Isak giggles as Even points the phone at him and snaps a picture of his beautiful figure right now in this moment lying in their bed with his blonde hair tousled against the pillows and his smile so radiant it sends chills up Even’s spine.
“Eveeeeen stop it” Isak whines through his squeaky laughter at the multiple sounds of the camera.
“But you’re so fucking beautiful Isak” Even exclaims running his hand through Isak’s soft messy hair.
“Nei” Isak says softly as he looks up at Even with the brightest loving eyes he has ever seen.
Isak licks his lips before smiling intently at Even “you are the beautiful one”
Even wraps his arm around his boyfriend and kisses his cheek while exclaiming “That’s not fair I said it first!” and snapping another photo of Isak’s glowing smile before he throws his hands up over his face and shakes his head through his joyous laughter “evvvvvi no”
Even instead starts snapping below Isak’s face. Isak’s hands fly away from his eyes as he raises his eyebrows up at his boyfriend, with a grin still pasted on his face. “really Even?”
Even wrapped his arm under Isak’s head and took his hand. “Okay enough hogging the camera I want to be in the picture.”
Isak’s body shook with more laughter “you have been the one taking the photos this entire time! I haven’t been hogging!”
Even laughed at his blonde angel before snapping a million photos of them in a row. He would have taken more if Isak hadn’t stolen the phone from him just to bring his mouth to his.
later Even is looking through the photos when he stops and shows Isak “I like this one.”
Isak smiles “me too. I like your smile there.”
Even grins “you should make it your profile picture and finally get rid of that awful meme”
Isak laughed and shook his head “nei nei nei”
he raised his eyebrows “why not?”
“because it is awwwwkward Even. The boys would never let me live it down. Can you imagine?” He shook his head just at the thought of all the jokes he would get from Jonas alone before getting up to get a drink.
Even watched as he left, before going into Isak’s insta and posting the pic.
After all he didn’t say anything about posting it on insta..
both. they both so they end up. tangled and hot and sweaty and stuck.
who texts/rings to check how their day is going
lance does. he’s gross n romantic n probably thinks abt keith all day. keith is Overwhelmed. “nothing has changed since you last saw me” “yeah but how is your day going? what’s happening? is it fun?” “no….” “u suck at this” “u suck” “i do ;)” keith shoves his phone in his bag and doesn’t touch it for the rest of the day
who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts
lance. probably. handcrafts mixtapes and all sappy shit. while keith’s like. “happy birthday. i didn’t know what to get u but i found these socks and they were blue and had little cacti on them which i thought was kind of funny so i got them for u?” lance wears them until they fall off his feet
who gets up first in the morning
they both like to lie in late and sleep longer than they should (lord let them rest) but eventually lance will because he needs to start his Morning Routine. get that skin glowing boy
who suggests new things in bed
uhhhhh. they both. are like. not great at . suggesting they kind of just try to shyly nudge things in a new direction and then the other one’s all “wait wait wait– you’re into that?” “yes..?” “LMAO THATS SO WEIRD” “we dont have to if u dont wanna” “no get ur ass back on this mattress i wanna do it too babe im sorry”
who cries at movies
lance is probably the more likely of the two. but keith gets really messed up about animal movies. he may not always cry but he gets so distraught.
who gives unprompted massages
lance does. keith tries sometimes, but he’s not very good. leave lance’s bony shoulders for hunk to knead out.
who fusses over the other when they’re sick
lance more effectively so. he has his mum’s soup recipes and knows how to look after a sick whiny guy after seeing her handle him and his brothers. keith tries to return the favour but his soup is sloppy at best and he doesn’t know what else to do but hover uselessly. “don’t worry about me, pretty boy, i just gotta sleep it off.” “u sure?” “yes. u can go do ur own thing.” “u dont need anything before i go?” “i mean if u want…a cuddle would be nice.” “ok a cuddle i can do that”
who gets jealous easiest
they’re both prone, but probably lance?
who has the most embarrassing taste in music
like…..i was gonna say lance but then i thought about keith and all his emo anthems so
who collects something unusual
keith doesn’t mean to but he has a lot of junk? he doesn’t know how he got most of it, but “it might be important one day”
who takes the longest to get ready
lance. though keith can take a surprisingly long time to choose an outfit
“i don’t get it. why does it take you so long to pick the same black jeans and shirt every day?” “these aren’t the same jeans and shirt!” “they are! they’re black! like the ones you wore yesterday, and the day before, and the day before–” “no, yesterday my shirt was lighter grey! and these jeans are tighter, don’t pretend like u didn’t notice that! plus these ones have the tears in the knees that i like.”
who is the most tidy and organised
neither of them tbh. their shared apartment would look like something out of an apocalypse movie set. their friends would be disgusted except they’ve also seen pidge’s place and, well, in comparison to that, anything is clean.
who gets most excited about the holidays
lance because he actually like. had a family that celebrated stuff with him. but as they go through the years together, keith learns the excitement too. the holidays become really special to him; that time he can spend with his friends and family and watching lance be so happy and cute with his family…he Treasures that.
who is the big spoon/little spoon
i couldn’t decide for this so i Phoned A Friend and she showed me the light:
“i feel like it would be a competition to see who gets to be big spoon 85% of the time. the rest depends on if one is feeling down or sick or wanting comfort or something.”
+ he’s loathe to admit it but lance secretly loves being little spoon as well so he’s never too upset if he loses the Big Spoon Wrestle
who gets most competitive when playing games and/or sports
they’re both v competitive but probably lance by a slim margin (though keith generally wins Everything)
who starts the most arguments
listen……friend…..have u seen the show
who suggests that they buy a pet
a dog follows keith home one day. “he followed me.” says keith. “i didnt know how to get rid of him.”
“I LOVE HIM!” lance cries, throwing himself on the dog. “HE’S BEAUTIFUL THIS IS THE BEST GIFT YOU’VE EVER GOTTEN ME!”
what couple traditions they have
whenever they go somewhere with prize-winning type games, lance always always plays until he wins something for keith. also on fb for birthdays they always try and one-up each other to see who can find and post the most embarrassing photos/quotes
what tv shows they watch together
listen they watch space documentaries and reality tv and whatever show is the new big thing on netflix they watch everything and they eat chocolate cake while they watch and lance always ends up with his legs over keith’s lap when they’re finished their cake and put their empty plates on the floor (more than once, lance has trodden on a plate while getting up during an ad break to get more snacks/pop to the loo)
what other couple they hang out with
we don’t know many other characters in the voltron ‘verse, but obviously the rest of the paladin gang and any of their significant others. tho normally they just hang out with pidge and hunk, like a friends thing
how they spend time together as a couple
just being around each other. out and about together, staying in together. something as simple as grocery shopping is it’s own little fun game when it’s just the two of them with shopping carts and long aisles to race through. going out for take out, gaming, they probably go to the gym together and compete over weights and Everything else. they do the household chores together and ride around on keith’s motorbike/in lance’s car and they pull faces at each other in the mirror while they clean their teeth. i also have this vivid mental image of them just. chilling on the couch in various Touching positions, quietly on their phones, showing each other memes or vines every so often. they end up lying on top of each other talking about the alien conspiracy documentary they watched the other night or about this new uni assignment that lance is dreading having to do. idk just. all the little things.
who made the first move
i mean…….if we aren’t counting canon things: lance…but only after he Knew For Sure keith was Gay.
who brings flowers home
lance is the gross romantic he brings home the flowers “some yellow roses to brighten up your day!” “are u friendzoning me?” “what? no i bought u flowers! im being Gay” “yeah but yellow roses are for friendship” “oh..i… No im not– besides– how do u even know that since when do u care about flower meanings?”
who is the best cook
keith burns everything whereas lance has a binder full of his mother’s home recipes so you tell me
Jeremy wakes up the next morning fairly certain this weekend is going to kill him, not to be dramatic. Alvarez had given him the idea of rehearsing the kiss, so he could get his inevitable freakout out of the way, but now he’s not sure if it was a good idea.
When Jean had gotten that close to him, he’d thought he was going to faint. And Jean kissed so gently, so hesitantly, that Jeremy felt dizzy with the desire to be closer. When he pulled away, Jeremy’s lips still tingled, but Jean was out of the room before he could react.
Maybe this was all a mistake. Clearly, it made Jean uncomfortable. But it was only three days.
The drive to Jeremy’s hometown was familiar and friendly, as they’d made it many times before. Even now that he’s a professional Exy player, Jeremy’s car is still a piece of shit and Jean still makes fun of it and Jeremy’s musical taste and how Jeremy drives and basically everything Jeremy does. It’s easy to see how his mom assumed they were dating with the easy familiarity they have with each other. Jean looks relaxed as he gazes out the window and Jeremy notes how easy it would be to close the gap and takes Jean’s hand loosely between them.
It was a perfect day. The weather seemed perfect, the wind was blowing perfectly, and the city didn’t seem too busy for once. I sat at a round table just outside of a tiny café in the middle of the city. Already, I spotted paparazzi across the street, snapping pictures of me as they could. A taxi screeched to a halt on the street beside my table and Clark bailed out of the back seat after paying the driver. He was wearing a gray suit that actually fit him and a tie that didn’t look 10 years old. He plopped down at the table across from me and grinned. “I’m really glad to see you again,” Clark said, reaching across the table and grabbing my hand.
I pursed my lips into something like a small smile and nodded once. “Thanks for agreeing to meet.”
“How have you been?”
“Fine. Still cooking for Styles?”
“And you’re being treated well?”
“Definitely,” I confirmed.
Clark nodded slowly. “Good.”
I glanced across the street at the group of paparazzi snapping pictures. I could see the headlines for tomorrow. Something about me being a cheater and a liar and a bad girlfriend. Clark followed my gaze and shifted in his seat when he saw the paps. “What did you need to see me for?”
“I need to piss Harry off.”
What? Why was I saying that out loud? Why would I tell Clark that?
“So he can win his fight?” Clark asked. How did he know?
“Yes…” I admitted.
“Well, I know what will really piss him off,” Clark said smugly, leaning forward across the table and grabbing my face. He planted his lips firmly on mine and held the back of my head so I couldn’t pull away. I could almost hear the cameras snapping photos faster. When Clark finally let go of me, I fell back into my seat at a complete loss for words. Over Clark’s shoulder, I spotted a tall, dark figure approaching us from down the street and immediately began to explain.
“Harry… Harry, please, it’s not what it looked like,” I stuttered, trying to stand up from my seat, but I couldn’t. It was as if my body was holding me down.
Harry ignored me, stormed straight up to Clark, and ripped him from his chair by the collar of his shirt. Harry held Clark close to him with his one hand and repeatedly punched over and over and over, into Clark’s face and gut. Blood started to run down Clark’s face and splattered on Harry’s plain, white shirt too. No one around us reacted. No one at the tables inside or beside us on the street even seemed to notice the fight. I screamed louder. “Harry!! Stop it!!”
Harry dropped Clark onto the concrete and turned to me, his nostrils flaring and his teeth grinding. “I trusted you. How could you do this to me???”
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-“ I pleaded, still attempting to get out of my chair. I couldn’t.
Harry stomped toward me and bent down to wrap his arms around my chest, squeezing me tightly. “How could you do this to me?” He repeated. “How could you do this to me, Kennedy?”
I snapped open my eyes.
It was a dream.
Harry’s arms were around me. He was holding me tightly. We were laying in his bed. “How could you do this to me?” He asked playfully, kissing my cheek. I sat up and looked at what he was talking about. In the middle of the night, I had taken all of the sheets for myself. “Sheet hog,” Harry laughed, snaking his arms around my waist and pulling me to him again so he could kiss my cheek.
“Sorry,” I said quietly, kicking some of the sheets over to him with my feet.
Harry stopped kissing my cheek and looked at me. “You okay?”
“Fine,” I said, sitting up.
I wiped the back of my hand across my forehead. Harry was right. “Just a bad dream.”
Harry frowned. “About what?”
“It was just…”
I was really supposed to meet with Clark today. Last night, Louis told me that he would take care of getting in contact with Clark. Arnold said he would call the paparazzi and tell them where we would be so that they could take some awful pictures of the two of us together. When Harry returned to the house, I helped him clean up his cuts and bruised eye but then pretended to be tired so that I wouldn’t have to talk to him anymore. I was worried he would ask me what was wrong or what my plans were for tomorrow and I was scared I was going to give our plans away. What kind of person was I?
I glanced back at Harry. He had his eyebrows ruffled together and was waiting for me to answer. I could see in his eyes that he was genuinely worried about me and my little bad dream.
“A bad dream about you.”
“About me?” Harry sat up quickly and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his chest again. “What happened?”
“You just got in a fight-“
Harry laughed. “Hopefully I won.”
“I think it’s safe to say that.”
“Why were we fighting?”
I swallowed hard. “I went out to meet him for lunch.”
“Why on earth would you do that?” Harry chuckled again.
Before I could stop it, I felt a tear trickle down my cheek. Harry sensed my tense body and pushed me away from him so he could see my face. “Kennedy? Are you crying?”
“I’m sorry, I-“
“Did you meet with Clark? In real life?” Harry asked, his voice becoming less concerned for me and more angry.
I shook my head frantically. “No, no, I didn’t.”
Harry ran a thumb over my cheek but kept his distance still on the bed. “Why are you crying then? What’s wrong, baby?”
I couldn’t do this. I didn’t know why the hell I agreed to it the night before. I was not going to be used as a weapon against Harry to simply help him win a fight. Fuck that. “Arnold and Louis-“ I sobbed. I know that I was upset with myself, but I wished I could just stop fucking crying. I never cried. Trying to calm myself, I took a huge breath. “Arnold and Louis thought you looked weak last night and said it was because I was distracting you. They said you fight best when you’re angry and I was supposed to meet with Clark to make you mad but I can’t and I won’t and I refuse to be any part of their greedy little plots-“
Harry stood from the bed quickly and crossed his arms, putting a knuckle in between his teeth and pacing back and forth across the room. He breathed slowly, all of the muscles in his body twitching as he stepped back and forth.
“Harry? Harry you have to know-“ I slid to the edge of the bed on my knees and tried to wipe the tears from my face, but I couldn’t seem to stop them. “You have to know that I love you. I agreed to meet with Clark-“
“WHAT?” Harry bellowed.
“I AGREED BECAUSE I wanted to help! Arnold convinced me that it would be helping you win the tournament and I just didn’t think it through. Please believe me, I’m so sorr-“
“Just shut the fuck up, Kennedy,” Harry snapped, swatting the air in front of my face. I obeyed.
Harry paced across the room again and again and again. I didn’t know what to say or do to calm him down. I didn’t think it would be possible for ME to calm him down. I was 33.333% of the reason that he was completely pissed. Arnold and Louis had gotten their way without me even having to meet Clark. Harry surprised me when he ripped open his bedroom door and stomped down the stairs to the main floor. “LOUIS!” He growled. He flew through the kitchen, throwing a glass to the floor and shattering it as he did. I rushed to the balcony and listened as Harry pounded on Louis’ door and shouted his name over and over.
“LOUIS! Open this fucking door right now! I’m going to break it down if you don’t fucking open it!” Harry beat on the door for a minute more and then actually broke it down. I cringed as I heard the wood break into little splinters and come off of it’s hinges. My ears stayed perked for some kind of confrontation… some kind of screaming match… some kind of scream from a tortured Louis… but none came. Louis wasn’t home. Harry stomped back across the living room and soon enough, I heard his heavy footsteps on the stairs to the balcony again. I spun around and waited for him to emerge in the doorway. When he did, he started to walk past me to his room, but stopped and faced me.
“You were trying to help me.”
I couldn’t tell if it was a question or a statement, so I nodded once.
“That’s one hell of a fucked up way to go about it, Kennedy,” Harry said harshly, running his fingers through his messy hair.
“I know,” I croaked, a lump forming in my throat again. “I’m sorry-“
“Stop saying that!” Harry interrupted bitterly, taking a few heavy steps toward me. “I forgive you but I’m still pissed as hell at you. I’m more furious with Arnold and Louis, but I just can’t wrap my head around you agreeing to help them-“ Harry growled and started to pace back and forth again. “You know I’ve been trying to control my anger. Why would you WANT TO PISS ME OFF? After everything you’ve done to try and help me?? What the fuck, Kennedy?”
Tears ran down my cheeks again. If he didn’t want me to apologize again, what was I supposed to say? “I-“ I breath hitched in my throat as I tried to control my tears again. “I love you,” I managed.
Harry stopped pacing and stared across the balcony at me, his eyes dull and gray. “Do you? Really?”
I nodded and heaved as I tried to steady my breath. “I really love you, Bear.”
Harry walked to me and grabbed the back of my neck like he used to when we were angry at each other. “If you truly love me, you try and stay away from Arnold and Louis. Louis is my friend but he’s a shitty person sometimes. Arnold is a greedy bastard and will ruin anyone’s life just to get a little money. Don’t do anything he tells you to outside of being a chef here, understand me?”
I looked at my feet and nodded.
“Kennedy, do you understand?” Harry asked, gripping my neck a little more tightly.
I looked into his eyes and nodded again. “I understand. I promise. I’ll stay away,“ I sniffled.
Harry’s eyes were still dark and his body was still tensed for a fight, but he reached up and wiped another tear from my cheek. He let go of my neck and walked to his room, glancing at me once more and saying, “I’ll come down and get you when it’s time to leave for the fight.”
Then he closed the door.
In the time I had to myself all day, I decided it was better for Harry to be mad this way that it was for him to be mad about me going on a secret date with Clark. Was I happy that backed out and told him our plans to piss him off? No. But he had forgiven me already for this – probably a little too easily, I’ll admit – and I’m sure it would have taken months for him to forgive me for going out with Clark. He had every right to be furious with me for the rest of the day, though I wished he wasn’t. Never in my life had someone been so mad at me and I didn’t know how to react. How to make the anger go away.
As we walked down the hall to his room on the outside of the arena, he held my hand tightly, but not in a loving way. He was tugging me along. He didn’t have time to wait on me. When we got to the room, he slung me onto the couch, changed, and started to warm up on his punching bag. I was a little furious that neither Arnold nor Louis had tried to contact me or Harry today. They must have figured I went through with the plan and decided to steer clear of the menacing Harry Styles until after he destroyed his opponent in the ring.
“Time,” Harry commanded of me.
“You’ve got two minutes,” I answered quietly, looking at my phone.
Harry sighed and took a swig of water from his bottle. He reached into his bag and pulled out my bandana. He handed it to me as I stood on the couch and tied it around his hair. When I was done, he held out a hand to help me down from the couch and pulled me to the door. We walked down the hall silently until we reached Harry’s entrance to the ring. “Meet me at my room afterwards. I’ll take you home since Louis and Arnold have both run for the hills,” Harry said, dropping my hand.
“Good luck,” I said softly, standing on my toes to kiss his cheek. He surprised me by leaning down and kissing my cheek too.
“I love you,” I said, sounding a little too desperate for him to say it back.
Harry didn’t grin, but his gaze seemed to soften. “I love you.”
As I was about to leave, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and looked at the text from Arnold.
Hope you had a good date today and that tonight won’t be a disappointment for me.
Harry read the text over my shoulder. His breathing got heavier and heavier until he started to bounce on his toes and beat his gloves together in front of the doors. Without looking at me, he growled, “Get to your seat.”
During the introductions, I scanned the crowds for Arnold and Louis. I had the same seats as last time, but the seat beside me was empty. I couldn’t spot either of them anywhere but knew they wouldn’t miss this fight. I was hardly paying attention when the bell rang for the match to begin – Harry against a tall, slender individual named Robb Gordon. He was a lot like Harry in the way he fought and the way he was physically built, but he didn’t stand a chance. Harry was pissed. Fuming. Seething with anger. I could see fire in his eyes from 30 seats up in the stands. I just prayed that he wouldn’t kill this poor guy. Harry didn’t look my way a single time during the fight which broke my heart, but I had to keep reminding myself that I completely deserved it.
Despite his reckless anger, Harry was still good about letting Robb get an occasional hit on him to make the match look even throughout the three rounds. However, when Harry was hitting Robb, his swings were stronger than ever and his gloves almost appeared like they were made of cement. Blood splattered across the crowd with every hit Harry got on Robb but they loved it. It was difficult to watch, mainly because I was the only one who knew that Harry wasn’t just fighting, but he was releasing his anger. He was taking out the anger that I caused on someone who had no idea why Harry was furious. The anger was like steroids for Harry. Never again. Never ever again would I agree to do anything to make him anything but happy.
As the third round came to a close and it was apparent that Harry was going to win, I started my walk back to his locker room. I took my time, hoping maybe he would meet me along the way and I wouldn’t have anymore time to myself. I had been left alone all day to think about what I did and I didn’t think I could stand anymore of it. Thankfully, just as I walked past Harry’s door to the ring, he walked back through it.
I smiled softly at him. “Nice fight, Bear.”
Harry nodded and walked beside me as I helped him untie his gloves. He seemed calmer than he had been all day. While I hated to admit it, Harry’s angry fighting was stronger. Maybe I could help him learn to fight just as strongly when he wasn’t losing his mind.
Harry pushed through his locker room door and stopped immediately. I ran into his back, not expecting the abrupt halt. “You okay, Bear?” I peered around his body and stared into the eyes of the three people that needed to be on the opposite side of the earth at the moment – Arnold, Louis, and Clark.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I snapped, stepping in front of Harry. Who I was addressing, I wasn’t sure. I guess I was talking to all of them.
Clark stood up off of the couch. “I waited for you in the city today for our date, but you never showed. I figured you would be here, so I came and ran into Arnold.”
“You didn’t go on your date?” Arnold asked.
“No,” I said through gritted teeth.
Arnold frowned but shrugged. “And you still managed to piss him off. You’ll have to tell me what you did later. And Harry? Good fight. That’s more like it. Tonight was much better than your fight last round,” Arnold said, clapping. Louis was too busy on his phone to be paying attention to anything going on.
“You three fuckers-“ Harry started, stepping around me and throwing his gloves across the room. Everyone winced except for Arnold, who simply raised his eyebrows.
“What’s the problem, Harry?” He asked.
“You’re my problem, you self-indulging bastard. You know I’ve been working on my anger for YEARS and now that I’m finally just a little bit happy, you want me to be angry again? Just to make you rich? Are you trying to mentally fuck me over for the rest of my life?” I hadn’t realized that I grabbed Harry’s hand and was holding him back. I was worried that I was going to see more blood tonight than I had planned to see.
“Harry, we were trying to help you win,” Arnold said, his gaze lowered and his voice laced with annoyance. Arnold’s expression was one of hatred, probably because of Harry’s lack of gratitude.
“Fuck your help. I don’t need your help.”
“Well SHE sure as hell isn’t helping you! What are you going to do? Help yourself? That’s never worked in the past,” Arnold said, raising his hands in an awkward shrug.
Clark shifted on his feet and stuck his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. “I think I wandered into something I shouldn’t be a part of…” He said, inching past me toward the door.
Harry whipped around and snarled. He lunged around me for Clark’s collar, like I saw in my dream. I shut my eyes and waited for a punch.
“You certainly did,” Harry growled. “Get the hell out of here and never come back.” He threw Clark into the door. Clark groaned in pain and was trying his best to stand up and get out. “If I ever see you around again – if I ever see you near Kennedy, I will end you. Do you understand?” Harry spat. Clark didn’t respond, but merely scampered out the door like the coward he was.
“Harry…” Arnold started, but before he could say anything else, Harry walked to Arnold and struck him hard across the face. Arnold collapsed onto the floor and whimpered.
“Never been hit before, I take it?” Harry asked as he stood over him. “Get the fuck out, you’re fired.”
Arnold struggled to get to his feet. “But- but- but Harry, I’ve got a contract to manage you for another five years-“
“Yeah, a contract with me,” Harry snapped. “I’m releasing you from that contract. Get the fuck out.”
“Harry, you can’t do this to me. I’m like a father to you,” Arnold said.
Harry’s eyes widened. “You’re just as shitty of a father as my real one was. Get the fuck out.”
“GET THE FUCK OUT!” Harry grabbed Arnold by his suit jacket and threw him across the room to the door. Arnold looked just as Clark did, cowering by the floor and trying not to cry as his knees shook beneath his body and his sweaty hand struggled to grip and open the door. No sooner had Arnold left did Harry grab Louis by the collar of his shirt too, but Louis put his hands up in surrender immediately.
“Were you ‘just trying tot help’ too???” Harry seethed though his teeth.
Louis shook his head. “I’ve been around Arnold for so long that I just got used to going along with all of his plans. He used to be a good guy, you know that.”
I was surprised at how calm Louis sounded even though he was about to get his face beat in.
Harry threw Louis back onto the couch and paced across the room. “That’s a shit excuse.”
“That’s the most honest one I have. I was caught up in the moment. I want you to win, so I was trying to think of a way to, well, help you,” Louis explained.
Harry glared at Louis. “Unfortunately, I’ve already fired my manager tonight so firing my assistant manager wouldn’t do me any good.” Harry shook his head. “If everyone in this situation was trying to ‘help’ me, why did everything turn to shit?”
“I mean, you did have a strong fight…” I said softly, though I immediately regretted saying it.
Harry looked defeated. He knew that his strongest fights were the ones where he was angry. “I’ve got round three tomorrow. I’m going to fight and I’m not going to be mad. If I win, I win. If I lose, I lose.”
He glanced over to me and smiled gently. Having been the first time he actually smiled at me all day, I took it as an “okay” to approach him and wrap my arms around his waist. His arms slid around my back, a feeling I had been missing like crazy since this morning, and his lips pressed to the top of my head.
“Sure you’ll be okay with losing?” Louis asked, raising an eyebrow.
Harry shrugged and kissed my hair once more. “I guess we’ll find out.”
Anon: A fluffy hijack RPNAU based on Laryndawn’s work would be adooooraaaableeeeee. P.S. Hiccbutt.
I’m sorry if this isn’t as long as my previous prompts, but I feel really tired and I haven’t stopped shivering all day. Also this is my first RPNAU fic ever, so if it sucks… well my inbox is always open for the complaints. Is it fluffy enough? Is it not fluffy at all? Oh God, I’m paranoid tonight…
To say that Jackson Overland felt unsettled when Hiccup Haddock, the school punk decked out with piercings and dragon tattoos, approached him at his locker would be a lie.
He was nervous.
Granted, it’s not like he and the punk had never made eye contact before. They passed by each other several times throughout the day and have even had their arms brush against each other when the hallways were crowded. However each time those kinds of meetings did happen, Jack always found himself averting his eyes to either the ground or the fruit fly that always seemed to hang around outside the grade 9 English classroom.
Even though Jack broke whatever little eye contact they’ve had, he could still feel the other’s forest green eyes continuing to stare at him. It made him want to curl up in a ball and disappear.
So when Hiccup arrived at the white-haired nerd’s locker after school ended for the day, you bet your ass Jack was praying that something would distract him.
Unfortunately, like most days, he had no such luck.
It had been in the heat of the moment. He never expected this to happen, not like this. He had planned for it to never actually happen, to hide his feelings away from Jamison for the rest of their days together, but as fate would have it…. He couldn’t help himself.
Jamison had been especially reckless that day, almost getting himself killed after running off on his own. Mako had only just arrived in time to be able to pull him the from the wreckage and kill the fuckers who dared to lay a finger on his boss. He’d made sure nothing was left of them, showing them just who and what they had been messing around with. The message had been sent, so whoever had found them and had tried to hurt Junkrat knew not to fuck around with him anymore.
On the way back, he had been quiet. Both of them had. Junkrat knew that Roadhog was more then just quietly seething. He could see the near crushing grip that Hog had on the handles of his bike and he chose to be silent. He didn’t want to make this any worse then it already was. That didn’t stop him from shifting and moving all over the place in his side car, anxiety bubbling up inside of his chest that made him want to burst.
I guess 40 people have already sent you this, in case they havent: Bagginshield for Love-in-Idleness :D
Who falls asleep on the couch:
Thorin’s dingy couch? Definitely Thorin :D Bilbo in turn falls asleep on Thorin. It’s nice.
Who makes friends with the neighbors:
Bilbs, he’s very nice. And excited about HAVING neighbors in the first place. He bullies Thorin into helping a couple of ladies with their groceries, and makes everyone like him, too :)
Who is the adventurous eater:
Bilbo. Wants to try everything there is to try. Thorin is a bit conditioned to eat weird stuff by Fili and Kili, but it’s no match for Bilbo’s excitement about weird stuff. Though when Bilbo feeds him weird stuff while sitting astride on his lap and doing the airplane with the spoon, it’s difficult to refuse and/or not to laugh.
Who hogs the covers at night:
Oh, Bilbo. Though what he requires is warmth, so Thorin can fix everything by spooning him properly, and ending up almost TOO hot for his troubles, getting Bilbo AND blankets at the same time. No one’s complaining, though.
Who forgets to do the dishes:
I’m thinking Bilbo, at first, because he’s accustomed to life on the road and A LOT of take-out, and Thorin is more used to living alone and keeping his apartment and kitchen at least a little bit livable.
Who tries to surprise their partner more often:
Bilbo, that ridiculous adventurer. He gets excited very easily, and sees no problem about dragging Thorin off to impromptu… well, everything. Movie nights, trips, exhibitions, you name it. Thorin follows, and in turn surprises Bilbo with something tiny and romantic every now and then, like a nice homemade dinner (he tries ok), or flowers, or a new book, or turning up at the premiere of his new thing even though it’s half a world away.
Who leaves dirty laundry on the floor:
Thorin, that awful, awful man. Bilbo has a habit of picking it all up and tossing it into his lap wherever he’s currently sitting, which eventually works and teaches him a lesson about laundry baskets.
Who stays up until 2AM reading:
Depends on the night, really. Thorin does when Bilbo is currently away - he has trouble sleeping when alone, poor sod. Bilbo does, occasionally, but it’s less reading and more catching up on TV shows or something. And if Thorin happens to get a stroke of migraine, it’s always Bilbo, taking care of him and unable to go to sleep when worried.
Who sings in the shower:
Thorin, when he’s happy. Loudly and off-key, responding to Bilbo’s complaining by singing even louder. Bilbo is more of a quiet hummer.
Who takes the selfies:
Oh, Bilbo, dragging Thorin down to his level and shrieking ‘SMILE!’ and snapping a pic no matter how disgruntled Thorin looks. In fact, he treasures those where he looks super disgruntled even more. Thorin hates it, but obliges. Smiles into Bilbo’s hair even, every now and then, which is an achievement in and of itself.
Who plans date night:
I’d like to think Thorin plans ‘welcome home’ dinners for Bilbo, and likes it when they have the time to go out someplace nice. They’re good at remembering anniversaries, and make anniversaries of everything. First kiss (there are some arguments about when THAT happened), first other things, first date, Thorin’s first movie job in a while, Bilbo’s first Golden Globe nomination, et cetera, et cetera… There’s always cause for celebration.