I’m sorry to leave just as you’re getting here -” his eyes suggest that this comment is sincere “- but I need to be on my way to the church.” He grips my arm briefly as he moves past me, a small gesture of comfort that nonetheless sends a little shiver of anticipation through me. I’m surprised that even after all this time he can affect me like this. “I’m sorry for your loss, but it is lovely to see you.”

“You too,” I agree, “I’ll see you at the church.” He nods and heads out of the door.

Oh fuck, the church.

The last time I was in that church I was trying to wrestle him out of his clothes. I’ve never been back. Not inside it at least, although I may have dawdled outside it on more than one occasion. And now I have to sit through Godmother’s funeral there, all the time thinking about the way he ordered me to “kneel” in the confessional. Maybe about when he repeated that command in my house and I sucked him off.

I try to distract myself with other thoughts, but the only thing to look at is the coffin. It really is hideous, and not so much because it's a dead body, but that pink is a bit much and the embroidery on it looks suspiciously like - "is that funeral shroud really covered in fornicating skeletons?" I ask, looking to Claire in the hopes of hearing a sensible "no".

"It is," she confirms, her mouth a hard-set line of disapproval.

"Well fuck me."

The Funeral Procession

We didn’t do a funeral procession for Mum when it was her funeral. It was too over the top and showy for her. So of course Godmother insisted.

I’m packed into a car with Dad and Daughter driven by the Shepherd of the Deceased, as the man insisted on being called (I can see why Godmother liked him, but what's wrong with just calling yourself a funeral director?). Claire and her family are in the car behind us. We inch down the roads painfully slowly, surely pissing off half of London as we follow the hearse to the church.

My heart pounds at the sight of the church, a feeling that quickly gives way to confusion as we continue to drive past it. “Where the fuck are we going?”

“Language,” tuts my Daughter, and I’m tempted to stick my tongue out at her. I promise, I really am a good mum. Usually.

“No seriously, haven’t we just gone past the church?”

“Hmmm? Er, wh-what’s that dear?” asks Dad distracted and distraught and I’m beyond bewildered.

We pull up outside an entirely unfamiliar church, and it occurs to me that my Priest must have been moved to a new parish. All this time avoiding his church and he doesn’t even work there now.

I get out of the car and help Dad to do the same. I walk to the front door and that’s when I see the sign: St Jude’s Anglican Church.

Anglican?

What. The. Fuck?

The Funeral

There’s no chance for me to confront the Priest about his conversion before the service, so I sit by Dad’s side during it and stew on this startling revelation.

Anglican. He’s Anglican now, and so, apparently, no longer celibate. Not that he did all that well at the whole celibacy thing while I was around.

Does this mean he’s available? Or did he leave the Catholic Church for someone else, someone who he loved enough to really be with, someone who he is still with now?

I realise this sounds like I spent the past 15 years and all of my marriage pining for an unavailable man, when honestly, I haven’t. But it’s still something of a head fuck to discover that he is no longer forbidden fruit. The possibility of that is delicious, while also giving me doubts about what we ever had.

Like I said, a head fuck.

I can’t help but think, looking at his outfit with its minimalist design, that he must miss the robes from Catholicism. You can say what you like about their beliefs, but those Catholics have got style.

"Sometimes I worry that I'm only in it for the outfits," he'd said that night in the church, the alcohol and desire for me driving him to doubt himself. Well, he proved that wrong, didn't he?

A cameraman zooms in on my face and I find myself looking to camera, startled, before realising that I should probably focus on looking rather more distraught at Godmother’s death and rather less intrigued by the possibility of fucking the Priest again.

Trust Godmother to hire a camera crew to film her own fucking funeral.

The Wake

"I'm very interested in the conflict of my mortality, the desire to cheat death expressed in my pursuit of sexual pleasure with its promise of rebirth," Godmother narrates in her death video. "My custom-made burial shroud is a culmination of these desires, the fabric interwoven with fungal spores such that in my passing, new life springs anew."

I feel a presence beside me and assuming it's Claire, start to talk over Godmother's incessant monologue. "Is she calling death an STI? I think that's almost profound."

"Fucked if I know," a decidedly male Irish brogue replies. I turn to look at the Priest. "Sounds like a load of wank to me."

"That's Godmother in a nutshell," I agree and he laughs appreciatively.

"I'm not sure how those fungi will survive inside a sealed perspex coffin. Don't they need air?"

"Fucked if I know," I echo him with a shrug. "Still prefer funerals to weddings?"

"Generally, yes. You know I believe that we're going somewhere wonderful in the next life. This funeral has given me pause though."

"It's a bit much, isn't it?" I'm not quite sure what to say next, the thing I desperately want to say feels wildly inappropriate.

"I'm not Catholic anymore." I’m surprised by how direct he's been. "I just thought I'd put it out there. Although that now sounds like an awful chat up line, which it's not - "

"Well fuck you then," I say, trying to brush off the hurt of that decisive shutting down of my half-formed hopes.

"If you insist." There's a twinkle in his eye now. Maybe I've misread things.

"Are you propositioning me, Father?"

"You know, I think I might be."

"Mum! Mu-um!"

Of course, of fucking course, kids are the ultimate cock block. The Priest looks awkward, I probably do too. I swear he's trying to surreptitiously look at my ring finger so I use my hands in a way that probably resembles a muppet to show off how attached I'm not.

"Everything OK, darling?"

"Dad's here to take me to his place, says he's not comfortable leaving without speaking to you first." Daughter rolls her eyes. I wish I could do the same.

My ex is so considerate. What a prick.

"Sorry, Father, I have to go talk to my Ex." Had to get in that confirmation of my relationship status, just so he has all the facts. "We'll talk when I get back?"

"I'll be waiting," he says with a smile.

It takes longer than I'm totally happy with to wrap things up with my Ex. Unfortunately he's busy being concerned about my dad and asking practical questions about homework and after school clubs and I can't exactly tell him that I'm a bit busy seducing a Priest to talk.

It takes me a while to track him down when I finally escape, but I find him hiding and having a fag in the same secret corner where we once shared stolen kisses. Honestly I can't decide if it's romantic or a little pathetic that we're back here and history's potentially going to repeat itself.

Hopefully not to the same bitter conclusion.

I pull out my own fag and the Priest offers me a light. Leaning close to his hands I feel the same rush of anticipation I did back then, my heart fluttering at his presence like no time has passed at all.

"So," he starts, then breaks off.

"So," I agree with a nod. "I'm a mum - a single mum, and you're a hopefully single, no longer celibate man."

"I am."

There's a long silence that's almost deafening with its intensity.

"So what made you -" "I'm sorry I didn't -"

We both start speaking at once, stop and stare at each other for a minute then I gesture for him to speak.

"I'm sorry I didn't leave for you," he says, then looks me right in the eye. "I hope you know that it's not that I didn't love you, I just, I needed time to figure things out."

"I know. I knew that then too. So what did make you convert in the end?"

"The sex. I was really, really gagging for it," he deadpans. I snort with laughter, he waits for me to calm down before he carries on. "Honestly it did start with meeting you -”

“Me and my blasphemous tits.”

“Yeah.” He smirks at me, then looks a little sad. “I felt lost after we stopped - after I ended things.” He shakes his head and looks at me, swallowing a lump in his throat. “I was so lonely when we met and you came into my life and we just connected so deeply and I fell so hard for you.”

Oh fuck, I am not prepared for this conversation.

“No, don’t disappear, not now.” He takes my hand and waits for me to focus on him, so I try my best to fight against how overwhelmed I feel and to stay in the moment with him.

“I know that you don’t believe what I do, but I really do believe that God is love. 'Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in him.' That's what the Bible says. It just didn’t make sense to me that I could be so full of love and that that was a bad thing, something to be ashamed of. Isn’t love meant to be a wonderful gift from God?”

I can feel the tightness in my jaw, a prickle of tears, I seem to have forgotten how to breathe.

“As time went on the intensity of my love for you faded, but that seed of doubt was planted. Not in God, not in Him, but in the word of the Catholic church. A different denomination of Christianity would allow me to marry you, to celebrate our love, there’s nothing in the bible to say that we shouldn’t.”

These words hang heavy between us and there’s a long pause, while he takes a long drag on his cigarette and lets the smoke slowly drift out of his parted lips.

“Over time I noticed more and more of these inconsistencies and one day a teenage boy asked me for forgiveness for falling in love with his male best friend and I just couldn’t … I couldn’t understand why he needed it. I couldn’t in all good faith follow the teachings of the Catholic church and stay true to what I believe.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“You wanted to marry me? It'll take more than that to make an honest woman of me."

He chuckles. “I don’t know. If we could've dated and my feelings stayed as they were? Maybe. I wanted the option.”

"When did you leave?"

"Four years ago."

"Did you -" oh wow, it's so hard to ask this, but I need to know. "Did you ever think of telling me?"

"No."

Fuck me that hurts. I drop my cigarette to the floor, study it as I stomp down on it to make sure that the fire is out. It’s my way of deflecting from the sudden urge to cry. He gently lifts my chin with his finger, bringing my face up to look at his.

"I knew you were married. Your stepmum said."

"Was she a dick about it?"

"Of course. Still, you were unavailable. What good would telling you have done?" He's right. I was still married when he converted, it was for the best.

"I saw you once with him. Or I think it was him."

"Am I detecting a smidge of jealousy there, Father?"

"Oh fuck off.” He didn’t deny it. “A parishioner had died and I just, I really needed a friend and I thought of you. You just got me so well, you know? I went to Hillarys and you were there in the arms of this man and you looked so happy that I just couldn't ruin that for you. I shouldn't have gone. Not when I didn't know if I could trust myself around you."

"And what about now?"

"Well I'm allowed to kiss you now, I don't need to worry about trusting myself."

"That's true. So do you want to come over to my place for a friendly game of strip poker?" He laughs at me, shaking his head while smirking. "Spin the bottle?" That devilish gleam appears in his eyes. "Seven minutes in heaven - or is that considered blasphe -"

He cuts me off with his lips on mine.

It’s everything I remembered and so much more. Intense, passionate, devastating kisses that drive me to cliches straight out of a romance novel. Pushed up against that wall my heart races, my chest heaves, and, yes, my knickers get fucking wet.

It feels just like it did 15 years ago. It feels like love. And that’s insane, we had barely even started when things ended between us and I’ve lived and loved so much since then. But this thing between us? It just feels right.

My body is on fire, I’m pretty sure it’s in the good, aroused way and not because God’s smiting me for defiling a priest. He’s a tad late to the punishment, if that was His plan. But I’ll happily let this fire consume me because it feels so good. After all this time, I never want what we’re sharing to end. But the need to breathe becomes too strong and we break apart, noses nuzzling and foreheads resting together.

“Can I take you to dinner tonight?” he asks but I’m so staggered by our kisses I barely hear what he’s said.

“What?” I breathe out in between pants.

“Let me take you to dinner tonight,” he says, stroking my cheek before leaning in for another dizzying kiss.

"Oh, I don't know," I pretend to be thinking hard. "Sounds a bit tame, I did have plans with a rabbi for a good hard fuck."

He barks out a laugh. "Oh really?"

"Yeah and tomorrow's my night getting spanked by an imam."

He raises his eyebrows holding back a laugh at what I'm saying and playing along. "What about Friday?"

"Threesome with a pujari and a Buddhist monk."

"What if I upgraded my offer to dinner and if you're really good you get dessert?" He ran his tongue along his lips.

"And what if I'm really bad?"

"You'll have to get on your knees and pray for forgiveness."

It's ridiculous how easily this man can turn me on. Although I have kneeled for him before, I remember the effect.

"I could be tempted to agree," I say, affecting disinterest.

"But you'll have to dump your harem of religious leaders," he all but growls.

"Oh I don't -"

He slams his mouth into mine, pushing me back against the wall, cutting me off with a fierce kiss. He trails his lips along my jaw to my ear. "Please," he murmurs, then kisses down my neck and pushes my collar to one side to suck and lick where it meets my shoulder. That fire starts up inside me again, his mouth almost painfully good against me, driving me to the brink of madness until I'm half tempted to push his trousers down and fuck him against the wall where anyone could see.

“OK,” I pant. "I - I guess I can do that."

"Good girl," he growls into my ear, then pulls away, righting my collar as he does, to hide the bruise he's surely worked into my skin. “We should probably get back before they start looking for us.”

And he steps back from me, innocent smirk on his face.

"I'm going to make you pay for that," I say, trying to sound commanding, although I'm so breathless that the effect is lost.

"Oh please do," he says with a grin.

We head back towards the party and one important thing occurs to me. “If you’re Anglican now, why did you do Godmother’s funeral? Isn't she Catholic?”

“You may find this hard to believe, but I don’t think she was really all that interested in the religious side of being a Catholic.”

“Oh yes, she wanted one of those religion-free faiths.”

“Exactly. She may have intimated to me that she would very much like for me to conduct her funeral when her time came because her funeral should be a thing of beauty.”

I snort with laughter. “I didn’t realise it was possible to be vain from beyond the grave, but if anyone was going to find a way it was her.”

“You won’t hear me complaining - she brought me back to you.”

“She finally did right by me, she’ll be so disappointed.”

[skarletterambles]

Gods of Egypt reaction blog

As a fan of both Nikolaj Coster-Waldau and ancient Egypt, I had to watch this movie.  It’s a hideous mess of whitewashing, incorrect mythology and WTFery, but I got it from the library so no money went toward it.

Random thoughts typed while watching are below.

[Warning:  Spoilers ahead, plus a mention of rape and victim blaming.]

So I guess we’re not going with the original story in which Set chopped Osiris to bits and scattered them so Isis had to track down her husband’s reproductive organs to conceive Horus.  I bet nobody ejaculates into each other’s food as a power move, either.  Tsk.  (Seriously, though, that’s for the best.  I have complaints about the accuracy of the mythology in this film, but some Hollywood adaptation isn’t necessarily a bad thing...)

Oh, the irony of Nikolaj playing a lionslayer instead of, well...the Lion of Lannister...is hilarious.

Yikes, they really, really whitewashed this shit, didn’t they?  Holy cow.  (That wasn’t intended to be a Hathor pun, but if fits...)

At least they made Thoth black, even if he does talk like Data from Star Trek.  Isis was like, “Did you ever imagine your pupil would become king?”  Uh, he’s the king’s only son, you don’t have to be the God of Wisdom to predict that.  Duuuuuuh.

OMG Gerard Butler is keeping his Scottish accent for this role.  He’s dialed it back somewhat, but it’s definitely still there.  WTF LMAO

“I will be the one true king of all Sparta...errrr, I mean, Egypt!”

And he’s like, “You have to be rich to enter the afterlife from now on.”  Since when does Set have any say in that?

I was hoping their animal forms would look cool, not metallic bodysuits ripped from Transformers.  What a letdown.  

At least this eye-gouging was significantly less gross than the ones on Game of Thrones.

*insert jokes about Set overcompensating for something with the huge obelisk to Ra*

Bek was like, “Derrrr, gee, I’ve got this blinding artifact holding my enemies at bay.  I could flee immediately, or I could be a TOTAL IDIOT and take a few seconds to kiss my girlfriend first instead.”

“Death is not the end,” says the generic doe-eyed love interest.  No, no, no, it’s “Death is only the beginning,” and it was a MUCH better movie’s tag line! This pile of crap cannot steal it!

Okay, Anubis looks kind of cool.  So do the giant scarab beetle mounts.

OMG this is dumb.  It just is.  Let’s fly to a freaking space station without any kind insulation or oxygen.  Horus, I can understand, since, y’know, magic, gods, etc.  But the mortal dweeb?  No.  He should have frozen and suffocated.

Geoffrey Rush is Ra?  What?  Whyyyyy???  He’s done such amazing stuff in his career.  How much did they have to pay him to do this?

Oh look, the Earth is flat after all!  *shocked emoji*

I’m not sure what reaction they were going for with Gerard Butler flying around on a sled pulled by giant beetles, but I bet snorting laughter wasn’t it.

So the other gods and goddesses are either 100% human-looking, or in their metallic animal forms, but Nepthys has pretty wings in human form.  Okay.  Sure.  All the rules are made up.

Scaling up the gods to be bigger than mortals was a neat idea, but I don’t know if it was worth the amount of CG that it must have required.

Did we need random bullet-time moments while Horus fights the metal bull men?  No.  No we did not.

These gods aren’t that powerful, if being pushed off a waterfall almost kills them.  I know, I know, they’re playing it up that Horus is not as powerful without his other eye, but come on.

Am I supposed to know who these two women are with Set?  One black, one albino?

Since when does Hathor have anything to do with the dead and the Afterworld?  And come on, you cowards, let her turn into a giant silver cow to fight!  She had one slightly bovine-looking tiara early on, but otherwise there was no sign of her true nature.  Harumph.

Oh, the black and white women ride giant fire-breathing cobras.  Of COURSE!  Makes total sense.  (WTF??????)

Hathor:  You should tell the mortal the truth about his dead lover. Horus:  No, I refuse. [Bek, who is walking like ten feet behind them:  Tell me what? Horus:  Oh shit.  I forgot you were back there.]

The Sphinx doesn’t really look like a Sphinx, but okay.  Did it just say “Oh, bother” like freaking Winnie the Pooh?  LOL!

Set just stole Thoth’s brain.  Rude!

The wings of Nepthys, the mind of Thoth, the heart of Osiris, the eye of Horus...by your powers combined, I AM CAPTAIN PLANET! 

And the most predictable patricide in cinematic history in 3...2...1...stabby stabby!  *golfclap*

Forecast for this afternoon, 80% chance of Apophis destroying creation...

Instead of a golden hand, here Nikolaj has golden EVERYTHING.

Horus is like, “That darn mortal had to go and be mortal.  Tsk.  I knew there was a reason I didn’t hang out with their kind.”

But literal deus ex machina to the rescue, Grandpa Ra (that rhymes!) fixes everything.

And they all lived happily ever after.  I guess.

What the actual fuck did I just watch?

I mean, it kept my interest.  Nikolaj was by far the highlight, as he was giving his all at playing Horus, despite the absurdity of it all.  So it wasn’t entirely horrible, but it wasn’t what I’d call good, either.

The CGI was really hit or miss.  The fire effects, Apophis, the collapsing sand pyramid, and the scenery was cool.  The bull-headed soldiers, the gods’ mech outfits, and some of the magic effects were...not as good.

Perhaps paradoxically, the plot was both predictable and hard to follow at times.  I mean, the major story beats were predictable, but the details of what MacGuffin they needed to take where for what reason got convoluted.

The female characters were cardboard and passive, existing mostly as eye candy and prizes to be captured by the men.  Hathor had a few decent story beats, but the narrative also glossed over the fact that she was kept as Set’s sex slave for years, and had Horus be annoyed that she didn’t escape to return to him, so...yeah.  She regained some agency toward the end but even then it was the self-sacrificing kind.  Meh.

I think the movie would have been better if it was just a sci-fi/fantasy world, without the ties to Egyptian mythology.  It’s not like they were going for accuracy with their depictions of the myths, or put in Easter eggs for lore buffs to catch.

Honestly, the more the movie went on, the less I noticed the painful amount of whitewashing, because it was so loosely based on actual Egyptian mythology that I sometimes forgot that’s what it was supposed to be.  It was just a generic sci-fi/fantasy adventure story with a bunch of white people (and a couple black people) in it.  The vibe was more Graeco-Roman than Egyptian at times (for which I partly blame Gerard Butler’s costumes).  I was expecting more attempts at authenticity.

That doesn’t mean that the whitewashing wasn’t egregious, because it really was, and there’s just no excuse for it.  That was the most serious flaw in the film, but definitely not the only one.

I’m glad I saw the movie since now I have an informed opinion about it, and Nikolaj is fun to watch, but it’s like a 3/10 overall.

[idontcaretbh]

Secret for the Mad

(kinda) slow burn Ironstrange fanfic. Originally posted on AO3 by my account Toxictimefanfics. Please come bug me on Discord! https://discord.gg/dNrb37M

Chapter 1: Magic (Mystery Skulls)

Doctor Stephen Vincent Strange is broken. He’s done his fair share of healing though it’s becoming far too much for him to do alone. He is among the newest Avengers, as such he’s staying with all the others in the Avengers tower. It’s hard to get used to, given that he’s constantly surrounded by the most dangerous people on Earth. Something he can’t seem to comprehend is Stark. Anthony Edward Stark is quite the character. He’s arrogant, egotistical, vain, and worst of all he’s self centered and narcissistic. He’s all of these things that annoy Stephen to his very bones, then why does he also have to be kind, caring, affectionate, and charitable, not to mention down right gorgeous?

Stephen is awoken one night due to the constant pain in his hands. With a sigh he gets up and exits his room. It’s late, four in the morning to be exact. Once in the hall he proceeds to the living room balcony wearing exactly what he wore to bed in the first place, horrible bright pink sweatpants and an old gray sweatshirt. He’s surprised to find someone else on the balcony by the time he gets there. Not wanting to scare whoever it is too bad Stephen decides to knock on the edge of the open sliding glass door, the mystery person whirls around to reveal a disheveled Tony Stark.

“Stark.” Stephen says joining Tony at the railing, looking out at the beautiful view they have of New York.

“Strange.” Tony says in reply turning back to the view.

“You look like shit, couldn’t sleep?” Stephen asks the other with a playful grin. In return Tony only laughs and punches the taller man in the arm.

“What about you all high and mighty? Certainly the ‘Sorcerer Supreme’ needs his sleep?” Tony asks in his all too common childish voice.

Stephen chuckled then responded, “I asked you first asshole.” To which Tony sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

“It’s just we’ve all been through a lot lately. Sure the whole Thanos thing left everyone rattled but everyone’s seemed to have bounced back from either literally dying or seeing their best friends die.” He paused for a moment letting the other respond.

“You haven’t ‘bounced back’ though, have you?”

“Isn’t that obvious? The kid literally died in my arms while begging me to make it stop. I couldn’t stop it. And you know what? I blamed you for part of that.”

“Oh really? And why’s that?”

“You literally gave Thanos the fucking time stone after telling me and Peter that you wouldn’t mind sacrificing us if it meant protecting the damn thing. So I blamed you for giving the madman the power he wanted.”

“Truth be told I did have a plan, doing something stupid just happened to be part of the plan.” Strange shrugged with the end of his sentence.

“It was such a fucking stupid plan, Strange. You all died and left me and Nebula alone on Titan. We literally had no idea what to do. She’s actually great company once you get to know her.”

“I’ll have to talk to her then, probably even thank her for helping you save everyone.”

“Hell yeah, you’ll probably like her, she’s actually super funny once she’s comfortable around you.”

“Noted, but Stark you were always part of the winning plan.”

“I was?”

“You were the one who killed the titan were you not?”

“Well yeah but anyone in my position would have done the same.”

“But it wouldn’t have worked Tony!” Stephen nearly yelled in his frustration. “If it were anyone else it wouldn’t have worked. It had to be you.” He said quietly, returning the silence, only this time it’s extremely uncomfortable.

“I literally thought I was going to die so many times Strange. You scared the hell out of me, you know?” Tony sighed. “I was so damn scared Stephen.” The conversation took an odd turn when the scientist moved his hand to rest on the doctor’s making the other hiss in pain. “Oh sorry! I didn’t realize that would hurt you.”

“I thought you were more observant than that Anthony.” The sorcerer sighed and looked down at his hands. “Terrible car accident, crushed my hands.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s alright it’s not your fault, I suppose I should wear those gloves less?”

“Oh my GOD yes! Those things are hideous! They don’t go with the rest of your usual outfit at all! Yellow doesn’t go with red or blue!” Tony defended much to Stephen’s amusement.

“I won’t argue with you. I assume nobody knows just how mangled my hands are since I hide them all the time?”

“Damn straight. And here I thought I had you all figured out Strange.”

“Is that so?”

“Well, other than literally all the fucking wizard shit I don’t understand. You’re an ass.”

Stephen chuckled a bit at Tony’s response but thought of a simple solution to him not understanding: Show him.

“Well, I could show you some things if you’d like.” The sorcerer said, turning to the other with a grin.

“That sounds real cool doc, but I can’t have you destroying the place. Not that I’m accusing you of wanting to, You just can’t be too careful with all the Avengers in one building.” Tony rambled and was surprised to hear the taller man start laughing at what he had to say about the situation.

“I have a solution for that.” Stephen said matter-of-factly, raising his hands and performing a spell in one fluid motion, instantly what looked and sounded like shattered glass surrounded them, “this is the mirror dimension, what happens in here doesn’t have any effect on the real world, what happens here, stays here. Oh! And nobody can see us.” He rambles with a grin.

“Alright then Dumbledore, let's see what you've got.” Tony responds, amusement evident in his tone.

“First off, never call me that again, secondly, you're going to want to hold on to that railing.”

“What are you talking about Stra-” Tony starts before the part of the balcony he was standing on shot into the air Stephen following soon after. “What the hell was that Strange?!” Said man stepped onto the platform Tony was standing on and made his own shrink back down.

“Easy, I'm simply showing off.” He said with a wave of his hand, in a split second the platform both men were standing on broke off and began lazily drifting over the city.

“I don't usually have the luxury of seeing the city from this height without something needing to be saved.” Tony breathed out. “It's amazing, you know, despite the glass shards.”

“I'd rather not even attempt bringing us out of the Mirror Dimension, manipulation of the world is practically impossible unless we're here.” Stephen explains, moving his hands to bend and distort the multitude of buildings in the city below.

Tony watched it happen with a look of astonishment and pure wonder. Stephen thinks it's adorable, even if he knows the other man is trying to explain everything he sees with every form of science he can think of.

“What else can you do?” Tony asked out of the blue after roughly ten minutes of watching the distorted buildings.

“Well, you've seen a lot of what I can do when we're in a fight. But here.” Stephen says, conjuring a small shield. “This thing can actually block a lot more than you'd think.”

“Do you think it'd be able to take on both of the repulsors of my newest suit?”

“Probably.” Stephen chuckles and gets rid of the shield.

“You never answered my question by the way.” Stephen turns to the engineer with a questioning look.

Tony sighs before explaining. “ I asked why you're up this late.”

“It's my hands actually. I've gone through so many surgeries that the pain is unavoidable at times.” Stephen explains, holding up his shaking, heavily scarred hands for the other to examine.

“I might be able to help with that.” The engineer replied with a yawn. “We should probably head back though, people will be wondering where we disappeared to.”

Confused, the sorcerer asked for the time, they had been talking for almost two hours meaning some of the early risers would be getting up soon.

“You're right.” He relented, setting everything in their surroundings back to normal and opening a portal out of the Mirror Dimension. They parted ways promising they'd talk more once they'd had some sleep.

[sweetdreamr]

thoughts on thor: ragnarok

I’m gonna preface this by saying that I really really wanted to like this movie. Like. Really.

But, as the Rolling Stones once said, we can’t always get what we want.

Be warned, this is long af.

Hits:

--Valkyrie--um, lethal, gorgeous, haunted by her past? Yes please. I’ve been a sucker for that one since my Xena fangirl days. Her bond with Hulk was also funny and warm (”Angry girl!” made me smile, the more so because she seemed less angry around him.) It was nice to see somebody having fun around here.

--Hela-- Her costume was epic. I was antsy about what they’d do with her clothing, given that it can be pretty, uh, minimal in the comics sometimes. Fortunately that didn’t happen here. She was equal parts scary, funny, and seriously badass, and i enjoyed the parallels between her relationship with Odin, and that of Loki and Thor.

--Grandmaster was fucking hilarious and occasionally cruel, and who knew Jeff Goldblum could rock blue eye makeup like that?

--Fenris. I still wanna pet the puppy. Even undead he is floofy and gorgeous.

--Thor having to see Hulk naked. That’s karma, asshole.

--Loki’s costumes were fantastic, and his ability to be equally resilient yet able to charm his way into the Grandmaster’s good graces (and STAY there, since the Grandmaster is fickle af) is one of the few things about him that stayed in-character.

--It’s nice to see Loki supporting the arts in Asgard. Also, eating healthy is important. U go Loki.

--Matt Damon had the role of a lifetime as Loki. He may as well end his career now, since it’s not gonna get any better than that.

--Odin’s death scene was really beautifully done. Even if Odin suddenly being about to die made no fucking sense. At least he doesn’t seem pissed at Loki, and let us have a nice little moment between them.

--I liked the acknowledgement that Odin’s power and wealth has a really ugly history. For all Asgard’s beauty, it’s built on something truly hideous.

--Loki: “You had ONE JOB.”

--Thor is right about Hulk’s room and its stylistic choices. It was ugly af.

--Literally everything Heimdall. He gets better with every film, but goddamn does he need more scenes. Still, his hair looks great and he’s the unsung hero of the film.

--Thor losing his eye and becoming more like Odin, but hopefully better. Also, harnessing his lightning/thunder powers fucking ruled.

--”Oh? You’re the God of Hammers now?” Odin pls stop making me laugh. I’m trying to hate you over here.

Misses:

Oh boy here we go, strap in kiddies.

--Odin’s power and legacy is shown, as mentioned above, to come from true ugliness, and yet? He doesn’t have to answer for it at all, and instead dies a peaceful death. I liked that scene, don’t get me wrong, but what the fuck?

--Really, Loki? Skurge was the best replacement you could find for Heimdall? Maybe try Ziprecruiter or something next time?

--Thor. Um, has anyone seen this guy? Do you think he knows that some douchebag stole his outfit and is douching his way around the multiverse pretending to be the God of Thunder for most of the film? More on this later.

--Why would the realms have gone to hell after Loki assumed the throne? Nothing in his past within the films indicated to me that he’d be a poor ruler, certainly no worse than Odin. He might get bored with it, and come to dislike it, but Loki can and does do many things he doesn’t particularly like, and does them well. (Exhibit A: playing second fiddle to Thor, etc.)

--How the fuck did Loki’s spell drain Odin of his magic? Also, if Loki is that powerful, how the fuck did Dr. Strange manage to trap him for 30 seconds, let alone 30 minutes?

--Seriously, Odin’s death made no goddamn sense. At all.

--I’m calling a bam on Thor saying “I have a feeling it will all work out fine.” THOR. IT GETS WORSE AFTER YOU SAY THAT. EVERY TIME. STOP.

--Dr. Strange’s cameo was a waste of my fucking time. That’s like 20 minutes of my time that I will never get back. You’d think, being such an experienced actor, that Benedict Cumberbatch’s American accent would be way better, but it sounds awful. Like, really really awful. I’d rather fall for 30 minutes with Loki than have to listen to that auditory nightmare again.

--Who was Hela’s mother? (I mean given that her father is Odin, her mother could be pretty much ANYONE.) Not a big deal that we never found out, but it annoyed me anyway.

--Are we gonna talk about how Hulk has spent the last two years fucking murdering people?

--Also, how the fuck did Odin convince an entire kingdom (or NINE) that his daughter never existed? I’m assuming magic, but as the writers didn’t give enough of a damn to think this was worth explaining, I’m not about to theorize and do their job for them.

--WHY DID I HAVE TO BE SUBJECTED TO HULK’S NAKED ASS? WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO TO DESERVE HAVING TO SEE THAT WITH MY OWN EYEBALLS. THIS IS NOT OKAY.

--The Warriors Three died the most pointless fucking deaths ever, literally for no goddamn reason. There was no need to kill them off, since it would have been perfectly logical for Thor to send them to various parts of the realms to restore peace. Honestly, the only reason for their deaths that I can fathom would have been to increase Thor’s grief, but we never see him learn of their deaths or mourn them, so that can’t be it. Again, pointless.

Remember when I said I’d talk about Thor’s OOC behavior later? It’s later. And OH BOY do i have a lot to say.

--I’m about to contact the authorities and put in an MIA search for Loki and Thor’s character development. It was nowhere to be seen in this film. They were just tossed straight into their old cycle of betray, threaten, beat up. It’s stupid as fuck, and I’m really fucking annoyed that I have to sit through this again. Sometimes it’s entertaining but at this point? It’s just tedious.

I’d also like to point out that the initial relationship presented to us in the first Thor film was really not that cycle. It’s vaguely hinted at, but not completely spelled out. There was genuine love and affection punctuated by the occasional prank, but that’s pretty much all I got. While I recognize that the cycle is a central theme in the comics, the film versions are very, very different. That said, it makes giving the film characters the storylines of their comic book counterparts is a tricky business that needs to be handled a LOT better than it was here.

Spoiler alert: It was not handled well here. At all.

Oh, then there’s Thor’s repeated line of “That’s what heroes do”, which was reminiscent of this:

Not a great parallel to evoke, guys. I’m just saying.

Because last time I checked, heroes don’t leave their brothers tazed and convulsing on the floor. That’s not a hero move, that’s a dick move. Thor is supposed to have evolved from that, and bringing it back for the sake of punchline just feels like a cheap-ass way of getting laughs. (Yes, there’s the possibility that they planned this together, but again, I’m not wasting my time honeypotting for hack writers.)

I mean, the Thor we’ve been presented with so far is warm-hearted and smarter than most people think, and he does his best to make things right when he fucks up.

Except for this movie, apparently.

Also, while I didn’t mind Loki’s ‘looking out for ME’ mindset (it’s one of the few things that actually made sense--I mean fuck, who else is gonna do it?), Thor’s surprise at it was kind of ridiculous. What the fuck did you expect? It’s like he totally forgot that, at the end of the first film, he realized his role in inflicting damage onto Loki that helped to make him into what he was.

Instead it was like:

Um yes. Yes it fucking does. Does this negate Loki’s choices, or his actions? Fuck no. But it did play a role, so let’s at least acknowledge that, shall we? Having said that, it’s logical to conclude that continuing the same behavior that inflicted the initial damage is counterproductive at best. And a shitty creative choice if ever there was one.

Thor’s anger over Odin’s death, and Loki’s supposed causing of it (albeit intentionally) made sense, (i guess? i didn’t understand Odin’s death scene in case u hadn’t noticed) but it was done in such a weird way. “I hate you, oh no wait let’s banter, oh okay now i’m mad at you again, whoops no i’m not” all throughout the film. Conflicting feelings is one thing, but goddamn, pick a fucking flavor.

Also, what the fuck is Marvel’s issue with portraying psychological trauma? The way they do it, it’s like it isn’t even worth mentioning unless it can be played for laughs. (See: Naked Selvig running around in TDW, without much reference as to why he’s doing that. “Oh he’s naked hahaha”, yeah, let’s not treat this with any sympathy at ALL, good job Marvel.)

And in Loki’s case? Oh God. The whole scene where he sees Hulk again is just. So awful. That it’s played for laughs makes it worse. Loki getting his comeuppance from Hulk during the first film after trying to use him actually had purpose (Loki’s defeat and Hulk’s taking revenge at being used), but since he hasn’t done anything to Hulk during Ragnarok, it’s just not all that funny.

I mean, fucking hell, psychological trauma does have absurdities that can lend their way to humor, but doing it at the expense of the traumatized person is fucked up and gross. Whether or not the traumatized person is a nice person or not really doesn’t come into it. Or at least, it shouldn’t.

Myy good friend @icyxmischief has a lot of meta about this on her blog, and she’s way more eloquent than me, so please go read it. It’s amazeballs.