#but that's only because Jeremy already voices another boy with black hair and a green streak

[thatonethimbo]

deep-voiced younger morro unsettles me

title

anyway, ramble in the tags, lol, i went off topic a bit and then went back on topic

[spacesuitsforemergency]

I Hate Myself for Loving You

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: You and Roy Harper hated each other, ever since you met. Who knew a dog and an 8 year old would make you realize your true feelings for him.

Pairing: Roy Harper x Barton! Reader

A/N: Scott and Clint’s friendship inspired by Paul Rudd and Jeremy Renners friendship. I’m really happy and proud of how this came out.

“I really don’t see the point in training with them again.” You mumble as your dad practically drags you down a hallway.

“It’s good exposure to others’ styles!” Your dad, the one and only Clint Barton, A.K.A the mighty Avenger Hawkeye, insists. “Besides, Oliver’s a great archer, and Roy and Artemis have different styles than you.”

“Roy and Artemis have sticks up their asses.” You roll your eyes.

“Be nice.” He scolds as you finally reach a large, metal door. “Use your manners, don’t kill anyone. And ask before you take any food.”

“Dad, that rules more directed at you.” You poke his chest.

“Nope, remember when we got invited to Wakanda last weekend?” He reminded.

“They really should put up a sign that says ‘reserved for royalty’.” You shrugged.

You tap your foot impatiently while your dad puts in the code, and it flashes red. He grins nervously at you and tries it again, punching the dial pad when it’s wrong again.

“Having technical difficulties, are we?” You tease him.

“No!” He pouts. “Ollie must’ve given me the wrong code. Let me call him, this will all be resolved.”

You lean against the wall and yawn as your dad talks to Oliver on the phone, then punches in another code. This time it lights up green, and you’re let in.

You follow your dad inside, peering around. You hadn’t been to this facility before, they had come to yours before now. It was a cave of some sorts, but definitely technologically advanced. You see a few heroes your age you recognized from the news, all still in their costumes. Your eyes land on Roy Harper, the most infuriating man on the face of the planet.

“Oh great. You again?” He sneers down at you.

You glare at him and start to charge at him, but your dad ruins your fun and grabs you. You try to pry him off and kick him, but he doesn’t budge. Roy gives you a smug grin that you wished you could wipe off of his stupid face, and you notice the other two archers next to him.

“Sorry about her.” Your dad laughs awkwardly. “She’s a little...aggressive today.”

“I am not aggressive!” You finally kick him in the shin and he drops you, clutching it in pain.

“You are so grounded for that!” Your dad snaps.

“Clint, nice to see you made it past the door.” Oliver chuckled. “And Y/N, please excuse Roy’s comment. He also has some...behavioral issues.” Oliver narrows his eyes at the boy.

“I was just saying.” He shrugs.

“Can we get on with this, please?” Artemis crossed her arms in annoyance from behind Oliver.

“Yes, we should. Follow us.” Oliver says.

Your dad and Oliver strike up conversation and start nerding out over...whatever. You didn’t pay attention, your focus fixated on Roy.

He was strutting ahead of you, head held high and that stupid smirk on his face. You rolled your eyes, glaring daggers at the back of his head.

“So what have you been up to?” Artemis asked you.

“Nothing much. I kicked Falcons ass last Friday though. That was fun.” You shrug.

“No way.” She shook her head in disbelief.

“Um, yes way.” You playfully nudge her. “I’ve got in on video, I’ll show you after this torture session.”

“Are you two hens done clucking yet?” Roy asks, stopping at another room.

“Are you done being an asshat?” Artemis sassed back.

“Let’s watch the language, please?” Oliver sighs.

“What? I said hat.” She deadpans.

“Hawkeye and I will demonstrate, then how about we have a little competition?”

“Yeah, whichever one of you gets the most targets gets to...not run 50 laps!” Hawkeye announces.

“Well that’s stupid.” You scoff. “Don’t you know my stamina is not quite up to par lately?”

“Well maybe it would be if you woke up for training on time. Steve has been trying to tell you-“

“If the sun isn’t up, I’m not up.” You cross your arms.

“Oh, so you’re lazy as well as annoying?” Roy raised an eyebrow at you.

“I’m gonna-“ You lunge at him, but he ducks out of the way and you fall on your face.

“Ooh.” Everyone that saw that graceful move winced.

“Wow. So you’re lazy AND bad at aiming.” Roy tsked. “I don’t know if you understand the concept of an archer, but those are some essential attributes-WOAH!” He shrieks when you grab his ankle and tug him down. “Ouch!”

“That’s what you get for mouthing off again.” Oliver shakes his head as your dad pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Get up, losers. I’m ready to beat both of your asses.” Artemis hauls both of you up.

You and Roy glare at each other during the entire demonstration, not paying attention when the pro archers announce the rules and guidelines. You both race each other into the training room, and he growls when you beat him inside.

You bolt after each other as you jump through the course, shoving the other out of the way as you try to hit the target first. He laughs loudly when you miss the first one, then yelps when you shoot an arrow at him, grazing his hair.

“Hey, watch it! I just got it cut!” He whines as you shoot the target.

“Your precious hair is fine, I barely got it.” You rush ahead of him as he loads his bow, aiming for the target in front of you.

You quickly shot an arrow as his nearly hits the target, knocking it out of the way and hitting a bullseye. You turn to give him a cocky grin, yelling when he kicks you out from under your feet. He runs past you, but not before you grab his calf and bring him down with you once again.

“Idiots.” Artemis rolls her eyes as she stomps past the both of you, now wrestling each other on the floor.

You both watch with hopelessness as she hits the very last target, perfectly shooting the center. You groan and flop back down on the floor, dreading the laps you’d have to run. What was even worse, was that you had to run them with Roy. Stupid, arrogant, idiotic Roy Harper.

You had known the guy for exactly 3 weeks now, and you already hated him. You hated how he thought he was better than you. You hated how he smirked at you all smugly. You hated how he was actually really hot. He was buff and surprisingly a good shot. You will never say that though, his ego was clearly way too high for someone his height.

“Artemis, go treat yourself to some down time. You two ding dongs, get running!” Oliver shouts over to the two of you, still sprawled out on the ground.

Roy sighs as he gets up, and offers you a hand. You slap it away and get up yourself, and he raises his hands in surrender. You both get started on your laps, and on your 32nd one you’re about ready to pass out. You groan as you hold your head, feeling dizzy and faint.

“Can’t handle some light running?” Roy comes up behind you, grinning at first before he notices you’re sweating and your pupils are dilated. “Hey, are you okay?”

You respond by blacking out, and he quickly catches you in his arms. You drift in and out of consciousness as he yells for help, your dad and Dick Grayson rushing over to you. Your dad says something, but it’s echoey and indecipherable to you. Roy holds a water bottle to your mouth, helping you drink a few sips.

“...yo. Y/N, wake up.” Your dad lightly smacks your face. You blink a few times, slowly sitting up with Roy and Dicks help.

“That is the dumbest way to wake someone up.” You groan.

“You good?” He asked. “You didn’t drink enough water today, did you?”

“I had...some.” You mumble.

“Y/N!” He scolded.

“I got distracted!” You defend yourself. “It’s not my fault Lucky kept barking at me to take him for a walk!”

“You need to rehydrate yourself.” Dick says. “Your done with laps for the day.”

“Yes!” You grin as your dad helps you stand up. “Maybe I should be dehydrated more often.”

“No!” They all yell at you.

“Alright, Alright.” You mumble, trying to blink black spots out of your vision.

“I think we’re gonna head home.” Clint tells the others. “Thanks for helping her, Roy.”

“Sure.” He acted like it was nothing, but the voice in the back of his mind was telling him to worry and panic.

Roy watches as your dad leads you out of the cave, and he plops down onto the couch. He stared blankly at the tv, which was playing some horror movie Wally and Dick had put on.

He totally wasn’t worried about you at all! And he definitely didn’t freak out when he saw your eyes roll back in your head. His heart obviously didn’t drop when you passed out into his arms. He wasn’t concerned about your well being in the slightest. He hated you! You were annoying and you thought you were the better archer just because your dad was a famous Avenger.

“Dude, you good?”

“What?” His attention snapped back to reality, seeing Dick and Wally staring at him, Artemis, Megan and Kaldur snooping from the kitchen.

“Bro, what is wrong with you?” Wally laughed at him.

“Nothing!” Roy glared at his fellow red head.

“Your face is red, you’re sweating, and you’re bouncing your leg.” Dick blinked at him.

“He’s got the L word!” Wally sang, zipping over to Roy and slinging an arm around his shoulder.

“I don’t have time for this.” Artemis shook her head and left, Megan and Kaldur walking over.

“The L word?” Megan asked.

“Shut up, Wallace!” Roy hissed before he could even open his mouth.

“Dude, you’re crushing on Barton?” Dick snickered.

“Isn’t he a little old for you?” Megan asked.

“The other Barton.” Kaldur whispered to her.

“Ohhhh!” She said. “You guys didn’t know that?”

“You knew?” Wally asked.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Dick asked.

“I do not have a crush on Y/N!” Roy stood up defensively. “You guys are stupid!”

“Roy and Y/N, sittin’ in a tree.” Wally sang, much to Roy’s annoyance.

“K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” Dick joined in, Kaldur chuckling and Megan just wondering what they were doing.

Roy rolled his eyes and stormed off, trying to block out their idiotic singing. He would deal with those punks later, but right now he had a lot of thinking to do.

•

“Wait, they’re coming here?” You trail behind your dad as he goes to the kitchen. “I thought only Uncle Scott and Cassie were gonna be here tonight!”

“Yes, for the football game, dear.” He sighs, patting your head teasingly. “I told you this last week. Now clean up the dog toys.”

“I get why Oliver’s coming, but why does Roy have to?” You complain, ignoring your dads order. “Can’t he watch it by himself? I would say with his friends but it’s hard to imagine he has any.”

“Y/N, he’s coming. And he’ll be here in 20 minutes, so pick up the damn toys.” He says, sternly this time.

You roll your eyes at him but oblige, picking up Lucky’s toys that he leaves everywhere. Once your done you rush to your room, making sure you look presentable.

Wait, why did you care? You hated Roy. He was an arrogant asshole, and a total dick. You hated how slick and charming he was, you hated his stupid smile and wanted to smack it off his face. His smile was dashing and gorgeous, but it made you furious. No, you didn’t really hate him. You hated how he made you feel. Vulnerable and...ew, giddy. You weren’t into all that lovey-dovey shit, no matter how many romcoms and chick flicks your father forced you to watch with him.

Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear the doorbell ring, and you hear Cassie happily saying hi to Uncle Clint. You check your appearance one more time, before walking out.

“Y/N!” Cassie runs towards you and hugs your legs. “We brought chips and salsa!”

“You did?” You smile as you kneel down to hug her properly.

“Well, half a bag of chips and what’s left of Hope’s salsa.” Uncle Scott shrugs, holding said bag out of Lucky’s reach as he jumps up. “So I hear we’re meeting some fellow archers?”

“Yup, my friend Oliver and his old protege.” Your dad nods as he tosses Scott a can of beer, and tugs Lucky off of him. “And Y/N’s arch nemesis.”

“What’s an arch nemesis?” Cassie asked, her innocent eyes peering up at you.

“Nothing, Cass.” You ruffle her hair, and she just shrugs and wanders over to your dad. “Uncle Clint, do you have any paper? Daddy forgot it.”

“Of course we do, come on.” Your dad leads her to the laundry room, which is in the back of the kitchen.

You notice your Uncle Scott grinning at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. That was never a good sign.

“What?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Nothing.” He takes a sip of beer.

“Scott...” you warn.

“You don’t actually hate this guy, do you?” He asks.

“No, I do.” You shake your head. “He’s inferior in every sense of the word.”

“Mmmmhmmmm.” He pursed his lips, that evil glint never leaving his eyes.

“Uncle Scott!”

“Fine! Okay, I’ll drop it.” He chuckled in amusement.

It’s silent for a few moments.

“Is he cute?”

“Scott!”

Then the doorbell rings, and dread washes over you. You suddenly get a little anxious, now nervous about how the night was gonna go. Your Uncle Scott goes to the living room and turns on the tv, peaking over the edge of the couch as you open the door.

“Wassup, man?” Your dad shouts from the kitchen.

“Wassup, dude?” Oliver walks past you, Roy awkwardly following behind.

You shut the door and begin the usual glaring match with Roy, but quickly drop it when your dad carries pizza boxes to the living room, Oliver behind him with soda, beer and chips. Lucky runs over when he smells new people, immediately jumping up on Roy in excitement. Roy lets the dog sniff his hands, but jumps back when he barks at him.

“Ha! Even the dog doesn’t like you!” You laugh at him.

“Oh, haha, very funny.” He says sarcastically as he nudges Lucky away from him with his foot.

“Lucky, come on, boy.” You giggle, taking pity on Roy and pulling your dog away from him, then pat his head. “Good boy, protect us from the scary man.”

“Wow, you’re just so funny tonight.” Roy says dryly, despite the grin on his face. He goes to join the guys on the couch, while you lead Cassie and Lucky to the dining room.

Your dining room is connected to the kitchen and entryway, giving you a view of the back of the couch and the tv. You listen to Cassie as she draws and tells you about her dads latest adventure. Your eyes keep drifting to Roy, even though you can only see the back of his head, and part of his face when he occasionally turns to talk.

“Who’s he?” Cassie whispers to you, even though they would never hear anything you said over their cheering, complaining and hollering.

“That’s Roy.” You tell her. “I work with him sometimes.”

“Is he your partner?” She asks. “Like Daddy and Hope?”

“Kind of, Yeah.” You nod. “Well, actually, exactly.”

“So is he your boyfriend?” She asks innocently, and you nearly choke on your soda.

“Um, I guess not exactly. No, he’s not my boyfriend.” You shake your head, clearing your throat of soda.

“Really? But you looked at him like Hope looks at my daddy.” She says.

“What? When?” You ask. You feel sort of ridiculous, defending yourself against an 8 year old, who barely understood the concept of love in the first place.

“At the door. When Lucky attacked him.” She giggled, reaching down to pet the dog, who’s laying under her chair and staring up at you to beg for food. “Hope looks at daddy like that all the time.”

“Does she, now?” You raise an eyebrow, tossing Lucky the rest of your pizza crust.

“Yup.” She nodded, turning back to her drawing.

You look back over to the guys, smiling in amusement when your dad and Oliver cheer, Roy and Uncle Scott groaning. Roy stands up, grabbing empty pizza boxes and soda cans. You quickly turn back to Cassie as he makes his way over, pretending to have been listening to her the whole time. Lucky growled as he got closer, but you ordered the dog to ‘stay’, and thankfully he did. You didn’t need to deal with your dog biting Roy or anything.

Roy tried not to look at you as he passes, he has to remain inconspicuous. He steals a few glances while he stuffs the pizza boxes into the trash, smiling softly as you laugh at one of Cassie’s stories. He’s surprised you’re so good with kids, since all he knows is your guys’ little rivalry attitudes. It’s actually really cute, your kind and gentle smile makes his heart skip a beat.

You look over at him when you realize he’s been standing there for a few more seconds than he needed to, making eye contact with him. It takes a moment for him to realize he had been caught, clearing his throat and quickly rushing back to the couch, keeping an eye on the growling retriever. You turn back to Cassie and you both giggle. Even the little 8 year old understood what just happened.

“What’s so funny, back there?” Scott turns around to see his daughter and non-biological niece grinning at the back of Roy’s head.

“Nothing.” You both sing, and you turn to signal Cassie to be quiet. You both giggle again when Scott stares at the two of you in confusion.

After the game is over you say goodbye to Cassie and Uncle Scott, then start to clean up. Your dad and Oliver are still chatting away, so it was looking like Roy would also be staying for awhile, since Ollie was his ride.

“Need help?” He asked after he got bored of listening to the two men talk about physics and shit.

“Uh, I guess.” You shrug as you pick up the drawings Cassie made, then gather all the blank paper. “Just grab the trash from the living room, I’ve got this covered.”

“Cool.” He nodded, before doing as you told.

You both clean everything up quickly, then it’s awkward silence again as your mentors blab on and on about arrows, coffee and hero business. Lucky is on the couch, watching the both of you over the back of it. It’s actually quite funny, his eyes fixed on Roy, which made him uncomfortable that a dog was giving him a death glare.

“We have a dart board and pool table in the basement.” You suggest after awhile. “Little competition?”

“Anything’s better than listening to the two grandpas over there talk about taxes.” He agrees.

“Hey! We are very interesting people!” Oliver snaps playfully.

“No killing each other! I’m not driving anyone to the hospital if you decide you throw a dart at the others face!” Your dad shouts as you lead Roy to the basement door.

“I promise!” You call over your shoulder as Lucky barrels over, running downstairs before you can grab him.

“Oh great.” Roy mumbles as you shut the door and take the lead. “Is your dog gonna jump me as soon as I get down there?”

“Lucky’s harmless, you big baby.” You tease, flicking the light on and seeing Lucky had claimed his spot on the couch.

Your basement was pretty big, you and your dad had turned it into, essentially, a man cave. You had a bigger tv down here, and a smaller couch. On the other side of the room there was a pool table and a display rack, where you kept bows and arrows that were either your dads old ones or collectibles. On the other side of the room there was a stereo system that lined the wall, which sat on top of shelves of CDs, vinyls, and mixtapes. The carpet was a hideous red, which your dad insisted looked good. Yeah, maybe in the olden days, pops. Lastly, across from the pool table was a dart board mounted to the wall, Robin Hood: Men in Tights posters on either side (which Scott has gotten as a joke).

“Dang, cool place.” Roy said as he looked around the large room.

“Thanks. It’s mostly my dads stuff from the 80s.” You say. “Y’know how adults are about that stuff.”

“Oh yeah.” He nods.

“Now, ready to get your ass beat?” You grin, picking up the box of darts.

You play 3 games of darts, to which he won and made fun of you over. You had started up the stereo, playing your dads 80s rock mixtape to fill the moments of silence. Then you began to play pool, making quips and laughing if the other missed.

You watched as he lined up his cue, lips pursing and eyes narrowing in concentration. You watch his muscles flex as he prepares, catching yourself totally checking him out. You blush to yourself, thankful he was too focused on beating you to notice.

“Yeah, good luck winning now.” He says cockily as he straightens back up, smirking down at you smugly.

“Thanks.” You flick his nose, before lining your cue up.

You carefully calculate how this will end, grinning when you find the perfect angle. You cheer in victory as you pot the 8 ball, winning the game. He throws down the cue, as you gloat to him. You drop the cue as if dropping a mic, singing that you won in his face.

“Alright, I get it.” He pouts, despite the amused smile making its way to his face.

“So who has the better aim? Who’s better than you? That’s right. Me.” You boast, playfully shoving his chest as Joan Jett starts singing from the stereo speakers.

“You know, you should learn when to shut up.” He growls under his breath.

“Excuse me?” You raise an eyebrow.

Your eyes widen when he pulls you forward, crashing his lips into yours. You stiffen at first, completely stunned. You quickly get over it though, grabbing the sides of his face to bring him farther down to you.

He backs you up, then taps the back of your thigh to silently signal you to jump. You hop up onto the pool table, making it so he doesn’t have to lean down so far to kiss you. One of his hands is tangled in your hair, the other squeezing your thigh as you wrap your legs around his waist. Your hands move from his face down his torso, your hands sliding up his shirt and pressing against his abs. You part your lips to deepen the kiss, both of your tongues fighting for dominance. You feel him smirk into the kiss when he wins, but you don’t feel the need to particularly care in the moment.

Suddenly he jerks back, and at first you think he changed his mind or you did something wrong. Then you see Lucky, who had woken up from his nap and seen what looked to him like Roy attacking you. He tugged at the hem of Roy’s jeans, effectively knocking him to the ground. You doubled over in laughter as your dog climbed on top of Roy, nipping at his arm, which he had held up to block his face.

“Are you just going to sit there or are you going to call off the hound?” He asks desperately, trying to push the large golden retriever off of him.

“Lucky! Lucky, down boy.” You wheeze from laughter, gesturing for the dog to come to you as you jump down from the pool table.

You continue to die of laughter as Lucky happily bounces over to you, Roy slowly getting up and brushing himself off. You pet your dog, laughing so hard you snort when Lucky growls at Roy.

“What is going on down there?” You hear Oliver shout down the steps.

“I told you no murdering each other!” Your dad reminds.

“I don’t think Lucky likes Roy!” You call up, trying to hold back your laughter, since your sides were starting to ache by now.

“Lucky! Come here, boy!” Your dad calls in his ‘puppy voice’. Lucky bolts up the stairs, probably hoping that meant more leftover pizza crusts.

“Roy! It’s time to go!” Oliver yells.

“I’ll be up in a minute!” Roy shouts to him, then turns to you.

“Are you okay?” You giggle at him.

“Fine.” He mumbles, making his way towards the stairs. “Uh, I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah.” You nod, watching him head up the stairs. Then you rush after him and grab his hand. He turns back around and you tug him down by the collar of his shirt into another kiss. He wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you so that your body was pressed against his.

“Roy!”

“I’m coming!” He breaks the kiss, yelling at his mentor, annoyance evident in his voice. He turns back to you, voice and expression softening. “How about I pick you up tomorrow? No interruptions.”

“Sounds great.” You smile up at him.

He gives you one last kiss, before going upstairs. You grin and giggle to yourself in happiness as soon as the door closes, then fall onto the couch. You grab your phone out of your pocket, excited to tell your Uncle Scott about the amazing night you just had, and the date confirmed for tomorrow.

[neerasrealm]

Trick and Treating

In which Laughing Jack finds a boy crying while taking his daughters trick or treating. He decides to try and cheer the kid up and make his Halloween a little better. wdym its november 3rd halloween lasts two months because i said so

Word Count: 2869

"C'mon pops!" 

"Awrigh', awrigh'! Slow down!"

"C'mon Slendra! This next neighborhood is always really good!" 

The two girls, Slendra and Sally, a pair of sisters, ran as quick as they could around the block. Though it was dark out, the night was full of life and laughter. Kids, younger and older than them, made their way from house to house, picking up candy from strangers. Everyone around them was dressed in a costume of some kind. Super heroes, spiders, skeletons, you name it. Of course, the girls were dressed in costumes too. Slendra, the taller but younger of the two, was dressed as a witch. She wore a long black dress with a purple band tied around her waist, fastened with a silver buckle. Her hat was much the same, and it sat atop her head of blonde hair. Sally, on the other hand, was dressed as her favorite cartoon character. The skintaker. Her face was covered in makeup to make her look like a skeleton, and she wore a long robe that was quilted together with different coloured patches. She had a hat that was the same pattern as her robe. Both of them had been handmade by her other dad, and she adored it. 

‘’C’mere ye li’le rascal!’’

‘’EEK-!’’ Slendra was grabbed by the back of her dress and yanked back into big, soft arms that hugged her tight. She shrieked and giggled, thrashing in the hug. ‘’Pops! Lemme go!’’

Of course, the girls weren’t alone on Halloween. No, they had their pops with them. Laughing Jack. Looking at him, you’d assume he’d managed to find the coolest scary clown costume one could hope for, with sharp bony hands, wispy black hair, jagged teeth and bandages wrapped around his torso, but no. He looked like that year round. In fact, Jack hadn’t even bothered with a costume. The only thing he had added to himself tonight was a white bird mask strapped to his face. It obscured the top part of his face, which really just made him scarier. 

He laughed a bit and squeezed his daughter in his arms. ‘’Stop runnin’ off on me! If ye ge’ lost yer da will kill me.’’ he replied with a grin. Slendra giggled again and looked up to see her sister Sally. However, instead of standing in front of them waiting for Jack to release her sister, Sally was sitting on the sidewalk a little further up, talking to someone. ‘’Eh?’’ Jack withdrew his arms and stood up. He and Slendra walked over to Sally and stopped next to her.

She was sitting next to a young boy, dressed in a blue ripped jacket, a black and white striped shirt and black pants. The green face paint on his face was smudged, especially around his eyes. Sally pat his back and frowned. ‘’Hey, it’s okay.’’ she said gently. ‘’What’s wrong?’’

The boy sniffled and let out a breathy sob. ‘’I-I was chasing these b-boys that stole my ca-candy a-and now I’m l-lost-’’ he inhaled sharply before breaking into tears again. Sally frowned and hugged the boy. Jack crouched down beside him and pat his head. 

‘’Calm down kiddo…’’ he murmured. The boy looked up and stared at him in surprise. ‘’Some’ne stole yer candy?’’

The boy nodded. ‘’I was with my friends b-but they went to another neighborhood and I wasn’t allowed go with them s-so I started walking home but then these boys on bikes came by and took my bag,’’ the boy whimpered and wiped at his eyes. He seemed to be calming down significantly, thanks to Sally. ‘’I chased them but...now I’m lost.’’ he curled up, hugging his knees. Jack looked horrified that someone would do something like that, and to a small kid no less. He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a packet of tissues.

‘’Ere, kiddo,’’ he took out a tissue and gave it to the boy. He sniffled and wiped at his face. ‘’Ye’re lost?’’

‘’Mhm.’’ the boy looked around. ‘’I don’t know how to get home…’’

Jack looked from the boy to his two girls. He looked back at the boy and gave him a reassuring smile. ‘’We’ll take ye ‘ome, kiddo.’’ he said, reaching into his sleeve. He pulled out some candy and held it out to the surprised looking boy. ‘’Ere, i’s no’ a lo’, bu’ i’ should make up a bi’ fer th’ stuff ye lost.’’

The boy looked at Jack’s outstretched hand and broke into a grin. He took the candies, shyly unwrapping one of them and tossing it into his mouth. ‘’Thank you.’’ he murmured. Jack smiled and grabbed the boy, lifting him up and putting him on his shoulders. The boy blinked in surprise. 

‘’Can ye see okay up there, lad?’’ Jack asked. The boy grinned.

‘’Uh-huh!’’ he glanced around. ‘’You’re real tall, mister.’’

‘’Jus’ call me Jackie, kiddo.’’

As the four of them walked the boy talked with them more. Jack learned that his name was Jeremy, and he lived with just his mother. He hadn’t gone trick or treating last year, or the year before. He’d been sick the past couple of years, and still wasn’t fully recovered, so trick or treating was a big thing for him. Which just made it worse when you considered what had happened to him. Jack knew he had to do something about it- he wasn’t going to let this poor boy have his halloween ruined for him.

‘’There’s the place!’’

‘’Ah!’’ Jack looked up to where the boy on his shoulders was pointing. The neighborhood they were in didn’t have many decorated houses. The one Jeremy was pointing to, however, was covered in decorations and bright lights. Jack smiled a bit as he walked up the garden path after Slendra and Sally. The girls knocked on the door as Jack put Jeremy down. The door was pulled open, and they were greeted by an older lady with brown hair that was starting to grey at the roots. She wore a long black dress, a big collar around her neck, and a pair of fake fangs. In her hands she held a large, flowery bowl that was filled with candy. She smiled sweetly at the girls for a moment before surprise crossed her face. Then she broke into a wider smile.

‘’Jeremy! Oh there you are, I was starting to get worried!’’ she put the bowl down on a table inside the hall as her son stepped forward and hugged her legs. She pat his head lovingly. ‘’Did you have fun?’’

‘’Mmm…’’

She frowned and looked up, finally noticing Jack. He waved a tiny bit. ‘’Heya, I’m Jack,’’ he murmured. ‘’We found ‘im a couple a blocks away...some older kids stole ‘is bag.’’

Jeremy’s mother looked horrified. ‘’They did...?’’ she asked. Jack nodded. ‘’Oh that’s terrible-!’’ she looked down at her son. ‘’Oh pet- are you okay?’’ 

‘’I’m okay…’’ Jeremy murmured. He pointed up at Jack. ‘’Jackie brought me home, and he gave me some candy.’’ he smiled a bit. Jack tilted his head.

‘’I was wond’rin’, miss, if maybe I could take yer lad wiv us fer th’ nigh’. ‘E can ge’ sum more candy an’ stick aroun’ wiv sum kids ‘is own age.’’

‘’Oh?’’ Jeremy’s mother looked surprised for a moment. She looked down at her son, a little worried. ‘’I don’t know…’’ 

‘’Please?’’ Jeremy asked. He stared up at his mother hopefully. ‘’Jackie is real nice! And he already has kids with him so we should be okay!’’

She looked up at Jack for a moment, then sighed. ‘’...okay. But don’t take him too far away from home! And I want him back before nine.’’

Jack gave a nod. ‘’Absolu’ely.’’

After cleaning and fixing up Jeremy’s makeup, Jack, Sally and Slendra wasted no time raiding every house in the surrounding neighborhood. Jeremy quickly learned that these three took Halloween very seriously. Constantly on the move, trying to get the best candy possible, they talked about what house they’d target next like it was some kind of big important mission. It was actually exhausting, especially for him, but the girls excited energy was contagious. It didn’t take long at all for Jeremy to fill up the bag LJ had given him. Then a second one. Then a third. He walked slowly, dragging the heavy bags with him as the girls ran ahead of him and LJ. 

‘’Ey kiddo?’’ LJ asked above him. Jeremy looked up. ‘’Ye want me ta take yer bags fer ya? They look ‘eavy.’’ Jeremy stopped and nodded, giving LJ two of his bags. He took them, holding them like they weighed nothing. It was weird- Sally and Slendra both had five bags each yet they didn’t seem to struggle at all! Maybe Jeremy was just weaker than he thought- 

‘’Pops!’’ Sally called ahead of them. Jack looked up at the girl, who was pointing ahead. In the distance, they could see a large fire. She grinned. ‘’There’s a bonfire! Can we go see it?’’ 

Jack smiled a bit. ‘’Sure kiddo.’’ he replied. The girls ran forward, with Jack and Jeremy sauntering calmly after them. The bonfire was surrounded by tons of teenagers who were yelling, hollering, dancing and drinking. Jeremy stuck close to Jack’s leg. Bigger kids had always scared him, and these ones looked like they were what his mother would call ‘hooligans’. 

‘’Hey! Jack!’’ someone called from a bit further away from the bonfire. Jeremy looked up and over at where the voice came from. He saw Slendra and Sally run off away from the fire.

‘’Shoulda known…’’ Jack murmured above him. He turned and started walking off after the girls. Jeremy followed quickly, not wanting to be left alone around so many older kids. Jack stopped in front of a small group of kids. Four boys and one girl. They all looked to be in their mid to late teens, and were sitting in a circle with a bag of candy in between each of their legs. In the centre of the circle was a box filled with cans of beer. ‘’Evenin’, kids.’’ Jack greeted.

‘’Hey guys!’’ one of the boys, who had blonde hair and was dressed in a Luigi costume chirped. His eyes were a bright, shiny blue that looked almost like lights. 

‘’Hi Ben!’’ Slendra greeted, bouncing on her heels. Sally abruptly dropped her bags and looked at the group, her hands on her hips.

‘’You guys can have anything you want from these bags in exchange for your butterfingers. Except the m&ms, sour patch kids and twixes. Those are mine.’’ she said, sounding more like a bossy older sister than a ten year old girl dressed as a cartoon character. The group all rolled their eyes and began digging through their bags. 

‘’Evury year…’’ another of the boys muttered. He had ginger hair that hung over one of his eyes, and was pretty skinny. He was dressed in a Mario costume that matched the other boy’s. He also sounded like he was drunk. Or maybe it was an accent. 

The boy sitting across from Ben, the boy in the Luigi costume, took a swig from his can of beer and looked at Jeremy for a long moment. He was intimidating. His skin was pure white, probably makeup, with big scars on either side of his face. His eyes were deep and sunken, but stared straight into little Jeremy. He was wearing a vampire costume, with a big collar and everything. His scary eyes flicked up to LJ. ‘’You’re stealing kids again?’’

‘’I’m no’ stealin’ ‘im, ‘is ma wuz givin’ ‘im away wiv th’ candy!’’ Jack retorted. The boy cracked a smile and barked a laugh. He looked at Jeremy and smiled. 

‘’Nice costume kid.’’ he said. Jeremy blinked in surprise.

‘’Y-you too,’’ he murmured. ‘’Your makeup is great...you’re really scary.’’

The teen smile. ‘’Aw, thanks!’’ he grinned. ‘’I’m Jeff, by the way. Uhhh-’’ he turned to his friends. ‘’That’s Ben, that’s Bryce,’’ he gestured to the boys in the Mario and Luigi costumes. ‘’That’s Emily,’’ he pointed to the girl, who was dressed as Princess Peach, complete with blonde wig and everything. ‘’And that’s Ethan.’’ he pointed to the last boy. He wore a white hoodie, black shorts, and a backwards baseball cap. His skin was green, and looked rotten. His purple hair hung over one of his crimson eyes. He must’ve had contacts in or something.

Jack frowned. ‘’Wha’s yer costume supposeta be, Ethan?’’

‘’A dead teenager.’’

‘’...oh.’’

"It's nice to meet you all." Jeremy murmured. Jeff looked back at him and smiled. He held out his hand.

"You too kid." The two shook hands. When Jeremy pulled his hand away, he realised Jeff had managed to slip a small piece of candy into it. Oh! Wow- these older kids were...nice. 

"So wha're you's all doin'?" Jack asked as he watched Sally raid the other kid's bags for butterfingers and reese's cups. 

"Oh, the usual," Ben replied as Slendra traded him a small box of smarties for a bag of jellybeans. "A bit of trick or treating, hanging out by a bonfire, doing a little drinking…"

"A lot of drinking in Bryce's case." Ethan added as he dug through his own bag of candy. He pulled out a bag of peanuts and sighed defeatedly before reluctantly opening it.

"And after," Jeff continued with a wide smile. He reached over and grabbed a black duffel bag from beside him. "We're gonna cause a little chaos. Some tricking with our treating, if you will." He added with a wink. 

Jeremy's eyes widened. Oh- he should've expected that from them honestly, but still. Trouble-making teens were something his mother always told him to avoid. Jack pursed his lips. "You's be'er be careful. You's don't 'ave fireworks, do ya?"

"Nah, nah." Ben shook his head. "just harmless stuff. Eggs, toilet paper, spray paint-"

"We go' fiirecrrackerrrsss." Bryce slurred out. Ben shot him a glare. Jack sighed.

"Be careful, awrigh'?" He murmured. The teens all nodded. Sally turned and walked back over to her bags. She deposited the results of her trading into a couple of them and gave a satisfied 'hmph!'. Jack looked down at her. "Ye finished, girlies?"

"Yep!" Slendra and Sally both chirped. Jack chuckled a bit. The teens got to their feet, slinging their candy bags over their shoulders. Jeff picked up his duffel bag and caught Jeremy's anxious stare. He smiled and winked at the boy reassuringly.

"We'd better head out," he said. "It's getting late." Jeff gestured to Jeremy. "I think you should be heading home kid. All the teens will be hitting the streets soon too. Don't want you getting hurt or picked on."

Jeremy gave a slight nod. He still wasn't sure if this older boy was nice or a troublemaker. Slendra turned and looked at the bonfire. She smirked, then pulled her hands up. She clapped them together loudly, and with a louder 'fwoosh!' the massive bonfire suddenly extinguished itself. There was a chorus of shocked gasps and general confusion from the teens that had been enjoying the fire's warmth moments prior. Jack whirled around and stared. 

"Slendra!" He hissed, looking down at the girl. "Don't do tha'! No' 'ere!" 

Jeremy stared at the blonde girl. "How did you do that?!" He gasped. She turned to him and gave him a wide smile.

"I'm a witch." She replied with a sly wink. Jeremy's eyes widened. He thought it was just a costume! Jack sighed above him and looked around at the group.

"Nobody tell Slender abou' this." He said, pointing a boney black finger at nobody in particular. 

"We won't as long as you don't tell him we were drinking and playing with firecrackers."

"Deal." Jack replied. He reached down and picked Jeremy up, putting the boy on his shoulders again. "Now make yerselves scarce, ya 'ear me?"

The teens smiled and nodded. As they began to walk away Jeff turned back one last time and gave the four of them a wave before turning around and jogging over to catch up with the others. Jack looked down at his two girls. 

"C'mon you's two. I fink we've done good t'nigh', eh?" 

"Awwwe- but it's only eight thirty!" Sally protested. Jack shook his head.

"Sorry lass, bu' ye know we go'a ge' our friend back b'fore nine. And if ye come 'ome wiv more'n five bags yer da will flip 'is lid." He replied. Sally sighed defeatedly. "C'mon." Jack turned and began walking off. Jeremy looked down at him.

"Hey Jackie?" He asked softly.

"Yeh, kiddo?"

"...are you guys monsters?" He asked. "Real ones? That come out on Halloween, like in the movies?" 

Jack looked up at him for a long moment. He smiled a bit. "...ye're a smar' one, ain'tcha?" He said softly. "Yeh, we are. We usually 'ide away from you's 'umans. 'Alloween is th' nigh' we stop 'idin'." He smiled up at the boy. "You won't tell any'ne, righ'?"

Jeremy nodded. "I won't." He murmured. He rested his head in Jack's soft black hair and smiled tiredly. "Thanks for letting me spend Halloween with you."

"Anyfin' fer you, kiddo." Jack replied softly. "I'm glad ye 'ad fun."

[shemakesmusic-uk]

After releasing their album Play With Fire last year via Suicide Squeeze Records, Californian punk trio L.A. Witch are sharing a new video for their standout track 'Motorcycle Boy'. Speaking about the video, L.A. Witch singer and guitarist Sade Sanchez said "The song is inspired by Moto Boys like Mickey Rourke, Marlon Brando, and Steve McQueen, so of course we took a lot of inspiration from our favorite biker movies like The Wild One, Rumble Fish, On any Sunday, Easy Rider, Hells Angeles '69 and The Girl on a Motorcycle. I had worked with (director) Ambar Navarro and Max on another project and loved their other work, so we wanted to work with them on this. They definitely did their homework and came up with a cool story line. I got to feature my bike that I'd been rebuilding during the pandemic. It was nice to shoot a video where you get to do two of your favorite things, riding motorcycles and play guitar."

Margo Price has shared a new music video for 'Hey Child', said to be the heart and “centerpiece” of her acclaimed 2020 album That’s How Rumors Get Started. It’s directed by Kimberly Stuckwisch. In the moving visual, the country star confronts the demons of her past. There are scenes referencing the time she spent in jail for substance abuse, as well as others depicting her struggles with addiction and depression. Price’s vulnerability is on full display here, and she ultimately uses it to heal and find strength again. Watch it down below. According to Price, 'Hey Child' was originally written back in 2012 “not long after my husband Jeremy and I lost our son Ezra.” She continued, noting how fellow country star and album producer Sturgill Simpson helped encourage her to release it: “'Hey Child' was a song that was written back in 2012 not long after my husband Jeremy and I lost our son Ezra. We were playing shows with our rock and roll band Buffalo Clover and occupying most of the bars in East Nashville. We had begun hanging with a rowdy group of degenerate musician friends and partying harder than The Rolling Stones…The song was about how many of our talented friends were drinking and partying their talents away but after a few years had passed, we realized it was just as much about us as our friends. I had retired it when the band broke up but Sturgill Simpson resurrected it when he asked me if I would re-record it for That’s How Rumors Get Started.” [via Consequence of Sound]

NYC collective MICHELLE has today unveiled their first new single of 2021. Titled 'FYO,' the track powerfully recounts the four lead singers’ experiences growing up with mixed race identities. The track arrives alongside a music video directed by the band’s own Layla Ku and Emma Lee. Speaking on the message behind the song, Jamee Lockard from the band shares: “'FYO' is about belonging to different worlds but feeling rejected by both. Growing up as a mixed-race minority in the US, my self concept was warped by other people telling me what I am and am not, pushing and pulling me between identities. Although my feelings of cultural dissonance still ebb and flow, now I have the vocabulary, support system, and perspective to unpack that inner conflict on my own terms. We should never give others the authority to define who we are."

With her new album Homecoming set for release on April 2 via Daemon T.V., Du Blonde is sharing the video for ‘Medicated’. Featuring Garbage’s Shirley Manson, Du Blonde says of the song, “‘Medicated’ is a letter to my 27 year old self who didn’t want to live anymore, from my now medicated, functioning and content self. It might sound depressing or concerning, but really it’s quite joyful. Like ‘look at how things can be if you hang around’. Shirley and I had talked about her adding vocals to a track and when I wrote Medicated it seemed like the perfect fit. She’s been a voice of reason for me many times when i’ve been struggling and it felt really appropriate to have her. I shot the video in my childhood bedroom using a green screen Girl Ray gave me at the start of lockdown,” she continues. “The spiders are a reference to a hallucination I had in my early teens where I pulled back my bed covers to see thousands of spiders writhing around in my bed, which now I see as a result of extreme anxiety. A lot of the scenarios in the video are a celebration of the things about me that I feel people might feel shame about. There’s so much stigma around taking medication in order to ease mental health conditions, so I wanted to express my feelings on the subject which is basically ‘I take medication and i’m stoked about it because thanks to that i’m still alive’.” [via DIY]

Back with her powerful Y2K sound, Spain's Rakky Ripper channels PC Music and Rina Sawayama on brightly catchy new single 'Whatever'. The new EP Xtra Cost is released  February 19. If you are over the age of 25, odds are that you can recall a very specific kind of pop that graced our launch into the new millennium. Since coined as "Y2K", chart music of that short era was flush with R&B beats, synthetic arrangements and sickly sweet hooks. Britney was the industry’s honey-highlighted princess whilst Christina made it dirrty. It’s something that Rina Sawayama has made 2020-relevant again with the release of her debut album Sawayama, whilst PC Music and Charli XCX took it to another extreme with the redefinition of what it means to be pop. Meanwhile, over in Spain, the alt-pop scene is flourishing courtesy of artists such as Rakky Ripper and her own unique blend of Y2K-meets-hyper-pop. Already gaining Charli XCX approval when the Mercury Award nominee asked Rakky to join her onstage at her Madrid show, the Granada talent shows crossover potential with her new single 'Whatever'. Punchy beats and playful synths capture the sticky heat of pop done well whilst its fuzzy guitar gives it an alternative edge, however it’s its hook-riddled chorus and Rakky’s Spanglish lyrical mix that make 'Whatever' a standout moment. “‘Whatever’ is the pop girl in my new EP Xtra Cost,” shares Rakky of her new release. “It’s my 2021 version of Britney, *NSYNC and the Spice Girls. The new video tells the story about two people who are in love but one of them pretends not to care, so the other person is always chasing.” [via Line Of Best Fit]

Things are afoot in the FKA twigs camp. In October, the R&B star revealed that her third album had been completed during quarantine. Now, she’s back with a new song called 'Don’t Judge Me'. It's her first since dropping the masterful album MAGDALENE in 2019. In addition to a stunning performance from FKA twigs, the track features UK rapper Headie One and producer Fred again…, who’s worked with the likes of Ed Sheeran and Brian Eno. 'Don’t Judge Me' appears to be something of a companion release or sequel to 'Don’t Judge Me (Interlude)', an early 2020 collaboration that also featured all three artists. Unlike the intentional vagueness of that song, the themes on this version are a lot more direct. During her verse and the hook, twigs begs her lover to hold her and appreciate the “precious love” she sends their way with a devastating urgency. Headie One takes a different approach in his verse and goes off about racial injustice and police brutality. “Know more about my people from the streets than from my teachers/ I done a million speeches/ No justice, no peace, ’cause we in pieces/ Officer, am I allowed to breathe here?,” he raps with a conversational directness. It’s a really powerful pairing from two different yet complementary artists with voices that demand the listener’s full attention. Check it out above via a dazzling video co-directed by FKA twigs and Emmanuel Adjei, who was heavily involved in Beyonce’s Black Is King visual album. Like all of FKA twigs’ clips, this one is truly something to behold. [via Consequence of Sound]

Girl Friday have delivered a surrealistic visual for 'Earthquake,' the powerhouse lead single from Androgynous Mary, their acclaimed album of 2020 out now on Hardly Art. 'Earthquake' is one of the band's most gloriously raging moments and sees the group power through three and a half minutes of unadulterated catharsis. Girl Friday’s Vera Ellen, who directed the new video, offers this, “The greatest love story is between a song and a video. I wanted to deconstruct the creative process. How do ideas find each other? What happens when the artist lets outside forces get in the way of an idea? How is an idea affected by us, the audience and our expectations? What does an idea have to do to become it’s complete, purest, self. Beyond anything, it’s a story of fighting for true liberation. This will look different for everyone but I hope people can project their own struggle onto the story, and relish in the freedom experienced by the characters (if only for a moment)."

J-Pop girl-group, FAKY has released their first single of 2021, 'The Light' with an accompanying music video. This song was selected as a campaign song for the horror film Jukaimura (Suicide Forest Village), the most recent work by the master horror director, Takashi Shimizu, who also directed The Ju-on (The Grudge) and Inunakimura (Howling Village). This up-tempo and cheerful track was created to add another layer of eerieness and uncertainty to the hair-raising storyline and themes of the movie. 2020 was a successful year for the girl group. FAKY hopes to further their success in 2021 starting with the release of 'The Light'. “Our new single ‘The Light’ is an uplifting song with its pop melody, powerful live band sound, and motivating message to move forward towards the light” - FAKY. The music was composed by up-and-coming music producer, Maeshima Soshi (Hypnosis Mic, Hey! Say! JUMP, Rinne and Sorane). 'The Light' expresses that moment when your heart quivers, just when you are about to change, with the theme being about overcoming conflict and having “power to strike out into the world.”

Kinlaw's dark-pop quest has seen her shatter boundaries. Snapped up by Bayonet Records, her piercing, roving eye deconstructs her personal feelings, illuminating electronic structures in their stead. New album The Tipping Scale is out this month, and it expertly reflects the vagaries of winter, the spartan landscapes and the self-examination. Taken from the record, new single 'Haircut' deals with shifts in her life, with the urge to propel herself into something fresh. "I cut my hair to confuse myself," she comments. "It started as a mission to change who I was, to make a new and better version, but ended with my feeling like I no longer knew what I was mourning." A song about leaving trauma behind and embracing the possibilities of the present, 'Haircut' carries some inspired connotations for these troubled times. Kinlaw says the single offers "a question of personal power, and even speaking on this song today has been challenging because it was written when I was unsure if I had any power left. I think 'Haircut' can be a lot of things to many different people, particularly those who identify with the juxtaposition of in-depth, internal dialogue paired with everyday coping strategies. There is a sweetness to it, but also such substantial, unwavering difficulty. Today, I prefer to think of 'Haircut' as an anthem of resilience and an ode to the ways we keep going, we shapeshift, and we reinstall that there is a way to find what it is we are hoping to find." The visual leans on the intimate, opening up a window into Kinlaw's life, and her true feelings. [via Clash]

The Rhode Island born,  Los Angeles based singer, songwriter, musician and actress Emeline is known for her work with Thievery Corporation's Rob Garza as well as her solo music full of biting lyrics and catchy hooks. Her new music video for '6 Foot Deep' was filmed at the infamous Westerfeld Mansion a.k.a “House of Legends.” Icons like Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin have lived there, as well as the founder of the Church of Satan. Covered in satanic etchings and scratches from his pet lions, the energy within the house added to the feel of the music video. Also previously used for the Russian Embassy, the house has featured on "Ghost Hunters" for it's haunted happenings.

The Charli XCX-crafted Nasty Cherry have returned with their first single of the year, 'Lucky'. The new track follows last year's Season 2 EP, and arrives as first taster of a new EP landing this spring. The band say of their new single, "'Lucky' is a song we wrote for each other during the pandemic where the six weeks we got to spend together felt incredibly precious and introspective. It's a reflective, sweet and spiky little song." [via Line Of Best Fit]

Griff has premiered the video for her incredible new single ‘Black Hole’. Launched as Annie Mac’s Hottest Record in the World last week, the striking new visual sees Griff examine a past relationship through a surreal, Alice in Wonderland’-esque journey from the sewing room into self-discovery (directed by duo SOB). [via With Guitars]

Poppy Ajudha has shared her new single 'Weakness' in full. The London based artist blends together jazz, soul, R&B, and a whole lot more besides, resulting in a sound that is truly her own. 'Weakness' is a song about love, and it finds Poppy capturing that nuanced dichotomy between the rush of pleasure and an innate fear of being out of control. In a note, Poppy explains that her new single is "about feeling out of control and at the mercy of someone else because of how crazy they make you feel, but also feeling bittersweet about it, because you’re a bad b*tch and you don’t have time for that ish." The songwriter steered the video, too, a self-admitted "control freak" who oversaw the neat mixture of animation and a superbly styled set. "Self-directing was really fun," she comments. "I’m a control freak so it was great to get stuck into all the facets of making a music video. Choosing the team, the makeup looks, directing the styling ideas, writing the narrative, working out how to build the set. It definitely felt like a challenge to direct, star-in and perform choreographed moves for the first time but I love to push myself and am really glad I did." [via Clash]

GG McG’s latest single, ‘Good Morning’, is her first release this year and second overall, following ‘Boom’ in 2019. The song was written on GarageBand during lockdown and was produced by Japanese Wallpaper’s Gab Strum, mixed by Konstantin Kersting and mastered by Andrei Eremin. “‘Good Morning’ is about the total, complete chaos of the past year and the feeling of waking up every morning, reading the news and being blown away by just how much worse things were than the day before,” McGauran said in a statement. [via the Music Network]

Singer HyunA dropped her seventh mini album I’m Not Cool on Thursday, singing of the ups and downs of being the “cool girl” on stage. The album’s title song 'I’m Not Cool' sings about the nice things she tells herself. “It’s really about my originality. I try to compliment myself before going onto the stage. I tell myself it’s not bad to be myself. I’ve long dreamed of this moment right now, and I feel like I’m a bird flying freely in the sky or a flower blooming in the field. I know I cannot be loved by everyone, but I become perfect with just one person’s love. The song is about these kind of every day thoughts.” Donned in exotic outfits and flashy makeup, HyunA said she “became a snake” in the song that sings “No one’s as intense as I am, like salmosa. I tried to show as much of myself as I could in the music video. I wanted to show how intense the ‘not cool’ HyunA could become when fully set,” she added. The creativity behind the title track comes from the unique minds of herself, singer and the founder of her agency P Nation Psy, and her best colleague and boyfriend Dawn. “We worked on the song while just chatting about it endlessly with each other,” HyunA said. “When Psy threw in a big catchy chunk, Dawn would creatively unfold this, adding fun elements to make it fit my style and state of mind. I personally like writing those rebellious lines. Mingling these three minds together, every day, was just so much fun.” [via The Korea Herald]

THYLA are sharing their first new music of 2021, with new single 'Breathe', a track that the band confirm will appear on their long-awaited debut album, set for release later this year. Putting 2020 firmly in the rear-view mirror, the Thyla ethos of putting one foot in front of the other serves them well as they look toward what a long-awaited debut album might sound like. As self-confessed underdogs they've developed an attitude that aims at turning the possible into the inevitable, and with the hypnotic 'Breathe' they reach for reflective, melancholy sounds to accompany what is a time of intense loneliness for many. It is a theme that has been creeping into Thyla's music for some time, and 'Breathe' sees them further explore the idea that, in a world more connected than ever, we are paradoxically more shut off as individuals. 'Breathe' shows yet again that even at their subtlest, Thyla are capable of carving out an impassioned pop world full of the intricacies of our much-missed IRL interactions. Lead singer Millie Duthie offers these thoughts on the track: "'Breathe' was written in the early hours of the morning. Eventually we chanced upon this really vibey atmospheric lick that you hear in the intro, and the whole song grew from there. The song blossomed into a slightly melancholic dream-pop bop, it’s bittersweet and has a slightly inconclusive feeling to it; imagine a film where the main character never actually gets the happy ending you’ve been so long yearning for. The result of how the instrumental sounded no doubt manifested lyrics that held the same sentiment. The song is about loneliness, estrangement from family and close friends, yet despite this, feeling a sense of inner strength about the situation. It’s like recovering from a breakup and realising you’ve come out stronger, but a reflection of the scar tissue that resulted from the trauma."

[marvelslut16]

A jealous new year

Pairing: Sam Winchester x reader

Synopsis: (Y/N) has been working with Sam and Dean for the past two years. She had feelings for Sam almost instantly, but has never acted on them. The three hunters head to a bar on new years eve, and now that a guy that kinda looks like Sam is all over (Y/N) will he finally confess his feelings?

Word count: 2505

Warnings: Implied smut. Poorly written smut adjacent? Slight smut? Swearing, Unwanted advances. A dash of violence. 

A/N: I just want to say a major thank you to every single person who has ever liked, commented, or reblogged my work this past year! It was my first year on here and you guys made it so amazing. It’s so hard to believe that I have close to 300 followers since I started this blog in May. Especially since I’m not too consistent with uploads (I’m working on that I promise). Also, if this story completely suck, I’m sorry. It’s my first time writing for Sam, and I wrote this in about two hours to get it out on the first of the year. One last thing in my super long note, I’m having knee surgery in two weeks so I’ll have more time to write. Please, please, please, feel free to send in requests.

Sam and Dean Winchester were never ones for traditions, with the exception of the family business that is. The only time they celebrated a holiday was when it was Dean’s last Christmas before he was sent to Hell. After that they got too busy with all of the apocalypse crap, and they just didn’t care anymore. Not even when they picked up you, the holiday queen. 

While you were a hunter and researcher, never in one place for long, you still loved to celebrate the holidays. In a way it gave you some control and brought happiness in your otherwise hectic life. You soon learned that the boys wouldn’t even humor you and celebrate, deciding to ignore your festive spirit or yell at you on the stressful days that happened to line up with a holiday. In the two years you have been with the hunters, they’ve celebrated zero holidays with you. 

Today is New Year’s Eve and you don’t even try to get them to celebrate with you, instead opting to get dressed up in your best dress and go get drunk. It’s close to nine at night when you’re dressed and ready to leave, hoping you can catch Dean on his way to a local bar. 

When you leave your room you notice the bunker is completely silent, so you head to the library hoping the Winchesters are in there. The TV would typically have Dick Clark’s Rockin New Years Eve on, you liked to watch it even though there was a two hour time difference between Kansas and New York, but you kept it off since the brothers are grumpy Gus’. 

As expected the brothers were in the library searching for a new case, because they clearly don’t know how to sit still. The three of you had gotten home from a pretty nasty wendigo hunt late last night, and here they were already looking for a new one. 

“Hey Dean, you heading out soon?” you ask the shorter brother. 

“Yeah, in a lit- whoa,” Deans green eyes widen as he takes in your appearance. They’ve never really seen you all done up; nice dress, makeup, hair done nice, and a pair of heels. 

“You’re not planning on going out like that, are you?” Sam asks incredulously. You nervously pull at the bottom of your dress. 

“As a matter of fact, I am,” you say more confident than you feel. Sam’s scrutinizing gaze makes you self conscious. 

His caring attitude had made you feel at home with them two years ago. The gratification and comfort soon twisting into desire and an intimate affection. You knew you stood no chance with him, so you pushed those feelings away almost as soon as they arose. If he saw anything in you, he would have stopped Dean’s constant flirting, right? 

“When do you want to leave, sweetheart?” Dean openly checks you out, bringing back the confidence that Sam had just washed away. 

“As soon as your ready,” you smirk down at his seated form. He quickly gets up and slips his leather jacket on, fixing his collar before twirling Baby’s keys around his index finger. You but on your black leather jacket, popping your collar with attitude. The jackets may not be weather appropriate, but they’re more for looks than warmth tonight. 

“Wait for me,” Sam’s rough voice comes from behind you.

“You sure you really wanna go buzzkill?” Dean laughs. Sam ignores him as he roughly grabs his jacket and heads to the garage door. Dean and you makes exasperated faces at each other, tonight will sure be interesting. 

Even though Sam made it to the garage first, you made it to Baby first and slid into the passenger seat. Sam grumbles as he makes his way to the backseat, leather squeaking as he gets into the car. 

“Who’s gonna be the designated driver?” Sam asks gruffly. 

“Not it!” Dean and you shout at the same time, making eye contact before giggling at each other. Sam grumbles from the back again, but you can’t bring yourself to care. 

“Free drinks here I came,” you smirk as you step out of the Impala, fixing your cleavage to pop more. “See you in the new year boys,” you wink before walking ahead of them, making sure it’s obvious to the other guys you’re available. 

There’s an attractive man at your side the moment you sit on one of the bar stools. The bar is packed, but minus your best friends this stranger was the most attractive guy in there. He’s taller than Dean, but shorter than Sam, and his hair is long like Sammy’s but he’s clean shaven. He’s bottom shelf Sam Winchester, but if that’s the closest you can get to having Sam you sure as hell are gonna take advantage of the opportunity. 

“Whatcha drinking?” the blue eyed man grins down at you, eyes flicking to the girls.

“A rum and coke, but I wouldn’t mind a tall glass of you later,” you bite your lip and look up at him through your lashes. 

You hear a gruff laugh come from your other side, your eyes flick over to Dean’s green ones. He’s smirking at your stupid line, that somehow made blue eyes melt. Sam’s glaring at the scene in front of him as a blonde waitress pushes her boobs into his arm. A surge of anger runs through you, but you ignore it as you turn back to the man graciously buying you a drink.

The TV behind the bar is playing Dick Clark’s Rockin New Years Eve and you can’t help but grin, you won’t miss the famous ball drop after all. You and blue eyes, who’s name you learn is Jeremy, talk and flirt for the next twenty minutes. He’s not bad to look at, and he’s not completely boring. When the subject of work comes up you of course lie and say you’re a librarian, he comments about how he had a thing for his librarian when he was in grade school, which is a tad gross and too much information. Jeremy works for a fortune 500 company that you can’t remember the name of, and is in Lebanon on business. How many drinks have you had in twenty minutes? 

Drunk voices shouting in unison alerts you to the fact that the countdown is staring on the TV. You turn and catch Dean’s eye, he quickly vacated the seat next to you for a group of sorority girls, some brunette is sitting on his lap and playing with his necklace. The two of you smirk and wink at each other, tonight's going to be fun. However, your smirk falls when your eyes land on Sam, he’s at the opposite side of the bar and glaring at Jeremy. You quickly turn away from him and back to those pretty blue eyes. They can’t compare to Sam's gorgeous expressive hazel eyes, but they’re still pretty. 

Your painted lips meet Jeremy’s chapped ones when the ball has officially dropped. This kiss is too fast, too hard, too rough. His tongue forces its way into your mouth, you bite it playfully hoping he would catch your drift and back off. He doesn’t. Instead he pulls you off your stool and almost don’t catch your balance. His hands leave your back and slide down to grab your butt. Too fast. 

You rest your hands on his chest, and push off of him hard. He laughs and licks his lips in an attempt to be sexy, but it just comes off as weird. Jeremy orders you another drink as you get back on the stool. You do a quick glance around the bar, lots of people are clearing out even though it’s not midnight, wanting to ring in the new year in someone's arms. Your eyes land on Sam’s figure as you thinking about being tangled in someone’s embrace, but all you get is his back. Your eyes slip down to his denim covered backside, the jeans hugging it deliciously. It takes you a second to realize he’s storming off to the bathroom. 

Your eyes continue their search of the bar, and they meet Dean’s furrowed brows. You silently communicate with just the slightest changes in your facial features. He soon gets up and follows Sam, since you demanded he do so. He flips you the bird right before he turns the corner to the bathrooms. You turn back around to a pair of blues staring at you so intently.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say your trying to get me drunk,” you’re voice comes out light and airy, even though the feeling of dread is sinking to the pit of your stomach. Jeremy tries to laugh it off, but there’s something in his smile that tells you you’re right. 

Sam and Dean are gone for close to five minutes and you worry that they were attacked by a monster, they’re defenseless and probably wouldn’t be able to contact you for help. Just as your about to excuse yourself from Jeremy, Sam and Dean’s tall statures come into view. Dean walks back over to his sorority girl, while Sam sits heavily in a stool closer to yours. You try to get the taller mans attention, but he avoids looking in your direction.

“Lets get out of here,” Jeremy’s hand is on your ass again, this time giving it an unwelcome squeeze. He leans into you, lips brushing against your earlobe before giving it a painful bite. 

“I’m happy here,” you slightly pull away from him, scared that he;ll snap if you retreat too quickly. His hand falls heavily on your thigh, too far up for your liking and you squeak in surprise. “What are you doing?” your voice raises slightly, alerting Sam to what's going on.

“Getting ready for you to repay me. After all, I did buy your drinks,” his grip tightens. All of your hunter instincts disappear, more scared now than on a solo vamp hunt. 

“Get your hands off her,” Sam rips Jeremy’s sweaty palm off your bare thigh, voice gaining attention as it bounces off the paneled walls.

“Whoa man, calm down,” Jeremy looks around at all the eyes staring at us. “This is my girl, it’s called role-play.”

“She isn’t your girl, she’s my best friend. Now hands off,” Sam practically growls, fires burning bright in his hazel eyes. Your teeth gently gnaw on your bottom lip, Sam’s jealousy is undeniably sexy. “Let’s go (Y/N),” he grabs your hand and leads you to the exit. 

“Whatever man,” Jeremy calls after you. “She’s just a whore, she was asking for it.”

Sam is in Jeremy’s face in two long strides, boots stomping on the wooden floor. Sam’s fist connects with Jeremy’s nose, a sickening crack echoing through the silent bar. Blood spurts out of Jeremy’s nose and falls onto his button up. “You don’t talk about anyone like that,” Sam takes a menacing step towards Jeremy, they’re chest to chest. “Especially not (Y/N).” 

Sam walks swiftly back to you, escorting you out the door and into the Impala’s passenger seat. A tense silence hangs in the air on the drive home, you don’t dare try putting music on. As soon as the car is off, Sam is out of it and stomping into the bunker. You really regret leaving Dean behind and assuming he’ll find a way home in the morning.

You grab a glass of water, deciding that you shouldn’t drink a beer and add to your alcohol level, and you watch Sam’s tense form pace the kitchen. “Why him,” Sam eventually asks.

“What?” your surprised by the question. You expected to get reprimanded for your behavior, not this question.

“I have my reasons,” you state defensively. Sam walks up to you grabbing the table on either side of you, effectively caging you.

“Why?” Sam’s anger grows, the wooden table seems to bend under his tight grip.

“Because he looked like you!” the words leave your mouth before you can realize it. Sam lets go of the table and steps away from you, and you realize that you just ruined your friendship, “Just forget I said anything,” you mumble as you head to your room.

Sam finally reacts, reaching out and yanking on your wrist as you walk past him. You're spun around so you're now chest to chest with him, he grabs your glass and sets it on the table next to him.  

“Do you really mean that?” he gently cups your cheek, searching your eyes for any hint of a lie. 

“Of course I do,” you laugh softly, “I’ve been in love with you since I met you Sam Winchester.”

“I love you too,” a grin splits across his face as he pulls you in for an earth shattering kiss, it's like nothing you've ever felt before. 

The kiss quickly heats up and your unbuttoning his flannel and discarding it on the kitchen floor. He quickly, hungrily, pushes your leather jacket off your shoulders and you can’t bring yourself to care that your phone was in the pocket. He leads you backwards as you continue to kiss, stopping in the hallway for a second so he can get you out of your dress.

He pushes you into his room, slamming the door shut with his foot. You pull away panting, your hands go to work on unfastening his belt and getting those jeans off of him. He drinks in the sight of you in your bra and panties, a sight he’ll never get tired of seeing. He’s pulled back from his trance when his belt hits the floor with a clang, leaving you both in your undergarments.

Your mouth waters at the tent in his boxers and the way the material curves around his plump butt. You sink to your knees and use your teeth to pull down his boxers. Your nose skims across his impressive length causing him to inhale sharply. He quickly pulls you to your feet, practically ripping the last of the material on you off. 

He pushes you back onto his bed, hovering over you. His lips connect with your neck, sucking so hard he’s undoubtedly marking your skin. He murmurs soft I love you’s as he kissed down your bare skin, each touch of his lips sends heat directly to your core. Every kiss gets him closer and closer until the place you need him most, his breath ghosts over your slick folds sending a delightful shiver down your spine.

“Your mine,” his voice is husky and rough. Every drawn-out syllable conveys his need. 

“I'm all yours,” you gasp out as his fingers slide into you and his lips latch onto your clit.

And just like all of those people from the bar, you ring in the new year with you limbs tangled with Sam’s. The plain white sheet tightly wrapped around yours and Sam’s calves and ankles. There is no better way to enter the new year.

Permanent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen @rexorangecouny​

[nataliejoyart]

Unit Zero: Chapter One

This is chapter one of a story of mine: Unit Zero. It’s about a group of kids brought together by people who once protected the universe so that the honorable duty can be passed to another generation. It’s kind of long, but read it, and I think you’ll really like it.

“There’s a disturbance in sector nineteen, sir!”

“We’re in the middle of a siege, Felicia, I need you to be a little more specific.”

“The radar is picking up traces of a portal that opened up just long enough to throw some kind of mechanical device through. The heat signatures are high, and it’s the size of two horses.”

“It doesn’t sound like a pressing issue right now,” a man with dark skin and greying hair remarked, brown eyes flicking across the holographic battle statues littered across a large map. He moved a large, muscular arm as a robed servant sneaked up to the table with a glassy, glowing tablet and pushed some of the statues around the board. They also added a glowing red, rectangular object in the sector of the board marked “11”.

Another man, far leaner with pale skin and a thin face, argued, “Sector eleven is practically vacant of both the Tarantulas and our own forces! It could be an ambush. That could be a way to knock a hole in the wall!”

“The castle walls are far stronger than any mere explosive could knock through.” Another well-dressed delegate said. “Besides, something of that size without anyone to maneuver it won’t get very far with all those trees.”

“It could be remote-controlled.” The pale man retorted. “How do you think we lay siege on other kingdoms, Gregory?”

“Calm down, both of you.” The dark-skinned man said with a glare. Twisting around, he stared at another man’s back. A man draped in the finest forest-green robes, illuminated by the ginormous projection which he stared at, shifting things across it with diligence. His chocolate brown hair was ruffled, and his foot tapped with tired agitation. “Alexander?”

Without turning to address him, the robed man said shortly, “Send a small squadron. Whatever from nearby forces you can spare. Make sure they have a mechanic to disable whatever it is. Lucinda, do you have the report from Marcos yet?”

“Not yet, sir.” a woman called across the room, “He’s still silent.”

The dark-skinned man turned back to the holographic board. “Well, you heard him. Send a squad. Helena in sector twelve should be able to spare six for a short time.”

“Look. There.”

Six scorpions, each only as large as a quarter, lined themselves along a tree root, staring past the dense foliage. They stood mere feet from an accordian of burning metal painted black and white, red and blue flashing across the trees around them.

“Proceed carefully.” One of the scorpions said, climbing over the root and skittering in a wide circle around the metal. The others followed behind.

“Wait.” one said as they circled. “I know what this is. It’s a very old form of transportation. One of the first. I didn’t recognize it at first because it’s smashed.”

The scorpion wasn’t wrong.

A police cruiser singed everything around it, its front end smashed against a now-crooked tree. The windows had shattered and the doors were flung wide. It was a terrifying scene and the acrid smell of blood wafting from inside the cruiser, adding a morbid chill to the air. As the scorpions drew in closer, they could see the deflated forms of airbags in the driver and passenger seats. The dash was unrecognizable. But there were no bodies in the vehicle.

Rather, they were some seventy feet away.

The scorpions, hearing shuffling, came around the other side of the cruiser to find-

“Humans…” one of the soldiers chattered. “But what are they doing out here?”

There were two. A woman, with long brown hair and olive skin, hung over a man with short copper hair and a muscular build who lay unmoving on the forest floor. The woman lifted her head from the man’s chest, beginning to fumble with a roll of gauze. Both were beaten and bruised badly, the man with a now disfigured, bloody left leg and sticky, crimson hair. The woman continued to ignore a shard of shrapnel in her hip and the glistening piece of glass in her arm as she fussed over the battered man.

She twisted her head around, peering into the black forest.

“Is anyone there?!” she hollered. “Someone, please! I need help!”

Without waiting for a reply, she tore a section of the gauze from the roll and began tightly wrapping it around the man’s leg as it oozed with thick, crimson blood.

“Come on, Jeremy. Open your eyes…”, she muttered, looking around the forest again.

One of the scorpions chattered into a thin wire near its head, “This is the party for sector nineteen. A pair of humans crashed an automobile. What should we do now? Over.”

There was silence for a few moments, then a voice replied, “Do not engage. Return to sector twelve. Over.”

“Copy that. Over.” The scorpion gave the humans one last glance before turning and starting back. “We’re heading back.”

The scorpions turned their backs on the humans. They returned to the pressing war, ignoring the woman’s cries for help.

But the woman wouldn’t give up without help.

“Come on, Jeremy.” she hissed, lifting her shaking hand from his leg and watching in horror as blood gushed out, pooling out and soaking her knees. Ripping her belt from around her waist, she wrapped it around his thigh and pulled it as tight as she could, not waiting to see if the tide would ebb. She bandaged him tightly, glad to find nothing else was nearly as serious.

“SOMEBODY HELP!”

The woman stood, ignoring a pounding headache. Coughing up a clot of blood, she peered around her, past the trees. As the wind died, the rustling of the leaves hesitated and the faintest sounds of… something… drifted around her.

“What in the world is going on…?” she asked the trees, turning in lonely circles for a clue.

The man - her partner - shifted on the ground, shocking the woman from her trance. Crouching next to him once more, she sighed.

“You aren’t going to die here, Jeremy.” she grunted, beginning to heft him onto her far smaller figure. But the police academy had trained her for this. She would be fine… She could do th-

“Agh!” The woman crumpled, pain shooting through her right leg. But she grit her teeth and stood herself up again. You could see the pain in her wet, grey eyes as she threw everything behind her one last look before beginning to struggle forward into the black of the trees.

“The two humans from sector nineteen are moving inward towards the battlefield.” Felicia commented plainly.

The men surrounding the holographic board flicked their eyes over two red dots, watching as they made barely visible process away from the reportedly crashed automobile towards the castle.

“We should just eliminate them while Helena’s party is still nearby.” The pale man said.

“That could cause unrest if they don’t return from where they came.” Gregory commented with caution.

“Where did they come from, Felicia? Could you trace that portal’s signature?” The dark-skinned man asked, blinking sleep from his eyes.

“It was only open for a moment,” Felicia replied, “but it left traces from Dimension 90502.”

“Turn Helena’s squad around.”

The three delegates looked up in surprise at the sudden comment. A young man stood nearby, dressed in a black military uniform lined with silver. He appeared to be barely twenty, but carried a grand air around him. His eyes reflected his short-cropped brown hair and his face didn’t appear at all threatening. But the silver medallion of a dragon that hung from the pocket on his chest earned him the respect he deserved.

“But, sir.”, the pale man argued, “We are already stretched thin and-”

“Send Helena’s squad back and collect those humans.” The boy commanded sternly.

The dark-skinned man scowled, “Ambassador Tenney. You do not make decisions on this war council. Mind you place.”

“And you mind yours, Cadwallen.” the ambassador retorted. “The Scorpion kingdom is on good terms with Dimension 90502 and trust me when I say this war will last far longer should you not follow my orders.”

Cadwallen frowned. “We are in the middle of a war, Ambassador. We do not have the time nor the resources to deal with two wayward humans.” Before the boy could argue, Cadwallen continued, “However… I will compromise. Should they make it to the edge of the forest without dying… I will send a party to collect and take care of them.”

Ambassador Tenney seemed ready to argue again, but a call came from across the room for him. “Fine.” he agreed, walking away, “I will hold you to that.”

The delegates watched him walk away, Gregory commenting, “That was odd.”

“Yes…” The pale man narrowed his eyes, “He has never shown such concern for humans, let alone from other dimensions.” Shaking his head and turning back to the board, he chuckled, “He’ll be disappointed to learn in a few hours they were both found dead.”

“No one would be able to make it that far with the injuries they have.” Cadwallen agreed.

“Well, we could always clean up this mess early while Helena’s squad is still nearby.” Gregory suggested eerily. “No one would be surprised by two human deaths not far from their vehicle’s crash…”

“Gregory…” Cadwallen cautioned. “I will not agree to any such dirty behavior. Just let them bleed out as they walk. We have more pressing issues.”

But apparently the humans hadn’t bled enough.

They stumbled their way through the forest, the man nodding back to consciousness some twenty or so minutes into the woman carrying him. The pair stopped for some time when he did, but continued onward again.

“And what now, Cadwallen?” Gregory furrowed his brow, leaning with weary arms against the edge of the table. “They didn’t bleed out like you had hoped.”

When the dark-skinned man didn’t respond, the toll of the endless day’s work showing, Gregory scoffed and waved over a messenger.

“I want a squad out in sector eighteen as fast as possible. There are a pair of humans that need eliminating before any more trouble arises.” he grunted, watching as the messenger nodded and turned back. They had barely begun to rely Gregory’s order before turning back to him.

“Sir, a squadron is already making their way along there. They will reach the humans’ location in about three minutes should they keep their current pace.”

“Fine!” Gregory was becoming impatient. “Send them then, I don’t care!”

“But sir-”

“What?!”

The messenger swallowed. “It’s King Carl’s squadron.”

Gregory’s face fell, the color diminishing from his face. But he blinked and replied calmly, “Then please relay the information to them. And should they not be able to complete the task, send another group.”

“Yes, sir.”

“We’re almost… there…” The human woman heaved, her knees knocking as she struggled forward. The man leaned heavily against her, half-asleep but alive. His bandages were crimson now, not a fleck of white on them, and lines of blood ran down from them. But his wounds were no longer gushing.

The man didn’t respond, limply hanging onto his partner as she dragged him more than support him as they walked. But he did lift his hand as the distant sound of hooves pounding against the forest floor echoed through the trees. The pair stopped, turning in the direction of the sound, watching and waiting.

Suddenly, flashes of movement between the trees appeared, slight and hard to make out through the red haze of blood in their eyes. Just as the calvary descended upon them, riding on chestnut war horses and wearing dark green robes and polished silver armor, the humans had the sense to stumble out of the way. The woman gasped as a sword’s sharpened tip clipped her shoulder, and she almost dropped her partner. Looking up, her eyes flashed as she spotted a royal crest welded into the horsemen’s armor: a resting scorpion with elegant details but clearly recognizable.

The woman watched as one of the soldiers looped around again on their horse, sword still drawn. Her wide, grey, bloodshot eyes traced over the crest again, and just as the swordsman was crashing down upon them again, she held up her hand, shouting desperately, “I demand an audience with your king!”

The sword stopped, mere inches from her disheveled head. One of the calvary had his hand in the air, staring down his nose at the pair of humans.

“I am this land’s King, human.” he grunted, despair flashing through the woman’s eyes. The little bit of life left drained from her face as she turned to look up at him. “Truly, I do apologize. But sympathy does not belong in war.”

He nodded, bringing his hand up to his ear where a practically invisible communication device sat.

The swordsman’s blade reared back to strike once more. But the human man grunted, watching the soldier with swollen eyes. He shoved his partner back, almost collapsing as his weight returned to his crippled leg. He hissed through his teeth, but kept the pain in, grunting, “Go!”

Tossed into a bush, the woman’s vision spun, but she lifted her head to watch as the soldier brought his sword down towards her partner. Just as he did, she played her last, most desperate, vain card yet.

“Alexander Kokona!” she cried from the ground, her breath catching in her chest as she watched the sword halt again, this time with an aggravated jolt.

The King’s hand was up again, fiery eyes boring into the woman.

“I know… Alexander Kokona…” she gasped, swallowing hard.

There was brittle silence as neither person blinked. Only when the human man’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he crumpled to the forest floor did anyone move.

The woman moved to help her partner, but froze as another sword was drawn.

An irritated snarl fell over the King’s face and he dropped the hand held to his earpiece.

“We’re taking them in.” he snapped, lurching his steed around as though in refusal to look at the pair of humans any longer. The soldiers hesitated, but as their king made off through the forest without them at a slow trot, they scrambled to follow his orders.

The two humans were rushed into the hands of some of the finest medical caretakers any dimension would ever see. Stretched thin by the war, methods were loose at the moment and practically everyone emitted needed ICU level treatment. The woman dropped out of consciousness shortly after watching as her partner was whisked away on a gurney, waking up some time later to the suffocating sounds of a quiet hospital room.

No one spoke to her about the words that had saved her and her partner’s lives. And she didn’t ask, either. It wasn’t until some thirty hours later that she was allowed out of her bed to check on the man she’d dragged to a now thin fence of safety. And it was as she stared through a window into his room that things started to brighten.

Ambassador Tenney made a point of following through with promises he made, whether to himself or others. However, he had learned quite a while ago that if he didn’t write those promises down, they likely wouldn’t ever come to fruition. Hence the leather-bound notebook clasped in his hands.

He trekked down the unusually silent hospital halls, his uniform feeling tight as the day’s end neared. He supposed it was more fitting to say his day was nearing an end, rather, as the clicking hands of a clock above him read 11:52PM.

“I already told you, this one isn’t anyone we know.” he groaned.

He wasn’t alone at this unsightly hour of the night. Another man walked next to him, a perfection reflection of the chocolate-haired man from the hall of the war council. However, unlike that man, his oval face held no square glasses and his broad shoulders bore barely a fiftieth of the responsibility that his brother’s did. That didn’t stop him from leafing through a pair of thin files with a mildly concerned frown.

“Perhaps not someone you would know.” he chaffed, “But I have more faces in here,” he tapped his temple, “than you’ve seen in seventeen lifetimes.”

The ambassador rolled his eyes. “You haven’t been outside the kingdom in nine years. And you’d barely been a member of modern society four years before that. No one you knew before that is alive now.”

“My brother is.”

“That is a special case, Steve!”

The vexed glare of a nearby nurse silenced the pair as the walked, speeding up their steps as they neared their destination.

“Either way, it’s little business of yours what I do in my spare time.”

“I never said that.” Tenney sighed, “But your brother did ask for you a little more than an hour ago.”

Steve waved a dismissive hand, “All he wants is to make sure I’ve stayed within the castle walls during this dull siege. He couldn’t care less about my advice.”

They turned another corner, stopping as a now wheelchair-bound man was rolled past them.

The ambassador nodded down the hall, saying, “They should be just down here.”

The pair turned into the dimly lit hall, the grim atmosphere becoming far heavier. Their pace slowed and they watched as several around them, whether in the hall or through windows into rooms, numbly sit and stare off into the distance at nothing in particular.

“This is him.” Tenney mentioned quietly, stopping in front of a room. A woman sat across the hall in a chair, bent over with her arms propper on her knees and long, bronze hair blanketing her face.

Only one man was inside the room, lying peacefully in the bed as monitors glowed around him, proving he still hung onto life. He had dusty brown hair that was sticky with blood and grime and a square face that was riddle with bruises and scrapes atop now-minor swelling. He was muscular and seemed to be healthy, besides his current condition. They stared at him for a couple minutes in silence.

Then Steve frowned as he looked through the window.

“I told you.” the ambassador sighed.

“No, it’s not…” Steve said, words trailing off dismissively. He looked up and down the hall, rolling out his shoulders uncomfortably. “I just thought…”

Tenney gave him an odd expression, “You’re freaking me out, man. What?”

The woman behind them shifted, and the pair glanced behind them, having forgotten about her, ducked their heads. They hadn’t meant to wake her.

She lifted her head, sitting up in the chair and brushing her hair back to reveal a round, freckled face. Misty grey eyes blinked a few times as they adjusted to the light, and she looked up at them, puzzled. As her sight cleared, her eyes flashed as she watched the two men.

“Sorry, ma’am.” the ambassador apologized sweetly. She stood, leaning on crutches and only coming up about five feet and looking even smaller in her oversized baby blue hospital gown. A patient. And one the pair recognized from her file. She was the other human from dimension 90502. “We didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No, that’s alright.” she replied quietly with a small smile, voice hoarse. “I shouldn’t be sleeping down here anyway. You’d think being in and out of hospitals I would know the basic rules.”

“Are you a nurse?” Tenney asked, already knowing the answer.

She shook her head, “I’m a police officer.” she let out a devastated laugh, gesturing to the solemn hall they stood in, “Although, obviously not from around here.” She scoffed in reference to the strange world she and her partner had been thrown into.

Ambassador Tenney glanced at Steve, who hadn’t said a thing which wasn’t exactly in character. He was staring at the woman with an odd expression, like he couldn’t figure her out.

Ignoring Steve, the ambassador held out a hand, “I’m Ambassador Kyle Tenney. Might I ask your name?”

The woman took it, her face dropping for a moment. But a genuine smile slid across her face as she replied, “I’m sure you already know it.”

Kyle’s face became puzzled. But before he could say anything, Steve answered.

“Natalie Smith.”

[chezzkaa]

Numb pt 5

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Lumberjack AU Pairing: Ryan Haywood x Reader WC: 3200+ Warnings: graphic depictions of violence

Your bag hits the floor with a loud thud, but it’s nothing in comparison to the beat your heart sings too. You’d hoped it would quieten once Ryan wasn’t around, but the sound that rushed through your chest had followed you home. Up the snow banks and stairs, and through the lodge until it stands in front of you. Granting it your attention, it sings for a few more minutes before eventually fading with the nervous smile you put out of your mind. Absent fingers dive into your pocket, pulling out two small, smooth and dark stones, passing them across one another in your hand. Flashes of the gold inscribed against their surface sees you calming, tight giddiness in the centre of your chest relaxing. It doesn’t dim the smile, but it’s enough to think straight.

Then your phone is pressed to your ear, waiting for the distant rings while you continue to fold the stones. Your best friend’s voice greets you after the click, making your heart leap and the smile on your lips widen into a grin.

“Hey Y/N, what’s up?”

You try and sound as flippant as possible, suppressing the excited stretch of your lips. “Oh, hey Lauren, how’s life-”

She cuts you off, familiar with the tone and willing to take none of your teasing. “What’s his name?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Y/N. What’s his name?”

“How rude,” you hedge through a smile, “my energies are struggling in this new environment and my stones need charging, and you think I’m all foggy because of some-”

“Shut up, Y/N. I know damn well that your energies are fucked, I can feel it all the way from here. Stick your fucking stones in the moonlight, damn it. But don’t you dare try and get out of this. What’s the fuck’s name?”

“Ryan,” you cave, the eager blip fluttering in your chest seeing you glare at the stones, abandoning them on the windowsill in the hopes bathing in the moon will help. “Stupid fucking things, I swear ever since I’ve moved they’ve been acting up. I tried using them the other morning, right? And nothing, absolutely nothing. They’re not even touching the weird fuzzy whatever-the-fuck thing is going on and making me feel kinda out of it. But oh my god dude, he’s amazing. His eyes are so fucking blue, Loz, and oh my god his fucking smile!”

“Spill, spill! So help me, Y/N, if I don’t get every juicy detail I’m gonna fly to those mountains and-”

But you don’t give her to opportunity to finish, pouring your heart into the phone line, agonising over every description, every flirtatious smile, and every heart skipping laugh. “His puns are fucking terrible.”

“Marry him,” she demands, “marry him right now.”

“I’ll make sure to propose as soon as I get to work tomorrow.”

“Wait, he’s your coworker?”

“Lauren,” you fold the words over slowly, feeling her excitement vibrate against your cheek, “he’s practically my boss.”

“YOUR BOSS?! Fuck, Y/N.”

“I know!” you throw yourself sideways, splaying across the couch and grinning at the ceiling. “Trust me, I know. But hey, enough about me. My face is gonna fucking split if I keep thinking about it. Speaking of bosses, how are things with you? How’s Trevor?”

It’s her turn to gush, voice quickening with her enthusiasm. “Dude. DUDE. Cus of you guys moving and shit he decided to take me out. We got all dressed up, and I mean dressed up. Heels, black lipstick - I looked like I might kill a bitch. And bitch, I might. But he picks me up and we’re driving, right? And he pulls into a burger joint. My favourite burger joint. So we’re sat there in this grease filled room surrounded by people in pj’s while I’m in this fucking expensive dress and he’s in this hot as fuck tux and bow tie, and Y/N?”

“Don’t tell me,” you giggle, “you fucking loved it, right?”

“I FUCKING LOVED IT.”

---

It takes a while for you to start moving, slumping off the couch and to your knees. Shuffling towards the fireplace, it's as simple as lighting a match; last night's set up of tinder and newspaper catching almost instantly. Lost in the hypnotic flames and the comfort your best friend is always able to provide without even trying, the room is engulfed in amber; warmth wrapping its arms around you as you wander to the kitchen, flick on the kettle, and get a cup ready. Scrounging up what the herbal ingredients you’ve stashed inside the island counter, you’re careful when measuring out quantities, muttering under your breath before starting your tea. A few quick stirs and deep inhales levels you, the feeling of the floor far more solid beneath your feet.

It's only once you draw your bag closer that you stop, tea pressed to your lips and fingers coming across something smooth.

Drawing the folder out of your bag, you stare at the file. It’s worryingly large. Jam packed with stapled sheets and post it notes, paper clips so heavy the top threatens to fold under the weight. Turning it over in your hands, you come to face the case printed on the front before you drop it like you’ve been stung. Your palm burns, recoiling away as the energy that’d started to smoulder diminishes. Still, the title glares from the floor, demanding your attention as it screams.

Case no. 30574208 Head in Charge: Det. Insp. J. Dooley Lumberjack of Motbury Active: 2016 -

It’s not the whole file - but it doesn’t have to be; because you can already see the first name poking from beneath the discoloured card. Can already see the smallest section of a lime green coat littered with tiny frogs, caught in the corner frame of a photograph. Can already feel a painful sting encasing your neck uncomfortably. A sharp pain that shoots through the centre of the back of your skull, harsh and demanding.

You’re on your feet in an instant, circling it as though it’s going to lash out with quick, erratic steps. But it doesn’t. It stays deathly still, like the bodies you’re sure remain buried within it. Just photos, sketches blotched with trauma and cross hatched with wounds while the real things rot in the morgue.

As quickly as you were moving you’re stopping again, cold despite the heat that leaves you suddenly sweltering, skin slick with sweat beneath the numerous layers plastered to your body.

You know what will happen when you pick it up again. It’s going to consume you, you think reproachfully, discarding the offending fabric that has you struggling to breathe, shedding and strewing it across the living room. It’s going to destroy you, just like last time. And just like last time, you won’t be able to help them.

You’d realised what being a detective meant a long time ago, and you’ll never forget. Never be able to ignore the fact that for you to do your job, people had to die. Names had to stack up so you could find the pattern, so you could ram their faces beneath the suspect and hope for some crack in their facade. Hope that one would die covered in stains, or with fingernails chock full of DNA. And when you’d come to rely on a tiny body still clinging to the crime that had seen it taken too soon, you’d been sick. So violently that you’d shaken for weeks. So violently that everything you ate came back up, so you just stopped eating.

And you could feel it. Feel every sharp wound and tattered bullet hole, limbs so restless that you’d wanted to scream.

Never again, you’d sworn, never fucking again would you pray that the next body would be more broken than the last for the benefit of another. You don’t care if one death could save the many. It didn’t fucking matter if that tiny, tiny person held the key to stopping the next body arriving on the coroner’s doorstep; because a life had still been lost. You’d hoped for it, you’d felt it, because it’s what you needed to do your job.

A shock of pain shoots through your scalp as your hand swipes through your hair, the old habits of stress already seeing you pull too hard. Gingerly withdrawing your hand, the clump of hair caught between your fingers is enough to spur you forward. Snatching the file from the floor you toss it on the counter, completely intent on storming into the station and ramming it down Dooley’s throat.

But you stop as it falls open, the photo staring at the ceiling far too familiar to ignore. You approach it as though it’s explosive, peering at the treeline you see outside your window every morning, covered in red markings and arrows. Taking it in your hand, you flip the photo over and read the notes jotted on the back with a falling stomach and burning palm.

17/04/2018

Body, male 10 yo (no. 6). Found 500 meters past tree line. Footprints entering. None leaving. Within vicinity of victim 3 and 5. Wounds consistent. Small incision at base of neck. Lacerations.  

You recognise the handwriting. Jeremy’s scrawl had always been all over your notes, and the later he’d stayed at the office, the worse it had gotten. The curves of his ‘g’s and ‘y’s are clumsy, ink smudging as he’s forced his numb, tired fingers to write down another death. Number 6. And now you have to look, have to see the body that’d reduced him to such sloppy functionality. The body found just beyond your treeline only a week before you’d moved in.

It’s the lime green coat again, tiny frogs leaping across the thick, puffed fabric donned by a smiling little boy. Mousey blonde hair sticks out at every angle, but he doesn’t seem to care, brown eyes wrinkling in delight while he laughs. You don’t want to look at the picture behind it, but you do. Taking in the tiny body curled in the snow, knees tucked into his chest. If he wasn’t wearing the coat, you wouldn’t be able to tell it’s the small boy from before. Tom, you tell yourself. Number 6. Tom.

You’ve seen a lot in your professional career, seen more vile, disturbing acts of violence than many can even dream of existing. Felt them prickle across your skin and scratch in your veins, itchy and raw. But this was more perplexing than it was nauseating, but it’s more certainly both of those things. Because rather than a beaten face covered in blonde and bloodied hair, there’s simply nothing at all.

The neck just… stops.

The wound is there, granted. But it isn’t messy. Blood and gore doesn’t coat the snow, nor does it soil the jacket. But it’s not a clean cut, either. Tattered around the edges, curling, bruised and blackened. Sagging.

And they’re all the same. As you search through the file’s contents you can’t find a single child with a head. Every body found in the same position, curled up as though they were sleeping. Found in the woods directly surrounding your home.

No wonder this place was so cheap to buy.

Curiosity burns intense over your concern, sitting heavily on one of the stools surrounding the island and shifting through the papers. The more you try to understand, the more confusing the case becomes. No matter how many times you fold it over in your head, you can’t comprehend the information you’re taking in. Only able to feel the pinch at the base of your skull, and a terrifying calm that numbs your chest and makes it harder to breathe.

And honestly it sounds more like an urban legend to scare children into behaving, or scare parents into disciplinary action. Because it just doesn’t make sense.

At first, it seems, the police force was inundated with complaints. Petrified townsfolk calling in as a snow storm rages through the night, the sound of knocking hammering against their doors. None dared answer. A group of kids messing around, you assume. And you notice that Jeremy had thought the same. Or perhaps a lost traveller caught in the harsh weather and seeking help. But there were no one there in the morning. Porches untouched by the snow but tattered by something, deep grooves tracing the frames of the entrance with vicious brutality. Camera’s cut out and sensory lights left undisturbed.

And then the trail of death started. Livestock, in the beginning. Bloody, brutal maulings that eventually left sheep with lolling necks and a glaringly absent skull - as though the bone has been sucked from the skin. But what bothers you isn’t the carnage, nor the senseless violence that has an animal killed and unused.

It’s the damage, the aggression once the creature was obviously dead. You can see it; can feel just how frenzied it all was. It’s not the first time, either. Every case you’ve witnessed like this leaves you with only one thought. Passionate, you’d argue. Angry. But the closer the timeline gets to the current date, the cleaner the kills become. Until they stop all together.

And the kids start disappearing.

The first one was just as messy as the livestock. Beaten and bloody, a pile of skin the only remnants of a face. But eventually, even that too disappeared. Like whoever it was, was getting better. Getting into the rhythm.

Your stomach twists, staring down at the file you’ve scattered across your counter.

It’s going to consume you, a small, defeated voice whispers in your head while you collect the pages, taking them to the scanner and copying the file before arranging it back the way you’d found it. It’s going to destroy you, just like last time. And just like last time, you won’t be able to help them.

You head for the car once you’re done, not bothering to wrap up against the cold.

---

The station isn’t fancy, barely recognisable as a place of authority when nestled between the other buildings. But regular shop fronts don’t normally have this many patrol vehicles lined up out front. 2, you correct while your foot meets the curb, only 2 cars. The late night doesn’t both you, and neither does the sterile atmosphere you step into. It’s a small space that offers a short line of chairs before the room is cut off by a reception desk, sliding glass protector open wide. Behind the divide you can see what you assume to be the staff room dotted with couches, and offices and files on the opposite side.

The door shuts gentle behind you, and with it’s quiet click you can hear the frustrated voices approaching the room. You don’t wait for them to arrive and beckon you forward, already moving to the reception and leaning against the ledger.

“I’m serious, Michael,” comes Jeremy’s exasperation through the walls, “I swear I just fucking had the damn thing.”

“Obviously not, asshole,” replies Michael smugly, “otherwise we wouldn’t be turning the station upside down.”

“I don’t get it. I had it at Jon’s, had it when I got into the car…”

“So you must’ve lost it on the way in this morning.”

“But I didn’t do anything else with it!” cries Jeremy, finally rounding the corner with his head hung in defeat.

“You must’ve,” insists Michael, coming into the room moment’s behind him. “If the boss finds out, he’ll be pissed.”

“I am the boss,” Jeremy groans into his hands, oblivious to your presence.

Michael, however notices you, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. “What do you want?”

You go to respond, but Jeremy interjects. “The damn case file before my fucking head explodes.”

“Not you, idiot,” laughs Michael, nudging his superior’s hands from his face and motioning to you. “You’re lover.”

“Gross.” Your nose wrinkles distastefully, as does Jeremy’s when he finally spots you. It doesn’t take long for him to beam, despite the teasing. “Never in a million years.”

“I’m way out of your league,” he insists around a comedic frown, “I’m arguably too good to be talking to you. But I will, because it’s weird seeing you back in a police station and I’m concerned.”

It’s your turn to laugh. “Don’t get used to it. I just wanted to return something I picked up by accident earlier today.”

“If you pull out this missing file I swear Jeremy is gonna fucking come.”

Jeremy’s expression agrees with Michael’s off-hand joke, the file you pull out of your bag seeing him light up. “Oh thank fuck! I thought I’d lost it, I was about to fire myself!” He takes it eagerly, holding it to his chest with a sigh of relief.

“Don’t leave your shit lying around next time,” you scold, “especially something as important and weird as that.”

He’s nodding until he realises the insinuation of what you’ve just said. Even Michael turns to you, the pair studying you critically. “How would you know it was weird?”

You shrug, seeing no harm in answering Michael’s question honestly. “You think I wasn’t going to look at it?”

“You said you’d never look at another case,” says Jeremy slowly, concern and excitement creating a strange, bubbling concoction in his chest.

“I didn’t really have a choice,” you admit ruefully, rubbing the back of your neck. “But it looks like you’ve got a serious problem to deal with. They all look… very angry.”

“Angry?” His brows furrow, casting Michael a quick glance before snatching a pad and jotting the word down. “What do you mean by angry?”

Instead of answering his question you pose your own. “What do you think it is?”

“A wild animal attack, mostly.” Michael grimaces as the words leave his lips, seemingly upset that they have nothing else to go off.

But you’re shaking your head, dismissing the thought. “No way this is an animal.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, more out of curiosity than ill intent, “but who the fuck are you, exactly?”

“Shit,” mutters Jeremy, jumping in before you can introduce yourself. He holds out a hand to you with a broad, proud beam. “This is Detective Inspector Y/N of the L.D. FBI squad. We used to work together, she was my boss.”

“My god.. You’re legendary around here.” Michael’s eyes are wide as he offers out a hand for you to shake, his grip firm and eager. “I didn’t realise you and the woman Jeremy’s been raving about were the same person. I thought you retired?”

“I am retired,” you say flatly. “What’s he been saying about me?”

“Nice things!” interjects Jeremy rather quickly, his hand covering Michael’s face to shut him up. He struggles, grunting and pulling away with a yelp. But Jeremy pays the complaints no more mind, now looking at you intently. “Does this mean you’re going to join the team as an external source?”

“No, I’m sorry Jeremy.”

His face falls. “No no, I get it. I appreciate you bringing it back. I owe you one.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that.” He eyes you up suspiciously, not trusting the smile crawling across your face. “Actually, I know exactly how you can pay me back.”

[aftgficlibrary]

Soulmates

Apparently it was meant to be (Note: this post was long so it for now only includes completed fics. Will be updated when others are completed)

last updated: 31 January 2019

Coming Home by wesawbears (T | 1,235 | 1/1)

Kevin, Jean, and Jeremy are all born with two soulmate marks instead of one. It takes them a while to find each other.

Falls by nekojita for ApprenticedMagician (M |  7,002 | 1/1)

Nathaniel ends up at Edgar Allan/the Nest after all, and what helps him through everything (Tetsuji's abusive demands, RIKO, being pushed to his limits to be the best) is often the dreams he has of the young French boy whose name is embellished on his wrist - Jean. The boy whom his mother told him to never mention to anyone, especially his father.

So what happens when that boy ends up at Evermore one day?

A soul mate/Neil/Jean fic for apprenticedmagician on Tumblr for ATFG_Exchange's winter gift exchange.

Your Face by lanalua (T | 1,464 | 1/1)

Each of Andrew's drawings of his soulmate is different: different haircut, hair color, eye color... That can't be good. 

this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart by giucorreias (Not Rated | 483 | 1/1)

it's the small details

I felt your pain when you were gone byElfo98 (G | 3,533 | 1/1)

Another Soulmate AU where Neil and Andrew can feel each other's pain and how the Foxes find out.

Or: my take on the Baltimore incident because I can't seem to get enough of it.

Paint Splatter Freckles and Godly Go Fishby Issylang for quensty (G | 1,115 | 1/1)

"When Jean was younger, much younger, he would sit in his mother’s lap while she traced the sun on his left shoulder blade and sang love songs in soft French. He would stare at the black heart on her wrist, the one that perfectly matched his father’s, and imagine the little girl that shared his sun. When Jeremy was very little his mom and dad would corral him and his older sister into the living room after dinner. With a child in each lap, they would recount the history of soulmates; how Zeus, in fear of their power, had split the people of earth in half, and they were destined to spend the rest of their lives in search for their other half. How, in a moment of kindness, Zeus had marked the pairs, so that they could follow their symbol to their other half." Just a cute, short Jerejean Soul mate au. 

Marked by beautifulmagick (G | 1,164 | 1/1)

Neil Josten's soulmate mark is on his shoulder. Andrew can never forget that.

Empty Kiss by Leahelisabeth (fortheloveofcamelot) for ApprenticedMagician (M | 1,987 | 1/1)

Based on a Tumblr prompt for an empty kiss.

met you in the dark (you lit me up) byharrytomlinsonwhoops (M | 3,085 | 1/1)

it starts like this:

the elevator doors are closing, and aaron, after seeing one of the cheerleaders inside, doesn't bother running for it.

she holds the door for him anyway. she's got curly hair, and dark brown skin. her eyes are a bright green that he doesn't expect when she stares down at him. she's half a head taller, but he finds that he doesn't mind looking up to her.

"hello," she says, her eyes lighting up, and aaron thinks: oh. oh no.

a memory unrepressed by orphan_account (T | 7,387 | 1/1)

“So, what, you think I’m real, you’re real? That we’ve somehow… I don’t know, astral projected to this place?”

“I don’t know what I think,” Thea said slowly, a strain on her voice as if she hated to admit it.

“Well, the sun is– Fuck.”

“What?” Thea looked around as well, then froze.

There was no sun. There were no clouds. No shadows. It was indisputably light out, as if it were day, but the light seemed to have no source.

Groaning, Dan buried her face in her hands. “What is this, I don’t like it.”

let me love the pain you're going through by MadHatterNO7 (T | 1,526 | 1/1)

Neil remembers his mother saying, "Soulmates don’t exist. They aren’t real. They are a burden that would get you killed."

Neil supposes he knows why.

His mother's soulmate was never his father.

Watermark by fairietailed (T | 4,689 | 1/1)

He hops into the kitchen on one foot, catching his mother before she carries the bowl of peas she’s holding into the dining room.

“Jeremy?” Her eyebrows pull together in concern at the look on his face. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” he says, sticking out his foot. “I think it’s my soul mate?”

--

In which bruises and scars from your soulmate appear on your skin, and Jeremy's skin is a myriad of colored stains.

What are you scared of? by shipsgalore (T | 1,704 | 1/1)

“I couldn’t -- you weren’t supposed to be real. I didn’t think that I would ever have somebody love me, Jeremy. I’m just broken. I’m broken and you can’t love something that’s broken.” He wants to take his hand out of Jeremy’s, to end this entire discussion, but the burning of his nerve endings is welcoming. He wants to feel this every day of his life. 

hard to find by jaylocked (M | 3,199 | 1/1)

Jean has learned to hate the letters on his ribs.

He can remember a time before, back when he still had the sky above him and his future before him, when the letters fueled his insatiable, childish imagination. But then he lost the sky, lost his future, lost his language, and the letters changed.

accept yourself by jaylocked (T | 6,498 | 1/1)

In which Jeremy Knox tries to figure out what soulmates mean in a world of divorced parents, sappy best friends, Exy, and scowling, abused backliners.

My Own by hazelNuts (T | 728 | 1/1)

Andrew doesn't believe in soulmates, so what's the point of having a soulmate mark?

I keep a close watch on this heart of mine by A_Nobelmonster (Not Rated | 839 | 1/1)

Prompt: Andrew and Aaron are platonic soulmates that can feel each others pain.

Pain by ke_xia (M | 810 | /1)

There’d been a point once, when Andrew was a boy, that he’d been told stories of soulmates and had had grand visions of finding his own. Sharing a soul with one person who could feel your pain and whose pain you felt in return- now that felt like true love. And a soulmate had to love you; that was their entire reason for existing. Not like his mom or his dad, whoever they were, nor any number of the foster parents he’d gone through, nor any of the “brothers” and “sisters” he’d had throughout his few years in the system. No, none of them had ever loved him, but there was someone out there, someone who did even though they didn’t even know him yet.

/Graphic Depictions Of Violence /Rape/Non-Con

Exactly by jostenminyard (onceuponahundred) (G | 783 | 1/1)

A soulmate au where all the foxes (minus Nicky). But Neil broke his because its dangerous to love. Andrew broke his because fuck love. Aaron broke his because Andrew made him as part of the promise. Dan broke hers because of the man hating thing. Matt's broke on accident while he was high. Riko forced Kevin to break his. Renee broke hers in the gang. Allison broke hers to piss off her parents and the "I chose this one" thing. Seth broke his because he wasn't gonna let a clock decide his life.

a new kind of grace by starfleetbanana (T | 1,997 | 1/1)

'“You got it wrong, Josten. She keeps me on a leash” She said and left Neil to his own very dramatic and tragic existence.

Allison was fearless and, even though Renee had a soft spot for her foxes, she was deadly and sharp-edged. They fit together like a Swiss knife next to a gun'.

Soulmates AU where they see in black and white until they meet their soulmates and stop seeing colours when they die.

we're here to see the colour grey bystarfleetbanana (E | 2,143 | 1/1)

Neil had grown up sure he was the kind of person who’d never get to see in colour. There were people who spent their entire lives without knowing what colour was like, and he’d already accepted a life on the run wouldn’t give him a chance to even figure out who had made his entire world change.

Soulmates AU where they see in black and white until they meet their soulmates and stop seeing colour when their soulmates die.

when the world turns grey bystarfleetbanana (G | 1,972 | 1/1)

Allison had never seen colour in her life until she'd stepped into the Foxhole Court. But then Seth Gordon died. He’d died and she’d kept dancing in the middle of the dance floor with one of his friends while the colourful lights swirled around them. She’d drunk a blue cocktail and smeared her dark red lipstick on a napkin.

Soulmate AU where they see in black and white until they meet their soulmates and stop when their soulmates die.

with the lights on by starfleetbanana (T | 1,801 | 1/1)

'Medical professionals classify hysterical blindness as “conversion disorder,” a condition that causes you to show psychological stress in a physical manner. While there are many causes of this disorder, most of them point to some type of anxiety or other psychological trauma that triggers this temporary blindness'

'When the haze went away he tried to focus his vision on something more familiar. Everything that surrounded him was a deep shade of black that threatened to swallow him up, and it didn’t take him long to notice he was at Castle Evermore.'

Part of the Soulmates AU where you see in black and white until you meet your soulmate and stop seeing colours when they die.

your crown of thorns holds roses by quensty (T | 4,444 | 1/1)

Three days after he signs his death sentence to Palmetto State, five after Andrew Minyard sends him flying breathless to the ground, Neil's gaze snaps to the locker room mirror and stares, frozen, at the word threat scrawled along his spinal cord in terrifying, heavy bold.

All in all, he isn’t thrilled about the situation this puts him in, but, based off the negative connotation, it isn’t one-sided either. On the bright side, at least this means his soulmate doesn’t harbor any grandeur delusions about him.

Like fields of poppies by A_Nobelmonster (M | 3,340 | 1/1)

Soul mate au . Andrew has always had more dark soul marks than most adults see in their life. He's used to it. Used to a life based on survival . And then he turns fifteen, a red dot appears. the color of a romantic soul mate. Suddenly the thought of living for the person that gave him his mark is the only thing keeping him alive. Just one chance to know the poor fucker meant for him. As usual It's more than he bargains for.

/Rape/Non-Con /Underage /Self-Harm

To die by your side would be such a heavenly way to go by A_Nobelmonster (T | 494 | 1/1)

Short drabble about the beautiful pain of a fictional person made real by his friends love.

/Major Character Death

The Story of My (Loveless) Life byconstellationsofsentences (G | 3,281 | 4/4)

If there's one thing Jean hates more than Riko and the rest of the Ravens, it's his soulmate and their inability to listen to anything but Taylor Swift. Jean thinks his head's going to explode.

starring Jeremy and his basic white girl music.

when the lights go out by flybbfly (T | 1,705 | 1/1)

Neil wakes up gasping in a bed next to Andrew, unsure if in this lifetime they love or hate each other, are meant to murder or save, and Andrew rolls over and presses closer to Neil in his sleep. His armbands, some form of them omnipresent in every lifetime, are poking out from beneath a pillow.

one of many by Saul (T | 2,859 | 1/1)

They first meet in their dreams.

It isn't as miraculous or smooth a transition as the How To Be Fated: A Guide on Soulmates made it out to be.

The mirrors of our skin. by IceBreeze (T | 862 | 1/1)

When night falls, they remind themselves of who they are.

Ask the Messenger by Metis_Ink (T | 32,614 | 5/5)

Jeremy Knox and the soulmate.

Guest starring: Exy, a transfer student, generalized anxiety, older sisters, drunk lesbians, bread, cake, a shed, the beach, the absence of Hennessy, Star Wars, Renee Walker, self-taught smooth talking, gratuitous French, No. 1 Trojans fan Kevin Day, relationship drama, general drama, the power of Friendship, questions, answers, team spirit!, and, of course, romance.

Bleed for you. by IceBreeze (T | 860 | 1/1)

When you meet your soulmate, you get a nosebleed. It makes every meeting messy and leaves little room for subtlety. 

in this world, there's no such thing as soulmates by kwritten for growlery (G | 801 | 1/1)

for the prompt: what disasters we live

Now I'm Covered in the Colors by alaynes (T | 9,752 | 6/6)

Nathaniel Wesninski is six years old when his first soulmate mark comes in. 

A name was just a name until you said it by maeusetod (Not Rated | 5,106 | 1/1)

Andrew Minyard did not believe in fate, but for a moment it seemed fate did believe in him.

Colours by Q_Jem_Bee (T | 2685 | 1/1)

Colours were splashed across your skin at another being's touch: They were the colour of your soul.Neil's was blue, but no one knew that. No one was going to know.

Careful Hands by fairietailed ( M | 13,797 | 4/4)

“You’ll probably never meet them,” his mother said one day at a diner in Texas. It caught him off guard.

“What?”

“You’ll probably never meet them,” she repeated, nodding in the direction of the lilac bruise splashed across his forearm. “Your soulmate. You’ll most likely never live that long.”

“I know,” he said, and hoped that she believed him.

–

In which bruises and scars from your soulmate appear on your skin, and both Neil and Andrew paint each other like a canvas.

/Violence

Crystal Clear by exactly13percent (superagentwolf) ( T | 3,114 | 1/1)

Your crystal is your heart and soul, manifested. You must keep it safe. Neil and Andrew don’t have typical crystals. For one, they aren’t whole. They’re little pieces, broken by years of wrong. But Kevin’s magic shop brings them together, and they figure maybe broken doesn’t mean destroyed.

Marked by justdk ( T | 2,488 | 1/1)

Neil Josten does not believe in soulmates

Empty Kiss (Filling the Void Remix) by Dancyon ( T | 1,604 | 1/1)

Neil sometimes wonders where it all went wrong. (In the quiet spaces between his breath and Andrew’s, he already knows.)

Soulmate au where Neil should really know better.

/Violence

Life After the Fire (The “Like Fields of Poppies” Remix) by Leahelisabeth (fortheloveofcamelot) for A_Nobelmonster ( T | 2,542 | 1/1)

very first touch leaves a mark, a colour on another’s skin, marks of love or hate, family or anger, friendship or lust. Neil is the boy without colours on his skin, with scars instead of marks. All he wants is to leave his mark, to be real, to be remembered.

/Violence

written in the stars by cloudtalking ( T | 2,095 | 1/1)

this is the boy that turned andrew’s world from night to day. the boy that turned shades of gray to blinding colors, and never seemed to notice nor care.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAX!!!!

paint my skin in painful truths by Dancyon ( Not Rated | 1,115 | 1/1)

a world where every time someone touches you, they leave a tiny tattoo that represents you and them and your future. Neil doesn’t remember a lot of good touches, and he doesn’t have a lot of happy tattoos, but with Andrew by his side he thinks he might like himself a little bit more.

This is mostly fluff with some angst, because this is still me.

Black and White until Tonight by booksareourlove for queenofseventeen ( T | 508 | 1/1)

His mother told him colours weren’t real. His mother told him she had never seen the colours of the sky. His mother told him that they were broken. People like them weren’t meant for something as delicate as colours. As soulmates. Colours weren’t real but he would still like to imagine the colours of the sky.

The world is black and white until you meet your soulmate. For some, seeing colour is not like jumping into water, but rather walking through mist until you realise it’s actually raining and your clothes are soaked.

stay as long as you need. by lolainslackss ( T | 2,995 | 1/1)

The soulmate timer counts down to your soulmate’s death. Apparently, Andrew’s soulmate doesn’t have long to live.

in pieces by archieknight ( G | 6,146 | 1/1)

Was it this difficult for everyone, or were they all just so broken that their pieces couldn’t fit the way destiny wanted anymore?

paint my body gold by cave_canem (T | 12,050 | 1/1)

That winter, Jean comes close to his soulmate for the first time in years. He knows this because his side is burning where the mark is branded in his skin. It’s pain unlike anything he’s ever felt: pulsing with his heartbeat and glowing through the skin; almost soft with something like a forgotten childhood memory.

never an empty room by cloudtalking (T | 6,510 | 1/1)

for @kevinyard: a trans neil kandreil soulmate au

soulmate (noun): a person or persons with whom one shares a soul with.

visit (noun): 1. an act of going or coming to see a person or place socially, as a tourist, or for some other purpose. 2. when a soul is stretched thin and snaps closed, causing one to see and be seen by their soulmate

/Graphic Depictions of Violence

A Home, for the Holidays by zen_fox (M | 3,321 | 1/1)

Three Christmases, in the lives of three soulmates.

good game by unrain (T | 1,996 | 1/1)

I don’t like you, but I can’t deny that your shot was a game winner sprawls around Kevin’s throat.

Neil’s words are a fucking joke in comparison. It’s not quite the death sentence that is a simple hi or a hello—which is a soulmark that’s kind of pathetically tragic to have in this day and age, because it just makes everything a trillion times more difficult and is basically the equivalent of your soulmate kissing you goodbye and saying see you never. But Neil’s words are pretty damn close to being that pathetically tragic. If only his soulmate wasn’t so unimaginative and dull.

Speak easy to me by The_time_it_takes (Not Rated | 3,370 | 1/1)

between hoping and believing by cryptidkidprem (T | 47,332 | 16/16)

Jean convinced himself a long time ago that he doesn't have a soulmate. Or maybe he just wants to believe that. Things would be easier if he was destined to be alone. It will at least hurt less when he inevitably winds up that way anyway.

And then there's Jeremy, who's been dreaming of meeting his match for years. For some reason, Jeremy seems determined to convince Jean that sometimes he might actually be able to have the things he hopes for, and that soulmate or no, Jean Moreau has people who will stick with him.

You're a flashlight in a dark room by trubenblack (Not Rated | 1,712 | 1/1)

The foxes in a world where everyone has their soulmates name written on them in their soulmates handwriting and the stories of how each of them dealt with them.

[unrequitedmime]

I run into a hard chest. "Watch it," I snap, stumbling back as I steady the scrolls I hold. "Sorry," The voice is deep and rough. And clearly unapologetic. I glance up and straighten, ready to start a squabble with this arrogant male, and find a startlingly bright pair of green eyes watching me. The gaze is not a hungry one, but it is indeed heavy as it surveys my body, my existence. For a moment, I am taken aback by the intensity of his expression. Shining skin on a beautiful frowning face. Sharp edges and molten gold softness all at once. He is perhaps only a few years older than me, but he holds an air of superiority and knowledge. As if he has seen things people our age do not see in their entire lifetime. A clearly dominant man, with his graceful posture and the entirety of his bulking body. And then his face melts into a grin, and all intensity is gone. "My name is Damion Hander," He nods a greeting, as if bumping into each other consequences an introduction. "I don't care," I move to side step him, but he moves with me. I glance irritably up at him as he blocks my path and grit my teeth. "Can I help you, Mr Damion Hander?" He watches me carefully before speaking, his finger poking the scrolls in my hand, "I was just wondering what these are, Miss...?" I do not give him my name. Only look down at the scrolls, "These," I announce, "Are none of your business." I move to side step. He moves with me. "What do you want, truly?" I snap, done with this little game. He grins again, almost as if he cannot help but find my temper amusing. Seeing a grown man with such a dominant essence grin like a school boy is disorientating, and I have to blink to clear my head. "I want to know your name," He says. Honest. Open. "If I tell you my name will you let me pass?" He shrugs casually, winking, "You'll have to find out, won't you?" I clench my jaw before heaving a small sigh, "Lila." Something washes over his face for one single moment. An emotion that I cannot decipher. Shock or surprise or awe. And then it is gone, and his eyes clear from that strange soft state. "A lovely name for a lovely lady," He almost purrs his words, and I do not fight my snort. I move to pass. He moves into my way. I glare before stepping again, not in the mood. He steps even closer, staring down. I do not move away this time. I felt the shift in his energy; playful to stern. I have a sinking feeling that if I step away one more time he might very well grab my wrist and yank me back. I blink up at him, and he is so tall and large that he blocks the sunlight from hitting my face. He glances around us, studying the lush gardens of the academic court. He seems to watch children play in the distance, and a soft smile twitches at his lips. "Mr Hander," I say very slowly, careful. He catches the wariness in my tone and glances down at me with raised eyebrows. Surprised and impressed that I caught onto the shift in his mood. "Is there anything else I can help you with before I go?" He chuckles, a low and breathy sound, "Miss Lilanna Greevery," He addresses me, and my stomach drops. How he knows my full name, I do not know. But something like fear begins to coil in my gut. "I would like you to help me verify a few facts. First, where were you born?Second, were you an orphan? And third, when did you come to this nation?" Words fail me for one moment. Who is this man? Someone who knows my full name, despite the fact that I have not uttered it to one living person in this country. Dread sits heavy within me.  "I-" I gulp, deciding whether to lie or tell the truth. It is likely he already knows the truth. "Don't lie," He whispers a mocking warning. I have no trouble catching the danger in his smile. I steel myself, "I was born in Hale, was taken in by an adoptive mother at the age of three, and move to Ponda three weeks ago." I gulp, "Who is asking?" He studies me for a long, endless moment. I do not back down from his stare. "You have very interesting eyes," He whispers to himself, "Not Idal bright, but they aren't dull like Ponda's." I blink, "I beg your pardon?" He clicks something into my neck; so fast and swift that I doubt anyone saw him move. My hand slaps to the tender skin there, and I gape at him as my entire world starts to swim in blurry colours. I begin to lose feeling in my body, and I can feel the flow of unconsciousness idly drifting closer. The drug he injected into me stops me from screaming, or fighting, or even panicking. I can only stare at him as my body slowly loses control, and rest my head on his shoulder as he wraps an arm around my waist to hold me up. He does not look down at me. Only checks his watch. "What-" I try to scream the words, but they come out as a murmured whisper. He meets my gaze, and assumes I am asking him about his earlier mumbles. "Your eyes," He clarifies, "They should be normal. But they're brighter, somehow. They shine." Everything goes black. ------------------------------------------------ I wake from my deep slumber with a small gasp. My chest heaves, and my skin is coated in a layer of sweat and grime. Beside my bed sits Rafeal. I flinch when I catch sight of his chestnut waves. When his eyes meet mine, I scowl instinctively, drawing the blanket up around my almost bare chest. Under the thin sheets, I wear nothing but a bra and pants. I could not handle the layers upon my skin. "Rafeal," I almost growl in my daze, "What are you doing in my tent?" He shrugs, his expression still slightly hazy as he finds his way out of my head. "Making sure you dreamt." "Why?" "General Hander's orders." I roll my eyes, slumping back onto my damp pillows. I let go of my blanket when I realise no one is in the tent but Raf and I. I know he does not care for my body. "You gave me that dream?" I croak, rubbing my eyes. "Not really," He shrugs again, eyes on some distant point in the tent, "You already had it in your memories. I just found it buried deep and let it swim to the surface." Silence. I should get dressed and help the medics again. But this is the first time I have slept well in four days. I remain where I am, listening to the noises of the camp around us. "Why that one?" I ask finally. Rafeal is an interesting boy. My age. An Idal of dreams and memories, and a mind that is never in the moment. "Because you were thinking of General Hander," He shrugs. Again. "So I delivered your first ever memory of him." I am quiet. Fair enough. "Why were you?" He asks finally. I frown, "What?" "Why were you thinking of General Hander?" "Because he sent me to sleep, and I was mad at him," I admit reluctantly. Rafeal laughs. A sound I have only ever heard once or twice in the months that I have known him. I savour the music of his amusement. "You're always mad at him." "He truly is an insufferable man," I admit yet again, hoping to coax another chuckle. Nothing. Blank face again. I fight the urge to sigh and roll off the bed. Rafeal does not even glance over at me as I stand in my undergarments. A black pair of panties and a black bra. I put my hands on my hips as I watch him watch nothing. "How are you going?" I ask gently. I know I have a soft spot for Rafeal and his lost mind. Jeremy teases me endlessly for it. "Hmm?" "These past few days," I explain, "How have you been?" "Oh, good." Quiet. I do not move. Do not even feel slightly exposed in front of this man. "What have you been doing?" Another gentle tone. I try to scold myself for being so soft. I am not soft. You do not survive this war by being soft. "Chief Pron has had me staying in the soldier's tents. Ensuring no nightmares leave them gasping for breath." He meets my gaze finally, and does not even notice that I am barely dressed. "He says that after battle the night terrors haunt them for weeks." My heart goes out to all of those soldiers. They have seen more blood and death than any man should see. I nod to Rafeal in agreement, and he turns back to watch the far wall of the tent. I open my mouth to speak, to say something to distract him from his  nothing, but the usually locked flaps to my tent whip open as someone enters. Before I can dive for the sheet, Damion is striding into my tent as if he owns it. "Rafeal," He calls, "It is almost starfall. Chief Pron requests you-" His words sputter into nothing as he glances up and catches sight of me. In nothing but my panties and bra. My entire body flushes with heat, but I refuse to cover myself now like an embarrassed little girl. He raises his eyebrows, studying my nearly naked body and Rafeal's presence. I watch him connect the dots and come to a conclusion. Shit. "Chief Pron," Damion repeats, "Requests your presence in the main bunks." Rafeal nods once before slipping wordlessly from my tent. Damion watches him go before turning to face me. His skin has found it's usual tanned shine, but his hair is still a dishevelled mess. I refuse to look away or hide. I clear my throat as his eyes trail down my body, noting the slim curves and muscles that have developed over the months of training. "How long have I been asleep for?" He meets my eyes, "I don't know, Lila. How long were you asleep for?" I catch the hidden question in his words, and this time I cannot fight the blush that blooms. He watches the rosy red flush through my cheeks. "I was not sleeping with him," I snap, "You are the one that sent him in here to monitor me like some prisoner!" He does nothing but raise an eyebrow, unimpressed, "I sent him in here to ensure you got rest. If I'd known you were sleeping in this attire, though, I would have done the job myself." I roll my eyes and stride for the hooks that hold my clothes, ignoring his usual flirting. He knows I hate the comments. I know that's why he makes them. "You're a pig," I scoff as I pull the leathers on. He shrugs and turns to leave, unoffended and uninterested in the conversation, "I try my best. Once you're dressed, find Jeremy and assemble in my tent." I raise an eyebrow, intrigued, "Why?" He doesn't answer before disappearing from view. I huff. At least I know Damion is back to normal. --------------------------------- "What's up, champ?" Jeremy greets as he enters Damion's tent in front of me. I try not to roll my eyes at the sudden easiness in Jeremy's tone. Damion is two years older than Jeremy and I, but I swear Jeremy looks up to him like a father. Weird. I do not greet Damion as I follow Jeremy into the wide and bright tent. It is littered with bandages, weapons and war reports. Unsurprisingly. Damion is bent over the messy table in the middle, feverishly studying  a list of casualties. When he glances up, his face is a frown of stern control and seriousness. Sometimes I forget that this flirting and grinning male is the General Commander of Ponda's armies. I am so used to his winks and chuckles that I forget he is the second most influential Ponda in the nation. Today he is not Damion. He is General Hander. He straightens when we enter, stretching his back and wincing as his shoulder gives him strife. I freeze for a moment, monitoring the wound for blood before he waves away my worry. "You are both late," He announces. Jeremy shrugs as he throws himself onto the cushions in the far corner, "Lila decided it was a good idea to stop and check up on nearly every soldier we passed." I roll my eyes as I make my way over to the table. Damion glances at me in surprise. "You talked to soldiers?" I glare, "I hate you. Not them.'' He nods his grim approval, "Noted." "Why are we here?" Jeremy calls again. Damion's eyes flicker between me and Jeremy, his gaze so dark I almost cannot see the green. The hardness of his expression makes my spine pull tight, and I stand to attention as I study his serious face. Behind me, I hear Jeremy rise from the cushion pile and make his way over. "What I am about to say it not to be repeated to anyone," He demands, voice unusually harsh, "Are we clear?" I gulp once. Jeremy nods beside me. Damion watches the two of us for a few more moments before letting out a breath, "We are sending you two on a mission." Silence. Shock. Jeremy and I have not been let out of Pron or Damion's sight for months. "You two are the most powerful Idal's with a trusting connection to Ponda." I don't fight my snort, and Damion sends me a heated look. "Don't," He warns me, "You know you possess more power than anyone in this nation." "Doesn't make me powerful," I reply easily, "I cannot use a drop of it." "You healed me," He reminds, "That's a drop. I do not respond. "Both of you know that so far, we are winning this war with the Kinal's. But there have been whispers amongst the camp. Whispers that have been started by the returned prisoners of war," His expression shutters into darkness for a moment, "They say that they have witnessed a growing power in Kinal. They lack the words to describe it, and when they are pressed for more information they simply break down, lost in their traumatic memories of their time in the enemy territory. But from the information we have retrieved," He gulps, "It is clear that Kinal is gathering and hiding a powerful sort of magic. The likes of one that can wipe out entire armies, apparently." The breath is knocked from my lungs in a slow exhale. Jeremy simply blinks in surprise. I gulp, "The people of Kinal do not possess magic," I counter, "How is that possible?" Damion sighs, running a hand over his face, "We don't know yet. We have sent our spies to investigate and find out, but it will take a month for them to gather enough to satisfy." Quiet. "What do you want us to do?" Jeremy asks finally, slightly confused. I am confused, too. I do not understand how Jeremy and I fit into this puzzle of plans. Damion watches us carefully, "We do not have that long to wait for information. By then, there may be another battle. One in which that hidden magic is used and our people are killed. We need more power; enough to rally the secret they will eventually reveal." He is quiet for a moment, "You two have been chosen to find that power." We both openly gape. "How?" Is all I say. "We have..." He struggles for a word, slowly becoming flustered, "We have heard other whispers. Words on the wind that speak of a power deep in the Idal territory." "And you want us to find it?" "I want you to find her," He corrects. "Her," Jeremy echoes before snapping to attention, "You want us to retrieve a girl in Idal that supposedly has enough power to shift this war in our favour? How could she possibly have enough power for something so extreme?" Damion meets my eyes and gulps, "She is like Lila." Oh. "She possesses all of the Idal abilities?" Jeremy's jaw drops, shocked that more than one person can hold so much power in their blood. "How is that... How is that possible? Something so rare cannot possibly happen in TWO bloodlines!" Damion does not take his eyes away from mine, "We don't think the power resides in two bloodlines," He says quietly. Oh. Oh, shit. Jeremy frowns, the understanding not having dawned on him yet. But it has dawned on me, and my mind races. "How do you know?" I croak, "Why do you guess?" He swallows, "We have heard more than whispers lately. Detailed descriptions. Age, appearance, power. We have enough evidence to assume." "Assume what?" Jeremy asks softly. None of us blame him for not understanding fast. He has spent the past three days interrogating our enemies, draining his power with his torture. He has hardly slept, and his mind is working slower than ours. "Assume that this mysterious girl and I share heritage," I fight back the lump in my throat. I hardly let myself consider the possibilities. Damion sighs, "Assume," He repeats, tired, "That this mysterious girl is Lila's sister." Sister. The word barrels through me quick and sharp, knocking every single one of my bones. I whip my head to stare into Damion's steady gaze. Sister. I had not considered that. "There's no way," I breathe, "No way that my parents had two children and abandoned each of us to different parts of the world." Damion does not look away from the emotions shining in my eyes, "It makes more sense to separate powerful children than keep them together," He says softly. He is right. He is always right. Oh, god. "Are you certain?" I force out through grit teeth, fighting the trembling in my body. I have lived my entire life an orphan. No family save for Matilda; the strong and brave woman that raised me. No memories of my seemingly loving parents, or any siblings. I had not even thought of siblings. Damion hesitates before nodding, "I do not know about the others, but I am." I release a slow and shaky breath. Damion is certain. That is all I need to know. "Okay," I nod slowly, indicating my belief of his words. Jeremy watches me carefully, something like an amused smile twitching at his lips. I remember his words yesterday, and mine. I clench my jaw and ignore Jeremy's searching gaze. I stare only at the General Commander. "When do we embark on this mission?" Jeremy asks finally, turning to Damion with a serious and determined expression. Damion runs a hand through his hair and releases a long sigh, "Pack your bags tonight. You leave at first light." -------------------------------------- I stare into the woods surrounding the camp as Jeremy talks to Pron behind me. It is so cold I can feel it in my bones, but the light shining through the trees is soft and warm. I do not say a word as soldiers pass across the border of camp, travelling on their own missions. Sister. Sister. Sister. Warm and callused fingers find my chin and lift my face up. I let Damion move my head and stare silently back at him. His green gaze searches my eyes closely, as it always does. I am reminded of the first time I met him, and his words whispered in my dream the night before last. He was fascinated by the shine of my eyes. I wonder if he still is. If every time he looks into them, he takes a moment to appreciate the colour of the light brown depths. "Two weeks," He reminds, voice hard and stern, "That is all you are gone for." I gulp, my chin still in his firm yet gentle grip, "What if we don't find her by then?" His eyes are a stone wall, "Then you come home." Home. Not the war camps. Him, and Pron, and Rafeal, and Sapphire. I guess they are my home now. I barely nod. He does not let go, and just keeps studying me. I watch him. A very strange man. Damion has trained me in combat for the past few months. He has also worked closely with Jeremy and Sapphire to summon and bring forth the powers that lay dormant within me. I spend the most time with him and Jeremy, and each of our lessons are long. I have argued with this man in front of me more times than I can even begin to count, and I do not remember the last time I was genuinely enjoying myself around him. Damion, despite his personas of control and power and youth and joy and cockiness, has a delicate way of rubbing me the wrong way. His words ignite sparks in me no matter how hard I try to fight my temper, and I think he is more used to my snarled voice than any other sort of tone I use. But sometimes, sometimes there are singular moments of calm between us. A deep and unending sort of calm that settles every thought in my mind and the restless buzzing under my skin. These powers that lay within me do not unleash themselves upon the world, but that does not mean they are silent. The powers make my skin tremble more hours of the day than I am awake. They swim and rumble and buzz just beneath the surface. Damion is the only one that can make it stop. And as we stand there in the cold of the dawn, with the sleepy sun shining through the trees and catching alight in his yet again messy hair, my body becomes quiet. The restlessness ceases. I refresh. "Stay safe," His voice is quiet, "Stay low, stay hidden. Be fast." I cannot help myself from asking, "Why?" He watches me for one more moment, as if memorising something before he steps back. His hand falls away from my skin, dropping almost uselessly to his side. "Because," I can tell he forces the grin to his face. He is worried for us. The General Commander of the Ponda armies, worried for two orphan Idal's. "I'm not sure how long I can last on just the memory of you in your undergarments," He croons, "I will need you back to refresh the image as soon as possible." I know he is joking, but I reach out and try to punch him anyway, "Pig." He catches my hand before I can make contact with his arm. Just as Jeremy and Pron turn to us. He holds my gaze for one moment before letting my fingers slip from his. I shiver. From the cold. "Ready?" Jeremy breathes, bouncing on his heels to fight the morning frost. My Jeremy is back; the one full of light and joy and movement. I do not know where the darkness has disappeared to. I tear my gaze away from the General Commander and his green eyes, "As ready as I can be," I sigh. "Let's go find your sister, then." And we set off. After twenty feet, as we reach the edge of the surrounding forest, I cannot help but halt and glance back. Damion and Pron remain on the edges of the war camp. The Chief Leader of a nation and the General Commander of Ponda's armies ignore their duties for a few brief moments to watch us disappear into the woods. Even from the distance, I can see the green of Damion's eyes. As I turn back around and disappear into the forest, I realise that the leaves above remind me of his deep gaze. I do not glance at the ground for the rest of the walk.

unrequited 

[karamelsecretsanta]

This is dedicated to Nicole @kaiho. Happy Xmas my darling, if this isn’t what you had imagined, drop me a message and I will write something more suitable J 

--  @chelseaellie

AU Kara and Mon-El never kissed in ep 8, and they are friendly but nothing romantic has happened, cannon to Ep 7. Alex and Maggie are dating, as are Lena and James.

8888

Late December, the trees had long since shed their leaves and the darkness of winter had started to draw in. Alex was loved up and busy with Maggie, and Kara felt as if she was adrift slightly. Everyone was partnering up and Christmas was coming, she was happy for Alex, and happy for Lena and James with their new romance.

But felt so lonely missing her family more at this time of year. Missing her aunt, and her home. It was a lonely time of year.

So she flung herself into her work, both jobs. Longer hours, taking all assignments. It kept her busy however today Kara was frustrated it was a quiet day in CatCo. Well a quiet day in National City, not even SuperGirl was needed, so she was left to edit the horoscopes. She sighed deeply, and looked at her pile of notes. Madam Nicole was a highly rated psychic, every newspaper wanted her on their books, but she was a nightmare to work for. Her columns were always written in short hand and needed a lot of explanation.

She had been working on the corrections for 30 minutes when she realised she needed clarification and decided to speak to Madam Nicole. Grabbing her note pad she decided to brave the psychic.

Madam Nicole was a pretty young girl, dark hair and green eyes, calmly dressed in a black knee length dress, and kitten heals. Kara had expected bright colours and an older woman, a little eccentric. She was anything but. She was as normal as any other young woman.

“Hi. Just poof reading, but I’m not sure what you mean by this?” Kara asked. She was nervous, but wasn’t sure why. She had braved Snapper, and Cat, and survived, anyone else was simple.

“The famous Kara Danvers” Nicole commented in an almost sing song tone, smiling a charming smile, “I’ve heard so much about you” she looked Kara up and down.

“Thanks, I think” Kara responded with a sense of nervousness she rarely was subjected to.

“You are unsure to believe my powers” Nicole tilted her head, “you are lonely, your sister is in a new Romance, her first, you are scared that you will never find a love like that. Scared that she will forget you, as you are not true blood. She won’t, there is a bond with you, greater than that if blood.”

“I don’t know” Kara confessed

“You are scared to love, you lost too much, too many people, places, you feel as if your world was destroyed, as though nothing you have will ever last.”

“I guess” Kara pretended to be indifferent yet felt unsettled, everything was too true to be a guess.

“There is someone for you, your soul mate. The one person who is perfect for you. You already know him, your own Prince Charming, when the clock strikes 11 on the 24th you will understand. You will know when he gives you a gift of something from your childhood. Trust how you feel in that moment, don’t second guess yourself. You need to live in the now. Grey is the colour that matters”

“Ok, thanks I think” Kara had no idea what was happening, cryptic clues for something she hadn’t asked for. She smiled falsely and walked away.

8888

She walked home, her head full of what had been said. No idea about what Madam Nicole had told her, she was happily sceptical of this type of thing, and more so now. But the possibility of a guy that she could be paired with was interesting. She was struggling to think who it could be. She discounted J’onn and James right away J’onn as he was her boss, and James because he was dating Lena. Winn, well he was like a brother, but nothing more, there was Steve in IT, he was sweet but a little geeky, David, Chris and Jeremy in the combat teams, they were nice guys. Was she just thinking about this because of something that was suggested?

Almost in a daze she walked into the DEO, Winn, Dana and Mon-El were looking at a monitor and laughing. This was normal, Dana had always been very interested in Mon-El and often made excuses to be close to him. Kara was surprised they hadn’t started dating, relieved but surprised. She wasn’t sure why she was relieved.

“Hey Kara” Beamed Mon-El noticing her presence and she smiled at him and went to join them.

“What’s up?” she always enjoyed their company.

“Winn was trying to work out if Father Christmas had a space ship with transporting powers if that was how he delivered the gifts” Dana explained as though this was a normal consideration.

“Is it normal for one person to monitor all people on the planet?” Mon-El asked

They all looked at him

“Well if he knows if everyone is naughty or nice, he must monitor everyone” the Daxamite queried innocently.

“It’s not quite like that buddy” Winn raised an eyebrow, trying to judge how to answer him.

“What’s it like?” asked Mon-El looking very innocent and childlike, Kara felt a wave of affection, remembering how strange she found Christmas her first year.

“More a threat to make kids behave” Winn confirmed.

“Just as well, as surely naughty and nice is subjective” Dana shifted slightly closer to Mon-El looking him up and down, “Kara thinks you are naughty, I know you are nice” she winked and walked off. Kara stood slightly open mouthed at the clearly flirtations comment.

“Dana has a thing for you” Winn laughed, softly punching Mon-El’s arm.

“Well as we say on Daxam, the more the merrier” he laughed slinging his arm around Winn, Kara just watched them. Bemused as to how the boys had bonded, they were pretty inseparable these days. Often found after work having a kick about in the park or playing computer games, or in a bar attracting female attention. A slight pang of jealousy surged over Kara, Winn was meant to be her best friend and Mon-El was her mentee. She should be the focus, yet was rarely involved with them. She looked sadly as the boys laughed and walked off.  

88888

Reaching the steps to the training room, she felt a familiar arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to him.

“So fancy some sparing? I’m pretty sure I can take you”

She turned and smiled at Mon-El, bemused “I don’t think that will ever happen” she winked, mischief glittering in her eyes, but pleased that he was spending time with her.

“If I win you have to come to help me get my Secret Santa gift”

“And if I win?” she replied

“What do you want?” he smiled slightly seductively, but he used that smile on all females he wanted to persuade.

“You have to wear a Christmas jumper that I pick to work tomorrow, and it will be a bad one”

“You are on Supergirl” he chuckled, “But I’m winning” he winked at her with a playful look.

88888

Kara landed on her back with an almighty thud, shards of concrete sprinkled over her like snow. She tried to shake the dust from her hair, but Mon-El pushed her to the floor and pinned her down. She squirmed under him, but couldn’t push him off. She was frustrated, something was clearly off. Any other time she would have beaten him without a seconds thought.

He beamed looking down at her, a twinkle in his eyes, “So will you admit defeat Kara Zor-El”

“Urrr” she grunted, trying to wiggle away, but his legs pinned her to the floor and he held her arms above her head, “No”

“Well we could be here a while” he matter of factly stated.

“I will get out of this” she insisted, not sure she really wanted to, she was having fun.

“Well while we are stuck lets chat, I will tell you all about festivals at the Great Palace of Daxam” he moved slightly to be next to her ear “Or you can accept I won” he dropped his voice so it was soft and husky.

She shivered slightly, their sparring was often physical and close, but this was new, it felt more intimate. She realised how much she missed that, or longed for it. His breath on her neck felt nice, his smell, the weight of him pressed on her. She hadn’t realised how lonely she was, and hoped that maybe Madam Nicole was correct, her soul mate was close. She sighed deeply and he looked sadly at her, then jumped up and held out his hand. She eyed him curiously.

“Let’s call it a draw. I get it, you don’t want to be beaten by a Daxamite, or go shopping with me. I won’t make you”

“No it’s not that!” she was horrified that he thought his race was a problem, though considering their past it was clearly on his mind. “I just have a few things I’m thinking about, I don’t care where you are from. I want to go shopping with you, I don’t get to be human much”

“So you accept that I win” there was the trademark Mon-El charm, the poor Earth women she thought, no wonder he seduced so many, if she was not immune to his charms things could be bad, but she was immune, or at least she told herself she was.

“Yes you win” she chuckled, and grabbed his hand, she kicked out at him and pulled him to the floor, he landed in a pile next to her.

“Cheat” he laughed, turning to face her, a bemused smile lighting up his face. She smiled back at him, wishing she could meet someone like him.

“So who did you get in the secret Santa?”

“Your sister”

“Oh, I understand why you need my help”

8888888

Kara was shaking her head at the baby pink dress Winn was suggesting, it was the 4th poor suggestion he had made, while Mon-El was transfixed by the many options for bath products. The poor boy looked scared, it was hard enough for men to navigate the art of Christmas shopping for women, but an alien having only been on the Planet a few months shopping for women was daunting. Winn suggested another pink item of clothing, and Kara looked bemused, enough was enough time to rescue them. She linked her arm through Mon-El’s and dragged him over to the book section.

Half an hour later they were sat in a little coffee shop out of the way of the main hustle and bustle, drinking coffee and the two aliens had a few slices of cake in front of them. Winn was proud of how much they could eat.

“So we must be close to finishing” Winn sighed, “How is any of this fun, all these people buying cheap rubbish that will never be used. Ignoring that Christmas is just about being with your family and friends”

Mon-El looked at Kara and smiled “Do you remember the festival of ummm, I can’t remember the word for it. Was midwinter, when it was dark and cold and your people used to celebrate family and friends, would have meals and invite the lonely to our homes. I know you celebrated it on Krypton as well because I was there when I was about 7 and visiting. I had kicked up such a fuss about missing out, it was my favourite time of the year, and I was so cross that we were off world at that time. But we arrived there and they were celebrating, and we had treats around a fire, and games and ate and played, it was the best time of my life”

“Oh I remember it well, would make gifts from nature for those close to you, and share with those who had less” she bit her lip remembering fondly.

“One big happy family” Winn gushed wrapping his arms around the pair of them, who exchanged confused looks

“No more Egg-ogg for you” Mon-El declared

“Nog, EggNog” corrected Kara wrestling the remaining liquid from Winn, whose grip was very tight when it came to food he wanted.

888888

A few days later she was relaxing in the break room at the DEO looking at the tree, which was decorated by Jenna and Clara two of the younger admin girls. They had been all excited about Christmas and had persuaded J’onn to have a department tree. He agreed mostly to stop them bugging him, but on the proviso that anyone was welcome to add their own decorations. There were a few sprinkled amongst the well planned colour coordinated blue and silver design. These made her smile, pictures of children, hand drawn animals, painted pine cones. She missed home, missed her family, she loved Alex and her adopted parents but there were moments when she missed her family.

“Hi” Mon-El said softly, almost too softly that she didn’t notice

“Hi, are you ok?” Kara looked at him, he looked shyer than normal, less confident

“Well, I don’t really understand Earth customs, so I hope this isn’t out of line”

Kara raised an eyebrow, “I don’t understand Earth custom some times and I have been here 13 years, I’m sure is fine”

“The other day when we were talking about our childhoods I thought we needed something to remember home by, so I found this for you” he handed her a small box wrapped in silver sparkling paper, smiling shyly. She hesitated and they gazed into each other’s eyes for a matter of seconds, it felt like forever, she nearly stopped breathing. He shook the gift slightly edging it more towards her.

And just like that the trance was broken, and he was nervously holding out his hand. She smiled and took it. With that he shoved his hands into his pockets and glanced down. The unwrapping felt like it took years, as she nervously opened it. Inside the neat wrapping was a plain white box. Kara felt cheated, something else stood in the way of this gift. She eased it open, and beamed.

Inside the box was a glass blown red star, with gold flecks, and slight swirls of colour. Kara was rendered speechless. Tears formed in her eyes.

“I’m sorry” Mon-El stuttered “I just wanted a connection to our home here, I didn’t mean to cross the line”

“You didn’t” she smiled, “Its perfect. Thank you, it’s the most thoughtful gift I ever received” She hugged him pressing close and savouring his scent. He wrapped his arms around her. She felt comfortable and safe. Then they sprung apart, looking slightly shell shocked, hugging wasn’t their normal behaviour. “Thank you, I know what to do with this” and she floated slightly to the top of the tree to place the star on the top. She landed on the floor and looked proudly at it, sharing a thankful smile with Mon-El. She was about to talk to him when Alex appeared.

“Hi Kara, are you ok?” she asked looking at her slightly tear filled eyes.

“I’m happy, look” she pointed to the star, “It’s from Mon-El to remind us of home, the star Daxam and Krypton shared” and she glanced around to see he had gone.

“That’s sweet, he’s a nice boy” she looked at Kara again, “are you sure you are ok?”

“Just feeling a bit lonely, you have Maggie and I wish I had something like that, and I met a psychic who said I would find my soul mate on Christmas Eve”

“Kara you know better than that” Alex shook her head, Kara was always the more sensitive of the two of them.

I know, just wonder what it would be like, to find a love like you and Maggie share.”

“You will find someone when you least expect it” and she pulled her sister in for a hug. They stood there arms around each other, thankful for finding each other and the bond they enjoyed.

888888

Christmas Eve

The season of goodwill had clearly hit National City, it was peaceful. Normally Kara would be restless, but this time she was very excited about Christmas, more so by the pile of gifts under the Christmas tree at the DEO. Secret Santa had been very successful, and there was a huge pile of gifts waiting to be collected. In reality Kara’s hyper level passion had meant most people were scared to collect their gift until today. She was known to scold anyone who tried to claim theirs early.

The break room was filled with festive snacks for people to have during their shifts, aware than a full sit down meal was unlikely with the nature of their role. Kara was acting as Father Christmas and handing out gifts of chocolate to each staff member. As much as Alex had told her to forget about what Madam Nicole said she couldn’t forget it, and was using this as an excuse to check out all the men at the DEO.

As the shifts ended people left to be with their loved ones, a Skelton crew would cover Christmas day, with everyone doing a maximum of 4 hours to allow them to spend some time with their friends and family. So the gifts started to filter out as did the staff. Kara had narrowed it down to David, Charles or Steve, all were single, relatively handsome and she didn’t hate their company.

She was sat at a table with a cream covered hot chocolate and Alex who had a plain black coffee.

“You are not still thinking about that Psychic are you?” Alex sighed after five minutes of silence, which felt unsettling given Kara’s normal chatty excitement.

“UMMMM no” lied Kara.

“You are, Kara Danvers, you have a serious tell when you lie” Alex chuckled, she loved her sister, but she was a terrible liar.

“No I don’t” she protested pointlessly.

“Oh you do” Alex chuckled, “Mon-El, Winn, over here” she shouted at the two boys who were looking for a table.

“Hey” Winn smiled, “What’s up?”

“Does Kara have a tell when she’s lying?” Alex teased.

The boys laughed “She has a crinkle in her forehead” Mon-El smiled softly.

“She really does” Winn gasped with amusement.

Kara glared far from impressed.

“See everyone knows when you are lying?” Alex responded “So ‘fess up”

“Grrr, I guess I am a little more hopeful, it would be nice to find my soul mate” she was resigned  to this being public.

The boys looked confused by this statement.

“Kara saw a psychic who said she would meet her Prince Charming today, so she’s on the lookout” Alex explained.

“Prince Charming?” questioned Mon-El still was struggling with Earth culture.

“Her perfect match, different to your Prince, this isn’t a real Prince, mostly a good guy who she falls in love with and who saves her.”

“Ok” nodded Mon-El not really understanding, “Princes on Daxam were real, and tend to marry anyone my Mother decided they should marry, didn’t really save anyone” he still looked a bit unsure.

“We are not on Daxam, and the Prince isn’t here, thank Rao” Kara replied ignoring the clear slip in comment he had made.

“Yes, just as well, see you around” and he walked off uncharacteristically short in his conversation.

Alex and Winn looked at each other with clear interest. “I’m going to follow that up!” Alex stated bluntly as she walked after him.

“Good call” replied Winn, “So Kara who are your options?” and he slumped in to a chair, luckily she was too focused on her love life to pick up on what Mon-El just said.

“Well I think it’s between David, Charles or Steve. They are all nice guys, but…”

“But?” what Winn asked watching her reaction.

“But I don’t have feelings like I should for them” she protested

“So are you just considering them because some psychic told you that you would meet someone?”

“I guess so”

“And had the psychic not said anything what would you be doing? “

“I don’t know, teaching Mon-El about Christmas, hiding the alcohol from Alex, teasing you about something” she smiled fondly.

“So let’s do that, if you were meant to be with any of them you would know them more than you do, so don’t force things, let things happen naturally”

She nodded and smiled, he drew her in for an embrace. She sunk into him. “You are such a good friend” she smiled into his neck, he pulled her closer. Winn was like the brother she always wanted.

“I know” he chuckled, “Let’s find your sister and find out if we are having Christmas with a Prince”

Kara looked at him, and her eyes opened in shock, “NO NO NO NO NO, he’s not!”

“I’m sure we will find out soon” shrugged Winn. Having been suspicious of his friend’s heritage for a while, a few slips and his behaviour was not what he expected from the guard to the royal family. Yet he had never pressed to find out as it didn’t change who he was now.

88888

Alex was stood on the balcony, lost for words. The cool winter air had nothing on the chill between her and Mon-El.

“So you can see why I never said anything, plus now it’s not really important, my planet is gone, my family are dead, who I was 35 years ago is nothing” the was a defeatism in his voice she had never heard before.

“Do you not think harbouring the Prince of Daxam could put us in danger? If someone wanted to kidnap you?” she attempted a scolding tone, failed because of her empathy and compassion for the lost Prince over powered her wrath.

“Not really, none of the Aliens in the Dive Bar have recognised me, I’m assumed to have died on Daxam. Kara is the closest to anyone from our galaxy. She had no idea who I was. They are looking for someone in their 50s or older. I have powers, I’m stronger than most people on this planet. It’s not a problem”

“Ok, J’onn may disagree but he can have that conversation with you” she conceded, now was the time for emotions not practicality.

“Look, I like your sister. Really like her, she’s pretty and kind and inspiring, but she hates my people, she hates my family and she hates me. The first thing she did when she learnt I was from Daxam was to attack me and lock me in a cell, accusing me of a crime. Once we got past that I explained how I escaped Daxam, and said the Prince saved me, and she used that as a reason to insult the Royal Family, my family, but my saviour in the story I told. No matter what happened I would never live down her perceptions. I like being part of your group, being friends with Winn, and you. I have no family, and you made me feel welcome. As long as I was just a guard, you welcomed me, so I stayed just a guard. I like being normal, or as normal as an Alien with super powers can be. I made friends who liked me for me, not because I was the Heir to the Throne. I got to do things I never had a chance to do. I get it, it was fun while it lasted” he was defeated, the new life he created on Earth was everything he longed for on Daxam, he never asked to be the Prince, or picked the family into which he was born, this was the life he wanted. Real relationships.

“Look Mon-El, I understand, just wish you felt you could be honest earlier”

“Yeah, me too” He took a deep breath, “For what it’s worth, I liked being a normal guy, I got to be who I wanted, not who I was expected to be. I am sorry” He walked out past Kara and Winn, with his head down and tears forming in his eyes.

Winn ran off after him. Kara sank to the floor in shock. Not sure what to think or how to process this.

“Kara are you ok?” Alex looked worried

“I don’t know” Kara shock her head, “I don’t know” as her sister hugged her close.

8888

Winn sat next to Kara, he waited in silence for a few minutes, then decided to say his piece.

“Look Kara, I don’t know Daxam like you do. I don’t know Krypton like you do, but I know I have met one Daxamite. He’s probably my best friend, kind, loyal, supportive and does everything to try to be the best person he can. Yes he started off a bit of a frat boy, but he’s far from that. I have meet a few Kryptonian’s not the nicest people, they tried to mind control the whole city into doing their bidding. I know you, you are everything that is good, loyal, kind, caring and compassionate. If I was to take what I knew or heard I would avoid you, but I knew you first. My dad killed people for revenge, I hid that, I hid it from everyone I didn’t want people to know who I was in case they judged me from what he did. Mon-El is the person you fight-flirt with most days, the person who gets you drunk and the person you team up with because you trust. You can judge him on stories, or what you know.”

He stood up and walked away

“I don’t flight flirt” she stropped, not sure if he was trying to upset her or not. Not sure why this was the thing she decided to pick up on.

“Oh you do, you smile and glow around him, don’t let this get in the way” Winn walked out of the room, leaving Kara to wonder if she really flirted with Mon-El, no way was that possible, she tried to convince herself. He was a friend, nothing more, just a lost Alien like her.

88888

Xmas day

Kara arrived for her shift, the original plan had been for her J’onn, Mon-El and Winn to cover a few hours at lunch time and then have their lunch after. The events of the night before still hung in the air, Kara and Mon-El had not yet spoken. He was giving her space. Winn was conflicted between the two friends. There was an air of tension, Mon-El sat at the computer terminal watching as scans processed and came back clear. She walked in and walked past him, and went to the break room. Her stomach churned feeling a little unsettled.

“Hi Kara, can we talk?” Mon-El caught up with her, slightly less composed than normal.

“I’m not sure that’s a good plan” she stated trying to move away from him.

“Because of who I am and where I’m from?”

“Yes, I’m not sure I can ever be alright with that” she snapped.

“I understand, I’m sorry. Thank you for everything you did for me. Im just sorry I wasn’t born on another Planet.” and he walked away with purpose. His words hung in the air surround her for a while.

888888888

Under the tree were a few lonely gifts not yet collected, she gathered them up to put them on each person’s desk. In the mist she spotted a small box, wrapped in red shiny paper, with her name on the gift tag. She was confused, she had already received her Secret Santa gift, it had been a tasteful light green jumper, she assumed from Kevin in accounting, it looked like what his wife wore.

She picked up the box and took it to a table to open it. Curiosity overwhelmed her. It was a 4 inch  metallic circular disk, and a post-it in on the middle saying press here. After waiting a few minutes she decided to obey.

An image appeared in hologram form, taking a few moments to complete. It took up the whole of the table. As it crystallised she realised what she was seeing images of Krypton, her red sun and Daxam, and all their moons. They danced around each other in orbit. Her eyes watered. She hadn’t noticed until the tears dropped to the table. She felt content, and adored.

“He had that made for you, has been organising it for months, it took a while for us to work out how to make Earth technology work with what he wanted” Alex was stood in the door frame. “He was going to give you it at midnight”

Kara looked sadly at her, not needing to ask who he was. “I was a bit harsh wasn’t I?”

“I don’t think there was any ‘a bit’, he is the person you know, you laugh and smile with, but you made it clear to him how you feel” big sisters know best and Alex was smugly proving this.

“What if I was wrong?” Kara trembled

“Tell him you are sorry, you are fire and passion, and when you calm down you see things more clearly, you know who he is, you always have. You know what matters, you know what to do”

There was a rush of wind and Alex realised Kara had gone, she smiled finally Kara may see what she and Winn had known for months.

88888

Mon-El was pacing in the corridor. Replaying everything in his head, maybe he should have told her earlier maybe he should have pretended it was a mistake. This was all such a mess. He paced uncomfortably.

“So you are a Prince” Kara suddenly appeared in front of him, eyes slightly red from the tears. He misread this as anger.

“Yes,“ he replied sadly, turning slightly away from her.

“THE Prince?” she accused attracting his attention.

“Yes” he dropped his eyes from hers and swallowed nervously.

“I’m so sorry….” she started

“You are sorry?” he questioned looking up and confused.

“Yes me, please hear me out.” He nodded as she carried on. “I was cross when I first heard that you were not who you claimed to be. But I realise that part of how I acted towards you created that situation. I have never treated anyone like I treat you, everyone else I give a chance to prove that are not who they are perceived to be. But I locked you away because of where you were from. Yet I fought to defend others less worthy of a chance. I judge your family from hearsay and stories I heard as a child, and I am ashamed. Worse that, I know better. You are not the person I heard stories about. You are incredible, and caring and brave. But most of all you are my friend. Just over a week ago, I meet a psychic who told me that I would find my soul mate. I took that to be a new boyfriend, but I think all the clues are about you, Prince Charming. Well you are both a Prince and can be charming. That grey would be significant and you have the greyest eyes I have ever seen. That he would give me a gift of my childhood and I should trust how I feel in that moment, and your gift was something special”

“How did you feel in that moment?” he asked nervously. Fiddling with his fingers.

“Like I couldn’t not have you in my life, in some form, I needed to let you know you matter to me. I don’t care who you were” she looked up into his eyes, unaware that whilst speaking she had been stepping closer and closer to him, there were inches between them if that. She could smell the coffee on his breath.

“You matter to me as well” he smiled, biting his bottom lip slightly, as she realised she had been staring at his lips. The alarm on his watch beeped, and he glanced at it. “Eleven, time to set the scans”

“Don’t go” she almost whispered, he looked at her quizzically. She pointed to the ceiling, “Mistletoe.” Then moved in for a kiss, brushing his lips with hers. Wrapping her arms around him, he returned the favour once the shock passed, their lips parted to deepen the kiss as they tasted each other, there was more urgency. Her fingers were in his hair, trying to get as close to him as she could. He returned the favour squeezing her tightly towards him. Then his back hit a wall, as they tried to stabilize each other. It made them pause and laugh. Neither was sure who was more surprised.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this at work” he chuckled very aware that this was not normally accepted behaviour.

“You are right” Kara flushed slightly, “Stay at mine after Xmas dinner so we can carry on with this” with a cute wink. Not sure she could wait that long, wondering why she hadn’t realised that she cared for him earlier.

“If you can control yourself that long” he teased, walking off to start his scans. She caught up with him and slipped her hand into his, intertwining fingers. She smiled at him.

“That’s going to be a challenge” as she leant up to place a kiss on his lips. Which he gratefully accepted.

 88888

Madam Nicole, smiled at the image she was viewing via her crystal ball, and sprinkled glitter over the ball. “Ah True love, maybe I was a few hours out”

“A few hours is far from a problem” Alex hi-fived her

“On to the next couple who need a wake up” Nicole stated and she covered the crystal up, and ticked off a list. Shutting her case she revealed her wings and flew away. Alex smiled “Happy Christmas Kara” she whispered 

[thetwoplayergays]

Kind and Goofy

I thank (and blame) @pixletta for this. This is based on a short story they gave me and I just- 

ENJOY

Au where your world is black and white until you kiss your soulmate

Jeremy had always thought of his life as simple. For years he only had to focus on three things: his music loving best friend, his obnoxious teenage bully and the love of his life - the main ingredients for a teenage boy. He had grown used to the black and white surroundings he had grown up in. However this all changed when he got the Squip. 

 The little computer in his head was adamant on him becoming more than his nerdy persona. He insulted him, manipulated him into getting what he wanted and soon Jeremy found himself rising above his ranks. He was talking to the popular kids, he was wearing more fashionable clothing and his once teenage bully was not practically his best friend. All he wanted now was her - his soulmate.

But apparently, that was too much to ask. 

 "What do you mean it might not be Christine?" Jeremy questioned his Squip out loud in his bedroom where no one else could hear. His dad had gone out to get groceries (thankfully with pants) so the house was his for the time being. 

 "I'm saying," the CPU stated, taking his physical form over to the end of the bed, "that soulmates are not the result of science, therefore I am unable to calculate who the particular human will be, given that there are roughly 7,500,000,000 people roaming the Earth at this given moment. It is very unlikely that your soulmate is Christine." 

 "But it has to be!" Jeremy interjected. "Soulmates have a bond, and I can feel that bond between us." 

 "You don't even know her Jeremy."

 "I don't need to! When I close my eyes, I can picture us together, and we're happy. Whenever I see her, I just want to kiss her and tell her how much I love her. I want her to tell me how much she needs me... I want to know that I'm her favourite person." Jeremy was soon lost in his own daydream and failed to notice that the Squip had suddenly taken interest. 

 "Jeremy, what kind of things would you like to do with Christine?" He asked curiously. 

 "Like dates and stuff?" Jeremy thought for a moment. "Nothing special, maybe stay at home in her room playing video games..." 

 "Video games?" 

 "Yeah," Jeremy chuckled. "I bet she would be great at Apocalypse of the Damned..." The Squip tried not to slap Jeremy.

 "Anything else?" He asked begrudgingly. 

 "A movie date would be nice! I bet she would be totally into those really bad action movies. I can see us now, sitting in an empty movie theatre sharing popcorn and laughing at the obvious CGI effects," Jeremy chuckled to himself. 

The Squip decided it would be best not to mention his once weekly movie nights with Michael. 

 "And what about music?" 

 "I don't know, Christine probably likes a lot of music. Maybe..." 

“Bob Marley?" The CPU suggested in the most bare tone of voice he could manage. 

 "Yeah... Bob Marley..." Jeremy sighed happily, staring off into the distance whilst his computer companion tried to recalculate his IQ. 

 "Christine's not your soulmate." He stated, snapping Jeremy out of his daydream. He turned to glare at the physical form of the computer. "Well how do you know?" 

 ------ 

 Christine wasn't his soulmate.

 "I don't understand Micheal!" Jeremy cried, head in his hands and knees curled up to his chest. "I was so sure it was her..." 

 "Hey cheer up buddy, there are plenty of fish in the sea. I'm sure you'll find them one day." His best friend tried to help as he sucked on a pale grey lollipop, sitting in the beanbag opposite Jeremy. The tall boy had barged into the basement a couple of minutes ago ranting on about his date with Christine. He, of course, was happy to see Jeremy after such an uneventful day, but hated that he was in such a state. The date had obviously not gone well and Micheal tried to feel sympathy for the boy. Deep down, he knew Christine wasn't going to be Jeremy's soulmate. The two barely knew each other when they started dating and Jeremy had put her up on such a high pedestal that he was blinded from seeing the other person in his life: Michael. The boy who had been watching Jeremy for years now trying to find a way to accidentally kiss him and confirm his longing. But despite how hard he tried, Michael knew he wasn't what Jeremy wanted. He had accepted that long ago. 

 "-and then I kissed her and nothing happened! Nothing! We stared at each other for a few more seconds until she broke the silence by kissing my cheek, apologising and walking away... everything is still as dull as ever Michael..." he groaned, curing up into a tighter ball, pouting. Michael had to resist the urge to kiss him right then and there. 

 "Come on bro, I'm still here. Aren't I the light of your life?" He joked, causing the sad boy to burst out laughing. He turned and met Michael's kind and goofy eyes.  

"Of course Michael, you're my favourite person."

 ------ 

 "You want me to do WHAT?" Rich fell over laughing, whipping the tears from his eyes. Jake also began to snigger. Jeremy's face had blown up in shade, no thanks to the added effects of the alcohol in his system. The clear darker shade of grey plastered his cheeks. Michael, who was sitting beside him, was trying not to die. 

 "Dude that's mean," Jake tried to say but wasn't taken seriously as tears had also began to form from holding in his laughter.

 The group were all sat in an empty bedroom somewhere in Rich's house. He had offered to host the annual Christmas party as Jake's family were still trying to find a decent place to stay. Jeremy was adamant on the whole group attending, despite Michael's complaints. He eventually managed to convince him on the condition that Jeremy would not leave his side all night. His word was kept, but it backfired when Rich and Jake invited the two to play truth or dare in the spare bedroom. Michael tried to voice his concerns but the excitement on Jeremy's face killed his complaints. 

 So here he was, trying to stay conscious because Rich had just dared Jeremy to kiss him. 

 "I- I can't! He's my best friend!" Jeremy rambled, eagerly looking for an excuse. 

"Oh come on Jerry, what are you chicken?" Sniggered Chloe. Jeremy tried to protest but was only stammering up a storm. Michael turned his attention from his best friend to his grey hoodie and took in a deep breath. 'I'm going to regret this'. 

 Confidently, he sat up straight and turned to face Jeremy. 

 "What's the matter Jer? This hot piece not good enough for you?" 'I shouldn't have drunken that beer' 

 "Ooohh someones confident tonight." He heard Brooke wolf whistle. "Don't want to keep him waiting Jeremy." 

 Jeremy's attention was now fully on his best friend as he made a face as if to say 'what on earth do you think you're doing' Michael didn't respond though, he only held his head in his open palm and smirked. It was cute to see Jeremy all flustered. Of course, he didn't actually expect him to go through with it. He just thought it was cute.  

Perhaps, deep down, he knew Jeremy would crumble. 

 "...fine," was all the warning he was given before Jeremy cupped his cheeks and smashed their mouths together. The action earned a soft squeak from Michael, muffled by their lips. No more than a million second later Jeremy pulled away and hid in his hands, refusing to look at his best friend.

 'HOLY SHIT I CANT BELIEVE I JUST DID THAT MICHAELS GONNA KILL ME WHAT AM I EVEN MEANT TO SAY TO HIM I CAN NEVER SHOW MY FACE AGAIN-' 

 "Shit..." 

 The soft curse was enough to snap Jeremy out of this mind long enough to hear someone running out of the room. He instantly knew who it was and Jeremy shot up from the floor. 

 "MICHAEL NO PLEASE IM SO-...rry?" Jeremy slowly looked around the room. He could see the dark purple of the bed covers, the bright blonde of Brooke's hair, even the painfully obvious red streak in Rich's that was previously just a shade brighter.

He could see colour. 

 He had just kissed Michael. 

 Michael was his- 

 "Yo dude," Rich's voice broke through as his hand came up to his shoulder. "I don't quite know what's going on, but you might wanna go after Michael before we have another bathroom fiasco." 

 Jeremy didn't need to be told twice. He bolted out of the spare room and into the hallway. He winced at the sudden change of colour but forced his eyes towards the crowd of teenagers down the stairs. 

 There. Opening the front door was a boy with brown hair and headphones dressed in a brightly coloured hoodie. Despite not knowing the colour, Jeremy could recognise that shade anywhere. 

 Jeremy burst through the front door and ran out into the cold crisp winter night. He found Michael sitting down on the grass, watching the lights of the neighbourhood twinkle. Carefully, Jeremy joined him - a few meters away. When Michael turned to face him he closed his eyes shut up and winced, expecting a slap from the boy. Instead, he got a soft chuckle.

 "Man, I don't even know what that colours called but it looks horrible on you dude," he laughed softly pointing to Jeremy's Christmas jumper. He looked down and saw a horrible shade of green and burst out laughing. The two boys fell onto the grass, laughing up a storm. Soon a calming silence fell between them. 

 "I'm sorry," Jeremy heard Michael whisper.

 "What for?" 

 "I know you didn't want it to be me," came the reply. "You wanted this perfect girl, smart and kind and goofy and... not me." Jeremy watched as Michael sat up and continued to stare at the Christmas lights of the house opposite. "Your Squip was right to block me out, he probably knew..." he chuckled to himself. "You deserve better." 

 "You're kidding right?" Jeremy cried, flying up to meet Michael. "All this time, I wasn't just picturing this random girl! All those stupid dates I came up with, the compliments, the nicknames... I know now," he locked eyes with Michael and smiled sweetly, a slight blush creeping onto his face. "I was thinking of you." 

Michael's face instantly blew up. Jeremy recognised the colour from his hoodie, he had already decided it was his favourite. 

 "You... can't be serious..." Michael said, muffled by the hand covering his face from embarrassment. Jeremy gave a soft chuckle. 

"Well in normal circumstances I don't think I would have imagined my soulmate listening to Bob Marley." 

 "NO WAY!" Michael cried, bursting into laughter and tears and Jeremy couldn't help but join in. The two sat there laughing until Michael looked up and tackled Jeremy into a hug, pushing both boys onto the ground. When their laughing eventually quietened, the two boys locked eyes with each other. Michael smiled. 

"You always were my favourite person."

[chasingxprongs]

A small (I say small) Jily drabble for @ofmanyworlds, mainly from James’ POV, based on Perfect, by Ed Sheeran. If you haven’t listened to that song, you need to, but please enjoy if you so choose to have a read. 

I found a love for me Darling, just dive right in and follow my lead

James Potter had never been afraid of Hogwarts. Never worried about making friends, about if people would like him, if he’d fit in. Because he knew he would. Simple as that really. He already knew he could fly. Already knew he’d have no issue learning spells. Why would he? His dad was the best wizard in the whole world and his mum the best witch, it just made sense that he would be too.

He didn’t expect to be surprised at Hogwarts. He’d spent years listening with an awestruck expression has his dad told stories of Gryffindor pride. Of red and gold, of lions and bravery. He’d listened as his dad explained Gryffindor loyalty and being there for your mates no matter what.

So James Potter knew he was going to be popular at Hogwarts.

He knew he was going to be Gryffindor.

What he didn’t know. What he hadn’t expected. Was to fall head over heels in love with a red headed muggle born who sat next to him at the welcome feast.

At eleven, in all his eleven-year-old, wise glory. He was one hundred percent positive that Lily Evans was going to love him the way he so obviously loved her.

“I’m James.” His hand shook with hers, hazel eyes meeting a green so bright he was sure it must be some kind of magic.

“Lily Evans.” Came the response and James thought even her voice was pretty.

“That’ll be Potter one day.” His voice was devoid of the surety that would come in a few years. The bravado and the confidence of a bloke who knew he was attractive to women. Right now his voice held all the optimism of an eleven-year-old who was sure he’d just fallen in love.

“What’s that supposed to mean?’ She was affronted, her eyes flashing in a way that James felt was still pretty. And he didn’t understand. Was confused by her. This wasn’t what happened when his dad charmed his mum. This wasn’t how girls had ever responded to his dad and he was just like his dad. He was going to be exactly like him.

“I uh—” He broke off, confused and out of sorts. Out of words for once. He chose instead to point at the boy currently making his way over to the sorting hat. “Ha! Look at that Greasy Git…bet he’s gonna be a snake.”

If he’d been unsure of her before, he definitely was now. As she turned to him, green eyes flashing with an intense anger unlike anything James had ever experienced. Almost like she hated him, in that moment. Except, James knew that couldn’t be true. Nobody hated him. That wasn’t how it worked. He was a Gryffindor!

“That Greasy Git, is my best friend.” Came the retort, as Lily made to stand and James could only stare at her in horror. “…and he’s a much better friend than you could ever be. He doesn’t insult people before he’s even met them properly for one.”

With that she was moving, across the table, not sparing him another look as she applauded for her friend. James thought maybe his heart was broken there and then. Or it would have been, if he wasn’t eleven and easily distracted. As Sirius Black was joining the table and James knew with all his eleven-year-old wisdom, that they were going to be best mates.

Who needed girls anyway?

Well, I found a girl, beautiful and sweet Oh, I never knew you were the someone waiting for me

“Oi Evans!” James’ voice rang through the hallway, Sirius’ laugh echoing beside him as he chased after the red headed witch who was steadfastly ignoring him.

“Are you gonna make me beg?” He sighed heavily, shooting a wink to Sirius, before he turned to the rapidly gathering crowd of snickering students. “Ladies and Gentleman, you’re about to bear witness to the broken heart of James Potter…”

“A weekly occurrence!” Sirius chimed in, and James happily gave him the finger. 

“He’s not wrong in his harsh assessment of my life.” James wiped a none existent tear from his eye, turning once more to Lily. Lily who wasn’t laughing. Lily who was standing, white faced and furious, knuckles white where she was clutching her books to her chest.

“Stop it.” Her voice was a harsh whisper, a hiss filling the corridor despite its lack of volume and James had to stop himself from wincing at the hatred inside it. “If you really think embarrassing me in public and pressuring me to go out with you is the way to go about it, then I look forward to hearing about your many divorces!”

She turned then, footsteps echoing down the corridor. Kids parting to let her pass, as though her fury was contagious. As though it was going to jump from her skin and infect anyone who passed. But James knew that wasn’t true. He knew that anger was reserved solely for him and for some reason, this time he didn’t enjoy it.

He should have finished his performance. Should have continued with Sirius to act out the broken heart of James Potter. Make his constant rejection into a joke that he controlled. Because it was easier that way. It made more bloody sense to have people wonder if he was serious, if this was actually a crush, or just a prank.

A prank at the expense of Lily.

He didn’t bloody want that. But he didn’t particularly want to be constantly bloody rejected either.

“Evans wait!” He was running after her, not bothering to shoot a grin or a wink at those he passed. Not bothering to hide the fact that this was no longer a joke. That she was pissed off and that he fucking hated that. Wanted to fix it. “Lily—just wait a bloody minute alright?”

She stopped. Not bothering to turn towards him as forced himself to come to an unexpected stop.

“I uh—I’m sorry—for embarrassing you.” The words felt foreign on his tongue, weird and stilted. He didn’t generally apologise, not when you could just turn something into a laugh instead. “…I didn’t think alright?”

“You never do.” She turned then, a little more colour on her cheeks and despite the fact she wasn’t looking at James how he wished she would. She was so fucking beautiful; it still took his breath away. “You never think. Which completely baffles me considering you supposedly have a brain rattling around that enormous head of yours.”

James frowned, unsure if he was being insulted or complimented…which was the story of his life with Lily Evans. But she didn’t give him chance to answer, seemingly on a role now she’d begun.

“Your band of merry men might find you amusing, or your penchant for humiliation to be charming…but I do not. Will not.” She shook her head. “Be more than that. Or would you prefer to be an arrogant toe rag for the rest of your life?”

He was more than that. Knew he was more than that. Could be more than that. She’d put him in a box he didn’t want to be in. Yet maybe he’d closed the bloody lid on that box. Maybe he’d locked himself in there and she was giving him a way out. He didn’t know, he was no fucking good at metaphors, but it seemed to be working for him.

“…so you wanna go study for Charms?” His olive branch was there, held out with a grin and a subtle wink. An invitation. A sacrifice. To be him. Alone. No performance. To do what she liked to do.

She paused, as though considering and James held his breath. 

“I’m going to study. If you happen to be in the library also, then I suppose I can’t stop you from sitting at the same table.” Her reply was succinct. Cold even. But James could see through it, could see the smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. Could see the subtle flick of hair as she turned.

It was a challenge. To prove himself. To prove he was more than what she thought. And a challenge he was ready to fucking win.

“So Evans, you don’t fancy a quick snog in the restricted section then?” He asked cheerfully as he jogged after her.

The smack around the back of the head was fucking worth it.

“…stop talking Potter.”

I will not give you up this time But darling, just kiss me slow, your heart is all I own And in your eyes you're holding mine

“Oi…mini puff, it’s midnight…you need to get your little arse to your common room.” James yelled down the corridor, ignoring the exasperated sigh from Lily next to him as the eleven-year-old froze, weirdly trembling as he stared at the two of them.

“Hey kid…it’s not that far past curfew, we’re not the bloody Aurors…despite my fantastic badge of never ending authority.” He tried to lighten the mood, glancing at Lily in confusion before nodding to his head boy badge gleaming on his chest.

“I’m—I’m sorry—I—I was in bed but I—there was a letter…” The kid was stammering, trembling where he stood and James looked to Lily who was studying them carefully. It was new, this job. Lily had been a prefect the year before but James hadn’t. The only perk to this job was the extra time spent with Lily. Lily who was finally fucking dating him, finally letting him take her out and sneak into the kitchens for a picnic in the middle of the night.

Lily who was fun and daring. Lily who continued to shock him every day.

Lily who still hadn’t let him bloody kiss her. Never mind all the other shit he wanted to do. Preferably without clothing, but he was an easy going kind of bloke…he could make amendments to his extravagant plans.

“Jeremy, what letter did you get?” Lily was speaking softly, her head tilted to the side and James marvelled that she knew the kids name. That she was able to sound so soft and reassuring whilst still exuding that air of authority.

“Well my—my dad he—there was a mark above the house and he—my mum said he didn’t—he didn’t…” He was crying then, sobs choking the poor boy as his whole form shook with the force of them and James didn’t give Lily a second glance as he moved toward him.

“We get it kiddo…you don’t have to keep explaining.” He was pulling him into a hug before he’d considered his actions, filled with a righteous anger that this was happening, a renewed sense of protectiveness that seemed to always exist within him. “Lil? Go get Sprout won’t you?”

He didn’t give much thought to anything but the situation at hand as he heard Lily’s footsteps trail off down the corridor, arms wrapped firmly around the sobbing boy. It wasn’t awkward. Didn’t feel awkward. It couldn’t. The world was a terrifying fucking place at the minute and he didn’t have the capacity to feel awkward about comforting a young, terrified kid who had just lost his dad.

“Don’t let this break you—don’t let ‘em do that kid.” He murmured softly. “Cry, fucking cry all you want, but don’t let them take your hope alright?”

He pulled back slightly, holding the hiccupping kid by the shoulders as he met his eyes.

“They took your dad, but they don’t get to take anything else from you. You’re a Wizard and you belong here, just as much as any fucking pureblood. Don’t let them take who you are as well…d’you hear me?”

There was an answering nod, and James simply sighed and pulled him back against him, the polite cough causing him to look to the side where Lily stood, eyes brimming with tears, Professor Sprout by her side.

“Come along Jeremy…come on love, let’s get you some tea and see if we can get your mum here.” The professor was talking, Jeremy running to her, her arm around him as she led him away. But James only had eyes for Lily. 

Lily who was looking at him like she never had before. Lily who was walking towards him, trembling hands cupping his face and all he could do was stare at her. At this new side he’d never seen before. The vulnerable side. 

“…I didn’t think you’d ever prove me wrong James Potter.” She murmured softly, and James could only swallow heavily, his heart pounding in his chest. “...but you’re more, you’re more than what I thought.”

And as hazel eyes met answering green, as his arms wrapped securely around her waist. He knew that he always wanted to be the kind of bloke who would draw that look from her eyes. He wanted to be the kind of bloke who deserved everything she was fucking giving him.

He didn’t speak. Couldn’t think of words big enough. For once. Could do nothing except to duck his head, lips pressing against hers easily. As though they fit, as though they were meant to join together like this.

James wanted to kiss Lily Evans for the rest of his life.

Had every intention of it.

Well I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know She shares my dreams, I hope that someday I'll share her home

James was breathless, completely overwhelmed as he closed the door to headquarters behind them. They needed to find the others. Needed to have a proper mission debrief, but with the adrenaline still flowing through his body, James could focus on nothing but the amazing woman by his side.

“Bloody hell Lil, you were something else out there.” His voice was low, unable to hide his complete awe and devotion as he surveyed his girlfriend calmly hanging up her jacket.

“Did you expect anything less?” She wasn’t fazed. Voice filled with a teasing humour that James bloody loved. 

His girlfriend was something else entirely, something completely fucking unique. Just when he thought he had her figured out, just when he thought they might finally be on even footing. She’d surprise him. She’d send him spiralling down a path of love and devotion he couldn’t escape from.

He was a goner for Lily Evans. Always had been.

He couldn’t focus on anything but her, couldn’t control it as he backed her up against the door. Eyes on her he watched carefully, watched as her eyes darkened with lust, a small smirk curving into the corners of her beautiful lips.

“Marry me.” His voice was muffled, buried in the skin of her neck, pressing hot open mouthed kisses against the familiar expanse. He wasn’t paying attention, hands either side of her, bracketing her in. Where he wanted her. But best of all, where she wanted to be.

At least she usually wanted to be here. Usually liked it when he shoved her up against the wall. Usually slipped her hands into his back pocket, pressed him closer in a crude imitation of what they both really wanted to be doing.

But not now. Now she was pushing at his chest, her words stern.

“James Potter. Stop.” He pulled back, eyes confused as he stared at her and he could only wait for her to explain. “You are not going to propose to me like this. I expect to be proposed to properly.”

He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped at her words, hazel eyes alight with mirth as he felt the box he’d been carrying around for weeks in his pocket. He finally had one up on her, finally had a way to show his love that she didn’t expect.

“Bloody hell Lil, y’know you’re not supposed to direct your own proposal don’t you?” He shook his head in mock disapproval as he sunk to his knees, holding a hand up to still her as she opened her mouth. “It’s not your turn to talk yet…lemme get it out before you start dishing out instructions yeah?” He reached into his pocket, pulling out the box, a familiar cheeky grin spreading over his face as he did. “Had it for weeks…I was waiting for the right time to ask y’know? But I uh—I don’t reckon there’s ever gonna be a more perfect time, cause whenever it happens…that’s gonna be the perfect time y’know?”

“James…” Her voice was breathless, unsure and nervous in a way he fucking loved. Because it meant she trusted him with that side of her. Trusted him to see her vulnerabilities.

“Nah…this is my time to talk now alright? Lemme ask the question before you answer…follow the rules Evans.”  He winked, shaking hands opening the box as he held it up to her. His mother’s ring nestled comfortably inside. 

He took a breath, stealing himself to sum up some words. The right words. Words they’d remember. But he didn’t have any. He didn’t have words big enough to encompass everything he felt for Lily Evans. Everything they were and everything they were going to become.

Nobody had words for that.

“Lil…I’m not asking you cause we’re at war. I’m not gonna sit here—well kneel here—and say that I wanna marry you now cause we might not get much more of a forever. Cause that’d be a cop out.” He shrugged. “I wanna marry you cause you’re a bloody nightmare Lil. Cause you’re stubborn and proud and I can’t fucking breathe as soon as you walk into a room. I don’t wanna marry you because of the war Lil…I wanna marry you in spite of it.”

His voice was thick with emotion as he met her eyes, those beautiful fucking eyes that were bright with unshed tears. And he didn’t have the nerve to try and figure out if that was good or bad.

“You’re it for me Lil…this love, this is it for me.” He shrugged, as though it were that simple. Because it was. Because to him, it was fact. 

“I know you don’t put much stock in soul-mates and all that shit and neither do I—almost failed bloody divination didn’t I?” He shook his head. “But I reckon I believe in one great love in your life, and you’re it…every stubborn fucking inch of you. I wanna spend the rest of my life making you slowly learn to hate me.” He joked, before shaking his head. “Nah…but I wanna get old with you. As old as we get…as long as we’ve got.”

He winked. “…so what do you say Evans? Finally, wanna become a Potter?”

I found a love, to carry more than just my secrets To carry love, to carry children of our own

“What do you mean she’s not been bloody hexed?!” James’ voice echoed in the small room at St Mungo’s, his footsteps following not far behind as he paced furiously. “Of course she is—she passed out! She wouldn’t faint for no bloody reason!”

“Mr Potter…we found no trace of dark magic in the diagnostics we ran and –“

“Then run them again!” The poor healer was trying his best. James knew that. He knew that even as he froze, turning his furious, panicked gaze on the flustered man in question. He knew his anger was directed at the wrong people. Knew that they were doing a job and they were doing it well.

He knew they were doing their best. But this was his wife. And their best wasn’t good enough when it concerned her.

“Mr Potter—”The healer began again, and James couldn’t even remember his bloody name, so he simply held up a hand instead.

“No. Run it again. And if you can’t bloody do it, then find me someone who can.”

He hated it here. In the hospital. The familiar robes, the smell, bringing back memories of his dying parents. It hadn’t been very long ago. Not long enough to be back here. Never long enough to be back here fretting about the person who got him through it. His Lily flower, his rock. The woman who had sat with him outside their hospital rooms. The woman who had told him he was allowed to cry. The woman who had promised his mum she’d take care of him, that he’d never be alone. That had promised him too.

His everything.

“James…” She was speaking from the bed, her voice unsure, fragile in a way it never was. Her eyes red rimmed from where she’d evidently been crying before he’d got her. He couldn’t fucking stand it. Couldn’t cope with the fact she’d been alone and scared in this room and he’d been at the fucking pub with his mates.

“Lil…it’s fine. We’re gonna figure this out alright?” He approached her then, perching on the edge of the bed as he took her hand. “He’s gonna run the tests again—and if it doesn’t work—then I’ll fucking pay someone else to. It’s gonna be fine, you’re gonna be fine…I’ve got you.”

His words weren’t reassuring her, those captivating eyes brimming with tears once more and James didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know how to reassure her, felt as though he was missing a giant piece of the puzzle.

“James—you’re not listening.” Her voice was thick with emotion, a lone tear escaping but she didn’t take her hand from his. Didn’t scold him any further, and James knew that was testament to how scared she was feeling. “They can’t find any trace of a hex because I haven’t been hexed—I—“

She broke off, head nodding towards her stomach, the tears falling thick and fast and James could only stare at her. Could only clutch her hand that much tighter as his heart drummed violently in his chest.

“I’m pregnant James…we—we’re having a baby…”

It should have been joyous. It should have been a time to be excited. But James understood her tears, understood what this meant, what it was. They were young. Too young anyway. Too young for people living a normal, happy life.

But they weren’t those people. They were people fighting a war. A violent, bloody war. A war where people died everyday, where they lost friends and family faster than they gained them. A war they had glamorised. A war where they didn’t feel like brave Gryffindors anymore, because the reality of it, the gritty, dangerous reality wasn’t the brave lions marching into battles they’d all imagined in school.

“Say something…James—I know this isn’t ideal…” Her words broke his heart, the fragility in her voice, in the way her fingers were laced with his. Knuckles white as she held on for dear life. 

It killed him.

His brave Lily. His stubborn, perfect Lily, was terrified because they were going to have a baby. Because they hadn’t been careful. Terrified of telling him, of his reaction and he couldn’t bring himself to let her down. Knew that right now was his turn. His turn to be strong for her, his turn to swallow the fear and get ready to be the husband and father he needed to be.

The one his parents taught him to be.

“It isn’t ideal…” He spoke carefully, extracting his hand from hers before he gently slid it under the white sheets covering her body, resting protectively against her abdomen. “But I love you and you love me—and we’re gonna love our baby Lil. We’re gonna love them and we’re gonna keep them safe.”

His own eyes were brimming with tears as he leant down to press a kiss against her lips, soft and loving as he whispered against them.

“We’ve got this Lily flower…”

When you said you looked a mess, I whispered underneath my breath But you heard it, darling, you look perfect tonight

James grinned as he threw Harry into the air once more, the resulting babyish giggle making his heart fucking melt once again. He was turning into a right sap, embarrassing really, how much he loved this tiny human being. How he could spend hours just watching him, listening to him, wondering how he’d managed to get so lucky. How he’d managed to create this baby that needed him.

“…you’re going to make him sick if you carry on.” He turned at the familiar voice, the fond amusement betraying her stern words as his eyes caught sight of his wife in the living room doorway. “I’m certainly not going to be the one getting up with him when he’s sick in the night.”

James snorted, tossing Harry into the air once more, as he shook his head. “Did you hear that Squirt? Your mum doesn’t wanna wake up for you…don’t worry kiddo, I’ll make sure to report this neglect.”

He paused, pressing a kiss to the chubby cheeks before placing him on the ground as he shot a wink towards his wife. “…you’re the one who was force feeding him chocolate frogs Lil.” He shrugged. “Reckon I need to get myself some legal representation at the blame placing taking place in this marriage.”

“Two chocolate frogs James…and I wouldn’t exactly call it force feeding.” She shook her head, arms crossing over her chest and James couldn’t help how his eyes lingered on her form.

But fuck...she was beautiful.

Even now. Exhausted, her face free from makeup, hair loose around her face, the evidence of sticky little boy fingers amongst the familiar fiery strands. She looked even more beautiful than she ever had. There was a light in her eyes, a glow he couldn’t explain and didn’t want to. Explaining it would mean she was capable of being described, that she was someone who fit the mould that words would push her into.

She didn’t.

She didn’t fit any mould. She was one of kind. Made for James as he was made for her. She was bloody perfect and that’s about the only word he’d agree to be used to describe her.

“Don’t pout Lil…” He murmured, advancing on her slowly, a teasing predatory gleam in his eyes. “Besides the fact it’s technically a holiday and frankly bloody illegal to be pouting…” He paused, arms wrapping around her waist. “…besides all of that, you know what it does to me.”

He pulled her towards him, her body flush against his own. A perfect fit, moulding against him like the missing puzzle piece fate had been so kind to provide them with. His breath was hot against her lips as he dipped his head, kissing her easily. Slow and deep. Familiar. As though they had all the time in the world, years to do this. Forever really. However long forever was going to be.

James could kiss her forever, could continue to lose himself in the feel of their lips moving together, her arms around his neck, nimble fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He could spend forever memorising her taste, drinking her in, because it would never be enough. There would never be enough of her. He would never be done.

Unfortunately, little hands were finding their way to the hem of his trousers, an indignant squeal indicating that Harry, like his dad, didn’t appreciate not being the centre of attention. So he laughed, pulling back with one final press of their lips, glancing from the two of them fondly.

“…Happy Halloween Lily Flower.”

[oppositeheartsstory]

Chapter 1: Wedding Day

It’s a 7 a.m. in a Spring Sunday morning. The weather, fresh, after a mild rainy night in London.

Two men in their late 20s are in bed together. Both in their pyjamas. The one on the left side of the bed, both eyes wide open, thoughtful in a mixture of feelings between excitement and anxiety (of course, it was his wedding day and not being with his partner made everything feel strange since it’d been a while since the last time they didn’t sleep together). He was decently tall and fit, his eyes had a subtle combination of green and brown, dark brown hair with pronounced receding lines. His features were that of a southern Italian but he always said: “I’m Venezuelan born with Italian roots, and English soul”. 

The man on the right side of the bed was deep in sleep. This one, as English as tea: he was tall, mildly shabby, light brown eyes, light brown hair and white skin. He offered to stay the night as to fulfil his”best man” duties and distract Niccolo (the man on his left) in the case of an “overthinking” crisis that he would be bailed on.

Niccolo would take a glimpse to his left and see how David would be in deep sleep, making him smile in amusement. It was funny because David was a caring mate, although his laid-back personality would sometimes get in the way, giving the opposite impression; but Niccolo had learnt how to go along with it as his soft spot for England, and the English people themselves, would be stronger that his obsessive personality that had caused damaged in previous friendships. David, in return, would be patient for a man who was moody, as Niccolo was a man full of emotions, making him a rather intense human being.

The long staring would wake David up, which was not Niccolo’s intention since it was a sense of love instead of anger.

“Good morning”, Niccolo said with a cheeky smile. His accent, pretty English or as some would describe “boarding school accent”. He was surprised even the English would think his accent was posh. His family usually made fun of the way he spoke for sounding “too classy”.

“I overslept, didn’t I?” said David in a sleepy voice.

“Not quite. It’s just 7am”

“How are you doing?”

“I’m dead excited because I...am getting married”, Niccolo ended in a squeaky voice. One that would come every time there was a massive sense of excitement taking over him.

“I’m just going to start getting ready”, Niccolo continued in the squeaky voice as he got up swiftly. 

��How are you doing, by the way?”, Niccolo continued casually as he remembered he forgot to ask

“I’m good.”, David said in a more awake voice.

“How do you think he is doing?”, Niccolo said with a sudden change of mood. One that was of concern.

“Yep. Time to start my best man duties”, David said as he got up. 

“I’m pretty sure that he is fine. Jeremy is with him and I haven’t heard from him. So I’m pretty sure everything is cool”.

“You are saying pretty sure”, Niccolo added with a dramatic sense a lot.

“Nick, Stop thinking and start getting ready”, David said in a mockingly threatening voice as he said it slowly. 

David and Niccolo would have a fun relationship. It was a balance between jokes, overdramatic impressions, being funny and every now and then getting lost in deep conversations. David was a straight man but Niccolo’s straight-acting personality was what would give him confidence to be mates when he first found out Niccolo was gay and since David hand’t had any gay friends, he would be sceptical at first, but the more he got to know Niccolo, the more he realised there was no way Niccolo would fall in love with him, which resulted in a bromance neither of them could live without. David would later realise,since Niccolo was gay, he was the perfect wing-man. This would usually backfire with his straight mates as they ended with the girl he wanted in the first place.

Niccolo would start making breakfast and start getting everything ready, he was like a machine, mostly when anxiety took over him. David would only make small talk to get him distracted as it made him feel he was helping.

Going three years back, Niccolo was a pretty lonely man. Making friends was not easy as the company he worked for was packed with people whose lives were sorted (married and with kids), not to mention being 26 at the time, made it harder to connect with those whom he could tell were at least 15 years older. Most of his friends lived abroad as England was the country he chose to move to with no previous history and attending social events would not make it easy to make friends past the day. Niccolo recurred to the dating apps as he hated the gay scene. Not that he had not tried it but it was an environment that made him feel “regular” world.

A dating match on the day Niccolo was attending a table game event would keep him distracted, paying more attention to his phone than to the games, which was funny since he criticised the people who did that but having a match that would keep the conversation going was something he hand’t experienced for months, and as the last one resulted in a terrible heartbreak, Niccolo was more than willing to keep his focus on having a boyfriend rather than making new friends. Niccolo was “the boyfriend” kind: the one who would like to dedicate himself to one person instead to a group of people. 

The man he chat with was younger, 23 years old to be more precise, and cute looking. He seemed to be charismatic by the way he sounded on text but Niccolo knew that he may not be like that in real life.

“Have you had many boyfriends?”, Niccolo wrote this man called Daniel.

“I have had some but my relationships haven’t worked out because I am usually more delivered than they are. They are too selfish”, Daniel replied.

A massive sense of satisfaction took over Niccolo. Someone who would make a comment like that would have to be kind, he thought. 

The conversation would keep going all day until the night when Daniel said: “Would you like to go out for coffee?”

Niccolo was extremely excited. Going out as soon as possible was something he desired to avoid creating a different man in his head, but he didn’t want to make the first move to avoid coming off too strongly and scare Daniel away. 

 “What about having lunch?”, Niccolo said.

“Perfect”, Daniel responded.

“I’m really looking forward to it”, Daniel said.

Niccolo was excited, to the point that he didn’t sleep that night. He woke up early to clean the flat in the case things worked out and they ended there. Niccolo was not into hookups but a sense of sexual anxiety would make him feel that he would take a chance if it was given to him to see what all the fuss was about.

Getting ready was fun as Niccolo would wear a shirt with different tones of red, brown trousers, a red V jumper and a black jacket along with a poor boy hat that he thought made him look cool. 

Niccolo and Daniel were set to meet at London Bridge station as it was closer to both of them. Niccolo was on his way when he received a text from Daniel saying he was already there which was perfect since Niccolo was early as well.

Niccolo arrives the exit of the London Bridge station looking for the Daniel. Passes a man who seems to be him but writes him from a different side to avoid the awkwardness of asking a stranger if it’s his date. After texting him, Niccolo realises it was the man he first thought. The photos on his profile were quite overselling as the man standing in front of him was geeky-looking: big glasses, a grey jumper, short light brown hair, jeans and boots. 

“It seems closeted men have a better sense of fashion”, Niccolo thought since his sense of style was better than Daniel’s. 

Daniel was openly gay and it was no surprise since the way he talked was that of a camp but not only that, he spoke fast and in a posh manner, as if everything was amusing and obvious. The way he walked, was funny as he jumped up and down (Niccolo was always made fun of for walking exactly the same way and that’s when he realised what people talked about as he didn’t notice) and his shoulders were set back as if he was tense.

“One of my coworkers is in software and he earns very well”, Daniel said as they were both walking to the restaurant nearby the Thames river. 

“Well. I feel I’m earning decently well for a junior”, Niccolo said. 

“I have a massive sense of respect for people who do what you do. You have to be really smart for that”, Daniel said.

“I don’t consider myself that smart”, Niccolo said.

The restaurant was a casual one with a family sense. It looked like a cave with a massive window for the entrance wall to let the light enter, and high-raised ceilings. Niccolo and Daniel would sit opposite one another at a table for two and talk about random things such as Daniel’s undergrad which was in literature and the fact he studied in Scotland because he wanted to be away from home (Nottingham).

Niccolo spoke about his masters to which Daniel replied: “I might do a masters one day but in Germany. Not here.”, he said.

Daniel was a massive fan of travelling whereas Niccolo wasn’t. One of the diverting points of the chat the day before as Daniel was eagerly looking for a travel buddy and Niccolo would express his comfort with staying home.

The conversation led to the point where they talked about zodiac signs since Daniel’s birthday had been the week before and Niccolo had no idea what his sign was. 

“Well. I’m a Taurus. We are known for having a temper”, Niccolo said.

“A man who studied science believes in such things”, Daniel said in an arrogant voice as if trying to be funny and with a sense of superiority. 

“I believe it helps define the personality of a human being” Niccolo said casually as if not irritated by Daniel’s arrogance. 

 The conversation would last for an hour until they left the restaurant, setting off on the Queen’s Walk towards the London Eye in a chilly cloudy day of February. 

Niccolo would try to make conversation about Pop music but Daniel avoided it, leading to moments of silence. He gave the impression he did not want to be judged. 

When walking near the London Eye, the crowd would increase, Daniel would walk faster than Niccolo, leading him Daniel to turn sideways in a way that gave the impression he was afraid of being bailed on.

“I’m here”, Niccolo said in a cute way as he appeared next to Daniel. Daniel would go on and gently grab Niccolo’s hand to avoid losing him again. Niccolo as Daniel did this, was feeling happily overwhelmed, for a man like Niccolo would not feel attractive for a man like Daniel. 

They kept walking past the London eye and under the bridge to a less crowded zone. A place Niccolo hand’t been before. One that would look more industrial as the buildings were taller and less people were waking around the area. They walked to one of the bridges to set their return towards the Big Ben. As they were crossing the bridge Daniel goes: “You are very attractive” as they come to a halt. Niccolo blushes. Daniel was the third man he’d gone out with and none had flirted with him.

“You are blushing”, Daniel says delicately. 

“Thanks. You are really attractive as well”, Niccolo says shyly as he keeps blushing. 

They walk towards the Big Ben until Niccolo sees benches close to the river. 

“Do you want to sit for a while?”, Niccolo says.

“Sure”, Daniel replies. 

As they sit, Daniel makes a move and lies on Niccolo and in return, Niccolo holds him gently. 

“Do you live alone?”, Daniel says in a more relaxed manner. 

“I do. You?”

“I have flatmates”, Daniel said.

“I know what that’s like, I had flatmates last year and it was a nightmare”, Niccolo says.

 Daniel sighs with a sound as if he had heard a joke. A sounds that went along with the way he spoke, somehow camp and posh altogether. 

Daniel sits straight and looks at Niccolo. Niccolo realises the beauty of Daniel’s blue eyes and after few seconds of staring into another’s eyes, Daniel makes the move and kisses Niccolo.

As they were kissing, Niccolo felt uncomfortable. Public displays of affection were not something he was massively fond of but he kept going as he felt he was an utterly rubbish kisser whilst kissing Daniel, to which he thought was true as Daniel would stop after mere seconds of starting. 

 “I want to watch a film”, Daniel said as he want back to lying on Niccolo. 

Niccolo knew what it meant but he needed to make sure.

“As in the cinema or as in Netflix?”, Niccolo said intrigued.

“Netflix”, Daniel said.

“Bingo”, Niccolo thought. 

“Do you want to go to my flat?”, Niccolo said.

“Yes”, Daniel said.

Daniel got up swiftly. He seemed eager about it and they both set off walking towards the Westminster underground station. Daniel was shaking as he didn’t take a coat with him and the weather was freezing and they both started walking fast to the station, always holding hands.

Once on the train, they set off to Canada Water, where Niccolo lived. When they were on the train, they were sitting side by side in the area where the trolleys or disabled people went. They would casually look at one another and Daniel would rest his head upon Niccolo’s shoulders.

Niccolo didn’t know what was going on. He felt it was not meant to last as Daniel seemed to be affectionate too quickly but Niccolo thought he’d enjoy it for as long as it’d last. 

Once in Canada Water and out in the cold, cloudy weather. Daniel would start shaking again. Niccolo offered his coat to Daniel until he gave in by saying: “I’m done being polite. Yes, I’ll take it”.

Niccolo would take off his coat, put it on Daniel and they both set off to Niccolo’s flat as they held hands. Niccolo felt chilly but not enough to feel cold. 

“Were you afraid I’d leave you?”, Niccolo asked.

“Well, I have your coat now so I know you won’t”, Daniel said. 

They were walking past a shopping centre and to a road with different shops on the opposite side of the street such as laundry facilities and Chinese and Portuguese restaurants that would later lead to houses that looked similar on the right hand side of the road and what looked like state houses on the left in a rather busy street.

They turn to a places with different flats and up the stair’s to Niccolo’s. Once inside, they get to the living room after passing small hallway. The flat was small but cosy. A small table for four and furniture where on top there were several music CDs and the wall that would lead to the street, covered in windows leading to a building of flats in front. The kitchen, connected to the living room, was half the size. The sunlight would enter the flat but delicately as the only way to look at the sky was by getting close to the windows.

Niccolo got in first and when he turns around, he sees Daniel faces moving towards him. Yet, another kiss that didn’t feel less awkward even though they were no spectators this time. 

“Shall we move to the couch?”, Niccolo said.

“Sure”, Daniel answered.

Niccolo was lying on Daniel as they kissed. Daniel interrupted suddenly by saying: “You look like Daniel Radcliffe” as he saw a photo of Niccolo in his graduation robes.

“Nothing better than being proved right I’m a terrible kisser”, Niccolo said sarcastically as he felt Daniel’s comment killed the mood for this reason.

“We should move to the bedroom”, Daniel said in a sexual tone as he takes off his shoes.

“I am just noticing how skinny you are”, Daniel said. 

As they stand, Daniel kissed Niccolo and says: “You are getting better”, to which Niccolo did not believe.

Daniel turns around and takes the lead by holding his hands backwards to Niccolo's as he follows him to the bedroom.

The room had a king sized bed, it was set to a height lower than usual beds and there was barely any space between the bed and the furniture opposite. As the living room, the wall leading to the street would have a massive window and the curtains were not dark enough to cover the sunlight. 

They get on the bed and start snogging, something that takes a while. It was Niccolo’s first time. 

Daniel takes off his shirt and Niccolo realises what Daniel meant before: his belly was well pronounced but that didn’t bother Niccolo. Niccolo does the same and Niccolo realises what it’s like to feel skin to skin as his previous kiss-encounters didn’t get as far as Niccolo was a overly cautious man.

Niccolo was taking the lead by being overly affectionate. He was gently kissing Daniel’s body from neck to waist to which Daniel made sounds that made Niccolo felt he was making up for being such a rubbish snogger. 

One thing leads to another and they are both in their pants and when the right moment comes, Niccolo says: “This is it” as he realises he has to take the lead if he wants to have sex. 

By the time they were finished, it was dark. Niccolo felt awkward as he didn’t do what he referred to as “releasing himself”. Daniel had no problem doing so, he even fell asleep on Niccolo’s arm.

Niccolo felt awkward and wanted to check his phone but Daniel was well asleep and he was trying to set his arm free without waking him up. It took him around ten minutes as he embraced Daniel as “a romantic move” to try to set himself free. Once he did, he went back to the living room to check his phone to avoid the feeling he was slut (although the kind of sex they had was the “safest”) but after a minute he went back to find Daniel awake in a sleepy mode. The kissing restarted and Daniel asks: “Have you done this before with a man?”

Niccolo, close to Daniel’s face shakes his head in a rather cute manner as he the expression that takes over his face is that of a puppy.

“A girl?”, Daniel continues.

Niccolo repeats the same gesture.

“Oh, I’m your first?”, Daniel says surprised as he rolls Niccolo over.

Niccolo found it funny the man waits until after sex to ask. He assumed he knew by saying he’d never had a boyfriend before and not gone on many dates.

“I hope you don’t think I am the love of your life for being your first”, Daniel says in a tone with an essence of remorse. 

“Oh. I don’t want to break your heart”, Daniel says with guilt as if he’d screwed up.

“Don’t worry”, Niccolo says casually. He felt Daniel was a hookup lad so he felt it wouldn’t last but would enjoy the relationship until he was pushed away. 

Niccolo and Daniel were lying next to each other when Daniel seems to want to be deep in conversation as he asks about Niccolo’s view of religion as Niccolo says he believes in a God but not as the way portrayed by religion and Daniel says he’s an atheist that believes in some years it will proven there is no god.

Niccolo trying to keep the conversation going, says: “Question: Girls Aloud or Sugabes?”

Girls Aloud and Sugababes were two different Pop girl bands that ruled the 2000s music charts in the UK. Niccolo was a massive Girls Aloud fan to the point that after announcing their split in 2013, he was almost moved to tears.

“I’d say Sugababes”, Daniel replies followed by a singing whisper of the chorus of “Too Lost In You”.

“Lovely”, Niccolo says as he feels awkward by the singing.

“Mine is Girls Aloud”, Niccolo says once Daniel finishes singing.

“Girls Aloud?”, Daniel says in his usual arrogant tone

“What is it? ‘Sound of the Underground’. Really?”, Daniel continues.

“The production behind the songs are amazing”, Niccolo says mildly irritated.

“Give me a Girls Aloud song”, Daniel says.

“Untouchable”, Niccolo replied. 

As the conversation kept going, Daniel would trash Niccolo as he hugged him. Niccolo felt Daniel suffered from mood swings as this overly excited man hadn’t shown up all day until then. Once again, awkwardness taking over Niccolo but he really liked Daniel’s company. He found him huggable and lovely despite his arrogance.

“We should meet next week. What are you doing next week”, Daniel says.

Niccolo was surprised since he felt Daniel would start ignoring him by the next day.

“Nothing”, Niccolo said casually.

“Please, don’t give away you are such a loser. Let me guess. You are one of those who had a first”, Daniel says.

“As a matter of fact I did”, Niccolo says.

“Let’s meet on Tuesday”, Daniel says.

“Sure. Remind me, please”, Niccolo says.

After a minute’s silence, Niccolo says: “Well, I don’t want you to leave but somebody has to be the big man. It’s Sunday”, as the clock turned 9pm.

 As they get dressed, Niccolo says: “I’ll go with you to Canada Water”.

“You don’t have to do that”, Daniel says.

“I want to”, Niccolo says.

As they head off, Daniel starts shaking again and Niccolo offers his coat, to which Daniel denies this time by saying: “I believe people pay the price for their actions”.

They walk holding hands until they get to the station. Daniel farewells Niccolo with a swift kiss and Niccolo sets back home to his flat after he sees Daniel disappear from sight. 

Niccolo writes Daniel to tell him when he arrives home and they keep the conversation going until Niccolo says: “Good night, mate”

Daniel replies: “I’m not your mate”

Niccolo replied back, intrigued: “What are you then?”

“To be determined”, Daniel writes.

Niccolo, feeling over the moon, says: “So I have to introduce you as ‘this is my TBD’?”

Daniel says: “Yes”.

Niccolo can’t help but smile. Could this be it? Daniel was a sexually active man so if he said those things, maybe he wants to be more involved, Niccolo thought as he went to sleep feeling amazingly well. He felt there was a lot of uncertainty and that it was not meant to last but at least, he would try to enjoy it as much as he could.