#routine work for the characters. my heart jumped‚ then‚ when the opening credits for this episode announced Alan Plater as the writer

[mariocki]

Katy Manning - in her first ever screen role, and credited as Katie - makes awful coffee and has a good nose at some industrial action, in Softly Softly: Task Force: Standing Orders (1.8, BBC, 1970)

[qitwrites]

traditions

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen 

Pairing: Itadori Yuuji/Fushiguro Megumi 

A/N: I caught up with the manga, and shit’s pretty fucked, so I decided to amend that with fluff. 

[AO3 Link]

Fushiguro - according to Kugisaki - is the textbook definition of a homosexual disaster.

No see, here’s the thing- everything was going fine. Great. No problems at all. Fushiguro respects his seniors, tolerates Gojo, and has the biggest soft spot for Inumaki, but he’s never been attracted to any one in his usual circle. So, school and sorcery and life in general was simple. No distractions, no crushes as such, no complications. All good.

And then Itadori Yuuji barges into his life and upends the fuck out of it by eating a special grade cursed object to save him. Then he joins Jujutsu Tech, and now they work and train and study and live alongside one another.

The thing is, Itadori is cute as fuck. 10/10 would tap that, any day of any week.

It’s not that Fushiguro has a type or anything, but Itadori just ticks all his boxes. When Todo had bullheadedly asked him what kind of person he likes, he’d said anyone with a strong moral compass that doesn’t waver in their resolve.

That’s Itadori in a nutshell.

Also, doesn’t hurt that he’s like, stupidly hot either. His raw physical prowess is reflected on his body in the form of shapely muscles, hard abs, and wide forearms that look like they could pick Fushiguro up and just throw him like a javelin. They actually can- Itadori had to do it for a mission this one time. Fushiguro enjoyed it immensely, and he will take this information with him to his grave.

So, not only is Itadori attractive and strong and of good character, but he’s also hella friendly. Fushiguro knows he’s not the easiest person to befriend- it takes a while for him to warm up to people, to share things about himself, to talk about the shitshow that is his family, but Itadori does not seem to give a single, flying fuck. He walks into Fushiguro’s life with the strength and ease of someone that just believes they belong. And Fushiguro lets him, because he is, as Kugisaki very accurately put it, a complete and utter homosexual disaster.

But it’s fine. Crushes happen all the time, and Fushiguro knows it’s hopeless and that’s ok. He knows Itadori likes him and cherishes their friendship, and that is enough. It will be. He’ll move on, and they’ll laugh about it in a few years (if they survive) and it’ll be great. In the meantime, he’s going to hole up in his room and read non-fiction books and stay away from pink hair and large toothy smiles.

Of course, the first person to fuck up his plans is Itadori.

It’s Saturday night, and dinner had been a simple meal of rice, miso soup and some sides made by Itadori. He’s a really good cook, and the home food is such a welcome change from the bento boxes Fushiguro normally picks up from the convenience store. Sometimes, Itadori will drag Fushiguro into the kitchen to teach him a thing or two, and Fushiguro learns, and pines, and smacks Itadori when he says something especially idiotic. It’s routine. It’s nice.

Dinner was an hour ago, and now he’s just curled up in bed with his book. It’s shaping up to be a typical weekend, which is nice considering the number of missions they picked up last week. His bones are aching a little, his feet are slightly sore, and he knows he’s going to sleep like the dead tonight.

He hears the knock even though it’s a bit soft. Fushiguro sits up and cocks his head. Was he imagining it?

And then there’s another knock, more confident. Thud thud thud.

Fushiguro climbs out of bed, setting his book aside carefully. He stretches his hands over his head and walks over to the door. ‘Coming.’

He swings it open, and he sees pink hair and his heart just sort of beats out of his chest.

‘Hiya.’ Itadori’s smile is wide, trusting, and full of gusto. He holds a packet of chips in one hand and a laptop in the other.  

‘What’s up?’

‘Are you busy?’

He should say he is. If he says he’s busy, then he doesn’t have to let Itadori in and he can continue with Operation: get over Itadori Yuuji. It’s the most logical move.

‘No, why do you ask?’ Well, apparently his brain has detached from his mouth.

‘Well, I overheard you telling Kugisaki that you’ve never seen the Saw movies and I realized something. Something terrible.’

Fushiguro tenses. ‘And what’s that?’

‘I can’t be best friends with someone that’s never seen Saw.’ Itadori pouts cutely, and Fushiguro is this close to just walking off the face of the Earth. He leans into the door frame, needing the additional support.

‘And I don’t want anyone else to be my best friend. So, the only solution is to make you watch Saw! With me! Like, right now.’

Fushiguro feels so much all at once- he wants to pull Itadori into a hug, he wants to jump off his balcony, he wants to slam the door shut and just cry, and he wants to watch stupid movies with this stupid man.

‘If you get crumbs on my bed, I’m going to kick you in the stomach.’

Itadori beams, and Fushiguro is a lost cause.

There’s a bit of adjusting (Fushiguro, your pillows are too hard, let me go grab mine) and a bit of remodelling (What do you mean we can’t make a blanket fort, that’s literally half the movie experience) and after relenting to a weird half-assed tent structure, the two of them huddle on the bed, backs against the wall, laptop placed on a chair by their feet with a bag of chips between them.

Saw is a terrible movie.

There’s gore and screaming and a creepy dude running around and it’s honestly just horrendous. The main character calls himself Jigsaw, and Fushiguro is tempted to flip the laptop after the hundredth blood spill. He looks over at Itadori who’s completely engrossed, eyes reflecting the colours and flashes of light on the screen. It’s cute, the concentration he’s pouring into it. His hand is stuck in the bag of chips and Fushiguro smacks it away to grab a few of his own.

Fushiguro does his best to watch and gets into it at least a little. It’s bad, but it’s not the worst way to spend a weekend night. He admits that a huge reason why the experience is kinda fun is that he’s doing something with Itadori that isn't life-threatening, which is a refreshing change.

The end credits start rolling and Itadori stretches his arms, fingers pushing through the droopy tent roof.

‘What did you think?’

‘I’ve seen worse.’

Itadori laughs. ‘I know what you mean. It grows on you though.’

‘There’s more?’

Itadori looks at him, blinks, cocks his head. ‘You didn’t know?’

Fushiguro shrugs. ‘I’ve never been a movie buff, so I have no information on this.’

‘Fushiguro.’

‘What?’

‘There’s 9 movies.’

Fushiguro’s mouth drops. ‘What?’

‘Yup, there’s nine in total, and the tenth one is in the making.’

‘Holy shit, that’s a lot of movies in one franchise.’

‘Yup. And we’re watching all of them.’

Fushiguro’s eyes widen. ‘What? No way. Nope. Not a chance. I can’t handle more of this, it was barely tolerable.’

‘It doesn’t matter! It’s the principle of the thing- you’ve started the series so you might as well see it through.’

‘9 movies? How can they possibly have enough content for that?’

‘It’s what they do. I promise it gets better and worse.’

Fushiguro sighs. ‘I’m not getting out of this, am I?’

Itadori pushes into his shoulder playfully. ‘Nope. I’m getting more snacks next time, let’s do two movies.’

Fushiguro sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

He’s really struggling to pretend like he’s upset with this development. He’s not upset. He’s honestly anything but.

---

Itadori comes back next Saturday with some blankets and a pillow tucked under one arm and a laptop in the other. He has a grocery bag with chips and sour patch kids hanging between his teeth and he still manages to smile. Fushiguro is so done.

‘Are you a dog?’ he grumbles, plucking the bag out of his face and setting it by the bed. Itadori gets to work immediately, setting up the pillows and his sad excuse for a blanket fort while Fushiguro brings a bowl for the chips and candy. Once they’ve settled in, Itadori starts the second movie and Fushiguro resigns himself to his fate.  

It’s really not that bad.

The movie is whatever, Fushiguro tunes in and out, alternating between watching the screen and sneaking looks at Itadori. He’s as engrossed as ever, and the tip of his tongue is sticking out in concentration and it’s so cute it makes Fushiguro want to curl up in his lap and squish him.

He’s crushing hard. Like, really hard. It’s about the gayest thing he’s ever experienced.

The movie pushes on, and they start to get more comfortable. Itadori isn’t a talker, which is surprising and nice, but when the movie lulls, he does make a joke or two. They sink lower into the bed, and by the end of the movie, they’re firmly pressed into each other from shoulder to thigh, with the bowl of chips on Fushiguro’s lap and the candy in Itadori’s.

Itadori is really warm. Could be his natural body heat, could be the king of curses residing within him, could be Fushiguro’s imagination- who’s to say at this point?

When the credits roll, Itadori stretches again like a cat in the sun, groaning his satisfaction. Fushiguro rubs his temples and wills away his blush.

‘What did you think?’

‘Not terrible, but honestly, what the fuck?’

‘That pretty much sums up the franchise.’

Itadori loads up the next movie while Fushiguro stays in position, comfortable. When he’s done, he leans back and makes himself comfortable against Fushiguro’s side, head leaning against his shoulder, his cheek pressed against bone. He looks smooshed, and it’s ridiculous.

If he gave a single shit about the movie, he’d ask him to move because he’s so far gone now there’s no way he’d pay attention at all.

Fushiguro doesn’t say a word, just sends up a silent prayer that Itadori remains there, pushed into him and all up in his space, for the rest of the evening.

That’s exactly what he does.

---

Fushiguro’s feet are burning.

The soles are achy all over, tender and jolty. Any time he walks, he suppresses a hiss of pain. When he’d taken a look, the entire sole was an angry red, and he’s just so annoyed.

The week had been tough- tons of running around and multiple search and rescue missions and this one tenacious curse that he and Itadori had to chase for several miles before finally exorcising it. By the end of it all, his feet were burning like a low fire in the pits of hell.

Itadori is fine, as always. It’s probably an incredible combination of his own inherent athleticism and lord dipshit within him, but Itadori heals at an accelerated pace, and like, he came back from the dead. Sore feet would be nothing to this guy.

When Itadori knocks on the door as always, an hour after Saturday night dinner, Fushiguro just calls out, ‘Come in.’ He really doesn’t want to walk to the door, so he’d left it open intentionally.

Itadori struggles to open the door on his own, arms filled with so much stuff it’s overflowing everywhere, and that horribly lovely smile is still stretched across his face and Fushiguro is just so smitten it’s ridiculous.

Itadori throws a few pillows in his direction, places a frankly ridiculous amount of snacks at the foot of the bed, and starts building his fort. Fushiguro is yet to help him with this, to actually put in any effort and make it with him rather than just watch him with a bemused smirk, but part of him knows that if he joins in, he’s admitting to something. He’s admitting that he’s invested. That he likes this as much as Itadori, probably so much more. That he likes Itadori so much, it’s all-consuming.

Itadori gives him the laptop while he makes some finishing touches on the fort, and he’s gotten better over the last few weeks. The tent is less saggy, with more room to move around and its range is expanding. It no longer covers just the bed, it extends to his desk and is inching towards his closet. Itadori is taking over his room, his heart, his brain, his life. He keeps taking and taking and taking, and Fushiguro just gives him more, happily, heartbreakingly, with all the love and nonchalance and patience he can muster.

He’s so whipped he’s giving Kugisaki a headache. She’s told him as much, repeatedly.

He’s got the final Saw movie prepped and ready to go, positioning the laptop on the chair as usual. Itadori grabs the bowls and decants their snacks before sitting next to Fushiguro, his head automatically resting on the man’s shoulders. Fushiguro rests his head on Itadori’s soft pink hair, breathing in the scent of the shampoo Itadori always steals from Kugisaki, and muffles a laugh. It’s so silly.

They’re about mid-way through the movie (by movie 9 there’s no milking the plot, it’s them just beating a dead horse ruthlessly) when Fushiguro shifts his legs and his feet bump into the chair, and he bites out a yelp of pain. Itadori sits up immediately, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

‘You ok?’

Fushiguro waves him down, wincing. ‘Yes, yes, I’m fine, don’t worry about it.’

‘Did you stub your toe? That’s one of the worst feelings ever. And I’ve had my heart ripped out of my chest. And lost an arm. And I’ve been stabbed repeatedly. Amongst other things.’

‘I didn’t stub my toe. And also, what the fuck, are you ok?’

‘I’m fine,’ Itadori laughs easily. ‘Seriously, what’s wrong?’

‘My feet hurt,’ Fushiguro admits with a defeated sigh. ‘We’ve been moving about a lot, and after that pineapple fucker two days ago, my feet have just gotten really sore. I soaked them in hot water a few hours ago, I think I should be fine by Monday.’

Itadori eyes him suspiciously.

‘I’m not lying dumbass. I’ll be fine, don’t worry about it. Let’s just get this horrible movie over with.’

Itadori hums, turning back to the screen. A minute later, he looks over at Fushiguro.

‘Well, I’m going to apologize for this in advance.’

‘Apologize for wh- HEY!’

Itadori, with his stupidly inhumane strength, yanks Fushiguro’s legs off the edge of the bed and right into his lap. Fushiguro is now laying down with his head resting against the headboard, and he’s about to kick out when Itadori just digs his thumbs into the arch of his feet and Fushiguro narrowly stops himself from moaning obscenely.

He has died and ascended. His soul is no longer in this realm of existence. It has found peace. The meaning of life. Attained nirvana. He can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

It’s seriously that good.

Because Itadori is strong. He’s really strong, so his movements are sure and deep. His thumbs are pushing against the arch, into the heel of his foot, pushing into that junction where his toes meld into the sole, and it’s so damn good. Fushiguro squirms.

‘How are you- ah shit, right there -how are you so good at this?’

Itadori throws him an easy smile. ‘Used to massage grandpa’s feet all the time. Became an expert over time, especially because I had a lot of his nurses guiding me as well. Is it ok?’

Fushiguro tries to throw him a deadpan look but then Itadori’s thumbs just push into a particularly sore spot and Fushiguro’s eyes roll back into his skull. When he’s able to pull himself together, he looks at the pink-haired man, feeling breathless.

‘It feels great. If you tell a single soul, I will drop kick you.’

Itadori’s laugh is loud and boisterous, and it fills the room completely, saturates it with this feeling of ease and honesty.

‘This stays here, no worries. Like a Las Vegas thing.’

Fushiguro smiles at the stupid reference.

After a few minutes pass by, Fushiguro reluctantly starts pulling his feet away. ‘You’ve done more than enough,’ he starts to say. Itadori wraps his fingers around his ankles, holding him in place.

‘I can honestly do this for hours, it’s fine. You can see the screen, right?’ Fushiguro nods immediately. ‘So, let’s just keep watching. I’ll stop if I’m tired, ok?’

Fushiguro relents without a fight because it’s the most relief he’d gotten in ages, and Itadori is touching him and he’s weak in every possible way and he lets himself be. Just this once.

They finish the movie (thank goodness it’s over) and Itadori continues to massage his feet as they discuss what the 10th movie could possibly be like. They discuss theories and plot holes, and Itadori doesn’t let go, his hands inching up and massaging his calves as well, and fuck if Fushiguro’s going to stop him because it feels good. He’s gay and Itadori is hot and his fingers are actual magic- like, they put sorcery to shame.

When it’s well past midnight and Itadori yawns a few times, Fushiguro finally sits up, pulling his feet out of Itadori’s grasp. The pink-haired man lets his hands linger for as long as possible, and Fushiguro decides he’s just imagining it. Surely.

‘I kinda, I mean, I want to repay you for that. You massaged me for hours, you know.’

Itadori pretends to think for a second before breaking into a bright, 100-megawatt smile.

‘Well then, let’s watch more movies! Let’s just make this movie night! We can watch stuff you look up as well, we can watch anything.’

Fushiguro stares at him, stunned. He hadn’t been expecting that and truth be told, he was really sad the Saw franchise was over because he assumed that would be the end of this, and he was too shy to ask what Itadori was so easily asking him. To see Itadori so excited at the prospect of an actual movie night, with no end in sight, made his heart leap and throb and squeeze. It was incredible.

‘Deal.’ He keeps his voice level and his face neutral, but he can’t hide his eyes and Itadori reads him in a second and his smile softens. He knows him so well now, like the back of his hand.

Itadori bids him a soft goodnight, collecting his stuff and shuffling back to his room slowly. Fushiguro falls asleep quickly, and it's deep and dreamless.

He wakes up to painless feet. It’s a miracle in every single way.

---

When Itadori gently pulls his feet into his lap the next weekend, Fushiguro doesn’t bother protesting it. He just gives him a slightly exasperated sigh, a soft smile and hits play.

They’ve decided to pick up the How to train your dragon franchise this time, as a welcome change of pace.

‘What’s it about?’

‘Well, it’s honestly all in the title. It’s about dragons and Vikings and it’s funny and it has great music!’ Itadori lights up while talking about it, and his energy is so damn contagious. Fushiguro feels himself getting hyped. ‘I think you’ll like it. Especially since you have those cool Shikigamis, you might relate to this more!’

Fushiguro hums, and they watch. Fushiguro routinely pushes pieces of chips and sour candy into Itadori’s mouth, and Itadori’s fingers become well-acquainted with the planes and bumps and grooves of his feet, and the shape of his calves.

Fushiguro gets really into the movie.

Not only is the animation top-notch, but the voice actors are great, the storyline is gripping, and Toothless is so childish and sweet and endearing, his heart aches with love. He barely pays attention to Itadori this time. He seems just as invested, even if it’s the hundredth time he’s rewatching it.

To Fushiguro’s surprise, he chokes up at the end, after the big battle. The whole scene feels strangely familiar in some ways, and he tries desperately to hide his growing discomfort. He peaks over at Itadori and his eyes widen.

Itadori is swallowing hard, his eyes shining and glistening with unshed tears. His grip on Fushiguro is tight as hell, but not painful. He’s barely holding on, it seems.

So Fushiguro looks away, and lets himself feel. He doesn’t cry, but it’s damn near the same feeling.

Itadori’s knowing smirk is as annoying as it is stupidly kissable.

‘You seemed to enjoy that!’

‘It was decent. Much better than all the Saw movies combined.’

Itadori barks out a laugh. ‘Decent, he says. I saw you nearly crying through my own tears. And you were glued to the screen. Such a liar.’

Fushiguro relents. ‘Fine, it was really good. I’m hooked, and I cant wait to see the other 2 movies.’

‘You know I’ll be here.’

Fushiguro is helpless against his blush. He barely hides it in the crook of his elbow. Itadori’s fingers are still pressing into his feet and it’s all so much but not enough. His heart still aches.

‘And the next two movies are visual masterpieces. Can’t wait to get into it all!’

Fushiguro nods, and with the promise of next week, he sleeps just a little easier.

---

When Itadori pulls his feet into his lap three weeks in a row, Fushiguro decides it’s time he does more to repay the pink-haired man. It’s definitely not enough to just grace Itadori with his presence and with a weekly movie night.

So, when they come together to watch the third and final How to train your dragon movie, Fushiguro stands in his room, chewing his lower lip anxiously. He feels like he may have gone overboard, and he’s more scared of being found out by Itadori, about his feelings and his hopelessly ginormous crush and just how big of a complete and utter disaster he is than anything else.

Before he can take it down though, Itadori walks in after a quick knock and a shout of Pardon the intrusion but not reaaallllyyyy.

He walks in, snack bag in his mouth, arms holding way too much stuff, and gives Fushiguro a grin before turning to the bed to start his usual set-up routine. That’s when he stops dead on his feet, and Fushiguro at least enjoys the look of complete and utter shock on his face. The snack bag drops to the ground before Fushiguro can catch it with a loud thunk.

So, here’s a fun fact about Fushiguro- he can build insane blanket forts. No, really, you don’t understand, he could be mistaken for an architect because that’s how good he is. And the reason is a bit long and a bit complicated, but it mostly has to do with his sister. When they were left all alone in the world, sharing a small space just between the two of them, they would build blanket forts with all the stuff lying around the house, and within those sheets, they were shielded from the world and all its horrors. They did it for a long time, and it was their tradition. They got better at it over the years, learning what sheets worked best, what make-shift supports held things up at the right height, where to place the pillows.

The minute Fushiguro started to put the fort together, his muscle memory kicked in and took it from there. It brought forth some memories that made him choke up, but he focused on Itadori, and it helped. He adjusted the height to accommodate two growing boys instead of two tiny humans, and before he knew it, the fort had sprawled to encompass his entire room. He borrowed pillows from Inumaki and Panda, who were willing albeit slightly perplexed, and he grabbed Kugisaki’s fairy lights to really spruce things up. The weather had gotten colder, so he had also laid out his thick duvet for them to slip under, and the icing on the cake was the pizza he had ordered. Itadori always bought the snacks, so he wanted to pull his own weight. Also, they were active jujutsu sorcerers- they may have eaten dinner an hour ago, but they were always hungry. It was endless.

Itadori remains rooted in place, and Fushiguro starts to get nervous. A bit anxious. A bit scared. What if it is too much? Had he overstepped in some way? Or what if Itadori looked forward to building the fort and Fushiguro had taken that away from him?

Itadori slowly looks at him, eyes piercing and unreadable and bright.

And then he smiles. The world rights itself a little.

And he smiles big, huge, all-encompassing. Its lips stretched over white teeth and his eyes are crinkling in that really lovely way and the dimples are dotting his cheeks and its utter magic.

‘Fushi,’ Itadori gushes, almost breathless. ‘This is insane. How the hell did you do this?’

Fushiguro bites his lip. ‘You like it?’

‘Like? Fushi, dude, my man, my guy, like doesn’t begin to cover it! I don’t have better words cause I’m kind of an idiot, but it’s. Like. A+. 11/10. I’m so impressed right now.’

And now Fushiguro is smiling with him, stomach flopping around endlessly, and he’s young and in love and he doesn’t want to be anywhere else.

‘I also got pizza,’ Fushiguro gestures to the table behind him, picking the snack bag off the floor and placing it by the bed. ‘I wasn’t sure what you liked so I just got the same thing you ordered when I was sick.’

Itadori happily bounds over to the box and leans in for a sniff.

‘I love this stuff, it’s yum. And it’s still steaming, all fresh and hot.’ Itadori gives him a big thumbs-up. ‘This is so bomb Fushi, thank you so much!’

Fushiguro almost says No thank you, you’ve been doing so much for our movie nights and I wanted to show you how grateful I am for you and for all of this and I love you so please take my heart and just keep it, I really don’t need it, you know?

What he says instead is, ‘Not a problem. Shall we set up?’

And so, 10 minutes later finds them curled up in their usual spots, except this time they’re under the covers. Fushiguro places all the food between them, and Itadori alternates between massaging his feet (which he cleans meticulously before their movie nights because he doesn’t want Itadori to eat with dirty feet hands) and taking bites of pizza and smiling and laughing and choking up at the movie.

The trilogy ends and Fushiguro can honestly see why Itadori has watched this countless times. It’s just that good.

If Itadori hears him sniffle, he doesn’t say a word. Just squeezes his calf and runs his fingers from his knees to his ankles and Fushiguro realizes, in that moment, that a part of him will always belong to this man.

---

They don’t miss a single movie night for months. They’ve now finished the Saw franchise, the HTTYD trilogy, the Batman trilogy, and the entire Annabelle series. If Fushiguro didn’t hate dolls before, well, now the thought of them sends shivers up his spine. And he fights curses. For a living.

Life is weird.

They don’t miss a single movie night for months. Sometimes it’s Sunday night instead, or Friday. Sometimes it’s earlier in the day, in the afternoon maybe. Sometimes, it’s really late at night, so late that by the time they’re done, it’s already 3am and the world is silent. The world doesn’t exist beyond the walls of Fushiguro’s room, and he’s ok with that.

On those nights, Itadori stays over.

They curl up on his bed together, not quite touching but not quite not touching. It’s a single bed and they’re not small by any means. The touching is inevitable. Fushiguro wonders if any part of it is voluntary.

He learns that Itadori’s toes are always warm, unlike Fushiguro’s. He’s a surprisingly calm sleeper. His sleep-heavy voice is deep, and his sleep-heavy smile is soft.

They fall asleep facing away from one another, they wake up spooning or being spooned. They don’t say a word. And they don’t stop.

The night that they finish the latest Annabelle movie, Itadori looks insanely freaked out and Fushiguro doesn’t blame him. That shit’s creepy as hell.

The problem is that it’s only 00:14. Too early for them to call for a sleepover unprompted.

Itadori’s got Fushiguro’s legs in his lap, and he’s pursing his lips as if deep in thought. Fushiguro thinks fuck it.

‘Do you want to stay over?’

The relief flows off Itadori in waves. ‘You’re an actual lifesaver, you know that right?’

Fushiguro smirks, and they throw snarky comments back and forth between them as they get ready for bed. Itadori brings his toothbrush and they clean up side by side, fighting for the mirror. They take the fort down methodically, like a well-oiled machine, and they curl up under the duvet, touching but not quite touching, facing away from one another.

15 minutes later, Fushiguro feels Itadori curled around him, legs tangled and arm carefully slipped over his middle. He feels him shake, and he can taste the hesitation and he knows Itadori will move away soon because they both know they’re both awake.

He moves his hand lower and places it over Itadori’s. He squeezes it once, and moves it away, and evens out his breathing. He feels himself drifting off, and the last thing he feels is Itadori’s arm curling around him just a little tighter, holding him just a little closer. The air tastes less hesitant, more hopeful.

It’s wonderfully frightening.

---

They don’t miss a single movie night for months. Until one day, they do.

The thing about Sukuna is that he’s the King of Curses, Lord Asshat extraordinaire, and an overall terrible being. Not only does he reside in Itadori rent-free, he also chooses when to heal him and when to watch from the sidelines as blood gushes out of wounds that are near-fatal. Itadori’s pain tolerance is impossibly high, but that doesn’t mean he can’t feel pain.

Itadori feels everything. He feels so much, so willingly, so wholeheartedly. He’s a feeler.

And so, when one of their missions go haywire (as always), Itadori risks his life for his classmates (as always), and is left on the verge of death (as always). The only difference being he doesn’t improve. At least not at that inhumane pace that he always does.

He’s not dead, but he’s not in the world of the living either. He’s drifting somewhere in between, and Fushiguro feels like he’s drowning. He can’t get enough air; he can’t see beyond the murky waters that are darker than ink.

Fushiguro is in the in-house hospital on campus and he rarely, if ever, leaves Itadori’s side. The incident took place on a Tuesday and it is now Saturday. Itadori’s vitals are stable, his heart is in his chest, beating, and his blood is circulating and oxygenating him.

He does not wake up, he does not speak, and he does not smile.

Something in Fushiguro’s chest cracks.

People come by to visit all the time. Nobara brings snacks and chats with Itadori like he’s ok, like he’ll respond. Only Fushiguro hears the tremor in her voice. Maki holds back from smacking someone in a coma, vowing to get him good when he’s awake for doing something so monumentally dumb. Gojo flits in and out as often as he can, and he always squeezes Fushiguro’s shoulder with a tightness that eases his chest just a little before leaving again.

After dinner on Saturday, Fushiguro decides to do something.

He lets himself into Itadori’s room- messy but not sloppy, and simple. He finds his laptop on his desk and charges it for a bit before taking it back with him. He doesn’t set up a blanket fort, simple loads up a Christopher Nolan movie that they’d decided on last week and lets it play.

He holds Itadori’s hand the entire time. It doesn’t squeeze back.

The crack in his chest widens.

---

He’s not there when Itadori wakes up.

Gojo had pushed him out of the room to go take a shower and grab a proper meal and maybe even take a nap, and Fushiguro had relented to two of the three- showering and eating. With a belly full of terrible convenience store food that could never hope to hold a candle to Itadori’s meals, Fushiguro slowly makes his way back to the infirmary when he hears voices. One voice, in particular, stops him in his tracks.

‘How are you feeling?’

‘My mouth tastes like ass.’

It’s one of the first things Itadori has said in a week and a half, and something between a laugh and a sob gets stuck in Fushiguro’s chest. He moves to yank the door open and throw himself at Itadori when he hears-

‘Where’s Fushi?’

‘Oh, he went to take a shower, clean up a little, all that.’

‘Ah. I see.’

Fuck, he sounds disappointed.

‘Don’t look so upset.’ Gojo teases. ‘He hasn’t left your side since you got hurt, you know?’

‘Really?’

Gojo hums. ‘He’s here all day. He tried working for a day or two, but his head wasn’t in it, so we forced him to sit out for a bit. He’s just been keeping you company here, reading, fretting, pining.’

Fushiguro wants to punch Gojo.

Itadori barks out a laugh. It sounds loud and forced and not very happy.

‘Don’t tease me about that sensei. That’s cruel, even for you.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘You know what I’m talking about.’

‘I want to be sure. I’m not a mind-reader you know. So tell me,’ Gojo urges, ‘what are you talking about?’

Itadori sighs. It sounds exhausted more than pained. ‘I’ve liked him since the day we fought the curse and saved my senpais. It’s cruel for you to tease me about a one-sided crush.’

Fushiguro is suddenly numb, hot and cold everywhere, and his head is spinning, an echo of ‘I’ve liked him I’ve liked him’ just bouncing around his brain endlessly. He has to force himself to concentrate or risk missing out more of the conversation.

‘I mean, why do you think it’s one-sided?’

‘Are you kidding me? He’s so out of my league, I can’t even think about it. He’s so. Just. Everything good in this world. And he likes dogs sensei, what more could I want in a person?’

Fushiguro’s vision is just swimming and he wants to smother Itadori in a hug and protect him forever. His feet are taking longer to respond to his brain though.

‘I don’t think that’s true,’ Gojo sings, laughing. ‘My advice would be to not give up. You’d be good for each other, you know? Also, he’s really not all that perfect. Trust me, I’ve known him since he was a child. This one time, during the spring festival, he-‘

‘Itadori, you’re awake?’

Evidently, his self-preservation instincts had bypassed his brain and forced his legs to move at near inhumane speed. God bless instincts.

Itadori is sitting up, and he looks a bit frail but the color in his cheeks is steadily returning. His eyes widen in surprise before his mouth twists up in a grin so wide Fushiguro is worried he’ll break his face. His eyes are molten, watery, and brighter than the sun.

‘Hi Fushi.’

For once, Fushiguro doesn’t give a two shit flying fuck that Gojo is in the room and will hence tease him for the rest of his life, he just walks over to the bed and gathers Itadori into a hug and holds him there, pressing his warmth into Itadori. There’s the beating of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest, and the smile on his lips pressed into Fushiguro’s shoulder.

The world rights itself on its axis, just a little more.

‘Idiot.’

Itadori’s muffled laugh makes him grin, and he pulls away. He rearranges his face in a scowl.

‘I told you before if you die on me-‘

‘-you’ll kill me yourself. I know, I know. I’m here Fushi, you don’t have to become a murderer. It’s a good day.’

Fushiguro lets his face morph back into a grin before looking over at Gojo. His teacher’s smirk tells him everything- how he knew where Fushiguro was, how he’s seen right through Fushiguro, how he’s going to tease him till the day either of them die. And Fushiguro wants to be annoyed and pissed off but he can’t bring himself to care, not right now.

Itadori’s heart is beating in his chest, and he smiles at Fushiguro, and his cheeks are tinting pink.

Fushiguro’s heart is full.

---

‘Sorry I missed movie night.’

Itadori’s apology is so stupid Fushiguro nearly gwaffs, but that’s undignified as fuck so he settles for a cough and a withering stare.

‘I mean, it’s not like you were in a coma or anything.’

‘You know what I mean! But anyway, I’m here now, so let’s pick up where we left off.’

‘No, we’ll have to move on to the next movie. We watched that one last week.’

‘Huh?’

Fushiguro looks at him, prays he isn’t seven shades of red. ‘Well, I thought maybe if we had a movie night at the infirmary, you’d feel better. Where you were. Especially if you were dealing with lord fuckwad. You know?’

Itadori stares at him in awe and chuckles softly. ‘You’re something else, you know? Just when I think I’ve got you all figured out.’

Gojo’s word reverberate around his skull and Fushiguro just clears his throat. ‘Yeah, well, I’m all about surprising people. Woohoo.’

Itadori bursts out laughing, and they go back to setting up the fort, the pizza, the snacks, the lights, the laptop. It’s easy and familiar and nice. They settle into the mattress, but Fushiguro doesn’t let Itadori take his feet this time, opting to press into his side instead. Itadori barely puts up a fight.

They’re roughly 8 minutes into Interstellar when Itadori asks, ‘How did you set up the movie in the infirmary?’

Fushiguro hums, ‘I grabbed your laptop and put it on a chair to your left. I sat on the right. I sat by your bed and I…’

‘And you?’

Fushiguro should be nervous but he’s not. He’s surprised by how not nervous he is.

‘And I did this.’ He laces their hands together, eyes trained on Itadori's.

It’s like looking at a bowl of liquid amber. His eyes are light brown, bordering on gold, and they’re mesmerizing when you’re this close. He doesn’t look away from Fushiguro, his breath doesn’t stutter, he doesn’t jerk away. He squeezes Fushiguro’s hand with his right one and slowly brings up the left. He rests it on Fushiguro’s jaw, soft skin meeting calloused fingers and there’s a heat building under Fushiguro’s skin that makes him feel that same hot and cold sensation everywhere.

‘I’m going to kiss you.’

Itadori’s voice is deeper than Fushiguro’s ever heard it, low and spicy and sure. His hands are gentle and confident.

Fushiguro doesn’t nod or say Yes or blush.

He just brings his right arm up, wraps it around Itadori’s left wrist and leans in, bringing them together in what is possibly the softest touch of lips ever, in the history of the universe.

It’s not hesitant, it’s just new. And all-encompassing. And maddeningly good. And soft.  

Itadori’s breath hitches and he leans his head, slotting their lips together better and Fushiguro is humming because fucking hell is this good. There’s no tongue, just pressure and nips and small licks and bites. By the end of it, Fushiguro is smiling into Itadori’s smile, and he’s kissing it and nuzzling it and he’s drowning in the best way possible.

Itadori finally pulls away, after several small kisses, and does that beaming smile that makes Fushiguro’s stomach do really terrible things.

‘I can’t believe all this happened because of Saw.’

Fushiguro’s smile shrivels away in a heartbeat and Itadori is laughing and snorting, the bastard.

‘Itadori Yuji.’

More laughter.

‘I swear on all that is good and pure, if you tell people we got together because of Saw, I will dump your ass so hard you won't be able to sit down for weeks.’

Itadori laughs some more and presses his giggles against Fushiguro’s lips and dammit he’s so weak and gay.

Itadori’s hand slips down his jaw and cups the back of his neck and he pulls him close, pressing their foreheads together.

‘We both know that’s not true.’

Damn it. He really does know Fushiguro like the back of his hand.

And so he does the only thing he can think of- he kisses him again. And again. And then some more, just because he can.

The movie remains forgotten, and frankly, they couldn’t care less.

[entertainment]

Entertainment Spotlight: Sherry Cola, Good Trouble

You may recognize comedian, actress, and writer Sherry Cola as Alice in Freeform’s Good Trouble. Additional TV credits include jewelry maker Natalie on I Love Dick, special agent Lucy Chen on Claws, and the iconic Lil’ Tasty. On the big screen, she can be seen in the upcoming Endings, Beginnings with Shailene Woodley, Jamie Dornan, and Sebastian Stan, and in the indie Sick Girl with Nina Dobrev and Wendi McLendon-Covey. No stranger to ambition in comedy, Sherry is also a successful stand-up comedian, performing regularly at The Laugh Factory, The Improv, and The Comedy Store. Sherry took a few minutes to chat with us about comedy, Good Trouble, and more. Check it out:

What is your experience of portraying comedy-aspiring first-generation Asian-American Alice? Can you talk about any similarities or differences between you?

I’m grateful to play a character that I never saw on TV when I was growing up. The deeper we get into filming these episodes, the more I realize how much it’s been missing. From speaking Mandarin to her best friend/ex-lover to diving into stand-up as a queer Asian female, Alice’s journey is so specific and overdue. Alice is adorably apologetic and she’s still finding her voice.

I’d say I’m more outspoken than she is, but we’re also similar in people-pleasing to the point of getting us in trouble. I heavily relate to Alice because I also have an immigrant mother who wasn’t well-versed about the LGBTQ+ world at first, but the more we show these stories on the screen, the more we can open minds!

Can you tell us about any funny or wholesome moments on the set of Good Trouble?

The scene in the pool for Malika’s birthday was super fun. It was almost 4 AM, and we’d already been floating in the water for 2 hours. I gotta give it up to our incredible crew for nailing all the messy shots of people jumping/falling in. It was hilarious being in that cloudy, chlorine-less human soup, just splashin’ around like little kids. Our entire cast adores each other so we’re always in good company. It’s a celebration when we have those big group moments.

Do you have a routine before you go up on stage to do stand-up? What is it, and how did you come up with it?

I do lots and lots of breathing because I’m nervous right before I hop on stage, no matter what. I also get very thirsty so I find myself going to the bar last-minute to get water. This happens every single time. I never think ahead and have the water prepared! I look over my jokes to remember which ones I wanna do. Then when I get up there, the throwing-up feeling disappears and I’m on cloud nine!

What is something you wish people knew about being a comedian in the industry as it is today?

Sometimes people take comedians too lightly. We deserve more props! There’s heavy stuff happening behind that microphone. We have the power to educate and touch the audience, in an almost brain-washy fashion, but not in a bad way. I can use jokes to shine a light on something like climate change, and people will walk away with a new perspective. Pretty cool!

If you could give any character on Good Trouble some advice, who would it be and what would you tell them?

This is the first time I’m officially saying this, but I’m team Callie and Gael. Y’all have something special, damn it! The fiery chemistry! It was spicy, but also tender...like a chicken nugget! Please give it another try and make some perfect babies!

Can you tell us a funny joke?

I saw this on a popsicle stick when I was in elementary school, and I’ll never forget it:

Q: What did the girl melon say to the boy melon after he proposed? 

A: We’re too young, we cantaloupe!

What advice would you give to your ten-year-old self?

STAY TRUE TO WHO YOU ARE! Things that made me self-conscious back then like non-American food that I’d take to school, or the fact that I never wore make-up, and just the general vibe of being unordinary - now I fully embrace it!

Who do you look up to?

I can’t even count on my fingers/toes/teeth/strands of hair how many people I look up to! From Sandra Oh to Lena Waithe… I have respect for all women of color who are pushing the culture forward. They motivate me to keep going so I can make just as strong of an impact.

Who inspires you?

My mom inspires the hell out of me. She came to this country and busted her ass off to make sure I have a comfortable life. Money means nothing compared to the feeling of making her proud. I get all my work ethic from her, from giving 110% to the importance of being on time, so she gets all the credit!

Can you tell us how Lakers-loving, jersey-wearing, Timberland-rocking Lil’ Tasty came about?

Lil’ Tasty is dear to my heart! She was a viral queen in 2016 because she was a breath of fresh air who said the most darn things. My friends Adam Episcopo and Rick Schaberg started a mockumentary-style series on Facebook called “Luber” which showed the lives of drivers who got rejected from Lyft/Uber. They asked me to create a character and naturally, as a lover of hip-hop, I knew this girl had to come equipped with obnoxious freestyle raps. Then I found an old Kobe jersey in my closet (RIP to the GOAT) and the rest was history. We shot these silly videos on a whim. We never expected to hit millions of views. Since then, Lil’ Tasty has built quite a fanbase, and I still have some things up my sleeve, so stay tuned!

If you could wake up as one of your characters tomorrow, who would it be, and why?

Waking up as Nuocki Mum would be dope. She’s an older Vietnamese lady who tries to keep up with the times. She’s completely oblivious but means well. She hits the nightclubs every weekend to stay young. I wouldn’t mind that!

Thanks for taking the time, Sherry! Check out the Good Trouble Tumblr for more.

Photos: Storm Santos

[giorno-plays-piano]

Your place

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (High School AU)

Warnings: yandere, obsession, bullying, threats, non-con.

Words: 1510.

Summary: You suffer in the arms of America's golden boy, the one who has been bullying you for years.

P.S. I just realized most of my smut fics are about Bucky, so I decided to write one with Steve instead. Btw, all characters had reached 18 years of age. Hope you'll enjoy!

______________

"Damn girl, you better put some makeup." Someone's loud voice behind your back made you flinch. "Y'know, you can still do something about that face."

You heard a burst of laughter and bit your lips. It had always been a part of your daily routine for several years once you moved to New York and went to Abraham Lincoln High School. God, you regretted it with all your heart.

"Come on, Sam. Give her some credit." You didn't even need to turn your head to know who was speaking. "She's the natural beauty, isn't she?"

You spun on your heels, watching harshly the group of guys leaning against the wall and smirking at you, all beefy, muscular and tall. The biggest assholes in whole Brooklyn; players of Howling Commandos, your school's basketball team; the ones most of the girls dreamed about and to whom they sent love letters every goddamn week, as the guys claimed. They had been your absolute nightmare since you got transferred to this place.

You glanced at Steve Rogers, America's golden boy, incredibly handsome with those blonde hair and blue eyes; the picture-perfect image of a diligent, polite student; the one whose face they put on promotional posters every year. You knew better than anyone else who was hiding behind this facade of "just a kid from Brooklyn".

"What, are you moody after yesterday's game?" You smirked, knowing very well that they had just lost against Hydra, the team Steve always hated with all his soul. "Go fuck youself and calm down, dear. Or are your buddies gonna lend you a hand, maybe?"

The smile fell from his face as the guy frowned, his bright blue eyes burning a hole in your figure. You guessed he really missed those days when you just listened quietly while he and his friends kept insulting you, but these days were long gone. You grew some teeth by the end of your final year.

"Listen, you little..." Bucky hissed, but Steve raised his hand and made him fall silent as you grinned, clenching your lunchbox in your hands.

Oh, he was mad. You knew well how much Rogers detested swear words, especially if they were coming from a woman's mouth.

"Watch your language, girl," his voice was unusually hoarse, his eyes watching you intensely, "or I'll have to teach you how to speak to a man myself."

"I'd like to see that." You giggled nervously, relieved there were enough students passing by to prevent Steve from doing anything stupid. "But if you want to complain to Mr. Banner to give me a detention, please feel free, dear."

You turned around with a silly smile on your face, waiting for him and his friends to give you some more empty threats, but you heard nothing at all as you kept walking. Suddenly feeling victorious and somewhat invincible, you laughed to youself, hurrying away. Did you just make those assholes silent, gasping for words at your audacity? Did it truly shut their goddamn mouths? God, it was unbelievable. Well, maybe going against Steve Rogers wasn't wise, but you couldn't pretend you were okay with that attitude of his after all those years of pure humiliation. You did nothing but protected yourself, right? Besides, he could hardly do anything since you were never alone at school, and after finishing your classes you were lucky to be driven home by your dad who worked close.

But maybe buying a mace wasn't a bad idea.

You laughed at yourself, finally arriving at the cafeteria and landing on one of the seats with a loud sigh. You knew Steve and his friends wouldn't do anything - their college admission was at stake, and you'd be happy to provide police with all the details if anything were to happen to you. Surely, they wouldn't risk it for just a few words you exchanged with them this morning.

_________________

Shit, you were so late for your PE class! Everyone was already at the field while you ran to the locker room, gasping for air. You didn't need Maximoff to yell at you the third time this month.

You threw your bag to the floor once you spotted your locker and jumped to it, abandoning your skirt in a matter of seconds and desperately trying to get your shorts out. You didn't care much about your surroundings as no one else was inside the locker room. Class had already started 10 minutes ago.

You didn't think anyone could be waiting for you here on purpose.

Before your heard the lock snap, somebody slammed your body into the locker, pressing you to its cool metal door so hard you lost your ability to move. Frightened to death, you were ready to scream, but someone's hand clamped over your mouth, muffling the sound. God, what was happening? Who was that? Why didn't you see anyone?

"Shhh, it's okay." You knew this voice too well. "You can keep screaming, but there's no one around, you know that."

You grunted against his hand, trying your best to throw the huge guy off you but achieving little: Steve was a bull of a man. His enormously big body leaned so close to yours that you could feel his every fucking muscle with his chest pressed to your back. His other hand gripped your throat tighter to make you stop squirming.

You needed to keep your mouth shut today instead of provoking him.

"Yeah, like that." Steve shushed you in a mockingly gentle tone, lifting his hand from your mouth and nuzzling against your ear, inhaling your scent. "I like when you're quiet."

"What the fuck are you doing, Rogers?" You asked him furiosly, pretending you weren't frightened to death. "Have you lost your head?"

"Language." His low gutteral growl made you shiver as you felt his palm on your neck moving.

Clenching your teeth, you tried pushing him away once more, but instead you just grinded against his heated body and realized he was... aroused, the bulge in his pants obvious as you moved your ass. God, no. No, no, no! You were at the edge of going into hysterics, shaking and pushing and crying with his hand on your mouth again. It was hard to breath with so little space Steve gave you, his unbearably hot body covering yours.

"What happened, dear? Cat got your tongue?" You were disgusted at his sweet loving tone. "Aw, don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. You wanted me to teach you how to speak to a man, remember?"

His grip on you was madly strong - you winced in pain once Steve had squeezed the cheek of your ass with his huge calloused palm, your head pressed into the cool metal locker as he hovered above you. When he started kissing your neck, you bit your tongue in utter despair. He was fucking sick. Deranged. He was ready to do this over some little quarrel when the only thing you actually did was responding to his bullying.

Your mind was hazy as you started losing your strength after good five-minute struggle. Rogers didn't relent in his efforts to keep you pinned and completely defenseless.

"This is rape, Steve." You whispered, exhausted and anxious. "Do you understand?"

"Come on, what are you saying?"

His hand travelled down to your hips as he caressed them gently and moved to tug your panties down your legs.

"You're so wet for me, dear. How can you call it rape?" You shut your eyes when Steve touched you down there, forcing you to spread your legs and settling in against the craddle of your thighs. As he moved the elastic of your black panties, his fingers were playing with your folds, and you realized with shame he was right as he spread a bit of your wetness on your skin playfully. "Admit it, you have a thing for bullies."

"No, I d..."

Before you could bark at him he forced you to turn your head and kissed you hungrily, pushing his tongue in your half-opened mouth. You squirmed, grasping his hand, yet his arm that he used to hold your chin before swept yours away as he pushed you against the locker even harder. You could feel his erected cock through the fabric of his school pants.

Making a soft noise at the feeling of his tongue rubbing against yours, you heard Rogers groaning, his chest heaved. If you could pull away, a shudder would rush down your spine at the sight of his face. Instead of a school bully there was a predator waiting to tear his prey apart.

"Stop, please..." You panted heavily once he finished kissing you, his fingers still caressing your womanhood, your juices leaking down your thighs. "Why me? What have I done? You have hundreds of girls who want to throw themselves at you."

He smiled and rested his sweating forehead against yours, teasing your entrance.

"You see, it's easy. You get off on being bullied, and I get off on bullying you." Steve started rubbing little circles on your engorged clit, admiring your blushing cheeks. "We can have so much fun together if you just stop resisting me and take your place."

___________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki ​ @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​ @lovelydarkdaydream

[martialstories]

Tape to tape - Chap. 2

Coops - High School AU

All credits for the world & the characters for @lumosinlove. I’m kind of sad that SW is ending but luckily there’s still Coast to coast left and 12 days of ficmas isn’t far away.

I wrote this fic(of a fic) before the last chapter was out. In case someone hasn’t read it yet, I won’t tell any details but I have to admit that the ending was far better than I could have hoped for. I was literally jumping up and down after reading that❤️

Happy reading!

_______________________________________________________________________

Tw: child abuse (not direct but definitely implied)

In the three months that Sirius had known Remus they had gotten pretty close. Sirius had to admit that he enjoyed being with Remus but he was rather surprised that Remus seemed to also like his company. You see, Remus was one of those people who was rather popular with his peers. Remus had adjusted to the team quickly and found his place easily. Of course there were some people who didn’t like him but he didn’t care about them. Luckily Remus had found his place within the better people in Sirius’s opinion.

Sirius on the other hand couldn’t usually come along with people like him. Or rather people like him didn’t like Sirius’s closed off nature. Remus seemed to be an exception. They had spent a lot of time with each other in practice and school as they shared the same French class and usually paired together in training and he hadn’t (yet) gotten sick of him.

Autumn was finally starting to blend into winter with temperatures dropping and sun rising later each day. This also meant Sirius’s birthday was getting closer. He didn’t really enjoy his birthday as it didn’t come with any special occasion in his family. Somehow his parents seemed to be even more annoyed by him around his birthday which resulted in Sirius getting a few punches more than usually. Especially his father seemed to consume rather impressive amounts of alcohol around this time as well.

Previous years he hadn’t had anyone who genuinly wanted to wish him happy birthday and pay attention towards him. Of course his teammates wished him happy birthday but they didn’t really notice his sullen mood and certainly didn’t bug him about it.

”Sirius, are you sure you are okay? It’s just that you seem a little quieter today than you usually are.” Sirius was stretching in the gym with Remus. They had already figured this routine that worked well for them. They both liked to stay and stretch well before showering so why not do it together?

”Yes. I’m fine.” Sirius answer came out maybe a little harsh but on his defence he was tired and just wanted to get to his bed and sleep. This wasn’t the first time Remus had asked the question and somehow it was getting harder and harder not to lose his temper.

”Okay, I believe you. I was thinking, we could maybe do the run together that we are supposed to do over the weekend. Since your birthday is on Sunday maybe tomorrow?” Remus asked.

”I think you should go alone this weekend. I’m going to be pretty busy.” Sirius said while l lying on his back and stretching his thigh.

”Oh. That’s alright.” Remus sounded a little upset and they sat in silence for a few moments.

”Are you really fine Sirius? I mean you just seem-”

”YES! I am fine, Remus! Just stop asking. Please.” Sirius let out a shout. He closed his eyes and sighed little. What are you doing? He is just worried. Sirius rose from the ground and walked to the locker room for the showers. He hoped Remus would say something but the silence wasn’t broken.

One shower later Sirius packed up his gear and headed outside. After a quiet drive Sirius opened stepped inside his home. He tried to be as quiet as possible getting to his room but apparently he wasn’t quiet enough. He heard his father calling for him from his office. Sirius knew he had no choice as he slowly turned and headed for the office.

When Sirius gained his consciousness the first thing he registered was how much his head was pounding. The second thing was how his back ached. The third thing he registered was the bunch of little sniffs he was hearing. He felt how something tickled his nose.

Sirius opened his eyes to see a tiny black puppy with wet eyes on his bed with him. It was sniffing at him before it curled up next to his head. They looked at each other for a while before Sirius properly processed what he was seeing. He slowly raised his hand to pet the little ones head. The puppy let out a tiny whine and pushed against his hand.

After a few pets Sirius started to wonder how the puppy had gotten there. That startled him awake. He was sure that he had locked his door before he had passed out here.

He rushed to turn around to see the whole room and search for any danger. When he looked at the door it was still closed and locked. Wait. Can this puppy teleport or something?

In the soft glow of the desk lamp Sirius’s eyes landed on the boy sitting on his desk looking at him. He frowned. How did Remus get in here?

”If you are wondering how I got here, I climbed through your window. And no, no one saw me. It is already dark outside.” Remus said quietly.

Sirius coughed before answering. ”I see.”

Remus looked at Sirius face. Sirius knew that he propably looked bad. He could tell that he had at least a black eye and his lip was split. There might be other bruises but he wasn’t sure.

Remus got up from his place on the table and walked into Sirius’s bathroom. Sirius could hear the sink being turned on and a while later Remus emerged with a wet cloth in his hand. He sat next to Sirius, scooped up the puppy from his side and dumped it onto Sirius’s lap.

”It wants attention. Can you pet her?” Remus asked as he raised the cloth to wipe at Sirius’s lip. Sirius’s breath hitched at the contact but he still started to pet the little puppy on his lap.

They stayed quiet while Remus cleaned his face from blood. After he was done he got up to take the cloth back to the bathroom. Sirius concentrated on the puppy and holding it close.

”You don’t have to talk about it. You don’t have to lie to me, but remember that I am here.” Remus said quietly when he came back. Sirius lifted his gaze from the floor to see Remus looking at him.

”I- umm…” Sirius hadn’t talked about this before with anyone. He trusted Remus with his whole heart but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to bear Remus with the knowledge of it.

”I’m not sure if I can.” Sirius’s voice was shaky when he spoke.

Remus nodded understanding. ”You don’t have to. But if you change your mind I’ll be here. Always.”

”Thank you Remus.” Sirius scooted to lay against the wall with the puppy on his lap. It had gotten comfortable to Sirius’s presence by now so it was play-attacking his hand and whipping its tale around uncontrollably. He felt the bed dip with Remus weight as he got up to retrieve something from his jacket’s pocket.

While Remus wasn’t looking at him, Sirius let himself tear up a bit. He finally felt like the universe was paying back for all the shit it had given him over the years. He had finally found someone who cared about him, and who Sirius cared for as well. He hadn’t known this was something he needed but now that he had it he didn’t know how he had survived without it. Now he couldn’t help but dream about more.

Sirius quickly wiped his eyes as Remus sat next to him. He took the puppy from him but exchanged it with a little present.

Sirius’s eyes shot up. ”Happy birthday Sirius.” Remus said with a small smile.

”Oh, you didn’t have to get me anything.” Sirius answered little unsure of how to handle this situation. He hadn’t received gifts in years.

”I know but I wanted to. Now, go on. Open it.” Remus assured Sirius while holding eye contact.

Sirius whispered an okay and proceeded to carefully unwrap the present. He let out a wet laugh when he saw that the wrapping paper was hockey themed.

Inside the wrapping paper Sirius discovered three chocolate bars. One was regular, other one was dark chocolate and the third one was filled with mint chips. Sirius was tearing up again.

”I wasn’t sure what you liked but I thought, how wrong can I go with chocolate?” Remus laughed a little worried as Sirius didn’t say anything. ”These are from my favourite brand. If you like these, we’ll have to try their special winter edition. They change the formula every year, you know. I heard rumours that this year they’d do one with gingerbread.” Remus started rambling as Sirius still just stared at the chocolates.

”I- Thank you, Remus. This is the best present I have ever gotten.” Sirius glanced at Remus.

Remus flushed a little. ”Oh. Well good. Though I doubt this is the best one you’ve got-”

”Trust me. It is.” Sirius said and opened the regular chocolate bar. He broke off two pieces and handed one to Remus.

After they had eaten a couple pieces in silence Sirius opened his mouth looking at the puppy now asleep on Remus’s chest. ”So. I didn’t know you had gotten a puppy.”

Remus petted the puppy and smiled. ”This one actually isn’t our own. You know my parents are vets, right?” Sirius nodded. ”Well, now that we have fully adjusted to life here they have gotten back to their usual antics. When we lived in the States they used to bring sick animals and ones that needed to be fostered back home all the time. They had to take a brake from that hobby for a while but yesterday they brought this little guy home. He was found on the side of a highway abandoned.” At that Sirius frowned worriedly and Remus grabbed the puppy gently and laid it on Sirius chest. The puppy nuzzled contedly and fell back asleep.

”After I couldn’t reach you all day I decided to come check on you. When I got up to leave she woke up as well and wanted to come outside with me. I didn’t want her to wake the whole house up with her small barks so I just scooped her up and put her in my pocket for the walk.” Remus told him.

”My phone must have died. I’m sorry I didn’t contact you. I didn’t know you even wanted to reach me.” Sirius muttered.

Remus shook his head. ”If you think I the little argument we had after practice is enough to scare me away, you are very wrong. And stop apologizing. It’s not your fault.”

”I’m sorry, I’ll stop-” Sirius was quick to apologize.

”Sirius!”

”I’m sorry- NO, I mean okay. I’ll stop.” Sirius stammered.

Remus laughed a little. ”Okay. Good.”  

They continued talking for about half an hour after that. They talked mostly about puppies to avoid any uncomfortable subjects. The clock was nearing 3 a.m.

Sirius yawned loudly.

”I think I should go. We should both propably get some sleep.” Remus yawned as well.

Sirius stretched under the covers. ”We propably should.” And threw his hand over his eyes.

Remus rose from his place where he was sitting on top of the covers. Sirius watched him walk over to his desk and put his jacket on. After that he reached inside his pocket where he pulled a dark brown beanie that he put on his head.

Remus turned around eyeing Sirius suspiciously. ”Where is the puppy?”

Sirius cracked a smile at that. ”I don’t know what you are talking about. I haven’t seen any puppies lately.”

Remus walked over to him and suspected his form beneath the covers. Sirius knew what he was looking for but he still blushed a little. Remus grabbed one corner of the blanket covering Sirius and yanked it off of him. Sirius quickly turned to cover the puppy sleeping near his side. Sirius started to laugh as Remus tried to reach the puppy but ended up tickling him. Remus smiled brightly at the sound but despite that he dove on top of Sirius to reach the puppy. He managed to grab her and turned with a wolfy grin towards Sirius. They both froze at that since their noses were almost touching each other.

”You found the puppy.” Sirius breathed out.

”That I did.” Remus said as he rose from the bed. He composed himself quickly before turning back towards Sirius who was pulling the covers back on. Remus held the puppy in front of Sirius’s face and smiled a little. ”Say bye. Now you’ll at least have a reason to start visiting.”

The corners of Sirius’s mouth lifted as he looked at the puppy. ”True. I’ll have to come see this little one.”

Remus slid the puppy into one of his coat’s inside pockets and walked up to the window. On the way he shut off the lamp leaving the room to be lighted up by the moon. He opened the window and raised one of his legs onto the other side.

Sirius took a breath in. ”Remus, thank you. For the chocolate. And for bringing the puppy.”

”It’s alright. I hoped you’d like them.” Remus said quietly. ”Good night. Text me when you wake up.” ”Good night.” Sirius whispered as Remus climbed out the window and slid it shut. Sirius burrowed deeper underneath the covers and let his eyes close. In the quiet darkness Sirius noticed how he could still smell the puppy and a slight tint of chocolate.

That night Sirius didn’t dream of pain and flying punches but of brown curls peaking out beneath a beanie and small puppies. When he woke up he wasn’t sure if last night was real but at the sight of chocolate on his desk he let out a relieved sigh.

Chocolate really is good no matter what time you are eating it. He thought as he munched on a piece while texting Remus.

[artsyxloner]

Not Just a Monster

Warning: lots of blood, Violence, gore, voices

1: Monster Troubles

Min Soo-Nico P.O.V

Standing in front of the shattered glass mirror I held on to both ends of the bathroom sink. As my nose was gushing blood staining my face it getting all in my lips.

I didn't dare look up at my reflection to be scared of what I would see. I could hear its voice inside my head, I wanted it out" Come on Soo-Nico, this isn't so bad just let go." The monster told me, as I heard its low chuckle.

It sent a cold chill down my spine.

" No, leave me the hell alone!"  I shouted out loud, not caring because there was no one here or anywhere as a matter of fact.

" Why there all gone, it was your fault after all wasn't it Soo-Nico?"  It spoke again to me reminding me of what I accidentally did.

" It wasn't my fault I didn't mean it!" I cried out, as tears fell making my cheeks feel moist.

" That's not what they thought!"  I then heard a 'tsk tsk' noise like it was scolding me. " you can forget all about them so you don't have to suffer. Anymore let me in."

I felt my chest puff out as my breathing became unsteady. " What do you know about family? You have none your just a hallucination!" I spit gritting my teeth.

" Maybe but I'll be real soon, the desire is too tempting to resist."  Those were the monster's last words that were imprinted in my mind.

"The desire was too tempting to resist."

I have to keep it in I have to stay in control I told myself sighing, Finally able to see my reflection all that was left was blood.

Turning on the water, I splashed my face rubbing it all off, spitting it all out leaving nothing. If only they were here maybe this wouldn't be so bad to endure?

I vividly remember their faces contoured in pain as they screamed. I watched them die, a gruesome death but I just stood there in a daze not doing anything.

Swallowing back my tears and a loud sob that wanted to escape my lips I walked out of the bathroom stepping into the lobby before it could happen.

I was going to turn into one of those things sometime soon an ugly creature that roamed the earth. I'm trying to stay in control for as long as I can but I don't know why?

Maybe it's because I'm wishing so hard to survive this and continue to remember them. They don't deserve to be forgotten for my mistake.

I made my way to the elevator pressing the button that said open. Before Stepping in I took out my weapon from my belt raising it high in the air ready for an attack.

The metal doors open revealing nothing. I let out a sigh of relief lowering my weapon, walking in I hit the top floor button.  I was going to go to the roof to scout out the area from above.

I needed to make a run since I'm low on supplies. And I wasn't going to sneak into any rooms in this building to find anything because I wasn't going to risk it being killed.

They're mostly empty anyway because it's a low-rated motel building.  I watch the numbers on the top corner of the doors count up to the top as it reached the 15th floor which was the roof.

Holding my weapon up again, I knew this wouldn't kill the monsters but it would distract them long enough for me to get away. That's the thing I hate about these things they don't die no matter how many times I slice, stab, or shoot nothing works.

At least that I know of? But I try to stay clear and never let them see me. Because if they did its game over. This isn't a disease it's a curse that we humans plagued on ourselves it's kinda like the seven deadly sins if you ask me.

The doors finally opened as I felt the rush of hot air hit my cheeks. I sucked in a breath being still because there's no telling what will be up here even though I've been up hearing a couple of times these monsters can come in any form, shape, or size so I had to be ready.

I walked out searching my surroundings trying to find anything out of the ordinary. Finding nothing, I relaxed going over to the edge, and sat down but not so far where I can fall off.

Putting my knife in my belt sheath, I grabbed my pair of binoculars and my field Journal along with my pencil. I had sketched out all the monsters I had seen and wrote down their strengths and weaknesses.

Most importantly where they stay at so I make sure not to go there or cross paths with them on my runs. This is why I mostly go at night so they won't see me. 

Flipping through the pages the images of the drawing Disturbed me a little. Even so, I was impressed with how detailed they turned out.

If shit didn't hit the fan I could have went to college to be an Art Major? Well, I guess that dream is over so I'm going to have to use it for this for now.

I frowned peering over the city with my binoculars in hand seeing the creatures climb the different buildings, some jumping on cars ripping the doors from the hinges dragging human belongings out.

One had a body of a human with a long extendable neck that had a huge eyeball attached to the top of it. The eyeball was appearing in front of windows staring inside them. That was the green roof apartment building. I started to sketch it out it being new to my notebook.

I figure the only way it could harm you is if it's a long body wrapped around you like a python and crush you to death if provoked. I wrote it down as it could be the only form of attack other than the human body it inhabited but not so much.

That was my routine going to sleep, eating, keeping hidden from monsters, trying to contain myself from turning into one of them, coming up here and looking over the city, and doing some new pages in my Field Guide.

My routine didn't change, and that's how I liked it. But I knew it wouldn't last for long so I prepared myself for the worst or at least trying to.

After a while of looking out at the city, it was time I had to go out on my run. Seeing I ate my last pack of kimchi noodles a day ago and my stomach was growling in hunger.

Getting up I had stuffed all my belongings in my bag hurrying to the elevator but stopped seeing what was in front of me. Its back was facing me thank God but I knew which monster it was.

It was the one that was tall with a slim figure that had its lower jaw and throat open up down to its chest. With a long like tongue that moved in different directions detecting ways to find its victim the suction cup on the end of it opened and closed.

Leaving a trail of its saliva and blood but I was pretty sure it could have been someones else's. Slowly getting on my hands and knees trying not to make a sound I took out my knife and crawled my way over to one of the air units and hide behind it.

Holding my weapon close to my chest I felt my heart in the pit of my stomach. Fear consumed me I hope and prayed that it didn't look or get a glimpse of me.

Just as my mind thought I was good its tongue shot out through the metal-air unit.  Making me scream, I jumped out of the way with no choice but to go. It knew I was here.

Going back on my hands and knees I scrambled to get away but then felt its slimy tongue-like thing wrap around my legs dragging me away towards it.

I shook my head I wasn't going to end like this. I searched for my knife I had dropped on the ground, I tried to grab it having my fingers so close to the tip of the blade.

But it was no use when I had gotten jerked up. My body swaying from side to side. I felt like I was going to puke but nothing would come up except water.

I knew my face was turning red I felt all of my blood rush to my head. As The Monster Tounge slammed me down. Hearing my bones crunched as it made contact with the concrete.

I sucked in a breath, not able to scream. My vision began to blur this was how I was going to die I thought feeling being lifted back up and slammed down again.

This time it released my legs, I laid there not able to cry because I couldn't feel any pain at all. Maybe it was because of my adrenaline pumping?

I slowly opened my eyes seeing the monster walk towards me. I turned my head not wanting to look by the time it gets here. I hope I am gone so I don't have to watch it stab me and suck all my insides up.

I cringed at the thought, this has to be one of the worst ways to die. I would still be awake feeling it. I had to do something I just couldn't lay here?

But then I saw something that gave me a sliver of hope. I had an idea it was a stupid idea but if nothing else could kill this monster then I'm perfectly sure this will do the job!

•••

I don’t own the characters, story line or plot all the credits goes to the creators of this masterpiece Sweey home. Carnby Kim/ Youngchan Hwang

[voidstilesplease]

Fandom/s: Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Heroes of Olympus

Pairing/s: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Rachel Elizabeth Dare/Percy Jackson

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Tags: Alternate Universe - Mortal, Cheating, Friends to Lovers, Friends With Benefits, Jealousy, Angst, Bad Decisions, OOC Characters, a significant amount of Taylor Swift references

Chapter 3

But the possibility that Piper knows about it didn't cross her mind. Percy had mentioned being back in town for a few days now, but Piper could not have known that, right? If Piper did, she would have told Annabeth right away because if anybody knows about Annabeth's broken heart pining after Percy all these years, it's Piper. She would've said something.

III.

And soon enough, you're best friends.

Laughing at the other girls who think they're so cool.

/./

Annabeth jerks awake from disturbances originating in the general vicinity of her kitchen. In her half-asleep state, her usually sharp mind turns to a useless mush. So with what mentality she can grasp, she concludes that it's possibly just her cutlery deciding to worm their way out the drawer to skydive to the kitchen floor. Her dream-silly brain likes the image she conjures. After all, not everybody's cutlery would be as adventurous as hers if that should be the case.

Maybe they want to remind Annabeth that they still exist, and she can use them sometimes. Good point, she thinks, but between blueprints after blueprints shoved to her at work, she doesn't have the time to be guilty about using only one spoon for her morning mashed potatoes. Unless it can wash, wipe itself dry, and put itself back to the drawer, she's sticking to her one-spoon-morning routine, thank you very much - that's all she can spare the time to clean.

She squints one eye open and sighs in relief to find that her entire bedroom blanketed in the same comforting darkness that engulfed her to sleep the previous evening. Yesterday morning had been hell. The sun had glared at her accusingly like she had done something wrong by sleeping it through past her alarm after a murderous evening at work. Usually, Annabeth scares people away when she glares at them, so she tried to glare back at the sun, and if she didn't have a degree in architecture and a line of buildings credited to her name, she'd have doubted her own intellectual capacity. She had hauled her ass up from the bed and went about her routine like she'd swallowed an entire pack of Sour Patch in one go. That morning would have sucked completely if it weren't for Percy.

Percy. Who's back in town. For good.

Whom Annabeth is going to have dinner with this evening.

A smile automatically tugs at her lips. In her kitchen, something clatters again, and she sighs. She moves her head to peek up at the alarm clock on the table. It's only fifteen minutes past seven.

She groans.

Now she can hear the blender whirring to life and the unmistakable 'ding' of her toaster. Any sane person who is aware of not having a roommate should already be springing off their bed and grabbing the nearest weapon they can use to bonk the intruder's head.

But Annabeth is used to the intrusion - this is her life now. So, she calmly gets off the bed and folds her sheets. She opens the door to her room and walks the short distance to her kitchen. As the whirring continues, she remembers the first time she woke to the noises. Annabeth wishes she can say that she was calm then, but she wasn't.

She had jumped out of bed, heart drumming so fast in her chest, and took the only item she could find in her room that could bash anybody's brains out - a baseball bat. (She didn't like the sport. It was just a souvenir from a memorable day. Her heart belonged to swimming. Or, though it wasn't clear to her at the time, to a specific swimmer.) As stealthily as she could, she tiptoed on the cold floor to knock someone out who thought they could use her kitchen while robbing her blind.

As it turned out, she had almost bashed her friend Piper.

Piper, bless her, had been unfazed. Not even after seeing the raised baseball bat and Annabeth's wide, frantic eyes. Piper gave her an innocent smile and a chirpy good morning, then went back to chopping celery, ignoring Annabeth's confusion and gaping mouth.

Piper grins as soon as Annabeth appears in the kitchen. "Good morning, Annie!" she lowers the cup of coffee she's holding on the table in front of Annabeth, who immediately reaches for it.

"This smells amazing," Annabeth closes her eyes and inhales. It is why she loves having Piper around for breakfast. She doesn't remember when Piper decided to be her mother, but as long as it benefits Annabeth with cooked meals and non-Starbucks coffee, she's not complaining.

But she can't exactly complain about Starbucks coffee, though. Not when Starbucks brought Percy back to her life - sort of. She realized that if Piper had come yesterday, she'd have missed Percy. But the fates brought Piper to her apartment today so she could meet Percy yesterday. She smiles contentedly at her coffee.

Piper doesn't miss her dopey smile. She raises a brow, pouring the contents of the blender on a tall glass. "Is it that good?"

"No words," Annabeth answers with a silly grin.

Piper draws her eyebrows in suspicion, "Why do I feel like we're not talking about the coffee?"

Annabeth shrugs.

Piper narrows her eyes but lets it go. Knowing Annabeth, it's probably a work-related high. Piper sets her glass of smoothie on the table and sits beside her friend. "Hey, I remember," she says, taking her phone out and starts browsing. "Juniper asked me to show you these." Piper swipes image after image as Annabeth waits curiously. Finally, she passes the phone to Annabeth.

Annabeth takes it and promptly gasps. "Are these for the wedding?" She draws the phone closer to examine the picture. It's of a forest-painted canvas with a man and a woman in the center, holding each other's hands as they walk side-by-side in the middle of a flower-field surrounded by butterflies. Annabeth looks up to Piper for confirmation. When she nods, Annabeth shakes her head in amazement. "That is beautiful."

"I know!" Piper takes the phone from Annabeth, glancing at the picture again before putting it down on the table. "When Juniper sent the picture to me, my eyes goggled."

Annabeth chuckles, "Grover and Juniper commissioned the right artist."

Piper nods in agreement, "And they're even getting it for, like, half the usual price. I suddenly want to get married." She smiles dreamily, reaching for her smoothie.

Annabeth laughs. Jason and Piper have been together since they were in High School. To be fair, they are practically like a married couple - sharing an apartment, sharing bills, considering the possibility of sharing a dog. They've even met each other's parents and got one another's mother or father smitten with them. It's perfectly sensible if they decide to legalize it. With that in mind, Annabeth asks, "So why don't you?"

Piper stiffens, and she briefly averts her eyes before giving Annabeth a wan smile. "He hasn't asked me yet," she says softly, looking away from Annabeth, slurping half-heartedly at her vegetable smoothie.

Annabeth bites her lower lip, mentally reprimanding herself for her careless asking. She didn't mean to poke on touchy subjects. She didn't even know it was a touchy subject at all. "Well," she begins awkwardly. "I'm sure you'll get there anyway." Annabeth offers a smile, hoping to ease the sudden tension.

Piper shrugs, "I'm not in a hurry. Jason's it for me." she pauses, then adds with uncertainty, "I just hope I'm it for him."

Annabeth frowns at the statement. "Now that's ridiculous, Piper." She reaches to touch her friend's hand a bit forcefully. She looks her dead in the eyes and says in total assurance. "Jason's head over heels for you, okay, it's almost criminal that you think you're not it for him."

Piper lifts her eyes, a hint of smile ghosting in her pouting lips. "You think so?"

"You're an idiot for even doubting,"

That seems to alleviate Piper's insecurity, at least for the moment, because she smirks at Annabeth. "Yeah, I guess I'm an idiot. Of course, Jason can't get enough of me. I mean, come on."

Annabeth rolls her eyes. Piper's weird sometimes.

She happily slurps at her smoothie now, humming a chipper tune. She reaches for the plate of toasts and passes it to Annabeth along with a jar of strawberry jam. Annabeth just watches her with amusement.

They eat in silence for a moment before Annabeth hears a clearing of a throat. She looks up to see Piper looking at her intently. Of course, Piper didn't come into her apartment early in the morning just to accompany her to a lovely, peaceful breakfast.

"…Yes?" Annabeth prompts with resignation. If this is happening -and it is- because it's Piper's business now to harass Annabeth, she wants to get it over with sooner than later. She mentally prepares for the onslaught of Piper's usual intros. But, instead of saying "There's this spa that we should check out," or "Do you remember Mark Castillo from 10th grade? Did you see his Facebook status change to Single last night?" or "We should shop new underwears for you, Annie. What you have are boring me to death", she said:

"How's work?"

That certainly catches Annabeth off-guard. Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline.

At Annabeth's incredulous expression, Piper says defensively. "What?" she reaches for another toast. "Am I not allowed to ask about your work?"

"You're not interested in my work." Annabeth deadpans.

"I'm asking, aren't I?" Annabeth detects the unspoken 'duh'. "And I know a little about architecture, mind you. I just want to know how you're doing at work."

Annabeth hums unconvincingly, taking another sip of her coffee. She decides to ride along with it. "Well, for starters, I'm up to my neck busy. As always."

Piper nods for her to go on.

"We've contracted a new project for downtown."

Piper hums.

"It's nothing major, but the area is swarming with water pipes -many of which are old ones- so we have to be extra careful with the planning."

Piper nods, "But you aren't the only one working on it, right?"

"No. I have a team." Annabeth confirms.

"So," Piper stretches the 'o', studying the toast in her hand a little too casually. "That means that even if you weren't around, say you went out or something, a whole team is still gonna work on it?"

Annabeth narrows her eyes skeptically, "…I suppose. I'm not the project head." Annabeth answers slowly.

"So…" Piper looks away again, picking at the toast. "There's no reason to cancel Friday night, right?"

Annabeth purses her lips. She sets her cup on the saucer and folds her arms together, "I already said I would go."

Piper blushes crimson and gives up the innocent, interested-in-friend's-work scheme, "I just want to make sure!"

"I'm going, okay?" Annabeth huffs in mild exasperation. "And, if I ever go back on my promise, you have the permission to drag my ass over to the club."

"Deal," Piper quickly agrees. "Do we seal this oath with blood?"

Annabeth shakes her head as Piper starts laughing.

Piper is weird but a wonder. Annabeth is ever so thankful for having Piper as a friend. They have been friends since the 10th grade when the Cherokee girl transferred to Goode. They didn't particularly become friends instantaneously because she came around the school as Drew's half-sister.

Drew wasn't exactly Annabeth's favorite person on campus. She was a cheerleader who penned herself as the queen of Goode High, dated around, and clung to different guys when her grade couldn't even hang on to a C minus. And her face, always caked in make-up, always smiled condescendingly at everybody as if they were lesser beings. She made Annabeth want to punch something. Anything. Drew's annoying face would have been good enough.

When rumors scattered about Drew having a half-sister on campus, Annabeth was sure she'd be a clone of Drew, and Goode High was doomed. Frankly, their school had had enough mini-skirt, crop-top, belly-button girls who thought the ground they stepped on was sacred. Another one to add to them and Goode would have crumbled. After all, what else could they expect from somebody blood-related to Drew? Annabeth loathed her guts.

As it turned out, though, her half-sister hated Drew's guts just as much if not more. Literally.

She proved that during P.E. class in a volleyball game when she purposely spiked the ball straight towards Drew's midsection hard enough that Annabeth was surprised why Drew hadn't spewed her entire digestive system all over their gym court. Drew doubled over, wheezing in pain and yelling about how Piper tried to murder her. The teacher had to give Piper detention since the girl didn't deny the accusation and refused to apologize. When they took out Drew, who glowered at her sister the whole way out, Piper smirked at her unapologetically and waved her goodbye by flicking her fingers and blowing her a kiss.

Annabeth wanted to slow clap and pat her in the back for a job well done. She didn't need to anyway because the matching gleam in their eyes spoke enough for both of them. Piper and Annabeth became good friends, bonding over a mutual hatred of Drew. Then Piper started hanging out with Annabeth's group of friends, and the rest is history.

"You've got to be honest, though, Annie. You love it when I come by." She sips from her smoothie. "Because then, you won't have to eat packed mashed potatoes again."

"I love mashed potatoes," Annabeth says defensively, reaching for a toast and slathering it with strawberry jam.

"No, you don't." Piper also eats her toast with avocadoes. She gestures at Annabeth's food. "I hope you like strawberry jam."

"It's okay," Annabeth chews. It's decent enough, she thinks. Strawberry had been her favorite jam when she was younger, but that has changed now.

"I just thought maybe you should try a different flavor. All I ever see you have is blueberry. I figured maybe you miss your old favorite."

"I don't. Blueberry is everything to me."

Piper probably doesn't mean to sting Annabeth when she mutters, "Took you long enough to realize it, though."

But Annabeth is stung. And Piper is correct.

Blueberry is Percy's favorite. She had never appreciated it until Percy was gone from her life. She just one day found herself picking blueberry jam instead of strawberry at the grocery. Because, somehow, it made her feel closer to him. It was a futile act, but it was all she could cling to.

They ate in relative silence for a while before Annabeth remembers the conversation over the phone the previous day. It's time to question Piper about it. "Hey," she waits until Piper is looking at her. "You wanted to tell me something."

Piper's brows scrunch up.

"Yesterday," Annabeth clarifies. "Over the phone?"

Piper draws a blank.

Annabeth elaborates, "We were talking about Friday night, and I said yes to going, and then it's like you hesitated over something?"

Annabeth can tell when the realization hits. Piper's eyes widen a fraction. "Oh,"

Annabeth stares expectantly.

Piper looks down, breaking their eye contact, "It was nothing," she says with a small voice.

"You're lying."

Piper doesn't deny the accusation, but her eyes remain downcast.

"Piper, what are you keeping from me?" Annabeth asks, feeling that the playful air around them has been replaced by tension yet again. Piper bites her lower lip, only spurring Annabeth's curiosity. "Piper,"

"Annie, I'm sorry." Piper whispers. She raises her head to look at Annabeth with wide, desperate eyes.

"I can't accept your apology if I don't know what it is for," Annabeth's gaze doesn't leave Piper's. They look at each other - Annabeth urging and Piper trembling.

Finally, Piper sighs in defeat and quietly utters. "It's Percy."

Silence immediately follows Piper's statement. Because for the first time in many years, Piper openly mentions Percy's name in her presence.

Annabeth answers, trying to keep her voice level, "What about Percy?"

Piper gnaws at her lower lip, "I've wanted to tell you, but…"

"But?"

Like a dam breaking, Piper begins barraging. "I don't know if I should be the one to tell you this. I mean, yes, of course, I'm your best friend, but I'm his friend too. And after that-that," she wrings her hands. "I mean, he's been gone for so long, and maybe if I tell you, he's just going to disappear again. He never said anything about not telling you, but I - or, or maybe you're going to disappear this time and I - we can't have any of that, you know? Especially not now. So I decided to wait for the right time, but I don't know if there's ever a right time for anything, really-and, and,"

Piper is talking so fast that Annabeth struggles to catch up. "Piper, you're rambling."

"I know!" Piper whines in frustration. "And I hate to be turned into a blubbering fool, but I… but I want you to know that I kept my mouth shut because I didn't want either of you running away in different directions when the wedding's in a week!"

Annabeth grabs Piper's swinging arms. "Piper," she snaps to get her friend's attention and stop her from ranting anymore. "If you would just tell me-"

"He's in New York!"

It makes Annabeth pause. Well, she knows that. But the possibility that Piper knows about it didn't cross her mind. Percy had mentioned being back in town for a few days now, but Piper could not have known that, right? If Piper did, she would have told Annabeth right away because if anybody knows about Annabeth's broken heart pining after Percy all these years, it's Piper. She would've said something.

But Piper is in her kitchen with a guilt-stricken face. "How long have you known?"

Piper blinks, confused. "You don't sound surprised. Do you know he's back?"

Annabeth nods, "Only yesterday. We saw each other at Starbucks."

"Oh,"

"Piper, how long have you known that he's here?" Annabeth repeats her question, impatient to hear that Piper only actually found out the same day Annabeth did.

But Piper grimaces, hunching in her seat to make herself small. "Since he told Jason that he was coming home," she finally admits. She draws a shaky breath, hanging her head in guilt.

Something inside Annabeth collapses. She leans back in her seat in disbelief, "You all knew?"

Piper quickly shakes her head, "No, not all of us. Only Jason, Grover, and I." Annabeth almost sag in relief to know that she isn't the only one left in the dark about this. "None of us has seen Percy yet, though. He's been busy with the transfer of work location and settling in again. That's also why Friday night is important. He'd be there. For the first time in a long while, we'd be complete."

Annabeth is silent for a period, then nods weakly.

"Do you hate me?" Piper's voice hitches, and when Annabeth turns to her, her eyes are already brimming with tears.

She hates when Piper cries. God, it isn't even her fault that she knows. It isn't her fault that Percy told Jason and Grover, his best friends, and it isn't her fault that Jason told her. Annabeth knows Piper would rather not know. But now that she does, it's not her fault she wants to protect both Annabeth and Percy from each other. Not after what happened years ago between them.

Annabeth stands up and walks over to her friend, who is just about ready to explode. As soon as she opens her arms for Piper, her friend immediately melts into soft sobs. "I'm sorry, Annabeth. I didn't want to lie, but…" her voice catches again, and Annabeth rubs her back to soothe her. Piper must have felt bad about keeping the secret from her, knowing how important it is for Annabeth.

"I don't hate you, Piper. I can never hate you."

Piper sniffles, "I lied to you,"

"You kept a secret." Annabeth corrects. "That's hardly lying. And you did it for a good reason."

Piper pulls away from the hug to look at Annabeth, her eyes still misty from crying. "Thank you, Annie."

Despite herself, Annabeth smirks. "But you owe me a week of coffee and breakfast for this."

Piper laughs, and the heavy atmosphere around them dissipates completely.

/./ curt /./

[werifestaria]

Hi I love your blog layout it so tidy!! Also would it be alright if I got a bnha matchup please?. My pronouns are she/her and I'm bisexual. My personality type is ISTJ, I'm a sagittarius sun, scorpio moon and libra rising. To the public I'm pretty closed off/reserved but with my friends I'm brave, loyal and love to laugh. I don't trust easily and I'm pretty cautious of everyone so I try to keep out of the way.

My hobbies include gymnastics which I did competitively and won a few medals, I also do figure skating and have leveled up pretty quickly at that. I workout everyday because even though I dont compete now I still want to improve and if anything I'm better now than I was back then.

I like indie music, horror movies mainly psychological, nature and wildlife and the peace and quiet it brings. I hate loud, busy places, untidy, dirty things and people messing up my routine.

My love language is quality time like I just wanna be around that person a lot. I think the love language that speaks to me most is probably also quality time, like the fact that they would want to be around me willingly seems so unfamiliar I love the idea of it. Also words of affirmation or physical touch, I'm awkward at giving those but receiving them would make me melt cause I'm not really used to any of it. My ideal dates are simple things like going on walks at like 3am or dancing in the livingroom or movie nights just cheap simple things like that.

hope that's okay sorry it kindof long :)

𝐦𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐚

Thank you so much for one of our first requests! We appreciate your love for the layout as well!! Tbh, I spent multiple hours straight getting it just right, so it’s a relief people find it pretty- and also, Scorpio moon gang! anyways, I hope you enjoy your matchup from me! Have a lovely day, hun

𝐦𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 . . .

𝐞𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚 !

runner-up : hanta sero

Easily, Kirishima is one of BNHA’s most easygoing, compassionate characters. His heart is big and always in the right place. Based off of your description and his own array of traits, I think he is the perfect character for you! Like, almost a little too perfect. A Sagittarius and a Libra (Kirishima’s sun sign!) are said to be very compatible and harmonious. Even better, it’s also said that people are often drawn to others who have their sun sign in the ascendant—Kirishima being a Libra sun and you being a Libra rising! To make things even more fantastic, perfect, and everything in between, Kirishima’s MBTI (according to The Personality Database) is ESFP. Guess what? ISTJ’s and ESFP’s are said to be extremely compatible! Of course, he’d find your inner demeanor to be extremely attractive. As he is naturally social, he wouldn’t mind your reserved nature and would pursue you in both friendship & romance regardless. Your outer shell would only lead him to appreciate your comical inner-self even more! He’d greatly admire your bravery and loyalty as well—it’s not something you see often anymore, after all. He’d try to bring the best out of you as naturally as possible, letting you do the same to him. Easily, he’s the most supportive boyfriend you could ever get! This man would adore you with patience, admiration, and sheer love, all with his own cheesy, dorky flair. I imagine Kirishima is careful in love, yet just as bold as the sun. He’s grounded, but on his most passionate days, his admiration can never be paralleled. You’d simply make him weak in the knees with every glance you’d spare him!

𖥸 Your music taste simply infects him. Imagine him listening to indie music with you 🥺🥺 your head in his lap as he plays with your hair- omg!! he loves to just sit and vibe with you. Nothing can compare to the fun you have on your chilliest days- he loves spending time with you in little ways like that

𖥸 Workout dates!! He’s infatuated with you for many reasons, but one of them is because you work out. The dude literally thinks it’s the coolest thing in the world and he adores working out with you. It’s easily his kryptonite lol

𖥸 Kiri has no concept of grace, so he is extremely impressed with your gymnastics and figure skating skills!! He could watch you do your thing for hours tbh. Like, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. In fact, I think he’d try to incorporate more nimbleness to his moves even though such a feat is kinda difficult when you can turn into rock. You gotta give him some credit tho- we all know he can be a little too opportunistic!! Just imagine him tripping all over himself because he wants to be nimble like you- that little blush on his face as he apologies for being a dummy- aww 💕💕

𖥸 Simply the king of casual dates. Sure, he’d love to spoil you with the stars and more, but he knows you like it calm- fr, you two are actually the cutest when it comes to staying up late and just messing around with no care in the world 💕 also, nature dates? Small picnics in the park?? I bet he’d love to go hiking with you. He likes to point out cool flowers or pretty weeds whenever you two are outside for even the shortest amount of time

𖥸 He loves watching horror movies with you.. even though they scare him a little bit LMAO- but just cuddling with you as your favorite movie plays in the background is simply heaven to him. Maybe you can turn him into a psychological horror buff!!

𖥸 He is also the king of words of affirmation~ the dude loves to remind you about how much you mean to him and how confident you make him feel within himself

You two really are couple goals imo 💕💕💕

𝐦𝐨𝐝 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡

Gahhh!! I was so excited to ship you with someone!! Thank you so much for requesting!! Also! Don’t worry about long bios in your matchup requests! The longer they are the more mod Ara and I can assess who’s best for you! Its definitely preferable. I hope you enjoy who I match you with. ^w^

𝐦𝐨𝐝 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 . . .

⠀

𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐨 !

runner-up : hanta sero

In my opinion, I feel that Mina is the perfect match for you!! First lets get some compatible basics out of the way. Like our good friend Kirishima above, Minas MBTI is also an ESFP (according to the personality database lol). As we know, ESFPs tend to be the most compatible with ISTJs. To add onto that, Mina just so happens to be a Leo!! Leos and Sagittarius's are often compared to soulmates and having a twin flame like connection! It’s a little scary how well you two fit each other, personality dynamics and all. Though you may have been cautious and quiet at first meet, Mina most likely pestered and wiggled her way into your life! She loves making new friends anyhow, and saw no issue in going out of her way to talk to you every chance she could. Now becoming your girlfriend later on would just be an added bonus for her! You better believe she finds your bravery admirable, it drives right up her alley. The two of you would make an absolute power couple, even a fan favorite!! Often, she’d make jokes or even play along with ones that you make in return, just to be able to hear your laughter. It fills her stomach with butterflies and she’s near falling apart at the seams with every melodic giggle. Get ready to be showered in compliments and praise, that’s this girls specialty, and she’d happily fluster you any day with her sickeningly sweet words. 

𖥸 Mina would probably ask you to spar with her a lot. Practicing new moves and quirk related techniques. God knows she loves staying active, and doing something she deems this fun with someone she loves. It makes the moment even more worth while. With your experience in gymnastics, you’d find that you’re able to run circles around this girl with your skill. Afterwards she’d probably offer a massage to ease any sore muscles. 

𖥸 Now as much as Mina would probably prefer a night on the town as a date, she would not think twice about choosing a secluded casual option for your comforts sake. Be that stargazing or even staying in to watch one of those horror films  that you love oh so much over popcorn and sodas. (She’s actually terrified of them, and has a weak stomach, but she’d never tell you that.) 

𖥸 Aimless car drives. Picture the sun setting, painting the sky in a soft pink and an orange hue flickering off of the distant buildings. Your preferred indie song blaring through the speaker while the two of you belt out the lyrics. Neither of you can hear each other over the sound of the wind rolling in through open windows, or how high she cranked the volume. You’ll definitely have to be the one to turn it back down, she can’t help but love loud music, even if the music wasn’t intended to be loud in the first place lol. 

𖥸 Don’t be surprised if she comes to you one day with a gift bag in hand. Every time she goes into a store she has to come out with something that reminds her of you. She’s not even aware of it either until you point it out. This could range from something as simple as your favorite drink to a giant teddy bear that she claimed resembled you. The possibilities are endless. 

𖥸 My word is she in love, infatuated even. That one night she caught you dancing about in the kitchen, probably making a late night snack, she couldn’t look away. In fact, she still thinks about it from time to time. How happy and carefree you looked lip-syncing the lyrics, in the silliest kinds of pjs you owned. She tried to sneak her way in, trying her best to not to make you jump in surprise, though she probably failed with how eager she actually zoomed in. Her love for dancing couldn’t go unnoticed here, oh no, not now. She brought you in close with a twirl under her arm, her smile the widest you’ve seen it. Her flirty nature, only for you, had her compliments laced with sugar and honey. Who knows how long the two of you spent dancing and goofing off to your playlist in that darned kitchen. 

Gosh the two of you make me squeal!! There’s absolutely no way you aren’t made for each other!  

𝐰𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫

𝐠𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭-𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 !

[ijustwant2write]

Two Sides-Brock Rumlow x Reader

(GIF credit to @rockbumlow​)

Tags: @amirahiddleston @bloodorangemoonlight

Requested by anonymous: 'Hi! Could I please request something with Rumlow? Maybe the reader part of strike but is super shy but it comes across as very aloof and the only reason she’s shy is because she’s nervous around Rumlow?'

Characters: Brock Rumlow x Reader, (there are made up characters in this story too)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

(Y/L/N)=Your last name

Warnings: Shyness, bullying, self pressure, loneliness, swearing, fluff, sexual tension

(A/N: I got waaaaayy too into this)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Ready for another day agent (Y/L/N)?" Matt, a fellow agent asked, way too perky for my liking.

"You ask me that every morning." I dryly said as we stepped into the elevator.

"And I always wait for an answer. I still haven't got one yet."

"We're here for work."

Matt sighed.“You know we’re on the same team right? It wouldn’t hurt to engage in some friendly conversation.”

I didn’t reply, hating that I couldn’t think of anything to say back. I knew it came off as rude, I wasn’t stupid. Despite being able to think on my feet during a mission, map out strategic plans when entering new territory, and making snap decisions when fighting enemy, I could never come up with a conversation starter. It had been a struggle since I was young, though I knew who to blame for that. My parents were strict military people, they didn’t believe that a child needed that nurture in their life as long as they had a routine. Hence why I was in the position I was today, part of the S.T.R.I.K.E team for S.H.I.E.L.D, the one member everyone hated.

As soon as we stepped out of the elevator, Matt spotted other agents he knew, instantly catching up to them. I masked the hurt, following far behind towards the briefing room. We had another big mission coming up, one which was vital to us. If we were successful, we could close this case that had been open for over ten years. Everyone greeted each other in the room, some making an effort with me, others completely blanking me. I didn’t take offence. Instead, I took a seat, flicking through the files handed out to us, already knowing it inside out. There was no social life at home (not that there was much of one for a S.H.I.E.L.D agent anyway), but I always refused the celebratory drink after a mission; I couldn’t risk embarrassing myself, not when I had built my way up through the system.

"Sir your asses down," Rumlow walked in, wearing his usual combat gear like the rest of us,"let's get this over with, we all have the same loathing for paper work."

"Except for (Y/L/N)." someone sniggered, though it was ignored.

Rumlow set up the screen in seconds before beginning. I listened to every word that left his mouth, entranced into the way he spoke. He was just so flawless, a sculpture of a man. His handsome features added to his intimidating stature, and he was able to talk his way out of anything. Training beside him hadn't been too bad either. But like everyone else, I hardly spoke to him, feeling the stuttering and awkward conversation building up in my throat.

"Agent (Y/L/N), can you tell us the intel you found on our killer?" Rumlow called me up front, gesturing for me to take over as he leaned against a wall.

I hated how everyone looked at me. Not just because of the pressure, but I knew how much they hated me when I was in this position, having to listen to the bitch of the group instruct them all; and they were going to hate me even more once I told them what I found.

Holding onto the tablet, I swiped through my research, pulling up a picture of a woman's mugshot on the big screen, causing everyone to be confused.

"So when I was looking on the database for any similar records to our killer, I couldn't find any men. I know that everywhere we have been, the security footage has suggested that it is a man, but upon further inspection, it turns out we were wrong."

Matt interrupted me."You're telling me, that all those agents, including us, were wrong?"

My hands gripped onto the tablet, trying to hide my shaking. Don't back down (Y/N).

"Unfortunately yes. But that's not any of our fault. She has led us in this direction to throw us off the scent."

Matt scoffed, glancing around at the others.

"Just look at the kills," I opened multiple tabs, showing her past work,"I've never seen any men murder people like this. And looking through our database backs that up. I know it may set us back, but I've managed to find quite a few leads on the people that she's worked for."

"All of that work, for nothing." one agent huffed."How could she have got away from us?"

"I have never seen this sort of disguise technology before. And she's a woman, it's easier to not be noticed."

"This is the twenty first century you know, "

"And yet when tasked with finding a killer assassin, you all instantly thought it was a man. I wouldn't be presenting this information if I didn't believe in it."

"Alright, sit down agent." Rumlow nodded, and I practically scurried back to my seat.

My heart was pounding, I had been more scared of that than going into any mission. It was no surprise to me when I caught people glaring, rolling their eyes at me or simply frowning. I had proven that our months of work were a waste of time, we would have to revisit so many sites just to get a basic understanding of this woman. The briefing went on for another hour, discussing how we should change our plans, what the best and fastest course of action would be. Once finished, everyone rushed to leave, though I took my time, not wanting to be stuck in an elevator with them all. As I finally stood, gathering up my folder, Rumlow slowly closed the door.

"You've got some big balls there (Y/L/N)." he chuckled, leaning his elbows on top of a chair.

I stuttered like an idiot."Uh-uh, th-thank you sir?"

"Took a lot of nerve to present that new information, your team wasn't very happy."

I said nothing.

"Give me something to work with agent. You only make it hard on yourself." he wasn't harsh with his tone, but I still found it upsetting.

"It's...I-" I couldn't think of anything to say."It's work."

"It's work, right." he rounded the table to stand in front of me."Just don't think it would hurt to bond with them, at the end of the day, they're your allies, not your enemies."

"Yes sir."

We stood there, staring at each other as if it were a stand off. I felt that I had dissapointed him in the only way I could, by not being a team player. I had never put that as my strongest point, I worked a lot better by myself, but unfortunately, my skills were best used in this team. When he leaned away, I took that as a sign that I was dismissed, quickly leaving.

As I left, I could feel my pulse racing, my throat welling up as if I was about to cry. I loved doing this job, but I found it so hard to make friends, or even be casual with colleagues. All those years growing up in silence, and now it was being used against me. I couldn't let Rumlow down.

As the day went on, the team and I tried to gather as much intel as possible, and all was quiet in the room. Some of them overexaggerating their gestures when flipping through files or typing away. It made me feel more and more small, keeping my head down until this day was over.

"Right, lunch break!" someone called out, making me jump.

They all started to leave, and I heard mumbles of asking me to lunch, though that was followed with disagreement. I followed behind as we piled into the elevator, starting to descend.

"(Y/L/N)," Matt said,"you wanna eat with us today?"

I could see everyone's reflections, no one wanted me there. I opened my mouth to say no, but then I had another idea.

"Yes."

Their expressions changed from annoyance to shock, all exchanging glances. Some chuckled, others hollering and whooping that I was finally joining them. I was still hesitant to go with them, trying to keep up with so many conversations as we made our way to the canteen. They did most of the talking, I was a good listener. It was as if I was in a high school movie, hanging with the popular kids, being allowed to sit at their lunch table.

"So what made you change your mind?" Matt asked as we tucked into our food. Everyone else was involved in other conversations.

"Hm?" I sounded, still having food in my house.

"About coming to lunch with us?"

"Um...I need to be a team player."

"Did boss man say something?"

I looked down at my food.

"You don't have to be scared of him, he can't hear you."

"I...I guess so."

"Are you scared of him?" Matt teased.

"I'm not scared so to speak."

He gasped."You're intimidated, and not because he's the boss!"

I ducked my head."Can you not be so loud?"

He lowered his voice."I've seen the way you look at each other. It's very sexual."

My eyes widened."What?! What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Oh, she swears! And don't worry, I won't say anything to the others."

"Oh my god, I swear nothing is happening."

"But you wish it would."

"Matt."

He laughed under his breath, hiding it from the others."Hey, we don't get to see a lot of other people outside of work, it gets to you."

I carried on eating, thankful that my turtleneck was hiding my blush. I could have easily stopped it there, closed myself off again. But I was turning over a new leaf, I had to bond with my team, Rumlow had said so.

"OK, you want to know the real reason I'm quiet all the time?" I mumbled.

"Yes! Especially since that was probably the longest sentence I've heard from you."

"I grew up as an only child with really strict parents. And when I say strict, I think that Director Fury would be more of a doting father than mine was. So I've only known how to live a military lifestyle, which is why I'm here, obviously. And I guess, with people who are in charge, I feel like I can't dissapointed them. That's why I do so much extra work, not because I'm sucking up to Rumlow like you lot say. If I dissapoint, I get punished."

"Punished?"

"It's so stupid I know. But that's all I did for my parents. Work, work, work until they're happy. And we are one of the best teams within this whole organisation, it's only natural that we have to get good results."

"You out way too much pressure on yourself. You could never do anything wrong. I mean, did Rumlow yell at you for throwing away all of our work this morning?"

I ignored his jab."I guess not."

"Exactly. You know what, I'm starting to like you."

As the end of the day, I headed to the changing rooms to get into my gym clothes, ready for an evening workout. I had thought about lunch and how surprisingly well it went. Just as I was removing my jewellery, I heard two other people enter, thinking nothing of it until I heard my name.

"Did you see (Y/N) earlier?" a girl said, I couldn't recognise the voice.

"Yeah, how weird was it to see her with other people?" her friend replied.

"I actually started believing those rumours about her being a robot."

They giggled. I heard them shut their lockers, footsteps heading towards me. Quickly opening my locker, I used the door to block my face. Luckily they didn't see me, and I only closed it again when I was completely certain they were gone.

Don't let it get to you, not anymore.

Once the coast was clear, I carried my water bottle and towel into the training centre, heading straight towards the treadmills to warm up, when someone called my name.

"Quickly warm up," Rumlow instructed,"I need someone to spar with."

He was by the punching bags, going back to his workout. I stood there, surprised by the demand in his voice. Realising I was just stood there staring, I slowly turned around to get on the treadmill. Beginning the steady jog, I could feel my palms become sweaty, though not from the exercise. Was this a test? Or was he wanting to remind me who I was, put me in my place?

You haven't done anything to piss him off, idiot.

Not wanting to waste his time, I stopped running, the treadmill slowing down beneath my feet. Making my way towards him, I tried to big myself up in my mind, grow my confidence in a matter of steps; it shattered as soon as Rumlow looked at me.

"Come on then." he jabbed at my arm, stepping onto the sparring mat.

I took a deep gulp, almost tiptoing onto the mat. He had his arms up in a defensive stance, and I copied, bracing myself for impact. As we slowly circled, trying to figure out the others tactic. Some feeling in me surged, and I boldly threw the first punch. He easily blocked it, though I was able to get a jab at the stomach. We both tried hitting each other, achieving some as well as blocking. I got braver with every movement, managing to trip him over, though I followed soon after as he pulled me down with him.

We were rolling all over the place, both struggling to take control. I groaned, using my shouting to make my attacks stronger. But this was tiring, Brock was a great fighter, hence why he was in charge of the team. The day had been so emotionally training, and like an idiot, I was letting it get the better of me.

"Alright," Brock chuckled as I managed to gain control, tapping my arm,"that was a good fight."

I didn't ease off at first, wondering if it was a trick. When he stayed still, I slowly climbed off him, only to be flipped onto my back, Brock smirking over me, with a wild look in his eye that was doing things to me.

"Go to dinner with me." he blurted out.

My eyes widened."W-what?"

"You heard me."

"Uh-uh, sir I-"

"Just one date, that's all I'm asking. And before you say anything about work protocol, I say fuck it."

I could feel his grip loosening on me, and once again, I pushed him so he was the one lying down. However, I wasn't pinning him down the way we had been trained; luckily for me, no one else was in the room, and I was able to straddle him, hands resting on his firm chest.

What the fuck (Y/N), you can't just act out your fanatasties in the gym?!

"Pick me up at seven on Saturday. Surprise me." I confidently said, though I felt that I could faint at any moment.

He bit his lip, that seductive motherfucker."Your attitude has changed in a day."

"Do you like it?"

I hadn't meant to sound sexual, I was genuinely asking.

"So far, so good. Hopefully I'll get to see more of this on Saturday."

I stood up keeping a leg either side of his waist, looking down at him."You're very presumptuous. Don't get too confident just yet sir."

Saying nothing more, I walked back over to my water bottle and towel, purposely bending over as I knew he was still watching. I didn't even glanced over my shoulder as I left. But once I was out of sight, I let out the quick, heavy breaths from my mouth, sounding like I was hyper ventilating. Who was that back there? It certainly wasn't me! Where had that come from and where had that confidence been all my life? But the rush, the thrill of teasing him, that was amazing! Knowing that he wanted me, and that I wanted him, but still denying his advances. I had missed out on this my whole life. All I knew was that on Saturday, I wasn't going to hold back any more.

[oh-theatre]

You Can't Force A Fairytale (Chapter 4)

Chapter title: Pain Cuts Deep

A/n:  HI HELLO!! This sucks lol! no seriously im so sorry that this is so bad!! although some stuff was revealed!! also also..whats up with patton? and remus? And all of them! Aaa !! Anyway i hope you enjoy even though its trash and make sure to leave me comments!

Also yes Im keeping Dolion because then I can have... janus ;)

also if this is confusing i understand, so please tell me and ill try and clear it out!

words: 3516

summary: The group is scattered and needs to make a plan soon.

pairings: Eventual logicality, eventual prinxiety, eventual demus, eventual remile (These might change but for now im love them)

warnings: bow and arrow, violence, injuries, magic, swearing, bruises, scars, blood, fighting, stabbing, pain

Ao3 Link  

“Are you alright Patton?” Logan whispers, guiding the horses into a hidden cove of the forest, followed by the rest of the group. The prince swallows, the images couldn't stop running through his mind, staining the memories permanently in his mind. He doesn't understand why it set a quick blaze and a blush to rise in his face. Logan takes his hand, stopping them, his glazed eyes stare curiously.

“Im alright” Patton promises, hopefully the shadows hide away his blush. Logan looks doubtful but nods anyways, the others in tow. Prince Roman helps an unsteady Virgil practically tumble off the horse, a quick shove to a giggling Roman. Prince Remus follows suit with Dolion, though he is much more graceful and regal stepping off the horse. “Follow Logan into the cove, through the hanging leaves.” Patton guides, they follow suit.

“Good luck” Logan gives Patton's hand a gentle squeeze. The prince nods, giving Nork a sweet pat before Logan leads them away. Once the clearing is empty, he takes to the amulet around his neck, his hand enveloping the magical touch.

“As we search for cover in this mossy forest cove, let no one uncover or discover what's hidden in the mangrove” He chants, a sweet spur of magic dances around him, green flecks as they follow his spell. They take a moment to give Patton an entrance, once hes safely inside the dank dwelling they shut the group away from the outside world, protected from magic and tyrants above. He whispers a quick spell watching his hands engulf in safe flames, the light allows him to regroup with the others.

“Is it done?” Logan cautions, Patton nods feeling exhaustion hit him.

The sight was something. The wet stone was not faint of aroma, the moss that encircled the area was refreshing. The horses seemed to enjoy the small yet spacious patches of grass that led out the other side into a hidden pool of water. Remus, regal as always, lied flat on his back snoring away already. The gray stone may present itself as hard yet the prince seemed so cozy. Patton almost wanted to join him.

Logan sat ever so sweet under a shaded area, in the intersection of the cove leading out into the pond. He read his book, a routine while he ran his hands through a sleepy Nork’s mane. The horse sat next to him, almost as if he had forgotten what animal he was and was content to act as a smaller one. Thank god the space let him.

Dolion and Virgil seemed inseparable, they both sat with their feet splashing away in the water, their muddy boots by their side. The pair spoke in hushed whispers, hesitation to trust the characters around them, finding solace in the similarity of their situations. Patton did find his heart tug at him as he watched however, their soft delight at each magical essence this strange world presented was something that never got old and something you just couldn't deny.

Finally Roman, Patton had to admit, the sight was hard to watch. The prince stood against the rock in the corner with a bland look to his face. He watched the prince skip stones across the pond, bored, his crown that typically rested perfectly upon his head now flopped a bit with no sight in mind to fix it. Romans steed, Dracaena, neighed in concern but had no qualms about returning to her important task of chomping away at the grass around her.

“I wonder if she would be more comfortable in her other form?” Patton inquires, catching Romans ear instantly.

“I think the same, I sense she's eager to be on alert in case of danger though” He expresses. Patton nods understanding, though he did miss the vicious, mischievous creature, he understands. “I don't believe we will be staying for long, correct?” Romans body shakes with impatience. His clear want to ride through the open fields with a hunger for victory was clear. Patton could feel the fiery passion that boiled his blood, not that he needed his powers for that. The amulet strung on Romans neck was alight with the amber blaze.

“I'm not sure Ro” He glanced towards the foreigners, their anxieties at bay for now. “There is alot to process and we mustn't put innocents in danger over our own goals” Patton explains, Roman knows he speaks only truths but still his anger was unkempt. “For now though, we are safe and this gives us ample time to come up with a plan...a much needed one” He reminds stringing his arm through Romans. This releases a chuckle from the prince. “Come, for it was not I who led the battle of Sarcane to victory, but you our brave warrior at the front line”

“Well I had assistance” He smiles at the newly appeared dragon that rested upon his shoulder, a quick breath of fire in excitement.

“But of course, much credit to Dracaena” Patton gives the creature a sweet pet, adoring the soft murmur of affection. “Now come before Logan and Remus tear eachother apart”

~~~

“My opinion?” Virgil gasps with a vile sarcasm. “I think you're all insane and i'd like to wake up from this nightmare!” He shouts, ending with a bite and smirk. Should Roman find that defense so pulsing for his heart?

“I do indeed second that” Dolion whispers with a yawn, the cross-legged boy sits sleepily next to Remus. He holds in another sign of his tiredness before settling very lightly onto the prince's shoulder. He hadnt meant to but he simply couldn't keep his focus much longer, and the prince was there. Remus froze of course, terrified to move, he didn't want to wake the boy. And he surely didn't want to call attention to his reddened face.

“Maybe it would be wise for us to rest for the evening,” Patton suggests. Logan huffs shutting his book, the maps and scribbles collected quickly by him. He shakes his head, muttering to himself walking to a secluded corner. “Lo” Patton sighs, he eyes the others asking them to set up the proper conventions for the night before following his quiet friend.

“We dont have time to rest!” He utters, throwing his items away from him, Patton quickly waves his fingers making sure they dont sink into the water. “Thank you” Logan stubbornly acknowledges, watching the prince delticaltyl stack his things next to him. “We must prepare Patton”

“Lo we dont even know what we’re up against” Patton sits beside him, the stars shine through the only opening, reflecting delicately upon the water. “Everything escalated much too quickly” He takes his friends hand, it always eased them both.

“You and I both know that he will be coming soon” Logan reminds, the image of the army marching towards them, led by the figure of whom Logan speaks flashes familiar in Patton's mind.

“Yes but we mustn't allow it to consume our minds as of now” Patton assures “You need rest as much as everyone else, for now we are safe” They hear wild giggles from behind them, turning to see the four enjoying their time. Remus dances kookily around the cover, Roman finishing his meal with delight as he watches Dolion and Virgil quite entertained. “Even in darkness, a light can shine through to guide you” Patton whispers, Logan nods from behind him, he takes the words to heart. “Ill take first night!” Patton announces, receiving no arguments from the group. He goes to stand but feels a tug at his hand.

“Promise me i'll see you in the morning” Logan begs, the soft features catching his eyes. “Come back to me?” He worries, the forest though magical and enchanted was not short of danger. A gentle Patton places his gloved hands on Logan's cheek.

“Always and forever” He swears, Logan nods, the exhaustion now dawning him. “Get some rest Logan, your mind has been at work for much too long”

“Agreed” He yawns, he rolls out his makeshift cloth, a comfy pillow and takes what little warmth he has. Quickly Patton watches him follow into his dreams. The shivering did hurt him just a tad, so when he knew no eyes were watching him, a quick spell he cast.

“On this cold and fateful night, give him warmth, give him light” Patton watches the amber flecks dance before shrouding Logan. He smiles to himself before taking his bow and horse and makes his way to the front.

~~~

“Patton!” He would be lying if he said he hadn't jumped, for the voice, though cheery came at the blackest of moments.  Emile and his graciousness fluttered to where the Prince lay sleepily on his horse, trying his hardest to keep awake. Though what protection could he grant with his bow on the floor and his arrows scattered. He was delighted to see the godfather however.

“Emile, your sorcery” He greets, allowing the fairy to fix him up, feeling the boost of energy boil through him. “How did it go?” Patton questions, adjusting his position.

“I was able to clear my own name of crime and reinstate my position but the royal guard is on the hunt just as suspected” He explains. “They're sending out the cavalry”

“Goodness not Remy!” Patton whispers furiously. Emile nods solemnly. “The King is truly going all out...but why?” Patton wonders “What does he know about these foreigners that we mustn't, and what does my needing to get a suitor hold over the kingdom?” His thoughts pour out of him. Emile shrugs as he fiddles with the flowers around him, watching the echinopsis dance around him. He heals the ones that had not been tended with pleasure before summoning a treat for Nork. “We can't stay here then, when morning befalls us we must travel once more” He sighs

“I will do my best to keep you updated, I must go now my dear prince, but I shall visit soon again” Emile promises, an understanding nod from Patton and the godfather disappears in a dazzling shower of light.

Luckily the night went on without any incidents, Patton scoured the area, took Nork for a calming venture before returning to the hideout as the sun came to fruition. He remained outside, reading through one of his many books he had tucked away, Nork allowed him to sit easy while he grazed the small land.

“Good morning” He heard from behind him. Logan emerged from the dangling leaves, a yawn escaping him. “What, might I inquire, are you perusing?” Logan questions, Patton shows him the novel. “Ah very well, I do adore flowers”

“As do I” Patton agrees, he shuts the book marking his page, stuffing it carefully into his sack. Logan observes the area, his eyes admiring every small inkling and detail that surrounded him. Patton extends his hand, a sweet smile. “Care for a morning ride?” He asks, Logans excitement may have begun with his curiosity for the world but it only grew with Patton's proposal. He takes his hand as he had done many times before and allows Patton to hoist him behind him. The simple buzz Patton experiences as he felt Logans respectful hands wrap their way around his waist and his head rest easy on Patton was something he would simply never ever fail to love.

Scratch that… as Logan laughs timidly while they rush through the saplings of the forest, the love that filled his eyes and the mental notes he saw the prince take, the giggle that escaped as water splashed his face

That was something he would never fail to love

Logan..

Logan was something he would never fail to love

~~~

“I swear to god princey if you don't shut up i'm going to tape your mouth shut” Virgil moans, his head falling into his hands. Roman feels taken aback, the shock of such disrespect and yet the almost...excitement from the nickname was something else.

“For such disrespect the kingdom could have your tongue” He retorts, his face hot with anger but almost wanting to engage.

“And yet here you stand with your tongue” Virgil teases, he hears a faint smoky laugh from Dracaena, she slithers away from a silent Roman nestling into his lap. At first hes frightened, but the soft purring spreads a warmth over him. Roman...well despite feeling mocked...enjoyed the gentle view. He takes a place next to Virgil, watching the young teen flip curiously through some of Logan's journals while keeping a steady pet on the dragon.

“What do you think you're doing!” Speaking of the prince, Logan rushes into the room, fuming with shy anger. “Those are my journals! My property!” A scrambled Patton follows him, a look of anticipation for though rare, Logans outbursts were...unpleasant. He quickly snatches them away from Virgil, a glare towards the black haired boy. “Only I and a select few…” He glances towards Patton, did his defenses fall? “Have access! So stop touching others things!” He demands

“And so with Logans anger boiling, and Virgils own fury at storm the two are at odds, will they be able to ban together for a new threat approaching fast?” Remus spouts, Roman takes his side instantly knowing the pain that would come. “I hate it, I hate it” Remus sputters, the sweat fast approaching. Dolion, who while he enjoyed the princes antics found nothing charming as of yet, was intrigued by the sad honesty of the pain. “With that! The group should begin on their way” He barely manages, tears forming as Roman aides him.

“What does-” But Virgil is quickly cut off by the distant sounds of shouts, determination as each beautiful thing in the forest is stomped by power and raging fury. “Oh”

“Nork!” Patton calls, Logan stuffs his books away before allowing Patton to assist him on the horse. “Come now, we haven't much time” He signals to the others. Roman whispers a quick check to his brother, Remus nods. Though pained, he's ready to flee on his own steed. Unsure, Roman calls to Dracaena. She flies away from Virgil before a mist of shrouded light appears and a midnight horse takes her place.

“Coming?” Roman questions, extending his hand to Virgil. The teen rolls his eyes but joins the prince. “Hold on” He warns, and though his own blush denies him, Virgil grips tight to Roman. He watches as Dolion helps Remus to his own horse.

“Estrella” He whispers sweetly, the horse neighs with affection. This fragile moment tugged at Dolion, he missed his own home. New Orleans seemed like such a distant place, Luna, his cat could still be heard purring. “Up up and away” He jokes, Dolion takes the reins, thanking his mother for the horse riding lessons. He doesn't even mind when Remus collapses on his back, the warmth of the prince was...nice.

“On my signal” Patton heeds, and so one by one they gallop through the woods. The horses follow one another, protecting each other from danger and shielding themselves from the public eye. They reach an opening after what seemed like hours, the rope burning on Dolions hands was almost too much to bear. Remus had healed so they switch positions. It seems the sun was setting which set off a yawn in Virgil. He grew more comfortable on Roman, practically hugging him. Not that the prince minded, he enjoyed their journey. And his mind couldn't stop thinking about ...one particular-

“-Moment!” Virgil huffs “Just give me one moment” He slides off Dracaena, clutching his stomach. The group decides to take a rest near the waterfall, Logan leans against a tree and begins reading. Roman makes sure Dracaena is secured before following Virgil to where he sits by the lake.

“Are you alright?” He questions, sitting next to him.

“I feel...sick” He groans, Roman finds his little puffed features adorable. “It just keeps...making noise” He points to his stomach. Roman fiddles with the glass before pulling something from his satchel.

“You haven't eaten have you?” He shakes a small container holding delectable treats. Virgil scrunches his face in realization. “Here” he opens it, pulling out what seems to be a biscuit. Through his own habit he goes to feed Virgil. Virgil takes the first one, before both take a second to come to reality. “Apologies” He rubs the nape of his neck, Virgil laughs watching crumbs fly out. “Habit I guess”

“Fwo wat?” Virgil swallows his food, taking a handkerchief and wiping away the crumbs that had escaped

“Well when I had to meet suitors I had to charm them.” He explains, I suppose the mindless princesses my father found for me enjoyed being treated like a baby” Virgil snorts, Roman would love to hear that sound more.  “ Oh but thats just a few of them! Ive met so many amazing ladies of royalty, each so smart and strong” he muses

“And yet here you are...alone” Virgil notes, he wasn't going to lie. Roman was the spitting image of every disney prince. He should have been scooped up by now.

“Heh...I suppose the shoe...just hasn't fit yet” He gulps, the truth of his uncertainty was something he had only ever confessed to Patton. He wasn't even sure! And yet even with his doubts...No Roman. Once all of this has calmed, you will return home, a perfect princess will be ready for you and you may rule.

Better that,  than living the torute he watched his brother endure. He takes a peek back at Remus, he sits giggling away with Dolion, the look he gives the foreigner was one he had only seen once before. He did miss Janus, he was a wonderful fencing coach, and always challenged the twins. But no one missed him more than Remus.

Ugh! Roman enough! This is ridiculous. You're being ridiculous. You don't know anything, you've never tried anything.

Ok so maybe he didn't enjoy the entire scene, but...he takes a quick peek at the curious raven haired boy, he enjoyed Virgil.

No Roman...

For the crown

For the kingdom.

He looks to Patton. Follow his example, he tells himself. The prince didn't just have a kingdom on his shoulders, he had the entire land of which they rode across. He had endured more suffering than anyone.

But he laughed away the idea of a suitor, he walked away from it

Roman purses his lips...he did, didn't he?

So why can't you

~~~

“Are you alright?” Logan whispers from his position. Patton coughs coming back from whatever daydream he was engaged in. He tightens his hold on the reins, nodding away his suspicion.

“Yes of course, are you?” He wonders. Logan doubts his answer but shrugs it away.

“I am, I am more than ready to find a resting spot. I simply must show you these new spells, and oh the mus…” He rambles on, Patton listens, he does but suddenly the world goes silent. He looks to Nork but finds scared darkness. He panics trying to find anything familiar until he hears a voice...his own.

Hes watching himself, he watches the scene that had been haunting his mind for days unfold once more.

“No stop” He tries to call out, but the fearful hoarse cry was nothing. His eyes follow as Future Patton races through the castle, fighting his way. He knows what's coming, he doesn't want to see it. Not again, not anymore… “Stop!” he cries, nothing changes, his future self continues on his path. Tears swell in his eyes as he tries to avoid seeing the tender moment but he can't peel away. He gasps in pain relief, preparing to return to his body.

“What a sad sight” He peeks through his tightly closed eyes. What's this? He doesn't remember this. The King had not spoken before. But now he spoke and moved. “He was brave, tougher than I thought” The King expresses, Patton watches himself keep a protective hold on the frozen Logan. “But he just wasn't strong enough”

Logan's figure collapses, Patton wastes no time kneeling beside him. Patton watches himself and Logan share a hush conversation, but his eyes quickly glance towards the towering figure. The King moves silently as he takes his sword. Fear quickly engulfed Patton. The prince wanted to cry out, scream, do anything, but all he could do was watch.

And listen to the ear piercing scream as the sword slashed its way into Logan. It became too much, The Kings dastardly laugh, Pattons desperate sobs, and the fades of Logans demise. Too much ...too much. Patton clutched his head before the world went black and he felt himself hit a grassy meadow. His eyes fluttered only to catch Logan jump off of Nork and rush to his side. He heard mumblings and worries but soon he lost all senses and fell into a deep sleep.

But not a pleasant one.

Not with the images flashing their way through his head.

He had to change it, he had to.

[splendidlyimperfect]

When Natsu’s morning commute gets interrupted by a cute guy helping a turtle cross the road, Natsu thinks it’ll just be a funny story to tell later. But then Sting shows up at Natsu’s café, with his cute accent and sweet smile, and Natsu starts to fall in love a bit. Which wouldn’t be a problem, except that Natsu already loves Gray. Then Natsu introduces them, and Gray starts falling too.

Sting’s always been easily infatuated - with the cute air steward, the scuba instructor, the pretty guy at the grocery store - but he’s never loved anyone other than Rogue. So when Sting meets Natsu and Gray and starts to feel like maybe this time, the infatuation is more than just a crush, he’s not sure what to do, even when Rogue feels the same way.

Chapter Summary: Things with Sting and Rogue are comfortable, but Natsu and Gray both want more.

Chapters (4/?): 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 Pairings: Gray/Natsu, Sting/Rogue, Gray/Natsu/Sting/Rogue Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Aged-Up Character(s), Polyamory, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Crushes, Fluff, Flirting, First Kiss, Relationship Negotiation, Sting and Rogue have accents and Gray and Natsu can’t handle it, Dorks in Love, they’re all such awkward flirts, and they’re so gay for each other

-----

Things came to a head on a chilly evening in November.

“Why is it so goddamn cold?” Sting grumbled, kicking the snow off his boots and shivering as he stepped into Natsu and Gray’s apartment. “Your backwards seasons are ridiculous.”

“You’re the one with backwards seasons,” Natsu teased, reaching out to take Sting and Rogue’s jackets. Sting’s cheeks were pink with cold and his fingers were freezing where they touched Natsu’s. “I can’t picture winter in June.”

“Well,” Rogue said, squeezing Natsu’s arm as he passed into the living room, “it’s never really winter in Greyton. Not like here, anyway.”

Gray appeared in the doorway to the kitchen drying his hands on a dish towel. “You did say you wanted to see snow,” he said, laughing as Sting shook the flakes out of his hair. “You got your wish.”

“It’s pretty to look at,” Sting admitted. “But it’s cold and it’s awful.”

Continue reading on AO3

“Here,” Natsu said, shrugging off his hoodie and handing it to Sting, who took it gratefully. “You really need some better winter clothes. Or are you just planning to keep all of my sweaters instead?”

Sting’s cheeks flushed pink as he zipped up the hoodie and mumbled an incoherent response to the question, then ducked into the kitchen to help Gray with dinner. Something funny twisted in Natsu’s stomach at the sight of Sting in his sweater – as well as the knowledge that Sting had at least two of his other hoodies squirreled away at his and Rogue’s apartment.

“You need help with anything?” Rogue asked, fingers brushing Natsu’s elbow. The touch jolted Natsu out of his reverie but looking up at Rogue didn’t make him feel any less confused. Rogue’s hair had grown out a bit in the last few months and he had it pulled back in a messy French braid with some shorter pieces falling in his face. It looked ridiculously good on him.

Natsu sighed internally. He and Gray had talked a million times about telling Sting and Rogue how they felt, but neither of them could bring themselves to say we like you as more than friends. It seemed too taboo, even though Natsu was nearly a hundred percent certain that they felt the same way.

“Yeah,” Natsu said, holding back a shiver when Rogue’s fingers stayed for a moment too long on his arm. “Let’s go set the table.”

~

Dinner was the same noisy, flirtatious mess as every weekend. Even after only a few months it felt like Sting and Rogue belonged there, filling some sort of empty space in Natsu and Gray’s lives that hadn’t existed before they’d shown up.

“Can you pass the salad, babe?”

Natsu handed over the bowl, realizing belatedly that Sting had been talking to Rogue, not him. There was a brief, awkward pause where the word ‘babe’ hung in the air between them, but it was quickly broken when their fingers brushed, and Sting gave Natsu a bright smile.

“So,” Gray said, pushing his empty plate forward and leaning back in his chair. “What are you guys doing for Christmas?”

Rogue looked at Sting, who shrugged. “We don’t really have plans,” Rogue said. “Back in Greyton we’d have a braai outside in the afternoon – like a big barbeque with the whole neighborhood. Somehow I don’t think that would work out too well here.”

“You’d freeze before you could eat anything,” Sting grumbled, knocking his foot against Natsu’s under the table as he took another bite of salad. “It’s supposed to get even colder in December! It’s unreasonable.”

Natsu laughed, taking a sip of his beer and gently kicking Sting’s shin. “You’re not gonna wanna leave the house for the next couple months, huh?” Sting shook his head and made a face.

“The upside is that he’s very cuddly when it’s cold out,” Rogue teased, and Sting flicked a pea at him. “And apparently hoards Natsu’s sweaters – he wore one to bed last night after complaining about the temperature for almost the entire evening.”

“Shut up,” Sting hissed, cheeks turning even pinker as he poked furiously at his salad. “They’re warm. And they…” He trailed off, refusing to make eye contact with Natsu, who could feel his own cheeks turning red.

“Christmas!” Gray interrupted, voice slightly louder than it needed to be. His face was flushed too, and he was trying his best to hide it behind his wine glass. Natsu suspected it had something to do with the fact that Rogue was sitting across from him with his legs stretched out under the table.

Natsu decided to jump in and save him, if only to avoid the conversation about Sting and his sweaters. “You guys wanna come over here for Christmas?” he asked quickly. “Our families are both out of town this year, so we were just gonna… I dunno, eat pizza and watch all the ‘Die Hard’ movies.”

“So, a typical weekend for us then,” Rogue teased. There was something about the way he said ‘us’ that made Natsu’s stomach do a funny sort of cartwheel.

“Pretty much,” he said around the sensation. “Only difference is that we drink eggnog instead of beer and Gray dresses up Happy in a Santa outfit.”

“Oh, shut up,” Gray grumbled, smacking Natsu’s arm. Then he stood up, grabbing his empty plate and gesturing to everyone else’s. “C’mon, lets clean up and watch a movie.”

~

Cuddling during movie night had become a comfortable routine. Sting liked being in the middle, curled up halfway on Natsu’s lap while Rogue sat behind him. Gray, who preferred to be on the floor in a pile of blankets, sat in front of Sting and Rogue, who would both absently play with his hair. It was warm and comfortable, and Sting looked forward to it every week.

This time it had been his turn to pick, and while ‘Inside Out’ had seemed like a good idea at the time, now that it was over, Sting was definitely regretting it.  

“Babe, are you crying?”

Gray tipped his head back against the couch, looking up at Natsu, who was wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt and shaking his head. Sting, who was curled up comfortably between Natsu and Rogue, was definitely crying and not bothering to hide it.  

“’m not crying,” Natsu insisted as they watched the credits scroll up across the TV.

“Yeah, you are,” Gray said, voice more gentle than teasing.

“Shut up,” Natsu grumbled. “You’re just a heartless asshole.”

Gray fake-gasped, putting his hand over his heart and looking indignant. “I am not heartless,” he insisted, nodding at Rogue. “Look, Rogue’s not crying either.”

Sting sniffed and rubbed at his face, feeling something in his stomach jump as Natsu shifted next to him. They’d ended up holding hands during the movie again – not hiding it, and once again Rogue and Gray hadn’t said anything – but the feel of Natsu’s thumb moving over the back of Sting’s knuckles had almost been enough to distract Sting enough to keep him from crying.

Almost.

“Look,” Natsu said, squeezing Sting’s hand as he sat up a little. “It hurt my heart, okay?”

“Want me to kiss it better?” Sting teased.

As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he could take them back. His cheeks started to burn as Natsu stared at him, mouth slightly open, eyes filled with a confusing mix of things that Sting wasn’t sure he understood. A soft silence fell over the four of them, and the air was so charged with everything they’d never said that Sting felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Yeah,” Natsu whispered eventually. His gaze wavered for a second, flicking down to Gray, then over to Rogue, then slowly moving back up to Sting. “You, uh…”

Natsu’s hand was so warm in Sting’s, fingers drifting slowly across Sting’s palm, and the sensation made Sting’s stomach twist. He could feel Gray leaning against his leg, not moving away, not pushing Sting away, just resting his hand on Sting’s knee and... waiting.

They were all on the edge of something, air crackling with nervous energy as Sting turned his hand and pressed his palm against Natsu’s. It reminded Sting of going cliff-jumping for the first time – standing at the edge, toes pressed into the rock, staring down at the drop to the water and feeling like the world had narrowed down to just that spot, fifty feet below.

Rogue squeezed Sting’s hip, then nudged him gently, and Sting finally gave in, leaning forward and closing the distance until he and Natsu were nearly nose-to-nose.

He could feel Natsu’s breath, hot on his cheek, and when Sting brushed his nose against Natsu’s, Natsu let out a soft, contented sound. Sting’s hand slowly travelled up Natsu’s arm, fingers drawing gentle patterns and brushing through the curls of hair at the base of Natsu’s neck.

A step forward. A deep breath. Eyes closed. Jump.

Sting brushed their lips together and it was like plunging into the water – sharp and bright and exhilarating. The tension in the room broke, spilling into a heady energy that drew out quiet gasps and gentle touches. All the confusion and frustration and tension of the past few months melted away, and all Sting could think about was the way that Natsu made soft noises into his mouth, and the feel of Natsu’s fingers in his hair.

And then Sting surfaced, breaking back into the sensation of Gray’s body against his leg and Rogue’s fingers on his lower back, and the quiet dark of the living room.

He pulled back slowly, breathing shakily and pressing his forehead to Natsu’s, trying his best to keep the words inside because nothing he could say would—

“Sting.” Gray’s voice was so, so gentle, and Sting squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath before pulling away from Natsu and looking down at dark eyes, dark skin, dark lashes. Sting wasn’t sure what he’d expected to see there – anger, maybe, or confusion, or maybe grief – but it certainly wasn’t the fond smile Gray was wearing.

“Wh... I...”

“C’mere,” Gray said, reaching up and brushing his fingers across Sting’s cheek. Sting felt his breath catch in his throat again, and he couldn’t say no to the gentle touch, so he leaned down and let Gray kiss him.

Gray tasted like the fuzzy peaches he’d been eating, and when he ran his tongue across Sting’s lip, Sting felt something coil in his stomach, hot and wanting. He exhaled, moving his hand to rest on Gray’s neck, brushing lightly across Gray’s throat as their tongues slid together and Gray let out a soft sigh.

Sting felt Rogue shift behind him, nudging him gently forward, and Sting broke apart from the kiss long enough to slide down to the floor onto Gray’s lap. Gray shifted until Sting’s knees were on either side of his hips, then brought both hands up to cup Sting’s face, gazing at him with wide eyes.

“Are you okay?” Gray asked softly. Sting looked up to see Natsu’s fingers tangled in Rogue’s hair and Rogue’s hand on Natsu’s hip as they kissed each other, and he swallowed heavily.

“Yeah,” he said, letting out a quiet breath and closing his eyes as Gray tucked his hair behind his ears. Soft lips pressed to Sting’s throat and he tipped his head back, breath hitching as Gray’s fingers trailed down his spine and rested on his hips. Sting dragged his fingers through Gray’s hair as Gray continued to kiss his neck, tugging Sting closer to him until they were chest-to-chest and Sting could feel Gray’s heart thundering against his.

“We should... talk...” Natsu murmured between kisses, and Sting opened his eyes to watch Rogue bite down gently on Natsu’s lower lip. Natsu made a sound that was halfway between a sigh and a moan, and Sting echoed it as Gray’s teeth scraped gently over his throat.

“You wanna... nnnn... stop?” Rogue asked softly, pulling back for a second and glancing over at Sting. Natsu shook his head, turning to watch Gray run his hand up under Sting’s shirt.

“No,” Natsu said, reaching out for Sting. Sting grabbed Natsu’s hand, squeezing tightly, and Natsu tugged on Rogue’s shirt, pulling him down until they were sitting on the floor next to Sting and Gray. “I just wanna make sure we’re all on the same page here.”

“I’ve wanted this since we met,” Sting admitted, heart stuttering at the admission and the look of adoration on Natsu’s face. “Both of you, and I—we’ve talked about it a lot and it’s… I don’t know if it’s weird, or—”

“Hey.” Gray’s thumbs rubbed gentle circles across Sting’s hips as he tipped his head back and caught Sting’s gaze. “Us, too.”

“Not just the kissing, though,” Natsu said quickly, leaning into Rogue’s fingers that combed through his hair. “It’s not just this. You’re both…” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely in the air, and Sting knew exactly what he meant.

“You’re important to us, too,” Rogue said softly, filling in the words that Natsu couldn’t find. “We want…”

“Yeah,” Natsu said softly, reaching out and touching Sting’s cheek. “Us, too.” Then he pulled Sting in for a kiss again, running his other hand down Gray’s back. Sting could feel Rogue move behind him to kiss Gray, and he shifted off Gray’s lap so Rogue could take over instead.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” Natsu murmured, running his fingers through Sting’s hair and kissing his cheek before pushing him gently down to the floor. The carpet was soft and Sting dragged his fingers through it as Natsu leaned over him, air falling around him and tickling Sting’s cheeks. Natsu’s eyes searched Sting’s face, dark and curious as he ran his thumb over Sting’s cheek.

“Promise this isn’t just…” Sting struggled to focus on the words – he could hear Rogue making quiet, contented sounds as Gray pulled him closer, and Natsu’s fingers left sparks trailing across his skin.

“It’s more than that,” Natsu said, leaning down and brushing his lips against Sting’s. “Not just this, but... I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Sting brought his hands up to Natsu’s waist, slipping his hands under Natsu’s shirt and tracing a pattern over Natsu’s hips. Natsu closed his eyes and exhaled shakily, pressing his forehead to Sting’s.

Sting ran his hands up Natsu’s back, nudging him down gently as he pulled him in for a kiss. Natsu braced himself on one arm, bringing his other hand to brush through Sting’s hair as he ran his tongue across Sting’s bottom lip.

A soft sigh from next to them drew Sting’s attention and he looked over to see that Gray and Rogue had switched positions – Rogue against the couch with Gray in his lap – and Gray’s shirt was on the floor. His head was tipped back and Sting could see Rogue kissing his neck as he ran his fingertips down Gray’s back.

“Wow,” Sting said softly, fingers stilling on Natsu’s skin as he watched Rogue bring a hand up to Gray’s hair and tug on it gently. Gray made a sound that was almost a whimper, following eagerly when Rogue nudged him onto his back next to Sting.

“Hey, baby,” Rogue said to Sting as he straddled Gray’s hips and ran his fingers across Gray’s stomach. Sting hummed as Rogue brushed his other hand across Natsu’s back, then leaned down and kissed Sting deeply. The familiar feel of Rogue’s lips on his was grounding, and Sting touched his cheek for a second before reaching out and grabbing Gray’s hand.

“You’re both amazing,” Natsu murmured as Rogue pulled back from Sting to kiss him instead. “Gods, I could do this forever.”

“Good,” Rogue said, smiling against Natsu’s lips before looking back down at Gray and running a hand up his chest. “Because we have nowhere else to be, and all the time in the world.”

[thdorkmagnet]

Movie Night

Just a quick fluffy Starco idea I had for Valentine’s Day, taking place in my “Light of the Sun and Stars” universe. This is also kinda a prequal to this. Hope you enjoy!

“Is it ready?!” a very excited voice squeaked from inside Star's room, followed by an infectious giggle.

“Hold on, Marco, it's still booting up,” came the joyful reply, as Star Butterfly watched her mirror screen slowly turning on, a loading bar currently the one thing occupying the bright screen. She held up the small remote that was supposed to somehow connect to her mirror and allow her to surf through the Mirror webs options from a short distance away. Star had her doubts about this though, sure she had heard rumors about humans being able to do this back on Earth but that was just one of those myths, like the superstitious Bigfoot... or indoor plumbing. Still, when Ferguson had personally given her one of Pixtopia's patented new technology to test out, she hadn't said no... though that was partially because Marco had snatched it out of the chubby king's hand faster than lightening, examining the device with his typical childlike wonder. So yeah, long story short, she had accepted Ferguson's gift without a word, anything to make her boyfriend happy.

And now was the perfect time to test the device out, the best night of the entire week: date night! Or “Friendship Thursdays” as the two sometimes called it. Regardless, Star was glad they had decided to form a regular routine of spending time together, life could get so hectic sometimes with her new commission up and going but knowing she had this to look forward to every week, kept her going and Star was sure Marco felt that way, too.

This week, the two had decided to just spend a quiet evening in Star's room, marathoning a bunch of movies and just enjoying some time alone, just the two of them. And everything was already prepared, snacks were made by Marco (Star was impressed, he was getting really good at cooking), the two were in their fluffiest and most comfortable pajamas they owned (Star in her pink bunny onesie and Marco in matching blue dog onesie), and they had even made a small pile of blankets and pillows, ready for the two to sink into and lose themselves to its warm embrace. That was if Star could ever get this stupid remote to work right!

She frowned, staring at the blinking red light on the device in confusion, turning to Marco (and ignoring how absolutely adorable he looked in his pjs) as she asked, “Did Ferguson say it's on when the light is blue or red?”

Marco shrugged. “He didn't say either, actually,” the boy replied thoughtfully. “Here let me look it up,” he added, before pulling out the small slip of paper Ferguson had given them, which was apparently supposed to be their instructions but Marco was having trouble deciphering the multiple diagrams that coated the paper, cocking his head to the side as he tried to read the tiny print on the sheet. “Um, I think if it turns blue your connected.”

Both teens eyes switched to the remote that was still brightly flashing red and the girl let out a frustrated groan. “Ugh, stupid remote! Why won't you work?!” She then slammed it down on her desk, crossing her arms in frustration before saying to the boy, “Let's just try something else, okay? This things clearly just a piece of junk.”

But that was when the remote miraculously decided to light up blue and the mirror screen's image switched to that of a selection screen, waiting for their input. The two turned back to the remote in both shock and awe, the two leaning closer and closer to it until their eyes were level with the desk. “It worked,” Marco whispered.

“Huh, how about that?” Star said still in slight disbelief, before locking eyes with Marco.

The boy just shrugged again. “Guess it just needed a little force?”

“Well whatever happened, it's working now,” Star said, picking the remote up off the desk, waving it around in her hands while saying dramatically, “So let date night officially begin!”

“Yeah!” Marco screamed, before immediately running over and plopping down onto the soft pile of cushions, his body looking small amidst the depths of fluff he was currently drowning in and Star couldn't help but gush over how cute her boyfriend looked in that moment. She quickly joined him, the couple's arms touching as they leaned in close to one another, soaking in the other's presence. “Okay, so what are we watching first?” Marco asked giddily, his eyes shining as they stared over at the magic mirror.

Star stared at her bestie for a moment in silence, taking in his joy and enthusiasm before he eventually turned to her with a look of surprise on his face. “Star?” he asked, wondering why she had frozen up like that. “Is everything okay?”

Star shook her head, giving him a loving smile which made her hearts glow a little bit brighter. “Yeah, I was just thinking that you should decide what we watch,” she explained before holding the remote out for him to take.

The boy's eyes widened, staring down at the remote with hesitation and awe, acting as if she was bestowing some ancient relic or great power onto him, instead of just some device that made searching through her magic mirror possible. He looked up at her and then back to the remote and then back to her, as if making sure it was alright. “Really?” he finally breathed out, his eyes shimmering like Star's namesake.

The girl nodded, holding in her giggle. “Of course, Marco,” she said flirtingly. “I trust you.”

That caused the boy to blush beat red and grin ear to ear, as he finally accepted the small device, his eyes examining the smooth surface in wonderment. Star just watched his every movement in fascination and love, finding her Marco's every action infinitely more entertaining than any movie. Finally, though the boy snapped to his sense, as he actually trying to figure out how to work this strange, new device, squinting in intense concentration, determined not to mess up his task. Luckily, these buttons were labeled which made it easy to figure out, the boy (fairly) confidently pressing buttons on the remote, his eyes on the screen as he scrolled through their list of options.

Okay, what to watch? He thought to himself, his eyes never leaving the screen as he read the titles of the many movies there. But the sheer number of names quickly overwhelmed him and he decided to switch instead to list of movie genres to help make it easier. Let's see... dramas? No pass. Animal movies? No way, the last one of those he had watched had left him in tears for weeks after the dog died at the end. Horror? Marco shuddered. Definitely no! Action? The boy paused, before clicking on this file, curious to see if they had what he was looking for. And after less than a minute of scrolling the boy's eyes lit up with joy as he spotted a whole list of Mackie Hand movies. He had seen one of two of them before with the girls and had quickly fallen in love with these movies. They were incredible and action-packed and just everything he ever wanted out of a movie! And now there were so many to choose from. “How about one of these?” he asked his girlfriend, hoping she would approve of his pick.

Star turned her attention onto the screen, giving it a quizzical look. “'Hand to Hand', 'The Spy Who Punched Me', 'Talk to the Hand',” she read, before turning to her boyfriend with a raised brow. “What are all of these?”

“They're Mackie Hand movies,” Marco explained. But seeing her look of confusion, quickly added, “Y'know Star, the super cool Earth fighter from that one movie we watched where he punched a shark out of the water-”

“Ahhh,” Star said, nodding her head now. “Right, almost forgot about that.” She gave her boyfriend a loving smile as she said, “Well I'm up for whatever you want.”

Marco grinned goofily, before selecting the first movie on the list, placing the remote to his side  before settling down closer to Star, the two cuddling close as the opening scene of the movie started up, their cheekmarks glowing bright with both anticipation and joy at just being able to spend time together.

…

A little while later, the two were snacking on popcorn as they watched Mackie Hand quickly defending himself from thirty angry thugs, the karate master making quick work of his opponents without even breaking a sweat. “Wow, he's so amazing,” Marco muttered in awe, snuggling a little bit closer to Star, his head now resting on her shoulder and her arm wrapped around his waist.

“Yeah, this is pretty good,” Star agreed, surprised by how much she was enjoying herself. I mean, sure spending time with Marco was always a plus but the movie was actually surprisingly entertaining in its own right, finding it pretty exciting as the main character beat down hordes of opponents with nothing but his bare fists. It was a bit cheesy but it kinda gave it a very unique style that made it a fun watch.

“You will never defeat me, Mackie Hand!” the one-dimensional villain of this movie said, pointing an accusing finger at the title character. “I will soon have the power crystal and will turn the whole world into a new ice age!”  He then laughed evilly as cheesy, movie villains tended to do but Mackie Hand didn't even flinch before saying triumphantly, “Not today, Ice King!” The hero then jumped at his opponent, shouting at the top of his lungs, “Tiiiigggger Kick!” before smashing his foot hard into his enemies gut, the man falling back, gasping for breath and clutching his stomach.

“Ugh, you. Have. Defeated. Me.” the man said before falling unconscious, Mackie Hand now standing triumphantly over him.

“Looks like I just put your plans, on ice,” Mackie Hand said, causing Marco to burst out into laughter. Then the credits began scrolling onto the screen and the young couple shared a look, Marco asking, “So next one?”

“Go for it.”

…

“Yeah, get 'em Mackie!” Star screamed, pumping her fists into the air as she watched the action movie hero, deep in a brawl with a highly trained ninja assassin, narrowly dodging the swinging katana in the fiend's hands.

“Take him down!” Marco cheered alongside his girlfriend, equally as excited by the fight as his blond bestie. But the two gasped as they saw the villain of this movie holding Mackie Hand's love interest over the edge of the building, the woman releasing a loud scream and fighting to escape the roped bound around her. “Oh no Maria!” the two screamed as one, clutching onto each other with fear.

“Oh no Maria, my love!” Mackie Hand exclaimed.

“Give up now, Hand,” the villain sneered. “Or your love dies!”

“No, I will never surrender to the likes of you!” Mackie screamed, before leaping forward and swiftly knocking his opponent out before jumping off the building and catching the woman out of mid-air, landing gracefully landing on the ground with her in his arms.

The two teens cheered, hugging each other tight as they watched Mackie Hand making out with the love of his life. “Awww,” the two cooed as one, their cheeks squished up against one another.

…

Marco was now almost in Star's lap, the girl's arms wrapped around him, as he watched in fear as his hero stood in front of an alleyway, where a group of ninja watched him, just out of sight. All of them held a pair of ninja stars ready to be rid of their opponent before he even knew what was coming. “Don't do it, Mackie,” Marco whispered, his body shaking in fear. “It's a trap.”

Star just smiled at her boyfriend's cuteness but kept her eyes on the screen. The man slowly began walking down the alley and Marco's shaking grew worse, his eyes in capable of growing any wider.

That was when a pair of ninja jumped out of the shadows out of nowhere, flying toward Mackie Hand, swords raised in strike, and Marco screamed, jumping in surprise as he was now fully in Star's lap, his arms wrapped around her neck and his legs tucked up to his chest.

Star tried to hold back her giggle at the boy's adorable reaction but failed to, laughing to herself as she held the boy in a tight, comforting embrace, Marco's eyes never leaving the screen as he watched Mackie Hand make quick work of his opponents.

…

“Come on! Come on!” Marco screamed, leaning forward in anticipation as he watched his favorite character of all time trying and failing to fight off his opponent, nothing working at all to stop him not even his famous 'Tiger Kick' capable of breaking through his enemie's massive armor. He was in a rough spot, probably the roughest he had ever been in and Marco couldn't help but bit his lip in fear that his hero wasn't going to make it through. Star was busy eating the remains of their popcorn, her eyes shimmering with intrigue but otherwise staying pretty calm. After all, she doubted they would kill off Mackie Hand, it just didn't seem likely.

Finally in one last desperate attack, Mackie Hand charged forward with a loud yell, drawing his fist back before slamming it hard into his opponent the guy going flying backward, before the screen was consumed by a massive explosion, the karate master standing in a dramatic pose as the bright flash of flames rained down around him. Marco screamed and flew to his feet, knocking Star's popcorn over in his haste and sending it flying. But Star didn't notice nor care, laughing her head off as her bestie began cheering and jumping around the room, doing little fist pumps and imitating the action hero with his own weak little punches. “Aw, man that was so awesome! Mackie Hand is the best!”

“Hang on, Marco, there's still more,” the girl managed to choke out around fists of laughter and the boy gasped before falling back onto the pile of cushions, his eyes already shimmering with joy and his cheek marks spinning with excitement. “Play it, play it!” he screamed.

And Star did just that.

…

The sun was beginning to rise on Mewni, signaling a new day, as the sleepy Mewmans slowly began to awaken and go about their day. Jackie and Janna walked side by side through the hallway, heading toward Star's room, as the skater asked her friend , “So how do you think date night went?”

“Well considering all the screaming and cheering I could hear from my room, I would say pretty well,” the creepy teen replied.

Jackie rolled her eyes. “You could not hear if from our room. You just snuck out and listened in again, didn't you?” the skater asked accusingly.

Janna shrugged, not denying it. “Maybe,” was all she replied, before adding, “But they were pretty loud.”

“What do you think they were watching?” Jackie asked curiously.

“I don't know, let's ask them,” Janna said, the two now at their friends door. They slowly cracked it open, sticking their heads inside, taking in the scene before them. The magic mirror was still on, a scene of some muscular guy punching people playing on the screen. And sprawled out on a pile of pillows and blankets were Star and Marco, the two curled up around each other in a comfortable and protective embrace, cuddling each other with looks of pure joy on their faces.

Jackie and Janna smiled and shared a look, before closing the door, leaving the two alone to finish the rest of their date in peace.

[winterisakillerwrites]

Rumor Has It...

Title: Rumor Has It…

One Shot: 1/1

Character: Tom Hiddleston/Cath Richardson (OFC)

Genre: fluff

Rating: All ages

Summary: With Betrayal a success in both London and New York, rumors of  Tony award nominations spread. Tom Hiddleston, while flattered, refuses to let himself be led by it. But when the day the nominations are set to be announced arrives, Tom finds himself drawn into the tantalizing idea of ‘what if’ and with his girlfriend of a year by his side, waits with bated breath to see if rumor turns into fact.

Authors Notes/Warnings: I received the ask below towards the end of last month and at first thought of tackling this with Tom and Rosie but the more I thought about the idea the more I realized it fit so perfectly with Tom and my newest OFC, Cath (whom you will be officially meeting in ‘Get Better’ a sequel to my three part story ‘Brave Face’ which will start posting on August 1st). So this story takes place after the events of Get Better and while I feel odd about technically showing my hand with this, I love the story this ask brought about and I hope you enjoy it to.  Thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff for letting me continually throw ideas off and at you. I still can’t fathom why you put up with it, but I am eternally grateful you do.

Tom had woken far earlier than he’d meant to that morning and from a sleep that hadn’t been as restful as he’d hoped. Filming had gone much later than intended the night before and he’d finally stumbled into bed at quarter past one in the morning. A glance at the clock on the bedside table had told him it was just pushing eight. He groaned and rolled back over onto his stomach, willing sleep to claim him once more. But a half an hour of tossing and turning proved that notion fruitless.

He’d pushed himself out of bed and padded down the stairs, Bobby close on his heels. The spaniel weaved excitedly around his legs as Tom wandered into the kitchen. “Okay, okay,” he yawned, heading towards the back garden door. “Go do your business and I’ll have your breakfast ready when you’re done.” Bobby sprinted out into the back garden, yipping at the birds and squirrels. Tom poured kibble into the porcelain dog bowl and set about making himself a cup of coffee. Ten minutes later Bobby scrambled back in the opened door and attacked his meal with gusto. Tom simply shook his head and sipped his steaming mug of coffee.

Coffee finished Tom found himself climbing the stairs once more and heading back into the bedroom. He should start getting himself ready for the day, he had a few hours left to kill before Cath would arrive for their weekly lunch date. It was nice, he’d found, having a simple routine in place. It gave him something to look forward to, a reminder of how they’d started. And any other day he’d be whistling as he picked up his clothing, looking forward to a few hours with the woman who’d come to mean the world to him. But there was a quiet layer of unease floating over him. Must be the lack of sleep, he reasoned with himself as he paced before the closet door. Though if he were being honest, he’d been feeling off the past week. He stopped as a realization hit him. The nominations come out today.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” he muttered to himself. He needed to get out of the house and try to clear his mind. He took a deep breath, nodding to himself before tossing on his running gear, grabbing Bobby’s lead, and taking them both on a much needed run. Bobby had been gloriously excited at the prospect, jumping around Tom’s feet as they made their way out the front door, nearly causing his master to trip several times before he was able to right himself, a string of curses echoing off the walls of the main hall. Wouldn’t that be hysterical, death by excited dog? Tom shook his head and pulled the door closed behind them both.

Headphones in, Tom lead them both down the relatively empty sidewalks of his neighborhood. It was late enough that the morning rush had all but cleared, which Tom had been grateful for. In his current state he was quite likely to run into a hapless commuter that found their way into his path.

He was being utterly ridiculous and he’d known it; letting his nerves get the better of him because of this, the chance that he might have just the slightest chance of actually getting a nomination. There was nothing set in stone, simply rumor and word of mouth but god if it were true? He couldn’t seem to wrap his head around it. He was frankly afraid to think it for fear of jinxing the matter, as stupid and silly as the notion was.

When he’d taken the role of Robert in Betrayal nearly a year past, he had looked forward to the challenge of the role; to playing a man of dubious morals caught in a situation that effected so many lives not just his own. He’d been thrilled with the idea of a limited run, of being able to be back on stage and giving it his all night after night. Of being able to sleep in his own bed. The show’s initial success had been an unexpected, but deeply longed for, delight. They had always hoped the show would do well, but life in the West End was tricky and audiences could be fickle at the best of times. Many a great show had utterly failed to take off and there had been every chance that Betrayal could have been one of them.

Getting to work with Zawe and Charlie had been a dream. They were just as engaged and dedicated as he was; he’d known Charlie for years and had always wanted the chance to work with him. Zawe had been great fun to work with during both the Pinter celebration and the Tolstoy vs Dickens battle. They were both magnificent in the craft and they’d been wonderful to play off of. Despite the show’s heavy nature, and his own personal experiences with the subject matter, Tom could honestly say the initial three month run had been some of the most fun he’d had in years.

And then the call had come, asking if he would be interesting in reviving his role alongside Charlie and Zawe, this time in New York and on Broadway. It was surreal, almost like a dream, and he had hardly believed it at first. His agent had needed to explain it, twice, before he’d actually been able to comprehend just what was being offered let alone agree. Cath had been the first person he called, knowing without a doubt that she would understand both his joy and his fear. And she had been ecstatic, beaming with pride for both him and for the production that she’d played a small role herself in bringing to life.

He’d ramble on to her about his excitement and his worry. He talked about how absolutely elated he was to get the chance to work on Broadway, how he couldn’t believe they had done so well as to warrant such a thing, his fear that the show might not translate as well with American audiences, and his very real worry that four plus months apart would do them more harm than good especially when what they had was so new. And Cath, to her credit, had let him do so, offering him her quiet support and encouragement. He was talented, they all were; this was a wonderful opportunity regardless of how it panned out in the end and, most of all, this was a part of his job, she understood that and she trusted him. Her faith in him had warmed his heart in ways he couldn’t quite put to words.

And the show had done well. Far better than he had dared to dream it would. Audiences and critics alike seemed taken with the production. He’d been positively giddy opening night; the show had gone off without a hitch, they had all been completely on point, and, best of all, Cath had surprised him by flying in. She hadn’t told him she was coming, and with her work picking up back home in London, he’d not expected her to be able to get away especially not this early on. But there she had been in the front row, beaming with pride and Tom had barely been able to contain his excitement when he’d caught sight of her.

He’d pulled her into his arms when he’d finally been able to find her backstage, kissing her soundly, not caring who saw them. While they had kept their relationship relatively quiet, Tom had no intention of hiding her or what she meant to him. They’d gone out to celebrate; joining his cast mates for drinks before making excuses and heading off to take in a late dinner. She only had that night; her flight back to Heathrow had been scheduled for the next afternoon, her latest production couldn’t spare her for more than a day and a night. So it was with reluctance, late the next morning, that he’d seen her to the cab that would whisk her to the airport and from there back to London.

Tom had been exhausted by the end of the run; physically drained and more than ready to head home, but so very grateful for the chance he’d been given. He’d have a few weeks grace once there before pre-production was set to begin on the Loki series and he’d been very much looking forward to spending time with friends and family. To insulating himself in the people who mattered and forgetting the outside world for as long as he was able.

When the buzz started about potential awards surrounding the New York run of Betrayal, Tom had paid them little mind. Such talk was typical and usually didn’t add up to anything in the long run. Especially as early on as the initial talk had been. But the talk kept happening and slowly Tom found himself thinking about the possibility with more frequency and more definition. It would be frankly amazing to get such recognition, a dream, but he had learned better than to take it as granted; he’d seen and experienced far too much in his career so far to ever do such a thing.

Cath had been his voice of reason through it all and had done her utmost best to keep him focused on the present, though he knew she was just as anxious as he was to see if it would actually happen. Much of his time had been spent on set, working with the various directors and writers to make the most of his next foray as the God of Mischief. Filming in and around London had been a godsend, though there had always been the distinct possibility of location shooting if needed for later episodes.

Being close to home was wonderful and he knew he was spoiled by it. He’d made the effort to spend time with the friends he normally wouldn’t be able to see for months if not years at a time. He’d also spent as much time as he could with Cath; they’d taken to walks around the park with Bobby followed by dinner whenever they could. And Tuesday afternoons meeting for lunch, a habit they’d carried over from start of their relationship; when they’d cautiously extended the branch of friendship while dancing around the fact there was so much more between them. Things with Cath had taken to moving at a much slower rate than he’d done in previous relationships, cautious and steady, and for that he was exceedingly grateful. Tom was taking his time with Cath, wanting to make things work, needing to do it right this time. He’d gone through too much to risk repeating any of his past mistakes. Not when this time he thought that maybe, just maybe, he’d found the right person.

Tom was a sweating but slightly calmer mess by the time he and Bobby had made it back home at quarter past eleven. He’d let Bobby loose once he’d closed the front door then taken the stairs two at a time, shedding his running clothes as he went. He rushed a shower, knowing Cath was due to arrive shortly. Dressed in dark jeans and a clean black t-shirt, he padded back downstairs and worked to throw together the lunch he’d planned. He’d been ambitious the day before, spending half of his free morning roasting a chicken and preparing various vegetables, all then combined into what he’d hoped were passable pot pies. All he’d left to do was pop them into the oven and hope for the best.

As the baked, Tom busied himself tossing together a quick salad and dodging Bobby’s questing nose; the spaniel lived for Tom dropping bits of food and was always on guard for potential yummy surprises. By the time the buzzer on the front gate had gone off, announcing Cath’s arrival, Tom had the table in the dining room set and Bobby shut firmly in the back garden, mainly to save Cath from his frenzied excitement at her arrival. Tom’s nerves had come back in full swing as he buzzed her in and made his way to the front door.

Cath greeted him with a quick kiss before pulling back and studying his face. “Whatever happens, you’ve done remarkably well and I am proud of you.” She reached up and brushed an errant curl behind his ear.

A broad grin broke across his features at both her words and her touch. “How is it you always know what to say?” Tom queried with a soft laugh, as he ushered her inside.

She shrugged out of her jacket, hanging it on the coatrack by the door, and rested her bag in its usual place on the hallway table. “Years of practice,” she joked. “And listening to the drivel my brother has said. Apparently his choice of profession has rubbed off on me in ways.”

Tom smiled at her before pulling her tightly against him and kissing the top of her head. He loved the way she fit so perfectly against him; her head coming to the middle his chest. He couldn’t adequately count the numbers of times he’d held her like this and just how much such a simple thing had come to mean.

“So where is that delightful dog of yours?” Cath murmured into his chest before pulling back and glancing around the hall. Usually by this point Bobby would be barking at their heels demanding his own special greeting from the woman in Tom’s arms.

Tom laughed in earnest at her actions and her words. “I see how it is now. You only like me for my dog.” Cath shrugged, smiling up at him, and they both broke into another round of laughter. “Bobby’s out back,” he told her once they’d calmed. “He’s been particularly underfoot the past few days. Driving me around the bend.”

“Poor baby.” She leaned up and kissed him lightly. “I’ll just go pop out and say hello shall I?” She pulled out of Tom’s embrace and pattered down the hallway towards the back garden door.

He shook his head and followed quickly behind muttering, “It’s always the bloody dog.”

Once Bobby had his ears firmly scratched and had given Cath his requisite excited kisses, the two of them made their way back inside with Bobby at their heels. Tom had made a valiant attempt to send the spaniel back but Cath had quickly stepped in, pleading his case, and Tom acquiesced with only a small amount of reluctance. Bobby trotted alongside his champion, looking back at Tom with what he could only described as a triumphant grin.

Bobby had taken his place, standing guard between Tom and Cath as they settled in the dining room, ever watchful for any dropped morsel. Tom pretended not to notice Cath slipping Bobby a piece of chicken and she offered him the same curtesy when he’d done the same ten minutes later much to the spaniel’s delight. They chatted amicably as they ate about their comings and goings during the past week; Cath had recently started working a new production in the West End and therefore had endless stories to share, most of which had Tom in hysterics. He, in turn, talked about his filming and about the next few projects he’d been tossing around. A few in and around London and a few farther abroad.

Tom had just stood, preparing to pop into the kitchen to grab the pudding he’d readied the night before when he felt his mobile vibrate in his pocket. He froze, causing Cath to stare up at him in momentary confusion. “Tom?”

He shook himself out of his head and pulled the phone from his pocket. His eyes widened as he took in the text from his agent that lit up his screen. ‘Congrats, Tom! Knew you would get it.’ Followed by a screen capture. ‘2020 Tony Nominees for Best Performance by an Actor in a Leading Role in a Play: Tom Hiddleston for Betrayal’.

“Oh…Oh my god.”

Tom dropped back into his seat with soft thud, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry; could barely think.

Concern flashed in Cath’s green eyes and she stood quickly, coming to stand beside him. “Tom? Tom what is it?”

Wordlessly he held out his mobile towards Cath, his hand shaking. She took it was a steady hand and read it silently to herself. He watched as her eyes widened and her mouth popped open in a silent ‘o’ of surprise. “Oh my god.” She dropped the phone onto the table, mouth splitting into a massive grin, as she turned to face him. “Oh. My. God! Tom, this is fantastic!”

“I just…I…How…” he spluttered, failing completely at trying to find words to express himself. “This is real right?” He raised his eyes towards hers, a pleading look in them. “This isn’t some god awful prank?” He felt stupid even voicing such a thought but couldn’t seem to help himself.

Cath shook her head, beaming at him. “No, it’s not. Tom you got the nomination. This is…I am so incredibly proud of you.” She threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly to her small frame. After a few moments he wrapped his own arms around her, returning her embrace.

“I can’t believe it. I mean, I’d hoped…because you always hope, right? I just never…” Tom trailed off, laughing softly. Beside them on the table, his mobile had begun to vibrate away. He pulled back enough to steal a quick glance at it; far too many texts to count flashed across the brightly lit screen.

“Quite the popular fellow there, Thomas,” Cath quipped, leaning in to place a quick kiss on the tip of his nose.

Tom chuckled and pulled her firmly into his lap, pulling an unexpected whoop of surprise from her lips. “Occupational hazard, my dear.”

Cath laughed and swatted him lightly on the chest. He rubbed the spot and murmured a soft oath in protest which earned him a quirked eyebrow. “Watch it.”

He leaned in and kissed her firmly. “Never.”

“Typical,” Cath breathed with a sigh, “man earns himself a Tony nomination and it goes straight to his head.”

Tom dropped his head back and let out a long, loud laugh.

[casper-writes-stuff]

Fallen

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20046148/chapters/47471281

Summary: Patton has Roman and he has Dolion. That's about it though, in the friendship department. Not a big deal though, that's all he really needs! Who cares if he gets picked on for his overly cheerful disposition when Dolion isn't around to shoot glares at everyone? Not him! In fact, he so doesn't care what other people think that- Yeah no, he usually ends up crying alone in his room when he feels lonely because Roman is always at rehearsals for some play or another and Dolion prefers to stay in his home alone after school to recharge for the next day.

That is, until he manages to catch the attention of one Virgil Ward, resident bad boy punk at the school who's rumored to have killed someone in the last school he was in and everyone avoids except for Student Body President Logan Thomas and resident biker gang member Remy Sanders.

Special thanks to @thetickleeraven for letting me write a fic inspired by their own fic, Rumored!! 

Patton was a lot of things. He was friendly, he was what Roman described as “soft pastel”, he was a dad joke loving fiend according to Dolion. He was not, however, popular. This was evident by the avoidant students and sarcastic teasing from the more, actually popular, kids.

That was fine though, he had Dolion and Roman and that was really all he needed, right? Wrong apparently, since he usually got overwhelmed with loneliness after school when he was home alone after school, waiting for his parents to get home from work. His mom already starting her twelve hour shift at the hospital and his dad barely coming home because he was a workaholic at his everyday desk job.

It was quiet existence and not exactly something Patton wanted, being the extroverted teen he was, but that wasn’t really something he could control. So, every morning, he’d wake up, put on makeup to hide his red puffy eyes from crying to sleep the night before, put on a bright grin and give himself a pep talk.

“You, Patton Heart, have got this. You’re kind, you love your friends, your friends love you, you’ve got all you need. You’re smart! Getting straight A’s at school and having a four-point-o grade average is hard to achieve and you’ve got that! You’re incredible, you can do this!”

Usually, the pep talk worked and he could get on with his day, but sometimes, like today, the words felt fake. It’s okay though, he could fake it ‘til he made it. He was going to get through today too!

Patton pushed the little voice in his head telling him he couldn’t do this to the back of his mind, grabbed his backpack from his room and headed out the door to go next door before Roman left to pick up Dolion.

The walk was short but definitely needed to pick up Patton’s spirits as he felt his grin grow more genuine at the thought of getting to see one of his two best friends so early in the morning. Roman Prince was already locking up the house when Patton made his way through the gate, beaming at the drama nerd humming some Disney song to himself (was that Go the Distance from Hercules?).

“Hey Ro!” Patton said brightly, making Roman jump and fumble with his keys, the jingle abruptly stopping when they fell through his fingers to the concrete porch step.

Patton snickered and Roman playfully glared at him, bending down to pick up his keys.

“Must you do that every morning, Pattoff?”

“I dunno, do you gotta get startled every morning, Romoff?” 

Roman sighed dramatically, walking past Patton and out to his red Hyundai Ioniq Hybrid (Patton had no idea what that was, but Roman was very insistent on saying the entire car brand or whatever it was).

“Honestly, you’d think with how often you scare me each morning I’d get used to you popping up out of nowhere, but no I’m always in different stages of getting ready when you come over!”

Patton rolled his eyes, readjusting his backpack strap on his shoulder before responding.

“Not my fault you’re inconsistent with getting ready. If you had a set routine I’m sure you’d get more used to it! I always come over at the same time every day, and I never know if you’re going to be still brushing your hair, putting on your makeup, or packing your bag.”

Roman stopped with the driver’s side door open to stare at Patton, as if just realizing something.

“Wow, you really do show up at the exact same time every day. Doesn’t the routine get a little boring?”

Patton shrugged, opening the door on his side and tossing his backpack on the floor before climbing in.

“It’s comforting, I guess? I dunno, I kinda like it though.”

Roman hummed as he climbed into the car with Patton, sticking his key into the ignition but not turning it and turning towards Patton.

“Didn’t you say once that routine wasn’t the healthiest for the human mind?”

Patton shrunk into his shoulders, staring out of the windshield.

“...yeah. The brain needs stimulation, and a regular routine bores the mind and makes depression more likely.”

Roman raised an eyebrow, but otherwise stayed quiet. Patton didn’t say anything else until Roman’s ringtone for Dolion started going off, Fall Out Boy blaring throughout the car.

Roman cursed and dug into his back pocket for his phone until he could answer the call, putting it on speaker so Patton could hear too.

“Yes, love?”

Dolion’s unamused voice came through the tiny speaker.

“Don’t you “love” me, you’re three minutes late in picking me up, Roman. School starts in five.”

Roman cursed again, setting his phone down on the center console while Patton snickered as they both buckled up.

“Did you seriously not even start driving yet? Do you want to be late again?”

Patton felt his heart jump into his throat at the reminder. If Roman made him late again that meant detention for Mr. Lendor because he was late yesterday but managed to get out of the punishment because he’d literally never been late before.

“Please step on it, Roman,” Patton whispered, sinking low in his seat at the thought of getting detention.

Roman gave Patton a weird look, Dolion already having hung up.

“Why? You usually advocate for safe driving.”

“I have Mr. Lendor first period, Roman. I was already late yesterday.”

Roman has a really bad habit of swearing, and usually, Patton would subscribe to the swear jar, but right now he actually agreed with the loud “Fuck!” that Roman let out as he pulled out of the driveway and stepped on the gas.

Patton ran into the school ahead of Dolion and Roman, quietly repeating crap to himself as he ran to the back of the school towards the English hall. Of course his first class had to be at the very back of the school! The bell rang thirty seconds before Patton slid into the classroom, his rubber soles squeaking against the linoleum flooring.

A bunch of kids starting snickering and whispering as Mr. Lendor handed Patton his detention slip, making his heart fall despite the heaving of his chest.

“I gave you a chance, Mr. Heart. I’ll be seeing you in Mrs. Montejo’s classroom after school.”

Patton nodded quietly, taking the slip before making his way to his seat in the front of the classroom, jamming the paper in the smallest pocket of his backpack before he pulled out his English textbook in dejection, opening it to the page written on the board. Today was going to be a long one…

And it honestly was. He’d had to run to every single class to make sure he was on time, getting warning shouts from teachers and angry ones from student’s he’d accidentally run into. He wasn’t usually in this much of a rush, but teachers kept holding him back after class to talk to him about this scholarship or that extra credit assignment and it was driving him insane!

He finally slowed down near his psych class, knowing Dr. Picani would be much more forgiving if he walked in a few seconds late than the rest of his teachers. His constant reference to cartoon characters definitely helped Patton get really into psychology. 

Patton gave a genuine smile at Dolion when he met him in the hall, walking along with him to Psychology.

“You look like hell,” was Dolion’s first comment, making Patton snort at the abrupt honesty.

“I know. I’ve been running around all day. Teachers keep holding me back to talk about my grades.”

Dolion groaned. “You’d think with your perfect grades, rivalling only Logan Thomas, teachers would leave you alone.”

Patton heaved a sigh, nodding in agreement. “I know, but they want me to start thinking about colleges, even though it’s still only Junior year and I don’t entirely know if I want to be a therapist or work with pets!”

Dolion gave Patton a Look. “You’re allergic to cats.”

“Not severely!” Patton defended, entering the open door of the classroom with Dolion, taking a moment to smile at Dr. Picani before sitting in his seat just as the bell rang. 

Of course, a minute after the bell rang, Picani hadn’t started teaching and that was because a certain student usually took two minutes after the bell rang to enter the class.

Patton shifted uncomfortably in the silence, Dolion already doodling in his sketchbook and not paying attention to anything but what he was doing. Patton sighed, resting his elbow on his desk before plopping his chin his hand while he waited for Virgil Ward to enter the classroom.

Virgil had a reputation. He always sat in the back of every classroom, regardless of seating arrangements, he skipped classes he didn’t like or feel like going to (which was saying something that he literally always showed up to Dr. Picani’s psychology class), he almost never spoke up and tended to insult whoever forced him to when he could.

He had also transferred to the highschool a year ago, and the rumor was that he had killed someone in his last school.

Patton didn’t think it was that extreme, otherwise he’d be in jail, right? Still, Patton couldn’t help but believe that maybe he had beaten someone up and gotten expelled or something and that had caused his transfer.

And right on time, Virgil sauntered into the classroom, his bottom lip dipping as he played with the piercing on it with his teeth.

Of course, there was also the fact that Virgil was incredibly attractive, with his piercings and tattoo sleeves and his ripped skinny jeans, his studded bracelets and black shirt and leather jacket. It was honestly ridiculous how hot the teen was.

And, instead of sitting in the very back, he always sat behind Patton.

Patton had grown used to it by now, what with the year being two-thirds of the way over, but it still gave him nervous butterflies. Whether it was from the tiny crush he had on him or the dangerous reputation he had, Patton never could tell.

He was just… he had control. He had friends too! Despite being labeled the dangerous bad boy everyone should avoid, everybody secretly swooned over him, and those that hated him didn’t dare make it known to his face and that was honestly just… so cool! It made Patton envious, but at the same time he admired him so much. He was friends with the actual smartest kid in school, Logan Thomas, and with resident biker gang member Remy Sanders.

Logically, pastel soft boy Patton, who wore pink and was one of the most sensitive kids in school shouldn’t be crushing on bad boy Virgil, but everything about him captivated Patton and he really couldn’t help it.

“Patton?” Dr. Picani said, making Patton blink back to reality.

“Um… yes?” he asked, sheepishly, making Picani raise an eyebrow.

“Can you tell me what HFD is?” he asked patiently, smiling knowingly as Patton flushed, realizing he had spaced out.

“High Functioning Depression. It’s uh… not actually a clinical diagnosis though, falling under Dysthymia instead....”

Dr. Picani nodded. “Exactly! People with HFD are found to be smarter than they were before, some psychologists find that people with HFD tend to throw themselves into their work, most claiming to be perfectionists before diagnosis.”

Patton breathed a sigh of relief when the attention was off him again, though now he was actually paying attention to what Dr. Picani was saying and taking notes. He’d have to ask someone for notes he may have missed, if he can find anyone. Dolion doesn’t usually take notes, and usually everybody else avoids him…

Sighing, Patton listened intently, trying not to let his mind wander off. He’d barely eaten today, so concentrating was difficult, maybe he should eat something when he gets home? His mom should have food ready when he gets home, if she decided to cook tonight. Though maybe not, she did mention having to go to work early today and wanting to get plenty of rest in his family group chat during lunch…

Before he knew it, the class was over and he’d once again barely paid attention, though it didn’t look like there was homework for this class at least. Hopefully he’d get a chance to go over someone’s notes during detention.

“Patton, if you wouldn’t mind staying for a minute?” Dr. Picani spoke up, making Patton sigh.

“Yeah, Dr. Picani?” he asked, forcing on a tired smile for the sake of his favorite teacher.

“Are you okay? You barely paid attention today. You had a faraway look in your eyes almost the entire class.”

Patton nodded, smiling more genuinely this time.

“Yeah, I’m okay! I’m just tired today is all, I was up late working on homework last night.”

Dr. Picani hummed to himself, tapping his chin.

“Can you do me a favor? I want you to research depression tonight, different types, as much as you can handle after all of your homework. Then I want you to come see me Monday after school and talk to me about what you learned, okay?”

Patton, feeling slightly confused, nodded. “Sure, Doctor. Can I ask why?”

“We’ll talk about that on Monday, Patton.”

Nodding, still confused, Patton turned to leave the room after Dr. Picani gestured for him to leave.

And then he noticed the time and he took off running through the halls again to get to the Spanish building outside. God, why was this school so big?

He barely made it into the classroom with a minute to spare, his rushed entrance gaining the attention of everyone there, including Virgil and Remy, the latter sporting a black eye that couldn’t even be completely covered by his shades. The former had bruised knuckles, and there was a third kid closer to the front of the classroom with a swollen nose and split lip.

“Kind of you to finally join us, Mr. Heart. Why don’t you take a seat next to Mr. Ward in the back and we can get started. I certainly hope you don’t make being late a habit.”

Patton bit back his response that he wasn’t late this time, deciding he didn’t really want to gain a reputation of fighting teachers and did as he was asked.

The butterflies in his belly returned, this time stronger, now that he was sitting right next to Virgil instead of in front of him. God help him, detention was going to be hard until he was able to focus on something else.

“Alright, now that everyone’s here, detention has officially started. You’re not allowed to do anything except sit there and think. You all know the drill. I’ll be back here every fifteen minutes to check in on you.”

Patton held back a groan, slumping forward and hitting his head against the table. Being forced to think with nothing to do? Bad idea, Mr. Lendor. If he heard Patton’s regular thoughts when he was crying himself to sleep at night (not that he’d do that here, too many people), he doubted the teacher would make him do nothing.

“I know this is something you’re not used to, Mr. Heart, but you do need to face the consequences of your actions.”

Patton sat up to stare at Mr. Lendor in horror at being sought out, the snickering from the other students making Patton’s cheeks burn.

“Yes sir,” he muttered, sinking low in his seat as Mr. Lendor left the room.

The second the authority figure was gone, Remus, Patton’s regular tormentor switched desks from the front to the one right in front of him, sitting backwards in the chair with a wicked grin.

“Well helloooo~ Pattoff!”

Patton flinched, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Please don’t call me that, Remus.”

Remus pouted, pushing his cheek into his hand so one side of his face squished up.

“Awww, why not Pattoff? Aren’t we friends?”

Patton didn’t answer, staring at his desk and picking at a loose thread on his pastel yellow jean shorts.

Remus huffed at the lack of a response.

“So, what’d you do, baby? You’re never late to class, surely Mr. Lendor was sparing you? Did you get in a fight? Finally grow some balls and punch someone? I knew you were faking that ridiculous sensitivity of yours.”

“Leave him alone, Burke,” Virgil snapped, making Patton look over at the other in surprise, Remus doing the same.

“Aww, Virge sweetie, I’m sorry. Am I bothering your little toy? I didn’t know you laid claim on him,” Remus purred, only to jump in surprise when Patton stood up abruptly, smacking his hands against his desk.

Patton was glaring harshly at Remus, tears in his eyes.

“I am sick of your gross comments toward me Remus Burke. You have anger issues and an obsession with sex? Fine, but leave me the hell alone.”

And then he stormed out of the building, adjusting his route so that he could head home, whether or not Mr. Lendor was gonna give him another detention on Monday or not.

[winterisakiller]

Rumor Has It...

Title: Rumor Has It...

One Shot: 1/1

Character: Tom Hiddleston/Cath Richardson (OFC)

Genre: fluff

Rating: All ages

Summary: With Betrayal a success in both London and New York, rumors of  Tony award nominations spread. Tom Hiddleston, while flattered, refuses to let himself be led by it. But when the day the nominations are set to be announced arrives, Tom finds himself drawn into the tantalizing idea of ‘what if’ and with his girlfriend of a year by his side, waits with bated breath to see if rumor turns into fact. 

Authors Notes/Warnings: I received the above ask towards the end of last month and at first thought of tackling this with Tom and Rosie but the more I thought about the idea the more I realized it fit so perfectly with Tom and my newest OFC, Cath (whom you will be officially meeting in ‘Get Better’ a sequel to my three part story ‘Brave Face’ which will start posting on August 1st). So this story takes place after the events of Get Better and while I feel odd about technically showing my hand with this, I love the story this ask brought about and I hope you enjoy it to.  Thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff for letting me continually throw ideas off and at you. I still can’t fathom why you put up with it, but I am eternally grateful you do.

Tag list: @theheartofpenelope @tinchentitri @blacksuitofdoom @noplacelikehome77 @nonsensicalobsessions @messy-insomniac-bookgirl 

Tom had woken far earlier than he’d meant to that morning and from a sleep that hadn’t been as restful as he’d hoped. Filming had gone much later than intended the night before and he’d finally stumbled into bed at quarter past one in the morning. A glance at the clock on the bedside table had told him it was just pushing eight. He groaned and rolled back over onto his stomach, willing sleep to claim him once more. But a half an hour of tossing and turning proved that notion fruitless.

 He’d pushed himself out of bed and padded down the stairs, Bobby close on his heels. The spaniel weaved excitedly around his legs as Tom wandered into the kitchen. “Okay, okay,” he yawned, heading towards the back garden door. “Go do your business and I’ll have your breakfast ready when you’re done.” Bobby sprinted out into the back garden, yipping at the birds and squirrels. Tom poured kibble into the porcelain dog bowl and set about making himself a cup of coffee. Ten minutes later Bobby scrambled back in the opened door and attacked his meal with gusto. Tom simply shook his head and sipped his steaming mug of coffee.

 Coffee finished Tom found himself climbing the stairs once more and heading back into the bedroom. He should start getting himself ready for the day, he had a few hours left to kill before Cath would arrive for their weekly lunch date. It was nice, he’d found, having a simple routine in place. It gave him something to look forward to, a reminder of how they’d started. And any other day he’d be whistling as he picked up his clothing, looking forward to a few hours with the woman who’d come to mean the world to him. But there was a quiet layer of unease floating over him. Must be the lack of sleep, he reasoned with himself as he paced before the closet door. Though if he were being honest, he’d been feeling off the past week. He stopped as a realization hit him. The nominations come out today.

 “This is fucking ridiculous,” he muttered to himself. He needed to get out of the house and try to clear his mind. He took a deep breath, nodding to himself before tossing on his running gear, grabbing Bobby’s lead, and taking them both on a much needed run. Bobby had been gloriously excited at the prospect, jumping around Tom’s feet as they made their way out the front door, nearly causing his master to trip several times before he was able to right himself, a string of curses echoing off the walls of the main hall. Wouldn’t that be hysterical, death by excited dog? Tom shook his head and pulled the door closed behind them both.

 Headphones in, Tom lead them both down the relatively empty sidewalks of his neighborhood. It was late enough that the morning rush had all but cleared, which Tom had been grateful for. In his current state he was quite likely to run into a hapless commuter that found their way into his path.

He was being utterly ridiculous and he’d known it; letting his nerves get the better of him because of this, the chance that he might have just the slightest chance of actually getting a nomination. There was nothing set in stone, simply rumor and word of mouth but god if it were true? He couldn’t seem to wrap his head around it. He was frankly afraid to think it for fear of jinxing the matter, as stupid and silly as the notion was.

 When he’d taken the role of Robert in Betrayal nearly a year past, he had looked forward to the challenge of the role; to playing a man of dubious morals caught in a situation that effected so many lives not just his own. He’d been thrilled with the idea of a limited run, of being able to be back on stage and giving it his all night after night. Of being able to sleep in his own bed. The show’s initial success had been an unexpected, but deeply longed for, delight. They had always hoped the show would do well, but life in the West End was tricky and audiences could be fickle at the best of times. Many a great show had utterly failed to take off and there had been every chance that Betrayal could have been one of them.

 Getting to work with Zawe and Charlie had been a dream. They were just as engaged and dedicated as he was; he’d known Charlie for years and had always wanted the chance to work with him. Zawe had been great fun to work with during both the Pinter celebration and the Tolstoy vs Dickens battle. They were both magnificent in the craft and they’d been wonderful to play off of. Despite the show’s heavy nature, and his own personal experiences with the subject matter, Tom could honestly say the initial three month run had been some of the most fun he’d had in years.

 And then the call had come, asking if he would be interesting in reviving his role alongside Charlie and Zawe, this time in New York and on Broadway. It was surreal, almost like a dream, and he had hardly believed it at first. His agent had needed to explain it, twice, before he’d actually been able to comprehend just what was being offered let alone agree. Cath had been the first person he called, knowing without a doubt that she would understand both his joy and his fear. And she had been ecstatic, beaming with pride for both him and for the production that she’d played a small role herself in bringing to life.

 He’d ramble on to her about his excitement and his worry. He talked about how absolutely elated he was to get the chance to work on Broadway, how he couldn’t believe they had done so well as to warrant such a thing, his fear that the show might not translate as well with American audiences, and his very real worry that four plus months apart would do them more harm than good especially when what they had was so new. And Cath, to her credit, had let him do so, offering him her quiet support and encouragement. He was talented, they all were; this was a wonderful opportunity regardless of how it panned out in the end and, most of all, this was a part of his job, she understood that and she trusted him. Her faith in him had warmed his heart in ways he couldn’t quite put to words.

 And the show had done well. Far better than he had dared to dream it would. Audiences and critics alike seemed taken with the production. He’d been positively giddy opening night; the show had gone off without a hitch, they had all been completely on point, and, best of all, Cath had surprised him by flying in. She hadn’t told him she was coming, and with her work picking up back home in London, he’d not expected her to be able to get away especially not this early on. But there she had been in the front row, beaming with pride and Tom had barely been able to contain his excitement when he’d caught sight of her.

 He’d pulled her into his arms when he’d finally been able to find her backstage, kissing her soundly, not caring who saw them. While they had kept their relationship relatively quiet, Tom had no intention of hiding her or what she meant to him. They’d gone out to celebrate; joining his cast mates for drinks before making excuses and heading off to take in a late dinner. She only had that night; her flight back to Heathrow had been scheduled for the next afternoon, her latest production couldn’t spare her for more than a day and a night. So it was with reluctance, late the next morning, that he’d seen her to the cab that would whisk her to the airport and from there back to London.

 Tom had been exhausted by the end of the run; physically drained and more than ready to head home, but so very grateful for the chance he’d been given. He’d have a few weeks grace once there before pre-production was set to begin on the Loki series and he’d been very much looking forward to spending time with friends and family. To insulating himself in the people who mattered and forgetting the outside world for as long as he was able.

 When the buzz started about potential awards surrounding the New York run of Betrayal, Tom had paid them little mind. Such talk was typical and usually didn’t add up to anything in the long run. Especially as early on as the initial talk had been. But the talk kept happening and slowly Tom found himself thinking about the possibility with more frequency and more definition. It would be frankly amazing to get such recognition, a dream, but he had learned better than to take it as granted; he’d seen and experienced far too much in his career so far to ever do such a thing.

 Cath had been his voice of reason through it all and had done her utmost best to keep him focused on the present, though he knew she was just as anxious as he was to see if it would actually happen. Much of his time had been spent on set, working with the various directors and writers to make the most of his next foray as the God of Mischief. Filming in and around London had been a godsend, though there had always been the distinct possibility of location shooting if needed for later episodes.

 Being close to home was wonderful and he knew he was spoiled by it. He’d made the effort to spend time with the friends he normally wouldn’t be able to see for months if not years at a time. He’d also spent as much time as he could with Cath; they’d taken to walks around the park with Bobby followed by dinner whenever they could. And Tuesday afternoons meeting for lunch, a habit they’d carried over from start of their relationship; when they’d cautiously extended the branch of friendship while dancing around the fact there was so much more between them. Things with Cath had taken to moving at a much slower rate than he’d done in previous relationships, cautious and steady, and for that he was exceedingly grateful. Tom was taking his time with Cath, wanting to make things work, needing to do it right this time. He’d gone through too much to risk repeating any of his past mistakes. Not when this time he thought that maybe, just maybe, he’d found the right person.

 Tom was a sweating but slightly calmer mess by the time he and Bobby had made it back home at quarter past eleven. He’d let Bobby loose once he’d closed the front door then taken the stairs two at a time, shedding his running clothes as he went. He rushed a shower, knowing Cath was due to arrive shortly. Dressed in dark jeans and a clean black t-shirt, he padded back downstairs and worked to throw together the lunch he’d planned. He’d been ambitious the day before, spending half of his free morning roasting a chicken and preparing various vegetables, all then combined into what he’d hoped were passable pot pies. All he’d left to do was pop them into the oven and hope for the best.

 As the baked, Tom busied himself tossing together a quick salad and dodging Bobby’s questing nose; the spaniel lived for Tom dropping bits of food and was always on guard for potential yummy surprises. By the time the buzzer on the front gate had gone off, announcing Cath’s arrival, Tom had the table in the dining room set and Bobby shut firmly in the back garden, mainly to save Cath from his frenzied excitement at her arrival. Tom’s nerves had come back in full swing as he buzzed her in and made his way to the front door.

 Cath greeted him with a quick kiss before pulling back and studying his face. “Whatever happens, you’ve done remarkably well and I am proud of you.” She reached up and brushed an errant curl behind his ear.

 A broad grin broke across his features at both her words and her touch. “How is it you always know what to say?” Tom queried with a soft laugh, as he ushered her inside.

 She shrugged out of her jacket, hanging it on the coatrack by the door, and rested her bag in its usual place on the hallway table. “Years of practice,” she joked. “And listening to the drivel my brother has said. Apparently his choice of profession has rubbed off on me in ways.”

 Tom smiled at her before pulling her tightly against him and kissing the top of her head. He loved the way she fit so perfectly against him; her head coming to the middle his chest. He couldn’t adequately count the numbers of times he’d held her like this and just how much such a simple thing had come to mean.

 “So where is that delightful dog of yours?” Cath murmured into his chest before pulling back and glancing around the hall. Usually by this point Bobby would be barking at their heels demanding his own special greeting from the woman in Tom’s arms.

 Tom laughed in earnest at her actions and her words. “I see how it is now. You only like me for my dog.” Cath shrugged, smiling up at him, and they both broke into another round of laughter. “Bobby’s out back,” he told her once they’d calmed. “He’s been particularly underfoot the past few days. Driving me around the bend.”

 “Poor baby.” She leaned up and kissed him lightly. “I’ll just go pop out and say hello shall I?” She pulled out of Tom’s embrace and pattered down the hallway towards the back garden door.

 He shook his head and followed quickly behind muttering, “It’s always the bloody dog.”

 Once Bobby had his ears firmly scratched and had given Cath his requisite excited kisses, the two of them made their way back inside with Bobby at their heels. Tom had made a valiant attempt to send the spaniel back but Cath had quickly stepped in, pleading his case, and Tom acquiesced with only a small amount of reluctance. Bobby trotted alongside his champion, looking back at Tom with what he could only described as a triumphant grin.

 Bobby had taken his place, standing guard between Tom and Cath as they settled in the dining room, ever watchful for any dropped morsel. Tom pretended not to notice Cath slipping Bobby a piece of chicken and she offered him the same curtesy when he’d done the same ten minutes later much to the spaniel’s delight. They chatted amicably as they ate about their comings and goings during the past week; Cath had recently started working a new production in the West End and therefore had endless stories to share, most of which had Tom in hysterics. He, in turn, talked about his filming and about the next few projects he’d been tossing around. A few in and around London and a few farther abroad.

 Tom had just stood, preparing to pop into the kitchen to grab the pudding he’d readied the night before when he felt his mobile vibrate in his pocket. He froze, causing Cath to stare up at him in momentary confusion. “Tom?”

 He shook himself out of his head and pulled the phone from his pocket. His eyes widened as he took in the text from his agent that lit up his screen. ‘Congrats, Tom! Knew you would get it.’ Followed by a screen capture. ‘2020 Tony Nominees for Best Performance by an Actor in a Leading Role in a Play: Tom Hiddleston for Betrayal’.

 “Oh…Oh my god.”

 Tom dropped back into his seat with soft thud, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry; could barely think.

 Concern flashed in Cath’s green eyes and she stood quickly, coming to stand beside him. “Tom? Tom what is it?”

 Wordlessly he held out his mobile towards Cath, his hand shaking. She took it was a steady hand and read it silently to herself. He watched as her eyes widened and her mouth popped open in a silent ‘o’ of surprise. “Oh my god.” She dropped the phone onto the table, mouth splitting into a massive grin, as she turned to face him. “Oh. My. God! Tom, this is fantastic!”

 “I just…I…How…” he spluttered, failing completely at trying to find words to express himself. “This is real right?” He raised his eyes towards hers, a pleading look in them. “This isn’t some god awful prank?” He felt stupid even voicing such a thought but couldn’t seem to help himself.

 Cath shook her head, beaming at him. “No, it’s not. Tom you got the nomination. This is…I am so incredibly proud of you.” She threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly to her small frame. After a few moments he wrapped his own arms around her, returning her embrace.

 “I can’t believe it. I mean, I’d hoped…because you always hope, right? I just never…” Tom trailed off, laughing softly. Beside them on the table, his mobile had begun to vibrate away. He pulled back enough to steal a quick glance at it; far too many texts to count flashed across the brightly lit screen.

 “Quite the popular fellow there, Thomas,” Cath quipped, leaning in to place a quick kiss on the tip of his nose.

 Tom chuckled and pulled her firmly into his lap, pulling an unexpected whoop of surprise from her lips. “Occupational hazard, my dear.”

 Cath laughed and swatted him lightly on the chest. He rubbed the spot and murmured a soft oath in protest which earned him a quirked eyebrow. “Watch it.”

 He leaned in and kissed her firmly. “Never.”

 “Typical,” Cath breathed with a sigh, “man earns himself a Tony nomination and it goes straight to his head.”

 Tom dropped his head back and let out a long, loud laugh.

[sapphiclecterarchive]

the babysitter - fic

Fandom: MCU, Spiderman

Character(s): Peter Parker

Desc.: In which Peter is trusted with a child.

A/N: i’ve never posted any fics on tumblr so i thought i’d give it a shot! this will also be on my ao3 if you fancy sending it some love over there. SORRY if this is indecipherable, it was written in 3 days in amongst a mad panic to finish art coursework

WARNING FOR ENDGAME SPOILERS. SO MANY SPOILERS. OH MY GOD THERE ARE SO MANY SPOILERS IN THIS

Peter really isn’t expecting the call.

May is working a late night at the shelter, which she’d explained with a concise note left in the middle of the kitchen counter, underneath a twenty dollar bill for takeout. The takeout guy is the only person he’s expecting to encounter this evening, besides the Instagram group chat which buzzes every two minutes and John Mulaney on Netflix. That’s until his phone rings.

The number isn’t saved on his phone, so he almost doesn’t answer it. It’s only when he realises that it could be May calling in an emergency, or Ned or MJ or anyone else, that anxiety forces him to pick the phone up. The line between his Spidey senses and generalised anxiety disorder is a thin one that he treads very carefully.

“Hello?”

The woman on the other end of the line sighs in relief, “Peter, thank God you picked up.”

He recognises her voice instantly - from the news, from the battle, from the funeral. He scrambles to find the remote and pause the TV.

“Mrs Potts? Why are you — what is — uh — how are you?”

They haven’t spoken since the wake, when she’d hugged him and let him cry into her shoulder. His heart seizes at the memory of her calm composure, supporting a boy she barely knew while he fell apart over the death of the man she loved.

“I’m doing alright, thank you,” she answers. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Okay.”

“Would you be able to babysit Morgan for a few hours?” Peter’s hand freezes on it’s way to the bag of Cheetos next to him on the couch. “I wouldn’t normally ask with such little notice, but I have to do some stuff for the Foundation launch, and our regular sitter fell through.”

“That’s no problem at all,” Peter says, without even thinking about it. “I didn’t have plans, anyway.”

Pepper exhales with relief, “That’s amazing. I’ve sent Happy to pick you up, he should be there soon. Thank you so much, this is such a big help.”

As soon as he places his phone down, Peter realises that he knows absolutely nothing about taking care of a kid, and that he’s currently in nothing but ratty sweatpants and an old sports jersey.

He practically launches himself over the back of the couch, abandoning his show and his takeout to race into his bedroom. His pyjamas are replaced with black jeans and a thick wool sweater over a tshirt, and he just manages to comb through his hair and spray himself with deodorant before his phone chimes from the couch and he races to check it.

Unknown Number: Outside. – Happy

He texts May to let her know where he’s going while he bounds down the stairs. Sure enough, Happy is waiting on the sidewalk, leaning up against a black car.

To Peter’s surprise, Happy ignores his offered handshake and instead pulls him in for a hug. The embrace lasts a long few seconds before Happy pulls back, his hand lingering on Peter’s shoulder. “How you holding up, kid?”

“Okay,” Peter says. Happy opens the passenger side door for Peter and rounds the car to get in behind the wheel. The doors slam, and Peter talks over the starting of the engine. “School’s getting intense, and — uh — everyone’s getting excited for prom. But, uh… Yeah, that’s sort of it.”

Happy glances at him out of the corner of his eye as he pulls the car out into the road. “Prom, huh? You got your eye on anyone? Planning a…. what do you call it? A promposal?”

Peter thinks about MJ, about Ned, about Betty, about the guy in his physics class who always lets him share his textbook when Peter forgets… “I haven’t really thought about it, uh, with everything going on.”

“I getcha, kid.” They come to a slow stop at a red light. “These past months have been pretty intense… I haven’t really known what to do with myself, to be honest.”

His voice has grown quiet, and the last word of the sentence almost dies completely. Peter looks over at him as he scrubs a hand over his face. Is he crying?

Happy is covering his face with one of his hands, now, shoulders shaking minutely. Peter has no idea what to do. What are you supposed to do when your dead mentor’s assistant who hated you not that long ago is suddenly crying in front of you?

“Uh… Happy?” He gets no reply. “Happy?”

“Yeah, kid?” Happy looks up at him, his eyes tear-filled and puffy but a supportive smile on his face all the same.

“The light’s green.”

As if on cue, the car behind them beeps it’s horn, spurring Happy into moving the car forward.

Pepper Potts is waiting for them when they arrive at the house. It looks no different to how it did at the funeral, and it upsets him a little to look at the front porch and the small dock where they’d stood to say their final goodbye. She gives him a very brief tour of the house, and an explanation of Morgan’s bedtime routine. Apparently, she has already had her bath and her dinner, so the only thing Peter has to do is put her to bed by eight.

“There’s enough food in the refrigerator and the pantry for you to make yourself something to eat, feel free to watch whatever you want on the TV, and I should be home by eleven, but if you’re tired by then you’re welcome to sleep in the guest room.” She pauses, taps her fingertips together as if checking off a list, and then drops her hands and smiles warmly at him. “I really can’t thank you enough for doing this.”

How could he have said no? He understands more than anyone what grief feels like, and if the obvious exhaustion underlying her composed expression is anything to go by, being suddenly thrust into single parenthood has taken its toll on her. He remembers May wearing the same expression after his Uncle Ben died, and he knows now how much she’d needed an extra pair of hands.

“It’s really no problem, Mrs Potts.”

Her petite hand brushes his elbow, “Please, call me Pepper.”

She then crouches down to say goodbye to Morgan, and he politely looks away, for some reason he feels like that moment deserves privacy.

“You’ve got my number, so if there’s anything you need you can either call me or Happy, okay?” she assures him.

“Okay, Mrs — Pepper.”

She smiles, nods, and gives Morgan one last kiss on the cheek before leaving.

“We’ve got about forty minutes to kill before bedtime.” He looks down at the young girl. “What do you want to do?”

“Cartoons!” she exclaims, a gleeful grin on her pudgy face.

“Cartoons?” He turns toward the couch, expecting her to follow him. She grabs three of his fingers with her small hand and walks ahead of him, as if guiding him to the couch. He doesn’t have to wonder where she gets that from.

“Cartoons,” she clarifies, jumping up onto the couch with a huff.

He sits next to her and picks up the remote to start looking for the kids’ channels. “What’s your favorite cartoon?”

“Spongebob!” she says around her thumb.

It takes him all of five minutes to scroll through the entire TV guide and finally assess that there isn’t one channel currently playing an episode of Spongebob. Or any cartoons, it seems. He’s about to give up, when she holds out her hand.

“Remote.” The ‘R’ is more of a ‘W’, and she makes a grabby hand toward the remote until he passes it to her.

“There are no channels playing cartoons…” he begins to explain, bracing himself for a five-year-old temper tantrum. Instead of screaming or crying, however, he’s greeted with the familiar opening note of the Spongebob theme tune.

When he looks at her, she’s looking back at him with a cheeky grin. “How did you figure that out?”

“Mummy got it on the TV for me.” Her speech is pretty advanced for a five year old, but it’s obvious how hard she’s working to get her words right. “She said so I can watch it when I’m sad.”

His eyebrows knit together, and he fears sounding like a counsellor - or a parent - but he can’t help but ask, “Are you sad a lot?”

She shrugs, jams her thumb in her mouth and talks around it, “I watch Spongebob a lot.”

He ends up watching her more than he watches the cartoon, mesmerised by her starry-eyed expression as she watches the bright colours flash across the screen. They reflect in her big brown eyes, which he knows that she inherited from her dad. She also inherited her stubbornness, apparently, because even when her eyelids begin to droop and she can hardly sit upright for sleepiness, she doesn’t give in. She refuses to doze off until the end credits of the episode are rolling, and then she almost instantly collapses, snoring lightly, onto the couch cushions.

Careful not to wake her, he slips his arms underneath her armpits and lifts her. Her arms and legs wrap around him sleepily, making it much easier for him to carry her upstairs without fear of dropping her. He pushes the door open with the heel of his shoe, uses his right hand to continue supporting Morgan’s weight while his left pulls back the covers on her small bed. Once he’s placed her down and tucked the blanket up to her chin, he follows Pepper’s instructions of shutting the blind, turning on the nightlight next to her bed, and leaving the door slightly ajar when he eventually steps back out into the hall.

The TV is still displaying the paused credits of Spongebob when he sits back down on the couch. He wants to go onto Netflix and carry on with what he was watching earlier, but he feels like it might be a bit of an intrusion to use Pepper’s personal Netflix account, so he settles on a channel that seems to be only playing reruns of Family Guy.

His phone buzzes, and he glances at where it sits next to him on the couch.

Ned: Deathmatch?

Peter can’t help his smile. After Thanos, and everything else that’s followed, the simple things like playing Overwatch with Ned - even if he loses every time - make him so much happier than they would have before.

Peter: can’t tonight, am babysitting.

The next message from Ned comes through almost immediately.

Ned: Who tf trusted U with their kid?

Peter: ikr

Peter: pepper needed an extra hand w morgan

Ned doesn’t reply, so he assumes that the match has started and settles down onto the plush couch cushions. He scrolls through his Instagram feed, through photos posted by people from school and the odd celebrity. Until, eventually, he dozes off with his phone still in his hand.

A loud bang makes him start awake what feels like five minutes later. His phone slips out of his hand and onto the floor, the bang it creates making him startle again. He sits up blearily and stretches until his back pops. Through the windows, he can see nothing but black. His phone screen, when he picks it up to check, tells him that it’s just past nine-thirty. He hadn’t planned to sleep at all, let alone for an hour and a half.

Everything in the house still seems intact, and it doesn’t seem like Pepper is home, so he assumes that the bang was caused by the dog door, or something similar. Nevertheless, a residual anxiety forces him to his feet. He rubs the sleep from his eyes as he trudges up the stairs toward Morgan’s room.

The door is still slightly ajar, and the light from the hallway illuminates a strip of her polka dot duvet cover. He pushes the door open more, expecting to see her still tucked up tight and fast asleep.

She isn’t in her bed.

Peter’s stomach flips.

“Morgan?” he calls, hoping that she’s just hidden somewhere and will pop out giggling.

She doesn’t. He flicks the light on.

“Morgan?” He rounds the bed to check the other side, which is also empty.

She’s not hiding underneath the bed or in the wardrobe, and he checks every single room upstairs for her. But, she’s not in Pepper’s room, the guest room or the bathroom.

“Morgan!” he calls again as he races down the stairs. The downstairs bathroom is also empty, and she isn’t in the living room or the kitchen.

As he races back into the living room, his eyes lock on the front door. He can’t remember locking it behind Pepper, and he’d been woken up with a loud slam…

He throws open the front door, looking out onto the lake and the front garden, until there’s a small cough to his right.

There she is, her small form curled up on the rocking chair, thumb in her mouth and eyelids heavy with

He softens his voice to try and mask his panic. “What are you doing out here?”

“I can’t sleep,” she explains quietly. Her body seems to betray her there, though, because she lets out a yawn almost immediately.

He really doesn’t know how to get a stubborn kid to go back to sleep. He thinks back to when he was a kid, and how May would convince him to go to bed.

“You can have milk and cookies if you come back inside.”

She shakes her head.

“Juice pops?”

He remembers seeing them in the freezer earlier, and he assumes that she’ll be moved by the offer. She isn’t, and shakes her head again.

“I want to talk to daddy,” she says.

Peter’s brain takes a second too long to reboot, because she rolls her eyes and continues like he’s missed a very obvious point. “Mummy says that daddy can hear me if I sit here and talk to him.”

This is the first time this whole evening that Peter realises how much she must miss her dad. For the past few weeks, he’s felt like he’s been on autopilot, like there’s a vital part of him missing. So he can hardly imagine how she feels; she probably doesn’t even understand that he’s never coming back.

He doesn’t remember when his parents died, but he remembers asking May about them. He remembers the frown that would tug on her mouth every time he did. He remembers how much that frown would confuse him. They’re in a better place, she would say, so why would she look so sad?

He understands the questions she probably has, he understands how overwhelmed she must feel, surrounded by sadness and falseness and feelings that she doesn’t yet understand. All she needs is some normality.

“I think daddy would want you to wear a jacket outside.”

She pouts indignantly and crosses her arms to let him know she isn’t going anywhere.

Knowing now that she isn’t being moved, he grabs the hem of his sweater and tugs it over his head. The hair on his arms immediately bristles against the cold, his t-shirt doing nothing to keep him warm.

He crouches in front of the chair so that he’s level with her, sweater held between them.

“This sweater belonged to my uncle Ben. He’s in the same place as your dad, but before he went, he gave me this sweater. Do you know what he told me when he gave it to me?” She shakes her head. “He told me that it would protect me against anything, and it can protect you, too.”

He remembers Ben passing it to him while they were queueing for the Haunted Mansion at Disney World. Peter had forced him and May to queue for almost two hours, only to get too scared and start sobbing as soon as they got closer to the ride. The sweater was supposed to be a mode of persuasion for a then nine year old Peter, but it’s his most treasured item, and memory.

After Ben had died, the only thing Peter wanted to keep was the sweater, and ever since, he has worn it whenever he needs extra comfort.

He’s been wearing it a lot recently.

“Anything?” Morgan repeats, eyes wide. “Even monsters?”

He laughs, “Even monsters. Do you want to put it on?”

She nods enthusiastically, and he silently praises himself for his quick thinking as he helps her pull it over her head. It’s too big for him, so it covers almost her whole body, and the sleeves are about twice the length of her arms. She looks a lot warmer and happier, though.

She reaches out to him, and he doesn’t understand what she wants until her hands pop out of the sleeves and open and close sporadically in a move which he reads as “pick me up”.

He picks her up around her waist, her arms wrapping around his neck, and then turns to sit on the chair. She shifts around until she’s sideways on his lap, facing the lake, her head cushioned on his shoulder and her hands pulled up under her chin. The sweater cocoons her like a swaddle.

“Can you tell me a story?”

He doesn’t know any stories for kids, unless the classic, Disney movie fairy tales count.

“Do you want a story about your dad?”

She nods, the movement clear against his shoulder.

“Okay.” He wills himself not to cry immediately at the memory of his mentor, not wanting to freak the kid out or undo the hard work Pepper has undoubtedly done on making this whole situation seem lighter for her. “When I met your dad, I’d just gone through a big change…”

He recites the story of Germany, and then, when she asks for another, the stories of the boat and of Titan. They’re shortened, censored, and the latter is missing the part where he turned to dust for five years, but they’re true. Calmed by the stories, and smiling at the talk of her dad, she eventually falls asleep soundly against his shoulder. He looks down at her serene face, and he hopes that she remembers the good things about Tony, he hopes that she’s dreaming about him. He hopes that she dreams about building pillow forts with him, about him carrying her on his hip while doing important research, about him tucking her into bed and kissing her forehead.

Pepper gets home not long after Peter has tucked her back into bed.

“Was she okay?” she asks in a whisper, although the house is definitely big enough to talk at full volume and not wake the sleeping girl.

“She was a dream.”

A small, relieved sigh stirs her fringe. “Good. I really can’t thank you enough.”

“It’s honestly fine,” he says. “I had fun.”

When he unlocks and pushes open the door of the apartment, May is in her pajamas on the couch, watching some reality TV show. She looks over the back of the couch when she hears the door close, and smiles. She seems tired, as she always does after working overtime, but she’s wearing her fluffy pink socks, which means that she’s happy.

“Good night?”

He sits next to her, slowly tipping sideways until his head lands on her bent knee. Her hand automatically goes to his hair, stroking the top of it like she used to when he was small and would sit on the floor between her knees while her and Ben watched TV. Then, she moves her hand to his upper arm, and her palm feels boiling hot against his skin. “You’re freezing.”

As she tugs the throw blanket over him and pulls him closer to her side, he realises that he didn’t take his sweater back.