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jiminiediminie · 4 years ago

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A not-at-all brief commentary on BE-hind story interview.

We really got over an hour of BTS just talking about their music. They really told the media yall don’t ask the right questions so let me do it for you. Love that for them.

But honestly I am so happy that they decided to do this. Because most of the time interviewers don’t ask the right questions or it is in a situation where they have time constraints. Or the interviewer never even listened to the album in the first place (think james corden saying his favorite track on be is dynamite probs because it seemed like that was the only one he knew).

I appreciate as well that it is the members interviewing each other. They could have just as easily sat each member in a room and asked them the questions off screen. But they didn't. I think that adds such a personal element to the interview. Bts members likely know about each other’s music (even solo music) better than anyone else. So who better to talk with the members about their music than each other?

Running commentary of each interview below the cut.

JK interviews Jin

Blonde jk for the win

I lost count of how many times they shook hands please they are so annoying

Jin please don’t downplay your talents. That hurt my heart. If I could describe his voice in one word it would have been powerful. I hope that jin got to see all the praise after the fix you cover. Because he killed it in that.

I loved getting to hear the behind the scene of jin’s role in stay; I didn’t know his role in it before he talked about it.

I’m glad jin got to release abyss and put so much of his own work into it. It is also so amazing to hear how much help joon is to all of the members when it comes to lyrics and music. A talented king.

Slightly surprised there wasn't more clowning around in their interview since these two are usually so chaotic together. I thought jk would clown jin when they started talking about jin being older but he didn't. Growth.

Hobi interviews JK

Hobi looks so soft in that cardigan

Hobi right off the bat asking about the mixtape. He knows what we want.

Jk talking about how he wants to try writing songs not just about his own experiences was so interesting to hear; can’t wait to see what he comes up with in the future.

Him talking about all the different things he wants to try but it’s almost too many was very relatable. That feeling of having so many choices you don't know where to start. But that does mean that when we do get a mixtape from him it will be from varying styles of music and i am all here for that. Personally holding out for rocker jk or acoustic jk.

His favorite song to sing is euphoria; that’s so sweet it is such a gem of a song. I think I would have chosen still with you since it’s pretty different than a lot of the other songs he sings.

Hobi saying “you’re all grown up” to jk and jk saying “i'm not the old me” really hit me in the feels. Hobi and bts really did watch jk grow from a slightly awkward pre-teen to the confident man he is today. They must feel so proud of him. 23 yo jk is not a baby of bts anymore. He does what he wants. He wears what wants. He has long hair and dyes it blonde then blue just because he can. He even talked about how his voice has matured. Im glad that the members see that too and seem to be proud of the person he has became.

3 main tracks. 3 mv. 3 choreos of different styles. Yes do it jk please im begging. After seeing him dance in black swan at mma i want to see more contemporary dancing from him. And i feel like after getting still with you and stay he can write songs that would fit that vibe. I just want to see jk’s dance talent showcased more.

I don’t know if the fans could survive 3 separate jk mv. We barely survived a live performance of my time.

Tae interviews Hobi

Tae in that emerald green sweater. He looks so good. He should wear that color more

I love how serious tae is about playing the interviewer. The actor in him never sleeps.

Hobi talking about the dual meanings behind the title of Dis-ease was so cool. Fans obviously caught that it could mean multiple things. But as far as i know that was never confirmed. Now that it is I am once again impressed with the thought they put behind everything they do.

A psychological occupational disease. Your mind hobi

I think it’s so cool that hobi recorded it by himself and how he said that doing it like that allows him to grow as a producer since he has to listen and edit himself. They really just always continue to grow in their roles in music don’t they?

Hobi talking about how he would love to solve his own problems but then remembering that he is part of a team really shows how much they trust and rely on each other. So he and jimin worked on the melody of the bridge together and then joon wrote the lyrics. And now we have the most iconic bridge of all time. Still holding out for a dis-ease live performance or music video (I’m a clown I know).

And lol at tae being like call me next time dude

“I would like to share my music with everyone” -- please do

Please tae is so sweet and attentive!? “When you talked about music i noticed you had a smile on your face and i thought ‘he really loves music’”. “But personally if i had your skills I’d be showing off and be proud of myself”. Kim taehyung is the embodiment of a teddy bear

And closing it with actor tae again -- “can i get your autograph”

Jin interviews Jimin

Two seconds into the interview they are clowning each other with jin saying to talk informally. Yet as soon as jm did (and that slight smile when he did), jin is like I was talking to myself. Chaotic as expected of these two.

Jm talking about his process for music being “just go as i feel” makes so much sense for him. He is an easy going person and it makes sense that it reflects in his work style.

It’s so cool that him coming up with the melody of the dis-ease bridge was just because he was humming to himself and the producer liked it -- almost serendipitous if you will

I love when people praise jimin for his vocals. So hearing him talk about how they used his vocal in place of a female for lgo’s chorus stroked my jm bias ego

Joon is seriously the best human ever. Jimin didn’t want to bother the other members to help with christmas love but joon contacted him and helped with the lyrics anyway. Bts seriously has the most amazing leader.

“I’d like to try making an acoustic style song”. Please do it jimin. Acoustic bts is my weakness but especially acoustic jimin. Songs like promise sound so good with his singing style.

Jin shaking jimin’s pinky 😂

“I’m a little disappointed in the MC” “but you know if you looked around there is no MC like me” -- jinmin’s relationship everybody

Jimin interviews Joon

Minimoni look so cozy in their sweatshirts sitting on a plush rug.

“You know we have this youngest member”. “Oh jungkook?” “No the real youngest” “Oh seokjin. That’s a shame” -- please minimoni are so funny and joon knew immediately who jm was talking about when he said the real youngest.

“It felt like I was doing the only thing i could do” . Please let me give you a hug joon

Joon’s mind continues to amaze me. How he talked about needing the concept or key word to give “flesh” to the song was such a good way to explain how he approaches music.

“What do you mean little? You play a very big role” -- lol jimin speaking facts. I already mentioned how amazing it is that he helped jimin and jin with their individual songs. The fact that members who want help with their own music always seem to go to joon really tells you how much of an amazing and talented human being kim namjoon is. I can’t remember the context, but there was this moment that jimin (or was it hobi?) said something like “what would we do if we didn't have rm”. They are truly lucky to have him.

Release that minimoni subunit now please and thank you

Tell us what you’re working on joon don't be shy. Joon mentioned that his music is like a diary. I would love to know his thoughts expressed in music now. 2018 joon who made mono and 2021 joon are two very different people. Bts has grown so much since then.

Joon interviews Yoongi

The work colleagues! Did you know they have worked together for 10 years?

Yoongi’s fuzzy sweater. So soft

Yoongi saying he writes songs when he is bored. Lol i love him so much

It’s really interesting to hear them talk about their lyrics getting rejected. I guess we don’t hear much about that part. And lol at joon just laughing and saying he guesses he didn’t grasp tae’s intentions for b&g.

I like that this was more of a conversation than an interview. I love it when these two just sit together and talk about technical stuff that i don’t understand (like the festa interview)

Yoongi is such a good person to make music with. JK wanted to add humming to telepathy? They added humming to telepathy. I had wondered the reason why there are two different versions of the song. I prefer the longer one tbh

Yoongi wants to make an acoustic song? Hell yeah. Jimin does too. So yoongi x jimin subunit acoustic song with yoongi playing the guitar (please). Also a folk song?? Yoongi your taste i like it

I can’t wait to hear yoongi sing im so excited for him

Yoongi talking about how they made this album with no pressure and got to just do what they wanted and that it was received so well. How he wants to keep making music like that. That makes me happy. I want them to continue to get to do that. I love the big productions and concepts of their albums. But if they are happier making albums like be that do not have that then that is what i want them to do.

“Please listen to telepathy a lot” -- what yoongi wants yoongi gets. Go stream telepathy

Yoongi interviews Tae

The title of blue and grey is because tae wants to overcome that feeling. My heart.

He looked so shy talking blue and grey. I am so excited to see him get to talk about kth1 when it comes out. I could listen to him for hours.

English guide track? Release it tae

“I felt kind of proud of myself” -- you should tae

Yoongi straight up asking tae why he didn't include joon’s lyrics was interesting. It’s cool to know that tae had the kind of power to choose what he felt would fit the emotion of the song.

It doesn’t surprise me that tae feels so much pressure to make sure the tape is good before it is released. It seems like when it comes to solo work the members really do feel more pressure since they aren't sharing the burden with the others.

“Please look forward to it” -- don’t worry tae everyone is

We know from the preview that there are 13 songs potentially on the mixtape. That would be so amazing if he released it with so many songs. Tae’s voice sounds so good in so many different styles so i know that it would be so varied.

Final thoughts -- I love that they got to do this. I hope going forward they do this more for their albums. And from what the members said they enjoyed getting to be so involved in the process of making the album. It would be amazing if that continued. While a lot of their hit songs are not made fully by the members, those songs that are often have more meaning to the fans. b&g, stay, telepathy. These were songs from the members. We got to hear their actual thoughts put into these songs. I hope that bh sees how well this album did and lets that continue.

Congrats if you made it to the end!

#my thoughts #bts #ot7 #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #jinkook #hopekook #vhope #jinmin #minimoni #namgi #taegi #jikook #naabc

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marlahey · 4 years ago

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under the same roof part three: all the time you need

a harry styles rpf part three of six written by annie and aj (marlahey and formerly harryonstage) ratings/warnings: disaster gays, endangered ovaries from dad!harry, women aggressively supporting women notes: enter the rest of harry’s family unit! in case anyone’s curious, annie tells sylvia to give her dad a kiss in vietnamese, to which he responds, good girl. before anyone comes for me, there will be plenty more opportunities for bed-sharing to come. side note: aj always pictured olivia coleman as officer warren. masterlist | part one | part two | part four (21.12.20)

............................................... • saturday, 5th january 9:18 am • The second time you’re roused from sleep, sunlight illuminates Harry’s room. You lift your head, squinting, but more quickly you recognize where you are.

Harry is nowhere in sight, but a fresh glass of water is within reach on the nightstand, and a cardigan knitted with primary-colored patches lies folded at the foot of the bed. After slipping your arms through the loose sleeves, you take a few gulps of water and make sure to shut his bedroom door quietly on your way out. You hadn’t spent much time in the living room as per Officer Warren’s instructions to avoid the windows, but you can see into it from the hall. And since there’s still no sign of Harry, you take a minute to discreetly look around at the place he and his daughter call home. His flat is obviously larger than yours—he has two bedrooms versus one—but the morning light seems to stretch the space even further, like an open armed welcome. The atmosphere bustles with a little dose of chaos. Two brimming bookshelves span one wall of the living room, and plants line the windowsills. A half-sized Christmas tree stands off in the corner, wrapped in twinkly lights and strings of popcorn. A white fender guitar decorated with various stickers stands with a speaker beside the couch, and records tile the wall behind it: Pink Floyd, Fleetwood Mac, The Stones, The Cars, Hello I’m Dolly. There is ample evidence that a child lives here, too. The walls are dotted with drawings in watercolor, crayon, and sparkles. You can see pieces of Lego strewn out on the carpet; they must be from that towering box Harry had towed into the lift a week before Christmas. A small smile tugs at your lips as you follow the smell of espresso into the kitchen. You find Harry leaning against the counter looking contemplative, holding aloft a cup of coffee that he seems to have forgotten about. He’s wearing the same shirt he’d slept in, but thrown on a pair of joggers. You bid a quiet, ��Good morning.” He inhales sharply as his head whips toward you, his drink sloshing over the edge of his mug slightly. “Jesus, sorry,” he laughs softly, shaking his head at himself. You watch as he wets a dishrag and cleans the small mess. “Not really used to company my age.” “Oh… Sorry.” “S’alright.” His voice is covered in sleep; it almost sounds like he has a cold. “Coffee?” You hum appreciatively. “Love some.” “Were you able to get some sleep?” he asks, pulling a mug from the cabinet. “Enough, yeah.” All you can think about is waking up locked in his embrace, on the still-dark cusp of sunrise. “Thank you for letting me, um…” “Course. Cream?” “That’s great, thanks.” Harry nods over his shoulder towards the bedroom. “It help at all?” How are you supposed to answer that? “The real bed?” he clarifies, like it is at all necessary. You listen to the spoon clink rhythmically against the ceramic, and settle on “I think so,” as noncommittally as possible. “How did you sleep?” “Very well.” In passing you your mug, Harry catches your eyes for the first time today in a way that feels like not an accident. “More importantly, how are you feeling about everything else?” You shrug, eyes glued to the cream swirling in your coffee. “Better, a little.” “That’s good.” “What about you?” you ask. “You’ve kinda been through the wringer, yourself.” “I’m good, yeah.” Harry pushes up his glasses. “I was thinking—if you don’t mind—I’d like to come with you to the police department this morning.” “No, no, Harry.” You wave away the offer. “Don’t worry about that.” “No, really. It might make more sense. I saw him in the hall last night, and I was with you in the lift. They might need to ask some questions of both of us.” You consider this a moment. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to.” “I don’t have to,” Harry counters. “I want to. I want you to, y’know… ” he trails off. “I want them to get this guy.” You blink at him. There’s a strange feeling in knowing that Harry has clearly thought about your wellbeing beyond the night that you’ve effectively been trapped in his flat. Regardless, it’s too early for a battle of wills, and he has a point. You slouch against the fridge. “Alright. Well… I still have India’s car so I can drive us,” you concede. A smile lights Harry’s face. Suddenly your stomach rumbles so powerfully and for so long that it interrupts the conversation. You cover a small, mortified laugh with both hands as Harry’s eyebrows raise. “Well,” he begins, exaggerated. “Let’s take care of that… You take the first turn in the bathroom, I’ll fix us some breakfast.” “You sure?” “Go ahead.” He grabs a skillet from the drying rack, turning on one of the burners. “Thank you, Harry.” “It’s no problem.” You wash your face with something you find above the sink and brush your teeth on auto-pilot before considering your bundle of clothes from the night before. Your cardigan lays at the top of the stack. Four of your fingers fit through the gaping hole in its collar, and dirt covers one of the sleeves. You hadn’t forgotten about the shape it was in last night, but you didn’t consider it a problem until now, as you hold it up in front of you by the shoulders, frowning. You try to tame your hair with a purple, sparkly brush to no avail, so you take a quick look around to see if Sylvia has any spare barrettes or pins. Thankfully there’s a single hair tie floating in the bottom of your purse. You shrug back into Harry’s patchwork sweater—oddly comforting in how fully it swallows your shoulders and hands—and slip back out to the kitchen, where Harry plates grilled tomatoes and bacon. “We’re about ready to eat.” Harry turns the stovetop down to a simmer as the toaster pops. “How do you take your eggs?” “Sunny side up, please.” He salutes you with his spatula, attention already returned to the pan. “Can I help with anything?” Harry nods to a drawer. “Yeah can you pass us a couple napkins from just there? I’ll be right back,” he rushes, already halfway out of the kitchen. You pull a few paper napkins from their packet as he returns with two chairs that you recognize from his small wicker table. “Blinds are open in the other room, thought it might be best if we just eat in here.” He sets the chairs apart, facing one another. “Now this is living,” you deadpan. Harry laughs lightly as he gestures for you to sit. The two of you get adjusted with your plates on your lap, and your knees almost bump in the small space. “This is great, Harry. Thank you.” “I’d make you bubble and squeak, too, but we’re fresh out and Sylvia hates beans so we don’t keep them on hand. So technically...” Harry lowers his voice to a whisper. “S’not a full English fry up.” You can only smile around your mouthful, unexpectedly endeared. The rest of breakfast passes in silence. You shouldn’t have slept on an empty stomach; you’re ravenous from skipping a meal last night. He looks up at you eventually, a touch more serious than before. “Shall we think about heading to the police station soon?” You dab your mouth with your napkin and nod. Harry stands from his chair and reaches an open hand down to you for your plate. “No, no,” you nudge him away with your elbow. “You cooked, I’ll clean.” “Let me deal with these. You’re a guest.” “I’m a captive.” “No you’re not! You’re—” He breaks off, hesitating a moment before plunging on with an amused slant to his lips. “You’re my sort-of friend.” Your assumption he hadn’t overheard that comment to your mother last night on the phone was clearly in vain. You press your lips together against any inadvertent reaction. Your head swivels toward him, eyes full of lighthearted reproach. “Look, just let me do the dishes to give myself the illusion that I’m not just a freeloader here. Besides, I’m already ready to go.” "Fine,” he caves disapprovingly. “I’ll get myself sorted and be out in a minute.” “Take your time.” While Harry is preoccupied, you finish slotting the clean plates from breakfast carefully into the drying rack and pull out your phone to message India. Hey, I have a lot to update you on but it’ll be much easier to explain in person. I still have your car and I need it for one thing this morning but I promise I’ll fill the tank ASAP. It’s about the guy that’s been following me. Just know that I’m safe and everything’s okay. I’ll call you when I can. Love you. Send. That’ll have to do for now. Harry returns in jeans and a sweater. It’s still strange to see him so dressed down. “Ready?” he asks. “Yeah. You mind if I wear this to the police station?” you ask, pinching the fabric of his cardigan. You feel the urge to explain yourself—the hole in your sweater, the grime—but Harry’s already shaking his head. “Not at all. Do you maybe want something a little less… loud? I don’t even wear that one out, myself, really.” You consider the bright cacophony of color like it’s brand new to your eyes. Loud is right. “Yeah, that’s not a terrible idea.” Harry’s lips twitch. “C’mon then. You’re welcome to pick anything you’d like.” Pick? You nod because you’re worried the surprise is painted on your face. “Okay.” Harry leads you to his bedroom again, and over to the large wooden wardrobe. He pulls the double doors open and you cannot help yourself from gawking a little. You’re taken by all the exquisite patterns and intricate textures of the suits, but it’s oddly wistful to run your fingertips along all of them hung in a row. You smile privately, a bit removed. “What?” Harry laughs from behind you. “Nothing!” you reply, glancing over your shoulder before saying more softly, “I just recognize some of these.” “Oh, thought you were sizing them up. My mates all take the piss… They say my suits are eccentric.” He rolls his eyes, reciting the insult like he’s quoting their words verbatim. You turn back around to his closet. “I think they look nice—I think you look nice in them.” You take a step back and crane your neck to the shelf of folded sweaters above the hanging rod. The extensive array of muted wool and cotton is a bit overwhelming. You spot the planet sweater he’d worn the first time you saw Sylvia, the oversized yellow one that reminded you of Charlie Brown, the black one with half a red heart and the letters, NY in bold white text… It takes a minute of jogging your memory before you can recall him wearing something more plain. Harry doesn’t own a lot of plain. You still can’t quite reach the shelf up on your tiptoes, but Harry is at your side immediately. “The brown?” He tugs it from the stacks and passes it down. “Yeah, thanks.” You examine the camel colored fabric with tiny flecks of black thread, and run your hand along the smooth purl. “This should do.” You tug the sweater over your head; it’s boxy, your arms aren’t long enough to fit, and it isn’t doing any favors for your shoulders. You have to roll the sleeves up past your wrists before the outfit can half pass as something you purposely wore out of the house. You spin around to face him. “Does it look normal?” Harry’s jaw flexes as he gives you the up-down. You fiddle with one of the sleeves. “Yeah,” Harry says stiffly. “Looks normal.” It’s bizarre walking through the level six hallway; it’s identical to your own, but the last time you’d been here, everything down to the carpet and light fixtures had been tainted by your deafening fear. What’s more is that riding down in the lift with Harry feels entirely different now. You see it all from his perspective, and try to visualize what you look like to him most mornings, standing in the corner with your school bag and a book tucked beneath your arm. The lift picks up a few people on its way down, but by the time it reaches the garage, you and Harry are alone. You catch his eyes in the reflection of the doors a second before they open. He clears his throat. “I know it’s probably… we’ll be fine, but stay close, yeah?” You look up at him and nod. It’s easy to keep to your word. Harry guides you to walk in front of him the entire way as your eyes scan the shadows in between the rows of cars. You’re sure you will never be able to see this garage quite the same way. “It’s the old Volkswagen.” “I see it.” You’re so out of it that you almost try to get in on the passenger side. It’s the kind of slip up that Harry might have teased you about, but he’s quiet and looking around, too. You pull the jacket you’d left on the seat last night into your lap, the two of you strap in, and you cannot pull out into the street fast enough. The mustard yellow envelope in the back seat is an unwelcome passenger, visible in your rearview mirror. Who else knew about these photos? How many are there that weren’t in your envelope? Are they online somewhere? Would they follow you to law school? Your grip tightens on the steering wheel as you grind your teeth. “Alright?” Harry asks. His voice brings you back down to earth. He’d asked you that question when you pricked your finger on the poppy in your jacket pocket. He’d asked you in his bed on the most terrifying night of your life. And he’s asking you now. You nod. “I will be.” • saturday, 5th january 10:42 am • In the parking lot behind Lavender Hill Police Station, you’ve killed the engine but remain in your seat. Part of you is still reluctant to have Harry come along; keeping your composure in front of the police feels hard enough without the prospect of him being there, too, but maybe that’s the one thing that will get you through this. “Sorry.” You shake your head, suddenly aware of how long you’ve been sitting motionless at the wheel. Harry’s gaze is unperturbed. He watches you push anxiously at the sleeves of his sweater. “Take all the time you need.” It’s the same phrase the initial officer who’d taken your statement all those weeks ago had used. It’s what Officer Warren had said to you on the phone last night, and you’re so tired of hearing it. You don’t want to have as much time as you need to feel calm or steady or normal again. You want your time back. You want to reclaim all those extra seconds spent checking over your shoulder, the minutes lost to changing your routes, and the hours spent staring up at the ceiling when you should have been asleep. Rationally, you know that there will be time to relearn how to walk down the street and feel at ease, and plan that trip to Brighton you and India have been talking about for months. There will be time with Harry that isn’t this… stuck in a cramped space, crushed by the weight of your own fear. You hate the way you felt with him in the lift this morning; you want that back most of all. “Faster we get in there,” you say—half to Harry, half to yourself, “the faster we’ll get to leave.” Harry nods. “C’mon then.” The heather grey of the building is no less intimidating than it was in October, but at least this time you don’t have to pull the heavy glass doors open on your own. Inside, you speak with the woman at reception, who gestures for you to sit in a small waiting area just beyond the desk. People in uniform bustle back and forth. Harry’s leg brushes against yours as you sit. He doesn’t move. Neither do you. You have no sense of how long you sit waiting—this doesn’t feel like a place where it’s appropriate to play Solitaire on your phone. You can feel Harry looking at you periodically, but you don’t glance back until a woman with a familiar voice appears before you. She ushers you to follow with a quick, professional smile. Harry doesn’t quite offer the same, but you’re reassured anyway. “I’m Officer Warren.” She stops at a desk with an empty chair beside it. You take care to shake her hand firmly, introducing yourself with all the confidence you can scrap together. “Are you comfortable sitting here?” “Yes, this is fine.” If either Harry or Officer Warren notice your voice is an octave higher, neither of them make any sign. “Good.” She reaches past you to shake Harry’s hand too. “Harry.” “Nice to meet you both. We can also find a conference room, if you’d like somewhere more private, or if you’d both like to sit.” Harry speaks up when you don’t right away. “I’m fine standing.” He looks exactly as he had in the car—calm and willing to take your lead, so you sit before you can change your mind. Officer Warren smiles again, clearly trying to put you at ease. You wish it was more effective. “Right, well I won’t take up too much of your time. Since I took your statement last night, I’ve already got a copy of the transcript from our conversation over the phone, and you won’t need to go over all of that again.” Your shoulders cave a little in relief. Harry’s fingers hook gently over the top of your chair. “Okay.” “But,” she continues, “there is the matter of how to proceed. What we talked about regarding your flat still stands… it really isn’t safe for you to remain there, especially since the suspect seems to know which one is yours, and we still don’t have a clear idea of where he is now, or how he was able to access the car park in your building in the first place.” “So…” You shake your head, in either confusion or denial. “I can’t even go home?” “I’m afraid not, for the time being.” Her eyes are soft, regretful. “Not if he knows where you live. Not if there’s a chance he could get more photographs, or try to break in again.” Your stomach twists. “Were you able to figure out who he is?” You’re not even sure you want to know. Officer Warren’s mouth pinches apologetically. “Not yet. We have a couple technicians working on the security footage and the photos you’ve turned in, so hopefully we’ll be able to get something from them. The car he was driving had no plates. You haven’t seen any sign of him since we spoke last?” You shake your head, and she glances up at Harry as if to confirm. “Alright, that’s a good sign at least. He knows we’re watching, now. On the other hand, there’s a chance he’ll carry on, but be stealthier about it. Is it possible for you to physically stay inside, completely out of sight for let’s say, a week?” “I mean… where?” “Do you have somewhere else you can stay for the time being? With a friend?” You open your mouth, but the “Yes,” is not your own. You force yourself not to turn back to look at him; Harry’s fingers touch your shoulder again. “Yes, she does. She can stay with me. We live in the same building after all, so it’ll hardly be disruptive.” Officer Warren gives him a long look. You can’t tell if she approves or is displeased with him for speaking for you, but now that the initial shock has worn off, gratitude washes over you. Asking India to stay with her indefinitely would have been out of the question; there’s no way you’re endangering your best friend any more than you already have. You’d be putting her in a position where she couldn’t say no. She has four roommates. She doesn’t even know about the photos yet. “That works,” you hear yourself say. This will only be for a few days, you reason—it’ll buy you just enough time to find your feet. By then, you can sort out a longer-term place to stay if the police still haven’t found the man. Officer Warren is speaking again, and it takes effort to actively refocus on the conversation. “The objective here is to make it seem as though you’re gone. On holiday. He’ll be keeping an eye on the building, no doubt, so he’ll notice if the car is gone, or your flat is empty. Is there any way you can take your classes remotely?” You find you can barely speak, so you just nod instead. She leans in a little, her eyes finding yours more carefully. “I know it’s frightening, but you’ve been incredibly strong. This won’t be forever. In the meantime, we can send an officer back with you this afternoon so you can gather a few of your things.” You nod again. “Do you have any questions for me?” You force yourself to say, “No, thank you,” which Harry echoes. Officer Warren nods, almost perfunctorily, and stands. “If you wait here just a minute, I’ll introduce you to the officer who’ll take you back to your flat. You’ll be in an unmarked car, and we can arrange for yours to be retrieved.” “Thank you. I’ll call my friend now,” you say. “Maybe she can… I'll have to ask her to look after my cat. And it’s her car, anyway.” Officer Warren nods, apparently satisfied. You shake her hand again, though your mind is stuck on this won’t be forever. As you rise from the chair, you feel the gentle pressure of Harry’s hand on the small of your back. When Officer Warren returns with another uniformed policeman, you don’t want to move, but your legs carry you anyway. Harry’s gaze finds the side of your face periodically like a lighthouse beam while you call India from the backseat of the police car. After reassuring her again that you’re fine, you gloss over the details of staying in Harry’s flat. You can tell even in her silence that she’s not going to let you off the hook that easily, so you start rambling about what to do with Chowder before she gets the chance to say something embarrassing while Harry is sitting right there. “Of course I’m taking Chowder,” she says before you get the chance to phrase the question. “Don’t even worry about it. I’ll get in a cab right now. Do you need help packing up?” “Yeah sure, thank you. But what about your car?” “I’ll take the keys from you and get it after. Honestly, it’s fine. It’s not like it’s gonna get stolen from the bloody police station.” It’s a stupid joke but you’re comforted a little anyway. “Okay.” “Be there soon. I love you.” “Love you too.” Harry glances over at you. “Everything okay?” “Yeah.” You smile a little and for the first time in ages, it doesn’t feel forced. “She’s gonna meet us at home and take Chowder for me.” “That’s great.” “I know,” you reply, a little distant. “Harry, thank you for coming with me… It was nice not to have to, y’know, do that alone.” “That’s alright.” His voice is equally gentle. “We’re gonna… They’re gonna find him. And they’re gonna fix this, and then everything’s gonna go back to normal.” You aren’t sure which of you he’s trying to reassure, but Harry meets your eyes and you nod. Back at your building, you meet up with India. “Think I might just pop home, if that’s alright,” Harry says, going in for the sixth-floor button on the keypad. “I told Annie a bit about what’s going on, but I owe her an update.” “Of course.” You look up at him in the reflection of the doors. “We’ll see you down there.” It’s your first time seeing the dent and scratches on the door to your flat in person. You shiver, turn the key, and push the door open. “Chowder!” you shout as a flash of orange darts through your legs, meowing down the hall. The officer’s hand lands reflexively on his baton as your cat scares all three of you half to death. Once you manage to corral your cat back to your corner of the hallway, you struggle to keep him still in your arms. “Indy, his crate is under my bed—” “Hold off a minute, I’m going to do a quick walkthrough. I’m sure everything’s fine, but wait out here.” The officer leaves the door cracked open behind him. India offers a small, encouraging smile when you flinch at the sound of him announcing himself in your apartment. You stroke between Chowder’s ears; he is heavy and warm in your arms, and his fur sticks uncomfortably to the sweat on your palms. “All clear.” The officer reappears. “Let’s try to be quick about this.” India immediately ducks through the door following him, but you have to take a deep breath before stepping through the threshold. The place looks completely untouched. Had you been expecting company, perhaps you would have thought to clear the dishes from the sink or remove your laundry from the drying rack. After coercing an unusually talkative Chowder into his travel crate, you and India work as a team to stuff as much into your duffel bag as will fit. Shirts, bras, and pants hurtle past your head. “Indy, I’m staying at a neighbor’s for a few days—what on earth am I going to need this for?” You hold up the silk, strappy dress that just landed on your neatly-folded stacks, shooting her a disapproving look. “I’m just grabbing and throwing!” “Well just, y’know… let’s make sure we’re not speeding through this at the expense of packing with a little common sense.” “I’ve got this,” India says, waving down at the open duffel. “Go sort whatever toiletries you need, yeah?” Thankfully you’ve stayed overnight at her place enough times to warrant a travel case of essentials that lives under your bathroom sink. There’s makeup cluttered all over the counter. You stare at it a moment before rolling your eyes at yourself. “We should probably get going.” The officer’s voice from the other room startles you both as India zips up your duffel. “Are you two about ready?” As you stick your head out of your bedroom, the officer is peeking through the blinds across the street. “Yes,” you reply. “We are.” Overnight bag and Chowder in tow, you clamber back onto the lift. “Did you get your toothbrush?” “Yes.” “Face wash?” “Yes.” “Pillow?” “Indy, you saw me putting it in—” “Towel?” “Yes.” “Phone charger?” “… Shit.” Ding. The officer steps out with you on the sixth floor as you thank him, and bid a quick goodbye once he reassures you to call if you need anything or, of course, if anything happens. India turns to face you next. “He’s this way.” You nod down the hall, and she leads. “It’s right at the end. The one with the wreath.” The doors of the lift close. You don’t want to think about the last time you’d been walking down this corridor and heard that sound from behind you. India moves aside holding Chowder’s crate by the handle, and the shopping bag full of his supplies as you step up to the welcome mat with your things. Harry swings open the door to his apartment after the second knock, immediately taking the duffel bag from off of your shoulder. “Oh, Harry, you don’t have to—” “I got it.” India elbows you in the ribs. Harry turns to carry your bag to Sylvia's room, and when you look behind at her, her eyebrows are raised above an animated smirk. “Don’t,” you whisper through gritted teeth. She raises a hand in defense as Harry returns before reaching out to accept his offered hand. “Hello, I’m India.” “Harry.” “Pleasure.” He flashes her a warm smile. She nods appreciatively as they shake hands—at you, however, instead of Harry and your cheeks ignite. “Okay great. That’s settled then. Shall we—um… Indy?” You cut in, then turn to her, nodding to the door with I’m going to kill you in your eyes. “Lovely to meet you, Harry!” “Cheers, dear. You as well.” Harry’s attention returns to you for a moment. “I’ll just be…” He gestures vaguely to the kitchen. You step out into the hall with India. Chowder meows from the crate in her arms and she almost drops him. “What,” you hiss, “was that?” She ignores your tone, then says your name like it’s a plea. “Call me if you need absolutely anything, or text me—no matter what time it is. I’ll drop everything and come straight to you.” “I’m sleeping two floors below where I usually do, Indy, I’m not dying.” “I know, I know… How’s a Skype dinner tomorrow night? I’ll order us a take away.” “Definitely.” You wish you could squeeze her in another tight hug, but Chowder’s crate impedes you. “Thank you.” “Love you, babe.” “Love you too.” She looks unsatisfied. “It’s going to be fine, I promise. Text me when we’re eating, okay?” You begin to walk backward into Harry’s apartment and blow her a kiss. “I will… Bye!” “Please don’t kill my cat!” You lean on the door frame, watching India’s silhouette shrink as she heads back down the hall to the lift with Chowder. You sigh and close the door, but as you turn around, your hand rushes to your chest in a gasp; Harry is standing just behind you, rubbing his face. “So I’ve just rung Annie while you were upstairs… ” He steps aside to give you a clear path through the hallway. “Oh?” “I’m sorry—they’re just coming,” he rushes, sounding a little panicked as you step into Sylvia's room. You set your phone and laptop down with the rest of your things. “They insisted ‘cause they’ve got a spare mattress, and I told them you needed a place to crash for a bit and also that you stayed here last night so… yeah. You don’t have to be here for that. When they come—oh, and they probably have Sylvia, too, if that’s… ” Harry trails off.” “Wait, I’m sorry.” You close your eyes and shake your head. “Annie? You mean—” “Sylvia’s mum, yeah, and um… her fiancé, AJ.” Harry tilts his head down, as if to gauge your reaction. “And they want to give… they have a spare mattress? But you already have a mattress.” “That’s what I said!” Harry gestures wildly. It must have been a lively phone call. “Oh, well that’s… awfully kind of them,” you begin, trying to keep up. “Would it be easier if I wasn’t—” “No.” He’s clearly surprised at his own volume as he cuts you off. Harry literally leans back, hesitating. “I mean… stay. They’d love to meet you. They’re my family and you’re…” His eyes flit back to yours and hang on. “You’re obviously gonna to be staying here a bit, and they drop by all the time so I jus’ don’t wanna overwhelm you, is all.” Suddenly, it’s your turn struggling to look at him. “Well, I—” “H, open the door! This is heavy!” a voice bellows from beyond the front door. Harry’s eyes shut momentarily. “Coming!” he calls. You stand there, in the doorway to Sylvia’s room, stunned at the pace with which this is all unfolding. Harry jogs to the door. You poke your head out as an explosion of noise disrupts what had before been so peaceful. A child’s high-pitched shriek rips through the flat, followed by a long, labored groan from Harry as Sylvia barrels into his arms and he crouches down to lift her. “How’s Daddy’s girl?” he greets. Sylvia simply continues screaming and tries to bend over backward out of his arms. “Hi, Harry.” A striking woman with jet-black hair waltzes in, carrying a large dish of food wrapped in tin foil, seemingly unphased. Harry shifts Sylvia to one arm, bending over to greet her in a side hug and quick kiss to the cheek. “Hi, love.” What appears to be a twin sized mattress with twig legs follows in suit, grunting softly. “Still heavy.” “Right, sorry.” Harry hands Sylvia off to who you assume is Annie as he hurries to take the mattress, revealing a second, much taller woman with sunglasses atop her blonde head of hair. She’s wearing red lipstick and bright suede pumps. “There we go,” she sighs. “I need a fag.” Harry almost takes out a light fixture as he hauls the bed. You press yourself up against the wall as he offers a quick, “S’cuse me,” and passes you to Sylvia's room. The two women look at you as simultaneous smiles light their faces. “Hi!” “Hello!” Sylvia waves at you, too. “Guess this one doesn’t need an introduction,” the dark-haired woman laughs, approaching with a hand extended. You notice that she’s the one wearing the ring. “I’m Annie.” “It’s great to meet you, Harry has spoken so highly of both of you.” You turn to the other woman after introducing yourself. “AJ.” One corner of her mouth quirks up. “It’s a pleasure.” “Thank you so much for the mattress, ” you begin, wringing your hands. “It seems like everyone’s done so much to help me in the past few days… It’s really meant a lot.” AJ tilts her head to look at you with a more meaningful gaze, and Annie steps forward to rest a hand on your forearm. “Harry hasn’t gone into a terrible amount of detail but… we’re so, awfully sorry for what’s happened to you.” She squeezes gently, her fingers in the crook of your elbow. The strange familiarity of the gesture disarms you. “I can’t imagine what you must be going through, and with your family so far away—I just… we heard about what was going on, and that was it. We had to help.” You nod and suddenly have trouble swallowing. There’s just something different about discussing this with women. “Harry’s air mattress,” AJ chips in, sardonic, “belongs in an incinerator.” “Hey!” His voice comes muted from the open door of Sylvia’s bedroom. Now that you’ve seen the both of them together up close, you realize how wrong you were in thinking that Sylvia only took after her father. Annie’s features are evident in her daughter’s deep, brown eyes, her nose, and the high angles of her cheeks. “Well,” Annie starts, raising her eyebrows at everyone, “we’re obviously feeding you.” You laugh in disbelief. “No you’re not!” “We are!” She smiles as she sets Sylvia down, who weaves through everyone’s legs to her bedroom. “And relax, it’s already cooked so there’s no use in turning it down.” AJ pulls you in for a side hug, which you were grossly unprepared for. “Thank… you.” In your bewilderment, it’s all you can manage to say as Annie removes the tin foil from a full pan’s helping of chicken and vegetables. “Isn’t this supposed to be tomorrow’s roast? The Sunday roast?” Harry appears in the kitchen with Sylvia on his hip. He frowns, poking his head over Annie’s shoulder as she preheats the oven. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she replies. They lock eyes. Something tender passes between them; part of you feels like you should look away. “Annie… ” Harry says, softer now. “You didn’t have to do all this.” She ignores him, setting the timer on the oven as AJ slides a small mountain of tupperware into the fridge. The kettle starts to scream. You hadn’t realized someone started tea. You’re not sure what to do besides stand by the sink and stare. AJ rushes over to fill four steaming mugs, portioning different amounts of cream and honey into each. She turns to the few stray dishes in the sink, beginning to wash. “AJ, stop tha—” “Harry, relax would you?” She whips his leg with a dish towel and he relents. “Why is she staying in my room?” Sylvia pipes up from Harry’s arms. He looks across the kitchen at you, and then down to her. “Well see, bug, Daddy’s got a friend who’s gonna stay here for a little while.” Harry points at you and twists so she has a better view. You wave your fingers at her, and Harry asks Sylvia if she can say your name, but she simply buries her face into his sweater. “Like a slumber party?” “Um—” Harry falters. “Sort of, but not quite.” “It’s a grown-up slumber party?” AJ chokes on her tea. The tips of Harry’s ears go crimson. “Honey, it’s like when Auntie Kristen comes over to Mummy and Mum’s to stay on holiday,” Annie salvages. Harry’s shoulders visibly relax. Sylvia tugs at the collar of Harry’s sweater. “How long?” she begs. Your heart falls. “‘M not sure, Vi.” Harry moves some hair from her face as she pouts, then kisses her forehead. “Not forever.” “This’ll be good for you, Harry. You need more friends.” Annie pinches Harry’s side before turning to you with a smirk. “Maybe you can finally start hanging out with people your own age.” You shrug to play along, pursing your lips against a smile. “I mean… ” “Harry doesn’t go out much.” Annie’s comedic whisper fills the room as she carries your tea over to you. “Neither do you!” Harry retorts, frowning playfully over his shoulder, attempting to smack her; she narrowly dodges. “Yeah, just the one time,” AJ deadpans, pointing between them and then nodding to Sylvia. “Jesus Christ,” Harry breathes before they break into laughter. You can’t help but join in. Sylvia’s head swings from parent to parent, smiling in oblivious delight. “Alright, alright,” Annie wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. “Just leave the roast in there until you’re ready to eat. We should get going soon.” “Have you got sheets that fit the bed?” Harry asks, bouncing Sylvia on his hip. “Right!” Annie’s eyes go wide. She turns to AJ, “Darling, you mind popping down to the car to get those?” “Since I already hauled up the mattress, am I allowed to play the gender card?” AJ throws eyes at Harry. “Hands are full,” he replies cheerfully. He holds one of Sylvia’s arms up to wave. “Fine,” she relents, plucking the keys from Annie’s back pocket. “Thank you!” Annie calls after her. AJ simply waves a hand behind her head. “Promise I’ll make it worth your while later!” AJ begins to walk faster. Harry shoots Annie a jokingly scandalized look with a hand covering his gaping mouth. She squints at him and rolls her eyes. He puts Sylvia down, whispering in her ear as he points to the miniature arts and crafts table in the living room. Sylvia takes a seat on the colorful stool, her tiny features already pinched in concentration as she finds a crayon and begins to draw. Harry crouches at her side, watching her for a moment before kissing the top of her head. He breezes past you before you hear the bathroom door lock shut and now it’s just you and Annie alone together. “I love Harry, but he’s a man and he doesn’t know anything.” You shouldn’t laugh, but you do. “We live ten minutes away. If you need anything at all—anything, I mean it, please call us. Mine and AJ’s mobile numbers are both on the fridge.” “Thank you, Annie.” She hesitates, playing absently with the tag of her tea bag before nodding to the living room. “Let’s sit.” You have a seat on the couch; Annie takes the small leather armchair on the other side of the coffee table. Her eyes are warm. You see a flash of that expression that had passed between her and Harry. “He is a good man.” Annie’s voice is so low, it’s almost a whisper. “One of the best I’ve ever met… You’re in good hands, I promise.” There isn’t a chance for you to respond as the sound of the faucet running in the bathroom interrupts. Harry re-enters the living room, his eyes flitting between yours and Annie’s with a curious look on his face. “Am I interrupting something?” “Course not, lovely. We’re just waiting for AJ with the sheets,” Annie replies. She must be killer at poker. AJ slips through the door with a folded bundle of checkered sheets nearly covering her face. “Miss me?” She perches on the armrest of Annie’s chair upon returning from Syvia’s room, an arm wrapped around her shoulders. You are acutely aware of the warmth of Harry’s leg against yours, suddenly too nervous to shift and potentially draw attention to it. Though you try hard not to, you can practically see the silent conversation happening between the three other adults in the room; if you had to guess, it’s probably about you. You categorically refuse to look at Harry, so you’re left with AJ’s nearly imperceptible eyebrow-raising, and a curl of Annie’s lip that seems to be a question and a confirmation all at once. The three of them are a little… too quiet. “Well we should be off then,” she says, drawing her hands together in a clap. “Someone needs a bath tonight.” Sylvia hurries over and locks her arms around Harry’s legs. He scoops her up like she weighs absolutely nothing. “C’mon now, angel,” he murmurs, glancing over his daughter’s head to look at you with a vaguely resigned expression. “Gonna see you tomorrow, aren’t I? Gotta be good for your mums.” Harry fixes Sylvia’s wobbling lower lip with a stern look. “Hey, now. What’s this about? S’not any different from Mummy’s normal turn with you, right? You know you’ve got too much love pumpkin, we gotta share ya.” Sylvia mumbles something too soft to make out; Harry ducks his head close. “Tell me?” You don’t catch all the words, except, “stars.” His face crumples a bit. “Oh honey, of course you’ll still have your bedtime stars. They’re not going anywhere. Nobody’s gonna take your stars.” “And that sounds like the beginning of a meltdown,” Annie says, standing quickly and pulling Sylvia from Harry’s arms. “Best be on our way before she tests all our eardrums.” Sylvia momentarily seems like she might reach back for him, but then she looks at you as though by accident, and shrinks back into her mother’s arms. Shame knots in your stomach as the two women head for the door. Sylvia peeks over Annie’s shoulder as AJ slings her purse over her arm with the car keys in hand. You busy yourself clearing the empty mugs of tea in some small attempt to give them privacy. “Come ‘round about six, yeah?” Annie says as AJ waves at you and disappears first out the door. Harry is sliding Sylvia’s arm through the second sleeve of her coat. His and Annie’s teamwork seems fluid and practiced. “Sounds good.” He tugs her tiny knit hat more securely over her curls. “Love you, bug.” “Hôn ba đi, Vi.” You have no idea what Annie’s just said to Sylvia but Harry leans forward to receive his daughter’s kiss, placing an audible one on her forehead in return. He says something else to Sylvia that’s not English. That deeply tender look in Annie’s face returns. Harry’s hand falls to her waist and she touches his jaw to place a quick peck at the corner of his mouth. “Call us if you need anything.” She turns back to you. “You too. Our numbers are—” “On the fridge,” you finish with a smile, waving. “Thank you, Annie.” Harry shuts the door behind them and the flat falls silent for the first time in what feels like ages. You hear him laugh once before he turns to you. “Sorry about that.” “No. Harry, I should be the one apologizing. Sylvia’s so upset, I feel awful.” Harry looks from you to the door and back again, shaking his head as he moves towards the kitchen. “Oh no, don’t worry about that. She was mostly tired, is all. Happens all the time.” He pauses before joking, “Sorry you had to hear my really terrible Vietnamese.” You watch as he begins to rifle through the cabinets. “What are you doing?” “I’m sure I left it in here somewhere—aha!” He holds an empty mason jar aloft before grabbing a sharpie and the magnetic pad of Hello Kitty sticky notes from the fridge door. Harry scrawls quickly, the cap of the pen between his teeth, before sticking a note on the glass and holding it up for you to read the big, block letters. APOLOGIES.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #utsr redux

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votederpycausemufins · 3 years ago

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next chapter of More Than One hahaha much angst in this chapter. at the very least i love angst with good endings!

@helleborusangel gets tagged for my writing, and yall can send asks if you want me to also tag you.

In the past day or so, Grum had done his best to research everything he needed. He had all his notes ready for what was still an unnamed war, but that’s normally how things started. Of course the hermits would choose sides, but based on what he knew about them so far, there were sides that were likely to form in similar ways to the mycelium war, with a few exceptions.

After that, he worked a bit more on his help for his daddy and catching him up on what he missed while sick. It didn’t take too long, as other hermits were able to do the same since he could move around, but Grum liked being able to help his daddy.

The other stuff didn’t need to be worked with too much, since if he compared everything to boxes or chests, that was mostly the junk chest. Or more likely miscellaneous. In other words, something that didn’t matter that much right now.

The last was everything with being a kid. Grum took his free time to research what kids normally did, see how Jrum acted, maybe read a few books on the topic, and he was pretty sure he had it down. Now today he was going to test out if he was right, and his first stop was in his Dad’s base.

Grum arrived at the basement of the mansion before taking the elevator upstairs, which was obviously the most fun option opposed to taking the stairs or flying, so he was off to a great start. The next stop was his dad’s closet, which was practically a room of it’s own. In researching, dress up was a common activity for kids, so this would be a perfect activity for him to do. Especially if it ended up in a mess that needed to be cleaned later. A mess he would need to refuse to clean at first of course. Jrum hated getting cleaned up after a redstone project, and other kids seemed to hate the job of cleaning up, or rather, the chore. Because kids got chores, not jobs.

For most of the clothes, they all better fit his dad, which made them too big on Grum, but that was supposed to add to the charm. He even started off with a well worn sweater that had been stretched a bit bigger than the others, really emphasizing the look. Once he put it on, the collar dipped a bit low, and the hem nearly reached his knees while the sleeves when unrolled draped over his hands. Looking in a nearby mirror, Grum couldn’t help but smile at how silly he looked.

Grum took the sweater off and went to hang it up before stopping himself and letting it lay on the floor, nodding in approval at the way the fabric lay on the ground in a messy fashion. His next choice was a black hoodie that was a similar side, but baggy near the bottom. Still, it didn’t quite feel right, so Grum tossed it aside.

He huffed a little while looking at all the clothes. While sure, he was smaller than his dad, the difference between him and his dad was much slimmer than him and his daddy, or Jrum and their dad. But then he spotted something that hung a bit lower on a hanger.

Walking over, Grum saw what was the same color as most of his dad’s sweaters, but more of a jacket or a robe. Putting it on, the fabric draped past his knees, and it was easy enough to wrap around him. Perfect. Reinvigorated by the nice find, Grum started going through the closet, putting the sweater jacket to the side and trying on a number of other outfits.

At first, Grum had been very methodical about the whole thing, but over the course of trying everything on, he sort of stopped treating it like a thing he had to do and actually just did it for fun. He was having so much fun in fact, he didn’t notice the clatter from outside, especially since nothing immediately came from it. But a few minutes later, he stopped when he heard someone speak.

“Jrum, is that you in there?” Grum heard his daddy ask, and couldn’t help but frown a little at the fact that it was assumed he was his brother.

“Nope. I’m Grum.”

“Oh. Well, what are you doing in there?”

“Playing dress up.” Grum replied, taking that as an opportunity to put on some shoes he found, which didn’t quite fit his feet, but it was fun to wear them anyway.

Mumbo said something a bit too quiet for Grum to hear, but then he stepped into the closet, trying not to step on any clothes. When he got close to Grum, the bot turned to look over at his Daddy with a smile, Mumbo chuckling a little at the way Grum was dressed. The bot had kept the cardigan sweater on, but underneath was a bright lime green tank top. Below that was a hot pink skirt that Mumbo recognized as belonging to ‘Ariana Griande’ and Grum was currently putting on the second in a pair of very woolly boots.

“Well, it certainly looks like you were having fun, but your dad was worried about you and I think you should let him know things are fine.”

Grum was a little disappointed, but reluctantly nodded. “Do I need to take everything off?”

“No, I think staying dressed up will help your case.”

It turned out staying in their outfit really did help Grum’s case. Grian was at first worried about something with robots and closets, but upon seeing Grum, the bot could barely explain themself before Grian lit up and cooed over how adorable Grum looked. He scrambled to get his comm out to take pictures while Grum smiled, their screen flickering a magenta color which neither of their dads managed to catch, and it was gone by the time Grian finally took some pictures.

From there, Grum was allowed to back in the closet and dress up a few more times, feeling themself smile more and more as their dads took pictures, and by the end, their dad offered to make some more outfits so they could have more to play with. Grum of course said yes, but then came the dreaded clean up, and they started work on that. They sighed when they started, and over time, Grum could feel it become less of a game and more of a chore for him, which was how it was planned, but he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.

After everything was all cleaned up, he mentally checked that off his list and looked at what was next. He didn’t know what his brother was up to, but he was hoping that playing pretend would be okay on his own. The hermits certainly seemed to come up with stories on their own, so he could do the same. Since Jrum always used Scar’s village, Grum tried to think of a different place, eventually settling on Cleo and Keralis’ city.

When he arrived in the city, Grum put down a shulker box and unloaded all his items into it, then put the shulker into his inventory. His whole goal was to make a story while walking the streets, which would hopefully be helped by the presence of the armor stands littered around. He looked around, trying to figure out where exactly to start from, eventually noticing the main road ending near the ferris wheel and deciding to start from there. Ideas ranged from a kid out on their own for the first time or one who was separated from their family. Eventually he settled on the first idea, not wanting to figure out being a worried child.

Grum took a moment to mess with his ‘boxes’ and ‘files’, then he walked over to the outdoor bar area and took a seat, looking around. The place wasn’t that populated, the area down the street having all the armor stands, so it was up to Grum’s imagination. He stared, half glaring at the empty spaces, willing for something to appear to help him along. But nothing happened, making him imitate a sigh. Well, time to figure it out.

He had gotten off the Ferris wheel. And then he came to this… empty stall… no not empty. The… the owner just had to step away for a lunch break, because they can’t eat their own food all the time. It would hurt profits. But the food was a balance in taste, portion and price, so Grum was willing to wait.

He actually waited a bit too long, forgetting about playing pretend, then he reminded himself and was served an invisible bowl of redstone, which he ‘ate’, then he was off to explore more of the city. He didn’t get that far before joining a pair of armor stands, pretending they were the ones taking him to visit the city.

Thinking of them as parents didn’t fit right, especially since they were outfitted with masks of two other hermits, who were definitely not his dads, but technically, he wasn’t Grum right now he was… Well, Grum looked between the masks of Cub and Stress. Maybe Cress? That sounded like an okay name to pretend with. Yeah, Cress was a kid growing up in the city with their dads- er, parents. And they took a trip today to the ferris wheel and now… Grum looked around before spotting one of the armor stands set up to look like they were trapped in webs, and remembered the superheroes. That was perfect. They- Cress- was going to see the heroes and get enamored and run off. So they did that.

They pretended that they were at first watching the villains get beat up by Spider-Cleo, then suddenly the super villains game in to fight her, getting it to a one on two situation. Almost as soon as they had thought of that, Grum noticed the darker clouds rolling in and the rumbling of thunder. It was a perfect mood change.

As the bot went through the streets, they couldn’t help but giggle a little at a spider managing to spawn in a darker area. Of course a spider army was being summoned to help fight the bad guys. Grum still needed to fight it off, but it was fun either way. Simply a mind controlled spider that was being turned.

Grum made their way East at the end of the street, passing by some people spray painting a wall with some familiar faces. Then after a bit more, they went South through a bit of a tunnel. The street didn’t have much on it, but obviously everything was pretty dangerous right now, so Cress was going to have to go from building to building to hide from the fighting if they wanted to keep watching.

The first building wasn’t that exciting since Grum took one look at the elevator and decided he didn’t want to go up that high. The next building seemed like some sort of office space, but it had big windows, so ‘Cress’ was glad to use those to watch the ‘battle’. The last building Grum almost missed, not being as fancy as the others and having normal wooden doors as an entrance. They still noticed it of course, but failed to look at the logo on top of it, or rather, the face, being too caught up in the game they were playing.

So Grum walked into the building, and was instantly bombarded by leftover posters from the election. Specifically for the Get Gorgeous campaign. Grum stood there, frozen as he looked between everything around them in the room. They tried to keep from panicking, screen flickering pink, but it was too much, and they ran out the door, a zombie or something from within the nearby walls making a noise that spooked the bot.

They ran out of the building, the first thing they noticed being the jungle in the distance. Just wanting to go home, they ran in that direction, only to get stopped at the end of a pier, a wall in the water ahead stopping them from making any progress. With the mix of their panic and the darkness from the storm, Grum thought they saw something out of the corner of their eye and ran the other way, back into the city, now worse than before.

At first, they were running right back to the building they just left, but then they took a sharp left turn down an alley. They passed one armor stand before seeing another, backlit in a horrible way that when Grum crashed into it, they looked up and screamed, once again running away. They took another turn to go down the labeled ‘Crime Alley’ before crashing into someone else, this time being grabbed. “Grum, what’re you doin’ ‘ere? Where’s Grian ‘n Mumbo? Where’re yer dads?”

Cleo was able to call Doc over quickly enough, him already meeting with Keralis. Mumbo showed up next, Grian apparently retrieving Jrum. After that were Iskall and Stress, Iskall being the most helpful in explaining what exactly he had done when messing with Grum’s circuits the first time around.

At first, Grum felt pushed on the sidelines, everyone talking about him and not to him. But while Doc was busy talking with Mumbo and Iskall, meaning Stress was also in a similar position. Because of that, after a few minutes, the bot scooted over to Stress.

“How’re you doin’ luv?” Stress asked when she noticed Grum, trying to sound positive, but Grum could tell she was worried, probably about him.

“Okay.” Grum answered. “I just got spooked by monsters, that’s all. I don’t know why everyone’s worried.”

“Well, you are still young. I’m sure it’s jus’ when Cleo called yer dads, they might’ve panicked as much as you were.” Stress explained, comforting Grum.

“I guess. But it’s just frustrating cuz I was just playing and now I’ve been stopped for… it feels like nothing.” Grum pouted. “Jrum never has to deal with stuff like this when he’s playing.”

Stress frowned just a little. “Well after he went missing, everyun reacted the same way luv. If I remember correctly, he was sorta grounded a bit after runnin’ off like that.”

Grum sighed, but then nodded. “I guess. But I didn’t just run away! I said where I was gonna be! And I can’t control the weather but I did well.” The bot argued, and then Stress tried to calm him a bit, pulling him in a hug. “I just wanted to play… why is that so bad?”

“It’s not luv.” Stress answered, only briefly moving away from the hug to shoo Doc from getting closer and upsetting the bot even more.

“Can we just go home?” Grum then spoke up, making Stress look towards Mumbo to see what he thought. Then, before anyone could say more, Grum quickly spoke again, throwing everyone off. “Please Mum?”

Grum crept towards his dad’s room, hoping he could wake one of them up to cuddle with after his nightmare. Ever since the incident at the city followed by what happened with Stress, things had gotten seemingly worse. Doc was constantly over to talk with Grum’s dads. Stress too sometimes, though more infrequently. Etho also seemed to stop by here and there, conversing about redstone, specifically Grum’s internal workings.

All the events and talks and whatnot didn’t help Grum, the bot being kept in the dark to the point he started eavesdropping, wanting some clue on what was going on, why everyone was acting as scared as he felt. And the stress from that led to nightmares which ended up making things worse. So now he was hoping that maybe he could wake up one of his dads and have some way to calm down.

But instead it didn’t seem he would have to, as when Grum approached the door, he could hear them talking. It made him hesitate for a moment, not wanting to interrupt them, but this was sort of important. And it wasn’t as if he hadn’t already started listening into conversations. Maybe what they were talking about would be enough to help. Or instead, as Grum started listening, it could make it worse.

“-what would you suppose we tell Jrum?” Though he was speaking quietly, Grum recognized his daddy’s voice as the one talking.

“I don’t know!” his dad replied, sounding upset, voice in a harsh whisper. “Maybe we just turn him off too!”

Turn him off? Too? Were Grum’s dads planning to… to shut him off for good? Is that what everyone kept visiting about?

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do! Grum’s already breaking, so it’s only a matter of time before the same happens with Jrum, and the end of the season is so close. No one would notice if we didn’t bring them along.”

Grum was frozen in place. Sure, things seemed like a mess to him, but… but he was a kid. It couldn’t actually be that bad. He was just overreacting and the Hermits would be able to help. Should be able to help. But instead they were going to, what? Get rid of the problem? And then get rid of Jrum as well? “Grian, you know the Hermits would notice.”

“Then we make an excuse. Maybe we just send them away instead so no one can find out.” And Grum just stared at the door. They didn’t want it. They were going to throw it out. Make it someone else’s problem. And even hearing all of this, it just felt numb, all the panic and worry gone and filled with… nothing.

Mumbo said more, but Grum didn’t listen any more. Just turned around and walked back. Past the bedroom and down the hall. If it wasn’t wanted. It would leave. Easy as that. It did gather simple supplies. An old diamond sword, some gold boots and a number of rockets to use with its replacements for elytra.

After a bit of hesitation, it also gathered a large amount of charged redstone. Grum didn’t need to eat, but it needed to stay charged, so with a lack of a mobile charger, the special redstone would work as a substitute. Plenty of supplies for a long journey.

The elevator down to the basement was too loud, so Grum simply walked outside and down the main steps. It went through the main portal there, and trekked to the main portion of the nether hub, reaching the section just below bedrock and starting on the East tunnel before heading North. The same direction that Jrum had a while ago on his adventure.

Using about a dozen rockets, Grum found itself in the upside down, the furthest in the nether it was aware that the hermits had gone, at least in terms of with created pathways. In the mirrored version of the mansion, a portal was already created, giving Grum access back to the overworld, and into a village on the other side.

It was still night of course, the villagers asleep and the iron golem of the place keeping the place protected. Grum stared at it for a moment, thinking about how it had much more use than itself, wondering if it would do better to stay and assist. But no. As long as Grum were defective, the Hermits might come looking for it, which they could while active. So if Grum was doing to decide one last thing, it would be when it shut down.

The robot looked at its supply of six remaining rockets. Those would dictate how far it would go. And then it would find a cave, and turn off for good. After using the first rocket to help take off, Grum started gliding, knowing that based on the conditions when flying, the boost of a single rocket could last virtually indefinitely. A few mountains as well as weather in the area changed the conditions for the worse, but Grum still got pretty far, going directly North for so much of the journey.

When down to two rockets, Grum suddenly went east, knowing that after such a long straight path, a sudden curve would be completely impossible to find. After that, it was just looking for a place to finally stop, Grum using the final rocket to reach a floating island with a single tree and two sheep.

Grum dug into the dirt under the tree, making a place to stay, even using its sword to chip at the stone to get deeper. Then Grum used the dirt to block up most of the way in, though still giving a way to view the landscape ahead. It checked the coordinates, seeing that they were North 22,936 blocks from the shopping district, where the center of the world stood. No way to be found as long as they were on. And so. Grumbot turned itself off.

Jrum woke up early, as if knowing was something was wrong to begin with. With everything that had been happening with his brother, he had had to be the more responsible one. Having to do that made him glad that he didn’t need to do it all the time, but also wonder if Grum had to deal with something so exhausting himself and that helped explain what was going on. It was probably something to bring up to their dads. Well, maybe later, because there was something a little more important right now.

Even though it was so early, Grum wasn’t in bed and connected to his charger. Jrum unplugged himself to check his brother’s charger, worried to see that it was cold from disuse. It wouldn’t be that cold if he had woken up early, so he either hadn’t used it last night or stopped in the middle of the night.

That fact wasn’t entirely concerning. Grum had already had night where a nightmare left him with their dads. So there was a good change that had simply happened again. But for some reason, Jrum couldn’t shake the thought that something was wrong, so instead of going back to bed, or finding a book to read to pass the time or something else, he got up and walked to their dads’ room and knocked on the door. And Jrum was very glad he did when the response from behind the door was ‘Who is it?’

“It’s Jrum. Is Grum in there? He’s not in bed.” The bot asked, and there was a moment of silence before frantic movement came from the other side of the door. Grian opened the door, having already thrown his sweater on while Mumbo was quickly buttoning his shirt.

“What do you mean Grum’s not in bed?” Grian asked as Jrum scanned the bedroom in case somehow his brother was there with no one realizing it.

“I mean he’s not in bed. His charger’s cold and everything. I thought he would be here because of that.”

Before Grian could ask anything more, Mumbo spoke up, communicator in hand and elytra on even though he hadn’t put in his blazer or tie. “Grum’s offline. He’s not even appearing on the world list. We need to go see Xisuma. I’ve already sent something in chat.”

“Wait but where was he last?�� Grian asked, knowing the system they had on the bots should be helpful in a situation like this.

“It’s just giving an error, which is why I want to see X right away. Jrum, do you want to stay here or come with us?”

Jrum looked between his dads, quickly thinking it over. If the roles were flipped, what would Grum do? Well, he didn’t need to think too hard. It had already happened. And Grum had stayed at home in case he came back while their dads were looking. “I’m gonna stay here, just in case.”

Grian nodded and then gave Jrum a long tight hug until Mumbo was pulling him away to leave. It seemed a little odd to Jrum, assuming they were just worried about him. He didn’t know that both his dads had a very good idea of what might have happened and when Grum disappeared.

Mumbo and Grian were resting after plenty of searching. They had visited Xisuma and told him about what happened, at least what they knew of everything. He agreed to look into it while the pair joined the other hermits in looking for Grum, the admin confirming there was nothing that showed the bot had left the world.

The two had searched for a while until Grian managed to injure his wing. While he was still physically fine to fly, Mumbo could tell the same couldn’t be said for mentally, so they returned to Grian’s base to rest. Grian kept trying to go back out searching, eventually admitting he needed something to keep his mind away from the thought it was all his fault.

Mumbo did his best to comfort Grian, giving him reassurances, when there was a knock on the bedroom door. “Do either of you have a moment?” It was Xisuma’s voice, which made Mumbo smile slightly and look back at Grian.

“See, that didn’t take far too long. I’m sure he’s found Grum. You stay here while I talk with him and I’ll find out what’s going on.” And Mumbo gave one more comforting hug before leaving the room hopefully, before his expression fell at Xisuma’s. “What’s wrong? I’m assuming you found Grum. Is he hurt?”

The admin shook his head. “I don’t know. That’s the thing. I can’t find him. I’ve checked and… well, it’s something you should see for yourself.” and he took off his helmet, which surprised Mumbo, who knew the admin needed it to breathe.

Before the redstoner could say more, the helmet was put on his own head and Xisuma was pressing a button on the side of the helmet. The list of people in the world appeared, Grum’s name missing from the list, then another button and the screen projected on the inner visor flashed red. After reading the words a few times, Xisuma pulled the helmet back, but Mumbo was still left comprehending the text.

/search information Minecraft:player_name{Grumbot} Error: Player does not exist

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft season 7 #hermitcraft au #grumbot #mumbo jumbo #grian #avian!grian #jrumbot #zombie cleo #docm77 #iskall85 #stressmonster101 #xisuma #xisumavoid

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k-llama-llama · 4 years ago

Text

Coached

TXT AU: 6th member

Sara x TXT

Sara is recruited to be a guest coach for ENHYPEN

A/N: sorry that this one is late! Please check out my PATREON (patreon.com/kllamallama) for exclusive posts you can’t get anywhere else, as well as lots of other cool benefits!

Requests are OPEN

Masterlist and other Follow Me links in bio!

“Are you sure I’m the one you want for this?” Sara asked again, hesitating outside the door.

“Yes, we’re sure.” The staff member laughed. “You’re going to be fine.”

“I know…but you have like actual vocal coaches and stuff and you want me to help?”

“For the show. Now, let us introduce you. Remember everything will be filmed for their variety show, okay?”

“Okay.” Sara stepped away from the door, letting the staff member duck in. She tried to picture what was inside. The staff member, a manager or two, a camera crew, and the seven boys who would soon debut as ENHYPEN.

Who she was about to coach.

“Today we’re going to be focusing on vocals.” The staff member began, and she heard the boys murmur amongst themselves. “So we’ve brought in one of Bighit’s most accomplished vocalists to train with you.”

She heard more murmuring, including some that sounded like they were guessing it was Jungkook or Jimin. She hated to disappoint them when it was revealed that it was just her. She glanced down at her outfit again, making sure she looked okay. The stylists had picked it for today, so she was wearing a pair of skinny jeans that she would never normally wear, a white tank top and an oversize striped cardigan.

“So let’s meet them, shall we?”

Sara figured that was her cue and opened the door, peeking her head in.

The reaction was instant, with the boys cheering and clapping. Though she was sure they were overexaggerating for the cameras, she still smiled brightly and waved with both hands as she stepped into the room.

“Introduce yourself.” The staff prompted as Sara came to stand in front of the boys, the line of cameras facing them.

Sara bowed. “Hello, I’m TXT’s Sara! It’s nice to meet you all.”

“Hello, we are ENHYPEN!” The boys did their greeting and bowed.

“It’s an honour to meet you.” One of the boys, she thought his name was Heeseung, said.

Sara gave a little laugh. “That’s really nice of you. I’ve watched your journey through the show, and I’m really looking forward to all of your debut.”

“Please read this off.” The staff handed a card to Sunghoon, and they all turned to face the cameras as he read.

“We will now have the opportunity to train with Bighit’s technically strongest vocalist. The song we preselected will be what we use, and Sara-Sunbaenim will provide tips and coaching on how we can become stronger vocalists.”

“What song have you all pre-selected?” Sara asked, even though she was fully aware of what song it was.

“We’ve selected Eyes, Nose, Lips by Taeyang.” The boys said.

Sara nodded happily. “That’s a very good song. It required a lot of vocal control, but it’s one of my favourites. If you’re all ready, let’s get started!”

“AND CUT!” The director called. “Alright, we’ll take a short break and set up in the recording studio.”

The staff broke off, leaving Sara standing awkwardly in front of the boys.

She gave another little bow, which they all returned enthusiastically. “I meant what I said. I watched I-Land and I really am looking forward to your debut.”

“Really?” Ni-Ki exclaimed. “You actually watched it?”

“Of course I did.” Sara laughed. “I’m excited to have a junior group.”

“Thank you so much, Sunbae!” They all bowed again, and she considered whether she should tell them to stop doing that.

“I am sorry that I’m your vocal coach, though.” She apologized.

“What, why?” Jungwon’s eyes widened.

“Well, I heard some of your guesses earlier and I’m afraid I’m nowhere near as exciting as any of them.”

“But you’re better!” Jay protested, before being smacked by one of his friends. “I mean….of course all of the Bighit vocalists are talented, but you’re famous for your vocals.”

Sara smiled, blushing slightly. “That’s sweet. Thank you.”

“You…that was your focus during training, right?” Sunoo asked.

Sara nodded. “I’m still not the best dancer, I afraid. I spent my years of training before I was paired with TXT focusing on vocals. I think the original plan was to debut me as a ballad singer, but I much prefer being with the group.”

“Were you always good at singing?” Heeseung asked. “Is that why you originally joined the company?”

Sara shrugged. “I had to train a lot to get up to the standard. But it was always what I wanted to be good at.”

“Have you ever coached before?” Ni-Ki asked. “Not…to be rude. I’m just wondering.”

“I haven’t.” Sara admitted. “Which is why…again…I’m sorry that I’m the guest coach you got stuck with.”

“We’re excited!” Jungwon promised. “Your performance on King of Masked Singer was legendary.”

“You guys saw that?” Sara smiled.

“Didn’t it hit some kind of viewing record?” Sunoo asked. “Like for a female idol?”

“It might have.” Sara tugged at the sleeves of her sweater. “Either way, thank you guys for being so welcoming. I hope that I can help you in some way, and at least make this into an entertaining episode.”

“We can’t wait.” Sunghoon promised.

“And!” Sara exclaimed, suddenly remembering her own surprise. “I’m going to take you all out for dinner after shooting finishes.”

“Really?”

“Really.” She nodded. “I mean…if you want to.”

“We’d love to.” Ni-Ki grinned. “Free food and all.”

“I should also warn you guys before we start rolling again. I have a habit of being a bit of a mom. So don’t take it too personally if I get a little stern.”

“Is it true that you used to scold Jungkook-sunbaenim?”

Sara winced. “Um, mostly by accident. But yes, I’ve been known to slip up and try to keep things in order.”

The boys looked a little intimidated.

“But I won’t be mean to you!” She promised. “I mean…not too much. And I’ll buy you food at the end so it’ll be worth it.”

“Okay, is everyone ready to shoot?” The director called.

Sara gave the boys a little thumbs up as they were signaled that cameras were rolling.

“Alright, so who wants to go first?” She asked.

#txt #txt imagines #txt au #txt 6th member #female kpop #female member kpop #female!kpop #requests open #au #kpop #imagines #imagine #kpop au #kpop imagines #kpop imagine #enhypen #enhypen imagines

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af-answers · 4 years ago

Note

This is a question for Minerva and Artemis, since October's almost over. What's your favorite part about the fall season and why?

Artemis: Your punctuality, Mod, is as impeccable as ever.

Mod: Just answer the question.

Artemis: I suppose it’s the change from summer wear to sweaters and cardigans. I do enjoy the chill better than heat.

Minerva: The leaves are lovely, of course, and though I don’t wait on the seasons for what I eat and drink, spiced teas are much more satisfying in autumn.

Mod: Aw, thank you so much, @eldewind-dolly.

Minerva: Ah, a difficult question. I enjoy Jeux d'Eau for its ability to so completely capture the truth of its subject matter in sound, as well as the fourth movement of Miroirs for its complexity and technical skill. Ravel truly had a deep faith in the pianist.

Artemis: As far as classical, the Romantic composer William Vincent Wallace was quite prolific, and I enjoy his piano pieces. As for contemporary, Jerome de Bromhead rides the line of almost-hard-to-listen-to-but-not-quite with his orchestral pieces which is fascinating.

Artemis: Boredom, @lovemybooks0626, a way to entertain my ailing mother at the time, and a desire to understand other’s emotions.

#artemis fowl #minerva paradizo

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writing-fool · 4 years ago

Text

mlqc | sunday morning

I recently (well~like three months ago) got into this game called Mr Love: Queen’s Choice, and after doing some ‘research’ aka gaming, I felt confident enough to write something. So, here’s a little headcanon about a blissful Sunday morning with the boys~

Warning(s): ever so slightly NSFW (insinuations of a dirty-minded author), profanity/swearwords

Victor

Victor’s quite the workaholic, as we all know

like this man will be working 60-70 hours a week, often bringing work home with him

you’ll be on the couch in pajamas and acting like a total bum while he’s literally next to you wearing glasses and breezing through 50 reports and documents

you steal his laptop and glasses when he starts criticising your report

“Victor noooooooo~work mode OFF!” as you zoom past him with his prescription glasses (he got them fancy glasses with the blue light filter because he’s A WORKAHOLIC and he’s always staring at a computer)

needless to say, this man doesn’t usually have time to spare

sunday mornings are yours though

Victor doesn’t necessarily take the entire day off, but after a certain dummy’s whining, he has agreed to try and have a lie-in on sundays

he *usually* still wakes up before you, because he functions on like 5 hours of sleep (lemme tell y’all, it’s a curse and a blessing in one)

Vic’s a total tsundere, but these moments definitely show off his #SoftCEO side

his little lovebug is sleeping peacefully, wearing one of his pyjama shirts (I bless you with the headcanon that Victor sleeps in silk pyjama pants sans shirt because he runs HOT)

actually, you’re drooling a little bit but even though Victor’s going to pretend he’s annoyed, he never is

oOOhh, also canon that this man is the big spoon in sleeping positions. he naturally gravitates towards you and holds you tight because he’s NEEDY

sometimes you’ll sleep facing each other. Victor holds you against his chest and just cradles your body in his like his life depends on it

100% will entangle his long ass legs with yours

strokes your hair and presses kisses on the crown of your head to wake you up in a gentle way (despite his demeanour, he’s actually remarkably gentle y’all see why i call him #SoftCEO?)

as you wake up, he’ll mock your bedhead with this incredibly fond look in his eyes baby boy these words don’t match your actions

you guys actually get up rather soon after, cos you are both busy people...

fun times in the bathroom not like tHAT well actually kinda~ but for legal reasons everything you do is PG, please spare author-nim who’s still ~barely~ underage

you take a shower and belt your favourite song that’s playing from the built-in speaker (did Victor get a built-in speaker because you thought it was cool? yep. did you ask? nope. did he do it anyways? yehep.) while he goes through his simple morning routine

you probably have more steps in your skincare routine, but he uses a serum, cleanser, moisturizer and some eye cream on the daily

has given you permission to do his skincare at night whenever you both have time

to reciprocate, he dries your hair after your shower you guys HAVE listened to the Right Beside You ASMR, right? ...it’s on YT for free because we’re poor, i know

also canon, blowing raspberries on Victor’s bare back while he’s brushing his teeth will make him choke on toothpaste. tested and approved by MC

“Dummy. What on earth are you doing?”

he hangs around and waits for you to get ready if he’s already done, you do the same. time is something Victor knows all too well, so the precious time he has, he wants to spend with you.

you guys DON’T shower together in the morning because really you’re not getting cleaner ahhh author-nim should really stop

afterwards, you get dressed in some relatively casual clothes (i’m talking a dress shirt without a tie or a polo shirt because no way that this man owns actual t-shirts) and have a simple breakfast

he cooks, obviously.

always makes a balanced, Chinese breakfast (congee or wonton, noodles, tofu pudding, etc.) because he wants you two to start the day well, even on a slow sunday

also, he travels a lot, so he likes eating Chinese food whenever he’s home

ahh...waking up with Victor just sounds like a dream

Lucien

i’m a bit biased on this bitch because he was my first favourite in the game so this might get long. might not. just,,,we’ll see

Lucien is a bit like Victor, where he doesn’t sleep much and works a lot

On the other hand, his work is...ehem...shadier, so he usually works in his office when he’s at home

you’ll both have your own space to do whatever you need to do

days off for Lucien are rare. he usually powers through until he drops

for someone who constantly reminds you to take care of yourself, he’s mediocre at doing exactly that

after getting to know him better, which wasn’t an easy feat because damn this man has more layers than an onion he’ll also make you cry more bUUT we’re not ready to unpack that suitcase, you start noticing when he needs a day off. often even before he notices

you lock his office door and force him to take the FULL day off at least

he could technically open his office again, but he loves you and he’ll humour your attempts

Lucien wakes up before you. always. you’ve seen him asleep like 3 times in your entire relationship.

Luci sleeps like 8 hours,,,a week.

he watches you sleep i feel like that makes too much sense for his character. we love a creepy boy. and wholeheartedly feels at rest with your sleeping figure by his side

in his sleep, Lucien lies on his back, holding you by the waist as you sleep on top of him. your leg is often slung around his middle, so you’re enveloping him. he likes the weight of you on top of him; it keeps him grounded and he likes feeling like he’s yours as much as you are his.

on another note, Lucifer—ah whoops—sleeps butt naked. i honestly can’t imagine him wearing clothes in bed. he’s not shy about his body and feels absolutely no need to cover up for his significant other.

you, however, don’t usually sleep naked. well...nowadays you end up sleeping naked more often than not because alright author-nim’s horrible. can’t help it, he’s a fucking scorpio?

because you guys take a day off, Lucien’s content with waiting and watching until you wake up

he feels you stir on his chest and honestly your drowsy eyes make him swoon

“Already awake, my beautiful butterfly?”

his slightly husky morning voice *really* does things to a person tbh

you guys stay in bed for a good half hour after you wake up, just cuddling and talking, also sneaking in a kiss here and there

you have the same habit of tracing each other’s bodies with your fingertips

his fingers flutter over your waist, you trace his chest or hands with your index again, it’s a very grounding experience to Lucien

when you do get up and head to the bathroom, first thing you do is shower together

he likes washing your hair

bathroom bits might happen, but surprisingly, it’s not a thing that happens a lot so don’t come at me. we’re being wholesome

Lucien’s incredibly intimate and his love language is touch. Yes, he has a way with words but he’s also a really good manipulator

he’s used his words for evil too often and therefore can’t trust words anymore. so he uses physical intimacy as a way to show love.

Lucien has a skincare routine of dermatologically approved products. a double cleanse, serum, essence and moisturizer. he uses anti-age sometimes to prevent later wrinkles.

they’re also one of the reasons why he smells clean and fresh

will tickle you when you’re rinsing your mouth. you’ve sprayed water all over the bathroom mirror before. he loves the reaction.

if you’re having a day off, you’ll probably just wear sweatpants and a t-shirt or a sweater. Lucien’s closet is relatively plain but clean. he has the best cable-knit sweaters/cardigans though.

your breakfast consists of western things like yogurt or oatmeal. Lucien likes having fruit at the start of the day

the rest of the day is spent relaxing and lounging, walking in the park, biking, reading, drawing, whatever you’d like

maaan...i wish i had more days off

Gavin

Gavin’s actually a decently laid-back person on weekends

like, sure he has to work a lot, but his job doesn’t necessarily force him to work from home, so you pretty much have his full attention at home but also he can’t bear to not give you his full attention so what are we expecting

the nasty thing about Gavin being a police officer is that sometimes, he gets called up and needs to work at unconventional hours

also, he gets injured. most of his injuries are minor, but that doesn’t stop you from worrying.

but anyways, he’s not a total busy bee when he’s at home, and relaxing isn’t exceptional

sunday mornings are...well...active. Birdcop goes on a run/hits the gym every morning, so he’s awake by 6am. what did y’all think i was going to write

afterwards, he takes a quick shower and joins you in bed again.

Gavin sleeps in a pair of basketball shorts and a singlet. he’s somewhat shy about sleeping shirtless, and god forbid he sleep naked. but it’s all good and he respects your boundaries. besides, he’s comfortable in his sleep and that’s all that matters.

you spoon in your sleep. sometimes, he’s the big spoon because he likes being able to ‘protect’ you in his sleep. other times, he relishes in the comfort of being the little spoon and feeling you pressed up against his back.

very important headcanon! you’ve learnt to sleep with the bedroom window open. on workdays, Gavin gets home late and jumps right into the bedroom. it’s become a typical habit for you two, although you used to be grumpy about not being able to sleep with the noises of traffic.

you’re usually awoken by the sound of the shower and Gavin’s humming it’s canon that he hums now, bitches. also I bet his singing voice is amazing

so it’s less ‘sleeping in’ and more ‘lounging in bed like the lazy bastards you are’ i’m kiDDING

if he’s able to, Gavin might convince you to go on a run with him....but let’s be honest, you rarely agree

Gavin’s a total cuddlebug though, so be prepared to spend the next forty-five minutes in the tightest hug ever (to be fair, you’re not complaining)

he’s completely soft for you and you’ll have to wrestle out of his grip to get to the bathroom

you don’t shower in the morning, so everything’s pretty quick

Gavin doesn’t actually have a good skincare regiment tbh...he’ll slap on some cream and that’s it. probably washes his face in the shower with body wash...AND HIS SKIN STILL LOOKS AMAZING

you like making funny faces in the mirror while brushing your teeth and making Gavin laugh while he’s watching you in the doorway. he loves how you just make his day with the smallest things.

you guys both dress in really casual clothing, like hoodies and shorts/sweatpants/pj pants unless you’re going somewhere

Gavin has them grey sweatpants, if you know what I mean okay I’ll chill, sorry~

you wear his shirts a lot because they’re super big on you and Gavin secretly not-so-secretly thinks you’re adorable in them (a good thing about Gavin is that he’s easy to read; he blushes rather quickly)

“Ahh...it’s just—you look so tiny and cute.” guess he’s not the only one blushing now

i see Gavin as a ‘bun for breakfast’ kind of person. he picks them up at the stall a couple of miles away when he heads home. sometimes he does so running, other times...well he’s not called Birdcop for nothing

you guys have 2 buns each for breakfast because they’re delicious

lounge time is often spent gaming or cleaning the house (you’re both busy people and Gavin tends to get messy because he just chucks clothes on the floor after a hard workday)

you make the most out of your sunday, hoping Gavin doesn’t get called in

who wouldn’t like being domestic with Gavin?

Kiro

Kiro, unsurprisingly, has an incredibly busy schedule

one that, similar to Gavin, isn’t really decided by himself

i suppose his situation is a tad bit worse than Birdcop’s, since his workdays don’t even actually end when he gets home. he constantly practices choreos, singing, etc. at home

so, full days off are few and very, very far between

this makes them extra precious

it helps to have a lazy morning once in a while though (in Kiro’s case, lazy sundays are most likely a bi-weekly thing)

you wake up first! Kiro needs his beauty sleep, and damn this boy can knock in 16 hours of sleep if need be

you’ll probably lay in bed for a while and then attempt to get up and ready for the day

until...you feel Kiro’s arm tugging you back

for a skinny, lithe boy, he’s remarkably strong. he pulls you back to bed with the groggiest, cutest sleep-laced voice EVER

“Mmm, Miss Chips, it’s not time to wake up yet, is it?”

he snuggles into you and refuses to wake up unless you give him kisses

during the night, Kiro sleeps in actual pyjamas with cute characters on them. when he feels lazy, he’ll probably just slip on a t-shirt and some boxer shorts, but he likes putting in the effort to wear matching couple pyjamas

Kiro cuddles with you 24/7, and sleep makes little difference here. he’s often the little spoon because he does like feeling your presence and your grip on him. he moves around when sleeping, so you might end up out of each other’s embrace, but Kiro subconsciously always touches you in some way or form, like holding hands or intertwining legs. he’s a man with many identities and needs your presence as a reassurance that he’s still the man that you love

he loves to pepper your face with kisses after getting home from rehearsals/concerts, claiming that it gives him energy

you do the same in the morning, anything to hear that sweet giggle of his

he’s deceptively cute though, and innocent morning kisses tend to spiral into...something more let’s just be honest, his stamina is something else entirely i’M SORRY

morning exercise? check. Hotel? Trivago. non-sponsored~

you guys don’t shower in the morning. Kiro’s used to showering after practice, which is late at night, and you shower in the evenings to help you relax

however, on a rare occasion, you’ll draw a nice bath together and play around with bubbles and scented bath bombs so fun and relaxing

Kiro totally has a 14-step skincare regiment. you don’t get that beautiful baby-smooth skin without some effort.

he has the best ‘mid-range to high-end’ products on the market, and loves sweet and floral scents for his skincare and makeup. you guys try to line up each other’s routines to be able to do them together every morning.

Kiro also has a huge bedhead in the morning! it’s your job to get this sleepyhead styled for a fun day

even Kiro’s casual loungewear is top-notch hip and trendy. he has fun sweatpants with chains, belts, patches, you name it. he likes holding a little fashion show with you, no matter what you two are wearing

old jeans? strut it. thrifted shirt? vogue, honey.

Kiro’s on a strict diet, so usually he has a smoothie and some tofu pudding for breakfast. on occasion, you’ll indulge him in something decadent, like French toast or pancakes. on moments like these, you swear he loves you juuuuuust a little more but don’t tell Savin!

you guys are a relatively active couple, so unless you’re inside gaming or busy working, you’ll spend some time in thrift stores or karaoke bars, arcades, fun fairs,...

just thinking about Kiro brightens my day...

As always, I hope you enjoyed reading this! I’ll try to bring out more content for K-Pop idols, otome characters and anime characters during the holidays. Requests are still open, so don’t be afraid to send a little message in my ask-box!

Love,

#mlqc #mlqc lucien #mlqc fanfic #mlqc imagine #mlqc kiro #mlqc gavin #mlqc victor #xu mo #li zeyan #zhou qilou #bai qi #mlqc headcanon #mr love #love and producer #evol x love #lucien #kiro #victor #gavin

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confusedhost-archive · 4 years ago

Text

Red Has Always Been My Favorite Color

@kiingz made a post, and the tags said #i do be shipping carmen and roman because of the projection And so, obviously, I had to write something so I can finally make content again. Carmen is @nachosforfree‘s oc for Nico’s sides, as seen here! (I have just learned that technically Ender and Elliot/@iridescentmolars came up with Carmen, but how he looks is in the linked post)

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Summary: Thomas isn’t the only person that falls in love at the mall. But, as a side, dealing with love is a lot harder than it is for humans. So Roman looks for the perfect moment to talk to this crimson cutie. Also called the 4 times Roman saw Carmen and the 1 time he did something about it

Ships: Nico’s creativity (Carmen) and Thomas’ light creativity (Roman), background Intrulogical

Warnings: Swearing, ask to tag!

Ao3

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The first time Roman saw him was across the food court at the mall.

Roman could wax poetry of a faux setting and a romantic mood as much as he liked, but his first sighting of this new special someone was no where near as exciting. The truly exhilarating experience was the one he felt in his chest when the man turned around, adjusted his gold rimmed glasses and gave him a sweet smile.

Roman was lovestruck.

He assumed so, at least, as a rhyme fell from his lips and Thomas turned to stare in confusion. It certainly made sense, he decided, as the man in the pink cardigan tilted his head delicately and whispered something into his host’s ear.

He wanted to be lovestruck, that much he knew. He wanted something like his brother’s, something more than the tug at his heartstrings that he felt every time Thomas fell for a new guy. He wanted love because it felt right.

So he locked eyes with the man in the pink sweater while Thomas tried the same. He wiggled his eyebrows and tried to get a point across as Thomas dropped his head into his hands. He grinned in satisfaction as he got his new crush to laugh, and felt a warmth in his chest grow, a feeling that was beautiful and powerful, and felt much better than the bare scraps of love Thomas’ crushes let him feel.

“Talk to him!” Roman would hum, hoping the interaction would get him closer.

“Just walk up!” He huffed as Virgil pushed Thomas away.

And perhaps it was selfish, to want Thomas to spend time with someone just because of the pretty boy that came with him, but Roman felt something so pretty bubble up in him when the side so much as glanced his way, and he thought that maybe - maybe - he’d let himself be selfish this one time.

Then Thomas went to the washroom and stared at himself and talked and spoke from his heart and everything Roman and Virgil has asked him to do and Roman felt something else, so unlike the feeling he’d become used to, build up in his chest that hurt so, so, so much more than it should’ve, and he wondered if he was doing something wrong.

A man came out of the washroom stall, and Thomas lied, and Roman felt the lump in his throat grow.

Virgil got upset, and Thomas was rude, and Roman felt his eyes prick with tears.

Thomas’ crush - Nico, they learned - was alone now. No handsome man in gold rimmed library glasses and a pink sweater and a sun stitched onto his breast.

Thomas and Nico sat down to talk, and Roman felt his heart sing with Thomas’ love.

It was far more dull of a song than he remembered.

The second time Roman saw Pretty Pink was when Thomas and Nico went on their first proper date. It was a simple date, only a walk along a trail in the cold afternoon. It was fall now (Or “Halloween: The month,” as Virgil had dubbed it), and the leaves were slowly changing color, giving a lovely new look to the trail’s normally green and brown theme.

“It’s prettier now,” Logan said, curled up on the side of the couch, a heavy blanket tossed over him.

Roman nodded from the kitchen as Virgil made a noise of vague agreement from his spot lying face down on the other half of the sofa.

Roman brought himself over to the living room, mug of hot chocolate warming his hands, and kicked Virgil’s thigh lightly.

“Move,” he hummed, bringing the mug to his lips and taking a loud, if not impatient sounding sip (Virgil likely wasn’t paying much attention, so it likely hadn’t gotten across, but it was the thought that counted).

Virgil turned to look at him, eyebrows raised. “Sit,” he said, getting a bit more comfortable. “I really need the weight.”

Roman shrugged and plopped himself down onto Virgil’s lower back and crisscrossed his legs.

He looked at the tv screen, with it’s wonderful view of the beautiful trees and Thomas’ very focused view of Nico and his red face (Roman liked to think it was because Thomas had made him blush with a smooth line, but his whole was a terrible flirt, so it was far more likely to be from the cold).

Something danced just out of Thomas’ vision though, and Roman furrowed his brows and took a quick sip of his hot chocolate-

-and nearly spit it out when Rainbows and Sunshine stepped into frame. He looked exactly the same as he did last time Roman saw him, except this time he was closer, and as such, prettier, and making it a lot harder to choke down his drink then it could’ve been.

Roman held his mug up with one hand, hoping to keep any of it’s contents from spilling out, and pressed his other fist to his mouth, coughing heavily into it. His throat burned, and he grimaced, rubbing it carefully.

“Holy shit, Roman,” Virgil said, trying to look back at him. “Are you good?”

Roman shrugged, forcing up another cough in hopes of it clearing his airway. “It’s nothing, really, I’m just- surprised.”

Both Logan and Virgil stared at him for an awkward moment, before looking at each other and sharing a silent conversation. Roman looked very deliberately at the screen (and maybe also at the pretty guy walking with Thomas and Nico, although if his eyes happened to catch, that wasn’t on him) rather than his two fellow sides.

“Surprised,” Logan said dryly, his mouth quirking up into a smirk as he looked over at the tv and the two very similar looking men on it.

“Yeah,” Roman squeaked, sounding far less confident in himself as he saw Virgil glance at the tv, Logan, and him in slowly dawning realization.

“You have a crush,” Virgil breathed, looking extremely excited for some (hopefully not blackmail related) reason.

Roman looked at the inside of his mug rather than at his friends and hummed a noncommittal sound. All it took was one glance up at the tv screen while Pretty Pink looked Thomas in the eyes, and Roman buried his face in his free hand in hopes of covering his blush.

He wasn’t sure it was working.

Logan grinned. “Oh, I can’t wait till your brother gets back, he’s going to love this.”

Virgil rolled himself out from under Roman, falling off the couch in the process. “Hey, I don’t mean to like, be a jerk or anything, but I think this is really cute and as your best friend-“ Roman made a quiet sound of mild disagreement. “-It’s my job to make fun of you for this.” Roman made another, far louder and offended, sound of disagreement.

Roman shook his head. “There is totally something a problem with this relationship, and I don’t know what it is, but Logan is going to tell me and it’s going to make it so that you do not get to make fun of me.”

Logan snorted. “Absolutely not, this is your crush, and as little as I want to get involved with your love life, I think you should go for it.” He grinned down at the green stone that hung from his necklace. “It’s what got your brother and I together, so I’m certainly going to give the advice I can to you.”

Roman made a whining noise and Virgil hummed sympathetically.

“It really sucks to suck man,” he said comfortingly, though the words weren’t as kind as Roman thought they could’ve been. Virgil looked over towards the front door with a grin. “I do really enjoy the thought of you just going outside and saying something real quick, but you’re very nervous right now, it’s cold outside, and I’m starting to think you’re ceasing to function.”

Virgil was right, because of course he was. Roman glancing at the tv every three seconds to look at Nico’s side was turning his brain to lovestruck mush. And with mush for brains, Roman’s supposedly carefully crafted defense was a weak, “He’s very pretty.”

Virgil snorted. “Okay, lovebird, I think that’s enough of Thomas’ date for you. Next time I see that guy, I’m shoving your ass out the front door to greet him though, got it?”

Roman sighed as the tv clicked off, but shrugged none the less. “I’m not going out there without a fight, I hope you know.”

Both Logan and Virgil laughed, the latter elbowing Roman in the side. “I know! It wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.”

The third time Roman saw his crush was when he was with Patton.

Padre was trying (and failing) to make cookies, often misreading the instructions and adding too much of something.

The tv was on in the living room, showing Nico and Janus sitting on the edge of Thomas’ bed as the man himself recited his lines for the new play.

Part of Roman wanted to be out there, but he and Janus were in a bit of a fight, one that neither of them were interested in apologizing for. At some point they’d settled on a switching schedule, changing who got to be Thomas’ critic every time he practiced (Roman was quite sure they’d gotten to a point where neither him nor Janus would actually be upset with the other should they work together, but it would be awkward, and he didn’t much feel like dealing with that).

Roman grinned as Patton managed to spray batter in his face, slipping off the counter to try and help wipe a droplet off his face. “Take a break, padre, I don’t know if the kitchen can take any more of this,” Roman laughed.

Patton frowned at the flower and sugar scattered across the counter and his arms. “This is true. I do really want cookies though.” He turned to look at Roman as he snapped his fingers to get rid of the mess. “Can you summon some? The ones you summon always taste great .”

Roman put a hand to his chest. “How kind of you!” He brought his other hand up as a tray materialized on it and bowed down to reveal the perfectly crisped cookies to Patton.

Patton giggled and took one of the still warm snacks, taking a bite and giving Roman a thumbs up. “It’s awesome!”

Roman smiled in return. “Now, let’s eat these on the couch and see what mistakes we can catch Thomas make.” Patton nodded enthusiastically, though Roman was pretty sure it was at the prospect of eating cookies in the warmth of the couch.

“Actually,” Roman handed the tray to Patton, “Go sit on the couch, and I’ll make coffee.” As the fatherly side dropped onto the couch and began creating a nest for himself Roman called to him, “Oh! Tell me if anything interesting comes up!”

Patton only just finished touching up his area when he stared at the screen, confused, and hummed, “Roman, something interesting just popped up.”

Roman rolled the phrase through his mind, wondering if there was a pun hidden inside, and glanced at the tv screen, took a double take, and squealed.

He was there. He was there. He was there.

It was his nameless crush, sitting beside his whole and watching Thomas fumble over his words. Amusement shone in his eyes, and he leaned over to whisper something to Nico, making the human stand up and ask Thomas for the script.

Janus looked over at the other side, tilting his head to examine him.

Roman and Patton, on the other side of the tv screen, were in chaos. Roman was avoiding looking at anything but the coffee, blush deepening every second that passed. Patton was staring at the tv, mouth running a mile a minute.

“Is that-? Roman is that the guy Virgil was telling me about? Is that the guy you have a crush on? Am I supposed to push you out the door? Virgil told me that was what he was going to do but I don’t really want to. Should you go out and talk to him? Wait actually, for sure, for sure, that’s your crush-?”

Roman buried his face in his hands as Nico grinned and told Thomas he would read the other character’s lines. “Patton,” the princely side groaned, “I’m this close to combusting.” He held up a hand and held his fingers so they almost touched.

Patton blinked, then covered his mouth. “Oops!” He gasped through his hands.

Roman waved him off. “It’s whatever, but I’d much rather watch Thomas’ mediocre acting skills then discuss this with you.”

“Don’t you mean watch your new cru -“

“Patton!”

Patton giggled, leaning back into the couch and stuffing a cookie in his mouth. There was a moment of silence, just long enough to make it feel awkward, and Patton turned to Roman and opened his mouth.

Janus, on the tv, cut him off.

“Who are you?”

Both Patton and Roman snapped to attention as the other side blinked in surprise. “Oh, me? My name’s Carmen! I’m Nico’s creativity.”

Roman bounced, excitement running through his veins as Janus held his hand out. “My name is Janus. I’m Thomas’ deceit.”

Carmen smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Janus!”

“Absolutely dreadful to meet you too,” Janus hummed, letting Carmen sort out the sarcasm.

Carmen paused, and Roman and Patton exchanged disappointed glances. Roman couldn’t help but flap his hands when his crush spoke next. “Do you know of a side wearing all white with a red sash?”

Janus carefully didn’t react, but his lips tilted up and he leaned back. “Oh? Are you looking for Roman?”

Carmen nodded. “I want to talk to him.” A hand came up to play with the chain on his glasses. “He looks like a fun person to be around, you know?”

“He’s certainly exuberant,” Janus agreed. “Do you want me to tell him something for you?”

Carmen looked down at his hands for a moment, contemplative. “No, no I don’t think so. I just want to talk, face to face.” His eyes flickered up to where Thomas and Nico were giggling, faces close. “Thank you for the offer though, Janus.”

Janus didn’t respond, looking at Carmen carefully. After a pause, he narrowed his eyes in almost suspicion, but said nothing, only relaxing in his spot.

“Have a good day, Carmen,” Janus said, standing up swiftly. “I highly doubt Thomas will be doing any proper acting anymore.” He walked over to the door and lay a hand on the doorknob, pausing. “I’ll make sure Roman comes out next time he sees you out here.”

Carmen smiled. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

Janus tipped his hat and opened the door, shutting it quietly behind him. He turned around, freezing when he saw Patton and Roman’s eyes on him. There was a minute of awkward silence before Janus marched toward the stairs. “You better have heard that, Roman.”

Roman blinked. “Was- Did you do that for me?”

Janus snorted. “Of course not, Roman, I’m definitely the type for small talk with some random side.”

Janus made his way up the stairs and out of view, and Roman recognized his attempt at an apology. It wasn’t a sorry, but it was Janus trying to reconcile. The least Roman could do in return was meet Carmen next time he saw him.

That next time ended up being about a week later, when Roman was laughing with his brother and Logan. They were in the living room, the tv turned on for background noise and a nest of pillows strewn about the floor for Roman’s comfort.

“Remus!” Roman snorted, attempting to pull yet another pillow from the mustached menace’s hands. “Remus, give me the pillow!”

Remus gave a sharp tug, sending Roman tumbling face first into the couch. “No,” he said, grinning.

Logan pulled his boyfriend closer to him, angling in for a kiss, and stealing the pillow when Remus went soft.

Roman cackled at his brother’s pout. “You know what?” He asked, falling back into his pile of fluff. “I’m gonna let Logan have it.”

Remus gasped in mock hurt, even as his mouth twitched up into a smile. “How could you? First my brother! Then my boyfriend! And then my brother again!”

Roman rolled over onto his stomach to look at the tv. “Sucks to be you I guess,” he sang.

Remus leaned back, crossing his arms. “It does suck to be me,” he whined.

Logan pulled his boyfriend close, cuddling into him. “The pillow was a trap to get you to cuddle me,” he hummed into Remus’s chest.

Remus grinned. “Well then! Consider me trapped!”

There was a pause as Remus and Logan curled into each other, and Roman inspected the tv. He watched Nico as he leaned over the desk, pencil scratching.

He wondered if Carmen would come out soon.

“Hey, guys,” Roman hummed, eyes still on the screen. “What did you do when you found out you liked each other?”

Logan shifted to look at him. “We talked it out. Why?”

Remus laughed. “You kissed me and then said that you’d wanted to do that for a year. My response was ‘same.’ That’s not talking it out.”

Roman turned to look back at the two. “I feel like despite the fact that you’re the only couple I can ask, you’re the exact wrong people to talk to.”

Logan sighed. “I think you might be right. We’re disasters.”

Remus nodded. “Hell yeah, but,” he turned to look at his brother. “Why do you ask?”

Logan looked Roman over for a second before shooting up with a gasp. “I didn’t tell you about Roman’s crush yet!”

The twins froze simultaneously.

Remus tackled his brother with a shout, finding himself sitting cross-legged on the other side’s back. “You didn’t tell me about your crush? ” He huffed, flicking his brother between the eyes. “That’s illegal.”

Roman shrugged, glaring at Logan. “Be gay, do crime, right?”

Logan smiled. “Remus, come here, let me hug you, and we’re going to talk about Roman’s crush.”

Roman whined loudly as Remus settled himself in Logan’s arms. “You guys better not make fun of me,” he said, looking back at the tv.

“Don’t worry,” Remus sang, “We will!”

Logan sat his chin on his boyfriend’s shoulder, a laugh rumbling from his throat. “So first, you need to know is that it’s not any of us.”

Remus nodded, looking confused, but patting Logan’s leg. “That’s fair, the hottest side is already taken.”

Logan grinned. “Not a celebrity crush either!”

Remus tilted his head, brows furrowed. “Wait, not a celeb crush?”

Roman narrowed his eyes. “Are you dragging this out on purpose or are you torturing me on accident?”

Logan huffed. “Come on, let me have this.” He waited a beat. “Anyway, it’s one of Nico’s sides. The creative one, I think.”

Remus blinked. “Wait, you’ve seen Nico’s sides?” He stared at the tv, eyes narrowed. “Is it him?”

Roman turned around, eyes falling onto Carmen, sitting on the counter of Thomas’ kitchen, watching whatever Thomas and Nico had put on the tv to cuddle to. A strangled noise escaped his throat and he buried his face into his knees.

“Oh-“ Remus said, surprised. “He’s, like- gay.”

Logan snorted. “He’s never even met him properly.”

Roman groaned, flipping off the boyfriends. “I don’t want to yet.” Far more muffled: “I’m scared.”

Remus frowned, reaching an arm up as if to put it on his brother’s shoulder. He stole it back after a moment of hesitation.

“Hey, Ro-bro,” Remus tried, “You wanna hear a story?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Okay, so there were these two guys who were really fucking gay for each other but they didn’t talk too much. Why? Because they were dumb.”

Logan made a noise of disagreement.

“Because the system was rigged so they couldn’t see each other often,” Remus amended. “So at one point, when they had the chance, they decided to have a talk. Nothing bad, nothing good, just spending time with each other. It was whatever they wanted.”

Logan squeezed his boyfriend tight, nuzzling his head into the crook of his neck. “It wasn’t big, it wasn’t really special, or anything like that, but...” Logan paused. “They knew where they stood with each other. It was the first step in their relationship and it meant that they could do everything else, could escalate to more. It was because they did that one talk first.” He sighed, a hand coming up to play with a lock of Remus’ hair. “Everything we are right now, it’s because of a talk , Roman. It’s important that you can communicate with him comfortably, because you need it.” He brought his hand down to clasp with his boyfriend’s. “You need to talk to him, Roman. Please.”

Roman looked up at them, close physically and emotionally and tried to imagine himself in their place. With Carmen wrapped around him and their clasped hands and just knowing, without a doubt, that they loved each other. That they trusted each other, that they cared.

He found, with a jolt of surprise, that he couldn’t.

He couldn’t because they were right . He needed to take a first step, a step outside his comfort zone (and hopefully into Carmen’s arms). He needed to talk to him.

“Hey guys?” Roman looked up at his friends, eyes shining with hope. “Thank you. I’m gonna talk to him.”

Remus grinned, squeezing Logan’s hand. “Go get him Ro!” He squealed, leaning into his boyfriend.

Logan, from behind him, nodded at Roman. “Have fun,” he said, a soft smile gracing his face.

Roman walked out the front door, listening as Logan and Remus joked to each other behind him.

“Oh wow, they just- they grow up so fast-“

“Yes, your brother is certainly growing a pair.”

Roman closed the door behind him, smiling. He knew they were proud of him. Now he just wanted to do something to earn that pride.

The fifth time Roman saw Carmen, he was star struck. Seeing him through a tv screen or from across a cafeteria was so different from now, only feet apart, with nothing but empty air between them. Carmen, here, now, in the dark of the 9:00 night, glowed. His hair seemed to emit it’s own light, a soft pink casting shadows around the room.

He turned to look at Roman and the princely side’s breath caught in his throat. His eyes, a deep, beautiful, chocolate brown before, were bright, sparkling like cider, and looked like a million different colors reflecting off of each other. Rimmed with gold glasses, he made Roman think of copper - under appreciated but so, so, pretty.

Roman smiled softly, walking forward until he stood in front of Carmen. He pat the spot next to him. “May I sit here?”

Carmen nodded, lips pulling into a smile, freckles shifting, reflecting their own light. There was a moment of silence, and then Carmen spoke. “You’re glowing.” When Roman looked over, Carmen flushed, looking down at his hands. “I know it sounds weird but-“ he snuck a hand over to grasp at Roman’s in a light grip. When Roman made no move to stop him, he pulled their interlocked hands up, Roman noticing the soft trails of pink that followed Carmen’s fingertips. “You shine.” Roman realized after a moment that Carmen seemed to think that it was him who was glowing. Perhaps he was right.

Roman let out a quiet laugh, whispering, “Bright like a diamond!”

He took Carmen’s hand carefully, bringing it down to look at the glitter painted nails. “You’re glowing too, you know?” His eyes were drawn back to the light in his hair. “The tips of your hair, your freckles, your eyes...” he trailed off, a warmth in his chest growing.

Carmen smiled. “You’re a bit of a poet, aren’t you?”

Roman leaned forward, embarrassed. “Sometimes, if I have a sort of muse.”

Carmen sat there for a moment, processing Roman’s words before letting out a squeak. “You-!” He curled into himself, falling into a fit of giggles.

Roman smiled at Carmen’s flustered state before tilting his head with a small frown. “I just realized something, you know.” Carmen paused, looking over. “I’ve never properly introduced myself.”

Roman stood up and took one of Carmen’s hands in his own, bowing down to touch Carmen’s hand to his lips. “It’s wonderful to meet you, my good sir, and it would be my greatest wish fulfilled if you could tell me your name.”

Roman knew his name already, of course, thanks to Janus, but he wanted to hear it here, now, spoken to him for the first time. “My name is Carmen,” he hummed, pulling his hand, interlaced with Roman’s, to his chest. “Now, my prince, would you be willing to tell me yours?”

“Roman,” the side said quietly, distracted by their sudden closeness.

There was a moment of silence, before Carmen’s face split into a grin. “Oh my gosh, that was just like out of a Disney movie-“ he giggled pulling Roman an inch closer.

Roman gasped. “You like Disney movies?” He grinned, a squeal building in his throat, and the former tension disappeared, swapping for bright eyed excitement.

Carmen clapped his hands together, laughing. “Of course! What’s your favorite? Mine is probably Finding Dory, but only because Nico has been watching it a lot lately.”

Roman flapped his hands in excitement, mouth opening and spilling out everything he knew about the four movies he thought might’ve been his favorite in that moment.

When Carmen’s eyes shone with interest rather than boredom, Roman thought he could tell him he loved him, just like that. He didn’t though, preferring this easy talk about whatever they wanted to anything that might have happened should he say something wrong like that.

They talked for hours, their excitement never dulling, conversation only stopping when Nico leaned up to kiss Thomas with a quiet, “It’s late, I should go.”

There was no kiss, no confession, not there and not then. They’d only just properly met, after all. But it was love, and they both knew it.

It was going somewhere, because they’d taken that first step.

#Roman sanders #Nico Flores #Writing #Logan sanders #Virgil sanders #Intrulogical #Patton sanders #Sanders sides #4+1 #Remus sanders #janus sanders #God I'm so sorry this took so long #swearing

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galli-writes · 4 years ago

Photo

(Click here to read on Ao3!)

fandom: Teen Titans

pairing: BBRae

genre/warnings: AU - Canon Divergence; Implied/Referenced Abuse, Abusive Parents, Childhood Trauma, Graphic Depictions of Violence

additional tags: Angst, Family Issues, Friendship/Love, Protectiveness, Slow Burn, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions

summary:

There are a few things that Beast Boy knows for certain:

He’s 21….and a total lightweight. He’s a vegan (but not like…a pretentious vegan). He’s not going to be single forever.

And the Teen Titans are the only family he’ll ever need.

a/n: Hello! I am bad at updating. Please forgive my sins.

Chapter 6: The Invitation (words 5,129)

The TV buzzed in the background, images flashing against the rising sun. Beast Boy stared at the screen without really looking at it as he poured some orange juice into a glass at the kitchen counter. His hand shook ever so slightly as he took a sip, and he tried to convince himself it was purely from a lack of sleep. But he knew that was only part of the problem at best. As he looked around the room, he locked eyes with the eerie monkey statue, still on display, and put his glass down with a hard swallow.

Beast Boy never brought up Galtry. Raven hadn’t mentioned him either, though that was probably less intentional. Even so, with each day that passed, his conviction only grew stronger. It had to have been Galtry. It just made sense. Didn’t it?

Beast Boy set his glass back down on the counter--and it was a good thing too, because if he had still been holding onto it when the doorbell rang, it definitely would have shattered on the floor.

Everything in the room went still for a moment. At the other end of the counter, Robin suddenly looked up from his phone, finishing off a bite of french toast. Cyborg had turned away from the TV, looking toward the door and then down at a screen on his arm in mild confusion.

“Uh...Well damn.”

“What is it?” Robin asked, already starting to get up to answer the door.

“I’m looking at the cam now,” Cyborg continued. “Whoever that was, they sure left in a hell of a hurry.”

Beast Boy tried to turn his attention to the TV again, and was able to do so with some effort. Above him, men and women wearing either red or blue aprons dashed around a kitchen at full speed. Pumpkins and fall leaves decorated the scene. A smiling scarecrow was pegged in the corner next to one woman’s prep station. At that moment, the host was asking a contestant about her pumpkin spice cinnamon rolls, which were already in the oven. It wasn’t the most creative approach to the challenge, but it was only the first round. So playing it safe was still acceptable.

Then the screen cut to commercial. Beast Boy looked back down at the counter, suddenly shoved back into reality. A reality that became all the more treacherous when he heard Robin returning--and heading his direction.

“Who was it?” Cyborg asked casually, turning back to the TV.

“I’m...not sure,” Robin said slowly. “But they left this. Beast Boy--”

“Huh?” Beast Boy nearly jumped, feeling Robin next to him now.

“It’s...for you.”

“Me? ”

Robin handed him a small card, which he took willingly despite himself. His name was unmistakably clear on the front flap. Well, not his name, but the name of someone he knew was supposed to be him. Galtry’s name wasn’t present, but it was clearly his handwriting--an elegant cursive Beast Boy had regrettably memorized by now. Even so, he had to squint to make out the words on the front of the card. He flipped it over. In slightly more legible text, there was a time and address. The lack of a date could only imply today.

“Any idea what it is?” Robin asked.

Beast Boy knew his curiosity was well warranted, but he froze under Robin’s expectant gaze.

“I mean....it kinda looks like an invitation or something,” Beast Boy said, trying to avoid eye contact. “But I’m not sure how we’re supposed to RSVP.” He managed a small, unconvincing laugh.

“Do you know who it’s from?” Robin continued, in the same awfully unassuming tone.

“No.” Beast Boy shrugged, pocketing the card. “I don’t.”

And that wasn’t technically a lie.

***

The forecast for the night showed more rain—this time enough to warrant a flood watch. Residents of certain parts of the city were advised to stay inside and avoid driving altogether. Unfortunately, this didn’t apply to the restaurant they were to meet Galtry at. Of course it had been decided that Beast Boy wouldn’t be going alone, and for that he was grateful. In truth, he didn’t really want to go at all. But given the circumstances, Robin had decided the matter was ‘probably worth looking into.’ And Beast Boy knew better than to disagree.

In his room, Beast Boy knelt before a pile of clothes, rummaging through them without a clear goal. He didn’t know what he was going to wear--what he was supposed to wear for something like this. Probably something pretty nice if he was going off of Galtry’s handwriting alone.

Eventually, he came to the decision that the clothes on the floor were too wrinkled anyway. And when he couldn’t find anything reasonable in the closet, he turned to the dresser in desperation. He barely kept any clothes in there, but there had to be something . He yanked open the bottom drawer with some effort, finding nothing but a collection of mismatched socks, useless knick knacks--and a picture frame he’d intended to keep buried.

The picture was of course the same as it had been the last time he’d seen it. His own dark, disheveled hair contrasting with his mother’s blond waves. His father’s tight smile and focused gaze. When he was younger, people had always told him he ‘had his father’s eyes’. So dark they were nearly black. Beast Boy caught a flash of his reflection in the glass frame. His eyes were still quite dark, but in the light they betrayed a subtle green glint.

He frowned. With a new sense of purpose, Beast Boy got up, the frame tight in his grip as he turned his back on the mess surrounding him.

In the common room, he quickly found a small box of trinkets with ample space to house the frame. Using some discarded bubble wrap, he neatly repacked the picture, tucking it away next to some old books. Beast Boy glanced around the room, searching for something he could use to seal the box up for good. With a few carelessly ripped off pieces of packing tape, he folded the box shut and shoved it back with the rest of them.

And immediately afterward, a stream of guilt flooded over him.

One curse at a time, he ripped off more and more tape to finish off the rest of the packages before he changed his mind. With some effort, he pushed them into a neat pile at one end of the room. He would have to ask Dr. Galtry—whoever he was—to come have them picked up as soon as possible.

“What’re you doing?”

Beast Boy jumped slightly, taken off guard by the sound of someone’s voice. He took a breath to steady himself and turned around.

It was only Raven.

“Oh, uh, nothing,” he said, scrambling to his feet. “Just...cleaning.”

Raven simply raised an eyebrow in uninterested disbelief. She was standing next to the fridge with a can of ginger ale in one hand and a hefty book in the other. Neither of those things were particularly remarkable for Raven.

But what was strange was the way she was dressed. Opposed to her usual baggy sweaters and leggings, she was wearing jeans and a cardigan over a blouse he’d never seen before. It even looked like she might be wearing makeup. Real makeup that had clearly taken more effort than her everyday eyeliner.

“So I guess you heard about dinner tonight, right?” he asked only now realizing he was staring.

“Yeah. Sucks for you guys,” Raven said plainly, taking a sip of her soda.

“What do you mean?” Beast Boy said, genuinely puzzled for a moment. “You ’re not coming with us?”

“I have...plans.”

Beast Boy eyed the book in her hand. “Sitting in your room reading doesn’t count as plans.”

“ Real plans,” she said defiantly, tossing the now empty can in the recycling.

“Well you’ll have to reschedule,” another voice said suddenly, short and stern.

Beast Boy and Raven both turned around to find the rest of their friends approaching from the nearest hallway, Robin at the lead.

“I can’t,” Raven replied, her tone just as sharp and uncompromising.

But Robin didn’t budge. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, arms crossed against his chest. “But this is official Titans business, and you know what takes precedence. That’s all I’m gonna say about it.”

Raven frowned, but she didn’t put her book down. She merely stuffed it into her purse, which was much too small to properly contain it.

“Uh...car’s all ready out back,” Cyborg said, gesturing to the garage with some hesitation.

Raven sulked past them without a word, not even bothering to try and call shotgun.

The drive was awkward and uncomfortable. At least for Beast Boy.

At some point he realized Starfire was talking to him about the latest Netflix series she’d been binging. It was a clear effort to distract from the all consuming depressive aura of the back row. Beast Boy nodded at the appropriate moments, but couldn’t even remember the name of the show two minutes into the conversation.

Raven didn’t look up from her book once during the entire trip. But it was obvious she was only pretending. Beast Boy couldn’t help but notice that she never once turned the page--and Raven was a fast reader. He didn’t mean to notice the slip of paper tucked between the pages--didn’t mean to see what was scribbled on it. The messy, half-cursive script was almost illegible, but it was clearly a reminder of some sort. A date, a place, a time--the last of which was circled aggressively in dark ink. Beast Boy made a conscious effort to try and stare straight ahead. He didn’t want to be caught staring again. But of course, it was hard not to notice things like that when you were sitting right next to someone.

What plans did Raven have? ...Not that it mattered to him, of course. Whatever Raven did in her free time wasn’t any of his business, really. Even still, it was hard not to wonder what could be important enough to pull the world’s biggest introvert out of her room. In an actual put-together outfit no less. Then, for a brief moment, a disarming thought flitted through his mind. Hypothetically, in a world where Raven actually dated people, it would probably be safe to assume that she would never tell any of them about it. And why should she? But more importantly why should any of them care ? He didn’t.

Of course, the thought was utter nonsense to begin with. Raven had always made it abundantly clear that she had no interest in being in a relationship. Unless of course she’s been lying.

Beast Boy began to feel a pit forming in his stomach for the millionth time that week. Just letting his mind wander as far as it had made him feel guilty--like he was prying into things that were none of his business. He tried to shift his train of thought to something-- anything --else beyond the uncomfortable terrain he’d stumbled into. And he didn’t know why it was so uncomfortable. Maybe it was because now he couldn’t stop thinking about the state of his own love life. At least Raven had the angsty brooding down pat. Any time he felt bad for himself--which was a little too often for his liking--he imagined he looked less like the lead singer of a pop punk band and more like a toddler who’d spilled their cheerios in the backseat of mom’s minivan. Right now he would have leaned up against the window and stared into the coming downpour like someone in an early 2000s music video...had he not been stuck in the middle seat again.

As they drove, Robin talked briefly of a ‘plan’ he’d been constructing in the event that things went south. Starfire and Cyborg seemed engaged enough, hyping themselves up for what they’d decided was going to either be a five star meal or an equally satisfying smackdown. But Beast Boy couldn’t find it in him to join them. Outside, the rain was picking up fast. The gray clouds above had brought on the night of their own accord, and even the thousands of city lights couldn’t entirely pierce through the darkness. Beast Boy slunk down further in his seat, sticking his hands deep in his pockets. In doing so, he realized abruptly that he had never actually changed clothes, and a familiar card was still tucked away in his pocket. Unfortunately, no amount of fiddling would make it disappear.

It was easy to recognize when they’d arrived at their destination. The traffic came to a complete stop, as cars—and even a limo or two—fought for a spot on the narrow strip of asphalt in front of the shimmering building before them. People poured out of the vehicles like liquid gold, as men in suits and women with designer handbags scrambled for the attention of the underpaid valet workers.

“Well this looks like...fun,” Cyborg said, hands gripping the wheel tighter, despite the utter standstill.

“I think we might be a little under dressed,” Robin said, peeking out the window and then down at his jeans and flannel. He sounded much less like a boy about to embarrass his family at the yacht club and much more like a detective who was going to blow his cover.

“Well I guess it’s too late for that now,” Cyborg said, automatically pulling up in line next to a man dressed in valet attire weilding a crisp black umbrella.

“Good evening, sir. May I have the name of your party?”

“Uh...” Cyborg hesitated.

Without thinking, Beast Boy reached for the card in his pocket. In a matter of seconds it had acquired some impressively deep folds and a slight tear in one corner, but it was still easily readable and recognizable. He leaned forward and silently passed it to the man like he’d been rehearsing the action for months.

The man’s eyes widened instantly. “Oh, of course. Dr. Galtry has been expecting you.”

A brief moment of silence hung in the air between them as Cyborg continued to grip the wheel.

Beast Boy stared straight ahead. The tension was palpable. For everyone else, the sound of Galtry’s name must have conjured some form of excitement. Good or bad. Some sense of progress in unearthing a mystery. For Beast Boy it only stirred up the guilt surrounding how much he’d withheld.

“If you would—“ the man said, clearing his throat slightly. He nodded toward the driver’s seat as he spoke. “I would be happy to take care of your vehicle.”

“I...uh,” Cyborg hesitated again, his hands gripping the steering wheel even tighter.

“That would be great, thanks,” Robin interjected from the other side. Cyborg shot him a quick look of doubt, but it was quickly followed by a sigh of resignation as he let go of the wheel.

From the safety of the covered curb, Beast Boy watched with his friends as the man stepped into the driver’s seat and fumbled for a moment with the controls.

“Be safe, baby,” Cyborg half whispered as the car disappeared into the fray. And despite all of the nerves clouding his mind, Beast Boy couldn’t help holding back a smile, patting his friend on the shoulder in consolation.

The inside of the restaurant was just as extravagant as the exterior suggested, even more so as the former had certainly been dulled by the weather. Immediately upon entering through the crystal double doors, Beast Boy found himself brushing shoulders with men and women who looked like attendees of a red carpet after party. The entire building—which was completely packed beyond any sense of personal space—was littered with dark wooden tables, velvet curtains, and chandeliers. Light bounced around the room off silver plates and platters carried around by elegantly dressed waitstaff. Even from the distance of the foyer, the scene was simultaneously beautiful and nauseating.

“The party for Dr. Galtry?” A young woman’s voice rang out from behind a tall podium in the corner of the entryway. “We have you in our private dining--” the woman started, pausing as she looked up to meet the group before her. Her eyes grew wide and a clearly unscripted smile came across her face. She had to be in her late teens or early twenties--and was one of the youngest people in the room.

“Sorry,” she said, the smile still on her face. Her brilliant emerald jewelry sparkled as she began to move. “Um...If you’ll just follow me right this way.”

Weaving through the tables turned out to be even more dizzying than just looking at them. And with every step, Beast Boy felt more and more like he was walking straight back into the cave of a hungry beast hoarding its jewels. When they finally came to a halt, it was in front of a large wooden door at the back end of the restaurant. Like the den of a sleeping dragon, this area of the restaurant boasted an even greater number of precious gems and wrinkle lines.

“Dr. Galtry will be waiting for you all inside,” the young woman said, nodding her head slightly.

An awkward beat of silence passed as she continued to stand there without turning to leave, her eyes darting down to her feet.

“Sorry, I know this is like, super unprofessional, and I know you guys are busy, but I was just wondering...if I could maybe get an autograph?” she said quietly, the words spilling out a million miles an hour. She was looking up now, and despite referring to the entire group, it was clear her attention rested on Starfire.

“Certainly!” Starfire smiled.

As if by magic, a small receipt notepad and chewed up pen had already appeared in the young woman’s hands.

“I love your bracelet by the way,” Starfire beamed, taking the pad of paper and beginning to doodle on it.

“Oh, this?” the girl laughed nervously. “Thanks. I mean, it’s nothing really.”

Starfire handed the paper back with a smile, the pad now feverishly adorned with hearts and stars surrounding her signature.

The young woman seemed to be beside herself with joy. She managed another clumsy string of thank yous before disappearing into the crowd again.

There was another long silence.

“I hate it here,” Raven said abruptly, shattering any lingering sentiments of the preceding interaction.

The look on Starfire’s face was more than enough of a response.

“I’m not talking about the girl,” Raven huffed.

Beast Boy looked around. It was true. The suspicious glares were more than enough to tell that the rest of the diners weren’t fans. Maybe coming here had been a mistake.

“Is it really--? Oh, yes, finally!”

Beast Boy blinked hard, a smooth but animated voice bringing him back into the room.

“I’m so glad that you all agreed to meet me here,” a man said, approaching them eagerly.

Suddenly everything seemed to blur. The motion of the restaurant became nothing more than a swirling backdrop of light. For the third time that night, Beast Boy caught himself staring. He looked just like his picture. Too perfect to be real--and yet there he was. Black hair, dark eyes, perfect smiling complexion. The only indicator of his age was the shadow of graying stubble around his chin--and even that looked somehow manicured and intentional. But he walked and talked and was standing right before them just like any other human being. It felt like being in a dream. Or a nightmare.

“I’m so sorry. I had to step outside to make a phone call,” the man continued. “Galtry. Dr. Nicholas Galtry,” he said, proceeding to shake each of their hands with an unprecedented force. “Really, it is an honor meeting the rest of you.”

“The...rest of us?” Robin asked, wiping his palm on his pant leg.

The man stopped short, a look of pure bewilderment washing over his face. “Oh...don’t tell me you didn’t get my letter?” As he spoke, he turned to look at Beast Boy directly.

“So you’re the letter guy?” Cyborg said, with a somewhat forced laugh.

“I had hoped Garfield might at least mention my name,” Galtry said, slowly.

For a moment, Beast Boy felt the same sense of crippling guilt returning, coupled with the discomfort of hearing his ‘name’ spoken aloud by someone he didn’t know. Or didn’t know well . He was still deciding.

“Well, I’m sure you all must be tired, called out like this on such short notice,” Galtry continued. “Again, all of my apologies, but I just couldn’t wait any longer to speak to you. Here, let’s go inside, shall we?”

The private dining room certainly was private. Almost to the point of being soundproof, which Beast Boy found to be more of a concern than a comfort. Robin automatically sat the closest to Galtry, which was unsurprising but still a relief. Beat Boy opted for a spot in the middle of the long table, where he reasoned he would be least likely to garner extra attention from their host.

Just then, the door swung open again, and another member of the wait staff entered to pour water into the intricate crystal glasses before them. He then proceeded to take drink orders—a cherry coke for Beast Boy and pinot grigio for Dr. Galtry.

“So,” Galtry said, swirling his wine like he was on the cover of a food magazine. “I understand you all have been on Arsenal’s trail for some time now.”

The room went still. Until, of course, Robin eventually broke the silence.

“Arsenal?”

The question would have sounded redundant on anyone else’s lips. But Robin said it with such confidence that it was Galtry who looked embarrassed.

“Oh. Of course. I’m sorry. I had assumed you were familiar with them.”

As one waiter exited, two more replaced him, setting various cutting boards piled high with expensive cheeses and sausages down the center of the table. Galtry sliced a piece of smooth white cheese off the cutting board, spreading it on a piece of toast without even looking down. “They’ve been causing me trouble ever since I first got here.”

“You sound like you know ‘em,” Cyborg said, his eyes resting on Galtry as he skewered his own kebab of sausage rounds.

“Unfortunately,” Galtry grumbled, mostly to himself. “They’ve been after some research of mine for some time now. I don’t pretend to know why. I’m not sure they would even know what to do with it if they were to get a hold of it.”

“What exactly are you researching?” Robin asked tentatively.

Galtry looked up at him suddenly, an expression akin to embarrassment flashing once more across his face. He was clearly not the type of man accustomed to having to introduce himself.

“I’m sorry. I’m getting a bit ahead of myself, aren’t I?” he cleared his throat. “I haven’t even properly introduced myself. That’s what happens when you frequent limited social circles your entire adult life,” he said with a short laugh. “Right now I hold a position as Research Chair for the department of Genomics at the University of Pretoria. I primarily conduct research regarding the development of new gene therapy technologies.”

“Why would the genes need therapy?” Starfire asked, already on her second round of charcuterie.

Galtry fought back a bemused smile. “It’s not literal. Though that would be something, wouldn’t it? It’s a type of medical procedure,” he explained. “The sort of thing that would help us treat genetic disorders like cystic fibrosis or even reverse the production of cancer cells. The details are a bit...complicated,” he said thoughtfully, looking into his glass.

“As for my being here in Jump City, I admit it’s a bit of a surprise even to me. The U.S. Northeastern Scientific Board regularly invites me to present my work at their annual symposium, which is usually held in Gotham. But I understand there’s been somewhat of a crime spike there recently. And criminals do love the smell of science they don’t understand,” he said with a sardonic smile.

“You’ll have to excuse me for being so blunt,” Robin interjected. “But what does this have to do with us exactly?”

“Well that's a simple question with a rather complicated answer,” Galtry said, a slight frown coming across his face. “The less complicated aspect has to do with Arsenal themself. When I learned that they had found some opposition after following me to the states, I knew I would have to meet with whoever was tracking them. Lucky for me it turns out you all are pretty famous around here.”

“Well I wouldn’t say famous ,” Cyborg said, barely pulling off airs of humility.

The doors swung open a third time as if on cue, this time letting loose a small string of waiters, each steering a cart laden with different shapes and sizes of covered plates. One was placed in front of each person at the table with expert precision and lifted dramatically to reveal the contents. Beast Boy was more than surprised to find that his dish was completely different than everyone else’s—stuffed mushrooms that looked like they’d been specially prepared. He didn’t remember mentioning that he was a vegan, and had the harrowing thought that maybe he had reached a stage where people knew without asking.

“So how do you know Beast Boy?” Starfire asked, head tilting slightly to one side like a puppy.

It was the question Beast Boy had been dying to hear the answer to--though he knew he would have been incapable of asking it.

“Of course. That’s the other half of the matter. And a bit more complicated,” Galtry said, rubbing his hands together meditatively. “The simple answer is that I was a friend of his parents’. Back during their tenure at the University of Pretoria.” There was a soft smile on his face, but it didn’t seem to exude any kind of joy. “Small world, isn’t it?”

“But all of those artifacts...all of their belongings--you sent those?” Robin tried to clarify.

Galtry nodded. “After their unfortunate passing, I was designated Garfield’s legal guardian by the court that sorted their affairs. They were always very private people, and I was the closest acquaintance they had. Their son was supposed to inherit their entire fortune--the only problem being...well...no one knew where you were,” he said, looking directly at Beast Boy now. “Seeing as you had still been under close medical watch at the time of your disappearance, it was the general belief that you had died somewhere in the jungle shortly afterward. But because there was never any actual proof of that being the case, the money was never dispersed by the government or anyone else. Instead it’s in a bit of a state of limbo held by those same officials—where it’s been utterly useless given the circumstances.”

Galtry looked down at the table, shaking his head. “I had just about given up hopes of ever finding Garfield—you wouldn’t believe how difficult it is to find someone once they’ve essentially erased their given name from their identity. Even through legal means. Surprisingly, the small detail of him being green didn’t help very much either,” Galtry said with a small laugh. “I only recently learned it was even an aspect of his...condition. The side effect hadn’t quite developed completely before he disappeared.”

Galtry spoke to his friends as if this was knowledge Beast Boy had always possessed and merely neglected to share with them, which, as far as he knew, was not the case. Though the historic tirade made him wonder just how much of his life he had forced himself to forget.

Galtry shook his head once more. “There were always flitting rumors of what had really happened to the Logans’ son, but I was always too stubborn to believe them.” A small ironic smile crept over his face as he looked directly at Beast Boy. “You have to understand. I’ve dedicated my entire life to the sciences. And, quite frankly, your very existence seems to defy its most basic principles.”

The silence that followed was unlike any other that had filled the air that night. There was a certain quality to it that went beyond discomfort. Beast Boy felt himself instinctively clench the sides of his chair as he struggled to keep his expression neutral. Galtry’s words felt eerily like a compliment, and somehow that made things worse.

Robin cleared his throat suddenly, making a point to stand from his seat. “Thanks for the meal, it was really delicious. But this is all a lot to take in. We’ll need a little more time as a team to consider whether or not we can help you.”

“I completely understand,” Galtry said with a smile. “Especially considering we’ve only just met.” He folded his hands in front of him, like a compassionate leader about to make a compromise with some of his disheveled citizens. “If you all would like to know more about what it is I do, I would be more than happy to show you around my lab this weekend. Perhaps a better understanding of my work would convince you?”

“We’ll have to think about it,” Robin repeated in the same definitive tone.

“Of course,” Galtry said automatically. As if this were a dance he’d done many times before. “Here,” he rose from his seat. “For now the least I can do is see you off.”

The man known to them as Nicholas Galtry made his way through the door, exiting the restaurant the way they’d come in. But this time, Beast Boy noticed that it wasn’t the green skin and glowing eyes or robotic arms and legs that captured everyone’s attention. It was Galtry. The doors were opened for them as if on cue, valets and restaurant staff trailing behind them without Galtry so much as lifting a finger. When they got to the outside of the restaurant, Cyborg’s car was already there, running and ready to go.

“I could really use your help,” Galtry said, passing the keys from the valet’s hand to Cyborg’s. “I hope I’ll be hearing from you soon.”

The second they were in the car, the doors shut tight behind them and a quiet voice broke the heavy silence.

“Did I mention I hate it here?” Raven mumbled, the first words she’d said since they’d met Galtry. The only words she’d said all night.

Beast Boy didn’t say it, but he had been thinking the same thing. Though maybe hate wasn’t the right word. Not exactly.

He turned to look out the back seat window, and watched as Galtry watched them drive away.

#bbrae #bbrae fanfiction #beast boy teen titans #raven teen titans #dc #have another one #still trying to catch up on posting these here

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

Text

Pretty in Pearls, Chapter 4 (Jankie) - Plastiquedoll

read on ao3 💄| previous chapters

A/N: hi! here's a new chapter and I'm planting the crygi seed for the future *wink wink* I hope you enjoy it and thank you for reading it <3

-4-

“Good morning!” Jan greeted Nicky outside the café with a smile on her face.

“Hey! You woke up earlier today; I didn’t catch you on your way out the dorms.” The blonde noticed.

She was wearing a fuzzy cardigan sweater she had seen on Jaida before, light blue jeans, and white sneakers. Her hair was still wet which made Jan think she might have spent the night with her girlfriend before meeting her.

“Yeah, I had to return some books to the library so I left when Rosé went to class.”

They walked in and were welcomed by the familiar warmness of the interior of the coffee shop. Almost a month had passed but Jan was always comforted by the charm of the place. It was a crowded morning but they were able to squish at one little table near the entrance. They had just sat down when a fuming Jackie crossed the door, at first she didn’t see them but as soon as Jan waved at her she shuffled toward their direction and plopped herself in the empty chair.

She was wearing brown flare pants along with a white shirt and a yellow batwing cardigan with a floral pattern. Her brown hair had been violently ruffled by a gust of wind, the loose locks fell all over her face completing a look that matched her current mood.

“What are you doing here?” Nicky asked.

Jan was wondering the same; all of Jackie’s classes took place in the morning, it was early for her to be out.

She grunted a few words while holding a scrunchie between her teeth as she attempted to untangle her hair.

“What?” The girls asked at the same time.

Jackie tied her hair into a ponytail and sighed. “I got kicked out of class.”

Jan looked at her with disbelief. “What?” She repeated.

“Remember that professor that hates me for making –according to him- «snarky comments»? Well, he finally found a reason to express his dislike for me and asked me to leave.” She crossed her arms on her chest. “I wasn’t going to stay quiet when –in addition, to invisibilize women in art- he also tried to erase the queerness of the artists. No, not on my watch.”

“What a pig.” Nicky shook her head. “I can’t believe he had the nerve to kick you out because you called him out.”

“Oh, trust me, this isn’t the end of it. I’m filing a complaint and leaving that class. I’m done.”

“I’m sorry, Jackie. I know you liked the subject, too bad the professor is a jerk.” Jan tapped her shoulder softly.

The brunette got stiff by the sudden touch. She cleared her throat before speaking again. “Anyway… it sucks because I need the credit and it’s the only class that fits into my schedule.”

“Maybe there’s a way to fix it, talk with the administration or something.” Jan did what she did best, being undeniably positive.

“Yeah… maybe. But enough of that, I need a cup of coffee.”

As if she had read Jackie’s mind, a waitress approached and it wasn’t any other than…

“Hello, girls!”

“Crystal? You work here?” Jan asked.

The girl nodded. “I started yesterday.” She smiled brightly.

She had a blue apron with the café’s name on it over her clothes and Jan swore her hair –covered in colorful hair clips- was different than last time she saw her not even two days ago.

“Congratulations! That’s great!”

“Thank you. I had to drop one of my classes but I needed the job.”

Jackie grunted. “Please let’s not talk about dropping classes.” She began massaging her temples.

“Right! I’m here to take your order.” She pulled out a tiny notebook covered in glitter from her pocket and a unicorn gel pen. “I’m ready.”

“I think you have to say «what can I get you?»” Nicky commented.

“Oh, you’re right… Let me try again. What can I get you?” She repeated in an extremely polite voice.

“I’ll have a hot chocolate please.” Jan pointed at the menu.

“And I’d like a hazelnut latte.” Jackie followed.

“For me, a caramel macchiato.” The blonde finished the order.

“Perfect… so hot chocolate, hazelnut latte, and caramel macchiato.” Crystal checked her notes. “Right away.”

“Thank you.” They said and with that, the ginger left and then turned around.

Jan watched her go.

“I should get a job too.” She pouted. “I don’t want to ask for extra money from my parents, they are helping with the other half the scholarship and they are paying for my brother’s tuition too.”

“I work at the mall near here and there’s always something to do there. You could come with me later and ask around.” Nicky mentioned.

“I didn’t know that, what do you do?”

“I’m on the cosmetics section. I do people’s makeup during the weekends and convince them to buy products.”

“Of course you do…”

“What would you like to do?” Jackie inquired in the meantime she rearranged the sweeteners of the table.

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I’ve had part-time jobs before. I used to work at an ice cream parlor. That was fun not to mention I had free ice cream. Then I worked at the post office, that wasn’t as much fun, it involved a lot of boxes… and during my senior year, I was the secretary of a dental office that… well, definitely wasn’t fun but I got to meet the same customers that were regulars on the ice cream parlor.”

Jackie and Nicky burst into laughter.

“You’ll do well…” The blonde assured.

“We can write your resume later and print it in the copy room.” Jackie suggested.

“That’s a great idea. Yeah, let’s do it.”

At that moment, Crystal returned with their drinks.

“Well, let’s see… I’ll put these over here, here and… here.” She placed the cups carefully and sighed with relief when everything stayed in place. “Great… Let me know if you need me.” She hummed.

“Thank you, Crystal!” Jan was going to leave a good tip for her friend.

When she turned around, they all exchanged misplaced cups in the blink of an eye.

“She’ll get better… hopefully.” Jackie added some sugar and took a sip of her coffee.

Jan drank some of her chocolate; the whipped cream created a mustache above her cupid’s bow and got the brunette looking fondly at her before taking a napkin and cleaning the corner of her mouth. Nicky raised an eyebrow but before she could say something, someone else showed up.

It was a girl that most definitely looked like a supermodel with her matching glen check pattern outfit consisting of a cropped jacket and a mini skirt with accents of yellow fabric and a belt with chains hanging from it along with a pair of black thigh-high boots. Her blonde hair framed her face and was tied on the back on a half up half down hairstyle.

“Hey, Nicky, did you finish the assignment for today’s class? And if you did, did you have any difficulty submitting it?” She looked upset, stressed.

“Uh… no. Maybe it’s because that paper is due tomorrow and the submission time starts… tomorrow?”

“Oh, thank God.” She sat on the only left empty chair with no need of an invitation and sighed letting all the air out of her lungs.

Their little table couldn’t accommodate more people so they squished even more.

Nicky turned to Jackie and Jan. “This is Gigi, she’s a classmate of mine and she actually lives in the same dorms as us. Gigi, do you remember my friend Jackie? And this is Jan, resident of the C dorm.”

The other blonde girl waved. “Hi, sorry… that was rude. I was freaking out due to that assignment.” She took a deep breath. “Hi, Jackie… I do remember you and Jan, we’re neighbors.”

“That’s great!” Jan smiled at her. “So you’re a fashion major too?”

She nodded. “I’m a sophomore as well but I’m a year younger than everyone else because of technicalities and my mom sending me to kindergarten one year earlier.”

“We’re the same age then. That’s cool.”

Gigi smiled, she was beautiful.

“How are you adapting to-” She was going to ask Jan something when she lowered her head in an attempt to hide behind Jackie. “Oh shit.”

“Gigi, what is it?” Nicky whispered.

“She’s here.” Gigi tried to descend even more.

“Uhm… who’s here?” Jackie looked around.

“She! She’s here right now… Oh God…” The girl seemed nervous and her cheeks were tinted in soft pink. “So, uh… there’s this girl who lives in our dorm I guess and I’ve bumped into her a couple of times before but… I don’t know, she’s like…” She blushed harder.

“Gigi Goode... The Gigi Goode is possibly… intimidated by someone?” Nicky gasped.

“Shhh… shut up… no… yeah… maybe. I don’t know. I’m gay and single, leave me alone.”

“Wait but how does she look like?” Jan also tried to find her among the crowd. They all were whispering.

“Oh my God… she’s coming… she’s walking in this direction, why is she walking in this direction? Never mind she has an apron.”

But it was Crystal who appeared next to Jan. “Hey guys, everything’s okay over here? Do you need something else?” She inquired, completely clueless.

The three remaining girls looked at Crystal, then at Gigi, and then at Crystal again as if it was a ping pong game.

“Oh, hey! I hadn’t seen you there, would you like me to bring something for you?” She asked Gigi while pulling out her Crystalcore things.

The blonde girl nodded and recovered the posture a little. “Uh… matcha… that’s the green thing… yeah… latte. Green tea?”

“Matcha tea latte?”

She nodded mechanically again.

“Alright, anything else?” The other girls shook their heads. “I’ll be right back.”

“Thank you.” Gigi’s voice sounded high-pitched.

Once Crystal left, all eyes were on the blonde once again.

“Oh my… I fucked up, didn’t I?”

Nicky’s jaw had dropped to the floor. “Wait, hold on a minute… you like her?”

“Shhh… God, Nicky, she could hear you or something.” Gigi pressed her hand on her chest, feeling her heart beating fast. “I didn’t know she worked here.”

Jan was trying to contain a smile, her lips turned into a thin line, meanwhile, Jackie stirred her lukewarm coffee.

“Uh… You know that’s my roommate, right?” Nicky smirked.

At that moment, Gigi almost fainted. Her face went from reddish to pale in a second and her eyes were full of terror as if she had seen a ghost.

“Excuse me, she’s your what?!”

“My roommate? Crystal? The girl with orange hair? I’ve told you about her. The one that put stickers on the notes she leaves me? She forgot her key three times in the span of a day? The one that –allegedly- accidentally shot a confetti cannon in our room and since then it feels like the place coughs confetti here and there? Rings your bell?”

That had been a good day, Jan recalled.

“Wait- That’s your Crystal? Your Crystal is my Crystal?” She covered her mouth after saying those words.

Jackie and Jan exchanged an amused look.

“Your Crystal?” Nicky tilted her head.

“I mean… that’s not what I mean…” She cleared her throat. “please don’t tell her I have a crush on her this is already too embarrassing for me… I could die like a Sim… of embarrassment, it’s a real thing, you know?”

“Relax, I won’t say a word and I’m sure the girls won’t either, right?” Jan and Jackie nodded.

Gigi seemed relieved. “Thank you… I can’t believe she’s your roommate.” She buried her face in her hands.

“I can’t believe you feel intimidated by her, she has a One Direction poster in our room.”

“There are so many things clicking in my head right now please leave your message after the tone. Beep.”

Jackie moved her hand in front of her eyes without getting a response. “I think you broke her, Nicky.”

“She’ll be fine. Plus, Crystal is bringing her tea right now.”

“Fuck…” She said as if was a reset command.

“Here you have.” The ginger placed the smoky cup in front of her. “I hope you enjoy it.” She smiled and winked before leaving.

Gigi gulped.

“Uh, Gigi, I’m not an expert but judging by the color of the beverage, that’s not what you ordered.” Jackie pointed out.

But the blonde wasn’t even looking at her. “I don’t care; this is the most delicious drink existing in the entire universe right now.”

“What’s that though?” Nicky tried to touch the cup but Gigi slapped her hand.

“No touching.” She glared at her classmate.

“Yeah, I feel like we’re going to be good friends.” Jan thought about it aloud.

“Alright, all set.”

Jackie let a big sigh out of her chest when she left the administration office; Jan had been waiting for her outside. They had gone there straight after leaving the café when Nicky and Gigi left for their class. On their way to the building, she had tried to cheer Jackie up by telling the entire confetti cannon anecdote in full detail but even afterward laughing at loud the brunette still seemed afflicted.

“I’ve submitted my complaint and the head administrator told me that the board will look into it. Until then, they said that most classes are already full so they’ll have to look for a different solution and they’ll contact me via e-mail or I’ll have to drop by next week.”

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it? They’ll tell you what the next step is. It can only get better from here.”

“I hope so.” She shrugged. She didn’t sound fully convinced, though.

Jan checked the time on her phone. “Hey, we still have some time before your shift starts, we can hang out or something…”

Jackie bit her inner cheek. “I don’t know…”

Jan touched her shoulder gently. “Jackie, I hate you seen you like this. There has to be something that makes you feel at least one percent better.”

She looked at her with her big puppy eyes and Jackie couldn’t say no to her.

“Okay… there’s something that always makes me feel better.” She gave in.

“I’m listening.”

Jackie’s eyes sparked.

“No way…” Jan looked around. “This is awesome!”

They had gone upstairs –climbing several stairs-, to a place that wasn’t on the maps of the campus. Jackie had led the way without revealing a single detail –even when Jan asked many, many questions on their way there- she had said it was a surprise and that she didn’t want to spoil it. Finally, as they were climbing those endless stairs, her mood got a bit better.

They reached a single green metal door, it was locked but the brunette pulled a key from her set and opened it. The door led to a little hidden rooftop garden with a few hanging plants and flowers in terracotta pots, there was also a set of recycled wood chairs and an unvarnished coffee table rough around the edges. But without any doubt the most stunning part of that small place was the view, it was the perfect spot to contemplate most of the green areas of the campus including some of the park across the street nearby the café. It was almost noon and the sun hit the opposite side but in a few hours, it would be probably the best viewpoint of the sunset.

“What is this place?” The younger kept inspecting everything.

Jackie closed the door behind them. “It used to be a project made for a group of students to raise awareness about the use of recycling materials but since they all graduated no one really knows it exists. I accidentally discovered it last year when I took a photography class and spotted it with my camera from that crossroad.” She pointed with her index finger. “I did some research and the janitor gave me the key after asking… when I was done with the assignment, she let me keep it with the promise I would do some maintenance once in a while and keep the plants alive. And since then, I come here when I need to be alone or when I’m upset… like today.”

Jan stared at her. “I’m sorry that you had to drop that class.”

“I didn’t want to quit, you know? I thought I was going to be able to handle it, by giving up I feel like I let him win…”

“No, you didn’t. You don’t have to stand that mistreatment.” She looked the brunette in the eye. “I’m glad you did it; don’t let it be a defeat, it doesn’t have to be one.”

“Thank you.” A weak smile appeared on her face.

“I’m gonna hug right now, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“No, you don’t have to…”

“But I want to. C’mon, come here.” She extended her arms widely. “If you don’t let me hug you I’m going to hug myself and it’s going to be lame and I’m going to be sad.”

Jackie chuckled. “Okay, I guess…”

“Yay!” Jan jumped directly to her and wrapped her arms around her.

Jan’s shampoo smelled like almonds and honey. Her embrace made Jackie feel warm inside. Clouds could’ve been made of cotton and the sky was the bluest she had ever seen.

“You see? This is nice.” The younger still held her.

“Yeah, nice…” Jackie closed her eyes and for a moment, it was all right.

They stayed there for a little while. Jackie would have to go to the copy room soon and Jan had her class after lunch. During the time they were there, Jan played some music on her phone and they talked about what had happened earlier in the café. They agreed that it was sweet that Gigi had a crush on Crystal; Jackie watered the plants and told her the story of how she had met the blonde through Nicky. Later on, she sat on one of the chairs while Jan played hopscotch with the cracks in the concrete; she sang softly the song that was playing Hey There Delilah.

“You have a good singing voice,” Jackie mentioned.

“Huh? Me? Oh… I didn’t… I just sing for fun sometimes.” She suddenly felt coy.

“I mean it. It sounded lovely.”

“You’re just being nice. You haven’t heard Rosé or Lagoona, they are amazing.”

“They could tell you. I’m sure they’d agree with me.”

“I could never sing in front of them.” She looked mortified.

“You’d do well.”

“Are you serious right now?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“I don’t know…” Jan shrugged.

The music stopped and the alarm she had set went off.

“We have to go.” The younger announced. “I’ll walk with you to the copy room and then I’ll grab something to eat.”

“Okay. Let me close the door.”

She waited until the brunette was done and they started walking downstairs.

“I wish I could work with you, wouldn’t that be fun?” Jan casually mentioned.

“Well, you’re there all the time anyway.”

“Does it bother you?”

Jackie shook her head and smiled. “No, not at all.”

“I don’t understand it.” Jan lied on the table of the study room. “I have applied for every job available at the mall and still, no response and no results.”

“Ow, baby,” Rosé ruffled her hair. “I’m sure you’re going to find something soon.”

Lagoona lifted her gaze from the textbook. “I wish I could help but the restaurant where I work is full.”

“I thought you hated that place?” Jan turned toward her.

“I do, but the tips are good.” She highlighted a sentence with her pastel marker.

She was already studying for an upcoming presentation. Rosé was memorizing the lines of a play and she got Jan there to read the other part. Now they were on a break. The pink-haired girl was drinking peach soda from a can in the meantime Jan whined for her failed job search. Lagoona –whose blue hair was beginning to fade a little- googled some job offers in the area and read them at loud.

“There are a few that sound pretty disgusting if you ask me. I didn’t know the classified ads could be this kinky.” She frowned and put her phone down.

“Hey, what about that place?” Rosé snapped her fingers. “Goona, do you remember? The diner that’s a couple of blocks from here? We used to go there all the time during our freshman year.”

“Oh, yes. That was a nice place, didn’t we stop going there because your ex-roommate worked there?”

Rosé’s expression turned sour. “Yeah… but she got fired or quit, I don’t know. The point is, they were always hiring people, maybe you could ask there?”

“And you’ve waited this long to tell me?” Jan cried. “It’s been three agonizing days.”

“They are open now so you could-”

“Bye, guys! See you later.” She grabbed her things, threw them into her backpack, and dashed out just to return a couple of seconds later. “Yeah, so I don’t know where it is.”

Jan held her breath before walking past the door.

The diner was decorated in a retro style. It had black and white floor tiles, a long bar, red stools, chairs and booths, round tables, neon signs, vinyl albums and posters of classic Hollywood stars on the walls, lamps hanging from the ceiling, and even a functional jukebox. A few people were sitting at the bar, it was still early for dinner so almost everyone was having a milkshake or some ice cream.

Jan was welcomed by a girl with dark wavy hair in a striped red and white dress with a little white apron on. The name «Denali» was written on her tag.

“Welcome to Lucky’s, would you like a table or a seat on the bar?” She smiled and a pair of dimples appeared on her face.

“Hi, I was wondering if you have a job application for me or… if you were hiring right now?”

“Oh,” She lowered her notebook. “You wanna work here? Okay, just give me a second. You can sit over there.” Denali pointed at one empty table.

“Sure.” Jan held her backpack close to her body and moved to the booth.

Denali returned shortly after with a pen and a paper sheet in her hands.

“In normal circumstances, you’d have an interview with the manager but since he’s God knows where and I’m in charge in the meantime, I’m going to let you complete this form and then ask you some questions…”

“Alright, yeah.”

“I’ll be back in a moment.”

Jan filled the form with basic information, her full name, birth date, age, address, phone number, e-mail, etc. When she was done, she observed Denali serving customers, she moved like her feet weren’t touching the floor, with a full tray on her hands as if it weighed nothing, all with a giant smile on her face. She made it look easy.

“Everything alright?” She asked before sitting in front of Jan.

“Yes, I’m done.” She returned the paper sheet.

Denali scanned it, collecting information. “Janice? Okay, you’re a college student.”

“Jan is fine. Yes, I’m a freshman.”

“Aw,” She tilted her head. “I’m going to write my notes in front of you if that’s okay.” Jan nodded. “You haven’t worked as a waitress before, right?”

“No, but I’m a fast learner and I believe I compensate my lack of experience with enthusiasm, I’ve been told.”

She wrote something “Next, uhm… Why do you want to work here?”

“I need a job to pay for my things. As I said, this is my first year of college; I have a partial scholarship and my parents are supporting me from home but I don’t want to become a burden for them.”

“Do you mind if I ask about your scholarship?”

“No, not at all. It’s for baseball.”

“Work!” She nodded. “The last one, you wrote here your potential time schedules and, according to the rules, if you only work have twice per week you’ll have to take two Saturdays per month. Are you fine with that?”

“Sure, I can take any shift that day.”

“Well, Jan, the good news is that I sense we’re going to be besties, so I wrote «overqualified», «fast learner» and «tight schedules but willing to take Saturday’s shifts» which always is a plus.” She smiled at Jan. “I believe you’re going to get a call very soon.”

“Oh my God! Thank you.” Jan grinned. “I really appreciate that.”

“No worries. You’re lucky -no pun intended-, a girl just quit but being completely honest, she was a real bitch. You can’t be worse than her.”

“I’ve heard that before and… I’m okay with that.”

“Alright. I hope I see you soon.” She winked and returned to serve tables.

Jan left the diner with the biggest smile on Earth.

#rpdr fanfiction #jan sport #jackie cox #jankie #crygi #college au #lesbian au #slow burn #pretty in pearls #plastiquedoll #concrit welcome

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black-streak · 5 years ago

Text

Perfectly Planned

Saturday's Alright snippet written for @witchsblackfox

This... Definitely wasn't what I think either of us were expecting, but I got started on it and it just took a life of its own. Apparently my mind decided Tim was too devious for a straight forward fight over this with Bruce. And also too sentimental to not get caught up in the moment instead of reveling in his victory. Oh well, hope you like it!

~---~

The second Bruce told him that he planned to propose to Selina, a mischievous glimmer to his eyes, Tim came to an abrupt realization. He needed to beat him to the punch.

Tim knew for quite some time that Marinette was it for him. There was no maybes or ifs and buts. She was it. He loved her with everything he had and wanted to spend the rest of their lives together. He's known that since they began this relationship. Since she took a bullet for him and stood between him and his family.

Better yet, he knew the feeling was mutual. For once in his life he felt he could securely say that someone loved him unconditionally and would never abandon him no matter what came their way. No fake deaths. No lies for the others safety. No false promises. The two loved each other fully without waver.

It was only a matter of time before they decided to get the law involved and make their claims on each other known to the world.

The problem was that he knew they'd never hear the end of it if his adoptive father married her figurative cat mom. As unrelated as they obviously were and even with Selina only calling Mari her kitten in a motherly claim, the issue stood. The two marrying would lead to endless teasing over him dating his figurative sister. And Bruce obviously knew this.

That… was not something he was willing to deal with. So the race against the clock was on. Tim needed to propose to Mari and marry the woman of his dreams before Bruce could work up the nerve to ask Selina. And knowing Selina, she would be offended if Bruce piggybacked off Tim's proposal or took the spotlight off her kitten's moment or special day. So as long as he proposed first, they were in the clear.

It took very little time to set up. As horrific as buying a ring for a literal fashion powerhouse sounded, it actually made this easier. Marinette had always been forthcoming with her opinions on everything fashion related. He knew exactly what she did and didn't like from bands to stones and gems to cuts and sizing. Ordering the ring took more time then he felt comfortable with, but he refused to let timing get in the way of creating the perfect ring. Marinette was anything but traditional and straightforward and her ring deserved to reflect this.

Three silver bands twisted together intricately with moonstones and tiny diamonds peaking out between the folds. The bands themselves had softly engraved swirls stretching across them to give texture and movement. He already knew she would end up picking sunstones for his own band to contrast.

...

Waiting for the email to pick up the ring threw his anxiety through the roof, to the point his family took notice.

"Alright, I'll bite. What are you hyperfixating on so much? You didn't even bitch when I stole your drink," Jason spoke up next to him from where he leaned up against the counter. Tim glanced over towards the bedroom.

"She left an hour ago," Jason raised an eyebrow in disbelief, "something about fabric."

"I'm waiting for an email."

"And a notification won't cut it? Have to glare down your laptop instead?"

"When did you even get here?"

"You invited me for breakfast, ditz. I helped Mari make it? You even participated by cutting the fruits," Jason teased, though his eyes looked concerned.

"Oh.."

"So the email?"

"Mari's engagement ring should be finished today."

"No shit? That's great, babybird, you're making it official."

"It should be done by now."

Clapping a hand on his shoulder he offered a flippant, "It'll be done when it's done. Can't rush perfection."

Tim grumbled in response.

"You know she'll say yes."

"I know."

"Then what- wait. Didn't Bruce mention possibly proposing to Selina soon?"

Tim slanted his eyes up to his older brother, a smirk working its way up onto his mouth, "it'll be delayed for a while if I have my way."

Jason barked out a laugh, "Your little fox really rubbed off on you. You plan on hijacking his proposal, don't you?"

"You heard Selina, Mari is her kitten. Her only daughter."

"And her mother cat marrying our adoptive father wouldn't work too well for you," the grin on his brother's face grew wider.

"Precisely. So if we marry first, it'll be a matter of our in laws trying to marry each other. Making them the creepy ones."

"You devious little shit. Pixie know you're planning this?"

His face went blank staring off into the distance, prompting Jason to chuckle again.

"Is the pleasure of one upping Batman and Catwoman better than the surprise of being proposed to?"

"I'd tell her if I were you. She seems the type to be on board for this type of scheme, but thinking the proposal had nothing to do with anyone else then finding out it was to beat out your parents afterwards?" Jason rose an eyebrow at him, a deadpan look letting Tim connect his own dots.

"I'll tell Mari tonight."

"Smart bird."

"Tell me what?" Marinette asked, appearing through the front door with bags thrown over her shoulder.

"What have we said about fabric in the house?"

"That it doesn't belong here," she pouted, "I'll drop it off at the studio soon?"

He narrowed his eyes at her and she placed the bags by the door, moving up to him, "Promise?"

He huffed and dragged her into a hug, letting her go to hug Jason in turn. Tim's laptop chose this moment to light up with an email notice. Before he could fully turn around, she turned and peered over his shoulder in curiosity.

"Mon Amour?"

"Yes?"

"Is that?"

"It is."

She squealed in excitement, bouncing lightly in place until he turned so she could smother him in kisses. Suddenly pulling back, she perked up even more.

"What's it look like? Colors? Band type?"

"You'll find out," he smiled softly at her, wrapping his arms securely around her waist

Jason coughed to grab their attention, "Congratulations."

"Thank you!" She wiggled in place, pleased with this development.

"He's got something else to tell you."

"Oh?" She tilted back to her almost fiance. Fiance! This was so exciting!

"We're crashing Bruce's proposal."

"His… he's planning on proposing to Selina?"

"Soon, yes."

She stood there quietly for a moment, looking at him carefully before nodding, "okay."

"Okay?" Jason asked.

"Okay," she shrugged, "I made a bet with Selina that Tim would propose before Bruce would. Never told her we had already discussed marriage and knew it was inevitable unlike those two."

"You two were made for each other," Jason gave an exasperated groan as Tim laughed.

Glancing back at the email once more, she pulled Tim to her again, kissing him long and deep, thrilled with how soon their engagement was.

"Oh god. Alright, hold on, I'm leaving!" Jason grabbed his jacket and rushed towards the door. "Could you hold off for two fucking seconds?" he called as he caught a glimpse of Mari taking off Tim's shirt and slamming the door behind him.

She giggled against his lips as he pulled her flush against him, "should we celebrate?"

"Mmm."

…

The whole family had been invited over for Sunday night dinner at the Manor, including Selina. Knowing the older man and his desire to include the family in any large changes or decisions, Tim knew this was the night. Bruce planned to propose tonight. While Mari and him had practically become engaged weeks before with his buying of the ring, he hadn't technically proposed or made it family knowledge yet. No one but Jason knew Tim planned to beat the man to the punch and decided to come to dinner for once just to watch the show.

He dressed slightly better than his usual hoodie and ragged jeans in preparation, pulling on a soft gray cowl necked sweater, the neckline crossing down in the front with a shark tooth closure. Black fitted jeans and boots completed the look. Marinette would appreciate him wearing something she made for him.

Speaking of, she wore a light blue swishy cardigan over a gray top with black jeans and blue lace up booties, having partially coordinated to his own on purpose.

As the dinner started, food being passed around and the family antics starting up around them, Tim felt a touch of anxiety slip through him only to settle as Mari wrapped her fingers around his, squeezing gently in reassurance. Taking a deep breath, he settled in, noticing a similar tension in Bruce's stance, only no relief came to the man as the courses continued. He had calculated that Bruce would attempt to propose right after dessert was being cleared. Right when family announcements usually began. Tim would propose right after dessert was placed, just close enough to Bruce's to make the man feel cut off, but early enough that dessert could feel celebratory. Which worked perfectly considering he asked Alfred to make pain au chocolats since Marinette never got to enjoy properly made ones anymore. Sure, the pastry didn't quite fit the occasion, but she would appreciate it and that was all cared about.

Alfred came out with dessert and passed it around, squeezing Tim's shoulder gently as he passed and sat beside Jason, wanting to watch his grandson's engagement. Taking a deep breath, he squeezed Marinette's hand softly and lifted from his seat, pushing it back and out of the way to kneel in front of her.

"Ma loutine-"

"Yes!"

"Let me finish," he almost giggled, smile lighting up his face, "My love, you're the most intelligent, ruthless, beautiful person I have ever met. In all the time I've known you, you have been so amazingly considerate and patient with me. Whether it be because I took too long to seek you out or stop your bad habits from taking over to when you return the favor by dragging my idiotic self back home from a work binge or help me with my work when I get caught up in my head. I think back on that night you stumbled into the kitchen and dragged me into the living room at 3 in the morning to watch stupid vines with you as the most wonderful start to anything in my life. And that's exactly what that was, only a start of our time together. I can't fathom the idea of ever parting from you, Ma lutine. So here, in front of the insane, batshit crazy family you'd have to agree to becoming part, which I'm really starting to regret reminding you of, I'm asking you please. Will you marry me?"

She leaned down, tears glittering ever so gently in the corners of her eyes to press a sweet kiss to his lips, whispering, "Yes."

He pressed up into her, pulling the ring out of the box he'd yet to open and slipping it onto her finger before pulling away and smiling widely to his family, "She said yes," he giddily informed to the sound of his family's cheers, excitement and joy bursting through his chest despite knowing she would. It still felt like a revelation to know he got to marry her. It was then she exclaimed, having finally looked down at her ring. She pushed into his lap, regaining his full attention to wrap him up in a hug, "I love it! It's so perfect, Tim, how did you even get this?" She marveled.

"Well show us," Stephanie demanded, Selina beside her, looking over curiously.

Twisting around, she showed off the ring to the two, Cass whistling in appreciation next to them.

"Well done, Tim. Knew you were a perfectionist, but it surely shines through with your choice," Selina complimented, slipping a few bills into Marinette's hands discretely.

"That was quite a proposal, Tim. Congratulations to the both of you," Bruce offered, a strained smile on his face, not able to hold a grudge against the two with how excited and genuinely happy they looked. After all, it's not like he ever told Tim exactly when he would propose to Selina and he couldn't exactly wait around for Bruce to figure it out.

For now, he'd have to be happy for them and pray Selina didn't bite his head off for letting two of his sons marry before popping the question himself.

#timinette #timari #ml x dc #Snippet #saturdays alright #may not of participated in Timari week #but hey I wrote something for the pair right?#maribat

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vegalocity · 4 years ago

Note

Fluff 25 for a Mabifica and Lumity double date, please?

Prompt meme || @starsfic

“I think (she/he/they/I) rubbed off on you.”

Brb making up some backstory bullshit

“And so I looked Emperor Belos right in the eye and said 'I may have lost but so have you!' and I SLAMMED the magic staff down and the fire glyphs all ignited at once and blew up the magic door!”

“Wowzers! That sounds incredible! And you were fourteen?”

“Yup! Not bad for a Freshman huh?”

“Not bad at all! I was in Seventh grade when my brother and I fought our Boss Battle! And Bill wasn't an easy corn chip to fight!”

“Evil cornchip? With a silly name? Well now you have to tell me THAT story!”

“...well I'm legally obligated in the state of Oregon to answer that with 'Never mind all that!'....but we're in California SO HERE GOES-”

Luz and Mabel were leaned over the shared table, both ranting excitedly about their adventures from their early teens. Luz's adventure was about four years ago, Mabel a solid six years, and they only had recently met in their recently ended shared senior year, and had decided to set this up.

“You get the feeling WE might be tagalongs on THEIR date?” Luz's green haired girlfriend—Amelia? Some sort of 'A' name—leaned in and whispered conspiratorially in Pacifica's ear.

“No doubt.” She responded equally quietly, but it wouldn't have mattered, Mabel's boisterous storytelling easily drowning her words out if one wasn't paying attention.

“And Pacifica had to borrow my Llama sweater because she was basically wearing a potato sack by that point-”

“Hey! I wasn't exactly wearing an outfit built for exercise when the whole thing hit! I'd like to see you keep a whole look in order while you're running for your life!”

“It's not hard.” the green haired girlfriend—Amity, she remembered after a beat—Spoke up. “Luz and I destroyed Gromethus bringer of terror in our Grom dresses.” She paused for a second “Well, dress and Skirted pantsuit.” Amity shot her a smile, a challenge.

“Oh it was that easy for you?” Well if that was the challenge then far be it for her to turn down. “Well I'll have you know that the Wierdpocalypse was a little more challenging than one monster. And if we're talking singular showdowns I fought a level ten ghost in a floor length gown without getting a spot of mud on my dress!”

“Oh boy...” Luz muttered as Amity leaned forward onto her arm. “This ain't good.”

“Paz, it's not a contest...” Mabel tried to gently pull her away.

“Did you know that Luz discovered—entirely on her own—an entirely different way to cast spells and perform magic that was lost centuries of not millenia ago!”

“Well Mabel took out an entire Gnome kingdom with only a leafblower! And she's legally a congresswoman for life!”

“Yeah? Well Luz dismantled an oppressive regime and saved her home dimension!”

“Mabel did all of that before she was even technically a teen!"

“...They're gonna keep going on like this, aren't they?” Luz leaned over to whisper to Mabel.

“Yeah probably.” Mabel huffed. “What's 'Luzura' anyway? I heard you guys talking about it earlier..”

“Oh! Good Witch Luzura! See it's this story I had in my head when I was younger, I tried publishing it on the Boiling Isles, but... schenanigans... Anyway Amity's been helping me work on the story so it isn't as much of an Azura clone as it was when I was fourteen.” Luz continued on as Mabel eagerly listened. Pacifica and Amity's game of 'my girlfriend is cooler than yours' passed until their entrees got to the table.

And when the entrees were gone Luz and Mabel continued their discussion, now deep in depth about the practicalities of grappling hooks in battle.

“Hey, what are those things stitched onto your cardigan sleeves?” Amity was apparently uninterested in their pre-dinner challenge.

“Hm?”

“I'm not super familiar with the creatures of the human world.” Amity tucked a lock of hair behind her pointed ear and Pacifica was forcibly reminded just why their double date was taking place in Piedmont, where the Pines Twins brought weird with them like a storm brings rain. “And those things look... kinda like horses, but too long. And they're not giraffes I don't think...”

“They're llamas.” Pacifica explains, holding the sleeve of her cardigan across the table for Amity to better examine. “They're South Ame... They're from the mountains in the far south and they have really sturdy fur, Mabel actually made this for me out of llama hair.”

“....Didn't she say in that story that you borrowed her sweater with a llama on it?” Pacifica shrugged.

“It was my part of the Prophecy wheel. Never got around to returning the sweater and it rubbed off on me.”

“I think she rubbed off on you.” Amity grinned around her drink at Pacifica “Way before you two got together.”

“Oh most certainly.” Pacifica agreed. “But you can't look me in the eye and say nothing of Luz rubbed off on you.” Now it was Amity's turn to shrug.

“Well, fair enough.”

Send me stuff!

#Mabifica #Lumity #vega writes stories too #Starsfic #Letters to vega #No beta we die like men #Catch Paz and Amity getting into a phsyical fight on who has the cooler girlfriend #writingamongther0ses

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theydontknowaboutusimagines · 5 years ago

Text

The Set Up - Harry Styles One Shot (Part 4)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

“Hypotheical, my ass!” Gemma smirked crossing her arms as she watched the two of you quickly remove yourselves from one another with lipstick both smeared across your faces.

Both of you glanced at the other, trying to form an explanation, but it was obvious neither one of you could come up with anything.

“Uh, hey, Gem, what are you doing here?” You asked while Harry tried wiping off the lipstick residue from his lips.

“I could ask my brother the same thing,” she smirked.

“Unlike my sister, I actually asked before coming over,” Harry pointed out. “Why are you here?”

“Well, I thought I’d stop by to check in on my best friend and find out why I had to find out she went on a date with my brother on a podcast!” She said.

“Technically, I didn’t say who it was that I went out with,” you said.

“Yeah, well, it was him, obviously,” she said.

“You know, could we like, I don’t know not have this fucking conversation in the hallway,” Harry muttered.

“But it’s okay for you to having a fucking snogging fest in the hallway,” she smirked pushing herself into the flat.

“How did you even get inside?” Harry asked while you closed the door.

“I’ve got the code,” She smirked.

“She’s checked in on my place when I’ve traveled,” you shrugged.

“Is something burning?” Gemma sniffed.

“Shit!” You groaned rushing to the kitchen.

The pasta you were making was now stuck to the pan and the veggies in the skillet were shriveled up and blackened.

“So, who wants pizza?” You asked.

“I’ll make the call,” Harry sighed grabbing his phone from his pocket.

While he was off doing that, Gemma walked over to you as you tried cleaning th pans.

“Seriously, why didn’t you tell me?” She groaned.

“Because maybe we were waiting to make sure this actually went somewhere,” you said.

“That’s understandable, I guess, but still,” she said. “I asked you and you said nothing!”

“I didn’t say nothing,” you said. “I just omitted some of what had happened.”

“Same fucking thing!” She groaned. “You always tell me everything.”

“This is different,” you sighed.

“I know, I know, but I already told you,” she said. “Everything we talk about is confidential between you and I.”

“Lay off it, Gem,” Harry rolled his eyes. “I didn’t tell you either and for good reason.”

“Like what?” she asked looking over at him.

“Besides the fact that you want to know everything going on between us, you’re just boasting about the fact that you were right,” he said. “Quit frankly I’m surprised you haven’t actually uttered those words yet.”

“What was that?” She smirked.

“For fuck’s sake, I’m not saying it again,” he said.

“No, no, I think you should,” she said. “Because you don’t say it as often as you should.”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” He groaned.

“Not when there’s pizza on the way,” She smirked. “Ooh, is that wine. I’ll grab some glasses.”

“So, she does this to you, too?” Harry laughed.

“Yep, on more than one occasion. Although, this is the first time she’s walked in on me with a guy,” you said.

“Glad, I could be the first,” he smirked wiggling his eyebrows.

You rolled your eyes with a laugh, pushing him away from you a bit. You both looked over at Gemma, who was watching the two of you with a huge smirk on her face, holding three glasses of wine.

“You two are so fucking cute!” She said.

“Oh my god,” Harry groaned putting his thumb and forefinger at the bridge of his nose.

“What?” Gemma asked. “It’s the truth and all thinks to moi.”

“And there it is,” Harry said.

“You’ll thank me eventually,” she said walking into the living space.

“This is not how I planned this night to go,” he whispered with a pout.

“And how exactly did you plan this to go?” You smirked looking at him.

He quickly blushed realizing how his words could have come across, “I uh, I didn’t mean, that, just that I was planning on, you know, uh, just, being able to talk to you without a screen or my sister,” he said.

You giggled, “I know what you meant,” you smiled kissing his cheek.

The doorbell rang signaling the pizza was being delivered, “I’ll get it,” Harry said squeezing your hand and hading for the door.

A few weeks have gone by, making it almost a month, since you and Harry had met. Things were going great between the two of you and you couldn’t be happier with how things were progressing. Neither of you had brought up the topic of being exclusive and moving into a relationship yep, and most of your time spent together was still on the PG-13 side of things.

However, it was getting harder and harder to stop things from progressing. It wasn’t that either of you didn’t want to take things further, it was more of you two didn’t want to move too fast, too soon. Most of your dates took place in either his house or your flat, on the rare occasion you two would go out to dinner, it was usually in a more private setting or with a small group of friends.

You still hadn’t introduced or talked about who you were dating at the office, not because you didn’t trust them, but it was still new, and again there was a chance it could all end soon once he went off on tour. You hadn’t mentioned the upcoming tour to him and what that might mean for you and him, and neither has he.

You weren’t sure if it was because he didn’t see the two of you being together during that time, or if he just didn’t want to bring it up. You were really hoping it was the latter. The more time you spent with him, the more you could feel yourself falling for him. You were by no means in love with him, but you were definitely feeling something on a another level for him.

That night, you were meeting Harry, a few of his friends, and Gemma out for some drinks at a club. Harry got a driver and would be picking you up from your flat. You decided on a simple outfit, putting on some jeans, a vintage Stevie Nicks t-shirt, a black cardigan sweater, and a pair of platform sneakers. You picked out one of your smaller crossbody bags to put some money, your keys and such inside. Just as you were putting on your lipstick, the doorbell rang.

You smiled making sure you looked okay before heading over to the door. You opened it, revealing Harry standing there with a smile on his face. He was wearing a graphic t-shirt with a sweater, some jeans, and a pair of vans.

“Hey,” he smiled. “Ready to go?”

“Yep,” you smiled walking out the door and locking it behind you.

“How was your day?” He asked slipping his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together.

“Stressful,” you laughed. “But now it’s all better.”

“Hm, would that be because of me?” He asked.

“Actually, yes,” you smiled.

“Good,” he smiled. “My day got better seeing you, too.”

“Oh, rehearsals not going well?” You asked getting on the elevator.

“For the most part they’re going great,” he said. “But today was just, we were trying this new little bit and it just didn’t sound like I thought it would in my head.”

“I’ve been there,” you said. “Not like song wise, but there’s been plenty of articles I’m like, you know that would be a great topic, and then it’s just shit.”

He laughed, “Yeah, but it’s normal to have days like today. When we’ve been rehearsing a lot and going over other details, it gets to be a lot.”

“I can imagine,” you said.

Harry opened the car door for you and you stepped up inside with him following you. As soon as the door was shut, he smirked pulling you in for a kiss. You smiled into the kiss before pulling away and putting on your seatbelt.

“So, are you going to dance with me tonight?” You smirked. “Or should I find someone else.”

Playfully glaring at you, Harry shook his head, “Don’t even think about it.”

You laughed shaking your head, “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t dream of dancing with anyone else.”

“Good answer,” he smirked.

The driver dropped you and Harry at the corner where the club was at. You both walked to the door and went inside. The music was loud as soon as you crossed into the building. The house lights were dark and you could barely see in front of you. Harry was walking closely behind you, not letting you out of his sight.

“Do you know if everyone else is here yet?” You shouted behind you.

“Uh, Mitch and Sarah are,” he said. “Jeff’s on his way and Gem and Micheal are coming a little late.”

You nodded, “Should we get drinks first?”

“I’ll get some bottles,” he said.

“You do that,” you laughed.

“What?” He asked.

“Nothing, just I’ve always just bought drinks,” you said. “How much are bottles?”

“Um, a few hundred probably,” he said. “But everyone drinks from it, so it sort of evens out.”

“I guess,” you said.

“Does it bother you?” He asked.

“No, I mean, it’s just different, you know,” you said.

He nodded and the two of you made it over to a table.

“Hey, man,” Harry smirked doing a weird handshake with Mitch and hugging Sarah.

You had previously met them two other times, so it was super awkward, except it kinda was seeing as how you couldn’t really hold a conversation due to the sound of the music.

“Hi, Y/N,” Sarah smiled. “Nice to see you again.”

“Same here,” you smiled. “How have you been?”

“Tired,” she laughed.

“I bet,” you smiled.

“She’s been killing it at rehearsals,” Harry said nodding towards her.

“Every time,” she smirked.

You laughed and then a waitress came over. Harry ordered three large bottles, one of tequila, wine, and then another of vodka. She nodded with a smirk and got a little too close for your liking when she walked away. You also didn’t appreciate the little glance Harry had made her way as she left. But you tried not to let it get to you.

Up until Gemma came, there was a lot of small talk going and shouting as you all tried having conversations with each other. As soon as she came, you were itching to get out on the dance floor and away from the booth. You weren’t sure why, but you were just feeling super closed in and needed some space. Harry stayed back with the rest of the boys, while the went on the dance floor.

You held your drink in your hand and quickly started dancing and shouting the lyrics to the song being played. You laughed as your arms found their way around Gemma’s shoulders as the two of you jokingly danced together. As you spun around, you happened to glance over towards the table that wasn’t too far from where you were at on the floor.

Once again, the waitress was standing close to Harry and you knew she was simply doing a job, but you didn’t like the way she was flirting with him. Your next move mostly influenced by the amount of alcohol flowing through your veins, but also because you wanted her to get the picture he wasn’t technically single.

You walked over to them and squeezed yourself onto his lap.

“Hey,” you smiled. “When are you going to come dance with me? I’m having to turn offers down left and right.”

“I’ll be there in a bit,” he laughed. “I’m ordering some food.”

“It should be out in just a bit, love,” she smiled touching his arm.

You looked down at her hand and back at her, but she left before you could say anything.

“I know that look,” he said quickly. “She’s just being nice and trying to get a good tip.”

“I’ll give her a good tip alright,” you said. “A tip for her to stay away from my man.”

Harry smirked, “Who’s the jealous one now?”

“Shut up,” you said sticking your tongue out at him.

He laughed, doing the same to you, “Let’s get to the dance floor before she comes back and you give her that tip.”

You smirked pulling him up with you. The two of you made it to the dance floor, you laughed at his dance moves a bit before joining in with him. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Gemma looking at the two of you and you knew she most likely had a smirk on her face. You shook your head at the though before moving closer to Harry and wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“Kiss me,” you told him.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he smirked before pressing his lips against yours.

It was getting pretty late by the time everyone was leaving. You weren’t completely drunk, but you also weren't entirely sober. As you were walking to the car, your arm was around Harry and you laughed as the two of you started leaning over.

“You’re really pretty,” he giggled putting his hand on your face, when he looked down at you.

“Thank you,” you laughed getting into the car and helping him inside.

“Come ‘ere,” he whispered pulling you on top his lap.

“This isn’t exactly safe,” you laughed.

“You’ll be fine, I’ll protect you,” he said nuzzling his face in your neck.

You giggled feeling his breath against the skin of your neck, “That tickles.”

“Hm, you smell good,” he mumbled.

“I’m a sweaty mess, I highly doubt that,” you laughed, running your hands through his hair. “You, too.”

“Heeey! I don’t smell,” he defended. “Plus, that’s not very nice.”

“Aw, did I hurt your feelings?” You giggled putting your hand on his face.

“Yes, you did,” he nodded with a pout.

“I’m sorry,” you said poking his nose.

He scrunched his nose before puckering his lips, “A kiss would make me feel better.”

“Oh, really?” You asked raising an eyebrow.

He nodded, “Yep. Right here on me lips!” He said taking his pointer finger to his lips.

You laughed giving him a short little peck. “There you go.”

He groaned, “Not like that.”

“Hey, you just said a kiss, which I gave you,” you smirked. “Not my fault you weren’t more specific.”

He rolled his eyes, “Anyway, do you want to stay at my place tonight?”

“I don’t exactly have a change of clothes,” you pointed out.

“Borrow some of mine,” he hiccuped. “I’ve got plenty.”

“Oh, well, in that case you might not get it back,” you joked.

He shrugged,” Prolly looks better on you anyway.”

You laughed, “Fine, but you better make me breakfast in the morning.”

“Sure thing, love,” he smirked.

When the driver arrived at his house, you both got out and you followed Harry to the front door. He pulled his keys out and was fumbling around with him for a bit before finally finding the right key.

“About bloody time,” you groaned. “My bladder is about to explode.”

“Sorry! Sorry,” he laughed pushing the door open.

You quickly darted into his house and rushed to the bathroom. While you were washing your hands, that’s when it dawned on you. You were staying at his house overnight... sleeping in the same bed. This was definitely new territory for the two of you and you weren’t sure what that meant. Even if you wanted to have a conversation about it tonight would not work. Both of you were not capable of having such a big discussion, plus even if you were, you’d rather not have it after a night of drinking anyway.

When you walked out, Harry was in the kitchen, pouring two glasses of water and getting some Advil from the cabinet.

“Milady,” he smiled holding yours out for you to take.

"You know this is your fault, right?” You asked.

“Oh, please tell me how both of us being pissed drunk my fault?” He laughed.

“Because you bought all those bottles!” You said. “It’s not like we could take them home.”

“Well, excuse me,” he laughed. “Come on, I’ll get you some clothes and we can head to bed. I’m exhausted.”

You popped the advil into your mouth before downing the glass of water and following him to his bedroom. He went over to a chest of drawers pulling out some sweats and an old t shirt.

“These okay?” He asked looking over at you.

You nodded, “Thank you,” you smiled.

“You can change in the bathroom, if you want,” he said nervously.

“Okay,” you said before heading in there.

After changing and making some adjustments to his clothes, so they fit you a little better, you found a washcloth to wipe your makeup off and rinse your mouth out with mouthwash before going back out to the bedroom. Harry was already laying on the bed, putting his phone onto the table when you came out.

“So, which side do you sleep on?” He asked.

“The right,” you said.

“Good because I sleep on the left,” he said.

“Hm, interesting,” you said.

“How is that interesting?” He laughed.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who sleeps on the left side,” you said. “I mean as far as someone who doesn’t normally share a bed with anyone. Everyone is usually right side or middle.”

“So, not only did you say I stunk, but now I’m weird?” He said looking at you. “The compliments just keep coming.”

You laughed jumping onto the bed, “Oh, you know I’m joking,” you said.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t try and act all sweet and innocent now,” he said crossing his arms.

“Don’t worry,” you smirked. “I won’t.”

You leaned over towards him placing your lips onto the base of his neck. His body froze at your touch before melting into it as you kissing up the side of his neck.

“Forgive me?” You smirked hovering over his lips.

“Hm, getting there, slowly,” he whispered.

Since you were currently at an angle, you moved over, placing your legs on either side of his sitting on his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers playing with his hair touching just above his neck, before pressing your lips against his. It didn’t take long before he deepened the kiss, pulling you closer to him.

You pulled away for breathe and he moved his lips down to your neck. You bit your lip as you turned your head to the side giving him better access to the skin there. HIs hands were roaming around your back over his shirt and you were itching to take it off, to feel his bare hands against your bare skin.

Just as you were about to take his hand into yours to lift his shirt over your head, he pulled his lips away from you.

“We should probably stop,” he breathed out putting his forehead against.

“No, we don’t have to,” you whispered. “If you’re worried about me, I-”

“No-that’s not, well, I mean I am happy to hear you say that, and as much as I really, really don’t want to stop,” he sighed. “I don't want our first time together to happen after we’ve been drinking all night. I want to be fully sober and aware when we have sex because I want to make sure I remember every second of ever minute and every inch of you,” he whispered looking into your eyes.

“For fuck’s sake,” you groaned hitting his shoulder.

“Ow! What?” He groaned. “What did I say?” “Something extremely fucking hot,” you said. “Hearing you say that only makes me want to fuck you more.”

He laughed, “Sorry,” he winced. “But it’s the truth.”

“No, no, I get it, I do,” you nodded.

“So, you’re not mad?” He asked.

“Not entirely,” you said. “But if we’re stopping, then we should probably actually go to bed now because I can tell you right now, if we don’t, we won’t be able to stop.”

He nodded watching you climb off of him, “I also want you to know that this.. the possibility of us having sex isn’t why I invited you back to my place. I just really didn’t want to say goodbye to you yet.”

You smiled leaning over to kiss his cheek, “And I want you to know that while it did cross my mind, I knew it wasn’t the only reason why you invited me. I know you’re not like that, that we’re not like that. I said yes because I didn’t want to say goodbye to you either.”

He smiled wrapping his arm around you as you both laid back, “Goodnight,” he whispered.

“Goodnight,” you smiled.

The next morning you woke up not in your bedroom. You rubbed your eyes as looked around when you saw Harry laying next to you. His mouth was wide open and his arm was laying across your torso. You giggled as you heard him snoring with a few mumbles. You moved closer to him as he continued to snore. You reached over grabbing his nose and he quickly woke up.

“The fuck,” he groaned shooting up in the bed.

You couldn’t help, but burst out laughing which caused him to playfully glare at you.

“Oh, you think it’s funny?” He asked.

“Kinda, yeah,” you smirked.

“So, is this funny, then?” He smirked tickling your sides.

“Ah! Don’t!” You laughed trying to move away from him.

“You brought this on yourself,” he joked.

“It’s not my fault you were snoring in my face,” You pointed out.

“I do not snore,” he defended.

“Or maybe it’s just been a while since someone’s been here to tell you differently,” you smirked.

“Oooh, really? We’re going for low blows early in the morning, aren’t we?” He laughed.

“Sorry,” you laughed awkwardly.

He laughed pulling you on top of him, “It’s fine.. cause it’s true, actually.”

“Good to know,” you smirked before making your way off the bed.

“Hey! Get back here,” he whined puling you back. “I want a kiss. It’s the least you could do.”

“I’ve got morning breath,” you laughed.

“So, do I,” he laughed.

“Exactly,” you said. “So, we both need to freshen up.”

“Ouch,” he said. “Yet another dig, I’m really starting to question this relationship.”

That made you stop in your tracks looking back at him, “And uh, what relationship would that be, Styles?” You asked raising an eyebrow.

His cheeks turned pink realizing what he said, “Well, I uh, mean, I just uh... figured... I know we haven’t really labeled it, but-”

“Is this your way of asking me to be your girlfriend?” you asked.

“Yes, and I’m fucking it up, right now,” he laughed.

“No, it’s cute,” you giggled. “Adorable, really.”

He blushed harder, “So... is that a yes, then?”

You walked over to him wrapping your arms around his waist, “It’s a big fuck yes,” you smirked.

“Really?” He asked a smile breaking across his lips.

“Yes, really,” you laughed.

He smirked leaning down to kiss you and taking you into his arms.

Okay, so now that they’re together... should this be the end? Or do you want a little bit more... maybe up until he leaves for tour... Let me know what you think!

#One Direction Imagines #Harry Styles Imagines #Harry Styles One Shots

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schrijverr · 4 years ago

Text

Revealing Outfit

Jon invites Martin to stay with him for the weekend, because he felt bad about MArtin having to stay in the Acrhives (no he did not have a crush, shut up). His Mechs outfit is still lying there when they arrive and Martin sees it, causing Jon to accidentally invite him to a concert.

Bit pre-slash and getting together :)

On AO3.

Ships: JonMartin

Warnings: none really, Jon’s a little praise starved. Tell me if you want me to tag something and I will!

~~~~~~~~~

Jon was trying to be better. He knew he had been an asshole to Martin ever since they were moved to the Archives all because he would rather ignore the flutter in his heart and mistake it for irritation at the bumbling, clumsy, adorable, uhm, awkward man.

But, like he said, he was trying to be better. He had stopped insulting Martin at every turn and tried to be nice when the other made a mistake. Especially now that Martin was forced to live in the Archives. Jon felt terrible he hadn’t noticed his own assistant had been taken hostage for two weeks, which is probably why he had offered Martin his couch for the night.

Yes, The Jonathan ‘keep everything separate and professional’ Sims had offered Martin to stay at his place for a few days.

He hadn’t known what had gotten over him when he offered (that was a lie, of course, he knew. Martin had looked so sad? Deflated? At the thought of being alone in the Archives for the weekend again and Jon couldn’t bear it, but that was neither here nor there). The point is, he offered and through a terribly awkward misunderstanding and a quick coming out as asexual, Martin had gladly taken him up on his offer.

Which is how they’d ended up in this situation.

Honestly, Jon had forgotten he had left his outfit so out in the open. He hadn’t expected visitors when he had put it there, so it wasn’t such a stretch it had slipped his mind, but it was awfully embarrassing right now.

A little bit of backstory is perhaps required, you see, Jonathan Sims had a life outside his work, to contrary belief. And it wasn’t even a boring one. He was in a band, a steampunk band of immortal space pirates.

It was just something fun he did with friends and they had quite a dedicated following. They had a small performance this weekend (which Jon hadn’t at all forgotten about when he had offered Martin a place to stay, just to make him smile at Jon) and he had taken his costume to the dry cleaner, because it had gotten soaked in a mixture of sweat and beer last time, which didn’t make for an appealing smell.

He hadn’t taken the time to put it away, finding it useless when he had to get it later anyway. Instead he had hung it over his chair and laid the rest of his costume with it. The outfit was obviously not Jons usual work clothes. The steampunk vest and goggles vastly different than his librarian style cardigans. Which was why Martin had immediately pinpointed as odd when he’d seen it.

Without really thinking about it, he had lifted the article of clothing and frowned at it, before he heard Jon let out a startled cough and he dropped it like it burned, while apologizing.

When Jon was done with his coughing fit he said with pinched voice: “It’s alright, Martin. I left it there.”

“Still, I shouldn’t have just grabbed it. That is highly inappropriate.” Martin insisted.

Wanting to get the clothes out of the way before Martin could get a better look at them, Jon gathered them in his arms quickly and made his way out of the room as he assured Martin that it was really alright.

After he had fled the scene, Jon dropped his costume unceremoniously on the chair in the corner of his room, which also functioned as a closet since it always got covered in clothes throughout the weeks. He sighed in relief that he had made it, until he noticed one part was missing of his ensemble.

His goggles.

He must have dropped them in his haste to get everything out of Martins eyes. Panicked he turned around, hoping they were lying on his bedroom floor. But alas, no such luck was on his side. When he got back to the living room, he found Martin holding them in his hand as he looked at them curiously.

Jon swallowed and Martin met his eyes. Wordlessly he held out his hand and carefully Martin laid it down on Jons palm. Once the object was out of his hands, it seemed Martin regained his ability to speak and he asked: “Why do you have that?”

Immediately his brain caught up with his mouth and he stumbled out: “Not that you have to tell me, of course. No, I was just asking. Doesn’t seem your style. Not that I can judge, sorry.”

Jon cut him off, before it got more embarrassing for both of them. Only then he realized he now had to give at least some explanation, especially since he was going to disappear this weekend and stay out until late, leaving Martin alone in his flat.

Fuck.

This whole thing had been a terrible idea and Jon suddenly remembered why he kept everything nicely separated.

He floundered for a second, then he carefully chose his words: “I, uhm, I had forgotten actually that I had something this weekend, uhm, old uni friends. I, I- I needed to give those back to one of them.”

Internally he cringed at the vague and partially untrue statement. I mean, technically they were uni friends, but this wasn’t going to be that casual and although some of his friends did own goggles in a similar style, those were definitely his own.

“Oh,” Martin replied, “I can still go back to the Archives if that’s better. I wouldn’t want to impose and I assume you wouldn’t want someone you barely know in your flat while you’re gone.”

Jon has never claimed he is not a stupid man and what he did next only cemented that. Martin was already inching back towards the door, face crestfallen. And Jon, Jon quickly said: “Oh no, it really isn’t a problem. You can come if that’ll make you more comfortable.”

A heavy silence hung between them as both processed the words that had just come out of Jons mouth. Jon realized how weird and personal that sounded and he was about to take it all back when Martin said: “If it isn’t a problem, I think I’d like that.”

The retreat died on Jons lips with Martins agreement and smile. Jon just smiled back and said: “Alright, I’ll let them know. It’s going to be pretty loud, I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, thank you. It’ll be good for me to listen to something else than the silence of the Archives for a change.” Martin chuckled, but Jon caught the underlying truth and decided that he couldn’t back down from this, no matter how mortifying it was.

Then he realized how rude he had been and quickly showed Martin to his kitchen where started on some tea. The goggles were still dangling around his wrist and when Martin noticed he told him to put them away, before he damaged them and said he’ll finish the tea.

Grateful for the breather, Jon slipped out the room and into his bedroom where he send a frantically whispered voice recording in the Mechanisms groupschat: “I did something stupid, I accidentally invited a coworker to our show, but I didn’t tell him about anything and he doesn’t know and he’ll find out and it’ll be weird, but I can’t go back now and I don’t know what to do and I need help.”

To avoid suspicion he put his phone away and hurried back to the kitchen. There he had to do a double take, because Martin was sat at his table with two mugs, gently sipping from his cup as he scrolled through his phone.

It was oddly domestic and Jon had to swallow away a lump.

The sound alerted Martin of his presence and he looked up and smiled at him, gesturing at the tea opposite of him. This didn’t help the lump. He silently sat down and started to sip his tea to avoid conversation.

Martin seemed to pick up on it and he stayed quiet as well. They stayed like that for the rest of the afternoon, just sitting together in silence while they did their own thing. Jon broke it to ask Martin what he wanted from the pizza place and then they had a heated discussion when Martin wanted pineapple on his.

They ate on the couch and watched a documentary and Jon could almost forget that this wasn’t his life and it wouldn’t all come crashing down tomorrow.

After that he made up the couch and he and Martin brushed their teeth together. It was peaceful, kind of nice and if Jon had to admit it he missed this in his life. Before he retired to his room Martin called out a soft thanks along with a goodnight from the couch.

Jon returned it equally softly and with a smile. A smile that fell when he was met with the sight of his outfit in the corner. He checked his phone only to find his so called friends laughing at him and offering little support.

He slept little that night, lying anxiously awake, mulling over everything that would go down tomorrow. Only coming out of bed late after he finally fell into a fitful sleep.

Martin was already dressed, when Jon stumbled out in an oversized sweater with small short pajama bottoms. Jon yawned sleepily and rubbed his eyes as he excepted a cup of tea from a heavily blushing Martin.

Once Jon had taken a sip, he realized what the sudden appearance of tea meant and his eyes snapped wide open as he met Martins eyes. He swallowed and looked down at his own state of dress. Then he mumbled: “Sorry, I’m going to get some better bottoms.”

And hurried out of the room, unknowingly giving Martin to compose himself as he tried to imprint the image of sleep ruffled Jon in those pajamas in his mind.

When Jon returned he was dressed in his normal librarian clothes. During the night he had resolved to tell Martin as late as possible what was going to happen, so he would get dressed at the bar where the Mechanisms would be performing.

The rest of the day passed relatively normal. Martin had retreated to the couch with a notebook, while Jon was sitting in the kitchen with some statements, later leaving them in favour of reading on the couch next to Martin in silence.

Then it was time to leave and the nervousness grew inside Jon as they walked towards the little pub. They were pretty early, since Jon wanted to avoid any fans that would throw a wrench in his plan. Inside the others were already setting up. Jon stopped Martin, wanting to tell him what would be happening, before the others could do it for him.

Martin shot him a confused look and Jon came clean: “So, I might have undersold and lied a bit about what is happening, but you have to promise not to tell the others about this. Tim will never let me live this down, please.”

“I don’t- What are talking about Jon?” Martin asked, distressed.

“It’s nothing bad.” Jon assured him, “I’m going to get you settled at a good calm table and you’re going to be fine. I promise.”

“Jon.” Martin did not sound pleased.

“I’m preforming, with my uni band.” Jon blurted out.

“What?” Martin exclaimed.

Jon explained further: “I didn’t want you to ask me questions and stuff, so I lied and then I invited you and I got nervous and I was too afraid to tell you, so I kept it hidden. I’m sorry. You can still go back, I’ll give you my keys.”

Martin hesitated, but they were spotted and Gunpowder Tim called out: “Jonny, there you are! Come on, you need to get dressed and in makeup if you want this to go through. Here, introduce us to your friend.”

Jon looked back to Martin, who nodded. Jon shot him a smile and lead him to the stage, where he quickly introduced everyone. When everything seemed to be going well, he pointed to the table Martin could go sit at, before he left them and slipped away to get in costume.

He was done moments before they had to go on stage. Ashes nodded at him and grinned: “Your friend seems nice. Well informed.”

“Oh shove off.” Jon replied, embarrassed.

But there wasn’t time for more, since it was time to get out there. The Mechanisms stepped onto the stage and all the anxiety slipped from shoulders along with his normal life as he morphed into Jonny d’Ville, Captain (First Mate.)

“Well, I’ll say one thing for this planet, it does produce some spectacularly ugly people.” he started, creating the normal banter with the crowd, he went on: “Killers and vagabonds, liars and thieves. We are the Mechanisms, a band of immortal space pirates roving through the universe on the starship Aurora, having fun wherever possible, violence when necessary and if were very lucky both at the same time.”

He scanned the crowd filled with smiling faces and desperately ignored the corner he knew Martin was in. He didn’t let it show though, as he went on: “Allow me a brief moment of self indulgence to introduce to you, the crew of our mighty starship.”

Jon gestured to the side as he started to introduce everyone next to him on the stage, until he got to himself: “And last, but the opposite of least, myself. Jonny d’Ville, your humble Captain.”

The crowd along with the band corrected him and he grinned, shedding the last bit of nervousness over who he know was in the corner watching as well.

With the adrenaline pumping through him and the energy of the crowd feeding into his confidence, Jon was in high spirits after the very successful performance. He had chatted with some fans that had hung around, but now the pub was mostly empty. The other were packing up and were chatting idly when what Jon had known would happen, but also dreaded, happened.

Martin walked up to him.

Sitting on the edge of the stage, Jon didn’t move, just swallowed heavily as he waited to see the anger in Martins eyes after he’d been lied to and forced to sit through such a strange thing as this. Jon was sure Martin must be weirded out. He knew it wasn’t everyones taste and most didn’t get it and that was okay.

It was okay, if it wasn’t Martin.

Fiddling with his vest, he kept looking to the ground until a familiar set of shoes appeared in his sight. Preparing himself for the worst, he winced a bit as he met Martins eyes, only to be pleasantly surprised at the smile along with the excitement in Martins eyes as he exclaimed: “That was amazing!”

Jon blinked for a second, then he bashfully asked: “You really thought so?”, all the confidence of Jonny d’Ville disappearing.

Martin nodded and said: “Yeah, I loved it. I’ve always been pretty text orientated, so having a full story with great music is something I didn’t know I needed until now, but I definitely did.”

With the praise a smile appeared on Jons face (he was just happy Martin didn’t hate him for lying. It wasn’t at all that Jon desperately wanted to know he had done well and that his heart fluttered with the slightest praise, especially from Martin. I don’t know where you got that idea).

“I’m glad.” was all he managed in return.

Their eyes stayed locked for a long moment after that and they only noticed when Tim called out: “Jonny, we’re done here, you gonna get something to drink with us.”

Jon looked back at his fellow bandmates, then at Martin, before looking back again. He shook his head and yelled back: “No, I think I’m going home. I’m pretty tired. It was fun seeing you.”

“Okay, bye, Jonny.” Ashes said.

The sentiment was echoed and returned. As the other filed out, Jon looked back at Martin and whispered: “I should probably wipe the makeup off or get out of this outfit at least.”

“I don’t know, I think it suits you.” Martin said, before his eyes grew wide and he spluttered something incomprehensible.

Wanting to please him, Jon said: “Thank you, I think I left my makeup wipes at home anyway, so I just have to hope I don’t run into anyone else I know.”

Martin looked up at him and smiled. He waited as Jon gathered his normal clothes and haphazardly threw them into his bag. Before he left, he looked into the mirror self-consciously. His dark hair was braided, grey streaks running through the interwoven hair. Perched on top of his head were the goggles and around his eyes was black lighting. He had black jeans on and a white shirt with a light brown vest over it. He had too many belts wrapped around him, with a golden ornament over his heart and a holster with fake gun by his hip.

Out of context he looked like an idiot, but Martin liked it, so he breathed in and walked out to where Martin was waiting. He threw his coat on over it and together they walked back. Jon was happy he lived near the pub, so the walk was short.

During the walk Martin filled the air with chatter about the performance. Jon wished he could blame the cold instead of the compliments for his read cheeks, but the weather was quite nice.

Once they were inside Jon switched his persona's clothes for his pajamas, this time he did put on longer pajama bottoms immediately. He wiped his face clean and when he looked into the mirror just plain Jonathan Sims looked back and the anxiety began creeping up again.

Slowly and unsure he made his way back to the couch where Martin was sat at. When he entered Martin looked up and Jon swallowed as he tried to smile back, but he probably couldn’t manage more than a grimace. Martin didn’t seem to mind, just offered him a cup of tea.

Timidly Jon sipped his tea and didn’t bother to start a conversation, dreading what the conversation would be about. It seemed Martin picked up on his unease, but he didn’t know what it would be about, so to try and ease the tenseness in Jons shoulders he said: “I have to say this was not what I expected when I think about how you were in uni.”

“No?” Jon asked curiously, not wanting to be the one to fill the silence.

“Not that it’s bad thing.” Martin told him, “Just- well, uhm, no offense, but you can be kind off stuck up from time to time. And that’s fine, but then you don’t really assume this.”

He gestured with his hand to encompass the Mechanisms.

Jon chuckled slightly at that, relaxing bit by bit when Martin didn’t suddenly backpedal and hate him anyway. He shrugged and said: “I can’t fault you for that, really. You are mostly right, I was pretty studious and probably a bit pretentious. The Mechs was my spot to let go and just have fun, you know. I don’t like to advertise it, it isn’t really professional.”

Martin was quiet for a moment, then he said: “Thank you for sharing it.” then he gasped, “Oh my, I hope I didn’t force you or anything! I didn’t mean to.”

“Martin, Martin, I invited you.” Jon said, trying to calm him, but also dreading what might come.

“Yes, but.” Martin began, “But you only did so, because I was being awkward about it, you shouldn’t had to.”

“No, I invited you.” Jon insisted, “I made that choice, it isn’t your fault.” then he bashfully went on: “Besides, I don’t mind you knowing.”

It was silent for a moment as the two met one another's eyes and stared as they started to breath in sync due to close proximity. Then Martin swallowed and looked away as he asked: “You don’t?”

“No.” Jon forced out, “You, you are, uhm.”

Jon didn’t know how to go on, so he rubbed his temples and sighed with frustration. He clenched his eyes shut and allowed the pressure to calm him. Then he met Martins inquisitive eyes and the flush retook his face. He stumbled out: “You’re kind, Martin. I know, I’ve been harsh on you and I’m sorry about that. I know you wouldn’t judge anyone over something like this and you don’t deserve to live in the Archives and I should have noticed and I didn’t. I’m so sorry about this and this is the least I could do to make it up to you and I don’t mind you being here. You’re a good person.”

He finished his rant. Martin blinked in confusion a few times as he processed everything. Then he carefully said: “Thank you, I guess. Uhm, that’s quite a lot, sorry. Let me just- uhm, give me a moment, please.”

“Of course, apologies.” Jon said.

“You didn’t invite me out of pity, did you?” Martin asked, sadness on his face.

Jon hated to see the sad expression on Martins face and he quickly shook his head and answered: “No, no, I didn’t. I did it, because I like you.”

Immediately after he clasped his mouth shut, but the words had already tumbled out and he couldn’t stop them. For a moment they hung heavy in the air. At the same time they spoke: “You like-” “Forget about it-” “-me?” “-I’m sorry.”

Then in union they said: “What?”

Martin repeated his question: “You like me?”

Jon was now resembling more a beetroot than a person. He silently nodded then said: “Yes, I’m sorry that was highly unprofessional of me. I didn’t mean to tell you, sorry. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not making me uncomfortable.” Martin rushed to assure him, “I just didn’t think you even found me an acceptable person.”

Jon winced and curled a bit into himself. What he had already known about himself and hadn’t wanted to admit was out in the open and if he wanted to explain he would have to admit another thing to himself and Martin. Something that would also open up the possibility in the back of his mind, something about the feeling he was being watched.

But for Martin he would admit it, so he did: “I, uhm, I know I am not the best person when it comes to emotions and I hid behind irritation instead of admitting it. Sorry, I know that is no excuse.”

Then the most unexpected thing happened: Martin started laughing. It wasn’t malicious or mean spirited, but Jon didn’t know how to react, so he snapped: “What’s so funny?”

Martin composed himself and said: “Sorry, it’s just, it’s just- I’ve been trying so hard to get your attention and approval only to find out I already had, but you’re just terrible at expressing it and all it took was a performance by a band of immortal space pirates for it to come to light.”

When Martin put it like that Jon had to admit it was pretty funny, he chuckled lightly then the rest of the statement caught up and he stopped laughing. He looked at Martin and asked: “You’ve been trying to get me to notice you?”

His voice was vulnerable, just like Martins when he answered: “Yes, it’s embarrassing, really, but yes.”

Jon took a deep breath, then he said: “Martin, uhm, would you like to accompany me to a date somewhere next week? A proper one?”

Martin agreed with a smile and Jon silently thanked the murderous alter ego he had created to have some fun in uni for helping him open this conversation.

The rest of the night they spend talking and when they came into work together they had established a comfortable companionship between themselves. The other assistants immediately noticed the shift in dynamics between the two, but when Tim asked Martin about it all he replied was: “Nothing happened, I went to a concert that’s all.”

#RR writing #jon sims #jonathan sims #jonathan sims x martin blackwood #jonmartin #martin blackwood #martin x jon #tma #the magnus archives #the magnus pod #tma the mechanisms #the mechanisms #jarchivist was a mechs

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