#AND YES I KICK MY FEET LIKE A MIDDLE SCHOOLER WITH A CRUSH AS I PLAY THIS SILLY TURN BASED RPG HUSBANDO GAME

[rddykilowatt]

“Hm. I’m a decent man you know, are you really gonna touch me like that?~”

[fruitcoops]

Kindling & Embers

O'Knutzy Week Day 5 (HA!!): Camping (B4) and Borrowed (D4)! Characters belong to @lumosinlove, and one last massive thank-you to @oknutzyweek2023 for the most fabulous of fests <3

For more of this AU, check out First Burn and Spark ;)

TW for mentioned alcohol

Deft hands plucked two bottles from the picnic table; they hung loose for a moment’s hesitation, then vanished in the shadows as a figure turned away from the bonfire and began heading Leo’s way with startling purpose.

Sweet mother of fuck, Leo thought, dragging his eyes along lambswool lapels and porcelain wrists. He even looks delicious in denim.

Footsteps came to a soft halt in the blanket of pine needles. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Leo winced at his own breathlessness. His small t-shirt—perhaps too small, but he could take a bit of ribbing from Remus if it meant he got to pick up tonight—suddenly felt too warm. “Uh, hi.”

“Leo, right?”

“Knut.” He caught himself, and shook his head. “I mean—yes, I’m Leo. Leo Knut. Station Twelve.”

“Right.” A smile cracked over rose-petal lips like a firework. The bottles clinked lightly as they were transferred to one hand, the other held out in offer. “Finn O’Hara. Seventeen.”

“I know who you are,” Leo said through a smile, though he shook Finn’s hand. It was cool and long-fingered; the touch lingered at his wrist for a split second. His stomach plummeted. His heart soared.

Finn’s eyebrow arched in curious mischief. “Oh, do you?”

“We’ve met.”

Finn’s smile dropped. “Fuck, have we?”

“Yeah,” Leo laughed. Christ, who was he, a middle schooler with a crush? “The Christmas party?”

He was gifted reprieve from earnest, sparkling eyes when Finn glanced to the side, one canine tooth poking out as he bit his lip. His thumbpad traced a dewy bottlecap. Leo kind of wanted to stick it in his mouth. “The Christmas—” Finn’s gaze snapped to him. “Oh my god.”

“It’s fine—”

“Oh my god,” Finn repeated, raking a hand through his hair. “Yes, no, I remember you. God. Fuck. Sorry. About this and—yeah. Christmas.”

“I told you, it’s fine!”

Merry Christmas!

…hi?

Hi! Can I sit on your lap?

Leo had been so distracted by the teasing press of tongue to a pointy tooth that he had utterly forgotten about his dumb, ‘I-lost-a-bet’ costume.

Huh?

Santa, right? I’m Finn. Can I sit on your lap?

Finn’s blush looked just as magical in firelight as it had under twinkling false snowflakes. This time, though, it was more mortified than bold. “I…am so sorry,” he said with a shake of his head.

“Hey, no apologies.” Leo pushed him gently on the shoulder and immediately regretted it. Under the soft denim, Finn was fucking firm. Sneaky little firefighter. He half-wondered what else was hidden under adorable layers. “You were not the only person to ask me that.”

“That, I can believe,” Finn huffed. The tips of his ears went red. “Oh—sorry, that was out loud.”

Another laugh bubbled out of Leo. He should just start kicking his feet and twirling his hair at this rate. He took a shaky breath and nodded to the beers. “Got something for me?”

“What?” Finn glanced down, then gave a bit of a start. “Yeah, I—yeah. You didn’t have anything, so I figured you might…you know. Want something.”

A door, opening just a crack. Leo dove for it. “I do,” he said carefully, ducking his head with a small smile. Finn’s pretty eyes flickered over his face. He cracked the caps off the bottles in two quick motions and held one out—Leo let his pinky brush the curve of Finn’s fingers when he took it. “Thanks, Finn.”

Finn’s throat bobbed. “You can call me Harzy, if you want to.”

“That what your friends call you?”

“Mhmm.”

Leo hummed. Condensation cooled his burning palms. His pulse hammered with concerning speed. “I like your jacket. Very REI-chic. Ready to go camping in the Adirondacks.”

“My brother gave it to me.” Finn held his arm out. “I used to borrow it, like, every day in high school. The elbows and the cuffs are kind of fucked, see?”

Leo reached out—past the threadbare cuffs, past the patched sleeves, until he could take the woolly lapel in his hand. It was unbearably soft under his thumb, creamier than Finn’s freckled skin. He was close enough to risk a touch like this. An inch up and he’d know what that razor-sharp collarbone felt like. “Nah,” he said instead, forcing back the tremor in his voice. “Suits you.”

Maybe it was his imagination, but he thought he felt Finn sway toward him. “Hey,” Finn began. “Do you wanna take a walk?”

A smile fought its way onto Leo’s face. “Sure.”

“Sick.” Finn stuffed his hand in his pocket, grinning into the rim of his beer. “I really love these get-togethers, but the smoke gets to be a little much, y’know?”

“It is kind of ironic. Guess that’s the point.” Something clicked in Leo’s memory as they headed for the perimeter. “Y’all do wildfires, right?”

Finn, halfway through a swig, shook his head and swallowed. “Yeah, but just the regular for me. Seventeen’s a combo unit, since we’re way the fuck out there.”

“I was chatting with one of your guys at New Year’s.” Among other things. That night had been interesting, and Logan, even moreso. His glossy lashes still haunted Leo’s best dreams. “Guess there aren’t a lot of houses to burn in the yeehaw sector.”

“Right,” Finn snorted. “We’ve got a tight squad, though. You should visit sometime. We could use another set of hands.”

“I don’t pull people out of buildings, Harzy. I just stick ‘em back together.”

“And I bet you do a mighty fine job of it.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Maybe.” Finn’s face seemed to dance in the distant light of the fire. Sir, please put your freckles away.

Leo brought his beer to his lips to cover his smile. His trachea and esophagus were wound around each other, screaming without end. “Hm.”

“Come on,” Finn teased, nudging their shoulders together. “I gotta get a couple in to make up for Christmas.”

“I told you, I’m really not bothered, or offended, or anything.”

“Makes one of us.” Finn paused, then tilted his face toward the sky. It was dark enough to pick out a few stars if Leo squinted, but…he didn’t really want to look away from Finn. “Seriously, that was dumb and rude of me.” Finn’s voice was quieter than before, more serious. “I shouldn’t have flirted with you, and especially not like that.”

Leo’s trachea-esophagus pretzel constricted and sent words popping from his mouth like a bottle rocket. “You can flirt with me if you want.”

…fuck.

Finn’s brows had disappeared under his thick, floppy hair. Leo could see his wide eyes even in the near-total darkness of the woods. “Do you want me to?”

Jesus, please strike me with a convenient case of lockjaw.

Leo tested his jaw. No such luck.

“I—” He wondered if Finn knew Logan. A tight squad, and all that. He wondered if Logan had told anyone about New Year’s. About rough red brick leaving stains on the back of Leo’s coat for days. About so many almosts and panting pleases and hands desperate for something before the clock ran out. About pressing hot and close in the frigid bite of December-January until they heard the party start up again inside. Logan had fit against Leo’s body like a puzzle piece finding home, and took something with him when he left.

The wildfires were bad this year, burning out of control. Finn was here, under the silent stars. Finn was here, and Logan was not. Flushed pink against his borrowed jean jacket and watching Leo with concern and—and a little bit of hope.

“Yes, please,” Leo said quietly.

This smile was newer. Softer. Finn’s chin dipped; his blush was strawberry-pink and warm when Leo reached out to run his knuckles over it. He felt and heard Finn’s breath stutter.

“Finn…”

Finn was nodding before he could even ask, sliding an electric hand along Leo’s hip.

“Harzy,” Leo sighed into the first press of lips to his own. Finn made a questioning noise; Leo bit his smile into Finn’s lower lip. “Can I sit in your lap?”

[bytedykes]

More ritsu questions!!!! 9 and 11 and 14

hehe yes... YES...

9. Your least favorite outfit of them

already answered this one but to reiterate, his clothes are so #normal i cant really hate any of them <3 they are just not that memorable to me also... genuinely cant think of any outfits he wears beyond school uniform, the orange hoodie, and like. normal house clothes

11. What’s the first thing you think about when thinking about the character?

HN... THE LOANS... as well as all the panels of him being so not normal about spoons as well as how fucking SILLY this boy is!!!!! i love him so much!!! he is so FUCKING silly i could write a fucking essay about how silly he is! everything about ritsu is just so many layers of him being so fuckign WEIRD but being so vehement in his denial of that... he's literally ridiculous. he doesnt even listen to music. kicking my feet and twirling my hair fr

14. Best storyline they had

FUCK EVERYONE WHO DOESN'T LIKE BIG CLEANUP ARC!!! I FUCKING LOVE BIG CLEANUP ARC OK. i think it is so well done. like. the absolute GUILT AND DESPAIR ritsu is feeling, he is being CRUSHED under the weight of what he has done, he beats himself up about it so thoroughly he fucking manifests psychic powers, the thing he has been wishing for HIS WHOLE LIFE. and the cause of all this is because his classmate wanted to frame some guy for licking recorders. what the fuck for real

ok no i have more to say. its been a minute since i watched/read the big cleanup arc so forgive me if this is wrong, but iirc the whole reason ritsu goes along with kamuro's idea is because he wanted to protect mob. and like. its SO INTERESTING because he wants to keep mob safe so mob doesn't EXPLODE! he wants to like, keep mob in a bubble, he wants to bubblewrap him because mob is volatile, mob is dangerous, when mob gets stressed bad things happen and ritsu is scared! but also he loves his brother! he doesn't want delinquents bullying him! and even though he knows it's not like, great of them to frame people for perv things, he does it anyway and that leads to like a month straight of ritsu having the worst most haunted guilty paranoid time of his life lmao

plus in the anime we see more of ritsu being a model brother/student/son before his joker arc, which makes the contrast that much sharper and more impactful when he goes completely off the rails. also like the big cleanup arc is fucking hilarious . local teen goes thru so much stress he gains ability to blow things up with his mind. local teen starts beating the shit out of p- oh my god i just remembered he briefly pretended to be white t poison too how can u NOT love big cleanup arc. LOCAL TEEN STARTS BEATING THE SHIT OUT OF OTHER MIDDLE SCHOOLERS WITH HIS MIND POWERS, all while not refuting the claim that he is his brother's gangster alter ego. like. WHAT!!! he is insane!!!!

on top of that. ON TOP OF THAT. local teen lets an EVIL SPIRIT possess him, which is just so uniquely funny because its RITSU! ritsu who is mob's brother! ritsu who KNOWS about spirits and how dangerous they can be! ritsu who sees a green fart cloud offering to possess him in exchange for being able to bend spoons a little better and goes ALRIGHT BET and just. lets him. he just lets dimple possess him... he just lets him...

AND i also love the resolution to the big cleanup arc. like. yeah the segue into the claw arc is a little ehh and i kind of wish we'd spent more time watching ritsu jokerify himself but the scene where ritsu is so angry and yelling at mob and then mob tells ritsu that he's his little brother and he loves him? and then they hug it out? AGHHH. SO GOOD. literally the siblings of all time i fucking love big cleanup arc. holy fuck

ok and going back a bit it is just. SO INTERESTING to see how the mask unravels. suddenly ritsu isn't the kind, awed little brother who just wants to help mob, who fixes his spoons for him at the dinner table, who checks in on him at night. suddenly we see ritsu being bitter and jealous and resentful and SCARED of his brother and it's all of these conflicting feelings mixing around in his little 13 year old self of a pressure cooker and when that pressure cooker explodes... GOD. its so good. i love that. not even necessarily the reveal of "oh hes a little fucked up actually" itself but the CONTRAST of the perfect mask he wears and then the messy conflicted struggling 13 year old he actually is. like WOAG!!! HE IS SO 13!!!!!

anyway. i love big cleanup arc. thumbs up emoji

[holdmyowos]

Karma Akabane X Reader

Includes: Mentions of blood, violence, angst, minor cussing, and kidnapping. (This is Assassination Classroom, people. Literally the whole point is killing someone)

You and Karma have been friends since childhood. Playing tricks on your teachers is what led you two to being together in class 3-E. Now, you play tricks on your new  octopus teacher by trying to murder him, stabbing him whenever you can. Recently, last Valentine's Day you had confessed your love to Karma. He knows you have a crush on him, but he has not said anything and recently things have been wired between the two of you ever since you told him.

Today your class was going to go on a field trip to some far off town. You were going to take the train it was so far. Kuro-sensei had given you giant red books that he thought you would actually read through to see the sights. It was the size of an encyclopedia. There was no way.

People started getting into groups of who they would be going with for the trip. You were alone. Only recently had you gotten off probation from your last prank with Karma, so you did not really know anyone else. You had not received good enough grades in either academics or assassination to attract any new friends either.

Karma came up to you. "Hey, we need a sixth person for our group. Wanna join?" You obviously told him yes. The group went to planning all the places that they wanted to see, and the best places to assassinate Kuro-sensei.

Sadly, you had to ride in the back of the train. The students in classes A-D were in first class, while you E class people were stuck in coach. There was some really sketchy people back there, but you felt safe with your classmates, trained assassins, and an alien that could go mach 20.

Finally, you were at your destination. Kuro-sensei was with another group, so you could actually sightsee instead of only worrying about killing him. There was a ton of really cool places you went and saw, including a giant palace. After lunch, the group went walking down some of the back alleys.

"This would be a great place for ambushing someone," the green haired girl from your group said. No sooner had she said it than your classmates were trapped in a ring of people. They were the sketchy people from the train. "This little missy is a smart one. From that smart middle school, I guess that makes sense." The leader of the high school gang smirked down at your group and grabbed her, slinging her over his shoulder. She tried kicking him, but he hardly flinched. "Listen up, kids. If you let us take the pretty ones without a fight, you won't have any harm come to you. Nice and easy." What did that mean? Another two of the gang members picked you up. You were not going to be kidnapped that easily. Using the techniques you had learned about in the classroom, you easily flipped out of their grip and kicked their kneecaps. They yowled in pain. Two more of the goons came. Soon, it was an all out brawl. There was too many of them. It was pointless. Your classmates were knocked out on the ground, save you, the green haired girl, and Karma. The man holding you took off, running away from the group. "Karma!" You shouted, reaching out for him. Someone had knocked him onto the ground. You could see a large bruise on his cheek. He tried getting up to come after you, but he did not have the strength. "Don't worry. I'll come for you. I swear. We just need a plan."

You stopped kicking and screaming at the kidnapper. Karma's promise sounded so grave it had sent shivers up your spine. If he said he was going to do something, he was going to do it. You felt less worried for yourself and more worried for the people that kidnapped you. He would give them hell. You could tell that much from his voice. The green haired girl started to yell again. "Damn you little middle schoolers! How are we supposed to kill Kuro-sensei if you can't even protect your own classmates from High Schoolers?" She had a point.

The gang dumped you and the green hair (which you had learned her name was Kaede) down on the floor. You were surprised that their hideout was so close to where they had kidnapped you from. The group was too busy arguing over who got which person to actually pay attention to you and her. "Kaede. What do we do?" You whispered to her. "I'm not sure. Wait! I have something that may help!" She pulled the giant red guide book out of her backpack. You huffed at her. How would a guidebook help you? She flipped through the pages. She came to a page that she read very intently. "What is it? Did you find something?" She sighed and shook her head. You took the book.

"What to do if you become kidnapped:"

"Wait for help."

"Are you kidding me?" You throw the giant book at the leader person. It sailed through the air and hit him on the head. He fell down onto the ground. The gang members had not seen what had happened, too consumed with fighting amongst themselves. When they saw that their leader was down, they stopped fighting and tried to help him up. He was knocked out, so that did not help any. Those people must be really dumb.

Your classmates snuck in the back door. Silently, you motioned for Kaede to look that way. She saw them and nodded in understanding. Your classmates beat up the leaderless thugs by using a formation, ganging up on each person individually. Most of the kidnappers ran away. Karma was in a frenzy. You had never actually seen him attack another person before, except in second grade when someone stole your candy. And attacking Kuro-sensei. You had heard that he was really good, but you had not expected what you saw. Karma was an absolute boss in battle. The way he almost danced grace fully, ducking punches and giving them back. He was passionate, all right. When all the fighting had stopped, all the high schoolers had been knocked out. Your classmates were all good, except Karma had some blood on his knuckles.

Karma knelt down next to you. "Did they do anything to you?" His voice was laced with concern over your well-being. It kind of concerned you. He never acted this... caring. You shook your head. "Luckily, you got here just in time." Karma put his head against your chest in a hug. You hugged him back. His shoulders started shuddering. A small sound escaped from his lips, slightly smothered by your clothing. Was he laughing? You felt something wet fall against your lap. A tear. Karma Akabane was crying. "K-Karma? You're acting strange. Are you okay? Why are you crying for? I'm safe. Besides, I was the one that was kidnapped. I should be the one crying.

He clung to you tighter. "I realized how much you mean to me. Today, I was scared. I'm never scared. But I was today. Scared because I could have lost you. If you had been killed... I'd have kept jumping off that tree branch until Kuro-sensei gave up on trying to save me." The weight of his words settled on you. "Don't talk like that, Karma! You saved me, that's all that matters." You leaned more into his embrace and wipes his tears on your uniform as he snuggled against you. You had never seen him so vulnerable looking. Your classmates were still scanning for the goons, and had not seen the two of you. You kissed Karma's forehead. "Let's get up. Kuro-sensei will show up any minute. And I'm sure you don't want him or any other people to see you like this." You helped him to his feet and smiled at him. He save you a small smile back, and kissed you on the cheek. "I love you too." He backed away a bit so it would not look like the two of you were up to anything to your classmates.

Kuro-sensei came in. "You have really outdone yourselves! I came in ready to beat up some punks, but it looks like you already took care of all of them. Full marks!" Kaede stepped forward. "I would like to take credit for this, but that wouldn't be fair. Karma took most of them out actually." Kuro-sensei looked impressed, pink with a shine in his eye. "Perhaps you will be the one to kill me, after all." Karma swiped at the teacher, and Kuro-sensei easily dodged. You swiped at him too. Karma chuckled. "Just because you're impressed doesn't mean I'm letting up. In fact, I might just up my game." He took out his gun and fired a few rounds, while your classmates tried stabbing the teacher. "That's what you get for only writing 'wait for help'!" Kaede shouted. Everything was back to normal for class 3-E.

[asmileyoucouldbottle]

Pink in the Night- Catradora

Word Count: 4491

Catradora high school AU. Best friends to lovers. Adora is the ever oblivious captain of the school's football team, The Horde, and Catra is just a gay panic crushing mess who's in love with her best friend.

***

“Hey Adora.”

Adora spun around, her hand still on the towel she’d just slung around her neck.

“Catra!” She beamed, and Catra felt a little stir in her chest. Adora was decked in her football attire, exposed arms accentuating her muscle definition. Refusing to get caught staring, Catra twisted her lips into a smirk, shifting her gaze up to Adora’s eyes as a blush began to blossom.

“How was practice?” She asked, shifting her weight and placing one hand on her hip. A defensive pose. Though the only enemy is my traitorous heart. Catra thought with poetic annoyance.

“Great! Though I might have a little bruise forming from a ball Lonnie didn’t aim too well, but it’ll be fine.”

“Let me see.” Catra stepped forward, and Adora brushed her off.

“I’ll get some ice if it swells anymore.” She promised, and Catra rolled her eyes.

“Any more? ” She repeated dryly, eyes roving for a raised spot.

“Catra I swear I’m fine!” Adora’s words were exasperated, but her eyes were fond when she met her friend’s gaze. Catra felt herself begin to soften as well, and an unbidden smile rising.

A heartsick pang only Catra could feel ruptured the peace, and she leaned back against the locker beside her, faking relaxation. “If you say so.” She lifted one corner of her mouth to prove she wasn’t actually mad, and Adora moved to take off her jersey.

Catra whipped out her phone to give her somewhere else to look, but she couldn’t help but peer over the edge as Adora stripped down to her sports bra and threw on a tshirt with the lettering “Etherian Horde.” The cheesy design wasn’t flattering on anyone, so why couldn’t Catra tear her eyes away?

Face practically on fire, Catra ducked her head, hoping to at least somewhat hide her cheeks.

Catra cursed Adora for having this effect on her, scrolling aimlessly through her instagram with her thoughts only on the girl in front of her. The stupid blonde with stupid mucles and a stupid adorable smile.

Actually, Catra had to admit that her own hormones were probably partially at fault too. They were also stupid.  

“Ready to go?” Adora called her attention, helmet under one arm and gym bag in the other hand. Catra shrugged her own backpack, and reached forward to grab the water bottle from the blonde’s hands. Their fingers bumped, and Catra jerked back like shocked. After her mini gay panic attack at the lockers, physical contact was not optimal for recovery. And she was nothing if not dramatic.

“Catra? Are you okay?”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck- “Yeah of course I am, I just uh… muscle spasm.”

Adora gave her a funny look, and Catra shoved her shoulder. “Oh cut it out.” She scowled, and Adora burst out laughing.

“Muscle spasm?” She repeated in between giggles, and Catra felt her ears heating as she forced down a small giggle of her own with a frown.

“Yes! Now stop that.” Her voice bordered on whining, but Adora was merely set off again.

Groaning, Catra slid a hand down her face, peering at Adora through the space between her fingers. The slightly annoyed girl cleared her throat, and Adora gathered herself.

“If you’ve finished,” Catra started with emphasis, “want to go get a shake or something? I just got my paycheck yesterday, so I have money for the first time in two weeks.” Despite the fact that she hadn’t had spending money in two weeks, Catra didn’t regret anything. She had spent her last paycheck getting them both matching rune tattoos that read “Promise.”

To Adora it was probably some sweet nod to their promise of friendship as kids, but Catra held the vow close to her chest with an iron grip. Maybe she’d never be able to have this girl the way she dreamt of, but the word reassured her that Adora still wanted her… even if it wasn’t the same way that Catra wanted her .

No one except an obsessive linguistics nerd would be able to tell what they said, so Catra was safe from rumors as well. It was bad enough she’d had to survive them all throughout middle school, after one time a kid saw them holding hands. It hadn’t, and didn’t, stop Adora and Catra from holding each other close whenever they needed the other. With or without a crowd.

Even so, that was middle school. Middle schoolers were nasty little toes and always looking for someone to throw under the bus. Most of the highschool students were mature enough not to care, and if they were homophobic pricks, they knew not to mess with Adora. Not because she was threatening, rather, she was liked by everyone. But as the best athlete in this school, between both the boy’s and girl’s team, she practically had celebrity status.

That said, she also did have very big muscles.

Before she would do something stupid like loose all sense and stare at said muscles, Catra turned and stalked out the door, combat boots smacking the wooden floor. “Come on!” She called, and Adora hurried after her. It only took a moment for the blonde’s track shoes to line up with Catra’s own footsteps, so they were walking in sync. A smile came to Catra’s lips as she recalled memories of skipping together down the sidewalks, arm around each other’s shoulders while they struggled to match each jump exactly to the other’s.

As if on queue, Adora brought her arm to rest on Catra’s shoulder. The brunette scowled, as she did whenever Adora flexed the inches she had on Catra. Instead of shrugging it off, she saw her opportunity and jabbed her elbow, half playfully, into Adora’s side instead. Caught off guard, Adora yelped and stumbled before tripping and going heads over heels over a bench.

Catra peeped over to see her sprawled on the ground, head having landed on her backpack and feet sticking up in the air. Adora glared at her, disheveled but eyes bright. Laughing freely, Catra had to lean on the bench to support herself.

“Don’t just stand there, help me up!” Adora reached her hand up, a lock of hair hanging in front of her eyes that escaped her ponytail.

“Just give me a minute.” The sight of her messy hair unreasonably set her off again, and Catra held up a hand as she continued struggling to catch her breath.

Through her laughter, Catra hadn’t noticed the sound of footsteps before they were too late.

“Adora, what on Earth are you doing down there?”

“Shadow Weaver!” Adora sputtered and attempted to straighten, instead managing to hit her head again on the locker. “I was just uh, I tripped.”  Catra muffled another laugh with a cough.

“You tripped.” The coach repeated, disdain filling her voice as she looked over at Catra. Despite herself, Catra felt herself stand a bit taller. Eyes narrowing, she continued, “I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself just as the season is starting to peak.”

It was clear Shadow Weaver knew Catra was to blame, and also that she had no sense of jest. That, plus Catra had the strange sense that Shadow Weaver just hated her. She suspected it had something to do with the lesbian flag in her locker.

“Of course not!” Adora’s breathy response drew both of their gazes to her, and Catra took pity, snorting again. Extending a hand, she ignored her jumping heartbeat and clasped the blonde’s grip in hers. She had a nice view of Adora flexing her arm to pull herself up, and despite struggling with the physical contact, Catra couldn’t complain.

Shadow Weaver glowered at Catra as if she could read her thoughts. It was all she could do not to stick her tongue out at the Head Coach.

“We’re going to be on our way.” Not relinquishing her hold on Adora’s hand, Catra pulled the football player behind her and away.

“Bye Shadow Weaver!” Adora managed to call before Catra made a sharp turn out of her sight.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Adora hissed, “Catra, what was that all about?”

“She was rubbing me the wrong way.” Catra huffed, continuing to march on.

“You were rubbed the wrong way? I was literally on my back the entire conversation!” Adora exclaimed, and Catra cackled.

“Oh how I wish I got a picture.” She paused to laugh, “and then when Shadow Weaver came and I didn’t help you up you should have seen your face. It was all like “ah no! Betrayal. ” Catra lifted her free hand up and dramatically twisted her face.

Adora sighed, her face melting from annoyance to a bemused smile at Catra’s reenactment. Her curved lips kicked off something in Catra’s chest, and she thought she would do anything to keep Adora smiling.

This time Adora tugged her hand as she continued her walk, and Catra looked down at their pressed palms with slight shock. She’d forgotten about taking Adora’s hand, they had fit together so naturally. Now it came rushing back, and she was frozen with not knowing if she should tear it away or let it be.

Settling for not doing anything and letting Adora take the lead, Catra knew she looked like an overenthusiastic kindergartener had taken a red stamp to her face. That is to say, a red flustered mess.  

Taking an extra large step, Catra came up along Adora’s side. Adora fished around in her pocket for a moment, before retrieving her phone. Before Catra realized what she was doing, Adora had angled the camera at their joined hands and snapped a picture.

Ripping her hand away, Catra jumped back, cheeks burning. “What are you doing?!” She spat, and Adora looked at her with slight reproach, though if Catra wasn’t mistaking, she looked a bit flustered herself.

“I was trying to take a picture of our tattoos!” She stuttered out. Catra felt a pang of guilt. I must’ve freaked her out. Again.

“Well we don’t need to be holding hands to do it.” She grumbled, secretly wondering how she could get that picture. Hand feeling cold suddenly, she shoved them both in her pocket with a glower at the traitorous limb.

Catra looked up at Adora, an awkward silence stretching. Adora’s ears were pink as she looked at her phone, and Catra tapped her shoulder.“Sorry, I just…” There were a million ways to finish the sentence, but none that wouldn’t make this any more awkward. Opting to leave it open ended, Catra didn’t finish, instead stepping forward to push open the door with her shoulder.

“Ummm… did I tell you about how Kyle let the frogs loose in the science lab yesterday?”

The momentary tension dissipated as Catra continued her story, animated with grand gestures and facial expressions. She warmed as Adora laughed, the late afternoon sun making her face glow.

***

Catra kicked open the door of Mystacor Cafe, and made her way to their typical table in the window.

“Adora,” Catra turned her head, and frowned when her blonde wasn’t beside her.

“Adora?” She turned completely around, and wasn’t entirely surprised to see the athlete exchanging high fives and greetings with groups at other tables as she passed.

Glimmer waved in her direction. “Adora! I saw the pictures you sent me, I take it Operation Get the Cat-” Her face went stricken when she caught Catra’s eye, and the rest of the sentence was finished also as a mumble, “is going well.”

Completely confused, Catra looked over to see Adora glaring at Glimmer, cheeks flaming red. She was refusing to look back at Catra.

Operation get the Cat?

Adora still wouldn’t look at her, and went back to talking to the cheerleaders, who were beginning to look a little too flirty for comfort. Trying to shake off any tangles of jealousy, Catra sighed, dropping her bag as she slid into her chair. Propping her feet up on the table, she considered the rips in her jeans, deciding that they would look even better with another a little further up her thigh.

Tilting her head, Catra studied Adora. She would look good with a few rips in the sleeves of her jacket… just to spice things up.

“Hey, Brain-Damaged!” Adora turned her head, and Catra burst out in laughter, almost falling out of her chair.

“Did you actually  just respond to ‘brain-damaged?” Catra wheezed. The group of cheerleaders who Adora had been talking with looked over at her with curiosity, and Adora crossed her arms, pink tinging her cheeks. “Well, you were talking to me weren’t you?”

“Yes, but still. ” Catra hopped up onto the table as Adora rolled her eyes. “It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve called me that.” She grumbled, and the brunette smirked.

“I think it suits you.” She announced, her voice taking on a teasing lilt. Adora seemed to be seriously considering marching over and pushing her off the table. Both to aggravate her further, and make sure Adora couldn’t literally shove her over, Catra stretched out so she was lying on her stomach. Head propped in her elbows and feet kicking, she concluded “along with idiot” with a wink.

“HEY CATRA!”

Catra started, making a noise akin to a hiss.

“GET OFF THE TABLES!” Glimmer called from behind the counter, where she was working.

“Oh, can it Sparkles!” Hopping off the table, Catra turned to acknowledge her friend with a stuck out tongue. She returned it before turning back to the coffee machine.

“Are you done tormenting Glimmer?” Adora sat down across from her, and Catra looked up at her. Bits of hair were falling out of her ponytail and sticking to her forehead, and there were a halo of flyaways. It looked damnably attractive.

“I wasn’t tormenting her.” Catra emphasized. “Actually, I was trying to bother you. She just had to spoil my fun.”

“I think she was more concerned about doing her job than ‘spoiling your fun.’”

“Whatever. By the way, I was thinking about customizing your sports jacket…”

Adora gave her a wary look, ““What exactly did you have in mind?”  In response, Catra held up her long black painted nails with a wicked grin.

“Absolutely not.”

“ Ughh fine, you’re so boring.” She squinted, tilting her head. “It would look good with two little rips on each arm…” Leaning forward suddenly, she was about to slice, but Adora grabbed her wrist.

“ Catra.”  Adora looked down at her sternly. “We are not ripping up my team jacket.”

Catra held her gaze defiantly for a few moments, and there was a shift in the air between them. She couldn’t say what it was, but suddenly she wasn’t looking at Adora’s eyes, but rather…  in them. Her heart fluttered and her wrist went weak. The moment stretched, and they were only inches apart…

Adora blinked, and the spell was broken. She dropped Catra’s wrist in a rush, her eyes darting away as color bloomed across her cheeks. Catra felt her mouth fall open slightly in shock, though she didn’t know if it was belated shock from the moment or the fact that it had ended. Blood rushed to her cheeks as sat back, still in temporary mental paralysis.

Adora had just looked into her eyes, and then blushed.

But… she had also pulled away.

The mixed signals made Catra want to scream, but was there a possibility?

Adora stood up suddenly and gestured with her arm, turning her face away. “Come on, let’s go order.”

They went to the counter, ordering their usual milkshakes, chocolate for Catra and strawberry for Adora. Mere seconds after they’d sat down, Catra reached over and snatched Adora’s shake, holding it out of her reach as she “taste tested.”

Catra held it up and behind her head, leaning as far back as she dared while Adora reached over the table. “You- you pest!” Adora shrieked, and Catra laughed two times harder.

“ Pest?” She repeated, teasingly mocking. “Who says pest?!”

“Glimmer said it yesterday.” Adora huffed, continuing to reach.

“Actually, that is a very Glimmer thing to say, but not something I’d expect you to repeat.”

In a last ditch effort, Adora jumped out of her seat and lunged. Catra’s chair tipped back, and suddenly she was falling as the blonde reached forward to try and stop it.

It was like slow motion. Adora, moving in an attempt to stop Catra from tipped completely backward, stepped forward and onto a forgotten gatorade. The bottle rolled and her foot slipped out from under her, and then she was going down as well. Falling forward towards Catra while she backwards, Adora threw out her arms to stop herself from face planting into the other girl. Catra landed on her back with a shock, but whatever breath was left in her body left her lungs when she opened her eyes to see Adora’s face millimeters from her own.

A deep blush spread across Adora’s face, starting at her nose and working its way until the entirety of her cheeks and forehead were reminiscent of a cherry.

Neither of them made a move, and Catra’s heartbeat was beating so erratically she was certain she was seconds from a heart attack.

That would be a fun gravestone. “Cause of death: Gay panic induced heart failure.”

Her eyes traced Adora’s eyelashes, dark and full despite her blonde hair. The grey-blue of her eyes locked into hers, and Catra inhaled sharply.

Was there a heterosexual explanation for the way she was looking at her?

Blood rushing through her head, Catra froze as Adora’s face moved minimally closer to hers, lips tingling with anticipation, and thoughts whirring into white noise-

“Hey! Catra, Adora!”

Like a shaken soda pop, Catra jolted backwards, and Adora stood up so fast it seemed impossible. Breathing heavily, Catra tried to make up for the lack of oxygen intake from the last, what- minute? Five minutes? Ten? How long had Adora been there, face in front of hers, inching closer….

“Uh…. sorry.” Adora gave her a hand, and Catra pulled herself up. They were inches away again, and the brunette took a jittery step back. Her hand tingled from the contact, and she shoved them in her pockets, unable to look Adora in the eye.

Bow was looking between them, an unreadable look on his face.

“We fell.” Adora explained, breathless. Catra sneaked a look at her, and saw the pink was refusing to fade.

The possibility that Adora could ever like her back seemed so absurd mere week ago, even an hour, but now… Catra didn’t know.

Ridiculous.

But… was it?

Overwhelmed with thoughts and shaky nerves, she crouched to pick up the strawberry smoothie. It’s contents were all over the floor, and Catra was about to stand up again to get napkins when Adora crouched down.

“I’ve got it.” She started to clean up, paper napkins in hand. Their shoulders were touching, the blonde’s ponytail brushing her cheek.

“Uh, thanks.” Adora turned to Catra, and once again their faces were far too close.

Knees weak, Catra stood up and stumbled into her seat. Bow had turned it upright, and he was now leaning against the table.

“Sooooo…” He looked at her again, one eyebrow raised. Catra gave him a glare, and he raised his hands.

“So.” Adora plopped in her chair, her cheeks still stained slightly pink. Catra thought of the pink contents of the strawberry milkshake spilled on the floor, and Adora’s eyes meeting her own…

It was all too much to take in.

“I just remembered I have… uh… extra, er, calc homework. But I will catch up with you later!” Not even waiting to see their reactions, Catra slung her backpack over her shoulder and tried not to run out the door.

***

Scaling the tree alongside the house with ease, Catra came level with the second floor window and knocked.

She didn’t even have to wait a full two seconds before the curtain was pushed aside. Adora was wearing a black tank top and sweatpants, her hair up in it’s classic ponytail, though it was messy, as if she hadn’t bothered to redo it since this morning. Catra tried to ignore how the tips of her ears felt slightly warmer.

The window opened with barely any complaint, and Adora poked her head out. “What’s up?”

“I’m heading up to the roof if you want to join me.” Catra let go of the branch with one hand, so she was leaning out precariously.

“Show-off.” Adora mumbled, and Catra winked. The blond’s gaze immediately flicked away, and Catra felt a little jump in her chest. Adora turned to grab a blanket before starting to crawl out of the window with some difficulty, despite having done this regularly since they were kids. Catra leapt up the branches until the top of the house, where she transferred to the roof with ease. Adora came in her own time, and settled beside the brunette, shoulders touching as their legs dangled over the edge. The sun had just set, and a hazy dusk was settling over the town as they looked out.

They didn’t speak for a while, just sat with each other. For years they’d been doing this, and they had gotten to the point where silence spoke just as much as words.

But now, the silence was charged, and Catra’s mind was full. Full of Adora. The girl beside her, who had always been beside her. She who had bangaded scraped knees, laughed off mean spirited teasing, taught her how to ride a bike, sat with her when no one else would… all the way up until their relationship now. The person who was always there for her, whether it was to do something small like make fun of Shadow Weaver’s pretentious dresses, or provide a place to stay when her parent’s fighting got too loud.

Fueled by these emotions, Catra moved her hand to settle on top of Adora’s.

Adora started. Catra kept her hand there, frozen as she waited for Adora to make a move, waiting for rejection. Though the action itself was miniscule, Catra could feel how everything shifted.

Her hesitation was brief, but the time it took almost killed Catra. Instead of moving away, she flipped her own hand palm up and intertwined their fingers.

She felt a flutter as her breath caught. Feeling almost above her body, Catra turned to look at Adora. A moment later, the blonde turned her face as well.

The space between them was practically nothing, and the rest of the twilight fell away as she caught Adora’s eyes. There was something there, a wanting, as they searched Catra’s own.

Adora leaned forward, and Catra did the same.

The twilight fell away, as did her stomach. The kiss was tentative, and lasted only a moment, as if they were both uncertain. When they met each other’s eyes again, Catra moved back the tiniest amount.

“Do you really want this?” She asked, her heart and voice trembling with anxiety. This was the chance for Adora to back out and pretend it hadn’t happened, or admit that it was spur of the moment and unwarranted. She could end all of this with a single word. Dread slithered through Catra, but she remained firm. She wouldn’t take advantage of this if it wasn’t okay with both of them.

Adora took both of Catra’s hands in hers, and gave her a wide smile, one that sent Catra’s stomach whooshing and her heart floating. “Absolutely.”

Catra beamed back, full of light. This time, there was no hesitation.  She brought her lips to meet Adora’s again, and put all that she had, years of yearning and wishing, into it. Though her emotions hit her with all the power of a comet, the kiss was tender. Sweet. Loving.

When they parted, Adora grinned, looking practically starstruck.

“Wow.” Her voice had taken on this sort of… dorky… quality, and Catra couldn’t help but giggle.

“You dummy.” She rested her forehead against Adora’s. “I love you.”

The words, spoken with sudden bravery, seemed maybe a little too heavy for someone who she had only kissed twice. Or was it once? Did it count as two?

Either way, Catra knew it was true. She’d known it was true for years, but she had no idea if they would ruin this beautiful thing they’d just created. So she tensed, waiting for the fall.

“You love me?” Adora repeated with slight disbelief, but not repulsed.

Catra laughed lightly. “You are such an idiot.”

“I love you too.” Catra turned to look up at Adora, her turn to be shocked. After the kissing, she was expecting her to like her at least, maybe a lot, but…

Love?

Adora’s eyes said it all, and feeling close to bursting, Catra responded by closing the gap once more.

With the knowledge that this actually meant something, it was even better. Catra brought her other hand around Adora’s waist, and they leaned into each other fully. A warm feeling spread throughout her, and Catra thought about how long she’d wanted this. To love Adora, and be loved back.

Adora leaned forward a little more, and every thought left her head besides Adora’s lips.

It was messy and warm, just like the two of them. Darkness was coming in on them rapidly, but Catra never wanted to leave this roof. Not if it meant she got to have Adora.

Breaking apart, Catra remembered that Adora was wearing a tank top, and she wasn’t too warm either with her fishnet sleeves. With slight disappointment, she reached over and grabbed the blanket that Adora had carried up. Adora took one side, and threw her arm over Catra’s shoulder, bringing her in close. Catra tucked herself into Adora’s side, contentment washing over her.

The sky was a shade of blue that couldn’t be described as light nor dark. It was dusky, and Catra noticed the first star. Nudging Adora slightly, she pointed. “Look.”

There was a moment of silence, before Adora asked, “What did you wish for?”

Since they were kids, they’d always come up here to watch for the first star and make wishes. And of course they’d always share their wish with each other, because the “bestest of friends” bypassed the rule about your wish not coming true. Instead, they had declared, if we told each other, the wish would be twice as strong. Because if Catra wanted something, Adora wanted her to have it, and visa versa.

Catra didn’t have to think too hard before finding a simple truth. “More nights like this.” She decided, looking up at Adora.

Her face melted into another smile. “Wish granted.” She declared, resting her head on top of Catra’s.

“What about you?”

Adora considered. “I actually think I have everything I want right now.”

“You sap.” Catra whined, but her words had no effect once she started kissing Adora again.

[okay-victoria]

Writing Dialogue

While some choices in dialogue will come down to style preference, most fanfic dialogue suffers from a much earlier problem of being done incorrectly, no matter what the stylistic preference. Once basic spelling & grammar is mastered, and assuming the fic contains more than a handful of dialogue, I think bad dialogue is the thing that kills my enjoyment the fastest. I can handwave plotholes and understand emotions that weren’t conveyed right, but I can’t read people having a conversation that doesn’t look anything like an actual human conversation.

Problem 1: Too Much Drama

We want our scenes to pulse with energy! Of course we want the dialogue to be dramatic! The problem here is, what makes for good dramatic dialogue is not people yelling powerful words at each other very passionately. What makes for dramatic dialogue is mostly the importance of that scene to the plot & the characters, so to achieve dramatic dialogue, the best thing you can do is not overly rely on the dialogue itself to be dramatic. Set up a dramatic situation, and then people don’t have to yell. They can say a few basic sentences and the audience already knows why it is important and why the characters care so much.

Have you ever seen the scene in The Room where Tommy Wiseau yells “You’re tearing me apart, Lisa!” Did you actually find that dramatic or did it just make you laugh because it was overdramatized? That’s what dramatic dialogue does to a story. Unless your characters are middle schoolers exclaiming it out in the hall between classes, chances are, older and more mature characters aren’t going to do a lot of yelling or make weirdly dramatic statements like the world is ending.

One of the biggest offenses on this count is overusing exclamation points and overusing emphasis. Exclamation points should be used very, very rarely, as should telling your reader what words are meant to be emphasized. Your character’s mood should primarily come through action - are they slamming doors, pacing back and forth, collapsing into a chair? Dialogue tags like “shouted” or “replied angrily” can be used to help, but should not stand on their own as the only thing portraying mood.

Instead of looking like this: “OMG! Can you believe it! Drama! Let me scream all the drama out in a monologue!” Lisa screamed, it should look like *Lisa kicks off her shoes, one leaves a mark on the wall* *Lisa slams bag down on counter, opens fridge for beer* *Lisa’s boyfriend stands frozen, as this is not normally how Lisa comes home from work. “This thing happened.” *Lisa collapses into kitchen chair and sticks head in her hands.* *Lisa’s boyfriend comes to put a hand on her back*. “One sentence reminding reader why Lisa is upset about this”.

Problem 2: Too Little Drama

Alternatively, you get scenes that sometimes look like two college roommates got high and are trying to acquire a pizza with as little effort as possible. Let’s say, for example, you have one character that has a crush on another character, and they are trying to find out information about them. While maybe the character learning this information is going to do something with it, so it’s important to the plot in another way, so the conversation itself does not need to be dramatic, it might end up looking like this:

I met Crush after class and we walked together. “What’s your favorite color?” - “Red” - “Do you like dogs?” - “Yes. Did you do the homework?” - “Yes. Math is my favorite class. How about you?” - “P.E.”

Like with the above, setup and action are everything. If you set up the scene where we know in advance how long it has taken Karen to get up the courage to talk to Chad and things like that, and then include actions in between the dialogue to show that she is nervous and therefore not very talkative, like her glancing up at him briefly but looking away as soon as he makes eye contact, or have her analyze Chad’s mood and wonder if he’s annoyed, etc, the scene can be made much more meaningful without needing to be a “dramatic” scene.

Problem 3: Dialogue is written like exposition

This tends to go unnoticed by some authors who are otherwise decent, and for me really ruins an otherwise decent story. The writing within the dialogue tags is written well, it just isn’t written like dialogue. It is written like exposition/narration.

In exposition: This project was doomed from the beginning. The improvements might look nice on paper, but the law of diminishing returns was going to stop it before it really started. Sounds...not excellent, I just pulled an example out of my ass, but fine.

In dialogue: “I think this project is doomed already,” Bob said, looking around the meeting room. “The improvements might look nice on paper, but the law of diminishing returns is going to stop it before it really starts.”

...sounds like Bob is kind of a psycho, or possibly your most pompous and hated coworker. Who the hell says “Law of Diminishing Returns” out loud if they aren’t a professor? The longer the dialogue and more flowery/technical/big vocab it becomes, which often *adds* to exposition, the worse and more unnatural the dialogue becomes.

Dialogue should not feel the same as the “speech” when a character is thinking. We tend to be fairly limited in how we express ourselves, use shorter and more simple sentence structures, more basic vocabulary, and haven’t memorized what we are going to say, so it doesn’t come out eloquently.

The one real exception to this that isn’t really dialogue, but is speech, is if you have a character making a speech or presentation, which they have prepared for in advance, and it is reasonable for them to give it uninterrupted.

If you want to make a point of one of your characters sounding like a total tool when they speak, you can also do this to achieve that and make it immediately clear to the audience why everyone hates them, but unless that’s what you’re going for, avoid this at all costs.

Problem 4: Dialogue is otherwise unnatural

Always, always, until you’re pretty damn sure you’re pretty damn good at it, say your dialogue out loud.

Would that personally really say “What is that?” or is it “What’s that?” Along the lines of not needing to use emphasis as much as you might think, if you were, say, in Scotland and just saw the Loch Ness monster pop out and want to ask your companion what it is, “What is that?” is fairly unnecessary. “What is that?” suffices. The simple fact that you didn’t use the standard contraction means the character emphasized the “is”. If you just see a piece of mail on someone’s desk that you are curious about, you’re going to say “What’s that?” and it won’t sound like you are dramatically asking about a generic piece of mail.

There are lots of very minor and small things that can easily go wrong in dialogue of this nature. It’s really important to say to yourself: if I was in this situation, how would I say it? Read it like you are acting it out in a movie and see. Also, question if a person would even say a sentence like that to begin with, or if they would be more or less direct in their approach. More direct is appropriate in many cases because people are usually trying to communicate clearly. Even if they are lying, they usually just say a direct statement that is a lie, they don’t dance around it indirectly and give hints to the other character. More indirect is appropriate when a character is trying to have a difficult conversation - we don’t tend to give tough advice or be directly rude, we try to work around it to make it sound better.

Because people want to have “exciting” or “cool” dialogue, they will often also give characters great rebuttals all the time, where they have these snappy conversations. This *can* work, but it’s really hard to pull off well, so in general I’d limit it to having a character having the occasional good rebuttal than a conversation of back-and-forth snark. Honestly, most of us just can’t think on our feet that well, and unless you’ve built the case that these characters can [ie, they’ve been married 20 years and are having the same arguments over and over so have it all thought out] it just seems very unrealistic.

Problem 5: Underutilizing dialogue tags

If you have two characters speaking, theoretically, if we know who the first speaker is and they switch off, a reader can follow the conversation indefinitely and know who is speaking.

In practice, that doesn’t happen. We like to be occasionally reminded. Personally, I try to max out at four consecutive lines of untagged speech, so no more than:

“Hey” said Kyle when he saw Brad.

“Hey.”

“What are you doing tonight?”

“Partying, bro, what did you think?”

“Haha, true. Do you think Lindsey will be there?”

“Man, you have such a crush on her,” Brad laughed.

Problem 6: Overusing dialogue tags

Conversely, in a conversation that is easy to follow, every single line does not need to be followed by a variation of “X person said”. If you are going for a tight back and forth conversation where neither character is thinking in between, you want to gum it up as little as possible with extraneous non-conversation. Hit us with occasional dialogue tags, and that’s it.

Problem 7: Not breaking dialogue up

This is somewhat of a style question, but in general, conversations should only be quick back and forth when that’s the point, but otherwise should generally pause briefly to “show” people doing actions, give some character thoughts, or otherwise break it up so the entire scene isn’t just a conversation.

Also, you can use these pauses as a way of showing hesitation/actual pauses that happen in the conversation.

Problem 8: Huge breaks between dialogue

This is something I am probably the *most* guilty of myself, because I’m writing a story where characters analyze the other characters a lot, so sometimes they’ll pause and think for a while in between. I haven’t quite arrived at the level where I’ve figured out how to get that all to flow in a way that breaks the dialogue up nicely, but not so much it is jarring and you’ve forgotten what the last thing a character said was.

But, anyway, definitely something to keep in mind. While a scene shouldn’t usually be all conversation, breaking the conversation up too much makes it feel like it isn’t a conversation at all.

[hopeisour4letteredword]

innocent bones ch2

Summary: Apollo gets a wake-up call in a few ways. It’s okay, though--he’s got best-friend backup.

Link to AO3 in the notes.

“Goood morning, sunshine!”

“Blrgh,” Apollo says, more to his pillow than Clay. He rolls over and pulls the blankets over his head.

“Oh, are we grouchy this morning? I can drink both of these by myself if you wanna be left alone.”

Apollo peeks out from the covers warily. Clay dangles an iced drink in a plastic café cup tantalizingly over the bed. The morning is already hot, and only promises to get hotter; Apollo knows by the time he has proper clothes on, he’ll want something cold and sweet. He sighs and kicks the sheets aside, stretching.

“Why are you in my apartment?”

“Why were you sleeping with one sock on?”

Apollo looks down. Sure enough, he still has on the sock he’d yanked on at three in the morning. “...Fuck me.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Clay says, batting his eyelashes, then cackles as Apollo swings a pillow at him and chases him around the room. When they reach the kitchenette, Clay successfully diverts his attention to a small paper bag of baked goods. Apollo allows him to exchange the pillow for a chocolate croissant. “To answer your question, I’m here to chill with my best friend on my day off, like we’ve been planning for, oh, the last three weeks?”

Shit. That’s right. Apollo scrubs the crust of sleep from his eyes, shoulders slumping. “Sorry. I remember now.”

Clay smiles easily and slides him the drink. Apollo sips. Peachy oolong tea with lemonade. “No harm, no foul. Seriously, though. Why the sock?”

“I had the most surreal fucking night,” Apollo says, and tells him about it. Clay starts laughing uproariously as soon as he mentions the teeth. He doesn’t stop until Apollo concludes with Prosecutor Debeste’s intervention.

“Oh, man,” Clay chuckles, wiping at the corners of his eyes. “How does this shit happen to you?”

“If I knew, don’t you think I would try to stop it?”

“I don’t know, would you?” Clay smirks maddeningly and bites into his muffin. Through a mouthful of crumbs, he drawls, “I’m sure you suffered so much with a handsome man vying for your attention.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, you disgusting goblin.”

“Ach, Herr Forehead,” Clay says, in the worst fake German accent Apollo has ever heard. “When I’m sad and lonely, you’re the first one I think of to cheer me up. Oh, how I wish you were here with me—“

Apollo seizes the pillow again. Clay rushes to get a grip on it before he can take a swing. They struggle for control until they both tip out of their chairs and go crashing to the hard, unforgiving linoleum floor in a heap.

“Ow,” Clay says. “Huh. I’ve had more exciting tumbles.”

“And Mr. Starbuck trusts you to pilot a rocket with him,” Apollo scoffs, feeling a bit ow himself.

“Please, I’m much nicer to Mr. Starbuck than I am to you, I don’t have to worry about fighting with him.”

They attempt to sit up. Clay somehow maneuvers their tangled limbs apart without injury to either of them. Apollo moves to stand, but Clay slings his legs across Apollo’s own before he can go anywhere.

“Hey,” Clay says, low and serious. “For real. You okay? You didn’t have any new nightmares because of all that, did you?”

Apollo winces. “...No.”

“What was that face for?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re an awful liar and you know it.” Clay frowns, concern creasing his brow. “You can tell me anything. You know that, right? You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. But I’m here for you, dude.”

“I know, space cadet. Calm down.”

“Alright, alright.”

Clay moves his legs out of the way. It’s Apollo’s turn to interrupt him before he can rise by dropping his head onto Clay’s shoulder.

“Worse than a nightmare,” he mutters.

“What? What’s worse than a nightma—oh, my God,” Clay gasps. “You had a sex dream?!”

“WH—NO!”

“MY BABY BOY IS GROWING UP!”

“I DID NOT HAVE A SEX DREAM!”

Apollo tries to smack him. Clay catches his hand and wrestles him into a headlock.

“The most important thing to remember is that this is a normal part of puberty,” Clay says, solemnly, even as Apollo shrieks with dismay. “Every growing boy—“

“I WILL KICK YOUR ASS.”

“Like you could? Alright, sunshine, let’s hear it. What’s worse than a nightmare, aside from a sex dream?”

“I don’t want to tell you anymore,” Apollo says, sulkily, voice muffled by Clay’s arm.

“Come on, don’t be like that.” Clay pats his head with his free hand. Apollo grumbles some more. “Is it really that embarrassing?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, then it’s about feelings.”

“Wh—how did you—I mean, what makes you think that?!” Real smooth, Justice. Apollo can feel the hot flush of mortification on his face.

“Honestly, dumbass, how long have we been friends? You think I don’t know how your brain works as well as you know mine?”

“That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Yeah, you’re busy saving all your affection for Klav—ow! Don’t hit me!”

“Shut up! God.”

“You know you get to have a crush, right? That’s normal and okay.”

“I don’t want to have a crush,” Apollo moans, hopelessly. Clay finally releases him from the headlock so he takes the opportunity to bury his face in his hands. He hates catching feelings. He always blows it somehow. It doesn’t help that they never have these conversations anywhere less weird than the kitchen floor. “He’s my colleague. I need to be professional. Our working relationship is too important for me to fuck this up.”

“He got lonely while he was high on painkillers and called you at three AM and you’re still going on about professionalism?”

“It sounds stupid when you say it like that.”

“That’s because it is stupid.”

“Your face is stupid.”

“I’m serious, man. Like, if you wanted concrete evidence that he considers you a friend outside of your working relationship, it just got handed to you on a silver platter. There’s no way you’re the first friend he’s ever had that’s been a little into him.”

“...I guess that’s true.”

“Who knows? Maybe he’s a little into you too.”

Apollo gives him an incredulous look.

“It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to happen to you in the last year, that’s all I’m saying! And he has an awful lot of nice things to say about you for a courtroom rival.”

“We’re not rivals,” Apollo says, mostly on automatic. Clay ruffles his hair as they clamber to their feet.

“Sure, sure. Hey, speaking of things he has to say, has he said anything to you this morning?”

“How should I know? Somebody bullied me out of bed and I left my phone behind.”

“I’ll go get it, you eat breakfast.”

Apollo finishes his croissant. After a moment, Clay tosses his phone at him.

“Do I really have to check it right now?”

“If you’re gonna be such a big baby about it, I can check it for you.”

“Ugh. No, fine, I’ll look.”

Klavier Gavin, 9:04am

hey, i just wanted to apologize for last night. i hope i didn’t scare you too badly. i remember you saying i owed you one, so let me know if you come up with a way i can apologize.

Apollo lets out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Clay makes a questioning sound and a grabby hand gesture. Apollo passes his phone over, obligingly, and steals a chunk of Clay’s muffin while he reads it for himself.

“Totally normal,” Clay says. “See? It’s fine. You’re fine.”

“I’m fine,” Apollo echoes. He takes his phone back and sips absentmindedly at his iced tea as he types.

Apollo Justice, 10:38am

I’m going to change your contact name to “Teeth Theft Victim.”

How’s your mouth this morning?

Klavier Gavin, 10:39am

HF no :(

not the worst. definitely not as bad as it was last night!

i had some painkillers when i got up. mostly just feels a little weird rn

Apollo Justice, 10:41am

That sounds about right.

Klavier Gavin, 10:42am

did you get back to sleep okay?

Apollo Justice, 10:43am

Yeah, I’m fine.

Klavier Gavin, 10:43am

you’re always fine, HF ;P

Apollo Justice, 10:44am

I bet you think you’re clever.

I got plenty of sleep. Don’t worry.

Klavier Gavin, 10:45am

i am sincerely sorry though. seriously, let me know if i can make it up to you somehow

“Do I actually seem angry?” Apollo asks Clay, mystified. Clay peers over his shoulder at the message thread. “He didn’t really do anything wrong, considering his mental state at the time. I’m not trying to be brusque with him.”

“Tell him to take you out for coffee,” Clay says.

“What? Why? Where did that come from?”

Apollo Justice, 10:47am

All you have to do is not call me at 3AM saying ominous things without context again.

I know this is a terribly high bar to meet, but I have faith that you’ll rise to the occasion.

Klavier Gavin, 10:48am

you really thought i was actively dying, didn’t you?

were you actually on your way out the door?

Apollo Justice, 10:49am

I thought you had gotten roofied. Of course I was on my way out the door.

Klavier Gavin, 10:50am

my knight in shining armor ;)

“TELL HIM TO TAKE YOU OUT FOR COFFEE,” Clay yells, aggressively shaking Apollo by the shoulder. Apollo yelps and almost drops his phone.

“He’s always like this! It doesn’t mean anything!”

“I WILL DO IT MYSELF.”

“Do what yourself?! Take him out for coffee?! Fine! I hope you’re very happy together!”

“God, and you mean it, too. You’re hopeless, AJ. No game at all. Give me your phone.”

“NO!”

Apollo Justice, 10:52am

awerrttrtrtFSDFFG

Klavier Gavin, 10:52am

?? HF??

Apollo Justice, 10:53am

BRB

Have tio kickmny friendsd ass

Apollo does not kick Clay’s ass, because Clay has fifty pounds of muscle on him and Apollo hasn’t gotten in a real fight since he was a middle schooler, but he damn well tries. It’s the effort that counts. Maybe. Hopefully.

Apollo Justice, 11:12am

COFFREERE

Klavier Gavin, 11:14am

??????

Apollo Justice, 11:15am

TAKE HIM OUT TO COFFEE

Klavier Gavin, 11:16am

who am i speaking to??

Apollo Justice, 11:17am

DONT QWORRT ABT UT

Klavier Gavin, 11:18am

i’m a little worried about it

is Herr Justice okay??

Apollo Justice, 11:18am

YEA HES FINE

IM BULLYING HIMN

Klavier Gavin, 11:20am

that doesn’t sound very fine

Apollo Justice, 11:21am

I am so fucking sorry.

Klavier Gavin, 11:21am

are you alright?

Apollo Justice, 11:23am

I’m fine.

I’m with a friend right now and he decided to be obnoxious.

Klavier Gavin, 11:24am

by which i suppose you

mean he stole your phone

Klavier Gavin, 11:25am

That and putting me in a headlock.

Klavier Gavin, 11:25am

:(

Apollo Justice, 11:26am

I’m fine, honestly. We roughhouse all the time.

It’s mostly my pride that hurts.

“Bet you ten bucks he offers to kiss it better,” Clay says, slurping obnoxiously at the dregs of his iced tea. As winner’s spoils, he has retained eavesdropping privileges. Textdropping? Wiretapping? Fuck it, Apollo doesn’t know.

“He will not,” Apollo says, through gritted teeth, valiantly attempting to suppress the red-hot surge of embarrassment to his cheeks.

Klavier Gavin, 11:28am

well then, we all know you’ll survive that one :P

Apollo Justice, 11:30am

Ouch. Rub more salt in the wound, why don’t you?

“You owe me ten bucks,” Apollo announces.

“You motherfucker, you didn’t even take the bet!”

“It was implied! You would have made me give you ten dollars.”

Clay grudgingly pulls out his wallet and gives Apollo a five, three ones, and a fistful of change. He hands it over way too fast to have figured out how much the change is worth, but then Clay is actually good at numbers shit, so maybe he did. Anyway, Apollo cares more about the principle of the exchange than receiving exactly ten dollars.

Klavier Gavin, 11:31am

i prefer to think of it as a salve to help you heal faster

Apollo Justice, 11:32am

By making fun of me?

Klavier Gavin, 11:33am

by reminding u that u can pull through these hard times!

Apollo Justice, 11:34am

Sure.

Klavier Gavin, 11:35am

but hey, for real. do you want to go out for coffee sometime?

“YES,” Clay hollers, victoriously. Apollo wants to curl up under the table and die of mortification.

“I can’t believe you. He thinks he has to do this because I got inconvenienced last night. This is stupid, Clay, why would you do this to us?”

“Because,” Clay says, “He flirts with you, constantly, and you’re who he calls at three AM when he’s in pain and he wants to talk to someone to distract him, and you have a crush that can be seen from space. It’s my job as your best friend.”

“It’s really not.”

“Uh-huh. Tell the nice man you’ll go out for coffee with him.”

Apollo Justice, 11:39am

You really don’t have to take me out just because of what happened last night.

Clay was being absurd.

Klavier Gavin, 11:41am

okay, sure, i understand

but do you WANT to?

Apollo Justice, 11:42am

I mean. Yeah.

If you’re sure.

Klavier Gavin, 11:43am

i’m positive :)

Apollo Justice, 11:44am

Then coffee would be cool.

“Cool,” Clay echoes. “God, AJ, you’re a mess. I love you so much. Cool, he says, when the actual rockstar asks him out on a date.”

“You bullied the rockstar into asking me on a date,” Apollo snaps, red-faced.

“I didn’t do a damn thing to him except offer a suggestion. He didn’t get put in a headlock.”

Klavier Gavin, 11:45am

Großartig! i have a meeting tomorrow afternoon, but perhaps tuesday?

Apollo Justice, 11:46am

Tuesday is fine.

What time? Where are we going?

Klavier Gavin, 11:48am

let’s say 3pm? and it’s a surprise ;)

Apollo Justice, 11:49am

I won’t be footing the bill if you drag me out to some weird, fancy upscale tea bar.

Klavier Gavin, 11:50am

nein, don’t be ridiculous. it’s my treat

“Ooh, what a gentleman!”

“Can’t you stop reading over my shoulder and let me set this up in peace now?!”

“No, I just scored you a date and you elbowed me very hard in the stomach earlier. I earned this.”

Apollo Justice, 11:52am

Does that mean it IS a weird, fancy upscale tea bar?

Klavier Gavin, 11:53am

actually it means i haven’t decided yet

Apollo Justice, 11:54am

Ah. Foolish me, then.

How am I supposed to get there if it’s a surprise?

Klavier Gavin, 11:55am

oh, you can just meet me at my office and i’ll drive us there

...unless you’re still afraid of my motorcycle? :P

Apollo Justice, 11:58am

I’m not afraid.

But you better have a second helmet.

Klavier Gavin, 12:00pm

don’t i always, Schatz?

“You go on his motorcycle?” Clay says, outraged and oblivious while Apollo can feel himself going scarlet from the roots of his hair all the way down to his collar. “This is so unfair. You’ll barely get in a car with me, and you’re terrified of motorcycles. How long did it take you to realize you like this guy again?”

Through gritted teeth, Apollo says, “You drive like you’re trying to die young, and Klavier is the only person I know who consistently follows every single traffic law to the letter.”

“Sounds like—“

“Also, we work together, and basically every time I’ve gotten a ride from him has been to or from case-relevant locations.”

“—Like excuses to me. What does Schatz mean, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” Apollo lies. Clay’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. He’s not that oblivious, then.

“Uh-huh.”

Apollo Justice, 12:04pm

I guess so.

Klavier Gavin, 12:05pm

so tuesday at 3pm, meeting at my office, then?

Apollo Justice, 12:06pm

Works for me.

I have to go, I’m supposed to be hanging out with Clay today. But I’ll see you Tuesday?

Klavier Gavin, 12:09pm

tuesday it is! i can’t wait to see you ;)

and tell your friend i said danke, ja?

Apollo Justice, 12:11pm

Thanks, he wasn’t already being insufferable enough.

“Oh I’m the fucking best,” Clay says, gleefully. Apollo tries to hide a smile, but it’s pointless. Clay has already thrown an arm around his shoulders to squeeze him in a tight side-hug. “Who is the best friend in the whole wide world who probably just got you laid?”

“Clay.”

“Remember this when I’m done with my mission and I have time to date again, okay? I expect equally enthusiastic wing-manning from you.”

“You have literally never needed me to wingman for you,” Apollo says, with fond exasperation. “Besides, what happened to that alien boyfriend you keep insisting you’ll come back with?”

“Well, maybe he’ll only be my alien work-friend when I come back, and I’ll need my dear friend to help me push past my misconceptions about professionalism to find true love.”

“Good grief,” Apollo says, as the blush that had been steadily dying down on his face flares back to life. “True love? It’s one coffee date. Slow it on down.”

Clay opens his mouth, probably with the intent to say more wild shit about Apollo’s upcoming date (a date! With Klavier! Is Apollo still in a weird exhaustion-induced feelings dream?), so Apollo hurriedly jumps in to say, “So how did you want to spend your day off? Video games? Movies?”

“I want to kick your ass at Smash Bros,” Clay says.

“I think we can arrange that.”

“Almost as easily as we just arranged—“

“Pushing your luck, Terran.”

“I learned that from the very best,” Clay says, nudging Apollo’s shoulder with his own with a fond grin. Apollo can’t help but smile back.

“I guess you did.”

[ameftowriter]

Their Own Secrets (Dr. Stone Fanfic)

Here’s another fic I wrote for that twitter prompt challenge. Almost 1.4k  words written in an hour XD 

The prompt for this one is Secrets

Ao3 | ffnet

Asagiri Gen had a secret. Well, he had many, but this one in particular is one of the deepest darkest ones he has kept inside him and will probably be dragged to his grave. He woke up from the petrification, naked, cold and scared for his damn life. Shihio Tsukasa gave him an offer he could not refuse. It was more accept it or be left alone to die in the brand new stone world. 

Then in an accident, he discovered something that no one else in the world has known.

There was a date carved crudely into a tree next to the so called “Miracle Cave”

Honestly, the carving was more of the miracle than the cave itself if you ever got Gen to admit it.

The carving was a date. The exact date that an unknown individual had broken from the stone, naked, maybe cold, and most definitely… alone…

Gen did not know how to comprehend this fact. It took him a while, but he finally accepted this truth.

Perhaps that's where it all began.

That he fell for this unknown person.

Once he met Ishigami Senku, finally a face was plastered into his mysterious carver. He did not expect him to be this handsome, chaotic, yet wonderful human being. And yet he did.

THis was perhaps the beginning of his crush on him?

He never really told Senku that he saw that date. Would he believe him?

“Hey, Senku-chan… I saw that onderfyl-way date you wrote on that tree when I just woke up. And it’s because of that, I dragged my ass down here and fell in love with you!” Gen said to himself quietly as he recalled the moments that led him to this moment, willing to backstab Hyoga and his men. And in turn Tsukasa as well. People who could snap his neck in one hand so easily. 

No… It was not willing.

He is going to do it.

“Haha…. Like he will believe that…” Gen laughed sadly to himself. “I guess for now.. It will be my little secret…”

Little did Gen know, months later…

________________________________________________________________

Ishigami Senku had a secret too…

Before he met Asagiri Gen, before the world turned to stone, before he even met Ooki Taiju, his soon to be best friend, the young budding scientist had begun running his experiments outside. Also because, their landlord scolded both of them for causing another explosion in the building.

Senku was just about to end his experiments for the day, when he saw three figures approach him. From what he could tell, they were middle schoolers from the school next to his elementary school.

It wasn’t long until their intentions were shown.

A punch and a kick to his face had sent poor Senku off his feet and landed further away from his newly created machine. The young scientist still rushed in and tried to pry them off from stomping and crushing it, but it was to no avail, he was not only younger than them, he was physically weaker than them.

One of the bullies found him annoying and turned to throw a punch. Senku closed his eyes in anticipation of pain, but felt none.

He slowly opened his eyes and saw that he was not hurt, or rather, someone had dragged him away.

He quickly turned to see his rescuer to only see a young boy about a few years older than him, and looked like he came from the same middle school as these bullies. The most noticeable feature he had was the colours (yes, plural) of his hair. One side, the shorter one was black and the other, longer, was white.

The bullies were not impressed (which meant that he wasn't with them, Senku sighed in relief for that) and yelled at him to mind his own business. 

The young boy who rescued him, looked up to them and gave them a smile. Senku was not the one for the emotions, but even he knew smiling at the face of someone who can hurt you was not the best thing to do. But somehow this boy told them something sweet and something that gave Senku the feeling that it was all a lie. And to his surprise, the bulles lowered their hands and legs, apologized to him, and squirmed away.

“Whew…” his saviour let out a huge sigh of relief, “That was so cary-say… Are you alright?”

Senku finally had a good look at the boy who saved him. Besides the hair, he has calm, yet cold lavender coloured eyes, and his fake smile from earlier, had changed from a warmer one. It was odd, but it did save his life, so Senku did not ask.

Rather, he first asked, “Why is your hair like that?”

The boy laughed at him, “You say that first, and not a thank you? Gee, you're welcome.”

“Well I…” Senku’s face flushed pink from embarrassment, “I was just curious… scientifically speaking…”

“You’re such a cute little scientist…” Senku didn't feel like he was lying for that one, “And since you are curious, I have a condition that is called “Poliosis” the doctor said something about part of my hair not having something “melanin” and such and that's why my hair is naturally like this!”

“Oh….. that makes sense…” Senku finally remembered hearing about that condition from one of the hard textbook about diseases he had read a few weeks ago. “And youre talking about melanin, it’s what's responsible for our skin and hair colour.”

“You know of it?” the older boy laughed again, “That’s impressive for a cute little scientist like you!”

“Well I have to since I have to learn all the sciences after all.”

“And, pray tell, why do you want to do that?”

“Because I wanna go to space as soon as possible!”

The older boy’s eyes widened as he heard the young scientist say it with a straight face. He didn’t know if he was to be shocked or impressed or both.

“Well… I guess compared to even me and everyone else I know…” He began again, “You seemed to be in leaps and bounds in science.”

“I still have a long way to go…” Senku huffed

“Then I wish you the very best of luck, my cute little scientist....” the older boy then in a sudden rush leaned closer to Senku and kissed him at the forehead.

Senku felt himself freeze and at the same time felt hot from the sudden affection on him.

“I have to go, now.” The older boy turned away blushing as he slowly walked away from him, “My parents will kill me if I’m not home by six… bye you cute little scientist!”

And with that, they both separated without even uttering their names. 

Though after that, they never saw each other again, and was all but forgotten, when another kid at Senku’s age had protected him from the bullies this time.

Three thousand seven hundred and nineteen years later.... 

“And that is why my hair is like this…” Gen had just finished explaining the reasoning behind his hair colour to Chrome, Kohaku, Suika, and Kaseki. 

“So like half of your hair doesn’t have that melanin stuff” Chrome asked

“That is correct Chrome-chan! It's…”

“It's responsible for the colour of your skin and hair.” Senku interrupted the conversation.

“As Senku-chan says!” Gen gave everyone a warm smile.

Senku figured it was Gen  that had saved him when he was younger, but hadn't had the time, or the courage to tell him.

For a while he wondered about his mysterious saviour, then forgot about it when he had met Taiju and Yuzuriha. But there were times that he still thought of him. Those two coloured hair…

When he met Gen, well he thought it was just a coincidence, then realized the probability of anyone having poliosis. When he remembered the sweet words he used he used the same to everyone he met, including him, he had little to no doubt that this was the young boy who saved him.

Because of this, the, what he thought was fleeting feelings for his saviour came back like the bullet train.

And whenever Gen turns to him, those same feelings hit him again.

But there were things that had to be done first. He couldn’t possibly let these distract him.

And yet… since Gen was here and is a part of them now… he wondered if he could ask him one day..

But for now… it will be Senku’s little secret...

[peterthepark]

Not a question but I just want you to know I’ve been scrolling through your blog and reading everything for like the last hour and I love it all 💕 I’m also a lover of Steve x Henderson!Reader, and this idea is far from angsty but I love the idea of a cute/fluffy fic about Dustin’s sister being a camp counselor and Steve has been sending her flirty letters all summer but gets too nervous to ask her on a real date when she gets back lmao

hope u enjoy 🌹

Camp Crush

Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

“How long has he been like that?”

Steve lays on his couch, head buried in a mass of throw pillows as a blanket covers the length of his body. He’s not sick, yet there are countless amounts of tissue on the floor around him.

It’s been two weeks since he got a letter back from you. Of course, he understands that sometimes letters get lost on the way to their sender, or that people may write the wrong address, or that they forget to mail it - but Steve knows that you aren’t the type of person who casually forgets to mail someone. All of the worst case scenarios flood his mind instantaneously. Did he say something wrong in his last letter? Was he being too nice or too playful? Did he scare you off with his jokes? Did you happen to meet someone else at your job?

“Steve, get up.” Dustin kicks at Steve’s arm, who reacts with a long groan.

“Go away, shitheads.” He mumbles, barely looking at the kids surrounding him. “I’m sick.”

“Yeah, and I’m sick of you acting like a child.” Max moves past Lucas, grabbing at Steve’s arm with all her strength. That’s when everyone pitches in, all dragging Steve down onto the carpet.

“You guys are so annoying. Middle schoolers are so annoying. Leave me alone.” He mopes, not caring to get off the floor.

“Is this about Y/N?” Will asks.

Immediately, Steve perks up. His whole body shoots off the floor and suddenly he can finally stand upright. His hair is wild, and his eyes are wide. “What about Y/N?”

“That she hasn’t written back to you in days?” Will scoffs, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the room.

“You write to my sister?” Dustin steps out from the group, furrowing his brows at Steve. “Wait, you write to my sister?!”

“I thought you knew!” Steve retaliates, voice cracking as Dustin pushes at his chest. 

“You’re the guy that she wants to ask out?!”

Pause.

“She wants to ask me out?”

Steve feels like time has stopped. He can only hear his own breathing, rather than the explosive shouts and rejoices from the children in front of him. He plops down onto the couch, arms resting in his lap as he leans forward with a puzzled look.

“Oh, my god.” He chuckles, smiling. A blush washes over his face and creeps down his neck. “She likes me. Wow.”

“I do like you.”

Steve turns his head at the pleasant sound. It’s unfamiliar, but he seems to recognize it. 

He knows that it’s you.

“I thought I was being pretty obvious with the kind of letters I was sending you.” You chuckle, setting down your heavy bags by the coffee table. Steve slowly stands up from the couch, jaw hanging open as he takes his first steps towards you. “I-I figured that maybe seeing you in person would be much better than talking to you through a crappy piece of paper.”

“Y/N…” He pulls you into his arms, crushing you in his grasp as your feet lift from the ground. He grins, calling out your name once more while he twirls you around. “You’re here. How are you - why are you -  Y/N!” He laughs, setting you down. His hands cup your cheeks, eyes staring into yours. 

“Hi, Steve.” You giggle, placing your hands over his. “I… I did write you a letter, though. But I wanted to give it to you in pri-”

“Dear Steve,” You whip around, gasping when you find that your brother has your letter in his hands, reading aloud while his friends circle around him. 

Nosy little shit.

“Hey! Don’t read that!” You reach over to snatch the letter from Dustin. However, before you can react, Lucas takes it from him - running to the top of the stairs to read it further.

“Dear Steve!” He shouts, grinning victoriously when he sees the embarrassment written all over your face. “I miss you, so much. With my whole heart. I can’t wait to see you in person soon. Maybe you can finally take me to that new mall that you work at. I’m sure you look handsome as always in that disgustingly cute sailor uniform.” He gags humorously, doubling over in childish laughter. “I wish that you could see the view that I have from my cabin. It’s so quiet and peaceful here, and I’m sure that we’d have lots of time to…” Lucas stops, face falling as he furrows his eyebrows. His upper lip curls up, baring his teeth as he squints his eyes at the letter. “No! Nope! I’m done reading. I did not need to see that. Oh, god.”

“That’s what you get, smartass!” You grab the crumpled paper from Lucas, shaking your head at him as he covers his eyes. You hand it over to Steve, lowering your voice to a hushed whisper. “This is for you. Read it later.”

“I sure will.” He winks, humming softly as he puts it away in his pocket. “So… you wanna - you wanna go to the mall?”

“Right now?” You look up at him, playing with your hands. He nods, a shy smile lingering on his lips. “To hang out?”

“I mean… not to just hang out, but…” Steve sighs. Shutting his eyes, he rubs his jaw, before placing his hands on his hips. “But, uh, I wanted to - I wanted to see if you, um… you - you wanted to go on a date with me! At the mall! A date… at the mall? Do you - do you wanna go? With me? To the mall. I meant. For the date.”

The kids behind you start to snicker. You’re blushing extremely hard, swaying lightly from side to side. Steve shifts from one foot to the other, anxiously waiting for your response.

“Yes, I-I… I would love to go on that date. To the mall. With you, Steve Harrington.” You mimic him playfully, looking away with a bashful grin. 

“It’s a date, then.”

[mackinmacki]

Penalty Shot

Rating: K

Word Count: 1705

Summary: Ruby and Weiss go to a pee-wee soccer game to cheer on their daughter. Weiss is one of those parents.

Pairing: White Rose

Notes: This is for day eight of White Rose Week. Topic: Free.

Link: (FFN) | (AO3)

——————————————————————————————

It was a beautiful day for pee-wee soccer. The sun was shining, but not hot enough to risk any dehydration. There was hardly a cloud in the sky, and the ones that remained were all white and fluffy. The stands at the local athletic club field were filled with proud parents and a couple random, curious spectators. In the middle of the stands, cheering on their young daughter, were Ruby and Weiss. Yang, who was sitting right above the married couple, was cheering with them for her favorite niece. As for Blake, she had a prior commitment of not being there.

"Come on, Autumn!" Ruby clapped as their daughter kicked the ball down the field and hustled after it. She was one of a handful on the field who were actually trying to play the game. Some were doing the bare minimum that would keep them on the field, and several others were standing around completely lost. That was just how sports went when the kids were that young, and Ruby understood that. She'd been that young too, and she'd learned to encourage those kids who didn't really know what they were doing.

Weiss, on the other hand, had a slightly different take on the situation. Despite having never played a sport in her life, she was the one who trained their daughter the most for soccer. She'd spent a lot of time online learning the ins and outs of the game, all very important technical information that a seven year old finds eminently fascinating. In her mind, having a child who looked lost on the field was unacceptable, and she had to make sure that little Autumn was the best player on the field at all times. Ruby had tried to get her to ease off, but she might as well have told Blake to stop being moody.

At least she'd gotten Weiss to come to the games at all. She'd never shown any interest in athletics before, and she'd worried that Autumn wouldn't have both of her moms cheering her on at her games should she choose to start playing sports. Well, she did, but to Ruby's surprise, it hadn't been hard at all to get Weiss to go. She'd insisted on going, which had been great! At first. Now, she'd started to wonder if there was a way to keep Weiss away from the games. She was on her best behavior at the moment, but the game had only begun recently. It was only a matter of time...

"Ugh, come on! Ref!" Well, there she went. Ruby sighed and sunk low on the bench as Weiss jumped to her feet in anger. One of the opposing players had run into Autumn, but the referee hadn't blown his whistle. From a distance, Ruby could tell the poor guy was college-age and likely just wetting his feet in the profession. It was more for the experience than the money. And boy, was he about to get an experience... "Where's the whistle, ref?!"

To his credit, he didn't seem to have any reaction to Weiss's yelling. Maybe it made him more nervous, but it didn't necessarily show. He wouldn't have been the first referee to have a reaction to her wife's shrill screech. She just hoped - pleaded, really - that there wouldn't be any more mistakes involving her daughter, so there wouldn't be any more opportunities for the other parents to stare and judge them.

That was but a pipe dream. Another missed call had Weiss up and screaming again, but it wasn't only concerning the ref's incompetency. She was shouting about how the other team was engaging in crooked play. The dirty, 'anything to win' shenanigans of elementary schoolers. Ruby looked back at Yang, her eyes wide and desperate for help. Her sister was sitting there with her phone out, gleefully recording Weiss's latest 'angry soccer parent' outburst. She looked around at all the eyes on them, especially two pairs of narrowed stares that more than likely came from the parents of the child Weiss was accusing of foul play. Ruby laughed nervously before groaning and withdrawing as far into herself as she could. If she scooted far enough away, maybe nobody would know that they were there together.

Things were mostly calm through the rest of the game, which was as much of a relief as Ruby could get. As much as she wanted to enjoy the game, she had her concentration torn between watching their daughter and whispering to Weiss to try and keep her from embarrassing them in front of all the other parents. Sometimes she could be more childish than their literal seven year old. Not that she'd ever admit to that, of course. To her, vigorously berating the referee was just her way of keeping things honest. Honestly anxiety-inducing.

After the game was over, which ended up as a victory for Autumn's team, Ruby headed down to the field to congratulate her daughter. She hugged her tightly and told her what a good job she'd done. "That was a very good goal you made, sweetie!" She made sure Autumn drank some of her water, then looked up to find her wife. Usually Weiss was right down with her telling their daughter how good she'd done, as any proud parent would. She'd thought the victory would quell her anger, but by the way she was cornering the referee, it would appear that wasn't the case. "Oh dear... Please stay here, sweetie. Mommy will be right back."

"I cannot believe they allow you to referee games of this importance! Do you even have a license to do this? Let me see your refereeing license this instant!" Away from the game and the other parents, Weiss was dressing down the poor ref in no uncertain terms. By the time Ruby got over there, he looked positively terrified of this soccer mom who barely came up to his chin in heels. Ruby didn't blame him: most people's fight or flight mechanics were activated whenever Hurricane Schnee barreled down upon them.

"M-Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to step away, or I'll..." He stammered out what sounded like a threat, but it came across as more of a 'please spare my life' kind of deal. That was a clear sign of weakness, and the great Weiss shark could smell it in the water. She was going to pounce and destroy another referee if Ruby didn't intervene. This was not what she'd expected when she'd promised to stick by Weiss 'for better or worse'.

"Weiss, honey, light of my life..." She slipped behind Weiss and started massaging her shoulders, trying her damnedest to calm her down. From past experiences, she knew it only did so much, but it was the best she could think of outside of knocking her unconscious with a bat and dragging her home. "Our daughter wants to celebrate her team's victory, and she would really appreciate hearing about how good she did from you." Hopefully that would work...

"Alright then." Without missing a beat, Weiss turned around and headed for the bench, leaving both Ruby and the referee in shock. No matter how many times it worked, it was still surprising that just mentioning their kid could make Weiss's emotions change on a dime. Ruby wiped her brow with a sigh of relief, but her troubles weren't over yet. There was still damage control to be done.

"Hey man, uh... I'm sorry about my wife. She gets really... passionate, about soccer. I'm sure she didn't mean anything bad she said to you."

"Like how I got my refereeing degree at clown college?"

"Uhh, yeahhh..." Oh Weiss... "She really didn't mean it and I would really, really appreciate it if you didn't tell the club owners and get my wife banned from the grounds. Our daughter would be crushed if she couldn't come to see her games." She hated to pull out the kid card, but it was the best card she had in her hand to play. Weiss always left her in a tough spot when it came to keeping these venues from having signs put up saying 'Do not let this woman in'. With the way the referee was looking over at Weiss, who was now speaking with their daughter, she felt like it might be working.

"Alright, I won't say anything, but please keep her from yelling at me again. There's only so much I can take." His eyes darted over to Weiss again, a flicker of fear in them. Ruby sighed but smiled through it, thanking him before heading for her family. She wanted to take Weiss to the side and try again to convince her to mellow out, but she stopped when she heard her and their daughter talking.

"I'm proud of you, Autumn. You did so well today!" Weiss hugged Autumn, the love shining in her eyes having completely overtaken any anger she may have had previously. "You wiped the floor with the other team!"

"I did!" Autumn giggled and hugged Weiss back, melting Ruby's heart. How could she have a stern conversation with Weiss now after seeing those two being so loving and adorable together? Maybe she was doing it on purpose to get out of what was certainly to come, but darnit, it was working. "Can we have lunch, mom? I'm hungry!"

"Absolutely. Let's go find your mother and-" She turned and found Ruby staring at them, startling her. "Oh! Well, there she is." Holding Autumn's hand, she walked over to Ruby and smiled at her. "Our daughter would like to have lunch. Are you ready to go?" She looked at Weiss, then down to their equally-happy daughter, and she just couldn't bear to rain on their parade. Even if Weiss's parade was fueled by competitive anger and could use a rainout or two.

"Yes. Yes I am." She smiled and took Autumn's other hand, the three of them heading to the parking lot. The talk about Weiss's behavior could come later. For now, she was going to spend the rest of the day enjoying the good life with her two favorite people in the world. There was honestly nothing better than that.

[spideyyverse]

Grease! AU

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Chapter: 3/7 

Alternate reality where Eddie Kaspbrak is a boy from New York visiting the small town of Derry for the Summer and so happens to have met the greaser himself, Richie Tozier.

Characters: Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak, Beverly Marsh, Ben Hanscom, Stan Uris, Mike Hanlon, Bill Denbrough, Audra Phillips

Pairings: Reddie, Stenbrough, Benverly, Maudra (Audra x Mike!)

Warnings: Homophobia, swearing, underage drinking and smoking

Word Count: 2,094

Author Notes: Chapters will be based on a song from the movie, I’m not sure if I’ll do each song but if there’s a specific song you would like me to include, let me know in my ask box!

Also, the losers are very ooc. I understand they’re nothing like the way I’m portraying them in my story. Please do not get angry for the way I’m writing them, it’s apart of this au solely and that’s not how I actually view them.

Quick thank you to @get-fcking-reddie for the suggestion of Audra x Mike!

Tags: @universal-gay

What's that playing on the radio, why do I start swaying to and fro I have never heard that song before, but if I don't hear it anymore It's still familiar to me, sends a thrill right through me Cause those chords remind me of the night that I first fell in love to

It had been about a month and a half since the pep rally incident. After long and continuous “move on” and “He’s not worth it” from Bev and Audra, Eddie found himself mustering up some courage and agreed to go on a date with the football player he met at the pep rally. While the town of Derry was very much homophobic and Justin, the football player, was a closeted gay--both boys agreed to have dinner at the local diner. 

However, it had to be kept on the down-low; The date would be on Tuesday afternoon-a time when the diner wouldn’t be busy-and if anyone asked, they were just friends.  

“This is...nice,” Eddie bit his lip trying to make conversation.

“I guess...this place isn’t anything fancy. Although, the guys and I broke an arcade machine here once..” Justin shrugged eating some fries that were placed between both boys.

He continued to talk about the great broken arcade machine story while Eddie looked around the diner. His eyes landed on the juke box sitting near the hallway that led to the restrooms.

“Give me fifty cents, yeah?” Eddie interrupted Justin.

“Why?”

“Just give me fifty cents. It’ll be quick.”

Justin handed over fifty cents with a large amount of confusion placed all over his face, Eddie took the money and walked down to the jukebox. He inserted the two quarters and began to shuffle through the choices of songs.

Down the hallway that was next to the juke box, Richie Tozier had stepped out of the bathroom. He was running his hands through his hair when he heard the familiar sounds, it was the beginning of Africa by Toto. Something about it made him feel at home. It was the song that was playing when he and Eddie first met at the Quarry. 

Richie knew someone was standing behind him, as a matter of fact, he got a glance at the cute boy when he was wondering around the quarry. Silence was nice to have at times but Richie liked to smoke while listening to music. He brought over the boombox he stole from Ben and let the radio be his DJ for the hour. Africa by Toto began to play when he heard the boys’ footsteps. The cute boy. Cute, cute, cute...

Richie stopped in his steps when he saw the familiar brown hair standing in front of the juke box, he seemed satisfied with his choice of song and began walking back to where his table was. Richie picked up his pace and grabbed Eddie’s wrist before he could take another step.

“Ed’s,” Richie breathed.

“Don’t touch me,” Eddie growled but kept his voice low, despite the diner being mainly empty, he still didn’t want to cause a scene with the people that were there. 

“Please, it’ll only take two minutes. I just wanna talk,” Richie pleaded.

“You sure had a lot to say at the pep rally,” 

“You have to understand that wasn’t me Ed’s- none of that was,” 

“Don’t. You don’t get to call me that and pretend everything is okay Richie,” Eddie snapped.

“Eddie-” Richie bit his lip, from the corner of his eye, he could see the guys stepping into the diner after taking their smoke break.

“No Richie. You had your chance, besides, I’m with Justin now. He’s a sweet guy.” Eddie sighed and gave a small smile at Justin who made eye contact with him.

Richie wasn’t used to whatever pain that was tingling in his chest. he wasn’t used to rejection. He was Richie Tozier. Secret bisexual but could also get any boy or girl in his room then leave the next day and not think anything of it. Why was Eddie different? 

Because Eddie Kaspbrak had morals.

Because some stupid song called Africa was playing the day Richie Tozier fell in love with Eddie Kaspbrak and it fucking hurts him.

Beatings of my broken heart will rise the first place of the charts, Oh, my heart arranges, oh, those magic changes

Meanwhile, a month and a half earlier, Stanley Uris and Bill Denbrough were still closeted gays. 

Key word; were.

Stan and Bill didn’t think anyone would be in the area they parked at the drive-in. They parked in an area where they couldn’t even see the movie, it was far off to the side and the car wasn’t even parked in the direction of the large screen. So it was a surprise when Henry Bowers and his crew showed up hooting and hollering at both boys.

The thing was, Stan and Bill weren’t sucking face; They weren’t urging to take each others pants off. No, they were having a small and quiet conversation. Stan wasn’t some asshole who is always out to get someone and Bill wasn’t some leather jacket wearing asshole who does weed under the bleachers (That was Richie). With their quiet and shy conversation, they shared small pecks every once in a while. They knew being at the drive in would be Taboo, Bill even offered to drive back to his house on the way, but Stan insisted that they go the drive in.

Now that Henry and his merry band caught the two boys exchanging a soft kiss, they paraded with how much they were going to be able to torment the two boys. Now don’t get anyone wrong, the T birds nor the Pink Ladies take any of the Bowers Gang shit but when your closeted gay and the guy who holds a lot power just caught you kissing another dude, the situation is different.

“Denbrough? You’re one of those fags?” Henry sneered.

Bill only stood silent, letting the word fag run around in his mind.

“Now Uris. I’m not surprised. I’ve always known he’s one of those faggots, but you-You, I didn’t expect this!” Henry laughed while his gang snickered behind him like a bunch of hyenas. 

“L-leave him a-alone!” Bill snapped but it wasn’t very intimidating, his stutter really took control when he felt scared--And in this case, he was scared shitless.

He nor Stan were afraid of Bowers, they were afraid of what he was capable of. 

“Y-you w-want me t-to l-leave him a-alone?” He mocked him and stepped towards the car that had the roof down. 

“Henry, you can’t tell anyone. Please.” Stan pleaded but his voice came as low as a whisper.

“What was that Stanley? Begging? Whatever happened to the Stan who made people plead for him? I’m sure you would plead to suck my-” Henry didn’t finish the sentence by the time Bill hopped out the car and swung at Henry, sending him flying towards the car. 

“Bill!” Stan screamed but Henry had already tackled the Denbrough boy.

As strong as Bill was, he was outnumbered. Four against one. Stan froze as he watched his boyfriend get the shit kicked out of him.

Henry grabbed Bill by the collar of his shirt and held him to the point where Bill could feel his hot breath breathing against his, “If you don’t want people to know that you’re a fag, you’re gonna have to race us at Thunder Road,”

Bill could only nod as Henry continued, “You have until the end of the year to fix that shit box you call a car. I can’t guarantee that I can hold a secret for that long.” 

Henry let go of Bill and walked off with his crew.

Stan ran over to Bill and carried him to the passengers seat. Stan started the engine and began to drive back to his house, he prayed that his parents weren’t home. One good thing came out of that night, Stan’s parents weren’t home. 

The car ride had been silent, the radio static was the only thing that kept them company. Stan led Bill upstairs and to the bathroom. He pulled out the first aid kit and tended to Bill’s wounds.

“Bill?”

“Yeah?”

“We can’t do this, not anymore,” Stan whispered looking down at his feet.

“S-stan? No? W-we can m-make this w-work, this is o-our l-last y-year then w-we l-leave this s-shit hole!” Bill rose his voice a bit.

“This isn’t going to work if we’re constantly targeted and who knows how far Henry and his stupid crew will go!” Stan argued

“S-stan, it’s s-something w-we’re j-just g-going to have to d-deal w-with, besides w-we have until-”

“No Bill! We’re not doing this anymore!”

“S-stan P-please!”

“I’m doing this to protect you!”

“If you ever loved me, you wouldn’t fucking let Henry get in the way of us.” Bill snapped, his stutter disappearing along with his love for the curly haired boy.

I'll be waiting by the radio, you'll come back to me someday, I know Been so lonesome since our last goodbye, but I'm singin' as I cry 

It was now January. No one understood why Stan always seemed like he had a stick up his ass and no one understood why Bill had practically made home in the car shop. Eddie didn’t need to hear Stan’s comments about everything he did. Meanwhile, Richie was stuck as Mike and Audra’s third wheel since Bill called Ben to help him out with the wheel. 

“Hey Audra, would you-um-be my date to the Winter formal?” Mike scratched the back of his neck, he sounded like a middle schooler asking his crush out.

Richie only rolled eyes when Audra happily squealed yes and practically threw herself at him. Richie got up and walked towards the other end of the bleachers. Richie lit up a cigarette while Eddie sat in the stands with his secret boyfriend who was taking a break from football practice. 

Richie turned his head when he saw Eddie and whatever-his-name-was share a quick peck when they figured no one was looking. Richie felt anger build up in his chest, he threw his unfinished cigarette to the ground and stomped on it. He marched towards the track coach.

“Coach, I wanna join the team,” Richie instantly demanded.

“Tozier? Athletic?” The coach rose an eyebrow.

“Just let me try out Coach’ everyone deserves a fair try out, don’t they?” Richie smirked.

The coach only sighed and told Richie to change into athletic wear, which Richie thankfully had in his locker. Half an hour later, the team was finally done with warm ups and set off on the track. Richie jogged, trying to let his mind focus on anything but Eddie.

Anything but Eddie’s brown eyes. Anything but Eddie’s brown, soft curly hair. Anything but Eddie’s smile. 

Eddie was still sitting at the bleachers, trying to focus on the football but his eyes kept wondering off to focus on Richie.

Richie let his focus become about Eddie and Eddie only. He focused on Eddie sitting on the bleachers in his overalls. Cute, cute, cute!

Richie quickened his pace to turn his jog into a sprint but didn’t realize his shoelaces were untied. He tripped over his laces as Eddie watched and it sent him tumbling across the track.

“Richie!” Eddie shouted running towards the boy. 

Eddie quickly pulled some bandages from his bag and began to patch up Richie. Richie could only feel his tummy erupt with butterflies with the feeling of Eddie’s touch.

“Jesus Rich, you have to be more careful next time, are you okay?”

Richie only smiled, “Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I just fell for you,”

Eddie could only bite back his smile but failed, “You’re an idiot Richie Tozier,”

“Listen Ed’s, let me make it up to you. Be my date to the winter formal,” Richie bit his lip then continued, “I can’t keep waiting for you. I need you now. I’ve been listening to our stupid song that was playing when we first met. I can’t keep missing you, I need you.”

Eddie quickly looked around and when he noticed no one was watching, he smashed his lips with Richie’s but quickly pulled apart, “Of course Chee.”

“What about your boyfriend?” Richie tried so hard to contain his excitement. The boy he pinned over for so long, the boy he loved was finally his again. 

“He’s an airhead. He loves his muscles more than anything,”

Eddie continued, “Now the real question is, will our suits or ties match?”

[deathbyseventeen]

Fight or Flight || Seungkwan AU

Title: Fight or Flight || Holiday Collection: Halloween 

Member: Seungkwan x Reader

Words: 4654

Genre: Supernatural, Horror, Thriller, FLUFF  

A/N: //sigh// Needs more gore. I want to do a version 2 but I don't have time. Guess who hasn’t started on her 7 page midterm paper due Halloween morning.  SORRY FOR THE TYPOS 

Blurb:.....He’s forgetting something...isn’t he?

There were special moments to everyone’s lives. Moments like forks in the road, either here or there, but neither there or here.

They were choices, small or big, it didn’t matter, that created these moment even if we didn’t know it. Some people were aware of it, others weren’t or at least, chose to ignore it. Sometimes it was better to be ignorant, avoid the anxiety that came with knowing.

But it was all the same either way. The choices you made were like blips on a map, showing exactly what road you were taking where.

The destination was unknown in reality, you imagined on thing, but got another; and oh, were you painfully aware of that now.

It had all seemed normal at first, even from a distance, the tents and games seemed to glow and come to life with a beautiful orange tint that bleeded into the night sky.

It gorgeous and the fliers that had appeared over night in town only coaxed more and more people to go on opening night and closing night. You see, opening night was closing night; the carnival people would only be in town for one day, Halloween.

‘A special place to bring special people.’ The town was skeptical. ‘No children allowed. Age 15+’ The town was sold.

Parents would bring their spouse on this day out. Teens would bring friends, others would bring the person they were dating or the person they wished they were.

Rumors spread easily in this small town, and rumor had it that this would be the best place to confess. No one knew how the rumor started, but it sparked a flame in high schoolers especially.

Everyone who had a crush had a flame of hope ignited inside them, you were no exception.

“Y/N!” Seungkwan came running up to your locker, face flush and a shy smile on his face. “The guys and me are going to the carnival tomorrow! Do you want to come with me— us, I mean?” He corrected himself quickly.

You nodded as you closed your locker with the back of your hand, “I’d have to ask my parents, but I’d say yes.”

“Alright cool, cool.” He laughed, walking backwards toward his group of friends who were all watching amusedly. “We’re meeting at town square at 7.”

Your town, like most small towns, was in love with the concept of Halloween. Even those teens who would look like they could care less of such a ‘childish holiday,’ had nothing to say about.

They would be out just like everyone else, giving out candy, getting candy, at a costume party at town hall ballroom, and now, a carnival.

Under the glow of the moon and fire lit light posts (only fire lit today), in your inspired costume, you shivered from the cold.

You closed your eyes and tried to imagine the warmth that could be emanating from that fire, if only it could be close to you. Nothing. All you felt was the cool night air.

The growing sound of rowdy boys distracted you and broke your concentration. “Y/N!” A voice you’d know anywhere, rose above the others.

As all of you made your way over to the fair, you failed to notice that the freezing temperature seemed to rise into a searing warmth. But, to be fair, you couldn’t really focus on anything besides Seungkwan’s costumed form. You couldn’t really figure out what he was dressed as, but the oversized top hat and long brown tailcoat fit him too well.

Every now and then he would turn around and send you a smile, bringing you into the conversation when you seemed to be having trouble joining the twelve other boys.  

“So, Y/N, what do you think about the fair?” Seungkwan asked.

You hummed, kicking dirt into the air, “I think they better have funnel cake with lots of powder and strawberries on top. Other than that,” you laughed, “I don’t know what to think, I’ve never been to a fair before.”

“Really?” Seungkwan gasped.

“Don’t gasp.” Seungkwan’s friend, Minghao grumbled, “You’ve never been to one either.”

You stifled a laugh because of his brazen friend. Seungkwan chuckled awkwardly, face turning red; he ran a hand across the nape of his neck.

Rocking on the heels of your shoes, you giggled as Seungkwan tried to juggle a set of pins he had stolen from his friend Jun, who was dressed as a jester.

“You really are mad.” You laughed, trying to grab the pins mid air from him. Seungkwan moved with every step you took, smiling and shooting you a look from behind his shoulder.

“He may be mad, but only I can ring bells.” Jun winked at you. Seungkwan stopped and glared at him.

“What?” You asked, confused.

Seungkwan grimaced as he turned to look at you. The rest of his friends, on the other hand, tried to hold back their laughter, small, choked snorts coming out every now and then until they were doubling over in laughter.

“I don’t get it.”

“You don’t need to.” Seungkwan smiled shyly, curling into himself.

Around you, towns folk were beginning to form groups in anticipation. They talked animatedly, jumping around and showing off the costumes they had put together.

“Well, hello there.” A ragged voice interrupted your cheery shenanigans with Seungkwan. A hand ran down the middle of your back slowly. Startled, you brought up a hand to your heart, feeling your heart race and not in the way you were used to.

Behind you stood three teenagers around your age. One with sharp, angular face, that had a small scar under his right eye, grinned flirtingly, a jagged tooth sticking out like a sore thumb.

As you turned around, confused as you had never seen this person before, he reached out and tucked a strand of stray hair behind your ear.

“Excuse me?” You asked, recoiling at his touch.

“A beautiful piece like you should be spending time with a guy like me.” He motioned at his costume, a knight, a snake curling itself around his chest.

You grimaced.

“Me and my buddies are new around here. Would you mind showing us around.” He smirked. You gagged.

“Sorry to break it to you,” Seungkwan began, moving to stand in front of you, “but, this is the first time a fair has shown up here. Your out of luck. Good bye.”

The boy let out a bark of laughter. Craning his neck to get a look at you, he raised an eyebrow in a silent question. Quickly you hugged Seungkwan from behind, arms enveloping his torso, face hiding in his back. Just a look from that boy’s eyes and you could feel your insides turning cold. Seungkwan radiated a kind warmth even from far away. You melted onto him, letting out a content sigh.  

“Suit yourself.” He snarled. The snake let out a hiss. The boy glared at you two one last time before turning on his heels and stalking away, disappearing into the masses.

Amidst his assault, Seungkwan and you failed to notice that the town’s folk around you had stopped talking to each other animatedly. They were quiet now, whispering to each other quickly as the scene unfolded.

You cringed and let go of Seungkwan quickly and stuttered out an apology. He nodded quickly, avoiding looking you in the eyes. Awkwardly, you both listened to the whisperings going on around you.  

A loud, creaking noise interrupted their hushed whispers. They fell silent, huddling into one another until they realized it was only the iron gates pushing against their hinges to open and allow them inside.

When the creaking stoped, they stood still, wondering who would be the first soul to take a step onto the grounds. It wasn’t a matter of follow-the-leader, just fear, as they realized that no workers were out in the open, and the tent, rides and houses they had set up were dark and desolate.

Seungcheol choked down a cough and tentatively stepped inside, twisting around to wave everyone else forward.

“S-Should we ask if there’s anyone there?” Seungkwan stuttered eying the expanse.

Thunder sounded. You would have founded it corny were it not for the flash of light that came from the sky. Smoke snaked though their legs, curling around them like they were ready to pull and capture their pray.

A hissing sound bristled the hair on their arms.

Fight or Flight? Flight.

With a lump in their throats, they twisted their bodies trying to turn around and run. But, alas, soon they realized that their feet were stuck in the spots they had walked onto, unable to run away, only flail around like rats on a glue trap.

A man in a long black overcoat that reached his ankles and collar overturned to cover his neck appeared at the front, facing them, laughing amusedly. A wide rimmed, smushed top hat rested atop his head and a bone colored birds masked with red glass eyes, started back at them, its beak jutting high into the air.

“Plague Doctor.” You whispered in awe, studying all the small details on the man’s costume.

“This isn’t 14th century Italy.” Seungkwan grumbled. You let out a breathless laugh at his comment.

“Ladies and,” he paused as if to draw out the word, which he did, long and voluptuously, “gentlemen.”

“It is my honor to be able to settle my fair in such a town that celebrates Halloween so passionately.” He shot an arm out and waved it in the air around himself, motioning to the stalls and buildings set up. “Now if you please.” With his raven head cane, he motioned deeper inside. “Go forth on this marvelous adventure. My creatures await.”

His face wasn’t visible because of the mask, but by the tone of his voice you could tell he was grinning wickedly. With a roar, he disappeared behind a puff of smoke.

Everyone was silent for a while, contemplating if they were ready to go through this fair. A few people, mostly the older parents and grandparents, shook their head and retreated back into town. Most of the people left were teenagers, new adults, eyeing each other warily, not wanting to appear weak.

“Well, that was...” you laughed awkwardly, trying to disguising a gulp of fear.

“That was...” Seungkwan agreed nodding, but looked away so you wouldn’t see the flash of fear he hadn’t been able to make disappear yet.

As time the seconds ticked on, the rides gradually came to life. Their lights blinding everyone for a few seconds before turning from an annoyance to an invitation.

You could almost doubt it had been the rides that had been brought to life; everyone here had been brought to life.

“Partner up guys! We’ll meet back here in an hour.” Seungcheol howled into the night, getting into his werewolf costume.

For the majority of the night, Seungkwan and you had walked around the stalls, laughing at peoples reactions when they were spooked. Every once and a while, you would take a peek at him from the corner of your eyes. You knew he was easily spooked, but he seemed to be taking the fair in a stride.

With deformed creatures and fake, bloody meat lying scattered across the fair ground, you were even surprised you hadn’t thrown up yet.

“Is it me or are there less people around than the amount that stayed?” You asked as you realized that the lines were getting significantly shorter.

“Maybe they were to cowardly.” Seungkwan smiled, shyly intertwining his hand with your and pulling you away from the fortune telling stand you were waiting for.

“Y-yeah.” You stuttered, trying not to blush. “Maybe.” You glanced down at you feet.

“Maybe.” Seungkwan repeated, blushing to himself. He couldn’t believe he had actually grabbed your hand. Impulse! Oh, but how he was thanking his luck, since you hadn’t retracted your hand.

“Y/N.” Seungkwan began softly, blushing harder and looking down just as you had. “I-I was wondering— I-I m-mean I a-asked you to come to fair b-because I wanted to a-ask you if you would go o—“ Seungkwan screamed. A bony, clammy hand rested on his shoulder, fingers digging into his skin. Startled, you jumped, pulling Seungkwan closer to you.

“You’re next.” A croaky voice said.

“I-I’m sorry?” You stammered, taking over for Seungkwan who seemed to have paled.

A pale woman with dark sunken eyes and graying skin, gave you a passive look over and pointed inside.

“Right.” You nodded, still shaken, and pulled Seungkwan into the tent quickly.

Warily, you eyed the space inside the tent. It small, extremely compact, with the a table smack center, the fortune teller seated right behind it. How had you not noticed the couple before you and Seungkwan leave? There was only one exit from what you could tell, and it was also the entry.

Without opening her eyes, the old woman motioned for you two to sit down. “What would you like foretold?” She whispered, her voice floating in the wind.

Both of you sat down gingerly, wringing your hands together. Unknowingly, both of you had the same question. But in front of each other, you would never be able to admit it. ‘Well this was poorly planned out.’

You stammered out a string vowels, consonants were overrated.

The old woman motioned for you to stop with the palm of her hand. Pressing your lips together tightly, you began to draw blood from bitting down on your lower lip.

“This will not last.”

“What won’t last?” You asked confusedly.

“This.” She croaked, eyes flying open and training her disinterested gaze on you. “You and him. Him and you. It will not last.”

Eyes narrowing, you were beginning to understand what she was trying to say. It was the same thing your supposed best friend had told you.

“Oh, look at him.” You nudged your friend before glancing at Seungkwan dreamily again. “He’s got such a cute blush, that fading pink just above his cheeks. I wonder what they’re talking about.” You sighed, letting your head fall against your locker.

“Well why don’t you go find out.” Your friend drawled out.

“No.” You felt the hair on your arms bristle. “I cant do that! I haven’t even spoken more than a sentence!”

Your friend huffed and slammed your locker shut, “Well if you’re not going to talk to him, then what’s the point? It’s going no where.” She waved her hand around sharply, “A-and even if you did go out with him, you’d still be acting this way! You and him,” She snarled, “it wouldn’t last.”

Your eyebrows furrowed together in anger, a grimace starting to play on your face.

“Excuse you.” Seungkwan snapped, pushing himself away from the table, “yes, you.” He continued, confronting the teller who looked at him amusedly, “You should work on your cheap tricks.” He stumbled, at a loss for words. Realizing this, you jumped in to save him.

“Jokes on you, were not, you know...were not.” You gulped, afraid of saying the wrong thing.

“Yeah!” Seungkwan nodded and grabbed you by the hand, “Let’s go, Y/N. I’m sure there’s something better to do around here,” and pulled you out of the tent without looking back.

“Is it me...,” you trailed off glancing at Seungkwan, “or are there less people here then when it opened?”

Seungkwan shrugged, “Maybe they gave up after one game. Though if there’re anything like that fortune teller, maybe they just got bored.”

You choked down a laugh, trying not to feed his....current emotions.

A minute after he had grabbed your hand pulled you out of the tent, he had quickly let go, as if suddenly disgusted with his acts. But he hadn’t apologized, he only looked away and cleared his throat. You, on the other hand, tensed and purposely pointed at a tall house that had been built on the far end of the grounds.

“So...” you cleared your throat, trying to ease into a conversation, “we’ve got ten minutes until we have to go meet up with the gang.....want to go in there?” Seungkwan had nodded despite his actual feelings on haunted houses.

That was the beginning of your downfall.

“Seungkwan?” You whispered three seconds after the front door had been shut behind you.

Illuminated by nothing more than a low blacklight, you twisted your body around, trying to squint your way to Seungkwan. Even the house’s decorations were barely visible.

Even though the lights casted a low glow on everything inside, the objects seemed to have their own dark glow.

“Y/N?” Seungkwan asked, disoriented from being pushed inside. “Where are you?”  

A hand reached out from a doorway and latched onto Seungkwan’s shoulder. He screamed and yanked it off of him. Staggering backwards, he hit the wall and tried to control his breathing.

A chorus of shrill laugher echoed down the hallway. So loud and disturbing, the laughter disoriented him and sent him staggering blindly, crashing into the corners of tables and walls.

Then a single scream ripped through the air before plunging the space into deafness.

Seungkwan tried to get his breathing under control. His chest heaved as he strained to see in the dark. A distance away he saw what seemed like rays of light coming from under a door.

Feeling a tap on his right shoulder, he gulped, “Yes?” He questioned slowly turning around.

An old hag, as clear as daylight, with sunken eye sockets and an ashy, pale face looked up at him with a small smirk. “You’re next.”

Seungkwan trembled in his shoes, unable to scream. Who the hell was this lady and why the hell had he come to a haunted house? He was in a haunted house, right? Honestly, he couldn’t even remember.

“Dude. Ride’s over get out.” A disinterested man called for his attention.

Seungkwan’s gaze moved into the direction that it had come from.  A man, much like the old hag, glared at him to get out.

“Yes, sir.” Seungkwan let out shakily. He turned back to look at the old hag, but she was gone. Quickly, Seungkwan ran out the door and let his feet carry him all the way to entrance of the grounds where he saw familiar faces standing.

“What the hell guys? What are you doing here?”

Vernon, Wonwoo, Minghao, Jeonghan and Soonyoung furrowed their eyebrows in confusion. Perplexed Vernon replied, “Shouldn’t we be asking you that, Kwannie? You hate horror.”

“I know, that’s why I’m going home now.” He nodded, already starting to speed walk back home.

“Wait up, Seungkwan.” Wonwoo jogged up to him, the others trailing behind him, “I’m going home too. This place is giving me weird vibes.”

“Seungkwan…” You whispered, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Y/N.” He reached for your hand.

“Please,” You cried as you looked over your shoulder nervously, “please don’t leave me here.” Fire began nipping at your feet, slowly crawling up your body until you were covered in flames.

Seungkwan screamed, the image of you disappearing until he was left alone in a room that was engulfed in flames.

“Y/N!” He woke up, pushing himself away from his desk, a piece of paper sticking to his cheeks. Teary eyed and rosy cheeked, he glanced down at his notebook where a to-do list had been inscribed in cursive.

To-do: 1. Ask Y/N to fair!!!! 2. Woo Y/N 3. Ask Y/N out!!!!!

“Y/N.” He read off the paper.

“Seungkwan!” You screamed, running up to him after getting back your project result. “We got an A!” You crashed into him, hugging him from behind.

Seungkwan grinned and twisted around to be able to hug you properly. “That’s great!”

“Yeah.” You grinned shyly, “I’ll see you later then.”

Seungkwan grabbed his cell from his desk and clicked on Vernon’s contact information. He tapped his foot impatiently until he picked up.

“Seungkwan? Wh—“

“Who’s Y/N?”

“Y/N? I-I don’t know…should I know?”

“Y/N!” Seungkwan came running up to your locker, face flush and a shy smile on his face. “The guys and me are going to the carnival tomorrow! Do you want to come with me— us, I mean?” He corrected himself quickly. Geez, he needed to learn how to control himself around you.

You nodded as you closed your locker with the back of your hand, “I’d have to ask my parents, but I’d say yes.”

“We have to back to the fair, right now!”

“Right now? What? Why?” Vernon’s groggy voice quickly changed into concern. For concern of his best friends mentality? Or because he could feel the panic in Seungkwan’s voice rise.

“S-something’s not right. I remember— something’s not right, alright. Get the others, meet me outside the gate, don’t let anyone see you.”

It took a whole lot of bribing and pleading to get convince Jeonghan and Minghao to agree to sneak back into the fair and explore the last clear memory that Seungkwan had. Wonwoo and Soonyoung didn’t need a bribe, the moment they were told what Seungkwan wanted to do, they agreed instantly. Both of them had a bad feeling that they was forgetting something too.

That’s how the seven of them found themselves crouched behind a stall, waiting for Jeonghan to comeback from scouting. There were no more people in the park, only workers dressed in their costumes, roaming around talking animatedly with each other.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit weird that sky is orange?”  Vernon said glancing up at the sky, “I mean, even for aesthetics it’s going to far. It’s unnatural and creepy.” He shuddered.

Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, Seungkwan shook his head and returned his attention to the haunted house where Jeonghan has sneaked into.

“Here he comes.” Soonyoung whispered happily, as Jeonghan ran back to them.

“We have to go.” He shuddered.

“What? What did you find?” Seungkwan asked him wide eyed.

“They have a room on fire! Fire!” He hissed. “If that doesn’t tell you we have to get out, I don’t know what will.”

Fire? You were surrounded by fire in his dream. It was a long shot, and perhaps one of the stupidest things he had ever chosen to do that came from his own ideas, but, he knew he had to know if you were real or not because his racing heart would not forgive him.

Before they could convince him otherwise, Seungkwan pouted and said like in the disaster movies he used to watch, “Oh my god,” before taking off into the haunted house.

Before he could regret it, he slammed the door behind himself and took in a shuddering breath.

The house was lit with candles, though the initial feeling he had gotten still hadn’t changed. A door, that almost blended into the wall, was slightly ajar. A glowing light was emanating from it and he could only hope that was where Jeonghan had sneaked into.

The rattling of the front door spoked him, so he took off yet again, except this time into the door that looked like no one should know existed.

Instantly he was hit with an intense heat. The further he walked down the spiral staircase, the hotter it got and the brighter the light burned. Then his feet hit level ground in an empty room.

“Hello?” He whispered, trying to figure out if there was another door he could go through.

“Seungkwan! What the hell!” Jeonghan’s hissed, sneaking up behind him. Seungkwan screamed. He really hadn’t been expecting them to follow him, so when he turned around and saw them all standing behind him, he had freaked.

“We have to go.” Jeonghan snapped, grabbing him by the elbow and dragging him toward the staircase. “I heard them say they’d be back in five—“

A loud rumble interrupted his explanation and caused them to turn their back on the stairs again. The walls they had seen began giving way, fire licking the floor where the walls had stood. Behind them, cages filled with people still in costumes and slowly suffocating to death.

“Oh my—“

“Seungkwan?” A croak.

Seungkwan turned in the direction had come from. It was you; one look in your eyes and the memories came flooding back.

“Y/N.” He rushed the cage, pulling at the lock frantically without success.  

“Stop.” Vernon shuddered, running over with a set of keys he had stolen off a table, and unlocked the cage before moving to the others.

You limped to Seungkwan, falling into his arms when extended his arms to you. Without opening your eyes, you could feel as he basically pulled you out of the room as the heat got less and less intense.

“You came back.” You whimpered when Seungkwan began running a hand down your back. “H-he said they had erased your memories. Y-you’re not supposed to remember m-me.”

“Like hell…sorry, bad choice of words.” You smiled sadly at him, opening your eyes to look at him. “This is horrible first date, isn’t it?”

“First date?”

He nodded sheepishly, “I was going to ask you when I dropped you off at home, if….you know.”

You nodded at him, smiling.

“Oh, how sweet.” You tensed. It was him. That man who led all these monsters.

Slowly you turned around, recoiling at the sight of the leader’s glowing plague doctor’s mask. He titled his head like a bird would, red eyes locking onto anything and everything.

“How far are we from the exit?” You whispered at Seungkwan, grabbing his hand.

“Not far.” Seungkwan breathed, trying not to shake. “Why?”

“There people can’t stop talking.” You shuddered at the memory of another fair monster, one with a very linear chin that protruded at the sides, fixing it with a permanent grin.

“They say a little too much.” Seungkwan shook his head, thoughts too jumbled to decipher what you meant. “They can’t leave fair grounds, they can’t even touch the gate.”

“Interesting plan you have there.” The bird man screeched, sending out a blast of heat from his cane. “Though, I can’t allow you to do that. You see, I’m awfully peckish.” You couldn’t see his eyes, just the taunting red glass that sent shivers down your spine; and yet you could tell he was twitching by the way his head twitched in its own way.

“And so are my friends.” He laughed, motioning his friends to the front. “Get them.”

“Run.” You screamed at Seungkwan, trying hard to ignore the burning of your lungs.

Seungkwan, noticing your trouble with breathing, tightened his hold on your hand began pulling you faster, ducking as a bird swopped down.

He pushed you through the gate as a the bony old woman from before extended her arm and her fingers stretched like snakes.

Together you pushed the gate shut and searched for something to tie around it.

“Over there!” Seungkwan pointed at a costumed rope belt, and running to grab it.

You nodded and hurried to tie it around the gate. Stepping backwards when the plague doctor stepped up to the gate. But instead of trying to get out, he took oh his mask and glared at you.

“You chose him over me.” The boy from before. “I’ll be sure to take my revenge when some idiots comes and opens the gate. You mortals are good for that.”

“You can’t do that. Halloween is over, you’ll disappear until next year and this town will never forget this.” You hissed, before pulling Seungkwan away and trying not to look back.

An hour later, you were laying in bed with Seungkwan at your side.

“Someone’s going to open that door.” Seungkwan whispered, rubbing your circles into your back, but shaking himself.

“Whomever opens that damn door.” You shuddered before curling deeper into him, trying to forget the mans and his disturbing mask. “Is an idiot and is going to pay hell a visit.”

A loud screech thundered though the town and everyone shuddered, diving deeper into their covers, not ready to revisit the past.

[hoziersmoon]

An Idiot’s Romance

Summary: So. Steve’s not the smoothest person.  Which is why he’s currently knocking on Sam Wilson’s door and groaning, “Sam, I’m hopeless.” as soon as the door swings open. Sam just rolls his eyes and lets Steve in. “That is not new information. What happened?” 

So Steve recounts the events of the morning with Sam listening patiently and only teasing a little bit. “You know Steve, I’m going to write a biography about you one day and I’m gonna make millions because no one will believe that Captain America is so hopelessly in love with his best friend that he turns into a middle schooler with a crush.”

aka the one where steve realizes he’s in love with bucky and THEN remembers how bad he is at flirting.

read under the cut or on ao3 here

The truth is that Steve’s never been a smooth or romantic guy.

 When he’d been younger, he’d been even more awkward than he was now. The only dates he ever went on were ones that Bucky had snagged for the two of them and during those times, he usually managed to embarrass himself by stepping on the girl’s feet or spilling his drink on her.

 He’d always been slightly envious of Bucky who carried himself with such careless elegance and could convince even the shyest girl to dance with him with just a flash of that charming smile. Steve knew what it felt like to have that smile directed at him and he was probably the most susceptible to it- he couldn’t count the number of times Bucky had convinced him to do something stupid by using that grin on him.

 When Steve got bigger, he wasn’t any less awkward. The world seemed to think that since he got up on stage constantly, that he must be pretty confident off of the stage too. They were all surprised when they met him in real life by how little he spoke and by how awkward he could be.

 He liked that Peggy called him out on it- that she saw him for who he was. And while the Howlies respected his orders during battle, they would tease him mercilessly for how shy he was when they got a chance to go to a bar or to a dance hall.

 Now, in the future Steve is only slightly less awkward. His likes hanging out with Sam or Natasha because they never expect him to be who the world sees, never expect him to be Captain America when he doesn’t want to be.

 And now that he has Bucky back, he can be himself with him too. Steve thinks that he’s never more himself than he is when he’s around Bucky. Even now, seventy years later, after all that they’ve been through- all the fighting, the forgetting and the falling- Bucky still feels like home.

 But the thing is that lately, Steve has begun to confront what Bucky really means to him. He feels a little braver about his feelings in this shiny, new future. He lets himself think about the fact that he’s always loved Bucky. He loved him when they were just a couple of dumb kids, loved him through the war, loved him when Bucky didn’t even know who Steve was and he lets himself admit that he loves Bucky now.

 This revelation is a problem, however.

 Because now that Steve has admitted to himself that he loves Bucky, he’s become a mess whenever he tries to interact with his best friend.

 For instance, just this morning he was sitting in the kitchen reading the newspaper when Bucky walked in. Not a big deal, right? Wrong. Apparently, anything Bucky did these days affected Steve more than he wanted to admit. So when he walked into the kitchen, clad in boxers and a Black Widow tank top, tying his messy hair into a bun at the nape of his neck- well. Steve needed to take a deep breath to collect himself.

 He gave Steve a sleepy smile as he headed for the coffee pot, mumbling “Mornin’,” As he opened the cabinet to get a coffee mug, the metal plates in his arm shifted and his tank top rode up to expose his stomach.

 Steve quickly turned his attention back to his newspaper as he felt his neck turn red. He cleared his throat, “Morning, Buck.”

 Bucky walked over with his coffee, sitting down at the table next to Steve. He yawned and said, “I don’t know why the fuck you get up early, Steve.”

 “It’s 9am.”

 “Yeah, yeah.” He gave Steve a little wink over the rim of his mug. “I guess you got to sleep for 70 years. We’re not all so lucky, pal.”

Steve rolled his eyes, “Funny.” He took a bite of his toast and said, “Are you up to anything today?”

 He shrugged, “Might go to the shooting range with Clint or something.” Bucky gave Steve an exasperated look as he finished chewing his toast, “I swear to God, Rogers, your Ma would smack you over the head if she saw you eating like that.”

 “Like what?”

 “You’ve got jam all over your face, you idiot,” he said fondly, “C’mere.” He leaned over the table, closer to Steve and reached up with his right hand to swipe some jam off the corner of Steve’s mouth. Steve watched with wide eyes and a blush rising on his cheeks as Bucky sucked the jam off of his own thumb saying, “Mmm, strawberry.” He winked at Steve again.

 Steve stood up all of a sudden, chair clattering to the floor as he jumped up. “I gotta-g-” He picked the chair up as he spoke, setting it down much rougher than he need it to. “I, um,”

 Bucky raised an eyebrow, looking a little startled. “You okay there?”

 “Yes!” Steve said, voice unnecessarily loud. “I just remembered I gotta go do- um I have to, do, um...Sam!”

 The corner of Buck’s mouth quirked, “You have to go do Sam?”

 “See Sam.” Steve laughed nervously, “I completely forgot.” He headed for the door, tugging his shoes on quickly. “Okay, well, bye then.” He laughed again, sounding a little manic.

 Ignoring the confused look Bucky was giving him, he closed the door behind him and slumped against the closed door, slapping his palm against his forehead and groaning at himself.

 So. Steve’s not the smoothest person.

 Which is why he’s currently knocking on Sam Wilson’s door and groaning, “Sam, I’m hopeless.” as soon as the door swings open.

 Sam just rolls his eyes and lets Steve in. “That is not new information. What happened?”

 So Steve recounts the events of the morning with Sam listening patiently and only teasing a little bit. “You know Steve, I’m going to write a biography about you one day and I’m gonna make millions because no one will believe that Captain America is so hopelessly in love with his best friend that he turns into a middle schooler with a crush.”

 Steve flips him off without lifting his head from where he’s face planted in the counter. “Are you done?”

 “Yeah, okay.” Sam says, “So what I’m hearing is that you need a lesson in flirting. When’s the last time you flirted with someone?”

 Steve turns red, “Um.” At Sam’s raised eyebrows, he mumbles something into his arm.

 “Could you speak up, Romeo?”

 Steve sighs and says, “Okay -please don’t laugh- but the last person I flirted with was, uh, you?” It ends up sounding like a question.

 Sam laughs at him anyway, “Where was I when this alleged flirting happened?”

 Steve glares at him a little.“When we first met. Ya know like... ‘on your left’.”

 Sam gives him an incredulous look. “You flirted with me by running laps around me and then reminding me how slow I was?”

 “I was trying to impress you!” Steve exclaims.

 “Is that why your shirt was two sizes too small?”

 “Nat said it looked good and that it might help my situation.” Steve says sheepishly.

 “Was it also Nat’s idea to roll up in a fancy ass car?” Sam asks, looking thoroughly amused at the whole situation.

 “Maybe.” He crosses his arms, “But this isn’t helping, Sam!”

 “Okay, okay. Maybe we should scratch the flirting, then.” He thinks for a second and says, “You know that my solution to everything is music. Specifically, Marvin Gaye. You’ll get laid instantly.”

 “I am not serenading Bucky, Sam. I can’t sing for the life of me, that’s Buck’s thing. He’s always had a really nice voice, ya know? And-”

 Sam holds up one hand, “I’m gonna stop the pinning right there. Who said anything about serenading? Ask him to dance. Actually, you know what? You have no rhythm.” Steve huffs but doesn’t deny it. Sam continues, “Ask him to teach you to dance!”

 Steve wrinkles his nose, “I don’t know, Sam.”

 “Why? You got a better idea, hotshot?” Sam asks, “Oh I know! I think I have one of my nephew’s shirts lying around. You wanna go home wearing that?”

 Steve groans. “Fine! I’ll try it.”

 “Good.” Sam nods in satisfaction and opens his phone. “I’m gonna find a good song right now.”

 “Thanks.” Steve says, and then, “Hey. Wait a second- didn’t you suggest Marvin Gaye to me when we first met?”

 “Did I?” Sam doesn’t look up from his phone, “Hmm.”

 ***

 So Steve spends some more time with Sam, discussing exactly what he wants to say when he gets home. Sam kicks him out when Steve suggests writing up a script for what he’s gonna say.

 He gets home in the afternoon and finds a note on the counter in Bucky’s neat handwriting.

 At the range with Clint. Be home in the evening.

 He smiles fondly at the note, feeling a little brave after his conversation with Sam. He had also suggested that Steve make supper for Bucky because “What man doesn’t love a homemade supper?” So Steve decides to make a run to the grocery store to get some supplies.

 The thing is, Steve is pretty sure that Bucky is flirting with him. Who just seductively sucks jam off of their thumb like that? And he feels like Buck’s always finding some kind of excuse to touch him, a hand on the small of his back when they’re moving around each other in the apartment or an arm around his shoulder when they’re watching television.

 Steve has seen Bucky’s moves, he knows how he likes to flirt. He’s seen him tease and wink at girls more times than he’s wanted to. The problem is that Bucky’s always teased and winked at Steve- it’s just how he’s always talked to Steve. And he’d never read into it before, never wanted to really, but now. Now he read into everything Bucky did or said. Sam was right- Steve was a middle schooler.

 Steve gets everything he wanted at the store- chicken, some veggies. He wants to keep it simple. What could go wrong with chicken and veggies? Apparently, a lot.

 After Steve gets back to the apartment, he turns on the oven to preheat it. He figures he doesn’t need a recipe, and sets to work chopping up the vegetables. While he’s chopping an onion, Steve begins to daydream a little.

 What will Bucky think when he gets home? How will he take Steve’s suggestion to dance? And if he does, how will he dance with him? Steve hopes it’s slow and gentle, those strong arms tucked around his waist, the scent of him so close and familiar. Would Buck kiss him? Would- fuck.

 Steve looks down and sees that he’s cut himself with the knife. It doesn’t hurt but he’s bleeding onto the veggies he’s cut already. He groans and decides to stick the chicken in the oven while he goes to wrap up the finger he cut. He grabs the bandages with pictures of a cartoon Hulk from under the sink and wraps a couple around his finger.

 As he’s finishing he realizes that he’s still in his pyjamas from the morning and that his hair is a mess. So he runs to the bedroom and pulls on a pair of jeans and the first shirt he can find that’s relatively clean. He’s about to fix his hair when a loud beeping noise fills the apartment and fuck. Steve’s forgotten about the chicken.

 When he opens the oven door, he realizes he completely forgot to grease the pan and the chicken is burnt on one side and is sticking to the pan. Great.

 “Idiot.” He says to himself. “Stupid, stup-”

 “Why are you burning down our kitchen, Rogers.”

 Steve jumps and turns to see Bucky standing there, shaking his head with a smile on his face. “Um,” Steve says, “I was trying to make supper. Oops?”

 “What kind of sauce is on those veggies, pal?”

 “It’s blood.” Steve says, defeat in his voice.

 “Of course it is.” Bucky says. “It’s okay, let’s just order in, okay?”

 And Steve all of a sudden feels so tired. Tonight was supposed to be the perfect night. He’s gone seventy years pretending he wasn’t in love with Bucky and he’d been so ready and excited to make a move.  And he realizes, looking at Bucky’s fond smile, the dimple in his chin, that he doesn’t feel nervous anymore. He doesn’t care whether Bucky loves him back or not, or whether the night is going how he planned- he just wants to spend time with Bucky any way he can.

 So instead of answering his question he asks. “Hey, Buck, will you teach me how to dance? I never got a hang of it when we were younger.”

 And instead of waiting for an answer he goes to the living room and turns on the song that Sam had chosen, lets the song fill their apartment. He goes over to Bucky, who still looks a little confused and tugs him into the living room. “C’mon,” he says again standing in front of him, “Teach me.”

 There’s an odd, searching look in Bucky’s eyes and he’s not saying anything. But he eventually takes Steve’s hands that are hanging awkwardly by his side and sets one on Bucky’s shoulder and holds one in his flesh hand. The metal hand comes to rest on Steve’s waist and then- they’re moving, together. Steve lets Bucky lead completely, feeling safe and content in a way he hasn’t in a long time. Bucky steps closer so that their cheeks are pressed together and the moment feels infinite but then all of a sudden the song is over. The song is over but Bucky isn’t letting go.

 Steve moves his head to look at Bucky, see what he can figure out from those beautiful blue eyes. Bucky meets his gaze and suddenly Steve feels seventeen again- in love with his best friend, too scared to act on it. But he remembers himself, feels the seventy years he spent away from Bucky slam into him all at once and he thinks about how someone could fall from your grasp at any moment and how stupid he is for overthinking all these years. So he stops thinking- he acts.

 He leans down and kisses him- his best friend, his heart, his Bucky. And he knows, as soon as he does it that it’s right. Because Bucky doesn’t miss a beat and kisses him back and it’s everything Steve has waited his whole life for.

 They pull back and Steve says, “Ok, Sam was right. You can never go wrong with Marvin Gaye.”

 Bucky laughs loudly and pulls Steve back in for another kiss. “You’re an idiot, ya know that?” He mumbles against Steve’s lips. “It’s okay, though. You’re my idiot.”

[scio-is-a-story]

East 11/24

Continued from West 11/22

When were they going to stop talking about politics? Of course it was nice to see Auntie June and Uncle Patrick, but when Auntie June and Uncle Patrick just went on and on with Mom about taxes, was she really seeing them enough for it to count? And it wasn’t even like Auntie June and Uncle Patrick had kids, cousins for Lilibeth to feel obliged to entertain and have more young people conversations with. She and Amanda had been placed opposite one another at the far end of the table from everyone else, so for them, it was like there was no more company than at the dinner table on any other day. Being kicked in the feet repeatedly by her younger sister was not Jess’s idea of a good, exciting, warm, happy holiday meal.

“Well, little Miss Amanda,” Uncle Patrick said suddenly, turning to face them, “What have you been doing since I last saw you, eh? Any sports you can beat me at yet?”

Amanda paused with her fork in the air. She furrowed her eyebrows. “In gym class at the beginning of the year we were doing soccer but the guys never pass me the ball even though I was okay at that but now they want us to play floor hockey and -”

“No, sweetheart,” their mother cut in, “He means, what are you doing after school? You don’t really do after school sports, do you, sweetheart, but you’ve been doing some other things? Tell him about those.”

“Yeah.” Amanda stopped and ate another forkful, as though she thought that was a full enough response, but their mother looked at Amanda expectantly.

“Well?”

Amanda swallowed and added a little bit more detail. “I’m on the science team and I have to study so we’ll be good and we’ll win the competition and go to more competitions.”

Lilibeth couldn’t help it. “There’s a middle school competition and a high school competition -” she began.

“Oh, yes, Patrick, Lilibeth does it too, you see. Lilibeth was on the States team last year, and they almost went to Nationals, and now she’s one of the captains of their team, and Amanda is following in her footsteps, we’re so proud.”

“No, Mom,” whined Amanda, “I would’ve done it anyway. Lilibeth didn’t do it in middle school anyway and we’re more better than the other teams than they are!”

“And, really, I’m only the secretary, it’s more logistic stuff than actual leadership. The execs are both seniors, they’re in charge.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Lilibeth, I never can remember any of that terminology you use. You’d better explain all of it to your Uncle Patrick and Auntie June, I would get too many things wrong, neither of you would ever forgive me,” their mother laughed, but Lilibeth was fine with that. Science Olympiad was one topic she was fine with speaking about for ages.

“So, basically, at competitions there are about 20 separate ‘events’ the team does. Some of those are building events - I’ve never done those, but the people who do, they’ll, say, build a car that goes a specific distance the fastest. Sometimes they have specific materials, I don’t know. And then there are also study events - Amanda and I do more studying stuff -”

“I don’t just study, I tried out for Crime Busters!”

Auntie June laughed. “Do they all have funny names like that?”

“Some of them have stupid names. Like Anatomasomething. Who even cares about that.”

Lilibeth winced. “Okay, so Crime Busters, that’s one where there’s a kind of activity you do, like a lab, in the competition. And then I think Amanda meant Anatomy and Physiology, which I do and which is actually really interesting, I get to learn about the human body, and this year I’ve been studying the endocrine system a lot which is really something I wouldn’t know otherwise. But overall, study events, that just means we learn a lot, and take notes, and then we take a test on it. It’s a great experience.” She smiled at Uncle Patrick.

“You take tests for fun?” Uncle Patrick asked incredulously.

“Shh, Patrick, imagine how much they’re learning, how good it’ll be for their careers.”

Lilibeth just smiled sweetly, not bothering to pull her mother out of her delusion. Adults were always thinking things like that. They didn’t make any sense. Loads of people did Science Olympiad, and not all of them became amazing scientists, and plenty of people did science-related things that were way better than Science Olympiad, so how could Science Olympiad possibly benefit them like that? Lilibeth did Science Olympiad because it was fun and interesting and social and she believed in her team. But whatever, let the adults believe what they wanted.

“But, like, the point of the competition,” she resumed her explanation, “is that in each event, they rank all of the teams, from first place down to however many teams there are, and then they add up the scores across all the events to decide which team comes first overall - like, if you come in first place in one event, then that’s 1 point, and if you come in second, that’s 2 points, and yeah.”

“I’m sorry honey,” Auntie June broke in again, “What were these events again? Why does Amanda not do that thing you do, that thing she couldn’t pronounce?”

Lilibeth was really enjoying this. She was decent at explaining it, she thought, in fact. “Like, there are 20 different mini competitions - those are the ‘events’ - and the team can only put a couple of people in each mini competition. You work with your partner to take the test - or build the thing, I guess, or whatever the goal is. And the points that pair gets in that event, ranked relative to the points other teams get in that event, they can get medals personally for that and then the ranking becomes the team’s score for that area. And there are 18 people on the team. So, like, not everyone does every event. Most people do like 3. And then you get to become really good at those 3.”

“And your team is the best?”

“Well...” That was always an awkward question. Really the correct answer was that Lilibeth hoped that would turn out to be true.

“Our team is the best but the high schoolers are baaaad and lose-ers.”

“Amanda, shut up. We’ve come first in the state many times in the past. Just because the middle school team has been the New Jersey champion for longer doesn’t mean we’re worse when the competition’s so much harder for high school. Anyway, this year, I’m an officer, so I’m trying to run things better than in the past, and I’m really hoping we’re going to win again. We have a chance.”

“That’s my girl! Although I still would have preferred if you were saying that about a basketball team or something.” Well. Salt. As though Lilibeth needed to be reminded that what she did was considered less legitimate than what other people did. The school wouldn’t give them as much funding, they only had one coach, people spent a lot of time working in each other’s basements or at the library because they didn’t have access to anywhere better. But it was a family dinner with people they didn’t get to see much, so she wouldn’t say anything rude. Same as earlier when the adults were discussing “important political stuff” that they assumed she wouldn’t know anything about, she hadn’t spoken during that.

“But, Uncle Patrick, me planning to win doesn’t really mean anything. There’s this other team in the state, the other local high school, and they’ve come first in the state tournament for the past 2 years. And they were generally second in the previous years, close behind us even when we did win. And we’re gonna have to work so hard if we want to win again, and I don’t know how well we can catch up.” Her voice was rising in pitch and her words sped up, but she wasn’t finished. “They have a lot of really dedicated upperclassmen, who have experience, even Nats-level experience - I don’t know them personally but I’ve seen them at competition. And so dedicated. Plus their juniors aren’t bad, I think they did a lot of the placing at States last year. I swear, even if they’re not a studier, there’s this one junior who has some of the same events as me and it’s really really possible they might beat me and that would be really really bad even though they’re a wonderful person!”

“Are they cute?” asked Amanda, suddenly perked up.

Why did she think that? In what way was that relevant?

“Ha!” erupted Uncle Patrick, “Star-crossed lover or some bullshit, eh? This boy from the other team, does he know you like him that much? Make sure to kick his ass anyway, though, yeah.”

“I’m not - it’s not actually - no, like, it’s just that -” Lilibeth tried to begin, but she knew she was blushing. Not that it meant anything, but whenever somebody accused you of having a crush on somebody you blushed no matter what the truth was, right?

“Patrick! Is that really appropriate language?” chided Auntie June.

The conversation moved on with other topics - there was no way the children would be able to remain in the conversation long, ever, that wouldn’t be allowed, of course not - but Jess kept thinking about it. What had gotten her so worked up about Science Olympiad - why was she so afraid of Jess in particular beating her?

And really, why had they assumed that Jess was a guy?

Continue to West 11/22