#cause i beat up the guy instead of giving pages a fake without thinking about it

[waterlogged-detective]

🌌🎭!

Oc asks!!

🌌 If your OC has a nightmare, what’s it most likely about?

Doe doesn't actually have nightmares! Or I mean, I guess in a technical sense he does but he doesn't really find them scary? They're just dreams to him, fear isn't something he can really feel, unfortunately. It's to his detriment when it comes to things like dying, but beyond that...he'd just find a nightmare annoying honestly.

He dreams about water a lot though. The Zee and monsters under the waves. They feel familiar to him somehow. Melancholic.

🎭 What is the one thing your OC regrets most? Would they undo it, considering how their life turned out?

Canonically not really, beyond getting kicked out of the University. He's only really annoyed about that because it means he has to schmooze in order to get a lab before he gets kicked out again, and he *hates* everyone there. He's so frustrated by the fact that something that could do so much good, could teach so many people, is overrun with petty drama and infighting. His plan is to get a lab and then maybe blow something up to get fired.

Beyond that sometimes he tries to think if there was something he could have done for Beatrice so she didn't get murdered, but for now revenge will have to do.

[urimaginespimp]

How You Get The Girl (This Love Final Part)

Bucky x Reader (elemental witch)

Set on TFATWS last episode

Note: Thank you to everyone that's tuned in, gave feedbacks, and liked/reblogged. I had to so much fun writing these! After this I’ll be working on oneshots completely unrelated to this story of several prompts.

We got a new Cap!

Previous Part: Untouchable

Marvel Masterlist

--------

“I’m serious, Shuri. I am over him.” you groaned as Shuri won’t wipe off the smug, disbelieving look on her face.

“Sure, Jan.” She replied getting up to continue on what’s she’s working on.

“Hey, I know that reference!”

“I’m just saying... Seven years of pinning over the guy – which five of it was when he was practically dead, by the way – and you’re telling me it took one confrontation for you to get over him.” She shrugged.

Some of the Dora Milaje were also in the lab, and you haven’t been vocal about it, but you didn’t miss the knowing looks they’ve been exchanging every time Bucky was brought in the conversation.

“Well, it would really be nice if you’re being supportive right now.” you sulked in your seat. Yeah, who were you kidding. Maybe you’re not completely, completely over him, but now you’re sorting to the fake it ‘til you make it method and so far, you’re doing well.

“Okay, fine. Want me to set you up with someone? My brother has some contacts around the world and I think with some buttering up he’d consider setting you up to bachelor royalties.” She wiggled her brows at you.

“May I suggest the Prince of Brunei? The internet says he’s looking for a wife.” One of the ladies snickered, making the others hum in approval.

“T’Challa knows him?” this piqued your interest. “He’s pretty hot.”

“Well make up your mind. It’ll take me a few business days of persuading my brother.” She raised her brows at you.

“It wouldn’t hurt to start dating. I’ll think about it first.” you muttered, missing how Shuri winked at the other ladies in the room. Ayo had told her in private about Bucky’s little confession to Zemo, and the princess has a few tricks up her sleeve to speed up the matchmaking process.

“I’m only staying for a few days more. It’s been a few weeks and Val’s been complaining from lack of sleep.” She’s been taking over your nightly escapades, and it’s starting to irritate her to be surrounded with so much booze but not being able to indulge.

Just then, Okoye enters the lab. “Check the news. There’s a live coverage of a hostage in New York. Sam and White Wolf are on it.”

--------

Bucky was looking over proudly as Sam was talking to the Senator.

Seeing Sam now walking over to him, he straightened up and cleared his throat. “Sorry, I uh was texting and all I heard was um a black guy in stars and stripes.”

They both chuckled, now walking side by side. “Nice job, Cap.”

“Thanks.”

--------

He’s done it. He told Yori the truth. Though now that might have been the end of their friendship, he knew the old man deserves the closure for his son.

Now back in his apartment, he took the notebook Steve once owned from his pocket, and opened it to the page where his list is. Looking over it, he saw that the only name left uncrossed is yours.

Just then, his phone pinged twice. One message was from Sam, and the other one from Shuri.

Sam’s read:

I wasn’t kidding when I told you

back on the boat that I’d get the

younger ones here to give you a

crash course on romance.

Check your email.

He rolled his eyes and opened the one from Shuri.

Y/N’s explained everything to us.

We saw you save those people,

White Wolf. Wakand is proud of you.

Brother says you’re welcome to

visit anytime. Take care!

p.s.

It’s good to know Y/N and you are

are on good terms. It finally allowed me

to set her up with one of the princes

mother’s been pestering me about. One less

off of mother’s list for me.

“Damn it, Shuri.” he groaned, reading the last part over and over again. He had to move fast. Heading over to his email, he opened the one from Sam.

The subject says:

21st century romance for reformed dummies.

There was an attached 60-second video. Clicking on it, he chuckled when Sam’s voice started booming behind the camera, where it showed two young girls and one boy, all around below 10 years of age.

“Okay, I gathered you here today because a cyborg friend of mine is need of help. I already filled you in the details necessary earlier, and all you have to do now is give him quick tips. Remember, talk slow.”

The boy on the middle spoke up. “Is she an avenger?”

“Not important, but yes. It’s the one with similar powers to an avatar.” Sam answered, followed by the two girls saying they know which one, and the boy to mutter ‘damn it I always had a crush on her...’

“Okay the first step would obviously be to say sorry.” the girl on the right said directly to the camera.

“Oh! Extra points if you do it standing like a ghost outside her door and it’s about to rain.” the other girl from the left perked up.

“I said he’s a cyborg, not a weatherman.” Sam commented, still behind the camera.

“Say you were afraid to tell her what you want.” the first girl spoke again.

“Six months is a long time to be afraid, man.” the boy in the middle spoke up this time.

“Try years.” Sam muttered.

“Then you say you want her for worse or for better!” The cheery girl exclaimed once again.

“You’ve been playing too many fake weddings, but yes, that could work.” Sam told her, making her beam, showing a missing tooth.

“Tell her you could wait forever and ever.” the boy added.

“I mean he’s already old enough to be your great grandpa but go on I guess.” Sam was snickering, causing the camera to slightly shake.

“Remind her of how it used to be. That is if he was good to her.” the more mature girl was pointing out. “Saying you’ll put her heart back together could also work.” she smiled, and the other one fake swooned on where she was standing.

“She’s right!” she exclaimed, while boy nods and says “that’s how it works.” at the same time.

Now turning the camera, Sam was now in frame.

“And that’s how you get the girl, Barnes. Straight from the local’s experts. Don’t fuck it up.”

And three voices scolded him for saying a bad word as the clip ends.

--------

It didn’t take long for him to take a flight straight to Norway where New Asgard was. This time without the aid of Zemo’s jet, he had to find the means to travel from the airport, while trying to calm his nerves.

As if the universe was on his side, a couple claiming to be heading back to Asgard allowed him to hitch a ride with them.

Now on the backseat, he tried to make small talk.

“So, uh, how are you guys settling in the planet?” he asked.

The lady on the passenger seat turned to face him with a smile. “It wasn’t easy, really. But the princess went out of her way to educate us about life here on Midgard. She’s so good at it, you’d forget she hasn’t even been living here a decade.”

He smiled. They claim you as their princess despite only being adopted by Thor. He recalls how you once rambled about being scared that they’d be indifferent towards you once Thor brings you to Asgard, one of the reasons you’ve been making up excuses to go with him.

“Why, would you look at that. We’re just in time before it starts raining.” The man driving commented.

Peeking through the window, sure enough, the sky was getting darker.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” he muttered. He might just take the little girl’s advice after all.

After getting out of the couple’s car, he ran straight to where he remembers your home was, just in time when Val just got out of your house.

“Hi. I don’t think we’ve formally met. I’m Bucky.” He greeted extending his ahand to her which she took. A skeptical look on her face.

“Call me Val. I’m sorry what are you doing here?”

“I need to speak to Y/N, please.” He answered truthfully.

“Well it’s about night time so she’s getting dolled up.” She answered

“I know, I know, it’s for her date. But that’s why I’m here.”

Val raised a brow, confused about what date he was getting all bummed about when you were only getting ready to go back to looking out for people out and about at night. But then it dawned to her that maybe this was some of your friend’s doing.

“Y-yes... the date.” She decided to play along, holding back a smirk. Just then, rain started slowly pouring, along with thunder. “Well shit, I have to help some folks get their kids back inside their homes now. You’re free to knock on her door.” She excused herself.

His own clothes were starting to get drenched when he finally knocked on your door.

No answer. He knocked again, louder this time. Now footsteps were heard coming to the door, and the knob turned as you opened it.

“Damn it, Val, the door’s not even lo-” You stopped talking, surprised at the figure that greeted you.

“Bucky... are you insane? Don’t just stand there, come in it’s raining hard.” he urged him to get in and closed the door behind you.

Facing each other, he was taking you in. Val wasn’t lying when she said you were getting ready for your date. He can’t believe he was already getting jealous of a faceless punk.

“So uh... what brings you here?” You decided to break the ice, fidgeting where you stood, still barefoot as it looked like you were gonna have to stay at home if it was going to rain this hard all night.

“Don’t go on the date.” he pleaded, confusing you.

“What?”

“Please don’t go on the date.” He repeated, now walking towards you.

There is no date, but now you were wondering why he’s telling you not to.

“Why?”

“I love you.” he answered without missing a beat, now stepping closer to you. Instead of the reaction he was hoping for, you scoffed and took a step back.

“Don’t pull a Laurie on me.” you replied, a frown etched on your face. He was confused.

“A Laurie?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen enough adaptations of Little Women to know that you’re pulling a Laurie on me.” You spat as a matter of fact. “You’re being really mean, stop it.” you crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“What? I- I haven’t even thought of that reference!” he defends himself, cheeks reddening from embarrassment. “Amy was gonna get married, Y/N.”

“Oh then by all means, feel free to come back just after he proposes.”

“W- We’re getting sidetracked here, doll. I came here hoping there still an ounce of you that loves me. Please don’t tell me you’ve completely moved on from me.”

“What, like it’s hard?” you replied. It surprised you when his brows shot up from recognition of that line.

“Now you’re pulling an Elle Woods on me!” he pointed at you in an accusatory manner.

“Don’t point that finger at me, Barnes. How was I even supposed to know you’ve seen that movie?” you rolled your eyes, walking past him.

“I watched all the movies you told me about back in Wakanda.” he spoke up, making you stop in your tracks to face him again.

“Yeah, that’s right. I watched every movie, I listened to every song, read every book you recommended, and visited every internet site you once said I might like. I was always listening even when I made it seem like I wasn’t.”

You stared at him for a second looking for any indication that he was lying. Recovering from the mild shock, you pursed your lips. “I hope you know the Porn site was a joke. Sam did it to Steve once and I just thought it was hilarious.”

His mouth twitched. Walking over to you once more he stopped when he was only a step away, not breaking eye contact.

“I’m really sorry, Doll. I know it’s bold of me to even ask you, but please give me the chance to make it up to you. And I don’t care if it’s me that has to wait for you this time. Take all the time you need, just please don’t go on that date.”

“Bucky, there was never a date. I have no idea what date you were referring this entire time.” you confessed, making him bring his hands to his face and groan, muttering Damn it, Shuri.

Hearing Shuri’s name, you put two and two together. “Is this about Shuri trying to set me up with a prince?” he nodded as answer. “Well, I did tell her I was gonna think about it.”

He removed his hands away from his face. “Please say no.” He whispered. “I’d tell you what the kids told me what to say if I have to.”

“What kids?”

“Sam got a bunch of kids on video to teach me how to win you back. I’ve already stood under the rain outside your door just like what one of the girls suggested.” Judging from the grin on your face, he was now regretting even mentioning them.

“Well go on, then.” you urged. “Let me see how much you’ve learned.”

“The first time I saw you at the airport, I got so distracted looking at you just casually sitting on top if the ramps while we were preparing to fight. That wink you sent me that day is still engraved in my mind by the way. Then I was so taken back when you bluntly told me you’re attracted to me. I-”

“I don’t think the kids taught you to remind me of my attempts to flirt with you.” You cut him off, embarrassed at the memory. He chuckled at your expression.

“Okay, okay.” he took a deep breath.

“I think I started catching feelings for you the moment they woke me up from my cryosleep and you were there to be the first one to welcome me back. I didn’t think you were still gonna be there like you told me. But you were there, beaming at me like a ray of sunshine. All my years under HYDRA, every time I was woken up, I was only ever treated as an asset. But you welcomed me like I was a friend.” his eyes were starting to get glassy with tears, as he tried not to choke up.

“And then every time you were near, or even when I’d get a whiff of your perfume, I’d start feeling all warm inside and my entire body would be at ease, knowing you were an arm's reach from me. You were the last one I saw as I disintegrated from the blip, and you were the first one I sought out the moment we came back.” he was surprised when you reached forward to wipe away a tear he didn’t even realize had run down his cheek.

“I lied when I said I made a mistake kissing you. It was the first thing I wanted to do the moment I saw you again. But something inside me was always telling me that all I could ever be is someone grateful for your kindness. That it was impossible for the universe to even grant me someone like you after everything I’ve done." He let out a breath before continuing.

"But it was also you, Steve, Sam, and heck – even Zemo– that made me realize that I am worthy of a chance. And I’m sorry it had to take you telling me you were moving on, to have the courage to accept and take the chance that has been long offered to me by the world." He took your hand and gave the back of it a small kiss.

"I love you, Y/N.” Now it was him that had to wipe away your tears away. “Please don’t cry, doll. That wasn’t-”

“Just fucking kiss me already, James.” you laughed, in between sniffles.

He grinned down before you. “You’re my angel with a potty mouth, and I love you.” he whispered, leaning down.

“I love you too."

---------

You and Bucky were out with the Wilsons on their community's afternoon barbeque.

Sarah and you got along with ease, and she was telling you all about their old family business when Bucky hugged you from behind.

"Sorry to interrup, ladies, but I have to show you something Y/N." he said, kissing your cheek.

"Ew, man. I still can't believe your old ass has a girlfriend." Sam commented beside Sarah who was laughing

"You do know I'm older than him, right?" you chuckled.

"I know, but you don't look it." he replied, causing Bucky to flip him off.

Excusing yourself, both of you walked by the docs.

"What's up, old man?" you grinned at him.

"You know what, doll. Most couples would have endearing nicknames for each other."

"I'll call you something sweet once you tell me what that thing you call me when we're alone means."

"What, мое солнце?"

"Yeah, that one! Tell me or else I'll keep calling you ridiculous ones." you threatened, trying not to smile.

"Anyway, мое солнце, I just wanted to show you a text I got from Shuri."

I am yet to have any news that you

manned up and told Y/N you love her,

White Wolf. I was joking before, but now

I really might set her up on a date.

You both chuckled at Shuri's threat.

"I got this." you pulled your phone out of your pocket and dialled her number. You placed it on loud speaker once she picked up.

"Y/N! So nice of you to call."

"Hey, Shuri! Listen..." you feigned seriousness in your voice before releasing a deep breath. "I'm finally over Mr. Smokey eye. I think I'm ready to go on that date now." Bucky was playfully glaring at you for the nickname.

There was dead silence from the other side of the line for a second. "Oh! About that... uh turns out he already has a girlfriend. Planning to propose soon, I heard. Oops!"

"Well that's a bummer. How about the other bachelor royalties your family's friends with? I recently found an article with a list. I can send you one right now. Preferably ones that don't look much like blue-eyed grandpa." you grinned at him as he rolled his eyes. He knows what you were trying to get him to do.

"Uh... turns out my brother isn't that friendly after all." She let out an awkward laugh. "Hasn't Barnes contact you at all?" you could hear the frustration in her voice.

"Oh, that discount prophet, I haven-"

"It means my sun." He finally caved, rolling his eyes.

"What?" you asked him, immidiately forgetting that Shuri was still on.

"WHAT?" she screamed through the phone after a second.

"мое солнце means my sun." he grinned at you.

"Is that Barnes with you?! Hellooo?!!!"

"Talk to you later, princess." you turned off the call when she was about to protest. Facing him again, you stepped closer and put your arms around his shoulders, both of you sharing a grin.

"I love you, мое солнце."

"I love you too, minn stjarna."

"You gonna tell me what that means?"

"You wish."

fin.

--------

@eternalharry @iheartsebandchris @lizzarooni @the-ayo-lit @tanyaherondale @knowyourworth-sellyoursoul @eliwinchester-barnes @ebxny27 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @fadingdreamersportsmaker @drama-queen-aa

[wroteasongabouther]

can’t stand to see you lonely: part 1

a/n: oh my god guys it’s finally here!😬 i really hope i didn’t hype myself up too much and that you guys actually like it. overall i just wanted to put out a story that revolved around christmas and this is what i came up with! so without me babbling too much, i hope you enjoy part 1 of my new story and as always any feedback/reblogs are very much appreciated.

and of course, thank you to the lovely jess @arrogantstyles and jill @havethetimeofyourstyles for beta reading this part for me and giving this rusty old writer the help i needed lol

word count: 17k

warnings: mentions of alcohol, some sexual tension, and an over consumption of starbucks holiday drinks.

fic page // let’s chat // cstsyl playlist 

“What floor?” Harry asks, eyes stuck on the many buttons in the elevator instead of seeing who had entered the small space with him. He can tell it’s a woman, and they smelt lovely.

“Six please,” her soft voice replies.

Harry looks over his shoulder in what he hopes is a smooth motion to get a quick peek at who was behind that sweet voice. Her eyes were squinting slightly as she smiles at him. She must be my new neighbour, he thinks as he hits the number six button and it lights up before the elevator begins to move. He steps back, standing in the opposite corner of the young woman. Harry assumes that she is maybe a few years younger than him, but one thing he knew for sure was that she was very pretty. He may even say she was stunning. She's all bundled up with a long coat and a thick scarf as he guesses she had just gone out for some shopping, judging by the few large white paper bags hanging off her arm.

“Did you just recently move in?” He questions, catching her eyes switching from gazing at the wall to his own instead.

She smiles again and nods, “yeah.”

“I thought I heard someone move in beside me,” he exclaims. He was certain that someone had moved in beside him. It caused him a bit of a headache hearing all the moving around. And then on top of that, his new neighbour had decided to get right to hammering in on the wall they shared. Little did he know, there was a determined and beautiful girl on the other side.  

“Oh you’re my neighbour then?” She says, bringing Harry back from his memory of a few days ago.

“Harry,” he introduces himself, reaching a hand out into the space between them. She switches her Starbucks holiday cup into her other hand in order to shake his. Her hand is warm from holding the drink and it causes Harry's stomach to erupt with little bitty butterflies.

“Y/N,” she says in the same gentle voice as before. He wanted to hear her talk more. There was something about the soft tone of her voice, like he could listen to her speak into the late hours and early mornings and never once get tired of it. He blinks a few times and drops her hand at his intimate thought.

Harry didn't believe in love at first sight per say, but he was known to develop an infatuation of sorts very quickly. A crush as some would call it. Well, to be precise, Mitch teases him the most of his little crushes. There was that one time that Harry fumbled over his words over and over again when they had gone for dinner and had a rather attractive waitress, having asked for her number at the end of the night too. Mitch mocked him for days about it, asking if she had ever texted him back - she didn’t. And Harry didn’t even want to think about the time he spilled an entire blended margarita on his white vans when a certain handsome lifeguard had winked at him during their trip in LA last summer. Mitch still doesn’t let that incident go either.

The elevator doors open, and Harry gives her a smile and motions with a hand for her to walk out before he does. His mom must’ve raised him well, Y/N thinks at her new neighbours mannerisms. First holding the elevator for her, then offering to press the elevator button, and now letting her exit first. Suppose it was just minor things, but growing up in this lovely city that is New York meant she was used to the rudeness of people and sadly the simplest of gestures can make her heart beat just a bit faster in her chest.

“If you uh,” Harry pauses as Y/N stops at her front door but looks back at him as he speaks. Harry slows his steps to keep eye contact with her. “If you ever need anything, don’t feel shy to knock on my door.”

Y/N smiles again, nodding at his offer while she twists her key in the lock and opens her front door. Harry's walking backwards now, just a few steps to that same door he’s saying she can knock on. His eye contact is intense, but addicting, like every word she had to say to him mattered. His eyes are green, just green, nothing crazy and yet she found them very endearing. Would it be cliche of her to say she swore she saw them sparkle?

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you,” she says and before she can say anything else, she steps into her new apartment and shuts the door behind her.

Y/N finds herself standing there for a moment, remembering every word Harry had spoken to her as she slips out of her shoes. She then remembers his facial features while undoing her coat and hanging it up along with her scarf. The bit of facial hair he was sporting, how it seemed like it may have taken a while to grow so he kept it minimal. Or that little mole by his mouth, she even took note of that in their short time together. He had a cute nose too, she thinks. Harry takes up every inch of space in her mind for over an hour before she’s brought out of whatever dream state fog she was in. She lets out a deep breath and shakes her head a little before going about wrapping the presents she had bought earlier in the day while sipping her Christmas Starbucks drink, falling back in love with the holidays all over again.

“No, no, no, no,” Y/N groans as she twists and turns the knobs for her shower, and yet, nothing happens. Only a few drops fall to the tiled floor causing her to let out another string of curses. “This can not be happening,” she says.

But it was. Y/N’s hair was a mess, beyond greasy and a bit matted from her sleep last night. Not to mention she smelt like sweat from bringing up the box that held her new fake christmas tree this morning. She had been tempted to walk down the hall and knock on Harry's door, but she didn’t want to be annoying and fall into the stereotypes of the helpless young female living on her own for the first time. So instead she grabbed a cable knit sweater, tugged on her old dirty ugg boots, and went down in the elevator to meet with the Amazon delivery person. Little did she know that the box was way too tall for the elevator. So, she ended up bringing it up herself. All six flights of stairs, Y/N pulled and dragged that box up to her floor which caused her to break quite the sweat. Thankfully, it wasn’t so heavy, but she couldn’t help but think that she went through all of this just so she could get her new fake christmas tree up. Freaking fake! Not even a real one because apparently that wasn't allowed at her apartment building. Oh, how she was going to miss the smell of a fresh christmas tree. And oh, how she wanted to get rid of this disgusting smell of sweat she embodied now.

“Why me?” She winces, looking up at the ceiling and letting the glass door for her shower close as she gave up on the water magically appearing.

Is this the most appropriate time to not be shy and knock on Harry's door? Suddenly, her Apple watch vibrates, and she brings her arm up to see the reminder she had set before to tell her of the tight schedule she’s on for the day. With only 45 minutes left to get ready, she needed to get moving quickly. Y/N curses herself for wasting the past fifteen minutes on her phone, reading over her newest Instagram comments and aimlessly scrolling through her feed. So she tugs both sides of her purple robe that she had changed into anticipating a shower in her own home. Y/N pulls it tighter and ties the belt around her waist into a bow, and before she can give it a second thought, she’s out the door of her own apartment and starting down the hallway.

Harry didn’t know when he thought Y/N would eventually knock on his door. A part of Harry was hoping that she would have knocked sooner than a week later. But nonetheless, when there was a frantic knock on his door, he didn’t miss how his heart skips in his chest as he imagined Y/N standing on the other side. Peering through the peephole in his door he saw her standing there - in a bathrobe? Harry's brows pull together in confusion as he unlocks the door and heaves the door open.

“Is your water working?” She asks, her voice sounding as panicked as her knocking had been. But before Harry can answer she starts talking a million miles an minute. “Cause mine’s not, like not a single drop and I need to shower. So badly. And I know it’s probably super weird and rude of me to just bang on your door and ask to use your shower. Honestly, I can’t even believe I am but I am in such a hurry and I have the busiest day ahead of me with work and going to the-”

“Y/N,” Harry cuts her off abruptly. Y/N rolls her lips into her mouth and blinks up at him. “You need to use my shower? Is that what you’re getting at?”

Harry is a bit thrown off, not once did he think she’d come knocking for this reason. He glances down the hall awkwardly. He hopes that that noisy neighbour of theirs across the hall wasn’t peeping into their conversation, or seeing Y/N in this bathrobe. Mr Matthers can be a bit of a creep, Harry thinks. At the thought he hears a creak come from behind the door that’s across the hall.

She nods, “I know it’s like super strange to ask but mine is not working and I don’t have time to figure it out.” When Harry looks back at her, he notices she’s staring down at the ground between them, her eyes blinking rapidly as if she’s realizing what she’s gotten herself into. Harry didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable.

“S’alright, really, come in,” Harry says while opening the door to his apartment wider.

Y/N gives him a smile of appreciation before stepping into his home. The layout of Harry’s apartment is really just the opposite of hers, but the interior design he’s gone with is a lot better.

He’s gone for the classic monochrome look with blacks, white and greys. But with pops of colour where it matters, like a blanket over the back of his large L-shaped couch that looked handmade. She wonders if a family member made it, quite liking the light blues and pinks blended together. He’s got the same hardwood flooring like her own apartment and the plain off white paint on the walls - but with a few very unique paintings hung up on them. There’s two tall shelves, full of vinyls and novels and some picture frames too, that are on either side of his large flat screen tv which he took the time to hook up on the wall. It’s got a TV show paused on the screen, in her quick glance she can’t tell what show he was watching before she knocked but it looked like a cooking show. The corners of her lips twitch up into a smile at the thought of Harry being into cooking or baking maybe. He’s got a matching chair to his couch in the living room too that looks like she could fall asleep in it within a second. Overall it simply seems more grown up than her apartment - more put together and clean, that’s for sure.

To give her some credit, she has just moved in while she’s sure Harry’s been here for a while. Harry steps away from the door after locking it again, taking a few steps in order to be in her line of sight. With an arm thrown up, finger pointing down the hall, he gives Y/N another smile. He can’t help it, she looks rather adorable in that purple bathrobe. Was that all she was wearing? He thought to himself. He clears his throat as his mind goes on to imagine what’s under that plush purple material she’s wearing.

“Bathroom’s the first on the left,” he states, “did you bring your own soap or anything?”

“Honestly, no, I just kind of ran out of my place in quite a hurry and didn’t think twice as I got the sudden nerve to come over here.”

“Well, lucky for you I care about hair care, so there’s some good shampoos and even a nice hair oil to put into your hair afterwards when it’s damp. It’s in a small clear bottle with a white and gold label, by my toothbrush,” Harry explains. Y/N nods and starts towards the bathroom. With each step further into Harry’s home, she realizes what exactly she’s done. She can’t believe it really - just asking a complete stranger to let her shower in their home. She could be a murderer for all Harry knew, and he just opened his home up so freely. She steps into the bathroom, switching on the lights and the fan, she shuts the door and sighs. Lifting her arm up her Apple watch lights up to show the time. She had twenty minutes tops to shower, that’s all.

The bathroom is clean, very clean actually. Y/N lets her gaze wander around the space for a moment. There’s matching hand towels and all his skin and hair care are placed neatly on the small counter space too. She assumes he’s a bit of a neat freak. Turning to the shower, she opens the glass door gently and instantly reaches for the silver knobs. As she turns them water falls from the showerhead above her.

“Thank God,” she whispers while looking up at the water.

Y/N adjusts it to her preferred temperature and then she works on untying the knot of her robe. Words can’t describe how grateful she is that it held together in front of Harry. Him seeing her in the robe and with her hair in the state it’s in is embarrassing enough. Honestly, she can’t believe she even knocked on his door in it, and without any clothes to change into afterwards too. Stupid, she thinks while opening the glass door once more and stepping into the shower.

As Harry had said, there’s many bottles littering the built in shelves of the shower. Her fingers lazily turn the bottles so the labels face her. They’re all scented lavender of some sorts, helping with curly hair and volume. Well that explains why his hair looks so lovely, Y/N thinks as she opens a bottle of shampoo and squeezes it till a good amount falls into her other hand. As she hums ‘Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas’ she lathers up her hair and massages her scalp. Rinsing it out after and then doing the same with the conditioner. While she lets the conditioner sit in her hair she scans the few other bottles on the shelves for a body wash. She didn’t want to come out of the shower smelling like a pre-teen boy, but she also did not want to smell like sweat. Goats milk and lavender infused, Y/N reads the label of what looks to do a locally owned product. She can’t help but smile as she reaches for it and pours some into her hands before rubbing it over her skin. There’s something so sweet knowing that Harry supports local businesses. He really doesn’t seem like the guys that Y/N is used to.

Three sharp knocks on the door startle Y/N, bringing her out of her day dreams. She quickly brings her arms up to her chest, trying to save herself some modesty if Harry did walk in. Because of course she didn’t think to lock the door. God, what if Harry is a murderer? Y/N thinks. She doesn’t know him, he could very well walk in here with a large kitchen knife and stab her multiple times in the chest while the water begins to run red and she dies right here all because she thought his dimpled smile and green eyes were enduring. Didn’t she learn anything from the whole Ted Bundy thing? Hello, hot guy doesn’t immediately mean nice!

“Y/N?” Harry calls out from the other side of the door, raising his voice just slightly so she could hear it over the running water. She shakes her head from her ridiculous thought - no more Criminal Minds at night for her, she takes the quick mental note.

“Yes?” She responds.

“I just realized I didn’t give you a towel,” he says, his voice sounding strained as he closes his eyes and tries to not imagine his neighbour naked in his shower. Harry’s fist tightens around the towel as his mind ignores him and thinks of how the water is dripping down her skin.

“Oh, yeah,” she breathes out. Looking around the bathroom beyond the foggy glass. There weren't any towels that she could see. Maybe they were under the sink.

“So I uh, I grabbed one for you. I can just open the door really fast and drop it in, I wouldn’t look in I swear, I’d face the hallway and just reach through,” he clarifies, “wait, you locked the door didn’t you?”

“Actually, I didn’t,” Y/N says, “so yeah just drop it in, please and thank you,”

Harry nods, regardless of the fact Y/N can’t see him. He takes a deep breath before turning the doorknob and opening the door just a crack. The towel doesn’t quite fit through, so he opens it a bit more. His eyes are on the towel as he makes sure it gets into the bathroom. He notices the steam pillowing in the small space and just before he looks the other way, he sees Y/N’s purple bathrobe on the floor. Only her purple bathrobe. Harry swallows and drops the towel to the floor and quickly shuts the door again. Y/N jumps at the sudden slam of the door, her heart having been beating out of her chest as she stood under the warm stream of water and listened to Harry deliver the towel.

He spins around and walks away from the bathroom in a brisk walk, making it to his kitchen in record time. He takes a few breaths and blinks at the view from his kitchen window above the sink. It’s beginning to snow. Something tells him this will excite Y/N - just a feeling he has. He hardly knows the girl and he’s been conjuring up versions of her in his head these past seven days. He’d heard her play music through the walls Tuesday night, he recognized the artist after a few moments. Van Morrison, one of his favourites. What were the odds? He had thought. But then he quickly shut that thought down because many people liked Van Morrison, and just because his very cute neighbour liked the same music he did, that didn’t mean she was meant for him.

Then on Thursday in the middle of the day he had seen her running across the street from his apartment. One thing he loved about his apartment facing the front of the building is how he got to see people coming and going. That day it looked as though she was carrying a take out bag from his favourite restaurant. Again, what were the odds that she liked the same place? But again, he had another hard conversation with himself saying that it was a rather popular place in this area and lots of people liked to go there. Y/N was still a stranger to him. A naked and attractive stranger who was in his bathroom right now.

Harry breathes in deeply and leans both hands at either side of his sink as he watches the large snowflakes fall over New York City. He still couldn’t believe he lived here sometimes. Having grown up in a rather small town in Northern England, where the most exciting thing was the bakery he used to work in as a young teen or maybe the fun graffiti on some of the walls downtown, living in NYC always seemed a bit unrealistic to think of. But this was always a dream of his. To be in one of the biggest cities in the United States and doing what he loved the most.

“It’s snowing?” Y/N’s voice full of irritation catches Harry off guard. He turns around to see her standing in the threshold between his kitchen and living room. That purple robe, which would be making an appearance in his dreams he’s sure of, is back on her now clean body while the towel he had given her is wrapped around her hair atop of her head.

“You don’t like the snow?” Harry questions, both of his brows raised high at how off he was about his instinct of her loving the snow.

“No, I mean, yes I do,” she shakes her head slightly, “I just don't like driving it in. New York drivers already freaking suck and the moment snow starts falling it’s like they forget how to drive altogether.” Y/N explains, crossing her arms at her chest.

“It’s the same in London, nearly got into a few accidents in my early years of driving thanks to it,” Harry reveals. Y/N smiles at the knowledge about himself he had let slip, regardless of how irrelevant it is.

“Anyways,” she sighs, “thank you for letting me barge in here and use your shower.”

“It’s no problem, really,” Harry assures her.

“No seriously, you saved me a lot of trouble.”

Harry’s chest swells at her words, mirroring her smile as he stuffs his hands into the front pocket of his trousers and leans back against the edge of the counter. Y/N takes this time to look over Harry’s outfit. He’s got on a cream collared ribbed t-shirt, a beaded necklace adorning his neck, a pair of brown pants that flare out and nearly hid his white sock covered feet. He doesn't dress like the men Y/N sees day to day. It's different, kind of old school, but she likes it. Suits him, she thinks, despite the fact that she barely knows him.

“You’ve got to drive somewhere?” Harry questions, unsure if he’s prying.

“Yeah, JFK unfortunately,” she frowns.

“That’s going to be a nightmare,” Harry says.

“Thanks for the reminder, yeah,” Y/N teases him while fighting back the smile pulling at her mouth.

“Sorry, I just meant that it’s sort of a long drive and airport terminals are a pain, that's all.”

“I’m just bugging you. It most definitely is going to be a nightmare,” Y/N agrees with a chuckle, “and I’m going to be late if I don’t hurry.” She adds while jabbing a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of her own apartment. Harry nods and notices how her robe’s a bit looser than before as she drops her arms and it falls a few inches down her shoulder - exposing more of her soft looking skin. Harry has to look away and walk towards his front door with Y/N before his imagination gets the best of him.

Harry unlocks the door and holds it open for Y/N to walk out of his home. He liked having her in his space. Harry internally curses himself for yet another intimate thought about his neighbour fogs up his mind. Just as she steps over the threshold of his apartment, Y/N spins on her heels quickly and reaches up with both hands to grab the twisted up towel around her hair. Harry nearly comes undone right then and there. The sight of her wet hair falling down effortlessly around her freshly washed face causes Harry’s mouth to feel dry suddenly. But as she makes the move to reach up, pulling it off of her head, and then holding out the towel in front of her, all of this causes her robe to fall even more off of her shoulders. Now both of her shoulders were fully exposed for him to see. Which Y/N notices right away and blushes, rushing to try and readjust herself, then only holding the towel with one hand while she bares her other arm over her chest to keep the robe from falling open completely.

“Nearly stole your towel,” Y/N breathes out.

She’s distracted by how her robe is slipping apart and how Harry’s eyes are falling with it. Harry clears his throat and takes the towel from her, giving her a chance to fix her robe, and he leans against his door for support as his head spins from the scene he has played out in his head. Her robe falling apart, seeing the swell of her breasts, how her nipples must look. He imagines they’re hard from the chill in the hallway, pebbling into little buds. Then he’s imagining how he’d pull her back into his apartment, kissing and touching all over her skin till she’s left breathless and begging for more.

“Thanks,” Harry says and drops his arm to hold the towel down at his side.

“I owe you one,” Y/N states, “for letting me use the shower,” she adds. She’s not sure what else he would think she’s talking about, but she just felt the need to clarify. And she really needed to get back to her own apartment and finish getting ready. “See you around, Harry,” she says with a smile before walking away and hurrying into her home.

Harry thinks of how he should've wished her a safe flight, or even said goodbye. But instead he heard her door shut and followed suit by closing his own. Harry walks into his living room - discarding the towel on the back of his large arm chair, before moving his acoustic guitar from where it was laying on his couch and taking a seat. He then reaches for his cell phone that was left on the coffee table. Opening his contact, he finds the building's maintenance number and calls them.

“Hey Phil, how are you doing?... Good, I’m good yeah, uh, I’m just calling because the water in 602 isn’t working...Yeah Y/N, she actually had to leave in a bit of a rush, so I just wanted to make sure someone got in there as soon as possible to check it out,” Harry explains the situation to the building’s head maintenance man. “I’m not entirely sure when she’ll be back home, maybe you could give her a quick call and double check... Just being a friendly neighbour, Phil… Thanks Phil, have a good day and say hi to Georgia and the kids for me… Bye.”

Harry hangs up the phone and sets it back down onto the table, looking at the open notebook beside it. He hadn’t written anything all morning. Just had a few good cords stuck in his head. Harry picks up the guitar once more and plays the cords.

“Tangled wet hair, soft silk skin, looking so good it should be a sin,” Harry sings softly. It’s not his best and it’s not even that good, if he’s honest with himself. But it seems that Y/N sparked some inspiration inside of him. He grabs his pen, and starts scribbling down the words that now flow through his mind. Finishing with writing ‘Plush Purple Robe’ in capital letters before dropping the pen and going back to strumming the guitar.

He wrote nearly an entire song, thanks to how Y/N looked in that damn bathrobe standing in his apartment, and he just knew this would result in some teasing words from his friends when he brought it into their studio session next week.

Y/N was tired and her third Starbucks of the day wasn’t helping her out at all. She brings a hand up to cover yet another yawn that escapes her. Her eyes feel heavy, drooping as she blinks slowly a few times at her screen. She feels as though she might doze off if it wasn’t for the loud bang of the mail cart smacking against the elevator doors signalling it’s arrival for the day. It jolts her upright once again and she takes another big gulp of coffee, and sends a prayer up above, before she begins clicking away again at her laptop trying to finalize her schedule for the upcoming month of December.

Fittings, photoshoots, buyers meetings, and more fittings, there was rarely any free time in the first two weeks of the month. But thankfully her boss isn’t a complete Grinch and gave her minimal work during the last two weeks. Plus Y/N really did love her job. She lived for the magic world of fashion. The way her bustling office just meant that the designer’s creations were coming to life as A list celebrities and New York's elite fell in love with the pieces she’s gone through lengths to get for them.

She also loved Christmas just as much, if not more, as her job. Even thinking about everything she was looking forward to this holiday season made her feel all giddy inside now. Growing up in the city meant she knew the thrill of skating in Central Park and seeing the Rockefeller Christmas tree being lit up. Her smile was as bright as the lights. She loved going to the annual Christmas markets that were held; walking around with hot chocolate in her hands as she browsed the many homemade soaps and ornaments, and even clothing too. Y/N even enjoyed shopping at the Macy’s down the street and gasping at their holiday displays, and found herself buying a few too many decorations for her home while there. Over the past few days - with any free time she had off work - she had gone into full blown decorating mode in her apartment. It was like Santa’s village and it filled her with so much joy as she set everything into its rightful place in her new home, smiling from ear to ear at the twinkling lights and tinsel lining the perimeter of every room.

“Earth to Y/N,” her co-worker, Sammy, sings while leaning back in his desk chair to try and make eye contact with her.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, zoning back into reality and turning her own chair away from her desk that was up against the large floor to ceiling windows.

“Daydreaming about that hot new neighbour of yours?” Sammy teases her with a smug look on his face. Y/N rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest.

“No, I was not,” she says, “I’m regretting telling you about him already,” she adds. Sammy returns the eye roll.

“There’s no shame in having some eye candy as a neighbour you know,”

“Yeah there is when-“

“Y/N!” Her name suddenly being yelled across the room cuts her sentence off and makes Sammy and herself look over to where it came from. They both see their boss, Amanda, standing in the doorway of her office with both hands up in the air and a look of annoyance across her face. Y/N’s watch vibrates just on time to remind her of her meeting with Amanda. She’s always at least five minutes early; suppose daydreaming about the holidays - not her hot new neighbour - had put her behind schedule a bit.

“Better not keep her waiting,” Sammy says as he rolls his chair back over to his own desk while Y/N closes her laptop, taking it and a notebook with her quickly before slipping her feet back into her black heels. She always took them off when she sat at her desk to give her poor feet a break. As she broke into a speed walk across the office space, nearly avoiding the mail cart, she internally went over what today's meeting entailed.

“Sorry Amanda,” Y/N apologizes as she steps into the office, closing the glass door behind her quietly.

“It’s alright, you’re rarely even a few minutes behind that schedule of yours, so I was more surprised than anything,” Amanda states as she smooths her dress out and takes a seat at her desk. Y/N takes a seat in the chair across her desk, setting her laptop on her lap and then the notebook on top of it while she keeps her favourite pen in hand. It had a cheesy Christmas sweater snowflake pattern on it, which Y/N had bought a whole set for her and Sammy at Target last week.

“I wanted to quickly talk about your time with Miss Woods a couple days ago,” Amanda says, referring to one of the clients from North Carolina that had visited recently. “She said you showed her great hospitality and were a true New Yorker in her eyes, her words exactly.” Amanda gives Y/N a proud smile. “So, great job. She ended up purchasing those Gucci purses we had bought in hopes she’d like them even though she didn't ask for them. All thanks to you putting her in such a good mood, really.”

“Well she was a blast to be around, age really didn't slow her down,” Y/N and Amanda share a laugh. “She turned up my radio every time we got in my car, ordered doubles at dinner and brunch, and even talked about boy issues with me. It was a great time,” Y/N explains while adjusting herself in her seat and crossing a leg over the other casually.

“I think it’s your energy. Your love for this city can be infectious sometimes Y/N,” Amanda says. Y/N’s lips pull up into a smile at her words, they made her feel warm inside.

“Thank you,” she says softly with a nod.

“Now, onto what’s happening over this next week, let’s see how our schedules look,” Amanda starts as she opens her large planner than was always either on her desk or brought home in her large Louis Vuitton purse.

“I got an email from the lovely Mrs. Archibald this morning,” Y/N states. Amanda shakes her head as her face twists up at the mention of one of their bigger clients who happens to be married to the richest man in New York City. It’s just too bad she’s a real bitch sometimes because her attitude could make doing their job a bit harder at times. But Amanda and Y/N loved a challenge, and Mrs Archibald was just that. “She has a last minute dinner party tomorrow and she needs the newest item from Gucci that we can find immediately,” Y/N explains.

“Shit, our new stuff from Gucci doesn’t come in till next Monday,” Amanda curses, eyes roaming around her desk as if the answer to her problem would pop up somewhere.

“I know, which is why I went ahead and called Greg at the store on Fifth and Fiftieth, he said they just got a handful of exclusive holiday pieces early and would gladly have one of us pick a couple items up for Mrs Archibald,” Y/N says. Amanda’s sour look fades instantly and is replaced with a wide smile.

“What would I do without you, honestly!” Amanda exclaims. “Head over to Gucci after lunch today, and then we’ll get Mrs Archibald in first thing tomorrow.”

“Will do,” Y/N says while jotting down her after lunch plans onto a blank page in her notebook.

“How’s your influencer work going for you?” Amanda asks, her eyes on her planner in front of her instead.

“It’s been good, getting closer to five hundred thousand every day. I think the holidays will push me over the mark soon enough,” Y/N states.

“Great, make sure you’re getting close up shots of the dresses Greg shows you. Tease the people of what an exclusive holiday gown looks like,” Amanda suggests. Y/N smiles and jots down the note.

Having an audience was never the goal for Y/N. In fact, she thought of suspending her Instagram account all together once she got the promotion at work. She was worried that it would cause a conflict of interest, but Amanda and the rest of the team saw it as a plus. Having so many people follow Y/N’s life, being interested in what she’s interested in, wanting to get their hands on what she had, all lead to good publicity for the company. It even got them a few A list celebrities because of her account as they saw the company’s name in her bio, which led to contacting the company about setting some fittings up.

And with that set up, they settle into the rest of their itinerary for the week, making note of who needed to be involved with what, and who would be coming into their offices. Jennifer freaking Aniston was scheduled for a fitting this Friday and Y/N was praying she made it back from picking up an order of Louis Vuitton scarfs in time to see her in her custom grown that their team's seamstresses had been working tirelessly on with Prada’s team.

By the end of her and Amanda’s meeting, it was time for lunch. Sammy was waiting by her desk with his black Gucci backpack in hand that Y/N was sure held a Kardashian sized salad. Y/N was glad she meal-prepped teriyaki chicken and rice, so she didn’t have to eat yet another salad seeing as Sammy had gotten her into the over sized salad eating last month; she’s had enough of it.

“I’ve gotta head over to Gucci on Fifth Ave after,” Y/N states with a smile as her and Sammy walk into the conference room that they used for lunch sometimes, shielding themselves away from work a bit - even if the walls were glass and they could still see everyone working around them.

“Lucky bitch,” Sammy grumbles, “Greg always hooks you up with some free pieces when you go there, I swear.”

“Hey it’s only been a few items, nothing crazy,” Y/N defends herself before taking a bite of her lunch.

“Oh I’m sorry, two rings and a pair of tights are nothing crazy? Every other influencer would kill someone for those tights. Firstly, they’re so cute. And secondly, those rings cost my monthly rent.”

“I’m not complaining about any work perks. Maybe you could come with and get to know Greg a bit and get your own ring or two?”

Sammy chews his mouth full of salad, “no thanks, it’s so freaking cold out there. I’ll stay inside where it’s warm,” he says.

“Then don’t complain when I get another pair of tights and you don’t,” Y/N scowls playfully.

“I’d look so much better in those tights, you can’t even deny it,” Sammy says and pokes his fork at Y/N. She raises her hands up in surrender.

“Oh I wouldn’t dare to deny it, ever,” she smiles. They eat a few bites in silence. Y/N starts to feel a bit more energized by the protein she’s eating, thankfully. She now had a long journey to the Gucci store and back as well as a ton of emails to filter through too - which she’s sure will follow her home till the late hours of the night.

“What are you planning to wear for the Christmas office party?” Sammy chimes in, his eyes still on his phone.

“I don’t even know,” Y/N sighs and brings up her Pinterest app on her phone. “I found this outfit and am dying over it every day but I really should just find something in my closet and restyle it, I'm getting more broke by the day.”

“Blame your excessive christmas shopping habits,” Sammy deadpans while glancing at her phone screen.

“I’m aware of why I'm broke, thank you,” she deadpans back, narrowing her eyes at him. “Maybe Greg will have it in his heart to lend me a special piece for the party,” Y/N taunts Sammy with a smile on her face.

“Shut up,” he groans. Y/N laughs and is just about to shut her phone screen off when a phone call comes through from her apartment building maintenance.

“Hello?” She answers. “Hi Phil… Oh that’s awesome news thank you so much for getting it fixed so soon… Yes, I’m glad Harry called in about it right away too…” Y/N notices how her friend's eyebrows fly up at the mention of Harry’s name. “Lovely, thanks again Phil… Have a great day… Bye,” she hangs up the phone and sets it on the table in front of her.

“What did Harry do now?” Sammy questions without a second to spare. Y/N rolls her eyes, but can’t stop herself as she smiles.

“He called in about the water in my apartment like right after I made a mad dash out of his place to go pick up Mrs Woods in time. I hadn't even thought of calling about it and then I got a call on my way to the airport from the head maintenance guy saying Harry told him about it and asked for verbal permission to enter my apartment while I was out,” Y/N explains to him. She was still shocked by Harry’s kindness. Not only did he offer his shower to her, but he then got hers check out that same day. She probably wouldn't have called about it till the next day, if she was lucky to have any free time to stop by her house between entertaining Mrs Woods.

“What a neighbourly thing to do,” Sammy says smugly.

“Shut up, he’s just a nice guy.”

“Mhmm,” Sammy hums while stabbing his salad again for another bite.

The two of them continue to enjoy their lunch break and catch up on what’s been going on in the office. Their fellow associate Kate was trying to sleep with the mail cart boy. He seems freshly twenty one, if that. Just seven years younger than Kate, but she’s a well known cougar - it’s been a thing for, like, two years now. And Julianne was sick again, for the third time in two months. That was the extent of the office drama, sadly. Y/N packs up her bag with her left over lunch, notebook, and laptop before heading back to her desk with Sammy to get her coat and bundle up to brace the cold weather.

At least it wasn’t snowing.

The snow is coming down like a blizzard, making it hard for Harry to see in front of him. It was a colder day, his weather app had called for cloudy skies and a chance of some light flurries - but that all changed  in a split second and had Harry racing home from the coffee shop a few blocks away. He’s just praying his notebook full of new song ideas, based off his people watching this afternoon that’s now in his tote bag, doesn't get wet in the short trip he has to walk. Just as he’s about to turn left down the last block till his building, he sees a young woman struggling to walk along the sidewalk in her heels just in front of him. She’s carrying a large beige garment bag, having it folded over her arm as she tries to maneuver around the busy sidewalk and everyone is rushing to get out of the storm. Harry’s just behind her now, that’s when he recognizes the jacket and scarf.

“Y/N?” Harry says, trying to not startle her. But of course, as Y/N turns around to look behind her at whoever had just called out her name on the busy streets of New York, she slips.

“Oh my god!” She squeals, trying to keep the garment bag up so it doesn’t damage the dresses inside, but that means she doesn’t have any hands to throw out to catch herself. Harry sees her begin to fall and reaches out without hesitation. “The bag,” she says, trying to get Harry’s attention to saving the garment bag rather than her. But of course he manages to wrap his arms under hers and hold her upright, standing straight to get her back on her feet once more.

“Shit, I’m sorry, shouldn’t have scared you like that,” Harry says.

Y/N squints at him through the thick snowflakes, he’s standing so close though that she doesn’t have troubles staring into his enchanting eyes. She smiles, adjusting the dresses and her bag before motioning to their apartment building only a couple blocks away. “Let’s get out of this snow storm,” she suggests.

“Right,” Harry agrees and lets her start the walk - that way he can stick close behind in case those death heels of hers cause her to slip again.

Y/N regrets her decision of wearing heels so much right now. She’s sure her cheeks are still red from embarrassment of nearly falling on her ass in front of so many people. Harry’s seen in her purple bathrobe, which is already  embarrassing, but falling in heels in this snow storm would’ve only added to her list of making a fool of herself in front of him.

When she arrived at Gucci it was  just cloudy, but then after nearly two hours inside the store - mostly chatting with Greg and his associates, she walked outside into the blizzard. Her office was too far of a walk, she knew getting a cab or an Uber during the storm would just be a nightmare  and she didn’t want to wait around. There was no way she was going to risk taking the subway while carrying the garment bag that said Gucci right on it and have some lowlife steal thousands of dollars of designer clothes from her. So, she went with the most obvious option of getting these pieces out of the snow storm and headed  to her apartment building that was only a few blocks away, thankfully.

“Thanks for saving me back there,” Y/N says with a sigh as Harry uses his key to let them into the building. They both brush the snow off themselves as they walk across the lobby and to the elevator. “I would've been dead if this fell into a puddle or something,” she states while lifting the garment bag.

“Does that say Gucci?” Harry asks, eyebrows raised as he looks at the label on the bag.

“Yeah, I just had to pick up a few things for work,” Y/N explains vaguely. Harry has followed Gucci on Instagram for years, he loves their pieces and finds what they make to be so wonderful. He wishes he had the money to spend on a shopping trip there and yet here is his neighbour - who he may or may not be crushing on - with a large garment bag with Gucci items inside. “I can’t even imagine what Mrs Archibald would've done if I messed these up, god she'd have a fit,” Y/N says with a chuckle, looking at the floors lighting up as the elevator moved.

“Your boss?” Harry questions.

“No, a client, super rich and super bitchy,” Y/N answers, emphasizing both times she says super to really get her point across. She moves the garment bag from one arm to the other, leaning back against the elevator wall.

“Client? What kind of work do you do?” Harry tries to ask casually, not trying to seem creepy or invading in any way.

Y/N smiles, “I’m a part of the, oh so lovely, fashion industry.”

“You don’t like it?” Harry questions, eyebrows furrowed together.

“No, I do,” she corrects him.

The elevator opens then, Harry motions for Y/N to exit first as he had before. She smiles and walks down the hall to her apartment. Just as she fishes her keys from her coat pocket she turns back and looks at Harry when he walks past her. “I owe you, again, for saving my ass, literally from falling,” she says. Harry stops walking and looks at her, she smiles and tilts her head to the side. “And for calling the maintenance guy for the issues with my water,” she adds. Seems Phil spilled the beans, Harry thinks.

“I um, I wasn’t sure how long your trip was, and I just thought it’d be the nice thing to do by making sure they could get it fixed as soon as they could,” Harry explains.

“I actually didn’t go on a trip, I just had to pick someone up from the airport. But regardless it was very nice to know you thought of it for me. So thank you, I owe you, Harry,” she says again, giving him yet another one of her dreamy smiles. Harry’s heart did a little pitter patter in his chest as he looked over her face, taking in how her wispy hairs were wet from the snow that had melted on her head and how her eyes seemed to sparkle under the dim lighting of the hallway. But her lips, he’s been imagining those lips for two days now. Along with that purple bathrobe being on his floor again - his bedroom instead of the bathroom though.

“How about dinner?” Harry blurts out. Y/N had turned back to her door, having it unlocked and open as he had fallen into one of his daydreams about her. She pauses mid step and looks back at where he had stood still, her eyebrows are furrowed together as she thinks he misheard him. Oh shit, abort! Abort! Backtrack and say nevermind before she flat out rejects you, Harry thinks while he waits for her response.

“I, uh, I,” Y/N stops her stuttering and closing her eyes for a moment. She lets out a sigh and opens her eyes again to meet his nervous stare. “I have to hang this up, and change these shoes first,” she says.

“Of course,” Harry nods.

Y/N ponders over it for a moment before coming to the realization that the weather outside was truly frightful and they shouldn’t go out anywhere. “Honestly we shouldn’t go back out there. What if I just ordered something in and you came over? You like pizza?”

“Love it,” Harry smiles. Y/N nods and opens her door further, stepping in to survey the state of her apartment. It’s not messy, thank God. She had time this morning to put away her clean laundry that had taken up her couch over the past few days. There’s a couple hoodies draped over the back of the couch though, a half full glass of water on the coffee table and her kitchen has a pile of dirty dishes beside the sink that she hadn’t gotten to putting in the dishwasher yet. She quickly bends down to put away the few pairs of shoes that were kicked off in whatever direction they went, and turns on the two light switches by the door to light up her living room and hallway.

“Well, come on in,” she says as she turns back to Harry. He smiles as she lets out a deep breath and opens her front door for him.

He should’ve guessed that it would look like Santa had thrown up in her apartment. It was traditional, which Harry loved opposed to the new all white or all gold themes some people went with, but there was a lot of it. A red and green checkered throw blanket over the back of her grey couch, a decent sized tree filled with lights and tinsel and ornaments that all matched, a family of snowmen in one corner of her living room, and many little vintage looking nicknacks along her tv stand, and few shelves around the space. Not to mention the priceless looking tiny christmas village that was set up on top of the desk by her front door, fake snow laid on top to really pull it all together. So much Christmas, and he was only looking in one room. He imagined this festive feeling went throughout her entire home.

“It kind of seems like a lot whenever someone new sees all of my Christmas crap,” Y/N says, breaking Harry’s stare away from her living room and back to her now. She had hung up the Gucci bag on the closet door to her left, and had slipped out of her shoes and was now undoing the buttons of her coat. Her eyes are on the decorations around them though, looking unsure as she takes it all in.

“It’s lovely, honestly, not crap at all,” Harry assures her. Y/N turns back to look at him and mirrors his smile.

“I just have a big soft spot for the holidays, I can’t help myself from buying four Christmas themed throw pillows if they make me feel all warm inside,” she explains, motioning to the couch that did in fact have four pillows on it.

“If it makes you happy, you don’t have to have any reason for buying ‘em.”

“I suppose so,” Y/N hums, finally taking off her coat and hanging it up.

Harry quickly takes his off too as she reaches for it, to hang it beside hers. He gives her a small thanks and then takes his shoes off, setting them beside hers . Y/N has walked into the threshold to the left that led to her kitchen. He notices the tinsel hanging from the beam and smiles before taking a quick peek into her kitchen. As he guessed, it’s all decked out in Christmas stuff too. Towels and nicknacks that seem to replace everyday things like salt and pepper shakers and her soap dispenser that was spaced like a snowman.

“I’ll order a pizza right away. Hopefully this weather won’t slow them down. Have you ever eaten at Sal’s down the street?” Y/N questions.

“Tons,” Harry says. He leans against the threshold to the kitchen and watches as Y/N sets her purse on her small kitchen table and fishes through it for her cell phone. She’s got this crease between her brows as she can’t seem to find it, but it instantly goes away and is replaced with a smile as the iPhone is in her hands.

“Do you like anything on your pizza?” She asks, eyes on her phone screen and she brings up the menu. She typically just gets a cheese, sometimes spices it up with a vegetarian pizza cause she likes the green peppers and red onions.

“I’m actually a vegetarian,” Harry states. “Well, I eat fish on occasion so I guess I’m a pescetarian.”

“Oh cool,” Y/N says, looking up to see Harry’s watching her from the space between her kitchen and living room. The way he’s leaning against the small space of wall, arms crossed at his chest and head tilted to the side - he looks good. He’s dressed in a pair of beige trousers, straight and baggy as his last ones were too, and has a white tank top tucked into the waistband while he layered with a fun patterned button up shirt. She can’t quite make out what is printed on the shirt, but the little squares seem to each have a picture in them.

“Where did you get that shirt?” Y/N can’t stop herself from asking, the fashion lover in her wanting to know.

Harry glances down at the short sleeved shirt on his body, then shrugs, “I think I thrifted it back home in England a few years back,” he says.

“I like it,” she says, then brings up one shoulder in a shrug to make it seem more casual. It’s not weird to compliment your neighbours clothing, Y/N thinks as she glances back down at her phone. “I’m going to order a cheese and they have a great vegetarian pizza too that I like,” she tells Harry while punching in her order on her delivery app.

“Yeah, I’ve had it before, it’s pretty great,” Harry agrees. Y/N can’t help as her body reacts to how low and slow Harry’s voice is. How she gets small chills throughout her body, as if threatening to pebble goosebumps along her arms, and how her mind feels foggy almost as she listens to him speak. She rolls her lips into her mouth and stuffs her phone into the pocket of her fitted black pants. He could tell her the most pointless story and she would let him, just to hear his voice and that accent that went with it. Moving to her fridge, she finds the bottle of red she had opened last night. It’s such a normal thing for her to have a glass or two after work that she doesn’t even think of her guest. He might not even like wine.

“Do you drink?” Y/N asks, looking over her shoulder to see Harry still in the same spot but his hands now in the front pocket of his trousers.

“What are we drinking?” He asks with a smile.

Y/N smiles back, as she always does, and reaches for the wine she had her eye on. “I opened this bottle of wine last night, it’s red. Would you be interested in a glass?” She asks, holding the bottle up for Harry to see.

“I’d love a glass, thanks.”

“Perfect,” Y/N nods and sets the bottle down on the counter beside her fridge. “You can get comfortable on the couch, I’ll bring our drinks in a moment.”

“Sounds good,” Harry nods. With one final glance up her body as she reaches high in her cupboard for two wine glasses for them, he shakes his head and turns around. He has to stop checking her out, he has no idea if she’s into him or not. She’s simply being a nice neighbour, and here he was, fancying her so much he’s checking her out like some horny teenager.

Harry runs a hand through his hair, walking around the back of the couch to take a seat on the corner furthest from where the Christmas tree lit up Y/N’s living room. He really did like all of her joy that she’s put into decorating her home. There’s no doubting her love for the holiday, not a single space feels like it was forgotten as she must have spent all day setting it up. He especially liked the framed photo on the side table to his right, where there was also a rather plain lamp and a Santa spaced coaster too. Inside the frame was a small child who he knew immediately was Y/N. There was no mistaking that smile of hers even at such a young age. She’s sitting on a man’s lap, a man dressed as Santa, but it’s truly the most realistic mall Santa he’s even seen. Harry thinks back to his home in that moment, imagining the many photos of him and his older sister with many variations of mall Santas that must be littering his mum’s house by now. Truthfully, many of them didn’t leave the shelves during the year.

“Here you go,” Y/N says as she holds out a wine glass nearly half full of red wine to Harry. He takes it from her, his fingers brushing hers for a moment and sending those childish tingles through his body.

“Thanks,” he nods and brings the glass to his lips to have a taste. If he wouldn’t be so infatuated by Y/N, he would have told her that he typically didn’t drink red wine. He typically doesn’t drink at all, except for the occasional night out with his mates. But he saw that look on her face that said ‘I need a glass or two’ and he couldn’t say no, knowing it’d make her feel awkward and  end up not having a glass herself.

Y/N lets out a long sigh as she takes a seat on the other side of the couch, relaxing alongside Harry as if they aren’t complete strangers. He liked that she felt comfortable around him. She did in fact enter his apartment the other day in a bathrobe and use his shower after all. After she takes another long sip of wine, she sets it down on a matching Santa coaster that sits on the coffee table - Harry notices now that she had brought the bottle of wine with her too.

“Long day?” He questions. Y/N nods, tucking her legs under her as she gets comfortable on the couch beside him. She clears her throat softly before answering him.

“Uh, yeah, work’s just been a lot lately and I’m actually looking forward to some time off,” Y/N says, running a hand through her hair, and then leans her arm on the back of the couch. Harry watches her movements, bringing his glass of wine to his lips to have a small sip, which he notices she watches him do. He likes her eyes on his lips, he thinks before turning his body slightly and setting his wine on the side table. When he turns back and looks her way he notices the slightly tint of pink flushing over her cheeks. Harry fights the tug at his lips to smile at how she seemed to catch on that he caught her staring at his lips.

“That’s always the worst, feeling as if you’re counting down till the days off,” Harry exclaims.

“I typically don’t, to be honest. I love my job,” Y/N states. “It’s my career so I better,” she adds with a chuckle.

“So you’ve already found your career at such a young age then, that’s awesome. Have you always known you wanted to be involved in the fashion industry?” Harry asks, his eyebrows pulled together as he does find himself very curious of how she herself a career so young.

“First off, twenty four is really starting to not feel young anymore so let's not label me as a youngster or anything alright-“

“Um, twenty four is young but okay,” Harry cuts her off with a playful look on his face. Y/N rolls her eyes and chooses to ignore his teasing. He’s always hung out around people older than him and typically dated women older too. But Y/N doesn't seem young. From what he’s seen from her, she doesn’t fit the mold of any twenty four year olds he’s known before - most being rather rude and partying their youth away while it’s obvious that Y/N worked hard during those years. Y/N looks as though she's got the whole world figured out already, and he admires that a lot.

“And secondly, yeah, I guess I sort of did know, not at first, of course, but it was always an interest of mine,” Y/N states, bringing Harry back to their conversation.

“What did you want to be when you were a youngster then?” He questions, using her choice of words back at her which makes Y/N chuckle. She shakes her head and looks up at the ceiling for a moment as she falls back into memories of her childhood. She remembers being emotionally attached to a pair of plastic pink princess slippers and how she slept in her matching tiara for nearly a year before her mom put a stop to her fantasy.

“I wanted to be a princess-“

“Me too,” Harry says.

“Stop interrupting me,” Y/N laughs and reaches across the couch to smack his arm. Harry's head feels light, his cheeks hurt from grinning at Y/N so much. He hasn’t felt like this in quite a while. Being able to have a light conversion with a pretty girl. How she makes him smile and laugh so easily too, it’s a really nice feeling.  “But you’d make a much prettier princess for sure-“

“Not at all,'' Harry disagrees, managing to cut her off yet again. She glares at him but can’t help the smile that's still on her face.

“Anyways, I wanted to be a princess and then I wanted to be one of Santa’s elves-”

Harry chuckles, “of course,” he says as he’s not so surprised to hear her say so - seeing as it looked like Santa’s village inside her apartment.

Y/N chooses to ignore his short interruption this time and continues on. “But then as I got older and got ahold of the internet, I wanted to be a model cause I thought it was the most glamorous thing, but I wasn't as beautiful or skinny as Candice Swanepoel so that was out of the question-“

“This is the last time I'll interrupt you I promise,” Harry says, Y/N presses her lips tight together and gives Harry another look as if to say yeah right. “But I cannot let you sit here and say you aren't pretty or skinny enough to be a model, Y/N, because you are one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen and your weight is nothing to ever question,” Harry pauses as he looks down at the sofa between them, realizing that he had said all that out loud. He was slightly embarrassed as he’s not sure how she’d take her neighbour saying all that to her.

My heart needs to calm down like now, Y/N thinks as she wets her lips and fidgets with her own hands as she watches Harry. “Y/N, don’t ever think less of yourself,” he adds in a gentle voice that sends chills down her spine.

Y/N doesn't respond right away, because honestly she's speechless. No one has ever said something so kind and so genuine to her. Sure, she’s gotten compliments from people, but the way Harry immediately stopped her from talking poorly of herself had made her stomach stir and her heart race. They had only just met, only had a few interactions - they were all good, great even - but Harry wasn’t like most people she’s met before and she’s beginning to realize that. She looks up to see Harry's watching her, his green eyes staring back at hers. Something switches in the air between them as Harry feels like he should lean in. Should he lean in? Would she want that? Does she want him?

“Thanks,” she smiles, bringing Harry back to their conversation. She clears her throat and sits up straight again, flipping her hair over her shoulders and snuggling into the couch some more. “If I ever feel down about myself again, I’ll be sure to knock on your door and demand you shower me in compliments,” Y/N teases.

“I’d be honoured to,” Harry says. There's another beat of silence, but it's not quiet inside his head. All he’s thinking about is how he should've made a move. She felt it too, right? Harry stops himself before he can go too far inside his head again while thinking about Y/N. “I won’t cut in again. Continue from the dreams of being a model - which you’d be a great model, by the way, don't count that one out just yet.”

Y/N smiles again, not even sure if she’s stopped smiling honestly. “Right, well, modeling led me into the world of fashion. Not that I hadn't known about Vogue or any of the high fashion houses since I did grow up in New York; fashion week had always been a highlight for me. But I actually started to look into the other sides of it. Designing wasn't an option, I just didn't feel original enough. So I did some personal assistant stuff during my high school years at fashion week, working behind the scenes at shows.”

Y/N pauses to lean forward and grabs her glass of wine again, needing liquid to coax her throat before she continued. Harry noticed that she was talking so passionately, probably not even realizing how much she was using her hands while speaking or how her eyes lit up at the world she painted for him. “And then I got a scholarship into FIT, the Fashion Institute of Technology. I was lucky enough to get an internship at my current workplace but quickly got offered a position on my graduation day, and now I'm one of our senior associates.”

“And what does your job really entitled to exactly?”

“We do a lot of things, but we’re really a personal shopper and stylist company. Working with many of New York's elite, even some of the east coast’s elite really, as well as celebrities too, which is always fun to see the dress you styled at the Met Gala or the Grammys. I just do a lot of running around, it feels like,” Y/N explains, “like how I had to rush to the Gucci store on Fifth Ave in order to get some pieces for Mrs. Achibald for tomorrow morning.”

“Sounds like a real tough job,” Harry taunts. Y/N returns his smug look and narrows her eyes at him playfully.

“Right, well what do you do then? You always seem to be home, I’m starting to think you don’t even have a job. Maybe you’ve just got a sugar daddy, hmm?” Y/N jokes. Harry lets out a loud laugh, throwing his head back. Y/N laughs with him before taking a sip of her wine that she had almost forgotten about.

“Definitely not a sugar baby, although that would be the dream, wouldn’t it?”

“Oh, totally,” Y/N nods in agreement. They both chuckle again. Harry reaches for his wine to take a sip before answering her question for real this time. Blame the wine, he thinks, for any longing looks or laughing too much at her jokes just blame the red wine in his glass.

“I’m actually in the music industry, kind of,” Harry states.

“How are you kind of in the music industry?” Y/N questions curiously, her brows pulled together as she takes another sip of wine.

“I am a studio rat, as people in the industry would call it,” Harry says, Y/N’s face scrunches up at his words utterly confused at the term. “I pretty much live in music studios most of the year. Most of my time is taken up by writing. So I guess I’m a songwriter, but I also make demos for my songs with a few people I’ve grown close with in my studio, so I end up doing some instruments for artists' studio versions of songs. I do a bit of producing too, but I mostly leave that to my buddy, Tom.”

“Wow, that sounds like a really cool job. And here I was jabbering on about my job when you’re a songwriter? That’s so cool,” Y/N repeats, another sip of wine going down her throat as she stares at Harry. His cheeks are starting to turn red, eyes avoiding hers as he fidgets with his rings. “Have you written any songs I’d know?” She asks, trying to get more information out of him.

“Maybe,” Harry shrugs.

“You’re not going to tell me?” Y/N asks, brows pulled together.

“Nope,” Harry shakes his head.

“Shouldn’t you be proud of your work?”

“Of course I am,” Harry says, bringing a crooked finger up to his nose before rubbing it twice. “I just know that my music might not be everyone's favourite.”

Since the beginning of his freelance songwriting career, Harry's always been nervous to show people what he’s poured his heart and soul into, especially to people he’s friends with, or people he likes. What if they hated it? He couldn’t bear listening to the fake “it's great” with an even faker smile. Although he knows people do like his songs, those people were mainly artists that bought his songs and their fans, of course, along with his fellow colleagues. He just doesn't want Y/N to hate his work.

“Well, I'm sure it's brilliant,” Y/N says. “And maybe one day you’ll show me.” She adds with a smile, not wanting to force the subject, over the rim of her wine glass before taking another sip and finishing off the red liquid in one small gulp. She frowns at the empty glass and sets it down on the Santa coaster on the coffee table. “Do you write all the time then?” Y/N asks, bringing her gaze back to Harry’s.

“Pretty much, although I’m in the studio less in December due to it being so close to the holidays. I’ve actually got my last session with my mates just in a few days.”

“Counting down the days till you have some time off?” She asks, referring to what he had said earlier to her.

“Not particularly,” Harry says.

Y/N is about to ask why, but then her phone bings from her pocket. It’s then that she realizes she hadn’t thought of looking at her phone once since sitting down with Harry. She had been so engrossed with their conversation, and feeling a light buzz that she managed to forget about the pizza she ordered. The notification on her screen read that her pizza had arrived at the building, and the delivery person would be here any second. Then her phone starts ringing.

“Hello,” Y/N answers the phone in a sweet voice. Harry has to stop himself from staring, instead finding himself grabbing the red wine that he wasn’t too fond of, and has a few sips as he listens to Y/N talk to, what he assumes, is the pizza delivery. She buzzes them up with one tap on her phone before the call ends. “Our dinner is finally here,” she tells Harry, even though he had gathered as much, but he still smiles in response. She stands from the couch and adjusts her pants by pulling them up slightly. They fit her so bloody well, Harry thinks. “And we are both nearly done with a glass of wine each before we’ve even eaten,” Y/N chuckles as she walks past Harry and to the kitchen to her purse.

While Y/N pays for their food, Harry takes it upon himself to top off her glass of wine. He was content with his last few sips between bites. Y/N sets the two pizza boxes on the coffee table before rushing into the kitchen to grab two plates and some napkins for them. They work together in a comfortable silence to get things set up; both boxes open and Y/N settles back onto the couch before they dig into the large New York slices.

Y/N brings a piece straight from the box to her mouth, once she bites into the greasy food she moans around her mouthful of cheesy pizza. Harry is just about to take his first bite as well but stops just short at the sounds that come from Y/N. He dares to glance her way, throat bobbing as he takes her in. Both eyes closed, her head hanging back and lips turned up into a smile as she chews her food. He watches her swallow, utterly mesmerized by her soft skin moving just slightly. Dear god, Styles, get it together, he thinks as he imagines her swallowing something else.

Y/N opens her eyes at the sound of Harry clearing his throat, turning her gaze to him and seeing him lift his piece of pizza to her in a ‘cheers’ manner. “Thanks again for the meal,” Harry says. There his voice does it again, sounding all low and throaty as it makes chills go down her spine.

“No problem,” Y/N nods. She tries to focus back on eating her food, willing the thoughts in her head to go away. But she can’t stop them from entering her dreams later that night after Harry and her had said their goodbye - Harry noticed her yawn a few times and began to clean up their plates and empty wine glasses while he continued to tell Y/N about his time in school before he was writing songs full time on his way to the kitchen. Y/N watched him from her spot on the couch, smiling at how he didn’t think twice on cleaning up after them. She was pretty sure that’s how her dream started too, but then it led to Harry’s voice whispering in her ear, asking if she’s been naughty or nice this year while they laid in bed. Y/N blames the large glass of wine. One hundred percent she blames the wine.

There wasn’t a more perfect day in the year, Y/N was sure of it, as she sat on a bench in Central Park. It was t-minus three weeks before Christmas Day and she had just gotten off work. The sun was slowly setting in the horizon as she stared at the sparkling snow that covered the ground and trees around her.

“Y/N?”

She turns her gaze away from the skating rink in the distance to see who had called out her name. A smile tugs at her lips as she sees Harry a few feet away. He’s dressed in a long dark coat that reaches to his knees, one which was exposed from a rip in his loose fitting jeans. With his outfit he wore a pair of chelsea boots upon his feet that trudged through the snow. Y/N noticed that he was bundled up with a grey scarf around his neck and a matching beanie upon his head too. She liked how his hair flipped up at the ends, sticking out of the beanie.

It has been almost a week since their pizza night together, and thankfully, those wine induced dreams had stopped after that one night, which to be fair were rather innocent compared to some other dreams she had thanks to too much tequila - regardless, it’s making it much less awkward to face him now.  

“Hey,” she greets him as she meets his eyes once more. Harry stops by the bench, motioning at the open space to her left.

“Mind if I sit with you?” He asks. Y/N shakes her head and moves to her right just a bit to make more room for him. “Was going for a stroll, thought I was imagining you sitting here by yourself to be honest.” Harry states.

“New York City can seem rather small some days,” Y/N says with a smile.

“Some days, yeah,” Harry nods. “What brings you out to this lonesome bench in Central Park?” Harry asks, looking out at the scenery before them.

“This,” Y/N answers with a hand out to the park.

“It's rather pretty.”

“Very, and calming. And after my day at the office today, I desperately needed to just sit here by myself and disconnect from the world for a moment.”

“Oh,'' Harry says, bringing Y/N’s gaze away from the couple holding hands across the pond and to him instead. “I'm- I'm sorry if I barged in. I just thought it’d be weird if I didn’t say hi.”

“Oh no, it’s totally okay,” Y/N assures him. “I’ve been out here for a good while now.” As if her body realizes at the same time, she shivers beside Harry.

“Did you want to head home?”

“Not particularly,” Y/N hums. Her eyes falling back to the sights before her. The sky is becoming a soft hue of pinks and oranges before their eyes. It warms her heart despite her entire body is cold.

“How about a cup of hot cocoa?” Harry suggests as he sees the cart serving hot drinks just to their right. An older couple and, what seems to be, their grandchildren are being served steaming cups and candy canes too. That seems like something Y/N would like, Harry thinks as he stands from the bench. He's about to offer his hand but thinks twice about it, sticking both his hands into his coat pockets before he can make a fool of himself. “My treat,” Harry adds with a smile.

“I would love that,” Y/N beams while standing from the bench and falling into step with him.

Harry orders for the two of them as they step up to the small cart. Y/N discreetly takes out her phone and opens her Instagram app, swiping to the right to open her camera before she’s bombarded with notifications. She holds down on her screen to begin filming her pointed Versace boots that she had been gifted from work this winter; they had become a staple as the weather grew colder and the snow kept coming down since they had the thickest heel of all the shoes in her closet. Holding the phone up, she catches half of Harry’s body as she films the hot chocolate cart. His back is to the camera, his large coat and beanie covering any angle she did get of him so she’s not afraid to post the story after adding a quick filter to it and typing ‘pro tip: always get a hot chocolate when you’re feeling chilly in central park’ tagging her location as well before hitting post to her story and feeding her nearly five hundred thousand followers with some content for the first time all day.

“Thank you,” Y/N says softly as Harry hands her a to-go cup without a lid since there’s an abundance of whipped cream on top. Her smile turns into a grin as he also reveals he bought her a candy cane. She gasps and is quick to unwrap it and stick it into her mouth.

“Woah, you’re like a toddler itching for a sugar rush, huh?” Harry teases as they begin walking along the path and away from the cart.

“Candy canes are my weakness,” Y/N states as she pushes it to the left side of her mouth in order to talk more clearly.

“Good to know,” Harry smiles over the rim of his cup before opening his mouth and licking off some of the whipped cream. Y/N has to look away as she’s brought back to her dream.

Shaking her head slightly, she brings her phone back up to her face and it unlocks for her. Since it’s still open on the Instagram camera, she holds out her heaping cup of whipped cream and attempts to take a picture as they walk. The first two turn out blurry, then she stops walking, in hopes it’ll turn out nice before Harry can notice she stopped. Only it doesn’t of course, so she ends up furrowing her brows and sucks harder on the candy cane in her mouth before trying three more times to take the perfect snap.

Suddenly, Harry’s hand is in her shot, a blur over her whipped cream. She gasps and looks up to see his forefinger in his mouth, obviously licking off the bit of whipped cream he managed to steal. She’s surprised he did it, and she can tell he is a bit too, but then she huffs out a short chuckle while her mouth is still agape, which makes Harry grin. He doesn’t think twice as he reaches out to swipes his finger over the sweet cream again.

“Stop stealing my whipped cream!” Y/N glares at Harry as he licks his finger clean once more.

“It’s gonna melt anyways, you're taking so bloody long to drink any of it.”

“I'm busy enjoying my candy cane, jeez,” Y/N rolls her eyes and takes the candy out of her mouth, having forgotten about the picture, her phone screen turns blank. Harry shrugs and reaches forward again to steal more. Y/N is faster this time, and moves her cup away from him while bringing her candy cane up and pointing towards him. “Do it again and I'll stab you,” She warns. Harry throws his free hand up in surrender, but both of his cheeks have those deep dimples showing. I’m beginning to really like those dimples, Y/N thinks.

“You get rather hostile over your holiday treats, hm?” Harry questions, raising a brow before slowly retreating his hand to hold his own hot chocolate with his other. He brings the cup to his mouth with both hands and takes a sip.

“Yes, in fact, I do,” Y/N mutters, looking down at her own cup and notices that the whipped cream is nearly gone now. Suppose Harry was right, she missed her chance to enjoy the extra sweetness.

She takes a few sips as they continue to walk together through Central Park. The sky is beautiful as the sunset is in its full glory with dreamy pinks and purples littering the skies. Y/N debates taking a photo but decides against it as she slips her phone into her pocket. Just as she’s about to return the candy cane back to her mouth, she glances over at Harry and notices just as he brings down his own hot chocolate from his mouth that he’s made a bit of a mess.

She chuckles before saying, “you’ve got a little,” Y/N points to her upper lip, “uh, a whipped cream moustache.” She giggles as Harry pokes the tip of his tongue out and swipes it over his top lip. Y/N chuckles some more and offers him her napkin.

“Thanks,” Harry says before wiping it across his mouth, looking back to her to ask, “did I get it all?”

Y/N finds herself staring at Harry for a few moments longer than it would take to give a simple answer if his face was clean or not. She’s never felt so comfortable around someone before, not even her childhood friends or Sammy honestly. There’s this ease around Harry the few times they’ve been around one another, and it makes her heart swell up in her chest. She rolls her lips into her mouth and inhales deeply through her nose, breaking her gaze away from his face and to the ground. In order to not seem weird or awkward, she looks back up and finds his eyes on her while she nods her head.

“Yeah, you’re good,” she tells him. They start their walk through Central Park once more, heading towards home at a slow pace. Y/N has her candy cane back in her mouth, alternating between it and her hot chocolate before it got too cold. She could live off them both one hundred percent; two of the best things ever invented.

“So, tell me about your day,” Harry says, bringing Y/N out of her own thoughts and meeting his gaze again.

“It was a pretty good day, I guess,” she sighs, “we just have a lot of clients that like to do last minute shopping during the holidays and have some pretty crazy demands, but we want to deliver for them so we bend over backwards to do so.”

“I’m sure that can cause you to be rather exhausted then, yeah?”

“Very,” Y/N nods, “but I’m sure your day was much more interesting than mine, so tell me what kind of songs you wrote today?” Y/N asks with a smile.

Harry chuckles and lets Y/N lead the way to their left on the path home, he wasn’t the most confident with getting around sometimes since he usually stuck to the few places in the city that he was familiar with. While he has learned that Y/N is a New York City Native, he trusts her way direction over his, that’s for sure. He thinks back on what he had done today, including a quick run on the treadmill in the gym in their building that ended sooner than he thought as he got a burst of lyrical inspiration out of nowhere.

“I was in my apartment for most of the morning and a bit of the afternoon, then got in a bit of a rut after writing a new song about love, of course. Then I decided I needed to get out of the house and hope for some inspiration from people watching, which I have done a lot since living here,” Harry explains. Y/N takes a big gulp of her nearly cold drink, leaning to her left to get to the garbage they are passing in order to throw out the empty cup. Harry takes the chance to throw his empty cup out too.

“Do you always write about love?” Y/N asks, not thinking twice if it may be a bit too personal of a question. Harry is taken back at first by how that’s all she got from what he had said, but he only clears his throat and shoves his hands into his pockets now that they are free.

“Mostly, yeah,” he nods, “most relatable thing in life, I suppose.”

“Sometimes, I guess it can be,” Y/N agrees and goes back to sucking on her candy cane. She wonders how many times he’s been in love? How many times has she really been in love? Y/N sighs internally and focuses on her steps, avoiding a puddle by having to step closer to Harry. She sniffles from the cold at the same time and is hit with Harry’s scent - lavender, as it always seems to be how he smells. She still thinks it’s lovely.

The two of them make more casual conversation on their fifteen minute walk home through the busy streets. Harry tells her about an elderly couple he had seen just before seeing her, maybe in their 80s, and looking more in love than he’s ever seen before. He wrote a few things about how they looked before going on his way. Y/N tells him about how her grandparents used to go on walks through the park when she was younger, which then brings them into the topic of grandparents in general. Harry tells her about how his grandpa refuses to retire and how his grandma ends up bugging his mom because of how lonely she is. Y/N is smiling the whole time, loving how he must feel comfortable around her too as he’s able to talk about his family like this. Y/N also yawns many times in their short walk. She’s tempted to invite Harry into her apartment for some wine and pizza again but decides against it and simply gives him a smile and soft goodbye at her door, deciding to get into her night routine earlier than normal due to how she can’t stop yawning.

After hanging up her coat, double checking her door was locked, and slipping out of her boots, Y/N pulled her phone out of her pocket to check out what text she missed while on her walk home. She liked how she wanted to feel so present around Harry, having no want to look at her phone but instead being more interested in his little stories about his grandparents. Her face ID unlocks as she looks at the screen. It’s still on the photo she last tried to take for her Instagram. Harry’s hand was a bit of a blur as he stole her whipped cream off the top of her hot chocolate. There was no way to not know it was Harry’s hand, though, his rings being so unique and noticeable in the photo as well - her favourite being his initials wrapped around his fingers in gold. Some would think it’s maybe a bit narcissistic, but Y/N thought it looked good and really there’s no harm in being a narcissist sometimes right?

Y/N saves the photo but doesn’t post it, deciding to simply keep it for herself instead of letting her many followers see into a small yet sweet moment between her and her newest friend. She could call him that right? They were friends? Y/N did hope that Harry thought of her as a new friend too because she was enjoying this time with him a lot, maybe even a little too much.

It had been another day spent at the cafe down the street for Harry. Marking only one last day off till his final studio time this year, he was itching to get to work in a couple days and see his mates too. Over the almost two weeks, he’s written more than he had expected himself to and he knew he could thank a certain new neighbour, or I guess, a new friend, Harry thinks to himself as he turns towards his apartment building. There was no denying the feeling he got around Y/N. He wanted to become more than friends, eventually, no rush of course - but he couldn’t ignore the feeling he got around her; the butterflies and heart racing nearly every moment together. And he couldn’t forget the constant smiling, which he was doing right now just thinking about her.

Harry walks up to the main doors of his apartment building and notices a man beside the main doors. Harry furrows his brows at him. He didn’t look like some strange man trying to find warmth during the beginning of the evening here in the city that had fallen to freezing temperatures as the first week of December came to an end. In fact, he had a brand new iPhone in his hand and rather expensive looking clothes keeping him warm.

“Hey, did you need inside?” Harry asks the man standing by the intercom system. The man looks up at Harry, eyes narrowing at him. He seems Harry’s age, maybe even a few years older judging by the lines around his eyes. He’s got dark eyebrows which makes Harry think he must have dark hair under the beanie he wore under the hood of his thick winter coat. Harry waits for an answer, staring back into the stranger’s brown eyes.

“Yeah, girlfriends not answering and I know she’s inside,” his voice is low and gruff, he then lifts a Starbucks hot cup up - Harry recognizes the holiday pattern anywhere now since Y/N seems to always have one on her even in quick passing in or out of the building. “Even got me to pick her up this stupid drink on my way too, her fault if it’s cold now I guess.”

“Guess so,” Harry mumbles, kind of put off by the man’s attitude. He decides to give him the benefit of the doubt and holds the door open for it. The man walks in without so much of a thank you. You’re welcome, Harry sarcastically thinks to himself.

They walk together to the elevator in an awkward silence. Once the doors open Harry steps up to the buttons and hits the sixth one, not bothering to ask the man what floor he needs as he steps away. The stranger gives the lit up button a brief look before he’s staring down at his phone. As the elevator moves Harry’s mind wanders off to how he’d assert himself into Y/N’s evening today. Maybe he could make her dinner, then ask if she’d like to walk over to Central Park after because he knows how much she enjoys it there, and when they decide to take a break from walking and find a bench he’d finally get the nerve to make a move - maybe reach for her hand during the walk even. One thing was for sure, he liked Y/N and he needed to buck up and do something about it.

He’s still deep in thought about Y/N when the elevator doors open. The man he let into the building steps out first without even glance at Harry. Typical New Yorker, he thinks. Harry finds himself looking at where Y/N’s apartment door is over the man's shoulder as they walk down the hall, he’s debating just walking right up and asking her to hang out right away. But then the man stops in front of the door that reads 602 - Y/N’s door.

Y/N hears the knock on her front door and blinks rapidly at her laptop screen, unfocusing from her long email that she was to send to her boss, Amanda, within the hour with an update on how the first week of December had gone. She glances at the time and sees it’s nearly four in the afternoon. Took him long enough, she thinks while rolling her eyes and standing from the couch. Just as she’s a few steps away there’s another knock on the door. She sighs and unlocks it, quickly throwing the door open to reveal Mark standing on the other side.

“You are home,” he says, that attitude she knows so well is thick in his voice already. Y/N opens her mouth, about to sass him back, but then she notices a certain tall figure with a mess of brown hair walking behind Mark.

“Harry,” Y/N breathes out, hoping he didn’t even hear it honestly. But he slows his steps and gives her a tight lipped smile once facing her. It’s one she was not familiar with and makes her stomach feel as though it was full of rocks.

“Hey,” he says with a small three finger wave.

“You know this guy?” Mark, her boyfriend, questions. Bringing her eyes from Harry’s green ones and to his brown ones instead. “He was nice enough to let me into this place since you were too busy,” he states.

Y/N tucks her lips into her mouth and looks away from Mark and back to Harry. She knows he’s questioning everything by the look in his eyes. She tried. Well, maybe not hard enough, but she wanted to tell him about Mark, even just casually and quickly. Y/N didn’t intend to give Harry any sort of mixed signals during their times together, she really was just being polite and ended up enjoying being around him so much that she thought there was no harm in making a new friend. But she’d be an idiot to try and deny she felt something more than friendship with Harry.

“Yeah, uh,” she clears her throat and waves a hand between the two young men, “Mark, this is Harry my uh, my neighbour. Harry this is Mark, my boyfriend.”

Well shit, that’s not ideal, Harry thinks as he looks into Y/N’s eyes and prays he heard her wrong. But he knows he didn’t. So, he just takes a deep breath and forces a smile to stay on his face while holding a hand out to Mark, even though it hurt him to be polite to the guy that was dating the girl he’s been crushing on for nearly two weeks now.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Harry says as Mark grasps his hand and shakes it lazily. Shit handshake, he thinks. “I would love to stay and chat but I’ve got some work to get to,” he says quickly after taking his hand out of Mark’s and backing away from the situation towards his own apartment.

Y/N opens her mouth, but the words don’t come out. She just watches as Harry turns on his heels and his posture hunches as he gets to his door and tries to unlock it quickly. Mark is suddenly pushing past Y/N, saying something but she’s too focused remembering the look on Harry’s face just moments ago. She steps back into her apartment and doesn’t look over to where Harry is shutting his own door before closing her own gently.

Really fucked this up didn’t you, Y/N? She thinks as she turns the lock on her door and listens to Mark complain about his day while flinging his belongings around her living room. What is she going to do? What is she going to say? If Harry ever talks to her again, that is. She sighs and closes her eyes before making her way towards where her boyfriend was lounging on her couch, giving him a small smile as he opened his arms for her to sit with him.

“I did miss you these past few weeks while I was away,” Mark says, planting a quick kiss to her hair as she leans into his body - praying he doesn’t question why her heart is beating so fast. She’s sure he wouldn’t enjoy knowing it’s because of her growing feelings for her new neighbour, and seeing the realization in Harry’s face at the fact she wasn’t single kind of hurt to see.

“Missed you too,” she mumbles, lying. Y/N hadn’t thought about her boyfriend all that much these past, almost, three weeks that he was away for a business trip.

“Do much without me?” Mark asks.

Y/N shakes her head, “no, not much at all,” her soft voice replies while she begins to zone out on the wall that was between her and Harry’s apartments, noticing how it made her feel more separated from him now more than ever. 

>> part two <<

thanks for reading, please reblog/leave some feedback if you enjoyed it! until next week 😘

*like this post if you’d like to be added to the cstsyl taglist!*

[semischarmed]

Clarity

My hot roommate Zach is the perfect man. I think I won the cosmic lottery when we got paired freshman year. “Roommates for life!” he shouted, as he wrapped a tone arm around me in a side-hug. I chuckled, of course. Who knew the cutest guy in our dorm was such a dork. I remember that moment vividly, committed every last detail to memory. In what he likely only barely remembers, I recall to the last detail. I play it back often -even moreso, nowadays: The crisp autumn breeze. The filtered sunlight through amber trees, bathing us both in golden afternoon. The warmth of his touch, and the unintended taunt from his arm pulling me towards him and his jacket ever so slightly wrapping over my back. The slight, dense smell of coffee wafting from him and his minty breath cutting through. Thats how I remember him. Warm. Sincere. Safe. Zach would probably say that was the moment we became best friends. I, on the other-hand, would say that was the exact moment when I fell for him.

We did everything together from then on: Ate together, joined the same clubs, signed up to the same classes- that first year we were inseparable. Best friends to a tee. I’m not even sure what he saw in me- the guy was a hell of a lot more sociable than I was. He could literally find anyone else on campus, yet I had the privilege of being his roommate and friend. I commit that wonderful first year to my life. It is my happiest year to date. I commit that version of Zach to myself as well.

Trouble started early in our second year. He spent all summer back home, hanging out with his high school friends and his brothers. When we finally met back in our new room, he seemed distant. Still, I made the effort, getting closer and closer to him every day. He’d been sending signals too, I think. A stray touch, just a half second too long. A lingering stare in my direction. A gentle smile when I ask him a bout his day. I had to know for myself with certainty. 

So, one terrifying October night, I asked him straight up.The fucker laughed. Cruel, hideous, insensitive laughter. I’d never felt more alone in my life than when he laughed at my confession. That broke something in me. I quickly ran to my bed, crying myself to sleep. Without skipping a beat, Zach left the room to grab a bite to eat, seemingly unchanged by my outright confession. I had never been so humiliated in my life, yet only he would ever know. Still I felt him hold that over me in the weeks to follow like a dark cloud. Of course he’d still offer hangouts. He’d ask for help with some dumb assignment or try to get me to open up by faking some issues about himself. He was mocking me. I felt his sneer, ever-present from behind. Thats when I began researching alternative methods to exact what I needed from him.

Why a private university had a book like this is beyond me. It was a spellbook. A dangerous one, at that. All manner of incantation and processes regarding the human soul. I poured myself the next few weeks on its pages religiously. Translation is a massive pain in the ass but it gets done.

“Love cannot be created by spell,” it stated. Leave it to a fucking book to let me down too. I wiped away stray tears until I caught sight of the last batch of spells. I sighed at its contents. Fine. I couldn’t make him love me through magic, but I could have him the next best way. His body. The final section of this book of spells is, of course, the curses and enchantments required to possess another being.

———

The preparations have been made. It’s another late, awkward night in our room, where he just passes by, gives me a nod and a grimace and then heads to bed. This night would be different. I chant the words. The price is steep. Half of my body’s lifespan for the ability to take someone over in their sleep. That’s the one I settled on. Of course, there were more permanent spells outlined, but this seemed to be a happy medium.

The magic is dark in nature, and I feel the cloud over me deepen. I feel myself detach. It’s weightless, but grounded. Makes sense, given the purpose of this spell. I watch my target and lick my astral lips. There he was, happily dreaming without a care in the world. I study every curve, like sculpture. He is muscled, but tone. Zach likes to sleep with his shirt off, so I get to see what powerful chest up close. I watch as powerful lungs, drawn in air before gently dispersing it. Perfection. I watch that beautiful face lie still in a satisfied smile. Angelic. This body is power, incarnate. My power, soon.

I follow closes until I am but inches from his face. I stir around him, slightly. I want him to know it’s me. Bleary eyes open and he gives a weak smile when he sees me. “Dude-” the smile quickly fades to shock. “Wait what the fuck...” in sinful glee I push into my man. He involuntarily absorbs my particles, my spirit. He tries to push me away, to get me off him. Hands are useless to stop me. I phase through them with no resistance. His breath quickens as he begins to panic. This only further brings me into him, as he is forced to breath in the only air around him-me. 

Then, he starts choking, trying to force the parts of me in him out. I am unfazed. Instead, in I keep filling into him until all of me is inside. This is the way we were meant to be. He pulses and convulses and chokes while I align myself into him. I revel in Zach. In being Zach. Despite all the shit he pulled this year, he still is perfection. My perfection, now. 

I command his lips mine. “Invoke me. Become me. Manipulate this body. Explore us. Stay, in me. I want you here, forever.” They’re not words he usually uses. I rile in a frenzy when these phrases leave his lips at my behest. When his voice becomes my own and I make us moan. When his body complies with my every whim. When Zach’s flesh is mine. It is euphoric. Orgasmic even. I intend to follow through, to reward it. To pleasure it. God it feels good being in him. Being him. He may not love me, but love me he will, even if indirectly. Every waking moment I spend inside this man will be a moment of him loving himself, loving me. Now, And then I feel it. I clutch my head in pain. Zach.

Veins strain in his forehead as he puts every last effort to exorcise me out. Resistance almighty in this body. In tears I feel myself stripped from momentary heaven. He chokes as a dense fog that is me escapes his mouth. He is successful.

When I am kicked out of his body abruptly, I flare in anger. How could he do this? How could he? I look back at my slumbering form. No matter. My resolve is steel. Somehow, somewhere deep inside me, I knew somewhere it had to come to this. I chant the final curse mentioned in the spellbook. The price is the steepest of them all.

I watch as my physical form dissipates. I writhe as I am renewed with newfound energy. Potency. Virility. I’ve put in everything. Everything I ever was into becoming him. Zach would be mine, no matter what. 

Before he can readjust, before he can even think about what had just occurred, I flood back inside my man. Inside my body. My one true body, now, given what I had to sacrifice. I make him smile while he takes me in. Smile in preparation of a new, permanent driver. I thrust my astral form inside its new home. It’s warm. Roomy. muscular. We make this body grin, shout, cry, writhing all the way in its sheets in our battle for control. I’m not even sure he knows what he’s doing when he fights me- but he always was a natural in everything he picked up. I feel our shared muscle contract and relax as it is forced to accept its two masters- soon to be one. Soon to be me. Zach’s soul was strong but no one was a match for the full force of an entire human body-turned-spirit. I feel his soul start to lose footing. Jackpot. Immediately fill take its place. My place.

I was far deeper in Zach now than I was before. His essence struggles, trying to escape me but I keep us steady, hold us tight. Our minds begin to connect this time around and we sync. The book said this was a necessary step. I blink away our tears into a satisfied smile. Our face is flush from the fight, flush from my greatest victory. “You’re mine forever,” I think to myself, My words. The verbalization of my invasive thoughts in his head- they’re spoken in his tongue. In his jock-like inflection. I even now think in his voice. Of course, it’s relatively minor in the grand scheme of things. Yet it is undeniable proof. The finality of it all. Proof that my body no longer existed in this world. Proof that for me, forever, Zach would be my default. Just one last step to it all. One last push- I’ve already given this much, there was no going back. I would displace Zach as the true owner of this body. It’s as the final line in the book states: “Encapsulate their soul, devour it, digest it, make it yours. Then, true control at long last.”

Tears stream down our shared cheeks as we both realize the true gravity, the true consequences of my actions. We are synced now, but I haven’t yet completed the process. So, our emotions are a mix. So, it’s bittersweet. He’s mine. We’re one. I’m finally with Zach in a way most intimate. Despite it all, he isn’t fighting back. Why?

I rage inside him, wanting him to be mad, wanting him to hate me, to give me justification my ultimate transgression. He offers none. Instead, I am hit with borrowed clarity. More of his memory floods into me and I begin to cry. 

I watch my every worst moment through his lens, relive the demons of my past and yet, from his perspective they never looked quite as dark or traumatic as I had made them out to be. Even my confession itself, my initial catalyst, had merely been a blip in Zach’s mind. If anything, he had been more concerned that his own nervous laughing was the cause of my spiraling. I quickly realize how much wasted time I spent, building up Zach into this god in my head. My god. In the end, he was human after all.

I feel Zach pull instances of himself from my memories in turn. It turns out he had many, many insecurities as well. Many moments where he needed validation or support. Many moments, even in recent memory, where I had never picked up on on his fear and self doubt. An offhand comment here. Some self-deprecation there. Of course, stupid me always there to respond by telling him to quit joking around. I felt the months of torment he felt in my coldness after my confession. He wasn’t making fun of me or being an ass, he wasn’t even patronizing (well, he wasn‘t trying to at least)- he thought he was losing a friend. The guy was just a bit oblivious. God I was so dumb. Of course, he blames himself for my eventual actions. Poor guy. Zach didn’t deserve any of this- he never did. “Thank you” he cries in new clarity.

In mental tears I begin to undo my connection to him. It’s not something he had the capacity to do himself- I made that a reality when I used my physical form as tribute. I know the price which must be paid, for my greatest sin, born from misunderstanding. There wouldn’t be much left for me- the price for the spell was my physical body after all. It didn’t matter. I made that choice for myself when I recited the spell. But Zach... he had no choice at all. He still had a chance at a life. A life well-lived with knowledge and confidence gained from my memory. It was the least I could give him.

I begin to drift away as I balance the cosmic scales. I detach the last of myself from Zach, ready to give him back his body, ready to return him to his life. It’s merely a reverse of the process from before, yet it all feels lighter somehow. I take it as a sign of karmic justice. Of course, I am scared. Who knows what awaits me? Maybe I can find another body to inhabit. Maybe one in a coma. Maybe i’ll be reincarnated. Maybe nothing. Maybe I’ll just vanish on the spot...

Zach doesn’t give me the chance to find out. I feel his astral hand holding on to mine. His face is sympathetic. Kind. Warm. Like it used to be. Like it always was. His body leans up to pull me into a warm embrace. I start crying in spirit. “You, you don’t have to do this-” 

“I know” he says. He pulls me tighter. “Roommates for life, remember?” Now he’s crying. “There’s no way to go back- we both know that, but you still got a life to live-we both do.” He smiles as he guides me to himself. I reattach to him. We weave our souls as one. “C’mon man, I told you I grew up sharing a room.” I am a complete mess of emotions at this point. Unworthiness, Love, Relief. I feel his mess too. Neither of us knew where to go from here, but we both knew we’d face it together.

The experience was sobering, to say the least. We cried together that night. We cried at newfound realization. We cried at irreversibility of what I had done. Hell, we even cried at the extra rent that had to now be paid. I had no way of undoing what I did, and Zach wouldn’t let me go. In the end, we decide to just give it a go, a resolve to live as one person. “Zach 2.0,” as he jokingly put it. Dork.

———

“A happy accident,” is what Zach called the events of that night. He always was the optimist. Although, these days, I’m a bit of an optimist now too. I am Zach now too, after all. All things considered, we’ve done quite well together. Zach 2.0 was everything. We were smart, intuitive, confident, compassionate. We’ve made this body the healthiest it’s ever been. Hell, together we even graduated with honors, something neither of us could ever hope to do alone. Both our parents were real proud of that one- he told mine at my funeral that we had been together and we’ve been in close contact ever since. By no means were we the perfect man though. There was no perfect man. We’ve had our share of fights, struggles, times where one of us would take full control of this body we share, shut the other out.

Once in a blue moon, we both dream of what our lives could have ended up as, had I not done what I did or had he let me disappear that night. In retrospect, I really do think my life had a lot of things going for it. Hindsight is always 20/20, as he likes to say. I saw many an opening, so many areas for improvement that my younger self was blinded by in lust and perceived betrayal. There was so much life I could have lived, had I just not opened that stupid book. I don’t dwell on it too much though. We’re both quite happy sharing this body. I’m living in one body with my crush, whats not to like?

The first few months were quite jarring. Our friends and family would see us happy and outgoing at one moment and then flip to quiet and reserved on a flip of the switch. Gratefully, they been patient with us, assuming it was the byproduct of a grieving boyfriend. The more years I grow with him, the more alike we have become. Sharing one body and living one life tends to do that. I’ve probably rubbed off on him a little too. He’s just a bit more analytical now, a bit more perceptive, and I’ve learned to let loose every once in a while. Altogether, we make a great team. We’ve even managed a slew of relationships along the way. Hell, he’s even gone out with some guys-no doubt a byproduct of my soul being a part of him. Of course, in the ultimate cruel twist of fate, they never last- he tells me “none ever match me”. Well of course they can’t. I’ve lived every moment with him, felt his every thought, lifted him when he was up, consoled him when he was down. Ironically, in a roundabout way, the spell did end up causing love, causing for him to fall for me- at the cost of us never being able to be a couple in the physical sense. Guess you really can’t have it all.

In the few years we spent together my love for him has only deepened. I know he feels the same way. We are one person, after all. All things considered, it’s not a bad setup. If love on the physical plane happens, it happens, and if it doesn’t- then we still always have each other. Regardless, I’m sure we’ll find someone out there for the both of us, someday-there’s that optimism again. Of course, we don’t pine for it. Our main focus has always been each other. Growing together. We’ve got a whole life yet to live. And he’ll have me with him every step of the way. And we can’t wait to face it all, together.

-End-

Eh, it’s a bit underdeveloped but I’m not a novelist and I didn’t want to spread this out over parts. Going for something a little different with number 14- hope y’all like it!

[awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands]

Laid out cold, now we're both alone (part 3)

A/N: Hello, this fic is very important to me because I tried my best to give justice to such a cool idea and I hope I did a good job. Plus I don't do multichapter ofter, so this was a challenge.

I wanna thank the lovely @livdonna​ for proofreading my work, you're literally the best <3.

P.S. If you want to get tagged in the next chapters, let me know.

Summary: Nikki needs to ask a favor to Vince Neil, in order to keep someone safe.

Warnings: Major Character Death,Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Drug Use, Angst, Overdose.

Pairing: Nikki Sixx x Tommy Lee

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Taglist: @slashscowboyboots @witchytombstonesmile @arnold-layne @emometalhead​ @i-dont-like-rice​ @nikki-sexx​ @smokeandmirrorz​

Bittersweet. That was the best way to describe Nikki’s emotional state as he got teleported in front of Vince’s house. They weren’t the biggest fans of each other.  He was always so annoyed by his singer, whom he considered more of a diva prince than a front man.

Sometimes Vince Neil was a stupid spoiled fucker, in his opinion, yet he needed him. What made his blood boil the most was that he had to put his pride to the side, because this wasn’t about him but about Tommy, and there was no way in hell he would have disappointed him again, even if that meant having to deal with the blonde’s bullshit.

He decided to get in the blonde’s house but without showing himself at first.  He wasn’t being avoidant ( absolutely not) but just he wanted more time to think, that’s all. The first thing he noticed was how different Vince’s mansion looked from Mick’s : outside there was a big pool, in which the clear water was shining thanks to the sunny day, meanwhile the inside was mostly white and gave the whole house a very elegant and snobby atmosphere; however it was very messy too, which was a huge disappointment.

It reminded him of the singer: face of an angel but inside he had his demons. Who didn’t to be honest? Unfortunately Nikki wasn’t so lucky to get an angel face to hide his dirty soul, he felt like everyone could tell how fucked up he was.

Lost in his thoughts he almost didn’t notice Vince passing right through him, talking on the phone in an exasperated tone.

“I know Doc, you repeated that hundreds of times! Yeah , I’ll call Mick and Tommy and we will do this fucking conference!”

There was a small pause.  Doc was probably answering back, and Vince looked like he was about to smash the phone on the ground.

“What’s holding us? We fucking lost our bassist, our friend and brother. Jesus, I fucking get it that you want our money but show some fucking mercy, bastard! Fuck you!” He violently put the phone down, only to fall ungracefully on the couch.

The whole conversation made the bassist laugh out of anger.  He knew Doc was all about money, especially because they made his life a living hell, but Vince appearing concerned about his death was honestly so fake.

What? Were you saying that Vince Neil was mourning him? The guy who kept fucking up the band over and over again was sad for him?

“Fucking Nikki, real dick move you pulled there!”

Nikki didn’t wait one second before sitting on the couch and making himself visible to the blonde.

“Oh Vinnie, that’s so rude to say.”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Vince screamed,  trying to back away but just managing to fall off the couch.

The other man couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

“Nikki, is that you? What kind of joke is this?!”

“Yeah. Look it might sound nuts but I’m a ghost. I’m dead and couldn’t pass through because I have unfinished business to solve.”

If looks could kill, well Nikki would have died again judging by how Vince was staring at him. He saw his face turning into an angry snarl before he started to yell.

“What the fuck, Sixx?! You die, leave us all alone and then you even have the courage to stay a fucking ghost! You fucking selfish prick!”

The bassist felt his blood boiling, well not literally but he got the same feeling as if he still had blood pumping in his body. How did Vince dare to say such things? He was the selfish prick, he was the one never caring and always causing trouble.  He was destroying the band!

“I’m a selfish prick?! I didn’t decide to fucking die! I put my heart and soul in the band and you kept destroying it. Now you want to accuse me? Fuck you!”

“You didn’t want to die? Oh well, what did you think would happen if you kept injecting that shit in your veins. We are fucking screwed now, without a bassist and ready to split up!”

Oh that was funny! Vince wanted to shame him, as Nikki was the only one drinking and fucking up with drugs. Oh sure Mick, Tommy and him could do anything but Nikki dares to shoot up, oh he’s a junkie! However he knew it was different, it wasn’t a simple way to party for him... He needed it to be alive. He had tons of pages written in his diaries that could be used as a proof.

“Oh because you’re such a saint, aren’t you Vinnie? I’m the bad one, I’m the one out of control. Well guess what?  The only person I hurt was myself, meanwhile we can’t say the same thing for you!”

It was a low blow, a terrible one and Nikki knew that. Rage blinded him, but that didn’t mean he had to dredge up the past, especially on something as horrible as Razzle’s death.

Good job Sikki, great way to get your friend to do what you want.

Vince’s face turned red, his fists clenched and got up to Nikki’s nose. He looked like he was about to punch him, but he had to realize it wasn’t going to happen since the bassist was not tangible, so he kicked a small table.

“You’re the only one who you hurt? What about the band, the fans, all those people you lied to and made suffer. Most importantly, what about Tommy, Nikki? How is he? Because it doesn’t look like he wasn’t hurt when you left him all alone, when you preferred shooting up instead of caring for him.”

Tommy. If he knew Vince’s weak point, the singer knew his too. It fucking hurt so bad, now he was the one wishing to be able to slap him.

“You don’t know a fuck about me or Tommy. Shut the fuck up!”

“Oh, I know all the times I saw him scanning the room around hoping to find you, all the times he looked heartbroken when you disappeared in the bathroom during rehearsal. I saw him after you destroyed him, how he still loved you even if you threw him away like trash. His two worst nightmares came true: you left him and you died. So tell me again Nikki, how did you just hurt yourself?

He wasn’t about to cry, even if he felt like a thousand legs were kicking his chest, he wasn’t about to give that fucker the satisfaction to see him crying ( he probably couldn’t even do that). But after the pain came the realization : he was there for Tommy. He was angry to forget that this wasn’t about him but about the drummer, and he probably ruined everything.

Now the hard part came : swallowing his pride down and convincing Vince. Oh, he would probably torment the bassist as slowly as he could, but eventually he had to accept.  Fuck, the two of them knew each other since high school!

“How’s Tommy?” His voice was so low, he doubted the singer heard him, but somehow he did.

“Oh, so now you want to know how he is?!” His voice was still loud and angry, but he must have seen the desperation on Nikki’s face, because he decided to answer anyway. “ He’s a mess. I just talked with him very briefly, he wanted to know if it was real. Then Doc fucking occupied this phone like it was his bitch, so I haven’t called him again, yet.”

This wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear, it wasn’t fucking reassuring at all… Fuck, literally anything could have happened, Tommy could have hurt himself or left the country and this was all because of him. He just hoped his family was going to be close to him, he was loved, they would have never left him alone. That was supposed to be his job too, but he failed.

He failed his sweet Tommy.

“Sixx, what are you thinking about?”

It was the moment. Even if his heart wasn’t beating, he still felt the oppressive pressure of anxiety.  He wanted to run but he had to do it.

Swallow your pride. You fucking owe it to Tommy.

“Vince, promise me that you’ll protect Tommy, no matter what.”

“What?” The blonde was visibly confused and how to blame him!

“You were right, I broke Tommy and he’s going to have such a hard time. He fucking loved me, even if I didn’t deserve it, and now I’m terrified he’s going to destroy himself. You can’t let that happen!”

“Nikki…”

“I fucking love him Vince. I still love him so much.  He deserves a good life, I can’t ruin him even in death. He needs support.”

“Why me? It’s not like Tommy and I are best friends.”

“Because both you and him have known each other for a long time, and when the band will keep playing there’s going to be you, him and Mick left. He would never tell his stuff to Mick and he has something else to do, which means that you have to do it.”

A dry laugh escaped from Vince’s mouth.

“What if he doesn’t want to get helped?”

“You know how to get what you want. You’ll find a way, I’d do it but I’m a little dead… look I know you hate me but I’m only asking this. Like I said to Mick, this is my dead man’s wish.”

“Okay.” The voice was so low and Nikki barely had the time to react before Vince disappeared in the kitchen.

All his insecurities came back to eat him alive. What was even the point of being a ghost if he still had feelings? The truth was that he wasn’t sure on how much Vince could help, sure having someone close to Tommy was good, but he knew his boyfriend and fuck if he was a stubborn fucker.

His boyfriend.

It was a dagger through his chest, yet it still felt warm like the first time Tommy called him that. His face always lit up whenever he said it. The drummer always made loving him seem like the easiest thing in the world, as it was even possible to love someone like Nikki.

But Tommy did and what did he get in return? A junkie boyfriend and eternal heartache, because the love of his life was dead now.

Vince came back with a beer and softer expression on his face. Nikki didn’t move from the couch so he sat back to where he was.

“I will do it. I’ll keep an eye on Tommy.” His firm voice eased Nikki’s worries a bit.

Fuck, he never expected to see Vince Neil agreeing with him.

“Thanks dude, I know you hate me but Tommy didn’t do anything.”

“I don’t hate you.” His voice was shocked and the bassist had to suppress a laugh.

Yeah sure Vince Neil, not hating Nikki Sixx.

“Oh c’mon, don’t tell me you weren’t happy to hear I was gone.”

“Fuck no. Nikki we might have fought a lot and you were a fucking pain in the ass, but I’d never want your death. I cried, you were still my band mate and brother!”

He wasn’t sure why this whole conversation was hitting him so hard.  It was probably because he didn’t know how to react to the simple act of someone caring for him beside Tommy. Especially when this someone was his singer.

But did they really hate each other as they thought they did? If the roles were reversed, would he be happy about his death?

“I felt the same. Ya know, when we thought you were dead in the car crash.”

Vince gave him a small sad smile.

“Maybe we can bury the hatchet. You don’t follow me for eternity and I won’t talk shit about you in interviews. Deal?”

“Deal.” Nikki smirked.

It’s time to go, Nikki.

The same sense of helplessness he felt before with Mick, came back. Because he could pretend everything was somehow normal, until the voice reminded him that this wasn’t his place. Even if in this case it was for the best for him to go, considering how awkward it felt for both of them to be so friendly with one another.

“Vince, I have to go now.”

The singer made an expression between sad and relieved, but maybe for the first time ever, it was genuine.

“Don’t be a stranger. Send us some bottles of Jack or some strippers from hell, okay?”

Nikki let out a chuckle. Since when he was laughing with Vince Neil?

“I’ll try my best. Vince, keep the promise.”

“He loves you. You should visit him, he deserves to say goodbye to you one last time.”

He knew that, he fucking knew that already! It didn’t matter how hard he was trying to avoid that, he was going to go to him anyway, not only because Tommy deserved it but because he was selfish.

He wanted to see him one last time too.

“I know. I’m going to go to his house next.”

Vince seemed happy and gave him a small smile. Nikki took a deep breath and got out of Neil's mansion, feeling every type of emotion.

God, now it was show time.

[impalas-r-important]

Love of my Life - (1) All's fair in love and snowball fights.

Pairing: Dean x reader(ish)

Warnings: N/A

Summary: You and Dean were inseparable from the moment you met; a true match made in heaven. You were killed in the big showdown with Lucifer and Michael (S5), but were brought back to life along side Sam. Heartbreak quickly took over your life after finding out that Dean had already moved on with Lisa so soon after your death.

Series Masterlist

-------------‐--------------------------------

You sighed as you looked over at Sam and Dean. You and Sam had been doing research for 5 straight days trying to help Bobby out with a case. Dean would come over and help when he could. Sam was in the living room, his nose buried in a book and Dean was sitting with his feet up on the kitchen table, pretending to look studious as he fought off his heavy eye lids. You stood up to stretch your legs and wandered over to the window. It had snowed all night and all morning, leaving the outside world blanketed with pillowy, inviting flakes. The corners of your mouth crept up in a slight smile as an idea came to your mind. You quickly grabbed your jacket that had been slung across the back of your chair which startled Dean enough to wake him up. He sloppily wiped a bit of drool from his mouth and looked over to find an irritated Sam glaring at him. You jogged a few steps to the back door and pulled your boots on.

“Where are you going?” You could hear Sam ask from the other room.

“I’ll be right back!”

You stepped outside and the chilly wind instantly burned the back of your throat, but you didn’t care. You were just happy to not be looking at the worn pages of another lore book. You bent down and scooped the snow together in your hands creating 2 perfect snowballs. A mischievous grin spread on your face as you stomped back into the living room of Bobby’s house. Sam was your first target; he was so unaware of what was about to hit him. Literally. You pulled back your arm, took your aim, and launched the snowball, nailing him square in the face. The shocked look on his face was priceless.

“Hah!” Dean looked up and tauntingly laughed from the table on the other side of the room. His laugh quickly turned into a frown as you threw the second snowball at him. He paused and blinked a few times before wiping the snow from his face. He turned to look at you, and you couldn’t tell if he was angry or not. The three of you exchanged glances, a few seconds of silence passing while you all gauged the situation before Dean stood up giving you a perfect, playful smile.

“Oh, sweetheart, you don’t know what you just started.” He ran at you and you turned to run away, giving a squeal as you did. You were fast, but Dean was faster. You had a few good steps on him, but as you reached the staircase, he grabbed you by your waist, throwing you over his shoulder and marching out the door with you.

“Let me go!” You laughed as he tickled your sides.

“If you say so.” He ran across the yard and gently tossed you into a big snowbank, giving your system a shock. You shot up and tried to shake the snow out from your clothes.

“This means war, Winchester!” You shouted as you ran full speed at Dean, rugby tackling him into the few feet of snow piled up behind him.

Sam popped out from behind an icy car with an armful of huge snowballs. “Gotcha both!” He exclaimed as he pelted the two of you. Dean pulled you underneath him and turned his back to Sam, protecting you. You got lost in his green eyes for a moment as he pulled his face close to yours. “One, two, three!” Dean counted down and you knew exactly what his plan was, without needing to discuss it. The two of you had always been on the same wavelength, making you the perfect hunting (and snowball fight) partners. You both turned and ran at Sam, Dean grabbed your hand tight and extended his arm as the two of you clotheslined the taller brother, knocking him backwards. You stole the few snowballs Sam had dropped and threw them at the two boys.

“I thought we were on a team now?!” Dean grinned at you as he crouched down and began to form the snow in his hands. He cocked his arm back and launched it at you as you ducked behind a car. It just missed you. You sat with your back to the car door, catching your breath and looking on either side of you, waiting for one of the boys to jump out at you.

Dean had climbed on top of the car and jumped down in front of you. “Ha ha! I’ve got you right where I want you!” You laughed and slipped as you tried to get up, causing you to laugh even harder. Dean pulled you backwards by your feet. Kneeling on either side of you, he pinned you down with a snowball in hand. “Do you surrender?!” He demanded.

“Yes, yes fine!” Your stomach hurt from all the laughing. Dean dropped the snowball and huffed. He flopped down in the snow next to you, catching his breath and letting out a little laugh.

“That was the most fun I’ve had in a long time. I mean, the look on Sam’s face when you threw that first snowball at him. Priceless!” He turned to look at you, pulling you close to him. “Thanks, Y/N/N.” It had been so long since you had seen Dean smile a genuine smile like the one he was giving to you now. Your heart fluttered and memories of your relationship came flooding back the minute you looked into his eyes. He looked back at you and for a moment, nothing and no one else existed. This felt so right and so natural, like it had always felt with him when you were together. This was a joy that you rarely felt anymore, and you knew that the only thing bringing it to you was Dean. He brushed a stray hair behind your ear as his eyes wandered down to your lips.

“Dean?” A distant voice called. It was Lisa. You both sat up quickly. Overwhelming happiness quickly turned to heart break.

“Crap!” Dean said under his breath as he checked his watch. “We’re supposed to go to a neighbor’s house for dinner tonight. I should have been home 40 minutes ago. I just lost track of time.” He stood up and brushed the snow from his clothes.

“I’m sorry, this is my fault. I shouldn’t have started that stupid snowball fight.” You apologized.

“No, no I haven’t laughed like that in…” Dean paused, “hell, I don’t know how long. Don’t you dare apologize for that.” He reached out a hand to help you up, but you waved him off.

“I’m okay, you go. It’s probably better if Lisa doesn’t see me. I’ll stay hidden behind this old hunk a’ junk until you guys leave.” You patted the car behind you and tried to muster up a fake smile. Dean didn’t buy it. Lisa hated when your relationship with Dean was brought up, and she equally disliked you being around him.

“Listen, Y/N/N, I- “

“Dean?!” Lisa’s voice interrupted him. She was clearly getting angrier and closer.

Dean opened his mouth as if to say something to you, but instead just exhaled and looked at you with longing eyes. You broke the eye contact after a few seconds and moved your gaze to the ground.

“Bye, Y/N.” Dean muttered. You could hear his footsteps crunch in the snow as he walked away.

“Where the hell were you?!” You could hear Lisa demand in the background.

“Sam and I were just having a snowball fight.” Dean tried to explain himself. You noticed he had left your name out on purpose.

“I swear you two are children when you are around each other.”

You hated the way she talked down to him. Like he was some disobedient puppy on a leash. You heard another set of crunching footsteps approach you. Sam walked around the car and sat down next to you; you leaned your head on his shoulder. Your heavy heart had returned, and you felt empty again.

A few moments passed as you both waited to make sure Dean and Lisa had left. Sam broke the silence once he heard the back door close. “You know, you can talk to me, right Y/N?”

“Yeah, Sammy, thank you.” You looked up and gave him a halfhearted smile.

“No, not like this beat around the bush kind of talking. Like, really telling me how you feel. About Dean, about Lisa, about life. Anything and everything. You can trust me to keep your secrets. I feel like you and I are in the same boat right now. Neither of us expected to die, never mind come back, and it’s hard to see how life, Dean especially, changed while we were gone. I can tell this is all weighing on you. You’re not the same as you used to be.” He arched his neck to look down at you as much as he could. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t like Lisa. Not at all. I don’t get what Dean sees in her. She has changed him into someone that I barely recognize, and I know you see it too.” Sam let out a small sigh of relief. “Man, I’ve been wanting to get that off my chest for a while.” His demeanor became more serious. “You know, I thought you and Dean would be together forever.”

His words helped you a little. “I thought we would be too. I guess I was just making our relationship out to be more than it really was.” You shrugged.

“What do you mean?” He questioned.

“I hadn’t even been dead for that long and he had already moved in with another woman. I’ve had a lot of time to think about this, and if the situations were reversed, then I would rather live the rest of my life alone than be with someone else if I lost Dean.”

“I don’t have an explanation for that, but I do know that you weren’t making it out to be more than it was. Dean was head over heels in love with you. I knew it from, literally, the moment we met you. And honestly, I think he still is. He just does a good job of hiding it.”

“Everyday hurts, Sam. Every time I have to see him with her.” You whispered. “Lately I’ve been asking myself why I’m still here. I mean, Dean asked us to stick around here and make a home base, but I don’t know if I can do that anymore.”

“You’re thinking about leaving?” He frowned.

“Yeah, maybe... I don’t know.” You traced circles in the snow beneath you. “What good am I doing here? Why do I keep putting myself through this pain? If I left, I could try and move on with my life.”

Sam nodded and waited a few moments before saying, “Well, I can’t stop you from leaving, or tell you how to live your life, but I’m going to miss you like hell if you do go. You’re literally my sister. But I understand where you’re coming from. I miss being out on the road and just living case to case. Domestic life isn’t for me, not right now anyway. But I could never leave Dean here by himself, so I’ll figure out a hybrid of the two.”

You didn’t say anything because you didn’t want to break down in tears. Sam could tell. “Let’s get back inside and change. It’s been a nice to take a break from research. We’ll go grab some hot chocolate and dinner before we dive back into the books. Deal?”

You smiled and nodded at him. Sam helped you up and put his arm around you as you walked back inside. “Sorry I hit you in the face with a snowball… multiple times.” You joked and elbowed his side a little.

“Oh, I’ll get you back for that at some point, don’t you worry. It was just good to see a glimpse of the old you again.” Sam smiled and held the door open for you. It felt good to vent to Sam, and it felt even better knowing that he was on the same page as you about Lisa. You didn’t want to hate her; you weren’t that kind of a person. But you just couldn’t help it.

Chapter 2

[there-must-be-a-lock]

wings & the way down - part 2

Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: ~1580 this chapter

Warnings: Mild angst. Allusions to ~mysterious~ backstory. Strangers with cookies. 

A/N: Thank you all for your lovely comments on the last part! Catch up here if you missed it. Tag list for this is open. 

Friday, January 3: Derek

Derek is playing it cool. 

Or... he would be, if he could stop freaking the hell out. Whatever. 

He wants to be there early, just in case, and he hesitates. He should grab his basketball — tryouts next week, he should be practicing as much as possible — but then he’d have to carry it around while they walk. He grabs his dog-eared copy of Slaughterhouse-Five instead. 

Spencer seems like a reader. Maybe he’ll be impressed. Derek doesn’t have much experience trying to impress adorably geeky college guys, but that seems like a good start. 

He looks at himself in the mirror one more time and thinks, I can’t do this. 

Then he shakes it off, like he’d shake off the nerves before a big game, and he gives his reflection a smile. What’s the worst that can happen, right? He embarrasses himself in front of a pretty boy, he avoids the park, he never sees the guy again. After the year he’s had, some good old-fashioned rejection would be a cake walk. 

Playing it cool. He can do this. 

He walks downstairs, locking up behind himself and leaving the spare key in its spot — its “hidden” spot, which is a totally obvious fake rock, but apparently here in the suburbs you can just do that sort of thing. 

He walks, enjoying the sun, because January here feels like Chicago’s April. He’s not going to get used to this any time soon. 

Yeah. This was the right choice. 

You deserve to do it on your own terms, his mom said, when she hugged him goodbye in the airport. You can be whoever you want. 

It didn’t feel like he was trying to be someone else yesterday, though. It felt like he was being himself. 

He didn’t realize it could be easy like that, flirting with a guy, teasing and laughing and making Spencer smile. The stupid line came out like it was nothing. The fear only kicked in afterward. 

Derek knows he’s charming as fuck; he’s been making girls smile like that since he was fourteen. And it’s not a skeevy thing — not even necessarily a sex thing — he just likes making people smile. He likes the way they stand a little straighter when you compliment their shirt, or the way they bring a hand to the back of their neck when you admire their hair, and the way one nice comment can startle someone right out of a bad day. 

Speaking of. 

He’s walking into the park, now, and there’s a girl walking toward him, blonde with pink streaks in her high pigtails, wearing thick neon pink glasses and several violently colorful patterns. She looks like Miss Frizzle’s ditzier sister. He kinda loves it. 

“I like your glasses,” he tells her cheerfully, as they come face-to-face on the path. 

 Most people look startled, at first, when a stranger compliments them; they’re caught off-guard. Spencer looked like a deer in headlights, yesterday, when Derek caught his attention. 

Not this girl, though. Without missing a beat, she tosses back, “I like your face, sugar.” As their paths cross, she gives him a cheesy over-the-top wink. 

He retorts over his shoulder, “I ain’t that sweet, babygirl.” 

“I don’t believe you,” she sing-songs, and he’s laughing as they both continue on their way. 

Derek makes his way over to the same spot as yesterday, a round table between two curved benches. He pulls out his book and settles down to wait. Spencer isn’t there yet (which makes sense, considering that “same time” meant “two-ish” and it’s more like one-ish right now) but there are two older men playing chess at one of the tables nearby. Otherwise, it’s quiet: two women jogging, a few families on the playground, a guy throwing a ball for his dog. 

For a while, it’s actually a pretty awesome way to spend an afternoon. He doesn’t really notice how much time has passed until he shifts, stretching some cramped muscles. Then he checks his watch. 

They didn’t really set a definite time, though. It was vague. It’s not a big deal. 

Twenty minutes is a normal amount of time to be late. Derek has pulled that move on more than one first date — which begs the question: is this a date? — but he didn’t expect Spencer to be the type, somehow.  

He starts to get anxious around half past. He can think of a dozen excuses Spencer might use, but they’re all excuses he’s used himself, and they all boil down to I don’t actually care. 

He turns back to his book and tries to forget about the time.

At three, after re-reading the same page for the fourth time, he accepts that it’s a lost cause. He sets the book down on the bench and rests his face in his palms for a moment, taking a deep breath. 

Fuck. He is so not playing it cool. 

There was something about Spencer that Derek can’t stop thinking about, and it’s not his bone structure or his eyes or the way his fingers looked as he fiddled with his chess piece. It was the way he blushed and stuttered, completely flustered and unable to hide it, and the way he brushed it off with, “I’m not used to being flirted with.” It was a genuine reaction. He was being honest. He wasn’t trying to pose or posture or do any of the things Derek would’ve done to protect himself. 

It was the little crease between his eyebrows as he studied Derek intently — too intent to be polite — like Spencer was figuring him out, looking under the surface, seeing him in a way that people usually don’t, because most people don’t care enough to look. Most people miss what’s right in front of them. 

It was the way he sat, legs crossed, unpretentious and almost childlike. 

It was different. He wasn’t hiding anything. Derek’s been hiding a lot, these last few years. It was nice to be around someone who wasn’t, and who made it look easy. 

And yeah, it was also his cheekbones and eyes and fingers and smile, because Derek is only fucking human. 

At quarter past, he starts to wonder what he did wrong. 

Yeah, I’m flirting with you. 

It was like a free-fall, the pause after the words, that frozen moment of can’t take it back now and this is going to change everything. It’s the same hot-cold-terrifying-exhilarating shock he felt in the pause after he came out to his mom — same as the moment right before the jury gave their verdict — same as the moment he walked into school the next day. 

But it was different, because Spencer smiled, all slow and shy. No betrayal, no creeping disgust, no pointed questions or even more pointed silence. 

That easy acceptance took Derek’s breath away. It felt like freedom. It felt like the moment the plane’s wheels lifted off the tarmac, the sickening lurch in his stomach, the blaze of something like defiance as he watched Chicago recede into the distance. 

Spencer smiled, and Derek felt like he could’ve ignored the laws of physics and flown away. If that was what “being out” usually feels like, he could see why people might want to do it. The moment of free-fall — this is going to change everything — was worth it, for that. 

This, though? There’s something cold and leaden sitting in his chest, dragging him rudely back down to earth. He should just go. This is an embarrassing amount of time to wait around for some random guy. 

“Tell me who I need to punch,” somebody calls. “A face like yours should never be frowning, sweetness.” 

It’s the colorful girl from earlier, and Derek can’t help but smile at the way she stomps over and sits down across from him, matter-of-fact and brazen like they’ve known each other for years. 

“I was just waiting for you, babygirl,” he tells her, turning the charm up to eleven, and she rolls her eyes. 

“Penelope. The pleasure is all yours.” She holds her hand out for him to shake — her nails have tiny daisies painted all over them — and Derek kisses it instead. 

“Derek Morgan. Charmed, I’m sure.” 

“So who’s the girl that’s got you all tragic-looking?” she asks, and rummages in her massive bag for a minute before pulling out a tupperware of cookies. “Want one? They’re still warm. I was at my friend’s house, she needed some cheering up, we baked. I promise I’m not some creepy creep who’s going to lure you into their white van, oh my god, I just realized that I’m a complete stranger, and this is totally weird! But — cookies?” 

“I’d follow you anywhere, babygirl. And I will totally take a cookie.” He takes a bite of melty chocolate chips and moans. “Marry me?” 

“Alas, your heart belongs to another,” she says solemnly. “I know that face. Spill.” 

“Got stood up, but...” Derek chews as slowly as he can manage. “Wasn’t a girl.” 

He’s starting to get used to that free-fall sensation. It’s not so bad this time around. 

“Oh my god, I shouldn’t have assumed, I’m sorry! Men, right?” She heaves a dramatic sigh, and Derek tries to hide his own quiet sigh of relief. “The worst, I swear.” 

“No biggie. Other fish in the sea, right?” 

“Have another cookie.” 

“Woman, you are a goddess. I am so glad I met you.” 

“I’m glad you met me too, Derek Morgan.” 

.

.

part three here! 

.

[dadoroki]

Every Comic Has A Story

Tomura Shigaraki x Reader

Warnings: softboi shiggy, fluff, swearing

Summary: When Japan’s most dangerous villain meets a witty and flirty comic store clerk.

The mall was unsurprisingly packed, as it was the weekend. Everyone had something to do or somewhere to go. Shopping for items, chatting with friends. Not for Shigaraki though.

After his tight encounter with Midoriya, he walked the crowded mall all alone, stuck in his own thoughts. How could he become stronger? To become better than Stain? To defeat All Might? His thoughts would be dispersed when a loud angry voice boomed from his right side.

“How many times do I gotta tell you kids? This stuff is 18+!” Shigaraki turned his attentive gaze towards your voice, a voice that could instantly gain anyone’s attention. Well, aside from how loud it was. He slowly walked into the store, staring at a messy rack full of comics but secretly eavesdropping on the conversation.

“Ma’am, I’m 18! See?” The boy handed you an ID card, one that instantly made you aware of how fake it was. The card was poorly constructed and taped for crying out loud. “You all look 12. Now get lost before I call one of those bad guys to come down and beat your asses.” The boys ran out of the shop in a hurry, fearing for their lives. You turned your attention to the new customer who wore his black sweater a bit too suspiciously. “Aye, you.”

Shigaraki calmly turned his head towards your direction. He was sure to cover his face, hanging his head down low. “You’re lookin’ hella suspicious. Did you come here to shoplift?” He stood in his place, squinting his eyes at the ground. Were you always this talkative and annoying? “Are you profiling me?”

You were taken aback by his response, moving your hands and shaking your head frantically. “Uh, no. Not at all. Sorry.” His face filled with annoyance, moving to grab a random comic and walking to your counter. You glanced at the book he chose, ‘Pretty Princess Diaries’. A giggle couldn’t help but escape your lips, causing Shigaraki to grow more agitated. You reached under the counter and grabbed a more suitable comic for him. “I think you’d enjoy this better. It’s about the psychology of the villain, Memphis, and how he defeats the heroes.”

There was no reason as to why he even stepped foot in the comic store but this was perfect for Shigaraki. It would give him many ideas and ways to help in the current situation he was in. However, he wasn’t willing to pay the price. “I don’t feel like buying this.” He began to lower his final finger on the cover page, ready to deteriorate it. That way, you’d be frightened by him. “Oh, don’t worry. It’s on the house.”

He removed his entire hand completely away from the comic, watching you take it and place it in a white bag. Confusion was the only emotion he was feeling. You handed him the bag with a smile. Even though you could barely see his face, he strongly caught your interest. He looked mysterious and interesting. Or maybe you’ve just been reading too many romance themes. “If you like it, come back and get the next one.”

Shigaraki looked at you with disgust, fully aware of the love eyes you sent him. He mumbled a quick “sure” and left the store, hoping to never step foot inside ever again.

When he got back from the long travel, he tossed the bag to the side and slumped on his cold bed. He glanced at the plastic bag before pulling out the comic and taking a long look at it. A dark matte cover, red cheapfire font imprinted in the center, and underneath was the main villain. Shigaraki had nothing else better to do so he decided to read only a bit of it. Going from one page, to thirteen, to forty, until it reached the end. He wasn’t aware but it was already 4am in the morning.

Shigaraki entered the store, the same place he refused to step foot in again. He placed the white bag on the counter, setting his empty hands back in his pockets. “I need the next one.” You could barely understand him through his mumbling, causing you to lean in closer. You noticed a few of his hidden features. His fragile face, chapped lips. Chapped lips?

“Nah, what you really need is some chapstick for those crusty ass lips.” You grabbed your cherry lip balm from your purse, holding it out to him with a wink. “You can have mine. It’s my favourite flavour.” Shigaraki snatched the item from your hand, shoving it in his pocket with a huff of annoyance. Your flirtatious presence really started to get on his nerves.

This would be his last visit to you and he couldn’t wait to leave but then, a thought popped off in his head. He needed a pawn to do his dirty work. The work that he nor his group could carry out due to the huge attention it would gain. He needed someone who was as easy as you. “You know, you’re quite a view.”

You raised a brow, not expecting the sudden compliment. “Oh, thanks.” Shigaraki wasn’t the best at flirting but he needed to try in order to fully wield you in. “When’s your lunch break?” You sat straighter in your chair, a smile slowly forming across your face. You weren’t really sure when but you knew your friend would cover your shift if he knew about the situation. “I can end now. Eijiro!” You called in the back room. “I need you to cover my shift please.”

Without even waiting for a response, you grabbed your purse and stood beside an irritated Shigaraki. He didn’t expect to be hanging out with you so soon and wasn’t fully mentally prepared for your excessive energy. It was going to be a long dreadful day.

You both sat on the edge of the water fountain, ice cream in hand. It had only been an hour and Shigaraki was ready to end himself. You gladly licked your ice cream while he sat still, staring at you. Everything about you annoyed him. The way you sat perfectly under the mall sunroof or how graceful you looked eating your ice cream. You took notice of the way his pinky extended away from his cone. “What are you, British?” You pointed at his finger, causing him to look down at it. “I don’t think all British people do that.”

You shrugged your shoulders, standing up from your spot. He followed your movements, his height causing him to look down on you. You embraced him in a tight hold, feeling the rigidness of his body. “I had a great time. By the way, what’s your name?”

He wasted no time in saying his name, incapable of standing your presence any longer. “Shigaraki.” Finally, you’d regret spending the day with him and leave him alone. You stood there silent in confusion, resting a finger on your chin. “Huh, like the villain?” Holy shit, this girl was dumber than he thought. “Anyways I gotta go. Come by tomorrow so we can do this again.” You left him speechless, standing all alone in the middle of the busy mall.

He was sure of giving up. You weren’t worth all the mental suffering but here he was with you again, walking around the same mall. Earlier, he had mentioned how he hated holding hands so instead, you linked your arm with his while he had his hands in his pockets. The big advertisement sign of skincare caught your attention, stopping you in your tracks and making him do the same. “Look Shigz, we should go in. You need that.”

You looked up at him with a cheeky smile, causing him to groan in revulsion. He wasn’t sure why he was going along with it. Applying chapstick was enough for him but to you, if it worked on his lips, it would definitely work on his face.

He noticed all the skin products on display, walking down the extremely bright aisle. He heard his nickname being called and turned around, feeling your soft hands rub against his face. “You said you had a skin condition so the employee recommended me this.” Shigaraki watched as you ran your fingers from his face, all the way down to his neck. He never recalled feeling another human’s touch in such a caring way.

You both made your way towards the counter, paying for the product and leaving. To his surprise, he actually bought the cream. The very first time in his life, he actually bought something instead of stealing it. You were a bad influence on him and his work and he needed nothing more than to depart from you.

“Shit, it’s almost time for my shift.” You stood on your tippy toes, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek before steadily jogging off. “I’ll see you soon!” Never in his life had he been given such affection. Shigaraki touched the area of where your lips had kissed with delicate fingers.

That night, he tossed and turned in his bed, struggling to find sleep. You were an internal battle to him. On one side, he hated your guts and wanted nothing more than to escape from you. On the other, he hated to say it but he enjoyed your company. The way you made him feel something he’d never felt in all his years of living. He decided at that moment, he’d confess to you. No, nothing romantic in any way but strictly his identity. The identity that you somehow failed to process.

“What do you mean she doesn’t work here?” The next day, Shigaraki stepped foot in the comic shop, only to be told you weren’t there. The new clerk adjusted his glasses. “I’m sorry, sir. You’re gonna have to describe her.” A now frustrated Shigaraki grew heavily impatient, not having the time to deal with this. He realized he never asked for your name, a stupid rookie mistake he made. “She’s this short, (y/h/c) hair, (y/e/c) eyes, a little slow, annoying, and dumb.”

The man shook his head with a puzzled face. “I’m sorry but I just started working here and I don’t know much of who works here.” Shigaraki scratched his neck, seconds away from decaying him but restraining himself. “What’s the point of asking me that question then?”

He walked out of the store defeated. Shockingly, he didn’t reach over the counter to kill the goof. You really were a bad influence on him. A moment of walking later, he felt a tap on his shoulder. “Shigz.”

He recognized the fine voice all too clearly. He started to broil in anger. In a matter of seconds, he quickly spun around to face you. “Where were you? I tried visiting you and you weren’t there.” You were astounded, never witnessing Shigaraki this mad before. Usually, he was calm and quiet. “I quit my job. They weren’t paying good.”

He closed his eyes, letting the stress leave his body. “Listen closely.” He opened his red eyes which met yours. In that instant, he wasn’t sure what to say. He wanted to express how he felt but his feelings were too complicated and corrupted. “Like I said, I’m Tomura Shigaraki. The leader of the League of Villains.”

“Uh, yeah. You already told me.” He paused in perplexity, having the inability to speak or understand the situation. What did you mean you already knew? For the longest time, he thought you weren’t the brightest and he was okay with that. You began to laugh, trying to maintain it with a hand clasped on your mouth. “Did you really think I didn’t know? It was pretty obvious, Shigz. I just wanted to get to know you as you. Not how everyone sees you.”

He stood motionless feeling flabbergasted, allowing you to grab onto his arm. “I never asked you for your name.” If he never mentioned it, you’d had completely forgotten about it. “(Y/n).”

“(Y/n)” He trailed in a slight whisper, repeating after you. “Why don’t I take you on a proper date?”

With the biggest smile that warmed Shigaraki’s cold heart, you held him in closer.

“I would like that a lot.”

[authorialarcanist]

Monster Collector (Tales of Symphonia)

Summary: When Lloyd and Colette drag the party off to complete the Monster Book, Raine can't help but wonder about what her students are thinking.

Written for Colloyd Week 2021 Day 2: Sidequest.

Gen, crack.

—

“Lloyd, watch out!”

“Right!” Lloyd leapt out of the way of a hammer blow from a massive bear, forewarned just in time by Colette’s shout. “It’ll take more than that to beat me, you know! Hurricane Thrust!” Air burst out from his sword in every direction as he jabbed back at the bear, sending it stumbling away. “Thanks, Colette! It’s open now!”

“Right!” Colette darted forward, multicolored wings carrying her to her target before it could regain its balance, and plowed headfirst into its fuzzy stomach. Nonplussed by the impact, the monster closed its arms to catch the girl in a painful bear hug, only for Colette to raise one of her chakrams in celebration, leaving a deep gash in its face where it had leaned in. “Yay, I got something! Okay, Lloyd, that’s everything I can get from this one!”

Lloyd pumped his fist, and shouted “You two can finish it off now!”

Raine Sage, half-elf teacher and current world-saving tagalong, raised an eyebrow at her compatriot. Zelos shrugged back.

“I don’t get it any more than you do, but I guess we’re doing this! Get ready!”

“I suppose it’s just as well… Now!” Raine raised her staff above her, and light gathered around Tethe’Alla’s Chosen.

“Plasma Blade!” With a shout, Zelos charged at the bear sword-first. Raine’s magic propelled him easily into and past his target, causing it to collapse to the ground in pain. To add insult to injury, a bolt of lightning struck its prone form a moment later, bringing the battle to an end.

“Annnd… there we go! Colette, what did you get from it?” By the time Raine looked back at her students, Lloyd had already pulled out a red book and a pen, and was examining some sort of herb Colette was holding out to him. “Alright! That’s one more down!”

“That’s great, Lloyd!” Genis, Raine’s younger brother, ran up to Lloyd from where he’d been waiting in the back line. “Only… Does that mean you’re going to tell us what we’re actually doing here, now?”

“Hm?” Lloyd looked up from putting the finishing touches on the book. “What do you mean?”

“I mean here, Lloyd!” Genis splayed his arms wide, and gestured at the mountainous terrain around the group. “You dragged us to this random patch of mountain, and never told us why!”

“Oh! Right! Whoops, I forgot about that!” Lloyd scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Well… Colette, why don’t you tell them?”

“Uh-huh!” Colette stepped forward with a wide smile. “See, when we were in Izoold the other day, I heard a rumor that there’ve been sightings of a reeeaaaally big doggy up in these mountains! Apparently it’s been scaring goatherds and stuff! And there’s only one more entry we haven’t filled up in the Monster List, so I thought maybe it was the one we’re missing!” Lloyd nodded along beside her, and held up the empty page in demonstration.

Raine gave her two students a flat look. “…Lloyd. Is that really why we’re here?”

“Yeah! I mean, it’s really close to done, so we wanted to fill in that last slot!”

Raine sighed. “I’m loath to say this, since you’re apparently invested in your schoolwork for once, but… is this really the time? Aren’t there more important things we should be doing right now?”

“Eh. Kratos can wait!” Lloyd waved his left hand dismissively. “I mean, he’s like a thousand years old or something, right? A couple days should be like a minute to him! We can go and break Origin’s Seal once we’ve finished up with this!”

Suddenly, everybody jumped at a loud crashing sound. They turned to the source, to see Presea standing over a felled tree. The trunk was now bridging a gap that led to the path further up the mountain. “…Getting the Eternal Sword, and reuniting the worlds. Is less urgent than filling an empty page…?”

“I mean, yeah!” Lloyd nodded without a trace of irony. “Who knows what this place’ll look like once we’ve reunited the worlds, right?”

“Uh-huh!” Colette quickly backed him up. “And anyways, once we go to meet Kratos, we’ll have to deal with—mmmph!” Lloyd quickly covered her mouth. The two shared a meaningful look before he let go. “…Um, whoops! Ignore that, hehe!”

“Alright, what are you two hiding from us? Annnd… yoink!” Taking advantage of the brief distraction, Zelos leaned over and snatched the Monster List out of Lloyd’s free hand.

“Wh- hey! Give that back!” Lloyd dove at Zelos, trying to grapple for the purloined book, but his face met the ground instead as the Chosen leapt out of the way.

“Let’s see, here… No. 234, Meredy… No. 235, Abyssion, man that guy was an asshole… No. 236, Z—“ Zelos cut off with a choking sound, all the blood draining from his face.

“Hmm? What is it, Zelos?” Raine walked to Zelos, intending to check the list herself.

“…Hey, Lloyd? Hunny? Bud?”

Lloyd gulped. “Y…yeah?”

“Why do Ihave an entry in the Monster List?”

“Ehe…heh…”

Raine leaned over Zelos’ shoulder. Sure enough, there it was: a little, surprisingly well-drawn, sketch of Zelos facing the reader with orange wings spread behind him. Located at the Final Seal… Strong against lightning and light elements… Drops… “Zelos, were you hiding a Mystic Symbol from us?”

“What? No!” Zelos dropped the book in a panic. “I haven’t got anything like that, promise!”

“Hrm. Nevertheless, this is certainly odd. Lloyd…” Raine wheeled on her student, the righteous fury of a scorned teacher at her fingertips ready to be called. “Have you been writing fake entries to fill space…?”

“Wait! Hold on, Professor!” Colette stepped in front of Raine, shielding Lloyd from her wrath. “Lloyd hasn’t been cheating, I promise! It’s just… a reeeally long story, okay?”

Raine held Colette’s gaze for several long moments, but the girl didn’t seem to just be covering for Lloyd. Raine sighed. “Fine. But we’d better get an explanation once this is over, alright?”

“Ehehe…” Colette wilted and gave a sheepish smile. “A-anyways, let’s just keep going. We still need to find that doggy, right Lloyd?”

“R-right!” Lloyd, climbed back to his feet, and grabbed the Monster List from where it lay. “Come on, everybody! I’m pretty sure we’re almost there!”

Raine watched with a pensive expression as he clambered over the felled tree. Her students had changed a lot over the course of their journey, but… she wondered if they’d changed faster than she’d realized.

———

The group was resting at the peak of the mountain. After much searching, they’d at last found their errant beast; now, they were just waiting for Genis to prepare a meal to restore their energy.

Raine watched as Lloyd and Colette dance around, twirling each other by both hands and singing “Hun-dred per-cent! Hun-dred per-cent!”

Regal sat down next to her. “They certainly seem to be enjoying themselves.”

“Yes.” Raine nodded absent-mindedly. “For all that they’ve grown, I suppose they arestill children.”

“Hm.” The two sat and watched in silence for a moment before Regal spoke again. “You’re still thinking about what happened earlier, aren’t you?”

“I am,” Raine replied. “Did you notice? Those two are incredibly in sync when they fight, like they’ve been fighting together for years instead of months. And… Every so often, I’ve noticed them looking at each other and giggling, like there’s some secret that only they are privy to.”

“…” Regal raised his eyebrow. “…Are you certain they’re not just—“

“I thought that at first, too! But now, I’m not so certain. I just… I’m their teacher. It’s my job to notice and step in if they’ve gotten involved in something strange.”

“It’s a good impulse, Raine.” Regal awkwardly shifted his handcuffs so he could pat her on the shoulder. “But… those two have proven themselves time and again, right? That’s why we’re following them.” He met Raine’s eyes, a serious expression on his face. “As adults, it’s our shared responsibility to be there for them, yes. But it’s also our responsibility to recognize when they’re starting to spread their wings and fly without our help. It’s our responsibility to trust them, and give them space, when that time comes. Whatever those two know, I don’t believe they would ever use it for ill.”

“Perhaps you’re right.” Raine watched as the two in question grabbed Sheena and pulled her merrily into their dance. Whatever was going on there, they clearly still cared about all of their friends being happy. Maybe it was time to sit back, and simply have faith in them.

…Lloyd’s face, grinning sheepishly every time he’d gotten wrapped up in some prank or work-avoiding scheme gone awry, flashed in front of her eyes.

Alas. It seemed that the habits of a teacher would not so easily fade. “…And if they areusing the power of the Eternal Sword to transcend time and space in order to turn their homework in on time?”

Regal coughed. “Then that sounds like it would be a disciplinary question for their instructor to deal with. Mirage!”

Raine’s jaw dropped as Regal’s form rapidly vanished into the distance. What happened to their shared responsibility as adults? “Regal Bryant, you get back here this instant!”

[capcarolsdanver]

Faking It (Part 4)

Summary: This was a request for a Carol Danvers fake dating fic that will be a multi-chapter series, likely 4 parts! Who doesn’t love a fake dating fic?

Stories come out about Carol and her.. sexual escapades. This could potentially be PR trouble for the Avengers so Tony and Steve convince Carol that maybe the best way out of this mess is to convince the public she is in a committed relationship.. with the reader, her best friend who has feelings for Carol, but believes her feelings aren’t reciprocated. What could possibly go wrong??

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader A/N: Okay, we all know this took way too long. I’m still not even entirely sure I’m happy with this chapter even after rewrites and edits but I’m not gonna have you guys wait any longer so this is what I’ve got for you! A head’s up, this part is long. Like, looong. As this is the final part to the series I really would appreciate any feedback people have for this part and the series as a whole! Also may consider writing an epilogue maybe sometime but that depends on feedback from this part! Really hope you enjoy this and I’d like to thank everyone who has read this series and liked/reblogged it! Please do not repost my writing anywhere without my permission. PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

“So. How’s it going with Carol?”

You and Nat are both lazing beside each other on the large couch in the open entertainment area of the compound, a blanket thrown over you both while some movie Nat had put on plays on the large screen on the wall.

A handful of the team had left earlier that afternoon for a mission, so you and Nat had decided to wait in the open room for them to return, knowing they’ll pass you on their way back into the compound. Carol was included in this mission and you were maybe a little too eager to see her return.

“Everything’s going according to plan,” you reply with a shrug. “We’re going to Tony’s party together on Saturday night.”

“Aw, cute,” she teases and you can’t help but chuckle at her.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?” All you can do is shake your head at her. Nat glances at you before watching the screen again. “Seriously, Y/N. Don’t you think that by now you should be able to admit your feelings for her? With what you’re going through, I think you should be allowed to vent and talk to someone about it.”

You remain silent for a long moment.

Out of everyone here, Natasha has always been the one who can read you so well, often times even better than yourself. So, you obviously know that she would have picked up on your feelings for Carol shortly after they developed, very likely before you had even known about them.

And Nat has always been one of your closest friends here besides Carol, so you know that anything you speak to her about will be kept between the two of you.

That’s what gives you the confidence to whisper a quiet “You’re right”, Natasha’s eyes flying from the screen to look at you again. She stays quiet but she doesn’t move her eyes from you.

“At least before all of this I could try to ignore it. But now- it’s impossible.” Your shoulders slump as you voice your thoughts. “I mean, we kissed, Nat. And it was so much better than I could have imagined.”

You let out a tired sigh and run your hand across your face. “I should have never agreed to this. How could I have expected this to end well?”

“Hey, listen. Things might not be how they were before this whole thing started, but why does that mean it has to be a bad thing?”

You look at Nat skeptically and she offers you a confident nod.

“Let’s go over the facts, okay? You and Carol have been flirting with each other for forever, though you’ve been trying to convince yourselves that it’s just playful banter. She practically melts every time you smile at her, which is a lot. I wish I’d never noticed the amount of times she’s undressed you with her eyes when you don’t look. And she literally took it upon herself to become the softest girlfriend imaginable without even realising that there was a camera on her.”

You blink at Nat as she lists things off, your mind racing at her words.

“So let’s face it. You both have feelings for each other. And correct me if I’m wrong but I think you might finally be starting to realise her feelings too, just like the rest of us always have.” Your blush is answer enough for Nat. “So who says that you both can’t come out of this with an even better relationship than you had before?”

You open your mouth to respond, but approaching voices make you stop. The returning Avengers walk into the room, voices booming and laughing loudly. You can’t make out a single word as they loudly chatter over the top of each other.

Amongst the group, Tony spots you and Natasha on the couch.

“There’s our best girls!” He says, grinning at the sight of you both. This causes Carol to glance in your direction too, finding your eyes already on her.

You smile and wave at her, though you feel a little dejected when she does nothing more than glance at you and Nat, giving you what barely qualifies as a smile and nods.

“You all made it back in one piece, then?” Nat asks.

“Depends on what you define as ‘one piece’,” Bucky replies cheekily, holding up his metal arm.

Nat snorts in response. “You’re an idiot.”

“Well I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m pretty beat. I’m turning in for the night,” Steve announces. The rest of the team nod in agreement, aside from Carol, who thinks she’s being subtle about looking at you, and Tony.

“I think I might head to the lab for a while. I’ve got some things to work on,” he says.

“Alright, suit yourself. See you all tomorrow,” Steve waves and heads in the direction of the team’s private rooms, the rest of the group in tow.

Carol seems unsure of what to do, moving to take a step after the group as she watches them walk away, but ultimately staying put where she is.

You hear Natasha let out a light laugh next to you and your eyes leave Carol’s form as Nat pushes the blanket off her lap and stands up, shooting you a quick wink.

“Need any help in the lab?” She asks, catching up to Tony.

“Sure. Although, I don’t know how much help I’m gonna get from you in there,” he jokes, earning himself a shove from Nat as they both laugh.

Carol watches them leave, keeping her eyes on the empty doorway for another moment before turning back to you. She finds your form somewhere in the pile of blankets you’ve been left with on the couch.

You sit up and adjust your position on the couch, acutely aware of her eyes on you the entire time.

“Well, are you gonna come sit with me, then?”

“Do you want me to?” Your brow furrows on its own accord at her cautious tone.

“Of course I do.”

She walks over to the couch and stops short, oddly quiet as she glances at you. You pat the spot next to you where Nat had just been and she smiles at you before sitting down.

“The mission went well, then?”

She nods. “Yeah, it went as smoothly as we could have hoped. It was pretty tiring, though. I’m definitely just glad to be back here now,” she says, her voice softening, and she maintains eye contact with you despite to hint of pink appearing on her cheeks.

“Yeah, me too,” you say.

You both just smile at one another until Carol eventually breaks the eye contact to look at the screen.

“So what are you watching?”

“Oh,” you say as you glance at the screen now, too. “I don’t actually know. Something Nat picked out that I really wasn’t paying a lot of attention to, to be honest.”

“Right.” There’s a beat of silence and you can how lost in thought Carol seems to be. “So what were you paying attention to, then?”

“Hmm?”

“Well, something obviously had you distracted,” she alludes and you catch onto what she’s implying pretty quickly.

“You’re still jealous of Nat?” You say it in a teasing tone, though you’re too busy studying Carol’s every move and expression to bother with the accompanying teasing smirk.

She shrugs, struggling to keep her eyes on you.

“You two just seem very close lately.”

“And you and I don’t?” You shoot back gently, curious to see how far you could push the particular topic.

At her stuttering, blush filled response, you touch her arm and she stops and looks at you.

“Nat and I aren’t together, if that’s what you’re wondering. Never have been and never will be.”

At this point, you aren’t sure if you imagine the relief that crosses Carol’s face or not, but it gives you the confidence that you need to get your next sentence out.

“Besides, as much as I love Nat, she’s well aware that she’s not my favourite.”

Carol is once again lost for words. She blinks at you a couple times before a rare shy smile graces her face.

“Okay, now that we’ve got that out of the way.” You reach across Carol for the remote and turn off whatever movie Nat had put on, going back to Netflix’s main page. “What do you want to watch?”

You hand Carol the remote and she begins searching through the selection of movies. While she does, you throw the blanket over her too, unable to hide your own smile.

“Ooh, I love this movie!” She says, landing on Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and hitting play and you both fall into a comfortable silence as the movie plays. This goes on for another 20 or so minutes before you glance at Carol, who you only just now realise looks absolutely exhausted.

Her eyes are still happily glued to the screen, though, so you don’t bother to try to coax her to go to bed. You instead move to rest your head on her shoulder and she throws an arm over you to pull you closer. You happily shift your body to melt further into Carol’s.

You’re not really sure how much more of the movie plays before your eyes close and you drift off to sleep.

————————

“Well isn’t this just the cutest thing?”

You’re pulled out of your slumber from the voice coming from somewhere above you. You barely react, though, scrunching your face and shifting your body a little, eyes remaining tightly shut.

“Quick, Nat. Get a photo.” This has you opening your eyes.

Clint and Nat are both standing over you, wide grins on their faces as they look down at where you and Carol are still huddled together on the couch. There’s blankets still covering you both, and you’re practically lying on top of Carol.

“What the fuck are you two doing?!” You growl as quietly as you can manage, glancing down at Carol to ensure you don’t wake her up as you careful manoeuvre yourself into a seated position.

“Oh, nothing. Just documenting this moment so on your wedding day you two can look back at how this all started and laugh,” Nat says, pointing her phone at you and taking several photos.

“I’m actually going to kill you,” you hiss, feeling Carol stir next to you.

“What the hell is going on?” She rubs her eyes and attempts to focus on the scene she’s suddenly found herself in.

“Why don’t you tell us, Miss “We’re not a real couple” Danvers,” Clint quips.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you wanted to die today,” Carol snarls back, her face immediately shifting into a harsh glare towards Clint.

“Alright, we’ve both already had our lives threatened, so I think it’s time we leave you two alone,” Nat laughs. She winks before she turns away and you grab a cushion from the couch and throw it after her as her and Clint walk away.

“Sometimes I forget that we’re surrounded by assholes almost all of the time here,” Carol deadpans and you chuckle, moving aside to allow her to sit up.

“Sorry I fell asleep on you last night. I’m starting to make a real habit of that, huh?”

“I don’t mind,” she says, that same smile from last night returning to her face. You smile back and for a long moment you both just sit there smiling at each other until your grumbling stomach breaks the silence.

Carol laughs at you. “Time for breakfast, then?” She teases, standing up and grabbing your arms to help you to your feet too. “Come on.” You both head towards the kitchen and when you enter the room, you stop at the sight of a familiar figure already behind the counter.

“Thor!” You exclaim, racing the rest of the way into the kitchen. Thor turns around and is greeted by you practically tackling him into a hug, though he doesn’t even slightly budge from the force of you colliding with him. Instead, he happily throws his arms around you too, beaming.

“Y/N! I missed you!”

Carol leans against the bench and looks on fondly.

Thor is practically like a big brother to you so you absolutely love it whenever he returns back to Earth from whatever space adventures he’s been on. When you two separate, Thor notices Carol too.

“Ah, Carol! Good to see you!” She smiles and nods. As you watch their somewhat awkward interaction, you can’t help but chuckle at the memory of when Thor once tried to hug Carol in greeting and got photon blasted halfway across the room.

They get along just fine. Pretty well, in fact. Carol always speaks highly of Thor and vice versa. But Carol just isn’t particularly affectionate with anyone besides you. And maybe Peter on the odd occasion.

She tends to not really expect it and usually reacts poorly, always offering a sheepish apology to whoever happens to be on the receiving end. But that had never really been an issue with you, which you’re glad about because you are definitely a hugger.

And if Carol really had to, she’d admit that she actually enjoys that about you, despite her general distaste of physical forms of affection.

“Woah, that’s a lot of pancakes, Thor,” you say, noticing multiple stacks on plates across the counter. Thor had always been a sucker for his favourite breakfast food since his first visit to Earth and whenever he comes back he can’t seem to get enough of them. He’d spent days upon days trying to perfect his recipe and make the perfect pancakes.

“Oh, please help yourself!” He happily offers and you and Carol thank him before grabbing a small stack of pancakes each.

“Were you gonna eat all of these on your own if we hadn’t shown up?” Carol asks Thor, who already has half a pancake stuffed in his mouth. He blinks at her, chewing on his food and swallowing it.

“…No,” he eventually replies, not even slightly convincing. You and Carol both laugh and he just shrugs before shoving the other half of his pancake in his mouth. “What can I say? I have a large appetite,” he mumbles out around his mouthful of food.

“When did you get back?” You ask.

“Early this morning.” You nod before noticing a shift in Thor’s expression. “You know, I noticed you on the couch this morning as I walked in. I almost said hello then until I realised you were both asleep.”

It’s not exactly a question he asks, not even an implication. It’s really just a statement. But the smile on his face tells you he thinks he knows what’s going on.

It’s honestly something you’ve always loved about Thor. The fact that he never outright voices his speculations about people’s personal lives, unlike the rest of the Avengers. Of course you always tell him everything eventually anyway, but until that happens he always gives you the space he feels you need to avoid making you uncomfortable.

Given the situation, though, you know you better give him the heads up before his welcome back party.

“Yeah. There’s definitely some things we need to catch up on,” you chuckle nervously.

“While you two do that, I’m gonna go get ready for the day. We’re still heading out today, right?” Carol asks, standing from her seat at the breakfast bar.

“Yeah,” you confirm.

When you last spoke to Steve and Tony, they were happy with how well you and Carol were doing and asked you to just make one more appearance out somewhere leading up to the party.

“Okay, I’ll meet you by the front in, like, 3 hours?”

“Sure,” you say and you and Thor watch as she leaves.

When you look back at Thor he has a cheery smile on his face, and you spend well over an hour explaining the situation, even confessing your feelings for Carol to him. You ask him about his most recent adventures, too, but being the type of guy he is, he’s more interested in listening to what you have to say and offering you advice.

You seriously couldn’t have picked anyone better to refer to as your big brother.

You eventually go your separate ways so you can get ready and catch up with Carol again. You check your watch on your way. You’re a little early but knowing Carol, she’s likely already there waiting for you.

You stop short before you walk through the walkway to the lobby of the compound when you hear Carol’s voice in conversation with someone else in the room.

“Do you think you’ll miss being able to flirt with as many women as you can at the party, then?” You recognise the other voice as Rhodey’s.

“I don’t know. Maybe,” Carol replies. “I mean, I usually find these parties a lot of fun. This one won’t be like that, though. I’m being made to stay on my best behaviour,” she jokes.

“So then what about Y/N? She’s holding you back from having fun?”

“It’s not that,” Carol says. “It’s just.. Tony’s parties are usually where I get to let loose, you know? I get to forget about all my responsibilities, forget about all the missions gone wrong and just enjoy myself. But this whole situation with Y/N.. it just kinda feels like I’m being kept on a leash.”

You’d be lying if you said Carol’s words didn’t sting. Ever since this whole mess of a situation began, you felt like things with Carol had been shifting. That things were different, even better now than before, like Natasha had said. But it sounds like maybe Carol doesn’t quite agree with you.

Had you really been wrong this whole time? Had Nat and the others swayed you into thinking that Carol shared the same feelings as you? Did Carol really think that you were holding her back from being happy and having fun?

Had you really been so blinded by your own feelings for so long that you had just been imagining Carol’s longing looks, more frequent touches, more caring nature towards you? Even when the cameras were nowhere to be scene.

Maybe she was just playing along to spare your feelings until she was told she could be done with this.

All these thoughts hit you at once, and despite how overwhelmed and hurt you suddenly feel, you take a deep breath and approach the doorway, taking heavier than usual steps to make your presence known before you enter.

“Hey, there you are,” Carol smiles. You offer her a short smile in return, though it doesn’t quite make it to your eyes, and you walk up to the front door and wait for Carol to join you. She approaches you, eyes watching you carefully. “Are you-“

“Let’s just keep this simple today and get it over with, yeah?” You say, eyes still remaining ahead as you reach for her hand.

She looks you over, concerned, but nods in response. “Yeah, okay.”

You lead her along in silence, which is how most of your simple walk goes. You smile at all the right times, but you manage to keep the talking down to a minimum and the second you return to the compound you bid a short farewell to Carol and leave her standing alone, confused like never before.

————————

You manage to keep to yourself for the most part over the next day or so, though as the party approaches you know you can’t really continue avoiding everyone. Especially since you and Carol had already agreed to get ready together in your room.

As promised by Tony, Happy delivered your outfits to your rooms in time for the party. Carol is currently in your bathroom getting ready while you look yourself over in your mirror, smoothing your hands over the front of your dress. You’re wearing a navy a-line dress, with spaghetti straps and a side slit exposing the skin of your leg. Simple yet beautiful.

Your bathroom door opens while you admire your dress in the mirror and your eyes drift to the reflection of the doorway as Carol hesitantly steps through. Your breath is taken away from you as you look her over.

She’s wearing a navy suit jacket and a pair of tight trousers that match your dress, a white blouse underneath, the top button left undone. You feel your brain short circuit as you look at her. Again, the outfit itself is simple but it works so well. Especially on Carol.

Tony was right; Happy is good. You’ll have to compliment him on his unexpectedly good eye for fashion the next time you see him.

She joins you in front of the full length mirror, staring at her own form and nervously adjusting the jacket.

“I’m pretty sure this is the fanciest I have ever looked heading to one of Tony’s parties,” she admits. You chuckle and double check your makeup in the mirror, happy with what you’ve done. Carol seems to be doing the same but is evidently not pleased with some of her makeup, grabbing her eyeliner to attempt to fix it.

“Here,” you hold your hand out and she passes her eyeliner pen over to you. Carol has never really been as into makeup as you, which obviously makes a lot of sense with her being up in space so often. But you’re always more than happy to assist whenever she needs help with it.

She’s gotten much better with it on her own over the years, though, what with her increase in social events with the Avengers. As a result, you only have to fix her eyeliner a little on each eye before you pull back and check your work.

“Perfect,” you say, putting down the eyeliner and turning to the mirror once more. Looking at yourself and Carol next to each other, it’s striking just how good you both look together. You may be biased, but everything just seems to fit so well.

You feel eyes on you and catch Carol’s gaze in the mirror.

“You look beautiful,” she breathes out as if she’s only just looked at you in your dress for the first time.

You can’t help it, but the words you overheard her say replay in your head. You feel your walls build up around you, telling you to be cautious to spare your own feelings.

“Thanks, so do you.” You reply somewhat stiffly. You can’t seem to do anything about the tone you speak in, so instead you drop your eyes from her and scan the room for anything else you might need, acutely aware of the step Carol takes towards you.

“Are you okay?” She asks and her hand comes to rest delicately on the side of your neck, her thumb stroking your cheek.

“Yeah, of course,” you say a little too quickly for Carol’s liking and you step back out of her reach, her hand falling back to her side. You spot your phone on the edge of your bed and pick it up, checking the time. “We better go. You ready?”

You barely give Carol room to answer before you open your door and step out into the hallway. She swallows thickly as she watches you, trying to figure out what’s changed in the last day or so to have you in such a cold mood.

When she steps out of your room to join you, she’s also greeted by Tony. He has a huge grin on his face and he whistles when he sees her.

“Wow, look at you two. Stunning.” He smiles at you like a proud dad. “So, listen. It’s a welcome back party, right? I know it’s still kinda fancy but it’s about as casual as my parties will ever get. There shouldn’t be too much pressure on the two of you.”

“Got it,” you nod.

“Obviously there will still be a lot of eyes on you. But that’s kind of the entire point. Just act like any regular, happy couple and we’ll be all set.” Tony says. “See you in there.” He smiles encouragingly at you and walks away, presumably to join the party.

Carol offers you her hand, which you take, and she walks you towards the large hall that Tony has designated for the party. You’re glad he chose one that was further away from the bedrooms. It gave you plenty of time to attempt to calm your nerves.

You walk through the large open doors and immediately it feels like all eyes are on you. It’s a feeling you aren’t at all comfortable with, but you just try to ignore it the best you can.

“Y/N!” You hear being called from the bar and look to see Thor enthusiastically waving you and Carol over. Carol nods at you and you walk hand in hand towards the bar.

The second you get near Thor he engulfs you both in a hug which Carol couldn’t have avoided even if she tried. He lets go of you with a massive smile on his face.

“Carol, may I interest you in a proper drink?” He holds up a flask of Asgardian alcohol for her to see and her face lights up until she glances at you.

“Uh, I better not tonight, actually,” she mutters. And again, her damn words from the previous day are right back in your head.

Thor doesn’t hide his surprise at her answer. “Later, then?” He asks hopefully.

“Maybe. We’ll see.”

Thor nods and sees Steve approaching the bar, eagerly pouring a drink for him and handing it over to him. Carol looks more than tempted to reconsider Thor’s offer but instead pulls you away by your linked hands to join another conversation.

This goes on for the next couple of hours, moving between groups to chat and give a pretty convincing appearance as couple of the year. You eventually find yourself standing against the wall with Carol, observing the partygoers.

“It’s going well so far, right?” Carols asks.

“I think so,” you say with a shrug, though you’re honestly unsure quite how to gauge how well it’s going just yet.

“Have you actually noticed any reporters?”

“I’m not sure. There’s been a lot of eyes on us the entire night so far, though, so I figure that’s a good thing.”

“Yeah. Do you think we should be acting more couple-y?” Carol asks, facing you more directly. She moves her hand to your waist, looking at you in question.

Of course, you lose yourself in her eyes, allowing yourself to enjoy this feeling for just a moment. You’re only human, after all.  But it doesn’t take long for her words to repeat in your head once more, and not even the way Carol glances down at your lips can get you out of your own head.

Before she can kiss you, you lean forward to press a quick kiss to her cheek.

“I think we’re doing okay,” you offer a small smile and pull away. “I’m gonna grab another drink and go talk to Wanda if that’s alright with you?”

“Oh. Sure, that’s fine.”

“I’ll come find you soon,” you say, squeezing Carol’s hand for good measure before you leave her to watch after you in total confusion as you walk away.

————————

“Hey, Thor. That drink still on offer?”

“Yes!” Thor says excitedly. Carol leans against the bar next to him and as soon as he’s done pouring her a drink she takes a sip.

“Oh, Jesus. I forgot how strong this shit is,” she winces and Steve laughs from the other side of Thor.

“I know, right?” He says, holding his drink up before drinking what’s left in his glass.

Carol knows to pace herself with this stuff. It affects her like absolutely nothing else. Usually, when Thor is there to offer it to her, she goes hard and ends up waking up in the bed of a total stranger with no recollection of what happened, though with a pretty good idea.

That can’t happen tonight for obvious reasons.

As Thor launches into one of his insanely eventful stories, she rests her arm on the bar and sips her drink, surveying the room until she spots you. You’re standing with Wanda, laughing at something the other woman has just said.

Something stirs inside Carol as she loosely follows along with Thor’s recounting of his journeys, all the while periodically looking for you amongst the many people crowding the room. She watches you excuse yourself from Wanda, heading over to talk to Sam and Bucky.

Somewhere in the middle of Thor recounting the events of a very graphic battle that he was apart of, Tony joins the conversation. Carol nods at him, taking another sip of her drink and doing another scan of the room. She eventually finds you in the crowd.

Having excused yourself from Sam and Bucky, you’re en-route to another group when a beautiful woman shows up seemingly out of nowhere, touching your arm to get your attention. Carol immediately freezes, her eyes locking in on the action. You stop to chat with the girl, a soft smile on your face that Carol regrettably realises she hasn’t seen all night until now.

Hey eyes stay glued to you, Thor’s stories long forgotten. Tony moves over to stand next to Carol.

“You two have done well tonight, you know?” He says, his eyes on the party in front of him.

“You’re not playing it too strong, too. The perfect amount of PDA in my opinion.” At the lack of a response, Tony turns his head to look at Carol. She clearly hasn’t paid attention to a word he’s said and he curiously turns to see whatever has Carol’s attention.

He sees you, laughing at something the unknown woman has just said. She takes a step closer to you as you take a sip of your drink. He looks back, studying the expression on Carol’s face for a moment.

“Wait a second, what exactly is happening here, Danvers? Don’t tell me you’re jealous?”

Carol’s eyes finally move from you, snapping to Tony’s.

“What? No. I’m just worried about our cover.”

Tony arches a disbelieving eyebrow. “Uh huh, I’m sure that’s exactly what you’re worried about.”

Carol glares at him, a common occurrence these days, but then her eyes are back on you, unable to help herself. She furrows her brow when the woman places her hand on your arm and keeps it there and she finally can’t watch anymore.

“Alright,” she says, grabbing her glass and downing the rest of her drink with a wince. “Nice chat, Stark, but I’ve gotta go.” She slams her glass back on the bar counter before storming off towards you without another word. Tony watches her leave.

“Yep. She’s got it so bad.”

You are so focused on the woman standing right in front of you that you jump when an arm appears at your waist.

“Hey babe,” Carol greets. She presses a kiss to your cheek and turns to the other woman, offering her nothing short of the fakest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Sorry, do you mind if I steal my girlfriend for a minute?”

To the woman’s credit, she does look a little sheepish as she steps back. “No, go right ahead.”

“Thanks,” Carol says with a bite to her tone, grabbing your hand and dragging you through the party and to one of the smaller balconies attached to the hall.

When you’re sure you’re out of sight and out of earshot from at least the majority of the party-goers you rip your hand out of Carol’s grasp and sharply turn to her, stopping her in her tracks with your glare.

“What the hell, Danvers?”

“What? I can’t just have you potentially blowing our cover like that.”

“Oh, please,” you scoff. “Our cover is just fine. Nothing was even happening. I was just talking to her.”

“Just talking? It looked like more than that to me. She was on her way to being all over you.”

“All over me like you usually are with as many random girls as you want? So now I can’t even have a regular conversation with just one girl?”

“I haven’t even looked at any other girls tonight, let alone flirted with them. And since when do you chat to women at Tony’s parties, anyway?”

You weren’t expecting the accusatory tone in Carol’s voice, and it makes you see red. You’ve done so well to keep your feelings at bay since you’d overheard Carol talking to Rhodey, but she’s finally tipped you over the edge now.

“Okay, I think I get it now. You can’t have fun and let loose like usual so now you want to make me feel like shit for talking to someone new. Is that right?”

Carol is completely caught off guard by your anger. It would have been hard for her not to notice your cold demeanour the last couple days, but now she knows for sure that all has been directed at her.

“Y/N, that’s not it-“

“Are you sure? Because I know you think I’m the one keeping on a leash but right now it’s feeling a lot like it’s the other way around.”

“What?” Carol blinks at you, trying to make sense of your words.

“Well that’s what you told Rhodey, right? You’re being held back. You can’t have any fun. You’re being kept on a leash.”

“Y/N,” Carol starts.

“Don’t try to deny it, Carol. I heard you say it.”

Everything actually makes sense to Carol now. She isn’t sure how she hadn’t pieced it together before that you’d possibly overheard her. At least now, though, she knew she could clear things up for you. Thank god, because she’s now gotten a taste of being in your bad books and she isn’t particularly enjoying it.

“I won’t deny it. I do feel like I’m being kept on a leash,” she simply says. You scoff again and shake your head, already getting ready to walk away before Carol grabs your arm to keep you in place.

“But I never said you were the one holding me back. Hell, you’re the one thing keeping me sane through this whole thing.”

You maintain your harsh glare, though you stop trying to pull your arm from her.

“I just,” she lets out a short breath and looks at you. “I’m not used to having my every move monitored so closely. I’ve never had to behaviour particularly well at these things. It’s weird and uncomfortable and it’s hard for me to deal with but you’ve helped me a hell of a lot with everything.”

Your glare softens at the vulnerability that Carol has on show for you. She’s always struggled to express her feelings. She can’t find the right words and says things the wrong way half the time and you feel stupid that you hadn’t just asked Carol directly about what you’d overheard, given her track record with miscommunication.

You’d been too in your thoughts about your feelings for Carol and her possible feelings for you that you’d read things so wrong. You made an assumption and made things so much worse. You cringe at this situation you’ve somehow managed to cause. You’re just glad it hadn’t been a lot worse and that Carol was so forgiving of your occasionally petty behaviour.

“You know better than anyone that I don’t really respond well with being told what to do.”

You chuckle lightly at her and her face brightens at the sound.

“So you’re saying that you do have fun with me, then?” Carol laughs, thankful to not have your glare aimed her way anymore.

“You already know I do. In fact, I really liked the parts of the party that we spent together tonight. You know, despite you looking like you’d rather be anywhere else but with me the entire time.”

You roll your eyes at her, not at all surprised that her smart ass comments were already making an appearance again.

“That’s not true,” you laugh and then grow serious again. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with you.”

Carol blinks at you and you watch her reaction with bated breath. “Do you mean that?” She asks softly and you smile at her and nod timidly.

“It could ruin everything we have but I don’t think I can keep hiding the fact that I want to be near you all the time anymore.”

“Well I can’t really blame you for that,” Carol says, a hint of a smirk on her face and you let out a laugh and smile widely at her when she almost casually places her arms around your waist.

“Shut up, Danvers,” you mutter.

“Make me,” she promptly replies and you only wait a quick beat before you’re pressing forward and capturing her lips with yours.

If you thought your last kiss was amazing, then this kiss was something completely new all together. The fact that you’re kissing Carol because you both want to, and not because of some fake narrative, has you smiling into the kiss, knocking your teeth with Carol’s.

You pull back, both laughing, before her arms tighten around your waist and she leans in to meet your lips again. She’s tentative with her movements at first; you both are really, but like last time, you both grow more confident and she ends the kiss with a nip to your bottom lip.

“You know, I hated seeing you with that other girl,” Carol admits.

“Yeah? Well, imagine how I felt having to watch you leave with all those women at literally every party Tony throws.”

Carol bites her lip, regret on her face. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you place your arms around Carol’s neck. “We’re here now. Let’s just leave the past in the past, okay?” You peck her lips reassuringly.

“Okay,” Carol whispers against your lips, stealing one more quick kiss. “Should we go back in?”

You sigh and drop your head to Carol’s shoulder for a second. “I suppose we probably should.”

“Come on. They want to see a happy couple. Let’s show them a happy couple,” Carol says and you lift your head and smile shyly at her, your mind still racing to catch up with these unexpected turn of events.

“Sounds good to me.”

You run your hands down Carol’s shoulders, down her arms until you reach her hands and you take them in your own. Carol lifts one of your hands to her lips and presses a kiss to it, earning a blush from you and she’s unable to fight the cheesy grin that makes its way onto her face.

She walks you to the door and holds it open for you. “After you, my lady,” she says and you laugh.

“Are you going to be this cheesy and chivalrous forever now?” You ask.

“Depends. Do you want me to be?”

“I just want you to be you,” you reply as Carol follows you through the door and takes your hand again.

“And what about you? Are you going to be cheesy forever now, too?” She teases and you chuckle in response before Nat calls you over from the group she’s standing in and you’re removed from the moment you and Carol are sharing together.

Not a problem, you think. You’ve got plenty of opportunities to share even more of these moments with Carol now.

——————————

This time, when you wake up in Carol’s arms, you don’t flinch away. Instead, you wear a sleepy grin on your face and press a soft kiss to her jawline, watching her stir for a moment before she settles again, a soft smile adorning her face.

You happily snuggle closer to her, pressing your face into the crook of her neck and drifting back to sleep without a single worry on your mind for the first time in weeks.

***** Series Taglist: @lovelylittlelionx @desaulniersbriannes @outofcontextavengers @traveler-at-heart @saucy-sapphic @mysticpansy (tag didn’t work)

[huihuiheart]

New Home - Yoon Jeonghan Fluff

Just a little birthday gift for Shay @cheonsajeonghan1004 it’s not too much, so hopefully among your celebrations and college work today you’ll have time to indulge in this.(Let’s be real you make time for Jeonghan.)Also yes there are some points that you’ll get and yes they are pointed at how you treat yourself even though you shouldn’t, but maybe you’ll listen in this format for a change? Anyways it’s been like 9 years since we met, so you’re basically stuck with me at this point. I’ll be nice this year though and not make it a two part where you have to pick between Taemin and Jeonghan again. I was also nice enough not to use his Halloween or red hair pics against you again! Love you little sis! Enjoy your day!!!!

Word Count: 2,255 

So yes everyone it is a little short. If you read my message to my friend you’ll know why. It is intentional, it’s so it’s hopefully short enough to be read and enjoyed despite her busy schedule!

Jeonghan and you had been dating for a few years now. Having met one summer and thinking that would be all it was a short summer fling. Things going fast and perfect and then ending all of a sudden in a flurry of empty promises, fleeting kisses, and goodbyes before moving on with your lives away from each other. Only in your case the promises had proved to be anything but empty and one sided, you two proving to withstand the test of time and the toll it took on your long-distance relationship. 

Yet, you both were going strong as you had been that short sweet summer long ago. Only getting to catch up during short breaks and vacations. Circumstances could change very soon though as you had applied to go to a college near where he lived. Which if you got accepted meant you could see each other a lot more often. Your friend had applied too, agreeing to help you settle in someplace entirely new without having to rely solely on Jeonghan for familiarity, something she knew you'd refuse to do anyways considering you were far too mindful of his also busy schedule not wanting to burden him. Which is why it surprised you that he called the day that you got an email back from the college that you had applied to. 

"So were you just not going to tell me that you got a response? I've been waiting to know what is happening." Jeonghan's voice flows into your ear and it's much more excited than you are in this moment feeling like nerves are eating you from the inside out at the prospect of not getting accepted. 

"How did you find out I got a response?" You inquired gnawing lightly on your bottom lip as you stated at the unopened email. 

"How do you think? Y/F/N knew you weren't going to tell me even though I told you I wanted to know when you got a response." Jeonghan gives you the same answer as any other time he found out about something you weren't going to burden him with. Your best friend knowing how much he helped you through things and spilling anything she knew you'd refuse to tell him out of love.

"You have practice I didn't want to disturb you or anything." You whined softly trying to seem like the good guy in this scenario though you knew Jeonghan would win in the end. He always did.

 "Yeah and you also always say I need to take more breaks and rest. So give me an excuse to. Now I'm going to hang up and get some water. But be ready cause I'm going to face time you in like five minutes and then we'll open it alright?" Jeonghan is asking, but you know he'll refuse to take anything other than agreement as an acceptable answer. 

You were both stubborn, yet Jeonghan knew how to soften you up enough to get what he wanted 90% of the time. True to his word roughly five minutes later you get an incoming call from him on facetime. 

You answered with a soft sigh and pout, "Hannie when I said I wanted you to take breaks and relax this isn't what I meant and you know it."

 "Okay fine, but how can I relax when I'm wondering what's going on with my love?" Jeonghan counters quickly causing you to shake your head a little bit, but give in anyways.

"Now open it up and tell me what they said. We'll figure it out either way." Jeonghan assures as your cursor hovers over the daunting email. Biting your lip you click on it, eyes skimming the page before they widen suddenly.

 "I got in!!!! Hannie I got in!! I'm going to be near you as soon as school starts." You practically launch out of your seat at screaming the news as Jeonghan's ecstatic laugh comes from your phone. 

"See I told you there was nothing to worry about." Jeonghan rolls his eyes playfully. Though his words only seem to set more worries in.

 "Wait but what if Y/F/N didn't get in? We're supposed to be moving together. And like what if we can't find a place. Hannie there's so much to do." You whimper cowering back into your seat again.

“Easy baby, just breathe. How about you line up some options or something and see what happened with Y/F/N. I’ll get you guys a place to stay at a hotel so you can look at the options before deciding.” Jeonghan offers a practical solution in light of your panicking, which was another pretty regular thing between the two of you. 

“Okay, okay, you need to actually rest and I’ll call her right now to see if she heard anything yet.” You easily agree with a soft nod, “I love you and I’m really excited to be close to you, even if my nerves make it seem like otherwise is true.”

“Love you too babygirl, now go call Y/F/N. I wanna know if my girlfriend and little sister both got in.” Jeonghan giggles one last time over the phone before you’re both hanging up to go about your very different daily lives.You’d always felt he’d done far far too much and that you did barely anything, wrongfully beating yourself up for things that were out of your control and that weren’t yours to take on. No one ever felt that was the case though, all agreeing that you did plenty. They were ecstatic that you were able to do something that you wanted to though and that it was building you up and encouraging you. 

“So did you get in too? Please tell me I’m not going alone.” You whined over the phone to your friend, your lip being abused between your teeth.

“I mean you weren’t going to be alone either way since you have Jeonghan.” Your friend chuckles over the phone dragging out her answer just to mess with you a little bit, “But I kinda got in.”

“What do you mean you kinda got in?” You counter ready to lose your mind and go off on your friend a bit for messing with you.

“I was accepted into one of their online programs. So I can do that from anywhere, if I’m close by though I can use the campus perks.” Your friend explains laughing lightly as she knows she barely dodged your attack.

“So does that mean you’re going to come with me then?” A hopeful quirk in your tone as you continue to interrogate your friend. 

“Boo my bags were packed two weeks ago, of course I’m coming. I knew they wouldn’t say no to us. Who would?” Your friend isn’t known to be a confident person, but she had her moments and she used them to oftentimes make you feel more comfortable.

“Honestly, I would have said no to us.” You can practically see her rolling her eyes at your playful tone.

“Whatever, I’m on my way over to help you pack right now.” 

You two had managed to get a flight booked for two weeks out, which seemed a reasonable amount of time to get things packed up and ready to move. Jeonghan insisting that you both make it easier on yourselves and ship some of your things to his place instead of trying to take EVERYTHING with you on the flight. Not that you both were bringing a ton of things, both ready for a fresh start. That being said you both had sent some things to Jeonghan to make travelling easier. Your boyfriend sending you a playlist made specifically for your time spent travelling. Something you’d likely have to reprimand him for spending so much time on once you did learn how long it took him to make. Of course, that didn’t stop a stupid smile from filling your entire face as you listened to the whole thing. 

When you landed you followed your friend’s lead through the airport, not the most experienced traveler personally and her always seeming to know exactly where to go. Going down an escalator to get to baggage claim she snickered under her breath.

“What’s so funny all of a sudden?” You question brows furrowed as you watch your friend.

“Someone just seems a little eager is all.” She responds nodding her head to below you with a smile. Following her gaze you see Jeonghan with a silly grin that could match yours his eyes lighting up as he finally sees you.

Your friend is a few steps below you, getting off first and quickly giving Jeonghan a passing hug before moving to see which area of baggage claim is for your flight and also just giving you and Jeonghan room. Which was probably a great idea considering Jeonghan practically lunged at you once you stepped off, pulling you into a tight hug and spinning you around a little.

“You’re finally here!” Jeonghan practically squeals, “Come on I’ll help you both get your things and take you to the hotel and then we’ll get some food, you two are probably hungry after travelling.” 

“Yay for third wheeling!” Your friend sarcastically cheers earning her a playful shove from you. 

“We aren’t that bad and you know it.” You laugh shaking your head at her.

“Besides you shouldn’t have helped set us up that summer if you weren’t ready to put up with us.” Jeonghan adds and your friend fakes offense at being tag teamed by you both. “So do you guys have anything planned for tomorrow?”

“Well I think we were planning on checking out the dorms and two apartments as options for us. But I think we were wrapping up about 2ish, we were gonna grab some lunch between places most likely.” You tell Jeonghan who nods leaving your side only for a second to help your friend with the suitcase that was trying to get away from her on the conveyor belt. 

“Sounds good any options if those don’t work out?” Jeonghan asks putting the suitcase down besides your friend to grab one he recognized as yours.

“Not really it was hard to find stuff in our budget in a place with so many other students.” Your friend admits with a soft sigh, “But hey we’re here now we’ll figure it out.” 

Jeonghan hums his expression one he makes when he gets lost in thought, but you’ll question it later you think to yourself as he gets you two to your hotel, where your friend she’d rather clean up and rest to let you two catch up than be stuck third wheeling, as much as she loved you two. Jeonghan being a bit protective of her like a little sister not buying it so easily worried she wouldn’t eat, but he decides to compromise ordering some food to the room to make sure she does eat before you two go out for your own food.

“Now that it’s just us do you want to tell me what’s on your mind?” Your voice is soft not pushy, but opening the door for him if he’d like to share.

“Hm it was that obvious huh?” Jeonghan chuckles, but his small smile tells you that you shouldn’t be too worried about whatever was on his mind.

“Well to me it was at least.” You nod resting your chin in your palm as you return his smile.

“I was just thinking that I know you two. You wouldn’t do well at the dorms...either of you with so many new people. And you two both like space in places to work on art and such, so it probably won’t be easy to find an apartment you both think works for you.” Jeonghan explains and you nod again humming in understanding.

“We know, we’re ready to make some sacrifices.” You tell him honestly.

“I know you both are, but like....what if you didn’t have to?” Jeonghan starts to bite his lip now, exhibiting some of his nervous habits which confuses you a tad.

“Did you have something in mind Hannie?” You inquire with furrowed brows as Jeonghan nods.

“I remembered something that would probably work for Y/F/N....for you. What if....I mean I’d like for you to.....I want you to move in with me.” Jeonghan finally stutters out his cheeks flaring up with a pink tint. “Unless you don’t want to of course, but like it’s spacious and we’ll be able to see each other more then. Plus, my place is pet friendly so we could get a puppy like you wanted.” 

You giggle and lean over to give him a small kiss to stop his rambling, “I’d love to move in with you Hannie! Besides you already insisted I send like half my stuff there anyways.”

Your teasing made him blush a little more, but he laughed along with you. Both of you laughing and enjoying dinner together, catching up and making little plans for moving and what to do afterwards.

“Just one more question though...what did you think of for Y/F/N?”You curiously ask raising a brow, which makes Jeonghan chuckle and smirk a little.

“Oh~ About that. Jun’s been looking for a roommate and I’m pretty sure I can get her on board with pictures of the apartment without sharing that little detail. After all we do kinda owe her for all that teasing she did us over that summer.” Jeonghan “innocently” reasons and you laugh mirroring his smirk.

“That sounds like trouble....I love it!”

[popculturebuffet]

Jake Reviews Stuff: Amphibia: Marcy at the Gates

Marcy arrives! The Plantars make it to Newtopia but first have to deal with a slight ant problem and a new addition to the family, as we finally meet the adorkable Marcy. Legs in two months under the cut. 

So as you could probably tell by the tone the last few weeks, doing this has weighed on me a bit. While I do love talking about this show week after week, as well as having a recurring series here to bring in readers, the split quality of the Season thus far has been a challenge. Now when I say split I don’t mean like star vs season 3 where it was either really damn good and some of the show’s best writing or “oh god what have they done to marco’s character this time”, it’s more either really good standout episodes ore more forgetable average ones. See a good episode I can gush about, dive into big charcter stuff, motviations, that sort of thing. I defintley will with owl house at some point and have with other shows. A bad episode can be taken apart and taken to the cleaners, which I haven’t done much of but probably should and if you want any taken to task yourself, I do comissions. But self promotion aside, the point is a meh episode just dosen’t leave me with a lot tot alk about and hte recaps became really dry as a result as I just couldn’t find a lot of jokes, and having a busy few weeks on top of that didn’t really help, nor did the antipciation for this week and the intersting setting of newtopia. 

Thankfully a combination of a really good few days, a better sleep schedule, and a really good episode this week, and a pile of scary go round collections for a dollar have reinvgorated me, so hopefully I can get back to doing what I love: Overanalizing children’s cartoons. So with that we can dive right into the episode. The keithdavidpocalypse is upon us! Pitter Patter! We open with Spring and Anne in the cart. Their close to newtopia, but Anne is worried they never found Marcy, while Sprig isn’t because her last friend turned out to be “Evil”... which Anne harshly rebuffs. And both sides are understandable: To Anne, Sasha was her friend.. a manipualtive and bossy friend sure but one who genuinely cared for her, she just may not know how to deal with people. To Sprig, Sasha is some asshole who abused his friend, tried to murder his Pop Pop, and works for a guy who tried to murder his whole town. It’s really understandable he woudln’t have the same warm fuzzy feelings Anne has.. insert your own Sashanne joke here.  We also get our first actual look at Marcy who to my suprise, rather than be another form of manipulative.. is simply an awkward nerd, constnatly playing video games, reading books , cataloging shit, and trying to get her friends to play d and d. So me if I knew what d and d was in high school. 

Anyways, the family finally DOES make it to Newtopia, impressive as you’d expect when the guard won’t let them see the wizard no way no how. Antique references aside, the guard at the gate actually has good reason for not letting them in as they have a tiny barbari-ant problem. A species Hop Pop is, in a nice touch, unfamiliar with due to the Valley not having them. We quickly see them in action as one approaches the plantars, basically a giant ant with ant-lers. Yes I used a pun there sue me. Anyway, our heroes ward off the ant they do find with some really cool team manuvering, and Polly showing she has spiked teeth. It’s a cool sequence. However they quickly find themselves outgunned, outplanned, outnumbered and outmanned. They gotta make an all out stand. Their gonna need a right hand man. Also I finally saw the film version of hamilton, as you can tell. Utterly magic. 

Said Right Hand Man, er woman, er tween comes in the nick of time as a cloaked Marcy sprays some black goo and sets it ablaze, scaring the ants off, snatching a stalemate from the jaws of defeat,  then rappeling down on a rope shot from a crossbow, also making polly want one because of course. She then.. Faceplants. Still a solid 8/10 entrance Marcy.  Marcy is played by Haley Tju who you may remember from such shows as The Loud House. And that’s all I know her from but given Stella’s one of my faviorites and Haley’s performance is part of that, so it’s unsuprising she’s great here. Also fun fact I learned by looking at her trope page: She actually played a younger version of London, brenda song’s character, on the Suite Life I Pray for Death but Death Won’t Come.. or On Deck for those who’ve never watched it. But I like the fact two londons are now on the same show together.. and an actually good noe at that! Horay. But yeah Haley is a great VA and what little i’ve seen her in and a welcome addition.  Marcy and Anne happily reunite once htey both realize who the other is, and hug and etc, before Marcy decends on the plantars, talking on and on and on about geeky stuff and how she likes the found family trope. ... I may really relate to this  mediums sized child, as I too am a huge nerd with no filter and was probably a lot like her at that age. It’s also clear she very transparently sees this as a combinaton of a video game and a d and d session, but said skills have actually benifited her as rping a rogue allowed her to easily bluff her way into the kingdom’s good graces and now she’s a sworn agent of the king as we’ll find out.  She quickly wins over the Plantars, measuring hop pop’s head, gushing over him being a farmer (which he almost instantly adopts her over and asks to point blank later), and then noticing Polly’s legs are about to come in and giving her the note seen in the review image, my faviorite gag. Sprig however is more out and out hostile and has his reasons we’ll get to in a second.  Marcy escorts her new family and sorta girlfriend to the makeshift war room set up by three scholoary newts who quickly resolve their planning disagreements by beating the piss out of each other. Just like real politics.. and that’s not a cheeky jab between the actual caning in the sentate that happened once and the various duels in the revolutionary and early america eras.. yeah the only reason the preisdent hasn’t been shot for challening one of hte many people he hates for a duel without realizing he really can’t see through that squint too good is that it’s now illegal and not the kind of illegal he can hide like usual.  Anyways after the Newts scoff at our heroes, but Marcy vouches for them and reveals that the ants are getting closer because i’ts gotten warmer....

Marcy has a plan though: Spread scentshrroms around that will release a pheremone which will drive them off, having throughly studied Amphibia’s various flora and fauna and thus knowing how to deal with them. I’ts something I like about the character and how she adds to the other huamns group dynamics. Alll three deal with issues diffrent ways; Anne has plans, but rarely thinks them through, Sasha does think hers through and is a master manipulator while Marcy is a ballance between the two: She does throughly think things out and have well thought out clever plans.. she just also tens to rush into things or go forward with a nose in a book or without a thought to how dangerous soemthing is. She’s prepared, she’s just not very aware of her surrondings, which is amood. 

But Anne is nervous about her coming along as is sprig which sets up both’s conflicts with her for the episode: Anne wants to protect Marcy, since she just got her back and her only other remaning friend now clearly wants to stab her and she has a better option now love interest wise. However Marcy convinces Anne, 2nd capefire this episode nonwithstanding, she can handle herself. She also calsl her annabannna which is fucking adorable.  The other conflict is that Sprig dosen’t trust her.. he has no rational reason not to give she’s a sweetie, but is a bit gunshy about another human girl working for a dictator popping up in their life. And while he’s probably wrong, while I think Marcy isn’t working for the best people probably she’s likely too oblivious to genuinely relaize she’s doing crimes if they have her doing them or was given a fake justification. I could be wrong, and will gladly eat crow. Metphorically i’m not going to bake a real crow. I don’t have the right seasoning. And i’d also be cursed but eh I doubt I can get poorer. But it’s understandable he has reservations, especially since while he dosen’t say it he’s likely worried Anne will get hurt again. He’s a good boy, he’s just being paranoid over probably nothing.  Anyways onoto the plan: The plantars and new girl marcy are gonna:

Okay phermone them whatever, the point is they head into the Ant Hole, witht he conflicts continuing as the plantars progress; Sprig is naturally suspcious and Anne is worried about her precious gurl. The group fight some more ants, and Marcy seemingly wonders off.. only to instead BLOW THEM A FUCKING TUNNEL with some chemicals from some flowers she found, then instant sprout a plant cage.. and accidently trap polly. NOOOOO.> Thankfully she frees her and tosses some plants on the ants, which is fun to say.  We then get to our climax. OUr group find the queen who ihs horrifying.. a good mom as sprig points out but horrfing. Nice design though i’m just.. not an insect guy and sometimes this show leaves me in abject terror. this is one of those times. Our heroes plant the mushrooms, phrasing I know but this review is late as is and i’ve already used up my archer refrence for the day.  Anne dives to Save a seemingly oblovious Marcy.. whose mad at Anne over it.. while Anne is udnerstandable Marcy wants her , NEEDS her to understand...

No not that erik. That, much like Anne herself, Marcy’s grown and changed over these past three months. She can handle herself now and she needs her ot see that. Also sprig gets attacked by an ant baby, which not only wakes up the queen, who can hear but can’t see but now knows something’s arry, but causes said queen to unleash a hoarde of ants.  Marcy however naturally has a plan: She’ll dive into the queen’s belly and get sprig, the plantars will hold them off and Anne finally trusts her lady enough to fiht off. I don’t have a lot to say I just really like this character arc and Marcy’s character: She’s a bit oblivious, ab it obessed with nerdy things which again relate.. but when push comes to shove she’s also clever, a master planner and has clearly studied her ass off about this world and knows it well. She’s throughly likeable.  And that likeablity finally gets through to sprig when she gets him out and swings him. Trust earned, anne’s faith in her gained and the mushrooms go off and send the ants running. Misson Complete.  With the mission complete our heroes finally enter Newtopia and meet the mysterious Lady Olivia, whose been sending Marcy on her missions, and is likely her spymaster. Not that i think Marcy realizes that but Marcy’s love of midevil fantasy means she blends in well with thier courty apperance and introduces anne and co to her.. Olvia isn’t impressed but is cordial about it at least.. even with Sprig breaking shit. And yeah , Amphibia has a king over all of it, as Hop Pop puts it “We aren’t savages”. It does make sense it woudln’t come up every day though, it’s not as if the king really cares about the valley... but more on speculation about him in a minute. Hop Pop wisely gives the two “Friends’ some alone time, and the two talk things over: Anne explains how she found sasha.. and it didn’t go great, and Marcy vows that the two of them can go their own way now. Maybe iwth tounge. we dunno. The two then look over anne’s phone while anne recounts her anne-tics.. and we get to the king. And it’s KEITH DAVID BITCHES AS WAS PROHPISED A FEW WEEKS AGO. And he has myserious plans and wood carven figures of both our heroines and possible gaybies. “The game can finally begin. “

Final Thoughts: This was a really damn good episode. Whiel I summarized more than usual , both conflicts were great, all the plantars got to shine, there were gags a plenty, an intriguing new member of the main cast and a mysterious new antagonist. I mean given it was revealed the Newts were behind Toad tower a few episodes back, I figured Andidas wouldn’t be a good guy, even if he’s played by upstanding gentleman and god among men keith david, , but it’s a question of what his end goal is, how the girls got here, and what his plan ofr them is that i’m curious to see play out as the season goes on, as well as see if Marcy is a pawn or not. Newtopia also looks intresting and i’ts nice to have a new solid setting to build on now we’re here, as well as new mysteries to unlock> Ther’es also the honest possibliity marcy, who claims to have found bubkuss, might simply want to stay in a world where she gets to live out her dreams and isn’t picked on or bullied. Again we’ll see all speculation but this episode was damn good. For now this is the clear highlight of the season and i’tll be intresting to see where it goes from here. Until next time courage. 

[dammit-stark]

i am OBSESSED with royalty aus

fun fact: red, white & royal blue by Casey mcquiston is actually my favorite book (tied with Emma by Jane Austen, obviously) but anyway this was heavily inspired by the plot of that book so I hope you like it! - p.s this turned out to be like 1.8k words soooooo here it exists now okay

DROP YOUR FAV AU IN MY ASK BOX (OR JUST ANY IDEA IDC) AND ILL WRITE IT FOR YOU :)

...

“We’re supposed to hate each other,” Tony insists, head hanging off the side of his bed, his feet cushioned in the onslaught of pillows by the head board. Nat sits criss-cross applesauce in his peripheral vision, flipping through a magazine, “It’s not my fault he’s a pompous ass and we’re star-crossed nemeses.”

Nat stops flipping to look at him under an arched eyebrow, “Star-crossed, Tony? Really?”

“Oh, shush, you know what I am. We’re total opposites. My dad got elected by the people into the greatest country in the world, and he was born into the crappy inbred monarchy whose ass we beat centuries ago.”

Nat doesn’t look up from her magazine this time, “Didn’t your dad fund his campaign with the millions of dollars he got from his inheritance?”

Tony pauses. In the silence, he can hear the blood rushing to his head. He chooses to ignore Nat’s logic, “I really don’t think that’s relevant here.”

Nat gets to the last page and the flimsy pages clap noisily together. She points an accusatory finger at him, “I don’t care if you think he’s the Loch Ness monster, it’s a royal wedding and you’re the first son of the United States. You’re gonna have to suck it up and be on your best behavior.”

“Oh, no, Nat,” Tony coos sardonically, still hanging upside down, “Are you afraid I’m gonna embarrass you?”

With a complete straight face, she throws her magazine at him, and stands so she’s towering above him. He has to stretch his neck to look at her.

“Yes, she says. I absolutely am. Now, what do you want on your pizza? I’m hungry.”

As it turns out, Tony isn’t humanly capable of staying on his best behavior at the royal wedding. He definitely embarrasses Nat, and maybe, sorta, totally causes an international incident in the process.

“It’s not my fault,” He tells Nat on the jet back to the States, still hanging somewhere in the precarious limbo between disastrously drunk and world-endings hungover, “He started it.”

Nat just glares at him, “I was standing right there, Tony. I watched you push him first.”

“I-“ There’s not much point in arguing, “Yeah. Dad’s gonna be pissed, isn’t he?”

Nat sighs, a long, never-ending sigh that makes her sound decades older than she actually is. Tony has that effect on people.

“Don’t worry about your dad, Tony,” She tells him. This time, she’s flipping through a classified file folder instead of a dime-a-dozen tabloid edition, “We’re gonna fix your mess, as per usual.”

Tony can feel the hangover rearing it’s head over the drunkenness, and he sinks into his chair, eyes closing, “You’re the best, Nat. Thanks.”

Nat rolls her eyes as Tony falls asleep, “Yeah,” She murmurs under her breath to herself, “Damn right I am. Dumbass.”

It turns out that Nat’s solution to Tony’s antagonistic little international incident is to make it seem like the whole The-First-Son-Just-Pushed-A-Beloved-Prince-Into-His-Brother’s-Wedding-Cake thing seem more like a frat boy-esque ribbing gone bad. Tony hates the plan, and he tells Nat as such.

“This is a horrible plan. It’s not gonna work, and it means I have to spend an entire weekend with Prince Pissy Pants.”

They’re on the private plane again, flying back to England to fix Tony’s mess.

Nat rolls her eyes, and punches him in the shoulder, “Get over yourself, Stark. If you don’t want to hang out with your so-called nemesis, then stop getting drunk and pushing people into wedding cakes. This is your own fault. We’re fixing your problem for you. Get over it.”

Tony rolls his eyes, but otherwise consents, “Whatever.”

Nat passes him a file folder.

“What’s this?”

“The Prince’s interests. Study it. Learn it like it’s the back of your hand, and then study it even more. If you get caught in a lie, Stark, you’re beyond dead.”

He gets two lines in before he tears narrowed eyes away from the paper to suspiciously meet Nat’s expression, “Did he get one of these about me?”

“Yep.”

“What was in it?”

“Your interests, Stark.”

Tony does not envy whoever got assigned that task. He wonders how accurate it’ll be. He obediently reads through the Prince’s interests among an uncharacteristic silence. Nat almost thinks he’s grown up until he breaks said silence with a snort.

“His favorite book is Great Expectations? Nerd.”

When they land, Tony remembers why he pushed the prince in the first place. Yeah, the alcohol did half the work for him, but- something about the Prince’s stupidly perfect, absurdly handsome face just makes Tony want to start shoving people into cakes. Surely other people have the same urge.

“Mr Stark,” The Prince says as greeting. He doesn’t even offer a hand for Tony to shake, just smiles with his hands folded together, “It’s a shame these are the circumstances that you-“

“Yeah, yeah, you’re very polite, I get it. Prince Steve here to save the day with his antiquated, impeccable manners. Yippee-kiy-yai.”

Tony counts it as a win that he sees a flicker in that smile, but it crests back to sparkly perfection with a blink of the eye. There are cameras. Tony sees Nat out of the corner of his eye, glaring beside a distinct row of security, somehow looking the most intimidating of all of them. He smiles back, pasted and ridiculous and spiteful, his whole body tensed and relaxed at the same time.

He smiles winningly for the cameras.

Later, at the hospital, Tony wonders how Mr Prince Perfect can put on such a facade, even with sick kids. Because that’s obviously what this is. He watches from across the room as Prince Steven kneels beside a sick kid’s bedside, smiling kindly, and talking to the little girl with her baby yoda doll tucked into the crook of her arm.

It’s not until Tony has completely committed to his eavesdropping that he realizes there aren’t any cameras around to capture Steve’s amiability. That’s the first moment Tony thinks oh, maybe this guy isn’t as fake as I thought he was.

“You totally wouldn’t be Han Solo,” Tony interrupts because he’s totally an asshole and he knows it (that’s the different between Tony and Prince Stick-Up-Butt, he at least owns his assholery), “You’re a textbook Luke Skywalker if I ever met one, Prince.”

Steve’s responding grin is surprisingly left-leaning, and the kid in the hospital bed is giggling.

“Are you gonna try to tell me that you’re a Han Solo then?”

“Actually, I-“

“Because you’re not,” Steve’s totally serious except a slight twinkle in his eye, one forefinger tapping against his own knee as the little girl sits enraptured by the ridiculous conversation occurring just above her, “You’re Anakin through and through. Not in a bad way, just-“

Tony doesn’t mean to come off as truly surprised as he really does, but the way he shuts his mouth immediately gives him away, “No,” He says, “You’re right.”

Steve’s lips punch off at the corners in an amused, vaguely self-satisfied way that makes Tony want to soberly push him into another cake so expensive you need to take out a mortgage to eat a slice. Before Tony can needle him back, the prince is smiling back at the kid, a gentle hand on her arm. Huh.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Wendy. Thanks for talking about Star Wars with us.”

And like the smug bastard he is, Steve gracefully stands from her bedside and leaves the room. Oh no he won’t. Tony follows, angrily.

That’s how they end up in a near-empty hospital hallway together. And subsequently, it’s also how they’re pushed into the closest nearby maintenance closet by the nearest secret service operative, tripping over themselves and invisible equipment alike as they’re safely hidden away. It’s also how they end up on the floor, joints every which way, elbows menacing and in all the wrong places as they cajole violently among the brooms and buckets.

“Your elbow-“ Tony grunts, “Is in my side, Steve.”

“Yes, well, my elbow wouldn’t be in your side if your elbow wasn't in my shoulder.”

“Get your shoulder out of my elbow!”

“Why do you hate me?” Steve cuts him off, a hiss in his voice. Ooh, Mr Perfect Prince can actually get angry. Exciting.

Tony takes a deep breath. Or- as deep of a breath as he can take without drawing attention to their tight little maintenance closet/hideout.

“You’re not real. You’re fake. Everything you do has been trained into you, it’s annoying.”

“I feel pretty real to me, Stark.”

“You just- it’s a persona. You’re a persona. And the whole world blindly loves you for it.”

In the dark, Tony chews on his bottom lip- a chronic bad habit of his.

When Steve responds, his voice is low, even lower than it necessarily needs to be to keep attention away from their location. He can’t tell in the dark, but Tony thinks his head might be bowed. He can practically hear the thoughts in the prince’s head. But then again, they’re physically close enough, practically spooning ridiculously on the ground, he might as well tap directly into Steve’s mind they’re so close together.

“Do you think I want to be a persona, Tony? Do you think I did this to myself? I’m still me, I’m just- guarded. It’s not up to me. There’s a lot more to the world than my place in it.”

Tony’s quiet. It’s a much more real answer than he’d expected. He’d half expected the prince to spit on him or something, dig his elbow extra far into Tony’s side or something. Instead he gets this vulnerable little morsels of honesty, and Tony has nothing to say.

“I-“

Tony’s cut off by blinding light. Nat whips the door open.

“Ew, what are you guys doing on the ground? Why are you spooning?”

Steve hurried to his feet, cheeks visibly red, “The threat?” He demands, and Tony’s surprised Nat doesn’t demand a full sentence like she usually does, the cocky bastard. She nods succinctly.

“A false alarm. However, we’ve deemed it safest to move onto the next event.”

“Great, thanks,” The Prince says, and moves off down the hall, disappearing behind twin EXIT doors.

Tony’s still on the ground when Nat swivels back to look at him, a smug smile on her face.

“You hate each other, huh? Is that what you’re calling it nowadays?”

Tony rolls his eyes, “Oh, shut up, asshole, and help me.”

But he hadn’t had to tell himself deflect, deflect, deflect, and he’s pretty sure something about being stuck in a children’s hospital maintenance closet changed his feelings on the guy. Something about it.

As Tony walks to his next event, he has to push to keep the prince out of his idle mind.

When he departs for the United States hours later, Tony leaves the prince with his phone numbers.

“To corroborate our stories or whatever,” He tells Prince Steven, though he’s sure Nat isn’t convinced, “So we don’t have to keep going between these losers.”

Prince Steven accepts the offering with a smile, and Tony gets on the plane, leaving Britain behind him one last time. 

[missbugaboo]

That Other Guy (6)

“Why does it matter so much to you? What’s so terrible about Adrien Agreste that you can’t stand him as your competition – even though it changes absolutely nothing for you? What in magic’s name makes him such a hateful rival?” Or, Chat Noir finally learns who Ladybug’s dream guy is, but somehow, he’s not pleased at all. For more reasons than one.

LadyNoir, Adrienette.

fanfiction.net / AO3

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Chapter 6: We Need to Talk

The photo shoot was a catastrophe, no pun intended.

Not objectively; after all, the morning was clear, with no more than a few clouds passing over their heads and the warm September sun that had rose no more than an hour afore. The lightning was spot-on, the temperature pleasant, while the team began and finished their work enthusiastic, despite the early hour and the tight schedule they undoubtedly needed to follow.

Adrien was surrounded by competent yet friendly people, in a scenery that could be called nothing but soothing, and following instructions that turned out to be the simplest he'd faced in a while.

And yet, it was a catastrophe.

It was a disaster.

He wished he could blame it on the absurdly small amount of sleep which, by the way, was exactly the excuse he'd used whenever someone asked him if he really was feeling as well as he claimed to. He knew they would notice the change in him as soon as they laid eyes on him - after all, it was there job to ensure that his looks were impeccable and thus were more than critical about what they saw; and so instead of pretending there was no problem at all, he clung to the one cause that seemed both probable and safe.

He was grateful to see it work, when quite frankly, he'd been more than dubious about his success.

After all, the dark bags under his eyes that required much more make-up than usually were one thing - the hollow, unseeing gaze was something else entirely.

They seemed to have bought it, however and went on with their plan without as much as a comment about his obvious lack of professionalism (though he sure was going to hear about it at home). They did his hair and put on his make-up, dressed him up like the doll he was and placed him wherever they thought he looked best.

Again, none of it was bad; it was routine, that's all.

Business as usual, for everyone but him.

"So, how much longer before we can go home now?" Plagg asked with a yawn, sticking his head out of Adrien's bag and gazing at the boy expectantly. "I'm hungry. And keeping a kwami hungry is a risky move, kid."

Adrien glared down at him with a frown.

"Get back inside before someone notices you," he muttered under his breath, hiding his lips behind a water bottle, while he prayed inwardly that everyone was too busy to notice him having yet another conversation with his accessories. "Also, there were at least two whole rolls of camembert in my bag, it should've kept you full for a day."

"Yeah, there were three actually. I ate all of it."

"All of it?"

"Look, it's not my fault I have a fast metabolism."

"You have an eating disorder, that's what you have. It's an addiction that I shouldn't encourage," Adrien was relentless. "What's more important, however, is that the amount packed is exactly what you usually need, so I don't understand how you could devour it so quickly. And I haven't even transformed today!"

"You did last night, though, didn't you? And given the emotional state you were in for most of that hellish patrol, you can be sure it wasn't exactly the time of my life, either. I don't remember you feeding me any cheese after we'd come home and since I can be considerate and tactful, I didn't treat myself with any while trying to talk to you. Oh, and I don't think I've had a chance to have a proper breakfast in the morning, with you storming out of the room like you did, only to wait for Nathalie for twenty minutes because - surprise, surprise! - we were there too early."

Adrien snorted discreetly.

"You could have very well had that meal after I'd gone to sleep," he answered viciously. "It's not my fault that you've decided to flee the moment I did, and for reasons you can't even explain to me."

"Pettiness doesn't suit you, kid," Plagg retorted calmly. "Also, I didn't flee. And surely not immediately after you'd gone to bed."

"That's not the point here."

"No. The point is that you're still mad and you're blaming everyone but yourself for it."

Adrien's glare grew even more steely. "Only yesterday you were talking about how I can't take all the blame and now you're giving me this?"

"Yes."

"You're contradicting yourself, Plagg."

"Not if I mean you should stop looking for the guilty party in general," was his companion's even answer. "Also, I think your make-up lady is coming."

He was gone before Adrien could utter a single syllable, hidden at the very bottom of the bag, safe from the curious eyes of said lady as well as the the young model's glares. Adrien sighed deeply and raised his hand to rub his face wearily - and then put it back down, remembering all the beauty products that were currently covering his face.

Smearing it all over his face right in front of the make-up director was hardly a good idea.

The shoot continued for a little more than an hour after that. When it finally finished, Adrien was sure he had never been this exhausted after so little work in his life, and that there was absolutely no exaggeration on his part in that regard; so when he was, at long last, told that it was all, he felt like he could quite literally kiss the photo shoot director in thanks for that news. That, or to crash on the ground and fall asleep that very second.

Considering that the director was about three times his age, the second option was far closer to his wish.

Still, as alluring as taking his nap right there and then was, Adrien stood firmly, determined not give the team any more reasons to worry - or worse, to call his father and ask him for the cause of his son's awful state.

So now he was back on the bench, pretending to be reading his history textbook, while he waited for the Gorilla to pick him up. He was aware of the glances and smirks (as well as the few awed sighs) he'd thus provoked, knowing full well that people expected him to fiddle with his phone rather than study, and especially in such a busy, noisy place. Not to mention, after the work he'd just done.

And yet, just this once, he wasn't in the least tempted to look at the device.

"You sure you don't need to check that?" Plagg asked in a dramatic whisper, as if he knew that he was supposed to be hiding but at the same time realised that his voice wouldn't have been heard in the mix of sounds around them. "Your phone's buzzed about ten times so far. Doesn't that mean it's something important?"

"No, it just means that Nino still hasn't learnt to write long messages and texted me a bunch of short ones instead," Adrien replied with an impatient sigh.

Gosh, just let him study.

"I know you're not reading this anyway, so you may as well drop the act and focus on me."

The glare Adrien gave him in response truly was a murderous one. "What have I told you about reading my thoughts?"

"You asked me not to do it, and I'm not. But I don't need to, either. It's written all across your face."

The boy let out a growl. One of his fellow models, who happened to be passing by on that exact moment winced, taken aback. She glanced down at him with an odd look on her countenance.

Adrien wanted to curl up and die.

"Sorry," he mumbled, fixing his eyes on the book in his hands, praying that the girl wouldn't linger around and just moved on with her undoubtedly more interesting life.

Luckily for him, she shrugged and did just that.

Adrien sighed again, and this time it was full of relief. Maybe it was a good thing that the fashion industry was were all kinds of eccentrics gathered.

At least no one paid attention to all the weird things he did.

He shifted his gaze to the textbook once more, determined to actually read the words printed on its pages, no matter how many more disruptions might come in a way. He was not going to look at his phone; he was not going to look around, searching for his bodyguard. And he sure as hell wasn't going to give Plagg the satisfaction of meeting his imploring stare again.

As if that changed anything.

Yet, he was to be unmoved. Despite the feeling of his kwami's gaze burning on his side as well as the noise said kwami was making (purposefully, no doubt), he didn't even stir, all the more intent on looking unfazed. He moved the book a little closer and pushed his bag under the bench with his foot without as much as peeking at it. He turned the page with the same fake-serene expression reflecting on his face.

He was fine, he was cool. There was no reason why he shouldn't be.

He was -

"I think Marinette is calling you, kid."

He was none of these things.

Several things happened at once then. The textbook Adrien was holding so firmly suddenly fell out of his grasp and landed next to his feet, only to be accidentally kicked away by him when he stood up rapidly and turned towards Plagg with the same violence characterising his moves. His eyes were wide with shock as he stared down at his bag; his hand shook when he reached out for it and took out the phone which, to his surprise, showed no sign of missed calls.

The few messages from Nino - ones he had already expected - were all he could see on the screen.

And yet, his heart was beating fast, his body stiff while he simultaneously felt trembling inside. With his gaze fixed on the phone and blood pumping in his ears, he nearly missed it when Plagg quietly cleared his throat.

Nearly.

Adrien looked at his companion and realised that what he'd been told was a lie, a ploy meant to provoke a reaction on his part. He frowned, annoyed and opened his mouth to scold the kwami for playing tricks on him in this way; yet, Plagg clearly wasn't going to let him beat him to it.

"I think we need to talk, kid," he said with a mixture of gravity and firmness. "And now."

Adrien couldn't help but swallow painfully.

He was screwed.

They didn't talk, however, and not due to Adrien's reluctance towards the subject. He was not going to give in to Plagg's suggestion of course (which, considering his deadly glare and infinite power of destruction, was more of a threat, really), not without putting some fight first, anyway; though he also realised that such a fight could not be of much use when his friend was so intent to have that conversation.

The very thought of having it made Adrien dizzy.

He was rescued by the sudden arrival of his bodyguard, who pulled up not a moment after Plagg had uttered the damning sentence. Aware as he was that this barely meant pushing the dreaded talk away for a while, Adrien couldn't help but sigh in relief, silently vowing to repay the Gorilla whenever he got the chance.

Now, however...

"Sweet block of cheese, I thought that ride would never end," Plagg said, once again making sure that his yawn would be heard just as much as the note of boredom that resonated in his voice. "To think that today of all days would be when we got caught in a traffic jam."

"It wasn't that bad," Adrien contradicted him, before glancing at his watch. "We're still earlier than I thought we'd be. Not as early as to make it to the current class... but enough to be left waiting for the next one to start. We've got about twenty minutes until that."

"Oh, now that's fantastic. You can finally tell me all the things I need to know without the risk of anyone overhearing."

Adrien set off towards the entrance with a grunt. "I told you I didn't want to talk about it."

"And I told you that I didn't care about your whims."

"What about my needs then? And weren't you supposed to be nice and tactful for once?"

"I'm always concerned about your needs, kid," Plagg retorted with renewed seriousness. "Which is precisely why we must talk; preferably before you walk inside and run into someone."

Before you run into Marinette, Adrien's mind readily supplied.

He wanted to bang his head against the door.

"Do we really have to?" he asked weakly, with his hand frozen on the doorknob and his forehead really coming close to resting against the wooden surface. "Will it really change anything?"

"It's not about changing anything, Adrien."

"What is it about, then? What's the point in going back to it, in reliving that horrendous time once again, if it's not going to make things better? Do you really just want to drag me through the mud so I remember how awfully I reacted last night?"

Plagg landed on his hand and shook his head with conviction.

"You know I don't. But there are things you should face before meeting up with anyone. Things you should think through before anyone asks you about them."

"All I've done since we quarrelled was think things through, Plagg," Adrien contradicted him. "Also, it's not exactly like I can talk about this entire situation with anyone without revealing my superhero alter ego, which we know isn't an option. If anything, I should come up with a good excuse for feeling unwell, but then again, if the make-up crew bought the one about lack of sleep, there's no reason to believe that Nino or Alya won't."

"And what about Marinette?" Plagg suggested with a meaningful look.

"Well, she will have to accept it, too," Adrien as much as spat, a new, sudden wave of anger overcoming him against his expectations or will. "Just because I've figured out her identity doesn't mean I'll share mine with her at the first given opportunity. Not to mention, I hardly feel like having her comfort me right now. Maybe it's unfair, maybe it's rude; but I just can't talk to her today."

"Yeah. Because you're disappointed it's turned out to be her."

Suddenly, all reluctance on Adrien's part was gone.

If that's how Plagg wanted to play it, then so be it.

He wasn't going to run anymore.

"Okay, you wanna talk? Fine," he agreed out of the blue. "I'll tell you everything you want to know and explain everything you can't grasp on your own. We'll find a place to hide until the next lesson starts and talk for as long as the time allows. In return, you'll promise me to stop nagging me about it later on. And I mean it: no sly questions, no meaningful looks and certainly no suggestions that I should go speak to Marinette about anything."

Plagg allowed himself to smile wearily.

"I can work with that," he consented eagerly. "So long as you don't hold back, either."

"I won't," was all Adrien cared to say, before finally pushing the door open and entering the hall.

Plagg followed right behind.

[squirrel-moose-winchester]

Recipe for a Winchester

He, sweetie! It’s me invading again, hope you don’t mind ;-; (btw, Ketch and Lisa, FRIGGING KNEW IT! can’t wait to read more ♥)

This was submitted by @i-t-s-a-n-d-y (sorry I can’t tag you).

Summary: Chuck is making a Winchester when one of his little ones come barging in and wanting to help. 

Warning: ALL THE FLUFF

Disclaimer: Gif found on google by me. 

Note: This is NOT my work. This was written and submitted by @i-t-s-a-n-d-y! I came up with the summary and warnings. This is just so adorable, I had to share it! Happy Reading!

Little hurried footsteps echoed in the hallways of Heaven. God didn’t even have to look up to know who they belonged to, he only knew someone with that kind of energy… Well, actually two, either Gabriel had eaten candies before dinner (again) or his baby wanted some attention… Or Gabriel had given her candies and now he had two (even more) hyperactive archangels running around.

The footsteps grew louder and then came to a sudden stop, replaced by a muffled thud.

“Ouchie!” he then turned around, smiling when he saw his little baby girl having difficulties to pass through the door because of her growing wings and her lack of control over them.

“I’ve told you countless times that you must slow down, little one”

“I can’t, daddy! Time is money, money is power, power is pizza, pizza is knowledge” she stated bossily “Anyway, can we play, daddy?”

“I’m busy now, [Y/N], but I promise we can play as soon as I’m done”

“What are you doing?” the youngest archangel approached her daddy, curiosity replacing her eagerness to play.

“I’m making vessels. I was just starting with Michael’s one”

“Can I help?! C’mon, daddy, I promise I’m getting better at drawing now!” [Y/N] jumped her way to her father’s chair, struggling a little to reach the desk. She took a pencil and started drawing a masterpiece, according to her, and a cute stick figure (or a, still cute, attempt of one) in her dad’s words.

“Although that is a wonderful draw, I’m afraid it needs more details. Tell you what, what if you describe it to me so I can make it?”

“Okie dokie” she nodded enthusiastically “He could be… redhead, no, no, brunette, no, blonde, but not so blonde, like blondnette!” she paced around the room lost in her thoughts “He has to be tall, so Michael can fit in, and he has to be super cool like my big brother, but-” [Y/N] looked around to make sure they were the only one’s in the room, then motioned with her chubby little hand for his daddy to bend and whispered in his eat “not so meanie as him”

“Mhm. Noted” God smiled “What about his lips?”

“Pink! Like my dress” she twirled around making her soft pink dress flow “And can we put stars in him? I love stars, they’re so pretty”

“The stars could hurt him, don’t you think?”

“Hmm… I don’t want him to be hurt” her pout was adorable, showing the genuine concern for the human that hasn’t even born yet.

“What if I put tiny dots instead?”

“But he wouldn’t be perfect anymore, would he?”

“Imperfections are what makes humans unique… Even angels have them, and in some way they make us beautiful” he took a loose feather from her wings and dipped the tip in ink, splattering little dots over his daughter nose and cheeks, making them suddenly turn a faint shade of pink. A shy nod was her only answer.

“Then he can have dots, but he has have a perfect smile!” she bargained.

“Done. We’re almost done.” God announced “Now, the most important thing: his eyes”

“Green” she answered without a second thought “‘Cause it’s my favorite color, but he must have gold in them!”

“Why gold?”

“‘Cause it’s the same color as his heart, and that way people will know it” the little girl nodded sure of herself “‘Sides it looks pretty with green. And they ought to look at me like you do, daddy!” [Y/N]’s demand was complemented by her finger pointing at her daddy.

“And how is that, honey?” God asked, genuinely interested in the details his little, and really smart, baby could see that usually went unnoticed by others.

“Like I’m the prettiest thing in the whole universe” her father’s heart melted and she smiled seeing that look of pure adoration for her in his eyes.

“Do you want to give him a gift, sweetheart?” she thought about it for a second.

“I could give him a plushie, but you can’t put it in his mommy or it’ll hurt her, right, daddy?”

“I wasn’t talking about a physical gift, darling” God laughed wholeheartedly “I was thinking about you sharing something with him” his finger pressed against her chest.

“My lung?”

“No, baby. A part of your soul”

“Wouldn’t it hurt me?”

“I would never do something to hurt you, my angel. But sharing a soul would bond you two forever, he would never feel lonely because he’ll carry a part of you with him, and you’d always be able to find him, one way or another. Or do you think you won’t be able to find him?”

“Of course I will be able to! He owes me half soul” her laughter echoed in the room, her father smiled and a bright light emerged from her chest.

“Sissy, we’re playing hide and seek, c’mon!” Lucifer screamed from the hallway making her run excitedly to her older brothers.

***

Chuck finished writing, and looked up to the elder Winchester approaching the desk of the morgue, where the coroner filled the victim’s report.

“Excuse me, miss” Dean cleared his throat to get the woman’s attention “I’m agent-” he flashed his fake badge but the words got caught up in his throat as soon as she took her nose out of her paper “Gorgeous” the lady laughed lightly and looked at his eyes, her sassy comeback dying as soon as she saw those golden pecks dusting his gorgeous green eyes.

“Your eyes…” she whispered “They have gold… Like the your heart, I bet”

“Have we- Have we met before?” Dean frowned scanning every part of her face trying to place the weird familiarity.

“I- I don’t think so, yet something about you… I feel like- like I’m…” she stopped mid-sentence, trying to find the right words to voice her thoughts.

“Whole?” he suggested tentatively, regretting right after in fear to look even more nuts that he actually was.

“Yeah, basically, I thought it sounded stupid and it might’ve freak you out, but I’m glad we’re on the same page” she laughed and Dean swore he felt his heart skip a beat, stop and then beat even faster in less than a second “I’m [Y/N], by the way” he took the hand that she was offering and shook it softly yet firmly. Knowing she won’t break that easily but treating her as the most beautiful being he’s ever seen.

“Dean, I’m Dean”.

“Just ask her for a drink already, Winchester” Chuck mocked from his place “After all you owe her half a soul” he murmured to himself.

My response:

WTF IS THIS?! OMG, it was so freaking CUTE!! Why was this submitted to me? This should be out there to share with the world! This was just so full of fluff. I will admit, my favorite part was her and Chuck creating Dean! She was so cute! And when Lucifer came in and called her to go play with them… my heart melted. That was a time when Lucifer wasn’t the bad guy. So precious! I love this so much! Thank you for sharing it with me. And now I will share it with everyone else!!

[fatbottombucky]

Well, It’s All An Adventure *Peter Parker x Reader*

Requested: since requests are open: could you possibly do a spider-man x male! reader that includes the spider-man kiss? (also I greatly appreciate the fact you write for male readers bc there’s so few out there and my gay ass heart is in love with peter parker 💖💖💖)

Pairing: Peter Parker x (M) Reader

Warnings: so much fluff

Word Count: 1676

A/N: I had so much writing this- mostly because I listened to the greatest showman soundtrack- this heavily inspired by Tightrope from that album because it gives me so many feels!!!  

I kinda want to do a small series based upon every song from The Greatest Showman soundtrack, let me know if that’s something I should consider. It’ll be Peter Parker x Gender neutral reader but, I don’t know, I think it could be really cool to do a series where each part is based on a song from the soundtrack; just an idea! - Rosalie

Your mind was racing with a million thoughts. Trying to find that pivotal moment that changed your whole life, your whole existence, your whole being but you couldn’t place it so simply. Maybe it was because it wasn’t one moment, it was a million different ones that led you here. It’s exciting and different, yet terrifying and stupid at the same time.

You had allowed someone to walk in your life and show you a world so amazing, so enticing and different, so new and wonderful. It’s intoxicating how life can be when viewed so differently. How someone can make every normal day feel like an adventure, even if it’s just staying at home.

You guessed this is what it feels like to love someone.

He had shown you wonderful things, beautiful things. How he sees the world and people, he really opened your eyes and mind. The uncertainty stuck with you though, the never sure if he’ll catch you if you should fall- not physically because he could, it’s his job to save and his speciality is catching people with his webs.

Peter Parker was an enigma to you, emotion wise. He showed you breathtaking views, he helplessly stuttered around you, and shyly smile and blush around you. He just never acted on his emotions around you, it was cute at first but now you want Peter Parker to have Spider-Man’s confidence. You had seen him be so effortlessly confident as his alter-ego, but Peter was so cripplingly shy and you loved, plus hated it about him.

You were walking a tightrope with him, high in the sky. Sure he was holding your hand but there was a nagging, the slight slip that you could fall and he wouldn’t hold on, he’d let you go and it was terrifying.

All thoughts were ceased when a loud clap of thunder startled you, you looked up in time to see dark clouds had rolled over and the beginning of a thunderstorm was happening. Droplets of rain started to drip down, a few landing in your hair. You had forgotten a jacket too, you sighed as you slung your backpack over your back and began to walk faster.

The rain poured down, soaking through your white tee and jeans, your hair stuck to your forehead. Your shoes were getting ruined due to the number of puddles you stepped in, doing the only rational thing you stalked down an alleyway- a shortcut to your house. It didn’t really shield you from the rain but it would get you home quicker, and that was a good thing.

“You shouldn’t have forgotten a jacket,” a voice calls and you frown, turning to look over your shoulder but seeing an empty alley, a small tap on your shoulder made you turn back and jump in fright at the masked face in front of you.

“Fuckin’ hell!” You yell you could tell that Peter was grinning, he always had a smug grin whenever he manages to scare you. “Yeah, well, shut up!” You sighed, turning your head to the right because he was upside down and using a single web strand to hang down in front of you. “Aren’t you meant to be saving people?” You sighed slightly.

He shrugs to the best of his capabilities being upside down, “You look like you could use a little saving, to be honest.”

“I don’t think you can save me from my mind,” you say before you can think, you sighed because you can already tell he’s frowning. “It’s raining, I just want to go home.” You mutter and go to walk around but he lifts a hand, pressing it against your chest and stopping you, you don’t bother protesting because Peter wouldn’t allow you to walk off anyway. He’s silent, his small way of telling you to explain.

The rain picks up, ultimately soaking you both more and you push the hair off of your forehead, shivering at the coldness of the rain. “I like someone, a guy, and I know for a fact he likes me because he refuses to let me go home even though it’s raining,” that receives a small chuckle from him, “But I don’t want to fully fall without actually knowing if he’ll be there to catch me, it’s all an adventure till it goes wrong.” You shrugged slightly, looking away.

You listen to the rain hit the alleyway floor, creating pools of puddles and splashing against the walls. The rain hit the trash cans creating a loud, vibrating sound through the alley; despite the loudness, it was calming and the cold rain helped calm your heated skin.

Something wet grabs a hold of your wrist, you glance to see one of Peter’s gloved hands is pulling you slightly closer to him and you step silently. Your feet now standing in a puddle, you don’t care as you frown at the closeness between you and masked Peter who is still, somehow, hanging upside down.

“I don’t want to pressure him either,” you mutter, a faint whisper into the rainy air, “don’t want him to think he has to declare his undying love for me or whatever, just want to know we’re on the same page.”

He still doesn’t say anything as he drops your wrist, using the same hand that once held yours and using it to lift the mask from around his chin and to his nose. You frown for a moment, watching as he doesn’t pull the mask fully off. Before you can speak again he tugs you closer, holding the back of your neck and connecting your lips to his.

You’re shocked for a second, not thinking for a moment that this would happen. Your eyes close instinctively, smiling despite how weird of a first kiss this seems to be. Him upside down, wet hand holding the back of your neck, your own cupping his cheeks. It’s mostly your upper lip trapped between his, yet it’s perpetual bliss. Even as the rain pours over the two of you, you forget about how cold you feel and instead sink into the feeling of Peter’s lips, finally, against your own.

You hear a faint beeping from his suit, a beep that you know all too well. You can feel that Peter is trying to ignore it, trying to hold onto this moment for as long as possible, even if you are drenched from the rain but that doesn’t seem to bother him either as he continues to kiss you in it. You try to pull away, he only pulls you back in for more causing you to chuckle.

“Go!” You mutter against his mouth, he pulls away enough for you to lift the mask back up and cover his mouth, stopping him from getting carried away again. “Go, so I can finally go home.” He chuckles, nodding once and swinging himself up and away from you.

You shake your head and continue your way home in an almost dream-like state, before you know it you’re back home and rushing upstairs to find some dry clothing. Pulling on a jumper and joggers, picking up the heavy, wet clothing and placing them in the dryer. It’s only when you hear the dryer rattling that the events settle in.

Peter Parker had just kissed you, in the rain, dressed as Spider-Man and upside down. You let out a light chuckle at that, grabbing a towel and drying your now messy hair with it, sighing contently at your house now warming you up but the bubbling warmth of Peter’s kiss had helped with that too. You fall back on your bed, letting the towel lay messily on your floor as you stare at the ceiling.

You end up falling asleep, only awakening when you hear your window being opened and closed- rather loudly. You turn your head to see Peter, wearing a dark hoodie and jeans, he gives a look around your darkroom before seeing you laying on your stomach looking at him with raised eyebrows. He looks exceptionally cute with his little, shy smile and hands in the hoodie pocket.

“You didn’t answer my texts,” he whispers and holds his phone to your face, the blinding light has you squinting.

“I’m asleep,” you mutter, “I mean, I fell asleep!”

Peter rolls his eyes, “I can see that now.” He nudges you, you roll over to the other side of the twin bed that’s pressed up against a wall but you dragged the pillow with you. “Hey, that’s meant to be my pillow!” he whines.

“Do you live in this bed?” You asked raising an eyebrow, hugging that pillow and resting your head on the other pillow with a grin.

He pouts and shakes his head, “No but my boyfriend does!” He says smoothly causing you to choke on the air you breathed and cough loudly, rather attractively too.

You regain your breathing, smacking him lightly as he laughs. His head thumping down on the mattress, dramatically turning to face you and using his hands as a makeshift pillow.

“I have something to tell you,” you mumble seriously, “I kissed another guy.” He frowns, a look of utter betrayal shoots across his face. “Yeah, this weirdo Spider-Man like, totally, stopped me in an alley and wouldn’t let me leave till I kissed him. It was raining, so I had to do it!” Relief crosses his face now, a breathy chuckle escaping his lips. “You should beat him up.”

“Well, I have something to tell you I am Spider-Man,” he says dramatically and you gasp loudly, sitting up and smacking the pillow on his face, very hard. “Ow!”

He removes the pillow as you fake anger, “I cannot believe you didn’t tell me!” He laughs causing you to chuckle.

Laying back down beside him as he places the pillow behind his head, you hesitantly rest your head on his chest; despite being in this exact position thousands of times before, this time feels different, maybe it’s because he called you his boyfriend a moment ago but it feels safer somehow. You both lay in silence, you listening to his heartbeat and Peter playing with your hair.

You hear the rain had started again, pattering against your window and you smile slightly to yourself.

A small part of you wished Peter could mind read, your mind repeating the words ‘i love you’ over and over with every tap of rain against the window.

(I don’t know why I ended it the way I did, it’s kinda a rambled mess at the end. I hope people like this, I tried really hard to make it cute and fluffy, I haven’t done a request in a while /: - Rosalie)