#around me is either effortlessly beautiful or at least puts little effort in being presentable

[rosesradio]

.

[marvel-ousnesss]

Hand in Hand

Pairing: Harry Styles x reader

Summary: Y/N and Harry the night of the Brits.

word count: 2806

masterlist 

A/N: I wrote most of this on my phone so sorry for any typos or mistakes. Lots of love 💜💜💜

“Y/N, Y/N!”

You approached the source of the storm of voices with a wide grin on your face. You still couldn't hide the thrill that your fans brought you, nor you could stop yourself from just hanging with them for a bit. You ambled through the red carpet exchanging smiles and posing for selfies until you reached the end of the path.

When you stepped inside, you greeted a few other people who had arrived at the event and went to freshen up a bit so you could pose for some photos.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and grinned widely. You felt like the girl singing covers in her room, yet here you were, attending your first-ever music awards as a nominee —with one of the best albums of the year under your arm.

As you made your way back from the restroom, you felt a presence behind you. Before you could turn around, they spoke.

"Well hey, fancy seeing you here.” Harry's voice was raspy, tinted with mischief.

You stopped, turned toward him with an amused half-smile.

"Right back at you,” you joked back. “Do you come here often?"

He exhaled a fruity laugh and smiled at you, finally allowing his gaze to drift down onto your figure and then back to up to meet your own. "You look… wow."

He made you blush with almost no effort but you were quick to cover it up, doing your best to get rid of the tension that seemed to constantly glide around the two of you.

"Well, don't you look 'wow' yourself", you smirked.

It had been going on for a few months now; flirting here and there, hanging out at parties, and even a few dates which you had tried to keep out of the spotlight. Nevertheless, headlines hadn't stopped gushing on about 'the newest, freshest face of the industry' and the 'beloved, eclectic Harry Styles.'

Looping your arm around his you subtly prompted him to continue walking toward the awaiting cameras, where you were headed before bumping into him. He obliged, smoothly guiding you through the crowd of crew members, press, and artists.

After a moment of hesitation, his hand traveled to the small of your back. When you felt his tender fingers against the silk of your gown, you lifted your head to look at him.

"So, what’s the game-plan for tonight?”

“Y’know how ‘t goes,” he explained. “Step one: performance, step two: get hold of all the tiny statues, step three: world domination.”

You laughed, but insisted, “really, how’re you doing; ready?”

Even if he seemed to be perfectly collected, you knew that tonight’s show had his head spinning. This was gonna be his first live performance of the year, and, to be honest, you thought it was admirable that he decided to go through with it after what had happened that weekend.

“‘m just a mess of nerves and excitement right now. Tonight needs to be brilliant.”

He didn’t wanna talk about Caroline’s death and you were ok with it, so you didn’t push on the topic.

“I’m sure it’ll be. The whole album’s just amazing; and, you know, the guy who sings it isn’t that bad either.”

He chuckled lightly, then sighed, “just hope I make it justice.”

You smiled, “you will.”

That’s when you found yourselves between the gray wall upholstered with logos and brand names and the army of photographers equipped with cameras of all sizes.

You both faced them and quickly displayed your best angles.

Offering a smirk as he fixed the collar of his blazer, Harry asked, “what ‘bout you, eyes on the prize, I assume?”

You turned around with grace, so that the back of your outfit was visible, then faced the cameras over your shoulder.

“Well, yeah,” you sighed dramatically. “But, to be frank, I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep them there with you looking so dashingly handsome.”

His eyes widened for a second and he let out a ringing laugh, his cheeks reddening slightly. It was truly a beautiful sight. However, no longer than a moment later, he concealed the gentle blush with a snort and a devious grin, which he directed at the cameras.

“I know ’m irresistible, love,” he smirked. “And I hate to tell you this, but I‘m ‘a be professional tonight, no funny business.” His tone was dripping with feigned seriousness.

"Your loss," you flipped your hair.

_______

You guided Y/F/N to the table where your team had been placed. Being honest, she was thrilled to be there with you, but also quite surprised that you had honored the promise you both made back in middle school. When you had first told her about your YouTube channel —after a fair amount of bugging on her part—, she had shown complete support and joked about being your date to the met gala. But, as the met was still clearly out of your league and you had missed the Grammys because of your mom’s birthday, here you were.

She already knew your manager so you introduced her to the rest of them before taking a seat, ready to enjoy the rest of the evening.

The first few minutes were full of laughter and conversation. When the event officially began, you watched the presentations with a gaping mouth and cheered hastily when every award was presented.

Before you knew, it was already time for Harry’s performance. You bit the inside of your lip when he climbed upstage, effortlessly rocking a lace jumpsuit that gave a deific, but simple air to him.

“Can’t believe you turned that down to bring me,” your friend whispered to you.

“Seriously?, my first ever-awards were something I needed to share with you, dork.”

“Awww, friend.”

“Aww”, you mocked, then hit her shoulder lightly. “Shush, let me listen.”

Everything happening on stage was truly breathtaking. You mouthed the lyrics as your gaze followed his every move. His eyes were full of stars and his voice was so flooded with emotion that it made chills run down your spine.

“I’ll rip his throat out with my teeth if he ever fucks up.”

Those words somewhat pulled you out of your daze-like state. Part of you wanted to ask her what she meant, but it was no use. For her, you were an open book, so you didn’t even try to hide how bad you had fallen.

Only with a glance your way, Y/F/N managed to catch the way in which your eyes twinkled when you looked at him and the way you blushed ever so slightly when she brought him up.

You tried to conceal the impact of her words with a sip of your drink, to which she responded with a smug wink.

The following half an hour or so went by uneventful. You nearly fainted when Lizzo performed, and it didn’t get better when you discovered she was but a few tables away from you, next to where Harry had been placed. A couple of categories where presented and the moment you dreaded the most arrived.

Celeste was flawless on stage, and you couldn’t be happier for her. Yet, as you listened to her song, your brows were glued in a frown and the corners of your mouth seemed to weigh a ton. It was time for the rising star award, and then came international female solo —to which you had been nominated.

You turned your head to the side when you heard the scratching of a chair against the floor, and offered a quivering smile to Harry, who had not so discreetly sneaked to your table.

“Hey,” he mumbled, taking hold of one of your hands under the table.

“Hey.”

Celeste’s speech, which ended before you would’ve wanted, was followed by Sporty’s introduction to your category. You tried to stay positive as the nominees were announced.

Y/F/N managed to dodge Harry and get her hand on your shoulder. She gave him an awkward attempt of a smile, then looked at you. “You got this.”

You nodded at her words but, not so deep down, you knew this wasn’t gonna be your year.

“I’m so excited, they’re all so brilliant,” Sporty began.

Harry’s grip tightened on your hand while she opened the envelope, and you barely heard him mumble, “come on.”

That’s when the winner was announced. Billie’s name echoed through the speakers across the place and your face fell for a few seconds.

You were quick to recover and clapped just as eagerly as you had for the rest of the winners, but the smile plastered on your face quivered a bit as you swallowed a wave of disappointment.

That changed when she got to the stage, that’s when utter pride kicked in. While Billie said a few words in acceptance of the award, Jack Whitehall made his way to the table and squeezed a chair between you and Harry. You let out a snicker as he clumsily tried to sit comfortably, then you moved a bit back.

He was given his cue by the camera guy and began.

“Congratulations, to Billie Eilish! Now, I’m just so excited to be here with this power couple who, for some reason, are not officially a couple yet.”

"Glad to have you."

His eyes drifted between the two of you, then settled on Harry. “Harold, you’ve been coming to the brits for 10 years. Not to make you feel old.” Then he looked at you. “Y/N, on the other hand, this is your very first time here.”

"Yup," you chuckled. "Total newbie."

“Sorry for the stock question, but how’s it feeling so far? Kidding, we don’t wanna talk about that, do we? I bet you’ve already got at least five rehearsed versions of the answer to that question.”

You snorted.

“Let’s get to the point here.“ Jack leaned closer to the table, to which you responded by mimicking his posture. “Ever since the ‘Up All Night’ era, when Harold here was just a lad with his little bow tie and a mop on his hair, he’s been a ladies man.

Harry scoffed and waved his hand dismissively.

"And, as such, he can only be paired to someone like you,“ he pointed his finger at you in mock accusation, “my dear Y/N, who has been leaving a fair share of lads and ladies’ hearts broken —including my own— ever since your very flare-up on that strange platform which somehow houses both Rebecca Black’s ‘Friday’ and your phenomenal album ‘Tears of Blade’. However, putting my broken heart aside, I wanna Know… you didn’t come as each other’s date, why’s that?"

Harry took a sip of his drink, "I tried, but she turned me down."

Jack faked shock. "Should I get my hopes up then?"

"Oh no, none of that."You shook your head. "I just brought a friend tonight."

His mouth opened in realization, then he smirked, wiggling his brows. "Not to intrude, but… a special friend of yours or a friend friend."

You threw your head back, laughing, then said, "Jack, this is Y/F/N. Y/F/N, Jack."

"Hi." She stretched out her hand, which the host gladly took.

“I like the way your hand fits in mine,” he gushed.

——————————

You struggled to stay awake in the car to your place, your eyelids didn’t seem to be obeying you anymore and your head was feeling too heavy for you to lift. Harry chuckled when he looked at you, bringing you closer to him so you could use him as a pillow. For the rest of the ride, he quietly hummed to the music playing and did what he could to ignore the feeling of numbness that was beginning to invade his arm.

You woke up when the car stopped and raised your head, scanning your surroundings. When your gaze met Harry’s, you smiled. He grabbed your purse and helped you out of the car, then you both took the lift to your apartment.

"Make yourself at home," you said, taking off your coat and shoes.

"Thanks, love." He hanged his blazer on the rack by the door, together with his vest and the purple pashmina that adorned his neck.

After changing into some sweatpants and a t-shirt, you made your way to the living room and found Harry, neck deep into your fridge. That's when you recalled you hadn't done any grocery shopping.

"Tell me if you find something, my fridge's just sad to even look at," you jested, standing behind him.

"S'not that bad. I mean, carrots, beer, tortillas, we could do wonders out of this," he scoffed, still looking for something worth looting.

After no avail, he closed the door.

"Or… we could order pizza."

He chortled, "Y/N/N, we ate like an hour ago."

"Is that a yes or a no?"

He sighed, letting himself fall to the couch in fake exasperation. "Woman, you’re a bad influence." Now, that was a yes.

You giggled when he ended up sitting on the floor, then taunted, "worried your Gucci suits won’t fit you anymore?"

"Ha-ha very funny." Harry settled on the floor, grabbing one of the decorative pillows.

"C’ mere," he patted the spot beside him.

"The couch’s right there."

"So?"

"So?" you mocked, "you come here." You clumsily sat on the couch, but he grabbed your ankle and pulled you to the floor. You let out a squeal but, taking advantage of the boost he had given you, managed to place yourself on top of him, caging his body between yours and the couch.

You were about to gloat, but he placed a hand on your waist and used the weight of his body to push you back, turning the cards.

"You got me where you want me, what are you gonna do?" When you spoke, your voice came out quieter than intended.

Harry's hand found the hem of your shirt and he began tugging it faintly, brushing your skin ever so slightly. He looked at your lips for a moment, then your eyes.

"'Ve got a few ideas-" his words were drowned by the doorbell ringing.

"Fuck," he groaned, head burying in the crook of your neck. Your fingers curled around his silky locks, then you mumbled, "I have to get up, you know."

He grumbled something else, but you pushed him off you.

You received the pizza and locked the door, proceeding to put the cardboard box on the marble counter. As you cut the tape with a small knife, Harry joined you in the kitchen. Stepping behind you, he placed his hands on your sides and a kiss on the line where your neck met your shoulder.

"Patience is a virtue, Harold," you teased.

"Don't care."He rested his head on your shoulder but his hands carried on with the feathery strokes.

Just then, you opened the box and swiftly turned around, giving him a quick peck before stepping out of his grasp.

"Help yourself," you instructed while grabbing two beers from the fridge.

After giving him one, you took hold of a slice and walked toward your previous spot on the living room floor. "Don’t know bout you, but I’m starving."

Harry followed with the box in hand, after settling once again, he placed the box between the two of you and grabbed the remote control.

You shook your head and scoffed, "all that wailing and you're just as hungry as I am."

"Not my fault that the bloody doorbell killed the mood." He took another bite.

Three beers per head later, as the credits of Dirty Dancing rolled up the screen, the pizza had been discarded long ago. You hummed to the credits song as your head rested on his lap, enjoying the feeling of his hands playing with your hair.

"Thanks for tonight," he mused.

"What d'you mean?" You adjusted yourself so that you were looking up at him.

"Just, you know, "he hesitated, finding the words. "You made sure it was a great night."

Your mouth opened in realization before you smiled, lifting one of your hands to his cheek. “That's what 'm here for." Then you sat up, and joked, "besides, 's only fair to admit that, for a business night, it was fun."

"You break my heart, love" he sighed, "all your business partners get after parties like tonight’s?"

"Nah," you avowed, "just the cute ones."

"I'm relieved, then." He pulled you to him by the waist.

You beamed, throwing your head back, "you're unbelievable."

When you straightened up, after your laugh died down, his gaze found your lips once more and he leaned in. "Can I kiss you?"

Your hands moved up to the back of his neck and, without a word, you pressed your lips to his.

Requests open!

[bitchin-beskar]

Folklore

Rating: T (warning, high levels of fluff ahead)

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: YAY! We’re finally here! We got through some of the angst, and now I am happy to present a chapter that is 100% free from angst! (Well... almost. Kind of? For the most part.) Be warned friends, extreme fluff and feels ahead, because I NEEDED something happy to write about, and this presented the perfect opportunity. I hope you guys like it!!

Tags: @mxndoscyarika, @perropascal, @theocatkov, @cosmicbug379

Let me know either in the comments or an ask if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters, or any of my other works!

mirrorball

You stood nervously in front of the mirror, hands smoothing down the front of your dress. You’d never worn anything like this in your entire life, and you highly doubted you ever would again. The dress was actually made of two pieces, both a deep midnight blue. The top piece had no sleeves, and the collar came up to your neck. The skirt piece was almost directly beneath the top, leaving a sliver of skin showing. The skirt flowed out from there, all the way down to your feet. Towards the bottom of the skirt, the fabric was covered in little rhinestones, and you thought it looked like stars in the night sky. When you twisted back and forth, your high heels peeked out from beneath your swirling skirts, the same deep blue as your dress. They were higher heels than you’d ever worn before, and you felt a little unsteady, but you were relatively confident you weren’t going to fall over.

“Can I come back in, now?” 

You start at the sound of Frankie’s voice, just outside his bedroom door. Your cheeks heat up, and you begin to panic, not sure if you’re ready for him to see you like this. Your hands flutter nervously around your skirt, trying to smooth imaginary wrinkles, and straighten your top for the thousandth time. When you finally can’t put it off any longer, you call for him to come in.

The door opens, and Frankie walks in, and you take a moment to appreciate his own outfit. It had been a struggle, but you’d managed to get Frankie to agree to a tie and dress shirt, along with dress pants and shoes, although he’d drawn the line at an actual suit. His tie matched your dress, and he already had his sleeves unbuttoned and rolled up to his elbows, although you couldn’t really complain, because he looked extremely attractive like that. His hair was somewhat tamed, but still somewhat wild, and with his stubble covering his jaw, you kind of wanted to swoon. 

You can tell the second Frankie’s brain processes what you’re wearing, because he stops mid-sentence. “Hey, are you ready to–”

His eyes are glued to you, and you watch as a blush spreads across his cheeks. He gulps, and it echoes loudly in his quiet bedroom. His eyes rove over your form, and you smile shyly, spreading your hands in a ‘what do you think?’ gesture. 

He slowly moves into the room, holding his hand out to you. You step forward, placing your hand in his, and you’re pleasantly surprised when he leads you in a twirl, allowing you to spin in place, your skirt flying out around your legs. When you face Frankie again, he has this look in his eyes, one you’ve never seen before. His other hand comes up to cup your cheek, and he pulls you forward just as he leans in, and places his lips on yours. You’re surprised once more, and also grateful you’d decided to forego lipstick tonight. He kisses you for a long time, pulling away briefly for air a few times before pressing his lips sweetly back to yours once more. It’s only when you hear Mrs. Morales calling from downstairs that the two of you separate. 

The look in Frankie’s eyes hasn’t disappeared, if anything, it’s even more pronounced. “Como una princesa,” he whispers against your lips, and you can’t help but kiss him again. Mrs. Morales has to call a second time before the two of you actually make your way downstairs. 

As you descend the staircase, Veronica Morales has tears in her eyes as she looks at you. She’s holding her camera, snapping picture after picture, and you can’t help but wish your own mother was as excited as Mrs. Morales was about tonight. Your mother had thrown a fit when you’d told her you wouldn’t be going to prom with whoever it was that she’d picked out that she thought was ‘socially acceptable.’ You knew what she meant by that. She hated that you were dating Frankie, she considered him to be beneath you, both because of class and race. You refused to let Frankie come over, because the last time he had, your mother had called him a ‘dirty immigrant’ and you’d nearly slapped her. 

You refocused as Mrs. Morales ordered Frankie out of the way so she could get some pictures of just you. She gestured for you to spin, and you did, once, twice, three times–

Your heel slipped, and you would have fallen if not for Frankie’s arms suddenly around your waist, holding you up. You were in a partial dip, looking up at Frankie as he held you, effortlessly. The two of you were startled by the flash, and Mrs. Morales just giggled as Frankie pulled you upright. She took a few more photos, some of just Frankie, but mostly of the two of you together, before shooing you both out the door. 

“¡Estar en casa a medianoche, Francisco!”

You giggled as Frankie flushed, following as he tugged you down the driveway to his truck. He opened the door for you and helped you inside, situating your dress so it wouldn’t wrinkle. He ran around to the driver’s side, climbing in beside you, and pulling out, grumbling as you waved goodbye to Mrs. Morales.

The drive to the high school wasn’t long, but Frankie still held his hand out, palm up, like he always did. And you put your hand in his, lacing your fingers together, like you always did. You pulled your joined hands into your lap, stroking at his fingers with your other hand.

“Did you mean what you said, Frankie?”

He turns to look at you, his eyes dark in the dim light available in the cab. “Every word, mi amor.” You grin, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand as he looks back at the road, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel.

As the two of you pull into the school parking lot, you see all of the other couples arriving. You take pride in the fact that Frankie seems to be one of the only ones who opens the door for his date, for you. He helps you out of the truck, and you can practically feel stares from other girls from school, but you’re so giddy you can’t bring yourself to care.

He leads you into the gymnasium with a hand on your back, and you can feel the bare skin of his hand on the small sliver of bare skin around your waist. It shouldn’t excite you, but it does, and you can barely stop yourself from dragging him down the hall towards the broom closet the both of you know intimately. 

You’re surprised at the effort that went into transforming the gymnasium, fairy lights strung everywhere, curtains covering the walls hide the bleachers and the basketball hoops, and there’s an honest to god disco ball over the dance floor. There’s a buffet against one of the walls, but you pull Frankie straight onto the dance floor. There’s a pop song playing that you don’t recognize, but you begin to dance anyways, and Frankie goes along with you, smiling softly all the while. 

It takes longer than you would have liked, but finally a slow song comes on. You turn to Frankie, eyes sparkling, but he’s already holding his hand out for you to take it, pulling you into his arms the moment you do. The two of you sway together, surrounded by other couples, although most of them admittedly look a bit awkward. There’s nothing awkward between you and Frankie though, and as you dance, you lay your forehead against his shoulder, relishing in the way his grip on you tightens. His hand is warm against your back, and you can feel his heartbeat under your palm, and you’ve never been this happy in your life. When the song ends–far too soon for either one of you–Frankie takes the lead, pulling you out of the gym and towards the back of the school. 

The two of you sneak out a back door, and that’s when Frankie pauses, turning to you and sweeping you up into his arms, bridal style. You squeal, wrapping your arms tightly around his shoulders as he begins to walk, and with your face buried in his shoulder, you don’t know where you’re going until he sets you down. You look up, and realize he’s brought you to the park that’s just behind the high school. There’s swings and a slide, but also a small covered area, dotted with plants and little lamp posts. It’s where he first asked you out, and you want to cry at the gesture.

Frankie turns to you, holding his hand out once more. “¿Un último baile, princesa?” You smile at his words, once more placing your hand in his. Frankie leads you in a dance, one his mother spent hours practicing with the two of you, insisting that the both of you know at least one formal dance for prom. As you twirl around the covered garden, you feel your heart swell, happier than you could ever imagine being. 

As the dance ends, Frankie twirls you once, twice, three times, before he pulls you to him, feet stilling on the ground. Your chests are pressed together, both of you breathing heavily from the exhilaration of the dance, the excitement of sneaking out, the joy of being here together. You’re so happy, you don’t even think when the words fall from your lips.

“I love you.”

You barely have time to register that you’ve spoken those words out loud–for the first time ever–before Frankie’s eyes darken, and his mouth crashes onto yours. He kisses you, frantically, desperately, trying to convey every emotion he feels that he doesn’t have the words to describe. He only pulls away when you’re panting, breathless, head spinning as you try to replace the oxygen he stole from your lungs. His forehead leans against yours, and you can see the love he has for you shining clearly in his beautiful eyes.

Even though you already know, he still says it. “I love you, mi amor, so much.” 

As you grin, delighted, and pull him back in for another kiss, you think there’s no possible way you could ever love anyone else the way you love Francisco Morales.

***

“You’ll find me on my tallest tiptoes

Spinning in my highest heels, love

Shining just for you.”

[willow-salix]

Here's my offering for the second FabFiveFeb with the awesome @gumnut-logic focusing on the gorgeous Gordon. I used two of the prompts. Enjoy!

Selene's eyes cut to the side away from the book that she promised John she'd read but was continuing to boggle her brain.

He was there again, hanging around near the bedroom door, haunting the hallway, stalking the sleeping quarters of the house. And it was getting annoying, she'd have to do something about it. It was hard enough to concentrate on "Unlocking the Universe" without the constant distractions of the sighing, whining, moaning apparition outside. 

The figure moved past the door again, looking in at her. She tossed the book aside and sat up. 

"Gordon! What the hell is wrong with you?" 

The sun lightened, tousled blonde head popped around the door frame. 

"Oh, Selly, are you done reading?" 

"Well I am now."

He bounded in like an enthusiastic puppy, dropping down on the end of the bed, forcing her to move her feet quickly out of the way. 

"Did you want something?" 

"No, it's all good." He glanced around, his eyes taking in the new editions to his brother's room. Since Selene had been in his life John had definitely lightened up, growing more comfortable in his own skin and spending more time with them all but, even though Selene had gone shopping with Grandma and Virgil to pick out a few things to make herself feel more at home, John's uniqueness still shined through. 

They had all wondered if Selene would take advantage of John's suggestion that she redecorate his room, but they should have known better. Selene never acted as you would expect her too, very much like all the women in their lives. They were used to strong women that never followed the crowd, Kayo, Grandma, Penelope, it stood to reason that anyone the brothers met would be just as special. 

John's posters and star charts were still on the walls, but a few new types of chart had joined them, ones that showed the phases of the moon and its meanings, the sun and the solstices and the constellations related to star signs. 

Her books were intermingled with his own, her clothes were in his wardrobe mixed in with his,  items of makeup and toiletries were scattered around his bathroom and little interesting trinkets and her divination tools had joined his collection of space rocks, awards and celestial models on his shelves. The room had been softened with the addition of softly glowing lamps, fluffy blankets, a squishy armchair that Selene liked to curl up in and a couple of house plants. 

But the most interesting item to appear was what she called her altar, a small, scarf draped table nestled in a corner near the window. It held her tools, candles, crystals and other interesting things he didn't know the use of. The room now smelled of sweet incense and warm candle wax instead of its scent of furniture polish and occasionally John's shower gel. 

He had expected the room to feel different, but he could still sense his brother's presence in there even though he was currently up in Five. Somehow they had managed to blend effortlessly, a natural evolution of the two. 

Gordon would never admit it but he had moments of intense jealousy when he saw the two of them together. Not that he begrudged his brother the happiness he had obviously found, nor that he saw Selene as anything but a much loved sister who often seemed like a female Scott, put there to worry, boss him around and force him to eat. 

No, he just wished he had the same thing. It seemed rather unfair that his brother could manage to meet someone in such a random way and find his perfect partner when, try as he might, he could never seem to get any closer to the one who held his heart in her perfectly manicured hand. 

He sighed, his shoulders slumping. It seemed that every time they got close to their moment something or someone got in the way. 

"Spit it out."

He jerked out of his musings. "What?" 

"Whatever it is that you're thinking so hard about," she reached out and smoothed her thumb down the scrunched up skin between his eyebrows. 

She was right, he had been hovering, mostly because he was trying to get up the guts to not only ask for help but put his plan into action. He guessed it was now or never. 

"Sel, I need your help with something, call it my birthday present."

Selene sat up a little straighter. "OK, obviously I'll help with anything, unless it's a prank on your brother, in which case I'll still help but I'll deny all knowledge and throw you under the bus in a heartbeat."

"Good to know," he grinned, her teasing as always, putting him at ease. "Promise you won't tell anyone about this either."

She touched her hand to her heart and drew a little cross. "Cross my heart, I won't tell a soul."

"OK, first I need to show you something, but we're gonna need transport."

                                        ***

Selene's nose was pressed against the window of the little sub, her eyes drinking in the sight of the world outside. 

"Wow…this is just…wow." She had never expected there to be so many colours illuminated by the powerful lights of Four. A moving rainbow of waving, pulsing, rippling beauty that covered the sea floor, building up into what could only be described as an underwater garden. Mounds of coral in all colours created a hilly backdrop for the shoals of colourful fish that swam lazily around them. 

"Better than space?" Gordon nudged her playfully with his elbow. 

"I will never admit it to your brother, but it might just top it. This is incredible, I mean, I've never even been scuba diving."

"You've never…" he shook his head in equal parts amazement and disappointment. "That's it, I'm teaching you to dive. It's amazing, you know John used to join me a lot, he likes to skindive," he saw the blank look on her face. "Where you dive without a suit, just with an aqualung and flippers. He helped teach me to swim you know, Scott wanted to throw me in and let me work it out for myself as Dad did to him and Virg, but John was insistent that he help."

"That's so cute."

"No it's not, it's manly and the complete opposite of cute."

"Sorry, not cute at all, you're right," but her grin said he would never change her mind, she was just humouring him. 

"We're nearly there," he said, changing the subject. "It should be around this area, I worked with Dr Forsythe at the Living Oceans foundation, who specialises in Coral Reef conservation, the results ended up being pretty positive."

"Is that where we're going now?" 

He nodded. "You should start seeing some any minute now."

It was nice and quite interesting to see the way Gordon handled his craft. It was nowhere near as big, fancy or fast as the other Thunderbirds, but he acted like it was an extension of himself. She was used to seeing Gordon as the playfully mischievous one that she often caught plotting something, or out on a mission when he was all seriousness with the odd burst of light. This was different, this was his element and he was beyond comfortable. It was nice to see him so relaxed and happy. 

The first flicker caught his eye and he paused, his finger pointing the way. Her eyes followed his directions, growing wider as she saw the result of his months of effort. 

"That… is truly amazing, boo. She'll love this."

"So you'll help me get her out here?" 

"Oh, you can count on it."

                                     ***

"I do so enjoy our little shopping trips," Penelope tucked her arm though Selene's, "you always find such interesting little shops that I would never have thought to look in."

They had wandered all over Union Square and were now making their way down to the bay, Selene having had a nice little restaurant recommended where they could have dinner. 

"I love that dress you got, you suit vintage, it will look beautiful on you. I just wish my style suited it a bit more, but we can't all be blonde and beautiful."

"Oh hush, I happen to know a certain space monitor who thinks you are the most beautiful woman in the world."

Selene smiled, catching sight of their destination. 

"And I happen to know an aquanaut who thinks the same about you," Selene pointed down to the beach where Four sat, surrounded by people. 

The shock on Penelope's face was a sight to behold, it took a lot to surprise her, but they had definitely managed it. 

"Don't keep him waiting."

"But what about dinner? What will you do, Parker isn't returning for at least four hours?" 

"John's picking me up in an hour in my car, we've got a date night. Now go," she gave Penelope a gentle push towards the railings.

Feeling uncharacteristically unsure as to what she was doing and rather ambushed, Penelope slowly descended the steps down to the beach. She had absolutely no idea what was going on, why was he even here, on his birthday of all days, when he should be celebrating with his family. 

The back hatch of Four opened to reveal a grinning Gordon. He cambered out, stretching to his full height but instead of the standard blue uniform he was dressed in smart, grey trousers and a plain white shirt with not a palm tree in sight. His usually messy hair was brushed and an attempt had clearly been made to tame the unruly mop. 

"Lady Penelope."

"Gordon, happy birthday."

"It is now, and also," he reached back into his craft and drew out a bouquet of pink roses, "happy Valentines day."

Penelope could feel an uncharacteristic blush warming her cheeks as she took the flowers. 

"Will you do me the honour of being my Valentine tonight?" 

She nodded. "I'd like that very much."

"I've got something to show you, care to take a little trip with me?" 

"How could I turn down such an offer?"

She took his offered hand and climbed aboard. 

                                     ***

Penny had been under water more times than she could count, being an experienced diver and having a car that was more than waterproof, but nothing compared to sitting beside Gordon Tracy as he piloted them deeper into the ocean. 

He'd programmed in the coordinates and left the small craft on autopilot as he produced a picnic basket from her favourite London deli, filled with all her favourites. 

She would never have believed that he had it in him to put together such a romantic gesture, he'd likely had a little help since Selene was obviously involved, but she found she didn't really mind. 

It was nice to be alone together, especially with no chance of interruption bar an emergency. No nosy Parker to wedge himself between them, no darling Bertie to demand their attention, no rescuees to reassure, no brothers to interrupt. Just them and the quiet peace of the ocean. It was rather blissful. 

Now that they had time to talk they made the most of it, chatting between bites of crusty bread, tangy cheese, succulent grapes and a very palatable white wine, catching up on their lives the past few months. 

She looked more beautiful than he had expected, dressed down in casual jeans and a cosy sweater, clothes that one wore to go shopping with a friend rather than to a society event. It was strange but most definitely not unpleasant to see her out of her comfort zone and designer clothes, to see the real woman underneath. This was the one he'd wanted to get to know, the one he was drawn to. 

Penelope found her gaze drawn over and over to the gentle curve of his lips as she watched him eat, recalling just how soft they had felt during their one, brief kiss. She hadn't planned it, she'd just been overwhelmed by everything, seeing him back on active duty after his brush with death had been emotional for her and she'd thrown aside all decorum, giving in to the urge. Now she wanted to be able to do that again, wanted to lean in, close the distance between them and lose herself in the unique presence that was Gordon Tracy. 

He blinked his big caramel eyes at her and she was done for, she inched forward as he did the same...BEEP… 

Gordon leapt back into the pilots seat as they neared a reef, growing instantly more serious as he took back control of the little craft from the autopilot now they had reached their destination, steering it expertly past clusters of coral and waving fronds of exotic underwater plants and little darting fish. 

Gordon watched her eyes drinking in the sight of the reef he'd so lovingly helped to cultivate, to save for future generations. 

"I've been working with a guy specialising in marine conservation breeding, basically breeding hardier fish with those that are endangered, trying to create new breeds that will survive the changing climate."

"Oh really? That's fascinating. Were you successful?" 

Gordon didn't speak for a second, guiding the nose of the sub around a particularly large group of pink puffy anemones. There they were, still in their shoal, lazily swimming, almost exactly where he and Selene had found them two days previously. 

"You tell me," he nodded towards the small, genetically perfect saddleback butterflyfish. 

"Oh my," Penelope stared at the fish, their bodies sparkling in the light of Four's high beams. There was only one way to describe the shine of their scales, the way they seemed to be a silvery pearl colour one moment and with a flick of their body you saw a rainbow of colours…

"Iridescent," she whispered in awe. "I have never seen anything so beautiful. And you helped create them?" 

Gordon smiled proudly, watching his babies swimming happily around the craft as they floated gently through the shoal. They were graceful, unbothered by their presence, seemingly curious as they came right up to the glass to investigate. "Yep, I got to name them too."

"You did? What are they called?" Penelope tickled her finger against the window, laughing with delight as a fish followed her movements, booping its nose on the glass. 

"Well, obviously they have their species name of Chaetodon Ephipippium but in English," he paused, slightly embarrassed now that he was here with her. He took a deep breath, remembering what Selene had instructed him, be bold, be brave, be daring."In English it's a Pretty Penny."

She blinked, unprepared for the wave of emotion his information provoked. He'd named them after her. These beautiful, unique creatures he'd created would forever be a reminder of just how special he was. 

"That's…well…it's very flattering, and they are certainly very pretty," Penelope turned her head, hoping he wouldn't see her blush. She didn't know what to say, how to react. 

Gordon's eyebrows drew down in a frown, did she not like them? Had he been wrong? Be bold, be brave…He reached out a hand and cupped her chin gently, turning her back to face him. 

"Do you not like them?" 

She covered his hand with hers, managing a shaky smile. "No, I love them."

"Then what's the problem?" 

"We can't, we can't do this, not now." She gently pulled his hand away and set it aside. 

"Why not? Give me one good reason?" he refused to let go of her hand. "Just one. Tell me you don't want me and I'll back off."

"What about finding your father? The launch of the new Zero-X?" 

"That isn't a reason not to, that's a reason to take every chance we can and act on it. We don't know what we're going to find up there, if we will even find anything at all. If this and International Rescue itself has taught us anything, it's that life is too short and too unpredictable to waste opportunities by being cautious and scared. You have to grab your happiness with both hands."

"This could change things between us, and not for the better." 

"Or it could make it more amazing. Look at John, he took a leap of faith and I've never seen him happier. I want that, Penny, I want that with you."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small jewellery box, opening it to reveal a natural pearl, carved into the shape of a seashell, strung on a delicate gold chain. 

"What do you say Valentine? Will you be mine?" 

His handsome face was full of hope but also wariness, fear of rejection. Would it be so bad to risk her heart on one such as he? Gordon was a joker, he rarely ever took anything seriously, but here he was, the most sincere she'd ever seen him.

He was one of the good guys, he saved people, he didn't hurt them. He was worth taking a risk for.

"Tell me you don't want me," he whispered again, a plea for her to tell him the truth. She was powerless to resist. 

"I can't," she whispered back as she moved closer. 

His lips brushed hers in the softest of kisses, his mouth catching her little sigh of relief as his arms slid around her waist, pulling her closer. There was no one to interrupt them, no one to tell them no, no one but them. 

No matter what happened in the future, good or bad, they would always have this moment, they would have each other, and the world would have the pretty little fishes that floated outside their little sub of solitude. 

[ionica01]

A Cup of Magic 7

I’ve just remembered I haven’t updated this in forever I’m a horrible disgusting human being who doesn’t deserve to live another day!

Anyhooow, here is my favourite chapter up to date! It’s all thanks to @kitanoko who brainstormed the last scene with me! Thanks, Dora!

Chapter 7: Smiles that Bend Science to Their Will

Shouto neither likes nor hates crowded places. In fact, there aren't many things he cares for enough to “like” or “hate” them. Unless something or someone goes out of their way to step on his toes, he doesn’t see any reason to make an effort to label them as “likeable” or “dislikeable”. There are just better things he can do during that time, like focusing on his studies or calling his sister. Occasionally, he goes out with Midoriya- mostly when he has to buy a present for Uraraka, his girlfriend of almost three years now, and spends 3 to 4 hours freaking out before giving in and calling Shouto and Iida for help.

The cafe he goes to daily used to be neutral, too. One would argue that visiting it with the religious regularity Shouto does proves otherwise, but that wasn’t the case. The place was quiet enough for him to study, but not so quiet that it would leave him time to dwell on the cold, dark apartment that he could never bring himself to call home. The people working there were nice, although Shouto sometimes thought they smiled too much (and he pitied them for the muscle pain in their cheeks), but not so nice that he’d bother learning their names.

As he crouches to the ground, pulling cat food out of one pocket, Shouto feels the weight of the other bag he’s carrying- a brown paper bag, one that didn’t use to hang from his hand merely a few days ago.

The cat Shouto feeds every day on his way to the cafe peeks shily from the bushes, recognises her benefactor and approaches. She sniffs at her food and pushes her head in Shouto’s open palm before nibbling on the treat. He scratches her between her ears, and thinks that some things never change.

This cat, for example, is here every day, a constant in his life, an anchor that Shouto has tied himself to, afraid to lose himself otherwise. He doesn’t know exactly where he’d lose himself- whether it be in life or just in the mix of threads that he doesn’t dare separate called feelings- but he knows he can’t let her go, no matter what.

But there are variables in his life, too- they are usually the ones Shouto at least despises, if not outright hates. There was having to move out, for instance, leaving the calm lifestyle he shared with his sister and being left to fend for himself. There’s the fridge that can’t refill itself and the convenience store that was only two blocks away that closed down last week, so now Shouto has to take a fifteen minute walk when he doesn’t feel like falling asleep to the grumbles of his stomach.

And then there’s her.

She’s the one exception to every single one of the feeble rules that dictate Shouto’s life. One day, she waltzed up to the bar instead of the man who drew smiles on his cup and started talking to him without any ulterior motive. She made him want to remember the names of the baristas in the cafe, and told him stories about them that gave them a background and made them feel real. She made him add a dessert to every cup of indifferent green tea he drank.

She forced A Cup of Magic off the “indifferent” list where Shouto had pinned it and put it on the very short list of things Shouto likes. His mother and sister. His older twin brothers, when they aren’t teasing him. Midoriya and Iida. His cat. Green tea. Dancing. Classical music.

A Cup of Magic.

Momo.

He gets up and the weight of the brown bag tugs on his hand, but it somehow doesn’t feel like a burden. It’s quite the opposite, Shouto thinks, not without surprise: the changes that she brought in his life make him lighter, and he walks towards the cafe as if he grew wings. He spares the stray cat a last look, but she has already ducked her head and sprang in the narrow alleyway where she hides most of the day.

The path to the cafe is always the same, barely visible under the people rushing out of university to grab their daily caffeine supply, hopefully enough to last them until their evening classes are over. Shouto inwardly sighs relieved, thinking that being a third year brings several advantages, one of which is the loose program. His backpack, heavy with research material, reminds him what the price for his freedom is.

People rushing in and out of the cafe make the chimes jingle almost without pause, but it doesn’t bother Shouto. Its chirp is actually one of his favourite sounds now, because whenever it pierces through the atmospheric music, it makes her lift her head, her eyes tracking the shop to him and her face breaking into a wide smile.

This smile is perhaps number 1 on Shouto’s list of favourite things. When he was in highschool, he had to explain the passage “and when she smiled, the stars lit up and the world stopped moving all at once” in an exam. He remembers thinking that the sentence was quite pretentious, and that it was a clear exaggeration to emphasise the character’s feelings.

Shouto regrets not remembering who wrote that passage, because he’d like to tell him that he now understands. He understands it’s actually a simplification of the real feeling, or that the author hasn’t seen her smile, in which case Shouto pities him, because he’s certain that her smile is the single, most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

The night sky is nothing in comparison to her smiling face, and no star has anything on the way her eyes sparkle with genuine emotion. It reminds Shouto of his mother’s face when she sees him enter her perfectly white room,but it's different from that, because it sets his heart racing and makes him feel something he didn’t know he was capable of mustering.

As he sits in line, Shouto watches her serve everyone with a smile, and realises he may have gone crazy, because he’s positive that the smile she gives him is different. For once, her lips part just barely when she sees him, revealing pearl-like teeth, and her honest onyx eyes glint with something unidentifiable. He wonders if that is the cause for the fuzzy feeling in his chest whose name he has googled more times that he can remember, but found only gibberish: he’s either in love or dying.

“Hello,” she greets him when it’s finally his turn, and it rolls of her tongue naturally, as if she knew he would be there around now. She effortlessly drows a cup from the stack on the counter and starts writing his name, about to jot down the usual order when Shouto stops her.

“I want the Winter Wonderland today,” he throws away one more constant in his life out of the window but regrets nothing, because after she blinks confused she smiles. Shouto wonders if it would be too weird to take a picture of it and make it his wallpaper.

Instead of drawing out his phone though, he puts the brown bag on the counter. “They had blueberry filling today,” he says and watches her smile bloom into a grin. There’s that surge of happiness in his chest again, the one Shouto would like to get checked at a hospital, but he does his best not to let it show on his face. She worried so much about his cold hand that he doesn’t want her to have a heart attack when she hears his heart is beating too fast.

“Thank you,” she nods and hands the cup over to Uravity. The name feels weird in Shouto’s mind- he’s only recently began referring to the round-faced, brown-haired girl like that.

He leaves the counter faster than he wants to. Uravity gives him a smile with a tilt of something daring to it, but he doesn’t dwell on the meaning of her dimples when he notices that she looks more flushed than usual.

“Are you feeling alright?” he asks as he picks up his drink.

“Of course!” She nods less energetically than usual, and Shouto can’t help but feel a pang of sharp pain through his chest. The last time he felt that was when Momo almost fell on Friday, and when Midoriya broke his arm last year. He gulps the fear back and lingers a moment longer than needed, deciding to retreat in the end.

Still worried about Uravity, Shouto has difficulty in focusing on his work, and contemplates the drawbacks of putting living beings on his “like” list- they make him concerned when they are feeling unwell. He catches himself staring at Momo and loosens a breath he didn’t realise he was holding.

When he first chose this seat, it was because it felt secure, hidden in a corner of the cafe, protecting him from the buzz of the counter. He can now see another advantage to it: from here, he can watch the baristas work around the customers, swirling on their heels to deliver the orders. Sometimes, Shouto is sure they will collide and holds his breath, but the staff is so tightly knit together that it’s like they know what path the others will take, and they dance by each other effortlessly.

He never used to watch the people, preferring the calming mahogany of the wooden furniture. The counter with its countless little drawers for herbal infusions, the jars of ground coffee and the general smell of the shop are exactly how Shouto imagined a witch’s house in the stories his mother used to read to him. But the air smelling of melted chocolate and the music that lures him into a drowsy state are proof enough that whichever witch designed A Cup of Magic must have worked against the forces of evil.

In the middle of the buzz hour, from the counter where good witches (fairies, perhaps?) hide, Momo finds a smile for everyone, and Shouto loses track of time as he watches her. He wouldn't describe himself as a stalker, but he doesn’t stare at her like she’s a work of art either, though granted, she is beautiful. Watching her is more of a healing process for Shouto, as it inexplicably makes him feel at ease and brings him peace of mind, inducing that kind of mentality he needs to sort through his thermodynamics assignments.

Today is just another one of those calm days when he loses himself in the pace of the cafe and in his work, or at least that’s what Shouto thinks. And until he empties half of his drink and finishes the bulk of his homework for All Might, nothing proves him wrong.

And then there’s a thud.

It’s so loud that Shouto looks up from his research immediately and almost jumps from his seat when he sees it. It all happens too quickly, but he’s at the counter before he knows what willed his feet to move, elbowing his way through the growing crowd around the island.

“Uravity!” Momo raises her voice in the commotion, and Shouto hears it before he can see the scene. “Ochako!” she yells now, and Shouto freezes just as his eyes fall upon the scene, because he knows that name and how hasn’t he made the connection before?

“Hey, Midoriya, what’s with that bracelet you’re always wearing?” Shouto asks as he watches Midoriya sigh in relief, clenching his fist around the bracelet that almost fell into the centrifugal wheel.

He looks up and smiles sheepishly, one finger absentmindedly tracing the symbol of infinity carved in metal and tied by two straps of green leather over his wrist, where it has been ever since Shouto met him. “It was a gift from my girlfriend,” he admits and blushes at the use of the word.

Shouto isn’t surprised that Midoriya has a girlfriend, despite him never bragging about her. He guesses it might be the “Uraraka” that keeps popping up in their discussions.

Still, Midoriya adds, “I bought her a pendant in the shape of infinity for her birthday, and she bought me this for Christmas. I guess we were thinking of the same thing.”

The way Midoriya talks is nonchalant, but there’s a serene look on his face and he keeps tracking the outline of his bracelet with a faraway look that tells Shouto there’s more to it than just a present. He doesn’t really get “love”, but his sister has tortured him with enough cheesy romance movies to teach him that matching items are more than just a coincidence.

They’re an unspoken promise.

The pendant hanging around Uravity’s neck reflects the light of the cafe and it burns Shouto’s retinas. He jumps over the counter before anyone can stop him.

“Uraraka, are you okay?” The words rip from his throat as if they’re too big to get out and need to be pulled by force.

She flashes him a weak smile. “It’s nothing, I’m just a bit dizzy.”

“You fainted!” Momo says as she wipes Uraraka’s brow and frowns. “Ah, as expected, you have a fever. This isn’t nothing. You need to get home and rest.”

“It’s fine, I can at least finish my shift. The shop is crowded and-” she speaks softly, her eyelids half closed despite her efforts to seem okay. Shouto glances around the counter, where Sato is keeping the others at bay and assuring them their favourite Uravity is alright, but he doesn’t look too convinced of the fact himself.

“I’ll call Midoriya to pick you up,” Shouto decides after giving Uraraka a pointed look and blaming himself for not pushing for details earlier.

“Deku?” Uraraka faintly menages, and flaps her hands weakly in front of her. “He’ll get worried, don’t-”

But it’s too late. Midoriya picks up from the third ring and asks, “Todoroki? This is rare, is everything alright?”

He ignores Momo’s flicker of curiosity amidst the worry for Uraraka that paints her face and breathes in. “I need you to come to the coffee shop next to the university. Uraraka has collapsed.”

He hears Midoriya get up and there’s rustling on the other end of the phone. “Is she awake? Wait, how do you- actually no, do I need to bring something?” There’s the jingle of keys accompanying the urgency in his tone and then tensed silence.

“No. She has a fever and passed out earlier, but no other symptoms.”

He looks at Momo for more details, but she only mumbles,  “Probably from overworking herself.”

There’s rustling again, and then the thud of Midoriya’s footsteps against cement. “Thank you for letting me know. Please look after her until I get there.”

Shouto can read the modulations in Midoriya’s voice, the confusion, the worry and the adrenaline rush, the fear caused by his attachment to Uraraka, and wonders if he ever was or will be so concerned about someone. His eyes flicker to Momo and he wonders how he would react if someone called to tell him she had fainted. He decides he doesn’t want to know the answer.

“Will do,” he assures Midoriya and hangs up. “He should be here in about 15 minutes,” he informs the girls after he quickly calculates how far Midoriya’s apartment is. Maybe 10, if he runs.

“Thank you,” Momo says and doesn’t ask why he knows Midoriya or that Uraraka is his girlfriend, but instead allows herself to look a bit relieved. Shouto glances down at Ochako, whose cheeks have grown even redder. She stops resisting Midoriya’s arrival, using the energy she has left to inhale the mint Momo has placed under her nose to clear her nostrils. “We should carry her to the lockers,” Momo says, not taking her eyes off Uraraka.

“I’ll do it,” he offers. Nobody complains as he scoops up Uraraka, trying to figure out how to carry her without making her uncomfortable. He tucks a hand under her knees and one rests on the small of her back, and she adjusts by circling his throat with one of her arms, weakly clinging to him.

She’s surprisingly light, and Shouto suddenly feels like she’s fragile, an object that can break as a result of his own carelessness, and he lightens his grip on her, just enough so he won’t drop her. Is this what it means to be protective?

“I’m sorry,” she mutters under her breath, so only Shouto can hear.

He doesn’t know what she’s apologising for, but he mutters back, “It’s okay. He’ll be here soon.”

He feels her nod against his chest, and despite her state, a fond smile curls around her lips, one that Shouto think only people that have others to worry for them can show. It’s new, seeing the bouncy Uravity show this side of her, and it only solidifies her place on the list of things Shouto cares for.

Momo jumbles with the keys, unlocking the space reserved to the staff members. As soon as they’re in, she makes Uraraka sit down, and then she dips a cloth in freshwater and places it on Uraraka’s forehead. The next five minutes are more of Momo running around the locker, searching her purse for pills and asking Sato to fix their friend a cup of chamomile tea, all while Uraraka declines the attention and care directed in her way.

“Listen,” Momo eventually snaps, cutting through all that Uraraka has to say. “You are sick and we are your friends, so would you just shut up and let us help you?” She doesn’t wait for an answer and hands the cloth she had just peeled off Uraraka’s forehead to Shouto before leaving to get the tea and a blanket.

Left alone with Uraraka, Shouto finds himself saying “She’s right.” He doesn’t know what prompted him to talk, but her curious look makes him continue, “People would naturally worry about you because they care. I think this is proof you’re important to them,” he tells her as he brushes her bangs apart and puts the now cold again cloth on her forehead. The image of his sister doing the same for him after he had fallen in a frozen pond when he was 6 flashes before his eyes and he smiles a little.

Uraraka mirrors the smile. “You’re right. Thank you,” she says weakly and lays on the bench she’s resting on. “Momo’s going to lecture me once I get better, isn’t she?” she mumbles to herself.

“Probably,” Shouto admits. Her having a cold doesn’t mean he should lie to her.

Momo enters the room shortly thereafter, a fluffy blanket in her arms and a cup of tea fuming in her hand. “Here,” she hands Shouto the drink and proceeds to wrap Uraraka like a baby, which elicits a small giggle out of the sick girl. Momo’s eyebrows arch, but Shouto notices a fond smile nestling on her lips and feels himself relax. Somehow, it feels like, if Momo’s here, nothing can go wrong.

Midoriya is escorted in by Sato only two minutes later, panting and cheeks red, and Shouto concludes he must have ran all the way here- he only needed 8 minutes, too.

“Ah, Deku!” Uraraka greets from her cocoon of blankets and warmth.

Nobody has a chance to explain what happened, because Midoriya closes the distance between him and Uraraka in an instant and presses a hand against her forehead, checking her temperature. His face darkens as he asks, “Does anything hurt? Throat? Head? Since when? Do you need medicine?”

He only stops when Uraraka muffles his mouth with her hand. “I won’t die, Deku,” she says lightly, but as he removes her hand from his face gently, her smile withers, because he looks dead serious.

“I know,” he sighs, squeezing her hand tightly. “But I hate seeing you suffer.”

Shouto can only watch silently, retreating in a corner to give the couple space. They look like they are already family, and Shouto notices the bracelet hanging from Deku’s wrist again. He know finds the answer to his earlier question: this is being protective.

Something brushes against his arm and Shouto sees Momo has retreated next to him. “She’ll be fine now,” she says confidently and Shouto can only nod in return. She’s in good hands.

After Midoriya is done with his interrogating Uraraka and thanking the staff for looking after her, he listens to Momo’s instructions and picks Uraraka up, together with her blanket, piggyback style. He thanks Shouto for a tenth time and is about to leave when Uraraka yelps, “What about my shift? The cafe-”

“We can manage,” Momo assures her. Shouto steals a glance outside the lockers and wonders if two people can really face that crowd. Momo is smiling confidently, but it’s probably for Uraraka’s sake.

“I can do it,” Shouto says before he meaning of the words that have left his mouth sink in and feels everyone staring at him.

***

When Shouto suddenly offered to take over Uraraka’s shift, Momo wasn’t sure she heard him right. And yet here he is, blue apron tied around his waist, jotting down orders, taking his job as serious as he takes his studies. She had her doubts about suddenly dumping the job on him- the new baristas usually undergo a thorough training- but he caught the drift of taking orders fast.

He’s handling the customers politely, but he’s a bit rusty with his smiles and doesn’t seem to be aware of the many first time female customers ogling him. When he was sitting in a corner of the cafe, he was safe from prying eyes, but here, in his uniform and in everyone’s view, Momo can’t deny he looks dashingly good. She shakes the pang of jealousy she feels- she has no right to feel that way, and it benefits their business so-

“-mo. Momo,” someone calls her. When she whips her head around, she’s met with mismatched eyes too close for comfort and feels the blood rising to her cheeks. “Did you catch a cold, as well?” Shouto asks and is about to press his palm to her forehead.

She takes a step back and smiles what she hopes to be a convincing smile. “No, I’m alright. Do you need help with something?”

He doesn’t look persuaded, but only says, “It’s almost closing time. Should I inform that group?” he asks, pointing towards the five or so teenager girls batting their eyelashes sweetly at him.

Momo’s eyes shift from him to them and back to him. He hasn’t even spared them a sideways glance. She feels stupid now, because it’s obvious he has taken no interest in his fans, and she made him worry, too. “It’s alright, I can tell them,” she smiles, suddenly feeling pity for the girls.

“Okay. I’ll start cleaning up then,” he says as he picks a wiping cloth and make his way towards the back corner, but not as a customer this time.

***

The shop is mostly empty, save for the two people swiping the floor. Sato left early today, excusing himself to go pick up his parents from the train station- he has been excited about their visiting his new apartment and workplace for a while now- and Momo assured him she and Shouto could close up just fine.

She would like to thank him somehow, but she also has oh so many questions to ask: how does he know Midoriya? Did he know Ochako was Midoriya’s girlfriend? Why did he offer to help? So many words bubble up inside her, racing to get out the fastest, that she can’t decide what to say.

Because she can’t speak, she supposes she’d let music do it for her, and fishes an old vinyl disc from the back room.

When the music fills the shop with its first violin accords, he raises his eyes from the wooden tiles on the floor. “Strauss-The Blue Danube,” he immediately recognises the piece. “Switching back to classical music?” he asks, but it’s more of an observation than an actual question.

She feels it would be too cheesy to admit that she’s associated the piece with Shouto ever since she saw him, because of his blue eye and serene atmosphere surrounding him. Instead, she says, “It was the least I could do. After all, you’ve been a huge help today.”

She doesn’t know how she expected him to react, but it certainly wasn’t like this, because after he stares at her for almost a whole minute, seemingly pondering something, he lets the broom rest against a table and stretches his hand out to her. Momo’s eyes dart towards the old pickup, and then back to him, wondering if she’s misunderstanding.

“Do you want to dance?” he voices her thoughts out loud.

She doesn’t get a chance to answer more properly than with a nod: as soon as she approves, he takes her hand and leads the well known waltz, spinning her around the tables in the cafe. Momo quickly finds her pacing, and she also finds out that Shouto is a great dancer. She doesn’t know many people that could whirl around the chairs and armchairs without skipping a beat.

“You’re good at this,” she eventually decides to tell him, after they’ve almost completed a tour of the entire shop.

It may be her imagination- as this whole evening could be, because what barista’s normal shift culminates with waltzing in the closed shop with dim lights- but his lips crook into something akin to a smirk. “I may have not taken piano or violin lessons, but I didn’t escape the dance classes. And apparently, neither did you.”

Under normal circumstances, Momo would blush, but the song just got faster and she has already decided this is a dream, so she smirks back. Maybe it’s because of the music, or the unrealistic situation, or just the timing, but the words finally reach her lips and fall off them with ease. “So you know Midoriya?”

He doesn’t hesitate to answer either. “Yes, he is my friend. We’ve been having classes together ever since the start of the year.”

“So you’re a Physics major?” There’s more spinning, more avoiding tables, more music, more talking. She doesn’t know if he has pulled her closer or if her body moved on her own, but she is close enough to realise he is just a bit taller than her, and to look into his mismatched eyes. She decides that people who say that heterochromatic eyes are confusing are lying.

“Yes. Well, actually, I’m a Thermodynamics major, and Midoriya’s a Quantum Mechanics major, so we only have a handful of classes together.”

“Then I imagine you must be quite good friends if you knew Ochako.”

“Actually, I’ve never seen them together. He did tell me a few things about her, though. I should have recognised her sooner.” Something curtains his eyes and Momo can tell it’s concern, so she changes the subject.

“I’m a Chemistry major. Food Chemistry, to be exact.”

There’s silence as their feet slow down with the music, and she wonders if she failed to distract him, but then he says, “It fits you.”

���How so?”

He pinpoints her with his mismatched eyes, and spins her for the last encore. “You look like you want to break the world apart and rebuild it so that everybody will be happy,” he says as the last notes of The Blue Danube echo in the shop, and then adds,  "When it's you that says they believe in magic, I almost believe it, too."

They come to a halt as the melody dies out. For a moment, she stares at him blankly, too focused on his words to even wheeze after the waltz, still holding his hand- the hot one.

“Is something wrong?” he asks, not letting go of her either, and she wonders if she made him worry again.

“Nothing,” she smiles, and the smile blooms into a giggle that escalates into a genuine laugh. He looks at her weirdly, but she just finds the situation too bizarre to react to in any other way. It’s not long before she hears a deep chuckle, like a purr, mingle with her own and she laughs even louder.

Maybe Ochako was right after all. Maybe she does have a crush on him.

[rkmg]

〈★〉MGAS SEASON 4 - EPISODE FIVE - TEAM PERFORMANCE           ↳ team f aka one night ( #4016, #4023, #4040, #4049, #4050 )                        ↳ songs: just one day x why so lonely - line distribution

Indifference. Upon hearing where his team had ranked, that’s what he felt. He probably should have been happy, excited... anything at all, really. But, no. In reality, he felt very little. There wasn’t a huge smile on his face, though there wasn’t a frown present, either. Instead, his face was just... blank. No one from his team would be going home. That was a relief, of course, it was. Regardless, he felt no overflowing amounts of joy. Once again, his confidence had deceived him. He really has no idea what these people want from them. They could give it their all, work for hours, rarely go home in exchange for practicing, have more creativity and effort than some of the other teams, but still hardly make the damn cut.

Truthfully, he was lost. God knows he didn’t expect this to be easy, but he didn’t know that it would be this emotionally draining, either. He had no idea that he would get attached to people and constantly feel disappointment even when he wasn’t the one being called out and eliminated from the show. It’s fucking exhausting, really. Did that mean he was giving up? Hell no. But perhaps what he thought had been the correct approach all of this time wasn’t actually. He couldn’t keep destroying himself like this. If sleeping in a practice room didn’t increase his chances of doing well, why did he bother? If bonding thoroughly with his team and showing wonderful teamwork didn’t catch the judges attention, then why. did he. bother?

It’s probably not beneficial to think that way, he’s aware of that. He would fix his mindset and try to healthily go about everything once more, he just needed a little time. Time... to heal from whatever it is that’s wounded him like this. There was no doubt in his mind that no team would compare to this one. Perhaps going into a new time with that thought in mind wasn’t the smartest choice. He didn’t even know any of the people he met next, why should he feel any disappointment at all? It wasn’t fair on them... but most of them didn’t appear to be here to make friends, anyway. This week did not go by as easily as the last one did.

Finding out that Yerim was dropping out was definitely a shame, to say the least. She deserved so much, so since she wasn’t going to receive it all on this show, he hoped that she would get it in the future. Keeping in contact with his team from the previous week was very high on his to-do list. It was probably right under ‘go home more often, you piece of shit. you’re driving yourself into the ground and nobody even cares. get some rest so you don’t die before you can win’.

So, that’s what he did. For the entirety of the week, he never bothered sleeping on an uncomfortable floor. His first time home, however, he figured that he’d be alone in this decision. It was very late at night when he entered his parents’ bedroom, quietly making his way over to their bed and attempting to subtly crawl in next to his mother. Of course, that didn’t exactly go according to plan and she was awake in seconds, looking at him with wide eyes that were full of amusement and fondness. It was obvious that she missed him... he missed her, too.

She quietly greeted him, voice no louder than a gentle whisper as she brushed his hair back from his forehead. Her touch was so soft and loving... he was so happy to be home with her. She made comments that most concerned mothers would... asking if he’s eaten much, telling him that he looks tired, just making sure that he was okay in general. He would reassure her and she’d smile. Her smile was so pretty. He hoped that his time on the show had never caused her to frown. She deserved happiness and comfort, never anything less.

After spending several minutes with her, she informed him, “Won is home, too. Did you know that?” Well... no, of course he didn’t know that. Immediately, his expression shifted and he quickly pressed a kiss to the woman’s cheek, standing from their bed and making his way to his room. His footsteps were louder than he intended and his socked feet nearly caused him to slip as he rounded a corner, though he was able to regain his balance and make it into his shared room where his boyfriend slept without breaking his neck in the dark.

As soon as he saw the boy, a warmth and calmness washed over him like tall waves. He could drown in this feeling... it’d be good for him. Approaching the bed slowly, he shed most of his clothing until he was down to what he felt the most cozy in, sucking in a sharp breath as he began climbing onto the mattress. He caused it to dip down from his weight and briefly paused, afraid that he would wake his sleeping beauty if he hadn’t already. Eventually, he decided that there wouldn’t be much harm in that, however, or maybe he was just selfish; it’d be a lie to claim that he didn’t miss his kisses or the sound of his voice.

Moving more carelessly, Mingyu presses himself against the younger boy’s back and wraps an arm around him, sliding his hand under the other’s shirt and soothingly rubbing circles against a soft stomach. He presses his nose and mouth against the back of a familiar neck and breathes in the scent, leaving a kiss there while he’s at it. Just as he should have predicted it’d happen, Won awakened from the commotion of Mingyu joining him. Seconds later, he’s turning over and greeting the older boy with a seemingly apologetic and longing kiss. After situating himself so he can do so more effortlessly, the taller deepens the kiss as he returns it with as much tenderness as he can muster, only pulling away when he feels that he absolutely needs to. His hand moves to stroke along Won’s jawline, soon moving to ghost his thumb over his lips.

“I’ve missed you,” is breathed out, hardly even a whisper as he stares at the boy that he loves more than anything else in the world. Then, a cool hand is slipping underneath his own shirt, pressing against his back and causing a slight shiver to run up his spine. “I missed you, too. So much.” The older smiles a bit, rolling over so that he’s on his back with Won on top of him, finally settling down and beginning to stroke the younger’s hair. Words couldn’t even begin to express how in love with Won that Mingyu was. Unable to help it, he pressed another kiss to the other boy, though this time to his forehead. As if it was some sort of competition, his boyfriend kissed along his jaw in retaliation which caused Mingyu to gently laugh. “I love you.” “I love you.”

The nineteen-year-old was right in believing that he needed this.

Then, it was back to work just like that. The boy was up before the sun was and headed back to Nova’s practice room, though he wasn’t entirely sure how happy he was to be there. It didn’t take long for the team to agree on what songs they’d be doing, though they did have a few bumps in the road. Out of the two eligible to be team leader, neither really wanted it. The title ended up finding itself at Mingyu’s door and it was impossible for him to send it off. In a way, it kind of made him honored. Yet, at the same time, it was a very heavy burden. It seemed a little unfair to his group members that he would be the one claiming to lead them. It seemed like... a lie, in a way. What could he have to offer any of them? What was he bringing to the table? It was kind of deceitful if you genuinely take the time to think about it for a minute.

That’s how he ended up sitting on the floor of the practice room, cell phone tightly being held in his hand. His first thought was to call Won, though he knew that wouldn’t be a good idea. He was going to be on camera, after all... unless he wanted to leave the room and head to the bathroom or something, though that didn’t seem like an ideal setting... So, if he was watched and listened to, so be it. He thought it would probably be best if he put himself on speakerphone, just so that they would know for a fact that he was on the phone with his mother... he was kind of afraid of the editing and didn’t want to be accused of having a girlfriend or something. That’d be... really strange and he was not prepared for that at all.

He waited for the phone to ring, drawing in a shaky breath until he heard his mother’s voice on the other line. “Hey...”

“Mingyu? Are you okay, is something wrong?”

“No, no, nothing like that. I mean... I’m not hurt or anything, if that’s what you’re wondering. I’m just━” he paused, sighing a little. “I’m just not really sure how to feel about things.”

“What do you mean? What things?”

“Well... I’m supposed to be the leader this week.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”

“In theory... yeah. But I never was much of a leader. I don’t know if I’ll do well. If they fail, that’ll be on me, right?”

“No, Mingyu... You don’t give yourself enough credit. You genuinely care about people and want to see them succeed. That’s a great quality for a leader to have. You don’t want to step on others in order to get yourself closer to the top... you’re a good boy and I think people see that. I think the fact that you’re worrying over being the possible cause of someone else’s failure kind of proves that you’d lead just fine. You take responsibility and don’t try to pin things on others... trust me when I say that I’m sure you won’t have to worry, though. You’ll do great.”

It wasn’t what he was expecting to hear but it did well to calm him regardless. Briefly, he chewed on his lower lip as he remained silent, eventually settling on how to reply. “I... yeah. Have I told you recently that you’re the best mother a guy could ask for?”

They both laughed, his shoulders losing some tension as he relaxed on the floor.

“You don’t have to tell me because I already know that. Are you eating regularly?”

“Uh... I should probably go eat now.”

“Mingyu...”

“Sorry, sorry, I just get so caught up practicing. I’ll go now, okay?”

“Okay. Call me anytime, alright? If you need anything, I’ll always be right here.”

“I know... I love you.”

“I love you, too, Mingyu.”

For a while, he forgot that he wasn’t alone. As soon as the call ended, a light pink dusted his cheeks but he tried to ignore it. Standing up, he brushed himself off and got back to practicing the choreography for their performance. He felt proud that he was improving as a dancer and didn’t need as much help as he had in the previous weeks, though he wasn’t going to allow himself to begin slacking off, either. This was really important... he needed to succeed. He really, really wanted his team to do well. If no one would get eliminated while he was team leader, that would look really well for him, right? He just had to hope.

On the day of the performance he felt oddly calm. There was a hint of excitement to prove himself, but the nervousness hadn’t kicked in just yet. That wasn’t to say that it wouldn’t show up once he was on the stage... but for the time, he felt at ease. No matter what happened today, he felt like everything was going to be okay. With each episode, the need for survival intensifies. Still, he didn’t think it was his time to go... not just yet, anyway. He hoped not at all, but... only time would tell. If he was eliminated, there would have to be a good reason for it... or so, that’s what he told himself in order to not get too worked up. This would be fine... he’d be fine.

When he was on stage, everything seemed so familiar once again. He was getting used to being here... he hoped he wouldn’t have the chance for that to fade. This was like a dream come true... each week, he was given the chance to have a taste of what his life could be like if he would succeed.

“We’re your dream! Hello, we’re one night!” A bright smile made its way onto his face as he introduced himself with a, “I’m one night’s hopeful leader, Kim Mingyu!” Personally, he didn’t think it was as good as last week’s... but perhaps nothing would top fresh n’ fruity. If Won had been with them, he would have been perfectly happy debuting just like that. They had a really good dynamic... he really missed them. It still caused him to feel a painful pang in his chest at the reminder that Yerim was no longer in this competition. However, now wasn’t the time to focus on that. For now, he had to get this performance out of the way so he could begin praying that he’d be standing here again next week.

Yeah just one day, one night

Apart from Daniel’s ‘yeah’s, Mingyu has the first real line of the song. It’s spoken, however, and he has yet to show his performance talents, though he’s still pleased with himself. His reasoning is that he believes himself to be getting better at presenting himself on stage. With all of the time he’s spent here these last several weeks, he was getting much better at this. Practice makes perfect, right? Fake it ‘til you make it? He wasn’t sure if that applied, but... whatever.

너와 단둘이 보내는 party party

His second line came a bit later in the song, though that would be made up for later when he has his two rap verses. He’s really pleased in their song choices and the way that they go together... it was interesting, that was for sure. He felt like most of his team members were really well matched with this type of concept. Especially Chungha and Kyungri, though that was just his opinion.

그럼 내게 하루만 줘, 꿈 속이라도 하루만 현실을 핑계 대며 삼켜야 했던 그 수많은 말 중에서 딱 한 마디만 제대로 할 수 있게 그래 나팔꽃이 필 때 ���나 헤어지자 꽃이 질 때 쉽게 잊혀질 거라 생각 안 했지만 너에게 난 그랬음 좋겠다면 이기적일까 널 위해서라며 아직 난 거짓말하고 있어 넌 내 한가운데 서 있어

The line distribution did a good job of highlighting their talents. There hasn’t really been a performance that he’s participated in so far that he didn’t have the parts that he wanted. Perhaps that’s why he’s even still in this thing... if he is doing the lines that he is the most comfortable with and feels like shows off his talents well, then... maybe he’s right. He just hopes that he can keep this up. After so much hard work, it would really hurt to leave.

귀찮다는 듯 얼굴을 구겨 뭐든 대충대충 당연하단 듯 너는 우겨 담엔 더 잘해줄게 응? 다음이 어디 있어 네 이번 기회 떠나기 전 오 아직도 넌 정신 못 차리면

Honestly, his second rap was the one that he wanted the most. It was the only one included in their performance that came from h.a.m’s song, which he was really drawn to. He didn’t think he’d do it anywhere near as much justice as the original girl, though he hoped it’d still be good enough to win over the judges.

Can you please stay with me?

After he spoke his last line and the performance ended, he took a moment on stage to catch his breath. The smile on his face was huge and happy, eyes glistening with both joy and pride. Tonight was extremely important and now he really felt his nerves setting in. God, he hoped that everything worked out in their favor. They’ve all worked hard... he doesn’t want to see any of his team go home. Despite the fact that last week, no one was eliminated from his team, he still had to watch someone leave... he’s always had to watch someone leave. He didn’t want it to be that way again... every one of them deserved to be here. He hoped they’d be here on this stage again next week, too.

[stelablack]

fic: four times alex danvers almost kissed a girl (and the one time she did)

rated R, ~3,000 words, alex danvers; alex/maggie.   read on ff.net

i -

Vicky was terrible at Chemistry.

Once, before a test, they’d stayed up until 3am so she could memorize the whole periodic table and even then she got a B-. Alex thought she’d never really get it, but she kept helping her because that’s what friends were for. In turn, Vicky would help her with English and the whole 18th century literature. Jane Austen, Jonathan Swift and the likes, they all sounded the same to Alex and she had no idea why they were so important in the first place.

Chemistry, the elements, they were the basics of life, they showed her how and why everything work the way they do, they were a sure fire way of understanding the world around them. The words of Ann Murry weren’t helping her to figure out anything, in fact, they were making everything harder and more complicated.

But they had a system and it worked. By the time they were freshmen they had perfected the system and it was actually fun to study. Vicky had a really interesting way of breaking down the books they were studying by themes and the stories always sounded richer coming from her. The way she talked, Alex couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it never failed to captivate her.

When sophomore year rolled around, Alex started to get restless. She didn’t know why, but she could just feel something was different and it was driving her mad not knowing exactly what it was. That was the year she had a huge falling out with Kara and they spent almost a week not talking to each other; the year she dated Matt Stevens for two weeks and when he tried to feel her up under her shirt she punched him in the groin and he told the whole school she was a frigid bitch. That was so not an easy year for her.

The only thing that made it worth was Vicky and her friendship. They became closer than ever and they had constant sleepovers, which lead to them basically sharing each others beds on a regular basis.

That night they were studying for a chem test, so it was a given it would be a long night. At some point they feel asleep, dead tired from all the actual studying, and when Alex woke up she felt at peace. Vicky had her arm around her, a hand resting low on her abdomen, and that was the first (and only) time Alex realized how soft her friend’s hand was. Vicky was so close she could smell her shampoo and, unconsciously, she buried herself deeper into her friend’s arms for the total of five second before she heard a yawn.

“Morning, Al.”

When she turned around to reply her good morning Vicky was so close she could feel her breath on her face and for a split second Alex thought they would kiss. As soon as that crossed her mind she jumped out of bed and said something about having to take a shower so they weren’t late to class and their test.

(Later that week she went on a date with Vicky’s ex boyfriend and she told herself she was in love with him, that it was real; but, every time he kissed her, all she felt was guilt.)

ii -

Stanford was amazing and her lab partner was awesome!

In her second year at college Alex was finally feeling at ease and enjoying the experience, she wasn’t the new girl anymore, she knew how to go from her dorm to the library and from there to the cafeteria in record time, she didn’t feel the need to prove herself to anyone, she was at home. Finally.

So, when she met Allyson, it felt natural and normal and it had been a long time since Alex had made a friend so effortlessly.

Soon enough they started to hang outside of the lab department, going to the movies and stopping to grab lunch together whenever was possible. At first she thought it was weird that Allyson never talked about guys. One night, they were at the library working on their presentation for the next day and when they took a break the conversation migrated to past experiences with boys but it was mainly Alex talking about all the terrible dates she’d had, and how all the boys she in high school only wanted to sleep with her, nothing more. She spent a good hour talking about herself and, even if Allyson seemed genuinely interested, she never disclosed much about her own experiences.

Later that night, alone in her dorm, Alex told Kara on the phone how nice it was to finally find someone who was as bad as her on the dating game. She could almost her her sister’s pout when she said she didn’t have the dating game down at all either so she could talk to her anytime. “But you’re an alien, sis, so you get a free pass.”

One night, they were at this pub and she could tell she was a little drunk, but then again, so was Allyson, and it was the end of midterms and they deserved to celebrate. A guy was hitting on Allyson pretty hard on the dance floor, trying to grab her waist so Alex acted on pure instinct. She swooped in between the two, turned to Ally and shouted close, really close, to her ear, “Just follow my lead, okay?” her friend nodded and she looked back to the guy, “She’s with me! Get lost!” Allyson got the hint and put her arms on Alex waist, swaying their hips together with the music. The guy looked shocked and almost ran away from the dance floor.

“Ha!! That was awesome!” Allyson shouted as she threw her arms around Alex’s neck and held her close, “We’re sooooo doing that now every time an annoying guy comes our way!” and then she pressed her whole body to Alex’s, she could smell Allyson’s perfume mixed with the scent of tequila they were drinking before and when they parted she could see the most beautiful smile on her friend’s face and they were, again, so close. If she moved about five inches their lips would touch. It would be no effort at all, she thought.

But just as quickly as she was on Alex she was off her and dancing towards the bar to get them another round of beers.

(When she’s asleep that night she dreams of kissing Allyson and when she wakes up with her sheets drenched in sweat her friend asks if she’s okay so she comes up with a story about a recurring nightmare she’s had since she was a kid, but she can’t look her in the eye for a week after that.)

iii -

Brooke is the first openly gay woman she meets.

Quantico is fucking hard and there’s barely time to make friends, and she keeps telling herself she’s not there to make friends, but Brooke is her roommate and she likes to talk so they end up getting to know each other pretty good. Alex tells her about her ex boyfriend and how he cheated on her, Brooke tells her about her last girlfriend and how she’s still in love with her but the FBI has been her dream since forever so this is the time to prioritize and hope to God that after all this training her girl still wants her.

Alex doesn’t say it, but she’s jealous after that first night. She doesn’t have someone waiting for her, at the very least she has Kara, she’s the one for whom she’s doing this whole thing in the first place, but that’s very different for the kind of waiting she wants. And that’s why she doesn’t like those romcoms Kara keeps insisting they should watch on sisters night. She doesn’t want to be reminded of what she never had.

One night, after a particularly gruesome training session, Brooke brings out the booze and that’s the first time Alex drinks whiskey. It burns in her throat but the after taste is worth it and she decides she likes it. They’ve had a few glasses when Brooke tells her she got an email from her girl saying she’s dating this guy now, how she thinks she’s in love with him and how she didn’t want to hurt Brooke so she thought it was better to come clean with her now rather than later, when she’s out of training.

The look on her roommate’s face is devastating, she’s close to tears and Alex doesn’t know what she should do so takes a page out of Kara’s book and hugs her, “Oh man, I’m so sorry, Brooke… For what it’s worth, the loss is all on her.” when her friend just keeps crying she continues, “Guys aren’t even all that great, believe me.”

That’s what it takes to make her laugh and Alex feels her chest expand with pride, see, she can be a good friend, she can maintain a healthy friendship with another human being that’s not her sister (and even then that’s debatable since her sister is, in fact, not a human being).

“It’s a crime that you’re straight, Alex.” It’s supposed to come out as a joke but the air gets thick in the room as soon as the words are out and Brooke gets up from the place where Alex was holding her with this horrified expression on her face that Alex isn’t even sure what’s it supposed to be about. “Oh my God, Alex, please, it was a joke. I was joking, I swear! I drink and stupid comes out, I’m so sorry.”

Alex always liked to think she had a pretty good poker face, she knows for a fact that she works well under pressure and, see, she’s been getting trained on how to lie on the spot for a living so she puts all the things she learned to good use. She laughs and waves a hand towards Brooke, beckoning her back to the bed where they’re seated, “I’d be the worst lesbian ever. I suck so much at being straight, can you imagine what I would be like? Just terrible.”

“Oh God, Alex-”

She pulls Brooke to her side when she doesn’t come willingly, “We’re fine, relax...”

She lays her head on Alex’s shoulder and hugs her arm close. They stay that way for a little while, just being together. “You’re an amazing friend, Alex. Seriously. Sorry about that.”

Alex kisses her head and say everything’s fine and she will be fine eventually and she’ll make some lucky girl out there very happy someday. Brooke lifts her head and looks into Alex’s eyes, they’re shining with unshed tears and for a second Brooke’s eyes flicker down to Alex’s lips.

As soon as they lowered they came back up and she’s lifting herself from the bed and going to her vanity on the other side of the room claiming she still has some things to do for tomorrow and Alex gets up and goes to the shower.

As she showers she tells herself she was being a good friend. Consoling her broken heart, that’s what friends do. Friends. Her comments about Alex was a joke and they were friends. They hugged and talked as friends. Nothing more, nothing less.

(She goes home that weekend and she tells a squealing Kara about this really cute guy that she wasn’t sure, but she thinks he was hitting on her and when she describes him to her sister she could tell he looked a lot like a male version of Brooke in her head.)

iiii -

Life sucked.

It was the anniversary of her father’s death, her mother had a convention she couldn’t get out off in New York and Kara was on a plane to Paris to meet Cat for God knows what reason and she was alone.

The worst day of the year and her family was scattered around the world and in that moment she’s never felt so lost. Adrift. Floating.

She left the house otherwise she’d end up crying again and she was tired of crying today. So she went to the bar with the good, expansive booze, a good place for her to wallow on her sadness without disturbing anyone. Yeah. Awesome idea.

Alex orders shots. Three to be exact. Tequila. The devil’s drink. That’s how pathetic she’s feeling tonight, she’ll be doing shots of tequila alone. God, her life is a mess.

The bartender, a woman that looks like she’s her age and, wow, she’s really pretty you know, for a woman. Is she already drunk? The bartender looked at her funny, probably because she practically inhaled the shots she was given. She asks for another shot, but the woman doesn’t look like she’s all that willing to help her drown her sorrows.

“How about something lighter? A beer?”

Alex snorts, “Please, I came here because of the good booze. C’mon, at least one more and then a beer.” The woman stares at her like she’s unwavering in her aid to make her not so drunk but today is not the day for games. She’s not in the mood for this, “I’m paying and I’m okay. Please, just serve me another shot.”

The bartender shakes her head but serves her nonetheless, “I’ll only give you another shot after this one if you either eat something or give it a rest for about half an hour.”

Alex nods but she sees the woman left a beer next to her and that’s good enough for now.

She stays the whole night. It’s almost 02:30 when the woman tells her they’re closing. She spent the whole night watching over Alex, seeing if she was okay. She listened when Alex told her about her dad. Alex almost could see the pity in her eyes, but she wasn’t really in any state to complain about pity looks. She was the drunk at the bar that refuses to leave even when they’re closing. Really, she was so pathetic. She just wanted to forget this day ever happened.

“Let’s go, Alex… I got a cab waiting for you outside.” The bartender, Lyla was her name, went around the counter to help her up and out to the cab, she got an arm around Alex’s waist and suddenly all she could see was Lyla’s face. Fuck, she was really pretty. Her hair looked soft. Could hair be soft? It sure looked like it.

(She was so drunk, that’s what she told herself when she was inside the cab thinking about how Lyla’s hair really was soft when it brushed against her shoulder and how her hand was firm on her waist and how good it was to have someone to help you carry the weight.)

iiiii -

She hated airports, but today she was making an exception.

She didn’t bring flowers. That was so cliché. She didn’t want to be a cliché, even if sometimes they were fun and sweet, today was not a day for that. She also couldn’t stand still she was so nervous. She shouldn’t be nervous, there was no reason for nervous. She just wanted her here already.

Maggie’s cousin got married three days ago in Nebraska and, apparently, the Sawyer family had all sorts of celebrations when it came to tying the knot, because Maggie was there for a week. She got a leave from work, she really liked this cousin, she said she couldn’t miss her wedding.

She invited Alex to come along, but she knew things with Maggie’s family was not easy, the stress of a wedding was enough to make people go crazy and she didn’t want to meet them (the good part of them, the part that mattered and had helped her girlfriend when she needed the most) with the possibility of things going sour. She wanted them to like her. She wanted to make a good impression. She wanted them to call Maggie after they’d left to tell her how amazing her girlfriend was and how they approved of the whole thing.

So Maggie went alone to Nebraska to stay there a whole full week while Alex stayed in National City. It was actually kind of good because she was in debt with Kara and some sisters nights were in order to make Supergirl not want to kill Maggie for taking all of her sister’s time. Of course Kara was happy for her, but they needed their own time without other parties involved. She knew that. She missed spending the night at her sister’s place after binge-watching whatever was new on Netflix, too.

But now her girlfriend was coming back and the board told her the plane was not delayed so she should be seeing the dimpled smile she loved so much any minute now.

“Danvers!”

People should not look good after coming out of a plane. It wasn’t normal. But shit, her girlfriend looked beautiful. Her smile light up Alex’s heart in ways it had never been lit and she couldn’t believe how much she’s missed her.

Maggie was trying to make her suitcase go in the direction she wanted it to go so she missed when Alex almost kicked it away while trying to get to her. “You’re back!”

She was about to reply but Alex’s hand were already on her face bringing her lips down on Maggie’s and she tasted sweet, and fruity, like she was having a cocktail while waiting on her. It was supposed to be a chaste kiss, a welcome home, but Maggie parted her lips and Alex waited no time to dive into the kiss with all she had, tongue and lips and teeth.

They heard a throat clearing around them but Alex would be damned if she’d let anyone ruin this sweet, sweet moment; but she did tone it down, let it cool while she was still kissing the hell out of her girlfriend because she wanted to, because she could.

“Wow, and I was gonna ask if you’d missed me.” Maggie joked as they held each other in the middle of the arrival’s lounge, nothing more important than this.

“I love you.” It wasn’t the first time they’d said it, but it was special. It always was with them.

“I love you too, babe.” And when she looked in Alex’s eyes she could see it, she was home.

[joinmeinmylonelymuses]

Entry 1

“ my alarm blared up early in the morning, annoying the daylights out of me, but I knew I had to get up and start my day, other wise I’ll just end up in my bed the whole day, not that I mind but surely, my list of things to do, will. Groggily I got out of bed and made my usual path down the hall to the stairs and off to the kitchen to get my daily fix of coffee. Since I still had time to spare, I took my coffee and sat outside my balcony

as bird chirped outside, the sun rays blinding my sight, I was on my phone, social media something we, teenagers use to get the latest gossip or to stalk our crush because that’s the closest we could possible get, period. As I continued to scroll, I came across numerous images of tumblr looking girls, with pretty faces, pretty hair and a having a real swell time either with their friends or family.

the longer I stare or look or browse, fuck the more insecure I got. I’m not one who uses makeup, I have a laid back style but dress up whenever I feel like it. I’m not girly, heck I don’t even have an attributes of one ( sometimes ). Although I have a laid back style, I dress up with clothes that look good on me and suits my style. This isn’t the first time that I felt as if I wasn’t good enough, to be honest, I have lost count.

 erasing those thoughts, I went back inside the kitchen and sat on my kitchen’s island stool, my hands still wrapped around my hot coffee mug while my eyes were staring at my somehow really maintained backward, I am once again drown in my own thoughts. I didn’t forget that I had to get ready but it wouldn’t take much time as it basically only consist of me hopping into the showers, pick an outfit and do my hair. I do care about my appearance, but never to an extend that maybe I should put more effort into my face, and maybe just try to look more presentable and awake. Girls at my age pretty much know the basics of makeup, it’s ironic to me because I enjoyed watching people do makeup or makeup tutorials, but getting hands-on-deck with the actual stuff, I am hella clueless or extremely cautious if I was doing the right thing cause holy fuck I don’t want to look stupid or having to contour the wrong side of face.

 as much as I don’t want to think about it I can’t push them aside, it’s been days and I had no fucking clue how to make myself feel at least a little better about myself. Months ago I couldn’t careless if I had not used makeup but now I subconsciously do and quite frankly it’s been bothering me ever since. months back I didn’t care if I had a flawless matte face. That was until I felt as if I was coming off my age that I should be exposed to stuffs like these. I constantly compare myself to the girls I have on my timeline, they had the face, the hair, the clothes, the butt , the rack, etc etc. Then I realized how I barely had any of that, granted I didn’t try to look like that, but maybe they didn’t either, maybe they had god given genes from their parents that made them effortlessly beautiful, I’m not saying I wasn’t bless with great genes because I was but I was also envious of what other people had, given on a silver platter while I had to wreck my head and work for what I want.

 at this point, there’s no need for me to shake off these thoughts anymore, I’m already insecure and vulnerable enough. I do receive compliments, and there are also times where I doubt these compliments, I wasn’t sure if they meant what they say or they’re just saying just for the sake of it. Everyday I belittle myself to a certain point instead of being hurt emotionally, I feel the pain physically. 

I would just sit on my bed and stare at the ceiling and wonder why am I not just like other girls? I know each and everyone of us is unique our own way but I was still a girl, and a girl is still suppose to know the basics of makeup. It’s safe to say I am a disgrace to the makeup industry. A thousand, millions of thoughts started running in my head per second. It was so overwhelming I didn’t even realize I was crying till I felt the tear in my ear. My thoughts clouded my sanity and my ability to think straight. I was so consumed by the idea I wasn’t good enough that I hadn’t known I dug a hole too deep that I couldn’t get myself out from.

I was so sure I was going crazy for thinking like that, but I finally found out to why I was feeling like that, the whole reason why I felt like utter shit about myself even though I was okay with myself before. I had come to a conclusion all I needed was assurance. I needed someone to assure me that I was already beautiful or that I didn’t need makeup to be beautiful. I needed someone to show they didn’t care about my appearance or how I dressed. Accepting for who I am is assurance but I needed to be assured not just physically but also verbally. In a sense, it acts as a security blanket to me. With everything that’s been said, I am able to use all that and surround myself with it.

 throwing compliments isn’t assuring as you may have pictured it to be, sure it gives you the boost of confidence but compliments are simply just compliments. Assurance was more of something that’s completely sincere, heart felt and from the bottom of your heart. These type of assurances aren’t often heard, it often happens when you’re at your lowest and there’s someone ready to tell you everything nice about you, and it isn’t suppose to be sugar coated one bit.

 it took me so long to figure it out, but still I’m at a vulnerable and insecure position because, you guessed it, I didn’t have that “someone”. Looking at my, now cold cup of coffee, I couldn’t help but feel sad for myself because no one would understand what I was feeling, I am a girl, a girl who needed assurance,many would think I’m just a desperate bitch who was fishing for compliments but I wasn’t, I am honestly was just looking for assurance.

dazed and still out of it, I threw away my coffee in the sink went back up to my room and got ready. I looked at myself one last time in the mirror, trying my best not to go back to those horrible thoughts and just try to get through the day as if nothing was wrong but deep down I was at my lowest of the lowest and there’s nothing I could do about it unless I could find a boost of arrogance which wasn’t something I am accustomed to. Sighing, I grabbed my bag off the hook next to my bedroom door and made my way towards and out the front door, not ready to begin my day one bit. “

Lonely Muses out x