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chickenstrangers · 5 months

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2023 gifs in review tag game

tagged by @khaotunq (here!) to post my favorite/most popular gifs throughout the year. thank you!!🩵🩵🩵

I only started making gifs partway through this year, so there was a big learning curve and i still think i'm pretty newbie but it has been a lot of fun and it's nice looking back on how much i think i've improved, though i have so much left to learn next year

i am going to ramble too much because this is my post, fair warning, forgive my self indulgence

april

this was the very beginning, back in the photopea days before i tried photoshop (i am still quite fond of photopea, 1. because it is free and 2, for stills i think it's just as good as photoshop, but i could never figure out how to make gifs look good with its dithering system. i have seen some remarkable gifmakers using photopea tho so that's a my limited skill problem, and i'm glad i used it to dip my toes into the process!)

i only posted 1 set for abaab this month which looks not good but is still a very fun scene, but this was not actually the first thing i made (see below).

may

most popular: msp finale, tinn knowing all the words to gun's song <3

favorite: moonlight chicken, my first ever gifset and the reason i got into gifmaking because i wanted to capture the way moonlight chicken visually returned to locations and shots to underline its theme of loneliness being replaced by community, which is the mlc repetitions series

june

most popular & favorite: kiss me again (2018) and the lovely way june say's goodby to his friends (i learned how to add text to gifs for this one, and not only that but timed text! i thought it would get like 5 notes. it's very messy and doesn't look great, but i'm proud that i learned something with it, and i think its very funny and that's all that matters to me)

july

it's photoshop time now!! photoshop beloved you make such beautiful gifs and also you are So Slow and my computer cannot handle you.

most popular: only friends original trailer set

favorite: jimwen looking at each other set (the start of my most belovedest of series, the followup to the first ever meta i wrote)

august

most popular: part 1 of the can't i look at you edits, cool tones edition

favorite: part 2 of the can't i look at you edits, warm toned edition (i love them both but this has two of my all time favorite wen faces)

hey its my profile picture and also i find it very funny that the Os line up with his eyes, and the second gif i love how impossibly happy they look

september

my busiest month in terms of gifs, in large part due to only friends

most popular: topmew and fire

favorite: alanwen poetry edit i spent soooo long learning keyframes for the heartbeat effect and then the ghosting effect was a happy accident thank you person in the background walking past at the right moment

(i also love my charn laws of attraction set because he was a surprise favorite character this year, i loved collecting the quotes for how he speaks of himself)

october

most popular: only friends sandray finale parallel set (it is. very very close to 1k which is. so many).

favorite: he's coming to me edit because it was so fun to make for @dudeyuri

november

most popular: not me sean and black getting along super duper well!

favorite: moonlight chicken haunted house edit, accompanying this meta/creative writing thing. i loved choosing liminal feeling shots for it and i liked how the simple typography turned out

december

most popular: a little jim and wen set i am very fond of

favorite: the moonlight chicken new years set i posted today. i love this little chicken diner

hey look i managed to mention moonlight chicken almost every month (i swear, i watched so many favorite shows this year but i loved making mlc gifs so much)

and that's that! thanks for reading if anyone read til the end.

no pressure tags for some amazingly talented creators who have made some of my favorite sets this year (if you feel like talking about some of your highlights, whether monthly or not, because you all make so much incredible work and i'd love to hear about it) : @hoppipolla @sollucets @icouldhyperfixatehim @celestial-sapphicss @chinzhilla @krystaljungs @moonkhao and anyone who wants to, consider yourself tagged <3

#tag game #bl superlatives 2023 #rambling rambles #*mine #this was a fun retrospective!#thank you to all of the amazing creative people in this community that inspired me and taught me so much

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fqreverwinter · 2 years

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“Can you pleaseeeeee write a story where the reader turns out to be Tobey’s secret wife and she comes to visit on set, and the other Garfield and Holland try flirting with her? I LOVE your stories!”

~ ~ ~

“the catering girl”

— — — —

relationship: tobey maguire x fem!reader

summary: you can’t pass on the opportunity to see your husband don the iconic spider-man suit one more time, but there is one setback: no one knows you’re married, especially the two other spider-men.

warnings: cursing, some suggestive content but no nsfw

word count: 1.9k

notes: i love this request! (and to the anon that submitted it — sorry it took so long!!! i had no idea the inbox was a thing as i’m still very new to this site) anyways, hope you enjoy! <3

masterlist

Just bring some food and tell them you're catering.

You re-read the text for the hundredth time as you anxiously bounced your knee in the back of the taxi. The line for security clearance was long, and the more you waited, the more nervous you became.

Tobey, your husband, invited you to the set of Spiderman: No Way Home. He was reprising his iconic role as Peter Parker almost twenty years after his first film premiered, along with his successor, Andrew Garfield. Their appearance was to be top-secret with absolutely no one outside of production knowing. For this reason, clearance to be on set was nearly impossible to get, even for family.

For you, however, it was simply impossible.

Tobey was your husband, but your marriage was kept secret. Only both of your families knew. Even when you started dating, he had taken a break from the public eye. Dates were usually held at tiny restaurants or at either of your homes just to avoid any cameras. Your wedding was very small and intimate, but you couldn't ask for anything more. After all, you loved Tobey: not his fame.

Being able to live life as a normal couple was a dream, especially for Tobey. He was launched into the starlight when he was barely an adult and lived his entire life being harassed by paparazzi. Being able to wake up next to you every day knowing no photographers were outside your door was a relief. He seemed happier than ever.

When he got the call to be a part of this movie, you weren't sure if he'd accept. You knew how much he loved being Peter Parker, but he loved the quiet life, and he was not twenty-something anymore. But Tobey didn't even hesitate before signing onto the film. The night he signed the contract, he took you out to an expensive restaurant to celebrate.

He was more than anxious in the months leading up to shooting. There was so much pressure, so much anticipation for this movie. Tobey was a little rusty at acting, and he was nervous his deliveries would be off. You assured him day and night that he would do well, that audiences would love the film no matter what.

You were not allowed to accompany him to table readings, both for personal and professional secrecy. Even though Tobey would be spending the next few months with this crew, he was determined to keep your relationship private.

"It's not that I'm ashamed of you," he explained to you the week before filming started. "I am absolutely not ashamed. I love you more than anything. Because I love you, if our relationship ever got out, I don't wanna have you be bombarded with cameras and press. I want to protect you."

Although you were a little disappointed, you understood. But you told him you'd agree on one condition: you got to see him in the suit. With a laugh, he agreed. He said he'd figure out a way to get you on set for at least a few hours.

On the first day of filming the suit scenes, Tobey said you could come in. He created an elaborate scheme to sneak you onto set without anyone knowing you're his wife: pretend you were catering. He got as much information on the catering company as he could, hired a driver, and trained you to lie. He said just pick up some trays of food from the grocery store and play it off as gourmet.

You were nervous, to say the least. Instead of picking up food, you spent the whole morning baking, just in case someone would catch your bluff. You tried your best to dress casual in order to pass off as a worker. You rehearsed the information while you got ready. In the car ride down, your heart never stopped racing. You were so scared that you would be caught, no matter how much Tobey told you it would be fine.

Finally, your driver made it to the front of the line. He ran through all the information, even flashing an ID that was definitely not for this set. To your surprise, the guard let you through. You let out a breath and thanked whatever deity was watching over you.

You tipped the driver after stepping out. Carrying the trays onto set, you looked for someone in charge. Instead, you ran into a complete surprise: the three Spider-men. You hid your smile when you locked eyes with your husband.

"Hello! Sorry to scare you," Andrew said in his charming accent. "But we just wrapped a scene and whatever you're holding smells so good."

You laughed, "It's okay! If you can find me a table to set this down on, you can have all you want."

Andrew smiled and looked around, eventually finding an empty spot on the one catering table. He and Tom eagerly led you over while Tobey trailed behind you. He placed a hand on your lower back and let it trail down. You shot him a quick look. He responded with a cocky grin and pulled his hand away.

You set the trays down on the table and took off the lids. After scouring Pinterest and some stray cookbooks, you decided to make bruschetta crostini, stuffed mushrooms, and mini meatballs. Immediately, the three actors started picking at all the snacks while you watched with a proud smile.

"These are so good," Tom mumbled in between bites. "Usually, they just give us little wraps. Nothing ever this fancy."

"I know. She's beautiful and she can cook," Andrew said with a smile. You saw Tobey shift slightly, a little offended by the comment, but he couldn't let them know. You giggled at his reaction and looked back to the other two.

"I appreciate it. No one ever compliments my cooking like that."

"I bet that's not true," your husband answered quickly, giving you a quick glance. You laughed and winked at him.

"It's a shame. I'd die to have someone cook for me like this. What is your name, by the way?" Tom asked with a sweet smile. You told him and extended a hand. Tobey noticed that you weren't wearing your wedding band, and he started to become even more upset. He cleared his throat as your handshake lasted a little too long, making Tom step back with a smile.

Tobey opened his mouth to intervene, but someone on the set called him over. He sighed and excused himself, quickly rushing over. You watched him go with a hint of disappointment, but you turned back to the other two.

"So, are you going to be staying here long? Are you replacing the other catering girl?" Andrew asked, flashing you a charming smile. You giggled a little bit.

"Sadly, no. I'm just here for today."

"Aw. You are so much better than the usual lady. She's old and mean and doesn't make fancy snacks."

You laughed, "My snacks aren't fancy."

"They're better than the ones at any gala I’ve been to," Tom said with a smile. "Seriously. You're good."

“Aw,” you said with a slight blush. “Thank you.”

“I’d love it if you’d teach me sometime,” Andrew said with a charming smile, popping another meatball into his mouth. “My friends would be so impressed, with you and the snacks.”

“Oh-Uh—,” you were about to make a comment back, a little taken back by his straight-up words, when you heard your name whispered. You turned to see Tobey walking towards his trailer, beckoning you as he stepped inside. You wanted to stay here and bask in their praise a little longer, but you were reminded that he was still in that skin-tight suit, and you couldn’t pass that down.

You turned to the other two with a smile. “I’ll actually be right back. I have to—um, sign a form saying that I dropped this off. Y’know, company policy stuff.”

“No problem. We’ll just be here, eating everything in sight,” Tom said, winking. You let out an airy laugh before waving and walking off, picking up your pace as you neared his trailer. You didn’t even bother to knock; you swung open the door and started to giggle.

“Were you seriously standing there and letting them hit on you?” Tobey asked, a hint of disbelief on his face.

“I was selling the act,” you countered with a sly smile. “I was trying to act like I wasn’t married.”

“It was very scary how well you did it.”

“Aw, honey,” you said softly, wrapping him in a hug as you saw his smile fall. “Are you jealous?”

“Not really. I just—Maybe this was a bad idea. I didn’t like that they were flirting with you.”

“I was just playing, Tobey. I love you,” you assured him, planting a quick kiss on his lips. You saw him start to crack a smile.

“Besides,” you teased, running your hands down his chest, feeling his muscles underneath the spandex. “You look fucking amazing in this suit.”

All the jealously left his system as the words slipped out of your mouth. Tobey crashed his lips onto yours, pulling you close to him. His hands gripped your waist as yours draped over his shoulders. He was kissing you hard, teeth clashing and tongues tied.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and it swung open. “Tobey? They’re ready to—Oh shit,” a distinguishable British voice spoke, nearly gasping at the sight before him.

You pulled away from your husband, staring back at the two other actors with messy hair and wide eyes. You cleared your throat as Tobey fought back laughter, amused by their shocked expressions.

“Oh my god—You’re hooking up with the catering girl?!” Andrew gasped.

“Well—Actually, um,” you stuttered, trying to adjust your sweater.

“We’re married. She’s my wife,” he finished with a proud grin, gently taking your hand.

“You’re married?!” Tom nearly shouted. “And to the catering girl?”

“I’m actually not a catering girl,” you confessed with a light laugh. “This was just his elaborate way of sneaking me onto set.”

“So did you actually cook those snacks?” Andrew asked. “Because, if so, you are a lucky man, Maguire.”

The both of you laughed, and you leaned against your husband. “Yes, I did actually cook those, although it took me several hours.”

“I’m still not over the fact that you’re married,” Tom said. “You hid that from us?”

“We had reasons,” Tobey answered with a shrug. “I’ll tell you guys some other time, but just promise you won’t tell anyone? We could get in real trouble.”

“My lips are sealed, man,” Andrew said, holding his hands up. “And I’m sorry for my behavior. It was a little uncalled for, whether you were married or not.”

You smiled, “It’s perfectly fine. Now, go before the director comes in here yelling.”

Everyone ushered out of the trailer, but you grabbed Tobey’s hand and pulled him back. He spun to face you with a big smile. You gave him a lingering kiss and giggled as you pulled away.

“Break legs, Spider-Man,” you said with a coy grin, squeezing his bicep through the suit. Tobey winked before following the other guys to set. You watched him go, eyeing how he moved in that suit.

Laughing to yourself, you muttered, “Yep. Totally worth it.”

#submission #peter parker #spiderman #imagine #oneshot #tobey maguire x reader #tobey maguire #marvel #andrew garfield #marvel imagine #peter parker x reader #spider man no way home #tom holland

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joaquinwhorres · 3 years

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Stitches & Blankets (Joaquin Torres x Reader)

SUMMARY ››››› You find Joaquin Torres after he tries to stop the bank robbery.

WORD COUNT ››››› 3,000-ish

WARNINGS ››››› language

A/N ››››› OK, why are there not more Torres fics? I'm legitimately confused about that. Also, I realized after writing half of this down, that a bank was robbed, so there were probably still police on the scene and the reader'd probably be speaking Swiss-German but uh...fan fiction.

There was a body in the street, which was not what you expected to see coming out to your car.

You'd heard the wailing sirens and shouting and the thunderous footsteps--they're what kept you pressed against the side of the building for the past ten minutes, avoiding the chaos as much as possible. It wasn't fear that kept you there though, it was experience. You'd become used to the quick riots and little skirmishes for resources over the past few months. You knew it was better to stay out of the way, wait out the storm, and then go about your life. They became nothing more than minor nuisances. Bits of unrest that were there and then gone in the next instance. They weren't supposed to leave a body behind.

"Meine Fresse," you murmured, racing forward to the person lying supine on the stones, arms out to their sides, the white of their sneakers reflecting the street lights. As you drew closer, you saw it was a man--about your age with blood around his eye and nose and lip. For a brief second, you wondered if he'd been trampled, but he definitely would have looked worse for wear based on how many people you'd heard.

"Bist du okay?" Your voice was loud as you checked over the rest of his body. He didn't seem to have any other injury, and there wasn't any blood under his head, so you decided it was safe enough to gently shake him.

He didn't rouse.

So, instead you knelt your ear down to his lips, laying your hand flat on his chest. You felt your hand rise before you heard the slow intake of breath, and you rocked back onto your knees. He was breathing. He was alive.

Still, something gnawed at the back of your mind, urging your fingers up under his jaw, gently pressing into his neck. It was only then that you felt a surge of relief. His pulse was there, and it was strong. He was really alive.

And then you remembered that you should probably call 112.

All things considered, it was a quick phone call--the operator seemed to know your exact location and vaguely what had happened as you explained where you were and how you found him. Instead, most of the conversation was spent listening to their instructions to roll him into a recovery position and check for any signs of life-threatening injuries. When they told you that you could hang up because they were close, you did so and found the man blinking at you.

"Hoi," you greeted soothingly. "Wie heisst du?"

He groaned, attempting to roll onto his back once more. You reached out a hand stopping him, and he looked up at you confused.

"Comment t'appelles tu?" You attempted, hoping he wasn't an Italian or Romansch speaker. You hardly knew enough of either language to tell him you couldn't speak it.

He winced and lifted his hand to his face. "Shit."

English. Good.

"What's your name?" you asked, and his eyes seemed to focus on you once more, this time a spark of recognition or maybe just awareness lighting up behind them.

"Joaquin," he informed, and you released an arm, allowing him to finally roll onto his back like he wanted. He had a strong American accent, even through the gravelly voice of barely regained consciousness. "Did they get away?"

"Ähm," you looked around at the empty street. "Yes?" you guessed.

He let out a heavy sigh. "I'm gonna have to call some people."

"I think you should wait for the ambulance."

"Yeah," he agreed, the word breathy and pained. "That's probably a good idea."

"What happened?" you asked, and he raised his eyebrows, looking back at you.

"Flag Smashers."

"I didn't think the Flag Smashers hurt people."

"I'm just lucky, I guess," he answered, and you smiled, letting out a small laugh. He offered a small smile as well.

You could hear the siren now, the faint sound winding its way through the curving streets of Zürich and towards the two of you. Your head turned towards the sound, as if you could trace it back to the ambulance, and gauging the distance. "They should be close," you said, returning your attention to Joaquin.

"What's your name?" he asked, and the question surprised you. Then again, if the two of you were stuck waiting for an ambulance at nine o'clock on a Sunday night, maybe a bit of small talk shouldn't have been so surprising.

"Y/N," you answered, and he repeated it.

"You're very pretty, Y/N."

The laugh escaped you on instinct, although to call it a laugh might not be the best descriptor. It was more of a surprised noise, partially exhale and a tinge of amusement added through the slight smile at the corner of your mouth.

"Thank you," you said. "You are very pretty too."

And he was, underneath the dark red and rapidly purpling injuries. He had a strong jaw and kind eyes, and even the hint of a smile he'd given earlier had made something in your chest constrict.

"I don't feel so pretty," he responded, and this time your laugh was more of a laugh, and he reached up to feel at his face. You took hold of his hand, bringing it back down and trapping it in yours.

"Pretty enough for me to hold your hand," you joked, hoping to distract him from continuing to poke and prod and break all of the rules and instructions the EMTs had given over the phone.

"Well, I got that goin' for me, I guess," he said, letting his hand relax into yours.

Headlights bathed you in a warm yellow light as flashing blue lights bounced off the surrounding buildings, illuminating the rest of the street.

There were some shouts as the doors of the ambulance opened and people poured out, running towards you and Torres. The paramedic crowded around quickly, a blonde bearded man asking quick questions in German.

"Er spricht Englisch," you explained, and he nodded, switching languages.

It became apparent as police officers pulled up and flooded out of their cars that you were no longer needed. You stood up, backing away and letting Joaquin's hand slip through yours.

"You're not going to stay and hold my hand?" Joaquin called out to you, and you let a smile curl across your lips. Around you, people were starting to come out onto the street, lured by the sounds of the sirens and lack of shouting and general ruckus. Your eyes fell back on Joaquin who was still looking up at you, even as a paramedic flashed a light into his face.

"Maybe he can hold your hand," you said, gesturing to a paramedic who had slid into your place. Joaquin gave half a smile as you turned and left him in the hands of the professionals.

As you rounded the corner, arms full of blankets, the last person you expected to almost run into was Joaquin.

Part of the surprise was the kind that generally accompanied running into someone outside of the context you know them in. A larger part of the surprise was the fact that he was not in the hospital.

Instead, he stood before you, face swollen, bloodied and bruised, with the small white bandages of butterfly stitches above his right eye. He blinked at you, as if he was caught in the headlights.

"Pretty Joaquin," you said, surprise ringing through every part of your voice.

"Y/N."

At least his memory wasn't affected by whatever the Flag Smashers had done to him. His response time was also quicker than it had been two and a half hours ago, and he seemed all in all more present and less hazy. "What are you doing here?"

"I work here." Your own surprise and mild confusion had not quite worn off. "What are you doing here?"

For a variety of reasons, he was not the typical person who stumbled into the Zürich GRC Refugee Camp. He was both too young and too old and far more put together than a normal incomer. He didn't have that haunted look behind his eyes that made your heart wrench. He looked battered and bruised but ok.

"I need a place to stay."

Your eyes ran over his form, from his fluffy dark hair and banged up face to his bright white trainers. You lifted an eyebrow. "The hospital wouldn't take you?"

He shook his head with a sheepish grin. "It's just a broken orbital. Not much else they can do for it." Your eyebrows didn't lower and he gave half a laugh. "Trust me I'm as shocked as you are."

"I'll need you to fill out some paperwork."

He winced. "Any way that could wait until tomorrow? My head is killing me."

You stared intently at his face. Over the past four months of working at the GRC camp, you'd gotten good at reading people. You had an eye for knowing who was going to be trouble down the line and who would need some extra comfort and care. You knew who to push about their stories, and who to wait for--to be there as they slowly unraveled their tale.

So while there was a lot about pretty boy Joaquin that just didn't add up, you could see in his eyes that he could be trusted to stay the night. Just not here.

"You can't stay here without going through intake," you shook your head. "But if you really need a place to sleep, you can come with me."

"Really?" Joaquin asked, turning to follow you as you set back off towards your car, and you nodded.

"It's nothing special--just my couch. But I've been told it's very comfy."

Joaquin faltered a step, slowing down. "You're sure you want me coming and bloody-ing up your couch? I could just stay here and leave before--"

"I'll put down some papers," you said jokingly in an attempt to cut off the subject of him staying at the camp.

"Ok," he said, his voice distracted before there was a quick shuffle of footsteps and he caught back up with you. "Ok, thanks."

The two of you arrived at your car shortly thereafter, Joaquin moving to sit in the passenger seat as you dumped the blankets in the car. You came around to slip into the driver's seat, quickly backing out of the spot and setting off back home.

"So what's with all the blankets?" he asked, pulling his attention from the streets and buildings and back to you.

"We got a late donation tonight," you answered, flicking on your turn signal. "They needed someone here to help organize the drop off and then our washing machine broke, so I have to take work home with me." You smiled at the joke, but he just nodded, leaving you to wonder if maybe your English was off. The next few moments passed in quiet before you checked over at a traffic light to see if he was still awake. He was, but he looked dazed. Maybe he had been telling the truth about his head. You eyed his injuries which looked even worse in the red light. Like his entire right side of his face had been smashed.

"So what brought you to Switzerland?"

It wasn't the question you wanted to ask. You wanted to ask him what had happened with the Flag Smashers--why had they beaten him up so badly. But you weren't sure you were ready for that answer or if he'd even give it. So you asked a question you didn't care if he lied to you about.

"I was looking for someone," he said, and the light turned green, causing you to turn away and focus on your driving rather than him. Still the sentence seemed to end earlier than his thought as you could feel the weight of more words hovering between you. It was a familiar pressure in your ears and your chest, and you'd long grown accustomed to the discomfort.

Like many, Joaquin didn't give the thought words to escape on.

"A refugee?" you asked, and he wobbled his head.

"Yes and no. She survived the Snap."

"She?" A small feeling like a tight wire cord wound its way around your chest and a warmth of embarrassment flooded the back of your neck. "Your sister? Your wife?"

"No," he shook his head. "My grandmother."

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him look at you for the first time.

"What's her name? If she came to the camp I should know her."

"Mariana Torres," he answered, and you ran through the array of faces you'd met. There was a Mariana Böschl , but she was old enough to be his mother, not his grandmother.

You shook your head slowly. "I can check the registry tomorrow, but I don't think she's with us."

"Thanks," Joaquin said, looking back out the window at the passing city. "Were you Blipped?"

"No," you shook your head, pulling into your designated parking spot by your apartment. "I was lucky." The two of you climbed out of the car, and he met you by the trunk, pulling the blankets out before you could reach for them.

"Thank you," you said. And he gave a small grin.

"Thanks for letting me stay with you."

You gestured with your head up the stairs, heading to your third floor apartment.

Joaquin trailed behind you, arms laden with the blankets, waiting patiently as you stopped and opened the door. "Welcome to my home," you greeted, allowing him to enter before you. Your small apartment was dark, and you flicked on the light so that Joaquin could walk further inside without running into a wall or your table. "You can put the blankets by the couch, I'll wash them tomorrow," you instructed, and he did as you suggested before wandering over to the couch.

"I think I have an extra pillow in the closet," you said.

"Great," he thanked, dropping down onto the couch.

It took a few minutes to find the pillow and put a pillowcase on top of it. By the time you walked back out to the living room, the light was still on, and so were his shoes, but he was passed out. You walked over to the sleeping boy, placing the pillow down next to the couch in case he woke up and pulling the blanket over his body, your eyes once more tracing over his injuries.

You would have to speak to Karli about the violence.

#joaquin torres x reader #torres x reader #joaquín torres x reader #joaquin torres #joaquín torres #lieutenant torres #lieutenant torres x reader #fatws #tfatws

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acciocriativity · 3 years

Text

Helpless||Harry Potter

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Summary: You are one of the students of the Beauxbatons commission and like the others you are determined to win the Triwizard Tournament but instead of the Goblet of Fire, you ended this season at Hogwarts with something better .

Word Count: 2,0 k

N / A: This story is based on the Helpless of the musical Hamilton and if you want, I recommend listening to the song along with the lyrics.

Part II

Ooh, I do, I do, I do, I do (hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey)

Hey! Ooh, I do, I do, I do, I do (Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey)

I have come to be known for some characteristics over the years. For most of my colleagues, determination and patience, but for my family and especially my sister, I was always going to be a hopeless romantic.

But then we heard about the Tournament and I would have to concentrate fully if my name came out of the Goblet of Fire, so I decided to leave this side of me in France. But that change did not last more than a few hours.

Boy, you got me helpless

Look into your eyes, and the sky's the limit

We were all sitting at the Ravenclaw table while the director finished announcing the Triwizard Tournament formalities and I couldn't be paying any less attention. From the moment I entered that room, a pair of bright brown eyes caught my eye. I couldn't help noticing the incredible amount of redheads on one table, but only one of them left me with a different feeling that I didn't know until now.

Of course, I didn't spend much time looking. My goal here is very specific, I would not have time for distractions as my name could be called up tomorrow.

- Of course, to travel to a swamp on the other side of the world, you're going to have to give up putting your name in the cup, right? - my sister asked in an irritated tone of voice and I had no idea why or what she was saying.

- Oh sure, I think it's a great idea, sis - I replied with a smile as I looked back at the director, but he was no longer standing - has he finished? Has he talked about the Yule Ball too?? - I asked, looking back at the older one.

- Yes, why are you acting like this? Eat a little, I think the trip didn't do you much good - she replied with a worried tone, leaving the anger aside.

I agreed to a nod and concentrated on the French food that had been kindly prepared for our arrival, but my eyes kept looking back at the table where he was one last time.

I'm helpless

Down for the count, and I'm drownin 'in' on

The next day, during the morning there was a circle of students around the Goblet of Fire but as soon as we arrived, they made room and then each one of us put the paper with our name in there. I chose to be the last in line, because I was in no hurry and for a single reason. He was there again.

The same eyes, but now I could see more closely and without having to worry because it was not in my direction that they were. The boy was having a lively conversation with some other students and his own twin.

After my turn passed, I walked over to where a friend was standing because I also wanted to see the rest of the competition, that's not exactly what happened.

I admit it was a funny scene to see the two of them being thrown two meters out of that circle but at the same time, I was a little worried.

I have never been the type to try and grab the spotlight

We were at a revel with some rebels on a hot night

After a few months, we were finally at that ball that promised to be one of the best events of the year and perhaps the decade at Hogwarts. A lot of things changed in the meantime, the first was that I wouldn’t be the champion but I was vehemently rooting for Fleur, the second thing is that a minor had entered the competition and that turned this castle upside down and finally, I had managed to get close to that redhead. To be fair, me and Alexia. We both agreed that only an idiot would voluntarily sign up as a minor, this caught the attention of Harry Potter's friends and himself.

In fact I learned his name, it's George, it's easy to tell when I can see his face. From the back, I don't have much of a guarantee and it's hard to see them standing still somewhere, so it's even more difficult for me that way.

Laughin 'at my sister as she's dazzling the room

Then you walked in and my heart went, "Boom!"

I had been invited by some boys before accepting to come with a student from Durmstrang, I confess that I hoped to be invited by George but I preferred not to risk waiting.

I looked for my sister with my eyes and it was not difficult to find her, she was dancing with her own partner in the middle of the dance floor, impossible not to notice. They were even a beautiful couple, but I knew she was interested in someone else, I just didn't know who. Just as I hadn't told her about my feelings yet.

My attention changed completely when I saw the door to the Great Hall open and the unaccompanied Weasley twins came in. My heart stopped for a second and I could feel it beat faster, some questions crossed my mind. I hadn't seen them before, did they come alone? Hope had returned.

Tryin 'to catch your eye from the side of the ballroom

Everybody's dancin' and the band's top volume

The slow song was over but I only noticed it when I saw the girl in front of me and then I smiled, trying not to lose sight of George but didn't go like that, since I was on the other side of the dance floor.

- You were having fun out there, weren’t you?? - I asked with a smile, giving up looking over her shoulder, so I just focused on her face.

- Yes, and where is your partner? You should be having fun too - she replied leaning against the wall beside me.

- He said he was going to talk to his friends but so far he hasn't returned - I couldn't hide my indifference, because I never had to hide anything with her.

Grind to the rhythm as we wine and dine

Grab my sister and whisper: Yo, this one's mine

- I know he wasn't your first choice, so who is it? I’m willing to know - his gaze left me and scanned the party full of people, looking for who could be right for me.

- I wanted to make sure he was interested in me before I told you. It's George, from the first moment we arrived here for the first time - I didn't try to hide my smile or my passionate look when I finally found the redhead again.

My sister made her way across the room to you (ooh)

And I got nervous thinking

"What's she gonna do?" (Ooh)

In a moment, she was beside me with an expression I didn't recognize and a second later the brunette was walking towards the other side of the dancefloor.

- Alexia, what are you going to do… - I didn't even try to speak out loud, because the music was incredibly loud for anyone but me to hear.

To my horror, she walked towards the Weasleys and I

paralyzed. One of my sister's characteristics comes down to doing basically everything for me, I already knew that nothing bad could be in her intentions but that didn't relieve my nervousness.

She grabs you by the arm

I'm thinkin ', "I'm through" (ooh)

Then you look back at me

And suddenly I'm helpless

I couldn't look away even though I looked crazy to those outside, so the two stepped aside a few meters and I could hear my heartbeat increasing by the second.

Would I like to be able to hear them? Certainly, but before I could think better about it. He looked directly at me.

Oh, look at those eyes (look into your eyes)

And the sky's the limit

I'm helpless (I know)

Down for the count and I'm drownin '

Helpless (I am so into you)

Few things in life have left me so nervous as that moment when George Weasley was walking towards me, with that smile on his face, the kind of smile I hadn't seen yet but perfectly matched his features.

She accompanied him halfway and winked at me before returning to the dancefloor. I didn't know what to expect but I would thank her forever, if that was what my hopeless heart was telling me.

Look into your eyes (I am so into you)

And the sky's the limit

I'm helpless

I know I'm down for the count

And I'm drownin 'in' in

The night ended perfectly and I almost felt like it was fate, because his partner ended up dancing with my partner. So they didn't even care for a second about being "abandoned", not that I was going to let this opportunity just slip through my fingers.

He was cute and kind, we danced and talked a little bit alone before going back to our friends.

But this time it was different because we were never so close to each other, I couldn't help but notice his arm around my shoulder, making me stay even closer to him.

That was my signal, the signal that this night meant something more to him too.

One week later

I'm writin 'a letter nightly

Now my life gets better, every letter that you write me

A week later, I had come to Paris with Ale to spend the Christmas holiday with our parents, but it didn't mean that we would lose contact. At that point it was past midnight when I was replying the letter I just received.

The owl that brought it was barely able to flap its wings when it arrived here and as it was freezing outside, I left it in the cage with mine to rest. She drank some water and practically passed out, poor thing.

- As I was saying, he really cares about you. Who wouldn't want someone like that? - she said after reading the letter I received.

- You will find one of these soon, there is a whole group of boys waiting for the chance of their lives to show you that - I replied with a smile while thinking of the right words to answer, everything had to be extremely perfect.

Laughin 'at my sister 'cause she wants to form a harem

I'm just sayin ', if you really loved me, you would share him

Ha!

- Yes, but still, it is not enough - she replied pouting but then smiled as if an idea had crossed her mind - we shared everything, why not that too? - She completed folding the letter and I just laughed.

- That's the only thing we can't share in this life and you're too jealous to share someone - I replied laughing even more at the expression she made.

- I'm going to sleep, just don't take too long to answer this letter, ok? Tomorrow we will all go out together, in case your little head has forgotten - she gave me one last hug before leaving, but I noticed that the light in her room was on for a while longer.

Many other things happened afterwards, but my hand is hurting and my ink is running out, so I'll leave the rest for later, ok? I promise don't keep you waiting to know what's happens next. See you tomorrow, dear diary.

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stefciastark · 3 years

Text

"Please! I-" ~Webpril Day 20

A/N: Today's is short and sweet, but I enjoyed writing out a bit of an argument scene :) Dialogue scares me to write, weirdly enough, but I think it's because I'm so afraid of writing the characters out-of-character, so this was a fun but slightly anxiety inducing exercise. Peter really is going to be the death of Tony. Hope you enjoy xx Only 10 days left!

~Read it on AO3

~Read it on FFN

“Please! I-”

“Zip it, I don’t want to hear it.”

“But-”

“I don’t want to hear it!” Tony dragged his hand down his face, taking deep and measured breaths to hold on to whatever semblance of reason and sanity he had left. “You could have died. Did that even cross your mind for a second?”

“But I didn’t.” Peter’s voice was small, shrinking back against the cold fury that pulsed off of Tony in waves. It felt worse than the post-Ferry altercation between them months prior, and Peter had promised himself he wouldn’t screw up like that again. Well, the promise didn’t last long, and Peter - as Tony put it - screwed the pooch, hard. Again.

“You don’t even know how to fly a plane, Peter, you’re not Captain Sully. This isn’t ‘Miracle on the Hudson’, you could have killed people!”

“People would have died if I didn’t do something, Mr Stark!”

What had started as frustration turned to anger, and what was anger was now turning into resentment.

“I expected more from you, kid.”

Tony’s disappointment felt like a slap to the face, and the anger and indignation Peter had been holding in for months finally exploded.

“I’m so sick of you underestimating me! You tell me how much you want me to be better, about how now that I’m an Avenger I need to step up from just protecting the ‘little guy’, but you never give me the chance! At every opportunity or sign of real danger you bench me, so when I saw my chance to prove myself, I took it.”

Tony’s tone dropped to a frightening level of calm, and Peter clenched his fists against the faint trembling that had started.

“Everything I’ve done has been to protect you. Do you understand that? I don’t need you chasing the life of a martyr.”

Despite himself, Peter felt his head nodding, and he couldn’t quite bring himself to retaliate. Tony reminded Peter a lot of Aunt May sometimes. They both had an innate ability to scare the living hell out of him. Their anger was like a hurricane and reminded Peter of an Eye of the Storm. It began with chaos, lulling to a stillness and silence that gave Peter one last chance to backpedal, followed by more chaos. Backpedaling seemed like the most viable choice this time around; Peter was more afraid of losing the suit again.

“I just wish you’d give me a chance…”

Tony sighed, an exhausted sound that drifted past his lips into the tense air between them. “I know. Do you remember that little talk we had after the ferry incident?”

“Yeah.”

“I can’t lose you, kid. Every time you swing from a building, I’m afraid the cord will snap. Every time you go up against bad guys with guns, I’m afraid the bullet won’t miss. Bottom line is, I can’t have you giving me a heart attack every mission. Now this? This was almost a cardiac arrest.”

The aggravation Peter had been experiencing slowly transformed into a sickening feeling of guilt. For the first time, he really saw the circles under Tony’s eyes, the very faint and almost imperceptible trembling in his hands - although that may have been from anger, Peter couldn’t tell - and the deepened frown lines on his mentor’s face.

Peter’s heart was still pumping with adrenaline from the incident, the rough jolts as the aircraft hit the water still vibrating through his body. He had managed to land it in the Upper Bay area between Manhattan and Staten Island. Why the hell did it always have to be in the Upper Bay? First the ferry a few months ago and now a plane. Peter mentally vowed to steer clear of the whole area; in all likelihood, the next crisis in line would be a bus incident where it would somehow end up in the water, and he would somehow be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Third time’s the charm.

“I’m sorry, Mr Stark.” Peter closed his eyes, not wanting to see the expression - Peter almost wanted to call it ‘regret’ but he quickly shook that thought away - on Tony’s face again. He felt like ‘I’m sorry’ didn’t quite cut it. In all actuality, he wasn’t sorry in the slightest for doing what he did. Peter was more sorry that he was the one causing the slightly premature grey hairs on Tony’s head.

Peter felt the movement of the space in front of him as Tony moved closer. The anger from the atmosphere had dissipated, leaving behind only an air of bone-deep weariness.

“I’m not going to take your suit, so don’t give me that whole ‘deer in the headlights’ thing.”

Peter swallowed against the lump in his throat. The weight of the snowballing pile of emotion lifted off of his chest and ironically made him emotional once again. This time, relief won out. “Thank you Mr Stark. I just really want you to give me a chance, y’know?” He really hoped his voice wasn’t wavering.

“It’s not that I don’t believe in you, Pete.” Tony placed his hand on Peter’s shoulder and worried his bottom lip for a second before continuing. “You did great today.”

The conversation came to its end as the warmth lifted off of Peter’s shoulder, and he turned to watch as Tony walked towards his portion of the Avengers facility.

Tony smiled inwardly as he approached the hallway that led to his segment of the facility, the smile a reaction to Peter’s heroic performance that he’d never let the kid see. He didn’t want to send the wrong message that impulsivity and recklessness should be the default. Then again, who was he to talk? He felt a deep-seated sense of pride, and he had to shake away the accompanying intrusive thought that asked him whether or not Howard had ever felt that way towards Tony’s triumphs.

As he caught sight of himself in one of the passing reflective surfaces, the image of salt and pepper hair and bags - that sure as hell weren’t designer - under his eyes greeted him. Peter really was going to be the death of him.

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wreckofawriter · 5 years

Text

Just Checking

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin!reader

Word Count: 2,219

Warnings: None

Request: Hey! I just read some of your work and you're brilliant! Can I get a 2 and a 23 paired with Fred Weasley? You write him so wonderfully

2: "Hey... what's wrong with your face?"

23: "I cant belive I'm about to tell you this."

A/n: Holy shit this is late. I'm so sorry. I was with family all week and had no time to write. Anyway, I hope you guys like it!❤

You picked your head up from your book as you heard a whooping cheer come from the head of the room. You were greeted by the sight of identical redhead who bounced into the room with excitement.

Your eyes instinctively rolled as you saw the older twin wink at you.

"It's not going to work." A young Gryffindor girl named Hermione Granger said in a sing songy voice.

"Oh yeah?" George asked.

"And why's that Granger?" Fred finished.

"You see this?" She gestured toward the growing ring on the floor, "This is an age line. Dumbledore drew it himself."

"So?" Fred asked.

Hermione and you both huffed in unison, they were incompetent.

"So, someone that brilliant won't be fooled by something as pathetically dim witted as an aging potion." She scoffed.

"Ah but that's why it's so brilliant." Fred chuckled.

"Because it's so pathetically dim witted." George finished.

"Are you truly that stupid Weasley?" You asked, raising both eyebrows at the boys.

"Probably." Fred shrugged. Before they both straightened up, shaking their bottles. "But if you're so sure it won't work y/l/n you wouldn't mind going on a date if it did." He teased.

"Sure." You shrugged so sure of Dumbledore's ability you would have bet your life on it.

"Alright then it's a deal." Fred winked again, you rolled your eyes again. "And no backing out when I win."

"If you win." You corrected.

"Ready Fred?" They younger asked.

"Ready George." The older responded.

"Bottoms up!" They said in unison as they crossed their arms and downed their bottles.

Then together they lept from where they were standing into the age circle. To your horror, it allowed them in, you felt your heart begins to pick up speed as Fred smirked at you, cheers erupting from those around you.

"Proves nothing." You scoffed.

"But we got into the impossible age line." George pointed out.

"I'm thinking this weekend at hogsmeade," Fred joked as he danced around the goblet adding his name at the same time as his brother, "We could go to the three broomsticks then Honeydukes. What do you think?" He asked turning toward you. Just then the two boys were thrown from the circle in a flash of blue. Everyone around you gasped. You on the other hand giggled.

After a few seconds you walked towards the heaps on the ground still laughing.

"I think that would be terrible." You smirked. Fred then looked up at you and laughter erupted from your lips, "Hey ...what's wrong with your face?" You giggled uncontrollably.

Fred raised his white bushy eyebrows at you and you fell to the floor in a fresh wave of laughter, this went way better than you thought it would.

"Fred?" George asked from beside him. The twins locked eyes shocked expressions taking over their faces.

"This is your fault!" Fred gasped growing red.

"My fault!" George gasped, "How is this my fault?"

You stood up smirked once again waving at the old men in front of you, before turning and leaving the scene, green robes billowing behind you.

"I'm gonna kill you George!" Fred shouted leaping on his brother after watching your reatreting form.

"He's staring again." Adrian whispered into your ear.

"What's new?" You grumbled rolling your eyes. It wasn't like you needed Adrian to tell you about the staring, you could feel Freds eyes boring holes into the back of your head.

Adrian chuckled and let his eyes wander to the front of the class. You tried to do the same but the thought of Fred's deep brown eyes being locked on you made focusing an impossible dream.

You whipped your head around immediately meeting his eyes. You glared at him and he winked back. On a reflex you rolled your eyes and turned your head back to the front of the class.

Fred had been like this since second year, the stares, the winks, the jokes, the flirting. It never ended. You had simply become accustomed to it. You remembered when it first happened. He had flirted with you in Snape's class, after he was separated from George he was forced upon you and you had been so flustered as a 12 year old girl who had never been flirted with before that you split all of the potion you were making. And since then he had always been there, annoying you, making you blush, embarrassing you. You had simply become accustomed to Fred.

Once Flitwick dismissed you, you and Adrian left the classroom and headed toward potions. Personally you loved potions you knew that many people hated it because of Snape, but hell, he loved you, you were one of his top students. So when you entered the dungeons you couldn't help but feel a bit more peppy.

"I wonder what we are going to be studying today." You gasped excitedly, "I hope its poisons!"

Adrian laughed, "You are so weird y/l/n."

"Thanks." You smirked before entering the classroom and taking your seat. You glanced at the board and felt excitement once again rise in your throat.

In Snape's signature handwriting could be read one word. Amortentia. You tapped your feet on the floor excited for the lesson ahead of you.

After a few more minutes the classroom had filled up, well at first you thought it did, but at the same time, it seemed incredibly empty. Why was that?

You brushed of the feeling and focused back on the board.

"Does anyone know the effects of this potion?" Snape drawled.

Your hand shot in the air.

"Ms. Y/l/n?"

"Amortentia is the world's strongest know love potion. When given to a person it makes you fall into a desperate infatuation with that whom presented it. When smelling Amortentia you smell that which you love" you finished taking in a breath.

"Very good Ms. Y/l/n, 15 points to Slytherin."

You smiled and then was once again overwhelmed with that empty feeling. Something was missing. Once again you brushed it off.

"Now as Ms. Y/l/n said when you smell Amortentia you smell what you love. So I have some and I would like you to take notes on what you smell." Snape snapped, seeming very uncomfortable happy as usual.

He waved his wand and a small cauldron drifted to each desk. You could smell the most beautiful concoction of things the second it reached your table. You inhaled deep trying to place the smells.

You smelt fresh rain on grass. You smelt blueberry pancakes, bleach from a chlorinated pool and, what was that smell?

It was sweet with a bit of smoky to it, like candy and gunpowder mixed, you inhaled more deeply trying desperately to place the smell but you were helpless.

Just then there was a loud bang from the front of the classroom. Your head whipped upwards to see two red headed twins speaking to Snape. They seemed to be laughing, Snape was quite unamused.

They headed to there seats being followed by "45 points from Gryffindor!"

When they passed you Fred through you a wink. They then took the desk behind you and you focused back on that smell. What was it?

Just as you were getting back into your thoughts you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned around to be met with those deep brown eyes.

"Yes Fred?" You asked impatiently.

"So, y/n I was wondering if you would do me the pleasure of accompanying me to the ball in a few weeks?" He smirked, his messy red hair falling into his face.

You rolled your eyes, "Try fixing your hair next time Weasley." You said as you brushed his hair out of his face.

Fred flashed red from the contract but gained his composure quite quickly, "Oh, but I'm sure you would love to see my hair messy every morning."

You scoffed and inhaled sharply, on that inhale you got a strong whiff of that smell again, stronger than before. But you were facing away from the Amortentia? Then it hit you like a bus.

You were smelling Fred in the potion resting on your desk. Your face was bathed in crimson as you look back up at the boy. Your breathing had become shallow and your eyes were panicked.

Unsure of what to do you simply snatched your stuff off of your desk and sprinted for the door.

You could hear your name being called by various voices behind you but you didn't care. You kept sprinting until you were completely out of breath. You then walked to the side of the corridor and slid to the floor.

What the hell was happening? Why did you smell Fred? You didn't love Fred! He was the annoying git you had to deal with since you got boobs in 2nd year, he was just the guy who wouldn't stop flirting with you, and embarrassing you. He was just Fred.

Fred. Fred and his stupidly soft red hair and his idiotic deep brown eyes. Fred with his ridiculous jokes and his imbecile smile that made his eyes sparkle. Fred who's absence made rooms seem empty, Fred who made you smile everyday. Fred who told that Gryffindor to fuck off in third year and punched that Ravenclaw in fifth because they were messing with you. Fred who you secretly missed every summer. Fred who was always there. Fred who you always wanted there. Fred who you were in love with.

You buried your head in your hands and drew your knees to your chest. This couldn't be happening. What if your parents found out you were in love with a Weasley, a blood traitor. They would kill him and disown you! You began to panic again, your heart speeding in your chest you could feel you head pounding and your breath coming in short gasps.

"Oh thank god." You heard looking up.

Your eyes were greeted by a tall slim figure you recognized instantly.

"Oh Merlin y/n are you alright?" Fred asked dropping to his knees in front of you.

Your breathing picked up speed and you began to stand up.

"Woah woah woah woah!" Fred gasped putting his large hands on your shoulders to keep you in place. "I'm not going to hurt you alright?" His eyes were soft, his pink lips pulled into a concerned frown. "I'd never hurt you." He whispered

"Just slow your breathing down for me alright?" He asked raising his eyebrows, "In and out nice and slow, in and out."

As he talked to you you closed your eyes and followed his instructions. After a few minutes your breathing was normal and you opened your eyes again.

You were almost taken aback by the sight. There Fred was his smooth red hair hanging on his face, his deep brown eyes sparkling in the faint candlelight that bounced of the dungeon walls, his lips looked deliciously soft a small smile playing on them.

"You okay?" He asked

You nodded slowly trying not to stare at those lips.

"I just want to say, I was just making a joke, I didn't mean anything by it. It's not like I'm go-"

"I didn't leave because of your stupid joke." You chuckled.

"Oh." Fred looked surprised, he leaned back into a sitting position loosely hanging his arms around his knees.

"Yeah." You murmured looking down at the stone floor.

"Why did you leave then?" He questioned.

You huffed, "Well um." You paused, "I can't believe I'm about to tell you this." You squeezed your eyes shut pursuing your lips before opening them and saying, "I smelled you in my Amortentia potion and it wasn't until you got close to me when I realized."

You opened your eyes slowly. Fred's mouth was hanging open and his eyes were the size of golfballs.

"A-are you serious?" He stammered.

You once again nodded slowly.

"You love me?" He all but whispered.

You bit your lip and nodded again even more hesitant.

Fred just sat there. He shook his head in confusion and exhaled loudly.

"Please don't freak out." You begged. "Because I'm already freaking out and if you freak out I don't think I'm going to be okay. I mean if my parents find out I'm in love with a Weasley they will probably disown me or something and-"

"Hey." Fred placed his arms on your shoulders again, "You are going to be alright, I promise." His lips were parted in a wide smile, his white teeth flashed brilliantly.

You took a deep breath in and then let it out, "Okay."

"Now can I kiss you?" Fred asked blushing a bit.

"Please." You begged. With that his lips were on yours. His hands moved from your shoulders to your waist as yours found his hair. He pulled you close as he could closing all the space between you.

You felt his tongue graze your lip and you opened your mouth as you tugged on his hair lightly.

Eventually you broke away gasping for air from swollen lips. Removing you hands from his hair and placing them around his neck.

"Hey y/n/n?" Fred smirked.

"Yes Fred?" You inquired.

"Would you go to the ball with me?" He smiled.

"Of course idiot." You giggled.

"Just checking."

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multiversemuses · 7 years

Photo

A Sonata for a Root Vegetable ~ A Growing Love Story in Nine GIFs and 1,000+ Words

@darthvoldemaul

“You’re one of my favorite people in the whole wide world; you know that?” Danny prefaces one day while they’re hanging out at Spatola’s.

“Right back at you,” Rhett replies, scratching his chin and leaning back against the green cushion of the booth. “But?”

“But are you ever gonna break the ice and actually talk to her?”

“Who?”

Danny gives him a look and tosses a crumpled napkin at his face.

“You know who, dude.”

Rhett rolls his eyes even though his crooked smile belies this feigned annoyance.

“For the last time, I do not have ‘a thing’ for your lady friend’s best friend.”

“Lies.”

“I don’t. I mean she’s cute or whatever, I guess, but I don’t even know her.”

“You could, if you’d just let me put in a good word.”

“Nah, that’s even worse. I can do my own flirting, man, when I want to.”

“Nola says you just get this really intense look on your face and then sorta walk away all broody.”

“Did she tell her that?”

“No. Nola saw you guys pass each other outside Farley’s.”

“Then she also saw that her friend didn’t even look my way, so it’s all good. Doesn’t matter what my face is doing if it’s just your girlfriend and Butter the Cat watching me through the bookshop window. Her bestie didn’t notice a thing.”

Danny folds his arms and looks away. “I wouldn’t be so sure...,” he mumbles cryptically.

“Why? What’d she say? Did she mention me to you guys?”

Danny’s expression breaks into a broad grin and he cackles triumphantly.

“Busted! You do give a shit. I called it!”

Rhett slumps sideways and groans loudly.

“I hate you.”

As the months go by and Danny and Nola start spending more time together, so too do their friend groups. “Groups” is being used a little loosely here since Nola really only has a couple of friends her own age. However, this only means that there are even less people standing as physical buffers between Rhett and The Girl.

The absence of Rhett’s A-Game is reaching such a level that it is even starting to be noticed by the (albeit unintentionally) oblivious. It took Marty three years to discover her best friend and roommate was in love with her and even she can discern something is up with her shaggy sidekick.

“You okay, Rhettro Chic?” Marty asks one night at a party, eyeing him over her glass. “You’re being all quiet. It’s weird.”

Vanessa, who is seated at the table with them, follows Rhett’s line of sight and figures out whose gaze has left him flummoxed. Mercifully, she uses her very recent upgrade to girlfriend status to distract the other young woman from this line of inquiry. Nessa presses her lips to Marty’s ear and murmurs what Rhett can only assume is a request to dance, given that they start making their way toward the floor.

As they cross the room, Vanessa gives Rhett a pointed look over her shoulder and tilts her head toward where Danny, Nola, and her friend are standing. Rhett gives her a grateful nod in return. If he is finally going to do this thing, love her though he does, Rhett really does not need Marty’s encouraging whistles and calls echoing after him.

He downs a gulp of his beer and strides determinedly toward the far corner. Danny sees his friend’s approach and gets a knowing look in his eye. After a little idle chitchat, Danny uses his best goofy smile and dance moves to coax Nola away with him so Rhett will have his opportunity.

Somehow, just like that, it feels like Danny has found a way to make this all easier on Rhett without directly interfering. Now, if he speaks to Nola’s friend, Rhett will seem like he's sparing her the awkwardness of being left behind as a third wheel. There can even be an unspoken commiseration over their current third wheel-iness. Rhett turns to face this fellow “single Pringle” and manages a smile that almost doesn’t look nervous at all.

“So, how’ve you been?”

Progress has been made, it’s fair to say, although they're still very much in the friendly acquaintance stage. Even so, it’s nice to be able to exchange subtle nods of greeting across South Main Street. Danny has other ways of reaching the bookshop if he were so inclined, but he conveniently keeps asking Rhett for a ride to make sure his best bud will be in the right place at the right time. Not wanting to be too obvious, Rhett always busies himself afterward by entering other nearby shops as if he’s come this way to run errands. Much to his delighted surprise, there comes one afternoon when Nola’s friend uses this to her advantage. Rhett comes back to find a scrap of notebook paper with seven digits tucked under his windshield wiper.

Call me sometime - S.

“So your friend Marty always addresses you by a nickname?”

“Sorta. I don’t know if it really counts as a nickname when she tries to steer clear of repeats so it’s never the same. More like name puns? Play on words or whatever.”

“Gotcha. I’m gonna give you one for your contact in my phone. It’s like Rheumatologist, Rhinocerous, stuff like that?”

“Nah, that’s more like that Benedict guy who played the dragon fr--”

“Got it! I’m texting you a screenshot.”

“...Rutabaga Wickerchair. You’re pretty proud of that one, aren’t you?”

“Taking my bows as we speak. I brought it up a level ’cause your last name’s in it now, too.”

“All right, two can play at that game. Check your messages.”

“Symphony OldMacDonald. That is... something special.”

“Hey, it’s a closer match than Rutabaga.”

“Debatable.”

“A coffee date. Very conventional. And very not you.”

“What can I say? I’m a man of mystery. Gotta keep you on your toes.”

"Sure, Jan. C’mon, spill it. What’s going on, Scruffleupagus? You’re up to something; I know it. This wouldn’t happen to be one of your collaborative effort pranks, would it?”

“Dunno. Guess you’ll have to wait in suspense and find out.”

“Gonna keep your secrets to the last, huh? All right. But I’m on to you.”

“Scruffle Shuffle!”

Rhett cleans the cheese dust off his fingers with meticulous care, pretending not to hear.

“Rhett!”

He tilts back his head, catching the remaining bag crumbs in his mouth. Rhett gives no indication that he has seen her waving.

“Pardon me... Handsome!”

Rhett smiles in spite of himself but keeps up the act that he hasn’t noticed her prior to this moment.

“Oh hey, Syd.”

“Y’know, strictly speaking, we’re not allowed to bring outsiders back here.”

“Funny, of the two of us, I’d have said you're the one who favors the Ponyboy aesthetic.”

“Har-dee-har. You know the kind I mean.”

“Non-delinquents?”

“Uh, yeah, something like that.”

“They’re right to be wary, y’know.”

“’Cause I’m such a bad influence?”

“No, ’cause I am. I throw a mean bash, mister. Gimme a box of rinse cups, some AA batteries, and a little dry ice and I could put this place on the social map in a night.”

“A regular Party MacGyver, eh?”

“Damn straight.”

“I’d better not let The Powers That Be know you’re here, then.”

“You’re gonna protect me from your scary headmistress?”

“Yup.”

“Risking life and limb for your lady fair?”

“Yeah or, y’know, like a month’s detention.”

“And they say chivalry is dead.”

“This is where you wanted to show me? One of the piers under the bridge?”

“Yup, this is the one.”

“Interesting. Why this place? What makes it special?”

“I don’t know. It’s quiet, I guess.”

“Yeah. Or it was, ’til you brought me out here.”

“Hmm... The water does seem weirdly still. Even the semis don’t scare off the fish, but they sure heard you coming.”

“Watch yourself, Studly, or I’m gonna help you get intimately acquainted with the Delaware.”

A handful of the academy kids are sitting with Nola and her friends around a bonfire on the shoreline. On a log by themselves near the far side of the circle, Syd and Rhett scuff sand onto the ends of each other’s shoes and make shadow puppets in the flickering glow from the flames.

“Crap, outta juice again,” Marty whines a little louder than necessary and tilts her Solo cup with an exaggerated flip of the wrist.

“There are a few Mike’s left in the cooler,” Nola points out.

Marty pretends to consider them but wrinkles her nose. “The ice has gotten melted from being too close to the fire.”

“I’ll get you a cold one from the spare supply in the truck,” Vanessa volunteers.

“Aww, thanks, babe. You’re the best.” Marty gives her a peck on the cheek and they discretely exchange a conspiratorial wink.

Things go back to normal for a minute or two until Marty’s cell phone suddenly blares. The ringtone is so loud that everyone around the bonfire jumps about half a foot.

“Sha la la la la la! Don't be scared. You better be prepared. Go on and kiss the girl!

Marty puts a hand to her chest and gives an exaggerated laugh.

“Oh, that must be my talent manager. Excuse me. I really have to take this.”

She sweeps away into the darkness with the phone pressed to her ear, kicking Rhett’s shin rather sharply as she passes. He winces and rubs the leg of his jeans but, when he sits upright again, Syd is watching him. Did she glance at his lips just then or was it a trick of the light?

#Ship: All's Fair in Love and Prank Wars #Rhett Whitaker #theclonewriter #Me @ me: Y R U like this? I WAS JUST PLAYING AROUND WITH MY IMAGINATION.#There's like a whole story behind this too because like #my sister asked me to watch the show with her and I thought to myself #'Hmm she kinda has some Alycia-level waviness going on with her hair.#Since ADC is our Jackie maybe Katherine could be good for the OTP with Rhett? We shall see.'#And then of course after the series all I wanted was for a faceclaim of her to be in a universe where she'd be happy & laugh & smile a lot #and what better place than engaging in pranks and banter with my beloved Chewbacca son?#so I started tinkering around with ship gifs and got in too deep #and then I saw a book at work with Rutabaga in the title and that sparked an idea #and the next thing I know I'm writing scenes to accompany every gif #and now here we are :P #Made for Muses

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