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we-always-hit-our-ass · 4 years ago

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Pecks and Clementines (George Luz x Reader)

Author’s Note: After this, I’ll shortly open my inbox so please stay tuned! I apologize in advance if any of my lovely readers are allergic or dislike clementines hnhh. Also also- I love you guys, that is all.

Warnings: just a few swear words, nothin’ too major +its pretty fuckin long cause ahaha slowwww burn with luz hnghh

Words: 7.1k (my essays are quaking)

Description: A simple interaction shared between you and George leaves him enamored and he finds himself having feelings for you. You soon follow suit. Who knew giving clementines could get you someone as amazing as George?

Taglist: @deldontplay, @thatsonefishyboi,@noneofurbusinez, @meteora-fc, @gutsandgloryhere, @hihosilvers, @rayleighshughes, @floydtab, @wexhappyxfew, @sherlollydramoine, @meganthesunflower, @3milesup, @jamie506101, @sunflowerchuck, @softlieb, @k-websters, @punkgeekchic, @speirs-crazy-ass, @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant, @runtdrummer, @fromtheoldtimes

+if ya wanna be added, dont be afraid to send an ask or dm!

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A gesture was all it took.

What happened wasn’t even something intimate; it was more of a touch that was commonly shared by acquaintances or strangers rather than lovers. To briefly put it, that gesture was just you offering him a clementine. He remembers how he was fixed upon the bright orange clementine in your soft hand, ripe and just begging to be peeled and eaten.

A kind, old woman generously handed you plenty back in England and so you thought you’d share. George was the nearest to you and so he was the first one who received the sweet citrus fruit, something he never thought he’d be thankful for.

Passing it along to him, you thought nothing of the interaction as a mere act of kindness. However it felt like so much more. How an act as simple as that made him burst into flames is an enigma. Not to mention how your hand ever so softly brushed against his. The touch lingering mere moments longer after the deed was done and George couldn’t help but feel just a tad disappointed when it finally disappeared.

He didn’t even know if he felt it... But he did, and with that one coincidental incident--he was hooked. A magnetizing presence was what you had, and like a piece of metal, George was instantly drawn to you.

Who wouldn’t?

There was something unique about you, something he had never seen or experienced before. That moment back in England felt so far away but also felt like it just occurred yesterday. The technician thought about you for weeks, the beautiful and more than capable soldier who put up with the company.

(Y/N) (L/N)... (Y/N) (L/N), he kept repeating in his head, your name ingrained in his head and it spilling out of his lips like a mantra. Thoughts about you in his head bouncing around like how a ball would when thrown against a surface.

The young man couldn’t identify how to describe how he felt, what he was experiencing only categorized as a deep and sensual longing. Of course George knew that it was way more than a passing fancy, for it was exponentially deeper. Complicated were the feelings of love, and George was yet another who got caught in the mystery of it.

His heart fluttered whenever his honey brown eyes laid upon yours, that radiant (E/C) hue that seemed to reveal your innermost secrets yet simultaneously concealing them from the outside world. Of course for the past few months of his newfound attraction towards you, he’d dismiss it as nothing serious.

But one cannot plainly deny fate and George soon accepted that fact. Now, he made more of an effort to see you--to interact more with the woman who’d captured his heart. But moments with you were scarce, making it even more a reason to cherish and savor them for as much as he could.

Easy Company had been staying in Normandy, the events of D-Day all too fresh on everyone’s minds. A break was what they needed and the men indulged themselves in the quiet and peaceful moments before they would move out again. They were stationed in a quaint town where they were now resting.

Perconte was showing off the many watches he had snagged from dead soldiers to Blithe, who was only silent and once again zoning out. Banter was frequent and it comforted the both of you, a homey and cozy feeling enveloping your forms. But all good things come to an end and Welsh had told the company that they would be capturing a town called Carentan. Welsh had just informed the men, who were still tired and perhaps a bit sluggish, that General Taylor would be sending the whole division for this.

“Remember boys, maybe three days and three nights of rough fightin', and you will be relieved!'" George rang out towards the group. The ebony haired man receiving a few laughs and an especially amused look from 2nd Lieutenant Welsh as well. George cracked a smile of his own as he continued.

“Another thing to remember boys, flies spread disease, so keep yours closed.” Laughs were plentiful then, one soldier even jokingly telling him to shut up.

Then… That’s when he heard it--your laugh. George had never heard anything more beautiful in his entire life, and for once in the war, he felt like he was floating his way to heaven. He never noticed you were so close to him, as he was preoccupied mimicking the General himself. George let his jaw go slack and gazed at your twinkling eyes, your lips still stretched in a smile. His own orbs never left your form and while his mouth was parted, no words came out.

“Ello, Georgie, you were imitating Taylor a lil while ago, what’cha mimicking now? A rock?” A devilish grin was on your face and George felt himself heat up, a light rouge color dusting his cheeks.

You chuckled as you walked alongside him with the rest of the men. The technician’s eyes only widened for a second before reverting to their normal size. “For your information Corporal (L/N), I was imitating a soldier who was left speechless from looking at a beauty.”

After his remark, it was your turn to flush. Turning your head sideways so as to not let George see your face from picking up any more color. Triumphant and feeling a bit proud in himself for making you react like that, George nudged you and you were met with a smirk. You two stuck by each other’s sides as you and the rest of the company kept on marching to their next destination, butterflies in your stomach the whole journey through.

Happiness was what you felt, and you found yourself experiencing them when you were with George. Silence took over you both, it was comfortable and quiet, even if the rest of the boys weren’t. For George, it wasn’t like him to be silent--little did you know that he was only like that because he was far too afraid to embarrass himself.

Prior confidence be damned, the poor boy was reduced to a puddle when around you, and you could say the same about yourself when you were around him too (you were just a tad bit better at keeping your composure than George).

Deciding to strike up another conversation with him, you looked up at him and your two eyes met for a short time before turning back to face forward again. “You all good, Georgie?”

“I’m good.” Warm hazel eyes glanced at your being next to his, the corners of his lips tugging into another one of his dopey smiles.

The way the sun played upon your hair, the beams reflected on it making it seem like you had a halo, and after taking note of that his smile only grew bigger. “Very good, (Y/N).”

And George knew that no amount of his jokes or imitations could hide the fact that he was head over heels.

------------

Carentan was nothing short of traumatic, it was something else and the thought of it left a foul taste on George’s tongue. It made him queasy just thinking about it and while he knew these sorts of things would happen, George would rather much prefer if these events were shoved deep in the back of his brain.

A lot of things kept his mind running though, like Skip’s hilarious recountings of what he did in his hometown, Johnny’s quips and sarcastic comments, and Guarnere chipping in his opinion on obscure matters. And of course, how could he forget you sitting right beside him--so close it was almost unbearable. You two joined in whatever conversation the men close to you were having and George felt as if he’d been blessed every time you giggled at one of his jokes.

Then all the sudden Smokey was reciting a poem he had made, much to the chagrin of Talbert and Smith. “Night of the Bayonet” as he had called it, and George exhaled air out his nose the moment he started speaking. Talbert and Smith were good-natured about it though, and every time Gordon finished a rhyme, a chorus of light chuckles followed. It was amusing, seeing one of your fellow soldiers like this and you were grinning throughout the entire thing.

“Never knew Smokey was Shakespeare.” You comment under your breath, and George perked up almost immediately as soon as your melodious voice flowed to his ears.

“Neither did I, but we’re all full of surprises aren’t we?” George playfully replied, reveling in the smile you sent his way before turning back to the standing soldier. Smokey went on in the background, making everyone in the mess hall chuckle.

Finishing his poem, with a slightly embarrassed Talbert and Smith still trained on his figure, Smokey took off his Purple Heart and announced how he’ll give it to Talbert. The mess hall erupted in whoops and cheers as Gordon handed it to a more than gleeful Tab. The atmosphere was right, and it was all smiles and laughs, how glad George was that Carentan was far behind them. Conversations danced in the air, easily coming out and before George could engage a talk with you, Lipton’s voice filled the air.

Words ceased and heads turned, their attention fixed on the Sergeant.

“Couple of announcements, men.”

“And woman.” George turned his head at you, his head of soft, dark hair taking up most of your vision.

His quiet comment and signature smile made you a bit more relaxed as you had quite stiffened up ever since Lip stood up. You playfully smack his arm and George raises his hands in a faux surrendering motion. The young man sticking his tongue playfully at you as you mockingly rolled your eyes before reverting your attention back to Lipton.

Apparently, their training had been canceled and you wrapped your arms around Babe (the replacement who you and Guarnere quickly got along with) and George briefly while cheering, the latter returning the gesture. Not even a second later, Lipton then announced how their passes were revoked. Smiles turn into light frowns and George’s happy mood deflates, he could feel your arms slowly dropping from his shoulders.

To further add salt to the wound, Easy Company wouldn’t be returning back to England. They were heading back to France, and they had to pack up all their gear and get a move on. Plans you had hoped to do in England were now unceremoniously pushed out of the window, your eyebrows now furrowed hard. You puffed your cheeks out in annoyance and in quiet exasperation as the building turned silent.

George and you exchanged glances at one another, George mouthing ‘what the fuck?’. That made you chuckle louder than you expected and during the Sergeant's announcements, and few men craned over to where you were, giving you a confused glance. Your head dipped from slight embarrassment and you teasingly glared at Luz, who only mouthed back a simple ‘not my fault’, which in return you softly elbowed his upper arm.

“As you were,” and with that, Lipton’s announcements were concluded.

Everybody remained silent for just a little bit longer, seemingly trying to process the new information, but it wasn’t long before chatter rose up. The table, however, was noticeably not the same old happy table they were before. Skip and Luz only looked down and you glanced at black haired individual, thinking of ways to cheer him up.

“Hopefully there’ll be sweet old ladies who give out a store’s worth of clementines in France too,” you said while nudging the technician.

The way you had said was almost wistful, dreamy even, as if you genuinely hoped that you would get at least one of the fruits that you have come to love. Luz immediately mentally makes a note to get you some soon.

George immediately let a wide beaming smile fill his face, his head replaying the memory of you ever so graciously handing him one--the moment where he realized that he had become smitten by you. In a singular moment, you noticed how the whole table seemed to brighten up. What you didn't notice was how George’s gleaming eyes were glazed and a light pink color situated itself on his cheeks.

“(Y/N), of course there’s plenty of them in France. I’m just not sure if they’ll give any to you though.” You feigned hurt at George’s joke, dramatically wiping nonexistent tears as you pretend to not stand George’s presence any longer.

Like a sappy movie, George imitated a heartbroken man and you broke your act, laughing hard at George’s ridiculous imitation. That same warm feeling returned to his chest seeing you clutching your stomach, laughing heartily at something he did.

It was surreal, transcending all human comprehension.

Skip and Martin were caught up conversing on a subject George couldn’t care less about and Guarnere and Heffron seemed to click instantly and they discussed things back in Philadelphia. Recovering from your fit of laughter was no easy task and you begged George to stop messing around or else you wouldn’t be able to breathe.

“You’ll make history Corporal (Y/N), can you imagine--the first soldier to die of laughter rather than a battle wound.”

“And you Luz--the first soldier without a brain to survive a war.”

Proudly smirking at his widened eyes and gaping mouth, it was beautiful seeing it bloom into another one of his charming grins. With no one really paying you two any mind, your smile to George felt different. No longer was it friendly, it felt almost more at that moment. In the frame of just a few seconds, you knew that there was something else.

The chatting in the background kept you tied down to Earth before you could further float away in the moment you and George silently shared. You two were just chatting mere seconds ago, so why now does George look so…? Look so handsome, why now do you only notice that? It was nothing, it was natural to acknowledge an attractive person, and so you paid no mind to that fluttering feeling located deep inside of you.

Clinking from the white porcelain dishes snapped you out of you and George’s reveries and you blinked a multitude of times to get a sense of what just happened. Skip ruffled your hair as if to catch your attention, and it worked.

“The “I’ve-Been-Scared-Shitless-by-the-Ghost-of-my-Great-Uncle” look doesn’t really suit you two.” Skip had said to you as he finished messing up your hair, you turned to give him a deadly look only for it to look like a pout--which he laughed at.

George stood up from the bench and situated himself next Skip before gracefully putting his arms around his shoulders in an exaggerated manner.

“Are you done shitting on the face my mother gave me or is there something else, Mr. Warren ‘My-Dick-was-Baptized-in-the-Niagara-River’ Muck?”

Skip quirked his eyebrows up at George, and a sound that seemed like a combination of a snort and an ambulance left the dirty blonde man. Amused and cheery, the three of you erupt in a burst of subtle chuckles and your exuberant beam dies as you three begin to quiet down.

“Well, if you two weren’t so busy ogling each other, we’re goin’ out already. Need to pack our bags and head out to France, just our luck.” Skip’s thumb pointed to the exit, a steady flow of soldiers already heading out the wooden door.

You grumble quietly, remembering what Lipton had said prior to all this and George couldn’t help but notice your slightly sour mood. Skip was well ahead of you and George, as the both of you took your time getting ready to leave. That same comfortable silence in which you two were so familiar with encompassed you both, but it was slightly dampened from that inconspicuous frown you brandished on your lips.

Finally standing up and smoothing down the wrinkles that have accumulated on your skirt from sitting down, your gaze fell to George. He was patient and didn’t mind waiting for you, but on his face a concerned expression makes itself known.

You attempted to reassure him with a smile, which only seemed to make his eyebrows furrow more. Walking towards the exit and subtly pushing your way through the soldiers by the door, you spoke up about your worries and frustrations.

“I’m just upset, y’know?” Your hands gestured to yourself before falling limply to your side, the both of you subconsciously walked back to the barracks--already having memorized the path to it.

“Oh wow, who would've guessed? Jesus Christ (Y/N), your frown is as noticeable as Malarker’s hair.”

George’s response made you blow out air from your nose, your tense soldiers relaxing before they went stiff again. The raven haired technician placed a reassuring hand on the back of your neck, immediately relieving you.

“But don’t you think it’s too soon?” You questioned him, “We only just got back from Carentan and we lost 65 men there. 65 men, Georgie!”

Immediately hands turned your body to face the man in front of you, and your lips briefly opened from the suddenness. Even after you had already been put forward his hands rested on your shoulders, lightly gripping the fabric of your uniform. Your breathing evened out, no longer the erratic rhythm it took on just a few moments ago. The dirt road you two occupied to the barracks were surprisingly barren, despite the many soldiers who seemed to have been more than eager to head back.

“It’s alright (Y/N), it’s goin’ to be alright.”

“And if not..?” That tinge of desperation in your voice slightly broke something in George and it struck a chord in his heart.

He didn’t want you to be like this--in fear of what the future holds. To see his crush and closest friend look so defeated and frustrated left a deep sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach and he desired nothing more than to see you beam again. Oh how he wanted to just swoop you up and kiss you until nothing other than him was on your mind, but he restrained himself. A genuine look nestled itself in George’s sepia eyes, and his hands loosened their grip on your shoulders.

“Well, you still have me.” A shit-eating grin that exudes cockiness replaced his once serene one. He was obviously trying to cheer you up, and of course it worked.

“Oh, shut up, George.”

“And you think that you saying that will make me?”

Your hand went to playfully shove him, but his arm wrapped around your body, pulling you flush against his side. That same beautiful laugh of yours rang out in the air and the once tense and melancholy atmosphere from just a few moments ago dissipated like smoke on a rainy day. The sun could only hide in shame when it saw your blinding smile and George never felt so happy. Previous negative emotions also washed away, being replaced with a soft feeling of bliss.

You two walked back to the barracks, laughing on the whole journey there. The both of you seemed to forget how you still have your arms hanging around each other’s forms, too wrapped up in the conversation you shared with George. Either way, if you did notice, you didn’t think that you would ever want to let go. And for once you let your mind slip about what will happen in the war.

Like what George said: you did still have him after all.

-----------

Returning back to France wasn’t as bad as you had thought, maybe it was because you now grew closer to the ebony haired technician. Mourmand-le-Grand was a quaint little commune and news said that you’d be occupying the small town until Easy Company received orders for another assignment. For the most part, it was so serene, quite the opposite of what you were actually feeling.

A cacophony of little tiny voices of your head screaming at the same time and a discord and flurry of emotions swirled in your chest--restless thoughts about George occupied the space of your brain, turning it into a pig sty of complicated feelings.

After that day, your feelings for George surged through the roof, and what you thought was just as a simple crush turned into something more. Spending time with George went as usual, but you noticed a few additions. Both you and George acknowledged this, but you two were too unsure of the signs to ever push things forward.

Maybe it was the way your hand was lingering longer on his shoulder, the way George looked at your direction for a few more seconds than necessary, or the persistent emotion that always flourished whenever you were near him. That same persistent feeling that could be compared to honey--sticking no matter what and saccharine sweet.

You two knew about your feelings toward each other, hell you even accepted the fact that you did! But how come you two never did anything else? It was if you two stumbled across a brick wall blocking you both from the next step, and instead of trying to find a way around it or break through it, you two just sat there. It just never picked up, and you really didn’t know what to do about it.

If someone were to tease you and George by calling you two a couple or ‘good match’, the latter would always erupt into flames. You would stammer, denying all claims even if they were so fucking obvious and clear as day-

Malarkey and Skip always pestered you to make a move, for he was as in love with you as much as you were with him. They’d try to goad you to finally make the relationship official, often asking you what were you waiting for. You dismissed their ideas and swatted their suggestions to do so, much to the chagrin of the two. It wasn’t as if you were afraid that he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, you knew he did. It was just…

God, why was it all so complicated?

“I don’t get it (Y/N), I really don’t,” Skip propped his elbows on the wooden table, “What’s the point of waitin’ around, you’re just making it harder for yourself.”

Malarkey scooted his chair closer to you and Skip, deciding to hop on the conversation you two are having, “Yeah, you two are practically a couple by now, why are you stalling?” He added, his flaming hair emphasizing the look of disbelief and confusion on his face.

“Well, it’s going to be weird, George is my friend!”

“He also happens to be a friend,” Skip raises his arms to put air quotes, “who is in love with you!” The blonde man quickly quips back, his hands gesticulating wildly in the air to highlight the absurdity of your predicament.

Not having the energy to respond with one of your own snappy remarks, you let Skip��s words sink into your mind. You exhaled and slowly slumped on your chair, your warm forehead making contact with the cool surface of the table. A groan from the back of your throat left your lips, your two confidants giving each other looks before turning back to focus on your hunched form.

“How about you tell him tomorrow?” Malarkey casually suggests, not noticing the way your eyes grow big.

The question punches you deep in the gut and you struggle to form a cohesive thought for a second. You raise your head to give an incredulous look to Malarkey, “And what makes you think I’ll agree to that-”

“Just think about it, (Y/N). You both still have your weekend passes, right? So maybe you two can have some quality couple bonding time with each other--tell him how you feel then you two can do whatever it is couples do.”

Your head went up at the idea, Malarkey grinning when he saw you do so. Your eyes flickered between Malarkey’s face and your lap, your (E/C) orbs deep in thought. Suddenly your face grew warm at the idea of you and George spending time together, and maybe actually going on a date. (Well technically you two actually went on plenty of dates and things like that, you both were just too stubborn to ever call it them that or admit it.)

“And you won’t even have to worry about the rest of us bothering you two because we’d probably be too shit-faced to.”

Skip let out a cheeky smirk and gave a knowing glance to both you and Malarkey, the both of you playfully rolling your eyes at the man. You contemplated for a few more moments, trying to wrap your head around what you’re going to get yourself into. It was a bit stupid--how you were waiting and putting things on hold. Maybe Skip was right about you making it more difficult for yourself and George. Your fingers and fingernails drummed against the wooden table as you pressed your cheek into the palm of your hand.

The two men only glanced at your figure, still idle on the chair. Waiting for an answer, you finally broke the stale, silent air. You released a breath you didn’t even know you were suppressing and gazed upon the expectant looks on Malarkey and Skip. They were on the edge of their seat, looking like a kid waiting to open their presents on Christmas.

“Fine. Tomorrow. If it doesn’t go well I’m going to replace your bullets with stale bread.”

Your thinly veiled threat, which wasn’t even a threat but more of a joke, didn’t deter Malarkey and Skip from bursting into a fit of cheers. Their loud whoops and shouts made you smile and gave you just a bit of reassurance for the next day. The blond and ginger man could be seen giving each other high-fives and patting each other on the back, clearly they had been anticipating this moment for a very very long time.

You knew these two will never shut up about them being you and George’s wingmen if the date goes as planned.

“Stop moping (Y/N), before y’know it, you’re going to be asking yourself why you didn’t do this sooner!”

You looked at Malarkey quizzically but as soon as you did your expression turned into something of the brightest of smiles. The two of them sunk back into their chairs, clearly proud of their feat of finally convincing you to go on an official date with George Luz himself. Both of these idiots are the both the best and worst things to have ever happened to you.

But you now had a date to worry about, and you prayed heavily for it to go well.

-----------

So that’s where you found yourself currently, fussing over your uniform even if you usually didn’t. Tilting your cap so it rested perfectly on your head and adjusting your tie ever so often. Adrenaline pumped throughout your body and a surge of excitement plowed through your being every few minutes.

You remember the pep-talk your two friends have given you (if you can even call it that, it was just Skip teasing you and Malarkey reminding you to stay responsible like a mother). Their reassuring smiles as they left the door brought a feeling of consolation to your nerve-wracked figure.

“--go get him, (Y/N)!”

“And don’t forget to use a condo-” You never shoved anyone so fast out the door so hard in your life.

“Why can’t you two just hurry up and get drunk sooner?”

Your exasperated tone did nothing to hide your clearly warm and flushed face, but your eyes could’ve most definitely paralyzed the men. Skip and Malarkey chuckled loudly before Skip stopped right in front of the door and took off his cap and bowed. Malarkey soon did the same gesture.

“You wish is our command, m’lady.”

Sarcasm flowed from every pore of that statement and you can only huff in amusement at their antics. The two men rushed to the pub where most of the other soldiers were, their arms raising up to bear you farewell, more words of encouragement leaving their lips. A cheeky grin flashed on Skip’s face as he gave you one last joking middle finger--which of course you returned to him.

Their forms disappeared around the corner and you took all your willpower to calm down your rapidly beating heart.

It was now or never, you had guessed.

Even with the two men always pouring you with comforting remarks and consoling you, your body soon soared above the skies with anxiety once again. Oh, you didn’t even know what you were worried about--you like him and he likes you.

In what part of this date was making you so nervous, you two had done it plenty of times. Perhaps it was because you finally came into terms that you did indeed have feelings for him, for all the other times you were so blissfully ignorant of your special bond with him. Shaking your head to relieve yourself of any more questions, you opted to stay silent for the duration of your wait.

So you patiently waited for George near the dirt road where you had told him to meet you. Your thumbnail was placed between your lips and your left foot drummed against the dry floor in a very antsy manner. Seconds rode on achingly slow, it was if they wanted you to suffer. Maybe this was a bad idea, and maybe he wasn’t going to come after all. Why’d you ever listen to those two? What good ever came from actually paying heed to them? With a defeated sigh, you kicked a pebble near your feet and maneuvered your body to head back to the barracks-

“Hey, (Y/N).”

Fuck.

So you turned slowly, your form still in the middle of trying to walk back. And as soon as you did, you thought you were blinded from the sheer beauty that George exuded. Your voice got trapped in your throat and you swore you forgot to even breathe for the briefest of moments. George Luz, standing in front of you with the brightest smile you ever saw him wearing. Both of your lips slightly parted as you took each other’s appearances in, gawking not so subtly at each other.

If you fainted, you wouldn’t exactly blame yourself--just look at him! His soft and short raven hair picking up light from the sun’s rays, giving it a sheer glow. And that damned smile of his, the same one he always wore--and every time they captivated you, this time was no exception. His uniform was clean and crisp, fitting him quite nicely. All you wanted was to stop time so you had just a moment to gather yourself. Instead of fluttering butterflies, you had a whole stampede of elephants occupying your stomach.

“You don’t look half-bad yourself, Georgie,” The amount of effort you put to make your voice sound presentable, you would’ve squeaked it out if you just let it out.

George only hummed in acknowledgement at your greeting, clearly distracted by your presence as you were with his. Your hands shuffled nervously, catching his eye. And the way your (E/C) gleamed as they always had, and despite you acting so flustered, that same spark you carried with you was noticeable. Your lips were caught between your teeth, and he laughed almost sheepishly when you noted his look. Beautiful… You were so beautiful in his eyes.

Time whizzed by and the date for which you two came for flew over your head. Stammering at the realization, you snapped out of daze and walked forward to stand face to face with George.

Forgetting the basket in his hands, George raised it up for you to see. You didn’t even notice that he had a basket for you, as you were too caught up admiring him. It didn’t even take a second for you to immediately recognize its contents. The vivid orange color of the many clementines that were nestled in the straw basket made you beam. After taking one into your hands and inspecting them, you turned your head to look up at George.

“You remembered! How’d you get these?”

Before his response could leave his lips, you pressed your index finger at his lips--effectively shushing him and making him flush.

“Wait no let me guess-” Your fingers snapped before pointing at him, “An old woman came up to you and ever so generously handed you these.”

George laughed and while shaking his head briefly, and that sent shivers crawling down your spine, and you felt aware of the close distance you two shared. You stepped away cautiously, as to not put attention on your form. George eyed the basket one more time before locking his chocolate eyes onto yours.

“Where’d you get 'em then?”

“Saw a tree down by the road-” Cutting him off you glanced at the orange citrus before playfully shoving George.

Shameless was George’s expression, he even seemed pleased even. You gawked at his nonchalant attitude, and George passed the straw basket to you.

“Oh, George you didn’t!” Strolling to your intended spot with George was filled with quips and chuckles, but you couldn’t conceal the surprised expression you held in your face. Eyes still blown wide and mouth stuttering. George stole these clementines… For you? He surely must be joking-

“Oh yes, I did.”

“George Luz, holy shit, where’s your dignity?” You teasingly questioned him.

While you seemed reluctant and against the idea of stealing the possessions of others, you didn’t even hesitate to let your fingers snatch up a small clementine from the basket.

“I never had any in the first place.” He replied, to which you giggled at.

Finally arriving at the place where you and George had agreed to spend your date at, you plopped yourself on the grass with the grace of a new-born deer. You were quite glad you and the technician decided this to be the place. It was simple, really, just a tree near a meadow. The spot wasn’t that far off from the main road and you had a clear view of the serene commune. The sky was absolutely beautiful, a gorgeous azure color--free of any clouds with the sun blessing you with its warm, welcoming rays.

The basket was set between the two of you, giving you a bit of space. The tree provided you with shade, the rustling of the leaves making for relaxing background noise. You would’ve heard the birds singing if it weren’t for the incessant pounding of your heart--it still manages to run a marathon even after it had surely been beating since the beginning of the day.

While your gaze avoided that of George’s, he was quite the opposite. George rested his eyes on your figure, trailing over your form and taking in every single detail. Adoration stretched across his face as the day continued, the two of you staying in a cloak of comfortable silence.

The clementine from earlier was still pressed snug against your palms, and to keep your head busy, you decided to peel it. Using your nails to shed the outer skin and popping a piece into your mouth, immediately hitting your tongue with the fresh taste. Growing bold, you picked a piece and reached your arm to offer it to George.

As if a movie reeled in his head, he was reminded of the first time he had ever interacted with you. George took the piece in your hand, his fingers brushing against your palm--offering him that same shock as the moment you two had shared in England. Muttering his thanks, he concentrated on how utterly peaceful you looked (even when on the inside, you were practically having all natural disasters occurring within you).

You grabbed another clementine from the basket, and once again offered a piece to George, who only looked pleasantly taken back. Breaking the silence, conversations soon flowed easily, like a stream. Hugging your knees close to your chest, you chatted with the black haired man, laughing and giggling ever so often at one of his stories. No longer the silence you two had shared at the beginning, but rather that same banter and ridiculous back-and-forth you always had with each other.

“Did I ever tell you the story of how I stole the neighbor’s dog?”

“You did what?”

“Don’t worry--I gave it back, naturally.”

Letting his words sink in, you grinned--your lips reaching the corners of your eyes. For a second, you felt slightly guilty for laughing at the whole thing. You raised an eyebrow at him, urging him to tell you more.

But you leaned back, still in disbelief at his words and still finding his antics just a bit amusing all the same.

“Well did I ever tell you the story of how I’m going to smack you so hard, they’ll give you a Purple Heart?”

His soft head of hair turned back in a flurry, his hands flying up to shield his upper arms. Giggling, you reassured him that you wouldn’t.

“I’m only joking, calm down!”

Settling down, George continued the many stories of his shenanigans back at his hometown. You gazed in wonder the whole time, nodding your head absentmindedly at each syllable that spilled out of him. The digits of your hands slowly inched closer to his, George also unknowingly doing the same.

The timbre of his voice and impressions left you breathless, your chest almost hurting from the countless times you let out a long chuckle. The grass felt nice upon the surface of your skin and you resumed your conversation with Luz, until you felt something warm against the back of your hand.

Visibly tensing up, you realized that George’s hand was on top of yours. Slumping and relaxing your shoulders when figuring out, George’s words came out fuzzy. Muffled and incoherent, you no longer paid them mind--instead bringing your fingers to intertwine with his. Your companion stopped speaking, sentences refusing to leave his lips.

Without even having to utter a word, the two of you were drawn to each other. Leaning in closer to close the proximity between you two, the basket placed in the middle was knocked over--the small clementines falling out and rolling a short distance before stopping. The clementines were strewn about, but you and George paid no mind. Tantalizing, his lips were right there in front of you--slightly parted and ever so rosy. And with a burst of passion, you leapt to capture his mouth in a slow peck, one that only lasted for a few seconds.

You did it. You actually did it.

“I love you so fucking much, (Y/n)--”

But before George could even say anymore, you silenced him with yet again another short kiss. Your reply was as clear as day, and George looked so enthusiastic and happy you could’ve giggled just a bit at his reaction if it weren’t for the current ardent atmosphere.

George’s cheeks were warm to the touch, and as you pulled away from the brief kiss he could only watch as you breathed heavily. Silently and deliberately, you leaned in--much slower this time. The peck from before laid forgotten in the fervent kiss you gave him.

Your (S/C) hand resting on the side of his head, cupping his head gently. Fingers that were once only loosely connected were tautly wrapped around her each other, his thumb brushing over the supple skin of your hand. In a moment that lasted for what seemed like forever, when you finally stopped--you only craved more.

It was so feverish and heartfelt, yet so tender and like a feather barely ghosting over the edges of your body.

Was this really the same George you knew all this time?

“Wow…”

That was all George said, he himself finding no words to even capture what he felt earlier. Captivated by you, George let his hands grab onto both of your wrists, slipping them down from his face so he can hold them in his own hands.

Deciding to tease him just a little bit, you smirked.

“Was I really that bad?” The way his face turned from a sappy, adoring look to a flustered emotion gave you happiness you couldn’t really fathom.

“Of course not- (Y/N)... You were-- You were amazing.”

“Real smooth, ain’t cha Luz?”

Still wrapped in each other’s embrace, Luz pulled you forward, setting yiu down on his lap as he wrapped his arms around you. Burying his nose in the crook of your neck, you relished in this intimate moment you shared with George. Sitting dormantly with limited movement, the world went still for a moment.

The early morning turned into a bright afternoon. Scooped in his hold, you pressed compassionate kisses all along the edges of his face, his eyelashes fluttering subtly whenever you did so. With the grass matted around your bodies, George’s voice--like music--peppered sweet and quiet declarations of love into your ear.

As you were about to doze off with the feeling of glee surrounding your head, George leaned forward, effectively knocking off your stupor on his shoulder. Light fingers brushed the skin of a nearby clementine--the rest still dispersed in a small pile. Bringing it up to your half-lidded eyes, you twinkled at the sight.

“Clementine?”

The simple act of you two offering the other the sweet fruit seemed like it was you and George’s own unique way of saying ‘I love you’. Sparing not even a second, you brushed what seemed to be like your 1,000th peck of the day on his nose. A fond feeling bloomed in his chest and he was sure that if he wasn’t already sitting down, his knees would’ve given out then--no matter how many times you did it.

“Of course.”

The cotton white clouds aimlessly moved in the sky as the leaves rustled all the same. There laid two people enveloped in each other’s presence. Silently vowing to forever love each other til the end of time. Chestnut eyes focus intently on your (E/C) ones, an affectionate grin setting deep in you and George’s features.

A clementine is shared, just as how the both of you shared your love with one another. Both of your lips move to meet, the whole world once again stopping as you finally do.

-----------

Author’s Note: (*slaps fic* this bad boy can fit so many words in it) Fucky fucky fuck- wow was that absolutely a long ride. As I have mentioned before, I’m finally going to open my requests really soon (whopeee)! I’m sorry if I sound like a wanna-be poet, my vocabulary and grammar skills do be lackin’. I may have a few mistakes here and there and I also apologize for that.

Hnghh, but I hoped that y’all liked this fic! I love you all for takin’ the time to read it. 😩💕

#band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers fanfiction #george luz #george luz x reader #george luz fanfiction #hbo war #hbo war x reader

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chemiste · 4 years ago

Text

Logan and The Diamonds

a/n: aaaaaah to be a rockstar and have harry styles fall in love with you

mah masterlist bitches

The crowed roared.

The stage shook with excitement.

You and your girls rose up about of the floor, posed and ready for battle. Standing in the center, you raised your arm up to the sky and yelled into the microphone, “I give you, Logan and the Diamonds!”

The beat dropped and you started the song.

Your band consisted of 5 girls, Bonni, Effy, Pearl, and Tonya, then yourself. Your band had been on the cover of the Rolling Stones, TIME magazine, Vogue, and many others. Logan was your stage name, you were the head of the band, lead singer and a cut-throat song-writer.

Roughy a year ago you would have been sitting in your cramp dorm room apartment, pouring out lyrics onto any spare piece of paper you had, now here you were, absolutely smashing it on your world tour with your Diamonds.

Bonni and Effy danced together down the middle aisle of the stage, Effy grabbed a flower crown thrown to the stage and slapped it onto her curly head of purple hair. Bonni laughed and started her verse of the song, throwing an arm around her bandmate and swayed.

Pearl and Tonya were on the right side of the main stage, grinding together. You stood on the left, running a hand through the crowd that was desperate for a simple taste of you and your girls.

Your band was unique in a way not seen for a while. You never wore the same outfit, only coordinating colors, each time different for each performance.

Tonight was sliver, Bonni had on sliver high-waisted pants and a matching crop top. Effy wore a mini romper, sliver sequins shaking with her every move. Pearl had on sliver eyeshadow and Tonya wore a sliver skirt. You went with a biker jacket, sliver studs engulfed your shoulders and back. Your black jeans were tight against your legs and honestly, you looked fucking hot. You felt it too.

You and your girls were on fire.

Harry thought so too.

He’d heard of your band a few months ago when he heard Mitch and Sarah jamming out to your song, Devil in the Daylight, during a break at rehearsal.

After that, his curiosity kept him circling back to your band’s Instagram, keeping up with any news that popped up. Finally, after a few months, he snatched some pit tickets for one of your band’s shows. Sarah and Mitch attended with him as well, and were now laughing and singing to their hearts content, crammed up to the front of the stage.

The song ended and applause followed, the girls moved to different spots on the long runway, waving to screaming fans.

Effy spoke up, “Alight right everyone, you know the drill! Every show we do a surprise cover of a song, I wanna see how fast you can figure this one out.”

Bonni walked along the left side of the runway, flipping a long dark braid over her shoulder. “This song is from one of the 2015s most iconic bands,” she said.

Tonya continued, “If most of you are over 15 and haven’t been living under a rock, you deficiently know the band—“ “Maybe even have a favorite,” Pearl added on.

“We all do,” you said, smirking out to the crowd as the yelled answers.

Sarah and Mitch went through bands with each other as Harry watched you and your bandmates scan the crowd. Harry liked your look, it reminded him of a metal head and the aura you gave off was just a confidence that made him want to be with you or even just be you.

H looked around and took a moment to realize he wasn’t the only one.

People yelled out random bands.

“Mumford and Sons!”

“Fallout Boy!”

“Fifth Harmony!”

“Maroon 5!”

Harry chuckled before throwing all caution to the wind and yelled, “One Direction!”

You head snapped to the area he was in, trying to see who’d said the name.

“Well, my diamonds, looks like we have a winner! 3, 2, 1 lets go!”

The girls lined up in specific poses as the music started, the crowd roared with excitement finally knowing the song.

You started,

I've got fire for a heart

I'm not scared of the dark

You've never seen it look so easy

I got a river for a soul

And baby, you're a boat

Baby, you're my only reason

Harry’s jaw dropped, as Pearl sang Louis’ part, his eyes stayed trained on you. Your body moved with the song, throwing your head back and swaying to the beat.

All my life

You stood by me

When no one else was ever behind me

All these lights

They can't blind me

With your love, nobody can drag me down

You danced to your girl’s singing, happy to be on stage doing the thing you loved most.

All my life

You stood by me

When no one else was ever behind me

All these lights

They can't blind me

With your love, nobody can drag me down

Harry watched, absolutely amazed by how you just dominated the song, no hesitation. You smirked as you ran a hand through the screaming crowd. Glancing over, you watched as Effy pretended to twerk on Tonya who was laughing hysterically.

I got a fire for a heart

I'm not scared of the dark

You've never seen it look so easy

I got a river for a soul

And baby, you're a boat

Baby, you're my only reason

Bonni sang Niall’s part, walking over to where you stood with a bit of swagger, possibly imitated the man she was singing for.

You flipped your hair dramatically and leaned an arm on her shoulder while sticking out her tongue. Harry’s eyes stayed trained on your body as you waltzed down the stage, singing into your microphone.

If I didn't have you there would be nothing left (nothing left)

The shell of a man who could never be his best (be his best)

If I didn't have you, I'd never see the sun (see the sun)

You taught me how to be someone

Yeah

The rest of the girls joined you at the edge of the tongue of the stage, basically within feet of Harry and co. Sarah was freaking out, shaking Mitch’s arm with an enthusiasm H hadn’t seen since tour.

All my life

You stood by me

When no one else was ever behind me

All these lights

They can't blind me

With your love nobody can drag me down

Nobody, nobody

Nobody can drag me down

Nobody, nobody

Nobody can drag me

All my life

You stood by me

When no one else was ever behind me

All these lights

They can't blind me

With your love nobody can drag me down

The Diamonds had now each taken a spot along the aisle, Bonni closest to the main stage, then Effy, Pearl, Bonni, and right at the front, you. The former band boy’s breath caught in his throat as he realized what was about to happen.

Nobody, nobody

Nobody can drag me down (down)

Nobody, nobody

Nobody can drag me (down)

Mitch turned to Harry, “Is she about to—“ He nodded, not able to use words.

Nobody, nobody

Here comes the moment of truth.

“Nobody can drag me dooooooowwwnnnn!”

Holy shit.

She was nailing it.

Nobody, nobody

Like a true lead singer, you took few steps forward and slid on your knees to the edge before signing your part again.

“Nobody can drag me dooooooowwwnnnn!”

Nobody, nobody

Slowly, you lifted your head looking up to the nosebleeds. Harry swore a halo from the stage lights lit up atop your head.

“Nobody can drag me down.”

The crowd was silent for a moment before erupting with applause in excitement and energy. The Diamonds and you rounded together for a big hug, relieved your surprise song did well.

Bonni waved to the crowd signaling them to die down, “I’m glad y’all liked it. Actually we all were really pumped for this song cause we all have a favorite in the band!”

Fans screamed, overjoyed from the news. Effy laughed, “Ya, we all got to sing as our favorites, can you believe that?!”

Oh.

I’m her favorite?

You cackled, picking up a lollipop that had been thrown to the stage and pulled the wrapper off, popping it into your mouth.

Harry’s pants got a little bit tighter at the sight.

“Yeah, you guys should’ve seen Logan in the recording studio, I think she about cried when we decided to this song.” Peal said.

Tonya was soon to jump in, “Exactly, this girl fought hard, no one was going to have Harry’s part except her.” H watched as you brought a hand up to cover your face.

“Oh come on guys, stop it…” You whined into the mic while hiding under your hand. Mitch bumped Harry’s shoulder, “Dude, I can’t believe Logan has the hots for you!”

Right as Mitch said that, Harry knew it was too late.

A few girls beside them looked over to the commotion that a drunken Mitch was making, and promptly freaked at the sight of Harry Styles. Harry groaned slightly as the two girls whispered about the rockstar next to them.

What he wasn’t excepting was what happened next.

“HEY LOGAN, HARRY’S OVER HERE!”

Harry’s jaw dropped open while Sarah bursted out in laughter, fans started talking, loudly, about the man in the crowd.

“Logan! Over here!”

“Harry Styles is at your show!”

“I think he liked your performance!”

“Logan! Logan!”

You were enjoying the lollipop, finishing it and putting the wrapper around the sticky part of the stick when you heard some commotion from the left side of the pit.

As the girls chatted to fans and each other, you walked closer to the bubbly whispers of the crowd calling your name.

Harry watched in partial horror as you crouched down on the stage, roughy 5 feet from where he was standing. He watched your face scrunch in confusion, listening to the conglomerated voices trying to tell you something.

You spoke softly into the mic as to not disturb your fellow bandmates from their conversion with the rest of the crowd.

“What’s wrong guys?”

A few hyper voices spoke up and Harry saw it on your face the moment you knew. You eyebrows rose ever so slightly and you followed the trail of pointing fingers to him.

When your eyes locked, you knew you were done for.

Fucking— oh my, Harry Styles just watched me basically sell my soul to his song.

And he knows about my crush, damn.

You face flushed with warmth as did Harry’s, a pink tint lighting his cheeks. Taking a deep breath, you raised the mic to your lips.

“Hi Harry.”

should i do a part 2?

masterlist

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steveusesfaberge · 5 years ago

Text

Tips & Company Policy

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Request: So my request is — the reader is dating Steve, and they both work with robin at scoops and they’re in this competition on who can get the most tips & then reader flirts with a male customer & bb Steve gets jealous and protective ya know however you wanna spin it lol happy ending tho ❤️❤️

Summary: He’s loved her, ever since he could remember...Steve just had never had the courage to speak up. That is, until now - Robin being the ultimate wing-woman he never asked for...a friendly competition...a good-looking customer...and no regards to their company policies.

Type/Style: Imagine, female pronouns

Warning(s): Fluffff, fluff, flufffffff, a dork named Harrington, a bit of a jealous boi, and a cheeky ass Robin <3 Cursing, cause...yeahhh...

Word Count: +7.4K

a/n: This was such a cuteeeeeee idea! I’m so happy I had the pleasure of writing it! <3 It made me happy and prepared me for what I have planned next...

Next up is a Billy fic...and hold your horses, kids...this one is gonna be a doozy...angst, tears, and fluff sprinkled throughout...a miniseries that I plan to have a sweet ending.

I’m trying to decide on what t do with my next Steve fic...either a request, or something new (possibly a miniseries for Harrington too).

I apologize if I haven’t gotten to your requests, in order for me to actually write - I need inspiration and time...I’ve lacked in the first recently, for those in particular, and I’m sorry! I promise I’ll get to them though! <3

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

“Ouch. I’m pretty sure that’ll leave a mark.” Steve groaned in frustration, as Robin mocked him from the glass-slide window. He turned around, employee issued-hat in hand...chocolate blast smeared across his face. Just another day at Scoops Ahoy for Steve Harrington...

“Har, har,” He fussed while giving her a nasty look. Buckley only smirked while adding another tally to the You Suck side of that infamous whiteboard of hers.

Robin capped her marker. “You know, if you stopped being a dingus, you’d notice that you don’t have to work so hard for your money,” the dirty-blonde told while giving him the you’re an idiot - why am I even telling you this? You should know this already look.

Steve’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, he pulled a clean rag from under the counter and wiped his face off. Proceeding to wipe down the countertop while he’s at it... “What? Whaddya mean by that?” Harrington questioned while lifting a hand to rub his nose, the stain from the counter (and his face) now gone.

He’d been talking to a customer and as he was serving her, he...accidentally...might’ve given a backhanded comment - of course, unintentional - but he managed to irk her anyway (So, I was just thinking, maybe you and me could get together some time - y-you know, like back at your place. O-Or mine..-- Well, I mean - I’d take you out first, like before we did anyth- like I wouldn’t just screw you and leave...unless you wanted me to). Yeah...not his best run. Thus, the flavor of the day made friend’s with his cheekbones.

“I mean,” Robin started while rolling her eyes and crossing her arms,” You - good sir - are wasting your time on--,” she trailed off, pulling a hand up to gesture to the sea of people passing by the parlor.

Steve touched his face, pulling at his bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger. “Mhm, mhm, mhm...yeah, yeah, get to the point.”

Robin could only gawk at him; as if he were truly the dumbest person she’d ever met (and he was). She scoffed in disbelief. “Steve-- I mean, why do you try with all these others girls, when the one that’s - as they say,” she paused for emphasis, her eyes wide and her speech slow as if talking to a child.

“The perfect girl - is right under your fucking nose, Harrington.” With that, she grabbed his shoulders and whipped him to turn around. Steve was in the midst of telling her off and rolling his eyes when he spotted her...

She had her hair let down, allowing a flow of honey and lavender to waff off her figure (Steve knew because he’d asked her...I mean...of course he did - his hair didn’t get this good all by itself...). Her y/c/e eyes were far from lackluster - shining with untold stories and secrets that Harrington would lamely listen to all night if she gave him the chance...

She held herself with such, grace - such poise - and yet, still held that charm that he loved. Y/N waved at him, her y/c/s skin almost glowing, casting a halo in his eyes...was he seeing things? Robin could see the way the light captured her perfectly in every aspect too...right?

She was shorter than him, though he didn’t mind...Steve liked that he could glance down without her knowledge throughout their days - sneaking a glimpse of a pearly smile, adorable pout, or simple bliss from solely being alive and in her presence.

“Hey, Stevers - you holdin’ down the fort okay?” Y/N asked while cocking an eyebrow teasingly. He could only sputter an answer - nodding foolishly after harshly swallowing his embarrassment down.

He watched as she and Robin exchanged some...complex...handshake (it had nothing on his and Dustin’s, pfft). “Okay? - Okay? - Y/N/N, this dingus chased off more customers than yesterday,” Buckley snorted while cackling like the wicked, wicked witch of the west (she was doing this on purpose and they both knew it....).

Y/N gave a sigh, correcting her hat to sit on her head a bit higher, walking by Steve and patting his shoulder. “Lay it on me, did you tell someone they looked pregnant? Drop their cone? Get their order wrong?” She offered, tapping her nails along the countertop.

“Mmm, bad enough. He told the girl he was basically looking for s--,” “Not. Important!” Harrington cut in with his words drowning out Robin’s - a voice crack and all...Great...just peachy...

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head while her eyes found the edge of her freckled friend’s familiar tally-chart. “You know Steve, if you’re that desperate to get back in the game, I could always hook you up,” the y/c/h haired girl told while flipping her scooper in the air and catching it; not even flinching (a trick that Harrington himself actually taught her - explaining that it’s all in the wrists -see?).

Steve gave an awkward, half-hearted laugh. Waving her off and using the excuse to attend to the next customers as his ticket out of that conversation. In the middle of Steve trying to avoid his own humiliation - he’d missed the way her lips twitched as he denied her offer...as if she’d wanted no to be his answer...

Why was Steve embarrassed about that though? - Well...it’s kinda embarrassing to tell someone that they didn’t want to be set up with their friends...because...even through all the corny jokes, horrendous pick-up lines, and random talks at work (and while babysitting, and while just...well...hanging out...) - he still couldn’t work the nerve to ask her out. After all this time...

He’d known Y/N since, what? - Diapers? Yeah...something like that. Either way, Steve was sure of one thing - he was in love with Y/N Y/L/N and there was nothing he could do to stop himself from falling. In fact, he found that he kept falling...every....single...day.

He remembered growing up and the idea of even kissing a girl was just the invitation of catching cooties and dying. Steve could remember thinking that he’d never want to even be close enough to a female to...to see that her smile was slightly crooked - only because she always had this sweet little way of grinning, to begin with. He never wanted to be close enough to a girl to realize that their eyes swam more than just one color; no one shade could define the pigment contained in those orbs...

Steve had never imagined he’d want to be close enough to a girl as to remember the way she smelled. Honey and jasmine? No...sometimes it was pine and what he could only describe, as a summer’s night. Yeah...young Steve would be floored to see him now...

Then, they hit middle school; nothing changed...not too much. Steve was still skeptical about this whole girl thing, but he was slowly giving it a chance. Y/N was still his best friend - she still came over and they’d ride their bikes down to the park and sit on the swings...just talking about their day. Or sometimes, they’d just stay inside - binge as many VHSes as they could (Y/N always liked to add her two-cent. Ugh, see this is why they ended up dying! -- What? I would’ve totally taken the red one! -- She’s crazy! -- He’s so smart! -- I thought the mom would be more upset...-- Does that guy even care? -- What color is that? -- Is that misspelled? Steve, Steve! Look!).

Nothing changed...no...well, besides Harrington slowly finding himself looking a second too long at her; smiling a bit too hard at her; listening a little too much to her. He thought it was puberty doing this to him, so he pushed it aside...Then, high school...

Steve remembers it as the first day of November. They had a few months of high school under their belt and were already easing into it all. Turns out, Harrington was what they called...a chick magnet...he started young, what can he say? Though, being fifteen and only barely figuring out where his classroom was...he didn’t care. There wasn’t a reason to care about his looks just yet...he was still trying to figure out which styles were cooler (Senior boys out-ranked him by far, so he had to stand by).

The first day of November...he was walking Y/N home; as he always did (before he got his BMW and his license). She didn’t live too far from him - just down the street, taking two right, then going straight until you passed a big yellow house...stopping at the quaint grey one. He didn’t mind the walk, it was actually kinda nice just to be able to express every thought and emotion that he’d hidden throughout his day. Especially to someone who cared so much about what he had to say.

She’d been wearing his jacket - it was a bit chilly and he didn’t want to be a dick and not give her his coat (his mother would kill him if he treated Y/N wrong). And then - I fell, right? Like in the middle of friggin class...and everyone - and I mean everyone - even Daniel Corvin and he’s like...basically ‘too cool for school’ if you know what I mean. Gosh, I just...I just wish you’d been there. She had been recounting an incident in physical science, telling Steve in great detail how she’d spilled two beakers of - God knows what - on Sally McDonald and Tracie Nelson.

Then - then, Steve - I tried to help them, you know-- like get the stain out...Steve...that stain would not...come out...I thought Tracie was going to bite my head off! Steve had only laughed, getting a shove from the girl in the process. Sorry, sorry - it’s just... If I were there, Y/N - I’d have laughed at you and probably do something dumber. She had smiled at him, and somehow, someway...it was that moment...that moment on the first day of November...walking home from school on a Tuesday...had he felt it.

The sky was a cloudy grey and it had everything bathed in a drab stillness. The wind being the only evidence of time moving as it lifted Y/N’s hair to fly out behind her. Her hands were buried in the pockets of a jacket not belonging to her, too big to fit properly, yet Steve found it to fit her perfectly. Harrington had been carrying her backpack for her (gentlemanly as always) and he’d almost dropped both their bags in the process of watching her...watching her idly kick the fallen leaves as she retold the story.

It was so simple. There was nothing special about that day, he hadn’t won a basketball game (being MVP), nor had he passed some big exam, or even find out he was secretly the heir to some ancient throne...no...nothing that day could explain how he’d acted - nothing causing him to burst with happiness and emotion, the only answer? Steve simply being there with her.

He was in love...

It carried throughout his high school days. He found that despite how many baskets he shot, girls he tempted, and papers he passed...she was still...there. The feelings...still there. Y/N would sit front row, cheering louder than anyone else at his games (even committing to the away-games, claiming she’d never miss him play for the world). Y/N was always there for him when he had girl troubles (either helping him through it, or talking him out of it) - always smiling, and always supportive. Y/N would help him study - they had this tradition of Monday nights being preserved for the two of them. They’d get their week together, planning, discussing, and deciding what was best and when to do it...she was always there.

And she still was.

Standing only a few feet away; a dingy little white hat on her head as she patiently assisted some young boy with what ice cream size he wanted. Shooting Steve a wink or a goofy face whenever she had the pleasure of doing so. She was still there...after all those years...after everything, they’d gone through...and yeah, almost dying two times was enough to drive any girl - hell, anyone - away. Yet, there she was. Still there.

“Sailor boy, you wanna move or what?” Y/N asked, pursing her lips, placing a hand on the counter as she tried slipping by him to reach the mint-chocolate-chip the boy had requested. “Oh, yeah...sure,” he mumbled while shuffling to the right. “Dork,” Y/N huffed with a soft laugh, nudging him with her hip.

He looked up to hear Robin - not so casually - cough. “Ahem - ahem - Stev...a...ahhheeem....you....you suck.” It was a jab at their private conversation...one they’d had a few weeks ago when Robin, the dirty little sleuth she was...had figured out about his (long-term) feeling for Y/N Y/L/N.

What? -- You’re saying, after eighteen years...you haven’t even...tried...to ask her out, Harrington? -- It..it never c-came up! -- Mhm, sure...wow, and here I thought The Hair actually was some big shot. -- I was! - I-I am! I’m just...I don’t...want to ruin...what we have... -- Yeah, said every sad-ending love story ever.

He flipped her off after making sure no one would notice and jerked his hands up in a waggling motion, sticking his tongue out and shaking his head at her. “Wow - yeah, real mature, dingus.” Robin clapped slowly, applauding his act generously.

“Shut the hell up,” he grumbled while running his hands down his face, clawing at his cheeks dramatically popping his eyes wide.

He turned around as Y/N started talking. “You know - as much as this uniform blows - I do say, the tips aren’t bad.” She held up an extra dollar and gave a shrug.

“That’s more than Steve could ever manage,” Robin piped up while leaning out the glass window. Harrington glared at her and only faked a smile. “Please - I can make way more t-than...than that!” He exclaimed, snatching the dollar from Y/N.

“Hey--- hey! Dickhead! That’s mine! I didn’t just amuse a child for twenty-two minutes for your sorry ass to take it!” She whined while fighting a smile as Steve held it over his head, holding it to the light as if trying to figure out its authenticity.

“Mhmm, yes...yes...the serial number looks right...”

“Steeeeevvveee! S-Stop that!” Y/N giggled while jumping up, inadvertently pushing his back to the counter as he only denied her petition, snapping the bill straight a few times.

“Wait a second....is that picture drawn on?” He uttered while gasping loudly, using one arm to hold Y/N away from him as she collapsed into him, complaining and slapping his bicep mildly.

Of course, it was hard to be mad at him...even after eighteen-years, Y/N still could never find it in her to be truly cross with him (annoyed? Sure...but furious...? Not even once). Steve had this incredible gift where - anything he did was always so...good-natured, innocent, and in his own way absurd...Y/N was never given the chance to be mad.

She’d admit, the whole King Steve thing back in his late Junior year and finishing Senior year was a bit much (little did she know he’d done it to try and gain even an ounce of her attention...being dense himself and not understanding he already had it).

Y/N hadn’t rolled her eyes, or sighed more in her life than when he was in his uphold the name and keep the reputation title...don’t even mention when Hargrove came to town - oooooh, how Harrington made her blood boil -- and yet, Steve would just flash a smile and then trip over air he hadn’t noticed; falling on her bedroom floor, or in the kitchen, or living room...or anywhere possible for Steve to screw it up with his dorkiness -- and she’d still be admiring the way his brown eyes glistened with youth and blamelessness.

It was inexplainable...how she felt for Harrington - really the most difficult thing to concede. He was charming, he was sweet, he was amusing, he was Steve. And she’d been ever so lucky as to see that in him starting from a young age. Y/N couldn’t remember why it had happened...but it had...and she couldn't explain it, not for her life.

It had been late April, Steve’s birthday just around the corner...he had been turning sixteen and he’d found his proper place in their school’s social monarchy already working his way to the top (from his looks to his at-school devious persona...he fit right in). Y/N had always thought he was a bit of a show-boat, but Steve only discerned it as finally figuring out who he was (which was total BS because looking at him now - an eighteen-year-old dork who didn’t have a clue on what to do with the rest of his life...oh, boy had young Stevie been wrong).

His parents had never really been around, which Y/N blamed for his yearn for attention as a young teen. They loved him, of course, they did! -- They just worked a lot, didn’t have a lot of time...and Steve was...well...a lot...of alone. Y/N didn’t accuse him of wanting to seek the approval of his peers. She always told him if that’s what he wanted; she’d make sure he didn’t sink his own (show-boat) ship.

Tommy H. and Carol had been the ones to suggest a big party. They alleged it was his sweet-sixteen and there’d not be another one. Ugh. Y/N had never approved of the pair - Tommy was always rude and had this animalistic manner to everything he did, and Carol was a two-faced backstabber who gossiped more than the bored, middle-aged mothers’ of Hawkins.

Steve hadn’t been too keen on the idea himself - he’d told Y/N in confidence a few nights prior to the birthday bash...(he’d been laying on her bed, throwing and catching one of the stuffed animals she had resting on her mattress - one he’d gotten her to be exact). Why don’t you just tell them that? Steve had only shrugged, squeezing the plushy with a sigh. It’s not that simple, honey. Telling that to Tommy and Carol...is like telling a brick wall to stop talking... -- Steve, how the hell does that work? -- Exactly! It doesn’t!).

Y/N remembered going to that party and finding Steve being jostled around in the midst of it all. An artificial smile that only she knew to be fake in the first place. It didn’t reach his eyes, and his gaze was ducked to the floor...if Tommy H. and Carol had been real friends - they’d have seen how half-assed everything was on Harrington’s behalf.

His pool had been crowded with strangers and Y/N remembered the kitchen and living room not being much different. She’d managed to snag Harrington from the chaos and when he asked her where she was taking him, Y/N had only told Steve to shut up and buckle up.

They drove only a few minutes in soft silence down the road to her house - where he was shocked to see an already made pillow-fort built from her living room; a pile of their favorite/his favorite movies, more junk food than Steve could possibly consume, a mountain of pillows, and a collection of cozy blankets.

W-What’s all-- she’d cut him off, giving Steve a hug from behind and grinning madly. Happy birthday, dork. He’d only smiled, leaning into Y/N’s touch, hands placed over hers; savoring the moment.

That moment...had been when she realized it. He’d been half-asleep, the clock reading a quarter to four in the morning and they’d blown through every movie, picked through every snack, and cuddled with every blanket. Steve’s hair was a hot mess (the long night had drawn out the stray strands and frizzies, and yet he still pulled off the hot part better than anyone else), his eyes held dark-circles under them and he couldn’t keep his head up - a constant battle between slumping and sitting straight.

Steve had been wearing an old red Henley shirt that he’d left at her house; long-sleeved and washed clean for him in case of an emergency like so. He was as shameless as ever, even at sixteen, and had sported his stripped boxers - preferring them to his jeans (not that she’d actually complain...who would?).

Yes - Steve Harrington - the mess on her couch; his head finally falling, finding its spot on Y/N’s shoulder without him knowing...yes...that Steve Harrington was the one she’d fallen in love with in that exact moment.

It felt like a rollercoaster...building up years of friendship and trust, to finally reach the peak - seeing over the edge and only fearing the worst outcome as they began plummeting to the ground...finally reaching that point of no return where the feeling of shock and emotion could only be accepted that this was her reality...the one she’d be stuck with for eternity...her stomach doing worse than flips...

If only Y/N had known...if only she had known that more than a year before Harrington’s sweet-sixteen; a boy walking in the fall with his best friend had too, fallen in love...maybe things would’ve turned out differently. Just maybe...

Steve had finally given the tip back to the shorter girl, ruffling her hat-covered head while Y/N swatted his hand away. They’d all gone back to their actual jobs...Robin coming to do some scooping with Y/N while Steve worked in the back, every now and then switching it up...someone getting tired of taking orders, scooping, or looking through inventory and paper forums.

It wasn’t until Robin opened her mouth that their peaceful unity was broken. Damn theater kids...

“Here’s a tip for you, Steve,” she began while refilling the waffle-cones. “You learn to not be a total dingus when talking to potential customers, and you’ll rack some extra cash!” Rubbing her fingers together, Robin had invisible greens rain down on him.

Y/N could only stifle her laugh, turning head to nod in acknowledgment of another ice cream order. Steve frowned, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, some tip,” he grumbled,” I’ll give you a tip, Robin...”

Y/N clicked her tongue, turning to face the pair, Steve hanging out the window as she glanced between them. “Stevie, it’s wrong to be jealous of my talents...I mean...not everyone can be as amazing as me,” she sighed while twirling the tip she’d received before his face (what was that? The fourth one?).

“Spare me, hun - I could do so much better if I tried,” he huffed,” Problem is - I’m just trying to be nice to you, don’t wanna just...steal all your tips, darling.”

A shared staring-contest later...and it was official...a contest.

It was simple - whoever could collect the most tips of the two by the end of their shift today, would be proclaimed the “better asset to the company” (that’s how Robin explained it anyway, even forbearing a small portion of her whiteboard to keep count for them).

Luckily for them, it was an early Saturday afternoon, and the middle of summer in Hawkins, Indiana...everyone was at the Starcourt Mall if they weren’t at the pool (Y/N had heard Billy getting a job there made quite the impact).

“Ahoy! How can I help you?”

“You look like you want something sweet - how about a cone of cherry drizzle, sweetheart?”

“No, no! Take your time, dear!”

“I insist -- it’s on the house!”

“You’re literally...the best customer I’ve had! No joke!”

“I won’t lie to you - that’s my favorite flavor too.”

Sprinkling compliments here, a kind smile there, and a charming air all around - and they had themselves a competition. Somehow - Steve had found his nerve, Y/N suspected it was whatever Robin had said to him in the backroom (she’d said You know what - let me borrow him for a quick sec, mhmm, yeah...hold on, Y/N/N). Had it been a pep-talk? Maybe some solid advice...or a shot of courage. Either way - Harrington had suddenly found his cool...

It irritated Y/N to no ends, as every time she’d get a tip - he’d one-up her and get twice the amount she had. “All thanks to this,” he’d bragged, gesturing to himself while sticking his tongue out, leaning in too-close for her heart to handle. She had only scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “You mean to say, that ridiculous outfit is doing you some good, Harrington?” Earning Y/N a thump on her forehead, and Steve a slap to his chest.

Steve was in the lead right now; having received nineteen dollars...alone...in tips. Y/N was only a few dollars behind and she knew that if she really upped the ante, she could push ahead - or at least tie the snarky boy.

“You're up, Y/N,” Robin announced while spinning the black dry-erase between her fingers. They’d taken turns - after choosing a number between one-through-ten...Steve had been closer, and he’d gotten the chance to go first (but that had been rounds ago..).

She shot a look at Steve who only smiled and stretched a limb to boop her nose. She rolled her eyes, pretending to bite at him, the air taking a rather severe snap. Turning to face the customer; she missed Harrington’s flush and slack-jaw (also missing how Robin hit his face to get Steve out of the trance).

“Ahoy, cutie! Would you like to set sail on the ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your Captain - I’m Y/N...nice to serve you today.” She offered a sweet simper and held her hands behind her back as she bounced on her heels.

The boy before her, had dark hair (hair that had Harrington judged silently...it wasn’t bad...he was just criticizing how the guy managed to get volume like that - did he use Faberge too?!), and green eyes. He was rather tall, taller than Steve to give an image - Y/N suspected six-foot-two...

Broad shoulders and a kind smile to his sharp features. Y/N had to admit - this guy was...not bad looking. Easy on the eyes, at least he gave off that much. He had a blue button-up on and jeans to match, a blue and white windbreaker complimenting him nicely.

He returned her smile and Y/N felt a slight blush find her cheeks.

“Nice to have you serve me too,” he chuckled,” I’m Shawn, though cutie works just as well.” He offered Y/N his hand to shake and she took it, a short giggle bubbling from her lips as he addressed her as Captain.

“Uh-oh,” Robin teased while watching the scene unfold before her. Harrington had absently begun to grip the counter to the point of his knuckles bleeding white. “Is that...jealousy I smell?” Buckley whisper-shouted while her hands came up to pinch her face together - her lips a perfect ‘o’.

Steve ignored her, chewing on his lip as he listened to the flirting this...Shawn...character was displaying. He wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much - maybe because Y/N should only be laughing with him like that, smiling at him like that, and talking to him like that...this dude didn’t even know her last name...(and God, Shawn made it sound like he wanted Y/N to take his last name...).

“The special today is chocolate blast, so...if you’re interested in that - I can assure it’ll be worth your money.” Y/N explained while rotating her scooper, weaving it between her fingers. Shawn gave a nod, and then said,” You know what - surprise me, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. “Sweetheart?” Steve mumbled while being quietly laughed at by Robin. Steve’s eyes furrowed and he restrained himself from waltzing over and doing something not so company-policy employed.

“Well in that case,” Y/N hummed while glancing at the array of flavors,” I’ll give you a house favorite!” Harrington was one-hundred percent aware of how enchanting Y/N was without even trying...a dangerous skill indeed. Though he wasn’t the only one aware...

He watched the y/c/e eyed girl walk over to their glass-case freezer, leaning down to scoop a large clump of chocolate peanut butter truffle...he couldn’t tell if he were honored to have his favorite ice cream being the choice of surprise (because on one hand, Y/N chose it precisely for Harrington’s reaction, and then, on the other hand, that Steve was sure Y/N didn’t even know existed - she was giving his favorite flavor away to some random dude...).

“Looks delicious,” Shawn complimented, and Steve swears there wasn’t any reason for their hands to touch through the exchange of cone to hand.

Y/N could only nod, turning to the register as she began ringing him up. “Mhm! It’s really good!--,” “Is it your favorite?” the boy interrupted smoothly, leaning his elbows on the counter.

“Haha, no - it’s actually his,” Y/N told while scratching at her neck. The reference to Steve had him hold three fingers up in a weak attempt at hello.

Shawn eyed Harrington, sizing him up before looking back to Y/N (who did this Shawn-guy think he was?!). “Interesting choice.”

As expected, he left (an unnecessarily) large tip...not only pushing Y/N in the lead, but also pushing Steve over the edge.

The opposing man decided to stick around, even after his cone was finished...he sat at a nearby table and was bothering them as they worked (that’s how Steve perceived it anyway...).

Y/N kept getting sidetracked; thus, her score lagging behind Harrington after a few more shoppers... It looked as if she cared on some level - but Steve wasn’t an idiot and he could see how this (not him) alright-looking guy had her attention for the time being.

Normally, he’d ben enthralled to see he’d be winning their contest. He and Y/N had always had these playful kinds of competitions growing up, this wasn’t any different...except it was...because insert this random flirty dude and bam....it throws off everything.

Steve didn’t like the way Shawn would make a specific comment and Y/N would giggle, or shake her head in amusement. Steve didn’t like how Shawn would watch her as she worked - as if trying to remember a hidden pattern. Steve hated how Y/N seemed...okay with this...it drove him absolutely mad.

After roughly fifteen more minutes of Harrington trying to contain his little green gremlin - he gave up. He could only be so nice for so long...after all, he was only just a man.

“Screw this,” he murmured while throwing his hat to the side. Pushing his seat out and walking to the side door (he and Robin had been sitting in the back room while they waited, taking the time to fill a few inventory forums).

Robin raised a brow, peeping out the window to see what exactly had his tailfeather’s ruffled like a sorrowful peacock. She smirked, sputtering her reply.

“Pffft -- y-you really gonna do this? Like...like...first of all, your hat - Harrington, that’s against company policy.” Steve shrugged her off, pressing his back to the door and shoving it the rest of the way open.

“I don’t care,” he hissed. Robin only pursed her lips, arms crossing over her chest. “Mhm...well, customer satisfaction is also part of our company policy...and as far as I can tell,” she urged while her eyes flickered back to the boy talking with Y/N,” He’s looking pretty satisfied.”

Steve grit his teeth, offering a scoff before fulling exiting the room. “Screw company policy.”

“And so I sai--,” “Ahoy! -- I’m Steve,” he greeted loudly, butting into Shawn’s story. Y/N was behind the countertop, replacing an empty tub of plain chocolate with a fresh one when Steve swooped in to do it for her.

He plopped the bucket down and then leaned his arms on the counter, eyes digging into the boy sat at the table-for-two closest to the register. Steve rubbed his cheek and cleared his throat. “Steve - Steve Harrington. Nice to meet you.”

“Uh, Shawn, Shawn Gilson,” the stranger replied,” Nice to meet you t--,”

“So, uh, I dunno if you’re aware, Shawn, but - Scoops’ has this, uh,” Steve interjected while snapping his fingers, shaking his head,” This...thing - where customers who spend...too long here, are considered to be loitering.” He shrugged.

“I don’t mean to be that guy - but you should probably go,” Steve continued with a soft click of his tongue, giving a soft suck of breath as an oh, darn.

Before Shawn could answer properly, Steve was hopped over the countertop, helping the taller boy to stand up. “Yeah, I know -- it’s such a bummer,” he spoke over Shawn’s slow and mumbled objections.

“But - it is company policy...and you know--,” Harington continued, giving a final shove to the man; accidentally putting all his body weight into it,”--I’d hate to break company policy.” He winked, waving the guy off,” I uh, took an oath or something.” Hands on his hips, Steve smiled charmingly as he saw Shawn off; spinning on his heels once he believed the rival brunette a fair distance away.

“Well, that’s one way to take care of it,” Robin commented while smirking, her chin rested in the palm of her hand as she stood next to Y/N.

Y/N, throughout the entire interaction - had been astounded, confused, and then slightly flushed as Robin’s commentary had enlightened her to a few things.

“I know, right? I didn’t t-think that guy would ever leave,” Harrington scoffed, while trying to play it off, running a hand through his hair (a nervous tick Steve had that Y/N always found to be adorable).

Robin rolled her eyes, dropping her head to the countertop. Y/N giggled and walked over to Steve, meeting him halfway - now all three employees standing behind the showcases.

“Why’d you do that, Harrington? He was nice,” she noted while crossing her arms, eyeing him suspiciously. Hoping he couldn’t hear the accelerated pounding of her heart or see the shake in her legs as he placed a hand on the surface of the worktop - awfully close to Y/N from what she could judge.

Steve’s jaw was slack as his tongue skimmed his teeth. He shook his head, eyes flickering from the girl before him, to the ground. “Him? - No, no - he was testing it with me, I don’t know about...nice.” In other words, I didn’t like him and where he stands isn’t clear, but my opinion isn’t positive.

“But he was sweet! -- And I’ll agree, kinda cute.” Thus, Steve’s mind blanked completely. Robin was trying to keep herself together, mumbling a low justification of needing to sign something in the back, and leaving them to their own devices.

“What? Are you crazy? - He was staring at your ass every second you weren’t looking,” he droned,” That’s not the kind of guy you want hanging around, hun,” Steve stated, his expression finding one of bitterness and annoyance.

Y/N couldn’t get another word in, Steve going on a heated rant about how unfit this flirty visitor was for her. He’d been winded afterward, having used a wild amount of hand movements and lecturing quite fast - all in one breath. He finished with slapping his palm to the granite counter, driving back his hair as Steve recollected what he’d just said and what had happened...Shit.

“Tell me, Harrington,” Y/N started while looking up to her tall best friend. “What kind of guy would you want hanging around me?”

He choked on his own spit and took a few heartbeats to figure out what to say without breaking every piece of friendship and relation they already had.

“Well,” Steve sighed, wiping his hands on his ugly uniform, they were clammy and his fingers trembled. “You...you deserve someone who...who knows you. I dunno.”

Steve licked his lips and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, and deciding to just...say it...after five...heartwrenching years of waiting; craving; pining...This probably wasn’t the first time he’d acted so irrationally...just the first time there’d been a girl named Robin to expose him...

“You deserve a guy who won’t give up on you...even after years of doubting himself. Someone who will be there when you’re upset, and never leave when you’re at your lowest point, Y/N/N. A guy who wants nothing more than to make you smile, because...Gosh, do you have such a pretty smile...He’d be satisfied with just seeing you happy - you know? - even if that means he’s not.”

“Someone who loves that...that you always air-dry your hair because it’s easier than doing anything else, even if that guy insists on proper hair care. Darling...you...you deserve someone who cherishes you in every way possible, savoring the way your laugh sounds after you recite some dumb joke, or die a little when you kick ass in the arcade.”

“Someone who knows that you hate reading books with bent pages, and when you walk, you sometimes skip every other step - almost like a hop. Y/N...you deserve someone who has never wanted anything from you...just...just for you to look at them like they look at you.” He lamented.

“And - I know...it’s stupid - but...you deserve someone who won’t just flirt with you because he can. Someone who’ll flirt with you even when you’re with him because he knows you think those stupid pickup-lines and cheesy jokes are endearing.” His voice cracked and he couldn’t help but bite his lip apprehensively.

“I...I...I just think...maybe you’re just...looking in the wrong places,” Steve mumbled. Head hanging low. What the hell was he saying? What the actual hell was he thinking?

“Because...I...I don’t wanna sound like a narcissist...but...I always kinda thought...the kind of guy you’d...you’d end up with--,” he paused his eyes searching Y/N’s for the strength to finish.

“Was me.” He breathed.

Steve exhaled shortly, and restated,” I always thought you’d end up with me, Y/N.”

She’d been quiet throughout his speech. Earlier, while Harrington had been escorting Shawn out...Robin had spoken to her.

You know, he’s in love with you, right? -- W-What? -- Y/N...don’t be serious right now. -- Robin - I-I don’t know what you’re talking about! -- You...you seriously have no idea? Like, seriously, Y/N? -- Robin, I-I don’t know.

All Steve does, is talk about you. Think about you. Want to be with you...he told me he’s loved you since he was fifteen, Y/L/N! -- Why...didn’t he say anything?

Fear is a very powerful sentiment, Y/N. He was scared you wouldn’t return his feelings. -- He...he never acted differently towards me though.

Are you crazy? He practically knows you better than you know you. He didn’t need to act differently because he was just always himself around you. And you see that? See him over there? That, that my friend, is jealousy. Probably one of the most powerful aphrodisiacs there is.

The dirty-blonde had then asked her a question that Y/N had tried to overcome, bury deep within her...to forget about and hopefully never think of again...it...it never had worked.

Do you love him too?

Y/N hadn’t been given the opportunity to clarify, Steve strutting back to them in that oddly proud and embarrassed manner of his. Y/N teased him like she would any other time he acted like a dork...but, asking such a simple question to try and prove Robin right or wrong - had turned the conversation sober faster than her head could keep up with.

Her lungs hurt; had she been breathing throughout the minutes passing? She couldn’t remember - dumbly taking a few gasps, her eyes wide and her hands shaking pulled to her chest. Y/N bit her lip and when she saw the anxiety and panic in Steve’s eyes...she melted.

“I-It took you long enough, Harrington,” she stammered, throwing her arms around his neck, her hat falling off in the process. He tensed at her touch until reality hit and he felt all the air escape his chest - finally sinking into her like he needed her to stand.

Y/N was basking in the moment; relishing the scent of his cologne (the classic Calvin Klein Eternity), the smell of a light floral blended with a woody amber clashed with Steve’s natural musk perfectly. It was comforting. It was absolutely intoxicating.

She hid her face in his shoulder while she felt the tickle of his breath in the crook of her neck. “I...I kinda always thought I’d end up with you too.”

Steve was silent at that, but slowly, slowly; he erupted into laughter. Laughing at himself for having been so scared all these years! After all that damn time...she’d felt the same way! Waiting probably just as long as him! Patiently waiting for Steve’s cowardly self to man up! After all this damn time...she had loved him too.

Robin was slow clapping, using a fake, posh accent to congratulate them. “Bravo, bravo! Steve finally grew a pair!” Y/N was laughing, the vibration of Harrington’s own excitement leaking into her reaction.

The freckled girl gasped, slapping her hands on the counter as she leaned out the shutters. “Dingus - you know what this means...right?” Steve’s face was blank, his arms tightly wound around Y/N still as he tried to figure out what Robin was referring to.

When it hit him, he gave this strangled noise of accomplishment. Harrington picked Y/N off her feet and swung her around a bit, clumsily knocking a few paper bowls to the ground (not that it wasn’t unusual for him to do something so senseless).

“I-It means I rock!” He gushed while placing Y/N to sit on the countertop, jumping around like a child. Just another reason Y/N had fallen in love with him...he never seemed to grow up fully, but she was okay with that...things never got old with Steve.

Robin nodded somberly, pulling the notorious chart back out and drawing on that one, single line that Harrington had been anticipating...

“Yes!” He shouted, not caring eyes from outside the shop were staring. “I finally did it! Fuck! In your face, Robin!” He leered with a bright smile. Buckley rolled her eyes.

“Mhm, don’t get ahead of yourself, dingus. You haven’t actually asked her out... I can take this victory away, you know?” Robin threatened while hovering a hand over the lone tally-mark.

The brunette whipped around, his hair tousled from his jumpiness. He stepped to Y/N quickly who had only been laughing at his interaction with Robin; taking her by surprise when he stood between her legs, hand cupping her face. Steve’s free arm snaked around her waist. His smile looked like it hurt, but Steve didn’t seem to mind.

“So...,” he started, enjoy the display of pink on Y/N’s beautiful features. His mind wandered back to their earlier competition and he bit his lip, trying to contain the satisfaction. “I won our little challenge...,” he drawled while pressing his forehead to hers.

Y/N sighed, rolling her eyes. She pinched his cheek and poked his side. “After all...that...you ruin the moment with this? Cocky much?”

“No, no, let me finish,” he chuckled, his brown eyes glistening with affection and adoration. “I have about twenty-five extra dollars to spend,” he explained,” Whaddya say to me treating you to a date? I mean...how else can I cheer you up? You must be so sad about losing to the likes of me.”

Y/N grinned. “Oh, but of course -- I don’t think I’ll ever recover from a loss like that...sighhhh...the only cure is...dinner and a movie?” Y/N expressed dramatically leaning back from his chest, a hand pulled to her forehead.

Steve pouted. “Wait...you just asked me on the date...I...I was supposed to ask you!” Y/N shrugged,” Does it matter?”

“Yes! It does matter! You can’t take this from me!” He cried while shaking his head and jutting his lip out.

Y/N snorted, shaking her head at how utterly adorable Steve was. “Fine...I take it back. No dinner and a movie.”

Silence followed.

“This was supposed to be more romantic, you know, but you fucking ruined it,” Harrington accused while laughing, his serious expression breaking.

Y/N scoffed, striking his chest. “Listen, Sailor Boy - if you weren’t such a moron yo--,” and then he kissed her.

It was soft, it as sweet, it was better than anything she’d ever imagined. Her arms circled his neck and his hand pulled Y/N’s face to his as close as humanly possible--

“We run a business, guys,” Robin reminded while gagging and flicking Steve in the forehead as she walked around the counter, trying to awkwardly apologize to a couple that neither Y/N nor Harrington noticed.

Steve helped her slide off the countertop, mumbling a hello to the customers. He looked to Y/N and smothered his amusement at her red face.

While Robin was serving the pair, Steve tried to be useful and helped Y/N fix their topping containers. “So,” he started, clearing his throat and closing the lid of rainbow sprinkles. “Let me try again.”

Y/N hummed, egging him on.

“Y/N - the girl of my dreams, the person I’ve had a crush on for five terrible years...Will you go on a date with me?” Steve asked, turning to face her with a soft smile. “Please?” He added quickly.

Y/N popped a chocolate-chip in her mouth, a small smirk playing on her pink lips. “I would love to go on a date with you, Steve. After all, you did say please.”

Steve didn’t regret breaking company policy...no...not at all.

a/n footer: I thought this request was sooo cute! <3 I hope it’s to your liking @billyhargrovescigarette :) I loveddddd writing it!

Tagged List: @novaddictx @mairalynn416 @wefracturedmotivation @truthdaze @xxcxrolinexx @savingprivatecass @emmalbg @timeladygallifrey @the-first-breath-of-autumn-air @billyhargrovescigarette @krystalane @truthdaze @neverlandsoundsgood @friendlyneighbourhoodmercenary @imarockstar145 @foryoubarnes @winchestergirl907 @anniethepanda @gwenebear @lavenderluvs @werdenkt @just-ladyme @un-deroos

#stranger things #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #joe keery

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halorocks1214 · 4 years ago

Note

hmmmm prime numbers for the video game asks?

Listen, are you secretly a math teacher? I might not be taking a math class my first year at college but come on, I’m taking a break for a reason

JKJK, thanks for asking~

1. First game you played obsessively? To make sure I answered the right questions I double checked my math with Google and turns out, one is not prime, so there’s that fun fact for the day that I always keep forgetting

2. A game that has influenced you creatively? Writing, drawing, etc.

Pbpbppbpb, I mean, the stories from my favorite games definitely helped me get into Writing and such. I loved the idea of my characters going through the situations the characters in these games did, and slowly I learned to make my own stories instead of just... taking plots from video games and changing the characters to mine lmao

Though, my main OC going through all the Pokemon games’ plots as a singular person and interconnecting all the worlds and lore? Yeah, not getting rid of that any time soon. Pry it from my cold, dead heads. I dare ya

3. Who did you play with as a kid?

Lots and lots of online friends. I get real tired of people saying, “internet friends can’t be real friends!” because for the longest time the only people I could ever talk to were through a headset

Outside of that, I do have and had IRL friends who I played with a lot (I got a few buddies who I regularly get online with that I see in real life as well), and occasionally I play with my brother

The rest of my family and I (including my brother) also have game nights. Mostly Mario Party and other Nintendo/Mario games

5. Ever use cheat codes?

I did actually, a few times for one game. I was getting tired of dying so quickly in Don’t Starve so I looked up how to spawn certain items in the chat box with codes and stuff. I think I accidentally impulse ended that run by trying to take on that spherical-cyclops-ostrich monster because I was getting cocky and... yeah

7. Any games you have multiple copies of?

Nothing off the top of my head! With the new wave of being able to have digital libraries especially. Even as a small child I kinda saw it as a waste, so I never had more than one copy of anything

11. Have you ever made new friends from playing video games?

I don’t do that much online hunting anymore where I can voice chat, so nowadays, not really anymore, but back then, with all my Halo and other Xbox obsessions? All the time. My friends list is huge for a reason, and that’s because I never shut up lmao

13. A game you’ve never played that everyone else has?

There’s probably a lot of them, tbh. I watch a lot of Youtubers to get my fix for certain games that I don’t have the time or energy to play myself

17. Ever lose a friend over a game?

Outside of “online friends I dropped because of getting older and more mature”, not really. I’ve lost friends, but never over video games

19. Favorite handheld console?

As cliche as it is, the Switch man, holy shit. The Switch is genuinely revolutionary to the world of video games, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to live with out it

23. The game that you’ve logged the most hours into?

Hmm, if we were to go with “in general” the Pokemon franchise definitely. But if we want concrete numbers I can think of off the top of my head, Monster Hunter World is getting dangerously close to logging in 300+ hours, and following that (not very closely, mind you) would be something like Breath of the Wild or New Horizons

Listen, my friend begged me to get MHW to play with him and if there’s anything I’m grateful from him for, it would be his insistence that I get this game. It’s baller

29. What is your gaming set up?

This post is going to be twice as long because I saw the opportunity for pictures and I apologize for nothing

Computer is very basic. I don’t use my gigantic monitor for games though, because every monitor I’ve ever tried lags the hell out of my frames and I just can’t deal with that :/

Switch and Xbox! The two main consoles I play... pretty much the only ones. I had a PS3 briefly for Persona 5, but other than that, *jazz hands*

BUT THE BEST THING: I recently asked my dad to make me these controller-holding hooks for the headboard of my bed and they are the BEST THINGS EVER I love my dad

Bouns: the back of my Switch since I’m a sticker slut

31. Does the 3DS and/or Virtual Boy hurt your eyes or give you headaches?

Any screen device is bound to give me headaches from time to time. Whether it’s from staring at the brightness for too long, or because my dumbass was laying/sitting in a position that was bad for my back/neck, I will probably never know

37. Have you played E.T. for the Atari 2600? Do you think that’s the worst game ever, or do you have another nomination?

Never touched it, and while I can’t give a personal opinion on how garbage it is or isn’t, I do like the jokes that come from it :D

41. A genre that you just can’t get into?

Uh, you know what? I can’t really come up with anything. A long time ago I might have said “long, story-heavy games that take forever to complete” since I mainly watched those on Youtube, but now that I’ve played games like Persona 5 and Breath of the Wild and absolutely adored them, I don’t think I have a leg to stand on

I think I’m willing to give anything a try, but if I play it and it gets boring, then it was probably mostly because I didn’t like the story or because I couldn’t get behind the controls :P

43. Ever play games when you really should have been concentrating on something else?

Yes, all the damn time. Homework in high school that I need to work on? Latest chapter of that fic I’m supposed to be writing? Nah, gotta find all the fossils on my island before I forget to do it later, cause we all know what’s really important here

47. Do you like competitive games?

Man, my Overwatch phase consisted heavily of the competitive aspect of the game, even if the competitive side was toxic as crap. Halo online is and was the shit, always had fun with a variety of the games they came up with. SMASH, SMASH WITH MY TWO BUDDIES I MENTIONED BEFORE IS SO MUCH GODDAMN FUN YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW-

So TLDR, I do like the competitive aspect of video games a whole lot, even if the competitive stuff I mainly do nowadays is just me and my friends fighting each other in Smash at midnight lmao

53. What’s your opinion on DLC these days?

It depends on the pricing and what comes with the DLC. Each DLC is it’s separate thing, and you can really only judge them based on each individual game and what they are worth. Was the game mainly complete when you bought it? Does the DLC have actual worthwhile additions to the game itself? ETC ETC

I could make an entire essay out of this, but I’m kinda tired, and the best way to sum up my feelings is “DLCs aren’t inherently good or bad, and it sucks that certain unnamed companies have given them a dirty reputation”

59. Do you play any cell phone games?

Again with the used to. Huge mobile game phase for awhile (Clash of Clans, PUBG rip-offs, etc) but not anymore. I do have mindless, ad-riddled games if I’m bored, but even those are collecting dust at this point

61. Do you trade in your games or keep them forever?

Off the top of my head I cannot think of any time I have ever traded in a game, so I guess it looks like I keep them until they die or break lol

67. Do you have a happy gaming-related childhood memory you want to share?

Man, I have a bunch. Video games were and still are a huge comfort thing for me, so to just share one would be blasphemy. Let’s just say, video games have always brought be joy and happiness during times when nothing else could :)

Ask the gamer more video game questions

#scribeofred #answered ask #long post #video games #monhun #pokemon #nintendo #smash #stickers #AND OTHER GAMES I MENTIONED BUT CANT TAG #SORRY I WOULD SEND AN ASK BACK BUT I GOTTA ZOOM TO WORK SO YEET #THANKS AGAIN ITS ALWAYS FUN SEEING YOU IN MY INBOX

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theboyz-engup · 6 years ago

Note

can u write a cute au where reader is sitting on sunwoo’s lap while doing his makeup for fun and he’s looking at you all lovey dovey - ya know all the shit that makes my heart soft hehe

A/N: one of the few I did as I saw it come in- it’s got a little more intimacy than I usually write but I tried to keep it lowkey. Hope you enjoy it ^.^, with love, Admin Zea

“Just stay still,” you huffed, holding your eyeliner very carefully. You had to make sure your hands didn’t shake like normal, though you found this all too amusing. Sunwoo’s normally painted eyes were shifting like he was blinking at lightning speed and you couldn’t help but giggle before shushing yourself and trying to concentrate.

“Oh my god, just do it already,” he pleaded, like you were about to do some amazingly dangerous procedure. You only smiled, leaning a bit to get the light on his skin the right way so you could draw a perfect line. He dared to open one eye and look at you before you clicked your tongue and he snapped it shut again.

As you drew a thin line that rode the curve of his eye, you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and zoned out the music that was playing from the speaker on the dinner table. It had to be perfect, and it would’ve been if the hands that were holding your sides didn’t start moving and pressing into the ticklish parts of your body. You struggled to not move, feeling the laughter but the wing- the poor wing was ruined.

“Sunwoo!” you exclaimed, half laughing and half annoyed. Your hands worked at stopping his but he was intent on distracting you, one hand focusing on the assault while the other held you in place on his lap. “Sunwoo, stop!”

“You’re getting eyeliner all over me,” he said, trying to distract you as he kept at it. Lifting you hand, you threatened to draw on his face if he didn’t stop and he pouted.

“You promised you’d let me do it if you lost the bet and you lost,” you reminded him, pouting back to match. The way his eyes bore into yours was like he was looking at you in all your entirety, with nothing left to hide but the skin under your clothes. It would’ve scared you if it was any other day but today, you’d won your bet and you had to take advantage of the situation.

“Okay then,” he trailed off, pulling his lip in between his teeth. You watched him try to argue with you in his head and then giving up, sighing in defeat, “hurry up before everyone gets home.”

You only giggled again, happy to get your way for the moment. As you leaned to grab the makeup remover, you hummed along to the song softly playing. It seemed to fill the large halls even though the sound was small and you could get lost in it, dabbing away the liquid eyeliner with a little cotton ball. You never noticed the way his eyes traced your movements, or the way he smiled when you smiled. He mimicked every emotion you went through, furrowing his eyebrows when you concentrated and dipping his mouth open when yours dropped out of habit.

It took all his strength to not let his hands wander too far, having you in his lap so sweetly. He let his hands trace your thighs, keeping you in place as they rested on your hips. You clicked your tongue at him, pulling your shirt down between his fingers, muttering that he was being indecent. He gaped, not noticing it and spluttering to make up for how embarrassed he was. Your broadening smile was enough to stop him from defending himself and he turned to complaining instead.

“Ah, really!” Sunwoo’s voice echoed off the walls, followed by your laugh which rang louder. He always thought that was beautiful.

“Shh,” you teased, bringing the makeup brush to your lips and closing your eyes for a moment longer than a blink, “I need to focus.”

“You laughed,” he quipped.

“You made me,” you quipped back, raising a sly eyebrow before going back to whatever you were going. It looked like finishing touches, big brush in hand and was it setting powder?

“Close your eyes for a bit,” you hummed, trying to be quiet for no real reason. He bickered with you at that, constantly saying no until you gave in to ask why. He couldn’t bring himself to answer what he truly wanted to say so he just angled his chin up and away from you, acting high and mighty.

“Because no,” he said, trying to be smug. Little did he realize he’d closed his eyes for a moment and suddenly there was a brush against his face. He sighed. “You couldn’t just let me have it?”

You only shook your head. God, you were gorgeous when you grinned like that. He rolled his eyes to hide how enamoured he was with you, taking his eyes briefly from yours to the mirror that lay on the table and then back. To reach it, you would have to get past him and he was very intent on making that slightly hard for you.

“We’re done! Let me show you,” you chimed, happy as you clapped your hands. You put down whatever tools were left in your hands and reached behind him, leaning in. He pressed his lips against your cheek as you did so, causing you to retract. He could feel the heat on your skin as he did it, glad to know he could still make you flustered if he wanted to.

“I- you- Kim Sunwoo, you-”

After fumbling around with your words, you decided on, “just- I can’t take you seriously, oh my god.”

It wasn’t necessarily his intention but he left little marks on your skin, lipstick coming off as he trailed a few on your skin. You tried to play innocent in the situation but you let him for a few beats before softly complaining, drawing out your words, “Sunwoo, no. You’re gonna ruin the lipstick, no. You need to see it first, then we can do this.”

He only smiled, letting you reach for it- albeit warily and keeping your eye on him the whole time- and waited as you made a drumroll with your tongue. The final reveal was less than beautiful and more so shocking. His jaw dropped immediately and he leaned in closer to the mirror you turned around for him to see.

“What did you do?”

“I made you Marilyn Monroe!” You grinned widely, pointing at the little drawn on mole beside his mouth. “See?”

“Why am I so pale?” It took almost too much strength to not scrub off your work and see his real skin tone. You shrugged, pouting your lips.

“She was really pale.”

He was flustered, he decided. After a beat, he smiled and pleaded, “y/n, this is amazing. You did so well but I hate it, please take it off me.”

You snickered, pulling off his lap and pressing the mirror to your chest. “No.”

“No?” He raised his eyebrows at this, leaning forward. He could feel the chase- see it in the way you angled your knees to the right. You were going to try and run around the table. As your face got smug, Sunwoo figured out ways to catch you. “Oh.”

And you were off. You were laughing already, calling him dumb names as you ran about the table only to find yourself trapped and climbed over it. He let you, wanting the game to go on further. You threw pillows in his direction as you swept past the couch, giggling like a child. He ducked them easy enough, you had terrible aim, and sped up. You were always slower in bigger spaces and he found his hands on your hips in no time.

He brought you closer, laughing as you pretended you wanted to get away. Your voice became older and more refined, back leaning into him as you exclaimed, “oh, cruel world! Gone are the days of y/n y/l/n. Remember me.”

You slumped into him, back against his chest before you turned around slowly and gave him a dumb grin. He was already amused but seeing how chipper you were only made you shine in his eyes. He wondered where you got your halo from. Your arms slid around his neck and you had stars under your skin. It was inevitable. No matter what he did, he couldn’t stop himself from diving headfirst into the spring that was you. Not when you had a smile like that.

“Where were we again?” he asked, attempting to be a stereotypical romantic. Those lines worked in movies, right?

“In the middle of our living room,” Hyunjae chirped. It knocked you out of each other’s arms in a second, Sunwoo clearing his throat and turning away as you faced them bravely. Eric’s laugh was enough to dull some of the tension but Juyeon’s little shake of his head as he brought groceries to the kitchen was enough to make you hide your face behind your hands.

“Hyung, what did y/n do, oh my god,” Eric’s laughing rang through the house, a few of the other boys filing in and saying hello. Sunwoo only bickered with Eric who was, at this point, on the floor and beside himself. You were packing up your makeup, trying not to giggle as well.

Juyeon came up beside you, putting some lunch out. He winked as he spoke, so oddly light compared to his previous look of disapproval. “Should we come back later? Give you two some privacy?”

“That’d be great,” Sunwoo mused. You only smiled, shaking your head.

“Nah,” you decided, zipping up your bag, “I’m glad you came home just in time to see Marilyn Monroe.”

“Some like it hot!” Hyunjae added, putting out a juice carton or two. You weren’t keeping count.

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spn-ficfanatic · 6 years ago

Text

Halo- Chapter 2

SPN-FICFANATIC MASTERLIST

“HALO” MASTERLIST - CHAPTER ONE - CHAPTER THREE

Fic Summary: You’ve lived next door to Jensen and Jared for a year and have had a somewhat strained relationship. After a recent and massive change in your life your paths cross again and they discover the cause of that, and bridges start to mend in unexpected ways.

Characters: Jensen x Reader, Jared x Platonic!Reader

Chapter Word Count: 2989

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Quick but Sweet Smut

Warnings: Very short NSFW (no GIFS), my first attempt at smut (which is a warning in itself), swearing again

Trigger Warning: Descriptions of domestic violence.

A/N: I wasn’t planning to post this so soon but I’ve been blown away by its popularity, and everyone has been so kind, so I wanted to post this quickly as a thank you xx

—————————————————————————

A few hours later you had successfully proved to Jensen that he was indeed a suck shot, and that there was only one Queen of Halo in the World. He couldn’t help but steal glances at you from time to time, your smile as you gamed was intoxicating and he didn’t feel like he could ever get enough. This Y/N was a stark contrast to the one from only a few hours prior, it was like you were a new person the second you stepped into his apartment.

“Dude, you’re looking at me again,” you said bluntly as you stared at the screen with your controller right at your chest, concentrating on the shot. You felt Jensen shift next to you nervously and you giggled.

“Sorry, it’s just nice. To see you smiling,” he replied blushing.

“I hope to do THAT more often,” you replied, hitting pause and turning to grin at him. Your eyes caught movement behind the curtain and Jensen saw a flash of fear across your face before you realised it was Jared returning home. You relaxed as he opened the door, and he looked at you in surprise.

“Y/N! Hey, it’s good to see you! I see you took Jay up on his offer to hang out?” he said with a smile.

“Yer but you didn’t tell me how bad he is at this game. A little warning next time Jared,” you scoffed.

“OK OK, enough with the beat down. I’m a good shot and you can’t convince me otherwise,” he told you, taking a sip of his beer.

“Um Y/N? A taxi pulled up to your driveway as I came in. Are you expecting someone?” Jared asked, putting his bag down. You looked at him with wide eyes.

“Oh shit, I forgot I had a doctor’s appointment!” you gasped, standing up quickly holding your side to avoiding jostling your stomach around. Jensen made to help you stand but you brushed him off. “I gotta run, thanks for the game Jay!”

“Do you need me to go with you?” he asked concerned. Jared flashed him a confused glance while you smiled back.

“It’s ok, thank you though. Gotta get used to this independence thing. Catch you later though?”

“Absolutely, come over whenever you get back.”

You waved at them both as you walked out the door and closed it behind you, and once Jared was sure you were in the taxi he spoke up.

“Dude, I’ve been gone for 5 hours and suddenly you’re offering to take her to doctors’ appointments?” Jared asked incredulously. Jensen sighed and threw him a beer from the fridge.

“Sit down, I’ll catch you up.”

2 hours later you stepped gingerly out of the taxi, holding your side as you walked to your apartment. After having your wound poked and prodded you were feeling a bit sore and sorry for yourself, and looking forward to lying on your couch with something binge-worthy. As you unlocked your door you heard your neighbours’ door open, and were surprised to turn and see Jared standing there and not Jensen as you expected.

“Hey Jared, how’s it going?” you asked tiredly, holding onto the door handle for support.

“Yer fine, I just wanted to make sure you were ok. Jay filled me in while you were gone,” he replied, looking downcast. You nodded with a frown.

“I’m ok. Well, I’m not like fabulous or anything but I’m doing fine, and I know you guys are right next door which feels nice. The paper-thin walls I hated so much over the last year are suddenly making me feel so much safer,” you laughed half-heartedly. “Anyway, I’m gonna head inside and watch something trashy, see ya.”

“Well actually, speaking of trashy, that was the other reason I came over,” he said, handing a box set over to you. You raised an eyebrow as you saw the front cover, and grinned when his face stared back at you.

“Season One of Supernatural? This is brilliant,” you laughed. “And not at all trashy.”

“Have you seen it? I just thought, with Michael being like he was…”

“No no, I haven’t. I mean, I knew you guys did the show because I’ve seen the ads… I always thought it looked pretty awesome. And you’re right, I’d never get to watch this in a million years before.”

“Well, maybe you can now,” he said with a smile. You looked up into his eyes and were suddenly overcome with a strange urge. Pushing yourself forward, you reached out and wrapped your arms around his waist and rest your head against his chest, experiencing your first genuine hug in about a year. He happily returned it, being careful not to hurt you by squeezing too hard.

“Thanks Jare, really,” you told him, feeling a little emotional over the contact.

“Anytime. Consider it part of my penance for being a crappy neighbour,” he replied, to receive a slap on the arm.

“Don’t be daft. You have nothing to feel bad about, either of you,” you told him firmly, and he put his palms up in surrender.

“OK OK, don’t take my arm off,” he replied jokingly. You started to go inside when a thought occurred to you.

“Hey, if you want to watch yourselves killing bad guys come on over, my couch is big enough for three,” you told him with a wink. He laughed and waved you off, letting you go instead and get comfortable with your new favourite TV show.

For the next couple of days the guys would listen to their voices floating through the walls. You really knew how to binge they thought impressed, and pretty soon you were halfway through the season. They opted not to watch it with you, giving you a bit of space and allowing you to watch without the running commentary from them that they knew they’d have trouble biting back. A couple of times you came by for a beer and to ask questions. Another time they were interrupted by pounding on the wall followed with “You’re not gonna die, right Jay? Sam’s gonna fix ya… RIGHT?” to which all they could respond with was laughter.

Your scream of “WHAT!!!” signalled the end of the season, and they prepared a beer for your entrance. Two seconds later you bolted through the door looking dishevelled.

“How could they leave it there? You get hit by a damn truck? You survive right? Well, I guess you must, you’re still going to work but what about John? Gah! I hate this show,” you complained, catching the drink as it was thrown to you and taking a swig.

“And of course, by hate you mean you want to marry it and have little Supernatural babies right?” Jensen asked with a smirk. You glowered at him before swearing.

“You know me too well Ackles.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Months passed and you seemed to be doing well. You and the guys had developed a real lasting friendship, though you definitely had a greater connection with Jensen. To say you had a little crush was an understatement but being certain he’d never feel the same about you you pushed those feelings down to the deepest depths of your soul. The day your mother turned up at your doorstep however threatened to change everything.

“Mom, what are you doing here?” you asked meekly. She was always a powerful woman, which you surmised was probably why you’d fallen in with Michael in the first place.

“I’m here to bring you home Y/N,” she announced, barging in and standing in the middle of your living room. You closed the door, silently praying no-one was home next door to hear this exchange.

“Enough is enough, you’ve been living on your own now for months without a job, without a husband, without support of any kind and I’ve had enough. I can only take so many phone calls listening to your pathetic lies about those horrid actors before coming down here and straightening you out myself. I mean honestly Y/N, you’ve burrowed yourself into a little hole here and made up this ridiculous fantasy life filled with Hollywood heartthrobs and I’m tired of it. This is Vancouver for goodness sake, not California. Now Michael wasn’t perfect but at least he was real and he provided for you. You’re coming home and I’m getting you some help. NOW!”

You cowered at her tone, unable to help yourself. With the help of the guys you had come completely out of your shell but her behaviour was giving you flashbacks to your previous life. You felt a tear slip down your cheek, and before you could nod your head in acceptance you heard your door knock. There was literally only one of two people this could be, and with a resigned sigh you opened the door a couple of inches.

“Get rid of them Y/N, we have work to do,” your Mother stated firmly from behind you as she started to inspect the living room.

You looked up to see Jensen’s angry face looking back at you. “Now’s not a good time Jay,” you told him, moving to shut the door. He put his foot in the way however and reached out to take your hand.

“Play along alright?” he whispered, low enough for only you to hear, before pushing the door open wide and entering. “Sweetheart, you didn’t mention your mother was coming to visit!” He exclaimed loudly, grabbing the attention of your mother who was currently throwing your Dean and Sam bobbleheads in the bin. She stared at him with her mouth open wide, before holding out her hand to offer a handshake.

“Hello, and you are?” she replied, taking in his height and appearance. “You just called my daughter ‘sweetheart’, however she’s yet to mention to me that she has a partner.”

She retreated her hand at this point, noting with disdain his refusal to shake it.

“Are you sure about that? Because I’m almost certain I overheard you say just now that you HAD heard of those ‘horrid actors’.”

The colour drained from your mother’s face at this point as realisation hit that you’d been telling her the truth this entire time, though she kept her composure. Standing as tall as she could she clutched her bag to her side, simply for something to hold onto.

“So, you ARE real. I would have expected any actor with the brains to rise to star in his own television show to be smart enough to know when he’s too good for my daughter. So, you’ll have to excuse my disbelief at Y/N’s wild stories.”

You looked to the ground, tears falling quietly at her words. They cut deep because you knew they were true, and you felt Jensen’s grip tighten around your hand.

“Now you listen here. Y/N is an intelligent, funny and incredibly generous human being. Meeting you I have to wonder where on God’s green Earth she picked that up because she certainly didn’t learn them from you. But, however it happened, I am eternally grateful to call her my fiancée. I am supporting her in every way possible and will be sure to cross you off the guest list, because we’ll only be inviting friends and family to our wedding. Hollywood weddings and all; I’m sure you understand.”

You had barely heard anything after the word fiancée, but based on your mother’s expression it can’t have been good. You held Jensen’s hand tighter as you watched her face go from a bright red to a light purple, and without a word she stomped out of your apartment and slammed the door behind her. You were shaking and you felt Jensen’s arms wrap around you tightly.

“It’s ok, you’re safe I promise,�� he told you gently, stroking your hair. You burrowed your face into his chest and let the tears come, not even caring that you were sobbing by this point. He carefully pulled you toward the couch and sat you down next to him as you wept.

10 minutes later you felt you had cried all the tears you could. To his credit he hadn’t moved an inch the entire time, stroking your hair and muttering the odd word of affection here and there.

“How’re you doing?” he asked concerned as you pulled away. You wiped your wet cheeks with the palm of your hand and huffed out a laugh.

“Dude, you essentially told my mother to fuck off. I’m better than I’ve been in ages.”

“Are you sure?” he asked with a frown. “I’m so sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have but hearing her speak to you like that just made me so angry and I couldn’t-“

“Shush,” you told him sternly. “That woman... she may have given birth to me but she was never a mother. I could never stand up to her but you did it for me and I’m beyond grateful. I can’t even begin to think what might have happened to me if I’d gone with her. Jay... I’m pretty sure you just saved my life.”

You looked up into his eyes so he could see the sincerity in them, and he too stared back at you before his gaze fell to your lips. You noticed his breathing quicken as he leaned forward, and before you realised what was happening his lips were on yours. You sharply inhaled through your nose in surprise, and quickly returned the kiss with a low moan at the back of your throat. He lifted you from your place on the couch so you were sitting in his lap, while you ran your hands through his hair as your pace quickened, your tongues sliding in and out of each other’s mouths without hesitation. You could feel the bulge in his jeans growing, which in turn caused your own tingles in places you didn’t know could do that anymore. With one swift motion you unbuttoned your top to expose your bare chest, and Jensen pulled back unexpectedly.

“Y/N,” he panted, wetting his lips as he took you in. A look of concern flashed across his face and he opened his mouth to speak but you quickly placed your palm against his mouth and looked into his eyes with a smile.

“Yes, I want this. Yes, I’m on the pill. No, I don’t care about what I’ve been through anymore. All I want is to feel you pressed up against my naked body... preferably in the bedroom as the couch is quite sma-“

You let out a happy squeal as Jensen immediately stood and held you straddled on his hips, supporting you by holding his hands under your ass. You started sucking his neck as he carried you, and he let out a low groan of approval before you felt yourself being gently thrown onto the bed. He ripped off his top, and you giggled as you heard a few buttons tinkle as they hit your bedroom wall and floor. He shrugged with a grin before throwing himself on top of you, straddling each leg on either side of yours as he grinded himself against you. Your lips found each other and you proceeded to unbutton his pants and slide them down his legs with your feet. The skirt you were wearing had now ridden up so far it was on your belly, giving Jensen easy access to reach down and touch your now wet clit. It took you by surprise and the moan that escaped your lips was almost animalistic, as your back arched off the mattress unconsciously.

“Please,” you begged quietly. “Jay, I need you inside me. It’s been so long...”

You felt your underwear being pushed aside, and his tip pressed against you before you sensed his hesitation. You looked to find him watching for your reaction, and when you leaned up to kiss him harder before pulling him back down onto the mattress with you, he slid himself in. You let out a little gasp, and he whipped his head up to look at you concerned.

“Y/N? Are you ok?”

You nodded with a smile as a tear escaped from the corner of your eye. Jensen didn’t look at all convinced, and pulled himself up on his arms to see you properly.

“I swear Jay, I promise I’m fine. It’s just... this is the first time in a long time that it hasn’t hurt. This is incredible,” you whispered, running your hand through his hair and smiling as a grin spread across his face.

“I’m going to make you feel so good babe, I swear it,” he replied, leaning back down to kiss your neck as he started to pull himself back and forth inside you. Your bodies rocked together on the bed as you quickly neared climax, the unspoken understanding between you that while the feeling was sensational, this wasn’t the right time to draw it out. You could feel the pressure building inside you and your cries became louder and closer together. He thrust harder and faster, his eyes squeezed shut tightly.

“Cum for me baby, I’m right there, fuck,” he swore, and as you felt yourself tip over the edge his body shuddered as he came inside you. You swore loudly as he continued to thrust and pulled yourself closer against his body as you rode out the waves which felt never-ending. When they finally did Jensen pulled out and laid himself across your body with a content sigh. You lay underneath him, not giving an ounce of care to the sheets on the bed as you chose to just snuggle in his embrace rather than jump straight into the shower like you used to. It was a foreign concept to you and you quickly fell asleep with a smile on your face, comforted by the knowledge that your old life was now officially 100% behind you.

Chapter Three (final) coming soon

SPN-FICFANATIC MASTERLIST

"HALO” MASTERLIST - CHAPTER ONE - CHAPTER THREE

Tag Lists (Open) Halo Series taglist: @ocean-waves-that-misbehave, @flamencodiva @krys198478, @lostnnot2befound, @deansyahtzee, @gloriousartisanfancreator, @anathewierdo , @darkswanordie , @ravenesque, @mirandaaustin93 , @thekatherinewinchester (won’t tag *SOB*), @letmebeyoursforever “Dean/Jensen” taglist: @lilydarcy (won’t tag *SOB*) “Everything” taglist: @angelsandwinchesters, @grace-for-sale, @growningupgeek, @iamnotsaneatall, @nanie5, @waywardasfudge, @ronja-uebrick, @im-dead-inside05, @julzdec, @adoptdontshoppets, @meghanbeinghappy, @sleepylunarwolf , @sammysgirl1997

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owlways-and-forever · 6 years ago

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Summary: Lily Evans thought her life would be normal. Well, as normal as it can be for a muggle-born witch in England. But when her boyfriend turns out to be the prince of the wizarding world, and tensions begin to rise among factions of wizarding society, Lily must find her way in situations she never anticipated, and try not to lose sight of her identity. Word Count: 3,518 (8,979) Links: ao3 | FFnet | Tumblr: Ch 1, Ch 2

A/N: Happy Easter/Passover everyone!! This is the longest chapter so far, but it will not be the longest! Anyway, got some fun holiday stuff for ya this week, and I hope you all enjoy it! As always, comments are very much appreciated! <3 :)

Chapter 3

Christmas came quickly at Hogwarts, the temperature dropping and frost coating every leaf and blade of grass each morning. Students faced intense end of term projects and exams in nearly all of their classes, and so the library had become the most populated place in the school each evening. Teachers lit fires in their classrooms to add heat during the day, and everyone walked around, bundled up. The castle was beautiful, but the stone did little to keep out the cold.

Lily found herself adjusting to a new reality of her life. That she, of all people, was dating a prince - the Prince, the heir to the throne of the magical United Kingdom - was quite a shock at times. She wasn’t typically one to waver in confidence, but at times she felt astonished that a prince would choose her, want her. But then James would inevitably do something stupid and she would think that it wasn’t a prince that wanted her, but James Potter, her James. He hardly ever seemed like a prince - chewing on his glasses while he thought, and participating in reckless pranks with Sirius, Remus and Peter. The more time they spent together, the more he became her James, a secret person that no one else knew but her. He radiated heat when they cuddled and yelped when she touched her cold feet to his lava-like skin. He drew doodles on her skin and connected her freckles in patterns and constellations.

As term progressed, Lily spent more and more of her time with James. They walked together between classes, and sat together when they could. At meal times, Lily often sat with James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter, but James sat with Lily and Mary and Marlene and Dorcas nearly as often. Sometimes the whole lot of them sat together, and Lily would nudge James sharply whenever she saw Mary eyeing Sirius with a blush on her cheek. They would study together, and relax together in the evenings, and go to Hogsmeade together as often as they were allowed. For quidditch games, Lily would wear James’ practice robes (she made sure he always washed them beforehand, after the first time), and paint her face and spray gold streaks in her red hair.

She kept her promise to James, and didn’t tell the girls his secret, no matter how much she wanted to. Marlene had added another reason why James likely was the Prince (Marlene overheard Peter teasingly call James ‘Your Highness’ and seen Sirius curtsey to him), and two more why he likely wasn’t (“he’s much taller than the Prince, didn’t you see the photos in the Prophet over the summer?”; the whole Royal family is supposed to be excellent potioneers, but you know how dreadful James is at Potions). She could imagine how Marlene would react if Lily told her that James Potter was in fact a member of the royal family, slack jawed and throwing pillows at Lily for not saying anything sooner, before peppering her with five hundred questions about James and the royal family, most of which would probably be inappropriate.

As the last days of term flew by, snow began to fall, promising a white Christmas at Hogwarts, and Lily and James tried to steal every last moment they could together. There were three days after the end of classes before students would return home on the train, which Lily and James spent nearly entirely together. During the day they often hung out with their friends, having snowball fights or playing games by the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room. But after dinner, the two of them would sneak off to be alone, wherever they could find space. Sometimes it was a deserted classroom, sometimes a squished broom closet, where every inch of their bodies was pressed together. On the last night before leaving for break, James took her to the Room of Requirement.

It had outfitted itself like a little studio apartment, and Lily didn’t realize that it was, in fact, a shifting room until James told her about how they had found it, the things that had happened there. On this occasion, there was a little sitting area, complete with a sofa, armchair, and a crackling fireplace. A small, round dining table stood directly in front of the door, set with candles and a plate of chocolate covered strawberries. To the side stood a large king size bed, covered in plush crimson blankets and pillows that looked like clouds. Lily paled a little when she saw the bed, wondering if James was expecting them to go all the way. They’d fooled around, quite a bit, cuddled up in bed often, and even spent the occasional night asleep in each other’s arms, but they’d always stopped short of having sex. As if reading Lily’s trepidation, the room conjured translucent curtains that dropped from the ceiling, shrouding the bed. If James noticed the change, which he must have, he said nothing about it, just lightly letting go of Lily’s hand so he could drop onto the sofa, swinging his legs up and grinning at her.

“Excited to see your family?” James asked, making small talk.

“Yeah,” Lily said, still standing a little ways away. “I always miss them, but… Petunia’s been a bit more distant this year, so I guess I’m a little nervous too.”

“Gonna tell them about me?” he continued, raising an eyebrow at his girlfriend.

“If it comes up,” Lily shrugged, which elicited a pout from James. She laughed at his response, which relaxed her a little, and she sat down lightly in his lap. “Well, I’m not going to make a big announcement of it.”

James’ fingers found the ends of Lily’s red hair, rolling strands of it between his fingertips. She hummed happily and he watched the smile spread on her face, content to stay with her like this forever.

“I have something for you,” he said abruptly, tugging his wand from his back pocket. “A Christmas present.”

“But it’s not Christmas yet,” Lily protested, suddenly feeling guilty that her present for him was still bag in the girls’ dormitory, unwrapped.

“I know, but I wanted to give it to you in person,” he answered, flicking his wand in the direction of his bag. A shallow square box floated toward them, wrapped in plaid wrapping paper.

Lily unwrapped the gift delicately, revealing a jewelry box inside, and her heart leapt into her throat. It felt far too early in their relationship for him to be gifting her jewelry. Heart pounding furiously, Lily opened the box, and gasped. Inside, nestled against the blue velvet, was a beautiful ruby pendant. The teardrop-shaped gem was surrounded by a halo of small, crystal clear diamonds, all of which shone like liquid. The magnificent confection hung on the most delicate chain of white gold that Lily had ever seen, and it seemed to ripple and move as she shifted the box. She could tell that it was created and imbued with magic, something deep and ancient and beautiful.

“Do you like it?” James asked tentatively, his hazel eyes wide as he watched her, searching for any sign of her response.

“James, its… it’s stunning,” she answered, and his face lit up like the sun at her words. She wanted to tell him that it was too much, that she couldn’t accept, but he was so happy, and she couldn’t bear to take that away from him. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Good, good,” he sighed, looking so relieved that his gift had been received well. He took the box from her hands and lifted the necklace out of it, moving to clasp it around her neck. “It looks so beautiful on you, Lily,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple.

For a brief moment, Lily felt like a doll, being dressed up and then congratulated on how pretty she looked, and she wondered if a future with James meant feeling like that forever. But she tamped the feeling down, reminding herself that there were good things about the monarchy, that they had some power and a great deal of influence. It wasn’t all fancy dresses and extravagant jewelry. And it really was very nice of James to get her something so beautiful, and so expensive.

“Is everything alright?” he asked, eyeing her with concern.

“I just… I don’t know when I’d wear it, it’s so…” Lily’s fingers found the pendant and brushed against it delicately as she tried to find the right words.

“No, no, it’s an every day sort of thing,” James insisted, his eyes growing wide, and he took her hands squeezing them. “It’s just a little pendant, nothing crazy. I didn’t want to get you something that you’d only be able to wear on special occasions.”

“Right,” Lily said, swallowing her discomfort and forcing a smile. “I just worry that I might lose it, or break the chain or something.”

“You won’t, it’s enchanted,” James replied, shaking his head lightly.

Lily smiled weakly at the thought and pulled her hands away, fingers finding the necklace once more. Perhaps in time she would grow more comfortable with it, and she could certainly try, for James’ sake. It wasn’t his fault that they came from such vastly different economic backgrounds, after all.

They continued talking, about nothing and everything all at once. Stories of Christmases past, the traditions that they looked forward to and even the ones that they hated. They laughed at Sirius, who had tried everything he could to avoid going home for the break. When they both got peckish, Lily summoned the strawberries over to them, and they gorged themselves, until Lily decided to throw them at James and see if he could catch them in his mouth. He failed miserably, and strawberries ended up scattered across the floor, collecting dust as the chocolate softened and melted.

The heat of the fire began to addle their minds as sleep tugged, and their antics became more foolish and drowsy. James stood at last, reaching for Lily’s hand and tugging her up to join him. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her tightly against him, and nuzzling her hair as she rested her head on his shoulder.

“I rather fancy a kip, don’t you?” James teased, leading Lily toward the bed.

He shifted the curtains to the side and Lily saw two sets of pajamas folded neatly at the foot of the bed, and she sighed happily. He wasn’t expecting anything out of the ordinary for them then. Lily slipped out of her clothes and into the silk pajamas set out for her, enjoying the way they slid over her skin like water. Her fingers lingered on the necklace for a moment, wondering if she should take it off, but she decided against it, letting it hang heavy against her sternum. James pulled his own pajama pants on, but tossed the shirt aside. Lily knew that he usually slept fully clothed, but when he was with her, he preferred to go shirtless. She crawled into bed and he flopped down next to her, running his hand haphazardly through his hair as he yawned. They began to doze off quickly, Lily’s hands drifting across James’ chest in soothing motions.

“I love you,” he whispered, snuggling closer to her, and Lily wondered if he even realized what he had said. He didn’t seem to react at all, and not a few moments later he began snoring lightly.

“I love you too, James,” she answered once she was sure he was out, pressing a kiss to her sleeping boyfriend’s forehead.

* * * * *

Lily said goodbye to James as they boarded the Hogwarts Express back to London. They thought it was important that they each have some time alone with their friends, since they had spent the entire night together. As the other girls nattered away happily, Lily idly fingered the pendant around her neck, feeling the weight of it as she rolled it through her fingertips. It wasn’t just the weight of the stone and the setting and the chain that tugged at her, but the weight of the sentiment behind it. More than anything else this necklace, and the words that James had uttered in his sleep the night before, made what they had feel real, and solid, and unchangeable. She wasn’t sure if it scared her or made her feel safe - was it possible to be both?

“Look, Lily, we all know you have a super hot, super rich boyfriend to daydream about, but could you at least try to pay attention to our conversation?” Marlene snapped, bringing Lily’s focus back to their train compartment.

“Sorry,” she said looking at her hands in shame. It was possible that she hadn’t been the best friend lately. “What were we talking about?”

“I was saying that Mary should just forget about Sirius, because he’s definitely gay, but Dorcas disagrees and she thinks Mary should just ask him out, because ‘girl power’,” Marlene said, annoyance colouring her voice. “And Mary says she can’t possibly ask him out because she’d be way too nervous.”

Mary blushed a deep pink, and Lily tried to offer her a kind smile. Unfairly, blushing always looked so flattering on Mary, giving her a soft, feminine sort of glow. When Lily blushed, she just looked like some kind of multi-tone tomato.

“Well, I’m not sure if he’d be interested or not, but you could definitely ask him, what’s the worst that could happen?” Lily offered, not really sure what advice to give. It had only been a few months, but already she felt so far removed from the world of crushes and trying to figure out if someone liked you back.

“He could say no and everyone could laugh at me!” Mary whispered, almost like she was afraid that speaking the words would make them come true.

“That wouldn’t happen -” Lily began to protest, but Marlene scoffed at her.

“Come on, Lily, surely James has given some kind of hint about who Sirius might be interested it,” she insisted, brown eyes boring into Lily.

“I don’t really th -” Lily started, before a memory surfaced. “Hang on, didn’t Sirius ask you out?”

Marlene spluttered and Mary looked at her with wide eyes while Dorcas shook her head. Apparently, Marlene hadn’t chosen to share that information.

“I don’t think he was really interested in dating me,” Marlene said quickly, almost pleading with Mary. “He just wanted to get in my pants, and I said no.”

“Did you want to say yes?” Mary asked, her voice small.

“No, Mary, I would never do that to you,” Marlene replied.

“But did you want to?” Mary repeated.

Marlene was silent, and it was enough for all of them to know the answer to that question. Mary looked like she was about to burst into tears, and she stood up, moving toward the door of the compartment.

“I’m going to go for a walk,” she said, opening the door.

“Mary!” they all called, but she shook her head.

“No, it’s okay, I’m okay, I just need a minute alone,” she said, quieting them before leaving the compartment.

The moment the door was shut behind her, Marlene turned on Lily.

“Why would you say that?” she hissed, eyes flashing.

“I thought you would have told her!” Lily said, trying to defend herself.

“Why would I ever tell her something that would only upset her?” Marlene spat, anger pouring off of her in waves.

“Because we’re best friends,” Lily argued, her brows furrowing, “and we don’t keep things like that from each other. It would’ve been better for her to hear it from you, because you know she was bound to find out about it eventually.”

“Right, like you’ve told us everything about James,” Marlene said, rolling her eyes dramatically.

Lily flushed red, very much aware that Marlene was right. She was hardly one to talk about keeping secrets. She wondered if it ever got easier... probably not.

“That’s different,” Lily stammered, trying to rationalize things. It’s different because he’s the prince. It’s different because he lives in hiding. It’s different because it’s not just from you, it’s from everyone. “I’m in a relationship with him, there are things that are personal, private, between us. But what you kept… it affects Mary, and you should have told her.”

Marlene crossed her arms, sulking against the back of her seat. Dorcas shrugged, content to stay out of this little fight, and pulled out a book, skimming through it quickly. Lily looked out the window, leaning her forehead against the cool glass as she toyed with the pendant around her neck. She wished her mind would just stop buzzing for a little while. It wasn’t long until Mary returned, finding them all silent and a little sullen, but she had a grin spreading across her face.

“You’re chipper,” Marlene said, looking a little bit pouty still, not that she really had much right to be upset with Mary.

“I did it,” Mary answered in an excited little whisper as she sat down in her seat again.

“Did what?” Dorcas asked, looking up from her book and sliding a marker in place to hold her page.

“I asked him out,” Mary said, bouncing in her seat a bit.

“Judging by your enthusiasm, I’m guessing he agreed?” Dorcas asked, and Mary nodded.

“Tell us everything!” Lily squealed happily.

“Well, I was just walking through the corridors,” Mary said, gesturing animatedly as she spoke, “just kind of thinking, and I bumped into him, as he was going to find the food trolley. And we were just chatting about school and break and everything, stuff, and I don’t know, I just asked if he’d want to go to Hogsmeade with me sometime when we got back from break. And he looked surprised, but happy and he agreed and we said we’d talk a bit over the holidays.”

“That’s great, Mary!” Lily gushed, leaning over to hug her friend. She wasn’t sure if Mary and Sirius were the best match (not least of all because his family was not likely to accept a muggle-born), but for now it made her friend happy, so she was all for it.

The rest of the train ride seemed to fly by, now that their compartment was filled with happier spirits. As they pulled into Kings Cross, Lily really began to feel the excitement at seeing her family again. Somehow she rarely fully realized how much she missed them while she was at school.

Lily bounded off the train and into her family’s arms, hugging first her mother, then Petunia, and then her father. He picked up her luggage for her and led them all to the car, Lily and Petunia walking with linked arms. It wasn’t until they were seated in the back seat of the little coupe and on their way home that Petunia noticed the glint of red around her sister’s neck.

“Where’d you get that?” she asked, poking at the little pendant lightly.

“Oh, um,” Lily hesitated, blushing furiously, “my boyfriend gave it to me for Christmas.”

Lily swore her father almost drove them off the road, in his surprise. Mr. Evans was usually a fairly calm and collected man, but when it came to his baby girl dating… well, fathers were just never ready for that.

“What boyfriend?” Petunia said, surprise evident in her voice.

“I’m sure I’ve mentioned James before,” Lily said, her face turning even more red. “But we started going out at the beginning of term, and I guess now it’s a thing…”

“Must be pretty serious if he’s giving you such fancy jewelry,” Petunia pressed, raising an eyebrow.

Lily turned scarlet, and she was sure she was glowing brighter than a traffic light at this point.

“I guess,” she admitted, wanting to talk about anything but her relationship. “How are things with Michael?”

“Over,” Petunia clucked sharply. “He was kind of awful.”

Lily giggled a little at that, and her laughter spread to Petunia, until both of them were doubled over laughing, tears welling in their eyes for no reason at all. It was always nice to find, whenever she came home, that some things never changed.

#marauders #jily #james potter #lily evans #Mary MacDonald #gen writes #ATtTR #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #petunia dursley

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queencryo · 6 years ago

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Journal 3

now with readmore

Journal 3

So! After typing up the last blog post, it was like… 6 am, or some shit like that. And so I finally went to sleep, very very very tired.

Silly and I had planned for me to have the buffalo chicken dip ready before she got home form work, but I… fucked that up, and slept until like 630 pm. She didn’t seem to be upset by it, but I kind of was so. Anyway!

I started on the dip, and she came home, I welcomed her (I love welcoming her home. It makes me look forward to being here long-term). Dip didn’t get started in the crockpot until like 730, 8 (I had to heat freezer chicken so it was cuttable and not frozen, I used the stove) (normally I use regular raw chicken, but I got nervous while shopping with silly’s mom so I like. Just got freezer chicken.) It turned out pretty well actually! The freezer chicken tasted very good on its own, and I’m just now realizing that after a couple days in the fridge the chicken starts breaking down in the dip anyway (I didn’t realize this until silly pointed it out, cuz I’m a [not stupid, but I don’t pay very much attention to things around me])

On that note, me and silly have started, like. Trying to be mean to ourselves less. It started cuz she. Is very mean to herself, but I then realized I still am too, so we’re! trying to do that less. It’s neat I guess. I like it. Kindness is good.

Don’t remember what was eaten for dinner that night. Something? Went upstairs to watch something while the dip cooked.

The dip was good! Silly says it was good, and that makes me very very happy. I added like. A good amount of buffalo sauce after it was done cooking, cuz it still needed some more kick. Ya know? Some kick? (I’m typing this on my laptop so I’m like. Kind of zoning out while I’m typing it. Dw about it)

Around then I realized that silly might have problems eating that as a meal bc chips are carbs are sugar, so… bleh. Still, *I’ll* eat it as meals, nyeh. I think I’ll ocntinue using raw chicken for the dip at home, it’s nice to have the leftovers from it to put into spaghetti. Chicken spaghetti.

That night I resolved to just not sleep and stay up and eat breakfast with silly before she went to work, because that seemed very fun and nice ya know? Watched a lot of adventure time, I think I’m up to like. Season 5 now (the long one)

But… around an hour before she was scheduled to wake p I was like “oh well I mean it’ll be fine if I just… sleep for an hour and wake up with her…”

Long story short I slept until about 530 pm, and was startled to wake to an empty bed. Apparently I sleepily said I loved her before she left, though, so I guess that’s not a total loss.

So! Later that night, silly comes home all excited, and like. “Hey we should buy an xbox one”

And you know I am nothing if not someone who is willing to make very expensive decisions for like no reason. So long story short we go to gamestop, and make a delightful purchase of Halo: master chief collection, two controllers, Mass Effect: Andromeda, and NO t-shirts that say gamer girl >>>:(

Ate a place in town that is apparently The Local Wing Place. I got. Mild wings, which honestly were barely even hot. I guess I shoulda heeded the menu bit that said the mild was mostly butter. A fool am I. The fried pickles were spears not slices so they were like! Still good, EXTREMELY hot but still good.

Came home, set up the xbox. Halo requires downloading of all the games (because of course). It’s like. 70 GB, but we reduce this by setting Halo 3 to higher priority and disabling Halo 4.

Playing 3 with silly was very fun. She’s way way better at it than me, mostly bc she is smart and stays back whereas I, dumbo raised on normal difficulty that I am, rush in and die quickly in heroic.

She spent like. An hour and a half or something updating her old xbox account. Her new xbox avatar looks way better, and is extremely cool (like her). She says it feels really nice updating all of that to her new self. I can understand the feeling: ridding the wolrd of another footprint of a you that’s a lie is. Very nice, I think.

So we played more halo! No highlights, I think, but it was really nice. And fun. I’m a girl and I’m gay now and I love jesus, but I still love halo C:

I ALSO brought fable 2 along, and played it while silly slept. Gotdamn I fucking love fable 2. Silly says I’m cute when I’m really excited about something. I was REALLY excited about fable 2. I think this is the first time I’ve ever done a run that’s (hopefully) gonna be mostly strength, and possibly I’m gonna use a hammer, where before I always ALWAYS used a katana. But. I just unlocked third level shock (oo) and a very pretty steel cleaver (ooo), so… ….. hopin’ I’ll be a good bastard.

Next day. Went with silly to work, as it was Friday and Time For The Magic Commander (Commeownder, in the local parlance). I only played commander a little bit, though, before silly called me over “hey do you wanna join the draft so that there are 5 rounds and everyone suffers” (my words not hers), and of course yes, that sounds so fun.

So! What draft is is each table (of I think eight people?) opens a pack of cards for each person there. You pick out the card you want from that pack, and pass it on to the next person. Then pick a card from the new pack, then the next, then so on and on. It was very fun, and I fell kinda quickly into running a Golgari (green and black) deck, which went well for me I think? (Also I just. Like golgari. They’re cool, and not annoying like blue). I had a lot of undergrowth effects, which depended on how many creatures I had in my graveyard. MEANING, that I had a lot of creatures in my deck, and enough land to keep them flowing. So, at one point, I had a, I think, 13/13 or 16/16 (idr) Rhizome lurker (gains +1/1 for each creature in graveyard), so that was… cool? Neat?

I won my first match of the draft, largely due to my opponent offering me a lot of tips cuz I was new (the boyfriend (boyfriend, right? They’re not married?) of the person silly had an encounter with a couple months ago. I think that was before we were dating. But that guy was my first opponent, and it went well?) largely due to his help, I won te first game of the match, then the second game timed out.

Second match was against F, who everyone silly knows apparently has a crush on (I also have a crush on them (they/them)), they were very very sweet and I enjoyed my game with them a lot even though they kicked the love of god out of my ass. But they also like. Told jokes during it, so whatevs. (turns out a deck of flyers will kick a goglari deck with no reach/flying in the ass.) they also helped me edit my deck, so that was very very kind of them, and I very much appreciate it.

Uh… other highlights… uh, I played silly’s ex (they dated for like. I think a month? But still. He’s not nearly as big as silly described him), and apparently hurt his feelings because I am a. very very mean and abrasive person if you take the things I say seriously. I. feel bad about that. And I spent the rest of the night noting to please not take the things I said seriously. I ended the night with 1 win, 1 draw, 3 losses, but that’s? very very much better than I expected, tbh. I guess using a deck I actually had a hand in the creation of helps a lottttt. So that’s cool! Silly said my deck was good, but that as after F edited it, so idk if it counts?

Silly says she’s glad I actually enjoy magic and I’m not just humoring her. I do very much enjoy it! I don’t think I want to get to the level she is at (due to cost, if nothing else), it at the very least will be added to my long list of “things I have or had an interest in, that I have a dabbling or casual knowledge of that is beyond the average person by a degree ranging from slight to significant, but still pales in comparison to the knowledge of an actual practitioner”. … this list is much much longer than the list of things I actually know things about. ;;

Spent like 30 minutes after the draft talking with silly and two regulars. I was annoying and unkind, and felt very unhappy with myself following. I also had to actually leave the store after it closed, since that’s like. The Rules. Silence and isolation (waiting in the car) are not conducive to recovery from self hatred, so that festered a little bit. I was fine eventually, though. Uh… yeah! Had to make a mark in my calendar.

Tried to stay up and play fable, but ended up falling asleep like 10 minutes after silly (I am a fucking scourge and I fail regularly to sleep at the same time as her. I am a Night Bitch)

Oh, also I was unmedicated for the entirety of the draft night, so that’de, like… that’s why I was so fucking annoying all day. That just kinda happens when I’m off it long enough, I guess.

I don’t remember more from that night, so let’s move on.

Got up w silly the next day, ate cereal, went up to the store. Woo!

Sat down with silly’s ex, some other dude. Started reading the book gf gave me about Learning Magic Good And Shit, it was actually real neat and cool! Apparently that’s what he wanted for Christmas, so it was. Slightly awkward!

I read that for a while, then joined in on a magic game. Players: one of the regulars talked to last night before closing, some girl I’d never seen called E (who was very sweet, I now love her), and some dude I don’t remember at all.

We had two games, I only remember that in the second one I ran Estrid The Masked as commander, and that was a. Long Fucking Game. Partially because I had like 11 enchantments on the board at one point, and kept using Estrid and Oath Of Terezi (planeswalkers do TWO things on a turn). Uh…

Highlights:

I had “every time someone casts a spell, make them pay an extra mana or else you can draw another card”, which I then doubled with Estrid’s invocation (at least until I had too many cards to know what to do with, so I put some enchantments in the graveyard before I ulted with estrid) I ulted Estrid like 2-3 times, lmao At one point between ults, I had “all enchantments are creatures” on the field, and then E played “destroy all creatures that aren’t pirates”, so I. lost. Uh. All my motherfucking creatures, except Estrid (not a creature), and a God (had a mask). And ALL my fucking enchantments. WARB- anyway next turn I ulted estrid again and got them all back. Lmfao. at the end of the game it cost about 14 mana / creature to attack me, it was AMAZING, the guy who made fucktons of tokens couldn’t TOUCH me so anyway. I used sacred mesa, plus like 48 mana (untapping all my enchanted lands is GREAT) to create 24 pegasi, which then became 24 4/4 flying angels (Divine Visitation), which was GREAT holy DAMN

I lost in the end, got milled by regular dude for like. 55 cards in one turn.

I coulda prevented this by exiling the creatures he used to mill me, but I just… didn’t. Ever. :C because I’m a foollllllll I also could’ve prevented this by swinging angels at him at the same time I killed the other player (E left before then, I guess she had work or something), but I just. Didn’t do that, because I was scared something would happen to them? It was an eminently foolish thing to not do, especially since I could make So Fucking Many angels. Always. Jesus I could make so many angels.

Meanwhile, silly was moving a shitton of boxes for the Big Fuckhuge Sale the next day. I felt bad that I couldn’t help, but I couldn’t bc if I got injured I could sue. Fair, I guess, but doesn’t make it easier to just sit on the sidelines. At least I brought ibuprofen from home.

Said quick goodbye to regulars who were chill, and who I played my first couple of games with.

Silly got told to just. Go home when her shift ended yesterday, which was upsetting bc she’d been looking forward to playing magic like. The whole day. Not quite the same, but we did play a few games when we got home. So that was nice C:

I ate dip for dinner, silly ate chicken buffalo. She is so. SO bad at eating all the meat on the bones. She says it’s cuz gristle is gross, but like .it’s. it’s MEAT. Eat the meat. So I ate all the gristle off the end of her wings while she said I was disgusting.

We finished halo 3 last night. I felt like. Stupid and bad because I was bein a failure at it, but god that was like. Soooo stupid. Lmfao. I shouldn’t have done that!

I finally managed to log in to my Microsoft account. Apparently my fucking username was staffgripper36, and I have no goddamned clue why that is my username for that.

But I made an avatar and she’s like. Cool af and she has a sundress so I guess I can’t really complain too much, can I?

We also started ODST! It is Neat, and I really like it thus far. I can’t remember ever seeing that intro cutscene in my life, but I guess that’s cuz I was an impatient 12 year old at the time, lmfao.

Then I played fable 2 til 7 am while silly slept. I. Don’t know why I fucking did that. I did get married, though. To marion the bookshop owner. We live in the corner house of the bowerstone market, just like the one playthrough of fable wherein I remember the name of my wife to this day (Hannah the Traveller) That house is my Home, you got me?

Finally onto today! 2520 words in. If words were feet, this journal entry would be a half-mile.

Alright… it has now been more than a full week since I started this journal entry. I’m back in Texas, and I… feel bad for that. I fear how much has been lost.

So! Next morning, I get up with silly and we go to The Work Place. The Big Fucking Sale is going on. I still wished I could help more, but unfortunately that is… not a possibility…

Wandered around the store for a while. Picked up: 4000 AD, a very old-looking game that seems neat. Mostly bought it cuz it looked old and aged as shit founders of gloomhaven, a game I got cuz it reminded me of marielda Anime Chess, that’s not the real name but silly said she’d been thinking about buying it for like. A While, so I bought it because I hate her an AD&D character sheets book, that still had some old character sheets in it (fuckin score) some VERY old vampire the masquerade stuff, including what I’m guessing is probably the first book that offered playing a hunter rather than a vampire? Also the sourcebook as of like 1992. More is the same than is different, though I guess that’s also cuz I barely know modern world of darkness

Sat around and read the hunter book for like. Basically a couple hours or something? Idk. Talked a little bit with some of the regulars, T and her boyfriend.

Eventually, left and went to the ice cream store across the street, ate Goat Cheese Ice Cream Oh Boy, and started writing this journal.

I wrote school’s motto on the chalkboard there, and later heard someone say “I… don’t know what that means. Should I know what that means?

Was surprised by the entrance of Silly. Goodness me I love her so much.

We then went home and like. Chilled.

She made alfredo/lentil pasta (so she doesn’t die from carbs) and fish. I, meanwhile, attempted to make raspberry cheesecake.

I got kinda stressed by the cheesecake process, cuz I was trying to multitask but still didn’t feel like I was going fast enough. I started doing that dumb anxiety over-done stuff thing that I do sometimes.

I then proceeded to open a very-fizzed dr pepper and just kinda. Break down a lil bit. I managed to keep it together until I had the cheesecake done, at least, I’m kinda proud of myself for that!

But yeah. Then I started crying or something, I don’t fully remember. I remember I accidentally made silly cry because I am an idiot, and also I was feeling bad because I felt helpless and pathetic, and typical consolation doesn’t really help with that. I’m sorry for that, darlin.

Anyway. She’s a really good fucking cook, like she’s better than my mom and dad both. Like not to be the kinda person who overpraises ther significant, but :eyes: !!! who knew that adding spices and not cooking from a box improved things??? @mom

I don’t really remember the rest of the night, nothing interesting I suppose. We probably played halo odst or something, and cuddled.

The cheesecake was… not to my taste, personally. Silly claims to kinda like it, but personally it fell into the “this isn’t really that good at all, why do I keep wantng to eat it”, probably my favorite part was the pre-baked crust.

Yeah! Stuf like that.

We got up the next morning. Busy day!!! The next 3 days, silly had em off and we were gonna make this day fuckin WORK for us

So we went to like. The nearby game store

There was a cat! And also I bought some magic card boosters. No news. Why the fuck was there a shitton of pathfinder corebooks on the Shelf O’ Unloved Games. Rude.

Had a fun conversation at a pet store

The game store near where silly worked had some things. She got halo 5, meaning she had The Complete Collection, not that it matters cuz everything after reach sucks. But anyway. She also got an application for there! So that’s really good, yay! Woo!

The nearby hobby shop was very neat, it had a shitton of gundam stuff, and like. Model trains! Wow! Apparently model rockets don’t fuckin come with the engine or anything.g that seems a little silly to me. Also they had some 3-d printing stations, but they’re apparently out for now. Idk whassup there.

Got some jingle bells at the nearby craft store, or whatever. Ran into a coworker of silly’s. she revealed that she almost named herself Katherine, and would’ve shortened it to Cat, meaning we fucking skated THIS close to me just absolutely refusing to talk to her in that alternate timeline.

Ate at dairy queen bc I had a gift card

THRIFT STORES

I made some very VERY nice discoveries. Oh HO, how delightful… some nice mugs, that I decided not to get on account of I was already transporting 3 of the things back home. But uhhh…. I got some cute skirts I think, basically just some bottoms, from the first store. Learned that my feet are not made for thrift store women’s heels. Sob.

Thrift shop two I found some very VERY nice things, including BASEBALL MOM SHIRT, and also a shirt for a basketball team for the immaculate conception high school, or some shit. I’m so excited to reveal that one. Also some things that were actually women’s tops, that might actually fit me or some shit (spoiler, they will not once I retry them on) (lol)

I uh… THINK after that we went home? And made tacos!!!!!! Holy shit silly makes such good fucking tacos oh my god. Like. I used to hate taco night at home, cuz that meant like. Dry hamburger meat with Taco Seasoning from HEB, in a hard taco shell.

But. I have discovered the truth of mixing a bit of salsa, corn, and beans into the meat, and getting it all moist, and also applying sour cream to the tacos. God they were so good holy fuck. Holy fuck. What a goddess.

We then proceeded to, I think, finish halo odst. What absolute heroines we are. I think we also watched all of otgw. I gushed about, like. The painfully o bvious metaphors and stuff that I knew about, and silly thought I was dumb I’m sure. But she did cry at the end, bc it’s very good and also because I was crying.

Stayed up later than silly did. Cried a little bit before I went to sleep because I. love her so much. Dear fuck I love her.

Ate breakfast the next morning. Returned from showering to find that silly was shooting me with a nerf gun. The fucker. We had a nerf gun fight and I’m PRETTY sure I got the better of her, because I’m very good and also extremely cool. :3 side note but she’s so amazing and I love her so much. NOT tearing up a little bit about how I am so extremely blessed to have met her. Jesus.

But uh. After that it was time to start packing, kind of. There was a not-small amount of crying. And divvying up of stuff, since I like. Did NOT have space for all of my things. Three piles: taking with me, hopefully to have mailed back to me (seriously, I need some of that stuff please. :C ), and Giving to silly because I love her and I love giving her things.

In that last group was: my first fountain pen (idk if that one or the one leye gave me was the first one I owned. But hey. Meh.) (I’m just gonna pronounce that as Ley-yey for the rest of my life. For anyone who’s not me, though, it’s like lye). She used it to write poetry on the piece of paper I used to demonstrate how to use it, and to get the ink going, and stuff. She then folded it up to look like a heart, because she’s the biggest dork on earth and also my favorite person ever to live. She did this while she was, in her words, “picking stuff out of the downstairs laundry baskets”, which is why I walked in on her doig this. The second time a ploy like this was foiled by my walking downstairs. What a loser. And yes I cried a LOT on reading that poetry, because, just… jesus. How could I not. my tentacle skirt. Please take care of it, it’s important! Hopefully I have found suitable replacements for it… probably some other stuff? I don’t fully remember… sorry….

She gave me the shirt for the now-defunct electric company owned by the Shithead dad of her childhood friend. Holy FUCK the perfect gift for me. Wow. I love artifacts!!! (we are both magpies lmao)

Never did find that pair of compression shorts she gave me last time I was down. I hope those turn up sometime, they were super handy.

Uh… so yeah. We packed up. Got most of my stuff sorted out, and figured out an outfit for the next day. I think here was where we watched otgw, actually. But yeah! Uh…

I don’t really remember much more, except hugging each other and crying. And remembering that soon I would be apart from her and feeling a deep, yawning sense of loss. And a longing to graduate so I can join her up north.

I tried to go to sleep with her, but I failed. I ended up closing my eyes for a little while, then stealing the 8.5x11 boarding pass I printed and gave to her (we each got one of the boarding passes, and one of the like. Ticket printed things? Of when I went up there. Even), and wrote her a letter on it with my/her fountain pen. I don’t remember much of what it said, beyond that I loved her in a way I never thought possible.

Went to the airport. Cried a little bit on the way there. Focused more on keeping intact for both of our sakes, since we were going on the Frightening route to the airport. I started to break down as I started getting close, thugh. Cried into her arms a little more as I got out of the car and left her behind for another few months. God, Ihate it so much.

Writing these journals this far after the fact is bad both because I don’t remember as much, and also because I start missing her all over again. :C:C:C:C:C

But uh… yeah, Ithink that’s it. Became emotionally dead as I went through the airport. Had to rush to make my first flight. Cuz… wanted to spend as much time as possible with my beautiful girlfriend before we had to go to the accursed birds’ nest. The TSA saw me as a girl. That was cool, but then they patted me down real fuckin thoroughly. Ate a biscuit after getting through. Basically slept through the rest of the thing.

Only started crying again once I got home.

Alright. We’re done here I think. I know I forgot a lot and that *hurts* me, but it’ll be alright. Honk.

These journals will likely get less detailed as time goes on. But as their number is yet small I think it’s okay.

#blog #ohio trip 2

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spiderwingz · 6 years ago

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i forgot to post my fics for klance au month so here ya go

day one: coffee shop

coffee shop confessions

“Oh god oh god ohgodohgodohgod, Keith took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself but his bouncing leg and shaking hands told him (and everyone else in the coffee shop) that Keith was nervous as fuck.

He couldn’t help himself. If anyone else were in his position they would no doubt be as nervous as he is. Planing to confess your love to your best friend who’s probably straight will do that to you.”

day two: galtean

let’s dance under the moonlight

“Prince Keith Kogane of Daibazaal,

You are nearby formally invited to

The kingdom of Balmera’s annual

Blood Moon Ball.

As per request,

The celebration will be a masquerade,

So please remember to bring a masks of sorts.

Failure to do so will result in

A five doubloon fee and a random mask

Being thrust upon you.

Looking forward to seeing you there,

Princess Shay of Balmera”

day three: mermaid

some angels don’t have wings and a halo (they have fins and gills)

“keith wanted to drown himself in the ocean, but the last thing he expected was to be saved by a mermaid

tw// this does contain the talk of drowning, so if things like that aren’t your cup of tea, you don’t need to read this”

day four: hogwarts

you’re sweet enough for me

“Keith works at Honeydukes during the school year and Lance is a Hogwarts student who loves the candy shop, especially after they hire the cute kid with the mullet.

Lance visits enough during the scheduled Hohsmesde visits, imagine who much he’d visit once he found out there’s a secret passage connecting Hogwarts to the Honegdukes storage cellar.”

day five: roommates

i don’t need alcohol to get drunk (because i have you)

“It’s movie night and the boys are watching Tangled. Adding a little wine into the mix equals two wine drunk roommates dancing in front of the television.”

day six: supernatural

i never knew i needed you til i found you

“People have traded their souls for many things.

But never, in all his years as King of Hell, has Lance had someone wanted to sell their soul because they wanted to be Lance’s friend.

tw// major character death, but in a good way, mentions if suicide regarding how keith died”

day seven: internet friends

not even a computer screen can get between my love for you

“For the past six to seven months, Keith has been harboring feelings for his internet friend Lance. Finally getting the courage to admit it to him, Keith requests a video chat, only to learn that he isn’t the only one with news.”

day eight: garrison

give me an hour and i’ll give you a lifetime

“This is Lance’s first time in detention, or Saturday Schiol as the Garrison liked to call it. But he’s not the only one there, Keith’s there as well, for reasons unknown to him.

In the next four hours, the two boys become closer than they would’ve liked thought.”

ive been slow on the rest, but i’m working on it. they should be posted soon. if you’d like updates on when they’re posted, follow me on twitter @/mister_spinch

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sunnydwrites · 7 years ago

Text

The Silk Parade

Part I — Wild Radiance

The cake was salty. Granted, salted caramel cakes were supposed to have a certain degree of salt — it was in the name, after all — but something was off. Natalia gave a tight-lipped smile to the people at her table and excused herself through the food in her mouth, taking her napkin with her.

She had always been told that the food at the biannual Silk Parade was the best in the nation. When the invitation arrived in the mail, she imagined a night full of dishes made by master chefs, accenting their steaks with flecks of gold or whatever it was they did to make food fancy. Only when she was sure nobody was watching did she spit her mouthful into the napkin, grimacing.

“Is everything all right, miss?” someone asked, but she did not look. Instead she nodded and hurried the other way until their hand was on her arm and she was forced to pay some attention.

Natalia forced a smile. “Wonderful,” she said. “Simply delectable.”

The attendant — still holding onto her arm — was resplendent in a dress that seemed to be made entirely out of living flowers and butterflies, and somehow the colors all blended with each other. She took a moment to look the whole thing over, immediately caught up once again in the wondrous aspect of fashion that came with this night. If she remembered correctly, this gala’s theme was “Wild Radiance”, and they captured it perfectly.

Each of the flowers seemed to be a different shade of soft orange or red, blooming and closing as if on their own cycles. The butterflies followed suit, creating a mesmerizing flow of wings and petals that were all somehow perfectly timed with each other.

It put Natalia’s own dress, a fiery orange garment that flared out with petals towards the bottom hem, to shame. She had previously loved the way the orange made her dark brown skin glow, but now the look seemed drab. Underwhelming.

“Excellent,” the attendant smiled. “May I take you on a tour of the kitchen? I’m sure your father would quite like to see our operation.”

“I’m sure he would,” Natalia said. “Too bad you get me instead.”

The attendant simply laughed, but the look in their eyes said it all. “Come this way.”

She followed the attendant across the dining hall, trying to pick out each and every design for the night. How many people would wear these again? How many would be simply tossed aside, shoved into a display case to be seen in mansion hallways decades later?

As they walked, she caught dresses and suits and headwear and jewelry and makeup and all sorts of different wonderful things in brilliant shades of purples and yellow and everything in between. None of them paid her any attention, but why would they? The famous reason she was here wasn’t even at the banquet.

“I think your father would be especially pleased to know that we used his recipes and his recipes only for tonight’s meal,” the attendant said, breaking through Natalia’s haze.

“Only… his recipes?” she asked, and the attendant nodded. “Including the salted caramel cake?”

“How could we exclude that?” they laughed. “It’s iconic.”

“Iconic indeed,” she hummed along, surveying the crowd. What were the chances that she could get back here at the next banquet?

They arrived at the kitchen doors and the attendant pushed them open, inviting Natalia to lead the way. She wasn’t sure what she expected to see, but it wasn’t a large group of teenagers following recipes off the screens of their tablets. They wore plain gray aprons smeared with flour, batter, and various different sauces. They looked clueless and completely exhausted. Natalia raised an eyebrow and the attendant gave a nervous smile before clapping her hands to get the cooks’ attention. “Everyone, this is Natalia,” she said, making a grand gesture, “the daughter of Chef Mirialo.”

Everyone murmured and greeting and went back to their work, except for one worker. She watched Natalia with dark mono-lidded eyes, lifting her chin to meet Natalia’s gaze. The feeling sent shivers down her spine, the sudden feeling of being watched setting her nerves on edge.

“Looks like everything is in order here,” Natalia said, pretending for once to have a knowledge of cooking and how kitchens work.

“Fantastic,” the attendant beamed. “Let’s get you back to your table, then.”

“I actually need to run to the bathroom for a moment,” she said, then hurried away in the direction she was pretty sure was the bathroom.

It took a while, a couple of twists and turns and some run-ins with almost-acquaintances — as in people who somehow knew her father — but she got there. The din of the massive dining room was muffled behind the door and she took a deep breath walking to the mirror. Someone walked in behind her and directly into the nearest stall.

“Rough night?” she asked, and received no reply. “Yeah, we’ve all been there.” A whispering began and she assumed the girl had taken some sort of hallucinogen; apparently those were getting popular at parties now.

She leaned in closer to the mirror to check her hair, to make sure each of the gold and orange artificial lilies were in perfect position in her coarse black hair. Usually her father encouraged her to “tame” it, but tonight — as with every other occasion in his absence — she had let loose her hair and it now framed her face like a dark halo. Her shimmering gold lipstick seemed to be wearing off, but that wasn’t something she could fix.

Every detail became a point of focus as she tried to further procrastinate going out into the sea of people once again. Someone came out of the stall behind her and she offered a smile. “Keep some water—”

Then there was a knife at her throat.

Salted caramel cake was supposed to be a foolproof plan. The client had told her upon hire that it was a crowd favorite, a recipe invented by the chef’s daughter herself and perfected to a tee. She had dropped the poison in herself, insisted on serving the girl’s table. It should have gone without a hitch.

So why did Natalia Mirialo walk into the kitchen to observe the cooks work like everything was perfectly fine?

She called her underboss, who picked up on the fourth ring. “Who’s ringin’?”

“Who do ya fuckin’ think?” She paused, lowering her voice. “Something’s up. I put the poison in and she’s walkin’ like it’s nothing. Did you do me dirty?”

“I wouldn’t never do nothing like that,” the cronie on the other line stammered. “Who do ya take me for?”

A rat, she thought. “Then tell me why she’s breathin’.”

There was silence on the other line. “I—I don’t know,” he said.

“Gotta do everything for myself around here,” she growled. Before she hung up the phone, she added, “You’re paying for this once I get this contract settled.”

“Wait, boss—”

She hung up and drew the knife from its sheath inside the waistband of her pants. The Saint almost felt bad for this girl’s impending freeze until she remembered the mistakes of her imbecil father. You don’t cheat the Saint, and you sure as hell don’t get away with it.

This time she recognized the flaming orange of the girl’s dress, and she took a step forward. Another step and she placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder, getting close enough to place a blade on her throat from behind.

“Don’t make this hard for me,” she warned.

The girl began to hyperventilate. The Saint watched as her chest rose and fell, faster and faster until—

“Are you gonna—”

“Kill ya? Unfortunately for you, that’s the plan,” she said, flicking a piece of dark hair out of her eyes.

“Why?”

“Ask your father when he makes his way up there with you.”

Her shoulders sag and a dangerous anger burns in her eyes before she hides it. “He made a deal, didn’t he? You’re with the mobs.”

“That’s a bit of an uncivilized term,” the Saint said, taking on a bit of the regality she had learned from these events. “We prefer organized ‘service’ — anyway, that’s not the point.” She pressed the blade a little harder and the girl whimpered.

“Why me?”

“He didn’t pay. Ever heard of ‘life for a life’?”

“That… sounds kind of illegal, actually.”

The Saint smiled a cruel smile, leaning forward and tilting her head. “Nothing’s legal around here, darling.”

“Don’t call me that.” She paused. “And if it’s really that important to you, he couldn’t come because he’s sick. Really sick.”

“What’re you saying?”

There was a pause and that same anger flashed in the girl’s eyes again. This time, she didn’t do as good of a job to mask it. “You could make it look like an accident.”

“You want to help me kill your father?” The Saint blinked. Of all the things she had experienced in this short lifetime, helping someone ice their own blood was not one of them.

She coughed, refusing to meet the Saint’s eyes. “I wouldn’t say help… I—I just don’t wanna die.”

The Saint sheathed her knife. “Where can I find him?”

“At my house. It’s—” the Saint held her hand up; she already knew the Mirialo address. What good boss didn’t?

“Just don’t walk in on the crime, and you won’t get caught up in it. Sound good?”

“How long should I wait?”

The Saint paused. “I’ll have to do some cleaning,” she murmured, “and then… Just attend every after party you can find.” The girl nodded. “Don’t get in my way.” She had no intention of cleaning up, really, but she would have preferred not to give a witness any more opportunity to sell her out.

She sheathed her blade again in an easy movement and walked back out into the party. It was easy to blend into the crowd as a serviceman — of a different kind — as she dialed the same number. It sent her immediately to voicemail and she made a mental note to talk to her subordinates about this. “Our contract has been changed a bit. Don’t bother calling, I’ve got this whole charade under control. We’re going after the man himself.”

Natalia’s heart pounded in her chest; even after the dark-haired girl from the kitchen disappeared, she couldn’t seem to get it back to a normal pace. With a shaky breath, she placed her hands on either side of the sink and leaned in towards the mirror. There was a light sheen of sweat on her deep tan skin, but nothing drastic enough to ruin the makeup on her face.

“Did I almost just—”

Someone walked into the room and she straightened up immediately.

“—ruin my makeup? Oh, stars, I hope not.”

Whoever walked in rushed over immediately, putting their hands on her face. I’ve never regretted saying anything more. She put her face close to Natalia’s, inspecting her makeup.

“No, darling, you’re fine,” she said after a while, releasing Natalia’s face. “I do admire the layer of gold in your eyeshadow, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Natalia said, jerking away before rushing back to the party.

The gala had continued on without her, and it was safe to say they were getting drunker by the moment. Someone latched onto her arm and she let them follow her for a moment before batting them away. The people at her table watched as she sat down, quieting down.

“What?” she asked, a numb feeling growing in her chest. Her father would die on this night.

There were a few shrugs and Natalia covered her lap with someone else’s dark red cloth. A slice of salted caramel chocolate with a single bite taken sat on her plate; knowing now what was inside, she shuddered and repressed her appetite. She couldn’t quite bring herself to partake in the festivities everyone else seemed to be enjoying. The easygoing comfort she had felt before was slowly replaced with a terrible cold feeling, one that started in her chest and spread out to the tips of her fingers.

She just signed her father’s life away.

A fleeting idea of her ability to save him ignited in her mind but she extinguished it just as quickly. If she got in that… that assassin’s way, she’d be putting her own life on the line as well.

Her father, the famous Dante Mirialo, would die tonight.

And she could do nothing to stop it.

Natalia found herself lost in a sea of bright colors, blooming dresses and suits themed after all sorts of colorful bugs and flowers. It was a spectacle, really, a once in a lifetime experience for someone like her. Someone offered her a dance.

She stood and pushed past them, ignoring the strange girl’s warning to stay out longer than usual. At the door, the grand entrance, a man in a plain black uniform — sleek but drab against the background of the crowd — stopped her.

He checked a list and handed her an envelope, but she didn’t dare open it yet. Instead she hailed a taxi and gave them her address; the driver tried to make small talk about her father’s wellbeing and the gala. She shut the speaking window and opened the envelope.

It was an invitation to the next Biannual Silk Parade. The paper was like a blade in her hands, but she didn’t dare let go.

She changed into her pajamas before calling the emergency line. She looked through his cracked door while she spoke the the operator. A pool of blood soaked into the carpet; certainly the girl had meant to be cleaner with Natalia’s death than with her father’s.

At least someone prioritized her over her father.

She looked down to the invitation in her hand. It was addressed to Natalia Mirialo, not to Dante. Not even an invitation to come in his place. No, this was all hers; she walked into her room with a soft smile and stayed there as the paramedics make their futile attempts to revive Dante.

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theolddarkmachine · 7 years ago

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12 Days of ODM: Day 11

Dedicated to: @the-laurel-tree

Prompt: Gajevy Secret Santa

AO3

Of course, the members added their own unwritten rule to the event, turning it into a competition as most things at Fairy Tail often became. Based on the gifts, the recipients would guess their Santa and should they guess correctly, they could ask for one final thing.

If they guessed incorrectly, the Secret Santa and the person that had been chosen won the prize.

Most of the time, Levy kept out of the competitive side of things, opting instead to focus solely on giving great gifts. This year, however, was different.

Because this year, she was certain she knew exactly who was her Secret Santa.

This one was another exercise in how to write a festive fluffy piece. Which, apparently I need to work on because it took me a real long time to lock down this one. Once I really got going, it was no big deal, but dang did I have to drag this one into life kicking and screaming lol I hope that you like it! Because I definitely ended up getting a bit of a laugh from it and going a bit different than originally planned. Merry Christmas!

*************************

Fairy Tail’s Secret Santa Extravaganza was one of Levy’s favorite Christmas traditions. At the end of each November, every member of the guild would receive a name to buy one gift for each week of December leading up to Christmas. Each member would take their gifts to Makarov and Mira, who would then ensure they got delivered to their respective recipients up until the final gift on Christmas Eve, which was delivered by the Secret Santa themselves.

If they guessed incorrectly, the Secret Santa and the person that had been chosen won the prize.

Most of the time, Levy kept out of the competitive side of things, opting instead to focus solely on giving great gifts. This year, however, was different.

Because this year, she was certain she knew exactly who was her Secret Santa.

Sitting on her bed, with the three gifts she had received in front of her, she pinched her chin between her thumb and forefinger, stroking it absentmindedly as she stared down at them. An iron daffodil, a first edition of the dragon lore book she’d been searching for, and an oxblood satin headband. While most people would have made it a point to keep their identities hidden, there was no doubt who had gotten the gifts.

Even if the metal flower hadn’t been enough of a giveaway, only one person knew that her favorite flowers were daffodils. Only one person knew that she’d been searching for that book for months on end. And only one other person had a twin headband to that that lay before her. A small smile curved her mouth upwards as she looked over each gift.

Gajeel.

It was almost too easy, she thought as she reached for the silk band and carefully pulled it over her head to put it in her hair. Why would he make it such an easy victory for her knowing that she would be able to have whatever she wanted if she guessed correctly?

Of course, any final gift I ask for would benefit us both.

The thought only served to further deepen her smile as she pushed herself off her bed and gave herself one final look over in the mirror. Whatever his reasoning was, she was about to come and collect.

***

The guild was its usual bustle of life and excitement, voices filling the festively decorated hall as its occupants busied themselves with exchanging their final gifts. Levy bit back a laugh as she watched Natsu confronting Gray about being his Secret Santa, flames beginning to lick their way up his arms as he listed all the reasons Gray had to be his gift giver.

“Looks like you owe me something, Fire Breath,” she heard the ice make mage yell as she made her way towards the only person sitting alone. Gajeel’s unruly onyx locks created a dark halo around him where he sat, back towards her as she picked her way around their friends and adopted family. Beside him sat a small box wrapped in golden paper with a small green ribbon on top. Levy couldn’t help but let herself wonder what was nestled inside such a small box, her heart fluttering at the possibilities as her imagination ran away from her.

Without any introduction, the bluenette dropped herself onto the bench beside him with a soft huff, placing her elbow on the table and pressing her cheek into her hand as she looked up with her molten honey eyes. She didn’t miss the way the corner of his mouth twitched upwards betraying the otherwise casual indifference he exuded as he kept his eyes on the job poster clutched between his hands. Taking the moment to let her gaze trace the sharp point of his nose and the strong line of his jaw, Levy allowed herself the opportunity to appreciate him. They’d been dating for just about three years, and she still couldn’t quite get over the fact he looked more like a sculpted vision than a mere man. He was always going on about how lucky he was to have her, but Levy knew the truth.

She was the lucky one.

“You would think I hadn’t seen ya for months with the way you’re staring,” his voice cut through her thoughts as he spoke, finally turning his ruby eyes on her. “What’s on your mind, Shrimp?”

Where did she even begin? Her mind was a swirling pool of thoughts. Gajeel’s eyes, his mouth, her love, his present. There was, admittedly, a lot on her mind. Letting out a breathy laugh, Levy shook her head in way of an answer and leant in to press a chaste kiss to his mouth. A small, contented sound rumbled low in his throat as he pushed forward to deepen the kiss just as she pulled away. Her smile brushed a soft tickle over his lips in the barely there space between them.

“So what’s my last gift?” She asked, her voice giving each word a light bounce as she tried to keep her excitement contained. There was a pause before Gajeel pulled back himself, a studded brow shooting up towards his hairline as his mouth turned downward. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was confused.

“Your last gift?”

Actually, she did know better, but she still thought he was confused. Levy nodded toward the small wrapped box.

“My last gift?” Another pause as Gajeel’s eyes remained blank of any understanding. Deep within her chest, she felt the bubble of excitement that had carried her from her room at Fairy Hills to the guild deflate.

“For Secret Santa?”

The shift that took over Gajeel’s expression happened before Levy’s eyes in a slow cascading motion of facial ticks. First, his eyebrow lowered, instead pulling together as his eyes softened with what could only be humor. Second, his devil’s mouth curved upward into a sinful smile, pointed fangs shining in the light. Third, his laugh erupted from him in a blast of mirth that shook his entire frame. It was a boisterous thing that moved the entire bench, and in turn, Levy. Turning fully so that his body faced her as he threw one leg over the wood so he straddled it, Gajeel pushed his next words through his laughter.

“Lev, I’m not your Secret Santa.”

She couldn’t have heard him correctly. Because she was certain he had to be it. The gifts were too perfect. They were exactly what he would get her.

“Don’t joke, Gajeel, you had to be,” Levy said, mimicking his movement so that she also straddled the bench as she face him. Crossing her arms over her chest, she fixed him with her most stern look. As his laughter died away, his eyes sparkling with it, he shook his head.

“No, Shrimp, I’m not, I swear,” he said, voice straining as he tried to contain himself. Lifting his chin in a curt gesture, Gajeel motioned towards a table just to the right of them. Slowly, Levy followed the motion, a moan lodging itself in her throat as her gaze landed on bright orange hair.

“Reedus didn’t know what to get ya, so he asked me to give him a list of things you might like.”

Reedus. Suddenly, the painted paper that had covered each gift and the swirling script on the tags made all the world of sense. Where she had thought Gajeel had just put in effort to disguise his identity, was really the artist adding his own personal flair. Almost as if he could feel her gaze, Reedus looked up, meeting her look before smiling and waving.

“Oh my god,” she said lowly, tearing her eyes away as she dropped her head into her hands. It earned her another round of obnoxious laughter from her boyfriend.

“Stupid Gajeel, it isn’t funny!” Levy’s words were muffled by her palms as she spoke directly into them, not bothering to look up as she knew he could hear her.

“It is a bit,” she heard him say, his breath tickling the backs of her hands before his fingers wrapped gently around her wrists. With a soft tug, he pulled them away from her face so that she could see the smile he was fixing her with. Warmth spread across her cheeks as she held his tender look, mouth fighting against the urge to turn upwards from the softness of it. The only consolation to the mortified feeling that had turned her stomach inside out was that very look.

“This means I get something from you, right?” He asked, giving her wrists another tug so that her body pulled forward on the bench and causing their knees to knock together. Teasing had turned his tone light as he leant back into her space.

“Yes,” she said, doing her best to fill her words with a begrudging tone, and failing miserably as a small laugh bubbled its way up through her throat. It was just so damn hard to sound defeated when Gajeel was looking at her that way.

“So what do you want, Redfox?”

Gajeel’s lips were crashing against hers almost before she could finish the hard sound of his last name, catching it with his teeth as he nipped at her bottom lip. Eliciting a small gasp from her, he pushed forward, taking the opportunity to swipe the back of her teeth with his tongue and steal her breath before pulling back. The suddenness of his absence made her groan.

“I think that’s a pretty good gift,” he said, voice rough and pupils wide as he smiled at her.

“But you could have that anytime,” she shot back, ignoring how breathy she sounded. “And now I’ll have to tell Reedus too.”

Her boyfriend’s response came in a low rumble deep in his chest as his hands ghosted up over her arms, to her shoulders and stopping only once they cradled either side of her face. Thumbs brushed over the apples of her cheeks as he spoke again.

“Well, technically, since I helped him with all the gifts, I think I’ll just claim both prizes.”

The statement was enough to fill her blood with fire as she hit him with the full force of her smile.

“And what is it you want as your second gift, then?” Their noses brushed as he closed the distance between them once more, slowly this time as he teased her. She felt his breath dance over the bow of her lips as he paused, lingering just above her mouth for an excruciating second before he answered.

“You.”

*************************

#gajevy #Gajeel Redfox #Levy McGarden #fairy tail #fairy tail fanfiction #12 days of odm #JUST FLUFF IS SO HARD TO WRITE #WHAT DO YOU MEAN PEOPLE CAN WRITE FLUFF WITHOUT THERE BEING SADNESS OR ANYTHING?!#IM SO OUT OF MY ELEMENT WITH FLUFF AND FESTIVENESS

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seenashwrite · 7 years ago

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Well, I’m A Spitter

emilywritesaboutdean reblogged your post “The Lore You Know (Part Four)” and added:

I’m so glad I finally had time to read! Nash, I feel like I’ve been through the ringer. Pulled in, immersed in a fantastic story, then spat out and left wanting more of this intriguing story.

Man, that title was too good to pass up. ;) Thank you so much @emilywritesaboutdean I’m glad you’re enjoying it! I tell ya, I’m a little embarrassed though - the timing was like, within hours. I found I’d left a bit of dialogue out of the agent & Sam’s conversation that was about a 5/10 on the scale of clarity importance because I HAVE TOO MANY DRAFTS and got confuzzled. In any event, for your convenience, because you rock my socks, it was this........

“We don’t all get to fight the fight beside our brother. If anyone does get too close? Pack it in, somebody’s getting transferred. You two make it work - for most, it’s a handicap in the field.”

“That why you work alone?”

“Depends. I’ll do the odd recruit training, if it’s a good fit. But no, generally I don’t play well with others. And I get better results because of it. That’s all the boss wants - missions accomplished.”

And that was when Sam got silent for several long moments, then ponied up that he’d been more in tune with the heated conversation Dean and I had than I’d realized.

“Speaking of recruits - earlier, it sounded like you said something about…. you implied that when Dean’s soul….”

“When he was a demon.”

Sam nodded, the words apparently still somehow a choking hazard.

“That your company, your division - whatever - that he would’ve been…. what, an agent? Like you?”

“This bothers you? We have to deal with all kinds, we’re not above alliances when they’re beneficial to the bigger picture - you two have partnered up with plenty of questionable characters. I can start name-dropping, and you know as well as I do, that list doesn’t start and end with hell’s most eligible monarch.”

Now he shook his head, took another beat or two before answering.

“I get it. May not always agree with it, but I get that sometimes it’s a necessary evil. That wasn’t what bothered me. I know it’s… it’s crazy, I just…. For a second there, when I was watching the two of you talking, it was like he’d… that it was…”

“Guest starring Dean 2.0, new and improved demony filling?”

Another nod, and another sigh from me, because damn those eyes that were begging me to tell him he was wrong.

“Yeah, I, uh… kinda picked at that scab. Your brother works my nerves, but I shouldn’t have gone down that road.”

“What did you say?”

“The truth. That I think his hunting is sometimes… impeded… by his emotions. The whole handicaps-in-the-field thing. I tell ya, Sam - that version of Dean? He and I would’ve gotten along just peachy. Maybe even better than you and I.”

Sam studied my face for a second, then asked, “Why?”

“'Cause what you see is what you get - no nonsense.”

Sam broke eye contact, then he sat up fully, got off of the bed, started to look for the clothing he’d shed before diving in. I didn’t fight it, stayed quiet, just watching, wondering if I should’ve laid off the blatant honesty and stuck with the subterfuge. He finally spoke at the post-socks, pre-shoes part of his dressing.

“Except it wasn’t - he would lie, he would twist—-”

“He did?” I interrupted, and with a get real look plastered on my face. “In my experience, demons are amongst the most honest folk on this here mortal coil - they own what they are, what they do, and sure as shit aren’t making sure their halos are on straight before they fuck with your brain.”

I was back to watching, Sam’s often-fucked-with-brain quickly combing through the interactions he’d had with his soul-tweaked brother, he had no poker face, not when it came to this topic. I also surmised there was more truth than not in what he must’ve been told, though the rest of us could only imagine. All I knew was, Dean could cut a nice wound with his words, and with more proficiency, more pinpoint accuracy than he’d ever had with that stupid bone blade, so for whatever good it was worth, the persons on the receiving end of his demon tongue had my sympathy.

Again Sam shook his head as he responded, but this time the words came out with less confidence.

“When Dean…. what Dean was, I’m not stupid, of course you know about it. And your company, agency, whatever – to want someone like what he was, it’s insane.”

“From ‘necessary evil’ to the real thing, that what you’re saying? Dean being a demon meant he was evil?”

Sam gave me a look, and I handed it right back - that is, til he picked up his shoes and jacket, started towards the door in socked feet. I found it unacceptable - the leaving, not the socks - and so I spoke.

“No, okay?”

A stop, a half-turn.

“No, you’re not stupid - Dean’s not, either. I don’t think it, never read or heard anything out of anyone who’d remotely even suggest it. And not about hunters, in general.”

He seemed surprised, turned to face me; I looked him right in the eye.

“There’s more out there than just us and hunters, and leftover Moles, and freakshow families like the Stynes - there’s all kinds of power-hungry third party pockets. You gotta know that, in your gut if nowhere else. And there’s players on the field who don’t take the this-is-how-we’ve-always-rolled, us-against-them plays into consideration, Sam, I will give you that. My group is one of them, and you certainly have no reason to take my word for it—-”

“I wouldn’t say that I don’t—”

“—but i’m telling you, my boss? The boss-boss, the big cheese, where the buck stops? He’s old-fashioned and traditional in a zillion ways. He also loves knowledge, dude actually gets pumped if something challenges him, proves him wrong. So fun gadgets and experimental methodology kinda come along with that, but most aren’t - aren’t open to newness, to looking at things differently. They range anywhere from old-school strong-arm methodology, making deals like mobsters, to being downright, caveman feral.“

"So your boss is more enlightened than everyone else, I get it. What’s your point?”

His voice was still slightly pinched, his jacket still in his hand, yet he’d been inching back over to the bed as I spoke.

“My point is, not everything the lore spouts off is the end-all-be-all authority. Not everything is some mystical zero-sum game. Dean batting for the other team didn’t inherently mean—-”

“That there wasn’t some good left in him?” Sam said, bitterness in check.

“Oh he was real extra, nobody’s arguing. Lookit, bottom line: just because a human’s not-so-human anymore, doesn’t mean it’s the end of their usefulness when it comes to keeping the world spinning, keeping whatever the Amara du jour may be at bay. And since I’ve been working with the poster children for that fact during this latest adventure, kinda chaps my ass I’m having to remind you of it. You two managed not to get lost.”

“What if we’re the exception?”

#Nash Replies #Nash Appreciates #emilywritesaboutdean #Feedback Is Fuel #Re-blogs Rock #Followers Are Fuel #Queueby Dooby Doo #Dad's on a blog post and #he hasn't been queued in a few days

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you-andthebottlemen · 7 years ago

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40 - A Birthday Collab

It’s the 1st of August here and so that means...happy 25th to Van McCann! (I can’t believe how old he’s getting wtf).

I was going to write a random birthday themed fic but then @storiesaboutvan and I decided to spice things up and collab! Like real, proper, collaboration. Not two separate parts like we did before. So surprise! And happy birthday Vannnn!

I hope you like this fic and have fun trying to work out who wrote what (hint: you’ll probably never guess, that’s how much we collab’d).

Love ya’s xxxxxxx

********

Part 1: Cupcake

The day was coming alive just for Van. The sun leaked through the cracks in the blinds and fell in shadowy lines across your body and his face. It was going to be a warm day. There would be just enough sunshine to let him wear his glasses without looking like an idiot, but enough breeze that one of his many black jackets would keep him cozy.

You woke up early. He was still asleep, his lanky arms wrapped around your middle, the gentle rise and fall of his breath on your skin. At some point in the night he’d wriggled down under the covers and tangled himself in bed sheets and bodies. Where he could only see linen and skin, you could see the whole bedroom, flooded in the early morning light.

Van’s eyes were closed tight, his eyelashes almost brushing the skin of his cheeks. His face was soft and expressionless, carefree. You looked at each and every freckle that was dotted across his skin and at all the pieces of hair that lay out of place on the pillow and around his head like a halo. The day was coming alive just for Van, but he was coming alive for you.

“Little One,” his voice whispered.

“Goooooood morning, birthday boy!” you whispered back, chest swimming with sticky honey love. An audible groan, then arms tighter around you. “No! Van! Birthdays are good.”

He slid out from under the covers and sat up. Shirtless and messy haired, he looked disorientated by the existence of a world around him. His eyes were squinting through the light and he looked at you like you’d said something offensive. Laughing, you sat up and let him pull you closer, into his lap. He buried his head in the crook of your neck.

“Nope,”

“Yeah, ‘cause you get to see all your friends and everyone buys you drinks,”

“Already do,”

“Ohhh! I forgot you’re just so popular. Rockstar and all that, huh?” you teased.

Van’s head shot up and he gave you a look. “That ain’t what I mean,”

“I know,” you replied with a laugh. You folded hair behind his ear and kissed the tip of his sharp nose. “You get lots of presents from everyone,”

“Don’t need nothing,”

“You might not need anything, but you deserve nice things,” you argued, turning the pendent of his necklace between your fingertips.

“Got nice things. Got you.”

He said it with a grin and it was typical cheesy Van. You shook your head.

“Yeah, you got me, but today you get me any way you want,”

“Is that right?” he asked, grinning again.

It was the softness of the curls in his freshly washed hair. No, no, it was the orangey tinge of his freckles. Or maybe the weirdness of his bones; they stuck out at odd angles. His hips, knuckles, cheeks. It had to be the way he spoke to his parents, or about his friends. Honestly, there was no single item that topped your list of favourite things about Van. There wasn’t one trait or characteristic that made love him. It was all of it. But, that grin. Oh man, it had to be up there.

You nodded and kissed him on the lips and he lazily kissed you back, still half asleep.

“Wait here.”

Van didn’t want a party. He didn’t want presents or a big deal made about him. That happened all year. In the limelight of Catfish, he was only just learning how to be comfortable. Relaxed. Calm. His twenty-fifth birthday then, had to be the opposite. Low-key.

You’d comply with that, but still needed him to feel good. Special. Wanted. Loved.

Escaping the warm embrace of the bed and venturing into the cold of the kitchen, you made Van a cup of tea, extra milky – how you both liked it.

Returning to him, you held the pale yellow cupcake out flat on your palm and went to start singing. The small flickering candle drew Van’s attention away from you for only a second. He rolled around in bed so he was lying on his stomach, hugging a pillow under his chin. With hair fallen over eyes and that boyish grin plastered on his face, you learnt yet again it was possible to love him more and more every time you looked at him.

“Ha-”

“Don’t you be singing that!”

“Van!”

“I sing to you; that’s out thing.”

You shook your head, placing the tea on the bedside table and kneeling next to Van on the bed. You held the cupcake to him and he blew the candle out from where he was lying. As he moved to do so, you watched the muscles in his back ripple with effort.

He settled back down, rested his head on the pillow, and stuck his tongue out. You laughed, knowing what he wanted. Finger dipped through the thick cupcake frosting, you let him lick it off.

“Banana?! You’re class, Little One. Thank you!”

It was going to be your small and simple gestures that got him through the otherwise overwhelming day.

After he’d eaten his cupcake, sharing with you, he burrowed back under the blankets.

“Happy?” you asked.

“Mmm-hmm, but think you said somethin’ ‘bout having you any way I want?”

Sighing, amused and in love, you let Van pull you back into bed with very little difficulty.

…

Part 2: Pizza

The oven was on and heating steadily. The warmth was already taking the chill out of the kitchen air. With the chicken nuggets, pizza bases and curry puffs on the bench defrosting, you decided to stray from the plan of low-key. Regardless of what Van said, he deserved something special just from you. Your own brand of celebration.

The rainbow fairy lights that had sat in their box, dusty and forgotten about for months were strung above the couch. You smiled as you worked, happy to finally have a perfect use for the pretty little things. If Van could see your unbalanced frame perilously close to falling, he’d protest and yell. You hung glittery, silver streamers from the curtain railing above the main window of the room and from the doorway between the kitchen and living room. Glitter made everything seem like a party and it certainly made everything better. The silver also perfectly reflected the lights, sending little reflections of rainbow dancing across the walls.

Back in the kitchen, you drew love hearts all over the blackboard wall in the kitchen and added ‘Happy Birthday Ryan’ in written in big cursive letters in the middle. The ‘I’ in birthday was dotted with a star. You smirked, knowing he’d hate to see his given name but wouldn’t have the heart to get pissy about it; you got away with a lot like that.

Chicken nuggets and curry puffs in the oven, sweet wine chilled in the fridge, and lounge room floor covered in pillows, you were almost ready. A few minutes later you heard the familiar sound of Van’s car tires crunching over the gravel in the driveway. You quickly finished pouring the shredded cheese into the bowl on the counter, the toppings all set up ready for Van to construct his dream pizza, and went and turned the living room lights off, letting the little sparkling rainbows do their job.

“Honey, I’m home!” Van called out dramatically.

As a string of familiar sounds echoed through the house – Van’s keys dropping into the tray on the entrance table (a habit you’d enforced so he’d stop losing them), his brown boots hitting the floor after he’d thrown them off – you felt the flutter of nerves in your stomach. You knew you had no reason to worry; he’d appreciate that you’d bought his lazy favourites for dinner. Neither of you were really good in the kitchen anyway. It was probably just excitement rather than nerves.

You walked out to meet Van in the hallway but saw him already standing in the living room staring at the lights with a dopey little smile on his lips. The rainbows weren’t just bouncing off the surfaces of the room, but off his skin too. A dreamy image of the love of your life. He reached up to touch a silver streamer, then glanced over at you as you moved into the room.

“This is so you, Little One,” he said, sounding impressed but his voice was low and calm.

“I know you wanted like, not a party, but I thought I’d set the mood,” you replied with a shrug. Van smiled, all teeth.

“I love it. And I love you.”

Van crossed the room and wrapped his arms tightly around you and kissed your forehead. It had only been a few hours out of the day but you’d missed him like crazy. Judging by the way he held you for a minute longer than usual, you could tell he felt the same. With your face buried in his chest, you couldn’t help but breathe in his smell. Familiar cigarettes and the same coconut shampoo you used. There was a faint smell of something else though. Burning?

“So, how was your birthday? And, why do you smell like that?” you asked.

When you’d kissed Van goodbye as he left for his day in the morning, he was in that sooky, quiet mood. The one that called for pots of tea and hoodies and butterfly kisses. Instead, he got a banana frosted cupcake and a day of work. You knew his mood would only be irritated by the relentless birthday attention from every single person he came into contact with. You felt sorry for the guys who had to deal with him when all they probably wanted was to show him love.

“S’okay… Uh, Bondy got these firecracker things. Almost burnt my eye out. Got the ashy stuff on me,” he mumbled, taking you by the hand and leading you into the kitchen through the waterfall of streamers.

Van pawed at them as he walked through; it was almost incomprehensible how cute he was. When his eyes landed on the blackboard wall, his grip on your hand tightened and you watched his face light up. His eyes tracked from the hearts and the note, down to the bench laid out with ingredients to make homemade pizzas.

“This is perfect, Y/N. Smells fuckin’ good too,” he said in a praise, then pulled you into him. As he kissed you hard and you tasted love, his hand crept under your shirt and rested on the bare skin of your hip.

“Happy if you are,” you said, moving your lips away from him for only a second. You curled your arms around him and stood, absorbing the moment.

While the puffs and nuggets cooled, Van made the pizzas. The fact he called the process “decorating” made your heart feel fuzzy and warm. You sat up on the kitchen bench and listened as he told you about his day. Van and homemade pizza was a beautiful thing.

“Cheese and capsicum. You’re so boring, Y/N,” he teased.

You scoffed, shaking your head.

“I’m not boring; I’m just simple! I don’t know how you eat all that,” you replied, nodding your head at his pizza.

He’d topped it, as usual, with every ingredient possible, even mushrooms and pineapple. You were grossed out but he was happy and that’s all that mattered.

“Ta-da!” he cheered.

You looked over and saw that he had created a badly, but sweetly thought of, heart shape with the chopped-up capsicum on your pizza. You blew him a kiss and he pretended to catch it as he threw a piece of chorizo in his mouth.

When the pizzas were in the oven, Van followed you into the lounge room carrying bowls of food. You sat down and poured glasses of wine and flicked the television on.

“Where did these fancy things come from?” Van asked, picking up one of the coasters you’d put out earlier.

“Found them with the lights. We’ve got all sorts of stuff in that cupboard,” you replied. Only Van McCann would consider coasters to be fancy. “Okay, so, I got one more thing that’s gonna make this perfect,”

“Already is,”

“Yeah, yeah, but,” you replied, holding a finger up telling him to wait. As you left the room Van put three chicken nuggets in his mouth and settled into his floor nest.

When you returned, he pretended not to be painfully interested in the fact your hands were held behind your back. Sitting on your knees next to him, you smirked as Van looked up at you and fluttered his eyelashes accidentally.

“One more thing?” he asked.

“Yeah. Hold out your hands and close your eyes,” you instructed. Van quickly complied. You placed the small bag of perfectly ground weed in his palm. You’d tied a pretty blue ribbon around the bag too. “Okay. Open.”

Van laughed when he saw it. He nodded with approval and gave you a messy hug.

“Makes sense why you got so much food,” he commented.

Lungs filled and eyes glazed over, you watched each other make slow movements as you chewed through the nuggets and puffs.

“Little One… There’s still pizza!” Van said in an excited whisper. You nodded into your wine glass. So thirsty.

“My love heart pizza,” you replied, eyes back on the television screen.

“Your love heart pizza. My everything pizza,” Van said.

For a minute you were both silent, watching the show. Van’s hand crept over and your fingers and his tangled up. Another minute went by.

“You’re my everything pizza,” you said. Van slowly looked over at you and snorted.

“Then you’re my love heart pizza,” he replied. It was the closest to the ‘if you’re a bird, I’m a bird’ scene from The Notebook you were ever going to get. But, yours was better.

With perfect timing, the oven made a shrill ding. You both padded out to the kitchen in your mismatched socks. Slowly and carefully, Van took the pizzas from the oven and plated them. He cut yours up but left his whole. The capsicum heart had cooked into a triangle shape but you loved it more than anything else in the whole wide world, except for Van.

Back on the lounge room floor, you ate as you watched the show. With each passing scene, you became more confused. Another round of wine and weed didn’t help. It then occurred to you that Van had been constantly changing the channel for the whole time you’d been watching television. More than that, there had been no show on at all. You had both been trying to weave a cohesive narrative out of commercials for almost an hour. When the realisation truly set in, the hilarity was beyond expression and you silently nodded to yourself and failed to tell Van what had happened.

“Movie?” you asked Van as you piled the empty plates and bowls up on the table, making room to repack the pipe. He nodded and rolled across the carpet to the where the DVDs were kept. The rainbow lights were making the room look dreamy. The food in your tummy was making you feel heavy. The dope in your mind was stretching shapes and making colour have sound. Van spoke. He did. You knew that. But what did he say? Then, he was in front of you all of a sudden.

“Little One?” he asked with a laugh. You laughed in reply. “Le’s jus’ bed, yeah?”

You would never regret the decision to spend an excessive amount of money on a mattress topper. It was fluffy and made the bed feel like a cloud. You thought so even when sober. But, high as a kite and drunk on love, it was heaven on Earth. Van sat against the headboard watching you do somersaults up and down the bed. Each time you landed near him, he’d pull you close and kiss a different spot on your face. You’d giggle and roll away.

The room was lit by moonlight, seeping in through the open blinds. On the bedside table there were mugs and the wrapper from the birthday cupcake. You went to ask Van if anyone had got him cake, but looked up to find him gone. Then, he was walking back through the bedroom door with another pizza. You couldn’t remember if you knew he had cooked a third or not. He was eating the mini pizza whole and when he took his place on the bed, you crawled to him and opened your mouth. He grinned and let you eat.

“Everything pizza,” he said. You scrunched up your face. Even out of your mind you could tell the combination of flavours was gross. Van laughed.

When the pizza was gone and he’d brushed the crumbs off the bedding and onto the floor, you curled up under the blankets. Everything was quiet and still. You could feel your heart beating and the pulse in your neck. Reaching out, you put your hand to Van’s neck to feel his too.

“Good,” you whispered.

“Am I alive?”

“Yeah.”

He smiled. “That’s good… Oh my god. I probably didn’t need that last everything pizza,” he said, stretching out and running his hand down his stomach.

“Food baby,” you observed, pointing at his tummy. He nodded and moved you onto your back. Van lifted your shirt and lowered himself to kiss your stomach, just below your belly button. “Also food baby,”

“Ah-huh. Imagine if it was a real baby,” he replied.

“Will be one day,”

“Soon?” he asked.

“Sureeeeeeeeeeeee. Not today though. Birthday today,” you said, moving to lay on your side. Van did the same, and you pressed closed, arms snaked around each other.

“Yeah. It’s been good. Thank you, for it all. Love you to bits, Y/N,”

“I love you too. Happy birthday.”

#Catfish and the Bottlemen #catb #van #vanfic #VanFiction #van mccann #storiesaboutvan

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badly-drawn-piplup · 8 years ago

Text

Happiness Overload Chapter Seven

T'was a night like any other: a night where I'd get ta slaughter anotha' po' sap. Knew it right as I stood in tha lab wit' good ol' Dr. Etna, head o' tha Etna Corp and creator o' tha ETNA project. Neva 'eally cared fo' titles or profession. All tha' really matters, 'nyway 's tha' far's I'm concerned, my life's 'n 'er hands.

″The one you are after will be approaching tonight. You will get your chance,″ she told me. ″You know what to do. You were made for this.″

Broad 'as righ', o' course. Ah didn't break outta jail so I could settle down. Li'l cunt'll rue tha day 'ey went 'n' escaped. Wit' my trusty hacksaw, my pants 'ere a itchin' fo' blood.

Too many hallways. It was too hard to imagine just where any of them led. Too many dangers, too much unknown. This whole place was too much of a maze. It. Was. All. Too. Much.

I clutched my head. If only I had four arms, I would have clutched my chest, as well. Both were pounding and it didn't help that a loud girl couldn't keep her mouth shut in spite of the threat of armed guards at every corner. At least this place itself was silent enough that I could have made out their footsteps.

″I'M SO HAPPY TO BE WALKING WITH BLANC!″ Euphy skipped along the hallway. If she knew she were in any danger, she didn't show it on her face.

I shushed her. ″Can't you see we're in trouble here?″ I asked, my voice hushed.

″THERE'S NO TROUBLE TO BE HAD WHEN YOU'RE HAPPY!″

I sighed. If I were being honest with myself, I had a strong doubt that I would survive this ordeal. At the least, I wanted her to be safe. This cute girl I didn't even know.

Footsteps could be heard. Marching. Getting louder. Of the other doubts I had, there was little that the owners of said footsteps were armed guards, coming our way.

″Run!″ I jolted up and grabbed her hand. She started blabbing, but I drowned her out.

As soon as we came to a crossroads, I stopped. We could have gone forward, left, or right.

″Which way leads to the exit?″ I demanded, my breath getting short. No way was I in good shape and I knew it wouldn't be long before I couldn't run.

″LEFT!″

I nodded. I knew which way I had to go, then.

″Good. You go there. I'll go right.″

She put her hands on my shoulders. Her mouth was opening wider and wider, ever so slow. If she didn't hurry up and run, float, skip, or whatever else she did, we would both be dead. She didn't seem to care.

″WOULD THAT MAKE YOU HAPPY?″

I felt like a blood vessel was about to burst. I didn't have time for this. But I didn't want to yell at someone so pretty, either.

″Yes. Very much so. Will you go, now?″

She jumped to the left without another word.

Now that that was out of the way, I was free to bide as much time as I could, try to figure some way to survive just a little longer.

Pit of darkness and despair. That may as well be the place I entered. I cracked my knuckles and the mini-Ecstasy on my shoulder followed suit. We were ready to beat some ass to hell and back.

From the other end of the pit, a hidden door opened up, smoke spilled forward and a burst of light could be seen as a figure emerged, holding in their arms what must have been a rather large saw blade.

″Oi, cunt! Ya ready ta go?″ He bellowed. I recognized that voice right away; my archenemy.

″I've been waiting for this moment for a while now. Ready to exact my revenge,″ I called back with a grin slapped right on my face. The figure I so hated must have also been grinning. It disgusted me.

Just as the door closed, and darkness embraced me, spotlights shone onto the floor. I noticed the pile of corpses on my feet.

Gross. This must be the garbage chute, I thought.

Indeed, replied Ecstasy. Where the old bodies decompose while the clones take their place.

Maggots and other creatures of the insect world feasted upon thousands upon thousands of bodies, piled on and compacted to make one smooth floor. There was an overpowering smell, but I only smelled the chance to exact my revenge. Rotting flesh had no effect on me at this point.

″'Memba me name, mate?″ Asked the obvious, banging his fists together, seeming to disregard the fact that he was also holding a rather long hacksaw.

″How could I forget the name of the one person I wanted to kill?″ I remarked. ″Anchovy, wasn't it?″

″No!″ He spat. ″AL-BA-CORE! Get I' righ'!″ And with that, he ran toward me with his giant hacksaw, ready for a killing. Just as I was.

Along the corridors were several rooms. I turned each knob, but each were locked. It wouldn't be long now. I was making too much noise. Wasting too much time. I was going to be shot dead and my short life would come to a close.

At least, that's what I thought, until I saw a door ever so ajar. Never did I consider that there could be guards on the other side of the door, instead I pulled it open and slammed it shut without a second thought.

Inside was a large monitor, some buttons, and a few lockers. I didn't have much time to inspect the place. I could still hear footsteps. One of the lockers was open and in my desperation, I squeezed myself in, too full of fight-or-flight to be amazed at how well I fit inside. Too full of dread to panic when I closed the locker on myself, not for a second worrying that I would be stuck in there.

The running footsteps ran by without the door opening or anyone stepping in. Before I could let out a sigh of relief, however, smoke filled the locker, already obscuring my vision of what surrounded me, not to mention made me feel like I was suffocating. I tried to hold my breath; if I were to cough, those soldiers would be sure to hear and storm in guns blazing.

With a pop, the locker opened up and I fell to the floor with a loud thud. My body felt a stinging surge and for some reason, it still felt as dark as it did when I was in that locker. I picked myself up, my clothes feeling bulkier. No footsteps could be heard this time. I checked out my hands; some metallic gloves were on me. I didn't yet put two and two together until I saw a reflection of myself on the monitor: a full suit of armor covered me. Similar in appearance to those guards in the transit station and the ones chasing Euphy and I down the halls. Wherever she was, I hoped that she was okay.

I couldn't open any of the other lockers, but I imagined the same way it got put over me must be how those mercenaries or whatever it is they were, got dressed. It didn't really seem plausible, though. I tried imagining some hunk of muscle like Dwayne Johnson trying to fit inside a locker. The image just didn't form. I shook my head, the helmet covering it not allowing me to turn it completely.

I walked back toward the door feeling a little more calm, my heart rate going back to normal. Now I could sneak around. I could blend in and none of those other guards, soldiers, mercenaries, whatever they are, would dare approach me. I felt like Solid Fucking Snake.

As soon as I opened the door, however, I was met once again with footsteps. I looked to my left and sure enough, they spotted me. Fear once again came a knockin' on the door to my heart. I didn't know what to do. I wasn't prepared for the possibility that they would actually approach me.

″Hey! What are you doing?″ One of them demanded, running up to me holding a rifle in their arms. Maybe that's what I was missing. If I had a rifle on me, I'd blend right in.

″I..uh..″ I tried to speak, noticing that my voice was similar to theirs. Somewhat muffled. I sounded like Darth Vader and I even looked it. Their armor was like a gold plated Darth Vader costume with tubes all over the place and green paint streaked across. On second thought, they looked kind of like one of those space marines in a video game, like Halo or something. Maybe they were from the future and used a time machine to get here.

″BLANC! THERE YOU ARE!″ Another voice called, much more high pitched. From the opposite end of the hall came running the figure of Euphoria as she crashed right into me with a tight hug.

I looked at those two approaching me and tried coming up with an alibi.

″What is she doing here? Don't you know to shoot trespassers on sight?″ The demands kept coming.

″I...uh...she's my daughter,″ I stammered.

The two turned and looked at each other. Euphoria didn't seem the least bit bothered. She nuzzled the torso of the armor I was wearing.

″D-Didn't you guys know? It's 'Take Your Daughter to Work Day' today.″

″Oh shit! That was today?″ One asked.

″I thought it wasn't until next week,″ the other pointed out.

″Shit! If I had known, I'd have brought my daughter.″

I can't believe this is working, I thought, sweat rolling down my face. Sweat from nervousness supplemented by the sweat from such a heavy and stuffy suit.

″Hey, watch your fuckin' language!″ I scolded them. ″She's only 12,″ I added, pointing down to the thing hugging me.

″Shit, sorry! I thought she was at least 17!″

Before I thought I was off the hook, the other one found room to scold me.

″It's fine if you have her around, but don't forget that you're on duty. No slacking around. We're still searching for two escapees who should have been shot on sight. If you see them, you know what to do.″

I shuddered. Pretty sure they meant me, but it's not like I could just tell them ″hey I'm right here, shoot me.″

As soon as they turned the corner and I could no longer hear them, I removed the helmet and took a huge sigh of relief.

″Ugh, it was hard to breathe in that thing,″ I complained while wiping sweat off my forehead. Another thing I forgot to mention was that it felt like I was wearing stilts wearing this armor. I was definitely not as tall as the armor made me feel. I looked down at Euphy, who was still squeezing me.

″Why did you come back for me, anyway?″ I asked.

″I SENSED THAT YOU WEREN'T HAPPY,″ was her response, which was loud enough to blow my hair back. She stood up and put her hands on her hips, grinning wide.

″Alright, well, guess we should get a move on, huh?″

″Chester McLaren, famed serial killer, locked up in a maximum security prison,″ Conrad paced around reciting as he watched Blanc down in some kind of pits facing off against a madman.

″Said to have died of starvation in prison,″ he continued. ″But there are conflicting reports. Some say he escaped, while others said he died in prison.″

He looked up. I was content to let him keep talking on and on. I've already started packing my bags. Or one bag, anyway. As much as I could fit inside a small jet. Whenever he got what he wanted out of watching Blanc, we would both head out.

″In reality, both of those reports are correct: The Flashbulb had a way to replicate his body while letting the original rot away in prison, as it should have.″

″How do you know this?″ I asked.

″Do you question my sources?″ He responded. As if he had any. Sure, after some of the shit I've seen, it wouldn't surprise me if what he said was true.

″No. Why would I question something you just say without provocation and with such confidence as to make it sound like fact?″ I mused.

I couldn't see Conrad's eyes, but I could sense a deathly glare.

″Was that...sarcasm?″

″No. Never.″

Just when I thought I would catch him surprise, he ducked underneath my punch and bit into my side. Chunks of flesh tore off and I could feel blood spilling. But it was an odd feeling in that I felt little to none of it. I was only aware of what was going on.

″Ow, the edge!″ I mocked, then retaliated with shadowed masses swirling across the punk dude's body and making various cuts. I couldn't get a clear picture but I could hear little hisses of pain. I relished in the agony in the air.

″Tha fuck, mate?″ He spat as he shoved his oversized hacksaw into my chest.

The saw tore through my insides as it came out the other side. I wasn't sure if it hit my heart but if it did, would I have even died? I wasn't sure. I wasn't even sure what my thoughts were. But I knew that blood spilled forth from my mouth as I reeled forward. I knew that short after, a moan of pure ecstasy spilled forth, disregarding or relishing in my own blood.

My arms grabbed the hacksaw and pulled it out from my chest. Shadows filled the missing chunks of skin and whatever guts I had. As soon as the hacksaw was out from me, I jumped back and stood a few meters away, still hunched back.

″Y-You think you're so tough?″ I inquired, a grin spreading across my face. I wondered if my teeth were just as jagged as this punk I wanted so badly to kill.

″FUCK YOU, MATE! I DRINK GLASS CLEANER ON THE DAILY!″ He roared, positioning himself in sort of a ″come at me″ stance.

″I'm pretty sure you'd die, but okay,″ I stood up now, a blank expression replacing my previous grin.

He charged at me with his hacksaw, ready to saw my arms off or my legs or even just rip me to shreds. Before I had time to react, a shadowy mass in the shape of an arm grew from the pores of my body and grabbed the hacksaw.

″'Ey! Leggo, ye cunt!″ Albuquerque (I think that's his name) grunted.

Rather than use it against him and kill him on the spot, I flung it across the room. I expected him to run for his weapon but instead he cannonballed into me instead, sprinting at speeds I didn't think imaginable.

″Oi! T'ink I needs a weapon, mate?″

He tried ramming his head into my stomach, but I turned just in time and he went barreling into the wall on the other side of the room. Just as he turned around, shaking off the head injury, I swiped at his back with the shadowed tentacles writhing from my open wounds.

Several little cuts formed and yet he remained undeterred.

I'm losing the thrill. I need to stop playing with my food, came thoughts. Ecstasy didn't have a response to them, but I didn't seem to mind. My very actions contradicted with my very thoughts; I wanted nothing more than to taunt and torment my would be killer before I finally got the revenge I so deserved.

I balled my fist. Before I could even get close to him, I tripped over a corpse and fell on the back of a few mangled corpses. The punk's laughter echoed in the darkness.

″Jus' made me whole job easier, mate!″ He cackled. As I struggled to make my way back up, only to slip on another body, he ran toward me.

Come on, get up! I thought a thought that could have been said by anyone in such a situation. The next sensation I felt however wasn't the struggle to get up followed by the aching one feels when they're sore all over and in pain as they stand up to their feet. Instead, I felt a swift kick in the stomach and blood that I didn't know I still had flew out of my mouth.

″Da's righ'! I don' need no 'acksaw! I gots me feets!″ He gave another heart cackle as he pulled something out of his pocket: a baton. I should have known he would have that. He had that same baton the first time I saw him back at the station.

He began beating my back with the baton, bruising my already bloody and torn body.

I was a fool to ever think I could get my revenge. A fool to think it would have been so easy. A fool to think I wouldn't get beaten up so badly by someone who wore something so...tacky. I mean, come on? What was he going for? Sex Pistols cosplay?

″Ya got me goo' fo' a bit there, mate! Bloody nasty, I tell ya wha'! Good fer ya tha' I'mma massachis' as well as sadis'! Kudos!″ He cheered my efforts while beating me senseless. Not that I had much sense before he started beating me, anyway.

I yawned. Conrad was staring at the multiple screens with such great intent at his friend being beaten up (if that could even constitute as his friend anymore) that I worried he would go blind. I was slouched against the desk, only making passing glances when I thought Conrad might be looking over to make sure I was paying attention as well. Of course I wasn't. This shit didn't concern me.

What did concern me was a distinct sound echoing just outside the door. It was faint at first but now it had me a little on edge.

″Conrad, we should go,″ I muttered, half-asleep.

″Not now. Don't you want to see if Blanc will defeat Chester, who for some reason is calling himself Albacore?″

″Conrad, we don't have time,″ I said a little louder.

″I don't want to miss it, tho--″ He was about to go on, as if it mattered whether we saw it as a recording or in real time. As if watching it at all even mattered. Why did he care when he wasn't even going to step in to help his so-called ″best friend″? He would have gone on, too. I was sure of it. The only thing stopping him was my sudden burst of energy I felt getting out of my seat and grabbing the top of his stupid hoodie and slapping his glasses right off of him.

His eyes were shrunken back into his skull, wrinkles and dark spots surrounding. It looked like a spreading virus. I never noticed before but his whole face looked much more shrunken than some kid in their early 20s had any right to look. More skeleton than human, as if I just entered the middle of a story by H.P. Lovecraft. I had to get hold of myself, look away from the horror that was beneath those glasses the whole time, and face the facts. We were in serious trouble.

″LISTEN TO ME! THERE ARE ARMED SOLDIERS COMING FOR US AT THIS VERY MOMENT! ANYTHING WE'VE DONE UP TO THIS POINT, IT WON'T MATTER IF WE'RE DEAD!″

He raised his hand, even though his arms were shaking. I looked down to see a wet spot on his crotch. I would have gone back into my usual never ending fit of laughter if not for the fear I was facing at that very moment. He was in fear. Both of my strength and likely of the same thing I was afraid of. Still, he spoke.

″You know, you shouting at me probably just alerted them to our location,″ he pointed out, with his shaky index finger pointing up, as if to make some point.

″What you just said was pointless,″ I growled. That was the breaking point.

He leaned down to pick up his glasses. I noticed that the frames had shattered on the metal floor. Oops. He put them back on anyway. I could still make out those poor excuses for eyes. They looked more like white slugs that crawled into caves and those caves just happened to have the title ″eye sockets″.

″My god, man. When's the last time you've slept?″ I muttered in spite of the footsteps drawing closer.

″Justice never sleeps,″ me mutters, then tapped his foot. ″How did they find us anyway?″ He pondered.

″Really?! You're going to pace and chalk it up to some trivial thing?!″

As incredulous as I was, I was much more dumbfounded when a hatch opened up beneath us.

″This rabbit hole goes deeper. Let's hop in,″ he said before putting his hands cross on his shoulders and jumped in. The soldiers must have stopped right outside the door now. Just a second of silence before gunshot fire railed against the door, the sound startling me back. I fell on my butt. I was lucky enough that the door was bulletproof, but it wouldn't take long before they found some way to knock it down.

I looked down the hole. I was about to jump when I noticed a ladder, so I climbed down instead. I reached my hand up to try to close the hatch, but I couldn't find any handle, and gave up on any further attempts. As I climbed down, I noticed the hatch closing on its own.

″Well I'll be,″ I remarked. I climbed down as fast as I could, not able to see what was below me.

Before long, I reached solid ground once more. I could hear the sound of the soldiers ransacking all the equipment we had, shooting it down as if they had an unlimited supply of bullets.

″They're probably going to eat my pop-tarts,″ I whined.

Something tugged at my leg. I yelped and kicked at whatever it could have been.

″Ow! Ow! What the fuck, Velvet?″ It was Conrad.

″Shit, sorry!″ I looked up and could still hear them thrashing about. They didn't hear us, thank goodness.

″What are you doing on the floor, anyway?″ I asked.

″There's a panel, but we can't fit through on our knees.″

″So we actually have to slither rather than crawl?″

″Precisely.″

″Greeeeaaaat,″ I groaned. Contrary to popular belief, I was not some secret agent who loved sneaking around in vents.

Conrad lifted the panel and went through first. I followed close behind him. I tried making idle chatter to ease the tension.

″I can't believe there was a place underneath our base the whole time,″ I brought up before Conrad shot me down.

″You and I both know that's not true.″

I scoffed. ″Fine. How much do you know?″

″Not enough.″

I didn't hear anything else for at least another minute.

He lifted me up by my cuff and I squirmed to no avail. My struggle made him laugh. It was disgusting. I should be the one laughing, not him. I tried headbutting him, but he held his baton up to my jaw.

″Oi, mate! Still gotta figure ou' jus' whatta do wit' ya!″ He stamped his foot. ″Mayb' take yer head 'n' make a candle outta it, aye?″

″I...I...″ I tried forming words to say something. If I were to die here, I would want to die having said something meaningful. Something profound.

″Eh? Got som'thin', ya li'l cunt?″

″If...you were a character, you'd be Shadow the Hedgehog,″ I wheezed, then pushed my legs back as tentacles shot out of my back and flooded him before forcing him to the corpse covered floor.

As he fell, he took me with him, only this time I was the one on top. He leaned his head up and took a bite off my shoulder, tearing a chunk of flesh. To add insult to injury, at the same time he kneed me in the crotch. I screamed and tried to headbutt him, only to find that his head felt like a brick and I never took karate lessons. I felt like I lost more brain cells attempting that than if I were to watch a marathon of some animated sitcom with pointless cutaway gags and humor that 12 year old kids would laugh at, and that's saying something.

He grabbed my right arm with both of his hands and pulled on it with such force that it tore off. I screamed once again, but not for long. Something was flooding my senses.

What should have been blood instead oozed a sort of mass of blackness. The mass took the shape of what my arm used to look like and the newly formed hand at the tip of this replacement arm balled into a fist to perform one task and one task only:

Slam itself into the face of this punk who thought he was oh, so hardcore.

One punch. Two. Both fists, now. Just over, and over, and over. Not even a hint of resistance. His face was getting bloodied. Bruises and pus. Teeth were falling out.

It was clear he was dying, but he didn't try to beg. He didn't let out any indication in his voice of pain. If anything, he looked to be enjoying it.

″Any last words?″ I asked before I would land the final blow.

″Fuck you, I'm knuckles!″ he spat out, even with some missing teeth it was pretty clear to tell what he was saying.

I just laughed. I couldn't believe he would choose that of all things. ″Oh my god, what a nerd!″ I jeered, then punched his lights out.

We continued our trek through wherever we were. I had to wear this suit the whole time just in case another set of those soldiers, guards, military police, whatever they were, showed up, but we were safe for now.

″It would make them happy to kill us but I would be happy not being killed by them. Seems like quite the impasse, wouldn't you say?″

″YOUR HAPPINESS IS THE BEST HAPPINESS!″ Euphy sang.

″Is that so?″

″EUPHY IS BLANC'S GUARDIAN ANGEL!″

I wanted to cry. Either from the heat under the helmet or the sentiment that I would have a guardian angel.

″Say, you spend all this time making others happy, but what about you? What makes you happy?″

Euphoria grinned her usual grin, or at least the one I had grown accustomed to after just a short while of spending with her. ″MAKING OTHERS HAPPY MAKES ME HAPPY!″ Was her response, and one I should have seen coming a mile away.

″You can't make everyone happy, though,″ I shook my head.

″NONSENSE!″ She uttered with such confidence that I almost believed her.

I remembered a time in 2nd grade when I brought a box of fruit snacks to class. I was going to eat them when the teacher caught me opening one of the packets and asked the age old question: ″do you have enough for the rest of the class?″ Me, in my feeble mind, didn't want to disappoint and say no, so I started handing out packets of fruit snacks. Things seemed fine until all the packages were handed out and there was just one kid who didn't have one. I decided to give the packet that I opened for myself to said kid, but in turn, I ended up without any fruit snacks. It should have made me happy knowing I had enough for the rest of the class. The act of selflessness should have made me feel good about myself. But I wasn't happy.

I got the feeling that if I hadn't shared, I would have felt a sense of guilt, even though I would have gotten to have my fruit snacks. Either way, I don't think I would have been happy. At least, not completely.

″Hey,″ I turned to Euphoria. ″When we get out of here, wanna get some fruit snacks?″

It felt like we had been crawling for miles. In reality, it probably wasn't even half a mile. I wasn't even sure how long we had been moving down there. Time was not a concept that I could really consider at the moment other than the notion of ″gotta keep moving. Gotta keep running away.″

″Think we're safe?″ I asked.

″Not a chance,″ Conrad said, and right on cue, something dropped from a distance behind us. What sounded like a rock bounced once and a shockwave was felt. My ears vibrated along with the environment, screaming in place of any sound from my lungs. Screaming things like ″we're going to explode, just like that rock.″

I knew better. That was no rock. It was a grenade, and what no one tells you about grenades is that even from a distance, it can still do plenty of damage. I wanted to cover my ears, but couldn't. My hands were stuck in front of me as all I could do was inch my way further through. But even at that moment, I couldn't do that. I had to break out of this paralysis somehow if I hoped to survive.

Something could be felt running down my ears. I had a suspicion I knew what it was but I didn't want to know if my suspicion was true. Smoke was reaching our air, even this far in. I could no longer tell if Conrad was moving.

With one hand in front of the other, I pushed myself along, my body becoming its own weight against me. I reached out and felt Conrad's leg. He wasn't moving, just as I feared, but I could feel a pulse.

Why am I stuck pushing the weight of both of us? I groaned, albeit internally. No. I wasn't about to try to push him. Instead I dug my nails into his leg until his head jolted up and hit the roof of the vent.

″Thank you,″ he muttered. ″I passed out for a second there.″

I tried making a reply, but ended up coughing instead.

He started crawling forward again, and I was able to continue on as well. It was clear we weren't out of the woods yet, but I couldn't imagine how they would pursue us from here.

After a while of trying to talk, but coughing instead, I finally managed to say a few words, even if my voice was weak.

″Going where?″ I asked. If I could muster more words, I would have said ″got any sort of destination?″ or ″anything in mind?″

″You of all people should know,″ he responded, not sounding so affected, even if his voice was a bit hushed.

He was right; I did know. We were going to get to my aircraft and fly off in it.

Only thing I didn't know was how we were going to get there.

I stood up. There were no strength left in my body. Not of my own, anyway. I was allowed to gaze down and marvel at the fruits of my victory. Well, a bruised fruit, in any case. I grinned. It was such a wonderful feeling.

″Hey Ecstasy! I did it! I finally got my revenge! Now I know that anything's possible! With you by my side, we'll take down this organization and bring their disgusting acts to light!″ I declared.

Oh yes, her voice appeared inside of me, a return that I welcomed with open arms. He was quite the exquisite fellow. Perhaps I should leave you and possess him, bring him back from the brink of death. His bloodlust and mine seem like a perfect match. We could have so much fun in that body.

″What? C'mon! Don't do that!″ I whined. Was she really going to ditch me after we came this far? To think we had bonded so much in such a short time and she was prepared to ditch me for someone I hated.

She laughed a chilling laughter, one I was not so used to hearing.

I was only kidding, dear. It's much more fun to corrupt someone innocent, after all.

My head was blank. ″Huh?″ I asked. ″What do you mean by that?″

Oh, nothing, she cooed. I shrugged, amazed that I could even do that, especially considering the chunk that was missing from one of my shoulders.

″In any case, let's get a move on,″ I declared. Each step I took was a shamble into the lair of the ETNA Corporation and one step closer to being the hero I've always wanted to be.

#epwrites #happiness overload #2edgy #sonic the hedgehog #happiness #conspiracies #writing #stories

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sevralships · 8 years ago

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“Just Because You Can” Part 7 of 7, Chapters 23-26

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7 FIN]

The Pines triplets, Mabel, Dipper, and Jolene, have always been best friends. But lately, there’s been some distance growing between the Mystery Kids, due in part to the forbidden feelings with which they are each struggling. How will they manage to see eye to eye, when torn between wanting each other and craving adventure?

(This is a new AU that I’ve been calling Jolene AU, devised by myself and @handleonthescandal after one of us asked the question “What if Mabel and Dipper were triplets but with another sister?”. Although this AU is similar, it is not connected to Double Dippin’ AU, and Jolene is in no way connected to Tyrone.)

Shoutout to @sirwaddlesesquire for being the trustiest squire and an insightful, helpful, and supportive beta.

Mostly SFW, mostly angst with some action/adventure and a little bit of fluff, tw incest

Fic under the cut, enjoy!

Chapter 23: Up a Tree

They had scrambled about five or six feet up, clumsy in the darkness, when they heard another hiss. This one was different, however. Not so much a chilling threat from the depths of hell, and more of a “Psssst!”

“Jo?” Mabel and Dipper inquired in unison, quiet but eager, hoping against hope.

“I’m sorry,” Jo replied, her voice unmistakable, even when it was hardly making a sound.

“Later,” Dipper insisted, “Bigger problems.”

Jo’s hand landed on Mabel’s as she shimmied down the tree to join them. Clammy, scabbing, tacky with sap, Mabel had never felt anything equal to it. She gripped her sister’s hand, and they listened to Dipper grumbling, trying to concoct a plan. Death waited just below, but Mabel found she was no longer scared. A dim light was creeping into the sky when Dipper swore, “Shit!”

“What’s up, broseph?” Mabel asked, careful to make as little sound as possible. She didn’t know how much time had passed, but every few minutes they would hear the awful hiss or screech or rustle of the monsters close at hand.

“I just don’t know what to do,” he replied, his anxious whisper verging on a whine.

“You got dis, Plans-a-lot,” Mabel encouraged.

“Good one,” Jo said with an approving snort.

“If only we had a cliff,” Dipper bemoaned.

“We do,” Jolene said, giving Dipper’s shoulder a friendly poke. She pointed into the dark clearing, not quite in the direction her siblings had climbed up. They couldn’t see further than a foot or two, even with the night darkness lifting ever-so-slightly, but she explained, “There’s a chasm-y thing. I knocked one in and almost fell in myself. He took my pack with him,” she added, with a shrug of her unencumbered shoulders.

Dipper considered what Jolene had said, trying not to get distracted by the perturbing thought of her falling into a chasm. As the pale pre-dawn light crept into the sky, he realized with relief that his sisters were becoming visible. It was as subtle and gradual as one’s eyes adjusting to the dark after turning out a lamp. He couldn’t see them clearly but after the enveloping velvet black of moonless night, all it took to enchant him was the colorless halos of their mussed hair, the occasional glint at the corner of Mabel’s eye or Jo’s glasses, or the barely-perceptible softness of a cheek. There circumstances were still dire, but somehow, the ability to see was heartening. Not only because it would aid in their survival, but because there was nothing that could ease his mind right now like seeing his best friends.

Jo watched as Dipper silently considered her contribution. She realized suddenly that sunrise must be nearing. When Mabel and Dip had first climbed up, she hadn’t been able to see them at all. But now she could make out Dipper’s profile, his brow drawn low in contemplation. She couldn’t see it, but knew he was chewing the inside of his cheek in lieu of a pen. Her stomach churned, thinking how certain she’d been under an hour earlier that she would never see either of her triplets again. It had been with a combination of fear and relief that she had heard them below. Clutching onto the tree in terror, she had thought for an instant that she was hallucinating. She had never been more grateful to see them, but at the same time was sickened that she was the reason their lives were now in danger.

Especially Mabey, she thought, her eyes moving to her sister. Mabel was facing her more directly than Dipper, so her features were almost entirely obscured in the dim light. Jolene didn’t have to see Mabel’s face to know she was terrified and far out of her depth. Dipper was good under pressure and had spent many a day adventuring with Jo, invariably saving her from her own irresponsibility. As frightened and stumped as he was, he was nevertheless in his element, while Mabel probably wasn’t even dressed for a hike. Jo gave her sister’s hand a reassuring squeeze and heard the nearly inaudible sound of a weak smile. She was about to say something encouraging, when another frustrated groan from Dipper broke the silence.

“Dipman?” she asked.

“If only we had some bait!” he lamented, his tone desperate, even as his volume remained hardly a whisper. Mabel snickered and Jolene was sure that Dipper cast her a withering look, even though none of them could see it in the darkness, “What the heck is funny about that?!” he hissed at her.

“Sorry, bro-bro,” she apologized unconvincingly, “It’s just we do have bait.”

“...no, it’s too risky,” Dipper said gravely, “We’re not using any of us as bait.”

Mabel tittered another nervous laugh before silencing herself, “Such a flippin’ drama queen, bro, oh my god,” Jo heard a soft oof and assumed Mabel had nudged Dipper’s shoulder, “I took some meat from the fridge before we left home, ya dork,”

“Good thinkin’, sis-tective,” Jo said, grinning at the use of the long-retired nickname.

“Why the fuck didn’t you mention that?” Dipper chastised, but his heart wasn’t in it. His quiet voice had already taken on a more hopeful tone and she could almost imagine the organized outline of a plan taking form in his mind. They perched silently in the tree for a moment that felt very long, and then Dipper sighed.

“How’s it goin’ in there, bro?” Jo asked, impatient with Dipper’s methodical silence.

The familiar butterflies in her stomach made themselves known as she realized that she could see Dipper’s face before her, make out his nose, his jaw, his lips. Her vivid mental picture of him easily filled in the strained brown eyes and birthmark beneath his forelock, “It’s a little crazy,” he said hesitantly, “But I have a plan.”

Chapter 24: Mystery Kids

Vibrant reds and pinks were bleeding into the sky as the triplets cautiously made their way down the tree. They huddled by its monstrous trunk and watched, blinking often in an effort to adjust their eyes, as the clearing came properly into view. The vivid sky was in stark contrast to the black-silhouetted trees and the shadowy dimness of the summit itself. Since first light, the Devils had been raising their chilling voices to call each other and slinking off to roost. Mabel wondered for a moment what sort of nest they called home before deciding she’d just as soon remain ignorant.

Beside her, Jolene was making every effort to be silent as she unbuckled Dipper’s pack, still secured to his back, and reached inside, “Ew, so organized,” she teased him quietly.

“Just get the rope, Jo,” Dipper sighed. In response, Jo placed something in Dipper’s hands, “This is not a rope.” Dipper pointed out.

“Shucks, you’re an observant one,” Jo teased, pulling a tightly wound ball of rope from Dip’s pack.

“Why did you gimme this, Jo?” Dipper asked, holding up the first item. As he held it up, Mabel recognized it as a disposable camera.

“The same reason you didn’t take it out of your pack,” Jo said simply, placing the rope in Dipper’s free hand, “If we can get a pictu--”

“No, I didn’t take it out of my pack because I was in a rush to save your ass, again--” Dipper interrupted, his voice raising slightly for the first time.

“Shut up!” Mabel hissed, “We can yell at each other later,”

“Fine,” Dipper said, resignedly, slapping the camera into Mabel’s hands. Mabel and Jo exchanged a brief glance, wordlessly agreeing not to step on Dipper’s toes until they were out of harm’s way.

Jo then moved to Mabel’s pack, “Huh,” she whispered, appreciatively, “Not so organized,” she rummaged around in the mess of Mabel’s pack for a moment before extricating the shrink-wrapped package of beef and handing it off to Dipper. She gave a silent ‘follow me’ gesture and the three crept as silently as they could, until they came to the chasm Jolene had described. Mabel peered down, and the black depths reminded her of the Bottomless Pit by the Mystery Shack. Only she hoped it didn’t work quite the same, or a Lone Pine Mountain Devil and Jolene’s backpack would be spit out any second now.

Dipper considered the jagged lips of the chasm and its mysterious darkness as he tore the taut plastic of the meat packaging with his index finger. Dipper was grateful for the dim light as it concealed his flush, embarrassed by his own outburst at Jo. Mabel was right, of course, yelling at each other now wasn’t just pointless, it was extremely dangerous. He’d thought he’d be overwhelmed with joy at being reunited with Jo, and of course, he was happy that she was intact, but he was surprised by the anger that flared in him. This was so reckless of her, he fumed, even as he chastised himself for being mad, So beyond stupid.

The meat in the package was roughly cut into pieces, intended to be used to make stew. By feel, Dipper selected the largest piece. It was yielding to the touch of his hand, and he hefted the wet weight of it with mild satisfaction. It’ll do. He handed the package back to Jo distractedly as he set about unwinding the rope. It was about seven yards long, but he only freed as much as he thought he’d need, leaving the rest coiled in tight even rows. As he tightened and re-tightened the knot, making sure the large piece of meat was secure, Dip turned back to Jo, “And you’re absolutely sure they’re flightless, right?” he whispered.

Jolene nodded stiffly, “Yeah, I’m sure. They can run, and pretty fast, and they’ll flap their wings,” she gave a small chicken-dance motion to illustrate, “Like chickens do, but I think they’re too heavy to really get airborne.”

“Good,” Dipper said, nodding, “We’re screwed if they can fly,” Jo snorted, in agreement and morbid amusement. Dipper peered overhead, happy to see that a few sturdy branches overhung the chasm not too far up. He was just beginning to heft the piece of meat in his hand, preparing to throw, when Jo put a hand on his bicep to stop him.

“Let me do it,” she said, leaving no room for disagreement, “I have the best arm,”

Annoyance flared in Dipper for an instant, but he had to admit that she was right. Now is no time to flatter your pride, he reminded himself, Whatever our best chance of survival is, that’s what we need to do. With only a twinge of reluctance, Dipper handed the meat and the rope to Jo, trading it for the package of the remaining pieces. He knew he was the fastest, and the best job for him seemed clear, “Okay, Mabes, you stay with Jo, I’m going to lure these things over here.”

Mabel didn’t have a chance to protest or even whisper a ‘good luck’ before Dipper darted off into the easing darkness.

Chapter 25: Mystery Kids, Cont’d

“He’s been gone too long,” Mabel said, nervously.

“He has not,” Jo assured her, although her own confidence was wavering, “It’s only been a couple minutes, Miss Sis.” She could tell from the pinched tone in Mabel’s voice that she was worried, and she couldn’t risk making it any worse. Dipper can handle himself, she reminded herself, although each second made her more anxious for his return.

Mabel was unsure, but said nothing. She was listening intently, trying to hear footsteps, or wings, half-convinced that any second her brother’s scream would break the still of dawn. The mountain was waking up, normal non-nightmarish birds and small critters tittering now and then in the sparse foliage. Mabel was straining her ears to detect any sign of her brother, when one bird-call sounded that didn’t quite fit in. It sounded like it was meant to be the call of a Mourning Dove, if there were some deformity to said Dove’s throat. “Is that--?” Mabel began to ask.

“Doofus’ idea of an inconspicuous signal,” Jolene scoffed and Mabel could just make out Jo’s smirk in the diffused light. Mabel gave a small laugh of affectionate derision as Jo devoted all her focus to throwing the bait. She gave a couple false starts, winding up her arm and taking aim before finally letting the meat soar. It sailed overhead and hooked over a thick pine bough, dangling down over the chasm exactly according to plan.

“Wowzer, Jo-jo,” Mabel said with an impressed grin, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you been practicing,”

“Oh yeah, y’know,” Jo teased, easing up a bit more rope to dangle the bait a little lower, “A daily regimen of toss-the-meat to keep me limber,” Mabel couldn’t help but giggle at that and Jo flashed her a wide smile. Maybe it was due to the fear and separation and confusion of the whole night, perhaps it was the way the rising sun was making it possible to see ever clearer, but Mabel was absolutely dazzled by her sister’s smile. She was gathering the wits to say something to her, how she loved her, how happy she was to see her, but her reverie was interrupted by another strangled Mourning Dove call, this time much nearer.

She turned around to be greeted by a terribly troubling sight. Dipper was running towards them, his brown hair swept back from his birthmarked forehead by his own speed. His face was drawn in concentration, his mouth a thin line, his nostrils flaring. For once, it was hardly Dipper than held Mabel’s eye, though. Close at his heels were several Lone Pine Mountain Devils, all the more fearsome now that she could see them.

They were less like birds than she’d hoped, and more like raptors. With powerful legs ending in menacing talons that tore the earth underfoot, and long sinewy necks that curved in an s-shape, like that of a crane. Their wings, although broad and plumed, Mabel could now tell were too small. They did not have the flimsy look of most flightless wings, like those of an ostrich, but at a glance it was clear that they could never properly keep a Devil aloft. At the joint of each was a fearsome hooked claw, and it was with these that they were desperately swiping in her brother’s direction. Their heads had a lean aquiline shape but came to a point not in the curved beak of a bird of prey, but in the scaley fanged sneer of some prehistoric horror. Their jaws gnashed hungrily, baring rows and rows of jagged reptilian fangs, now and then catching a piece of meat clean out of the air, thrown by Dipper over his shoulder. It reminded Mabel sickeningly of a dog jumping to catch a frisbee, but way more terrifying and completely less cute, she corrected herself. She noticed with alarm that Dipper was headed straight for the chasm and her stomach lurched. Before Mabel could voice her fears, she heard Jo mutter, “You got this Dipman, c’mon, you got thiiissss.”

She trusted in her sister, despite the instinct to intervene, and watched as Dipper ran towards the chasm, only to clumsily jump-slash-roll to the side at the last instant. Two of the Devils had picked up too much momentum and went skidding into the hole, flapping their wings hopelessly and giving bone-chilling screeches as they plummeted down. Mabel tried to ignore the sound of their bodies colliding heavily with a stony death far below. Dipper chucked the, now-empty, polystyrene tray at the remaining Devils, who fought over it with cartoonish ferocity, shreds raining down around them. Mabel dropped to a crouch, her free hand finding Dipper’s, “You okay?”

“Yeah, Mabes,” he panted, a little winded from his stunt, giving her a reassuring smile, “‘M’okay,” He squeezed her hand.

“Nice entrance, bro,” Jo commented, a little distracted by manipulating the rope in her hands, managing to cause the piece of bait to swing pendulously over the chasm. As if on cue, a couple of the Lone Pine Mountain Devils turned their heads, gold hawk eyes blazing, reptilian nostrils aquiver as they caught the bloody scent. Mere seconds apart, they ran at the chasm single-mindedly, shoving each other and hissing competitively. At the last instant, with a grunt, Jo tugged the rope hard, drawing the meat a foot or so out of reach as the Devils took their hungry leap, only to fall hopelessly to join their brethren. The rushing sound of their churning wings, and their shrieking, only lasted briefly before they met their end. By the sound of it, their fall was cushioned slightly by the corpses below.

Jo flashed a smug smile at Mabel and Dipper, a quip rising to her lips. But it never came, replaced instead by a scream of pain and surprise. She released the rope instantly and it went flying out of her hands, as she staggered back a few steps, staring at her palms. It took Dipper just one look around, and a few seconds to cobble together what had happened. Just as Jo had been turning to her triplets, her grip loosening confidently on the rope, one of the three remaining monsters took note of the bait and made a daring leap. With the strength of its legs and one firm beat of its wings, it successfully launched itself to the bait, its jaws snapping shut tight around its prize. Its weight had pulled heavily on the rope, whipping through Jo’s loosened grip and burning her hands. Even as he went to Jo’s side to check the damage of the rope burn, the Devil could be heard thrashing and screaming as it sank into the earth.

Mabel, however, did not know what had happened. Her blistered and aching feet felt glued to the spot as her mind raced to try and tell what had happened to her sister. Dipper was peering at Jo’s hands, but it was still too dim for him to see without leaning close. A ghastly hiss reminded her that danger was still very close at hand and she whirled to see the two remaining Devils staring straight at she and her siblings. Her feet unglued themselves and she was backing away, though it was purely instinct, rather than intent. The larger beast trained its sights on Jo and Dipper, while the smaller stalked closer to Mabel, warbling threateningly. The soft loose skin of its throat and jowls rippled with the sound and Mabel’s blood ran cold. Suddenly, her steps were very much intentional, as she tried in vain to keep some distance between herself and the creature.

With the next step, she found she could go no further. She tried again, feeling her pack tug, trying to free itself from a branch on which it was snagged. Mabel could hear the grunts and scuffles, and predatory cries, of the two people dearest to her caught in a perilous fight but reminded herself impatiently, you can’t help them if you can��t help yourself! She pulled and pulled, feeling like a fly caught in a spider’s web, as the Devil approached, flapping its wings ostentatiously. Mabel could feel panic creeping up on her, groping for something to protect herself, wishing she had a weapon instead of a stupid camera. Worth a shot, she decided, snorting hurriedly at the unintentional pun, as she fumbled with the power button, eagerly hiding her face behind the camera as her finger mashed the shutter again and again. Instead of looking through the viewfinder, she squeezed her eyes shut, cowering, knowing the camera could not shield her from her imminent grisly death.

When said death did not come, she peered out, startled by the strobe of the camera’s bright flash. The Devil before her was startled too, to put it mildly. It was whining and blinking, staggering in the wrong direction, a bit to Mabel’s right. With the momentary lull (and trying not to be distracted by the sounds of her siblings’ strife a few feet away), Mabel reached behind herself and unhooked her pack, walking closer to the Devil and taking another picture of it. The flash seemed to sear its eyes and it gave an offended cry. It seemed to decide she was not worth the meal, turning away from her and running, with uneven gait, into the trees. She was still pressing the button repeatedly, but nothing was happening and she realized she’d reached the end of the roll of film and slipped the camera into a side pocket of her pack, before turning to help Dipper and Jolene.

Dipper and Jolene were much too focused on their impending doom to think about the repeated flashes of the camera, or to give much thought to the kind of pictures Mabel might be getting. Their adversary had managed to back them up against the precipice of the chasm and it was evidently trying to decide who it ought to eat first. Dipper stood to Jo’s left, racking his brain for some solution, some trick, some way out of this fix, but none presented itself.

“I’m sorry, Dipper,” Jo mumbled suddenly beside him. She was giving him a guilty sidelong look, “I’m sorry I put you two in danger,” he shook his head, not sure whether he was urging her not to feel guilty or not to continue speaking, “I broke my promise,”

“Jolene,” he managed a strained whisper. She looked at him expectantly, her green eyes fearful and yet still glittering intently. Even scared as she is, he admired, she’d never go down without a fight. The Lone Pine Mountain Devil hissed, and her eyes darted to it, but Dipper’s eyes remained on her, “I love you,” he heard himself whisper.

Jo’s eyes shot back to Dipper’s instantly, questioning, but she didn’t get the chance to ask a thing.

“HEY BIRDBRAIN!!” Mabel’s voice rang out, shattering the quiet tension of the moment with all the grace of her word choice, “Get your dumb stinky talons away from my peeps or I’m gonna mess, you, up!” The Devil reacted at once, recognizing some challenge in Mabel’s actions. She was standing several feet to Jo’s right, her feet firmly planted shoulder width apart, her hands thrust in the pockets of her (now filthy) black jeans.

“Mabel!” Dipper exclaimed, warning her, although his voice managed also to give away tremendous fear and confusion.

“That’s right, you feathery freakshow!!” Mabel goaded, “Let’s see if you can take the POWER OF MABEL!” Her voice climbed to a shout as the beast charged at her. Her right hand dug in her pocket and a second later, with a triumphant ululation, she engulfed the creature’s face in a cloud of glitter. It screeched in surprise and stumbled back a step, its wings trying awkwardly to wipe at its eyes.

“Ya dodo!” Jo grunted as she closed the short distance between herself and the newly bedazzled Lone Pine Mountain Devil, and with a swift kick sent it sailing down to join its comrades at the bottom of the chasm. There were no more Devils in sight, but with the sun still not fully risen, and the occasional hiss in the brush, the triplets exchanged only a brief wordless look of uncertain victory before fleeing the clearing and starting the long eager scramble down the mountainside.

Chapter 26: This Talk With You

The sun had climbed high by the time they reached the cars, the morning brilliant and clear. They had moved quickly, driven by mortal fear, for the first hour or so before the adrenaline had really begun to wear off. The night was over by that point, and they began reluctantly to accept that the danger truly was over.

As her adrenaline ebbed, Mabel had found it harder and harder to ignore the painful state of her feet. Her ankles ached terribly from absorbing the shock of every uneven step. Her toes and instep strained from gripping the shoe, trying to keep her foot from slipping around too much inside it, desperate to avoid cutting any deeper into the blisters at her heel and little toe. She had stumbled a couple times, crying out in pain, before accepting Jo’s offer for help. Jo had hoisted her onto her back, piggyback style, and uttered no complaint the rest of the way.

When the triplets at long last arrived at the gravel parking area, fewer than ten yards from where they had parked, the gloomy, fearful silence lifted off of them like a heavy blanket. Mabel burst into giggles so abruptly that Jo was startled, “Whoa, Mabey,” she asked, with an uncomprehending smile, “What’s so funny?” Unable to articulate a reply, Mabel simply buried her face in Jo’s auburn hair, just behind her ear and kept right on giggling. We’re alive! She thought, in disbelief, helpless to put her giddy relief into words, It’s over!

“Mabes?” Dipper said, giving her side a poke. This elicited only more insistent giggles. He met Jo’s eyes, seeing his own smirk mirrored on her face, “I’m pretty sure she’s in shock.”

“Amateur,” Jo remarked sarcastically. Jo knew she could tease all she wanted, but when it came down to it the sound of Mabel’s laugh, the soft quaking of her body, the heat of her breath on Jo’s ear and neck was having a deeply therapeutic effect. She was still reeling a little with the reunion, when only a few hours ago she’d been sure she was a goner.

“How are your feet, Mabes?” Dipper asked, ignoring Jo’s snark, “I have a first aid kit. Do you need medical attention?” Mabel’s laugh crescendoed at Dipper’s serious tone, but she nodded against Jo’s neck. Jo nodded in turn, “Okay,” Dipper said, a crease of worry forming between his brows.

They were just about at the cars, when Mabel managed to get her laughing fit under control enough to gasp out, “There’s a...couch...back of...van.” Dipper dug the keys out of his jeans pocket and pulled open the doors, and hopped in, shrugging off his pack with a small relieved grunt and unbuckling it. Jo squeezed them in past a garment rack bulging with costumes, and set Mabel down gently on the loveseat that sat against one wall of the van’s hold. As Jo plopped down beside her with a grateful sigh, Mabel shrugged off her pink camouflage pack and groaned.

“Wow, sitting down feels fucking good,” Jo said in a reverent tone.

Before Mabel could respond, she felt Dipper tentatively lift one of her feet and looked down at him. He was sitting crosslegged by their feet, with the first aid kit beside him, a small bottle of isopropyl alcohol, a just-opened packet of sterile gauze and some bandages laid out in a neat line beside him. He carefully slipped her filthy shoe off and winced. Mabel followed his gaze to her foot in his hand, no more blistered or bloody than it felt, “Yikes,” she said nonetheless.

“This is gonna sting a little,” Dipper said, wetting a piece of gauze with the alcohol, just the way mom had said to every skinned knee of their rambunctious childhoods. And it was an understatement now just as it had been then. Mabel yelped and instinctively recoiled the instant the dampened gauze made contact.

Jo took her hand, lacing their nearly identical fingers, “I got you, Miss Sis,”

Mabel gave her sister a grateful smile, meeting her green eyes, sympathetic behind her glasses, “Thanks, sissy,” When Dipper went back to his careful ministrations, Mabel squeezed her eyes shut and gripped Jolene’s hand tighter, feeling the pressure reassuringly matched.

Dipper did the same for her left foot as he did the right, and glanced up at his sisters as he put the first aid kit back in order. Their clasped hands rested in Mabel’s lap, the knuckles white. Mabel’s face was still pinched, eyes shut against the pain, and her head had fallen to rest against Jo’s shoulder. Jo was resting her cheek against Mabel’s head, her gaze nonetheless glued to Mabel’s face. A weakness came over him suddenly and he felt his eyes prickle, threatening tears. We’re alive, he thought gratefully, and we’re together.

“Ya all right down there, Doc?” Jo asked, and Dipper realized she was looking at him. He nodded stiffly, and stared right back at her. He watched her green eyes search his face, trying to puzzle out what he was feeling. What the hell am I feeling? He asked himself, I’m in shock like Mabel was, for one thing, he noted, but what else? Up at the summit he’d felt a lot of things, fear, love, a lot of anger. But he couldn’t seem to find that anger now. He was sure it was still there, and it’d rear it’s ugly head at some point, but maybe he was just too tired. Right now, I’m just happy to be alive, he realized. Jo was still watching his face and said suddenly, “I love you, too,”

That caught Dipper off guard, and roused Mabel. She had been dozing slightly against Jo’s shoulder, but blinked awake as Dipper managed a slightly bewildered, “Huh?

“Up there,” Jo said, with a jerk of her head meant to indicate the summit, “When you thought you were done for? Before Mabel saved our asses,” Mabel’s mouth quirked up in a small smile, “You said you loved me.”

“I...do love you, Jo-jo,” Dipper repeated, his voice shaking slightly.

“I know, and look,” Jo said, chewing her lip, “I’m sorry I freaked out on you guys. I love you and if you want to kiss or be a couple or whatever, I--, well, you--,” she stopped for a moment, floundering slightly, “Just...do your thing, like. I’m not--, well, I don’t--, you can--,”

“Thanks, Jo, but--” Dipper interjected.

“No, lemme finish,” Jo interrupted, “I love you both more than anything and I want you to be happy,” she said simply, “End of story. Just…” she cast her eyes down, fascinated suddenly by the dirt beneath her fingernails, “Don’t forget about me,”

“We could never, you dumdum,” Mabel assured her, “We love you too much,” her eyes met Dipper’s, and they were both thinking the same thing, the elephant in the car again. Mabel cleared her throat nervously, “The thing is, um… While having your blessing is swanky ‘n’ all, we were kinda… maybe wondering about something else.”

“You were right, Jo,” Dipper said, the flush rising in his face giving away his nerves, “Before you...left, you accused me of almost kissing you--”

“No, no, GAH, pleeeease forget I ever said that!!!” Jo cut him off, hiding her face in her hands.

“Just, hear me out, please,” Dipper went on, “You were right. You were completely right. I was going to kiss you.” Jo let out an indecipherable whine, “And if that freaks you out, like, because I’m, y’know, your brother,” which would be totally fucking reasonable, Dipper’s doubts reminded him, “Then tell me to shut up about it and I’ll shut up about it,” Jo made no sound and Mabel smiled at Dipper and gave him a small nod that seemed to say you’re doing great, “But if it freaked you out because… you maybe wanted me to kiss you--”

“AGH! Yes, okay!” Jo cried out suddenly, tearing her face from her hands. Her cheeks were bright red, her glasses smudged but not detracting in the slightest from the way her eyes blazed, “I wanted to kiss you, okay?!” Her voice was quickly dropping from agitation to hurt, “But you’re with Mabes now and that’s fine, that’s dandy, I’ll--”

“No, Jo, I still want to kiss you,” Dipper cut her off, and she stared at him mutely, “I want to kiss both of you,”

“Let the record show I also totes wanna kiss you,” Mabel interjected, nestling her head closer against Jo’s neck. How does she make that sound so casual? Dipper wondered, While I’m over here sounding like a babbling idiot?

“Wha...Mabes?” Jo looked down at Mabel, who nervously met her eyes, “You...wanna what?”

“You heard me, Miss Sis,” Mabel said, lifting her head from Jo’s shoulder to look her dead in the eye, “However, I love you bunches, so I’ll repeat it anywho. I, Mabel Pines, would like to smooch you, Jolene Pines.” Apparently, that was all the urging Jo needed, because no sooner did the words leave Mabel’s lips than they were replaced by her sister’s. The kiss was so sudden, it took both of them by surprise. Mabel felt Jo’s hesitation, after only a split second, felt her urge to pull back and redoubled her efforts. She kissed back purposefully, trying hard to give Jo some sense of how much she was loved. She marvelled at the feel of Jolene’s lips, so much softer than Dipper’s, yet somehow so much more forceful. Jo’s kiss was fierce in much the same way that Dipper’s was sweet.

Reluctantly, Jo broke the kiss. She didn’t want it to end, no, she never wanted it to end, but the chaos of her thoughts was becoming too loud. What is happening, what is happening, did I really just do that? Her stomach ached with anxiety, sure that she would open her eyes and find only rejection. There was no way, just no way that she could be included, wanted, loved, the way Mabel and Dipper loved each other. Cautiously she opened her eyes, only to see the same love and enthusiasm bright on Mabel’s face that she had felt in her kiss, “I…” she began, hopelessly searching for what to say.

“That was fun,” Mabel said, her tongue poking out mischievously.

“I…” Jo said again,

“I love you, Jo-jo,” Mabel said, tenderly smoothing Jo’s frazzled hair, “And I want you to be a part of...this,” she said with a vague gesture to the three of them, “Whatever it is, and Dip does too.”

Jo turned to look back at Dipper, still seated on the floor with the first aid kit laid out beside him. His face belied the emotions warring within. Seeing Jo and Mabel kiss was undeniably...exciting, and deeply heartening, but somehow also discouraging. Where Jo had welcomed Mabel with an enthusiastic kiss, she had greeted his own admission with only confusion and belligerence. He could not ignore the sinking feeling in his chest that the only piece missing from this puzzle was Jo wanting him back.

“Get up here, nerd,” she said, scooting closer to Mabel and patting the small space to her left. Dipper’s muscles protested as he unfolded himself, standing up just to plop himself beside Jo. It was a cramped fit, and feeling her body pressed against his side was only confusing him more, “Is this true?” she asked, an eyebrow raised questioningly.

“Yeah,” Dipper said, nodding, even more nervous now that he was being asked point blank, “I mean, yes, definitely. I love you and I want you to be part of this. Like Mabel said.”

Jo nodded thoughtfully, “Aaaand you want to kiss me?”

“Yes, Jo! How many times do I have--” The kiss should not have surprised him as much as it did. He had just watched her do the same to Mabel, and yet, her lips caught him absolutely off guard. They were as soft as Mabel’s, the delightful melting softness that he suspected to be habit-forming, yet her kiss was completely different. Where Mabel’s was all sweetness and playfulness, Jo’s was an ardent challenge. Before he knew what he was doing, he was responding to the challenge, his tongue eagerly meeting hers, his hand finding the back of her neck and pulling her closer. He felt something softly nudge his face and peeked one eye open to see Mabel planting soft kisses down Jo’s temple and along her cheek. He relished Jo’s soft sigh in his mouth as Mabel’s lips fluttered softly along Jo’s ear and down to her neck.

Mabel had crawled half into Jo’s lap, eager to kiss more of her, keenly aware of the intensity of the kiss she and Dipper were sharing. She was surprised to find little jealousy in herself, any twinge of it only a result of wanting more of this. As if sensing her hunger, Jo pulled her lips from Dipper’s, moving at once back to Mabel’s. Her hands found Mabel’s waist and pulled her fully into her lap so she was straddling her, before looping her arms around Mabel’s neck and deepening their kiss. Wanting to replicate the sigh that had driven him crazy a moment before, Dipper brought his lips to Jo’s ear, kissing it ever so lightly before moving to kiss the hollow behind her earlobe. There it is, he thought triumphantly, hearing a soft whimper that cut through to his core. One hand tugged the neck of Jo’s tee shirt aside so he could kiss down to her collarbone, while the other found Mabel’s hip. At the unexpected touch, she bucked slightly against Jo’s lap, surprising all three of them. They all pulled back for a moment, meeting each other’s eyes, each glazed with the heat of want and discovery.

It was only an instant before they dived back in, hands and mouths curious and hungry. They were each amazed by how the other tasted and felt and sounded. Dipper and Jo discovered particular delight in how easily they could get a rise out of Mabel, how eagerly she responded to even these fairly modest touches. None of them could say quite how long they had been there, parked with the back doors of the vans still ajar, rolling around on the cramped little loveseat. Dipper was sitting with Jo in his lap, both of them alternately and simultaneously kissing while teasing and caressing Mabel, who was half curled up against Dipper, often peppering each of them with kisses.

With an abruptness that shocked both her siblings, Jo jumped suddenly to her feet. For a moment, they feared they had offended somehow, that she had had some sudden second thoughts. But one look at the impish grin on her face assured them that nothing was wrong. Mabel and Dipper watched as she jumped down from the van and scampered towards Aoshima/The Chariot, “To be continued at home!” She called back in a singsong voice, cackling joyfully as she hopped into the driver’s seat. Dipper and Mabel turned to each other, and exchanged a bewildered look before both busting into a grin. The smiles did not leave their faces as they securely shut the back of the van, climbed into the front and got on the road, letting Jolene lead the way home.

THE END

#pinecest #pinescest #gravity falls fanfiction #jolene au #jbyc #just because you can #sevralfics

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