#there are youtube videos about how to wash your dishes if you really can’t figure it out yourself it’s not the kind of thing you need to ask

[camgoloud]

the unaffordability of one bedroom apartments in my area is something that can be so oppressive to me personally

[symphonicmetal101]

MC Struggles With Obsessive/Compulsive Behaviour

Ok, just to be clear.

I haven't been diagnosed with anything, which is why I refrain from writing "OCD" in the title. I've always known I'm a perfectionist- please be aware that there are some major differences between OCD and perfectionism, (despite what Youtube videos may say)- however I have had instances in which I have taken it too far and paid the price physically, mentally, and emotionally. Please be aware that these are all very real things that not only myself, but other people go through. I haven't had one of them in a long time, but my current circumstances make me feel like I might soon, so bear with me while I write another self-indulgent thing.

Or don't.🤷‍♀️

TW: compulsive/obsessive behaviour, a little self-deprecation as seasoning👌

Lucifer

At first, he's very happy to see that you are very organized and neat

One less thing for him to worry about

However, one day he walked past your room and saw you organizing your desk

He respected that, and continued on

The next day he passed by around the same time and saw you organizing your desk again

Odd, but perhaps one of his brothers had interfered and interrupted you, meaning you hadn't finished yesterday

It had been five days now, surely you weren't still cleaning your desk??

"MC, if my brothers bother you, you should close the door. Perhaps then you would be able to finish cleaning your desk properly. Unless you would like some direction in time management instead?"

Lucifer glanced behind you. To his surprise, your desk looked immaculate. He then saw your blushing face.

"Ah... well that's very kind of you Lucifer, however I'm afraid it's not an issue of time management or your brothers. Well, sometimes Mammon comes in and moves the pens around, so then I have to start over..."

"Start over?"

"Y-yeah." You explain your process to him, how you completely clear off your desk, to the type of cleaner you use, how many sprays, to how you like to stack your paper, to how you always have to have three paperclips to your right, and how the black pen is always in between the blue and the red.

"And when Mammon moves the pens...you start over?"

"Yeah. I do."

Lucifer has sympathy for you, put also struggles because it seems like a waste of time if he were to do it.

But he doesn't do it, and it seems to make you calm, so instead he buys you proper gloves for cleaning and a few more bottles of your cleaner

Mammon

"Come on MC, I wanna show ya something in my room."

Oh no

Nononono

You could feel yourself panicking a bit. Mammon's room was messy

Not messier than Levi's but still

But he looked really excited, so you reluctantly followed him

"TA-DA!!!"

Oh wow. His room was spotless!

"I-uh, noticed ya only seem to be comfortable in yours or Lucifer's room. It-it took a while for me to figure out why, but...whaddya think? Will it work for ya?"

He smiled at you and you could see a hint of nervousness in his eyes.

"It looks great! You even picked up the water bottles that were by your bed!!"

He instantly became more confident, his smile growing wider and his cheeks slightly flushed.

"Of course it looks great! Why wouldn't it?"

You gave him a withering stare

"Uh..yeah. Y'know, if ya had just told me ya didn't like it being so messy I woulda tidied up sooner. J-just make sure ya let me know if it gets too messy again. I want ya to be comfortable in more places than just your room, so my room seemed like a good idea."

His face was incredibly flushed

"Thank you Mammon. It really means a lot.

Levi

You had only been in Levi's room twice

But dear god

You really really really wanted to tidy things up for him

But you also knew what it was like to be very particular and have things "just-so"

Aksjsjshdgjak

"Hey Levi, can I make you deal?"

He took off one of his headphones to listen

"What's up?"

"This might be kinda weird. Can I take pictures of your stuff so I can reorganize and clean your room? That way if you don't like it, I'll put everything back?"

You could see confusion and slight panic that crossed his features.

"I'm sorry, I know it's weird, you don't have to say yes I-"

"Um, what exactly would you be doing?"

"Uhhh.."

He stopped his game to sit and talk with you for a bit.

"O-ok. Just that shelf is off-limits. And I'll stay in here to let you know if something isn't ok with me."

He watched in awe as you carefully rearranged his figurines by rarity as well as colour.

You crawled under his desk with velcro ties and made all the cords under there much more organized

You rearranged the pillows on his couch so that they were symmetrical on both sides, fluffing them and squishing them as you saw fit.

His manga was pretty organized, so you just straightened out the pile.

You organized his games in alphabetical order

The whole time you had been dusting stuff off as well

"There. That's better....what do you think Levi?"

"WOOOAAHH!!! I love it!! It looks really good MC!"

"Thanks for letting me do that."

"No problem...but w-why did you want to do it?"

You shrugged. "It calms me down? No, that's not quite it....I don't really now. As it is, I need to cut myself off otherwise I'll clean until I can't stand. Mind if I join you for a bit?"

He nods at you and hands you a control. As the game boots up he says, "Y-you're welcome to do that again if you need to...but that shelf is still off-limits."

You nod, grateful for his understanding.

Satan

He said he had a surprise date for you

So you followed him

To the Cat Cafe

Now, you love cats

And you love food

But the two of them together don't sit well with you

But Satan looked so eager and happy that you didn't hesitate much to go inside.

Everything was going really well until Satan asked if you wanted something to eat or drink.

You politely declined his offer, but he insisted on getting you something

You reluctantly chose a hot drink.

But as you watched the worker prepare your drink, you were horrified to see them carry a cat out from behind the counter, and then without washing their hands, snap the lid on your cup.

"Satan..I need to step outside for a bit."

He watched you in mild concern as you walked out the door and he waited for your and his order to be complete

You were pacing outside, trying to calm down.

Why did that upset me? I haven't even touched it yet. Besides, normal people don't usually care about stuff like that. And I can clean it??? Or grab another lid?? Fuck! Why am I like this?

Your train of thought was broken as Satan tapped on your shoulder, concern and curiosity apparent in his eyes.

"Are you alright? I noticed the worker didn't wash their hands after handling the cat, so I grabbed a couple lids on my way out. I was going to put it on for you, but I believe it would be best for all parties if you did it on your own."

You almost started crying as he handed you a paper towel with two lids in it.

"Why are there two?"

"Although it never particularly bothered me, I thought you may have wanted some solidarity. I can understand where you're coming from." He smiled sympathetically at you.

From that day forward, he paid extra attention to things while you were around to make sure you wohld feel comfortable. You two also managed to tackle the daunting task of properly organizing Satan's books so that you could spend more time in his otherwise clean room.

Asmo

"Darling, you look wonderful in that outfit!! And it's so hot outside, it's perfect!! I was just about to head out, do you want to join me?"

"That depends. Where are you going?"

"Oh, I'm just gonna do a little shopping. There was a cute top on sale at the mall yesterday, I just want to see if it's still there."

You told him you'd be right back.

When you got to your room you threw on a sweater, and then made sure you had your wallet and your phone.

You walked out of your bedroom, checking again, wallet, phone

As you approached Asmo, you checked again. Wallet, phone

"Are you ready to go?" You nodded and followed him out the door.

He made idle gossip with you until he noticed you were looking a little pale

"Oh my goodness, love are you alright? You should take this sweater off, you'll get much too hot!"

"I can't!" You panicked a bit, and he was caught off guard by your reaction.

"I- I'm sorry. But I use the sleeves to open doors and hold bags and stuff. I don't like touching that stuff. Even groceries are hard for me to touch, so I wash the groceries before I put them away when I get home. I enjoy shopping with you though, because you always know what kind of stuff I like just by looking at it, or feeling it for me. It's the same thing I explained before, where it's difficult for me to model the clothes for you until after they've been washed."

"Aww honey, I'm sorry. Next time I'll see if Mammon or Beel can come and help with your bags, m'kay? But you cannot stay in this sweater in weather like this. What about gloves? Would you be ok wearing gloves? I know a place where there's some really cute ones!! And I'll handle the doors for now, ok?"

You took off your sweater and tied it around your waist.

"Huh. I actually do feel a little better....thanks Asmo."

You two laughed lightly as he held open the door for the next shop.

Beel

You had waited for Beel to get out of one of his extracurriculars to walk home with him

You two were planning to eat together

However when you walked into the kitchen, you were greeted with a sink overflowing with dishes, and a sleeping Belphie on the island.

"Oh, uh, before I eat Beel, I'm going to clean that up. You go ahead though."

Belphie piped up, "Just throw what you can in the dishwasher....I'll do the rest later."

Beel looked concerned. "We were late getting home. Are you sure you're not hungry?"

"Oh...uh" you contemplated lying when your stomach gave you away.

"Just eat. I'll take care of the dishes. It's my turn anyways. I'll get to it soon."

"It's not a big deal Belphie, I'll just do them."

"But you're hungry, aren't you? Just eat first? Or did I do something? Is it something I can fix? I can go if it makes you more comfortable-" Beel looked disappointed. Of course it wasn't his fault.

You shook your head. "It's not you. It's me. I just- I don't know- ugh." You felt close to tears.

How the fuck were you supposed to explain yourself?

Beel pulled you into a hug. "Hey, it's ok. You don't have to tell us what's going on, but if you do it'll make it easier for us to help you."

He let go of you enough for you to step back and wipe tears from your eyes.

"I-I don't know what it is! But whenever I know there's something to be done, especially if I can see it, I have to do it before I do anything for myself. That includes eating, getting a glass of water, even going to the bathroom! And if I find another thing to do half way through he first thing, I'll just continue to postpone the thing I need to do for myself until I'm done or I forget about it..."

Silence settled across the kitchen.

"We'll help you do the dishes so it gets done faster, then you have to eat, ok?"

You smile and nod graciously as the twins helped you feel more comfortable

Belphie

"Come cuddle with meeee."

"Belphie, I need to study, please."

Belphie pouted. He was going to cuddle with you one way or another, even if he had to annoy you into it

Only what he didn't realize what he saw as "mildly annoying" was actually triggering for you

So he started messing with the postion of things on your desk.

"Stop it Belphie, I need to study."

"Yeah? Don't let me stop you, I'm just playing with your pen jar."

"But I asked you. To. Stop."

He huffed and put the pen jar down

But then he started to mess with your three pencils you had laid out, smallest to tallest.

"Why do you need three pencils?"

"Because. Now leave them alone."

He grinned.

"Because is hardly an answer and you know it. What would happen if I just took this one?"

"BELPHIE NO!" Your voice sounded between laughter and tears, butbhe figured it was just your way of begging.

"Belphie, please? I need that!"

He just grinned as he shifted into his demon form and passed the pencil to his tail and lazily flicked it back and forth.

Until he saw your face.

"Whatever. Do what you want, I'm done dealing with you." You walked out of your room, angry tears filling your eyes.

"W-wait! Shit! No, come back! I didn't-ugh." He groaned as he picked himself up to go after you, finding you on the outside steps of HOL.

"Hey, why're you crying? It was just a pencil. I put it back."

You pulled your head out of your hands.

"Yeah, but did you put it back right?"

Belphie looked at you perplexed...right? What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

"Look, I'm sorry for using that tone with you. It's really hard for me to focus unless I have things a certain way. It may seem ridiculous to you, but that's just how I am. I don't know what causes it, I just know that it's a part of me. I'm working on it, but if I say stop, I need you to stop. Please."

"....okay. I'm sorry."

Masterlist

[imagintheworldaway]

Together

Anonymous asked: Hello! Can you do a Harryxfem! Reader where people see how Harry looks at the reader (calorie challenge- rematch (time stamp 27:17)) and the reader is so oblivious to Harry’s feeling for her because he broke up with his long-term ex last fall and she doesn’t want to read deep into it and just keeps telling people that they’re just friends even though everyone can see past the bull crap and keeps shipping them because they’re very similar and meant to be and after months of Harry pinning after her he tries to move on and go on dates (which fails but she doesn’t know that it’s not working out for him ) so she starts seeing someone and magically somehow end up together and become the “it” couple because of how blunt and honest they are. Sorry that was long! Hope you can write it thanks!

A/N Good gosh this is a long one. I hope you enjoy! Requests are open 

Sitting on the sofa next to Cal, snuggled in a mountain of blankets in Harrys apartment whilst the boys filmed a video was always fun. They were filming the 100,000 calorie challenge and it was JJ, Vik , Cal and Harrys turn to be eating the calories. We were sat watching JJ as he revealed he had absolutely failed the challenge to everyones surprise. The boys all started to complain as I giggled at the failure which was JJ right now. I felt a slight nudge on my side and Cal not so discreetly nodding towards Harry, I looked over at him and smiled but he averted his gaze from me and buried his head into the massive bear still complaining at JJ as it was revealed he had messed up the challenge even more by starting before the official time. 

After JJ’s little mess up they decided to make the fried mars bars, and I feel as though even saying it is cause for disaster. The boys were all crowded around the counter, just making a mess really, not much surprise there. I was happy in my own little world scrolling through instagram with the boys chatter in the background when I started to smell something burning and a mass amount of smoke from the boys. “Oh my god you idiots” I said matter of factly before grabbing the pan and holding it out the window, not wanting the apartment to stink of burnt mars bars as the guys tried to switch off the fire alarm. 

Once everything had calmed down I started to clean up as the boys ate the left over chocolates. “ you don’t have to clean up Y/N” Harry said to me as he bought over a plate to the sink. “Its ok I don’t mind, something to do at least” I smiled up at him. “You sure? I feel bad” he said scratching his shoulder and giving me an awkward smile. “I’m sure, go enjoy your food” I giggled pushing the boy away from me slightly. I finished up the washing as the boys chatted over their takeaways trying to figure out how many calories they were up to. I popped the remaining dishes in the dish washer and popped it on for the boys. 

Once they had finished Cal and I bid the boys goodbye and hoped in an Uber, we lived in the same apartment complex so it made sense that we shared rides just about everywhere. “Soooo” cal started tapping his his legs to the beat of the song that the Uber driver had popped on for us. i gave him a questioning glance as I sent my text to Harry, informing him I had popped the dish washer on and for him not to forget about it. “When are you two finally going to get together” Cal said peering over my shoulder and trying to take a peek at my texts with Harry. I just scoffed switching off my phone and turning my head to look at Cal. “Look he got out of a long term relationship not even six months ago, he just needs a friend right now, and that’s all I am, a friend, plus even if he hadn’t just gotten out of a relationship, well I don’t think he’d be interested in me anyway, like I said I’m just a friend” I shrugged to Cal giving him a half smile trying to cover the sadness which was evident on my face. “I don’t know Y/N if you ask me, or well any of the lads he looks at you like your a gift here gracing us all with your presence. like your some type of angel, he likes you, he really does, he’s just scared to ruin what you have” Cal stated as we hoped out the uber and made our ways into the lift. “Well I don’t want to sound rude, but I didn’t ask Cal, I don’t need my hopes being brought up just for it all to be speculation.” I stated matter of factly. “This is me, I’ll see you later yh?” I questioned Cal who just pursed his lips and nodded to me giving a small see ya. 

I really wasn’t trying to be rude but I had had my heartbroken so many times, and I don’t want to start getting my hopes up about Harry if it is just all speculation and some sort of narrative the lads were making up for themselves. I slumped down on my bed and posted a selfie on instagram asking people what they want to know about me. I wasn’t a huge YouTuber but I did have a large instagram following meaning the questions flooded in within an instant. There was the usual that I answered such as my favourite colour, what am I having for dinner, best place I had ever visited and so on. After a few more generic questions someone asked what my favourite picture was. I scrolled through my camera roll and found one of Harry and I at winter wonderland. we were both wearing Santa hats and he was giving me a piggy bag as I held onto a large teddy he had won me moments before. I captioned it ‘Christmas with my Bestfriend, look at how goofy he looks @wroetoshaw’ I giggled as I posted the pic remembering that day. it was a rare day off for the both of us and with Harrys break up still fresh I decided we should go to Winter Wonderland and just have fun. Which we did, it was one of my most treasured memories with him. He had taken his breakup so hard that I felt it was important that he had a friend around who could take the crying and emotions, someone to just cuddle with and forget about the world. And over the past few months I realised that my feelings for Harry had grown, but he was still hurting and there was no way that I was being any boys re-bound. 

I must have fallen asleep because I woke up to blaring light through the blinds of my lounge. I groaned to myself before getting up and trudging to my bedroom to sort myself out. i looked at my phone and I had a few texts from Harry. I smiled as I read them. 

‘Thank you! Almost forgot, you are honestly the best Xx’

‘You alive???? Xx’

‘Good night Xx’

‘Like the insta pic’

I furrowed my eyebrows at the last text. It was sent only minutes after the goodnight text and it didn’t have any of the kisses we usually put on the end of our texts to each other. I also hadn’t got a good morning text from Harry, that was particularly strange because I have always gotten a Good morning and Good night text from him for the past few months with out fail. I just shrugged it off before replying, 

‘Haha no problem! I fell asleep as soon as I got home I’m sorry :( wanna meet up later? Xx’

I smiled at my reply before going to my bedroom and changing to look more presentable. I checked my phone and it was almost lunch meaning Cal was coming over to film a video with me. just as I re adjusted my hair for the a millionth time I heard a knock on the door signalling that cal was here. “Hello stranger” I smiled letting him into my apartment with the array of crisps and snacks he had in his arms. We were filming a British corner shop mukbang whilst answering twitter questions. As Cal settled himself in my studio I helped by opening the array of snacks and cans of drink that he had bought for us. “Hey really weird question but have you heard from Harry today?” I questioned trying not to sound so desperate as to the whereabouts of the boy. “Uh yh messaging me all morning, think he’s got something on tonight. He not told you?” Cal looked up from the array of junk raising his eyebrows at me as I just shook my head in disbelief that he was ignoring me. As we settled in our seats and I turned the camera on I sent Harry a quick text. 

‘Hey have I done something wrong?? :( Xx’ 

The video was going amazing. Cal and I just naturally bounced off of each other and the questions the fans were giving us were quite juicy. “Alright, alright, I’ve got one. Y/N has Harry asked you out yet or is he still being a melt? From @CalFreezy” I giggled at the question and raised my eyebrows at Cal. “These are meant to be from Fans” I retorted to Cal telling him off a little. “Yh Freezy is your biggest fan he’s always nattering on about you and talking about you moving in with them when Harry gets the guts” Cal defended himself causing me to burst out laughing. “Well we all know Harry and I are friends, I love him very much but that’s as deep as it goes” I replied to Cals previous question from Freezy, slight sadness barely evident in my voice. “Is that the only thing that goes deep” Cal stated before bursting out laughing at himself and falling back in his chair ultimately falling off of it causing me to laugh. “Well that’s it for today guys thank you for watching and thanks to this idiot for joining me” I smiled at the camera before shutting it off and helping Cal from the floor. 

“You really need to stop that you know? You can’t force anything to happen” I said matter of factly towards cal as he nibbled on some Pringles. “You see Y/N I’m actually Cal from the future and I’m just stating facts” he gave me a cheesy grin as I tutted at him and rolled my eyes. I was taken out of my trance by a text from my phone. “Alright ditch me for lover boy” Cal called after me. I opened my phone to see it was from Harry but it wasn’t what I was expecting. 

‘Hey Y/N, we shouldn’t hang out anymore it makes Belle uncomfortable.’ 

“Cal what the fuck is this” I shouted to my friend. I heard the thudding of his feet and turned around to show him the message I had just received. He furrowed his eyebrows. “Belle Belle Belle Oh Belle, her really?” Cal scrunched his nose up at me. “Ummm elaborate, who’s Belle?” I pressed for him to release more info to me. “Oh Harry went on a date with her like three weeks ago, looks like it worked out, well for them I guess” Cal shrugged piecing the different parts of the puzzle together for me. “Oh, wow, so he is just gonna drop me like that, like I’m, I’m nothing, like i wasn’t the one there for him when he was mourning over his last breakup. Well that’s a kick in the teeth” I said starting to sniffle, tears threatening to break their way out of my eyes and my mood instantly dropping to nothing. “Hey no don’t cry” Cal said engulfing me in a hug, which I gladly melted into. “If he couldn’t see what he had with you then that boy is more blind than we all thought.” Cal reassured me rubbing my back. “Plus your make up looks too nice to cry it off” Cal said catching a stray tear from my face and making me giggle a little. “Oh Cal why can’t we fall in love?” I questioned sniffing and straightening out my clothes. “Because that would be like fucking my sister and that’s weird” Cal stated making me giggle. 

I don’t think anyone could quite get their heads wrapped around the fact that Harry was with someone new, especially because that someone was not me. For the next month I got fans tweeting me asking if Harry and I had broken up or if he had gone crazy. I also got sorry looks from my friends. Always being placed in the furthest seat away from Harry, always given excuses as to why I couldn’t come to shoots. It sucked majorly. And the worst part about all of this is everyone felt like they had to tread on eggshells around me, as if I wasn’t a fully grown woman who could handle these situations. 

I knocked on Simons apartment door before he opened it replying to someone about something. “Oh Y/N you alright” he said quickly closing the door a little. “Yh Talia said I could pop round and grab my camera that she borrowed.” I said smiling at the lanky man. “Oh yh well um come in, just be careful yh” Simon nodded at me. I furrowed my eyebrows and just nodded at his comment following him through to the living room. And as soon as I saw the tall figure sat next to Harry with an unimpressed look on her face I realised why Simon gave me such a warning. “Heyyyy Y/N Is here” Ethan called standing up giving me a hug making me giggle a little. “Yh Talia knicked my camera again” I stated smiling at the girl who blushed a little realising she still hadn’t returned my device. “Oh so that’s Y/N” a snotty voice said causing everyone to quiet down and all eyes turning in her direction. “Yup, the one and only” I smiled back at her trying to be as nice as possible. “Belle right? Nice to meet you” I smiled back at her trying to make conversation in the silent room. I rocked back and forth on my heels for a while, Belle gave me a good look up and down, narrowing her eyes and pursing her lips as if wanting to comment something. Before she could I saw Harry whisper something to her and she scoffed. “If I have an opinion I’m going to say it. And I have many about her” Belle said loud enough for everyone to hear whilst pointing at me. “Here I found it” Talia smiled at me handing me my camera before noticing the mood of the room. 

“Ok well, I will be off then, lovely to see you all and to meet you Belle” I stated the last part through gritted teeth before spinning around and making my way to the door. “Even worse from the back” I heard Belle try and whisper to I presume Harry. I stopped in my tracks and raised my eyebrows. The audacity of this girl, how dare she disrespect me in front of all my friends. I turned around to meet her eyes with a sickeningly sweet smile on my face. Before I could say anything though Talia butted in. “You know what, you do not talk to my friend like that, I have barely known you a month and I am so sick of you already, please leave before I do or say something I regret” she smiled at Belle joining me by my side and linking arms with me. Belle just looked around at everyone, with everyone just averting their gaze and waiting for something big to happen. All she did was huff, grabbing Harrys hand and storming out of the apartment with him. 

“Jesus Y/N what did you do to make him choose her, she’s like an angry controlling goblin” Ethan huffed as soon as we all heard the door close. “Hey, I got cut off a long time ago, ask him not me” I giggled before thanking Talia and leaving the apartment to go home. 

I was lounging around my apartment, Ethans words spiralling around my head. I decided tonight was for me. I popped on my favourite movie and rummaged through my freezer finding some ben and Jerrys and starting to scoff down the tub. This sofa must be super man or something because I had soon fallen asleep, I was only awoken by loud continuous knocking at my door. I regained my focus and gaged my surrounding before wrapping a blanket around myself and making my way to the door. As soon as I opened it I was pulled into a bone crushing hug. “I’m so fucking sorry, its you its always been you, I don’t know what I was thinking, I just needed someone to fill the void and she was ok for a week but I need you. You are all I need, all I want, please forgive me I love you” as much as I just wanted to melt into his arms I pulled my self back so that we were an arm lengths apart. “You best come in” I sighed. I finished the teas and made my way over to Harry, passing him his favourite mug of mine. I crossed my legs as we sat at opposite ends of the sofa in silence. 

“What about Belle?” I broke the silence, harry whipped his head up to look at me. “Look I’m so sorry she was a mistake and I should never have even given her shot. She’s so nasty and I could never forgive myself. This past month without you has felt like my heart was ripped in two. I’ve been so miserable and then when I saw you today I felt like I had been given a new chance at life. I get it if you hate me but I need you so bad and I cant live without you.” Harry opened his heart to me for the second time that evening. “You’re such a dummy Harry” I said with a sigh placing my mug on the coffee table. Harry looked at me as if he was broken by the words I just said. I just shook my head at him before leaning over and planting a soft kiss on his lips. The moment seemed to last forever. It was like in the movies when time slowed down and fireworks erupted around the couple who after all their trials and tribulations finally found each other. “I can’t help but love you Harry” I whispered only inches from his face as I pulled back for air, a sly grin on my face. Harrys arms snaked around my wait brining me into him for another soft kiss. i leant my head on his chest listening to his heart, thumping like it was going to break out and slap me in the face. “So what now” harry mumbled into my hair. I leant up so my eyes met his. “Well you will ask me on a date to a nice restaurant where we end up getting a little too drunk. Then we walk along the Thames, watching people walk by when at the perfect moment when the city goes silent you ask me to be your girlfriend and then we come back here and spend the night together. But with a little more physical activity than were used to” I grinned at him causing him to chuckle. “So you forgive me?” He said looking at me with pleading eyes. “God yes I forgive you, I could never be mad at you” I smiled at him. How could I? I did truly love him and it was as simple as that. 

After a few months, and the date Harry had promised, we told our friends and announced to our followers that we had finally decided to get together. apparently it was quite obvious as the boys had started taking bets as to when we would tell them about our new relationship. The fans seemed to love it as well, always receiving amazing and supportive comments on all of our posts and videos that we did together. Although we were young I think people saw how care free and happy we made each other. Most importantly how much we loved each other.

[beerecordings]

Okay, here is part three of the latest Marvin's Cage story. Find the whole story so far here Let me know if you enjoy! Thanks for reading. Tws for mentions of possible cannibalism, mentions of past torture, panic attacks, and imprionsment . Light through the side of his box. “Marvin, Marvin,” he mouths, soundless, tears in his eyes. “Brother, brother.” Marvin does not come. “Jameson,” the soft voice is calling. “JJ. We won't hurt you, I promise."

No. This is not right, not right! This has never happened! He clutches at his hair and bites down on the collar of his shirt, tears racing down his face. They need to go away! They're not supposed to be here! They're not supposed to know! Marvin will be so, so, so angry! He can't do it again, can't go back to being alone alone alone alone. His skin so untouched it hurts, so he scratches at it, at his lonely skin, his lonely bones. Marvin will not touch him hold him call him little brother. He can't go back. Makes his brain so numb and then so crazy. Can't can't can't. “Jamie, breathe, Jamie – ” “Give him space, dude! He's scared of us. Jameson... just... he's really just – ” “Marvin did this to him!” He flinches at the loudness of the voice, biting his collar til he feels thread tear. No, no, no. This is Marvin's worst nightmare. His brothers know about him, and they're angry at Marvin. Angry at Marvin who was just protecting all of them, who takes care of him and loves him. This can't be happening. They need to understand. How does he make them understand? How does he even try to explain when his heart is beating so hard it hurts all the way up to his throat and he can't stop crying? This is why you can never fight Anti off, sneer an old pair of hands in his head. You're the most pathetic little creature ever to walk across the earth. Of course Marvin locked us away. Him and Anti are both right. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” he signs desperately. “Brother, brother, M! Please! I want M!” “It's been so fucking long since I took that BSL course. I'm the worst brother.” “Don't start, Jackie, shit. I don't think I ever bothered trying to learn for more than, like, two Youtube videos. Schneep would know. He learned it in about three days and he doesn't forget things.” “Brother – that was brother, I remember! Yeah, JJ, we're your brothers, dude. I mean, if you want us to be. Can you just – please, breathe.” No, they don't understand. These are not JJ's brothers. These are Marvin's brothers. It's a term of endearment more than anything technical: the relationship does not transfer. Marvin always made that very clear and JJ understands. Chase and Schneep and Jackie are not dangerous like he is. Chase and Schneep and Jackie do not have to live in cages, and they get to come find Marvin whenever they want, and they can have things like their own money and lots of friends. They can walk around the city at their leisure. See the sky. Have jobs. Walk around stores and talk to girls and make friends. They pick out their own food and books and toys. They're nice people who have never killed anyone or stabbed each other or made Marvin so upset that he burned their faces on accident and left them alone for days at a time. Schneep is even a doctor who saves lives, and Jackie is a real-life superhero, and Chase has babies who love him. Of course Marvin had to keep them safe from JJ. He's just grateful that Marvin never listened to him when he would beg to get out. Marvin even took care of him when he could have so easily left him to rot like he deserves. “JJ, JJ, please. You can trust us. Didn't you say you remembered me? Please, please, I'm begging you – come here.” Yes, of course he remembers Jackie – remembers the warm voice trying to calm him for hours, and the gloved hand in his own, and the presence watching over him as he drifted close to sleep, the safe and loving presence. How could he forget it? Some days, it is all he thinks about. But it's not something he can have. No, he won't come out. He won't risk making Marvin angry, and he certainly won't let Marvin's brothers get hurt because of him. He will stay here alone like he has to. He is a good boy like Anti told him, like Marvin told him. He is good and he is not hurting anyone ever again. He is staying right here. “Fine, I'll go to him,” comes a vehement voice, and then someone is pushing at the broken wood around his door. Jameson sucks in a wheezing scream and darts behind the curtain over his little bathroom, shoving himself between the wall and the toilet

and squeezing himself into as tight a ball as he can manage around his little stuffed dog, the first present Marvin ever brought him. Jackie can't come in here – neither of them can! Anti will kill them! “Jackie, he's freaking out, stop, stop!” There's a low howl of frustration, but no one comes any closer. His box falls quiet again with nothing but soft murmuring from Marvin's brothers as JJ sobs, biting at deep scars in his palms, the result of being possessed on repeat by a demon with a passionate love of any kind of blade. His hands raise the knife – no hilt. The blade goes down, goes into his palms, goes down, goes into his palms. Goes into her chest. He can hear her screaming. Can hear himself laughing. There's blood in his mouth that isn't his. His birds are already picking at her as she suffocates around the silver of the knife. The bugs are creeping onto her flesh and crawling up his shirt. No, no, no! If Marvin would come – if Marvin would quiet the memories like he always does – But Marvin does not come. Marvin does not come find him. Alone, alone, alone. “JJ, JJ,” they are calling to him, begging at him, but this is not something he can let himself have. He'd rather die right here. No, no, no, no. He is not going anywhere. Ever. His little stuffed dog is licking at his face. He closes his eyes and rubs its fur til the panic fades. His good dog, good boy. He drifts in his head. He's playing with his dog in the yard. Marvin is on the porch reading. The sun is warm. His dog licks his face. He is staying right here... everything is okay... there you go, JJ. There you go. There's a good little brother. You know how much I hate to see you cry. Cut it out, okay? I don't want to hear that anymore. Be good and I'll come back tomorrow. Be good and stay right here. Yeah, he's good. He's good. And when he's good, Marvin comes back again. Marvin will come back. . The soft scrape of cardboard on wood wakes him. He sits in the darkness behind his privacy curtain. Things are quiet again. “I wish he would just...” “I know. But you can't stay here all day.” “Well, neither can he!” “Shhh, keep your voice low. He obviously does, I mean...” The voices devolve back into incomprehensibility, too soft for him to understand. He wipes at his ruddy, weary face and sniffs, curled up against the side of the toilet. He's a little germ freak, as Marvin says, but he doesn't have to worry. He cleans everything every morning so Marvin will not think he's messy. The decorations are always dusted and straightened. He wipes the toilet and his little mirror down, and the sink too, so it's clean when Marvin comes in to shave him on Wednesdays. He isn't allowed to have a razor in here – Anti will try to cut him up again – but Marvin takes care of him anyway. The bathroom smells like their shaving cream and the lemon scent of his cleaners, stacked neatly on the shelves in his back-left corner next to his laundry: Marvin's clothes and some old t-shirts and sweatpants. He isn't allowed to wear anything that isn't Marvin's. Marvin has to be the one to put it through the wash, and if his brothers saw it, they would ask why he was washing things that did not belong to anyone in the house. JJ lets out a tired sigh, a little soothed by the quiet and the reminiscing. Marvin takes care of him. Still, he wants to know what that sound was. When Jackie and Chase's distant voices stay distant, he squeezes his dog for courage and creeps out from behind the curtain, blinking at the light of his sun lamp. The leaves of his plants and the lead in the drawings on the walls gleams quietly in the yellow glow. His place, his things, his presents from Marvin and pictures of Marvin and his shared space with Marvin. Maybe when he comes to see him, they can lie down on the mattress and have a nap, or play some games, or watch pictures on Marvin's magic screen together. Yeah, he feels better. Yeah, there's my tough guy. Stop crying, JJ, I mean it. He gets to his feet and sneaks over to the sill of his box where Marvin sometimes leaves him

things. There's a little pad of paper on his shelf, the sort of book you might use to make grocery lists or notes to pin up on the fridge. He pulls it towards himself, looking right and left for one of Marvin's brothers to leap out at him, but nothing happens. Hi, JJ,reads the first page, in messy, crooked handwriting. My name's Chase (I'm the one in the grey shirt) and Jackie is the one in the red hoodie. He doesn't know what a hoodie is. He glances down the way Marvin usually comes from and can still hear them talking. I'm sorry if we scared you. We're still figuring out what's going on. You don't have to get close to us if you don't want to (but I promise we won't hurt you if you do). I thought it would be easier for you to have a pen and some paper. Is there anything you need? Or anything we can do to show you we are on your side? Do you remember us? I also left some food by your door. It's perfectly safe, I promise. I will eat some with you if you want. Please don't be scared. We aren't with Marvin right now, or Anti. We are not going to let anyone hurt you. If there is anything we can do to help please tell us. I hope you do remember us a little bit. If you don't, though, we want to say hi! Maybe you can write me back? The paper is all for you. - Chase There are some smiley faces and even a little drawing of the plate of food on the paper. JJ glances over at his door. A dish with rice and meat is tucked on the plate alongside fat slices of oranges, a neat line of bright green cucumbers with ranch drizzled on, and a big sweet-looking roll with pecans. His mouth waters. He listens for Marvin's brothers one more time, and when they're still far away, he steps over to pick up the plate and brings it back to his mattress, sitting down and eating with relish. It's hot and fresh and home-made, better than he remembers food tasting. Most of the stuff he gets is take-out from a restaurant or leftovers. Not that he minds! It's just a lot of tasty food. He's eating faster than he means to, scooping the rice up with his plastic silverware and tearing the soft bread of the roll between his teeth. Meat between his teeth – hot flesh, red blood – Anti's smile is crimson and beaming, his own eyes are wild with delight – cannibal – No, no. He hugs himself for a few minutes and goes through the breathing exercises Marvin taught him. He's okay. He does not eat all the beef, but he eats everything else, scooping up the leftover ranch with his spoon and licking his fingers clean of the orange juice and sticky frosting from the roll. His stomach hurts with how full he is. It's a good feeling. “Jameson?” He jerks upright, pupils blown. A figure leaps back from his window. “Sorry! I just – I was just checking if you wrote me back or – sorry, I'll give you some space...” He backs away again. Jameson grabs at his chest, shuddering. Sudden voices in his box only ever mean Anti until today. And Anti – Anti hurts him. Even when they're playing. He doesn't think Anti ever learned how not to hurt someone. He thinks that's why he plays like that – testing his limits. Interested in human suffering as a primary characteristic. He plays with the edge of Chase's note, trying to think. He hasn't talked to anyone but Anti and Marvin in so long. What would Anti say? Pet, look, he's almost as pretty a present as you were. Oooh, but already a scar in his head. Who wants a scar on him I did not put there? Hm. Still pretty though. He looks like my master. Tell him to come over here and snuggle with us, Jameson. I will wrap my hands around his throat and see if he chokes the same way Jack does. Jameson chews on the end of his pencil, sighing. They need to stay away. What would Marvin say? Who, Chase? He's my baby brother. I guess I was always pretty attached to him. I was all jealous when Jack added Schneep, and I do snap at Jackie a little when he ticks me off. Chase, though, he's my – he's my little brother, you know? He's a special person. Well, anyway, it was him you stabbed the night I had to lock you up. Within about five

minutes of finding you, you stabbed one of us. I started to imagine what would happen if we just let you roam free and... you get it, right? Why I had to? Yes. Of course he does. This is what he needs to express. He clears his throat and sets his pencil shakily to paper. Dear Chase, Thank you for my dinner. It was very tasty. You are a good cook. I do remember a little of that night you all found me, but not much. I was rather unwell. I am dearly sorry for stabbing you and I hope your shoulder has healed well. I should not like to stab you again, but I do not always have a choice. Unfortunately, despite Marvin's best efforts to find a way to help, I still fall victim to possession against my will. Please leave me alone so I do not stab you or your brothers. If you will get Marvin for me he will know how to fix the box. I am not bothered by your presence but the thought of what might happen to you is very alarming. It would be in the best interest of you and your family to kindly exit this place and leave me to my own devices. There is no need to be concerned about anyone hurting me, though I appreciate your worry on my behalf. Thank you for your time and understanding, and, again, for the food. Sincerely, Jameson Jackson There. That's okay, isn't it? Maybe? P.S. I would like to see Marvin very much. Is he all right? Thank you. Okay, there. Then he will not have to wonder. Hopefully everything's okay and Chase can go bring Marvin for him. Then things will go back to normal. Things will go back to... To normal. Normal is good. Normal is... His box is quiet. The light gleams on the leaves and the lead. There are scratchmarks in the wood where he has tried to claw his way out during breakdowns. He closes his eyes. Things will go back to normal. He can never leave. He lets himself drift off in his mind again, walking in circles around his box with his eyes closed. He's on a beach with his dog and a big family... little kids come running up to him and he picks them up and plays with them in the ocean, yanking them back from the waves or ducking them under the water while they shriek in delight. The sun is so warm and the sand is hot between his toes. Marvin is suntanning on the beach while Chase and Jackie play in the sand beside him, and everyone is laughing. His box is dead quiet. Not even the wind to keep him company. Alone, alone, alone. . “I'll kill him, I'll kill him.” “Jackie. Breathing.” “I'll – oh, he – I'll tear him to pieces, look at this, he – I'll kill him, I'll destroy him, how could he...?” “Jackie. Jackie.” Chase is so tired he doesn't even get to his feet to try and calm Jackie down. He's slumped across the couch of the living room with Queenie on his stomach, kneading her claws into his t-shirt and purring. Her belly's all swollen with kittens, but instead of becoming more reclusive like a normal cat mother, she has decided she wants to be on top of someone twenty-four hours a day. Chase scratches her ears and sighs. “How could he do this?” groans Jackie, for perhaps the hundredth time today. Chase still doesn't have an answer. Jackie is clutching JJ's note in his hands tightly enough that he's definitely torn a hole or two in it. “He made him think he has to be – he has to be in this box. He – he won't come out to me. He won't come out to me.” Chase reaches for Jackie's jacket, catching his sleeve, and tugs his brother down onto the couch beside him. “Jackie. This note – it could be good news.” Jackie looks at him like he's finally lost it. “Hear me out! I know it's... not great that he seems to think he really does have to stay in there. But Jackie, look, he's not scared of Marvin! What if we jumped to conclusions about how this went down?” “He locked my little brother in a box,” says Jackie flatly. “But what if JJ asked him to do that?” Jackie blinks and looks down at the smudged note. “He... does seem to think he's dangerous.” “And, well, he is, isn't he?” “Don't say that.” “Jackie, it's just facts. Er, not JJ, I mean. Anti is the dangerous one, but he uses the

little man like a weapon. That's not his fault, but it's the truth. He did stab me that night.” “Anti stabbed you!” “Yes. But he used JJ's hands. Jackie, is it so wild to think that maybe JJ was just so scared by the things Anti has made him do that he actually asked Marvin to help him protect us from him?” Jackie's eyes water. He shakes his head. Chase sighs and touches his brother's shoulder. “It still wasn't right of Marvin to do what he did. He definitely should have talked to all of us about it and not left us thinking something terrible had happened to him. But if JJ really came to you and begged you to keep him away from us – well, maybe, as a temporary solution, you might take him somewhere safe and secluded, and take care of him yourself, right? Maybe not a little locked box, but... somewhere. It's not – Jackie, it's not unthinkable.” Jackie just shakes his head, staring down at that note. “What's wrong?” asks Chase softly. “Wanted to make him feel safe,” croaks Jackie. “I should have – if I had made him feel safe, he wouldn't have thought he needed to be locked away. And Marvin – yeah, should have told me. Even if JJ did beg. My baby brother.” After a long day, the tears are finally coming dripping down Jackie's face. “I know, man,” whispers Chase. Jackie falls against his shoulder. Chase wraps his arm around him. Queenie nudges her way into their laps and sits contentedly down, purring like a little motorboat. “Maybe JJ and Marvin really were just working together to protect us,” mumbles Jackie. “Maybe he did take good care of him. If he had told us, maybe it is... thinkable.” “I shouldn't have told Marvin we weren't brothers anymore.” Chase rubs at his face. “I was too quick to think it was the worst scenario.” “No, it's not your fault,” replies Jackie softly. “It's his for not telling us, so it really did look like the worst scenario – and my fault, for exploding on him instead of listening. I should have been calmer.” “I honestly think you were surprisingly restrained for the situation,” says Chase, a little amused. “If it were true that he just locked JJ up against you will, you oughta have kicked his ass.” Jackie snorts, rubbing at his face. “Yeah. I guess. I don't know, though. There's just... there's something really off about that box. The kids' toys and the – I don't know. I get a really bad feeling. It's hard to describe.” Chase hums and nods. “Well, what we need to do is talk to JJ more, right?” Jackie perks up, glancing over at him. “Right. Figure all this out.” Chase smiles at him. The weight on his chest is so much lighter than it was a few hours ago. This – this makes so much more sense than what they thought before. Of course it was unimaginable that Marvin would lock JJ up like a prisoner against his will and abandon him in there, unloved. What he did was still wrong, but this alternative is so much lighter than that one. Maybe they can still fix this. Marvin could come back with Schneep, and once they were all on the same page Marvin would apologize for leaving them out of the loop. Together, they'll all be able to find a better way to keep JJ safe from Anti. Then they can all be together like they're supposed to be. Yeah. He can see it now. Marvin and Schneep will come back home, and JJ will come out of the box, and everything will be wonderful. Just a few hours ago, that seemed so impossible. “You're crying again,” says Jackie, touching his face. “Chase?” “No, it's okay,” chuckles Chase, wiping at his face. Happy tears. He's so relieved it hurts in his chest. For a few hours there, he really thought Marvin might have done something that cruel. But not his brother. Not his Marvin. No wonder it didn't make sense. It wasn't true. He should have known Schneep was right. Schneep is always right. Chase chuckles, shaking his head. “Just a rollercoaster day, that's all.” “No fucking kidding. I'm going to go write back to JJ. Do you want to come with?” “No, no, I think I'll get started on dinner.” Chase has already moved on to their reunion meal in his head. He'll cook

something Marvin loves and make JJ so much good food they can't even eat it all. Bread, ice cream, pasta, casserole... there's so many options. Maybe he'll just make everything. His heart is light again. It's going to be okay. “Okay, then,” says Jackie, heading back towards the mirror. “I'll be in there with him if you need me.” “Got it,” Chase replies, getting up to head to the kitchen. “Oh, um – Chase?” “Yeah?” He turns back towards his brother. Jackie smiles at him in the evening light. “I'm really glad you're here.” Chase smiles back. “Me too,” he says.

Things are going to be different. But surely, surely - they have to turn out okay. Just this once.

. Dear JJ, I don't really know how to right to you. This is Jackie. I'm glad you remember me a little. I'm your older brother. You don't want to come out of the box? When did that start? Was it your idea to be locked up like that? I guess I can see how you would think you could be dangerous. Trust me, I've encounterred Anti enough times to get it but if you give me a chance I promise I will keep you safe. JJ there has to be a better way then you being locked up like that! I don't even care if you and Marvin thought it was a good idea it's terrible. You do not have to be a prisoner you are my brother. I really want you to come stay with me. What can I do to get you out of there? I will do anything to make you feel safe, JJ. I promise I will keep you safe. Marvin is okay. He's just staying at another house right now. He knows I am talking to you. I'm worried about how he might have treated you, can we talk some more before you talk to him? Tell me about how he treats you. I want you to be able to make your own choice. Don't worry about him, okay? Who decided you should be in that box? I want you to be here with me. I really want you to be here with me and I promise I will keep you safe. Maybe we can talk face-to-face? Even though I'm bad at sign languge. I have wanted to see you for a really long time. I love you. I don't care if you hid from me or if Anti has used you, that doesn't matter now, none of us ever blamed you for Chase's shoulder. I've been looking for you, JJ. I've been looking for you this whole time. I thought about you every day. I would have looked forever if I had to. Every day of my life. If you think you have to stay in that box, please tell me why. I need to understand. I won't lose you again. You won't lose me too. I'm your big brother and I really want you to be here. I promise I will keep you safe. JB . Dear Jackie, Please, just go. You weren't supposed to know. I will be in trouble and I will hurt you. It is my fault. I'm not like you. I can't fight Anti. I'm not what you think I am. I'm sorry. I'm sorry you looked. He said maybe he would tell you I was dead, but he knew you would not stop looking unless there was a body, so he couldn't even though he wanted to. He loves you. He didn't want you to be in pain. But he didn't know how to stop it either. He cried over it so much. Maybe now that you know, you won't have to worry about me anymore, and you and Marvin can be happy again. I'm happy here. Marvin has taken such good care of me. He treats me very well. Please go home to your brothers and don't think about me. I'm sorry I made you all so sad for so long. Sincerely, JJ There are patches of wetness on the pages. . JJ, who decided you should be in that box? Tell me. . This time, there is no answer. Big blue eyes look up at Jackie from the corner of the cage, and all he wants is to go in there with him. But when he moves forward, JJ flinches and flees back to the bathroom, and all Jackie can do is sink down beside the cage, hold his head in his hands, and try not to think about the words he wanted to tell you I was dead. . Chase: Schneep you ok Schneep: Yeah. We're at Stacy's Chase: Did you tell her Schneep: Kind of. Still not sure really what happened Chase: Us either dude. Marvin say anything more? It sounds like maybe he and JJ both decided he should be locked up or whatever Schneep: He is all freaked out still. I gave him something to calm him down and he fell asleep. I am worried though. He insists the Jameson must be kept in the box. I think Anti is pulling strings Chase: I don't have any idea what's happening at this point Schneep: How is he? Chase: Very shy. Scared of us. He also thinks he has to stay in the box Schneep: Healthy? Chase: He kind of hides. Won't let us in to see him Schneep: I come by tomorrow and check on him Chase: Ok, sounds good. Tell me if anything changes? Schneep: Yes I will Chase: And say hi to the kids for me. Maybe not a good idea for me to have them this weekend after all Schneep: No worries. We will figure everything

out, my friend. Take care of JJ for me Chase: You take care of Marvin. I think it's going to turn out alright. Schneep: Yes, it will. See you tomorrow, love you Chase: Love you . There's blood in his mouth. JJ circles his cage, using a rag to clean the walls and wipe down the boxes and sink. When it's clean, he sits down again, reaching for his violin. There's blood in his mouth. He gets up again and wets the rag. Circles the cage and wipes down the walls and boxes and sink. He sits down and rubs at his face, exhausted. There's blood in his mouth. No. The box is clean. He's not going to clean it again. There's blood in his throat. He covers his face in his hands. Stop imagining it, JJ. Distract yourself. His dog licking at his face, warm sand between his toes, Marvin is holding him – Blood in his throat. In his teeth. He picks flesh out from between his molars. Copper tang against his tongue. He feels the weight of the blood settle in his stomach. He bites into flesh. Jameson. I am not going to listen to this story again. That's fucked. Anti isn't here. Stop crying, okay? The corpse is going cold beneath his fingers. Anti is laughing. The blade swirls around in his hands. He is torn between hoping Anti will stop possessing him so he can have even a minute alone in his own head and praying that Anti never leaves again, because when he does, that is when JJ becomes the victim of his curiosity. There's blood in his mouth. JJ gets up and wets the rag. Circles the cage and wipes down the walls and boxes and sink. “Jameson,” murmurs Jackie. “Are you okay?” He's standing just outside the box, looking at him. JJ avoids his gaze, scrubbing the clean right wall with vigor. Jackie doesn't seem to want to hurt him. He supposes that makes sense. It's not Jackie JJ should worry about – it's what Anti might do to Jackie that's concerning. He wishes Marvin's big brother would leave. “Can you show me your stuffed animals?” asks Jackie. “Or your puppets? Why do you have all those?” JJ pauses, chewing on his nails as he glance at his animals, arranged neatly on his mattress. The finger puppets are in their box by the barred window. They're just for fun. For distraction. He knows each of them intimately. All the puppets have names and families and jobs and aspirations. All the animals have their own place in the world in his head. It's just a game. It's just a game he plays for hours at a time. He tells the same stories on repeat. The important part is that he knows they're not real people right now. Marvin was so relieved. There's blood in his mouth. He circles his cage. Cleans the walls and boxes and sink. It's already clean. He knows it's already clean. “Do you play the violin?” JJ pauses again, eyes flickering over to Jackie. Yes, he does. For hours a day. “Would you show me?” asks Jackie gently. JJ hovers. He's not sure he should. But he never gets to show anyone except Marvin and the toys. It would be nice. He never got to show anyone Marvin's birthday song. It's not going to hurt Jackie. It's just his music. He picks the violin tentatively up. Sets it back down again. Jackie is looking at him uncertainly from the window, smiling a faint, confused smile. Fuck's sake, he's – he's weird, isn't he? Not Jackie – JJ. He turns away from Marvin's brother, biting at his nails again. It's been so long since he interacted with anyone other than Marvin and Anti. What must he look like to Jackie? He's treating him like he's so fragile. Maybe he is. But this is how he lives. This is how he has to live. He used to fight. Does Jackie know that? Does Jackie know that there were days that he would come out of possession kicking and striking at Anti, spitting at him and writhing before Anti could stuff him back into whatever hiding place he had found to contain him? Does Jackie know that JJ used to curse at Marvin and demand to be let go? That he eventually crumpled beneath the isolation and the monotony and just collapsed in on himself, sitting mindless for days at a time no matter how much Marvin begged at him to

get up? Does Jackie know that he hates this? There are tears dripping onto the violin set beneath his chin. He can't think like this. This is where he has to stay. He can't go. He can't leave. There is blood in his mouth. This is what he has to do. He can't tell on Marvin, can't tell Jackie that Marvin dragged him into this box and locked him up while he cried. This is what he deserves because he's done so many bad things and he will do so many more if he is released. Oh, there is blood in his mouth. He can't get out. He has to be a good boy – he has to stay – he has to – “Major freak-out,” he signs to himself. This is what Marvin calls a major freak-out. Yeah. Okay. “Have to stay calm, JJ, you can't come out of your cage. “Come hold me, Marvin, please! “If you calm down I'll come in there. Okay? “Please can I come out just for a few minutes? Oh, God, I want to see a priest. Are you going to keep me here my whole life? I'll die here! I'm going to die here? I can't take it anymore! I can't take it! Oh, God, I want to see the sky, I want to hear birds, oh, God, our father, who art in Heaven – “JJ, be good. Penguin, stop that. You know you can't come out. So be calm. I'm working on finding a solution. “But you never do, you never do!” “JJ.” And now the voice does not sound like Marvin's. JJ isn't sure why. He keeps signing to himself, circling his cage, chewing on his collar. He talks to Marvin. Marvin isn't there, but he knows what he will say. Yes, Marvin is here. They're talking and hugging each other, yes, Marvin is making it better. Marvin isn't here. “Jameson, hey. Jamie, can you look at me? Jamie, can I come in there with you?” Yes, yes, he wants that! He hates to be alone for freak-outs. They last hours and sometimes he slams his head against the wall so hard the light hurts his eyes for days. Sometimes he scratches at the wood til his nails split. Sometimes he clings to Anti and begs him to take him away from this place, because even the torture and the killing would be better than sitting in this same – fucking – spot – for the rest of his miserable existence. He hates to be alone. Alone, alone, alone. “Please, please,” he begs. “Please, please.” “Okay, I'm coming, Jamie, I'm coming.” Marvin doesn't call him Jamie, but it doesn't matter, because a moment later, there are arms around him. There's no torture quite like the touch-starvation, and JJ is someone who knows torture. When Marvin started touching him and hugging him and sitting with him, it changed everything. And the most wonderful part about it is how those months of his skin crawling and his brain going numb and foggy with a bizarre and visceral sort of insanity as he rubbed at his own skin and rocked and day-dreamed about being touched til he could hallucinate it – they all just fade into the background when someone puts their arms around him. He latches on like a cat in a tree. Octopuses himself around their body. And in return – joy of joy, he is being squeezed back, squished against their body and rocked. He is scooped all the way off his feet, making him giggle. He buries his head in their shoulder and shakes, pressed so tightly together it's a little hard to breathe. “My little brother, my little brother,” someone is singing. “My JJ. Here you are. I have you back again, I have you.” He's grabbed by the waist and spun in a circle before he's drawn back to their chest. He laughs weakly and hears them laughing back. “Here you are. Chase was right. This is all that matters. You are everything that matters.” Kisses along the side of his head. Hands on his back and cupping his head. He's rocked back and forth, back and forth. Steady and strong. Gloved hands. A red hood. The smell of rain and sweat and coconut on the jacket. And that feeling – that feeling of safety... Yeah. He remembers. How could he forget? When this was what he dreamed about for so long? Jackie is holding him. His awareness comes back to him in pieces as he comes down from the second or third panic attack of the day. Jackie has crashed down onto the

mattress with him. He's being held like a little kid, but Jackie doesn't seem bothered by his weight or his neediness. Jackie just clings to him. Clings to him as tight as he's clinging to Jackie. JJ cries quietly as he comes back to himself. Jackie wipes at his face and hums to him, nonsense music in the air. “My JJ, my JJ.” He doesn't seem bothered by the crying either. “I missed you, JJ.” His voice breaks. Jackie coughs and kisses the side of his head one more time, his voice fading away. “Have to go,” signs JJ, crying into his chest. “Have to go, before he hurts you!” “I'm so sorry, James, I never really got to practice with the sign language, I should have worked harder...” “Go, go!” He points to the door. “Go away!” Jackie shakes his head at him. JJ should push him away, but he just – he just can't. Marvin will kill him for this. Anti will kill Jackie for this! “Nothing's going to hurt you anymore,” whispers Jackie. “Never, you're never leaving my sight again. I'm never going to let anything happen to you ever again.” And he wants it to be true so badly it hurts. He just clings to Jackie, shaking. “Oh! He let you get in there with him!” A new voice in the expanse of the mirrors. JJ feels Jackie nod. “Do you guys... do you want some space?” “Yeah, please,” whispers Jackie. “Maybe he'll let you come in too in a minute, but if we could just... just get a minute...” “Just text me if you need anything.” And it's just him and Jackie in the quiet of his box again. “Nothing matters but this,” sings Jackie, brushing at his hair. “My baby brother. I love you.” Love, love, love. He closes his eyes and holds to Jackie, and just for one moment of weakness, he lets himself have this.

[confusedlamp]

Mental Health Strategies

I have dealt with various mental health BS (anxiety, depression, ADHD), and while I haven't gotten it all figured out, I have been dealing with it for well over a decade now. I figured I would make a list of coping mechanisms that have helped me and are worth trying out if you haven't already. None of these things are “magic” (just try this and your brain will be all fixed!),  and obviously not applicable in all situations. I mostly learned these via therapy or from other people struggling with mental illness. This also may or may not be to help me have a list of things written down for when I forget. 

Putting this below a keep reading thing because this got long FAST: 

For depression funks:

-Find a small task you can complete. Wash a dish, throw clothes in the hamper, take out the trash, etc. Something small.

-Take a shower. And try changing clothes. Even if it's in to some pajamas. If you aren't up to showering, try washing your face and maybe wiping down with a wipe. But a change of clothes will still feel better.

-Eat something. Doesn't have to be "healthy." Some food, no matter what it is, is better than no food.

-Can you get outside? Doesn't have to be to excercise. Just sitting on the front steps for a few minutes in the sun.

-Doing something to take care of yourself. Can you brush your teeth? Have a glass of water? Brush your hair? Just pick one thing and so it.

-Plan something. See if you can get a friend to meet you to hang out (or zoom) or maybe for dinner. For yourself, maybe find a movie to go see (post pandemic). Preferably find something that has a set time.

For panics:

- Square breathing. Breathe in for 5, hold for 5, breath out for 5, hold for 5. Repeat.

-There are a ton of meditations on youtube. Search "5 minute meditation" and you'll find a ton of videos.

-After the initial panic is over try calling a friend. If you can't for some reason (sometimes it's 3 am or your friend isn't available), try finding some cat videos on youtube. I highly recommend Cole and Marmalade. Something light that will get your brain on something else.

For Executive Dysfunction:

-Remove steps to putting things away. For awhile in school, I would have a mess of papers that weren't organized or put away because I was trying to use a binder. As silly as it sounds, having to neatly align paper holes or got find a place to punch those holes, would prevent me from putting things away. So I switched to folders. Suddenly I stopped losing things and my papers were organized.

-Bullet journaling. Or rather, I just have a little notebook where I put all my to do lists, grocery lists, project planning, brainstorming, etc. I don't properly Bullet Journal (TM) but I keep all my lists in one spot and it helps.

-To do lists in general. Writing out steps to get something done. Cross things out when you finish them. You get a better sense of accomplishment.

-When executive dysfunction is preventing you from getting out of bed, break it down. Step one, sit up. Step 2, swing legs over side. Step 3 stand up.

-Same with any task. If it seems too overwhelming or you just can't bring yourself to do it, it might be because you are looking at all the steps and feeling it's too much. So just think about the first one.

-Alarms and reminders. I put everything on a calendar in my phone. Google Calendar allows you to set a reminder for events days, weeks, hours, and minutes ahead. You can also set alarms for things like "I know I need to leave at 3 for the appointment, so I am going to set an alarm for 2:45 to start getting ready." Do not rely on yourself to look at the clock. YOU WILL NOT LOOK AT THE CLOCK IN TIME.

-Set the dang alarm clock across the room. That way, you gotta get out of bed to turn it off. Once out of bed, go take any meds, or if you don’t have meds, go do a small morning task. Usually doing this small task is enough to get me awake enough to not get back into bed. If I do, well, at least I have taken my meds. 

Sensory Issues:

- Fitted sweat pants and hiking pants. I can’t stand tight clothing, but I want to look presentable. Sweatpants that taper can still look decent. Travel pants or hiking pants (you can find these at places like REI), basically look like slacks but are made out of stretchy material. They also usually are made out of quick dry material which is nice. 

-Fidget and sensory toys. I really like hedgehog rings which have these little spikes on them I can run my thumb over. Also the tangle. I have a tangle that has a rubber coating that has little bumps on it. What you end up liking might differ, but those are two of my favorite. Also, if anyone gives you shit about these, you can explain “it’s sorta like a stress ball, but instead you [whatever you do with this fidget toy].” 

-Ear plugs. I wear these a lot because I have particular issues with sounds, especially certain ones. I prefer either silicone gummy ones or I like these that are “slim” because they don’t make my ears hurt. You can also get musician ear plugs that are made for musicians to protect their hearing, but still be able to hear tones and what is going on, for when sound is simply too load (also good for concerts). 

For General ADHD things: 

-Work somewhere different. This is a bit limited due to the pandemic currently, but just working at the kitchen table instead of your bedroom can help. In college, I used to go to the library to work. Just the idea that I was going to someplace specific to do a specific task, helped me actually get started. 

-Promise yourself that you will work for 10 minutes. Set an alarm if needed. Usually just starting will make the task seem less intimidating. If 10 minutes is too much, do 5. 

-Cardio. Get your self moving. This is good for a lot of things, but I highly recommend it for before you have to sit down to work on a task, like school work. I personally run, but if that’s not your thing dance, a class, walking, biking, etc. Just whatever you like. 

-Time dependent things are good to get yourself going. Again, this is limited by the pandemic, but for normal times, can you meet a friend for breakfast? Can you schedule your appointment so you have to get to it before you start work? When I was in college, I used to go to morning gym classes before my first class of the day. This got me up and if I was 5 minutes late, it was better to do that for a gym class than a physics class. Bonus because it was exercise and I could focus better on the class. 

-In classes, try to find a notes buddy or study group. That way, if you zoned out a moment, you can ask them for the notes from that section and vice versa. Also, meeting up with them is a great way to have a set time to study. 

For General Anxiety/ Depression: 

-This is going to sound cheesy as fuck, but: Make a list for what you are good at. Things you like about yourself. Things you have accomplished. They don’t have to be super deep, but can be. Do you like your nose? Can you paint your nails well? Are you good at understanding your cat? Are you good at writing? Drawing? Did you overcome a bad test and still manage to pass a class?  If you have a friend or significant other that you are comfortable with, ask them to help maybe. Keep this list for when you feel like shit. 

-Yoga. I’m sorry to put this on here because it seems like the most neurotypical advice, but. I honestly love this shit. If you haven’t given it a shot, there’s a reason why people like it. You don’t have to belong to a gym to try it. I highly recommend Yoga with Adrienne. She has some great beginner videos. 

-Take breaks from social media and news as needed. Seriously. You are a single person and can’t fix everything. Do what you can (share the information, make a donation, join in mutual aid efforts, etc.) but doom scrolling and obsessing won’t help anyone. If you won’t do it for yourself, consider that burning yourself out will make you unable to help later on. 

-Create things. They don’t have to be amazing. Crocheting, knitting, drawing, writing, etc. Having something that you can look at and be like “I made that” is really satisfying. Youtube has some great tutorials for pretty much anything. For drawing, I really like Proko. He has some great videos on drawing faces. But again: IT DOESN’T NEED TO BE GOOD. 

General Resources/ Advice:

-If you are currently in college, most campuses will have groups for counseling and even limited one on one sessions. Usually, these counseling groups are free and the one on one sessions can help you find a counselor nearby. 

-How to ADHD. Seriously I love this youtube channel. She goes over how ADHD affects the brain and has seriously helped me understand it better. 

-The Trevor Project. For LGBTQ teens and youth. They have a hotline and many other resources.  

-If what is stopping you from getting therapy is the idea that you are being dramatic/ are not that bad/ others have it worse: Go get therapy. What are we going to do, find the one person who has it the worst off than anyone and only they are allowed to feel bad and get help? Screw that. Get some help. 

-Remember that there are good things in your future. Where ever you are in life, you have something positive in your future, even if you don’t know it yet. One day, there will be a moment when you look back on the dark times and be so glad you didn’t give up. 

-Obligatory: https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/  (1-800-273-8255). This is national suicide prevention lifeline, for the US. They can help. 

-https://www.crisistextline.org/ For when you don’t like phone calls, try texting instead. Has US, Canada, UK, and Ireland numbers. 

[growup-gloup]

In the past few days I’ve developed a crush on this extremely smart guy. And I know that smart men only really date smart women. How can I become an intellectual? And Ik it’s kinda shallow wanting to do this for a guy but he’s what inspired me!

There are a lot more benefits to becoming an intellectual than just to impress a guy, but yes, smarter women do generally get a better pool of dating partners to choose from, so it isn’t exactly shallow if it’s effective.

Read. Some of the smartest and most successful people in the world make it a habit to read for a certain amount of time every day. Start doing that. You can definitely read fiction, which is always fun. But you should also incorporate more non-fiction into your reading list as well. Try biographies/memoirs, self-help, or finance books. You can even try books and essays related to whatever you are interested in. Say, you like video games, then read up on the history of video games, maybe the most notable figures and companies in the gaming industry. It would help to know the difference between an XBox and a Play Station. Alternatively, if you’re into makeup, learn about the different ingredients and techniques. What is the difference between retinoid and retinol? Try learning more about anything that interests you.

Absorb other intel. While you should definitely visually read something to improve your reading comprehension, I understand that for some people it is hard due to visual impairments and busy schedules. Listen to podcasts or audio books while you are on your way to work or school. Watch TED Talks. YouTube is your best friend. You can learn a lot about any topic in some of the ten minute videos available. Keep up to date with the current events. See if you can find free online courses regarding the topics you are interested in. 

Learn how to do new things. Okay, so you have consumed all of this information and can spit out trivia and fun facts. Great, but what’s the point of all of this? You need to expand your skillset. Maybe one of these days I’ll make a list of skills everyone should know, but for now, you should be able to know enough about cooking to be able to feed yourself, plus a couple of nice dishes that you can wow your guests with. You should be able to change your tire and know enough basics about your car (if you have one) that you aren’t completely lost at the mechanic’s. Same with any stuff you own, like tech. Most of all, if you don’t know something, you should be able to do a quick and effective google search to find out right away.

Expand your vocabulary. Part of absorbing new information is that you also learn new terms and you are exposed to the way intellectual people talk. I am not saying that if you swear, you aren’t smart, but if you can find other words to express what you are feeling, that makes you sound a lot more smarter than an F-Bomb. An extension to this can be learning another language. Not only can it help you get jobs, but it opens you to a whole new way of life and culture and vocabulary. Plus you sound a lot smarter and it is impressive to those who are monolingual. People who speak your target language will also be excited because they found someone to speak with. Even if you aren’t fluent, most of them are patient enough.

Talk to people. All of this intellect you gathered is going to be washed away if you don’t exercise it. If there are people in your circle that you admire because of their intellect or success, talk to them and learn from them. Like attracts like when it comes to people. If you are surrounded by smart people, some of that intellect will rub off on you. If you are surrounded by people who are always looking for the worst in any situation and are ready to come up with ten reasons for why they CAN’T do something when you encourage them, that negativity will rub off on you as well. 

💋

[rvmmm21]

[ V V S her diamonds ] – ch 04.

[5:45 p.m.] Washed-out rays of sunshine flood the arcade cafe, and Seungwan can’t contain her flourishing smile at the thought of Bae Joohyun visiting her at work. 

. . . . .

Sometimes I wish I could go and live in the clouds of your fantasies.

Being a part-time barista is a safe-haven for all of hers.

The junior buzzes around behind the counter, systematically preparing orders of cakes and coffees on the tiny overhead order slips. A satisfied hum sounds as she finishes prettying the dessert display and slides the glass window closed.

Cake display, check. 

Watermelon lychee-mint crush, coming up.

She dries her hands after spooning the frozen watermelon chunks into the blender, and the crinkle of her leather apron sounds brand new for some reason. Perhaps it’s because she feels brand new. Either way, her customers seem to pick up on her good mood too, and it blows her usually gruelling shift by like a light summer breeze. The hustle of work-pressed university students scrambling for their sugar rushes and extra shots of caffeine dulls in her ears, the memory of the past three weeks sitting at the very forefront of her thoughts. 

The past three weeks of back and forth texting, weekly study dates and a volantly climbing heart rate– wait no, a steadily building friendship.

About halfway through the afternoon, the regular tempo of her shift suddenly interrupts with a swish of silky hair and an award winning smile. 

“Wow, a barista. Cute and talented, I see. Where do I sign up?”

Seungwan adjusts the straps on her apron, blinking. “Taeyeon sunbaenim?”

“Kidding, kidding,” the girl laughs, holding her hand out as if that would somehow quell the bout of unease that had begun to well in the pit of Seungwan’s stomach. 

Remaining professional, she answers with a nervous laugh of her own. “What can I get for you today, sunbaenim?”

Taeyeon hums, tapping a delicate finger to her chin while she stares down at the fancy little menu. A vague smirk graces pink lips as her fingertip traces the bold laminated print. “Hm, what do your pancakes come with?”

Seungwan leans over the cash register to glaze over the small description underneath and then snaps back up, knowing the ingredients by heart already. “Oh! They’re plain buttermilk, but you can choose your topping! Uh… strawberries and ice cream is– it’s a customer favourite, if you’d like.” 

A hum of deliberation. “I see. And do I get special service?”

“S-Sorry?” The suggestion in her tone chokes the girl, unsure of what that means. 

Taeyeon gracefully giggles and leans over the counter to playfully tap Seungwan on the shoulder. “Yah, you’re too funny. I meant an extra scoop of ice cream. Since we know each other, obviously. Why, what were you thinking?”

“Ah! Of course I can do that for you,” she chuckles awkwardly, keying in the order. Seungwan’s fingers flinch around the Amex Black Card when it doesn’t slip out of Taeyeon’s as easily. Chestnut eyes peek up at her, and from the casual smirk on her face, the older girl seems to know what she’s doing.

“Oh yeah,” her expression contorts as though she’s trying to recall why she’s now holding up a small queue of foot-tapping, huffing customers. “How’s your project going?” 

She answers hastily, eyeing the holdup. “It’s great! Joohyun unnie is really helping me with this class.”

Taeyeon raises a brow. “Unnie?”

“Y-Yeah, Joohyun unnie’s great, can– can I take your card, please?” she reiterates.

“Ah,” the other girl finally nods in realisation, “you two are close friends now. That’s great! I’m glad to hear it’s going well.” The grip on the credit card slackens. “Thank you, Seungwan.”

Seungwan purses her lips, stiffly rocking on her heels as they both wait for the card reader to go ‘beep’. Once Taeyeon walks away, her tension dispels with a heavy sigh and she signals for the next customer.

Softy’s Autumn Morning comes on the set playlist shuffle. Pleasant lo-fi beats ripple through the cafe and Seungwan gently bops along as she works, carefully eyeing the bubbling pancake mix to make sure it doesn’t burn. 

Time seems to slow to a glacial pace. That is, until the little bronze bell chimes and a certain someone walks in. Seungwan recognises that vintage Balenciaga Defile Sport hoodie in a heartbeat. Her legs kick into gear and she rushes over to meet her. Joohyun approaches the counter with her signature gaze of boredom, but hides a laugh behind her sweater paw when she sees the barista almost trip over her own sneakers. 

Five minutes later, said barista is hunched over a small cup of latte, hands steadily crafting two pointy milk ears with the help of a toothpick.

As she pops a little bonus on the saucer in replacement of their standard Lotus Biscoff biscuit, Seungwan wonders where Sooyoung and Jennie are, melting a little at how Joohyun looks so small and harmless without the final duo to complete her killer posse. God, when they're all three together, it gets really hard to not believe she'sthe precious daughter of South Korea's most elusive mafia boss. The rumours have to come from somewhere, right? She takes a deep breath to steel her nerves before serving the mafia daughter sitting by the window.

“Enjoy your coffee, unnie!” she chirps, setting the steaming drink down. Service with a complimentary home baked cookie is her way of saying ‘I think you’re super cool’. 

Totally embarrassed at her dumb little gift, the girl slinks back to her station with sizzling ears before her senior can even thank her.

How cute.

Joohyun’s lips curl into a secret smile at the milk foam cat happily greeting her from her latte.

. . . . .

[7:45 p.m.] Seulgi whines when she goes to get a Cola from the fridge and finds the door wide open with Yerim chugging milk straight from the carton. Her roommate calmly caps the lid, dutifully ignoring her.

. . . . .

Polystyrene containers of spicy tteokbokki, salmon sashimi, crispy pork mandu as well as skewers of various glazed meats glisten deliciously under warm living room lights. It’s the perfect go-to cheat day feast. 

“Unnie, you’re like those tragic lovers in my dramas,” the youngest blurts, chewing on her Yakult straw. “Literally every one of them. Too dumb to confess and then drowns in their tears at night. You gonna break the cycle or what?”

Shock seizes Seungwan’s expression before she shakes her head at the way this heartless dongsaeng just takes her feelings and tosses them around like a salad. Still, she thinks, there’s no harm in being honest.

“What’s there to confess? We’re just friends."

Seulgi and Yerim exchange a silent look at the neat pile of tteokbokki on Seungwan’s plate. They remembered only a month ago, their friend seemed to have eyes for nothing else. The dish was so tasty she could marry it, apparently. But its charms seem to have worn off; now overshadowed by Joohyun’s endearingly obnoxious laughter and just about everything about her.

"Plus, you know, I doubt Joohyun unnie sees me that way either."

An epiphany strikes Yerim and she slaps her hand on the table, jabbing a restless finger at her shocked dorm mates. “Zenitsu, Zenitsu! Unnie, you’re Zenitsu, I’ve freaking figured it out.”

Confusion colours Seungwan’s face. “Zenits… who?”

“Zenitsu from Demon Slayer.”

“What?”

“That mopey kid.”

“Yerim-ah…” 

“Demon Slayer. Yerimie’s bingeing it right now. Anime on Netflix or something,” Seulgi explains through a mouthful of dumpling, “she won’t shut up about it. God help us there’s a movie out already.”

Curiosity soon has the confused girl peering at her screen, determined to find out what she’s being called. Thank god for YouTube. 

The youngest feels the heat as she watches her unnie’s expression become more and more deadpan with every passing video.

“Yerim. What, exactly, do you see of me in this?” Seungwan threateningly questions, holding up a paused clip of a cartoon boy grovelling at the feet of a pretty girl. She wonders if it’s wrong to want Joohyun to actually have mafia connections now… and if she’d be willing to share them with her for… purposes.

She shrugs defensively. “What? Don’t you think he’s cute?”

"Don't worry Wan, I don't see it either," Seulgi jumps in.

‘Cute’ isn’t quite the term. The blonde nonchalantly brings the chopsticks to her mouth and bites down… onto thin air. Much to the amusement of the two across her. “Hey how’s it going with Sooyoung?” she turns her attention to the girl sitting cross-legged opposite.

Seulgi tuts in reply, dangling a salmon slice in front of her unimpressed roomie. “Stop trying to change the subject, Wan. It’s sooo obvious.” After a pregnant pause, she grins like a kid on Christmas morning, spilling her own adventures with her third of the black velvet trio in one breath. “But thank you for asking because we’re going to the cinema this weekend.”

Yerim chopsticks another tteokbokki onto her plate. “Ooh, what movie?”

“Oh, uh…” Seulgi shrugs, “dunno… I think Sooyoung knows more about what’s good, so I’ll–”

“You’re gonna let her decide, is what I’m hearing,” the maknae scoffs with an eye roll.

Seungwan smiles.

“Simps… simps! Help, someone save me, you guys are everywhere!” Yerim pretends to drown on land and her friends resist the urge to jump her on the spot. 

. . . . .

[11:09 a.m.] The raven-haired senior catches her unsuspecting junior on her way through campus gardens the next morning and pries her for answers. 

. . . . . 

“Why a cat?”

Seungwan’s eyes form joyous crescent moons. “Unnie!”

Suddenly, she has to keep her focus from dwindling into how good they’d both look sitting under the shade of that big old oak tree. 

Somewhere through the cottoned clouds of her daydreams, they’re on one of their many picnics. Doughnuts, corn-dogs, toasted sandwiches and bottled juice litter the peach gingham mat they’re sitting on, and Joohyun offers her a corner of her Gilgeori toast. Of course, she cheekily tries her luck, leaving her with just the corner instead. She yelps when Joohyun gives her a shoulder thwack well deserved. 

Clumsy knees knock together as they laugh themselves silly, the powdered sugar on their lips melting into a sweet river every time she connects them with a kiss. 

Seungwan bites her lip, wringing her mind of those thoughts, trying to play down the elation at hearing her senior’s curiosity. “A cat? I-I don’t know, I just think they’re funny and– kinda cute.” Her voice goes squeaky with excitement. “You liked it? Unnie! You should order more coffees with milk in them. I’ll draw you a bunny next time!” 

Joohyun nods, willing to buy the cafe’s entire stock if it meant she got to see Seungwan beam like a praised puppy, all too eager to learn its next trick.

And she might’ve just marched down there right now to do as she’d said… if they weren’t ten minutes late for their class. Suddenly they’re both panickedly clutching at each other, torn between sprinting like they’re being chased by hyenas, turning up fashionably late, or hopping around and freaking out about the fact that they’re already eleven minutes late, now.

Joohyun’s wrist is grabbed just as she’s about to suggest the fashionably late option. Then she’s hurtling forward, struggling to keep her books from falling whilst poorly protesting the early-morning PE session. But Seungwan is too busy shouting nonsense into the skies about how this is the final chance the lightning gods get to strike her down and charge her up.

Which would’ve been convincing had her voice not cracked on every other word.

As the pair clumsily sprint down the path of pastel flower bushes, the older girl can’t remember the last time she’s laughed this freely. She can barely get the words out but she feels like she’d explode if she didn’t. 

“Seungwan-ah! You’re giving me a six pack!”

And when Seungwan turns back to laugh with her, something in Joohyun’s static heart ignites.

. . . . .

In the diamond, star-dappled sky, Cherub wakes from his silken cloud. Lily-white wings unfurl at the latest calling.

[peachyzens]

little things.

little things. Genre: FLUFF Summary: youtuber!Johnny has a birthday surprise for the other half of his channel. (1,927 words…) a/n: I had other ideas for this au but this one just HIT me so I had to do this one instead…also went for a different type of organization of this so…please bear with me; masterlist can be found in bio!  *the writing in italics are the video clips playing after the intro

“Is this thing on? Oh, alrighty, it is.” Johnny messed around with the camera, his clumsiness showing. He cleared his throat awkwardly before sitting in front of the camera placed on the tripod, feeling awkward in this new setting. He was a vlogger, not the sit-down type of youtuber, that was more of your thing but here he was, sitting down in front of the camera. “So, as we may or may not know, y/n’s birthday is coming up! And for their grand birthday present, because they said they didn’t need anything and they really don’t, trust me I can tell by living with them,” Johnny chuckled, taking in all of your belongings scattered around him. “I have decided to do a little video project. So, without further ado, let’s get it!” Johnny ended the clip with a smile, hand reaching out to turn off the camera. 

Seeing you grab the hand cream, Johnny quickly grabs the camera, panning over to you as you put a dollop of the hand cream on the backside of your hand as opposed to your palm, before rubbing it in with the backside of your other hand. Why you always applied hand cream that way, he will never understand. However, you were thoroughly convinced that this was the correct way to apply hand cream, and you were too passionate about that for him to argue with you. Seeing you continue with clicking at your keyboard, he cut the clip.

                                                              -

Johnny laid down in bed, teeth brushed and ready to sleep. He was scrolling on his phone when he saw your figure approach through the dimmed lights. As expected, you had your toothbrush in your mouth, simultaneously brushing your teeth as you moved about the room, cleaning things here and there. Quickly grabbing the camera, Johnny turns it on only for it to be focused on your back. “Hey babe,” he called out, to which to turned around in response. Johnny let out a loud laugh at your appearance, duck pajamas with a pink toothbrush hanging out your mouth, with an adorable confused expression he knew he would end up replaying when editing the clip. “Are you filling e?” you mumbled through your toothpaste filled mouth, to which Johnny laughed at your confused state. “Johnny!” you yelled, only for a big drop of toothpaste to fly out, causing Johnny to laugh even harder. You quickly slapped a hand over your mouth before running to the bathroom, finishing up your brushing there. He was glad he got such an adorable scene of you in your natural state, capturing the essence of your strange habit which was multitasking while brushing your teeth.

                                                             -

Shopping for groceries, it was something you oddly loved, which Johnny could never understand. Shopping trips that should be no longer than an hour, end being so due to your indecisive nature and thorough contemplation. Pulling out the camera with a smile, Johnny filmed his point of view from the cart as he followed your lead, pausing with you as you stopped at coffee section. He zoomed in on your puckered lips, a habit you did unknowingly when you were deep in thought. He watched you pick up one box before grabbing another one to compare, and repeating the same process with a few more boxes before finally placing one in the cart. You turned to him with your lips pressed into a slightly upturned line, your dimples coming out in view. “What?” You asked him, his smile almost mischievous but nevertheless, adoring. “Nothing, just BEAN thinking about you a LATTE,” he winked back, to which you rolled your eyes and quickly turned around to hide your blushing face. “Wait, I got another one!” He called out, nearly chasing you as you ran to hide from him in the aisle. “Come back so I can espresso my love to you!” He called out, laughing as you continued running to hide your embarrassment. He nodded at nearby shoppers, who watched the scene with amusement, before running with the cart to catch up with you.

                                                             -

While Johnny hated grocery shopping, you hated clothes shopping, specifically, trying things on. You would rather be in and out of a store, worrying about the clothes when you got home, while Johnny was the opposite. He would like to take his time strolling around the store, making sure to look at everything, before going over to the fitting room. So, when Johnny dragged you out to go shopping with him, you weren’t exactly the happiest. You grabbed the few things you liked that you saw, ready to checkout, only to find Johnny leisurely strolling around with a few items. Seeing you approach him, he quickly got the camera. “Done already?” He asked, his eyebrow raised. You nodded in response. “But I still have to try these on, did you even try those on?” He gestured at the handful of clothes you held; you shook your head in response. “Then how do you know they fit?” “I wrapped the pants around my neck, and I’m just sure that these shirts are my size! Please, you know how much I hate trying stuff on.” You looked at him with your big doe eyes, trying to convince him to hurry up. “Alright then, if they end up not fitting and I hear you complain about having to come back then I’ll say I told you so!” Johnny responded in a singsong voice, turning around to browse some more. Knowing Johnny was going to take forever, you groaned in response, following him like a dejected puppy. He laughed as he caught you pouting on the fitting room waiting bench, waiting for him to try clothes on. He came out to ask your opinion, to which you said that everything looked good to nearly every outfit. “If you say the same thing for every outfit how do I know you’re not just saying that so we can finish sooner?” He asked, laughing as he zoomed in on your irritated face. “Because! What else am I supposed to say when we both know you have an eye for picking out clothes? You don’t even need to try anything on to know it looks good!” You pouted even more, feet drawing imaginary circles into the ground. Johnny laughed at your childish antics, “Alright you big baby, lets go.” “Finally!” You cheered, whole demeanor flipped around. “Actually, I think I forgot to check that section over there,” Johnny mused, teasing you and laughing as you glared at him and the camera. “Alright, alright, let��s go now.” He grabbed your items, holding them in his opposite arm so he could hold your hand.

                                                             -

Being a youtuber, most of your time is spent editing, and you never edited without some sort of background noise. Whether it would be some random show on TV or your music playlist, it often filled up your entire apartment as you would get lost in the world of editing. Johnny always admired your concentration. Coming home after picking up some food, Johnny peered into your office, music coming through the speakers. You didn’t even notice him, so into editing that you didn’t even realize you were unconsciously singing along to the songs that you were playing. Quickly going to capture the scene, Johnny filmed you with a loving smile on his face. That smile grew as you began to sing louder reaching the climax of the song, to the point where it disrupted your concentration. You tear your eyes away from the screen, leaning back in the chair to find Johnny watching you with a camera and a smile. “Oh hey, when did you get home?” you asked, cheeks burning under his stare and having been caught by him. “A few minutes ago, I would’ve said something sooner, but I didn’t want to interrupt the concert.” He grinned. Rolling your eyes, you got up and made your way towards your boyfriend, arms wrapping around his waist. “Wow, and you were even filming a fancam of me? I’m so honored,” you giggled, playing along with his antics. He smiled and quickly leaned down to leave a kiss on your lips, one you happily returned. “Of course, don’t you know I’m your biggest fan?” He wiggled his eyebrows, only for you to roll your eyes before pulling him to the dining table so you could finally eat and take a break.

                                                             -

After washing the dishes after dinner, Johnny walked towards your room, seeing the door ajar with lights flashing from inside. He peeked in to see you sitting on your shared bed, eyes glued to the new voice activated lights you had just bought. He felt a smile come across your face as he watched you play different songs to watch the lights change, more intrigued by you than the lights. Quietly grabbing the camera, he turned it on, focusing it on your and your fascination with the lights. He was able to catch your entranced expression, one he found to be adorable as always. Taking in the scene of you so deeply intrigued by the warm lights that made you glow; he can’t think of a scene more beautiful. Clearing his throat and making his presence known, you snap your head to look at him. “Johnny Johnny Johnny! Look at this, isn’t it so cool?” You mused, grabbing his arm and pulling him to join you on the bed. He could only laugh lightly seeing your excitement resembling a little kid. With a determined expression, you scrolled to find the best songs to play for the lights, the beat of the music creating an interesting light pattern. While you were focused on the lights, he was focused on you. He could just feel his heart melt at you laughing and clapping at the lights, deeply amused by the scene playing out in front of you. You turned to him with such a childlike expression, he vowed to himself to preserve that bright personality and to protect you forever. “Why aren’t you looking at the lights, aren’t they cool?” You asked, cheeks burning at his loving stare. You placed your hands on his cheeks, turning his face to look at the lights instead of you. Who would’ve thought he would still have the effect on you, even after so many months together? “I don’t know, I think I like the sight of you more than these lights.” He tried to turn back to you to give you that charming smile you loved dearly, but your hands on his cheeks prevented him from doing so.   “Alright Mr.Cheesester, that’s enough!” You laughed, blushing at his antics.  

                                                             -

Cutting back to Johnny sitting on the bed, he smiled at the camera, thinking of the clips he played prior. He took many clips of you with your little quirks and habits that made you unique, before compiling together to create one whole video. “I hate to be that annoyingly sweet boyfriend, but I’m going to have to for this present I’m giving you. You always asked me where all those random clips I was getting of you were going, and obviously I couldn’t tell you. I just wanted to compile all the little things, all the little things I find adorable and some people may not, but that doesn’t matter because I love it all. All these clips I filmed of you, showing the little things you do, never fail to make me fall in love with you. Happy birthday y/n, I love you more than anything else.”

[marypsue]

house rule #3

So Darcy Lewis' new roommate might secretly be a supervillain. At least she always takes out the trash.

I timewarped in from 2012 to bring you this silly fic. Canon divergent(...ish? If anything contradicts canon pretend it's an AU) after Thor. I've never kept a timeline straight in my life and I don't intend to start now.

Happy New Year or whatever.

[on AO3]

...

Darcy goes back to school after New Mexico, and her roommate is gone.

Not, like, vanished by the government the way Darcy nearly was (thanks, Jane), probably, because apparently Melissa stopped and had a nice long chat with the landlady about why she was suddenly packing up and moving out mid-school-year. Oh, and took back the damage deposit that Darcy paid half of. Thanks, Melissa.

Darcy pays up for the damage deposit, goes back up to the apartment, puts on some angry music, and drafts an ad for a new roommate. She posts it online, then makes herself some noodles, eats them while watching Jenna Marbles videos on Youtube, and then goes to bed.

The next morning, there’s exactly one email response to her ad sitting in her inbox.

That’s how Darcy meets Lucy Walker.

Lucy’s an exchange student, over from England for a single semester. Her accent is as charmingly Mary Poppins-ish as her extremely convenient arrival. Darcy’s so relieved to have somebody to pick up the other half of the rent that she thinks she doesn’t even care if Lucy’s Single-White-Female-ing her right now. She says as much, and Lucy just gives her a good-naturedly baffled look before changing the subject to utilities.

Lucy’s good with Darcy’s 50/50 arrangement for utilities, isn’t horrified that Darcy doesn’t have cable and expects Lucy to pay for it if she absolutely can’t live without it (though she is horrified that Darcy doesn’t have an electric kettle, and by Darcy’s suggestion that she microwave the water for her tea), and seems satisfied with the smaller bedroom. She signs the lease before she leaves the viewing, and by the end of the week, she’s fully moved in.

The first night that Lucy stays at the apartment, Darcy orders in Thai and makes them both Long Island iced teas. It’s got tea in the name, she figures. The Brit will probably like it. Also maybe get drunk enough to let slip if she’s planning to wear Darcy’s skin like a suit.

But the alcohol barely seems to touch Lucy. If anything, she gets quieter, moodier. This was the opposite of what Darcy was going for, so she turns on some music to bring the mood back up.

“Oh, house rule number one,” she says, as she hits shuffle on her dance-pop playlist. “Stereo’s mine. I control the music. Unless you have, like, really good taste in music, and even then, ask first.”

Lucy smiles at her, slowly, over her novelty tiki mug of extremely powerful booze. “I find it better by far to beg forgiveness than ask permission. How will I know if I have, ‘like, really good taste in music’?”

“Oh, I’ll let you know,” Darcy says. “Here, gimme your iPod, let’s take a look.” She holds out a hand, wiggling her fingers. Lucy shifts uncomfortably in her seat.

“I don’t…have one of those,” she says, warily, and Darcy draws her hand back.

“Yeah? No big. I almost didn’t either, after the government stole it.” She shakes her head. “What bands do you like?”

“I’m afraid I’m not familiar with many American bands,” Lucy says, and Darcy beams.

“Even better! You’re a blank slate.”

“Yes, I certainly am that,” Lucy says, into her tiki mug, her eyebrows rising.

“Okay, cryptic,” Darcy says, and skips to Party Rock Anthem. “Hey, do you need more booze?”

Lucy, it turns out, is in the States studying business, though if the way she talks about her one Shakespeare-focused lit class is anything to go by, her true love is drama. She’s here because her older brother did the exchange program and got so much out of it, though so far she seems pretty unimpressed with the States.

“Well, I mean,” Darcy says. “We are barbarians who microwave our tea.”

Lucy laughs so hard at that that Darcy suspects she’s not as unaffected by the Long Island iced teas as she’d like to pretend.

 …

 Darcy ends up using the electric kettle almost as much as Lucy does. She doesn’t convert from coffee, though. Starbucks still owns her ass. She should really invest in shares.

Lucy makes herself incredibly easy to get along with. Sure, she takes forever in the bathroom every morning – probably making her hair do that thing it does, Darcy’s got no idea how she keeps it in place, she’s starting to suspect witchcraft - but she wakes up at hours that Darcy’s only ever seen from the other side, so it’s not really an issue. Lucy pulls long (and slightly odd) hours in the library, doesn’t bitch about Darcy’s music, always washes her dishes and takes out the trash and replaces the toilet paper roll. She doesn’t throw wild parties or steal Darcy’s jackets or leave clumps of hair in the shower or perishable food out on the counter for hours or invite her boyfriend to basically move in rent-free like some roommates Darcy could name.

But she also…doesn’t seem to have any…friends.

Lucy never brings anybody to the apartment, which is a point in her favour as far as Darcy’s concerned. But she also never talks about meeting anybody at the library or for coffee. She doesn’t have people over, but she also doesn’t go out. She’s not bad-looking - pretty, even, in a pointy kind of way, with those dark Snow White curls and pale skin and big sad-puppy green eyes – but as far as Darcy can tell, there’s no boyfriend in the picture, not even a long-distance one.

And she doesn’t call her family.

At first, Darcy thought it was a time zone thing, but after some of the things Lucy’s said in passing about her dad – well, it sounds like things between her and her family are kind of…strained. Darcy isn’t sure, but she thinks Lucy might actually be adopted. Maybe. Lucy seems to live for cryptic answers to straightforward questions.

Ordinarily, Darcy would consider all of this not her problem. But ordinarily, Darcy would also not be coming home after classes on a Friday to find her practically-perfect-in-every-way new roommate curled up on the couch hugging Darcy’s pug pillow to her chest and staring blankly at the wall. Lucy’s not crying, but her cheeks are suspiciously shiny.

She doesn’t seem to notice Darcy’s come in until Darcy says her name twice, and then she jumps up with a guilty expression, like Darcy’d just walked in and caught her jerkin’ it. Wanking? She is British, after all.

“Don’t mind me,” Lucy says, scrubbing a hand under each of her eyes in turn, an extremely bright and extremely fake smile settling over her face. “I was just heading back to the library – how was your class?”

“Not interesting enough to distract me into changing the subject?” Darcy says. “And don’t try to tell me you’re fine, because you’re obviously not. What gives?”

Lucy’s smile takes a turn for the embarrassed. “I’d really prefer not to discuss it.”

Darcy shrugs, dropping her satchel on the coffee table. “Sure. But – house rule number two. I’m like Dolly Parton. Nobody cries alone in my presence.”

Lucy rubs the sleeve of her dark blazer across her cheek. “Well, no one’s crying here,” she says.

“Yeah,” Darcy says, rolling her eyes as she unwinds her scarf from around her neck. “Anymore.”

“Really,” Lucy says, but her fake smile looks a little less fake. “Please don’t concern yourself. It’s not anything – not anything you can help.”

“Okay,” Darcy says, tossing her scarf over the hook by the door, her hat on top of it. “Wanna eat our feelings and make fun of ANTM highlights?”

Lucy gives her a blink that Darcy’s starting to recognize as her ‘I-don’t-get-that-pop-culture-reference-but-I-don’t-want-to-look-like-I-don’t-get-that-pop-culture-reference’ look.

“America’s Next Top Model?” Darcy says. “Tyra Banks? We were all rooting for you?” Lucy still looks blank, so Darcy grabs her satchel and pulls out her laptop. “Oh, this is happening. Reality television is everything that’s wrong with society today, which is what I love about it.”

She plops down on the couch, propping her feet up on the coffee table and her laptop on her knees. When she looks up, Lucy still hasn’t moved. Darcy pats the seat beside her. “C’mon, you’re not gonna be able to see anything from up there.”

Lucy does her best impression of a spooked horse ready to bolt, staring at the cushion next to Darcy like it’s a coiled viper.

“I should get to the library,” she says, half-heartedly. “Study…”

“No, what you should get is that pint of Cherry Garcia out of the fridge and bring it over here,” Darcy says. “Oh, and two spoons.”

 …

 Bad Reality TV Night quickly becomes an apartment tradition. If by ‘tradition’ you mean ‘whenever we feel like it’, which Darcy does.

They catch up on the highlights of the Bachelor, Jersey Shore, and Survivor, though Lucy also seems to like ANTM best. It’s a good excuse to spend time together that doesn’t involve chores or schoolwork. And Darcy’s never been one for standing on ceremony, but a good icebreaker is a good icebreaker.

Better than a taser, at least.

 …

 “What on earth is that smell?”

Darcy looks up from the choking clouds of smoke billowing out of the oven, waving an arm to try to waft it out of the way. Lucy’s standing in the doorway with her scarf pulled up over her mouth and nose and both of her eyebrows raised in a look that somehow manages to convey a whole range of emotions, from ‘disappointed and only a little surprised’ all the way to ‘looks into the camera like she’s on The Office’.

“Bread,” Darcy says, in the face of all the evidence. And then, with a last mournful glance into the depths of the oven, “Okay, the artist formerly known as bread. But, I put the fire out.”

“The oven was on fire?!” Lucy asks, her expression going straight to ‘alarmed’, and Darcy coughs into her hand.

“Key word was. Oh, and by the way, we need more baking soda.”

“Do I want to know?”

“You use it to smother oven fires? C’mon, even I knew that.”

Lucy pauses, her expression going carefully blank for a moment. “I don’t…bake at all. Never have.”

“What? Like you don’t even stress bake?”

Lucy’s expression stays blank. “It wasn’t something I was ever encouraged to learn.”

Darcy slams the oven door shut on the last few sad poofs of smoke, straightening up. Forget the aftermath of her bread. This is way more important. “You seriously don’t stress bake? What do you do when somebody makes you so mad you just wanna stab them?”

“Usually, I stab them,” Lucy says, in a voice so dry that Darcy honestly can’t tell if she’s joking.

“Okay,” Darcy says, with a shrug. “But you usually get way less arrested if you take it out on some dough instead.”

“Was that what you were trying to do here?” Lucy asks, waving a hand in front of her face like she can just shoo the smoke away. Funny, for a second it almost seems to be actually working, but then she snorks up a lungful and almost doubles over coughing.

“Oh yeah,” Darcy says. “Professor Doucheface was on his A game today, so I needed something to knead.”

Lucy looks slightly stunned, coming down from her coughing fit, but the ghost of a smile makes its way across her face. “I gather that ‘Professor Doucheface’ is not his given name.”

“Oh, it’s his given name all right. I gave it to him. At the beginning of the semester when he circlejerked about Machiavelli with these two fratbros in the front row for twenty minutes.” Darcy rolls her eyes. One of these days she’s going to figure out how to roll them right back so all you can see are the whites. It’s gonna look so badass. “It was all downhill from there.”

Lucy hums a little in the back of her throat. “Machiavelli made some interesting points.”

“Not you too.” Darcy tries to wave some of the smoke towards the open window. It very much does not work. “I keep forgetting you’re a business student. Is your whole degree just learning how to be an evil mastermind?”

Lucy taps a finger against her chin, thoughtfully. “…it rather is, now that I consider it. But I suppose there are worse things one could be.”

“No offense, but, like what.”

Lucy laughs at that, but it doesn’t escape Darcy’s notice that she doesn’t actually have an answer. Which is not actually surprising. Because seriously.

“All right,” Darcy says, peeking inside the oven and coughing when she gets a faceful of smoke. “I’m gonna clean this out, and then – we’re making chocolate chip cookies.”

 …

 Introducing Lucy to stress baking is probably the best idea Darcy’s ever had, ever. After the first couple of oven fires and garbage batches, there are always freshly-baked sweet treats around the apartment, and it constantly smells delicious. Darcy would worry about Lucy’s mental state if all that baking hadn’t led her to master the chocolate-chip-to-cookie ratio in all its ooey gooey goodness. She’s since moved on to cupcakes, and Darcy has high hopes for Lucy’s buttercream technique.

It’s a couple of weeks later that Darcy comes home and finds the kitchen full of racks upon racks of cookies and cupcakes both. She only pauses long enough to stuff a chocolate-chip cookie in her face before she asks, “Okay, is it your own Professor Doucheface, or something else?”

Lucy doesn’t answer right away, and doesn’t take her eyes off her dough.

After what feels like an entire ice age, she says, “I tried. To recreate a pastry that I remembered from home.” She shakes her head, a long, dark curl falling out of her messy braid. “And I couldn’t.”

Darcy chews on that for a moment as she chews on cookie. “You’re homesick?”

Lucy pauses, tucking the stray lock of hair behind one ear and smearing a white streak of flour along one Morticia Addams cheekbone. She flashes a rueful grin in Darcy’s direction, before going back to almost angrily kneading the ball of dough on the countertop in front of her. “You must think it’s silly. It was my choice to leave, after all, and yet here I am, wallowing.”

Darcy shrugs, leaning over to snag another cookie from the cooling rack. They’re still warm, the chocolate all melty and goopy inside. Heaven. “I dunno. Like, you’re halfway across the world all on your own.” She turns her full attention to separating a particularly sticky chocolate chip from her teeth before saying, “Mostly I’m just surprised because your home sounds like it sucks a fat one.”

Lucy gives a sharp, brittle laugh, and shoves the heels of both hands into the dough with surprising viciousness. She doesn’t talk for a long moment after that, just kneading and kneading and kneading until Darcy has to look away or risk getting hypnotized.

“I get it, though,” she says, ignoring the flat, disbelieving glance Lucy shoots in her direction. “I mean, the farthest I’ve ever been from home was New Mexico, and no offense to Jane or Puente Antigua, but that place sucked.” She demolishes the last bite of cookie, and licks the remnants of chocolate chip from her fingers. Hey, waste not, want not, right? “Although that was at least fifty percent the government’s fault. But! The other half was not having anybody to just hang out with. Jane’s great, don’t get me wrong, but can you say obsessive. Okay, and the internet connection made dialup look like the wave of the future, and you couldn’t get Starbucks without driving three hours, and -”

Lucy’s giving her a blank look. Darcy snags another cookie and waves it dismissively, barely managing to catch the top piece when it unexpectedly breaks in half in her hand. “Point is, we gotta get you out and meet some people. And I guess maybe some decent fish and chips.”

Lucy snorts dismissively at that, her hands rolling back into motion. That bread’s gonna be way overworked, but Darcy figures that’s one she’ll let Lucy figure out for herself.

“Also, it probably wouldn’t kill you to call your mom once in a while,” she says, chomping down on her cookie. How many is that now? Better question, does it matter. They’re best right out of the oven anyway. “I know shit’s weird with your dad and everything, but it sounds like your mom wouldn’t mind knowing you haven’t been eaten by a bald eagle or fallen off Mount Rushmore or whatever. And it sounds like your brother cares about you a lot. Even if he is a doofus.”

Lucy’s face cracks in a big, surprised, unamused grin, and she shakes her head, turning away with a soft huff of laughter.

“My brother cares about the person he wishes me to be,” she says at last, giving the dough another vicious shove.

“You don’t have to talk to him. Just let your mom know you’re not dead, she can pass it on.”

Lucy doesn’t look up from the dough. “I’m not certain it’s a good idea for me to try to contact my family.”

“Really? ‘cause I am,” Darcy says. “Are you worried about the long-distance charges? I know tuition’s higher for international students, but I didn’t think it was that bad.”

Lucy glares down the dough. “You have no idea what price I paid to be here.”

“I mean, I have some idea,” Darcy says. “You do give me your half of the rent every month.”

Lucy looks up, and then bursts out laughing.

“I like you, Darcy Lewis,” she says, once she’s got herself back under control. “Do you want to apply your flawlessly straightforward logic to every aspect of my life?”

Darcy shrugs. “Point me at the problem. I guarantee you that in twenty-four hours, either the problem’ll be gone, or you’ll have a way bigger, different problem to worry about instead.”

 …

 Lucy still demurs every time Darcy tries to invite her along any time she’s meeting friends, though. By the third or fourth time she makes up some bullshit excuse, Darcy’s starting to get fed up.

So she invites everybody over to the apartment instead.

Lucy comes back from the library somewhere between pizza and wine. She freezes in the doorway with one arm outstretched, overcoat and houndstooth scarf arrested halfway to the hook on the wall. A brief flicker of panic races across her face before she smooths her expression out, hanging up her coat and shaking out her hair.

“Darcy?” she calls, breaking into a broad smile when she catches Darcy’s eye. “Having a few friends over?”

“Yeah, come grab a glass of wine,” Darcy calls back from the living room. “We could use one more for Cards Against Humanity.”

“Cards against…” Lucy echoes, hovering in the entryway. Obviously she’s not going to take the initiative, so Darcy gets up and makes for the kitchen.

“Do they not have Cards Against Humanity in the UK?” Jared asks from the floor beside the coffee table, as Darcy pours out the dregs of a bottle of red into one of the only clean glasses. After a moment’s thought, she tops it off with white. Hey, that’s all rosé is, right?

“Yeah, and actually, what is the difference between the UK, England, and Britain?” Ayesha asks. “I’ve never been able to get it right.”

“Rude,” Darcy says, making her way back into the living room. Lucy’s still standing in the entryway, but her posture doesn’t look quite so stiff anymore, and her shoulders are creeping down from around her ears. Still, she looks awfully relieved when Darcy hands her the novelty plastic cactus-shaped cup of wine. “Nosy here is Ayesha, that’s Jared, strong and silent in the recliner is Vince, and half-passed-out-on-the-couch-already is Rachel. Guys, say hi to Lucy.”

“The practically perfect in every way?” Rachel asks, lifting her head from the hilarious pillow with a picture of a pug in a bedazzled tiara. Lucy’s cheekbones and the tips of her ears go brightly pink, but her grin is wicked.

“Ooh, Darcy. What have you been saying about me.” She takes a sip of her wine, makes a face at it, and then settles herself down on one of the cushions Darcy’s tossed around the coffee table, carefully arranging her pencil skirt. “How do you play this game, then?”

 …

 They add ‘Cards Against Humanity night’ to the roster of apartment traditions. Nobody really seems to mind that Lucy wins almost every time. Beating her is an interesting challenge. Like Rachel says, she makes them get creative.

 …

 They’re catching up on Big Brother highlights when Lucy asks Darcy, “Would you ever audition for one of these shows?”

Darcy snorts. “Thanks, but no thanks. You?”

Lucy narrows her eyes, smiling thoughtfully at the screen. “I think I could win one. The only thing would be convincing the producers I’d be interesting enough to watch.” She turns that grin on Darcy. “You have an advantage there.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Darcy asks, crossing her arms with a good-natured glare.

Lucy flicks her eyes ceilingward with an expression of affected innocence. “Only that these shows seem to reward distinctive and outsized personalities.”

Darcy mentally translates that into English, then shrugs. “Hey, I’ve been accused of worse. I think.”

Lucy smiles, and says nothing.

“You’d need a gimmick,” Darcy says, watching one of the Big Brother girls hitting another with an inflatable palm tree. “Like…always referring to yourself in the third person, or insisting people call you ‘princess’, or something.”

Lucy’s smile goes a little tight around the edges, but she doesn’t comment.

“No. I don’t think I could stoop to that for any length of time,” she says, at last. “I suppose that’s another plan to cross off the list for once I complete my degree.”

“Do you know what you’re gonna do once you get outta here?” Darcy asks, with a glance over at Lucy. The inflatable palm tree fight got old fast.

Lucy doesn’t take her eyes from the laptop screen. “I thought I did.”

She really knows how to torpedo a mood, Darcy decides.

“Maybe I should audition for a reality show,” she says. “At least you know stuff about running a business. Probably. I mean, I don’t know, you could be failing out.”

Lucy huffs something that’s halfway to a laugh. “I assure you, I’m not failing out.”

“That’s what they all say,” Darcy says, reaching for a handful of popcorn.

Lucy glances in her direction, waiting until Darcy’s got her handful of popcorn before stealing the bowl and settling it into her lap. “What about that – Jane you worked for? Would she hire you back?”

Darcy snorts. Again. “Yeah, sure. If she couldn’t get anybody else.”

Lucy hums in the back of her throat. “Oh, never underestimate the power of being the only option. What were you doing for her, anyway?”

Darcy grimaces. “Making coffee, mostly. She’s an astrophysicist and I…am not.”

“Astrophysics?” Lucy asks, raising an eyebrow, a handful of popcorn apparently forgotten halfway to her mouth. “Now that sounds interesting.”

“Most of it went over my head,” Darcy says. “The wormhole stuff was pretty cool, though.”

Lucy doesn’t say anything, but her face is like a big flashing neon sign saying ‘tell me more’. Darcy’s not sure how much she’s actually allowed to say without a bunch of S.H.I.E.L.D. guys rolling up, smashing through all her windows, and whisking her off to some top-secret torture pit, though, so she just says, “Let’s just say science fiction didn’t get it totally wrong, for once.” She takes a sip of her coffee, staring Lucy down. “So what were you planning to do before whatever, and why aren’t you anymore?”

Lucy shakes her head. “Oh, no. Not if you get to leave me on that kind of a cliffhanger.”

Darcy rolls her eyes. “Okay. Guess we’re just gonna watch Big Brother, then.”

They watch Big Brother.

It’s about seven and a half minutes before Lucy says, slowly, “There is a…family business. My brother is the eldest, we always knew he would inherit, but -” She shakes her head again, tucking a lock of hair back behind her ear. “He’s never had much of a head for business. I had assumed I’d be – taken on in a managerial capacity, but with the state of things between me and my family now…”

“See, I’ve never got that,” Darcy says. “Why not just let the person who’s actually good at the thing do the thing?”

“Our father is, unfortunately, something of a traditionalist,” Lucy says.

Darcy rolls her eyes.

“But perhaps it’s all for the best,” Lucy continues, darting a smile in Darcy’s direction. “I’m finding that this really is the land of opportunity. Even if you occasionally have to make your own.”

It’d be a little unfair to leave her hanging after that – even that much of a confession is a lot, coming from tight-lipped Lucy – so Darcy does end up telling her a little about New Mexico. Leaving out the bits about the Men in Black and the buff space aliens, of course.

Lucy’s a good listener – she makes all the right faces at all the right times, and asks relevant questions without interrupting. Darcy actually ends up telling her a little more than she strictly meant to. Although, to be fair to Lucy, Darcy usually ends up telling everybody a little more about everything than she strictly means to. One of these days, she’s gotta get herself a brain-to-mouth filter.

“It sounds as though you enjoyed yourself,” Lucy says, when Darcy finally runs herself out.

“I guess,” Darcy says. “I mean, it kinda stank at the time – literally, it’s hot in New Mexico and Jane’s trailer had the shittiest shower hookup. But it was also kinda an adventure.” She shrugs. “Except the parts where we all nearly died. Jane really needs to learn not to hijack vans to drive directly at tornados.”

Lucy leans forward, setting the popcorn bowl back on the coffee table. “Is Jane still researching these Einstein-Rosen bridges?”

“Think so. She wants to make her own, eventually, but it didn’t sound like that was gonna happen anytime soon. Sounded like she’d need her own nuclear reactor to get enough oomph behind it.”

Lucy nods consideringly. “Well, if she’s still working in that area, you might reach out and see if she needs an assistant.”

Darcy rolls her eyes. “Yeah, sure. She’s got a couple articles published now. And funding. If she needs an assistant, she’s gonna pick somebody who knows the difference between a quark and a quasar.”

Lucy pouts dramatically at her. “Now, that doesn’t sound like the Darcy I know. Where’s that boundless confidence?”

“Taking a backseat to realism for five minutes? Like I said, I was the only applicant last time.”

“You only need an edge,” Lucy says, like it’s so super easy. “Make yourself stand out from the competition, demonstrate how you are the best candidate. You already have Jane’s confidence, that’s half the battle.” She winks at Darcy before adding, “Of course, you could always simply eliminate the other candidates, but I know your feelings on poison.”

“I’m never totally sure you’re joking when you talk about murder,” Darcy says.

“Because I’m not,” Lucy says, perfectly deadpan. “I am entirely sincere at all times.”

“Whatever. I’m gonna blame the accent.”

“What did you do when you applied the first time?” Lucy asks, going for another handful of popcorn and neatly sidestepping the conversation about her honestly worrying tendency to default to ‘when in doubt, stab them’. No wonder she likes Shakespeare.

“I just emailed Jane with the names and numbers of a bunch of my references,” Darcy says, going for her coffee again. “Like I said. Only applicant.”

The look Lucy gives her is probably the same look she gives to, like, baby animals that trip on their own tails. Like Darcy’s adorable, but only because she’s so pathetic.

“If there’s one thing you learn in business school,” she says, “it’s how to ace a job interview.”

“Excuse you,” Darcy says. “I interview great.”

Lucy says nothing, just looks Darcy up and down and then looks to her left with her eyebrows raised, like there’s a whole lot she could say but she’s politely restraining herself.

“Oh, what,” Darcy says, wiggling back further into the couch and re-crossing her arms. “Don’t give me that discreetly, Britishly rude shit. Spit it.”

A grin slowly sneaks its way across Lucy’s face, and she shakes her head with a laugh. “So forthright. And yet, so perceptive.”

“Well, you were broadcasting…pretty loud and clear,” Darcy points out.

“You’d be amazed what some people fail to pick up on,” Lucy says, half to herself.

“Whatever,” Darcy says. “Lay your wisdom on me, o business major. What’m I doing so obviously wrong?”

Lucy gives her a smile that only turns pitying a little at the end.

“Well, no one could doubt your confidence,” she says. “My only question is how you choose to channel it. I’m sure it’s admirable not to care about the impression one leaves upon others, but when one attempts to take on a new role, that impression is everything.”

Darcy waits, and when no more follows, shrugs.

“You don’t – ah – dress for success,” Lucy says, settling back on the couch with her back against the armrest, so she can look Darcy full in the face as she counts points off on her fingers. “You tend to treat punctuality as though it’s optional. Your forthrightness, while refreshing, could be seen to evidence a lack of tact or forethought – a tendency to charge in without thinking. Which, while a quality many seem to value in their leaders, is not in fact a strategy that frequently yields great success.”

“Unless you’re super buff and hot,” Darcy points out, thinking of Thor.

Lucy rolls her eyes, with a long-suffering sigh. “Yes. As your reality television proves quite handily, a great many rules have their exceptions if you are, as you say, ‘super buff and hot’.”

“Well, I’m already hot,” Darcy says. “So all I gotta do is hit the gym.”

Lucy gives her a flat, disbelieving look. Darcy makes direct eye contact, and flexes one arm, duckfacing before she leans over to kiss her nonexistent bicep.

She’s not sure which of them cracks up first, but she hopes it’s Lucy.

“Is that why you always dress like you’re just stopping in to the office to finish up the Johnson contract?” Darcy asks, when she gets her breath back. “Like, I know suits are required wearing for the business school, but you are allowed to wear, like, jeans or leggings or stuff on Saturdays.”

“I think it’s wise, to require a certain degree of presentation,” Lucy says, primly. “In many cases, the trappings of authority wield as much power as the authority itself. Others’ perception of you, of your legitimacy, is critical to exercising that authority.” She grins, wickedly. “Just ask Macbeth. Or any of the fools demanding your president’s birth video.”

Darcy rolls her eyes. “Please. Don’t remind me.” She very quickly seizes on the flaw in that logic, though. “But you’re not royalty - no, I know you’re not related to Queen Liz, don’t try that one on me again,” she adds, firmly, and Lucy rolls her eyes ceilingward with an innocent expression. “Or a president, or any other kind of leader of a country. You can get away with wearing jeans every once in a while, it’s not like nobody will ever take you seriously again.”

“So says the woman who wears nothing but jeans,” Lucy says, and then, her eyes crinkling up in a smile, “And has never once in her life been taken seriously.”

Darcy throws the pug pillow at her.

Lucy catches it with the ease of long practice, settling it behind her and making a big show of getting comfortable.

“Only a tiny fraction of a job interview – or, really, of any interaction - is its content. Like it or not, others draw conclusions from how you present yourself,” she says. “You want to present yourself in such a way that they draw the conclusions you wish them to draw.”

She looks at Darcy’s face, and sighs. “You need to learn to smize. But with your clothing, your body language, your choice of words. Smile without your mouth, speak without your words.”

Darcy blinks at her.

“Actually,” she says, “when you put it like that…that makes way more sense than just ‘you’re wearing that?’.”

Lucy gives her a broad, triumphant grin.

“Well,” she says. “If all it takes is a translation into Tyra Banks, there may be hope for you yet.”

Darcy looks around for something else to throw, but there’s nothing close to hand. Instead, she bobs her head in Lucy’s direction with a sarcastic glare. Lucy smiles back angelically.

“Don’t you ever get, like, tired of it, though?” Darcy asks, and Lucy’s smile suddenly goes blank behind the eyes. “I mean, always being on your best behaviour. Always overthinking what other people think of you -”

The smile drops off Lucy’s face so fast Darcy thinks it breaks the sound barrier. She could swear the temperature in the room drops ten degrees in ten seconds.

Lucy glares at the laptop for a long, chilly moment before she turns a haughty, challenging look on Darcy. “I do not have the luxury of airing my dirty laundry for the world to see.”

“So you’re just gonna fake it, forever?” Darcy asks, feeling a little sideswiped. This conversation has taken a turn, and she’s not totally sure she likes the direction it’s going now. “That’s stupid.”

“You may try that flawless line of reasoning on my father,” Lucy says coldly.

Darcy shrugs. “I mean, if you’ll pay for my plane ticket. Or, like, call him, ever.”

“You have no idea what it’s been like, the kind of pressure -” Lucy starts, her voice low, her stare intense under lowered brows, but Darcy cuts her off.

“What, you think just because I don’t care what other people think about me, that I don’t notice it? Yeah, I know most people don’t absolutely love it when you just say whatever and never shut up. Total shocker.”

“All the more reason to have a care what face you present to the world.”

Suddenly, Darcy’s irritated, with Lucy, with Lucy’s whole Hamlet act, with the whole stupid world. “Oh, get over yourself. Like I’ve never tried. Do you really think I wouldn’t love to just always know what I’m doing wrong before I do it and be able to turn it off?”

Lucy’s expression softens, subtly, at that. “Believe me when I say I do understand. You’re far from the only one who’s unacceptable to the world the way they are.”

“Who gets to decide what’s ‘acceptable’, anyway? Because I feel like we should find them and like, gag them and toss them in a basement somewhere.” Darcy shakes her head. “I don’t want to pretend I’m something I’m not just to impress some randos. Sooner or later, they always find out I’m, well, me, and then I’ve wasted a bunch of time I could’ve spent watching cat videos. With people who actually like me.”

Darcy’s aware that Lucy’s watching her, very intently, and shrugs again, suddenly embarrassed by how much personal garbage she’s just spewed at a near-stranger. Darcy Lewis’ Lack of Filter strikes again.

“So like…yeah,” she concludes, lamely.

The smile Lucy gives her is a weak imitation of her usual confidence.

“An admirable philosophy, Polonius,” she says, sounding just a little too wistful for the sarcasm to really bite.

“Oh, fuck you,” Darcy sighs, flopping back against the arm of the couch with her arms akimbo, huffing a stray curl out of her face. “Sorry we can’t all be practically perfect in every way.”

There’s a moment of unbelievably glassy silence.

“I’m far from perfect,” Lucy says, quietly, at last.

“Sure,” Darcy says. “I just don’t know it, because I’ve never seen the ‘real’ you. Because you won’t chill out around anybody. And then you’ll get mad and resentful that I don’t get the ‘real’ you and it’ll all end in tears.” She bobs her head back up so she can look Lucy in the face. “Or, you could stop treating your life like it’s a job interview, follow my lead, and dump all your messy, complicated feelings on somebody you’ve known for like a month with no warning.”

Lucy’s face doesn’t change, and Darcy, unable to stop her face from saying words even under the best of circumstances, adds, “Y’know. Like we’re friends.”

The look Lucy gives her is entirely unreadable. Darcy gives it her best effort for maybe ten seconds anyway, then gives up trying.

“Just a suggestion,” she says, as Lucy rises from the couch.

“It’s been a long day,” Lucy says, avoiding eye contact. “And tomorrow will be as well. I’d best turn in.”

“Coward,” Darcy calls after her, as she starts down the hall. “Don’t be afraid of the overshare!”

She considers getting up and grabbing the pug pillow to throw at Lucy again, but decides it seems like too much effort.

 …

 The next morning, Darcy catches Lucy in the kitchen before she leaves for class, which is unusual. Still, Darcy Lewis has never been one to look the proverbial gift horse in its proverbial gift mouth.

“Hey, I’m sorry about last night,” she says, as she pours coffee into her cocoa puffs. “If I was outta line, or stepped over some boundaries…you know.”

Lucy blinks at the bowl of bobbing pale-brown cereal in dark-brown coffee, but says nothing, just passes Darcy the milk so she can add it to her creation.

“I apologise, as well,” she says, at last, with a brief, bright, not-entirely-convincing smile. “Some measure of what you said…touched a nerve.”

“I figured,” Darcy says. “It’s what I do best. Touch nerves, get jobs I’m not qualified for, make killer playlists.”

She meets Lucy’s eyes, and they share a smile.

“I’m not… I don’t share myself the way you do,” Lucy says, at last, turning to the cupboards for a spoon to stir her coffee. “I don’t believe I could, or that I’d wish to. But…”

She pauses to take a long sip of her coffee, the spoon still in it. “This past year, I’ve learned a few things about myself that I…am having difficulty coming to terms with. Things I’m afraid have not provoked a positive response from those I’ve chosen or been obliged to share with. I – it helps, to present myself carefully, to know I have some choice in how others perceive me. To have some measure of control.” Lucy gives the coffee another stir, staring into its spiral. “To be certain they aren’t seeing – certain aspects of myself that I’d prefer not to exist.”

“Wait,” Darcy says, trying to shuffle all of those pieces into order in her mind. “You’re insecure about your appearance?”

Over the top of her coffee mug, Lucy skewers her with a glare.

“Yeah, okay, fair. I guess it was a shitty thing to say anyway.”

Lucy turns her stare down into her coffee. “Perhaps this does make me a coward.”

“What? No way,” Darcy says. “It’s smart. Just, like, as a sometimes thing. Did you miss the part where I said if I could pretend to be a normal person, I would?”

“You shouldn’t,” Lucy says. “If you could, you wouldn’t be Darcy.”

Darcy bites her bottom lip.

“Thanks,” she says. “I think.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Lucy says, smoothly, a mischievous smile starting to play around her lips. “Take it as a compliment.”

Darcy aims a kick in her direction, which misses by a mile, then settles down to eat her cereal experiment.

“Well, this is terrible,” she says, a few bites in.

“I honestly don’t know what you expected,” Lucy says.

 …

 Professor Doucheface isn’t at the front of the class one afternoon not long after that. The smiling woman who’s taken his place explains that he’s taken a leave of absence and will be back when he’s back, which might not be before the end of the semester.

Darcy cracks a bottle of wine as soon as she gets home and hauls Lucy out of her room to do a toast with her. And then do karaoke with her. She’s pretty sure Lucy’s big, smug grin is just her being happy for Darcy, but still. It’s nice to see her smile.

She sucks at karaoke, though. Doesn’t know any of the words.

 …

  When Jane turns up at the apartment, it’s Lucy who answers the door. Darcy’s in her room working very hard, thank you, on a presentation about the Euro crisis using ‘Call Me Maybe’ as a learning aid. So she can’t really be blamed if she doesn’t hear the first time Lucy knocks on her door. Or the second. Or the third.

When Darcy finally ventures forth on a quest for snackage, Jane and Lucy are both sitting in the living room, Jane holding forth about some science-y thing, complete with hand gestures, while Lucy looks fascinated and occasionally nods encouragingly. She’s either the best polite listener in the history of polite listeners, or she’s actually interested in this wormhole stuff.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were into astrophysics,” Darcy says, when Jane pauses for breath, and both Jane and Lucy turn to look at her with identical guilty expressions. Darcy can’t help but laugh. “Oh my god, you guys should see yourselves. You look like my mom’s dog when she shredded the cat’s catnip mouse. The cat loved it, though. She was trippin’ for hours.”

Now they’re both kind of looking blank. Jane shakes it off first. “I do actually need to talk to you, Darcy.”

“Hit me,” Darcy says, collapsing onto the couch beside her.

Jane doesn’t move, but her eyes dart in Lucy’s direction. “Do you want to go grab a coffee or something?”

“Ah,” Lucy says, looking from Jane to Darcy and back again. “I have plenty of studying to do. I’ll be in my room.” She pushes herself up from the armchair, smoothing down her skirt – a super cute A-line that Darcy would never wear but that totally works on somebody as tall and bony as Lucy. “Thank you, Dr. Foster, I found our conversation most…enlightening.”

“Oh, please, call me Jane,” Jane says, standing up herself and sticking out her right hand. Lucy blinks at it for half a second before taking it and giving it a very professional shake, with a brilliant smile. Darcy can’t help but notice that the height difference between them is hilarious. She always forgets how tiny Jane is. “Always a pleasure to meet young people with an actual interest in my field.” The look Jane gives Darcy is a little too fond to be a glare.

“Hey, I have an actual interest in your field,” Darcy argues. “I’m very interested in the easy science credits it bagged me.”

“ ‘Easy’ science credits?” Jane says, in mock disbelief, as Lucy heads down the hallway. “I seem to recall somebody saying she refused to die for six college credits…”

Lucy’s bedroom door shuts with a solid thunk, and Jane waits a couple of minutes before turning back to Darcy. Minutes? Probably seconds. Minutes are always longer than Darcy thinks. Or shorter, depending on the day and whether people are talking. “I know I only met her once, but I thought your roommate was…shorter. And less British.”

“Oh yeah. Melissa. She totally flaked on me while you and I were out playing X-Files in the desert,” Darcy says. “Lucy’s doing an exchange…thing. So what’s up?”

“Do you have something lined up for after graduation?” Jane asks.

“Depends. Do you still want to pay me in college credits?”

Jane rolls her eyes. “No. I actually have a budget now, thanks to S.H.I.E.L.D., but it’s been hell on wheels trying to get somebody cleared to come work for me. They want it to be all ‘need-to-know’. But they need to know!”

“What about Selvig?” Darcy asks. Her stomach chooses this unfortunate moment to remind her why she came out of her room in the first place, and she furiously thinks at it to be cool. She might have an actual job lined up if she plays her cards right, here. One where she can goof off for money and gorgeous men literally rain from the sky. No way she’s letting a little Oreo craving get between her and that.

Jane shakes her head. “There’s some mystery project the director’s apparently been courting him for. Even if he’d want to, he doesn’t have time to run around after me chasing storms.”

“Ooh, mystery project,” Darcy says. “That sounds prestigious. And expensive. D’you think he’s hiring?”

Jane gives her a flat look. “They won’t even tell me what it is. No way they’re letting you within a hundred feet of it.”

Darcy shrugs. “Hey, it was worth a shot. Just wanna know what my options are, in case I decide to play hardball.” She considers it a moment. Not so long ago, Darcy would’ve jumped – well, okay, not jumped, casually agreed to, nobody who’s built like Darcy does much jumping – at the opportunity. But not so long ago, Darcy had not had a business major for a roommate. Lucy’s taught her a thing or two about negotiating and knowing her worth. Pretty much all of which she’s throwing out the window right now, but hey, it’s the thought that counts. “How much can you pay me, anyway?”

Jane names a figure. Darcy chokes on her own spit.

“Do you need me to drop out and start now?” she asks, when she can breathe like a normal person again. “ ‘cause I can drop out and start now.”

Jane huffs a soft laugh. “Finish your degree. I’m sure I’ll burn through the last few S.H.I.E.L.D. lab techs who’re willing to put up with me, and the spot’ll be open for you to step into before you even take off the cap and gown.”

“How sure?” Darcy asks, because, well, she doesn’t want Lucy to have had to break her best job interview tips down into pieces of Tyra’s advice for nothing. “Do I get, like, something to sign? Anything in writing?”

Jane actually laughs this time. “Yes. That’s why I didn’t just call. Well, that and the possibility of wiretaps.” She reaches down by her feet for the brown canvas messenger bag Darcy hadn’t really paid much attention to. “There’s, uh, a formal offer…”

Her smile turns apologetic, and Darcy just has time to feel a wave of the ominouses build over her before Jane pulls out a stack of printer paper an inch and a half thick. “And, uh, a couple of non-disclosure agreements. Oh, and a background check. And another background check, except this one’s off the record, because it’s being done technically illegally by a defected Soviet spy.”

“You’re joking, right,” Darcy says.

Jane gives her a smile that’s half a wince, and a pen.

 …

 By the time Lucy pops back out of her room in search of dinner, Darcy’s wrist aches something fierce, to match the throb behind her eyes from all the tiny, tiny, extremely important print, and she’s pretty sure the index finger on her right hand is never going to be the same again. But none of that matters, because Darcy Lewis Has A Job.

“Right out of school!” she crows, shaking out her hand. “How about that, Mom? Oh, and, there’s science in poli-sci, so, like, it’s even using my major. Using half my major. Does that count?”

Lucy looks at her over the mug of tea she’s just poured herself. “For purposes of proving your parent wrong? Oh, absolutely.”

“What?” Darcy says, and then remembers Lucy’s life across the pond is a soap opera. “Oh, no, my mom just – she was worried. Poli-sci was my…third? Third major in two years. She really wanted me to make my mind up, or at least pick something that would guarantee I wouldn’t be moving back in with her after graduation. She’ll be so super proud.”

Lucy doesn’t say anything, just blows softly across the surface of her tea and kind of stares into the middle distance.

“You know what this calls for?” Darcy says, before the buzz can get any more killed. “Champagne. Lots of champagne.”

Lucy focuses back on her, quirking an eyebrow up with a hint of a smirk. “Job offer or not, you still can’t afford champagne.”

“Nope,” Darcy says, popping the ‘p’. “But I can afford fizzy wine, and I can’t tell the difference.”

 …

 “Gotta ask,” Darcy says, as they stand in the walk-in cooler, staring at the bottles of prosecco, “does your family really suck that much? Because I’m gonna feel like a real asshole for trying to make you phone your mom.”

Lucy doesn’t say anything for a long moment, just studying the glass bottles on the shelf in front of her. Maybe it’s the coat (it’s a nice coat, really thick and heavy, as Darcy learned when she had to pick it up every time it fell off the hooks by the door), or the scarf, or maybe Lucy’s just naturally cold-blooded, but she hasn’t shivered yet. Darcy, on the other hand, wore a spring jacket and is regretting it.

“I wouldn’t say, ‘suck’,” Lucy says, at last, slowly.

“No, you’d say, like, ‘bollocks’ or something,” Darcy says, stuffing her hands in her pockets. Lucy’s face unfreezes, and she darts a bright grin in Darcy’s direction, though there’s still something sad around her eyes.

“I like you, Darcy,” she says. “But unfortunately, not everything is so simple as you like to think.”

Darcy shrugs, without taking her hands out of her pockets. “I dunno. Sometimes people just make things complicated for themselves.”

They spend another quiet moment studying the fizzy wine, before Darcy shakes out her hands with a puff of breath. “Okay, do you actually have an opinion on what we drink, or are you just trying to avoid talking to me? Because if it’s the second one, I’m picking the cheapest bottle and getting out of here. I’m freezing.”

“Oh,” Lucy says, like she forgot they were standing in a refrigerator, and then reaches up and grabs a bottle of prosecco that is pretty clearly not the cheapest bottle on the shelf. “Here. I’ll treat.”

Darcy watches her suspiciously. “I thought you were broke.”

“Not so broke that I’ll drink that barely-alcoholic swill you call fizzy wine, thank you,” Lucy says primly, and Darcy can’t help but laugh.

“Thanks,” she says, once they’re through the checkout and back out on the sidewalk, Lucy pressing the bag holding their prosecco into her hands. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Lucy gives her a smile that’s just a little unsettling. “I should be thanking you, Darcy. You’ve done more for me than you know.”

Darcy squirms internally under the attention. “We’re roommates. We do roommate stuff. Nothing special.”

Lucy bobs her head back and forth, like she doesn’t agree but she won’t come right out and object. “You opened your home to me. You’ve shown me hospitality above and beyond what was required of you. I won’t forget it.”

Darcy shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “Well, don’t mention it. But if I’m ever in London and need a place to crash -”

Lucy’s smile is brilliant. “Oh, I expect that if you’re ever in London, you’ll look me up. I’ll take you out for fish and chips and we can tour the Tower.”

“Haunted murder prison. Sounds like a blast,” Darcy says. “You better take me on that giant Ferris wheel, too. I promise not to barf on anybody this time.”

Lucy blinks at her. “ ‘This time’?”

 …

 Exam season hits them both hard. Darcy spends a lot of time in the coffee shop, loading up on espressos in a desperate bid to keep herself awake after the string of all-nighters she’s pulled. Lucy practically moves into the library. Darcy doesn’t see her except in the apartment doorway, once, when she’s grabbing some books for class, and even then it’s only for long enough to say ‘hi’ and then ‘bye’ again.

Jane calls about a week and a half, maybe two weeks after Darcy signs the unbearable stack of documents. For one horrifying second, Darcy thinks the ex-Soviet spy turned up some dreadful, sordid thing in her family history and she’s not getting the job after all. But Jane doesn’t even mention the job. She barely even says hello. “Have you heard from Erik? I’ve been trying to get in touch, but he’s not answering his phone. Or his emails.”

“You did say he’s working on some top-secret classified mystery thing,” Darcy points out. “If I had to sign that many NDAs, I bet they’re taking no chances on him blabbing.”

“I know, it’s just – it’s not like him,” Jane says, and her worry’s a little bit contagious, even through the phone. “Wouldn’t he have warned somebody if he was going to have to go dark? Warned me?”

“Jane. C’mon,” Darcy says. “He’s a grown man. He can take care of himself.”

“Darcy,” Jane says, shortly. “You were there when he told us about his friend.”

“Yeah, but S.H.I.E.L.D. did that,” Darcy counters. “The people who hired him. Who vanishes their own employees?”

“People like S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Jane says grimly. “Let me know if you hear from him, all right?”

“Well, if he’s not talking to you, the chances of him friending me on Facebook or whatever are pretty low.”

“Darcy,” Jane sighs, “just say, ‘Yes, Jane’.”

“Yes, Jane,” Darcy parrots into the phone.

 …

 It’s been almost another week, almost a week since the last time she saw Lucy. Darcy’s holed up in her favourite campus coffeeshop, nursing her fourth – fifth? – latte of the afternoon, when the TV silently playing old episodes of Friends cuts to a news break.

It’s a short clip, repeating over and over. Some dude who looks more like an extremely glam pop star in a ridiculous costume than anything, and at first, with the sound off, that’s what Darcy thinks it is. Some dude trying to get in on the Gaga-Katy Perry weird costume trend. Looks like he might be singing to a big crowd in an outdoor arena. He’s really givin’ it, if the face he’s making is anything to go by. Probably a high E or something. The blue spotlight they’ve got on him is not flattering.

It’s about time the weird costume trend took off for dudes, if you ask Darcy. If she has to see another candy-shaped bra, she’s gonna throw up in her mouth.

She’s turning back to her textbooks when something makes her look back up. Some nagging feeling in the back of her head, like there’s something she should be remembering. She’s seen a tacky horned helmet like that before. Somewhere.

The dude in the costume doesn’t really look like he’s singing anymore, either. The camera zooms shakily towards his face, and Darcy’s forced to admit that most pop stars don’t glower at their audiences quite so much. It’s a crappy, glitchy feed, and the moment the guy makes eye contact with the camera, it washes out in a haze of electric blue. But it’s still long enough for Darcy to get an eyeful of pale, pretty, and pointy.

She’s seen a face like that somewhere, too. Recently.

“Oh,” Darcy mutters into her latte, and finally settles on, “shit.”

 …

 “Hi, this is Dr. Jane Foster -”

“Jane?” Darcy tries not to yell into the phone. “Listen, I need to know how far you are into getting this bridge thing working -”

“I’m unable to come to the phone right now,” Jane’s voice continues, blithely, “but leave your name and number at the tone and I’ll return your call as soon as I can.”

“Dammit, Jane, are you screening your calls? That’s a new level of paranoia, even for you,” Darcy says, over the beep. “Come on! It’s me! It’s Darcy! Pick up!”

Jane does not pick up. All Darcy gets is a dirty look from everyone within earshot. Including the librarian.

“Is there something I can help you find?” she asks, pointedly. Obviously she’s just trying to embarrass Darcy into shutting up and going away, because she looks a little startled when Darcy hangs up her phone and pockets it, stomping up to the desk like a woman on a mission. Which she is.

“Yeah, actually, there is,” Darcy says, leaning heavily against the counter and making aggressive eye contact with the librarian. “I need everything you’ve got on Norse mythology.”

The librarian looks startled for a moment, before her expression turns professional again. She turns to her computer, taps a few keys on her keyboard, glancing briefly up at Darcy. “Okay, so all our translations of the Eddas are checked out right now, but there are a few interpretive texts available, and some articles -”

“Don’t you have, like, a ‘Norse Mythology for Dummies’?” Darcy asks, and the librarian gives her a look that clearly says she, the librarian, knows Darcy is going to fail whatever class this is for.

“Try the education library,” she says.

 …

 The education library is full of children’s books. Darcy would be insulted, except that she finds the exact book Selvig had brought back to show her and Jane, wedged on a shelf between a fat picture book on Greek mythology and the gold spine of Egyptology. Darcy pauses a moment to let a flood of fond memories pass over her – hey, any book that was shiny gold and had a big plastic gem stuck in the front cover was the coolest ever when you were, like, twelve – before pulling out the book on Norse mythology and finding herself a table. Thankfully, the furniture is all scaled for adult-sized people.

Darcy slams the book open, flipping past the sections on Yggdrasil and the nine realms, pausing briefly on the pages about Thor, before she finally finds what she was looking for. The illustration’s…weasellier-looking than she remembers, the face way pointier, but that is definitely, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the helmet she’d just seen on TV.

Darcy shakes her head, turning her attention to the text that goes with the image. The book’s laid out more like an encyclopedia than a storybook, which is good, because right now Darcy just needs as much information as possible in as little time as possible.

She’s just about finished reading the section when her phone rings. It’s Jane, sounding almost frantic. “Darcy! What’s going on, are you okay?”

“What? Yeah, I’m fine,” Darcy says, and Jane lets out a sigh that’s one part relief, two parts frustration.

“Then what was the panicky phone message about?”

“Panicky? On what planet?”

“Darcy, you were already talking when the recording started, and you just kept yelling at me to pick up. I thought you were being abducted.”

Darcy thinks back to the phone call, and is forced to admit Jane has a point. “I’m okay,” she says. “Aside from the part where I might be sharing an apartment with a homicidal Norse god.”

Jane’s end of the line goes dead silent.

“Jane?” Darcy asks.

“No,” Jane says, and then, like she’s warming up, “No, the bridge still isn’t working, they couldn’t -”

“Jane,” Darcy repeats, interrupting before Jane can really get going. “Checked the news lately?”

She can almost hear Jane deflate through the phone.

“Why wouldn’t he have contacted me?” she says, in this terrible small voice that Darcy feels a wash of secondhand embarrassment just listening to. “If he could get through, why not -”

“Jane,” Darcy says, a third time. “Focus.”

Jane seems to remember she has an audience. She clears her throat, dropping the pitch of her voice. Darcy can picture her, easily, shutting her eyes and shaking her head as she pulls herself together. “What do you mean, sharing an apartment?”

“I mean, how much did you tell Lucy about generating Einstein-Rosen bridges?” Darcy says. “Also, how loud were we talking about Selvig’s big break?”

“Not – I mostly kept to the theory, you know I signed a few non-disclosures of my own – Darcy, what -”

“I’m just asking,” Darcy says, drumming her fingers against the little weaselly illustration. “Because from what I’ve been reading, people tend to just, like, tell Loki stuff if he asks while he’s shapeshifted into a woman.”

There’s another, longer pause.

“No,” Jane says, again.

Darcy nods, before remembering Jane can’t see her. “Kinda think so. I know I should’ve been worried when she turned up so conveniently after Melissa flaked, but I just thought she was gonna skin me and wear my face over her face or something like that.”

Jane pauses again before she speaks, but it doesn’t somehow sound so heavy. “Did I know how graphic your imagination was when I first hired you?”

“Only applicant, remember?” Darcy says. “Look, it all lines up. The family drama, the my brother spent some time here and he believes it did him a world of good, the accent, the way she keeps just disappearing at really weird times for hours or days at a time – I don’t know if I’ve ever actually seen her in a classroom or with a textbook – and she doesn’t know anything about music. Or get cold like a normal person, and there’s something here about…frost giants? Also, one of his nicknames is ‘Sky-Walker’, and apparently, in like Norwegian, that ‘oh’ in his name should be an ‘oo’ -”

“Darcy,” Jane says, firmly. “Breathe.”

“I am totally breathing,” Darcy protests. “Look, after you offered me the job, she bought us a bottle of sparkling wine and thanked me really cryptically and I basically haven’t seen her since. And in that time, Selvig’s dropped off the map, and a supervillain calling himself Loki who could be her fraternal twin pops up and starts chewing German scenery in a helmet that looks exactly like the one in this book.” Darcy sits back in her chair, bouncing off the back. “Also, I told her about this professor who was a total pain in my ass, and like two weeks later he was on leave for ‘undisclosed reasons’ and he still hasn’t come back.”

“This…could all be a coincidence,” Jane says, lamely.

“Oh yeah. Same way that weird homeless guy you kept hitting with your car showing up inside that storm was all a coincidence,” Darcy says. “Oh, my god. I’ve been watching ANTM highlights with a supervillain.”

“Okay, stay calm,” Jane says, in a voice that does absolutely nothing to make Darcy feel any more calm. “Does she know you know?”

“Are you kidding? I didn’t even put it together until, like, twenty minutes ago. God! I ate her chocolate-chip cookies!”

“Is she with you? Do you think you’re in any immediate danger?” Jane asks, being infuriatingly reasonable for somebody who was helpless with heartbreak not five minutes ago.

“No,” Darcy admits. “I don’t think so. Oh, shit!”

“What?” Jane gasps.

Darcy groans. “Left my taser at the apartment.”

 …

 Darcy stays late at the coffee shop, reluctant to go back to the apartment. Sure, she hasn’t seen Lucy in weeks and has no reason to think that’s going to suddenly change. And sure, nothing she’s read makes it sound like the god who might be her roommate can read minds. There’s no way, even if she did run into Lucy, that Lucy would be able to tell that Darcy knows.

Except for the part where she’s the literal god (goddess?) of lies and Darcy’s a mediocre actress at best. Yep. No way she’s gonna notice anything’s different. Or anything.

Fuck. Darcy is so, so screwed.

When the coffee shop closes and kicks her out, Darcy migrates to the library. When the library closes and kicks her out, Darcy complains very loudly that they aren’t staying open 24/7 for exam season. Her one-woman protest has absolutely no effect whatsoever.

Darcy stands on the sidewalk outside the library doors, shivering in the chilly night air, and wonders if one of her friends would let her crash at their place overnight. She considers it for a minute before realizing that just figuring out how to ask would probably end up making things even more complicated than they already are.

Finally, Darcy decides she’s cold enough, tired enough, and grumpy enough to take her chances heading back to the apartment. So what if Lucy’s there? So is her taser.

“Tased a Norse god once,” Darcy mutters, under her breath, as she slouches determinedly towards the bus depot, hoping they haven’t stopped running for the night as well. “Can do it again.”

By the time she gets back to the apartment, Darcy’s so wound up that she jumps involuntarily when she opens the door. But there’s nothing to freak out about. Lucy’s coat isn’t hanging on the hooks by the door, which is a sure sign that she’s still out. Darcy wonders, for half a second, where she is if the library’s closed, and then feels incredibly stupid.

“Supervillainy. Right,” she says, into the empty apartment, tossing her coat in the general direction of the hooks. She double-checks the lock on the apartment door, brushes her teeth and washes her face, and then very carefully locks herself in her bedroom. After a moment’s consideration, she wedges her deskchair under the handle, too.

It takes Darcy a very long time to fall asleep.

 …

 She’s woken at some ungodly hour by a crash that has her leaping up out of bed, half-convinced somebody’s trying to break down her door. It takes Darcy a moment to boot her brain up out of sleep mode and realise it was just the chair falling over.

 …

 It takes another panicked phone call from Jane before Darcy remembers she was supposed to check in when she got home last night. She only just manages to talk Jane down from calling in S.H.I.E.L.D., which might seem a little crazy at first blush, but makes a lot of sense if you think about it. Yeah, okay, so maybe Darcy’s been living with the Big Bad of the week, but she doesn’t actually know that for sure, and it’s not like she has any useful information about any nefarious plans, and said Big Bad hasn’t even been around lately, and – look, it just doesn’t seem like a good idea. Darcy’s keeping an eye on the news, and it looks like they’ve got it under control. They don’t need Jane and Darcy butting in. They’re handling it.

Plus, she really, really doesn’t want her iPod confiscated again.

Darcy’s been walking on eggshells all day, jumping at every little noise, before she finally decides she’s done. She’s over it. Either her roommate is a homicidal extraterrestrial, or she isn’t. Either she’s going to totally murder Darcy and wear her skin like a – okay, she’s overusing that one. Either she’s going to totally murder Darcy and use her skull as a drinking horn or whatever, or she isn’t. And either way, there’s not a whole lot Darcy can do about it. So worrying about it like this is pointless.

What would be less pointless would be finding out 1) whether Lucy really is secretly an evil alien god, and 2) if she is, what to do about it.

 …

 To: lucy

From: darcy

house rule #3: if ur a supervillian u have 2 tell me.

 Read at 5:47 PM

 …

 It isn’t even a full day later that the Chitauri attack New York.

 …

 Darcy gets home from the library late, on purpose, though she doesn’t really expect to find Lucy there after the day’s top news stories. The apartment’s dark when she swings the door open, and gets darker when she slams the door behind her, blocking out the light from the hall.

Darcy slouches into the kitchen without turning on a light, throwing open the fridge instead. After staring blankly into its cold white glow for what feels like half an hour but is most likely less than five minutes, and still not having the secrets of the universe or of what she wants to eat revealed unto her, she shuts the door again and turns toward the hall and her bedroom.

“Darcy.”

Darcy is not too ashamed to admit that she screams like a little girl. She jumps backwards, fumbling for her taser, at the sound of a voice from the pitch-dark mouth of the hall.

The hall light blooms to life, revealing Lucy standing by the lightswitch. Under the circumstances, this is not actually a reassuring sight.

“Holy shit, you scared the pee out of me,” Darcy gasps, and Lucy’s eyes crinkle up at the corners in an apologetic smile. “Don’t lurk dramatically in the shadows like that, you’re gonna give somebody a heart attack.”

“I was waiting for you,” Lucy says, which is also not very reassuring, under the circumstances. Darcy’s questing fingers find her taser tucked into the pocket of her jacket, and close over it. “I wanted to talk.”

“You could’ve just texted me back,” Darcy points out.

“In person,” Lucy says.

“Great,” Darcy’s traitor mouth says. “Great, nothing about that sounds unnecessarily ominous, or anything.”

Lucy huffs a soft laugh, turning her face away from Darcy for a moment. Darcy can’t read her expression through the shadows the hall light casts over her eyes and the curtain of dark hair that falls in front of her face.

“I have the feeling,” she says, her eyes flicking in Darcy’s direction, bright even in shadow, “that you suspect I’m keeping something from you.”

“What?” Darcy laughs, nervously. “Why would you think that?”

“Possibly the fact that you’re right.” Lucy’s voice is wry, her mouth twisted in a smile, but all Darcy can see in her eyes is fear. “Darcy…I’ve lied to you.”

So this is happening. Darcy makes herself breathe at a normal human person rate. All things considered, she feels like she’s doing pretty good keeping her cool here. Like, sure, okay, she was totally chill around Thor, but she also never really got the vibe that he might stab her if she looked at him funny. And, as far as Darcy knows, he never actually has stabbed anybody for looking at him funny. So there’s that.

Lucy takes a deep breath, meeting Darcy’s eyes with an expression half steely resolve, half unspoken regret. “I’m not really a business student.”

“Yeah,” Darcy says, her heart hammering in her throat, fingers curling tighter around the reassuring shape of the taser in her pocket. “I know.”

Lucy’s head snaps up, eyes going wide. “You know? But – I was so careful -”

Darcy makes a face. “Were you, though?”

Lucy – Loki? - looks away again, with a soft huff that’s almost a laugh. “No. I suppose I wasn’t.” There’s that strange wistfulness in her voice again as she says, “I did everything – everything – to try to impress my father, became everything he wanted, and it was never enough. I suppose…deep down, I wanted someone to see through the lie. To know. And not to care. Who – and what – I truly am.”

She turns back to Darcy, her smile wide and white and, for once, purely and genuinely happy.

“I’m a thespian,” she says.

Darcy blinks at her.

“Sorry, run that one by me again,” she says, sticking her pinkie into her ear and giving it a good wiggle.

Lucy’s still grinning ear to ear. “I’ve changed my major. You were right, Darcy. ‘To thine own self be true’. I’ve spent my life living for other people, but I have to live with the choices I make. It’s time I did something for myself.”

“So you’re…going into theatre,” Darcy says, slowly, still trying to catch up.

“Have gone into theatre,” Lucy says. “I changed my major after that night, when we talked. I’m in theatre arts now. I’m going to be an actress.”

“I,” Darcy says, and realizes that, for the first time in a very long time, she, Darcy Lewis, is at a loss for words. “Uh.”

Lucy’s expression doesn’t really change, but her jaw sets in trembling defiance. “You think I’m foolish.”

“What? No, I was just expecting something a little more mythological.”

Lucy frowns at her, Darcy’s perceived rejection apparently forgotten in confusion. “Sorry?”

“Nothing. Forget I said that.” Darcy blinks a few more times, and then manages, “Congratulations, though. You’re the most dramatic person I know, it’s a perfect fit.”

“Well, that’s still a more positive response than my father had when he learned of my intentions to drop business school,” Lucy says, her eyes shining, but some genuine humour in the quirk of her mouth. “Thank you. I don’t know if I’d’ve found the courage without you. I wanted you to be the first to know.”

“Wow,” Darcy says, suddenly feeling extremely guilty about suspecting her of being an alien supervillain. “Uh, thanks.”

Lucy’s smile falters, and she looks down at her feet. “Now, though, I suppose I shall have to break the news to my family. With the semester over, at least they can’t threaten to cut me off again.”

“Well,” Darcy manages, mentally shoving her thoughts off the rail they’d been on and onto a parallel set of tracks. “You already seem happier. If your family really cares about you, they’ll see that and be happy for you too.”

“My theatre final is a one-act stageplay,” Lucy says. “It’s tomorrow night at the campus theatre. I’d like for you to come.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Darcy says.

  …

 The play is…all right. As plays go. It’s all about adults having Serious Conversations, which is so not Darcy’s scene. Give her elaborate costumes and musical numbers any day.

Lucy’s good, though. Especially compared to some of the other actors on the stage. She has a real talent, able to go from weepy to icy on a dime.

Darcy tells her as much after the curtain closes, when she brings a bundle of grocery-store chrysanthemums up to the stage in congratulations. Lucy’s smile practically glows. She’s totally in her element, and Darcy kind of feels like anybody’d be stupid to try to keep her away from the stage.

She goes with Lucy to the airport, when Lucy leaves a few days later. It’s kind of bittersweet, and Darcy can’t totally deny getting a little misty as they swap contact details outside of the lineup for international security.

“You better mail me a London Bridge keychain,” Darcy says, and Lucy laughs.

“Done.” She looks over towards the line winding slowly through the security checkpoint, then glances at the time on her phone, before turning back to Darcy. “Darcy, I need to thank you again.” She musters up a watery smile. “I know I was something of a handful. But you took me as I came, tried to make me feel welcome in an unfamiliar place, drew me out of myself, treated me as a friend… I won’t forget that. I won’t forget you.”

“Hey, I’m not going to forget you either,” Darcy says, with 100% unpasteurized honesty. “You definitely made my last semester interesting.” She pauses to give it 0.2 seconds of thought, and then decides, yeah. “It was fun.”

Lucy’s smile grows wider, more confident. “ ‘Interesting’ is certainly the word. But…yes. It was fun.”

She casts one more glance over at the security lineup, before she says, “You know, you’ll probably laugh. But for a short while there, I was afraid that you might be involved in the attack on New York.”

Darcy manages not to choke on her own spit, but it’s a near miss. “Say what?”

Lucy shrugs. “You’d always make these cryptic comments about aliens and how terribly the government treated you and whatnot, and then hastily change the subject if I pressed you. And you and your Dr. Foster were both so secretive about her work, but I knew it was in regards to wormholes to other galaxies – and that your Dr. Foster apparently regularly broke the law and had little to no regard for human life, if the stories about the van were anything to go by. What was I meant to think when I didn’t see you for a week and then the news was suddenly full of reports of a wormhole opened in New York to let an alien invasion force through?”

Darcy considers this for a moment.

“Also,” Lucy adds, “you put coffee in your cocoa puffs, which is not the act of a sane and rational human being.”

“Okay, that was one time,” Darcy says.

Lucy does that extremely irritating eyebrow thing that means she doesn’t believe that for a minute.

Darcy decides to let it slide. “You actually thought I helped organize an alien invasion? I can’t even organize my iTunes library.”

Lucy shrugs. “Every good mad scientist needs an Igor.”

Darcy shoves her, hard, in the arm, and Lucy bursts into laughter.

They push back and forth for a bit before Lucy looks at her phone again, and grimaces. “I’ve only got an hour. I should go.”

“Right,” Darcy says. “Well, if I’m ever in London…”

Lucy nods. “If you’re ever in London.”

Darcy’s not sure who starts it. All she knows is that all of a sudden she and Lucy are hugging, her face kind of awkwardly mashed against Lucy’s chest. Good grief, she’s tall.

The hug only lasts a second or two, and then Lucy is off, dragging her rolling carry-on behind her, glancing back only once to wave goodbye.

Darcy flashes her the peace sign, and watches her as she goes through a few turns of the slow-moving security line.

Then she feels like it’s getting kind of weird, and wanders off to find a Starbucks.

 …

 …

 some time later

 “Darcy, you don’t – I can’t afford for you to have your own intern! I can barely afford you!”

“It’s okay,” Darcy says, for like the fourteen millionth time. “Ian’s working for experience. Besides, he’s a friend. Friend of a friend.”

Jane sighs, shaking her head.

“So long as I don’t have to pay him,” she says. “And so long as he’s not – I don’t know, secretly a spy or a supervillain in disguise trying to steal or sabotage my research.”

Darcy snorts.

“Please,” she says. “If one of my friends was secretly a supervillain, I would definitely know.”

[orderofhunter]

Seblaine and Hunter- You Know The Penalty If You Fail/Feb 4, 2020

Para: You Know The Penalty If You Fail

Rating: PG.

Pairing: Seblaine @smythesm​, @andersoncharm​ and Hunter Clarington. @orderofhunter��

When: Tuesday, February 4, 2020

Location: Seb’s Apartment.

Notes: Hunter brings warnings that maybe Blaine ought to be more careful when using magic with Sebastian.

Warnings: Things are changing. Features a bittersweet ending.

Hunter:

It was normal for Hunter to get called in for emergencies at The Headquarters. He had proven himself to be efficient and thorough in his research and on his hunts and was being set up to follow in his father’s footsteps to lead The Order. Hunter had traveled the world, hunting rogue witches who sacrificed children deep in forests, researching the various creatures that wicked witches morphed into, and making sure the correct affiliates came through if it wasn’t a witch or a cryptid (Aliens=FBI and Ghosts= fucking Zachary BAGELBITES...yuck. Fucking Ghosts were drama.)

So, it wasn’t shocking when Hunter was sent in to figure out the truth behind Facebook posts about phantom  footsteps in an empty apartment in Arkansas or snap chat videos of flying women jumping through trees in England. The invention of Twitter and Facebook and hoax videos on YouTube was a turbulent time for The Order. Hunter could hardly remember, as he was so young when the internet became a major problem for them but, his parents had to work overtime tracking down the creators of videos featuring little goblins and objects being thrown around rooms, only to hit dead ends filled with bored college kids and middle aged dudes looking for attention. Sometimes, though, the videos or posts would lead to rogue witches or possessions or abductions. The Order had created a department to keep track of the goings on of social media and kept connections with the appropriate affiliates to keep all things supernatural, well, in order. This department had decided that it was best to send the younger hunters in, seeing as they knew the world of the internet best, and who better than actual troll Hunter Clarington? He had a knack for figuring out hoaxes faster than anybody else at the order, and could distinguish whether a house was haunted or inhabited by a crone cooking up cancerous spells in no time.

So, on this random day when we was brought in for a tweet that was gaining speed online, he was expecting the usual. Go in to some random location, do some research, extinguish the problem or call in another expert and wash his hands of it, file a report, go home. When he sat down with the head of the social media department, and was shown the tweets, his stomach turned. It was Paris. It was a blurry photo of the Eiffel Tower, a figure (Or figures?) perched at the top. The tweet, in French, questioned if it was a ghost and it was picking up speed online. Hunter could see that it was posted at 3AM on Christmas morning.

Hunter kept his eyes trained on the big screen behind his superiors head, the photo blown up and accentuated. He could see two figures clinging together.  He swallowed thickly but kept his eyes trained ahead of him, willed his heart to chill out and his pulse not to quicken (he was trained to do this after all). Sebastian had told him that Blaine had ‘popped’ in and visited him in the early hours of Christmas Morning. He had also told him that his lovely boyfriend took him to the top of the famous monument around 3.  Hunter couldn’t let anybody see him sweat or let on that he might already know something. He accepted the mission and was given his plane tickets for that very night. He had to travel with the normies in order to blend and usually his skin would itch for use of the private jet but he was too stressed out to worry about being flashy and frivolous. Hunter just wanted to get there and get this done.

Hunter requested that Tony come with for training purposes, the request was approved, and the two of them were off to Paris that evening.  It was all business on this trip. He explained that he thought Blaine was the very witch in the post and Tony understood the seriousness of the implication.

“It’s an old city, Hunter. If we find out that it was Blaine and not a Matagot, which it could be...we can pin it on a ghost.”

Hunter made a mental note to remind Tony that Matagot’s were native to Southern France but he didn’t want to ruin the moment, so he nodded and clenched his jaw. Because she was still right, of course, but  he had never botched an expedition before. He’d never had a reason to. Hunter couldn’t let Sebastian or Blaine get hurt. Tony understood that and that’s exactly what they did. All of the evidence pointed to witches hanging out on top of the Eiffel tower. Hunter could scream. It was them, there was no way it wasn’t. Tony helped him pin it on a haunting she had found in the area surrounding the Eiffel Tower and Hunter made the original poster delete the tweet with a check and a flash of his sharp jawline.

Hunter took a day to decompress before he went into The Headquarters and explained it all away. He explained that he had handed the case over and had the posts scrubbed from the internet (even got a hold of the pesky podcast that had covered it and requested the episode play elevator music over that specific part). He texted Sebastian and told him the three of them were going to talk, there was no playing around with this shit.

He knocked once on Sebastian’s front door before letting himself in. Of course, Blaine was already there and the two of them were sitting closely on the couch, clutching hands.

“Yeah, you should be fucking nervous,” Hunter thought to himself. He took a deep breath and walked around to stand in front of the two men.

“ I guess I should start off by saying that it’s all figured out. It’s covered up. You both owe Tony a huge thank you. She pinned it on a local haunting.” Hunter ran a hand through his hair before resting his hands on his hips. Sebastian was staring at the floor and Blaine’s eyes were the size of moons, he was squeezing the other man’s hand so hard it was turning red.

“Jesus Bas, you could look at me. You’re not in trouble. I just need you guys to know how serious this is. God, don’t make me feel like I’m your fucking dad.” He crouched down in front of them, resting gently on the coffee table. “I just can’t have this happen again, okay? Blaine, you know what they’d do to him. You know they’d have your head and they’d send me to get it.”

Sebastian:

Blaine and Sebastian were stressed and Seb was doing anything and everything to try and alleviate the heavy feeling sitting on their shoulders. He had played Broadway music in the car,tried cooking a couple of times, cleaned up the dishes when he gave up and B would whip up an amazing meal, watched Ever After multiple times and cuddled on the couch and watched Captain America and let Ras go to LeFey and  took Blaine to a damn Super Bowl party.  

It was at the Snowed In and Blaine had nonchalantly mentioned that maybe they could stop by. “We can go. You should watch the game.  I know you don’t care about these teams but, it might be nice to be out around people.” Sebastian couldn’t believe he said that last phrase, ew. He didn’t really care about football but he cared about snacks and JLo  and his boyfriend.

There were wings and cheese dip and beer and Blaine got a little macho and bro’d out over a bad play here and there and Sebastian liked what he saw. He was a little tipsy and liked the swell of Blaine’s biceps as he clutched his beer, his other hand extended towards the big screen over a fumble or some shit. They laughed and danced together towards the back of the room when Jlo and Shakira came on. What was better than cheap beer and terrible food and beautiful pop divas? Sebastian hadn’t felt this free from thought in a few days and he could tell B felt better, too. The two of them stumbled to their Lyft and fell asleep giggling with full bellies and tired bodies.

Seb played the scene of them doing a lazy tango together surrounded by Chiefs and 49ers jerseys in the crowded cafe. He tried to focus on positive things because Hunter would be there any minute and who knew what new information that would bring. Blaine held on tightly to his hand and he squeezed back, the two of them sitting silently with Ras sleeping on the bed, a calming spell from Blaine so that the pup wouldn’t fret.

Hunter came into the room and started ranting immediately. Sebastian felt like a teenager again, felt like his dad had sat him down to yell about his Lacrosse plays or his sneaking out. It triggered something inside  of his brain, the shame of letting somebody down along with the acidic burn to want to yell back. But, what was there to say? They had tried so hard and still fucked up. They were in the wrong and Hunter was right. He felt like puking when he said that he could be harmed, what would they do to him? To B?

“We’re sorry.” was all he could manage. Seb squeezed Blaine’s hand again and braved a look at his face. He could tell that B was close to tears. He knew that the other man had been dreading this day.

Blaine:

Blaine had spent the last five days living his life on the cliffs edge. One second he’s fine, he’s dealing and coping with the fact that they’d more than likely been seen, and the next he’s panicking and on the verge of closing himself off and hiding in his turtle shell terrified to come out. Sebastian had been amazing throughout all of his anxieties. Let him watch his favorite movies, let him blush a little over Steve Rogers, let him take Ras to visit LeFay when Blaine couldn’t mope around Sebastian’s apartment to keep him a little calmer, Ras always had that effect on him. Kissed him sweetly when Blaine got lost in his own head. Seb had even taken him to a Super Bowl party on Sunday. And while Blaine may not have been invested in the teams playing (He much preferred college football) he still had a pretty good time and even got fired up about a shoddy play or two. He tried to keep the memory of Sebastian pulling him so close around the waist with one arm and the other waving a chicken wing around while tipsily dancing and singing along with JLo in his head as he waited for Hunter to show up.

He knew that someone out there had probably seen them and then posted something about it on some sort of social media platform. The thought irked him and made his stomach flip so hard. It’s not that Blaine didn’t pay attention to all of that, it’s just that social media had never really been his forte, sure, he posted things here or there, but his pages all had to be glamoured anyway and he only really cared to check on on very few people. Besides, hunting was the job of the Hunters. Sitting tight, keeping your head down and staying hidden, never helping anyone was a Witch’s job. Or so he’d been taught and it was all exhausting. He hardly managed to pay attention to what he was taught in his former classes and now in his “Graduate classes” with his father. He’d never wanted any of this in the first place. He didn’t want to be headmaster of LeFay, he didn’t want to hide away in that oppressive school.  He’d always just wanted to do what his mother did or something similar. Heal people whether with small bits of magic or music. To voice it out loud to his father got him the same answer- Your mother had to do the same thing you’re doing in order to do what she did. And look what happened when she helped the wrong person.- Tony was not the wrong person, she was wonderful. But, it was neither here nor there to tell his father anything.

And his people had betrayed him anyway. Here he was spending every waking hour keeping the the one thing that made him more happy than anything else in the world a damn secret. And he was never ever allowed to share it. He couldn’t even allow himself to think of anything more than a few weeks in advance because what the hell was he going to do in a year or two when they sent him away to England to learn even more? Leave Sebastian behind? Run away? He swallowed hard thinking about it, willing himself not to fucking fall apart and gave Sebastian’s hand another squeeze just to show that his boyfriend was real and sitting here with him. Which should have made him feel better but  just reminded him how fucking bad he’d fucked up by not thinking more clearly when he took Seb to the Eiffel Tower and got wrapped up in the perfect moment. How could he spend so much time carefully glamouring every other part of his life but forget about it when it mattered the most? He blinked back a wash of angry tears and took a steadying breath. Anger because why didn’t they deserve perfect moments like everyone else? Why couldn’t they just be in love? And tears because he fucking knew better.

He was so lucky to have people like Tony and Hunter in his life. Thankful that they gave a fuck about him and especially about Seb. He knew this was just a warning and that he needed to think clearer and be even more careful. He knew it was going to be okay. For now at least. His father seemed to know nothing about it which meant that everything was more or less fine. If they were actually found out Willem ‘Will’ Anderson would be one of the first to know, he’d be the one of the ones that would have to write up a report and send for a member of the order to bring the witch in question in. None of that had happened though, thankfully.

His eyes flickered wide and bright up to Hunter as the other man let himself in looking like he’d stepped out of a Versace ad, jawline sharp enough to cut, hair perfectly in place, grey suit tailored just so. Impeccable and smarmy even though he’d been traveling on a plane. He watched as Hunter made his way over and crouched down in front of them like someones very stylish dad giving his son a talk about why we don’t have boys in our rooms alone at night. Blaine bit the inside of his cheek, as he listened. Nodding miserably about how he owed Tony. His fingers tight in Seb’s. He knew all of this. He’d been kicking his own ass about it for five days now.

He finally let his eyes settle on Hunter’s, silently asking him not to delve too far into what they might do to him or Sebastian because he knew. He knew damn well that he’d either be taken away and locked up so he’d never see Seb again or that they’d have him on a pyre and use his magical ashed bones as a cautionary tale. He knew they’d steal away Seb’s best memories of him  and because they were Fated, soul mates by magical design that it might not work and it might send his very human boyfriend, his reason to smile into madness. Sebastian didn’t need to hear all of that right now. He knew just about enough as it was. Sebastian’s little voice the we’re sorry shook him out of his thoughts and prompted him to speak.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Seb.” He loosened his grip in favor of linking their fingers together and turned to his boyfriend, his voice thick. “It’s my fault and I’m the one that’s sorry. I’m sorry to you for putting you at risk. I was so caught up in our moment that I didn’t- I couldn't think about anything else.” He turned his gaze to Hunter and shook his head. “I’m sorry that you and Tony had to go through all of this- trouble just because of my negligence.” He bit his lip and swallowed. “What can I do to fix this? And don’t you tell me nothing because I know I messed up. And I know that I need to do something, anything to make it up to you. To make you understand that I would never, consciously, put Seb in danger. This- This wasn’t meant to happen and gods, I’m sorry.” His voice cracked slightly on that last note prompting a whine from a very magically quiet Ras in the bedroom and a rub against his knee from a Freya that seemed to appear out of nowhere.  A Freya that had jumped up onto the table and was fixing Hunter with a clear look of hey he gets it. Not threatening per se, more trust me he’s beating himself up enough.

Hunter:

Hunter knew that Sebastian and Blaine were stressed and upset. The trained side of his brain, the one that executed missions and studied until his eyes crossed, knew that they needed to feel this way. That they needed to realize the weight of their actions, let the seriousness of the situation seep into their skin. The other side of his brain, the side that was Sebastian’s best friend, wanted to wipe the slate clean and hug his friends and assure them he would always protect them. Because he would, what would life be like without Bas’s scowl whenever Hunter made a bad joke? Without his long legs and love for dogs?  Without Blaine’s snacks and his open arms for Tony?

Hunter recognized the look on Blaine’s face. He didn’t want him to mention what could happen to Sebastian. He gave a curt nod of his chin in response. “I don’t think that there’s anything you can do now. It’s been fixed. I handed the case over to the ghost boys. Maybe they’ll film an episode about the location Tony found.” Hunter shrugged and reached forward to pat Blaine’s knee and then re thought it. He couldn’t give in yet, all he wanted to do was squeeze in between them on the couch and loosen his Gucci tie. “Doesn’t mean that this isn’t serious but, I think you understand that. Just don’t do this shit again, okay? This fucking sucked.”

Hunter heard the soft paws of an animal land. He looked up to see a white fluff of fur with remarkable eyes. The dagger strapped to his side thrummed with energy, and not just from Blaine. This was a familiar. He could sense the message, lay off the boy.  “I’m just doing my job, ma’am.” Hunter rolled his eyes, “She’s intense,Anderson.”  He cleared his throat after a few beats, and looked at both of the men. “I want to move past this. I just want you guys to promise to be more responsible. Seb...what would I do if you got hurt? What would Sabine do? Blaine, just think of your dad and Tony next time you want to play Fabio.”

Sebastian:

Sebastian hated when Hunter got serious like this. Not because it was annoying, even if he pretended it was in the future, but because letting down your best friend was a different type of low. Seeing the little wrinkle in between Hunter’s eyebrows always signaled sadness or stress, and there it sat, judging him. “We promise, okay? Call it a moment of weakness.” Sebastian let go of Blaine’s hand in favor of wrapping his arm around the other man’s waist. He squeezed his hip.

He bit his bottom lip and nodded when Hunter mentioned himself and his mother. He didn’t want to entertain the thought of breaking his mother’s heart like that and deep, deep down he hated upsetting his best friend. “I got it. I think B understands, too.”  He looked at Blaine and read his watery, gold eyes. Seb knew that he felt the seriousness to his core and regretted  potentially putting Sebastian in harm’s way. “So, can we just move on now?”

Blaine:

Blaine gave Freya a little smile of thanks, knowing that she appreciated Hunter calling her ma’am more than she’d ever let Blaine know. She didn’t need to be so worried around Hunter but he appreciated her protection all the same. “Yeah, she really is. I mean, she’s very old and has been through a lot. Or so she likes to remind me often.” He attempted to joke but it fell flat and his laugh felt forced. Which was ridiculous because this was Hunter. They were friends. They’d worked rather hard to get to this point too. And now Tony was brought up and all he could think about was his mom and how if Tony were upset with him it might mean his mother would be too. He sighed, resigning to the fact that he felt miserable and that it was going to take a long time for him to let this subside.

Not because he wanted to dwell on it, but because he needed to let this sting for a little bit. Their lives depended on it. He needed to remember that it wasn’t just about Sebastian but also about Hunter and Tony and their jobs and how much they cared for him and Sebastian and about Sabine. He could just picture Sabine’s pretty face full of sorrow over losing her only son to some unseen madness. He also needed to remember that no matter how strained their relationship was that he was all his father had left and that he ought to think of that more often too.

He nodded to Hunter, his face heating up at the mention of him trying to be Fabio. “I wasn’t- no, that’s not what I was trying to do…” He bit his lip, trailing off. Feeling a little embarrassed over his display of romance and showing Seb that Paris could still be romantic even if you were raised there. He had to remind himself that Sebastian had loved it. He had been filled with wonder and looked like he was falling in love with his city again. So maybe it was worth it after all. But, he only felt comfortable thinking that now knowing that they were all safe. Hunter and Tony were okay and had managed. Nobody had seen him or Seb. They were okay. And they would be okay for now. He knew it was going to sit with him but, he needed to move on or it would eat him up and make him wonder why he was doing this. Why was he insistent on staying when everything was screaming at him to walk away and the other man be. But, how could he? It would break his heart in two. And he knew it would do the same to Sebastian. He didn’t really feel like he could exist without him any longer. And after what he went through with losing his mother he wouldn’t be able to walk away. And really, call him dramatic but, he’d rather die than leave. He knew Sebastian knew he had a choice too. He just chose Blaine. Their little red string was stronger than ever and he’d be damned if he snipped it on his own. He just also needed to remember how high the stakes were now and always.

He gave another nod and set his jaw. “I can promise you that it won’t ever happen again. We will never be seen and my guard will never be down in public again.” He reached his free hand out and gave Hunter’s a firm shake and made a promise to send Tony a long message later. (She was in Ohio with her parents for the week.) He allowed Sebastian to pull him closer, comforting him, he could feel the heat of his hand radiating to his hip. He let himself feel it for a moment, the closeness and the energy of his boyfriend’s love before clearing his throat. “Seb’s right. We should move on but, we shouldn’t forget. I keep my word and I stand by what I said.” He nodded and allowed a small genuine smile grace his face. “Why don’t I make us dinner? We could relax and maybe watch a movie? I’m sure you have clothing here somewhere, Hunter.”

Hunter:

Hunter stood up from the coffee table and clasped his hands together. He was satisfied that this was all over and resolved and that the two of them seemed genuinely sorry. Hunter stretched out his legs and shook them before he stretched his arms up to the ceiling. “Oh, I’ll borrow some of Bas’s stuff. I always do!” He didn’t wait for Sebastian to offer, he just showed himself to the bedroom, kicked off his shiny loafers, and found an old Dalton Warblers tee shirt (he had one,too but this one said SMYTHE on the back!) and a pair of black Nike sweatpants.  He folded up his suit and tucked his dagger in between the layers of luxurious fabric before setting the items on the dresser. Before leaving the room he ruffled the sleeping Golden’s ears.

Hunter came back out to the living room where he forced himself in between the two men on the couch. “God, guys. That was tough. I hate being mad at you two. Don’t do that again. Where’s the remote? I wanna watch Fast Five. Gal Gadot is in it so, Bas will like it.” Hunter fidgeted with the television for a moment, thinking about what he should ask Blaine to cook. “Surprise us,Anderson!”

Sebastian:

Sebastian didn’t even attempt to move from his spot as Hunter took off towards his room. He knew that Hunter was going to do whatever he wanted, anyway. “That wasn’t so bad, right?” Seb leaned in and gave Blaine a few kisses while they were alone. He was so relieved that they weren’t going to get turned over to The Order or forced to break up. Sebastian clung to Blaine for a few moments longer, their joy unspoken and their bodies limp from the weight of stress.

He wasn’t shocked when Hunter squeezed in between them on the couch, it was usually like this when he was around. Seb grabbed the remote and shoved it in his friend’s hand. This man, this annoying little shit, had saved them. Had flown to Paris and cleaned up their mess and sucked up his ego and risked his career and reputation.  “Sure, Hunter. I’m sure I can suffer through it. Promise not to get hard when Paul Walker walks on the screen, though.” He punched the other man in the arm, pushed him off the couch a little bit as they laughed. God, he loved his friend and his boyfriend and his life was once again set back into balance.

Blaine:

Blaine let out a laugh that felt far too good to release. “What did you think I meant by my statement in the first place, Clarington?” He rolled his eyes as Hunter all but sauntered into their bedroom to no doubt find an outfit of Seb’s that would annoy the shit out of him. He was lucky he was so damn endearing. Annoyingly so but endearing all the same. He let himself be kissed and comforted by his boyfriend, relishing the way his lips fit perfectly against his. “You’re right, it could have been much worse.” He sat pressed to Sebastian, enjoying his company and the knowledge that they’d be okay today. He should have been annoyed when Hunter all but shoved them both apart and sat himself right between them, cozying up to them. He only felt a minor sting of frustration at seeing Hunter in one of Blaine’s favorite shirts of his, because of course Hunter would pick something out that said Seb’s name so boldly. Instead his rolled his eyes and let himself be moved. His arm behind Hunter’s head, fingers brushing over Seb’s neck just so why he listened to them bicker. After all Hunter had done so much for them, he deserved to be an absolute shit tonight.

Seb’s statement about Paul Walker cheered him right up though and he let out a bigger laugh, full and real. “I think he got you there, Hunter.” He patted Hunters arm, “I hope you like chicken nachos, homemade. It was meant for our dinner but, well, I guess we gotta share now. Back in a flash.”  He smiled to himself and gave Seb’s shoulder a squeeze before making his way to the kitchen. He opened three beers, delivered two to his boyfriend and friends and took a long swig before making his way back to the kitchen to cook. His smiles were coming easier and he was starting to feel a little better, the cool beer soothing his frazzled nerves as he popped the chicken into the oven for their food. But, as he stood in the doorway while he waited for the food to cook and watched his beautiful human boyfriend laugh with his slayer best friend he couldn’t help but feel there was now a little hourglass with pretty sand running down the days his life. On their lives. Maybe it’s always been there, now he just couldn’t stop thinking about it.

/fin

[badwolfwrites-sometimes]

Drawn Together

This one is a bit shorter than I wanted it to be, but I still hope you enjoy it.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18923374/chapters/47322499

Chapter 3

"These two are so sweet, I love them." Feliciano said, eating his plate of gnocchi he made for lunch.

Lovino looked up from his phone and stared at his brother. "What are they doing?"

"Otto just saved her from his cousin and he's going on and on about how beautiful she is. He's so in love with her and she has no clue and it's adorable. They are adorable." Feliciano said, his own eyes filled with pure happiness for the two book characters. Like he was experiencing it himself.

"That's a bit unrealistic, don't you think? Aren't they 12 or something? Kids their age don't feel that strongly about one another. This German-"

"Ludwig."

"Whatever, he's German. Anyway, he clearly has no idea how any of that works so why are you bothering with it?"

"I think it's a good story. I'm only at the beginning and beginnings are always cringy."

"Not always."

"Harry Potter doesn't count. And neither does Percy Jackson."

"Unless it's a movie."

"Percy Jackson movies were never made. We established that rule long ago. Anyway, you're not giving it a chance. Tell you what, in a few more pages it's gonna blow your mind."

"Just you dream, Feli. I'm not reading that. Germans are boring and emotionless writers."

Feliciano finished his plate and got up to put it in the sink. He would wash the dishes later. Maybe. "How would you know? You only ever read Goethe."

"Correction: I didn't. He was too boring to even look at."

"Then you've got no right to talk." And with that Feliciano went upstairs to his room.

'Alice slowly opened the door to the prince's room. She didn't know if she should be in it or not, but she needed to thank him for saving her the day before. She had finally eaten something in a while and never felt as full of energy as she did now. All thanks to the boy sleeping soundly in front of her.

She has heard many stories about the German prince, one being that he was to be the next emperor of the Holy Roman Empire. Alice however, wasn't really interested in the whole emperor thing, especially now as she watched him sleep, clenching a small daisy and a bracelet in her hands, gifts she had prepared for him.

She reached for the nighttable to place them there, but Otto picked that moment to turn around, startling her a bit and causing her to let out a little squeal. Having heard her, Otto woke up and blinked at her.

"Ah...um... Good morning, Prince Otto. I was... I know I shouldn't be here, but I was just leaving. I'm very sorry for waking you up." She managed to let out through stutters.

"Alice?", Otto slowly rised from the bed and sat up at the edge, motioning for the little girl to sit next to him, "What were you doing here in the first place?"

Alice took the offer and sat on the bed next to the prince, careful not to dirty it up with her dress. She looked down in embarrassment of being caught in the act, hopefully Otto will understand her reason. "Well I wanted to thank you for being so nice to me yesterday so I brought some gifts. They aren't much, however."

She pointed to the nighttable and waited for Otto's reaction, half expecting him to throw them out of the window because such simple gifts were not fit for the prince.

To her surprise, Otto picked the bracelet up and placed it on his hand and Alice's own hands moved on their own to help him with it. It was a perfect fit and Alice felt a sense of pride that she was able to make it so perfectly. Maybe she should make him more.

"It fits so perfectly I don't think I'll be taking it off anytime soon. I appreciate the gesture, Alice." Otto smiled as he picked up the daisy.

"It's nothing, really. It's just a thank you gift. I can make many more if you want."

"In that case you would need more material. I suggest you ask Betty to accuire some for you. I will take responsibility of payment."

"I can't do that. I can't ask that much. I'm just a low maid now, you shouldn't be wasting money on me."

This seemed to hurt Otto. How could she think like that? How could she lower herself like that? She may not be the most important person in the world, but she was everything in his world.

"Alice, I choose to spend money on things I see potential in. You have a great talent with these and it should not go to waste. I will simply not allow it." He said, his voice serious. And he was on this matter. "Also, you should not lower yourself so much and think you're not worth a couple of coins. You're a friend of mine and your worth transcends any amount of money in the world."

Alice blushed at that statement, her chest suddenly heavy with new emotions. She knows what it is now. Ever since she arrived here, everytime she saw the prince, she felt it. She has fallen in love.'

Feliciano smiled to himself. As cringey as it sounded, Feliciano enjoyed it. He had his fair share of childhood romances, he knew they could be as overreactive as Ludwig made them be. You love someone so much and you think they are perfect for you even when you don't know if the feeling is mutual, and then you grow up and realize they weren't as perfect as you made them be.

"People cringe just at the mention of their childhood love. Or anything they loved back then. But why? Why can't they be happy with that sweet feeling of childhood innocence, when they loved no matter who or what?" He said quietly to himself.

Feliciano picked the bookmark from the nighttable and placed it in a book before holding it tightly to himself, looking at the ceiling. He still had some glowing stars placed on it from the time he was young, even though they lost their glow. He didn't feel like taking them off as they held a lot of memories. They protected him on stormy nights.

Feliciano's room was actually an attic. It was by his own choice that he got it as a room since it had the best view on the Adriatic sea in the whole house. He spent most of his childhood in it anyway, playing and painting, so when his parents decided to make it into his room, he was overjoyed. He didn't have a specific theme set for his room so in it's early days it looked like a mix of starry sky, dinosaurs, ocean and flowers. It didn't change much from that. Feliciano didn't want it to change.

"I guess I can take a break and paint something. This book is giving me so much inspiration." He said to himself and got up from the bed.

His painting stool was facing the window and an unfinished painting of the Adriatic sea was sitting on it, waiting. Feliciano finally bought the colours he needed to finish the painting. He picked them out of the bag and opened them, allowing himself to be absorbed by the smell of new paint. Which is hopefully not toxic to him at this point in life. Setting them near his stool, he began his work.

Looking at Feliciano painting, one would often call him calm. Sitting there in a relaxed posture, his hand gracefully flowing through the air between canvas and paint and each stroke he makes is done so delicately, it's like watching ASMR videos on Youtube endlessly. However, Feliciano was anything but calm. He was filled with so many emotions. Mostly positive as he wanted his painting to radiate with joy rather than sadness. He didn't have anything against sadness in art, but he figured he liked people smiling more than them feeling melancholic.

The sea was calm today. For the past few days it had been turbulent and the news reported possible aqua alta, but it seemed to cool its emotions today. Feliciano was grateful for that. He always thought the sea was reacting that way because people are hurting it too much. He treated the turbulence as a cry for help and when it rised during aqua alta, he saw it as a warning, like a mother scolding her child. During the calm, however, Feliciano thought of happiness. As if the sea was a beautiful woman who accomplished her goals in life and was radiating energy and wisdom. During the calm, it reminded him of his grandmother, who passed away when Feliciano was 5. He thought part of her soul stayed on to watch over him and his brothers through the sea.

That was the feeling Feliciano wanted to capture. The happiness of a child loved by those who live and who passed away. It was the meaning of life for him. He hoped that meaning will continue living on even when he was gone. Through his family, friends, art he made, and people whose soul he managed to touch through them. All until time stopped.

[beanfic]

Summertime Sadness - Ch.4

Word count: 1840

Warnings: Rebellious teen activities

Author’s note: I hope you enjoy this chapter! :)

Song suggestions: Some Nights by Fun. and We are young by Fun.

The next morning at breakfast was no different than any other, even though your parents would beg to differ. They interrogated you with questions while you looked at your phone and ate your Cheerios.

“You never smile at your phone this often,” your mom said.

“Yeah, what happened last night?” your dad added.

“Nothing happened? I’m being normal?” you lied.

They didn’t believe your lie, and you decided to just ignore them. You couldn’t help smiling every time Josh’s name flashed up on your phone.

“Can I be excused?” you asked once you finished your cereal.

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

You headed to the kitchen and washed your bowl out, and put it in the dishwasher. You ran back up to your bedroom and started to text Josh back.

We should hang tonight

You waited for his response eagerly. Once you heard your phone vibrate, you pounced and read it right away.

I’m totally down. Let me take you on a drive.

You smiled like an idiot to yourself as you read the message over and over. You really had never felt this way before, and what if he felt the same way too?

“Who are you texting?” your brother asked, barging into your room.

“Can you knock?”

“Excuse me? You fucking walked in on me watching porn. I think I get to barge in on you whenever I want.”

“Okay okay. I’m texting Josh.”

“Josh Dun?” His tone of voice gave you an anxious feeling, you really hated that your brother disapproved,

“Yes, he’s super nice. We’re hanging out again tonight.”

“He’s such a fucking douche.”

“You don’t even know him?”

“He went to my high school. I know him more than you do. He was that emo kid with the lip piercing. He’s weird.”

“Lip piercing?” The thought of Josh wearing a lip piercing made you giggle. “He’s different now though, John. He seems genuine and caring, and he’s attractive.”

You watched your brother roll his eyes.

“I don’t care if you disapprove, Johnny, I’m 18 and I can do whatever I want.”

“Y/N, it’s not that I disapprove, it’s that I don’t want my little sister getting hurt. He’s a bad influence.”

“Thanks, but I think I can handle myself, can you leave now?” you gave your brother a glare, showing him that he was no longer welcome in your room.

Your phone started buzzing in your pocket and you pulled it out to see Josh calling you. You pressed the answer button, and held the phone up to your ear.

“Hey, Dun!”

“Hey, Y/L/N! I was wondering if we could make it a late night drive? Tyler wanted to rehearse for a little tonight.”

“Like how late?”

“I could pick you up around 11:30?”

“I can’t Josh, I have a curfew.”

“C’mon, Y/L/N.”

“I don’t know.”

“You can sneak out, they will never know.”

You took a second to think about Josh’s offer. Sneaking out couldn’t be too hard, and you knew that you parents go to bed early usually.

“Okay, I think I can pull it off.”

“Perfect! I’ll be outside around 11:30, okay?”

“Okay.”

“See you later, Y/L/N.”

“You too, Dun.”

You hung up the phone and held it against your chest and you plopped down on your bed backwards. You breathed in heavily and started to figure out a good way to sneak out. You decided that you were going to be on your best behavior all day, and go to bed early.

Your window wasn’t that high up so you decided to try to sneak out of that. Getting home would be harder, but you knew you could convince Johnny to come open the door for you, hopefully.

The rest of the day was a blur. It was spent with you helping your dad clean the garage and organize all his tools, as well as vacuuming the downstairs. Your mom was gone all day for work, which was good for you since she would have picked up on how you were helping out.

Your dad cooked spaghetti and garlic bread for dinner. Bri, Johnny and you all sat around the dinner table playing two truths and lie. A family tradition during dinner.

You were starting to feel nervous and dinner was coming to a close. You had never snuck out before, and you knew that if your parents found out,  your whole summer would probably be ruined.

You tried to reassure yourself by thinking of only positive outcomes, but occasionally the negative thought would come sneaking back in.

“You okay, Y/N?” you dad asked. “You’re spacing out pretty hard.”

“No I’m fine, just really tired. I think I’m going to go to bed pretty early tonight.” You tried to avoid eye contact with your family members as you headed to the kitchen to wash your dishes.

“Do you wanna wash my plate for me?” Bri handed you her plate, looking up at you with her big green eyes.

You sighed, “Sure.” You washed her plate as well. You looked at the kitchen clock, and it read 6:45. Only five more hours until you had to sneak out.  

You spent those last five hours by hanging out with Bri and helping her record a youtube video of her doing her makeup. By the time it was around 11:15 you said goodnight to your dad and your mom, who had just gotten home.

You sat in your room, waiting for the text from Josh saying that he was on his way. You decided to wear jeans and a queen sweatshirt that you Dad had given you last year. It was a sweatshirt he got from a concert he went to when he was younger.

You nibbled on your nails as the time grew closer and closer. You jumped a little when your phone vibrated and lit up with a text from Josh.

On my way!

You took a deep breath and stood up from your bed. You opened your bedroom window slowly, trying to make as little sound as you could. You had to pry off the screen part, which was easier than you were expecting.

You looked out at the tilted rooftop, and your heart started to beat faster as you noticed how far the grass actually was. You slowly put your left foot out on the planks of wood and tried to stable yourself before putting your second foot out.

Once you had both feet, you squatted and held onto the roof with your hands. You did a little shuffle down to the gutter, and you stared at the ground that was probably a good 8 feet away.

You sat on the gutter with your feet dangling off, and you threw yourself off hoping you would land on your feet. You hit the grass with a thud, and you could feel a sharp pain shoot up your left shin bone.

“Ow fu-” you stopped yourself before you cried out. The last thing you wanted was to wake up your family and them coming out and finding you.

You grabbed your shin and started to roll around the grass to distract yourself from screaming out in pain. The pain started to subside, and you stood up and started walking over to Josh’s jeep that was parked in front of your house.

“That was quite the show,” he chuckled as you hopped in.

“You saw all that?”

“I watched you climb out of your window and then chuck yourself off the roof, yeah, I saw it all,” he started laughing which made you burst out in laughter too.

“Where are we going?”

“Just sit back and relax!”

You were nervous. “Okay.”

“Do you trust me, Y/L/N?”

“Yes, Dun, I trust you.”

“Good.”

Josh started to drive away, and once he got onto the highway, he rolled down the window and blasted the music. He was playing the new Fun. album, some nights and you couldn’t help but to sing along.

“You’re a good singer,” he smiled over at you. You could feel your cheeks get hot.

“Sing with me.”

Josh looked over at you with this look in his eyes, and he shook his head. “I don’t sing.”

“I doubt that, Dun. You’re in a band.”

“I play drums, Tyler does the singing.”

You shrugged. The wind from the windows blew your hair around as he drove about 90 down the highway. Usually, you would feel scared, but you had never felt safer when you were with him.

You watched Josh’s hand turn down the music and he looked over at you. You both just smiled at each other and then giggling from the silent eye contact.

“I want to know more about you, Y/L/N. I know you just graduated, but tell me more about you.”

“Okay, well I have an older brother, who you know, and a little sister. Do you have any siblings?”

“Yeah, I have three younger siblings. One brother and two sisters.”

“Nice, what about your drumming situation. How long have you been doing that for?”

He sighed, “I’ve been playing drums ever since I was little, but I started playing with Tyler’s band earlier this year.”

“That’s so cool! I’ve heard some of his music, it seems really cool.”

“Yeah, the band is called Twenty One Pilots.”

“Twenty One Pilots? But there's only two of you.”

He shrugged, “Ask Tyler. I didn't get to choose the band name!”

This made you laugh, “Any more questions for me?”

“Yeah, what do you do for fun? Like what are your hobbies?”

“Oh,” you thought about it for a while before deciding on what to say. “I like to write poetry, but I’m really interested in psychology. I’m going to community college starting in the fall.”

“Poetry? That’s really cool! Could I read it sometime?”

“Maybe.” You gave him a smirk.

“It’s already one in the morning, I should probably get you home!”

“True.”

Josh started driving back home, turning the music back up. We Are Young by Fun. was blasting and you started to sing along. You didn’t care what Josh thought of your singing, and at that moment you felt like you were invincible.

Josh took his right hand off his wheel and placed it on your hand that was on your lap. It took you by surprise, and you looked over at Josh who was still focused on the road. You allowed him to intertwine his fingers with yours, and you held his hand the rest of the way home.

He pulled up to the driveway and he let go of your hand. You immediately missed the warmth. You didn’t want to sneak back inside; you wanted to spend the rest of the night with Josh.

“Wish me luck, Dun,” you joked as you hopped out of his truck.

“Wait, Y/L/N, I think I’m really starting to like you.”

“You know what, Dun? I think I’m really starting to like you too.”

Tag list: 

@takenvysleep @ohprettyweeper @oncemorewithfeelingg @gaiatheroyalrabbit @svintsandghosts @krispy-cakes @patdsinner33 @breadbinishigh @demonsdontcontrolus

[purplesurveys]

525

This survey is literally called Adult Survey so let’s see just how bad I am at being one 👉😎👉 What grocery store do you shop at the most? My mom does most of her shopping in SM supermarkets, but sometimes she’ll stick with Freshto.

Which stovetop burner do you use the most? Uhhhh I haven’t used the stove in a while, especially since it almost exploded in my face the last time I used it – but I used to go with the rightmost one since it was the largest, and it fit the pan that I typically used. Do you use a dishwasher or wash dishes by hand? We wash dishes by hand here. I can’t name you anyone who actually bought themselves a dishwasher here in the Philippines.

What color is your favorite laundry basket? Idk, I don’t have a favorite. What color was your first car? White. If we’re talking about the car bought by my parents.

What was your first job? Never had one yet. What is the best job you've had? What is the best pharmacy near you? Not sure about the best, but we have one right across the village that we head to. Do you use public transportation? NO. Public transport in this country is an embarrassment, a joke, and one of the reasons I’m hell-bent on moving out entirely. If you ever needed a country that has trains regularly break down every week (forcing its passengers to walk to their destinations even when they’re nowhere near), trains with poor air conditioning, smoke-belching jeepneys, buses driven by murderous drivers, and public transportation that all in all will force you to wake up 3 hours earlier and STILL end up late to school/work, the Philippines is for you. Which bank do you use? I don’t have any sort of card yet.

Do you have a credit card? ^ What is your favorite fast food restaurant? As questionable as every branch of theirs smells like, I have to give the crown to KFC. What do you want to name your kids? Olivia and Mia are pretty much locked in for me. Still clueless about boy names. How many tattoos do you have? No tattoos. What year did you graduate high school? 2016. Three years, but it’s felt like forever ago. What chore do you hate the most? I haaaaate washing dishes. Thankfully Gabie loves doing it, so it’ll be easier for me when we move in together haha. What is your favorite shampoo to use? Dove is fine. How do you remove stains from clothes? Water and tissue usually do the trick. Do you carry pepper spray? I don’t. I really should. What highway do you drive on the most? Marcos Highway. I live on it and have to go through it if I want to go anywhere. Do you like driving? It’s convenient and I like being out on my own time without the pressure of tiring out/going overtime on a personal driver; but being stuck in traffic for hours all by yourself can be very draining. What is your favorite radio station? I listen to 93.1 in the morning for my favorite radio program, but for the rest of the day I’d switch between that, 99.5, 94.7, and 87.5. What do you use for an alarm clock (phone, stereo, actual clock, etc.)? I use my phone and I have like 5 alarms set everyday because I’m pretty difficult to wake up. Which department store do you shop at the most? I don’t shop for stuff a lot; most of my money goes to food haha. Which dollar store is your favorite? Do you shop at the dollar store often? We don’t even use dollars, sis. What is your favorite gas station? I don’t have a favorite but I like going to Petron just out of habit. Do you burn candles often? I never burn candles. How do you relax? It depends on what I feel like doing. I can choose to watch YouTube videos, watch Friends, take a survey, take a nap, or binge-eat. What's your favorite app on your phone? Twitter or Reddit. What do you cook the most? I can’t :( When was the last time you relaxed in a hot bath? Over a year ago? I dunno, I don’t get to do this a lot. Do you take showers or baths normally? Showers. What is your favorite candle scent? Whatever smells like food, like a bakery or cinnamon. Floral scents make me gag. How much does it cost for you to laundry (if you use a slot machine)? Do you make your bed every day? Yes. It feels so much nicer coming home to a fixed bed. Do you have any pets? Yes, I have a dog. Do you have kids? Nope. Are you married? Also nope. Do you save receipts? Receipts from important dates, sure. I like keeping the little details. Do you use re-usable bags at the grocery store? I think my mom does. What color is your carpet? We have a big brown carpet in the living room, but other than that the rest of the house isn’t carpeted. Have you ever burnt yourself with the glue gun? No and I am too scared to know what it feels like so I’ve never held a glue gun before. We actually had to use one fairly recently to make props for an org event, but I told my orgmates I wasn’t gonna help in that department and I could work anywhere else I was needed instead. Do you write checks? Nah. I’ve had my parents ask me to pay with one, though. Ever had a garage sale? My parents never held one, but we’ve been to several. What have been some of your best garage sale finds? I don’t think we bought anything from them. What time do you wake up in the morning? Depends if I have something to do that day. Are you a morning person? God no. I hate having to report to school early and I usually need an hour or two to adjust to the surroundings. I have a 7 AM class on Wednesdays and Fridays and my brain just refuses to cooperate every time.

Are you more of a morning person now than you used to be? Haha I don’t think I ever was a morning person. Do you like to read? I used to. Nowadays I’ll read something every now and then, but it’s not my favorite hobby anymore. What was the first election you voted in? 2016. Who is on speed dial in your phone? We don’t have speed dial. Do you play games on your phone? Sure. I used to have no games at all cos I thought it was a waste of storage, but now I have like 10 games on my phone because of all the advertisements I see hahaha. What phone do you have? I have an iPhone 8. What was your first phone? I keep forgetting the exact model, but it was the iconic Nokia one that had a green screen and early versions of Snake and Space Impact. What kind of computer do you have? I was too young to ever pay attention to the brand and the model, tbh. I did reach the era where connecting to the internet meant weird sounds and not being able to use the landline, so there’s that. Wall calendar or desk calendar? Phone and laptop calendar. If you read a daily devotional, which one are you using currently? I don’t. What is your favorite book? I’ve read a lot of books but I don’t think I’ve encountered my favorite yet. What is the strangest food you've had? I absolutely love Indian food and would do anything for it, but gulab jamun was pretty horrid. The taste confused me so much and the wet, sticky texture didn’t help either. What do you do when the power goes out? Curse out Meralco on social media, especially if it was an unannounced outage. Then I’d stay with my dog so that he doesn’t get scared. Does your home have a basement? Nope. How often do you clean? My mom likes to be in charge of general cleaning, and she does so once in a few months. How often do you go grocery shopping? An hour or so seems like it. Ever bought a lottery ticket? Nah, I don’t want to grow obsessed with it hahaha. Do you gamble? Nope. What does your purse look like? My *wallet has several essential cards/IDs, my savings, and old receipts and papers I never got around to throwing away. Do you ever sleep on the floor? No. I slept on the floor a lot as a kid and I hated it, so I stay away from the possibility completely now. Which room do you stay in the most? Mine? What is your bedtime? I don’t have one, but I always strive to be in bed by 10 or 11 PM. Ever worked two jobs or more at once? This hasn’t happened to me. Do you live in an apartment, condo, house, or dorm? I live in my parents’ house. What does your dream house look like? Modern, minimalist, square-shaped, lots of glass, white. Describe your dream wedding. I haven’t figured out what location I want, but I wouldn’t want it to be in church, at the beach, or in a barn. I want an all-white (or at least almost all-white) motif, a laaaaarge guest list (I’ll only get one wedding so I’m making it huge lmao), free flowing drinks, cupcake racks, and I wouldn’t want it to be too formal nor too casual. That’s like 6 elements out of the hundred I’ll probably end up thinking of, but it’s a start. How often do you go on vacation? As often as my dad is home, so like a few times every 4 months. What is your favorite type of weather? Rainy/stormy, dark, and bleak. What do you do when you have a sore throat? Hate myself. And continue eating whatever because a sore throat isn’t gonna stop me from eating delicious food. How often do you go see a doctor? When it’s required lol Do you have acid reflux? I don’t. Do you snore? I snore only when I’m ridiculously exhausted after a day. And when I do it’s only like once then I stop. Are you on birth control? I’m not. I don’t need it currently. What kind of toothpaste do you use? A normal one? Idk, I just use Colgate. Do you wear glasses or contacts? I have glasses. How often do you wear make-up? Only when I go to parties, which isn’t often. Do you put on make-up in the bathroom or the bedroom? Gabie usually puts makeup on me in her room. Do you have a swimming pool? Nope. What is the first site you go to when you turn on your computer? It differs, based on what I feel like doing/have to do. Typically, though, it’s Twitter. Which email service do you use? Gmail. How often do you check your email? Everyday, because I guess I’M AN ADULT NOW AND I HAVE TO SUCK IT UP. How old were you when you got your first phone? I was 7. I’m pretty sure my parents didn’t want to get it for me, but I was 7 in a private school, everyone was getting their own phones (and this was when phones was starting to get big among kids), and I was feeling pressured to get my own. What was your favorite boy band back in the 90's? I wasn’t conscious for most of the 90s. Did you own a Britney Spears album? Nope.

[rosaetae]

how to: change a diaper

☇ anon asked: “can u write a blurb where y/n and tae are new parents and hes trying to figure out how to do it on his lil baby boy but he ends up peeing every where and then y/n comes home to them showering together and being soft asf”

➢  pairing: taehyung x reader

➢  genre: dad!taehyung, major major fluff

➢  word count: 2.3k

➢  a/n: in no means does this actually teach you how to change a diaper... sorry to disappoint 

➢  summary: leaving your husband and son alone to go to work for the first time seems a bit weary. but what could go wrong?

Becoming a mom after three years of knowing and marrying the love of your life was wholly unexpected, but inevitable, needless to say. Of course, you wanted to become a mom, it was a dream where you wanted to wake up one morning to your husband snoozing beside you and your child squished between the shield of mom and dad, head in dreamland as you would smile to yourself and realize this is where happiness is. But just directly after marrying the love of your life, you were pregnant!— as said by your many pregnancy tests, the hurlings every time you wake up, and the visit to the clinic.

You were thrilled, how couldn't you be? Your parents and his parents were ebullient to the news and Taehyung would give you endless support and care while you were carrying your child, but with the pain during those excruciating nine months? You have said some rather malicious things to your husband that you were sorry— not really sorry simultaneously— for, but it was understandable, as you were the one having to undergo the suffering through the beauty and pain of giving birth.  

Now fast forward with your son being a year old and inheriting his mischievous traits from his dad, you were glad you were heading back to work as Taehyung had volunteered to stay at home and take care of baby Taemin after he has left you alone with your son while he went off to tour for a few months. The most sleep you've had was 14 hours the whole week and being able to head down to your studio to take a power nap and finish up some of your pieces sounded like paradise in your ears.

Leaving that morning with your brushes in hand, you vocally declare the daily routine of Taemin's to your husband as you were putting on your boots near the door. Taehyung listened and listened, carrying Taemin in his arms while Taemin was sucking his bottle of milk, paying rather no attention that his mother was leaving him with his father.

"Make sure he eats lunch," you say, zipping up your boots. "Nap time is at 2— he usually sleeps for an hour and a half— snacks around 4—oh! He's been really liking Cheerios as of lately and bed time is—"

"7:30," Taehyung finishes off your long litany of you being a consumed mother and you sigh, eyes closing in thankfulness. Your husband walks towards you with a grin on his face. "Don't worry about us, we'll be fine. You should be worrying about your piece that you wanted to finish."

Pursing your lips, you look at him through your eyelashes and he's peering down at you with reassurance and you can't be anymore grateful to have a husband like him. "Okay," you finally let out and Taehyung chuckles. "The house better not be a mess when I come home! I cleaned it right before you got back."

"Copy that," he says with false sternness when he lowers his voice in a joking matter, having you laugh at your wonderful goofball of a husband. Your eyes falter towards your son who had his head against his father's chest, your heart melting at the sight of your pride and joy in the arms of the love of your life and it makes you rethink about going to the studio today. "Go. We got it under control in the Kim's Household."

"What if something goes wrong?" You begin to wonder, causing you to grow even more weary. "What if there's a fire? Or—"

"Babe," he chuckles at your worries and presses a kiss on your cheek, hoping to wash away some of that worry away— and it semi does. "We'll be fine. Seriously, get out of here before I kick your ass out of here."

"Hey, language!" You gape as you reach over to lightly press your hands over Taemin's ears and it causes Taehyung to grin.

"Go," your husband urges and you sigh in defeat letting out a string of 'alright, alright' out of your mouth as you roll your eyes, giving a kiss to your husband and your son's cheek. "Bye, Bob Ross, have a wonderful day, we will see you when you come back."

Laughing at his farewell, you head towards the front door, your hand unlatching the door and turning the knob before you turn around to give them one last look.

"Taemin," Taehyung cooes while he gently grabs his son's hand to imitate a wave goodbye to you. "Say bye to Mommy Bob Ross!"

You wave goodbye as Taehyung walks after you to close the door behind you and when you were a foot outside the house, you twirl around and point your finger at Taehyung. "And don't forget to change his diap—"

Shamelessly, Taehyung may have just closed the door in your face while you were in the middle of your goshdamn sentence, but as you were going to pound on the door to yell in his face, you realized that the sun was out on this cloudy day and you realized how you haven't really been out the few months Taehyung was gone. Sure, you've ran some errands, but you haven't really felt the sun's rays on your body in awhile and you hadn't noticed that the grass was greener than the last time you saw it. And sure enough, you felt inspired and motivated to walk into your studio and to finish the piece you haven't been able to finish.

-

Meanwhile, as you were enjoying your felicity away from home, Taehyung was able to remember to change Taemin's diaper after you were so close to leaving when you just had to point your finger at his face to remind him to do that simple task. But that's when he realized his grave mistake; he probably should have asked you how to change diapers again instead of slamming the front door directly in your face.

Taemin was in the midst of crying and wailing as his father was trying to desperately put the new diaper under his son's old diaper, while trying to tune out his son's cacophony of his cries to focus on following a YouTube video on how to properly change diapers. Yes, Taehyung has changed diapers before, but that was a while ago and in the midst of his world tour, he didn't have enough practice to master the art of changing diapers so he was certain that something would go wrong  if he didn't have some sort of guidance.

And just as Taehyung was following each step properly, he missed one step, having him to rewind the video, but just as he reached over to double tap on the screen, he feels a warm liquid hit him and hit the wall before he had finally registered what had happened.

Taemin peed everywhere.

Taehyung, having to pause the YouTube video, simply sighed as he stared at his son who was now no longer crying and was staring at him with those innocent baby eyes that had the power to guilt trip any parent in sight. "You've got to be kidding me," he states as he slowly comes to the result that his son has peed not only on himself, but on Taehyung, and the walls, causing a big mess that not only made Taehyung sigh in aggravation, he had realized that his son does take after his mischievous traits, and he couldn't have felt anymore bad for you than he already does.

When you had finished your piece of what was your idyllic view of home, you were excited to go home and see what mess your husband and your son could have made. Perhaps maybe there would be food splattered on the walls and cabinets, Cheerios on the floor and scattered on the table, or maybe a huge explosion made from the toy box would have occurred in the living room— whatever it was, you embraced yourself for it.

So when you open the door of your house, you were expecting a heavy-breathing exhausted Taehyung running towards you, probably wanting to squeeze you tight with a hug, thanking that you're finally home. You also expected the house to be a mess, but you were subtly surprised to see the house intact.

"Taehyung?" You call out as you enter the house, hoping that your husband would come in after hearing your voice. No response. "Taehyung!" You try again and there is not one answer and you begin to panic, running to Taemin's nursery room to see that he wasn't anywhere in sight and you run to the master's room where you think that Taemin is probably sleeping beside Taehyung in the room, but seeing that the room was empty too, your heart begins to hasten before you realize you hear the shower running, some giggling following afterwards.

Opening the door to the bathroom, the light-hearted laughter grew louder and being entirely confused at the situation, you knock on the door, letting awareness spread by your presence in the room.

"___?" Taehyung calls and you walk towards his voice in the shower, sliding the shower curtain to reveal not only your naked husband, but your naked husband and your naked son, showering together.

"Look, Taemin!" Taehyung laughs. "Mommy's home!"

Taemin lets out a string of excited squeals, his hand waving at you slightly before slapping it on top of Taehyung's head, eliciting a giggle from out of your mouth. Your husband gives an 'owww' before blowing air into Taemin's chest, causing a loud fart noise that made Taemin giggle even louder. Heart exploding of the cuteness stood before you, you shake your head at your husband and your son.

"I'll leave you two to it," you say, a big smile on your face as you close the shower curtain and leave the bathroom, you heading towards the kitchen to make yourself cereal in a mug (yes, you were craving Honey Bunch cereal in the evening) when you notice that the dishes were washed and the sofa was neat and tidy with the blanket folded and the pillows in a nice order.

Taehyung comes back shortly after in his pajamas and you smile up at him, mouth full of cereal. He runs a hand through his damp hair, smirking at you as he takes a seat at the island in front of you.

"So, how was your day?" You ask with a smirk after downing the food in your mouth. "You really cleaned up the place."

Your husband laughs as he watches you put another spoonful of cereal in your mouth. "It was great. Taemin cried only once the whole day."

Impressed, you raise your eyebrows and walk over to the sink to put your mug in and peer over at your cheeky husband. "I'm impressed. I was hoping to see the house a mess... like an apocalypse happened when I was gone." In response, your husband laughs, shaking his head.

"Come on, babe, give me credit," he whines as you walk towards him, sticking your tongue out at him. "I'm a great father."

Wrapping your arms around his neck as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer between his legs. "You are the best father out there," you laugh. "But, you're telling me there wasn't one little mishap that happened today?"

Taehyung purses his lips, shaking his head and you narrow your eyes at him in suspicion. There was no way, with Taemin who inherited his father's coy and rascal traits, that there wouldn't be one little situation where something went wrong. And it hits you, a smug grin emerging on your face as he raises an eyebrow.

"Did you change his diaper?" You inquire and Taehyung nods, lips still pursed. "Tae, did you really?"

Opening his mouth to say something, Taehyung closes it and he sighs, breaking. "Well, let's just say I kind of forgot how to do it." And you bite your lip to suppress your hysteric. "In my defense,  I had no baby to practice changing diapers on during the tour— not counting babying Jimin on the last day of the tour when he wouldn't stop crying." Head leaning down to his neck, you howl with laughter before you straighten up and look at him.

"Why didn't you just call me?" You ask.

"Because I felt bad," Taehyung mumbles and you crinkle your nose at him. "And I had the help of trusty YouTube to help me— but when I paused to rewind, Taemin kind of... peed on me, the wall, everywhere."

And that's when you laugh again, reaching your hand to pat his cheek gently. "Bingo."

"I don't know how you did it," Taehyung exhales loudly. "Taking care of Taemin alone for three months?"

"I mean, I'm pretty amazing," you smile cheekily causing your husband to snort.

"No, you really are," he begins. "You have no idea how lucky I am to have a family with you."

His sweet words hit you and it makes you feel all mushy inside after your day of finishing your piece, and its evident when you start to gush, red tinting your cheeks as he smiles at your reaction. "I could say the same to you," you say before leaving a kiss on his lips, but before you began to part away, Taehyung's hand moves to your back to bring you closer to kiss him again. Molding your lips with his, you giggle in the kiss as he pokes your side teasingly. However, you immediately pull back and eye him questioningly.

"Did you clean the wall?"

Taehyung sighs again, head lying on your shoulder in defeat. "I was hoping we could just... paint over it or something."

Groaning, you bring your hands to your face. "So you just left the room to smell like piss?."

"It won't smell like piss anymore if we paint over it and use Febreze."

[tisfan]

One Hand Washes the Other

Title of Piece: One Hand Washes the Other Also on A03 Square filled: A4 - WTF Warning: unrepentant fluff, weird coping mechanisms, first date Pairing: Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes Summary: Bucky doesn’t always eat with the team. It takes Tony a while to figure out why. Created for @tonystarkbingo

Barnes didn’t always join the team for dinner. Tony didn’t always notice when he wasn’t there. At first, it was because maybe Tony was there; they weren’t exactly on friendly terms. But as time went on, and Tony was a rational, reasonable person, the enmity faded. Grew into something like grudging respect, and then grudging admiration. And then, because it was Tony, it might have turned into something like a reluctant crush.

Tony didn’t like to admit that he liked someone; it hadn’t usually worked out well for him. Case in point: Pepper Potts was back on the West Coast again, and sometimes missing her was like an extra hole in his chest, and he was beginning to believe that his emotional make-up was something very swiss-cheese in composition, and he didn’t need any more random aches and pains, thank you very much.

So, Tony tried not to notice when Barnes wasn’t around.

It’s not like Tony showed up to every single one of them, either.

To keep people from fighting about food, team dinners were two different protocols; ordering takeout was on a semi-random, preference oriented schedule. Which was to say, everyone entered in their personal favorites and Friday would select what people were getting for dinner. Which meant pizza was regular, as well as Chinese take away. Burgers.

The other protocol was the cooking roster, because some of the team liked to cook, and others on the team liked to sit down to a home cooked meal. Bruce, for instance, made the words best baby back ribs and absolutely would not tell anyone his secret, even swearing the AIs to secrecy and Friday diligently kept her word (traitor) and refused to allow Tony to access the kitchen camera. Not that Tony could cook, most of the time, but it was the principle of the thing.

But eventually, Tony noticed a pattern, because it was Tony.

The first night they’d done cheeseburgers, Barnes had eaten his portion with a knife and fork. Okay, weird, but a lot of Europeans did that, too, and Barnes had spent a lot of time in Europe. Tony, who drank a lot of his meals (sometimes they were smoothies and sometimes they were booze, and who asked you anyway?) didn’t comment, but Clint did.

And Barnes stopped showing up on burger nights.

He’d never showed up for pizza.

Barnes showed up for chicken one night, but he’d backed up and left in somewhat of a hurry when he saw the containers and realized it was fried chicken, not baked. Clint had waved a drumstick at him, trying to tempt him, but Barnes didn’t even look back.

Tony couldn’t help but notice a pattern after a while.

Barnes never showed up -- or left quickly if he did show up -- when the meal was something eaten by hand. Spaghetti nights, he was as deft with a fork and spoon to twirl pasta against as anyone. He ate epic amounts of steak and potatoes. Raw oysters disappeared like crazy, and sushi was a big hit, but peel-and-eat shrimp or crab legs were right out.

The guy wouldn’t eat popcorn on movie nights, either.

Well, Tony knew all about weird hangups that manifested in odd behavior, and he wasn’t going to call the guy out. Maybe it was some sort of shame-thing about the metal arm, even tho Shuri’s design was top notch, really quite elegant. Or something weird about the way it clicked when he moved it, but… well, it wasn’t Tony’s business, was it?

It wasn’t until one particularly bad bout of engineering fuge where Tony hadn’t slept in days, but had to stagger out of the workshop because he was out of coffee downstairs, and staring at the fabricator wasn’t going to make it run any faster that he actually saw Barnes.

Alone.

[more below the cut]

Sitting in front of the television, watching some late night, black and white, movie marathon and eating out of a bowl.

At first, Tony thought he had some of the left-over noodles -- there were always Chinese noodles of some sort or other in the fridge -- because the bowl was small, he was holding it under his chin, and he was wielding a pair of chopsticks with his left hand. The ridiculous mock up lightsaber kind that Tony had bought from Think Geek, because it was cool, and also because he was a little jealous that he hadn’t thought of it first.

Barnes didn’t take his eyes off the television, dipped the chopsticks into his bowl, and something crunched.

Not like a bamboo shoot, or a water chestnut, either, but…

“Are you eating Cheetos with chopsticks?” Tony couldn’t help but burst out. “Barnes, what the fuck?”

Barnes scrambled to put the bowl down; the chopsticks disappeared like a magician’s trick. “What? I was jus’ watching a movie, can’t always sleep--”

“No, no, that’s fine,” Tony said, waving that away. He knew quite a lot about not being able to sleep. “Can I just ask why?”

“Why what? Why can’t I sleep?” Barnes’s wide-eyed innocent look was both very good and damned endearing, but he wasn’t fooling Tony.

“Why do you eat like that, it’s so--”

“Weird. Creepy. Fucked up. I know.” Barnes heaved a sigh and by the time he was done, he looked somehow smaller and more fragile than Tony had ever seen him. This man, the one in front of him, blushing uncomfortably and fidgeting, that was a man that Tony could call Bucky. Not the cold-blooded killer, or the reluctant Avenger. He rubbed thoughtfully at the palm of his metal hand with the thumb from his right.

“Hey, I don’t let people hand me shit,” Tony said. “I am the last person to give you grief about weird coping mechanisms, I’m just wondering why.”

“Did you know that your computer keyboard has twenty thousand times more germs than a toilet seat?”

That seemed like a non-sequitur if Tony ever head one. Also, pointless. Supersoldiers didn’t get sick.

“There might be a reason I use hard light and projected imagery instead of something as quaint as a mouse and keyboard system,” Tony said. Also, projected imagery was a lot cooler than a clunky board.

Barnes spread his metal fingers to their max extension, all the little plates opening up to allow for the movement. Gold and black, it was gorgeous, and Tony wanted to touch it, poke at it, because, well, he generally had a boner for engineering, even if it wasn’t his own.

“Dust gets caught up in here,” Barnes said. “An’ other stuff.”

Blood, Tony read between the lines.

“There’s no cleaning features? That just seems like a failure in--”

“It was a little easier with th’ old one because there wasn’t a lot on th’ way of actual sensitivity. Used to brush it out with compressed air, but that shit is cold, and this hand can detect temperature extremes,” Barnes shuddered. “There’s coating on the circuits, that makes it waterproof, so like, I c’n wash my hands and stuff. But it’s disturbin’ as hell to wash my hands and see… grease an’ crumbs drippin’ out. Put m’ hand in th’ sewer a few weeks back, durin’ that fight with th’ Wrecking Crew. Took me almost forty minutes t’ wash all the muck an’ grime and other people’s shit out of it.”

“Well, that’s a disturbing image, yes, I can imagine,” Tony said.

“I jus’... don’t like to touch my food with it. And I’m left-handed, so eatin’ right handed is awkward.”

“So, you don’t eat things that you can’t use utensils for,” Tony said.

Barnes’ chopsticks appeared again and he hefted a cheeto and crunched it. “Saw this on one of them videos on YouTube, some girl showin’ how to eat without messing up your makeup, or getting chip dust all over your fingers.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Tony said, and his mind was already whirring, because that’s what his brain did. Problems existed in order to be solved. Bucky’s chopsticks would work well for small things; chips and french fries and popcorn, but what about pizza? Cheeseburgers?

For that matter, what about raw sewage? No one should have to put up with that inside their bodies, even if Barnes couldn’t get sick, hadn’t he already gotten the short end of the stick with the unwilling body modifications?

“It works, at least,” Barnes said. He crunched another cheeto with pleasure.

Tony got a second bowl out of the cabinet, and snagged a pair of chopsticks. “Mind if I have some?”

“You pay for the groceries,” Barnes pointed out, but he poured out a serving of cheetos for Tony.

“Thanks.”

“What’s this?”

“Add-on,” Tony said, handing over the little disk. “It’s a-- well, consider it a deflector dish. I didn’t get a test audience on the branding, but since it’s only for people with high tech prosthetics, I don’t expect they’ll care what it’s called. Here, it goes on the back of the hand, here--” Tony picked up Barnes’ metal hand without really thinking about it, and the man froze. Tony was standing much closer than he usually did, and when Barnes glanced up at him, they were practically close enough to kiss.

“Right? Then what?” Barnes asked, not pulling back, and his blue eyes went deep and liquid.

“Well, I was studying the princess’s specs, and your arm still has an unreasonable amount of circuit heat, thus the plate mechanism, in addition to flexibility and strength, provides the cooling. So, we can’t quite do without it, yet, but she and I are doing a little collaboration, maybe make Steve Austin Mark III a little less clunky…” Tony said. “But for now… here, come here, and put your hand in this.”

There were not words for the look Barnes gave him, as Tony led him over to a bucket of slime.

“Go on, test it out.”

“I’m gonna make you clean all this shit out,” Barnes threatened.

Tony gave him a smile. “Deal. Put your hand in there, Buckybear.”

Barnes grumbled, but pushed his fingertips into the slime, which hastily shifted and pushed away.

“What th’ fuck?” Barnes -- no, Bucky’s -- eyes lit up, and the smile on his face was beyond joy. Wonder, amazement.

“It’s not very strong, but it extends about an eighth of a millimeter past the plates. Consider it a sort of electrostatic… skin. Works just like our skin,” Tony said. “Keeps all the dirt out, and…”

Bucky swirled his fingers in the slime. “I… can feel that. I can feel it. Not just pressure, not… I can feel that, Tony.”

“Yep, sunshine, that was the plan,” Tony said. He nodded to a cloth on the side of the bucket. “You’ll still have to wash it off, but--”

Bucky wiped his hand free, and then, before Tony was quite aware of what Bucky planned, those metal fingers were stroking down the side of Tony’s skin.

He told himself the tingles that it raised was nothing more than an effect of the electrostatic shield. He was lying, because he’d already tested it, several times, and he knew that there was no way any normal human would detect anything different about Bucky’s arm. That it would just feel like metal, smooth and supple.

“Tony, I can…” Bucky’s eyes filled and a tear spilled down one cheek.

“Yeah.”

“Why?” Bucky pulled his fingers back, rubbed them against his shirt, then held them out again, marveling. “Why-- thank you, but why?”

“Well, mostly, because out of all of us, you deserve to be able to eat a cheeseburger in peace.”

“Thank you,” Bucky said again, and he cupped the side of Tony’s face, as if still enchanted by the way Tony’s cheek felt under his palm.

“You’re welcome,” Tony said.

“Uh, can… will you join me, for a cheeseburger?” Bucky asked. And Tony might not have thought anything of it, except at the very end of the word, Bucky winked.

“Are… you asking me on a date?”

“If I said yes, will you say yes?”

“It’s a date, then,” Tony said.

[tomeandflickcorner]

The Star Wars Holiday Special

For those of you who are familiar with this special, yes, I have gone stark raving mad!  For those of you who have never heard of it, yes, this actually exists! On November 17th, 1978, CBS aired a 2 hour (commercials included) made-for-TV movie set in the Star Wars universe.  It not only featured the original cast- Luke Skywalker, Princess Leia, Han Solo, Chewbacca, 3-CPO, R2-D2 and even Darth Vader- but it also featured a number of guest stars such as Art Carney, Bea Arthur and Harvey Korman.  However, finding copies of this holiday special might be a bit difficult, because it only aired once.  That’s right, one time.  Since then, it has never been rebroadcast or even given an official home video release.  It pretty much only exists in the form of bootlegs taken from recordings of the original broadcast, though you might be able to find it on YouTube.  For that reason, it’s a bit of a cultural legend. And it’s doubtful that there will ever be an official release of this addition to the Star Wars Mythos.  The Guardian, a British daily newspaper, once quoted George Lucas as stating “If I had the time and a sledgehammer, I would track down every copy of that show and smash it.”  Whether or not George Lucas actually said this is hard to say for certain.  But that should give you some idea of what we’re in for with this one.

We open with Han and Chewbacca on the Millennium Falcon, with them trying to evade a couple of Star Destroyers.  Apparently, Han is trying to get Chewbacca home to his native planet of Kashyyyk for Life Day.  What is Life Day, you might, ask.  I have no idea.  They never explain.  I gather it’s some Wookiee holiday, but we’re never told what it encompasses, or how it originated.  Anyway, Han eventually makes the jump to lightspeed.  Which triggers the movie’s introductionary segment.  And no, there’s no text crawl, even though there is a clearly fan-made one on the copy I got at a local horror movie convention.  It does, however, provide a rollcall of the characters that will appear, along with a list of the movie’s guest stars. Watching this intro does give you the impression that you’re about to see some kind of variety show.  In reality…..that conclusion is not far off.

Once the introduction is out of the way, we cut to Kashyyyk, the native planet of the Wookiees.  It’s here that we meet Chewbacca’s family.  Yeah, according to this TV movie, Chewbacca has a family.  I’m pretty sure this is why the movie Solo purposely left it ambiguous whether Chewbacca was searching for his family or his tribe, as I can see why some people might choose not to consider this movie as canon.  Just like how a number of Harry Potter fans choose to disregard the events of Cursed Child.  Anyway, Chewbacca’s family consists of his wife, Malla, his father, Itchy, and his small son, Lumpy. Yes, those are the names they decided to go with.  Though their full names are apparently Mallatobuck, Attichitcuk and Lumpawaroo respectively.  But since Chewbacca is sometimes called Chewie, I guess they decided to give the rest of his family nicknames as well.  But it’s really unfortunate that they’re such horrible nicknames.  Malla is okay, of course.  But Itchy and Lumpy?  Who came up with those names?

However, you might as well as get used to those names, as 95% of the movie focuses on these three.  Which would be fine, if it wasn’t for one pretty big oversight on the part of the crew who produced this movie- they made a movie that mainly features three Wookiees, but did not include subtitles.  So we just have to guess as to what’s going on.

Anyway, as best as I can tell, Malla is making some kind of Wookiee-version of cookies, Itchy is building a model X-Wing and Lumpy is playing with another toy spaceship.  When Lumpy tries to sneak one of the cookie-things, Malla steps in and I guess tells him the cookies are for later and whatnot.  So she makes Lumpy take the trash out.  While I realize they’re clearly trying to present Chewbacca’s family as a typical 50s style suburban family, this takes place on an Alien planet. Where the houses are up in the treetops. I can’t see a typical garbage removal service being utilized here, can you?

After Lumpy comes back inside, after messing about on the railing circumventing the wraparound porch/walkway, Itchy, in what I gather is an attempt to keep the little ragamuffin distracted for a bit and keep him from worrying about whether or not his father, Chewbacca, will make it home for Life Day, directs his attention to another one of those holographic chess boards that we saw on board the Millennium Falcon.  But it’s not so they can play a friendly game of Hologram Chess. Instead, Itchy inserts this disk into the console, triggering the first segment of insanity in the form of a holographic circus acrobats.  Yes, I’m completely serious.  For the next few minutes, we have to watch these little hologram people in bright neon colored costumes performing acrobatics, juggling and the like. Because when you think Star Wars, you obviously think about circus acrobats and jugglers.  

Eventually, this segment ends.  But when it does, Malla appears and gives Lumpy another chore. Which is a bit cruel, when you think about it.  We’re told that this is a pretty important Wookiee holiday.  But poor Lumpy isn’t allowed to enjoy it.  His mother just keeps giving him chores.  Imagine being a little kid waking up on Christmas/Hanukah/Kwanza/Some other holiday, only for your parents to have you vacuum the rug, fold the laundry and wash the windows.  Doesn’t sound fun, does it?

Anyway, while poor Lumpy is stuck doing the dishes, Malla and Itchy try contacting Luke through some TV monitor hidden behind their bookshelf.  They’re growing concerned that Chewbacca hasn’t arrived home yet and want to check to see how long ago he’d left.  At least, I’m guessing that’s what they’re doing.  When they contact him, Luke is in the middle of performing maintenance on his X-Wing with R2’s assistance.  Because apparently, the Rebel Alliance’s team of licensed mechanics are all on vacation. Luke, somehow recognizes Chewbacca’s family, which makes me wonder when Chewbacca had the chance to introduce them to each other. Now, those of you who are watching this special might notice that Luke seems to have gone overboard in the makeup.  This is most likely due to the bad car accident Mark Hamill got into around the time filming for A New Hope was wrapping up.  Chances are, his face was still healing when they filmed this holiday special, so the makeup crew were trying to mask the scarring. Then again, I could be wrong.

When Malla and Itchy convey the reason for their call, Luke is initially concerned, as Han and Chewbacca had left on schedule, so something might have happened to them on the way.  But Luke reassures the two Wookiees that whatever may have delayed Chewbacca, he’s sure to get there soon, as he hasn’t missed a Life Day yet. However, he then has to end the call abruptly because, despite instructing R2 to keep an eye on the X-Wing, he then proceeded to ignore R2’s attempt to warn him that smoke was starting to billow out of the engine they were working on until the situation grew even worse.

At this point, we meet another new character. This one is a human male called Saun Dann, played by Art Carney (who you might remember from the 1950s sitcom, the Honeymooners).  He’s some kind of merchant/trader.  When we first meet him, he’s working in his shop and servicing a member of the Imperial army.  Who clearly wears his Imperial armor even when he’s off the clock.  When Imperial Guy is still there, Saun Dann gets a video call from Malla.  Because I guess Han and Chewbacca were supposed to stop by his shop on the way to Kashyyyk.  Since the Imperial Guy is still in earshot, Saun Dann has to reassure Malla that Chewbacca and Han had recently left his shop and should arrive shortly through a coded message.  But the message is so obvious, a five-year-old could have figured it out.

Now it’s time for another cameo.  This time by Darth Vader.  Only not really.  What they did here was recycle some footage from A New Hope’s deleted scenes and have James Earl Jones dub over the short clip of Vader walking through the Death Star’s corridor.  And that’s it.  That’s pretty much all we get to see of Vader in this.  Sure, he does get one more line later on, but apart from that, Vader’s role in this special is over now.  That must have been a fun day for James Earl Jones.  He must have swung by the studio on his way to get a latte, recorded a couple of lines and grabbed his paycheck on the way out.

And now it’s back to the Wookiees.  Just in time to see Malla turn on some cooking show. Yeah, they have TVs and cooking shows in the Star Wars universe now.  This cooking show is hosted by Chef Gormaanda, some weird space lady with four arms.   She’s portrayed by the actor/comedian, Harvey Korman.  (Does this mean we had a Star Wars movie featuring a character who was a Transgender woman?) The meal that Chef Gormmaanda is preparing on her cooking show is called Bantha Surprise.  The surprise being that there’s an intergalactic trade on Bantha meat. However, the step-by-step instructions on preparing this supposedly popular meal quickly descends into pure madness.  Let’s just say I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d end up hearing the incessant chant of ‘stir, whip, stir, whip, whip, whip, stir’ echoing in your mind for hours after you witness this segment. Thankfully, Malla soon grows frustrated with the insanity and turns the cooking show off.  But if you think that was the low-point of the movie, then just wait until you see what comes next.

After some more stock footage is thrown in to show Han and Chewbacca are still having trouble with Imperial ships en route to Kashyyyk, the Wookiee family receives word that the Empire has declared martial law on their planet due to suspected Rebel activity.  Though, for some reason, they decide to pronounce it as ‘Ka-zook.’   Now, I readily admit that I spent years mispronouncing Yaven, but how do you get ‘Ka-zook’ from Kashyyyk?  Seconds after that announcement is made, that San Dann guy from earlier appears at their door.  He’s come bearing gifts for the family.  Along with continued reassurance that Han and Chewbacca will find a way to get past the Imperial patrol that’s now surrounding the planet.

So, what are these gifts?  Lumpy gets some kind of electrical transmission console that he apparently has to assemble himself.  Because kids LOVE needing to put their toys together before they can play with them.  Malla gets some box that will come into play later.  As for Itchy….um….

Yeah, Itchy gets this VR headset thing.  And when he puts it on, this image of a woman appears before him.  And she starts….well….talking to him.   Okay, there’s no point in denying it, so I’m just going to come out and say it.  It’s porn.  Virtual Reality porn.  Granted there’s no nudity or anything.  But just look at some of the things this VR woman is saying:

Oh, oh... We are excited, aren't we?

 Now, we can have a good time, can't we?

I am your fantasy. I am your experience. So experience me. I am your pleasure. Enjoy me.

If that wasn’t enough, there’s even one moment when Itchy is uttering some pretty disturbing sounds that only serve to reinforce what everyone but the most naïve, innocent person is thinking about the nature of this scene.  And just when your brain is starting to shut down, the Virtual Reality woman, who is portrayed by Daihann Carroll, jumps into a totally random musical number.  I swear, I’m not making this up.

Eventually, the VR woman’s song ends.  But the movie is not over yet.  Because we then cut to Leia who is busy doing….something or other. Maybe she’s filing her taxes.  Who knows?  Anyway, she’s accompanied by 3PO, who is trying to get a call through to the Wookiee household.  From what I can gather, Leia wants to discuss some Rebel Alliance business with Han and Chewbacca.  When 3PO successfully makes contact with Malla, Leia greets her and requests to speak to either Han or Chewbacca.  But Malla informs her, with 3PO acting as translator, that they haven’t arrived yet. Leia, like Luke was before, is concerned by the news of Han and Chewbacca’s delay, but she expresses her gratitude towards Saun Dann upon finding out that he’s keeping the Wookiee family company until Chewbacca and Han get there.  Basically, this scene doesn’t really contribute much to the story, but I guess they had to work in Leia and 3PO in somehow.  Although, we could really have used 3PO’s translation services a LOT sooner than this.

Once the call ends, we return to Han and Chewbacca, who have finally arrived at Kashyyyk.  But because of the Imperial ships surrounding the planet, Han decides to land on the North side of the planet.  It would mean that they’d have to have a long walk to Chewbacca’s home, but it would be much safer.  Down on the Wookiee household, Lumpy hears the sound of a ship flying overhead, which greatly excites him.   Thinking that his father has finally arrived, he runs to the door, with Malla and Itchy close behind.  But when they open the door, they are greeted by Stormtroopers, much to the alarm and fury of the Wookiees.

The Stormtroopers force their way inside, accompanied by two Imperial officers.  They quickly reveal that they’re searching the Wookiee household for members of the rebellion and they proceed to search the domicile for any indication, especially when their records indicate that another Wookiee male resides in the house. Gotta say, the Nazi undertone to this scene is rather hard to not pick up on.  Anyway, in what I gather is an attempt to distract the Imperials, Saun Dann activates the box thing he gave Malla earlier.  Turns out, the box contains a music video of Jefferson Starship, performing a song entitled Light the Sky on Fire.  And wouldn’t you know it, this music video successfully keeps the Imperials entertained for a bit.  

Once the music video ends, however, the Imperials practically kick Saun Dann out and continue to search the house.  When the Stormtroopers try to head up to Lumpy’s room, the little Wookiee tries to stop them, resulting in a brief confrontation between them and the Stormtroopers.   One of the Imperial officers steps in, giving Malla a thinly veiled threat by stating he can’t always control his men if they get angry. (Which means he’s admitting that he’s a lousy manager.)

So when the Stormtoopers proceed to continue their search upstairs, Lumpy decides to, I guess, keep his mind off the fact that Imperials are ransacking his room by watching cartoons.  Specifically a cartoon featuring a previously unseen adventure that Chewbacca had with Luke and Han. Yeah, this bit is a bit confusing.  If this scene is any indication, somebody is actually chronicling everything our heroes are doing while involved with the Rebel Alliance and animating it.  While using crappy Adobe Flash software.  This seems a bit risky, because what if one of these animated Starlogs gets intercepted by the Empire?  It could risk exposing the identity of Rebel spies and the like.

Anyway, in this animated short, Han and Chewbacca are supposed to be returning to the Rebel base with this talisman that allegedly can turn people invisible.  But when the Millennium Falcon appears on the scanner, it seems something is wrong with Han. When they try to contact the Falcon, Luke, Leia and some random guy who bears a striking resemblance to Dr. Robotnick see that Chewbacca is piloting the ship alone while Han is suspended upside down from the ceiling,   The Millennium Falcon then flies right past and ends up crash landing on a nearby planet called Panna.  Out of concern for their allies, Luke takes a Y-Wing down to the planet, with R2 and 3PO accompanying him.  When they land on the planet, in the middle of a red ocean, they get into a spot of trouble when Purplesaurus Rex appears and starts trying to eat the Y-Wing.

Out of nowhere, they are rescued by Bobba Fett. That’s right, everyone.  The Star Wars Holiday Special was the first official appearance of Bobba Fett.   Once Bobba Fett saves Luke and the two Droids from Purplesaurus Rex, he offers to help them locate Han and Chewbacca. Eventually, they find the Millennium Falcon and board the ship, just in time to see Chewbacca in the process of destroying the talisman he and Han were supposed to retrieve.  When Luke moves to stop him, he suddenly collapses.  R2’s sensors then pick up traces of a virus that seem to be emanating from the talisman.  It’s some kind of sleeping virus that only affects humans.  And the only way to keep the victims alive is by allowing the blood to rush to their heads, which is why Han was hanging upside down.

Bobba Fett, who apparently is kept safe from the sleeping virus because of his suit of armor, states that he can locate an antidote to the virus in a nearby city.  The Empire, he claims, frequently uses it on their enemies.  So Bobba Fett heads off, with Chewbacca insisting on tagging along.  When they get to the city, Bobba Fett manages to convince Chewbacca to hang back while he goes to retrieve the antidote.  While Chewbacca consents to this, he doesn’t seem very happy.  

Chewbacca’s obvious suspicion of Bobba Fett proves to be well-founded.  Because once he’s alone, Bobba Fett heads over to this randomly placed console and contacts Vader.  It comes out that Bobba Fett had been hired by Vader to gain Han and Luke’s trust and get them to bring him to the Rebel Base.

Eventually, Bobba Fett and Chewbacca return to the Millennium Falcon with the antidote for the sleeping virus, which they give to Han and Luke.  Upon waking up, the two men thank Bobba Fett for helping save their lives.  They then invite Bobba Fett to accompany them back to the Rebel base.  Thankfully, R2 and 3PO prevent that from happening, as they had unwittingly intercepted the transmission of Bobba Fett’s conversation with Vader.   As such, they expose Bobba Fett and Vader’s plan.  With his true colors revealed, Bobba Fett takes his chance to escape.   Once Bobba Fett gets away, Luke, Han, Chewbacca and the Droids head off to rejoin their friends at the Rebel base.  After Chewbacca states he’d suspected Bobba Fett couldn’t be trusted from the start because ‘he just didn’t smell right.’  For some reason, Luke and Han find this line hilarious.  I admit I fail to see the joke.

Once that animated short is over, the Imperials that are searching the Wookiee household return from searching Lumpy’s room. When Lumpy heads up to survey the damage, he finds the Stormtoopers had trashed the place, even ripping the head off his stuffed Bantha.  But that’s when he gets an idea how to get rid of the Imperials.  By utilizing the transmitter console Saun Dann gave him.  But before he can execute his plan, he has to put it together.  So he proceeds to watch the enclosed instruction video on how to put together the transmitter. Guess what, guys?  We get to watch this instruction video in its entry.  But wait, it gets even better!  Because the person walking us through the instruction video is a horribly malfunctioning android portrayed by Harvey Korman, the same guy who played Chef Gormmaanda.  And I’m not kidding when I say the Korman Bot is malfunctioning.  Because throughout the instruction video, we have to watch Korman Bot constantly needing to reboot himself, until he completely shuts down.

Now, you might be wondering why they got this Harvey Korman guy to take on two different roles in this holiday special. From what I’ve gathered, Harvey Korman was a pretty big comedian/actor back at the time this was made.  So maybe they felt that these segments he did would come across as funny.  Too bad it didn’t quite work out like that.

So, anyway, while Lumpy gets to work on putting together the transmitter, the Imperials who are continuing to keep the Wookies under house arrest.  Out of nowhere, a program of some kind begins playing on the Wookie Family’s big screen. From what I can tell, this is supposed to represent the fact that the Empire is a full-fledged dictatorship that strictly controls the sort of programs that appear on TV.  This particular Imperial approved program is entitled Life on Tatooine, which basically exhibits the daily happenings of people living on the desert planet. Sounds riveting, doesn’t it?

On this particular episode of Life on Tatooine, we revisit the cantina in Mos Eisly.  Apparently that barman from A New Hope has either retired or has the night off, because this time, the cantina is being run by a barmaid named Ackmena.  She’s portrayed by Bea Arthur.  As Ackmena is working, she’s approached by some humanoid Alien with six fingers on each hand and a volcano-shaped growth in his head.  (We later see that he drinks by pouring liquid into the volcano-shaped growth.)  This guy is called Krelman.  He’s played by- yeah, big shock, you’re never gonna believe this- Harvey Korman.  This guy must have been REALLY desperate for work after The Carol Burnett Show went off the air.

As this sequence plays out, Krelman attempts to flirt with Ackmena.  It turns out that Krelman had been at the cantina the night before, and when he left for the night, Ackmena bid him goodnight by saying ‘come back soon, I’ll be waiting.’  Krelman ended up interpreting that as a sign that Ackmena was expressing an interest in him.  And he spends quite a bit of time telling her how much her interest meant to him, completely ignoring her obvious discomfort and her continued attempts at just doing her job.  Obviously, this would be pretty crappy behavior of someone in real life.  Word to the wise, folks: don’t try to flirt and come onto someone who is at work and therefore cannot walk away, or interpret their attempt at being friendly as a sign of their interest in you.  Although, to Krelman’s credit, he realizes his mistake when he overhears Ackmena give the same farewell to another patron, leading him to understand that there really hadn’t been an alternate meaning to her words.

But this subplot isn’t over quite yet. Because at that moment, an announcement is made within the cantina that the Empire is introducing a curfew over the planet until further notice.  Which means that the cantina will have to close until further notice, I guess, since a good number of drinking establishments are only open in the evening. Because of this, Ackmena has to immediately close the cantina.  Except none of the patrons are very receptive to her efforts to usher them out.   After a few failed attempts, Ackmena gives in and decides to simply allow everyone to have one more round.  And she even has a whole musical number about it. Throughout the song, she slowly but surely manages to coax everyone to leave.  In the end, she is left alone to look around her now-empty bar, probably wondering when or if it will ever be allowed to open again.  However, to end the segment on a high note, we then see Krelman has remained.  And he offers Ackmena a flower.

When this bit of reality TV ends, Lumpy’s plan with the transmitter he’s been putting together becomes clear.  He ends up using it to send a fake transmission to the Imperials inside his house in order to make them think that they’re being summoned back to their base.  This plan ends up working perfectly.  But with one significant complication.  One of the Stormtroopers remained behind, so he’d be there to question Chewbacca when he shows up, as they suspect that the missing Wookiee male might be part of the Rebel Alliance.  And after the other Imperials leave, this lone Stormtrooper ends up figuring out what Lumpy did.  He proceeds to chase after the little Wookiee out onto the porch/walkway, but Lumpy is saved by Chewbacca and Han, who appear in the nick of time.  They manage to deal with the Stormtrooper, allowing Lumpy to be free to greet his father and psudo-uncle.  The three head back inside to tell Malla and Itchy (who were apparently sitting back and not doing a thing when the Stormtrooper chased Lumpy outside) that the threat was gone.

So Chewbacca reunites with his wife, father and son.  And Han, after paying his respects to the family, states he should head back to the Millennium Falcon before any Imperials could stumble across it. Shortly after he leaves, Saun Dann ends up coming back as well, for some reason.  He reappears just in time to help avert another mishap, as an Imperial Officer comes calling, instructing the Stormtooper that Han and Chewbacca took out to contact them immediately, as they cannot reach him by comlink.  Saun Dann manages to convince the Imperial Officer that the Stormtrooper in question had gone AWOL.  Which would probably be fine, but it does leave the question as to what will happen if the Imperial search party finds the body.  Let’s hope they hid it really well.

Eventually, Saun Dann leaves again in order to allow the Wookiee family to enjoy Life Day.  Once they’re alone, Chewbacca and his family bring out these glowing orbs that they lift up over their heads.  This somehow results in an acid trip, because we then see the Wookiees standing in front of a field of stars, dressed in red robes.  The image dissolves to show a procession of Wookiees walking into a bright portal-like light.  Instantly, we see dozens of Wookiees gathered in some kind of ceremonial chamber.  If you thought listening to Malla, Lumpy and Itchy roaring almost non-stop for almost two hours was bad, try listening to an entire Wookiee choir.

Out of nowhere, Luke, Han, Leia, 3PO and R2 appear in the ceremonial hall, joining Chewbacca and the other Wookiees.  3PO starts talking about how he and R2 wish that they were alive and not just mechanical beings so they would be able to share in the joy the Wookiees can feel on this occasion.  And then Leia addresses the Wookiees, talking about how the holiday might belong to them, but they all share the same feelings of hope for freedom from the Empire, and how they’re all united in the struggle against the powers of evil and darkness.  (And do the other Wookiees know who Leia is?  I can just see them all looking at one another, wondering who these people were and what they were doing butting into their celebration.)

And then, Leia starts to sing.  Yes, this movie features Carrie Fisher singing. Bet you’d never thought you’d see that. Once her musical number is done, the camera focuses on Chewbacca as he stares lifelessly into the camera as stock footage from A New Hope begins playing.  I guess the implication is that he’s thinking back on all the good times he’s had, but all this scene does is make us realize that we could have been watching a much better movie.

Now, you’d think the movie would end here, but I guess they just wanted to drag it out a bit more.  Because we then get to see Chewbacca sitting down at the table with Malla, Lumpy and Itchy, with the four of them preparing to enjoy their holiday meal.  It’s only then that the movie finally comes to an end.

And that, my friends, was The Star Wars Holiday Special.  Hope your brains haven’t completely turned to mush, because there are no refunds.  Sorry.

As a bonus to this review, since all existing versions of this movie are copied from recordings of the original broadcast, it comes with the commercials included.  While that might not sound interesting, watching the commercials that aired during that 1979 broadcast is a bit like opening up a time capsule.  Of course we get a few commercials for General Motors, most likely because that company sponsored this special.  But we also get a few TV promos for 60 Minutes, All in the Family, Alice, Lucy Comes to Nashville, Dallas, Dolly, Hot City, Bobby Vinton and Flying High, as well as movie trailers for The Wild Geese, The Wiz and what I believe to be the 1966 movie, The Bible.  There’s a few advertisements for medications like Anacin and Comtrex and food products like Pillsbury Plus cake mix and Hungry Jack biscuits.  Some of the commercials feature products that are no longer around, such as Reggie bars and Mercury Bobcats and Zephyrs.  But others are still recognizable today.  Namely the ones for McDonald’s Egg McMuffins and Woolite laundry detergent.  But I think the most interesting ones are for the women’s pantyhose.  We actually get two of them in this- Sheer Indulgence brand and No Nonsense.  That and the one for Bell telephones.  And we can also see the commercial that was responsible for the famous ‘Look for the Union Label’ jingle.  But of course, we also have to get a few toy commercials in for the kids, including ones for Trail Tractor (a toy where you drew a series of lines on a special placement and the toy car followed the line) and Tobor. The funny thing is, they only advertise the Star Wars toys at the very end of the movie, even though I’m sure a good number kids were in bed by this point, considering this special didn’t end until 9PM during the original broadcast.  While there were a few other commercials that aired throughout the holiday special, I think I covered the most important ones.  (Even though I don’t understand what a bald eagle had to do with Whirlpool brand appliances.)

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