#so it's apparently been sitting in my askbox for god knows how long

[1ovede1uxe]

02. the sun┊ ┊⋆ beyond the stars

synopsis - you've been sent to join the joestar crew on their mission to defeat dio by... dio? y/n is an undercover stand user who joins the sdc to report back to dio their findings and notes about their stands, up until a few moral dilemmas get in the way of your original mission.

ch. synopsis - a really awkward car ride with three teenagers cramped in the back

quick author note: the episode the sun was just difficult to write, so I kinda danced around it, apologies. this chapter is going to serve to set up the next one :)

You all sat there in the car, almost kind of awkwardly, only almost, as you were the only point of tension. Ever since you woke up from your car nap, that is. Conversation seemed to be flowing and you waking up was a dam in the river. Now awake, what a better way to pass time than to resort to a twitter scroll? You don’t notice it initially, but Jotaro surely does peek over at your screen. He sees your feed of some stan twitter, art, and American news.

There’s absolutely no fucking way.

You stifle a small laugh, but apparently not very well. From what it seems to you, Jotaro flutters his eyes open from the seat next to you. “Can you keep it down? What’s so funny you have to wake me up anyways…” You quickly bookmark a tweet and then send it to someone named Mariah. Unbeknownst to you, Jotaro takes note of this. “Oh, sorry..” You awkwardly apologize. “I just thought it was funny that Dio has twitter.” Jotaro keeps his unamused look and mutters a trademark “good grief.” He too, begins to scroll, then type.

God, I feel like he doesn’t trust me, which y’know, fair enough, but I don’t want him to dislike me either way, it’s gonna cause problems for them and me.

Having been lost in thought, you didn’t even notice Kakyoin in the seat next you take out his earbuds and peak over your shoulder “Hm, Let me see.” You happily oblige, rotating yourself toward Kakyoin, your thigh pressed against his (the middle seat is a tight fit). You scroll through his account and chuckle at his inability to grasp modern culture, let alone social media. After a fleeting moment of shared humor, Polnareff groans after waking up from a front seat nap. “Are we thereee yet?” He drags out. “Fifteen minutes, everybody.” Mr Joestar announces from the drivers seat. You sideeye at Kakyoin on his phone, not out of judgement, but just observing.

I’m not going to lie, he honestly is kinda attractive. To be fair, so is Jotaro but there’s something about Kakyoin…

Once he notices, he quickly shuts off his phone.

Odd.

Conveniently, the car pulls to a stop and Mr. Joestar rushes you all out. Next thing you know, you’re hoisted on camel back.

— The Events of the Episode/Chapter “The Sun” take place —

You send a reaction Mariah’s message and put your phone in the night stand. After the incidents of today, your bones ached, and though you were treated to dinner and many glasses of water, there was still that dry tickle at the back of your throat. The clock ticked on the wall and it was all you could focus on in your room at the inn. You were restless. It felt like you were waiting for something to happen. Your mind raced with thoughts of today, your mother, why you were even here, how you got roped into all of this. “I need air.” You spoke, as if to excuse yourself from your own thoughts. You sat yourself at the small table just outside the Inn door, between your room and the room adjacent. The moon shined brightly upon you. What you didn't expect was the room right next to yours to creak open the door and sit across from you.

left it on a cliffhanger because I didn't want the chapter to be too long! I hope all your holidays were wonderful, I'm very excited for the new year to start, prob gonna make it a resolution to finish this fic and also work on my writing skills otherwise lol. Thank you all for the love this fic is recieving As always, taglist is open by request through askbox.

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[ezgithechaotic]

The Parent Trap | Chapter Six; to love someone else

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

AU: The Parent Trap,  dad!harry

series summary:  Identical twins Benjamin and Edward, separated at birth and each raised by one of their biological parents, later discover each other for the first time at summer camp and make a plan to bring their wayward parents back together.

chapter summary; There are so many thing to say, but so little time for Harry and Y\N. 

author note; well hello there, ı’m back. It’s been really long and I’m so soryy about it. But I guess you guys are used to it. I will try to write the next chapter soon! Don’t be shy to send me a message if you would like to talk and be friends. I don’t bite, I promise! 

I’m sorry in advance if I have any fault. English is not my first language. My askbox is always open if you want to talk. Please leave a comment about what you think, love you.  

Taglist is open. Please send me an ask or comment if you want to be tagged! (22\30)

The Parent Trap Masterlist,  main masterlist 

Life had a funny way of bringing people together, and it had no interest in their desires. Sitting on one of the blue couches, a coffee in her hand, the only thing Y\N wanted to do was run away and never look back. But she wasn't eighteen anymore; she had learned that running from your problems only circled you back to them. So, she did what every reasonable person would do, stayed put. But now, seeing her hand shaking while holding the silver spoon, Y\N was questioning every decision she ever made that brought her to this point. 

So much for getting over him Y\N, well done. 

"You look good." 

The moment words left his mouth Harry cursed himself silently. You look good. Of course, she did. Is that what he all had? After almost nine years, Y\N still made him tongue-tied. He wasn't the Harry who stood in front of thousands of people to perform; he was a boy again, and he hated it. He was eighteen again, seeing his producer's sister and thinking, maybe he is capable of love. Despite feeling like it was yesterday, Harry wasn't eighteen anymore. He didn't have the opportunities to be stupid and in love. It had been a long time since Harry had lost that chance. Wishing he could say sorry and explain anything wasn't going to solve anything, and it surely wasn't going to bring him his old Y\N, who was naive enough to fall in love with a worldwide star. She knew better now. So, maybe the only thing he could come up with was you look good. 

Even though a moment of sadness passed her face, Y\N was quick to pull herself together. She put a kind smile on her face, the way she did when one of her customers made her feel tired, but she still had to keep going. Harry had seen that smile before when he told her he had to cancel one of their dates, again or when he told her that they couldn't be seen together in public.

"You look good too." 

There it was again, her velvet-like voice. Y\N had always amazed Harry; she could be kind to everyone no matter what, even when the person across her was the reason for her broken heart. Neither of them dared to ask about their sons and each other. How would you ask about someone you chose to leave behind? 

"Can I..." Y\N could feel her anxiety riling up. She took a deep breath and tried sitting more straight. "How is he?" 

Harry's heart almost skipped a beat. He couldn't decide if he was stupid to send him away. Would it be less awkward if Benjamin was there, or would it be a dread to explain to him why his mother was standing in the middle of their guest room? 

"Look, I know we had an agreement." Y\N sighed. Harry didn't realize how much time it took him to come up with an answer until she spoke. "I only want to know how he is."

"He's... Well, he's good." 

Harry apparently lost his ability to form any good sentences that day, but it looked like he was talking to a brick wall. Y\N left her cup on the coffee table, now leaning and resting her elbows on her knees. 

"I feel like I'm doing a terrible job." Eyes fixed on the ground and watery, head between her hands, Harry couldn't remember the last time he had seen Y\N so vulnerable. "Edward is the sweetest boy, I swear. He's the perfect kid any parent could ask for. And I feel like I'm the worst mother for tearing him apart from his brother, for not giving him the life he deserves. And the only thing I can think of is would he be happier if he were with you." She was up suddenly, pacing around the room. 

"And how much I missed from Benjamin's life. Will, he ever know me, or Edward ever know you? Will they ever know each other? Will they ever forgive us for what we did?" She stopped, looking at Harry.  She couldn't remember how long it had been since she looked into his green eyes. She wanted to keep going. Scream, shout, cry. But she stood there, looking at him, waiting like he could give her an answer. 

Will I ever forgive myself for letting you go?

Y\N wanted to keep asking, but there was no point. She stopped a tear before it could reach her jaw, quickly. "God, I don't know how long I've been holding that in." 

Harry was dying to apologize, to ask if she was missing him as much as he was missing her. He was dying to fall at her feet and beg for forgiveness. Instead, he sat there, like an idiot.

"We were young, Y\N. We did what we thought was best. Wrong or right, there is no undoing it right now." 

Hearing her name roll off his sweet mouth woke something inside Y\N. She had so many things she wanted to say but didn't know where to begin. Her mouth was frantically opening and closing back again, but nothing came out. 

-

Sarah and Mitch were just outside the room, trying to listen to the conversation. "I swear he's so stupid," Mitch whispered. "Just say something!" 

"Hey, be quiet. I'm trying to listen." 

Before Mitch could say anything, he heard key sounds coming from the front door. He quickly turned to Sarah. "Camille wasn't visiting today, right?" He was praying that it wasn't Camille, but there wasn't anyone outside them who had keys to Harry's house. 

"Shit." 

-

"I know you're a great mother, Y\N; I know that. And I know we did wrong things, but that doesn't mean you're failing."

"I feel like I am." Y\N was still standing there, her fingers fidgeting with her white shirt. She wanted to yell, how could he possibly know what kind of mother she was? He was never there. Harry stood up with a purpose to walk to Y\N and maybe to hold her. But his actions stopped when the door to the guest room opened.  

And there she was, Camille Rowe with all her glory. Blonde hair sitting on her shoulders, red-colored lips, and long lashes, she looked like she came straight from a runway. And Y\N tried with all her might, but she couldn't hate her. Even though her pants were horrible, even though she always used her beauty to get away with her cruelty. And, true, the diamond ring sitting on her finger was no help, but still, she had no hate for her. It wasn't Camille's fault that she was at his feet, basically asking Harry to fix everything because she was too vulnerable.

How Y\N wished she could love somebody else that wasn't Harry. She wished she could move on as he did. But it was stuck, her whole life was stuck since he left her without any explanation. Sometimes she would feel so ready to love someone else, to find anybody willing to take her this broken. She tried so hard, lying to herself, making everyone believe she got over him. She didn't listen to any of his songs, watch anything that could be related to him.  She was running away for the last nine years, not once stopping and looking back. Well, look where it brought her to now, sitting in the same room with him and his fiancee, who had no idea how much history they had. 

"I honestly love everything piece you do." Did she? Y\N couldn't tell if Camille knew everything or not. But if she did, she was a damn good actress. And Y\N was terrified of what could come after this if she didn't leave that house right now. "I would love it if you worked on my wedding dress." 

Y\N's whole world was upside down at that moment. Her hair on her neck stood on end. Her whole body was shivering; she didn't know if it was rage or hurt. Still, the smile came up again. 

"I'm afraid I'm too busy with my new collection." 

"Well, I will have to find someone else, I guess." Camille laughed, her hand sneaking up Harry's leg. Y\N was burning, her blood felt like it was boiling inside her veins. She needed to get out of there, quick. "But I'm so glad Harry could reach somebody. He had been looking for that cardigan for days, now. I thought he was going crazy." She laughed again, unlike everyone else in the room but, apparently she didn't care. 

"It was no problem, honestly. Jonathan is a dear friend of mine; I was just doing a favor." Y\N couldn't believe how calm she sounded. Maybe she should have chosen to be an actress. 

"I'm sure you're very busy, but we would love to see you at the wedding. Right, honey?" Camille turned to Harry, waiting for his approval. Harry quickly nodded as if he was waiting to agree to everything she was saying. "Of course." 

"I'll have to see, I guess." Y\N didn't know how much longer she could pretend like everything bathed in sunlight. So, she got up, ignoring the shaking in her legs. "I should go, my team is probably waiting for me."

"It was lovely to meet you." Camille held her hand out. Her grasp was hard like she was telling Y\N to start running and never look back again. Still, Y\N stood her ground, firmly taking her handshake and smiling. Her eyes meet Harry's for a second. There were so many things she wanted to say, but she didn't think anything that she could say would turn this around. So, she lied instead. 

"Congratulation on the engagement. You two make a lovely couple." 

Y\N couldn't believe she could lie so effortlessly, without any trembling in her voice. Still, shaking Camille's warm hand and seeing her next to Harry with a diamond on her hand made her want to get in her car and run away to somewhere very far away that she could throw up. So, she did that. 

TAGLIST: @yllwtaxi @meredithhuntt @soullessbabee @xoxoellll @2kayla64 @sometrueaffection @fromthedt @angelbabyivy @kennedywxlsh​​ @harrymarvel @kisskillstudio @pouge-h @sunsetcurve-h​ @odetostep​ @yhound​ @chubby-dumpling​ @swtxel​ @moonstarrnghtsky​ @blackfarrahfawcett​ @deeppoetryface @butterflycloss​ @revise-it-all 

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[say-narry]

Note: english isn’t my first language. Hope you all like it. Please, give me your opinion with a reblog, fav or a note in my askbox.

summary: She did a good work with H. Lambert and now, reader is the new Harry's stylish. Mr. Harry Styles need more than clothing creations from her.

Pairings: Harry Styles!famous x Reader!stylist

warnings: insinuations, dirt talk, explicit sex, old Harry's band members mention and more.

talk with me | masterlist

never have i ever

Guess who is the new stylish of the famous Harry Styles' band? It's me! After studying and specializing in fashion, my day of glory had arrived!

The pandemic had passed, Harry Styles was back on tour, and Harry Lambert had suffered a domestic accident where he fractured his ankle. I had been an intern at his agency and one thing led to another.

Everyone was very kind, nice despite being shy... Ah, Englishmen... Because I had joined the team, we decided to celebrate my admission and the return to tour at Harry's house.

I put on a black outfit with lace, it was my favorite kind of outfit because it fulfilled something sexy and comfortable, perfect for a more casual evening.

"But what's up, did you like the guys?" Sarah Jones asked close to my ear, she was already on her 3rd glass of drink in less than half an hour.

"Everyone is very nice and welcoming" I flashed a smile after repeating the action near her ear.

Sarah gave a thumbs up and turned the straw of the clear drink back to her mouth. Mitch was already high, he and Harry were dancing on a makeshift dance floor.

Harry was wearing a white printed shirt and dark bell-bottomed pants with some spikes on the side. His exotic style would give me a hard time, but I was up for the challenge.

I continued to sit in the armchair in her huge garden, hour I would go to the little bar and flirt with the muscular blond man making drinks.

"Stylist!" Harry shouted raising his arms, I cringed nervously. Not for the moment, but he was making me nervous.

"Boss!" I giggled and turned to him, also raising my arms entering his.

Harry's mansion was the opposite of what I had imagined, it was something more minimalist with the exception of the bright pink staircase, it was in shades of black, white and gray.

There was pleasant music in the background, everyone from the production was spread out in the garden with some armchairs in the colors I mentioned before.

"I wanted to say something about the outfit for tomorrow's show." Harry said scratching the back of his head next, if I trusted my super powers of distrust, he was lying and flirting with me.

I smiled dull and agreed "Anytime" I smiled drinking some of the juice I had picked up.

🎵🎵🎵🎵

"I think I could tighten up the cuffs a little more, what do you think?" Harry commented. We were in Harry's huge closet, he on a stool standing even taller than me as I examined the outfit.

It was a black and white striped suit with some gold details, it fit his body very well, Lambert and I had designed it and got it right.

"You need to see about the fit, because you stretch your arms out to play the guitar and do your little dances..." I commented unpretentiously, Harry stared at me with a sideways grin.

"You're absolutely right, (Y/N)..." He started to unbutton his suit, I arched my eyebrows feeling my cheeks heat up, I turned around putting away the tape measure that was around my neck. "I really like your outfit, especially the lace, it suits your skin tone." I heard Harry behind me and the sounds of the clothes being thrown onto the couch nearby.

"Thanks, it's my favorite kind of outfit." I commented closing the little box, I turned my body around and Harry was standing in front of me, wearing nothing but black boxer shorts and his tattoos showing.

He was totally gorgeous, his eyes sparkling, his body all designed and his fingers being adorned by rings was something that turned me on.

"It's become mine too..." Harry threw the words out before moving closer stealing a kiss.

Having the dream job and kissing Harry Styles? Was that a dream?

Because of our height difference, I lifted my body on my tiptoes and passed my arms around his neck, I felt his hands pulling me tighter against his body that emanated a pleasant warmth.

His fingers trailed down my spine, reaching the straps of my lacy cropedd, his lips still sucking mine with all the affection in the world, I pulled his gently leaving a few small bites.

"Come with me, babe" He pulled me through a door, which led directly into his huge gray room

Without delay, my body was lying on the huge soft king size bed and his body on top of mine. I could feel his covered member slapping against my thigh, Harry let out a few grunts that made me shiver.

"I've wanted you since the day Lambert introduced you..." Harry was distributing kisses down my neck, hourly running the tip of his tongue across it. I crossed my legs around his waist and felt him pressing his member between my legs. It was warm and wet.

Soon, Harry pulled, with a little difficulty, my white cropped top up, leaving my breasts showing. Shame was eating away at me, but his pupils had dilated, giving me the expression of a hunter.

Still staring at me, Harry ran the tip of his tongue over my nipple and then grabbed my left breast and sucked on it.

Fuck!

My body was almost on fire, I could feel my panties getting wet as I moved my legs. By the hour, I was stroking his curls, closing my eyes for his sucking and biting my lips.

"I won't be able to take much longer, babe," Harry commented leaving me with a kiss, soon his fingers were on the belt of my pants that had been thrown along with it on the floor of his room.

Harry's excitement was evident, but looking at his underwear made me long for him like never before. He stood in front of me, he ran to a cupboard behind him and came up with packets of condoms.

Yes, plural.

And with that, his boxer shorts were flying across the room, his cock bouncing with the tip facing up, it was glowing from the liquid of arousal. How I would like to suck him and taste him, but apparently his plans were to satisfy this desire.

I took off my white lace panties with a little difficulty since I was not thinking very well, considering that someone might miss us and he might be my boss somehow.

I held my panties up and soon Harry practically flew on top of me, his hot swollen tip was rubbing up and down my folds. We both let out guttural moans at the sensation.

"Oh God, (Y/N), you're soaking wet...all for me?" he whimpered, his hands digging into the mattress on either side of my head.

Before I could reason out a convenient response, Harry had put on a condom and was already partially inside my cavity.

It was surreal to feel his cock stretching inside me, a sensation I had never felt before. He was really good in bed, nothing compared to the college guys. He was gentle as he tried to go a little further, his throat let out delicious moans that I could listen to forever.

I moaned as he reached bottom, my legs again around his waist, begging him to go even deeper.

"All right, babe? You're fucking tight and hot!" He whispered, placing a kiss on each side of my cheeks.

"Yes!" I almost choked, "Please, H. It feels so good!"

Harry let out a small giggle, I felt his member pull out of me a little before entering again and again and again.

My moans became a little more audible as they blended with the sounds of our skins slapping against each other. With each thrust from Harry, his member was able to reach an undiscovered location that made my head spin and involuntary smiles formed on my lips.

It was all too splendid to be real. I forced myself to open my eyes and I just had the sight of heaven, Harry's mouth was ajar, his pink lips hung open in a perfect "O," shaggy curls framing his face. His bright eyes pierced yours with such love and admiration that it was almost irresistible.

For a small moment of courage, I put my hands on his face and pulled him into a kiss, Harry's lips were addictive. He reciprocated with more desire than I could imagine, his tongue filling my lips eagerly. His hips still bumped against mine, at times I squeezed him internally and felt Harry's arms waver.

With each thrust, which became faster and faster, my body's movements clamored harder and harder for him, making me pull him deeper inside me. His member kept slamming into that special place, eliciting the only moans of real pleasure from me. I wouldn't last long, and Harry knew it. Harry kept ripping compliments about me and my body "I want to have you all night, baby..." He would say so that only I could hear "So hot, so perfect, I want you so bad..."

I didn't know how to respond, so I just grabbed his hair tighter, pulling making him thrust harder against me, being fierce and relentless.

All my mind and body wanted was for this night to never end, and so did the sensations it caused.

I rolled over as hard as I could and it seemed that Harry had gone deeper, his moans became longer, he had picked up momentum by pulling the sheets off the bed and sinking his feet into it, I would be limp by tomorrow, but it would be worth it.

A trembling began to take over me, the butterflies in my stomach took a long walk there, my toes had curved, the liberating feeling was coming. My hands, which before scratched his back, went back to his scalp, which I pulled with each shock that passed through there.

I could feel Harry shivering too, my walls involuntarily tightened around his member, which made Harry face me and leave a hickey on my neck. "Come with me babe, I know you're almost there, let go..."

And that was all it took, I felt the euphoric feeling taking over my body quickly, the roller coaster descending, the chill in my stomach encompassing. I twisted my body on the bed, arching my spine and biting my lip. I shivered quickly and my legs fell open to my sides, Harry launched three more thrusts and lay over my body moaning into mine hearing a long delicious "Oooh". I could feel his cock thickening inside the condom and his hips working for the last few times.

🎵🎵🎵🎵

A month after our historic fuck, Harry and I had not exchanged another word. It had been a fuck, period. No one needed to know anything about it, nor did we need to prolong it.

I was sketching Harry's outfit for the next week, the tour was already in North America. I remember that the outfit that Harry had worn after that night, during the show, got me a notice in the newspapers and a call for Gucci. Yes, Gucci had called me, but I couldn't leave the team now, so they gave me the responsibility of designing the next suit that Harry would wear for their shoe promo, because according to them, I knew Harry from head to toe.

And I really did.

It was late at night, I was in my hotel room, until Mitch called me to a meeting in the private area.

There were the guys from the band, Jeff and Harry. I sat down next to Jeff and we started talking, I felt Harry looking at me while Mitch stroked his head that was lying on his shoulder.

I decided to just ignore it because it might be me. Jeff and I saw that we have some friends in common on Instagram, which sparked the conversation.

"I remember Natalie came out loaded when we played 'Never have I ever' , she was quiet of the group but had done things..." Jeff blinked putting away his laptop on a small table next to the couch.

"There you go, I think we should play!" Sarah pronounced and everyone nodded and I felt my hands sweat. I always got screwed in this game.

Jeff's assistant brought a bottle of Wiskey, we sat down on the rug in the room and Mitch picked up a bottle he had used.

Harry was on the opposite side from me, set up was me, Jeff on my right, Peter his assistant, Adam, Charlottie, Harry, Sarah and Mitch.

Peter had handed out cups and opened the huge bottle of whiskey.

I had taken only one which was from "I never had sex in college," until Mitch asked the crucial question.

"I've never had sex with anyone on the team!" He and Sarah toasted, drawing laughs from everyone, and Harry turned the liquid over in one gulp.

No, I wasn't going to throw it all away, not now and not ever. I crossed my legs and continued to hold the glass of liquid. I looked everywhere but at Harry, who was waiting for me to drink.

"Spin the bottle, Adam!" I suggested and the question mark in everyone's expression fell apart to form an exclamation point.

They knew now.

🎵🎵🎵🎵

The bottle game lasted three more rounds, Harry said he needed to rest and wished everyone a good night by shaking hands, except me.

Damned Aquarian.

I waited a bit and went after him as soon as he did, I ran to the elevator and up to the presidential suite. Harry was walking with his hands in the pockets of his black sweatpants and his jacket also black.

"Hazz..." I jogged down the long hallway and he even looked at me, swiping the card on his door opening it.

"What is it, (Y/N)?" A little breathless, I stopped at his door and he was staring at me now "After a month you decided to talk to me alone?"

Harry left the door open, and I entered the room and closed it. He had sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers intertwined and his legs spread.

"I thought it was all right!" I started in a mild tone, I didn't know how he would react. "You know Harry, I am a person who works for you, that was wrong!" I sighed moving closer "It was wrong for me and for you!"

His eyebrows frowned and he let out a sarcastic laugh "I know what's wrong or right, (Y/N), you don't have to tell me that." He shook his head scratching his chin "I could have sworn sneaking out after mind-blowing sex like that was a guy thing, but you've outdone yourself!"

My heart was beating fast, Harry had never been rude to anyone in front of me, I had been the first and it was scary.

"Was that right for you? I barely made the team and I'm already in your bed! Understand my side, Harry! I may have broken the contract or whatever!" I started pacing back and forth trying to explain myself.

"It was right yes, because after a while I felt something good besides some orgasm, I put all my emotions and feelings there because I thought you were different, you were the woman of my dreams! But I was very wrong, definitely!" Harry stood up and approached me "Do you really think I would let someone fire you for that? It was something concensual! I wanted you from the moment I saw you with Lambert! Everyone on my team knows my every quirk, they know I was and still am in love with you!" Harry shouted in his English accent, he wanted to kill me.

"You know what? Fuck you and your little story! If you wanted something, you'd fake it with me and not expose it to everyone on the team!" I roared in anger and walked out slamming the door to his room.

🎵🎵🎵🎵

I couldn't sleep a wink and it was after four o'clock in the morning. Harry's words were rattling around in my head, was he really feeling something for me? It hadn't been a one-night thing? But he should have said something! I am no guesser!

Already in bed, I decided to put on a podcast to go to sleep, but as soon as I unplugged my cell phone from the charger, Harry's name flashed on the screen in a call.

I rolled my eyes and rejected the call.

I plugged in my headphones and put on the Spotify podcast, but in less than 30 seconds it was interrupted.

I took a deep breath and accepted the call.

"What is it Harry?" I asked removing my headphones and placing the cell phone close to my face.

"Babe, I need you." I heard his mellifluous voice. "You weren't wrong, I couldn't have done that, but I swear, I swear..." he repeated emphasizing, which was normal since he probably started drinking again after I left his room "That I imagined you would flip that shot and I would kiss you in front of everyone like I've been dreaming about for the last thirty days..." Harry sobbed and I felt slightly guilty, he imagined it would be a movie scene...

"Harry..." I got out of bed and pulled on my robe "You should have sat down and talked to me, I'm not like them, I know how to talk and get a yes or no." I tied the robe around my waist, walked to the door and unlocked it.

In front of me was a teary-eyed Harry, his face flushed with a beak. "Forgive me! Can we talk?"

"Later." I pulled him into my room.

Within minutes, I had him pinned to me by jumping into his lap, Harry sat on the bed and pressed my waist against his.

"I'm going to tell everyone you're mine!" He growled slowly biting my neck and jaw.

My hands and his worked together, Harry sat in the middle of the bed right after putting on a condom, I sat naked on his lap feeling his cock slowly entering me, I loved him and wanted him too, I wished he would be fast and strong like last time.

"Faster, Hazz," I moaned, my eyes rolling back as my nails slid up Harry's arms and down the back of his neck and back.

His head was propped between my breasts as he kept up the effort to go deep, burying his cock in me in more violent strokes.

On an impulse, Harry laid me down on the bed, his right arm supporting his body while the other was pulling his member out of me, rubbing the swollen head against my slippery spot. He knew how to tease me very well.

"Oh, (Y/N)... I've dreamed every night of this pussy!" he murmured "Of my cock drowning in it, taking all your sanity, leaving you only pleasure!"

His hand landed on my thigh and he changed the angle of his thrusts, making a pornographic moan come from my lips.

He had done it again.

"Is this the spot, baby?" he asked, his voice deep as he concentrated on hitting that spot over and over again, the pleasure was overwhelming and all I could do was nod, encouraging Harry to continue.

"I love having you like this, love." Harry moaned, looking up into my face in complete pleasure with each thrust he launched.

His cock was reaching places inside me I never knew existed and points I never knew could cause so much pleasure.

Like last time, my body shook a little harder and more deliciously, as Harry said the word 'mine' with each thrust, ending our reconciliation sex.

Harry had his body on top of mine, my legs still entwined around his waist, my heart was pounding hard, my breathing ragged, and a giant fatigue falling over me.

"Babe?" Harry called out to me and I just shook my head with my eyes closed. "You'll need to have two glasses of wiskey."

He left a kiss on each of my breasts, I pulled his face to me giving him a lingering kiss, I opened my eyes and stared into his "I'll take a whole bottle if I have to."

I loved Harry's smile, but I loved Harry's post fuck smile even more.

talk with me | masterlist

[ggukkiedae]

We Won This Round

notes: just a glimpse of markhan and 2sun dynamics and what they were up to as sm rookies (and hannah and hyuck being sm’s worst trainee nightmares). and yes, hannah and yoonmi are friends, but i won’t dive too deep into how they became friends.

i hope you enjoy, and remember that my askbox and pms are always open! id love to receive any type of question, comment, suggestion, reaction, or request :3

remember that conversations written in italics are spoken in english! (hannah and mark switch between the languages a lot)

-c

Hannah was peacefully going over her Chinese notes when she heard a knock on the door to her room. She looked up to find Herin smiling at her.

“Unnie, Mark oppa is here,” she told her, “I think he said something about a weekly cafe trip. You guys still do that?”

“It’s tradition for us, Herin,” Hannah smiled at the younger girl, “Tell him I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

When Herin nodded and left, Hannah started to fix up all her notes and smiled. She tucked her notebook and pens away. It’s been a while since she had gone to the little cafe. She had extra lessons last week, so she didn’t get to go with Mark and Donghyuck. As she was debating whether or not she should just go to the cafe to study in her free time, she felt someone sit next to her on her bed.

“You’re taking quite long there,” Mark said in a posh accent.

“Mark, you can’t just go in here,” Hannah hit his arm, “Goeun unnie lives in this room, too. And also that’s literally not my accent.”

“It’s the closest I can get,” Mark laughed, “but come on. I want a watermelon shake.”

Hannah laughed at that. Mark stood up, picked up her jacket from the desk, and threw it at her. She rolled her eyes but slipped the jacket on and followed Mark out the dorm. They walked in comfortable silence for a while until Mark brought up something Goeun had told him.

“Tell me,” Mark began, “Goeun told me you’ve been avoiding coming to the dorm early again. Why?”

“Because I don’t fit in,” Hannah said simply, “I love the girls and all, but you know I’m only really close to Yerim unnie and Goeun unnie.”

“Still?” Mark asked.

“Can’t change that,” Hannah shrugged, “I’m a lot closer to you guys than to the girls. Maybe it’s because of how I grew up?”

“Maybe,” he nodded, “but I worry about you sometimes. My mom tells me that a girl needs girl time with close girl friends.”

“I have Yoonmi and Goeun unnie and Yerim unnie,” Hannah counted, “besides, I don’t mind having only a few close girl friends. As long as I know they’ll stay with me, I’m good. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“You’re practically my little sister,” Mark pointed out just as they arrived at the cafe, “I naturally worry.”

“That’s nice of you,” Hannah smiled at him before clapping once, “I want a vanilla milkshake. Thanks for paying, big brother. I’ll go get a table.”

She quickly walked away and ignored Mark’s playfully annoyed calls at her. She settled herself down onto a corner table and checked her phone. No messages. Well, one message, but it was from Donghyuck telling her that the Mickey Mouse Club writers agreed to their idea and agreed to not tell their manager. She sent back a quick excited emoji when Mark sat down beside her.

“Why are you sitting next to me?” she asked.

“Because why not?” Mark noted, “Was that Yoonmi?”

“Nah, it was Hyuck,” she tucked her phone away and smiled at the thought of her already-debuted friend, “The writer agreed to our idea apparently. Why? You wanna see Miya?”

“You two are gonna get scolded,” Mark ignored the latter half of her statement, “again.”

Hannah just rolled her eyes. Mark knew that she and Donghyuck were planning to go against the manager’s instructions of sitting still during their duet. The song was called Can I Have This Dance for god’s sake. It would be weird for them to sing it while just sitting down. That’s why, they spent last night in the practice room just getting the gist of what they could do.

“In our defense,” she began, “we have permission. Manager oppa just doesn’t know.”

“You and Hyuck were born to make Goeun and I suffer, I swear to god,” Mark dropped himself onto the seat next to hers.

“Uh, you mean just you,” Hannah corrected, “We’re good to Goeun unnie. Your reactions are just fun to watch.”

Mark kicked the back of her chair, which made her kick the back of his. They burst into laughter

“You can’t hurt me,” she laughed, “I can just tell Miya you have the biggest crush on her.”

“I do not have a crush on her,” Mark defended himself, “I just think she’s a good friend, and I admire her musical skills.”

“Sure, Marky,” Hannah said in a teasing way, “I totally believe you don’t—“

“Don’t what?”

At the sound of the third voice, Hannah and Mark turned around to see Donghyuck standing right there. Mark smiled at him until he remembered what Hannah was about to say and turned to her to give her a look.

“Don’t think you and I can get away with altering our stage directions,” Hannah said smoothly.

“It’s a lot easier than you think,” Donghyuck noted, seemingly not noticing Mark’s slight panic. To be fair, he was generally just awkward, so this wasn’t really unusual.

Hannah could see Mark let out a sigh before he stood up and did his handshake with Donghyuck. Hannah then gave him a high five.

“I think I want a hug,” Donghyuck pouted.

“I don’t do hugs,” Hannah looked at Donghyuck pointedly, “and why are you late?”

“You’re boring,” Donghyuck hugged her anyway, “and I’m actually early. It’s only 12:20.”

“You’re telling me I could have been studying my Chinese for ten more minutes and still not be late?” Hannah accused Mark. He shrugged as Donghyuck settled across from them. She frowned and kicked his chair once again before turning to Donghyuck.

“So we clear for tomorrow?” she asked him, “No one’s gonna shout at us?”

“I don’t see why you worry about anyone yelling at us,” Donghyuck chuckled, “You and I get scolded a lot, and they never yell at us.”

“I just don’t want to be yelled at,” Hannah said as their drinks arrive. She quickly took the vanilla milkshake and took a big sip of it.

“You never get yelled at, though,” Mark pointed out while stirring his shake.

“Hold on,” Donghyuck straightened in realization, “that’s true! I never get yelled at when it’s you being scolded with me.”

“I’m just lucky,” Hannah smirked, “and you guys are losers.”

“Yah!”

“Hannah noona!”

Hannah looked up from her textbook and watched as Jisung ran towards her. She looked at the wall clock. It was 1pm meaning she only had thirty minutes left of lunch break. Did she really spend the first hour of lunch reviewing her Chinese? Jisung immediately sat down next to her and looked at her notes.

“Noona, what are you doing?”

“I was studying,” Hannah smiled and began packing up her notebooks, “but I think I should go and eat lunch now. Did you need anything?”

“Well I— Not that I need something— I just,” he buried his face in his hands, making Hannh laugh and ruffle his hair.

“Cute,” she pinched his cheek, “did you want company?”

“Actually, Donghyuck hyung sent me,” Jisung rubbed the back of his neck, “He says you guys need to do a mic test for your duet.”

“Alright then,” she placed her bag on the side, “thanks, Sungie. I’ll be right there.”

She watched in amusement as Jisung smiled and ran out the door back to everyone else. She smoothed down her blouse and walked onto the main set. She looked around for a bit, confused because she couldn’t find Donghyuck. Well, confused before all of a sudden she was in a headlock.

“Yah, Lee Donghyuck,” Hanna laughed while trying to get out of his hold.

“Yah, Hannah Lee,” he mocked her, emphasizing on an American accent. He let her go and handed her a mic. She took it, and they went to sit on the bench prepared for them.

“You ready?” Donghyuck asked her.

“Usually I’d say yes, but manager oppa already scolded us twice today, and I haven’t eaten lunch yet.”

“Wanna dance?” Hannah raised an eyebrow at him.

“That’s literally our plan,” she laughed at him, “Did you really have to ask?”

“Of course,” Donghyuck winked at her and stood up right as the music started, “I am a true gentleman.”

He held out a hand for her, and she relented while shaking her head, “A child is what you are.”

She took his hand, and he pulled her up. They ran through the entire song while pretending to waltz and running around on set, much to the staff's amusement and their managers’ displeasure. She looked at the one who would always scold her and Donghyuck and then turned to face Donghyuck. She knew he had seen the manager’s face, too. By the end of the little show they put on, the manager walked towards them.

“Donghyuck, Hannah,” he began, “how many times do I have to tell you to tone yourselves down. Especially the way you two interact! You can’t be so linked with each other.”

“No, it’s okay,” a producer approached, “let them. We gave them permission, and it just further shows how close the kids are. Now, you two, go and get yourselves fixed in the waiting room. We film in thirty minutes.”

Hannah looked at the producer with a grin. She exchanged glances with Donghyuck before they ran off together to the backstage area. They were laughing along the way. They knew that the producer had a stronger say on what could and couldn’t be done on the show. They knew that they had won this round against the company.

[clumsyclifford]

just finished writing this and realized how long it got oh jeez i am so sorry. i promise it is just me rambling about nothing and does not require a lot of thought.

i made a playlist of r5's entire discography and am listening to it (in order) because there is something wrong with me. if only it had their very first ever ep on it (ready set rock ep you may have been slight garbage but i don't love you any less for it). oh god i realized i fucked up and didn't add the songs by "ross lynch and r5" from the austin & ally soundtrack. i'm already three songs into louder and they would have been between louder and say you'll stay. what do i have to do is actually one of r5's best songs and i'm pretty sure i remember ross calling it one of his favs fairly recently?? which was so valid of him. anyways. this is now an r5 song ranking. i'm bored and avoiding doing assignments. i'm going to name my top 10 r5 songs off the top of my head. source: me trying to remember every song they've ever released.

no. 1: easy love. nothing comes close. my fav song they ever made. they haven't made anything that even compares since (this is /hj. tde has some valid songs).

no. 2: wishing i was 23. what do you mean i only love this song because of my nostalgia bias no i don't.

no. 3: what do i have to do? i will not elaborate i do not know why i adore this song as much as i do it's just a cute song.

no. 4: repeating days. THE END. THE FUCKING END AFTER THE SONG ENDS THE "all i've got is cheap wine" PART ross sounds so vulnerable and him with just the guitar makes me so :(((((( it's so gorgeous that part makes the whole song and that makes it top 3 for me.

no. 5: i want u bad. THAT SONG FUCKS LIVE. I DO NOT WANT TO THINK ABOUT THE FACT THAT I WILL PROBABLY NEVER SEE IT LIVE AGAIN. (speaking of concerts i can't believe you bought concert tix and fucking forgot??? that is actually so fucking funny bella it made me laugh i will not lie)

no. 6: dark side. so so valid of them. it just fucks. it's so good. it makes u want to dance. u named a fic after a lyric from it which was so valid.

no. 7: did you have your fun? i love this song. no i will not elaborate. it is a sexy song. what's that one lyric from it that's hot. "love me, leave me, left me numb" some lyrics you love for no particular reason and for me that's one of those lyrics.

no. 8: f.e.e.l.g.o.o.d. this has alwayysss been one of my favs by them. since it dropped. some lore about it: the like crowd yelling that's in it they recorded live at a festival they played and i remember there being hype about this being an unreleased song when they had the crowd chanting "f-e-e-l-g-o-o-d" with no explanation. also another fun fact is that the final version of this is just a demo?? source: my slightly faulty memory remembering ross saying something about some demos being so good that you keep them as they are and it later being revealed this was the song he was talking about.

no. 9: i know you got away. sexy song. they released a vocals only version of it (that has apparently since been deleted?? i went to look for it on youtube and couldn't find it?? wtf r5) that has stuck with me ever since.

no. 10: loud. but more specifically the acoustic or live version. this was their encore song that they played to end every show. i MISS IT. it holds a special place in my heart.

honorable mentions: hurts good (a good song and THEIR LAST THEY EVER RELEASED VV SAD), wild hearts (fun fact almost picked a lyric from this song as my senior quote till i found out they didn't write this song), fallin' for you (YOU LIKE MISMATCHED SOCKS WITH POLKA DOTS YOU LIKE YOUR PIZZA COLD I THINK THATS HOT i never saw this song live and i'm still fucking pissed about it ok), do it again (it's such a sweet song :(((( "listen to the airplanes as we count the stars" gives me the same vibes as six feet under the stars), things are looking up (generally just a cute song!! this whole ep is just very good and very cute!! when i saw it live one time during the bridge ross was like "everyone shut up this is my favorite part >:(" and that was so valid of him) i can't say i'm in love (it's just a fun song!! it was a bonus track on sln from another country), trading time (this is the only song from the new addictions ep that i listed and u know what i'm Not sorry)

ok. i will spare you and stop rambling. other honorable mentions: if you have never listened to cool girl (feat. the driver era) by new beat fund i highly recommend. it's an okay song but it was one of the first songs released after they rebranded as tde and includes ross saying motherfucker with his whole chest. i will never again feel what i felt the first time i heard that song having listened exclusively to them as r5 whose songs they couldn't curse in because they were on a disney label.

in conclusion. i miss r5. ross saying fuck is kinda hot. i listened to the entirety of louder while writing this. i am sorry to dump this in your askbox. i still have multiple assignments to do and should probably go to sleep at a decent time. it feels fitting to finally stop writing while easy love is on. when i was 12 and this ep came out i thought "dirtbags" was a curse word and was scared to sing it. they changed it to "douchebags" live.

that's all. goodbye. have a lovely night. listen to r5's discography for clear skin thriving crops etc etc. sorry to lovepost about them in your askbox i only have (1) former r5 mutual that i still talk to (a very interesting but long story. she's the gemini bestie) and she will only lovepost about r5 once in a while. feel free to ignore my ask calling cody bellinger hot i was a different person when i wrote it i am now a changed woman. LOVE YOU MWAH - bella but she misses r5

hi hi im going to answer this with minimal thought because im tired but i dont wanna leave this sitting in my inbox forever but for the record all your r5 opinions are valid. ok lets go

1. easy love slaps ive heard it a couple times over the last few days (it played in the car today while i was driving sam n meghna to the airport) and it does fuck i can see why it's your fave

2. i do not know this song

3. A BOP A WHOLE FUCKIN BOP

4. oh i do love repeating days great choice i would have to hear it a few more times to get it in my head but i remember really liking it when i listened to the album it's on

5. also a banger and i'm glad my concert tickets situation made you laugh it made me laugh too imagine being this useless gldskfjgs

6. DARK SIDE FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKS GIVE IN TO YOUR DARK SIDE YOUR DARK SIDE IIIIIIIII SEE THE WAY YOU LOOK AT MEEEEE

7. ANOTHER FUCKING BANGER this one is probably among my favorite r5 songs maybe top 5 LOVE ME LEAVE ME LEFT ME NUMB (guitar moment) DID YOU HAVE YOUR FUUUuuuuUUUUUNNNNN i feel the same way about this lyric as you

8. oh shit thats pretty cool i dont know this song tbh i cant remember how it goes i know ive heard it once or twice but. id have to listen to it again so i will keep you posted on that

9. i do not know this one either

10. interesting choice for top ten but i support you, this song fucks and ever since you mentioned it it's been in my subconscious and randomly getting stuck in my head i think i need to listen to it to get it out. it does hit ur right

11. i don't know hurts good or wild hearts or things are looking up or i can't say i'm in love or trading time well enough to say anything about them. but i really like fallin for you it's one of those cheap fun songs but emphasis on fun, and also really like do it again one day ill write a fic based on that song

i have not listened to cool girl i put it on my to listen playlist so hopefully i remember to listen to it soon ill be honest though i dont think im prepared for ross lynch saying motherfucker w his whole chest like i think itll take me out. so. anyway. i hope you got your assignments done. thank you for the r5 lovedump feel free to drop in anytime with more

[moriavis]

My first prompt to you! Um um okay -thinks- OH, uh, if you'd like, Coldflash, biker gang!au? 50s, modern, or futuristic! Up to you ^-^ Maybe they're in opposing gangs and form an alliance? Maybe Barry's their science guy who Len takes an interest in? Maybe Barry's a new meta that the Rogues gang take an interest in recruiting? -flails- I dunnoooo >.

Ha. Ha. OMG, so this has apparently been sitting in my askbox for two years I’M SO SORRY.

Do I have more prompts that are two years or older? Yes. Yes, I do. I’m trying, guys.

For now, I hope you all enjoy this one! Welcome to a No Powers AU where motorcycles are only mentioned sparingly, and everything is PG. ^^; (Also on AO3)

~*~

Everyone in Central City knew to leave the Rogues out of the races. They were intense, unpredictable, and you were more likely to crash your bike trying to avoid their stunts than lose the pink slip fair and square. They brought too much attention to the scene. 

Even Cisco agreed, and he was so into Lisa that aliens could see it from space.

Despite the unanimous exclusion, Barry wasn't entirely surprised when the Rogues showed up at the Friday races anyway. "Told you they wouldn't stick to the ban," Oliver murmured.

Barry shrugged. "The Lian Yu team didn't like it either, but they learned." 

He folded his arms over his chest and cocked his head to the side as he counted them. Lisa, of course, with an uncustomary sulk on her narrow, gorgeous face; Mardon, easily recognizable with his visor popped up; Rosa Dillon, popping gum loudly as she inspected her nails.

Sara swaggered up to Barry and stood at Oliver's side. "You want me to take care of them?"

Barry shook his head. "No. They're a Central group. They'd be offended if outsiders read them the rulesheet."

Sara snorted and rolled her eyes. "Territorial bastards, all of you."

Barry laughed and ran his hand through his hair. "We're not all that bad. Square up. We're doing this the right way." 

The three of them gathered together in a triangle, and Sara said, "On three. One. Two. Three."

Oliver beat Barry's paper with scissors, and Barry scowled good-naturedly as he turned to Sara for the second round and lost again, rock to paper.

"Cheer up, kiddo," Sara said, reaching up on tiptoes to ruffle Barry's hair. "They wouldn't have wanted us to be the ones to send them away."

Barry sighed and turned to the Rogues, who—bizarrely—had stayed back patiently, as if they were waiting for someone.

Barry straightened his shoulders, took a deep breath, and walked toward Lisa. "We don't want any trouble with you."

"If it were up to me, we wouldn't be here." Lisa folded her arms over her chest, her glare intensifying.

Barry folded his arms over his chest. "It's not up to you?"

The sound of an engine cut through the air, and he turned to meet the newcomer—his bike was a gorgeous and sleek Ducati, painted in blues and silvers. Barry was impressed despite himself. Whoever the newcomer was sure had a sense of style.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Lisa's scowl morph into an amused grin, and then the new rider kicked the stand down and pulled off their helmet. 

Barry's breath caught in his throat. He was frozen, catapulted instantly back to the past, where he was fifteen and everything he wanted was encapsulated in the man next door who always had motorcycle grease on his hands.

His palms were sweaty. He wasn't even wearing his good jeans, and he was going to kill Lisa.

"Hey, Lenny." Barry's voice was weak and thready, but he didn't even care, butterflies coming to life in his stomach with a surge of nerves. The narrow blue hazel eyes. The smirk. Oh, god, he'd started going silver.

Leonard gave Barry a slow once over, and Barry gravitated a step or two closer. "It's been a minute, kid."

Barry licked his lips, his heart pounding like a drum. "Yeah, it's… I didn't even know you were back."

"Trainwreck's been blowing up my phone over this racing gig you've got going on. Thought I'd come see what the excitement was all about." He got off his bike and dangled his helmet off one of the handlebars before he turned his attention back to Barry. He stepped closer, and his voice was low in a way that sent shivers down Barry's spine when he spoke again. "Maybe you and I can come to an arrangement."

Barry jerked his head to point out Oliver and Sara. "The arrangement has to make sense to them, too."

Leonard shot them a dismissive glance and fastened his attention back on Barry. "Let 'em race. I'll keep them under control, and anyone who gets too frisky is out. Cross my heart." He drew an X over his heart and smiled, the slow curl of his lips leaving Barry reeling.

Without a word, Barry turned on his heel and walked back over to Oliver and Sara. 

"Rawr." Sara arched her eyebrow. "You okay there, Barry? You look like you've been hit by a truck."

"Whatever he said to you, the answer's no." Oliver said, crossing his arms over his chest and glowering past Barry.

Barry gathered himself together with a small shake of his head. "He said that if we let them race, he'll keep them following the rules. He'll take care of anyone who doesn't."

"And you believe him?" Sara asked.

Barry nodded. "Lisa and Len were my neighbors growing up. Lisa's a bit out there, but Len kind of keeps her under control. Mostly."

"Mostly." Oliver frowned. "Yeah, that's exactly what I like to hear about the group that almost got us all arrested."

"I trust him, Ollie," Barry said firmly, narrowing his eyes. "I mean, yeah, chances are Lisa dragged him back to Central because I'm more likely to listen to him, but it'll backfire. She hates being under his thumb."

"That'll be interesting," Sara said, shooting another look toward the Rogues.

"Fine," Oliver spat. "Fine. But only because I trust you." Barry beamed at Oliver, who scowled for good measure and turned back to his bike. 

Now that they all agreed, Barry went back to Len. "Okay. They can rejoin. Keep your promise, or they'll be ejected permanently this time."

Axel whooped, punching Mark's shoulder in excitement, and Lisa shook her head, sauntering up to Len's side. "Guess I should've pulled out the big guns months ago."

Barry pursed his lips as he looked at Lisa, but he couldn't find anything else to say, so he just shook his head. "No funny business this time, okay?"

Lisa smiled another one of her enigmatic smiles, and then turned back to the other Rogues. "We're free to mingle, ladies and gentlemen. Have fun, and remember to behave."

It was going to be a disaster.

Barry sighed softly to himself and headed back to his own bike. It took a second for him to realize that Len was walking along with him. Barry turned just enough to see Len without stopping. "Are you racing?"

"Depends," Len said easily, giving Barry that crooked smile that he loved way too much. "Is the Scarlet Speedster going to be on the track?"

"Ugh, you've heard that one, too?"

Len shrugged. "I like the alliteration."

"Well, the answer is no," Barry said firmly. "Not tonight, at least." He steered them away from the noise of the crowd as the races began in earnest, and stole another look. "How long are you staying?"

"Haven't decided yet. 'M staying long enough to make Lisa regret asking me to come back." They laughed together at that, and then fell quiet, watching as Shawna won her race against Zari. Len cleared his throat, and Barry startled, embarrassed that he was so hyper aware of Len, even after all these years. "Lisa told me you went to college in Keystone."

"Uh. Yeah. Aced my classes, too."

"Should I be hurt that you didn't visit me?"

Barry rubbed his hand over his face. Fifteen minutes, and Len was already pulling out all the embarrassing feelings he'd had when he was sixteen. His flustered, agitated longing. He stole another look at Len and promptly flushed when he realized Len was looking at him. 

"You know why," he whispered. "You know why I didn't visit."

Len stared at Barry for another long minute, and then nodded once, short and sharp. "Okay."

"Okay," Barry echoed, although he didn't really know what okay was in this context. "Great. It's been nice seeing you again."

"Are you still living with the Wests?"

Barry startled again and fought the urge to just throw up his hands and walk away. This was stupid. He was stupid. He was supposed to be done with this a decade ago, and it was freaking impossible, how Leonard Snart just breezed into his life and made him a skittish teenager all over again. "No, I've… I've got my own place."

Len nodded again, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "Do you remember the stink eye Joe used to give Lisa when I brought her over to play with you and Iris?"

"No," Barry said honestly. "Joe was never the one I was looking at."

Len swallowed and looked down at his feet. "Barry, I—"

"Can we just—not do this now?" Barry interrupted, running his hand through his hair as he looked away, toward the next race that was setting up. "I'm embarrassed and we're in public, and I don't want to talk about anything tonight."

"Okay," Len agreed, and Barry was grateful that he could at least follow the flow of his thoughts this time. "Give me your address, and I'll come around. Wednesday, maybe?"

Something blue-screened in Barry's head, and he heard himself say, "Sure. Bring dinner. Pizza or something."

Leonard shot him a cautious—almost grateful?—look and nodded. "I can do that. Wednesday, then."

There was a low droning in Barry's ears as he held out his hand for Len's cell and accessed his contacts. It grew into static when Barry realized Len still had his old number programmed, and he wondered with a brief flash of alarm if he was just going to have a panic attack right here.

Somehow, shockingly, he managed to give Len his phone back and then walked away, toward the other side of the long stretch of road they currently occupied, all like he was a perfectly normal person who knew where his body was. Someone handed him a beer, and he twisted the top off, staring at Len from a distance. His focus was intent on the current race, and Barry struggled to take a calm breath.

"He could pick me up without breaking a sweat," he breathed.

"You better believe it," Lisa said with a laugh, and Barry jolted back to himself in surprise. "You're still a beanpole, honey."

"I can't believe you told him to come back, Lise. He should've had nothing to do with this."

Lisa pouted, twirling her long, dark hair around her finger. "Can't a girl feel bad? It's an apology."

Barry turned to face her, a frown pulling at his mouth. "It's a fucking mind game, and I don't appreciate it."

Lisa dropped the pout. "Maybe I want you guys to be happy together. Ever think of that?"

Barry raked his hand through his hair. "If you brought him back just for me, I'd say you're crueler than I thought you were."

Lisa raised her hand to his shoulder, pausing when he shrugged her off before she even touched him. "Barr, listen—"

"I'm fresh out of ears tonight," Barry admitted. "I'm going to head home. Just… please. Stop trying to help me, okay?"

Lisa's mouth twisted into another small pout, but she nodded and stepped away.

Barry caught Oliver''s eye and silently let him know he was going, and then he went to his bike, unclipping his helmet and straddling the seat with a surge of relief. There was nothing like being on his Triumph—maybe some time out on the road would help clear his head.

He revved the engine once and spun around to face the road. Another second, and it was just him and his bike and the asphalt beneath his wheels.

No Leonard Snart needed. 

~*~

Come Wednesday, of course, he was a wreck.

Barry woke up too early, a headache pounding in his temples and a message from STAR Labs about one of the laboratory samples he'd processed the day before. Running into work at least shifted his anxiety from Len into a more tolerable work anxiety, and he was able to focus on the lab's backlog of testing samples.

Around six, he got his first text from Len, a simple: Name the time and your pizza toppings.

He needed time to get home and take a shower, and he was about to ask for pepperoni when it occurred to him that it was pork. 8pm and a veggie lovers?

You remembered. :)

Barry took a deep breath and pressed the phone to his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut. That little smiley face was going to end him. 

Of course. See u later.

Concentration thoroughly shot, Barry turned to some paperwork that needed to be filed and used the rest of his shift to get caught up. He skipped out a little early so he could take a shower before Len came over, and then burned some of his restless energy by picking up around his apartment.

At 8pm exactly, there was a knock on the door. Barry counted to five so he didn't seem so eager, and then answered it. Len was dressed down, in dark jeans and one of those moisture-wick long-sleeved shirts, and a chill of sheer want raced down Barry's spine. Just as Len promised, he was balancing a pizza box and a six pack of beer in his hands.

"Hey," Barry said, like he wasn't falling apart at the seams just from seeing Len again.

"Hey." The corner of Len's mouth curled, and Barry stepped aside to let him in.

"I'll get plates," he said unnecessarily, and he stole a minute to get himself under control as he got plates and napkins. "Get it together, Barry. You can spend one night catching up with him."

Hardly satisfied, Barry grabbed everything and headed back into the living room.

The first few minutes were quiet as they got their food and drinks and started in. Barry was trying to avoid looking at Len without looking like he was trying to avoid looking at Len, and he wasn't entirely sure how successful he was.

After two slices of pizza were eaten in the awkward silence, Len cleared his throat. "What is it that the Central City Citizens do?"

Barry grinned, relaxing against the couch as Len brought up a safe topic. "We do coast to coast drives, some charity. I really want to become a local chapter of BACA, but we have to ride with them for a year before they'll consider us."

Something in Len's face lightened as Barry talked, and he looked down at his plate, fiddling with a bit of leftover crust. "So you don't participate in turf wars."

Barry rolled his eyes. "Len. Of course I don't. We have a zero tolerance policy on drug running and murder. The Rogues even mostly agreed. The races we have aren't exactly legal, although it's a good way to blow off steam and kind of have fun together."

Len nodded, setting his plate on the coffee table and turning his full attention back on Barry. "What got them pushed to the sidelines?"

Barry set his plate down and mirrored Len's position, resting his arm on the armrest of the couch as he curled his foot beneath him. "They're thieves and sometimes they make bad decisions that reflect on the rest of us. Mark and Axel decided to rob a bank and go on a high speed joy ride. Got the attention of the CCPD, and then led them almost directly to the rest of us."

Len frowned. "Looks like they aren't serving any time."

Barry shook his head. "Lise has contacts with some lawyers around town. She got it thrown out of court on a technicality. Which, fine, I don't have any hard feelings. But I will stop their behavior from jeopardizing the rest of us."

Len smiled again and nodded in agreement. "I'm proud of you, kid."

"I'm not a kid," Barry said fiercely, meeting Len's eyes. "And I didn't do it for you."

"Touche." Len cocked his head, turning on the laser-focus that Barry had sometimes envied when it wasn't directly pointed at him. "How are you, Barry?"

"I'm fine." Barry met Len's gaze straight on—he wasn't a child anymore, and he wasn't afraid of looking at someone just because he was attracted to them. "Iris is a reporter now. Lisa still comes over for Sunday dinner at the West house. You're the one who left."

"I didn't leave because of you—"

"It sure felt like it!" And there it was, the hurt and embarrassment bubbling to the surface like a lanced wound, the way it always did when he thought of Leonard. "I told you how I felt, and you were practically gone in a week."

Len sighed. "It was bad timing, but I can't say I was sorry about the way things worked out. You were sixteen. What was I supposed to do?"

Barry bolted to his feet. "I love you!" The words dropped like stones between them, leaving ripples of shock in their wake. "Loved." Barry's voice cracked, and he desperately hoped that lightning would just strike him dead where he stood. "I loved you. You could have at least said goodbye. I'd earned that, at least."

Len looked away from Barry, staring at the carpet with a distant, thoughtful look in his eye. "You're right. You did. I'm not perfect, Barry. Sometimes people just screw up."

Barry sighed and turned away from Len, crossing his arms over his chest. "I thought I was over it. That I was over you. And you just waltz back in and turn me inside out like it's nothing."

"It's not nothing." The couch creaked as Len stood, and he took hold of Barry's elbow, turning him around with a gentle touch. His eyes were so dark. 

Barry swallowed and struggled to find his courage. "Don't look at me like that. Not unless you're going to do something about it."

Len stared at Barry and raised his hand, brushing his fingertips against Barry's cheek. It sent shivers racing down his neck, goosebumps rising against his skin. "You're always so impatient."

"I know," Barry admitted. "It's something I've been trying to work on." His fingers twitched at his side. "And maybe there's nothing between us. Maybe it's all been built up in my head for so long that real life can't possibly match up—"

Len pressed his fingers to Barry's mouth, halting the flow of words. "I'm going to kiss you now, if that's okay."

Barry responded by stepping into Len's space, curling his fingers around Len's shoulders and pulling him in. It shouldn't have been good—their lips met a little off center, and Len tasted like pizza and beer, but then Len's hand settled into a solid weight against the small of Barry's back, drawing him in, and the heat of Len's body soaked into Barry in a way that made him want to melt.

Len pulled away first, and Barry licked his lips, dropping his head to Len's shoulder in defeat. "Shit," he said wretchedly.

"What?" Len asked, cupping his hand over Barry's nape and stroking the sensitive skin with his thumb.

"I'm so into you," Barry confessed, and he startled when Len began to laugh.

"Really?" Len's voice was rich with warmth and surprise. "When were you going to tell me? I had no idea."

"I can't believe you're mocking me!" Barry protested, raising his head to glare at Len, who pulled him in and pressed a gentle kiss to Barry's jaw that made him melt again. "You're not fair." He turned his face to try to steal another kiss, and paused. "We can't tell Lisa about this."

"We'll play it cool," Len agreed. "It'll drive her crazy."

Barry stepped away and looked earnestly at Len. "I'll slow down. I'll wait until you're comfortable."

Len averted his eyes, his gaze skittering over the coffee table. "I ain't Grandma Esther's china, Barry."

Barry laughed, soft and embarrassed. "Okay. I take your point. Let me put it this way instead. The Diamonds are playing against the Starlings tonight. Do you want to stay and watch?"

Len smiled, so fast Barry would've missed it if he hadn't been watching like a hawk, and nodded. "Sounds good."

"Just so you know," Barry said as they settled back against the sofa and he turned the TV on, "they're going to get absolutely dusted."

Len shot him a glower. "Those are fighting words. You wanna go?"

Barry smiled until Len turned his attention toward the game. A warm, fizzy sort of hope bubbled in his chest. Maybe this time, he'd be lucky.

~*~

[aurorawest]

Title: not really sure how to feel about it, something in the way you move Author: @aurorawest​ Rating: T Characters: Stephen Strange, Loki Relationships: Loki & Stephen Strange Word Count: 5,888

Wrote this for the no excuses writing meme, askbox version - @mareebird sent me POV and I (of course) got extremely carried away. Please find below chapter 3 of Sleight of Hand from Stephen Strange’s POV.

How was it possible that he got so much mail? He wasn’t exactly giving this address out—if anything, he’d kind of fallen off the grid. But somehow, they still found him. Exterminators (huh, if only they knew), his alma mater asking for money (not even the med school; what was this, the liberal arts school? Christ), an offer to renew the extended warranty on the car he’d wrecked along the banks of the Hudson (had he even had an extended warranty?).

Stephen Strange flipped through envelope after envelope as he stood in the Sanctum’s foyer. How many trees had died just for him to toss this stuff in the trash?

There was a sound upstairs, distant enough that it wasn’t coming from the second or third floors. That meant it was coming from the attic. Stephen grimaced. Only one possible source, then, since Wong wouldn’t go up there. Hard to blame him, considering who had been living up there for three months.

He stood there for a second, listening as footsteps drew closer, and then he went back to flipping through the mail. Their houseguest would be there in three, two, one…

“Oh good, it’s you,” Loki of Asgard sneered from the stairs. Stephen glanced up at him. “You know, I don’t think your lackey is relaying my complaints to you.”

Feeling a muscle twitch somewhere in the region of his temple, Stephen looked back to the mail. He guessed Loki of Asgard maybe wasn’t appropriate anymore, what with Asgard being vaporized and New Asgard being off limits. “It might be because you keep referring to him as my ‘lackey’—which is apparently one of the nicer things you’ve called him.”

‘Goat’s arse,’ ‘feeble-minded cretin,’ and ‘tedious shepherd of a pile of musty, worthless tomes’ were among the epithets that Wong had relayed to him. “So you two aren’t friends yet,” Stephen had said. Wong had given him a flat look and walked away. There was a certain art to Loki’s venom, Stephen had to admit, but it took a masochistic streak to enjoy being the subject of his bile.

Of course, Wong had also mentioned that Loki had sneeringly referred to him as ‘Beyoncé,’ which had given Stephen pause, and not in a particularly good way. He didn’t like to think of Loki and him being anything alike.

A sneer still on his face, Loki said, “Your hurt feelings aren’t any of my concern.”

“Uh huh. You’ve made that pretty clear.” There was nothing worthwhile in this pile of mail. He tossed it on the table. Loki was obviously spoiling for a fight and Stephen didn’t really want to have it here in the foyer. There was too much furniture in here and some of it was probably valuable.

Instead, he gathered a bundle of the Sanctum’s magic to teleport them to the study and twisted it—

—Only to come up against a solid, hard barrier, like a pane of glass. It felt like someone had punched him in the gut and he tried not to stumble. Loki was staring at him, a blazing look on his face. So. Loki didn’t care for that method of transportation, and he’d come up with a way to stop it. “I was wondering how long it would take you to figure out how to do that,” Stephen said, trying to smile a little.

“Don’t patronize me,” Loki snapped back.

Stephen held up his hands. Christ. Never a quiet moment. Loki looked like he was going to kill someone. Probably worthwhile to calm him down. “Okay,” Stephen said. “Let’s talk. But do you mind if we do it in the study? I need to sit down with a cup of tea; I’m exhausted. Interdimensional squid monsters don’t just defeat themselves.”

When Loki didn’t object to this, Stephen summoned a cup of tea for himself, only half full, because otherwise the cup would shake and he’d spill hot tea all over his fingers. Burn scars on top of the surgery scars; what a look. No wonder he couldn’t get a date. Tea in hand, he asked, “Want one?”

There was a tense moment, and then Loki nodded. Another cup materialized on the table where Stephen had tossed the mail. He was half convinced Loki wouldn’t lower himself to going to get it, but he did, and the two of them went into the study.

While Stephen made his way to a chair, Loki lingered in the doorway, his fingers wrapped tightly around his cup of tea. His expression was the kind of closed-off anger that Stephen had always thought was easy to read and easy to deal with. Angry people were boring.

Loki, though, wasn’t boring.

“Have a seat,” Stephen said, gesturing at the other armchair as he sank down into his favorite one. Loki didn’t. He remained on his feet, looking stiff and out-of-place.

No. Wrong phrase. He didn’t look out-of-place in the Sanctum. He never had. At first it had really bothered Stephen. Now, he just tried not to think about it. There were a lot of implications to Loki looking like he belonged at the Sanctum that were better left untouched.

Maybe the right word was unwelcome. Loki looked like he felt unwelcome.

“Did you have a good day?” Stephen asked, taking a sip of his tea. The question was probably unnecessarily sarcastic. But something was kicking at his chest, agitating him, making him irritable. It wasn’t Loki’s mood. He could handle Loki’s foul mood—hadn’t be been doing it for three months? Granted, he tried to stay out of Loki’s way as much as possible, and the feeling was mutual.

Sometimes he’d catch himself looking up the stairs towards the attic, wondering what Loki was doing up there. What did a god do to keep himself from getting bored? Besides insult Wong? What did Loki do to keep himself from getting bored? The answer seemed obvious: get into mischief. But there’d been a distinct lack of mischief. Stephen didn’t know if he was thankful or worried that he just hadn’t noticed it yet.

Clearly, Loki had picked up on the sarcasm. Not a surprise. Not much got past Loki, especially if he thought you were insulting him—and he seemed to usually think you were insulting him. “Oh, yes,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “An absolute peach of a day.” When Stephen shrugged, anger flashed through Loki’s eyes like knives. His voice tight, he snapped, “I’m sick and tired of being locked up here, wizard. I’m sick and tired of being in that room, wasting time. I’m sick and tired of you telling me that it’s for the good of the universe for me to rot in this house.”

Stephen had been watching Loki’s fingers clench more and more tightly around the cup during this speech, which was the most he’d heard Loki talk since that day he’d arrived outside the Sanctum, falling on the sidewalk, Tesseract in hand. She, Stephen guessed. Loki had been a woman at the time. To this day, Stephen didn’t really know why, but he’d recognized her immediately. No question in his mind that he had been looking at Loki.

He waited for Loki to go on, but he just gulped down his tea, wincing. The cup vanished once the tea was gone.

There was silence. Then, Stephen asked, “Are you done?”

“Did you want to hear more?” Loki asked.

It almost made Stephen smile. But he wasn’t supposed to smile at Loki. Loki was the guy who had attacked New York in 2012. He was a threat. He wasn’t a good guy.

That was oversimplifying everything, and Stephen hated it when people oversimplified things. At Stark’s funeral, Stephen had approached Thor, because…well, he didn’t really know anyone else there, except the Guardians, and he’d pretty much exhausted all the conversational possibilities with them within five minutes. And there was the Parker kid, he guessed, but he could do better than chatting with a high schooler.

Saying he ‘knew’ Thor was kind of overstating it, but at least they’d had more than a two second conversation. But he knew he’d made a mistake right away. Thor had been drunk and definitely hadn’t wanted to talk; after attempting to make conversation for a minute, Stephen had given up and walked away.

He’d almost stepped on Rocket Raccoon, who was on his way to Thor and who had glared at him and muttered something that had definitely begun, “Fucking wizard…” under his breath.

Stephen had bitten back the urge to tell him how many raccoons he’d hit over the years. “What’s with Thor?” he’d asked. The weight, the hair, the beard, the booze, the crushing defeat slung around his shoulders—it wasn’t really a ‘what’s with him’ kind of question, but Stephen was hoping Rocket would give him the short and surly answer.

Rocket had rolled his eyes. “Gee, I dunno, where should I start? Dead mom? Dead dad? Dead sister? Dead brother? Blown up planet?”

Which was when Stephen had known. Loki was dead. Banner’s story about Thanos attacking the Asgardian refugee ship hadn’t included the fates of the Sons of Odin. But this had clinched it. No one had told him what had happened and he wasn’t about to ask Thor or his friend, the woman with the sword who had glared at anyone who had looked sideways at Thor. But Stephen had gotten the feeling that Loki had gone down fighting, that whatever had happened between the guy charging him with a couple of knives and Loki’s death, that him and Thor had made up.

It also made everything he’d seen make a shit ton more sense.

When he’d looked at those fourteen million, six hundred and five futures and found the one where Thanos was defeated, he’d looked further ahead. Of course he’d looked further ahead. How did he know there wasn’t something worse coming right after Thanos? He had to be sure he was choosing the right one. So what had he seen? Death. So much death. His own, over and over and over and over again. His own and everyone else’s. In the end, Natasha Romanoff’s and Tony Stark’s. Steve Rogers’s, too, in a way.

He’d seen Thor, an absolute wreck of a man who needed to find something on his own before he could find the thing he really needed, which was his brother. Yeah, the dead brother. Because Stephen had seen Loki, too. Loki, living at the Sanctum, Loki befriending Jane Foster, Loki and Thor together, Loki—

Well. The point was, he’d seen Loki.

There were actually a lot of reasons he didn’t want to smile at anything Loki said, and to blame it on him being ‘the bad guy’ was disingenuous.

Carefully, Stephen set his cup of tea down on the table next to his chair. Did he want to hear more? That was an open question, and he wished it wasn’t. “I think I get the general idea,” he said. “You know you’re not confined to that room, right? You’re free to go anywhere in the house.”

Not that anyone had ever actually come out and told Loki this, because the fact was, there kind of were places that Stephen and Wong didn’t want him going. Once or twice, Stephen had caught Loki slipping like a shadow through the house, trying not to make eye contact with the Sanctum’s other occupants, but staring longingly into the library. Stephen had almost told him he should go in and read whatever he wanted. But something had stopped him. Maybe that had been wrong.

Loki snorted. “And trip one of your booby traps? I don’t think so.”

Stephen took a fortifying breath. “Don’t get into anything you’re not supposed to, and you won’t.”

Loki’s face twisted. “And how, pray tell, am I supposed to know what I’m allowed to touch and what I’m not?” he snarled.

“You’re a wizard, aren’t you?” Stephen asked, unable to stop himself from throwing Loki’s preferred slight back in his face.

“Master of Magic,” Loki shot back, his eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Right.” This was going nowhere. Antagonizing each other wasn’t going to solve anything. Loki was stuck here and they both knew it. “Look, we’ve been over this. I’m sorry about keeping you here, but this is the way it has to be.”

Clenching his fists, Loki said, “It has to be this way, does it? I know you can look into the future, so tell me why, exactly, the universe’s fate hinges on me being stuck in this house. It seems just a bit unlikely.”

No argument there. Fourteen million futures unlikely. But Loki didn’t know what. Steepling his fingers in his lap, Stephen said, “If you’re referring to the fact that I used the Time Stone to see if we could beat Thanos, yeah. I looked past that moment to make sure there wasn’t some kind of world-ending, Avengers-level event coming right after it. I saw possibilities.”

They’d had this conversation several times already. That part usually went okay. It was the next part that pissed Loki off. Narrowing his eyes, Stephen went on, “What I saw was that it’s better for the universe for you to be here. I wouldn’t presume to tell you the fate of everything rests on you crashing in the attic room. But I can’t let you leave. There’s too much probability that millions of lives are at stake.”

There was devastation on Loki’s face. Stephen didn’t relish it. He didn’t like causing this man pain. Man? God, he guessed. But he knew Loki didn’t see it that way. He knew Loki thought he got off on being a prick.

Well, maybe he had, at one point in his life. Not so much anymore. At least, not to Loki, who, three months into this unwilling roommate situation, was pretty clearly very damaged, hurting badly, and profoundly lost. And goddammit, Stephen knew that feeling so, so well.

“What do I care for millions of lives when my brother—” Loki paused and seemed to gather himself. “—when my brother needs a kick in the arse, preferably from me?”

Then again, Loki didn’t always make it easy to not be a prick.

And it was better if he pushed Loki away. It didn’t necessarily seem smart to make the God of Mischief hate him, but it ultimately seemed preferable.

“That’s sweet,” Stephen said. “I hope he can feel the love, even if he thinks it’s coming from beyond the grave.”

Anger twisted Loki’s face. “I didn’t ask for this,” he snarled. “I was ready to die. You lot are the ones that messed up the fabric of space and time. The only reason I’m here at all is because someone let a group of rank amateurs loose in something they knew nothing about and couldn’t possibly hope to understand the ramifications of. So if my presence here is such a problem, such a wrench in the continued existence of the universe, blame them. I’d tell you to take it up with your counterpart in the other timeline, but—oh yes, I had to erase it from existence, so I suppose you’ll never know why he was so adamant that I be sent here, to you, in this particular year.”

Another big speech from Loki. Stephen had noticed that when he got upset, when he got agitated, he talked more, his words spilling over each other like rocks tumbling along the riverbed in a swift current. His anger didn’t make him less eloquent. There was something admirable about that. To be honest, there was something mesmerizing about watching Loki get more and more angry. His fury was something to behold—like something wild, like a storm, like something that no one would ever be able to control. There was something kind of beautiful about that.

And, nope. Better for Loki to hate him.

Keeping his face impassive, Stephen asked, “Is there more you’d like to say?” When Loki remained coldly silent, he went on, “You know, I couldn’t keep you here if you really wanted to leave. You stay because you think what I’ve told you is true.”

Harsh laughter tore itself out of Loki. “What can I do but assume it’s true? Do you know what I’ve been through?”

“Only what you’ve told me. I’m sure it hasn’t been easy.”

“Your sympathy means so much.”

Stephen knew he was pushing every button Loki had. It wasn’t that hard. He had an unfair advantage, after all. He’d seen the future. But even if he hadn’t, he still thought it would be easy. There was something about Loki that was easy to understand, when he should have been impossible. And Stephen really, really didn’t want Loki to be easy to understand. Not for him. Definitely not for him.

Meeting Loki’s eyes, Stephen said, “Loki. I’m not keeping you here because I have some sort of vendetta against you.” Loki just glared at him, so Stephen sighed. “Your brother has things to do and he needs to do them without you. You can’t help him right now. That’s what I’ve seen. There are a lot of possible outcomes, but in most of them, you staying out of Thor’s life right now is best for everyone.”

Stephen had known this wasn’t the right thing to say. But he had to admit, even he hadn’t guessed just how wrong it was.

Something…happened. Magic screamed out of Loki, blasting into everything in the room. It slammed into Stephen, a shockwave that passed through his skin and lungs and bones, roaring through him, invading him, and for what felt like forever, he couldn’t breathe.

This was the sort of thing he’d trained for, though. This was what made him a Master of the Mystic Arts. This was what made him Guardian of the New York Sanctum. As glass and wood shattered around him, he called a spell to his hands and cast it, magic flowing from his hands. Everything in the room stopped, suspended in midair, a tableau of frozen destruction. The only two things moving in the room were Loki and Stephen.

Stephen flicked a hand and everything settled back to where it was supposed to be. This was the first time he’d really seen what Loki could do—it was the first time Loki had unleashed his magic. And unleashed was the word. Loki’s chest was heaving. His eyes were bright with rage and his face was open in a way that Stephen had never seen, even if it was only open enough to be twisted with fury and pain.

He was…magnificent. Incandescent. He looked every inch a god.

And Stephen Strange did not want to think so.

So he waited a moment. Steeled himself. And then, he said dryly, “Looks like I hit a sore spot.”

The other thing, that hadn’t been meant to wound. This definitely had been.

Knives appeared in Loki’s hands. “Shut. Up.” His voice was shaking. An attack would be easy to stop, but Stephen didn’t want to have to do that. His shoulders still heaving, Loki said, “I would rather be trapped in your pocket universe, falling into infinite blackness, then have to look at your insufferable face and listen to your smug, sanctimonious, pedantic explanations about why I’m here for one—more—SECOND.”

How hard did he want to push? How much did he want to make Loki hate him? Stephen had to look away from him. Watching Loki, enraged, threatening him, radiating anger, was a little too much like looking at the sun. “That can be arranged,” Stephen said, folding his hands in his lap.

Loki stepped forward, holding his dagger up, leveling it between Stephen’s eyes. “You’ve wanted to since day one. Put your money where your mouth is, sorcerer.”

At this, Stephen looked back up to Loki, meeting his eyes and holding his gaze. He could see Loki thinking about it, those blue eyes of his cracking with anger, with dislike, maybe even with hate. Hell, if their positions were reversed, Stephen would probably be tempted to stick a knife in his own chest to shut himself up.

This was too much. There were good reasons for Stephen to antagonize Loki; good reasons for them not to be friends, or even friendly. But this didn’t sit right. He couldn’t keep doing this.

Loki lowered his arm, sagging, as his fingers loosened around his dagger. Stephen’s eyebrows drew together. What was happening? Why was Loki giving up? That seemed unlike him. In the encounters they’d had, Loki had always snarled a vicious parting shot before stalking away. Nothing seemed to cow him.

That wasn’t right though, was it? Loki was cowed. Thor and Loki were like mirror images of each other. One wore his pain and brokenness on the outside, the other stuffed it down and papered over it with rage. But at the end of the day, it was the exact same pain.

Sounding defeated, Loki said, “Do it, Strange. I promise I’ll only blame you a little bit.”

Christ. Seriously? Did Loki really think Stephen was going to trap him in a void, falling forever, or until Stephen felt like freeing him? Well, to be fair, he guessed he’d done it before. But those had been extenuating circumstances.

Extenuating circumstances. Right. His whole life was a series of extenuating circumstances, now. He had an Asgardian prince living in his house and he hadn’t informed anyone—except people he trusted at Kamar-Taj—that Loki was here at all. Extenuating circumstances: if he was right about what he’d seen in this future, then Loki would never be a threat to Earth again.

Stephen’s list certainly didn’t think so. A few days after Loki’s arrival, his name had disappeared from it. Stephen had thought something might be wrong with it and he’d checked it, a pit of ice forming in his stomach. But of course nothing was wrong with the list. He already knew Loki wasn’t a threat. Every time things played out exactly the way he’d seen them play out with the Time Stone, he felt a little more sick. Most of it was fine; most of it was great, but he’d caught a glimpse—there was a future that he didn’t want, and if he could nudge things just a little off course—well, it would be better for everyone.

Watching the anger flicker out of Loki’s eyes was like watching a storm recede. No pocket dimension for him. Anyway, he’d find his way out of it before long. “Yeah,” Stephen said, “I’m not going to, but your permission’s noted.”

They couldn’t keep going like this. Stephen was pretty arrogant, but even he wasn’t cocky enough to think he could break Loki. But something—stupidity, sentimentality, shortsightedness, all of the above?—made him realize that he didn’t even want Loki thinking he was trying to break him. That wasn’t who he wanted to be, not for himself, and not for Loki, either.

All of the above, definitely. With a really large helping of stupidity. Taking a breath and tilting his head to disguise his own swirling thoughts, he said, “You know…you might have a point. Not about the pocket universe. But about being cooped up. It’s probably bad luck or something to keep a god under house arrest, even here.”

The daggers vanished. “I’m listening,” Loki said warily.

Stephen got to his feet, mainly so Loki wouldn’t be able to see his face. Up until this point, he’d been a mainly passive observer in the events he’d seen. He’d give up the Time Stone to Thanos, but other than that, he’d set nothing in motion. His job was to be part of all of it, not to guide it. But there were certain things that he’d glimpsed, things that he didn’t understand how they could come to pass without him initiating it. The problem was, he didn’t know when any of it was supposed to happen. A year from now? Four months? Next week? Today? There was no way to know. The Time Stone didn’t subtitle dates at the bottom of its visions.

Which left him to use his own judgement. There was a time when just about the only person’s judgement he’d trusted was his own. The bizarre vicissitudes of his life had taught him better. Humility made him hesitate. How did he know this was the right time? If he set things in motion now, he couldn’t stop them. What if he acted and it wasn’t time? What if he had it all wrong?

He cast spell after spell to clean up the room, feeling Loki’s presence at his back. As the last lampshade fit itself back into place, a realization hit him like a train. Humility? He thought he’d learned humility? He was still the same arrogant son of a bitch he’d always been. This wasn’t about him. It had never been about him.

He recognized the pain Loki was in. This was about Loki.

There was no way for him to know the right time to set events in motion. But it didn’t matter. Loki needed this now, whether it was the right time or not.

Stephen hesitated for another second. Once he spoke, he couldn’t take it back. He couldn’t undo it.

He turned around to face Loki, who looked like a caged animal, desperate to run but with nowhere to go, his rage barely subsided, simmering just under the surface. And Stephen spoke. “I shouldn’t even be telling you this. I’m breaking every patient confidentiality law on the books.”

Surprise flickered across Loki’s face, though he immediately wiped it away. “Then please don’t feel compelled to.”

Stephen ignored him. “I was at the hospital today—”

“Why?” Loki interrupted. With a pointed look at Stephen’s hands, clearly meant to be cruel, he added, “Don’t tell me they’re letting you cut people open?”

He deserved that. But it still rankled. He thought he actually preferred the knives. “I thought you said you were listening,” Stephen said. Loki backed down, holding up his hands. The expression on his face had returned to wariness. “I was visiting a friend,” Stephen went on. “While I was there, I walked by a room that listed the occupant as Jane Foster.”

This was…not exactly a lie. Stephen had been by Metro-General recently—not today, but within the week—and he had seen Christine while he was there, but he’d gone for the express purpose of seeing if Jane Foster had taken up residence there. The little ball of ice in his stomach had grown a bit more when he’d seen her name on the door.

Loki started at the name and immediately scowled.

“Someone you know?” Stephen asked, knowing the answer perfectly well.

“An acquaintance,” Loki replied, raising one eyebrow.

This shouldn’t have charmed Stephen, but against his will, it did. Something in the arch of that eyebrow, the glint in Loki’s eyes, which wasn’t quite mischief but was sharp and pointed and keen as those daggers he carried around on his arms. God knew Loki had never tried to be charming in his time at the Sanctum. Somehow, that made the flashes of his natural charm way more genuine and likable.

“Uh huh,” Stephen said. “Friend of Thor’s, right?” Loki shrugged and Stephen grew serious. “I looked at her records. Another broken rule, by the way. Same Jane Foster. She’s dying.”

“Of course she’s dying,” Loki said, shrugging again. “You humans are in a perpetual state of mortality. It’s just what you do.”

Less charming. Stephen felt his lips thin. “She’s terminally ill. She has weeks. Maybe a couple months, if she gets really lucky.”

This seemed to hit some kind of nerve. Or maybe Loki just realized he was being an asshole. Finally, he said, “I see. And?”

“And nothing.” There was still a shattered vase in the corner. Stephen magically repaired it and it settled back into place on the table that held it. He tried not to take a deep breath and make it obvious how much he was bullshitting his way through this conversation. This was it. “Unless you want to go see her,” he said.

If this had been a movie, the music would have swelled and then abruptly dropped away at this point. The audience had to be clued in that this was a Big Moment. But of course, only Stephen knew that. Loki had no idea. His eyes narrowed and he asked, “Why would I want to go see her? I barely know the woman. My brother was the one who couldn’t stop mooning over her.” Something seemed to occur to him and he quickly added, “He dumped her, by the way.”

To be totally honest, Stephen didn’t care about the love lives of the Asgardian royal family, or lack thereof. But there was something kind of sweet about Loki insisting on this point, which told Stephen that it absolutely wasn’t true, and Jane had definitely dumped Thor’s ass.

“I was under the impression you wanted to do something nice for your brother,” Stephen said.

Loki made a series of spluttering noises, then finally managed, “This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

“You don’t say,” Stephen said, his tone deadpan. When Loki glared at him, he added, “Why don’t you think about it?”

“Why don’t you let me go tell my brother that I’m not dead?”

Point to Loki. Probably. Stephen had kind of lost track. He’d felt like this was a game he was going to lose from the moment Loki had appeared on the sidewalk outside, anyway. He sighed, less at Loki; more at the situation. “Do you really want to do this again today? I just got done cleaning up.” This drew an unwilling snort of laughter from Loki, and Stephen felt a tendril of an emotion that he wasn’t willing to name unfurl ever-so-slightly within him.

“By the way,” Stephen said, to distract both of them from the fact that he had just made Loki laugh, “Thor isn’t even on Earth right now.”

Picking at the armor on his hands, Loki said, “I know.”

Stephen felt his brow furrow in surprise. Loki looked at him, taking this in. “You do?” Stephen asked.

“I heard you and Wong talking about it.” Loki looked almost guilty. He cleared his throat and said, “Something about some people calling themselves the Guardians.”

Huh. Well. What else had Loki heard?

“You have good hearing,” Stephen finally said.

With a faint smile, Loki replied, “I’m very good at overhearing things that people don’t want me to.”

Good to know. Stephen wished he’d known it three months ago. He’d have to comb through his memories to figure out if Wong and he had talked about anything sensitive within Loki’s impressive earshot.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Stephen said.

Exiting a conversation at the right time was a skill Stephen had always prided himself on, and he knew this one had run its course. Something momentous had happened here, though Loki didn’t know the half of it. Stephen didn’t know if he felt like a puppet master or a puppet himself, a marionette whose strings were being jerked around by the universe the same as everyone else’s. He just happened to know about it.

Loki seemed like the kind of guy who you could have really in-depth philosophical discussions with. Get him started on a conversation about free will, and Stephen had a feeling he’d be fascinating. Stephen had heard him invoke the Norns, and as soon as that particular argument had ended, he’d pulled out his phone to google the word.

The Fates. Urðr, Verðandi, and Skuld, the most important of them. They wove mortals’ fates, pulled at the threads, followed them, tangled them, untangled them. Stephen had no idea what Loki thought about free will, but he had a feeling it was complicated.

Another thing Stephen was good at? Leaving a difficult conversation on top. He held out a hand and Loki stared at it. His open confusion was kind of satisfying. “Oh, sorry,” Stephen said. “The cup you vanished. I’ll take that back. They’re antique. I’m trying to keep the set together.”

Total bullshit. They were from the thrift store a few blocks over, and before that, probably Kmart, and there were already several pieces missing.

But Loki didn’t know any better. Stephen didn’t even know why he was messing with him. Maybe just to see if he could. There was, after all, the aforementioned feeling that he’d lost this game before it had even started. Anything to get the upper hand, no matter how temporary it was.

Smirking, Loki twitched his fingers, and the cup appeared out of thin air, dropping into Stephen’s palm. Without another word, Loki turned to leave. But then, in the doorway, he stopped and turned around. “How do I get to this hospital?” he asked. “In case I do decide to go see Miss Foster.”

Check. Did the Norns play chess? Whatever. Stephen wasn’t sure he believed in them.

Then again, he hadn’t believed in magic either, had he?

With a small smile, Stephen said, “We’ll get you a Metro Card.” He couldn’t read Loki’s face. Probably he didn’t know what a Metro Card was. Lucky guy. In all seriousness, though, Loki was, what, a thousand something years old? But he didn’t know much about Earth. Given an opportunity, he’d probably learn everything he could about it. And that reminded him. The library. Giving Loki free rein in there was something he should have done a long time ago. Wong would hate it, but…Stephen would pick up his tuna melts for a month or two and he’d get over it. “And Loki? I think you’ll find that the library has a number of books that might interest you.”

There was an impossibly long silence while Loki stared at him. Would he accept this? As peace offerings went, it was pretty paltry. Peace offering? Stephen kept his face still, but inside, he snorted at himself. He guessed so. For the past three months, he’d either outright ignored or tried to alienate Loki. Something momentous had happened here without him knowing, too. This relationship had changed. Stephen had Seen Things, but he didn’t have a roadmap. He didn’t know where this was going. He didn’t know what to expect.

The knot of ice was still in his stomach, but it seemed to thaw a little. Maybe he wasn’t entirely a toy of the Norns.

Finally, Loki inclined his head, a graceful, courtly gesture that reminded Stephen forcibly and viscerally that this was a prince. It wasn’t something that he cared about, per se. He was a person first and foremost. And last, when it came down to it. But somewhere in the middle, he was a prince, a god, a onetime villain. And he was also a brother, a son, and—

Definitely not a friend. Not to Stephen, at least.

“Thank you,” Loki said. Stephen nodded to him, and Loki turned and walked away, his footsteps quiet on the wood floor.

No, not a friend. But maybe, just maybe, not an enemy, either.

[getallemeralds-archive]

Maybe make it into more of a "story" blog? Like instead of having to keep up with asks, you post concepts and mini plotlines or whatever you want, at your own pace. I've seen people do that while on breaks/indefinite hiatus. Just tossing around ideas.

yeah thats basically what me and jorb have been discussing.. pretty much since ja&b ended? askbox interaction is really fun, but when ja&b started to shift to being story-driven it ended up being really chaotic to maintain-- i mean, even after clearing out the inbox and closing it theres still 52 asks sitting there, apparently. im pretty sure i got up to 100 at some point

i guess im leaning towards like, more of a comic that i script w help of the other ja&b muns so i have better control over pacing as well-- part of what led into experiencing problems was that pretty much nothing was planned beyond “i want to have a sovi story arc”, “i want to have a decorrupted fresh story arc”, “i want to have a [spoilers] story arc” and then unexpected stuff like duet which was a curveball jorb threw at me that i ran with. this, combined with the varying tone of my inbox, meant that things were really scattered-- duet’s personality and, like, emotional reactions to stuff was all over the place, not helped by my tablet dying so i had to flail around while nyx took over for a bit hfdkgjdbh

and then like. stuff like me feeling like duet was Taking Too Long even though that wasnt the case but also the sovereign arc was like. over in a week i think? which is CRAZY FAST for an askblog but i kept pressuring myself to Do Things Fast and Respond Fast bc i was getting so many asks, so stuff got rushed, and then when i Wasn’t able to rush stuff i felt guilty and like i was taking up too much time, especially with me getting asks about “why hasnt duet tried [x] to unfuse?” and me taking that as “oh god people want this to be over already but i havent hit the story beats i want” and hurgghhhhh it was a disaster

...thats a lot of words! anyway. i mismanaged stuff pretty hard and im hoping that if i do a comic or something i’ll be able to better pace it than doing literally everything on the fly and hoping for the best. especially like, when im wanting to hit specific story beats but instead get Literally Everything Else from my inbox which is just, like, the downside of an askblog. people may be more interested in other stuff than the things im trying to drop hints on to get it to progress in the way i want

IVE,, BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS A LOT,,, its also why @showyourenergy is like, intentionally a lot more freeform. there’s no real story planned, with the most being “oh i have some ideas for cool stuff if things line up right for it to be possible” but otherwise im just screwing around. that’s also what i intended for ja&b at the start, but the shift to heavy story focus-- with there also being a lot of rp interaction with RR, which made me nervous bc he was supposed to just be a representation of me and isnt even really canon to ja&b but i started making him canon for... some reason...-- meant things got turned into a clusterfuck i didnt know how to handle

[dcarhcarts]

regarding recent absences

And other such updates!

If you want the tl;dr, here it is: my mental health isn’t in the greatest place right now, and I figured I ought to explain why I must ask you for continued patience for the snail speed on this blog. I’m not announcing official hiatus, but just know that I...might continue to be pretty scarce, but I’m trying my best to be here and to be writing here. To hopefully get me more active here, I plan on dropping a few threads and cleaning out my dash re: people who follow me but aren’t writing with me. You’re more than welcome to keep following me if I unfollow you, and if you want to write with me and just haven’t gotten the chance and would like me to re-follow you, pls just go ahead and shoot me an im. I will be making a separate post about both those things, it’s just that I can’t deal with how fast my dash is moving at the moment.

If you care for the long version, under the cut so as to not bother everyone else!!! Be warned that it’s uh...it’s l o n g. TW for depression and anxiety and the general things my brain does to me lolol. 

Wow I haven’t used the post title function in a l o n g time. Anyway, hi, it’s me, Ro, your friendly neighborhood mun of a 20+ muse mumu. Don’t let the kind-of-serious format scare you - nothing bad is happening. I just have a few things that I felt the need to address that have been happening either in my life or just in my screwed up brain :D Buckle in and get ready for the ride, I guess?

Starting with something y’all already know about - I’ve not been here a lot recently. I joke about that a lot, but really, if you catch the pattern, my activity here is: exclusively after 10 pm, 2 drafts at most a day, inbox straight up clogged from like a month ago. IMS basically desolate, because I haven’t worked up the courage to pick them back up since I last forgot about them in the endless stream of things I had to do about a month ago! (that being said, uh, if you want to talk to me your best bet is probably through discord. Ro#6782 - pls, mutuals only, and tell me who you are!)  

And - because I h a t e being that mun that reblogs memes and asks for for them and then never answers their askbox / puts out starter calls when she has 10000 drafts / puts out plotting calls when she has unanswered ims, (no problem at all when other people do this but somehow when it’s m e I’m like “no you’re a terrible person”???? hmmm), I’ve also been avoiding t h o s e. If you’re new and you followed me in the last month, I’ve been putting out n o t h i n g that indicates a willingness to interact with new/more people, while the opposite is true. I’m always willing to interact - if I follow back, I want to write with you, only, well, aforementioned issue aside, I also have m o r e problems.

Namely, IRL and the fucked up thing called my brain. 

As most of you know, I got a job ~end of may or early juuuune~ and....well it’s pretty damn time consuming. I can’t have my phone during the course of my job - by the way, 4 hours - and so in those 4 hours (from 4 pm to 8 pm) I can basically get nothing done here. Then there’s also the fact that the time my shift is placed mentally and physically drains me a lot. Because it starts at 4, most of my morning is spent thinking “god I don’t wanna go to work” and because it ends at 8, most of my evening is spent trying very hard not to doze off. It also drains me a lot socially - I work at a call center, and all day I’m basically calling people who don’t want me to call them and are very irate even when they pick up, and uh, that already doesn’t do well for my anxiety haha. 

The other thing, of course - is my sort-of-seasonal depression. Winter tends to equate to anxiety for me, and summer tends to equate to depression. Again, I think I’ve joked about this a lot, but I apparently can only do drafts when I have 3 finals tomorrow and I haven’t studied for any of them. When it’s break, I get into a really weird slump - when i wake up in the morning, I don’t really want to wake up, and sometimes just stare at the wall for like, an hour. Nothing that I enjoyed during the other months, I seem to enjoy doing now. There’s too much time and too little time. It’s like i spent the whole day doing absolutely nothing meaningful but I can’t break myself out of the cycle so I keep doing that, rinse and repeat day after day, and sometimes my definition of spending time is just lying down in bed again and doing nothing for an hour randomly in the middle of the day. I feel guilty for wasting time as much as I am clueless as to how to fill it in a fulfilling way. “But Ro, you could do drafts!” A Concerned Person May Say. “You like writing!” Well, Kind Person, on some of these days, absolutely n o t h i n g Sparks Joy. 

“But Ro, I follow you on your other blog too!” The Concerned Person might continue.“You’re kind of active there, aren’t you?” And the answer, Kind Person who supported my career even if that blog is mostly obscure af fandoms - is yes.  I am kind of active on my other blog, @storyblcd. This brings us to the third and final reason why I’m.....moving at snail’s speed here, and that, my good friend - is anxiety. Well, mixed with a certain amount of mental exhaustion, of course. Note: this is n o t anyone’s fault. People’s interactions with me have not been negative - and they are not responsible for how my brain chooses to reaact to it. 

I’ve not lost muse for the muses on this blog, per se - but I’m getting burned out really fast writing them, for multiple reasons. First, muse imbalance. Now I know, I definitely k n o w - that sometimes people like one muse more than another, or have more interest in writing with one or the other, and I get that. I’ve said multiple multiple times that that is p e r f e c t l y fine. But honestly the reason I’ve lasted so long on a multimuse is because I can pick which muse I have muse for when, and I can respond accordingly / ask for interactions accordingly. But when I get so many people coming at me at once for the o n e muse when I have t w e n t y it sometimes gets a little? Discouraging? It makes me question whether or not only that one muse is popular for a reason. It also exhausts me re: the portrayal of that muse, because I”m putting out so many replies for that muse in a lot of sort of similar plots/scenarios that I just get burnt right out. And then I get scared that if I keep going I’ll want to drop the muse, so I’m staying away from those threads a little bit.

Second, I’m at a point in my portrayal of certain muses where I feel like there’s a certain expectation for how it’s going to be. My personal feelings aside, I think every mun expects their own portrayal to be different and unique and exciting - and it’s not different for me, only now I feel like the expectation and the pressure of coming up with something good and meaningful outweighs the feeling of exploration as I’m “discovering” the muse. Like most writers - I still crave validation, though more and more lately, I’m at a place in my writing where I f e e l like me from 2 months ago could have probably done a better job. While it’s not necessarily true, and these pressures are coming from m e and not any outside source, I f e e l like I have to consistently Make Good Writing, and simultaneously feel like some days I sit down and I try to do drafts and all I write is garbage. It just - doesn’t feel the same? So - more and more, I’m staring at the empty drafts page and then closing it - because if I don’t w r i t e I don’t have to admit I peaked two months ago.  

Both of these reasons have made me rather a bit avoidant of my muses here / this blog. Now, I’ve been struggling with anxiety for long enough that I know that a lot of this is - well, p r o b a b l y just my brain lying to me. See even as I’m writing this post now, my anxiety is saying “haha guess what n o one cares you’ve been gone” and my rational Anxiety-is-a-stupid-asshole voice is saying “nahhhhhh your brain is probably just lying to you.” But! In the battle, anxiety is kind of pummeling me now. I will r i s e again and win the war, most likely - but for now it’s anxiety: 1 and ro: 0.

AND finally - if you made it all the way down here, you’re a c h a m p. The solution! Well, as much of a solution as I’m hoping to get anyway - we’ll have to see if it implements well. I’m going to unfollow a few blogs so I can get my dash cleaner/more organized/less fast-moving and b r e a t h e. I’m going to drop a couple of threads, I might make a couple more muses request only/exclusive only for the like 2 people that have threads with them, I might drop a couple muses (though I don’t think this will really happen, Idk tho). There will be separate posts on those things coming soon, this is just to notify y’all. Thank you for all of your patience, thank you for all the wonderful people who’ve allowed me to write with you, I love all of you!!!!

[spiderread]

Heartbreak - T.H.

a/n: this is probably one of the greatest fics I've ever made, even though I'm not too happy with the ending. this is inspired by Deadpool two by the way. in the scenes where wade “almost” dies and meets Vanessa in the “afterlife”. 

oh and, also I'm still on for smut Saturday tomorrow/today (its 1am here lol) even though I have the sleepover. so go check out my sleepover post and spam my askbox with whatever you want :)

word count: 1.4k

warnings: angst mutherfuckerrr and also typos and shit lmao.

summary: tom gets into an accident and meets you in the afterlife.

He felt like... falling? How was that? Tom couldn't feel or see anything, or do anything at all for that matter. It just felt like he was a bodiless soul without ant senses, just a floating mind in a pitch black room. Even though he couldn't feel anything he still had this sense of familiarity. Like when you're falling off a building in a dream. You've never actually fallen from such height, but your mind makes up this feeling that you kinda just know you would feel if you were falling. A sense of panic, fright and tenseness, your body just freezes because it doesn't really know what to do with itself.

For some reason he didn't remember anything before this, his mind was completely blank. everything was happening now and that's all that could seem to get stuck in his mind. Everything else was just a pitch black memory of other bodiless souls he couldn't seem to remember anything of.

All this, yet he knew why he was here. Here. What was really here? tom didn't know, he didn't think he would ever find out either. all he knew was that this was important. This was it. Something had happened and he was here for a reason.

-

"We need to get him to the OR immediately!"

"Luckily, he was the only one hurt in the accident. The truck driver only has a few scratches."

"Apparently he was drunk."

"I need more blood!"

"We need to put him in a medically induced coma."

-

Bang! His body landed on the ground. It didn't hurt. tom had a body now. He was no longer a bodyless soul floating around. Everything seemed to be fine except for his short-term memory loss and being able to physically feel anything. Only God knows where he was now.

Wait! This was his apartment. His old one that is. The one he had shared with her. Her. God, he missed her. Now he lived in an old and dirty apartment in a shady neighbourhood. He was pretty sure it was a fungus that was growing in the bottom right corner of his shower.

He rose to his feet. The apartment felt like home. It had brighter colours and it was cleaner. Way cleaner. He missed that place so much. He hated living the way he did, but after he lost his job, that was the only thing he could afford. He had to wear shoes and a coat inside because the heating system was broken, and the janitor hadn't really done anything about it. He was eating cereal out of frying pans, for god's sake! How could he not miss that place?

But there was something wrong with the place. Something was missing. No... there was one thing too much in here. He turned around. There. A mirror. It covered the whole wall of the apartment. Tom walked over to it out of curiosity. Should he touch it? What bad could come out of it? So he touched it. But when his fingers touched the mirror it didn't stop. Instead, it just let his finger go right through it. Then his entire hand, then his arm and suddenly his entire body went through what he had thought was a mirror. Now he wasn't so sure anymore.

Everything was the same here. except... there she was. Right in from of him, sitting on the couch reading her favourite book. Her glasses sitting perfectly at the bridge of her nose as her brows furrowed in concentration. He let himself smile for a second as he stared at her. A tear threatened to escape from the corner of his eye before he finally caught himself and went back to being confused and disoriented.

"This has got to be some sort of dream." He whispered to himself as he tried to think his way back to reality. He was just waiting to wake up in his old shitty apartment like he always did. But nothing happened. Instead, her head shot up and she made eye contact with him. She smiled.

"Took you long enough." She said as she put away her book and took of her glasses. She got up from the couch and rushed over to tom. He was caught by surprise when she jumped into his arms at first, but it only took his body a second to react. He reached under her thighs and lifted her up. She connected her feet behind his back as they hugged each other so high he thought he was gonna kill you. But that wouldn't matter... he couldn't even think of it.  She suddenly leaned back a little from his embrace, just enough to look him in the eyes. "What took you so long?"

"I'm so sorry," he started crying, his voice breaking with every word. "I just missed you so much." He half sobbed half smiled. God, he had missed her. Her smell, the way her eyes would sparkle every time something shiny would hit the reflection of her eye. It gave him some sort of hope. And he was starting to let himself hope again.

"Hey, hey, hey. Shhhh. It's ok baby." She assured him as she stroked his chin with her thumb like he used to do with her when she was upset. "I'm here now."

Finally, they kissed. It felt like ages since it had happened last time. Probably because it had been ages since it happened. He felt her soft lips move against him as they tried to hold each other as close as possible. Yet it felt like he wasn't close enough like there was some sort of invisible wall between them.

He sat her down again and they let go of each other for a second. Their foreheads were touching as they looked at each other. Tom couldn't stop smiling as he touched her soft skin. But there was something wrong, he could see it on her face. She wasn't smiling like he knew she would if they had met each other in real life. She was frowning, her eyes getting wet as if she had just realised something awful. And he was right. She had.

"It's not the time for you." She said not even looking him straight In the eyes. She backed away a little.

"What? What do you mean it's not the time for me?" Tom was confused. All he ever dreamed of was being with you, and now that he was, you didn't want to. "No. I'm here now. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving you again."

"Your time is not out yet. It's not your time to go." She finally looked at him again. She was heartbroken. And so was he. Again. "Don't worry. I'll be here. Waiting for you." She tried to lighten the mood by smiling but it didn't really help. He could already feel his half-healed heart, break into even smaller pieces than they had the first time.

"I don't understand, what-" he was cut short when she kissed him again. This time with even more force, like as if she knew she wouldn't see him again for a while. It sent sparks through his entire body. It felt like fireworks had entered his body and pumped through his veins and all the way into his heart before they exploded. He wanted it to last forever.

But it didn't. Because not even a second later he felt her hand on his chest as she pushed him with almost inhuman force until he fell through the mirror behind him.

This time, instead of falling on the floor of the apartment on the other side or falling in the pitch black room, he woke up in an unfamiliar room. And this time he could feel everything. Both emotional and physical pain. And it hurt so much. So damn much.

on the left, he could hear a machine making peeping noises but he couldn't focus on anything else than the fact that this was his reality and she would never come back to that. He tried to pinch himself but nothing worked. He just had to realise that this was it. This was what he was gonna get, and was gonna have to live with it for the rest of his life. And all he could do was whisper one small word as he felt his life crumble underneath him.

"No."

[dr-astormylasthurrah]

questions and answers...

done over discord, collected here for archives!

(also, a reminder that the askbox is always open~)

“Does anyone like to collect or hoard things?”

CHIYO: I really, really like collecting headbands!! I’ve got a frankly embarrassing collection at home, from Hello Kitty styled ones to more “mature” looking ones. My grandma gave me a lot of my collection, so they’re really important to me! AMAL: I don’t really have time to collect things. Collecting postage stamps would be a nice hobby if it didn’t get so expensive with limited runs or whatever. TATSUMARU: ... Why would... why would I want to spend money on things I don’t need or want? SENTAROU: I collect interesting yarn. But you didn’t hear that from me and if you ever tell anyone I’m legally obligated to kill you. IRIS: Um... hair clips? I have a few sets depending on what I feel like doing! And I buy more every year for my birthday. It... might be a problem. ASTER: Bold of you to assume I know anything about myself, let alone what I have at home. Bold of you to assume I know where my home is, too. I hope past me collected rocks. Not gemstones or anything, just funky rocks. CLAUDE: If it exists in collectible form, I have a few. Don’t even ask me to pick a specific thing, ahaha. My room’s a mess. Wait, Kinder egg toys! Those are fun. HIRONO: I don’t really collect things, but I do keep a lot of physical photographs of places I’ve been to and people I like. Photography reminds me of Megumi, so I like doing it! ALEXEI: Feathers. Call me predictable, but I prefer “dedicated” or “has a very clear idea of what I want in life”. RIRIKA: I collect anime girl PNGs. Never, ever play gacha idol games. Don’t make my mistakes. TSUKINO: I have a TON of plane tickets!! Well, most of them aren’t mine, and sometimes I just beg them off people at airports and they look at me weird. It’s so neat knowing that these little papers can take you anywhere and that they’re from so many cool places, too! BRENDAN: I hoard anything I can fit in my toolbelt and save for later. So like, odds and ends. I, uh... may have a problem with never throwing things away. TIANA: A lot of my jewelry is from lot sales conducted by my aunt. I suppose most of the reason I have so much of it is to feel closer to my family, though I make some of it myself, too. RYOUJI: I collect... what do I collect, actually? I collect dust from sitting in one place for so long. Haha. I’m kidding, I’m always on my feet, please god send help I just want to sleep. TRISTAN: I don’t see the point in keeping so much stuff. Not to sound like a cleaning show host, but collecting things is such a waste of time, space, and money. No offense. KANEMORI: I don’t usually care about things but I got one of those little, what are they called, aquabead bracelets? From a sponsor? And suddenly my house is full of cheap bracelets. Especially those thin vinyl ones, those are the best. Why has my life come to this though.

“Do they dress for looks or comfort? What’s their fashion angle?”

CHIYO: I’d say looks are... most of it? I mean, of course I want to be comfortable, but ultimately I don’t think I’m ever going to stop worrying about passing. It does help that I genuinely like skirts and dresses and stuff, although I’m still kinda insecure about showing too much skin. I like the aesthetic of Howl’s Moving Castle, so I think that’s the kind of fashion I’d like to wear - something simple and crisp. AMAL: For me, fashion is definitely comfort over appearance. I haven’t really thought about what I wear in a while. Bates says I look like a wannabe TA who’s currently sucking up to the professor and I am ACTIVELY CHOOSING to view that as a compliment. Fuck you, Bates. TATSUMARU: In all honesty, what I wear every day is only a slight modification of what I wear onstage. I haven’t even thought about what I would wear if not this. Although this cloak is nice. SENTAROU: Are you kidding? Comfort all the way, but because of my stupid job I have to look at least somewhat professional. Hence, the tuxedo jacket. This is my life hack or whatever, I just toss it on if I need to look fancy. If I had my way, I’d be wearing T-shirts and jackets all the time. I’m not interested in looking nice for other people’s enjoyment, thank you very much. IRIS: As much as I’d love to dress up, I don’t leave my house very often, so there’s really no point in wearing anything fancy. I guess off the shoulder tops would be cute? I don’t really know. Oh, but if societal standards weren’t a thing, I’d love to have a pair of those kiddie butterfly wings! ASTER: ... I mean assuming what I’m wearing right now is close to my normal clothes, I guess this is looking a lot like function over form. But given the option, I think I’d wear more patterns. Like, yeah, I like simple clothing items, but I also want to wear some kind of personality, y’know? I’d keep this jacket, for example. But I want patterns on my pants. CLAUDE: It’s a mix of both for me! Just, y’know, my idea of “comfort” doesn’t exactly match with other people’s. I try to go for an approachable but fashionable vibe! Thin, large sweater tops, scarves, I’d basically be the poster child of every men’s fashion catalogue if I could be, ahaha. HIRONO: Definitely comfort. I’m used to being overlooked, so I may as well be comfortable. Though I’m told if I dress in a suit and fold my arms, my glare is impressive enough to melt holes in steel. I guess that’s kind of cool, but I’d still rather have people to talk to, y’know. ALEXEI: Comfort. Yes, this includes the cape. The cape is comfort. I am comfortable being dramatic and unknowable to man. Fuck off if you have a problem. RIRIKA: Looks, of course. It’s a little hard for me not to be detail oriented, considering my talent and everything, and besides, dressing nicely makes me feel more confident. I like layering things and using repetitive colors or patterns to tie outfits together. Sometimes I’ll focus all of my energy into an outfit in order to kill God or something. I don’t know. TSUKINO: I don’t know what this is! I wish I could be more punkish when I’m flying with like spikes and everything but noooo apparently that’s a “safety hazard” and “a distraction to the instructor”. Well, joke’s on you, safety instructor, but my normal flight clothes have studs on them ANYWAY. I’m gonna fight the establishment in every way, bitch! BRENDAN: It’s comfort. It’s absolutely just for comfort. I’ve had this jacket since I was 12, 13...? I bought it two sizes too big and it’s so worn out now that I’ve had to sew patches into it, but I hate throwing anything away so I just keep it. So I guess my fashion sense is just... “shabby”. I don’t mind, though! I think it gives me character. TIANA: Looks are MUCH more important than comfort when it comes to clothes. A good outfit can make or break someone’s perception of you. Though I don’t like to wear full business attire every day and I can’t imagine doing so at this time, I think it’s wise to at least have a decent collared shirt at all times. As for my shorts and socks... I think I just have a look going on here. Besides, gyaru fashion is quite cute. So roll with it. RYOUJI: Uh... At this point, imma keep it real with you, my fashion sense is a game of “how androgynous can I go without my parents suspecting anything”. I’m kind of dying in this, considering the heat of wearing two layers and a binder, but I also don’t care anymore. I guess I’m okay wearing T-shirts and stuff if I don’t have anywhere to be, but I’d like to at least LOOK competent, you know? TRISTAN: I’m wearing socks and sandals as we speak. So take a guess. I look exactly like a stereotypical gamer because it’s true. KANEMORI: Weird as this is to say, I favor both. I’m never far from a spotlight, between me and my parents and everything, so I have to look at least kind of presentable at all times. Which sucks, but it’s what I grew up with, so I guess that’s just how my life is. I’m used to just wearing T-shirts and stuff. If I had to wear a tie I guess I’d just choke or something.

For Hirono: What's your favorite genre of music?

EKYOU: Uh... anything, I guess? I have what’s described as “eclectic” taste. But I promise I’ll listen to anything people show me, and I’ll do my best to like it!

Uhmm for Iris: How would your ideal romantic date be?

SUMITAMA: E-eh?? This is super cheesy, but... I like the idea of a traditional date! A fancy dinner with candles and everything. SUMITAMA: Oh, but outside of that, I’d really enjoy a date where I can do things I love with someone I love! Walking around a botanical garden, or having a library day... As long as it’s free. I need to save money for textbooks. College courses are evil, don’t do them.

for ryouji: do you keep your room as clean as you keep the kitchen?

ATSUI: HAHAHAHAHA no I wish. ATSUI: The kitchen thing isn’t so much my rules as my parents’ rules, but it’s good to follow - if your kitchen is a mess you’re going to knock something over and regret everything. This may or may not be from personal experience. ATSUI: But my room?? That’s my HOME. That’s my PRIVATE AREA. I’m going to trip over everything in it and no one can say shit. ATSUI: I should probably start picking up all the laundry though.

Alexei, what is the most beautiful bird you have ever seen and why do you think is the most beautiful?

BAZHANOV: Pigeons are underrated. They have iridescent feathers and yet we as humans still consider them nuisances. It’s a shame. BAZHANOV: I would say something real deep about the nature of humanity to ignore beauty but I’m pretty sure that people hate them because they shit everywhere. Which is fair enough, I suppose.

For Chiyo: This is going to sound really dumb, but do you like to read? If so, what sorts of things do you like to read (genre-wise)?

CHIYO: I like kids books a lot more than young adult stuff. You know how young adult novels these days are always either “gritty sci-fi suspense” or “vaguely Eurocentric fantasy” or “heartwarming realistic fiction”? Kids stories are a lot more creative. And with a lot less pointless death. CHIYO: As for what kind of stories, I think fantasy/sci-fi is nice! Especially books that lean on fairytale elements and mythology, it’s like a history lesson and story at once! CHIYO: But, uh, I don’t understand that series with the talking cats. I tried to read it a few times but I think that’s just something you have to get into as a child.

(This is going off Western genres I don’t actually know shit abt Japanese novels)

Tsukino, do you have a celebrity crush?

CHISAKI: THE LEAD SINGER OF R3BELS OBVIOUSLY.

Does Alexei just have the one mask or does he have multiple for different outfits/occasions

BAZHANOV: Just the one. It’s surprisingly hard to track down decent and inexpensive masks for dramatic occasions. I wish I had more, but it’s also not as if I have the money to procure them. BAZHANOV: ... Unrelated, how feasible is it to break into a bank?

hirono, how did you start ōendan?

EKYOU: After... well, after some family things happened, my oldest brother Rousei thought that I needed something to do. He said ōendan would be good because I’m good at cheering for people, and he said it’s what he did in high school, too. So... I guess I gave it a shot? I’m glad I can encourage people to do their best!! But it’s just not something I’m super into for the sake of myself. But I’m at HPA now, so I shouldn’t be ungrateful, it’s just.... Yeah. EKYOU: Plus, I haven’t had time to pursue photography... It’s kind of driving me up the wall.

If tsukino could do anything other than her talent hat would she do?

CHISAKI: It would be my GOD GIVEN RIGHT as an individual to join some kind of band and go break some hearts and make like ten million dollars! But I’m kinda tone deaf! ... Not like that matters for the kind of music I’m into but hey!!

[bayleafbeeen]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you. Spread the positivity!

Oh hey cool thank you! I actually got a few of these so if I can think of more things, I might answer another one later too. I probably won’t do them all, but thanks to everyone who sent them. Also, these aren’t in any order other than when I thought of them. (Oh god, I got very very wordy here, sorry. I tend to either not say anything at all or ramble and there is no in between.)

My dog, Tinkerbell. (We just call her Tink.) She’s a tiny Chihuahuaand she is the derpiest thing I have ever seen. She really old and she has like no teeth, so her tongue always hangs out. She just :p constantly. I love her so much even though we only inherited her from my great aunt 2 years ago or something like that? When we got her she was so scared of literally everything, but she’s gotten much more relaxed, especially around me. She sleeps with me and I’m the one who gives her love and attention the most. I just love her so much.

YouTubers. Honestly YouTube has helped me so much? I can’t even put it into words properly. (Though when can I ever word well) For one, it gives me something to do and something to watch when I need. Whenever I’m sad or angry about something I can just sit and watch someone miles away playing some game and having fun and saying dumb things that always make me laugh, no matter the mood I’m in. Whenever I am sick and don’t feel well, they always make me feel so much better. I don’t want to know where or how I’d be right now if I hadn’t started watching it. Just thinking about all the work they go through just to make content for people like me and how sweet all of them are is so amazing to me. Plus without them, I wouldn’t have found the next point and wouldn’t even be here where I am on Tumblr. I love them.

The BPS Discord Server. And all the friends I’ve made there. I’m so glad I joined and stayed. Everyone is so nice and supportive of everyone and it’s really great. Seeing everyone talking and interacting with each other is so nice and actually joining in myself? It’s so amazing to be part of this community, it really is. Plus, I think it’s gotten me out of my shell quite a bit? I haven’t used Discord since being in the server I got Discord for. It was for some online game and after being there for a while I was talking and out of my shell for a while till the Server shut down. So it’s really nice to have that again, because it’s so important for me. Love you guys~!

Content Creators. Specifically ones on here and the discord, I really love seeing what others make. I’ve always really loved others art and it’s so cool to see everyone posting original and even fan stuff. I had two close artist friends in middle school and I loved seeing what they made so much. In fact, I still have a bunch of drawings that one of them would give me that I would carry around at school and sometimes show people them. I still cherish them to this day. I’ve never been much of an artist myself aside from when I was pretty little and did stuff for school. The most artsy thing I used to do is coloring in coloring books, which is much easier. So it still just amazes me how people can think about something and just bring it into existence. Like they take this completely black page and make it into something so cool? Same goes for writings and stories, they are so amazing and great to read. I’ve gotten out of the habit of reading like actual books so having things to read still is so great, and for free? People make all these amazing things for absolutely nothing in return and still have the gall to like apologize for it not being good or fast enough? It’s so crazy. I could talk forever about how cool it is, so I’ll stop now and spare you. I seriously love everyone’s creations.

Writing. Even just things like this are just so therapeutic for me? I never really liked writing in Language Arts and such in school because apparently I have trouble putting my thoughts into words and onto paper. But typing is so much better for some reason? Most of the time I ramble on to try and get my point across better, but I love it so much. Especially writing stories. Over the years I’ve started so many little original stories that will probably never see the light of day, but I enjoy it. I started writing in the 5th grade when I decided I was going to write a novel, loosely based on my life back then. (Plus one of my friends helped quite a bit with the story part.) Looking back it was just some dumb daydream love story because I used to have the biggest crush in elementary and middle school. But I’m so glad I started writing it because I wouldn’t be writing today without it. I had so many different little parts written of it and I still have most of them. I was looking back at them a while ago and they are so bad and cringey, but they made me happy back then and they still kind of do, even if they are all pretty horrible. Alright, I’ve ranted too long now but I just love writing things, even if I’m not good at it.

[bill-weasley]

Hi Tana! I was just wondering if you could rec some winteriron fics for me?

@bisexualkimhart​ Hey darling! I’m so sorry this took me so long to answer. I really wanted to give this ask the attention it deserved, so please allow me to link you to the best -- the best of the best WinterIron fics.

Imagine Tony & Bucky - Various Authors

A series of cute, overwhelmingly adorable Tony/Bucky oneshots. These are the fics I devoured when I first got into WinterIron. I would highly recommend starting with these.

Misremembered by Arboreal for sushicorps (Inclinant)

When Loki smirked at Rogers in the middle of a battle and told him he would give Rogers what he wanted most in the world, the mind of his old friend back, Tony had a very bad feeling.

Fate Strings Not Required by Akira_of_the_Twilightfor ezazahaz

His blue eyes lit up with joy as he approached Tony. “Something wrong here?” The new guy gave the first guy--the one insisting he was Tony's soul mate--a once over then turned his full attention on Tony. “You’re looking a little stressed, anything I can do?”

Paths Are Made by Walking by Potrix for 27dragons, Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar), InnerCinema  

The road to recovery is long, winding and a different one for every person walking it. Bucky chooses to help himself the only way he knows how; by doing what he does best.        

Scars by Arvensis5         

When Tony tried to urge the homeless guy sleeping on the steps of the Tower’s loading dock to move, he never expected that he'd found Hydra’s pet assassin—James "Bucky" Barnes. 

Eternal Piece of Me  byPotrix for AvocadoLove        

“What the actual fuck?” Tony blurts, incredulous, when the thick steel door slams shut with a resoundingly final clang. “Am I dreaming? No, seriously, is this a dream? A nightmare? What the hell did you drug me with? Because you,” he says, turning away from the where he’s fruitlessly yelling at the ventilation grid to point an accusing finger at the man who’d very unceremoniously been shoved into the room just a moment earlier, “are supposed to be dead.”  

The Roommate Situationby 27dragons       

At loose ends after his release from the Army, Bucky finds himself with a crappy job at Hydra Securities and an even crappier living situation, sharing a studio apartment with a roommate who thinks a tacked-up sheet creates sufficient privacy to engage in BDSM while Bucky's trying to sleep. Bucky is counting down the days until the end of the lease and spending as much time as he can at Steve's already-overcrowded apartment... Until one night he overhears his roommate ignoring a clear "no" from his latest one-night stand and decides to intervene.        

Forms of Love by bear_bell   

Months after the Avengers' dispute in Germany, the team returns to the US and moves back into the tower. As always, everyone pretends that nothing happened. Tony is just fine with this. He's used to pretending, and he'll be damned if he lets any of them see him flinch.  

The Evidenceby StrivingArtist     

Didn’t notice. Right. Sure. Two brilliant minds, two super spies, and a god didn’t notice when the chattiest man they knew stopped making sound. They just seemed happier than before. Brighter and more cheerful than before. They just seemed like they were more comfortable with him around when he was stone silent.

Amalgam by AvocadoLove                   

When the mind wipes become less effective, HYDRA realize their Asset must have a living soulmate. (Bucky/Tony)

The New Normal byFinely Honed (jaqen_hgar)                 

Tony blinked into the semi-darkness, his heart kindly reminding him of how alive he was by attempting to punch straight through his ribcage in response to the soft, raspy voice. He knew it was fear and adrenaline, but stupidly instead of making a run for it Tony just stood there and thought of cartoons. His imagination had conjured up a visualization of his heart stretching out through his shirt and pounding away in the air all va-va-voom, as if he’d been struck with Cupid’s arrow. 

Beware of Super Soldiers And Their Enticing Laps  by  Confused_Em0  

This apparently was the best time for Bucky to make suggestive gestures, as the soldier patted his thigh lasciviously, “Why don’t you come sit on my lap, plenty of space right here.”

Remember Me (Bring Me Back)by syriala             

Tony Stark always wanted to know who the Soldier was. Now is his chance to get to know one Bucky Barnes. But is that really what he wants?

Winter Babysitter  by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)          

When he finds himself presented with a memory of his time with HYDRA, instead of recoiling in horror, these days the Winter Soldier tends to sigh wistfully. It was all so much simpler back then. Some jerk gives you a target, some bullets, winds you up like the good little automaton you were meant to be, and off you go. If everything went according to plan, people were dead, and you went back on ice. Rinse, repeat.     

It's Not Cheating If...  by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)              

“Wait, hold on,” Tony said, his heart leaping in anticipation. “Are you suggesting he and I fuck? Because I am not interested in that.” The Soldier whimpered, his eyes going all soft and wounded, and Bucky looked about the same, obviously worried he’d made a huge mistake. “If, however, you’re suggesting all three of us fuck in an insane attempt to help you love and accept yourself? I am completely down.”

These are my favorite fics of all time. If you need more, please feel free to drop by my askbox and I will happily recommend some more. And if my followers have good WinterIron fics to recommend for me, PLEASE SEND THEM TO ME! Cause I love me some Tony/Bucky!

[panda-noosh]

hey i've got a pretty specific ask, but it's long and doesn't all fit in the askbox so I'm gonna split it into 3 separate asks - but it's all the same prompt!!! sorry that it's so long, but I'd love to see you write it if you have time!

Request: Shiro'sfem!reader s/o meeting up with Lance and Keith when back on earth andthey're accompanied by an old female friend of theirs from theirclass at the garrison (garrison girl - GG for short but you can nameher whatever). GG notices that s/o is wearing Shiro's military dogtags and is silently like ‘that should be me’ cos she’s been inlove with him since pre-kerberos but it was unrequited because shewas younger and keith’s buddy so ‘big bro’ Shiro only ever sawher as that. (1 of 3)

SoShiro joins them all in the evening at a bar and is all love-y withhis s/o upon arrival + GG is all ‘TAKASHI I MISSED YOU’ and grabshim into a huge hug and for the rest of the night is overly flirtyand trying real hard to make s/o jealous and start a fight but s/o isamused like ‘gurl he loyal AF good luck’ cos she can see thatalthough Shiro is enjoying GG’s company, the neutral body languagehe uses with her and the look of romantic disinterest in his eyes forGG is super clear. (2 of 3)

Softpost night out reassurance to S/O from Keith/Lance when they get home(after Shiro falls asleep) that space dad's only interested in hiss/o and she will never have anything to worry about and that shirowould only ever give his tags away when he was certain the otherperson was the one forever. [tbf this part could actually be separatefrom the rest of this ask if you prefer] ALSO Man I’m soooooo sorrythis was LONG and super specific hahahahaha thanks!! [3 of 3] 

   Her attempts weregood, at least.

   She was clearlytrying hard. Every little giggle that escaped her mouth, or the wayshe would slap Shiro's arm whenever he said anything remotely funny.The way she would practically throw herself across his lap toexaggerate just how hilarious theman was.

   Itwas a good try, but one that was clearly falling flat.

   Youdidn't want to be that person. Thatperson who was so protective over their significant other thathanging out with the opposite gender was banned, off limits, nothappening. Those types of people were annoying, clearly with mildtrust issues.

   Andyou trusted Shiro. That much was clear by the way you were sitting sopatiently between Keith and Lance, watching the show unfold.

   Shirohad arrived only five minutes late to the meal Lance had planned forthe day. He had wanted to get to know Hannah, who was an old familyfriend of Shiro's. You had met her once or twice before; oncewhenever you and Shiro weren't dating, and that gave you plenty oftime to understand just how she felt about your now-boyfriend.

   Shehad always had a crush on him, you knew. From the way she blushedwhenever he walked up to her, or the way she always stiffened at theside of him whenever he addressed her. He called her 'Han' a lot ofthe time, a quirky nickname which was all in good fun, though Hannahtook it as more than that, apparently.

   Thedinner was going well in your eyes. Hannah was quite simplyembarrassing herself, which didn't take away from the fact that yourfettuccine alfredo tasted incredible.

   “So,Shiro,” Hannah started once again. She had started almost everysentence she had spoken with those two words. “Tell me more aboutthe Garrison, then. What happened to you and Matthew?”

   Youinwardly shivered at the way she used Matt's full name. Lance andKeith nearly choked trying to hold back their laughter.

   Shirowas oblivious to the ongoing inside joke being passed between you andthe two boys. He turned to his friend, smiling like he always did.Her face turned beetroot red at the attention and she quickly took asip of her water in an attempt to hide any evidence.

   “Wedon't wanna talk about that here,” Shiro said. “It was a badtime. We're here to have fun, right?”

   Shiroreached over the table and took your hand at the question. Hannah'ssmile immediately wavered, whilst you smiled at Shiro and nodded,intertwining your fingers and running your thumb soothingly over hisknuckles.

   “Right,”Lance hollered. “Han, you're the guest of honour. Tell us a bitabout you.”    Keith's face was red as he tried to hold backhis laughter, and you swiftly kicked him under the table in anattempt to tell him to shut up.

   Hannahraised her perfectly plucked eyebrows, folding her arms over herchest as Shiro pulled his hand back. She seemed to relax at theaction, though Shiro's eyes were still on you, a silent question:“What's going on with Lance and Keith?”

   Youshook your head in reply, waving your hand to inform him that youwould tell him everything later.

   “OnlyShiro calls me Han,” Hannah said. She didn't miss the opportunityto run her fingers over Shiro's arm, which made Keith and Lance bothsplutter with laughter. “Anyway, there's not much to tell. Shiroand I have been friends for as long as we can remember, and he'salways been a big help in my life, you know? We met-”

   “Theyasked about you, Han,” Shiro cut in. “Not about our friendship.I'll tell them all about that later on.”

   Keithcovered his face at this point, nearly spitting up his onion ring ashe tried to bite back even more bubbling laughter. Lance was coveringhis mouth, silent tears of joy rolling down his cheek at thesituation.

   Youcould feel your own amusement bubbling to the surface, and youquickly took a drink of your water in an attempt to hide it.

   Thenight continued on like this – poor attempts at flirting, Shiro'sodd bursts of PDA which made Hannah's entire body tense up. She knewyou two were together – the second time you had the 'privilege' tomeet her, you and Shiro didn't hide the fact that you were a couple.

   Shewas just trying to win something now.

   Gettingback home, you, Lance and Keith were finally allowed to let loose thebubbles of laughter you had been trying to hide the entire night.

   Shirowent straight to bed as soon as he was in the door, pecking yourcheek goodnight before grumbling about how full he was until hisvoice became nothing but a dull pang againstthe thick walls of the ship.

  Assoon as the door closed, you ran your hands through your hair. Keithand Lance fell back against the sofa, howling in uncontrollablelaughter.

   “Didyou see whenever she dropped her napkin and tried to get Shiro topick it up for her?” Lance exclaimed, throwing his head backagainst the cushions he had just squashed. “Oh my God, how you kepta straight face out there, Y/N, I have no idea.”   You shookyour head. “I don't know how I did it, either. It was soembarrassing.”

   “Atleast you know he's loyal,” Keith commented, coming down from hishigh a lot quicker than Lance was. “You have nothing to worryabout. Seriously. We all saw how he was with you tonight.”

   Youarched a brow as you slid off your dress coat, revealing the plaingrey shirt you wore underneath. “How he was?”

   “Shiro,”Keith confirmed. “Don't pretend like you didn't notice. He was allover you tonight. It made our Han quite mad.”    “Oh, mybaby,” Lance squeaked through his laughter.

   Yourolled your eyes. Shiro had never been one for PDA, and the oddholding of your hand or the odd smile sent in your direction wasn'tenough for you to believe that that part of his personality hadchanged, though it certainly was different from what you were usedto. He usually barely even touched you in public – the odd smile,but nothing more. If he was leaving, he would peck your cheek andmaybe tug at your hand, but usually leaving the ship meant business.

   Youpondered on the thought for a while as you get to cleaning up thekitchen which Pidge, Hunk, Allura and Coran had left in a state.

   Youwere almost positive Shiro knew about Hannah's advances towards him.Perhaps he thought you cared – perhaps that was why he was goingthe extra mile to make sure you knew you were his one and only.

   Thatwas the thing, though – you knew. He proved it to you everyday, andhe didn't need to go out of his comfort zone to do it. The way hewoke you up every morning with a soft kiss to your temple, or the wayhe sometimes made you coffee and he apologised whenever he realisedhe had made it too strong, but you would drink it anyway because youtried hard, baby.

   Thatwas what proved to you that you two were in love. Not how he reactedto some girl who was trying too hard.

   Yousmiled to yourself. Our Han.

[alexanderhamllton]

3, 30, 300 [Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader]

Summary: A new phase of your life begins as you move to an apartment in New York with an unknown roommate.

Word Count: 2,568

Warnings: None, maybe one ot two curse words?

Author’s notes: Wow, I've been with so many things in the works between college, collabs and personal matters that I didn’t even see time fly. This is the first thing I’ve written by myself in probably months, so I apologize in advance if I’m a little rusty. This is pure fluff and an adaptation of a story I wrote for my crative writing class, so... I hope you guys like it!

askbox | masterlist 

“Sorry, I didn’t-” your hands touched and the blush on your face became even more evident.

“No, it’s okay. Take it.” Lin’s smile was genuine, and you took the knife without saying a word. The both of you ate in silence, the cutlery against the ceramic plates being the only sound in the small kitchen and neither knowing how the dynamic between you worked.

Well, it was the first time you were sharing an apartment with a stranger, afterall.

You blamed the big city, the fear of conquering the concrete jungle without anyone to go to if needed. Online adverts about sharing an apartment in New York City brought you and Lin-Manuel together, both not knowing what each other looked like until only a few hours earlier, your moving trucks competing for a parking spot in front of the old building.

The two bedrooms were smaller than they looked like in the advert, which was already pretty small. When seeing the amount of boxes you unloaded, Lin gave up the bigger bedroom in exchange for you letting him place his piano in the cramped living room: you were unsure of how many nights you wouldn’t be able to sleep because of the instrument, but your initial bet was ‘many’.

You were right.

3rd day as roommates

It took two nights for you to not be able to sleep. You didn’t blame the music, which was surprisingly good, but the repetition didn’t allow you to drift into slumber and as much as you were more of a night owl than an early bird, you still had classes in the morning.

“Lin?” Your voice was almost above a whisper as you opened the bedroom door and the dimmed light made you scrunch your eyes.

“Hey, sorry, did I wake you?”

“Uh, not really, I didn’t manage to fall asleep at all,” you replied, shooting him a smile after noticing the blush spreading across his face. “Don’t worry, I’m not blaming you.”

“You’re not?” He turned from the piano, watching as you took a seat in the couch that your mother bought for the place. It smelt like new furniture and you still weren’t comfortable with it.

“I’m not, at least not entirely.” Lin chuckled before scratching the back of his neck, and you took that split second to take in his features for the first time. “New York can be… Intimidating.”

“You think so?”

“You ask a lot of questions,” you teased, making him laugh.

“Sorry. New York has always been my home, I was born and raised here. Just came back from college, actually.”

“What did you major in?”

“Theater Arts and English.”

“Makes sense, because of the… Composing.” You commented, closing your eyes for a second as you internally cringed. “Do you- Do you want some tea? Coffee, maybe?”

“I’ll never say no to coffee,” he replied, smiling. You got up, heading to the small joined kitchen as he followed you, leaning against the opposite kitchen counter from the one you were getting the mugs from. “We never really talked about each other, huh?”

“We met two days ago. And it’s not like we’re here all the time, either,” you replied, turning to face him for a second before getting back to the mugs.

“That’s true… What do you do the whole day?” Lin gave himself a little push before sitting on the kitchen counter, only a few seconds after you handed him his black coffee. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” you smiled, before sitting on the counter as well and cupping the mug full of green tea in your hands. “I work the most stressful job of all: Retail,” his apologetic face made you giggle. “I know, it’s a nightmare.”

“I can’t say it’s the best job in the world, no.” You felt warm inside that you blamed on the tea you just took a sip from and not Lin’s sympathetic look. “But what do you wanna do?”

“Me? I am majoring in history, so I guess teaching? I’m not sure, I still have a year to decide.” You placed your mug next to you before getting your hair in a messy ponytail. “The future I’m- I’m scared of it.”

“Me too.” He took a long sip before letting out a sight. “I just feel a bit stuck, I mean, in college I had this whole thing with the theater program, I directed a few plays and even started writing my own musical,” you raised your eyebrow and he nodded, the disbelief in himself making you laugh. “I know, and now I am just surrounded by papers and badly written essays and a huge ass question mark of where my next step is supposed to be.”

“Don’t you like being a teacher?”

“I like teaching, the kids are great but… This was never the plan. Broadway was the plan, Hollywood was the plan.”

“So stick to it,” you replied with a shrug.

“Easy to say, not that easy to do.”

“Lin… We just met. There’s no reason for you to listen to me, but-” you lifted your finger, making him hold his reply. “You look like a cool dude. You don’t leave the toilet seat up, you don’t make a mess in the living room, all that and the fact that you gave me the bigger bedroom make me believe you are a good person, and we need more good people in the world right now. You’ll find your way to the spotlight.”

“Wow, that’s… A better first impression than I’ve imagined,” he smiled.

“It was well deserved,” you replied, taking a sip of your green tea.

After almost a whole kettle of hot water and a conversation that moved from the kitchen to the living room, the sun was coming up, its light entering the living room window from between the metal bars of the firescape. You were glad it was a Saturday night, because the both of you fell asleep on the couch, empty mugs lying on the floor and the duvet you grabbed from Lin’s bed between three and four in the morning covering the both of you.

Carefully, you got up without waking him, collecting the dishes from the floor,  placing them on the kitchen sink as quietly as possible and heading to your bedroom, but not before taking a look at your new roommate asleep on the couch.

You didn’t have an explanation on why or how you knew, but he entered your life to stay.

30th day as roommates

“You did not just do that… LIN!” You voice echoed through the small apartment as you turned to the bedroom doors, a confused Lin popping out of his room. “Did you eat my chocolate cake?”

“Maybe?” His voice displayed a fake smile and puppy eyes, but you fell for that way too many times in the past month for it to happen again. That was chocolate cake, it was personal.

“C’mon, seriously? I just had the worst day and-”

“Hey, how about we go to Carlos’ and I buy you a new slice of cake and… A cappuccino?”

“Extra cream?” You stated, getting a nod in return. “Fine.”

“Okay, lemme just grab my shoes.” He disappeared inside his bedroom before coming back with his worn out converses on.

Carlos’ was a small bakery you and Lin found only a week after moving in. In desperate need for a pastry, you asked the landlord for good spots to eat, and she said Carlos’ has the best pasteles in town.

Your landlord was right.

Serving not only cakes, not only coffee, but typical latino pasteles as well, Carlos was a chubby man with an even bigger heart, and by the fourth time you and Lin showed up at his place, he already knew your names without needing to ask.

“Carlos!” Lin’s voice was excited and the man turned with a huge grin on his face before giving Lin a handshake over the counter. “Please tell me you still have that marvelous chocolate cake [Y/N] bought yesterday.”

“Let me guess, he ate the whole thing by himself?”

“I can’t leave him home with my pastries, like, ever.” You bumped shoulders with Lin, who rolled his eyes while Carlos observed the whole scene in delight. “Please tell me you still have it!”

“I don’t, sorry chica,” you playfully slapped Lin, that pouted at you as he held back a laugh. “I do have that meringue cake with strawberries...”

“Oh my god, yes!” The taste of the heaven-sent cake was still one of the best sensations you had in the past months, and your overreacted response to the mention of it made the both guys laugh.

As you and Lin occupied the table by the window, waiting for Carlos to bring the order, you fell into a comfortable silence.

At least for you. Apparently, Lin didn’t find it that comfortable.

“Hey uh,  so you came home late last night…” His smile was sympathetic, but the emotion didn’t get to his eyes. Instead, they were a mix or worry and if you didn’t know him any better, jealousy.

“I… Did.” The reply came with widened eyes from your part.

“How was it?”

“Honestly, not bad.” You shrugged. “He paid for the movie ticket and gave me a popcorn.”

“Good movie?”

“Not really, no. Good popcorn though, very buttery.”

“Do you think you’ll see him again?”

“You’re asking a lot of questions, Lin.” You joked right before Carlos showed up, bringing the slice of cake and two coffees and disappearing as fast as he appeared. You thanked him with a smile before turning to your roommate again.

“Sorry. Curiosity I guess, I mean you didn’t even mentioned you were seeing anyone and all of a sudden you ditched Mario Kart night and didn’t even tell me about it and of course I don’t mind but-”

“Oh shit…. I completely forgot, I am so sorry.” Your jaw dropped as you noticed how inconsiderate you were towards Lin.

In the beginning, the both of you only had each other as close friends, but it didn’t take long for you to make friends in the store, complaints about customers and hours bonded you and the other employees; the same happening with Lin at Hunter, where he was working as a substitute teacher. You had a theory liking Lin was inevitable, and nothing had proved you wrong in the past 30 days.

“It’s okay, really, don’t worry, I just graded a few papers instead and it really gave me like, a chance to-”

“Lin, you’re rambling,” you commented, grabbing a bite of your cake.

“Sorry,” he chuckled.

“But tell me, why the sudden curiosity for my dating life?” You asked simply, catching Lin completely by surprised as he took a sip of his coffee and almost making him spit it.

“Your dating life? No, of course not,” you noticed the redness taking over his cheeks as you ate one of the sliced strawberries in your cake. “It’s just a way to make conversation.”

“Oh, alright.” You faked a smile while using your fork to swirl the meringue on your plate, the cake all of a sudden not looking as appetizing as before.

“But… I was just wondering if you still are, you know… ”

“Available?” You joked, trying to disguise your disappointment.

“I was going to say single but available also works.”

You almost choked on the meringue cake, taking in a few seconds and a sip of your cappuccino before you were able to let out a ‘mhmm’ accompanied by an excited nod, that made Lin’s eyes light up.

“Great! I mean not great, if you don’t want to be single but great because I was thinking about, maybe if you have a day off, I know you don’t work on Fridays and-”

“Lin… ”

“Alright!” He laughed, taking a deep breath before looking you in the eye, hope all over his features. “Do you wanna watch a movie on Friday night? Maybe, you know, come to my place?”

“Well, your place is my place...”

“Exactly my point,” he agreed, the smile on his face growing bigger by the second.

“You bring the movie and I bring the candy.”

“No popcorn?”

“Nah, it’s overrated.”

300th day as roommates

“Shhh, no, come back here.” Lin’s arms tightened around your waist as he pulled you back into his embrace, not letting you leave.

“Lin I have to go to work, my shift is in an hour,” you whined, but the warmth of his breath against the back of your neck made you stop trying to get out of the bed.  As his lips touched your skin you felt shivers going down your spine. But the good kind.

The best kind.

“Five more minutes?” His voice is just a whisper, and you turn to face him with a smile.

“Just five minutes.” You agree, cupping Lin’s face with both hands before placing a kiss on his lips.

“You know, I’ve been thinking-”

“This is a dangerous thing,” he rolled his eyes at your joke before continuing.

“Let me finish, I was thinking that this would be the perfect time to ask you to move in with me.”

“Well, it’s kinda late for that, I mean...” You laughed, making a motion to the apartment you shared. “But maybe we can have our own version of that?”

“And that is?”

“You can move to my bedroom.” You suggested, his soft lips stretched into a smile. “What do you think?”

“I think,” Lin started, his lips almost like a ghost against your skin, “that we should turn my bedroom into an office.”

“That’s actually a pretty good idea, considering my shelves are full and so are yours.”

“Right? And we can take the piano out of the living room as well.”

“What? No!” You pouted, making him laugh.

“No? For real?”

“Yeah, I love it now.” You buried your face on the crook of Lin’s neck, taking in his smell of coffee and shaving cream, remembering the smell of the duvet from the first night you spent awake talking, the nights after that one which grew into a friendship, that turned into dating only a few weeks later. You could almost listen to the notes echoing in the apartment, melodies still unfinished that played while you were diving into history books. The memories from almost a year that were already worth a lifetime. “I love listening to you play.”

“I love you, have I told you that recently?”

“I love you too, and I think at least three times this morning,” you smiled as he placed a kiss on your forehead.

Lin’s bed as sold only a few days later and his bedroom turned into an office. Two years later it was repainted: the desk and shelves were substituted by a small white crib and a rocking armchair, among other things necessary in a baby’s bedroom. The room was Estela’s now.

When you decided to move out of the apartment, your daughter had just turned one year old, you guys still had the first duvet you shared, and the couch was going to stay for the next person to build new memories around it.

As you handed the keys to your landlord for the last time, with Estela in your arms and Lin by your side, you noticed the instincts were right: he came to your life to stay.

[sunshinemiranda]

After Hours - Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader

Summary: Based on the prompt: “I have a key to the theatre, and sometimes I go there when I need to think. Apparently so do you.”

Words: 5,296 (ren and i are just...yeah)

Warnings: Swearing. 

A/N: From Ren (@alexanderhamllton) - Guys, it happened!!! Here’s my first collab with Liv, which I’m so so excited about, we wrote the whole thing in one afternoon and I couldn’t be more proud of the result. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do <3

From Liv - I am still dizzy from how much I enjoyed writing this. I finally had the honour of collaborating with Ren (aka real human sunshine) and it was so much more than I could have ever hoped for. Honestly, it is amazing. Happy reading!

askbox | masterlist

There is something very beautiful about a theatre without an audience. It is filled to the brim with potential, all these seats just waiting to be filled, an empty stage that could become an entirely different universe. The lights are dimmed down, and from inside a deserted Richard Rodgers, it is as if the entire world has stopped spinning.

You didn’t recognize the set anymore. Romeo and Juliet had faded to reveal two new love interests: Eliza and Alexander, their names synonymous with the Broadway musical. From the show you were a part of to the hit-show Hamilton that took over your old workplace, you only recognized the empty seats, so familiar to you even though you never had to step on stage; it took many promises of not touching a thing to your friend Jonah, who worked with the security of the place, to let you in.

Crew members are ghosts, who aren’t able to have an excuse to be on stage during the show’s run, but they are beyond useful. They are the backbone of the art the audience sees. You stood in the middle of the stage, looking out at the wide expanse of space, filling the air with your thoughts. In a room like this, your ideas and dreams had room to stretch and grow, lifting their waif-like limbs. Silence fell heavy, and remained unbroken. Slowly, your eyes closed and surrendered to a feeling of infinite peace.

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

You whipped around with a very loud, “Holy fuck,” and found that someone else seemed to spend their time in deserted theatres too.

“Who are you?” His voice was careful and intimidating, a combination rare to your ears, especially when you visited the theatre.

“Who are you?” It didn’t even cross your mind that you weren’t in a place to ask that question.

“I asked first.” He quipped, the shadow of a smile starting to tilt at his mouth.

“I asked second!” You hurried, then closed your eyes with a visible cringe. This was going horribly. “Sorry. You just sort of freaked me out with the whole, Phantom of the Opera style sneak-up.”

“I can respect someone that makes a Phantom reference,” he replied with a smile. “I’m Lin.”

“[Y/N],” you replied, crossing your arms. Why you were so defensive was beyond you, especially because the guy didn’t seem threatening at all. “I was a crew member on Romeo and Juliet, if that helps to explain my presence,” you took the small key from your pocket, shaking it so he’d know you were telling the truth. “I still have a key. Coming here kind of calms me down, sorry for intruding.”

He chuckled, looking past you at the rows of seats. “God, I can relate to that. I love coming here after hours. It’s like the calm after a storm. The water is still.”

An unexpected smile came to your face and you nodded, letting your crossed arms fall. “Yes! Exactly.”

“But seriously. You can’t be here.”

“Oh.” Your brow furrowed. “Right, sorry about that. I’ll show myself out.”

“You didn’t let me finish. You can’t be here. Let’s not let anyone find out.” He grinned, reaching his hand out for you to shake. It was an offer for what seemed like an adventure. “Deal?”

“Deal,” you replied, shaking his hand. “So… Lin. What brings you to the theatre after midnight?”

“I would really like to know your excuse first. I mean, this is my play.”

“I asked first,” you joked, making him chuckle.

“The pressure. The show is everywhere, and I’m proud of it, I really am, but it can be overwhelming. People expect too much, you know?”

“Not really. Romeo and Juliet didn’t do very well,” you smiled, walking towards the front of the stage before sitting there, your legs dangling over the edge. “But I do see your show everywhere, so I can only imagine the pressure.”

“Wasn’t this version the one with Orlando Bloom?” Lin asked, before sitting down next to you.

“Yep, turns out fame doesn’t compensate the lack of theatrical talent.”

“Ooh, harsh!” He pulled a hand to his chest as if he couldn’t quite believe it. “That’s Legolas you’re insulting, right there.”

“I’m not scared of an elf who never runs out of arrows.” You grinned.

He laughed, and it struck you that it was a good one. It came right from his chest, full-breathed, as it sort of took over his body. In the low lights, the shadows only allowed you to see aspects of his face. From what you could decipher, he was far prettier than any Romeo Montague could have been. With the echoing of both your laughs dissipating into acoustics bouncing off the walls, a silence fell that was more comfortable than you thought it would be. It struck you that Lin was a natural with people.

“Being on this stage makes me want to belt some Shakespeare,” you laughed, and he raised a mischievous eyebrow before standing, reaching out to pull you up with him.

“Now that’s something I want to see.” Lin grinned, ignoring your protests and hurried off stage to sit in the audience.

“Hey!” Blushing with embarrassment now, you squinted to search for him in the seats. “There’s a reason why I was in the crew and not cast, you know.”

“I’m waiting, Ms. [Y/N],” his voice called. It made a smile grow on your face.

“Before I start, I wanna say that you asked for this!” You warned him, before clearing your throat. “Should I go for Romeo and Juliet, or is that too cliché?”

“Whatever you like, I’m just the audience!” He shouted.

A pause settled into the theatre, and you closed your eyes, focusing on yourself. Every night, through working backstage, you would always take the time to admire one monologue. It was your favourite.

“Come, night; come, Romeo; come, thou day in night; for thou wilt lie upon the wings of night whiter than new snow on a raven's back.” You stepped forward, unable to see him in the audience, but ultimately alert to his presence. “Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-brow’d night, give me my Romeo, and, when he shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars, and he will make the face of heaven so fine that all the world will be in love with night and pay no worship to the garish sun.”

There was a long moment of silence, filled with electrifying tension, before he made his presence visible by standing and delivering the most enthusiastic standing ovation you had ever seen in your life.

“Okay, tell me again why you were in the crew and not on stage starring in the thing?” He laughed, running to the edge of the stage before climbing to meet you there. “That was amazing, you knew every line!”

“Thank you, I- I really liked that monologue, it was one of the few things I genuinely enjoyed about this gig, besides the place.” You looked around, remembering the many nights where the theatre was empty, without a set, without any props backstage, and you had total freedom to just wander around discovering all the little quirks it had to offer. “Have you guys found the secret room yet?”

“Secret room? I don’t think anyone’s found that yet,” he answered with a smile. “Do you know where it is?”

“I do, but it’s a secret after all,” you smiled, Lin shooting you a look.

“C’mon, you can’t just tell me there’s a secret room and not show me where it is, that’s just plain torture!” He argued dramatically, making you roll your eyes and laugh.

“Fine! Are you ready to climb some stairs?”

“Not at all.”

His answer made you laugh, and before you knew it, the two of you were taking the stairs backstage before heading down a small corridor, the ceiling so low you had to crouch before you had the space again. It was a small room, filled with old cables and mechanic gear, and on the opposite wall, a window. It didn’t open and you never figured out if it was because it was broken or sealed somehow, but it gave you a view of the stage no other room in that whole theatre would.

“It’s not that big of a deal, but it’s a fun place to watch rehearsals, you can see the wings and the stage at the same time,” you explained.

He stared, wordless, out the window, eyes widening as he took in the sight. You would see the entire Richard Rodgers kingdom from this point. His silence started to make you nervous.

“Legends say this was the old tech room before they got moved up there,” you pointed. “That’s why you can see everything.”

“[Y/N],” he murmured, turning toward you with wide eyes. The way he said your name sent a thrill down your spine. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” your voice was almost a whisper.

You came back one night a week after that. And so, it seems, did Lin.  The two of you explored every nook and cranny of the theatre, and after-hours exploration became the day of the week you looked forward to the most. It became a silent pact that every Wednesday would be the night to meet up and engage in all kinds of shenanigans: you felt like a teenager again, sneaking around with a guy you just met in the middle of the night.

“Okay, Avenue Q or Book of Mormon?”

“Hands down Book of Mormon. Avenue Q is great, though. I just have a soft spot for Andrew Rannells.” You grinned, reaching into the bag of yogurt covered pretzels sitting on the stage between the two of you.

“She likes Andrew Rannells. A girl after my own heart!” He pulled a Southern Belle swoon, fainting back onto the stage as you laughed. 

“And you got to have him in your show too, lucky thing, ugh, I hate you.”

He reached over and snatched the pretzel you were holding inches from your mouth, grinning as he bit into it. “You would never.”

“Try me, Miranda. Wait, Singin’ in the Rain, or Sound of Music?”

In complete unison, the two of you announced, “Singin’ in the Rain.”

“I’m so whipped for Gene Kelly.” You sighed.

“You and me both.”

You lay down beside him, staring at the rafters in the ceiling, realizing that in doing so, you had closed the space by a considerable distance. He was close enough for you to reach out and trace the contours of his face, run your fingertips over his cheekbones and tap your index against his nose. Of course, you didn’t. But the thought was there anyway.

“Turn around, bright eyes…”

The quiet of the theatre was perforated by his voice ringing out softly, and you grinned. Stepping, as quietly as possible, closer and closer, you made your way to the orchestra pit where he was sitting at the piano, accompanying himself.

“Every now and then, I fall apart!” your voice startled him, but he knew that song like the back of his hand.

“And I need you now tonight,” your voices blended together while you both sang between smiles, Lin looking at you in adoration as you raised your eyebrows, surprised with the fact he didn’t even flinch before starting a duet with you. He played the notes without taking his eyes off you, and while a few weeks ago this would have intimidated you, now you wouldn’t trade that for the world.

“There’s nothing I can do, total eclipse of the heart...” you both finished the song together, the last notes he played floating around you before the silence.

“[Y/N].”

“Lin.”

“You didn’t tell me you could sing. That was beautiful.”

“It was beautiful because you were carrying it with your voice and the piano. Don’t get ahead of yourself now.”

“Hey, have I ever lied to you?” He grinned standing and taking your hand to tug you closer. “Here. I’ll show you the piano arrangement so you can carry it on the piano and your voice. Just like me.”

He placed his hands over yours to play the chords and melody with you, but you couldn’t spend a second of that time concentrating. He was so close, and smelled like cologne and the wood on the stage. The warmth of his hands was sending your head into a reeling mess.

“You’re not concentrating, are you?” He grinned.

You shook your head, looking down and hiding a smile when a strand of hair fell from the back of your ear. Lin’s hand slowly moved to put it back in place, and you couldn’t help but turn to face him, his lips now inches away  from yours. Your eyes shifted from his eyes to his lips, for a split second before you came back to your senses, biting your lip. He was so close, it wouldn’t take much to just move an inch and kiss him senseless, in a way you had wanted to for a while now.

“Mr. Miranda, have- oh, I’m so- I’m sorry.” Jonah opened the door abruptly, making you and Lin jump apart like scalded cats. A blush worsened the colour already on your cheeks, and Lin refused to look you in the eye.

“It’s okay, Jonah, what happened?” Lin replied, running his fingers through his hair while calming himself down.

“Just letting you know I’m leaving earlier tonight, I changed shifts with Marco and I thought it’d be better to let you know...” Jonah replied, scratching his head, his cheeks flushed.

“We’ll leave soon, Jonah. Thanks.” The security guard nodded before taking a weird bow before leaving, making the both of you giggle. Lin turned to you, a sheepish smile on his face. “I guess we’re not staying for long tonight.”

“From experience, I can say Marco is not the friendliest person I know,” you commented, now incapable of looking Lin in the eyes without blushing.

“Finally, someone says it! We better get out of here before he finds out we’re intruding.” He laughed, trying his best to smooth over the awkward moment.

Outside the theatre, the two of you said quiet goodbyes accompanied with shy smiles, and by the time you got home, your head was reeling with that same dizziness. God, you had it bad.

Lin was alone on the next Wednesday. She’s probably just late, caught up with some extra work, he thought, but the feeling of dread stuck in his stomach through the two hours he sat at the Richard Rodgers and pretended he had “work to do”.

He couldn’t help but absently wonder if it was his fault that you weren’t there. Maybe the “Almost Kiss Incident” had scared you away. The worst part of that realization was the fact that he might not have a chance with someone he’d fallen head over heels for. It made an endless feeling of inadequacy settle into his stomach, leaving him restless and messy.

Later that night, he asked Jonah if you had left a message, a sign, anything. But you didn’t. He didn’t have your number, or an address, but Lin also felt it wasn’t his place to ask you about you not showing up that night. It was technically a silent agreement, no strings attached, but he didn’t feel that way about it. He never felt that way about it. He only hoped that you didn’t either.

He started coming there on the nights that weren’t the “schedule” for you guys. He would try Mondays, Thursdays, Sundays, any time that you might be there just in case you had mixed up the dates or couldn’t make it on Wednesdays anymore. But he didn’t see you. Jonah noticed how Lin started to come more often and decided to step up, as your friend.

“Mr. Miranda?” his voice echoed in the empty theatre, where Lin was reading a book, pretending he wasn’t using it to waste time while waiting for you.

“Yes, Jonah?” he replied, without taking his eyes from the book.

“She’s not coming tonight.” The statement made him look, a mix of concern and disappointment on his face. “She usually doesn’t come that often. She started coming every week because of you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jonah,” he said, faking a smile.

“Sir, with all due respect… Before you, she would only come here maybe once a month, sometimes not even that. Her family doesn’t live here, in New York.” The security guard’s words made Lin realize how abnormal the whole situation was: you were both strangers until you met that one night, the random encounters turned into scheduled nights and that, in his head, was not the reason why he liked that theatre in the first place. Lin nodded, closing the book before saying goodnight to Jonah, leaving the building by the back door.

The next night Lin showed up after-hours was a Thursday, not a Wednesday. He didn’t have a show that night or any hope of finding you there anymore. This time around he actually needed the silence. When he got to the theatre, Jonah hurried towards him the moment he entered.

“She left a note last night,” he announced, holding a grin.

“She came here?” Lin couldn’t hold his disbelief, that quickly turned into a smile.

“Yes, sir. Asked for you and everything. Told her to leave a note in your dressing room but you didn’t show up today.”

“Ironic. It’s the first time in months I take a break on a day that’s not Saturday, and this happens,” he joked, before patting Jonah in the shoulder, heading inside the now empty theatre. “Thanks man.”

When he got to his dressing room, he immediately noticed the note, written on the back of one of those ads people hand out in vain on the streets, taped to the mirror.

Lin,

I’m sorry I didn’t come the past few weeks. I had an emergency with my parents and had to leave right away, didn’t know how to contact you. I’m back now, as you can see. I hope you haven’t forgotten about me yet. See you next week?

Whipped for Gene Kelly,

[Y/N]

PS: Here’s my phone number, can’t believe you didn’t have that already!

He smiled, grabbing his phone to save your number in his contacts within moments. There was no way he was going to go another two weeks without talking to you. He needed that. You didn’t hate him! Lin laughed to himself before folding the note and putting between one of the notebooks he kept around.

To: [Y/N]

From: Lin

See you next week.

Lin’s sleep schedule was fucked. Honestly, he had started sleeping till 1 on the weekends, falling asleep at 4 (on an early night), and all because of two things: he spent all his time waiting for his best girl at the Richard Rodgers, and without the after midnight talks that calmed him, it was too difficult to fall asleep. Without [Y/N], there seemed to be no organization in his life. When she appeared in the doorway, like an angel come to lift him from the groggy mess that was his life recently, he rubbed at his eyes, disbelieving and wondering if his lack of sleep had started to make him delusional.

“You look like crap, Miranda.”

It was the best thing he’d heard all month. Without a second thought, he hurried off the stage and surged toward you, pulling you into an unexpected hug that was long overdue. You stumbled a bit, at the sudden weight of his grasp but, with a laugh (and a blush), you were wrapping your arms around his waist and revelling in his warmth.

“I missed you, [Y/N].” He murmured into your hair, the strength of his hold telling you that he wasn’t planning to let go any time soon.

“And I missed you.” You replied, a bit of hurt tugging at your heart while you said this. He had no idea how you really felt.

He moved away, letting his hands slide down to take hold of both your hands instead. “Come on. We’ve got catching up to do.”

He led you up to the stage, the regular spot at the edge of the stage just waiting for the two of you. As you sat down, he twisted sideways, and before you could question his strange methods, his head nestled into your lap and he actually sighed, as if he had been waiting for this physical contact, this moment. Your heart fluttered.

“So, any special reason why you look this tired?” You asked, slowly combing his hair with your fingers.

He hummed, eyes closed as he took the moment to find repose. When he spoke, his voice was soft and mumble-y. “Mhm. Was waitin’ for you.”

Thank God he was turned away from you, because a flaming blush spread across your cheeks like wildfire. Did he have any idea how beautiful he looked, half asleep, with his head in your lap? It was altogether unfair, and your heart tugged again, the way it always did when he was around.

“Lin…” You breathed. “You need sleep, you dork. What the hell were you thinking?”

“That you hated me, or something.” He murmured. “I came here so many times, [Y/N]. So many times. And you weren’t here. I know some of the things I do are disappointing, but I couldn’t deal with the fact that I might just lose you. So I had to fight for it. I guess losing sleep is my way of doing that.”

“Stupid, stupid, thing.” You scolded, your heart starting to beat a thousand times faster at his words. “You aren’t disappointing, Lin.”

He smiled, choosing not to reply as you felt his breaths even out. Looking down, you brushed a hand over his cheek, curling over his body to see his face. 

“Lin? Are you-are you asleep?” You held back a chuckle that might jostle him and wake the sleepy figure once he nodded. Instead, you just kept on carding through his hair, looking down and endlessly staring at him, admiring, thinking over and over again about how much you adored this dork.

“You are so bright, Jesus, I’m sure you could power these stage lights for ten years.” The statement came from somewhere you had stashed away all your thoughts about Lin, including your feelings. It wouldn’t hurt to say them while he couldn’t hear, right? “I admire you so much, you have no idea. Don’t let yourself think you are inadequate, or useless, or just not worth it. Because you aren’t. You are the leader of this successful show, you have created so many things that have taken the world by storm. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t met you here.”

A small smile had crept up on his lips as he tried his best to keep the sleeping facade in place. Unbeknownst to you, he had been listening, and all his hopes about a future with you became possible. He quickly pushed the smile from its place to listen to your words again. You didn’t notice.

The next day, Lin looked like a Puerto Rican ball of energy backstage. The whole cast and crew noticed he was on a roll, and Tommy hated to be the one to contact him about the bad news.

“Lin?” Tommy knocked on the doorframe of Lin’s dressing room before entering, revealing a half-dressed Lin being mic’d. “We have a problem.”

“Jasmine’s dress suffered a small… accident. No one knows for sure, she swears she didn’t trip, but the fabric of the Maria skirt was ripped in the back, really badly. Like all the way up to the bodice.” Lin’s eyes widened as he took in Tommy’s words: today was the day off for the wardrobe crew. One of them was available for emergencies, but added to this, there wasn’t enough time.

“D-Don’t worry, I know someone.” Lin waited a few seconds until they finished mic’ing him up and got to his phone, searching for your number in the contact list.

“[Y/N]?” His voice was rushed, but Lin was not the energetic type of nervous, he was methodical, and you recognized his tone right away.

“Everything okay?” You asked immediately, his tone setting off alarm bells in your head.

“Can you come to the theatre, like, right now? We had an incident with Jasmine’s dress and-”

“I’m leaving work right now, I’ll be there in ten, okay?” You quickened your pace, dodging people in the street, making your way to the Richard Rodgers.

“You’re a lifesaver,” he replied, relief taking over his voice.

“Don’t thank me yet,” you joked, hanging up the phone as you broke out into an almost-sprint.

By the time you got the theatre, Lin had already left a pass for you to come in, making it easier for you to rush your way to the dressing rooms. You ignored the looks from the cast that you only heard stories about and knocked on Lin’s dressing room door. When he opened, he was in all his Alexander Hamilton glory.

“Hey, Mr. Hamilton,” you smiled, trying without success to hide that you were the human version of the heart eyes emoji and it was getting embarrassing fast.

“Thank God you’re here!” His greeting was interrupted by the speakers announcing there was two minutes to places, and he rushed with you to the girls’ dressing room. “Jas, this is [Y/N], she’ll fix your dress, just… Show her the way, okay?”

“So you’re Lin’s guardian angel!” She greeted you. You didn’t have time to blush and simper at that but oh, how you did. A red colour spread across your nose bridge and you didn’t notice that Lin didn’t look any better. Stuttering, he hurried out of the room. Jasmine took the red dress from the rack. It looked bad.

“Jesus,” you murmured, staring at the tear that ranged from the hem of the skirt, all the way to the ties on the back.

“I know.” Jasmine sighed, sheepish.

“Okay. We can’t let these stitches be seen, so we’re going to do this inside out. You have red thread, right? Give me some time with the needle. I promise you, I’ll get it done.”

She handed you the sewing kit for emergencies and thanked you as many times as she could before someone called her to places, leaving you alone with your task. You took a deep breath before getting into work. The songs went by as you sewed the dress calmly, being careful to not let anything to visible. She’d need a whole new skirt later, but that would have to do it for now. When you finally finished, ‘History Has It’s Eyes on You’ was almost over. Reaching over to hang the dress in its place, you admired the work you managed to do in such short notice.

Jasmine rushed into the room, still wearing her yellow dress, squealing when she saw the red skirt fixed. “You are amazing!”

“It’s no big deal, just be careful with it. You’ll need to ask wardrobe for a new skirt later, okay?”

“Paul will kill me,” she laughed, her nerves mixed with relief. You helped her get dressed, being extra careful with the fabric this time. Once she was in her red costume, Lin knocked on the door.

“Come in!” Jas called, and he peeked in, closing the door behind him before looking up to see the repairs you’d made. He froze, speechless and not able to believe his eyes.

“She really is a guardian angel,” Jas grinned, breezing past him with a wink that you missed.

An awkward silence filled the room and you made yourself busy with fidgeting at the hem of the sleeves on your shirt.

“So how’s the show go-” You attempted.

“I love you.”

If there was any air in that room, you couldn’t tell. Your jaw dropped (quite unflatteringly) and you were about to answer when someone rushed into the dressing room.

“Lin, Lac has a few things to talk to you during intermission, if you could come real quick...”

“Uh, I-sure, yeah,” he replied, his eyes shifting from the stagehand to you. “I’ll be right back. Or after the end of the show, please-please stay until the end of the show?”

You nodded before Lin got literally pulled from the dressing room, his eyes never straying from yours. That left you alone once again. You took a deep breath, processing the words he just threw at you moments before he exited. It was too good to be true, right? It wasn’t possible. Nothing like this happened in real life. This was the ending of some sap’s favourite rom-com, not your life. Too many thoughts weighed too heavy on your mind, so you surrendered to distraction, deciding to watch the rest of the show from your secret room.

The view was even more extraordinary than you remembered. The lights looked different from up there, the performances looked more sharp and you noticed the patterns on the dance moves as the second act came on. Tears rolled down your face as you watched the last moments of the show, and you missed the final bows as you made your way downstairs once again. It was just when the cast was returning to their dressing rooms, still fully dressed in period costumes, that you found Lin. He met you halfway up the last flight of stairs, the steps levelling the two of you out just enough for him to look right into your eyes.

“Secret room?” He asked, his voice slightly above a whisper.

“Yep,” you replied, popping the ‘p’ and making him chuckle. “Listen, Lin, I just-”

Within seconds, he surged forward, hands cupping your jaw as he pressed his lips to yours, soft, forgiving, and altogether the sweetest moment you had ever witnessed. You reached up to brush your fingers over his cheek as he pulled away, searching your face to see if his decision had been a mistake. After seeing only soft eyes that looked adoringly back, a slow grin spread across his face.

“Thank you,” he whispered, letting his forehead rest against yours. His eyes closed momentarily.

“It was just a ripped costume.”

“No, I mean for everything. For always believing in me, for being the reason I fall asleep happy at night, for making me feel adequate. You are everything I need, [Y/N].”

His declarations resulted in a bright red blush and as screams and applause from his castmates surrounded you, you noticed (for the first time), that the both of you were in the middle of the after-show rush. You giggled, hiding your face on the crook of Lin’s neck as he turned around with a smile that could light up New York city.

He led you down the staircase, hand tucked into yours and still clad a Hamilton costume. The smile he kept giving you, he looks he didn’t have to sneak anymore, all of it had made your heart feel lighter than air. This was possible. It didn’t always happen, but some people were lucky enough to experience that.

“Lin.”

“Mhm?”

“That time on the stage, when you fell asleep in my lap. You were awake, weren’t you?”

He turned to you, eyes bright with mischief as he shrugged shamelessly. “I’ll never tell.”

You rolled your eyes, bumping his hip with yours. “I hate you.”

“I love you.”

You tried to fight it. You really did.

“Dammit, I love you too.”

“Oh thank God,” he grinned. “Otherwise I don’t know what I would have done.”