#cloud is constantly swayed by the people around him. constantly responding to them. but is that a weakness or a strength?

[willosword]

remake has already doubled down Hard on the themes of consent and autonomy in cloud’s narrative. jesus christ they are going to fuck that boy Up in rebirth

[fairestwriting]

title: white to red

word count: 2223

summary: You’ve been invited to one of Heartslabyul’s famous Unbirthday Parties, Riddle wanted you to help him with inspecting the other dorm members’ activities even. You use that as an opportunity to get Che’nya to come so you could spend some time together, but that ends up not going too well...

commissioned by @honey-deerling , available on ao3 here ! tysm for commissioning me, i hope you enjoy this! ^_^

my guidelines for commissions are here, in case anyone else is interested

The Heartslabyul dorm’s garden is lively as ever. Blue skies blanketing over the scenery, sun shining brightly as the few, cotton-like clouds seemed to open their arms to introduce it. The wind blows gently, the leaves of the trees and bushes sway along, dancing to the lovely tune of the spring.

Following the tradition, today Riddle Rosehearts, Heartslabyul’s current crimson ruler, had picked a random date where none of the members’ birthdays took place — Today, in this case — to hold one of their famous Unbirthday Parties. And so the outdoors is decorated not only with the half-finished setup of the event, but the rush of a multitude of students.

The roses must be painted red, the queen had ordered. And so his subjects completed the task, some collared and some not, some chattering with their friends and some complaining about the ache in their limbs from reaching upwards, bringing pure white petals to bright red.

The party must be immaculate, after all. Just as the queen said.

Although in the bushes, hid a lone troublemaker, a flash of warm purple and shiny piercings on pointed ears, ready to taint the symphonic chaos of Heartslabyul’s event…

But, well, you didn’t mind that he was here. On the contrary.

He was invited.

“Prefect, have you checked on Spade and Trappola?” The crimson ruler’s voice comes into play, high heels crushing emerald-green grass. A couple years ago he might have held some papers, lists of regulations to follow for the Unbirthday Parties, but now, he knew all of them by heart.

“Hmm, not yet, no.” You respond. Riddle’s face contorts slightly, eyes narrowing. Vague displeasure. Though you’re pretty sure it’s not at you, Riddle wouldn’t have assigned you the task of helping him with the inspection if he didn’t believe you to be a responsible person. “I’m sure they’ve learned their lessons from last time, though.” You offer him a chuckle.

“That’s what we’ll see now. Would you follow me?” Riddle says, making polite eye contact. You don’t have a reason not to comply, strolling across the beautiful garden by his side. “Trappola specifically… just seems to never learn his lesson.”

“Aw, I’m sure he’s trying his best.” You say, though you’re not sure of it yourself, really. Riddle shakes his head with a sigh. “...well, maybe not, but he’s got a good heart.”

“Trappola has so much potential, yet he keeps refusing to just follow the rules…” Riddle grumbles, maybe mostly to himself.

Walking your path, you finally reach the rose bushes that your so-called friends were assigned to — And you come to find that out of all the reactions a student could have to being tasked with painting the rose bushes, Ace was of the collared, constantly complaining kind, and Deuce was the quieter, diligent one who on occasion told Ace off about regarding his complaining.

“Here they are.” Riddle says, unenthusiastic.

“...they’re working, right?” You say, narrowing your eyes at the duo. Neither had noticed you yet. Riddle takes a couple steps closer, straightening his posture even more (You didn’t know such a thing was possible) to face Ace.

“Trappola, care to explain why you’re whining instead of painting?” He queries, you take tentative steps towards Riddle to watch the scene closer. Just doing your job as a fellow inspector, really!

...you can’t help but give Ace a sympathetic smile and shrug. Sorry, Ace, I’m not defying your dorm leader.

“My arm hurts!” Ace complains, the turn of his head couldn’t possibly feel comfortable against that collar… “C’mon, prefect, can’t you release me just to do the rose painting?”

“You’re the one who chose to broke the rules, now you suffer the consequences.” Riddle states, then turns his gaze to Deuce. “Spade, you’re… doing okay, actually. Keep up the good work. You should improve as your magic gets better.”

“Ah, thank you so much, Prefect…!” Deuce’s eyes are wide upon the praise, he stops his painting for a second to bow to Riddle. Ace looks annoyed in the background. “I will continue to do my best!”

“Sure you will.” Riddle adds, and continues his walk, followed by you. “Frankly, these two…”

You take a couple more steps, before Cater hops into the scene. “Prefect— Prefects! I finished my rose painting quota!” He announces with a smile. Riddle hums in acknowledgement.

“Good job, Cater. Do move on to your next task.” He says. Cater winks, fingers positioned into a peace sign next to his opened eye.

“Sure, sure. Just gimme a minute, though — Prefect, can I take a selfie with you? I love what you did to your hair today, it looks so cute!” Cater chimes. You blink, a surprised hand touching your own hair for a moment, but you smile.

“Ahh, thank you! I’ve gotta help Riddle with the inspection, though.” You say. It’s a shame, really, Cater takes nice pictures. “But we can do it later! Pinky promise.”

“Aww, that’s a shame. It’s alright, though! I’ll be sure to ask for that later.” He sing-songs, and with one of his signature bright smiles, he hops away. You wave at him with a short giggle.

“So troublesome…” Riddle is mumbling.

You’re almost at the tea garden — When you almost cause a tragedy by bumping onto Trey clover, whose sleeves were rolled up as he carried a big, bright red strawberry tart.

“Careful there!” Trey warns, Riddle almost trips on his shoes trying to step back. He looks down at the two of you, smiling wryly. “Did you get distracted by the tart? It looks pretty good, I know.”

“I-I did not!” Riddle protests, flustered. “It… does look good, though.”

“You’ve really outdone yourself this time, Clover-senpai.” You praise. It’s true! The glaze on the fruits was brighter than ever. You could only imagine how sweet it tasted.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t forget you have to wait until the party to taste it. But I do hope you like it.” He says, giving you a smile as he walks away, and you do too.

“I didn’t get distracted…” Riddle mumbles again, and you reach the garden, your formal venue for the tea party, vacant since it wasn’t time to set down the dishes yet. “Oh, we’re here.”

“Yup!” You confirm. “So were people doing good today?”

He shrugs. “It was better than the last one. Acceptable, I’d say.” Is his response, before he takes a brief moment to probably go over his mental list of tasks. “I have to check the insides of the building now, to make sure nobody’s trying to slack off. You’re… done with your duties, so you can stay here as long as you don’t cause a ruckus. Though I doubt you’ll do that.”

“Yes, your majesty.” You reply with a smile. “I’ll wait here, I can help with the table when it’s time.”

Riddle’s expression softens. “That would be appreciated. Thank you, Prefect. You’re a kind person.”

He says that, and then he leaves.

You’re left by yourself in the quaint tea garden, rocking back and forth on your heels as you look around at the perfectly cut bushes, the soon to be beautifully set table.

Or, rather…

“Che’nya, dear?” You call out. Anyone who walked by might think you’re crazy, talking to absolutely nothing. But you knew he was here, you could sense his presence. An amused smile appears on your face. “They’re gone now, you silly cat.”

“Meow?” Your hear Che’nya’s voice, the mimic of a meow, and you look around for the source — Until you see him up on a tree, laying on his stomach over a thick branch, grinning at you as his tail swishes around playfully. “There are no cats here. You’re seeing things.”

“Sure I would, with how my cute kitty boyfriend just drives me so crazy. ” You joke, answering his grin with a giggle and a smile, reaching out towards the tree. “C’mon. I’m done with my stuff, now, so we can hang out here.”

“Now that’s an offer I can’t refuse.” Che’nya chuckles, and he hops off the tree, cleanly landing on two feet — A cat, alright — before he takes the hand you’ve offered him, pressing a playful kiss to it. “Hey, how about I take you away from this place? Away from this tyrant of a queen?”

Through your hand, he pulls you closer. Che’nya’s mischievous grin never falters, decorating his face like the strawberries to a tart. Near him, you can’t help but laugh, feeling his other hand on your waist as he holds you like you’re a princess, his princess.

“To ride off into the sunset together?” You ask, smiley. “I never thought you were the princely type.”

“I can be anything, y’know.” He says. “For you at least!”

“Well, I like you best just like this.” You chuckle at him, making him smile bigger as he wraps his arms around you tighter, pulling you into a hug—

But then you hear a paint bucket drop.

“...is that an RSA student?” An unfamiliar voice asks with an edge to it, you step away from Che’nya to see who it was — A boy with messy black hair, you hadn’t seen him before.

“Oops.” Che’nya laughs with a hint of nervousness to it. “That’s my cue to leave, meow! See ya later— ”

“No, you stay right there!” The boy snaps, and for some reason, Che’nya freezes in place. “What the hell are you doing here?”

It’s like the air around you suddenly gets cold.

“I— ” Che’nya mutters to himself. “Can’t move?”

The student barks out a laugh. “Well, yeah, that’s my unique magic.” He informs. “I’ve been waiting to catch you here somewhere. You come here for every Unbirthday Party, don’t you?”

“H-Hey, man, come on, they don’t have any rules against that, right?” Che’nya asks, still completely still, standing up straight with his arms glued to the sides of his body. “I’m friends with your dorm leader, y’know! And it’s not like I’m here for too long.”

“You’re still in RSA. Do you have any idea what your school’s done to NRC students?” Taking steps closer, the student eyes at Che’nya dangerously. They’re about the same height, but he’s still sizing him up. You’re ignored in your shock, standing a couple feet away with wide eyes. You can’t believe the sight in front of you. He’s attacking your boyfriend? “You know what happened a couple years ago, when my older brother went here? During a Magift match, he got his knee broken and now he can’t play anymore at all. He lost his chance to make it big because of you!”

Che’nya laughs dryly, though his eyes still dart around. “I did that?” He questions, and you see how he spasms lightly, struggling against the spell. “That’s got nothing to do with me, come on!”

“I don’t care. It’s about what your school stands for— ”

Someone’s threatening Che’nya? They’re about to hurt him? And just like this, for a reason that doesn’t make any sense?

No, not on your watch.

It happens like a flash — The adrenaline hits your brain like a bullet, kicking you into motion. Air thinning, growing cold, nothing but that simmering rage in your blood — and suddenly you have that boy lifted up by his shirt, fist clutching the front of his shirt.

Your heart races with the anger.

“Excuse me,” You start, voice lowering, a waver to its edge. “What exactly made you think you could talk to my boyfriend like that?”

“H-He’s…!” He stutters. His eyes are so wide, skin ghostlike pale. “What the hell is wrong with you? He’s from RSA! Do you think you get anything protecting people like this?”

God. This idiot — Your grip on the shirt tightens, you feel how he tenses under your surprising strength. Something about how he looks at you, so terrified, just gives you this sort of rush. The satisfaction of justice.

This is what he gets for trying to hurt Che’nya.

“I don’t listen to scum like you.” You snap, and you — Raise your hand. To slap him, punch him, do something worse? You’re not exactly sure. But the adrenaline courses through you so fast, spiking even higher when you’re about to do it and…

You feel your wrist being grabbed.

“It’s okay. I can move now.” Che’nya’s voice brings you back to reality, and your grip on the boy’s shirt loosens. Suddenly he’s heavy to hold up, you drop him on the grass with a loud noise as you blink yourself back into full consciousness.

You turn to look at him. His face is serious like it never is.

The boy you’d been holding up shrieks without a word, fumbling to get up and run away, steps rapidly crushing grass on his way. Che’nya releases your wrist, gently.

“I’m sorry.” You mutter. “He was so stupid. But I’m not gonna let anyone lay a hand on you, Che’nya.”

Che’nya keeps watching you with this unreadable expression. Is he angry? Scared? You can’t exactly tell. You curse that student for ruining your sweet spring afternoon.

(You promise yourself to get him again later. Magic or not, you’d make him pay— )

“It’s okay.” He says, quiet, and he grins again. Your heart does a leap — Che’nya’s gentle hands cup your face, fingers carefully treading through locks of your hair. “I’d do the same for you, yeah?”

[m-m-m-myysurana]

WIP Wednesday

Ok I got tagged by @blarrghe like at least 2 weeks ago to share a wip. (I’m sorryy!) I am notoriously bad at this sort of thing. So anyway it is actually Wednesday for me now and look who has a WIP to share!! 

This is a snippet which will, in some form or another, make it into my long fic, A Cage We Share eventually. But it insisted on being written right now ty! Kept me up last night until it was out on the page. First rough draft of course so be kind ;)

Neria and Zev spend an evening in the Dalish camp after resolving the conflict between the Werewolves and the elves. 

A Night to Remember, (1500 words)

It was like no performance he’d ever seen. The singer was not dressed in any elaborate costume, nor did he even hold himself above the others, instead he sat close to the fire and sang into it. There were no instruments backing him up, though he did not seem to need it, his voice rang out clear and strong. Some sang or hummed along softly, harmonies and echoed lines fading in and out around them. From the cadence and verse, it seemed to be a story. Zevran recognised the name of one of the elven gods, though he could not pick out enough words to make sense of it. Neria’s eyes sparkled in the firelight as she listened with rapt attention. 

“What does it mean?” he whispered.

Neria looked over and smiled softly before leaning in to whisper next to his ear, “It's the Charge of Andruil. My father used to sing it. I don’t know that I’ll be able to translate it with much grace, but I can try.” 

Zevran nodded, and she settled closer to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. He kept very still, as if any sudden movement might scare her off. He felt more than heard her low words as she echoed the song. Her translation was spoken, not sung, but her voice was no less beautiful for lack of a melody.

“Remember my teachings, Remember the Vir Tanadhal: The Way of Three Trees That I have given you.

“Vir Assan: the Way of the Arrow Be swift and silent; Strike true, do not waver And let not your prey suffer. That is my Way.

“Vir Bor'assan: the Way of the Bow As the sapling bends, so must you. In yielding, find resilience; In pliancy, find strength. That is my Way.”

More voices joined in, and soon it seemed the entire camp was reciting the verse. Not every voice was as strong or beautiful as the first, but together in harmony it did not matter. As the sound filled his ears, an emotion he could not name expanded in his chest, swelling until he felt it might burst right out of him. 

“Vir Adahlen: the Way of the Wood Receive the gifts of the hunt with mindfulness. Respect the sacrifice of my children Know that your passing shall nourish them in turn. That is my Way.

“I am Sister of the Moon, Mother of Hares, Lady of the Hunt: Andruil. Remember the Ways of the Hunter And I shall be with you.” *

When the man finished, and Neria had echoed the last line, there was no polite applause or bows taken as Zevran had expected. A moment's silence passed, in which Zevran felt sure everyone would hear how wildly his heart beat. Then a drum was struck behind him, and he startled, whirling round to face it. The man pounded the drum a few more times, then began a rhythm that had many quickly cheering and standing. Neria stayed where she was on the log they were sitting on, so he remained with her. She twisted around and watched, delighted, as more of them joined in, bringing out more drums, tambourines, bells and fiddles, something that looked like a lute but wasn’t quite, and instruments he had no names for. Others joined in with the voices, not singing any particular lyrics he could pick out, just adding to the ever changing melodies with their voices. People started dancing, forming circles around the fire, and soon the camp was thrumming with the music so that even his heart seemed to beat to the rhythm. 

Neria swayed her head from side to side, eyes gleaming as she clapped along. Zevran stood, grinning as he held his hand out toward her. 

“Shall we?” 

“Oh, but I haven’t danced in years!”

“Shocking! I think it's time we remedied that, don’t you?” 

Neria laughed and let him help her up. He had not even had time to release her hand before a woman had his arm and was pulling them both along toward the dancing. With little ceremony, she broke a space between two dancers who, once they realised what was happening, very happily made space for the three of them. The dancer’s movements didn’t cease once as they attempted to join the circle, and the ensuing chaos created much laughter. The woman wrapped Zevran’s arm around her shoulders and wrapped her own around the woman beside her. A taller man wrapped his arm around Neria’s shoulders and Zevran shifted his arm under her arm and around her waist. 

Zevran had danced before, many times, though it had been nothing like this. Most dances in his country were made for two people, even in groups the dancers were in pairs. And of course most of the ones he had learnt had a focus on romance and seduction. These movements were made not in any effort to appear graceful or attractive, and indeed he was neither of those things right now. He stumbled over his feet many times as he attempted to copy the steps. They seemed to constantly shift and change, he would only just begin to pick up on one set of movements before they had moved on to another. Neria laughed, stumbling nearly as much as he did. She, however, seemed to pay no attention to what her feet were doing, instead her eyes were up and her head thrown back, as if she were simply feeling the music. 

It took him a while to realise the voice closest to him was hers. He had never heard her sing before, her voice was low and soothing and sweet like honey. Something glimmered on her face, reflecting the dancing light of the fire. Tears? Once he noticed he could not tear his eyes away. This was the happiest he had ever seen her, and yet she was crying. It confused him, but he did not dare interrupt. 

Soon the circle broke apart, though the dancing did not cease. He and Neria were separated, and he was guided through a sort of weaving dance. Each person he passed linked arms with him and spun before sending him off to the next person. This continued until he was quite dizzy, laughing as hair flew out of his braids. 

Then suddenly it was Neria who was swinging with him. He knew the next part meant he had to let go, but he didn’t want to. So he held on, using their momentum to throw them out and away from the fire. Neria screamed with laughter as they whirled, spinning wildly until they were some distance from the other dancers. 

He wrapped his arm around her waist, bringing her closer as he slowed them down. When they’d finally stopped, Neria’s grin was wide and open, and both of them breathed heavily. Their noses nearly touched, and couldn’t help but remember the last time they were so close. Heat flushed through him unexpectedly, and something sparked in her eyes, a look he recognised from that night. They were out in the open, the whole clan could see them if they looked the right way, but he couldn’t care less. He dared to lean into her lips and was delighted when she responded with far more enthusiasm than he’d expected. There was a loud whoop followed by whistling and laughter, but Zevran did not want to pull away to see if it was aimed at them.  

The kiss was clumsy, all teeth and breathless laughter, but in that moment he wouldn’t have had it any other way. She pushed her hands into his mess of hair, destroying what remained of his braids, and he tugged at her waist until their bodies were flush against one another. Her foot caught on something, and she stumbled, falling against his chest. He was still so dizzy that they both went over. He caught himself before they hit the ground, and managed to lower them down, almost gently. Neria lay on his chest, wide eyed for a moment, but then she burst into a fit of laughter, rolling off of him and onto the damp leaves. He couldn’t help but join in. 

After some time their laughter faded as they focused simply on breathing again. Neria looked up at the sky, and Zevran followed her gaze. Framed by the clearing in the tall trees, clouds had parted to reveal a glimpse of the night sky. For a second he was taken back to the time he’d spent stargazing with Talisen and Rinna, out on the roof of their tiny, crumbling apartment. Those nights were always accompanied with so much cheap wine that his memories of them were hazy and faded. This night he hoped to keep clearly in his mind for as long as he lived. 

“Thank you.” Neria whispered the words so quietly, he wasn’t sure he was meant to hear them at all. 

He turned his head to look at her, watching her breath rise and fall as she stared up at the stars. A soft smile tugged on her lips, and her lashes came to rest on her cheeks as she closed her eyes, more peaceful than he had ever expected to see her. 

No, he would not let this memory fade.

*The song was adapted slightly from this codex entry about Andruil.

You can read about the beginning of Neria and Zev’s relationship here! <3

[fawniewithorangejuice]

Confessions, Coffee, and Kisses - Part 1

It's been an awfully long day for Hinata Hajime.

Packing up his books, he stood up in one of the Reserve Course classrooms, admiring the terrifyingly clean floor.

Hinata hated this. Hated being around people who were so incredibly bland.

It just reminded him of his own bland existence.

When it comes to Hope's Peak Academy, the Main Course was the "big deal". Talented people who were the hope of the new generation. They could achieve anything they set their mind to - a clear carrier path. An obvious road to success.

... Hinata didn't have that.

A part of him wanted to accept it. A part of him wanted to give up.

Just let it be.

The universe wasn't kind enough to him to bless him with a talent, so he should just live with it.

He could only have one opinion overwriting all:

"Fuck that."

His Ultimate parents got him into the Reserve Course because of their fear for their image.

Imagine a successful, talented couple raising a child without talent.

Couldn't be them... so they did their best to hide the truth, for their own selfish desires.

Mr. Hinata long gave up on cultivating any possible talent his son might've had - he did not have any - so their so-called "family" was just a reason to keep their son alive.

He got fed, he had a roof above his head - but he never felt loved.

Hinata would never admit, but he craved validation. Which was fine, most children do... but not this way.

He developed the need to prove his worth.

This is why he attended every competition he saw fit, worked three times as hard as any of his other classmates - to get some sort of praise from his parents.

No, not praise. Any kind of acknowledgement of his existence.

He was mindlessly walking down the corridors, careful not to bump into anyone.

"Hinata!"

He heard a high-pitched male voice call out to him.

Hinata sighed, it was probably that annoying classmate again... Sakugi Kuri.

The boy always seemed a bit too happy-go-lucky to him, quite a nice contrast when it comes to the gloomy Reserve Course.

As if a gray cloud was constantly hovering over this department, while the Main Course had all the sunlight.

"What is it, Sakugi-san?

The brunette had the feeling the black haired boy felt like they were friends.

Hinata didn't really think so, but as much as he thought of Sakugi as a bother, his company was tolerable.

The shorter male looked at him with pleading eyes.

"You promised to help me out with the history homework, so please~?"

There came Hinata's signature sigh, paired with a nod.

"I did... give me your book, then."

Sakugi let out a loud "yay~" and bowed his head to Hinata, who had to give him a smile.

While they were walking out of the building, the black haired boy talked about things he found exciting.

Normal people talk.

Sakugi talked about his family, how they were planning to go on vacation to some city... Towa, was it?

Hinata just hummed as he listened, though his thoughts always seemed to drift away.

As they walked now on the streets, he noticed another one of his friends standing with a girl under a cherry tree.

Hinata's eyes widened, pulling the shorter male along with him to hide behind some bushes.

"Hinata?" Sakugi whispered curiously, obviously confused by the other's actions.

"That's one of my friends from the Main Course. He is probably getting confessed to right now."

The brunette smiled, even though not every part of him was happy for his friend's new possible relationship.

"Ah, but that is wonderful!" the boy exclaimed, and Hinata had to cover his mouth.

"Shh, be quiet, don't ruin this moment for him."

Hinata is going to be honest, he didn't really know much about Komaeda's love life. He didn't know if he liked someone at all, or if he would accept the girl's feelings.

The spring leaves were gently swaying in the wind, the sakura tree standing tall and beautiful as ever.

It was the perfect moment for a love confession, Hinata thought.

So you could imagine the confusion when he saw the girl staring at the ground, trying her best not to cry.

Sakugi raised an eyebrow, and he looked at Hinata.

"Didn't... why didn't he accept her confession?"

Hinata shrugged, honestly confused. The girl was an Ultimate as well, beautiful purple hair, pink eyes...

Then it dawned on him.

"Komaeda... is a difficult person."

That was a really accurate statement.

"It's because she is an Ultimate, isn't it? Komaeda can't indulge in being with a talented person, he wouldn't let himself do so in a thousand years."

The girl ran away crying, and Komaeda did look extremely uncomfortable.

"Sakugi-san, I've-"

"It's okay, Hinata, just talk to him."

The brunette nodded.

"Thank you for understanding. I promise I'll finish your history homework by tomorrow, okay?"

Sakugi chuckled.

"Alright, but make sure to redeem a cup of coffee."

Hinata smiled as well.

"I will, I will."

After waving to the shorter boy, Hinata made his way to Komaeda, who just helplessly stood there like a puppy.

Hinata's heart sank at the sight, so he placed his hands on the other's shoulders, as an attempt to comfort him.

"H-Hinata-kun..."

The lucky student looked our protagonist in the eye, as if searching for answers.

"Komaeda..."

Upon hearing his name, the white haired boy closed the distance between them, hugging the other male.

"Want to talk about it?"

Hinata asked cautiously after a couple of minutes, just gently rubbing the other's back.

"Hinata-kun, I just... I don't understand. She confessed to me. She doesn't even know who I am! A-and she looked so upset when I rejected her, I just froze in place... she..."

Komaeda was sobbing at this point.

As someone who rarely experienced care, a love confession out of the blue could stir up so many confusing and unwanted emotions.

"I made her cry, Hinata-kun..."

Hinata hated seeing Komaeda like this. He absolutely despised it.

... Though he didn't expect such a strong reaction after a love confession, but Komaeda was different.

Hinata carefully put together his words, not to say the wrong thing.

"But did you like her, Komaeda?"

The white haired boy shook his head, but didn't respond verbally.

"Then you did the right thing. You could've let her live a dream, a false reality... and leading her on like that would've just led to more heartbreak."

Komaeda was slowly calming down, holding Hinata tight.

"You think so?"

He asked in a small voice, which Hinata nodded to.

"As much as the truth hurts, wrapping yourself in lies will just mess you up more. It would've been so much worse if you told her later, believe me."

Komaeda sniffed, now no more tears forming in his eyes.

Hinata kept his strong but tender hold, not letting go until Komaeda wanted to.

Komaeda didn't exactly want to let go... ever, but he wouldn't say that.

So soon enough they let go of each other, not without the lucky student faking a sniff to smell Hinata's scent.

After crying, some people start to giggle. That's usually because of them feeling so overwhelmed, they don't know how else to function.

This was the reason why Komaeda chuckled, though he was much calmer than he were before.

"C-can't believe a Reserve Course Student came to comfort me... how despair-inducing."

Hinata sighed of relief. Komaeda had quite the sarcasm and his snarky comments, so whenever his friend used such abilities, Hinata knew he was alright.

That didn't keep him from rolling his eyes.

"You're welcome."

Komaeda chuckled again, and looked around to actually remind himself of his surroundings.

Hinata still had to make sure his friend was better, so he opted to ask:

"Would you like to grab a coffee?"

The lucky student gave him a small nod, being too emotionally overwhelmed right now to put up a fight.

Plus if he knew anything about Hinata, it was his stubbornness.

The brunette took him by the arm, and led him to his favourite café.

Komaeda was paying attention to the familiar route, and shook his head with a smile, and a look of disbelief.

"Hinata-kun, are you seriously taking me to Thanks a Latte again?"

The other male just shrugged with a grin on his face.

"I may be... by then, perhaps you'll be able to learn some manners, and actually thank me for caring about you."

Komaeda pouted, narrowing his eyes.

"I think someone needs to know their place here."

Hinata tried his best to hold back a laugh, though he failed miserably.

"Oh really~?"

Komaeda sighed in fake disappointment.

"This is exactly why I don't hang out with people from the Reserve Course. All of you are so cocky."

The brunette chuckled as they were walking down the streets, turning the corner of Lollipop Street.

"Mhm... then why are you hanging out with me so often?"

Hinata loved playing this game. Whatever this game was.

Komaeda blushed, but he tried to give a rebuttal.

"W-well, because I have nothing else to do, of course. And you seem oddly obsessed with me, so I might just let you live your dreams of befriending an Ultimate."

Hinata shook his head again, giving Komaeda a "yeah yeah sure, keep telling that to yourself." before he stopped at the door to the café.

The brunette knew Komaeda was hanging out with him because he enjoyed his company - and because Komaeda always seemed so lonely whenever he saw him.

He knew Komaeda liked him; just not in a way the lucky student actually did.

Hinata opened the door the usual way.

"After you, my liege."

[speechlessxx]

Requite - part 2 (Andy Barber x Reader)

Summary: In which the reader sticks by Andy’s side throughout Jacob’s trial and the aftermath of a life changing accident.

Warnings: I followed the book’s ending instead of the show’s ending, SPOILERS for Episode 7 and Episode 8 (and the book!), I omitted the trip to Mexico, slight CHEATING (kiss & feelings), implied age gap, 

Word Count: 2.5k

long awaited... i know! i’m sorry!

READ PART 1 HERE

“I won’t get through this without you.”

You weren’t sure why Andy told you this a day before the trial. He was asking – begging – you to stay and see the trial through.

You were rightfully reluctant. You weren’t anything to him. You were just a friend, something you had to keep reminding yourself. Perhaps you were less than that – you and Laurie weren’t even close. You didn’t know if Laurie would appreciate your presence, unsure if she knew what transpired between you and her husband. Your relationship with the Barbers started and ended with Andy, maybe with the exception of their son – even then, you weren’t close Jacob except for the occasional ride. You were simply the next-door neighbor. Nothing more… at least that’s what you told yourself.

Andy’s blue eyes were clouded. The stress and nervousness written all over his face though he tried his best to conceal that from everyone. He was the head of the household. He was their source of stability. If he collapsed (and he was almost there), then the family would topple over, too. Although his and Laurie’s marriage had been fragile for years now, they put up a united front for the sake of the cameras that constantly followed them. It hurt you, but again, it wasn’t your place to be hurt.

You had no plans to stay. You wanted to sever all ties with your old life and start over. Like you told Andy days before that incident, nothing was keeping you in Newton.

But then you stared into Andy’s pleading eyes. This man was your kryptonite. “Please…” he said. His voice was barely above a whisper as if he were afraid to be overheard though both of you were completely isolated in your backyard. “Please stay.”

So, you did.

You stayed for every gritty detail and revelation that was revealed throughout the trial. As much as you hated to admit, Jacob looked guiltier and guiltier, but you still had faith. You believed he was a good kid. How could he not be? He had an amazing father to look up to.

Then, Derek Yoo took the stand. He read out the “Job Story” that detailed a boy named Jason who murdered his bully, Brent, in the forest. You felt your jaw drop slightly as the color drained from your face when Derek finished the story. Andy had turned in his seat next to his son.

At first, you thought he was staring at Laurie, but he was staring at you – something his wife also noticed.

You didn’t know this, but your mere presence alone was a comfort to him. It was something about your smile or the way you’d chuckle lightly when Joana was able to poke holes into the prosecution’s theories. If you believed Jacob was innocent, then others would, too.

He had a panicked look on his face, desperate to find any source of reassurance from you, but you were almost certain that your expression mirrored his. Like Andy, that “Job story” made you start doubting. It was nearly a confession. It might’ve been the final nail to this coffin that Loguidice built for his son.

-=+=-

Laurie tearfully confessed to Andy that she believed that their son was guilty. Like many, the story swayed her though she had already been on the fence about her son’s innocence. She envisioned when Jacob was a young boy. She remembered when he lifted the bowling ball, ready to bash it into another child’s head. The thought that her son – the baby boy she cradled in her arms and kissed goodnight, the young man whom she loved unconditionally – was capable of such an atrocity terrified her. What had she raised? What had she loved?

Andy stared at her in disbelief. His arms were crossed as he leaned against the kitchen counter while Laurie let out everything she’d been holding in.

“He didn’t do this. I know he didn’t do this.” Andy snapped, punctuating every word. But it was a lie. Andy began doubting, too, but what kind of father would he be if he let one thing – a work of fiction – convince him that his son was a murderer? Andy raised him, held him in his arms, taught him how to walk – how to fish, told him he loved him. He couldn’t let himself believe that Jacob was guilty. That was his son.

“No, you don’t!”

“No one can sustain that level of deception!” Andy argued.

“Of course, he could!” Laurie shot back. “You of all people should know that.” She bit her lip while her eyes watered again.

Laurie wasn’t stupid. She knew. She knew the marriage was falling apart – they’ve both known for years now. She knew how her husband wandered off to her next-door neighbor’s. She knew that Andy liked comforting you – that he liked providing you help, always offering to do a favor. She had hoped it was innocent visitations – he was just checking up on the poor young woman whose husband abused her. But she always knew deep down, there was something more. Your presence at court – Andy staring through her to look at you – made it all connect.

Andy scoffed, looking down. She stared at him in silence and he refused to look at her. He wasn’t discreet about his affection for you – his concern for you. Though he’d convince himself that you were just a distraction from his failing marriage, he knew there was something more and he now knew his wife figured it out, too. “Yeah… yeah of course,” Andy said. “He learned it from me.”

“Maybe he learned it from both of us.” Laurie found herself guilty, too. She and Andy stayed together to keep face. They were the picture-perfect Barber family. And although the trial proved that they were far from that, the Barbers knew way before then.

For the first time, they finally agreed on something.

This marriage was a lie.

-=+=-

Three sharp knocks that was followed by the doorbell snapped you back to reality. You hadn’t realized you were staring at your framed wedding photo for the past hour. You hastily opened the door to reveal Andy Barber. He wore sweats and a grey top to match with a scowl on his face.

“Can I crash here tonight?” He asked. You frowned in confusion but nodded, widening the door to let him in. Andy noticed that you unpacked a few boxes. Those marked as “kitchen”, “bedroom”, “bath” had all been reopened. He didn’t fool himself to believe that you were planning to stay in Newton. You had unpacked because he had asked you to stay until the trial was over. He was grateful.

“What happened?” You asked him, handing him one of the beers your ex-husband left behind.

“Laurie and I got into a fight.” He muttered. He took a long sip from the bottle. His brows were furrowed and eyes low. Andy was clearly upset. You scolded yourself for bringing him a beer. The mixture of alcohol and anger never ended well for you.

You decided not to pry. It wasn’t your place after all.

“You know,” Andy said, taking a seat at your dining table. You joined him. “I wish we ended things a long time ago.”

“Don’t say that,” you said. “You and Laurie are a great couple.”

He chuckled humorlessly and shook his head. “We aren’t.” You weren’t sure how to respond, so you opted to keep your silence. Did that incident bring him an epiphany? Your gulped, suddenly feeling a wave of guilt. The emotion seemed to be making its rounds today. “I… I don’t know what to think of that story, honestly.” You hugged your arms around yourself as he took another swig from the bottle. You didn’t want to talk about the story. You still wanted to believe that Jacob was innocent although your faith was slowly waning. Andy narrowed his eyes at your reaction. “Why do you do that?”

“What?”

“Curl into yourself… you do that when you talk about your ex-husband.”

“I thought we were talking about you and Laurie.” You muttered, tucking a piece of hair out of your face. You’d rather not talk about your marriage or the aftermath of it.

“You’re a good distraction.” Andy shrugged.

“I won’t take offense to that.” You laughed a little and unraveled your arms from your body to pick at your thumbs.

“Don’t.” Andy smirked a little. Another sip. “I like you.”

“You’re drunk.” You waved your hand dismissively. You felt butterflies begin to flutter in your stomach and decided to ignore it. He didn’t mean that.

“Sober thoughts are drunk words, right?”

“You’re stressed.” You reasoned although you felt as if you were convincing yourself he was.

“It’s the truth…” Andy said, taking another drink. He stared straight at you. You felt like he was staring into your soul. “I like being around you.”

“I’m a good distraction?” You joked.

“No, it’s more than that.” Andy scoffed, shaking his head. He reached over and grabbed your hand. You stared at him, wide eyed, with surprise.

“Andy –“

“Laurie and I decided we’re getting a divorce.”

“What?” You thought you’d be delighted upon hearing that, but you felt dread course through you. You thought of the numerous mistresses that your husband entertained. You were in their shoes now and you hated it.

Andy licked his lips, taking another sip from the bottle. “We decided no more lying. No more pretending. After the trial – whichever way the jury leans towards – we’re over.”

“I’m sorry…” You didn’t know what else to say. You pulled your hands from his. He let you go.

“You shouldn’t feel sorry.” Andy muttered with a frown. “It’s been years in the making. We just can’t… we can’t pretend anymore.” He stared at you, but you refused to look at him, opting to stare at your hands instead.  “Wait… are you blaming yourself?” Your silence gave you away. “It wasn’t your fault, (Y/N)… We were over a long time ago. It’s finally time we admitted that to ourselves.”

“Okay…”

“I wasn’t lying about before either and forgive me if I’m wrong, but there is something here.” He was blunt. He was more straightforward than he would’ve been if he were sober. Perhaps it was a good thing.

You wrapped your arms around yourself again and shook your head, protesting. “Andy – “

“You’re gonna tell me there’s nothing. You’re gonna tell me I’m wrong, but you’re pulling away from me and curling into yourself like how you did when I asked you about your bruises.” He knew how you were. He knew you. He understood you.

“I’m just your distraction. Tomorrow, you’re gonna wake up and go back to your house.” You frowned. “I’m just convenient.”

“No, you’re not!” Andy argued. “I asked you to stay for the trial because I know Laurie and I wouldn’t be able to be there for each other. I asked you to stay because you listen to me, you understand, you comfort me when my own wife can’t. You’re not just convenient or just my distraction. Honestly, I think if I had met you first, I wouldn’t be married to my wife. I’m falling for you, (Y/N).”

“Andy…” you shook your head. It was wrong for him to say that whether he was buzzed or sober. You didn’t want to argue and his voice steadily increased in volume frightened you. The alcohol in his system and his boiling rage – whether it was from your dismissiveness or from the trial – wasn’t a good mix.

You decided to take yourself out the equation before it got out of hand and stood up from the table. You were going to go fix him a place to stay. Your guest room still had the bed and bedframe set up.

But Andy stood with you, grabbing your hand, preventing you from walking away. You said his name again, but he didn’t want to listen to you lie to yourself – lie to him. Without another word, Andy pulled you into him, pressing his lips against your own.

It was a replay of that incident except you didn’t pull away almost immediately. The soft and gentle kiss slowly heated into a passionate one. Your lips moved in sync and molded together. His beard tickled your skin but you paid it no mind, getting lost in Andy. One of his hands rested on your waist and the other on the back of your head, getting lost in your hair.

Everything about it was addicting. Frightening, even. So much so that you finally pulled away after long moments of getting lost in one another’s lips. But you didn’t untangle yourself from his arms. You simply stared up at him and he down at you. You should’ve pulled away. You should’ve told him no.

But you caved. He was your kryptonite after all.

You pulled him back down to meet your lips, igniting the fire between you both once more. In that moment, the trial, his failed marriage – everything ­– dissolved into the background. It was just you and Andy.

“I love you.” His words muffled by the kiss, but you heard it all the same.

-=+=-

“It’s not my place, Andy.” You told him as he begged you again to stay.

“I won’t get through this without you.” He said the same words that kept you in town for his son’s trial.

Your heart broke for him. It really did.

After the trial, Andy made good on his word. He and Laurie understood that their marriage was unsalvageable. Co-parenting would’ve worked for them. They were still a good team. Laurie even suggested that Andy should have full custody of Jacob and they could alternate major holidays. It was a good plan. The divorce hadn’t been finalized yet, but the decision was already made – perhaps it was made years ago and was only acknowledged now.

You and Andy decided to start over together.

No lies. No deception. Just the pure, unadulterated truth.

Andy started this new life by confiding in you that his father orchestrated Leonard Patz’s confession and suicide. Although neither of you spoke about it, the question still hung in your heads – was Jacob guilty after all?

Andy was eager to leave Newton as you were. You were thinking about moving to New York City – Jacob was excited about it – though Los Angeles and Houston were still in the conversation. You both wanted a change. Perhaps a big city would’ve been a perfect fit for your new life together.  

But then disaster struck. It was Laurie’s weekend with Jacob. There an accident… or what appeared to be one. Jacob was killed on impact. Laurie left in a coma.

And just like that, your new life was put on hold.

Andy was being summoned to court.

Loguidice was building a case that suggested that Laurie purposely murdered their son. Unsure if you could take another trial, you wanted to leave. You were prepared to leave with or without Andy.

But you were the last thing Andy had in his life. His soon-to-be ex wife was comatose, and his son was gone. Your heart broke for him.

He needed you now like how you needed him.

Andy begged you to stay.

So, you did. 

[jurijurijurious]

Writerly ephemera meme

I was tagged by @thisbluespirit in this rather intriguing meme!

Find five bits of yourself that you gave to your fiction (memories and places and phrases and things into our stories), post and tag five or more writers to share as well.

Now I know I do write bits of myself and my experiences into my stories, one way or another, I think everyone does, but it doesn’t half put you on the spot when you have to try to remember where you’ve done it!

1) I know that recently I wrote Walsingham passing out at the end of a scene in “Mea Culpa”. The entire description is based on personal experience. I went through a scary few years as a young teen where I would pass out for little to no reason, usually at school where there were lots of people watching to cause me huge embarrassment, which then almost gave me a form of PTSD. I was constantly anxious about fainting, it was not good, and we never found out why it happened. But that’s another story... I still occasionally pass out but it’s usually for a reason, after having a vaccine or blood taken or something, but the whole process of fainting, though horrible, is like an old nemesis to me, uncomfortably familiar. I generally feel intense sickness in my stomach, my vision is puckered increasingly with white dots, my entire body comes out in a sweat, and I hear a high pitched whistle-type noise as I lose consciousness. And so since that is my experience, it became Wals’s too:

His palms sweated, his pulse raced...  He shuddered and emitted another strangled breath, fingers white where he clutched the window sill, body trembling.  He needed rest.  Ursula's voice was becoming distant, the room was swaying like the deck of a ship caught in a storm.  He felt a sudden nausea in his stomach, could hear a high pitched sound in his ears, a siren's wail beckoning him into the abyss.

“I am sorry.  So very sorry,” he whispered, though he knew not exactly who he was addressing.  His own voice now sounded as if it was coming from underwater, far away; he was drowning and could resist no more, slipped where he stood and descended into the open arms of oblivion.

2) This is another Walsibeth example I’m afraid because I haven’t written anything else for about a decade! So... Though the pandemic and my lack of funds has put a temporary hold to my hobby of horse riding, I am a half-capable rider and love tearing across country if opportunity allows on horseback. I can thus write people riding horses (English style, anyway) with a degree of accuracy. So in my smutty one-shot fic “In perpetuum et unum diem” (the one which is mostly a pastiche of the raunchy finale of “The Tudors” season 1, and also an excuse for me to write shameless sex), I began the ficlet with a bit of a horse-race between Bess and Wals to get the blood up (a scene that in itself mirrors Elizabeth’s racing with Raleigh in TGA, I later realised). Though I personally haven’t raced a person on horseback per se, I have done beach rides and also ridden on a horseback safari in Africa where you gallop as a group, and “giving your horse its head” is the order of the day! So a lot of this passage is me:

She turned her head back over her shoulder and caught Francis’ eyes.  His lip quirked slightly at the corner but otherwise there was no change to his countenance.  But that was enough.  Her smile deepend as if to invite him to race her and she turned her head back around, gave her dappled grey mare its head and pressed her calves to its flanks.  And the beast responded, driving its legs harder, faster, into a gallop and flew like a falcon through the trees.

...

As the wind flew in Elizabeth’s face, making her eyes water, a great whoop of exhilaration escaped her.  There was nothing but her and the horse, and the knowledge that her blackguard of a lover galloped behind her.  This was what it should feel like to live, even in tragically brief snippets; to feel the blood in your veins, the air in your chest, and the sun on your face, wild and free.

They then jump a tree trunk which I’d love to say I’d do, and I might, but most of my falls have been from jumping so I’d probably wimp out and go the long way around... ;)

3) Annnd another one from my Walsibeth fic “Mea Culpa”, just because it’s fresh in my mind. When I was driving to work last winter, there was one Sunday morning which had a jaw-droppingly beautiful sunrise. I tried to take a photo of it but could not do it justice. I did find a photo of Lincoln Cathedral on instagram from the same morning though which captured the sky perfectly. It literally looked like the sky was on fire, or something, and I immediately worked this memory into my story! I felt that a sky like that would make the perfect backdrop for a single, forlorn, broken bastard riding his horse in a clear, freezing morning:

There was a strange light in the sky as the sun began to make its ascent.  It turned a deep crimson then lifted to shades of rich amber and gold; this combined with the few grey clouds passing overhead gave it the illusion of a huge fire, as if a great furnace now filled the heavens.  Some might have called it beautiful, others would see a grim omen.

4) I had a look in my dreaded old fic archive, so full of cringe, and I found this from the end of my Doctor Who fic “Choices”, which I reckon I wrote between 2005-2006, possibly finishing it later than that. This scene right at the end (told from the perspective of Rose and the ninth Doctor’s daughter, Hope) is literally my old senior school - the class length, the finish time, the uniform was what I wore, and my history teacher was Mrs. Gaskin, and my mum would be waiting in her car to pick me and my sisters up:

By a quarter-to-three in the afternoon, she was in another History lesson with Mrs. Gaskin, and was spending another forty-five minutes hearing about the Black Death, the plague doctors, and the red crosses that were painted on people’s doors. It was fascinating, but Hope’s concentration wasn’t there. She kept looking out of the window at the school yard, noticing the little details that other days she would take for granted - like the way the trees swayed in the wind, the way a crisp-packet rolled across the concrete, and the pure azure-blue colour of the cloudless sky. Something was afoot but she had no idea what it was, or why she was feeling this way.

The bell rang finally at the end of the lesson, as the clock read three-thirty, and the class disappeared swiftly out of the door. It was home time! The voices of myriads of children echoed and shrilled down the corridors, and desperate feet, eager to get home, pounded down the stairs, making for the exits. White shirts were un-tucked from trouser and skirt hems, blue-and-red ties were loosened from about shirt collars, and black blazers were thrown off and carried over shoulders as the mass of pupils took flight.

Hope, however, took things slowly, almost as if she might never see them again, picking up on every smile, every individual laugh, and every joke pulled on every unsuspecting victim. She waved goodbye to friends, hitched her backpack over her shoulder, and made her way out of the school gates toward the spot where her mum or Uncle Jack would usually be waiting to pick her up. As she turned the corner onto Petunia Grove, though, she stopped and sighed. The car - either her mum’s or Jack’s - was not there.

Hope pursed her lips and shrugged, taking another good look around just to make sure that she hadn’t missed it, but there wasn’t a familiar car in sight. She thus let her bag slip off her shoulder, and she perched her backside on the street sign, swinging one of her feet back and forth as she waited for the arrival of her escort.

In the meantime, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander again, as it had been doing often throughout the day, and looked around the street. There was a blue tit on the hedge over the road, stood near a couple of sparrows and a robin. The front door of house number five was a brilliant shade of red, something which she had never really noticed before, and there was some graffiti on the road sign on the opposite side of the street. It read ‘Bad’ something or other, but she couldn’t read the other word since it was blocked off by the blue box.

Hope blinked and slowly rose to her feet. It couldn’t be…

5) And for number five, this is a short extract from the an unpublished Star Wars fic I wrote around 2010, where I tried for what must have been the third time to re-write the Star Wars nonsense I wrote as a teenager, all starring my very Mary Sue OC, Nadia, who became Vader’s apprentice and was mentored by Veers. I have here again worked my experiences of passing out into the story - a psychologist would have a field day with me. Nadia’s thoughts about showing weakness were also real fears of mine - I never liked to be weak, to be ill, to be a burden, and my character was the mouthpiece for my own self-disgust. It’s written in the first person with Nadia narrating in this scene where she accompanies General (Maximilian) Veers to the Kaminoan’s cloning facility to review further batches of troops and is taken ill by the experience of seeing the thousands of farmed foetuses:

Max nodded whilst I remained breathless and shaky in his shadow. I could not get those tiny, wriggling foetuses out of many head - they floated upon my consciousness, their inhuman eyes glaring into my face and their tiny hands reaching out toward me. I tried to rid myself of these infantile phantoms, but I could not, and I suddenly felt quite ill.

“We shall need many more in our next delivery,” Max told the creature, who began to babble on about the problems of this request, but was halted mid-sentence when Maximilian wheeled about and grabbed me, saying my name over and over. He disappeared amidst the snowstorm of white dots that littered my vision, however, and I collapsed upon the floor.

The next thing I knew, I was waking up in a bright, white room. The walls dazzled me for a moment and it took my eyes and my mind time to adjust and to recognise reality. I looked slowly at the plain walls, finding myself alone upon a bed with my hands by my sides and a drip feeding liquid into my arm. This seemed quite surreal - I knew I was not ill enough to warrant this - but I resolved to stay put until someone came to me. I felt extremely tired and I thought that I may as well take advantage of the rest.

I fell back to sleep again and, when I next woke, I saw Max sat in a chair beside me. I glanced about the room - we were alone. I looked at him uncertainly, my visage undoubtedly betraying the signs of my mortification, for he first said: “Do not worry, Nadia, I am not angry with you. It cannot always be helped.”

...

I wanted to defy him, to be strong, but no, I just showed him weakness and insecurity. What indignity was this?

Thanks for the tag, that was fun! I can’t think of 5 writers to tag but off the top of my head: @feuillesmortes, @robins-treasure and @captainofthegreenpeas? Have a go if you fancy.

[fandomsyoulove]

All the events that lead to Sirius running away from his family.

Sirius Black x reader, Sirius Black x Potter reader, Regulus Black x reader.

Summary: A ball in Grimauld Place doesnt end as expected either for Sirius Black or Lena Potter, James´s sister.

Author´s note: Okay, this is a part of a story Ive been writting lately. I never post what I write, but I just felt like sharing it. If someone wants it I can upload more parts. Thank you xx. PD: Enlgish is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes.

Words: 3200. 

Lena breathed deeply standing in the mirror. Regulus had invited her to their family yearly ball and she was mortified. She was so done with that family, they were ruinous, bad people. Her mind drifted to the two brothers. Regulus would be glad she was going, and she also felt that Sirius would appreciate it. After their rendevouz in the Room of Requirements their friendship was as strong as ever. She would spend more time with the Marauders since then, distancing herself from her Slytherin boys, to the Gryffindors joy. She knew how bad the two boys had it and wished time and time again that she had any power over them and she could just bring them home, away from those irresponsible parents.

It was not only Walburga and Orion that she had to worry about, it was also Bellatrix, and Narcisa's boyfriend, Lucius. Pureblood supremacy talk was the usual take in these events and she really dreaded to go. How in their right mind would want to spend hours in the same room as all of those racist supremacists? It was tiresome, to say the least. Still, as always, she couldn't help to want their approval. So she had bought a green dress with some straps on the back. It was silky, and she hoped to blend in. Obviously, she had Reg in mind. She wanted to make an impression on him. They had been together for the whole year and she felt the need to constantly live up to his standards. Of course he had the same pressure, they both shared it, that's why the two had to be perfect.

Ever since the room of requirements incident, in which Lena and Sirius had almost kissed each other, on multiple occasions, she had tried not to think about his words. That confession she was not supposed to have heard. Well if it had been for Sirius, he would have woken her up and told her. But she knew he had his brother to think of. And so did she. Thats why she concentrated hard in being his friend now more than ever. She figured that if she was to keep on with these confusing feelings, she would have to maintain their friendship, not talking would just make her want to see him even more.

All of these thoughts clouded her mind as she was putting on her make up. Her lips a bright red, his eye shadow dark. Just in that instant, his brother made an appearance.

- My, my, sis you look stuning.- he complimented her as he turned her and the dress lightly swayed.

- Thanks, James.- she smiled and soon James turned serious.

- I need to ask you something. - he pleaded, the girl just nodded asking him to continue. - Can you please have an eye on Padfoot?- he asked preocupied for his friend.

- I will, dont you worry. He is my friend as well.- she responded taking his hand.

- I know, I know. Its just, I wish I could be there with him. He never talks about it, just curses his mother over and over again. - the girl nodded.

- I know, dont worry about that. You are a good friend. - she was quick to reply.

- I try.- he smiled once again, hugging his sister before they made their way out to where their parents were hanging out.

- You look absolutely gorgeous.- Euphemia Potter took her in.

- Thank Merlin Regulus is a chivalrous kid.- Fleamont raised his brows.- You really are stunning, Lena. - he complimented. She smiled once again, lightly caressing her curly short hair so it would fall into place.

- I better get going.- she finally spoke making her way to the fireplace.

- Grimlaud place 12.- she shouted, careful not to get ashes on her dress.

When she arrived, the room was abandoned, except for Sirius Black.

- Lena!- he greated smirking as always. He quickly hugged her, not really taking in her appeareance until they backed from the other. His hand grabbed hers.

- You look so amazing! That dress fits you in every place.- he spoke bewilded with the girl who had a large smile on her face.- I wish it were red but hey, at least it has a slit on the leg. - his eyes roamed over her, who was already red from all the blushing.

- You look great as well, Siri. I mean you usually look good, more than good. But that tunic is working miracles.- she began talking, not knowing what had come over her.

- Be careful now. One would think that you wanted some of this.- he gestured to himself. The girl laughed loudly, and suddenly, Regulus was at the door. The two quickly separated.

- Reg!- she screamed, hugging him tightly, not noticing Sirius threatening expression.

- I thought you couldn't be prettier, guess I was wrong.- he looked at her adoringly, just as Sirius had a few moments ago.

- Well I thought the same, none of us was right.- both laughed before kissing. The older brother gagged behind them before making his way to the ball on the living room.

- I missed you.- she spoke while she caressed his face. He smiled at this, finally in comfort in her hands.

- I did too, more than you know.- he replied grabbing her hands and linking them over his chest.

- Well, we shouldn't keep the others waiting should we?- she smiled, trying to cheer him up.

- We will leave them breathless, even Cissy and that Malfoy.- he replied and both laughing made their way to the ball.

The black hall was decorated with plenty of silver and green decorations. Lena stared at the room in awe, and also a little bit disgusted. It was dark, with the black walls and all, the only light coming from the gigantic lights.

The two tried to walk with confidence. Her hand on his, holding it tightly, reasuringly.

Soon everybody's atention was on them. Some compliments from Walburga, Orion being proud of the Slytherin colours, Narcissa loving the hair. All viewed by a lurking Sirius that already had a glass of wine in his hand.

- You love her, dont you?- his favourite cousin stood next to him, in a gorgeous black dress.

- I dont know what your talking about.- he tried to play it cool, drinking some more wine.

- Cmon, Sirius. It is quite obvious. You cannot keep your eyes from her. - she replied, trying to get him to confess.

- Maybe I do. But I cant do anything about it.- he said lowly, dwoning yet another cup, this time champagne.

- It is a terrible situation you find yourself in. Both options ahead of you, you can try to be the good brother, or go for the girl. - she reasoned.

- Where is Ted?- Sirius tried to change the topic but his tone was harsh.

- Shhh, keep quiet will you?- she pleaded hoping that no one had heard.

-Ah, but that is a terrible situation.- Sirius spoke bitterly. To which his cousin just replied.

- I dont care that you are heartbroken, dont mention him here. That is a very sensible topic.- she spoke, serious all of a sudden.

- Im sorry. Alcohol and anger are not a good mix.- he tried to sound remorseful. The older Black understood and just left him.

Over and over again Sirius cursed himself. He should've told her over the moments he had this past year. Why hadnt him? How could he let this happen? Lena was dancing gracefully with Regulus, both laughing at something she had said. His hateful parents stared at the couple grinning. Lena and Reg were the perfect couple and everybody knew it. How could he have allowed this to happen. It should be him, dancing with her. It should be him making her laugh. It should be him, who his parents would gaze at with pride.

But there he was, already having a few too many drinks. Making a show of himself, perpetuating the view his family had of him. It was crazy how much he despised every single one of them. He wanted to take the girl, runaway with her and never turn back.

A few hours passed and nothing seemed to change. Every once in a while his parents would scold him for drinking too much or asking him to stop sulking around. But what else could he do? When the girl he adored didnt leave his brotherss side.

Even Andromeda was dancing with the couple, seeming to be very close with the Potter. Slytherin budies, Sirius thought. He felt betrayed, miserable, this was unberable. He needed to leave, he could only hope that the night would end soon. But oh how wrong he was.

- It seems like you are having a great time.- the only moment he had taken his eyes off her, she had made her way towards him.

- Haha, youre funny. - he resorted.

- Cmon, Siri. Ive seen you all night only moving to grab more drinks. You are the life of the party.- she continued to joke.

- Well this is hell. - he added staring at her with anger.

- I know, right?- she replied laughing to which he raised his brows. - What?- she asked taking his cup and drinking from it.

- You dont seem too bad with Reggie and my lovely parents.- he said bitterly.

- How have you sneaked firewhiskey in here?- she wondered taking another big gulp from it, without ackonwledging him.

- shhh. - he tried shutting her up, but her laugh was contagious.

- Oh Cmon. - she laughed again grabbing his arm.

- Lena, Ive had way too much to drink and I see that you are served as well so maybe try to lay off the booze. - his attempt at being responsible was cut off by the girl.

- Im not that bad, you aren't either. Now, we should dance.- she reached for his hand.

The boy just stared at the gorgeous girl, this was his dream, wasn't it?

- Cmon, Reg is dancing with your mum and I really dont want to dance with your father. So please.- she pleaded with puppy eyes. Sirius felt like he couldnt move, not saying a word, his eyes fixed on her. - Sirius, are you with us?- she asked when she didnt get a response. Finally, breaking from his trance, the boy took her hand and smiled.

- Ive been waiting the whole night for you to ask me to dance.- he whispered in her ear once they linked arms at the dance floor. She just smiled, squeezing his hand tighter. He, in response, gripped her waist. She found it hard to breathe, not daring to look at him. Soon they were waltzing around the room. Neither could say a word, only the music could be heard. Their eyes fixed on the others. They moved gracefully, without paying much atention to the rest. They didnt notice the stranged look on Sirius parents, or Regs anoyed look.

- Im sorry. Ive tried to come to you a few times, but Reg wouldnt allow me to leave his side. - she finally spoke as a slower song played and they continued moving through the hall.

- Dont worry, the wait was worth it.- he replied, and another smile crept into her face. His grey eyes on her hazels. Suddenly, Sirius turned her around, and when they were back face to face, she noticed his stern look, she mimicked him, not knowing if she had done something wrong. - I dont like Regulus treating you like that. - he stated, his eyes everywhere but on her.

- He needs me, Siri. - she quickly replied as they tilted to the side. - Besides, I knew I would be able to see you after some time. - she added. - If I really had wanted to, trust me, I would have come. - Sirius frown became wider.

- I knew the wait would make this more worth a while.- she whispered in his ear, her lips barely centimeters away. He breathed in deeply, closing his eyes, smelling her perfume, she was so close to him.

The song ended abruptly and they separated to applaud, still gazing at the other.

Andromeda made her way towards them looking stunning.

- Im sorry darling. - she referred to the girl. - I havent danced with my cousin for the whole night. Would you mind?- she pleaded, looking at the younger Black that still hadnt processed what had happened.

- Of course, Drome.- she said lovingly to her friend. - Ill leave you to it.- she added smiling, her hand reaching for his arm for a few seconds.

The boy turned quickly when she walked past him, but soon, his cousin moved his head with her hands to fix his gaze on her.

- You are so in love.- she smiled, her dark eyes filled with love for him.

- I cannot help it. - he turned them around so he could stare at her once again. - She is perfect.- he added, lovestruck. His lips parted, adoration clear in his eyes.

- I dont know how this will turn out, but either way Im invested.- Andromeda joked, messing with Sirius hair, making him turn towards her annoyed, but smiling deep down.

A few more hours passed, without much trouble. Sirius had some laughs with Andromeda, Lena was able to dance with him for another long while. He supposed this was the best he could have expected for the night. Of course some of the firewhiskey he had drowned in helped too.

Everything seemed to have turned out fine in the end. That was until he heard Malfoy speak. He had tried to avoid listening to them, staying as far away as he could from them. But he was next to his cousin that was tying her shoe when he heard a name too familiar to him.

- Take Lilly Evans, she is a mud-blood, but she tries to seem smarter.- Sirius was used to them boasting about blood superiority, he could pass that, knowing that if he reacted, only Andromeda and Lena would help him.

- She is a know-it-all. But when we put them into place, theyll know what is good. All of that intelligence wont be worth much.- Bellatrix added, disgusted.

The boy balled his hands into fists, his breathing erratic. If James were here, he wouldnt allow any of this. How could he? He was no better than any of them. He was sick and tired of this. Next to him, Lena appeared grabbing his hand.

- I cant wait for the day those people dont atend Hogwarts. The school would be just as it should be, without mudbloods. Just as Salazar Slytherin would have wanted. - Lucius agreed with the Black sister. Narcissa keeping quiet.

Andromeda stood next to the couple, also trying to think what to do. Sirius parents were on the other side of the hall, with Regulus, talking with some ministry people. The boy felt the anger boiling in him, his heartbeat racing.

- Malfoy, the school wont be perfect until you are gone.- he quickly made his way towards him, the two girls following him.

- Ah, blood traitor, you are the next, after the clensing of the mudbloods. - Bellatrix hissed at him, Rodolphus joining them.

- Im so ashamed to share your last name.- Sirius resorted, going towards her, wand in hand. But Rabastan stepped in front of her and Lena grabbed his arm.

- Sirius, its not worth it.- Lena tried to reason with him, pleading him with her soft gaze and calm voice. The boy began calming his breathing before turning around.

- A blood traitor and a coward, you have it all, dear cousin. Why Orion and Walburga put up with you scapes my knowledge. - Bellatrix lunged for him, ending in Rodolphuss arms, holding her.

- Shut up you crazy bitch!- Sirius didnt have time to think about what he was doing, before grabbing his wand again.

-Sirius!- Lena shouted but he was already gone.

- You dare talk to me like that? Gryffindor.- his cousin kept trying to get him angrier.

Soon Sirius and her were face to face, wand at the other. Everyone had turned to them, including Sirius parents. Their son had his back towards them, one look from his wife and Orion knew what to do.

- Expeliermus!- Sirius ended up on the floor, his wand on the other side of the room. Bellatrix and Lucius laughed while Walburga began shouting at his son.

- What the hell?- Lena screamed, having too much of this family, quickly reaching Sirius.

- Are you okay?- she asked taking his head on her hands, supporting him on her knees.

- My head hurts.- he exclaimed, his hand reaching hers.

- Leave with me. - she pleaded, tears on her eyes. Both stayed like that while the party ended.

The people from the ministry left, and soon only the closest Black family members stayed. Regulus made his way towards the two, after being scolded by his mother on how Lena had acted.

- Lena, you have to go. - he tried grabbing her arm standing, but she yanked him away.

- You should leave. Both of you, come with me, now.- she begged time and time again, her vision now blurry.

Both Black brothers saw her in distress, not knowing what to do. While Walburga cursed his son, and Bellatrix accompanied her, Sirius took her hands and moved them from his face.

- Its okay, Lena. You dont want to be on the other end of her rage. - he said lowly. Regulus just stared, not knowing how to feel.

- I can´t leave you here.- she said between sobs.

- Ill be fine, I always am, arent I?- he tried to smile to the girl that held his heart. She nodded before helping him up.

- I love you.- she whispered in his ear as she hugged him goodbye.

- I love you too.- he responded, before she kissed his cheek.

Then, drying her tears, she made her way to Regulus that was still in shock. When she reached him, he reacted, leading her to the living room. None could speak, both feeling too many things all at once. Rage, horror, impotence, love. They didnt even share a single touch on the way.

- Bye, Regulus.- she said bluntly before turning for the chimney.

[captain--sif]

Object Impermanence for Beginners

Words: 1.3k Fandom: Julie and The Phantoms (TV 2020) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Julie Molina & Reggie Peters, Alex Mercer & Julie Molina & Luke Patterson & Reggie Peters Characters: Julie Molina, Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms) Additional Tags: Object Impermanence, Ghost Shenanigans, Dumbasses (affectionate), Forgetting that they're ghosts, Hanging Out, Inside jokes Summary:

Being in a band that's three fourth ghosts can be pretty fun, Julie has to admit.

Sure,  there's the whole object impermanence thing they still struggle with, but for the most part, once you get used to having them around, it becomes surprisingly easy to forget that her bandmates are not, in fact, human.

Julie tries not to let it become a problem. A/N: for @unholyobsessions as part of the JATP Secret Valentine Exchange. I’m so sorry I’ve only been able to post this now. I had a mental health episode that I did not see coming and kept me from being able to post. I hope you still enjoy this. It’s mainly Julie & Reggie, but some other characters have smaller or bigger appearances. Thanks go to @the-sneering-menagerie  for beta reading this! <3 Read on AO3, on wattpad, or below:

Being in a band that’s three fourth ghosts can be pretty fun, Julie has to admit.

Sure, it’s taken all of them a while to get used to everything that comes along with it, especially her, but Julie thinks that they’re doing a pretty great job by now.

And yeah, there’s the whole object impermanence thing they still struggle with, but for the most part, once you get used to having them around (constantly, as Julie sometimes mourns, but always in good humor), it becomes surprisingly easy to forget that her bandmates are not, in fact, human.

Julie feels like, as the token human member of the band, she’s the only one slipping up on that account. Considering Flynn has been the first and so far only person to point it out to her, it’s safe to assume that the boys haven’t even noticed. For the sake of all of their sanity, she promises Flynn to work on it, but, even though Julie has always preferred music to maths, she still knows that the odds of her succeeding converge to zero.

In Julie’s defense: When she’s lounging on the couch in the music room, essentially mirroring Reggie’s position next to her, both of them listening to what Luke and Alex are working on while Reggie browses through a magazine and Julie scrolls through her Instagram feed, it’s easy to forget that they’re not the same. It’s very easy to get fooled by the mundanity they fell into.

Once Julie registers what just happened, she doesn’t even remember what Reggie said, only that it was funny, and that she had offered him a high five in response, as well as the tingling sensation going through her arm when he’d tried to reciprocate her gesture. The two of them keep staring at their hands and the point in the air where they failed to connect, wondering where their high five went wrong.

“Well, that was unexpected,” Reggie says drily and Julie bursts into laughter.

It’s not that funny, but Reggie joins in after a beat and they don’t stop laughing until long after Alex and Luke stopped playing and share a worried look over the state of their friends.

When she’s thinking about it later, the failed high five serves as a calming reminder that Julie’s not alone in this.

It also helps that it keeps happening.

The day is windy and cold, clouds slowly darkening overhead and making Julie believe it’ll probably start raining soon.

All in all, not the best weather conditions. For a human, that is. Reggie next to her doesn’t seem bothered in the least.

Which is good, Julie thinks to herself, as he may have decided against keeping her company otherwise, quickly poofing back into the warmth of the studio, leaving her cold and alone, instead of just cold.

“What’s wrong?” Reggie asks then, causing her to subconsciously wrap her thin cardigan more tightly around her shoulders.

“Oh you’re cold,” he realizes, stripping off his leather jacket, “you can have my jacket if you want.”

Julie furrows her brows as he proceeds to cautiously drape it over her shoulders, only for it to softly float down towards the ground, as if Julie was made of air. Well, no. It’s the jacket that’s made of air.

“That was unexpected,” Julie quips, lacing her words with teasing irony, startling a laugh out of Reggie.

Picking his jacket off the ground, he crosses his arm defensively.

“How was I supposed to know that my jacket is a ghost too?”

This time, it is kind of funny.

Her dad only lifts an eyebrow in question when he comes to retrieve her, soaked through but giddy with laughter. Reggie responds with a smug smile, for once both of them aware that Ray won’t be able to see it.

Other times, it isn’t quite as funny.

Like the time when they’re backstage at one of the bigger venues (those that Julie is afraid to ask how Flynn got them to play at), where there’s a lot of people, but the corridors are still empty.

Julie’s been making music her whole life, been backstage more times than she can count, but the bigger venues never stopped being a little terrifying.

The boys are poofing in and out of rooms and corridors, their curiosity knowing no bounds, their movements not limited by having to be granted access to pass. It’s fun hearing what they discover, small and big practice rooms, signed posters on the walls, rare instruments collecting dust under protective coverings. She wishes she could see it herself.

But mostly, she wishes that Flynn were walking with her to keep her company in these dimly lit corridors with the sickly artificial lights while the boys disappeared in discovery. Still, she wasn’t about to ask them not to. She wants that info of what’s hiding behind the closed doors just as much as them. She can handle some weirdly lit concert hall hallways on her own.

But then Reggie poofs back in next to her with the words, “Alex thinks we should take turns staying with you because you seem uncomfortable.” and Julie exhales.

“The hallways are a little creepy,” she admits, shrugging.

Reggie nods. “Don’t be scared. I’m right here,” he says, and Julie has to admit that she feels better having someone by her side.

Then he adds: “I’m gonna protect you.”

Julie says nothing, just clears her throat, careful not to make him self-conscious.

“I did it again, didn’t I?”

“Yeah.” She smiles at him. “For what it’s worth, I do feel safer with you here. Even if you can’t protect me.”

They stay quiet for a while, just walking past the doors that lead to the other practice and storage rooms, listening to the echo of their steps on the linoleum floor.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Reggie asks, and Julie gets the feeling that he’s been stewing on that for a while.

“The ghost thing?” she says, “Uh, yeah.”

“That too.” He shrugs. “But I don’t really mind it. Of all the supernatural beings that could exist and that we could be, ghosts are kinda chill.” There’s a small smile playing around his lips now. Julie nods along.

“We’re still together, and we met you, so that’s cool. We adapted quickly, and so have you, but…”

She turns her head to a surprisingly quiet Reggie, a contemplative look on his face.

“Sometimes you still slip up and forget what it means to be a ghost?” Julie prompts, searching. Finally, she sighs. “Me too.”

Reggie sways in her direction. Julie draws her eyebrows together, then laughs.

“Was that supposed to be a shoulder bump?”

Reggie covers his face with his hands a little too forcefully for it not to have hurt. If ghosts feel that kind of pain.

“Yes, it was.” He sighs exasperatedly. “Why does that happen to us?”

“I think,” Julie says, “that it happens to remind us that you still have unfinished business you have to get to.” More quietly, “And to remind me that I won’t be able to keep you forever.”

“That’s sad,” Reggie says.

Julie shrugs noncommittally. “It’s life, I guess.”

“And death, in our case,” Reggie adds.

That puts a reluctant smile on Julie’s face. “And death, in your case.”

“Do you think that if we just never do our unfinished business, the four of us could stay together?”

“That would be nice.” Julie sways towards Reggie, imitating his earlier shoulder bump.

Reggie answers with a grin.

That’s when a tingling sensation through her whole body causes Julie to stumble. Once she’s caught herself, she looks towards Reggie, who fell a few steps back, now half-obscured by the body he ran into. She recognizes the pink sweater.

“We didn’t aim well,” Alex apologizes.

Julie concludes that she must have walked through Luke then, turning in the direction she expects him to be in.

“You okay?” She finds herself looking up to worry etched onto his face and a hand outstretched to steady her.

A hand outstretched to steady her.

Her gaze flits to Reggie, only to see that his eyes have caught it too. He lifts his eyes to meet hers and god, does she wish they had a better reason to burst into laughter.

AO3. Wattpad.

[aseriesofunfortunatetexts]

Frank/Beatrice, unrequited?

I couldn’t manage it exactly (I assume this was a request for the AU meme), because I don’t really see them as anything but a wonderful brotp, but I did produce something. Something that exceeds three sentences by... quite a bit. It’s 2000 words.

I put it on AO3 too, in case you’d prefer to read it there. Enjoy!

***

Ernest can move very silently - when he wants to, that is. Usually his modus operandi is to start talking while he is approaching you, let people know he’s coming to put them at ease even before letting his affable demeanor do the rest. It works surprisingly well, even with members of the VFD, who really ought to know better than to fall for that rather simple technique.

But tonight Ernest allows the music and chatter of the hotel ballroom to drown out the sound of his swift footsteps, which is why Frank only notices him when he appears behind Frank’s left shoulder, leaning in and speaking in his ear, just loud enough to be heard over all the noise; “She’s looking quite radiant this evening, isn’t she?”

Frank doesn’t jump, but that’s only due to his years of training, training that drilled into him the importance of not showing the sort of weakness you show when being outwardly startled by something. If they think they can surprise you and you’ll be alarmed by that, it gives your opponent the upper hand.

So Frank remains perfectly still and keeps his expression carefully blank while Ernest moves to stand by his side, where he can observe Frank better, making it easier for him to tailor his words for maximum effect if Frank shows even a modicum of emotion. He decides not to give his brother the pleasure tonight.

Now for an equally pressing issue; what the hell Ernest is talking about. Frank had been idly watching the crowd from his position at the edge of the bar, and while his eyes did have a tendency to land on a particular gentleman, that doesn’t warrant… oh. Ernest thinks he’s been looking at the man’s dance partner.

To be fair, out of the two of them, who wouldn’t be looking a Beatrice?

Frank almost smiles when he realizes the extent of his brother’s miscalculation. But only almost. He needs to decide how to respond, and the obvious choice is to confirm Ernest’s own suspicions to draw him off the scent and keep Frank’s secret carefully protected.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says, keeping his tone neutral.

Ernest does what anyone would do and takes that denial as solid confirmation that he is correct. “You can’t take your eyes off her, Frank, and you’re not being subtle.”

That much is becoming obvious, and he’s lucky that Ernest is making false assumptions based on who would be more likely to be the center of anyone’s attention, otherwise Frank would be in trouble.

He still might be, he realizes, when Ernest raises his hand and calls out “Beatrice!” loud enough to be heard from the dancefloor.

Beatrice does look radiant tonight, in a deep red ballgown that sways along with her when she waltzes across the floor, and when she sharply turns her head in their direction, her dark curls bounce, a visually appealing sight. When she locates them, she immediately turns to her dance partner and whispers something in his ear. He kisses the back of her hand and lets her go. As she approaches the two brothers, her smile grows increasingly bright, even when she’s aiming it at Ernest.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” she says once she has reached them. “You throw quite the party.”

Frank allows himself a reaction, the hint of a smile, because he actually did a lot of the planning and he is a little bit proud of the results, but mostly it’s to keep up the charade.

As he hoped, Ernest sees the change in his expression and misinterprets it once more, and out of the corner of his eye Frank can see him beaming, practically shaking with excitement at what he thinks is a surefire way to gain a new advantage over his brother.

 “My brother might be a bore most of the time, but he knows the theory behind casual human interaction and enjoyment at least,” Ernest says, “And sometimes that’s enough to plan a great party.”

 Frank lets his face darken a little at the casual insult just to keep Ernest thinking he’s winning this game.

 And he must be quite confident that he is, because he goes straight for the jugular next; “You look stunning tonight, Beatrice.” He turns to his brother. “Don’t you think so, Frank?”

 God, he is so predictable. If he didn’t know any better, Frank would think it was all a clever double bluff of some sort, rather than a serious attempt to humiliate him and make him uncomfortable.

 At least he knows how Ernest expect him to react – defensively - and he might as well give him the pleasure. “Quite,” he says, tilting his chin up a little to appear haughty.

 Beatrice purses her lips to keep from smiling, and then immediately loses the struggle and grins anyway. “Such a charmer,” she teases.

 Ernest laughs, delighted. The would-be puppet master, always so proud of his work, to the point where he doesn’t even think to stop and consider the validity of his theories once in a while.

 “Would you care to dance, Frank?” Beatrice asks, and for a moment Frank just stares at her. He hasn’t had the time to consider what game Beatrice is currently playing, and it’s disturbing his equilibrium to a worrisome degree.

 “Of course he would,” Ernest replies for him, voice laced with amusement, “He loves dancing.”

 Frank hates dancing, and everybody knows it, Beatrice included, so it is extremely frustrating when she holds out her hand in invitation. Frank considers scowling and refusing, but then remembers that he’s supposed to be secretly, tragically in love with her, and takes her hand.

 He knows how to dance, of course, they all learned the usual ballroom dances during their training. Frank happens to be quite good at it too, he just doesn’t enjoy dancing in public. Not like Beatrice, who is so eager that she’s constantly in danger of taking the lead from him.

 As soon as Frank has his hand on her waist, she leans into him and whispers in his ear, “Is he watching?”

 Frank smoothly twirls them around to the music, checking. “He is.”

 Beatrice snorts, “He’s dumber than he looks,” she says, “We might as well take advantage?”

 She’s right, so Frank pulls her closer to his body, much closer than is expected in a classic waltz. “He thinks it’s unrequited,” he tells her.

 Beatrice chuckles, finally beginning to let Frank lead for real. “Should I play into that?”

 “Would you be rude enough to look uncomfortable to be near me, if you thought I was in love with you and you didn’t return my feelings?” Frank asks.

 “Of course not,” Beatrice replies, “I’m not a monster.”

 “Then you should probably act like you’re politely playing along.”

 “We should be cheek to cheek,” Beatrice announces. “Feel free to subtly smell my hair.”

 He does so once they are turned around so Ernest can see the gesture. It smells nice, he distantly notes.

 They keep dancing until the song starts to wind down, and which point Beatrice orders him, “dip me,” and Frank does as he’s told, carefully supporting her as she leans back in an elegant arch.

 The music ends and scattered applause breaks out while the band takes the time to bow before starting the next song. Frank slowly becomes aware that a lot more eyes are on them than he’d expected, and his gut-reaction is to quickly let go of Beatrice and step back. It’s what he would do if he was secretly in love with her and didn’t want people to know, which is probably why Beatrice, always the actress, allows it.

 “Should we get you a drink?” she asks breezily.

 “Please.”

 Ernest is standing right where they left him, at the bar, and he has apparently ordered drinks for them, because Larry is already putting down glasses when they approach. The waiter gives Frank a meaningful look, then reaches for the bottle of their most expensive scotch and pours him a double. Beatrice gets the same.

 He sure that this is Larry’s attempt to help him keep up the act, he’s too observant to fall for it like Ernest is. Frank grabs the glass and knocks back the drink in a couple of mouthfuls, very aware of Ernest’s eyes still on him.

 “Mind if I claim this next dance?” he asks Beatrice while smiling slyly at Frank.

 Beatrice inclines her head gracefully. “Of course.”

 Ernest holds out his arm and Beatrice accepts it, letting him lead her onto the floor without looking back at Frank. An excellent move on her part, Frank thinks.

 He sees Bertrand coming, and even if he hadn’t, Bertrand is already talking as soon as he’s in earshot, “Good evening, Frank,” he greets pleasantly. “What was all that about?”

 Frank sighs. “Ernest thinks I’m in love with your wife.”

 Bertrand laughs, actually laughs. “Oh dear,” he eventually manages. “That’s tragic.”

 “Very tragic,” Frank agrees, eyeing Bertrand warily. He isn’t entirely sure whether Bertrand knows yet, and he doesn’t want to show his cards too soon.

 “To be fair, you were watching us quite intently,” Bertrand teases. “You can’t blame him for making some assumptions.”

 “I suppose not.”

 Bertrand smiles gently at him. “She looks beautiful tonight... -”

 “She looks beautiful every night,” Frank points out.

 Bertrand ignores him. “And I look very handsome in this tux,” he finishes.

 At this point Frank desperately wants another drink, but he probably shouldn’t be clouding his judgement further. “That you do,” he admits instead, a giant leap of faith that he normally wouldn’t make, but Bertrand is still smiling and moving a little closer to him, sliding right into his personal space.

 “Do I get a dance as well?” he asks, partially joking, partially outright flirtatious.

 Frank swallows and tries to keep his expression neutral. “I don’t think that would be the best idea.”

 Bertrand has the audacity to look disappointed before he looks understanding. “Keeping up appearances, as always.”

 “Some of us has to,” Frank says.

 For a moment Bertrand’s reaction borders on pity, but then a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Come with me,” he says, and starts walking away without looking back to check if Frank is following him.

 Frank follows.

 Bertrand leads them to the edge of the ballroom and ducks under the velvet rope stretched across the stairs leading to the rear mezzanine, which Ernest had decided to close off for the night, probably to avoid too many areas where people could linger, scan the crowd, and have secret conversations. Tonight is supposed to be about having fun after all.

 There’s no light up here, so as long as they keep away from the edge, they’re hidden in shadow. That’s definitely the only reason why Frank allows Bertrand to place one hand on his hip, grab his hand with the other, and pull him flush up against him. Frank lets him lead them in a slow dance that doesn’t quite match the tempo of the song the band is playing below, but no one can see them anyway, no one will judge, so Frank follows without protest. Neither does he object when Bertrand gently leans into him until they’re cheek to cheek, or when Bertrand kisses him soon after.

 It’s a bit unlike Bertrand to be so forward, Frank think, as he is pressed back against the wall, but he isn’t about to complain, not with Bertrand’s lips dragging down his neck, along his jaw, finally meeting Frank’s in another heated kiss. It’s nice. More than nice.

 He sighs in disappointment when Bertrand breaks the kiss, vaguely noticing that this song is ending too. More applause from the crowd, and for a second Frank irrationally worries that someone has seen them.

 “Don’t worry. We’re perfectly safe up here.” Bertrand whispers when he notices Frank tensing.

 ‘Until my nosy brother starts looking for us’, Frank thinks, but he doesn’t say anything, mostly because Bertrand is running his fingers through his hair now, digging his fingers into Frank’s scalp and guiding him into another kiss.

 At some point Bertrand briefly lets up, only to murmur, “Hey, Frank?”

 “Yes?”

 He feels Bertrand smile against this cheek. “Happy birthday.”

[bangchanshehe]

The Trespasser pt.4

You were on top of the world with the new title of leader of your family’s clan. You were the strongest clan in all of the orient and you were proud. But your family feels that there are threats still lurking around making you a target. When they introduce you to a potential man for a business and marriage merger will it help your clan or make matters worse?

Word count: 3.7k

Wonho x Reader, Shownu x Reader, Jooheon x Reader

The past few days had flown by and you did lots of menial and dumb tasks to make time go by. Everyone around the house questioned you when they noticed you cleaning the house up or doing lots of overtime, thinking that something was bothering you. But like the holed up and skeptical person you typically are in these types of situations you smiled and replied with a total lie.

The truth was that you were technically okay regardless of how the entire “proposed marriage deal” went, but you just felt still so insecure about how a baiter for a very powerful family would want to get into a marriage at such a young age. Sure, if it had to do with the family business and Marriage for profits it would make sense. But baiters are notoriously known for being completely cut of from their emotions, which is why they can lie and sleep around with people the way that they do. They take but never give anything in return and it made you question Hoseok’s authenticity.

And although you were not looking for an emotional, and legitimate marriage of love you did want for your legal husband real or fake, to be loyal to you and your business and have honest intentions. You could care less if Hoseok was the leader of his family’s clan or not, you just wanted the mutual benefits of being partnered with a Shin.

You went over everything that you wanted to ask Hoseok as you got ready for your meeting at Icon. It was 8:30 and you looked over your figure in the mirror and smiled to yourself. You looked damn good, suited up in a solid black fitted pant suit, and jacket… minus the shirt underneath allowing for your black lace bra to be the focal point of your outfit. You put on your fire engine red lipstick and matching red heels and then strut out of your bathroom.

You felt your phone vibrate and you looked down at the screen

Shownu: Just arrived

You smiled at the text from Shownu and your body instantly relaxed a little bit. You had planned to have him there for a little bit more security, but asked him to blend in with the crowd, so you could talk to Hoseok without any uncertainty on his end.  You grabbed your keys waved bye to the boys and then stepped out into the night air, ready for what was next to come.

  The drive was only 20 minutes from your secluded house and you pulled into the parking lot of Icon in what seemed like no time. You put the car into park, scanned the parking lot to see if you could recognize any vehicles or people walking around and then picked up your phone to text Shownu.

Me: just arrived, about to go ins-

You dropped your phone, when a sudden knocking on your window startled you. You let out a huff and looked over with a glare to whoever caused you to be scared and then relaxed a little when you recognized Hoseok hunched over, looking inside at you with a wide smile.

You picked up your phone, took out the keys and stepped out of your vehicle giving Hoseok only a polite head bow and smile.

“Sorry to scare you” Hoseok said rubbing the back of his head and giving you a smile  “I pulled in at the same time as you and figured it’d be easier to go in at the same time instead of having to look for one another inside.”

“ah, no worries “ you gave in. what he said did make a little sense from a logical standpoint “shall we?” you asked him pointing with your hand towards the building

“yes, please” he said with a megawatt smile  

You walked silently for a moment and as you got closer to the front doors Hoseok cleared his throat and leaned in closer to your ear.

“By the way… you look really good tonight.” He confessed

You turned your head to look at him and then scanned his outfit. He looked really good in black trousers and a black button down shirt tucked into his pants with the top few buttons undone. He knew what he was doing trying to draw attention to his chest and then you laughed to yourself. You were doing the same thing weren’t you? Marketing yourself. His hair was parted nicely and styled back, and his skin looked flawless.

You would typically respond with a polite response back, but Hoseok knew that he was good looking and it was no use using flattery on him.

“thank you” you responded with a small smile before turning back to the doors and entering the loud and busy club, bypassing the people waiting outside to get inside.

As you entered you felt the pulsing of the bass of the music vibrate through your body, and the lights strobe and dance across the club in a hypnotizing manner. The smell of alcohol, cigarettes and sweat clouded your nose and countless bodies, swayed on the dance floor. You lead Hoseok towards the back of the club where there were private booths and took a seat in a corner booth were there were few people and privacy curtains.

As you sat down Hoseok smiled and reached for the curtains, making sure to close them tightly as to block out as much of the music as possible.  You watched his arms as he worked on the fabric, unfashioning it and pulling it to a close.

“Do you want to order anything?” Hoseok asked you

You gave him a small smile and shook your head no.

“I don’t drink in public.” You answered his question

Hoseok raised his eyebrows and nodded his head “good, neither do I, unless its important for a job” he responded. “so… what questions do you have for me?” he asked right off the bat

“lot of things, as I’m sure you could imagine….” You stared off “ first… my parents mentioned that you had seen me many times when I was a child, but I never met you? Why is that?”

Hoseok raised a single eyebrow and contemplated for a moment on how to respond before he gave you a very simple one. “I had a very busy schedule as a child”

“look… I don’t mean to be rude. But if I am even going to consider a contractual marriage with you then I need to know a little bit more about you.” You spoke up and Hoseok shifted in his seat and looked down at the table before looking up at you with a stern expression. “I know that you were in some sort of accident and had an injured back, but why would you even bother coming to see me if you had to leave for such a said busy schedule”

“okay that’s fair” he replied with a deep sigh “when I was 12 I was in a drunk driving accident. The driver hit our car and it caused us to flip and the car caught on fire. I had to have 2 spinal surgeries, jaw reconstruction, titanium plates in my arms and a knee surgery.”

You looked at him with wide eyes as you processed what he told you. You could not even begin to imagine the amount of pain that he had to be in.

“It took a long time to heal and for a long time I was completely wheelchair bound, because my spine and body wasn’t strong enough to support me. I had lots of physical therapy, and because of my condition I wasn’t able to tolerate lots of moving around from place to place or sitting in one spot for long.” He continued

“I’m sorry that happened. That had to be very difficult to get through at such a young age.” You spoke up “but I’m still curious as to why you would still come to events involving me”

Hoseok’s serious demeanor suddenly dropped a little and he let out a small smile and chuckle “actually I’ve been told from a very young age that you would be my wife. Our parents have been planning our marriage for a long time.” He confessed

Your jaw dropped a little and you sat back in your seat remembering your mother call Hoseok her “Son-in-Law”. Had it been anyone else you would have not been so convinced so easily, but you didn’t doubt it for a moment after the whole spectacle your parents put you through at their house.

As soon as you let that idea settle in your mind you decided to ask Hoseok more questions that had been weighing on your mind.

“so is it still true that you have no intentions of pursing the leader position of your family clan?” you asked him

“it’s true. After my accident I had a lot of time to think about my future and what I wanted to do, and I decided that I was lucky enough to get a chance at life so I wanted to do something that would allow me to have a little more time to enjoy my life and the finer things.” He answered

“so then what does this marriage do for you?” you asked him

“well…” he said and then cleared his voice and adjusted his posture “since im physically unable to be the leader, the marriage allows for the clan to stay in control of the shin family. It essentially puts me in the most control without having the title or workload of leader if anything happens to my brother.”

“your brother Is in control now?” you asked and you received a nod in return “and what exactly is your position now?”

“I handle some business deals and negotiations with my brother behind closed doors, but on an everyday basis I usually just bait.” He confessed

“and it doesn’t bother you that you cant take the position?” you asked him

He gave you a smile, but you could tell that he was straining his jaw. You could imagine how difficult it would be to constantly struggle with your position and health. And then to top it off he had to be here with you because he had no other choice, if he wanted anything to do with maintaining the family’s control.  

“of course it bothers me… I’ve been trained since young how to run the business and now all I can do is sit back and watch other people do what I was supposed to do. And don’t get me wrong my brother makes a great leader, but the way he executes some deals really gets on my nerves.”

“that’s understandable” you agreed “since this would be a contractual marriage, how would you expect our family to benefit your business and vice versa?” you asked him

“money and business isn’t an issue, the only thing we are wanting to take from your family through the marriage is a healthier reputation, and if absolutely necessary allyship in times of warfare with other clans.” He answered sincerely

You nodded your head and concentrated on his request “then our needs are similar. This marriage in most needed in our case for reputation as well”

“good” Hoseok said softly

Hoseok gave you a polite smile and you returned one to him. Prior to the meeting you felt very uneasy about the possible outcomes of this meeting, but after talking with Hoseok you realized that they two of you were here for pretty similar reasons.  Hoseok’s clan has a reputation of having the weak son, and your clan was labeled weak because you were a woman. Which made both of you an easy target, but with each other as reinforcement you both become closer to indestructible.

“so lets talk more about you and I and not the business…” you started giving Hoseok a more relaxed impression. Hoseok looked you up and down and gave you a small smile before leaning into the table and crossing his arms Infront of himself “how long do you ideally want for this marriage to last?”

He thought the question over for a minute and then responded “honestly, the longer the better. And I think that stands for the both of us if I’m being honest”

You rolled your eyes slightly at his response  “I’m not saying that I’ve agreed to anything yet, but an indefinite contract marriage is a little… excessive” you said “how would you feel about starting off at 1 year to get comfortable and familiar with one another and the business and then if we still feel as if we can get along and be beneficial to one another we can extend and redraw the contract?”

Hoseok considered the proposal for a solid minute and you held your ground and you gave him a serious look as you maintained eye contact. Finally, he gave you a small smile and then broke his silence.

“do you find me to be unsatisfactory as a potential husband?” he asked you seriously

You laughed and shook your head before giving him a small smile “my request has nothing to do with you not meeting my standards, but everything to do with whether or not I find it to be a good business move.” You answered and Hoseok sat back in his seat a little “to be quite honest the only reason that I’m here is because my family requested it of me and I think I might potentially be extra security for the clan, not because I have any interest in getting married. In fact, I have never considered marriage or even a serious relationship to be in my near future.” you answered

Hoseok nodded in understanding “so you aren’t seeing anyone?” he asked

You were about to nod your head but you hesitated for a moment unaware of how to go about addressing your relationship with Shownu and Jooheon. It wasn’t like you were completely single because you did have somewhat of a relationship, even if you didn’t have titles for each other. You weren’t together but you also weren’t just friends. Friends with benefits?

“something you can’t put a label on?” he asked you

You gave him a small nod in response, and he smiled back at you

“if we do proceed with things is it going to be an issue with your friend?” he asked

“they already know about this arrangement and what it could possibly mean for the future…” you said without think twice about how much you just shared

“THEY?!” Hoseok asked with wide eyes and a shocked look on his face “like two people at once?” he asked you looked up at his with wide eyes at his reaction “do they know about you seeing more than one person?” he continued to ask

You scoffed a little pissed that he would insinuate that you were a cheater “of course they know about one another.” you answered “and yes… I didn’t plan it but it just happened to be this way”

“wow” was all he said as he looked you up and down “okay just a few more questions…and don’t get mad at me for what I’m about to ask” he commented making you curious as to what he could say to piss you off

“how realistic do you want this marriage to look to other people?” he asked you and you relaxed

“realistic enough that people won’t want to fuck with either one of us” you answered

“okay then what would the living arrangements look like?” he asked

You stopped for a moment caught off guard by his question, and quite unsure not having ever considered the question.

“do we have to live with each other?” you asked

“of course, if you want it to look real….” he replied “I live at home with my parents so its probably not ideal for the kind of lifestyle you want”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked him

“well… you live on your own and you have… partners” he answered honestly

“if things proceed then I would be willing to open up a bedroom and office for you” you replied

“and would things be strictly business or would we be open to pursuing one another?” he asked and your eyes went wide at how brazen he was being

“just business!” you quickly replied “as I said earlier I have no intentions of being in a relationship. Anyways… being a baiter wont make things complicated for you after the contract begins right?” you asked him

“no… not at all” he said with a small smile “usually the baits take anywhere from 2 to 6 months and at most I would be gone for only a few months at a time but that is only for the tough and rare cases” he explained

“as long as you can insure that my home and clan won’t be in danger from your baits following you to my home then I am totally fine with whatever you need to do” you answered

“usually during the job I stay in an old apartment so that there aren’t any issues or slip ups.” He answered and then was silent for a few moments “okay well I think that you and I have some things to think about now… and decide if we want to seriously continue to the next step” Hoseok said with a smile

you nodded your head and gave him a polite smile. “you can stay if you like, but since we are done here I will go home.  and I will try to get back to you soon with more information” you politely bowed to him and then stepped out of the private booth.

“Wait!” Hoseok called after you

You hand just made eye contact with Shownu as Hoseok called you and you turned your head to address him

“I’ll be leaving too…. This isn’t really my scene” Hoseok said with a smile “let me walk you out!” Hoseok offered and you gave him a smile

As the two of you made your way across the club you noticed the vibe had shifted in the crowd of people. The music had gotten more seductive, the clients were drunk, and people were no longer just having a good time. Most were partnered off and grinding on strangers, giving them a look like they were ready to fuck on the floor if they could.

When you finally reached the front of the club you took a deep breath, enjoying the smell of clean air. You clutched your arms and looked up at the night sky to see the stars and moon hanging just above you, happy to just be out of the sex fueled building.

As you stepped as much as ten feet away from the front door you hear it open once more, and without even looking behind you could tell that it was Shownu. Hoseok however decided to look back and he scoffed before turning back around.

“is he one of your guys?” he asked calmly under his breath just loud enough for you to hear

You just barely peeked over your shoulder to confirm and then hummed as an answer.

Hoseok chuckled and then gave you a smile “I’m guessing that he’s one of the two that you mentioned?” he asked and you turned to give him a look of curiosity “he looks like he wants to bite my head off, so I figured that it was safe to assume”  he joked

Now you completely turned to look back at Shownu and chuckled at the look of disgust and unhappiness on his face. You were sure to get an earful when you got home about all of his opinions on what type of a person Hoseok is. You let out a soft sigh and then smiled down at the ground. This night could have taken many different turns, but you were relieved that things were at least starting off on a half decent track.

 When you had finally arrived in front of your car, Hoseok gave you a soft smile before pulling his phone out of his pocket and handing it over to you. You took the phone and looked up at him with wide, curious eyes. Did he want for you to save your number in his phone? You unlocked the phone and quickly added the number for a second phone.

Of course things were starting off well, but you weren’t dumb enough to give him your personal number. If he needed to contact you he could email or text your spare, unregistered phone.

You handed the phone back to him and he quickly tucked it back into his pant pocket.

“thanks for meeting me tonight, it allowed me to understand you and the contract a little bit more” he said politely

“yes, thank you as well. It was very important for me to have some clarity before I decided to move forward” you said as politically and general as possible, hyperaware that you had a nosy Shownu lingering over your shoulder.

Hoseok gave you a smile, looked you up and down once more and then turned to Shownu and gave him a cheeky grin, before yelling out a little too confidently

“Hey buddy, take care of her for me tonight”

He winked at Shownu and then moved on to find his own vehicle avoiding the death glares and cursing that was falling out of Shownu’s mouth like fire. You turned to give Shownu a secret glance before you quickly got into your car, avoiding having to have any kind of conversation with Shownu while he was this annoyed.

Shownu stared at you with a frown through the windshield for a moment before he resigned and finally got into his own car, ready to follow you home.

You let out the breath that you didn’t know that you were holding in and turned the volume to your music up slightly, because you had exactly about a 20 minute car ride until the second hard part of the night begun.

[shadedrose01]

hey! I absolutely love your writing & I was just wondering if you could do something where peter & Harley are dating but Harley doesn’t post or comment about their relationship and peter gets really insecure thinking it’s cause he’s not good enough 🥺

Honey Lavender

Thanks for the prompt, anon! It's not exactly what you asked for (sorry!), but I hope it's still okay! I hope you, and everybody else enjoys!

Slight Trigger Warning: there are mentions of homophobia, but nothing shown :)

--

Peter drops his bags onto the guest bed, a cloud of dust puffing into the air and causing him to sneeze.

"Oh dear, we havent dusted this room in a while, I'm sorry love." Ms. Keener ("Call me Macy, dear, we're family!") apologizes, rubbing an arm over the bedsheets to collect any of the remaining dust bunnies still attached to the linen, pieces of her dark chestnut brown hair falling out of her bun and into her face.

Peter flails his arms a bit, trying to reassure her quickly. "No, no, it's okay, its perfect, thank you so much, Ms- Macy." He corrects himself as she sends him a playful glare over her shoulder.

"Miss Macy? That's a new one." Another voice pitches in from the doorframe, cheeky, Harley's thin but muscular body leaning against the wooden panels with a grin highlighting his dimples, his baby blues twinkling.

"Harley James Keener, you be nice now!" Macy chides, leaning closer to smack him upside the head, Harley ducking around her hand with a chuckle. Peter watches the scene with a small smile, with only grows as boyfriend comes to wrap his arms around his waist in a tight squeezed hug.

Peter was (finally) visiting Rose Hill for the first time, after over a year of him and Harley dating, and he couldn't be more excited. He was still battling jetlag, and reeling from all the distinct differences between Rose Hill and Queens ('There's barely any noise out here, no cars horns or people yelling or anything'), but he had always wanted to come, always wanted to meet Harley's family and see just how the southern belle of his had been raised. And just a few minutes in, after having reached the Keener farm and having met Macy and Abbie (a spitfire is the only way he could describe her, he loved her already), he was already learning so much more about the small town life, and about his boyfriend, things he didnt even think about, and he adored it. He loved it with every fiber of his being.

"Ma," Harley whined, plopping his chin onto Peter's shoulder and rocking them back and forth, causing Peter to giggle. "Don't embarass me!" His accent has grown thicker since he came home a few months ago, after staying with Tony for the summer months, and Peter couldnt help how much he loved it, couldnt help the shivers it caused, Harley sending him a knowing look, eyebrow raised. Peter flushes, knowing that's going to be brought up later, during a more personal time.

"Then don't be rude to Peter." She snarks, sending him a sly wink, which causes Harley to rolls his eyes and Peter to laugh. She makes her way towards the door, swaying her hips and humming under her breath, before she pauses to give them both a hard stare, her vibrant green hazel eyes narrowing slightly. "No funny business, you hear me?"

"Aye aye, captain." Harley salutes lazily, grinning as his mom huffs, the smile on her face betraying her true emotions, and walks out the rest of the way, closing the door most of the way on her way out, only leaving it open a crack.

As soon as his mother is out of sight, the old wooden stairs creaking signaling her departure downstairs, Harley grabs on to his hips and spins him around, pressing a kiss to his lips as soon as he can. It was the first time they've been alone together since Peter landed, so he wasnt surprised at the act, just wrapping his arms around Harley's neck, one hand gripping his back and the other running through his hair, pressing them a little closer together and pushing back into the kiss.

"Missed you," Harley mumbles against his lips, before pulling away, a softer, personal smile tilting his lips, his eyes bright like a hot summer's day. A thumb brushes the skin of his hip from under his shirt, small, soothing motions. "Missed you so much."

"I missed you too, baby. So so very much." Peter puts their foreheads together, and shuts his eyes, sighing constantly as they start to rock gently in their embrace, swaying back and forth to an unknown song, to the beat of their hearts and the rhythm of their souls, combined, intertwined.

They spin a few circles together in silence, just breathing each others air and feeling each others heat, being in the moment, before Harley puffs out a breath, and murmurs shakily. "Pete, there's something I gotta tell you."

He opens his eyes, lifting his head to look into Harley's now stormy ones, swirling and churning with a darkness, a sadness that has Peter's stomach twisting, his heart dropping. What happened? Did he do something? What did he do?

Harley goes to tell him, goes to speak when another feminine voice cuts them off from down the hall.

"Harls, your friends are here!" Abbey yells from what sounds like down the stairs, and Harley flinches back, the embrace and the moment broken.

He calls back a quick "Okay, coming!" Before giving Peter a plastic, shaky smile, eyes wide and panicked. "Come on, let's go say hi, I guess."

"Harley-" He doesnt get the words out as Harley grabs his hand and practically starts dragging him down the stairs, and Peter stifles an annoyed (and worried) sigh, knowing that his boyfriend is clearly not going to answer whatever the heck that was upstairs anymore, now that his friends were here.

Oh well. Time to try and make another good first impression.

They slide their shoes on before going out the white, metal swing door, and onto the painted wooden wrap around porch that encompasses the entire front of the Keener residence. Right in front of the doorway, on the dirt driveway, sits two different ATV's, their engines still humming as they sit in park, their riders still sitting on top, one with one person and the other with a passenger. The person right in the front, with a bright orange ATV, lifts up the visor of their helmet, revealing a boy not much younger than Harley, with shaggy brown hair, oval brown eyes and chubby freckled cheeks, pushed up by a smirk.

"Yo Harley, you comin' out?" The boy yells over the hum of the engine, his voice full of teasing, of mirth. He makes eye contact with Peter, whose interovertive instincts cause him to shrink a little under the gaze, and raises an eyebrow, looking shocked, surprised. "Whose that?"

Harley ignores the second question, looking away as he responds to the first with a shrug, "I can't tonight, EJ, sorry."

"Oh come on, Harls!" The passenger on the other ATV chimes in, a younger girl with curly ginger hair and green eyes, her arms wrapped around the driver. "You never come out anymore."

"And you never answered his question, dude." The driver chimes in, finally, the older man's deeper voice rumbling lower than the engine of the machine, his gray eyes harsh and cold, his lips tilted in a disapproving frown. He nods his head towards Peter, who is now standing dumbly at Harleys side, as he asks, "Who is he? Your boyfriend?"

There's something about the way the man spits out the word that causes a flair of fear, of bubbling anger to rise in his chest, and Peter opens his mouth to spit back, to say loud and proud that why yes, yes he is, when-

"What?" Harley sputters, laughing anxiously, the sound sounding all fake and wrong. "No, of course not! I'm not gay!"

And Peter's heart stops.

His head shoots over to stare at Harley with wide eyes and a gaping mouth, but Harley isnt looking his way, wont look his way, his eyes averted and looking anywhere else but him, and Peter's heart his crumbling, his lung tightening and his throat squeezing as tears fill his eyes.

...what?

"He's just a- a family friend, and I gotta say behind to watch 'em, you know how it is." Harley gazes straight forward as he says this, his voice unwavering, but monotone, obviously forced to Peter but apparently not to his friends as they all laugh and nod.

"Okay, good! You had us worried there for a sec." The boy, EJ, snickers, before putting his visor back down, revving his engine for seemingly no reason. "We'll see ya later?"

"Yeah! Cya!" Harley yells back as the engines roar back to life, the trio pulling out of the driveway and shooting off down the road again, the bright orange ATV doing a wheely on the way down.

Theres a few moments of nothing, a few shattered heartbeats where the two listens to the roars fade into the distance, before Peter cant stands it anymore, turning on foot and racing back into the house, hearing the metal swing door clanging against the frame of the house. Hearing Harley call out to him, and as his vision starts to blur, he moves faster, pushing past Abbie with a mumbled apology before rushing up the stairs, taking two at a time, and making it to the guest bedroom slamming door behind him, causing the wood to splinter slightly.

As soon as the door is shut and locked, tears pool out of his eyes as he breaks down, pressing a hand to his mouth to stifle his sobs as he sits on the dusty, creaking bed, curling into himself as he hears heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, and another lighter pair coming after that, hears Abbie mutter something jokingly and Harley hiss out a response before the knocking and pleading start.

"Pete? Please open up, I'm sorry, let me explain-"

"Explain what?" He tries to snap, tries to yell and bite and sneer, but it comes out as a sob, weak and shaky. "How you apparently aren't gay? How I'm a 'family friend'?" Peter whimpers into his hands, rubbing at his eyes to try and get rid of the frustrating tears pouring out of them. It's stupid, he was so, so stupid.

"No, Pete-" Theres a light thunk, like Harley leaned his forehead against the door with a little too much force. Theres a sigh, low and sad, before Harleys voice comes back, still pleading, but softer, full of sorrow, "It's- It's not like that-"

"Isnt it!? You don't want to tell them a-about me, I-I get it." He does, he really truly does. He's just boring old, useless, nobody Peter Parker, while Harley is... well, Harley. So he gets it. He just doesn't understand why it hurts so damn much.

"Peter-" Now, he sounds choked, like Peter's pain is starting to get to him too, like the heartbreak is contagious. "Please, baby, let me in. Let me explain, please. I promise you, it's not what you think."

Theres a pause, and Peter hates himself, hates himself for considering it, hates himself for getting up, hates himself himself for agreeing with it, unlocking the door and stepping back just in time for Harley to open it swiftly, looking frazzled, hair askew and eyes wide, teary, his cheeks wet.

Their eyes reconnect, Peter's spilling brown to Harley's ocean blues, and whatever look is on Peter's face causes Harleys to crumble, and rush out, "I want to tell them! A-about us, I do, god, I want to tell them so bad, Pete, but-" He sighs long and low, eyes falling downcast, head bowed in shame. "They're homophobic, Pete. Everyone in this town is." Peter's heart thumps painfully in his chest, and so many different questions swirl in his head, but he swallows them down, letting Harley continue, voice tight, fearful, shaky. "I got lucky with my mom, my sister, I thought they were gonna hate me too when I first came out, I was-" his breath hicks. "I was so ready for them to kick me out and not look twice, but they didnt, and I'm lucky, Peter, I'm lucky. If the town found out, they'd- they'd tell ma to bring to therapy, to Church, to fix me like I'm some broken toy." He spits it out, bitter, angry, and the fire and ache in Peter's chest is slowly receding, slowly fading the more Harley talks and the more he understands. Harley sighs again, and his shoulders slump, eyes growing misty. "I wish I could tell them about us, Pete, I really really do. I wish I could scream it from the rooftops how much I adore you, but I just-"

"Can't." Peter finishes, wiping the drying tears off of his cheeks.

"Yeah." He whispers, squeezing his eyes shut, a few trickles falling. "I'm sorry, baby. Im so sorry. I didn't want to say any of that. I didnt mean any of it. I'm sorry."

Peter glances up at him, sees the way Harley looks, with his hunched frame, head low, eyes shut, tears streaming down his red face, lips trembling, hands shaking, and makes a wounded noise at the back of his throat, taking a few steps forward and pulling the boy into a tight hug.

How was he supposed to stay mad at him when he looked like that? When everything is out of his control, when he's only doing what he has to for his safety, for his life.

Harley stiffens in his embrace, before slumping forward into him, grasping at the back of his hoodie and burying his wet face into the crook of Peter's neck, shivering with a sob. "Its okay," Peter whispers, kissing the side of his head and rocking them gently back and forth, just like they had done earlier, before this misunderstanding, before this mess. "It's okay. I'm sorry for misunderstanding."

Harley shakes his head, sniffling. "No, no, you didnt- didnt know. I'm sorry I said those things."

Now its Peter's turn to shake his head, pressing another kiss to his head, this time behind his ear. "Its *okay*," Peter reiterates, reassures, and Harley sighs, his warm breath puffing against Peter's chest.

"No it isn't." Harley responds remorseful, his grip tightening. "I shouldnt have to do this. I shouldn't have to pretend, to lie. But I have to. I'm going to continue to have to."

"I know," Peter murmurs, rubbing a firm hand up and down his trembling boyfriend's back. "I know. It's okay, I understand now. Understand that you don't mean it." He pauses, shutting his eyes and hooking his chin on Harleys shoulder. "You're right though. You shouldn't have to do this. And I'm so so sorry that you have to live like this, especially around your friends, but-" He pulls away, opens his eyes, and places a hand on each of Harley's freckled tear stained cheeks, looking dead in his azure, shining, red rimmed but still so beautiful, so so beautiful eyes, and tells him firmly, promising, "One day, I'm going to get you out of here, away from this town and it's people, and you'll never have to deal with this again. Okay?"

Harley's face crinkles again, but this time its with joy, with love, a smile growing on his face as more tears trickle down his cheeks. "Okay." He murmurs, soft, shaky, but honest, but true.

Things may not be perfect, but one day, Peter thinks as he pulls his boyfriend, the love of his life, his soulmate in for another big hug, one day, they will be. As long as he gets to stay by Harley's side, everything will be okay. He's sure of it.

[xxpadfootxx]

Night Terrors & New Beginnings - Part 16 (Backfired)

Izuku’s mouth fell open when Dakota told him her plan.

“You’d really do that for us? You’d let her ride on your back?” Izuku asked in shock.

“Well of course,” Dakota said to him through the bond, her tail swaying just above the forest floor. “I will be honest, I am not exactly happy about it but I can feel how much she means to you. I know it is important for you to avoid losing your friendship with her so I will do this for you. You just have to put the plan into action.”

Tears of gratitude threatened to spill over onto Izuku’s cheeks as Dakota spoke, the weight of what she was doing for him, even with her terrible past with people, hitting him like a ton of bricks. His heart swelled as the dragon in front of him used her claw to draw out their plan into the dirt, her eyes narrowed slightly in focus. Without warning, Izuku leaned forward and wrapped his arms around the Night Fury, his head resting against her chest. Dakota froze but did not move away from his touch.

“Thank you, Dakota,” Izuku whispered.

Dakota remained a little tense but began to purr and curled a wing tentatively over his upper back in her own form of a loose hug. Izuku released her and moved back so that he could look at her drawing in the sand, wiping his eyes with his sleeve as he went.

“Alright, let’s go through the plan again,” Izuku said, using his finger to trace the marks in the sand. “First, you are going to fly over to where her apartment complex is located and find the tallest tree in the area. I am going to meet you there after your search. Then, you will perch up in the tree where she can’t see you, just so that we don’t scare her when she opens the door. That is when I will go up to her door just by myself and try to convince her through the door that I am not an enemy and offer to show her what you are really like. Finally, hoping that we get this far, I will call you over to land on the ground directly in front of the complex, away from any windows. That is when I will bring her downstairs for our little flight. Your only job is to look as calm and unthreatening as possible, no matter what she does. If she does anything you don’t like, just tell me through the bond and I will react to it for you to avoid scaring her. Understand?”

Dakota was silent for a moment as she looked over the plan. She tilted her head to one side, and then looked up at Izuku, giving him a slight nod.

“Ok good, let’s go.”

It was already getting dark so the pair did not waste time preparing to leave. Dakota studied the route to Ochako’s apartment that Izuku showed her, her wings twitching slightly as she memorized the path.

“Alright Dakota, are you ready to go?” Izuku said, walking up beside her and placing a hand on her shoulder. Dakota pressed her muzzle into his chest and purred in confirmation.

“Good! Please be careful, I’ll see you there!” Izuku said, taking a few steps back to avoid the wind blast of her wings as she shot into the air. Her wings beating heavily, she flew up into the darkening sky, her eyes wide and sharp. Izuku watched her until he could no longer see her before he turned and made his way toward the bike he had left in his front lawn.

_____________________________________________

The cool night air felt amazing on Dakota’s wings as she flew, the clouds ticking her scales and the deep, fresh smell of the wind filling her mind with fond memories of her home. She frowned slightly as she considered the memories that flooded her mind. The fresh smell of the wind reminded her of the mountains where she used to roam and the pine trees where she used to climb. She inhaled deeply, the smell calming her as she thought about her old friends and family. She closed her eyes for a bit, banishing any negative thoughts from her mind and allowing herself to relax as she soared through the air. Her mind once again flashed to an image of Izuku, his kind smile, and his warm gaze. His soft hands and his wild green hair, his contagious laugh and his golden heart. Dakota felt her own heart warm considerably as she thought of the sweet boy. He was so selfless, he cared, and she felt safe when she was around him. She began to purr as she descended slowly below the cloud line. She knew she was getting close to her destination and with the warm memories of her old family and Izuku clouding her mind, Dakota felt completely relaxed and confident.

Which was her mistake.

Just like in her dream, Dakota was harshly reminded of reality with the sting of a dart in her side. Dakota let out a roar mixed with shock, fear, and anger, sent out one flash of sharp fear through the bond, and then felt her wings collapse at her sides just as she lost consciousness. ________________________________

Izuku was riding his bike quickly down the quiet street, his legs pumping the pedals as hard as he could. He knew there was no real rush but he hated leaving Dakota alone for too long when she wasn’t either at his house or at the dragon sanctuary behind Fumihiro’s cottage. Using the back of his hand he wiped the sweat off his forehead as he pedaled, ignoring the burn in his legs. His hair was pushed wildly back from his face as he rode against the wind, his eyes constantly scanning the area around him. He didn’t know why he was being so paranoid. Sure, it was late at night but he knew he could defend himself, so why did he feel so weird? Izuku shook his head, his anxiety building until he was practically flying down the street, his breathing coming out in short pants. Finally, Izuku had the sense to pull over onto the side of the road and calm his breathing. He glanced at his hands and released the bike handles once he realized that he had been holding onto them with so much force his knuckles had turned white. Izuku took a deep breath and slowly counted to twenty in his head, calming himself. Dakota was fine, she could take care of herself. She is a dragon, she can fight practically anyone, no matter their quirk. Izuku finally managed to relax a bit, a frown scrunching up his boyish features in consideration. Why had he felt so panicked? He never felt that feverishly anxious. He glanced around him and ran a hand through his hair. What was going on with him? That was when very suddenly, a bolt of fear shot up his spine like a lightning rod and speared through his heart making him gasp. He clutched his shirt over his heart and his eyes widened into huge saucers.

“Dakota…” Izuku gasped. Without hesitation, Izuku leaped back onto his bike and shot off to the left, completely abandoning his original plan and following the mark Dakota had left on his heart.

_____________________________________

Izuku sprinted up the steps leading to Ochako’s apartment, his arms pumping wildly as he moved. He had found Dakota pretty easily following the bond but had immediately realized that he could not handle the situation on his own when he had stumbled upon her location. Dakota was in a huge metal cage, wearing a muzzle over her face and her body was covered in chains in restraints. Her eyes had been closed and although she had been breathing normally, Izuku knew she was barely conscious. She had been surrounded by men, all of which were holding various weapons as they moved in packs, hoisting cages and stacking them as if they were waiting to be picked up. Dakota had not been the only dragon who was there either. There were a few other dragons in cages but there were also several terrifying-looking dragons who had roamed about with the men. Izuku knew the dragons to be Death Grippers thanks to his previous research on dragons, but it did not help to ease his anxiety much due to the immense amount of venom he knew they held in their spine-tipped tails. Haruka & Emiko were out of town and so he had called Fumihiro and left a message but the old man had not responded. It was because of this that Izuku was sprinting up to Ochako’s door, praying that this last hope of his would be enough to at least keep the men from leaving long enough for actual help to show up.

He pounded on Ochako’s door, tears threatening to blind him as they made his vision waiver. He aggressively wiped them away with his sleeve and pounded on the door again, his fist stinging a little from the force of his knocking.

“Uraraka! It’s me, Deku! I know we had a rough start a little while ago but I really need your help!”

No response.

“I-I know you have no reason to trust me right now but I really care about you and so I want to explain. The dragon that you saw earlier is good, she never meant to hurt me and had been a friend of mine for a while now. I know you probably won’t believe me but right now, that dragon is in serious trouble!”

Still no response. Izuku took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.

“Ochako,” Izuku said shakily. “Please. I know you probably think I am being controlled or something but in reality, this dragon is the most compassionate creature I have ever met. I really need your help, she is in serious danger and you are the only one I can go to right now for help. Please, you… you are my only hope.”

He waited.

And waited.

He was just about to leave her alone when suddenly the door swung open. He turned with a smile and opened his mouth to talk when he felt something solid touch him lightly on the chest. His breath hitched and his eyes widened when he looked down to see the point of a kitchen knife pressed ever so slightly against him.

“Ura-”

“Don’t talk,” Ochako said firmly. She stood tall and confident. He knew she must be scared but he couldn’t tell as his best friend faced him down, her face set with a determined look.

“I don’t trust you but I also don’t want to hurt you, ever. So please, answer me this question. Your answer to the question will help me determine if you are telling the truth or not. Understand?”

Izuku merely nodded and held his hands up, showing her he held no weapon and meant no harm.

“Good,” She said. Her voice cracked slightly but she cleared her throat and plowed on. “Deku, why did you rescue me on the day of the entrance exam in U.A?”

“Why did I rescue you?”

“Just answer the question,” Uraraka said aggressively.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Izuku said quickly, his eyes widening a fraction more. “I rescued you because… well because not only were you the only person to show me any kindness on that day but also because you could not help yourself. You were trapped and I didn’t even have the chance to think before my body moved. I wanted to save you, needed to save you because I want to be the kind of hero that can help people no matter who they are. I want to give people hope and I want those who don’t feel loved to be loved. I saved you because not only were you kind to me, but because I could not bear to see anyone injured,” Izuku paused for a second.

“I also saved you because I saw a spark.”

“A spark?” Ochako asked in a whisper.

“Yes, it was the same spark that fuels my actions today. A spark that pushes me forward to be the best hero I can possibly be. I saw that spark in you, you refused to give up, you were determined, despite your injuries, to finish the test and help others so that you too could have a shot at being an amazing hero. I saved you because although I have my own ideas when it comes to helping others, that spark struck something in me that gave me the strength to move despite the odds of actually beating the robot.”

Silence met his answer for a moment, the pair staring at each other intently.

And then Izuku was tackled in a rib-cracking hug, the kitchen knife hitting the porch floor with a loud thud.

“Deku! Oh, Deku I am so sorry, I didn’t want to threaten you but I had no idea what was going on! I didn’t know if you were being controlled, or if you were going to hurt me or-”

“I would never hurt you,” Izuku said firmly as he returned her hug with equal enthusiasm. “I am so sorry that I scared you, I just didn’t have the chance to explain anything. It broke my heart seeing you run from me, Uraraka, I am so sorry.”

Ochako squeezed him somehow harder and gave him a watery smile.

“It’s okay, Deku. I’m sorry I ran, I just didn’t-”

“No, no, don’t apologize, you did what was best for your survival at that moment, I’m glad you had the sense to run. It was my fault for not being prepared for the possibility of one of my friends finding out about Dakota.”

Suddenly, Izuku remembered the whole reason for why he was there.

“Shit! Dakota!”

“What? Deku, what’s going on?”

“I totally forgot why I came over here,” Izuku said quickly, his face paling as he remembered his poor dragon lying unconsciously in a cage. “I really need your help, the usual people that I’d call for this are either busy or gone for now. Dakota is in serious danger. She was on her way over here to help us make up when she got shot down by a group of people. I have no idea how they found her when she was flying through the air, or why she was unable to get away, but I really need someone and you are the only other person who won’t kill her on sight.”

“Deku…”

“Please,” Izuku choked out in a whispery voice, forcing himself to shove down the tears that automatically sprang to his eyes.

Ochako took a deep, shaky breath and closed her eyes. Her heart pounded as she considered everything. I mean, this was a dragon they were talking about! A blood-thirsty creature that was known for ripping families apart and plucking humans right off the street just for a quick meal. Their fire had burned down whole cities and their jaws had snapped lives short, leaving vast destruction in their wake. It was legal to kill them for a reason, right? But then again…

“Fuck it,” Ochako whispered under her breath so softly that Izuku questioned whether or not she had even said it. Opening her eyes slowly, Izuku saw a gaze filled with a flare of determination stare right back at him.

“I don’t fully understand this. In fact, I don’t understand any of this, but now is not the time to answer my questions. If this thing is important to you, then I’ll help you because what’s important to you is also important to me, no matter what.”

“U-Uraraka..!” Izuku said with tears starting to spill down his cheeks.

“Just promise to explain everything when it’s all over alright?”

Izuku nodded almost feverishly, his hair flopping with the movement.

“Alright then, let’s go get that dragon.”

________________________________________

Dakota let out a strained groan, every one of her muscles tense with soreness. She opened her eyes and swallowed thickly to find her throat slick with excess saliva and her sight slightly impaired, only blurry moving shapes flashing in front of her. Suddenly, a loud clang directly in front of her face caused her to yelp in surprise and fear.

“Hehe, did I scare ya, beauty?” A cold male voice sneered at her.

Dakota wanted to growl at the voice, but the saliva in her throat made more of a gurgling sound. The voice cackled in response and hit her cage with his spear three times more, the loud clanging piercing her ears and causing her to whimper pitifully.

“That’s right, there is nothing you can do and nobody to save you, you're here to fetch me and my boys a pretty penny,” The voice said with one last slam against her cage before she heard the sound of footsteps moving away from her. She whined softly to herself, she was alone, alone like she had always been. 

She had been free for only a short while before it was snatched away from her once more like a candle being snuffed out at night. She closed her eyes as the realization that she was going to be nothing more than some dollar amount once more sank into her heart, her hope dwindling as the thoughts flooded her brain.

That is until someone seemed to come by and light the candle with a lighter so that it could begin to burn bright again. Her heart lifted and her eyes flew open as she felt the softest caress down the bond, warm and reassuring and safe.

“Dakota?”

Dakota let out a little cry of joy as the soft voice skittered down the bond as if he were whispering in her ear right beside her.

“Are you there? Dakota? Are you awake?”

Dakota tried to respond but her brain was still foggy and her senses were still messed up so all she could manage was a small affectionate growl that reverberated down the bond.

“Shit…” Izuku mumbled down the bond. Dakota immediately felt a sharp pang of concern stab at her heart and sent a warm caress down the bond in an attempt to soothe her rider. “Alright, Dakota stay put and don’t get hurt, we are coming to get you.”

“I-I can’t… really g-go anywhere… n-now can I?” Dakota managed to force down the bond, the tiniest smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“Okay, well it’s nice to see that even in tough times your sarcasm remains intact,” Izuku said with a small chuckle down the bond. Dakota’s smile widened slightly at his comment.

“S-Stay safe… okay?” Dakota coughed out through the bond.

“I promise I will,” Izuku responded warmly.

_____________________________________

Ochako watched with a mix of fear and curiosity as Izuku closed his eyes and sighed. He had been sitting like that for a while, not even watching the action below, merely sitting with his eyes closed and breathing deeply. Her alarm only grew when he let out a soft chuckle.

“Deku?”

Suddenly, his eyes snapped open and he inhaled deeply as if he had been holding his breath underwater for a while. He blinked rapidly and glanced around before making eye contact with Ochako.

“Sorry Uraraka, I’m back now.”

“What the hell does that mean!?” Ochako asked in slight horror.

“I can communicate with Dakota through a bond that we have. I will explain the details later, but for now, I just want you to know that I am okay but Dakota is not. She seems to be awake, but barely. They must have injected her with something. She was able to communicate but not very well and she sounded strained.”

Ochako tilted her head as she considered this. She made a mental note to ask Izuku about this ‘bond’ later but pushed it to the side.

“Well, what are we going to do then? If your dragon is out for the count, how do we plan on not only getting her out of here but also escaping with our heads?”

Izuku rested his chin on his fist, his brows scrunched in thought as he considered her question. His eyes scanned the area, his lips moving as he wordlessly talked himself through the beginnings of a plan. Ochako smiled when after a little while, his eyes lit up, the plan clicking into his head like clockwork.

“I’ve got it!” He whispered excitedly.

“Alright, lay it on me,” Ochako responded.

“It’s going to be dangerous but I think it will work, let me just ask Dakota something and then I’ll fill you in,” Izuku said, turning back to face the general direction in which Dakota was staying, and closed his eyes again. Ochako waited patiently for him to come back to her. When he turned back to her, his eyes looked hopeful.

“Okay, so I asked Dakota if the other dragons around her are doped up as well. She told me that they were here before her so they had more time for the effects of whatever she was shot with to wear off. She was able to communicate with a Monstrous Nightmare next to her who was perfectly awake. I asked her to talk to them and let them know that we are not the enemy so that we can use them for our escape.”

“You think that will actually work?” Ochako asked, her brow furrowed.

“Yeah, I think so. There is a chance that the dragons won’t believe Dakota about us trying to help them and those Death Gripper dragons could pose a problem but I think we can do it. Are you with me?”

Ochako didn’t even hesitate as she looked into her best friend’s eyes.

“Always.”

[tony-starkrogers]

I want to be yours

For the anon who asked for Steve rescuing Tony from an unwanted admirer. I added a side of fake dating and non-powered college au. This comes in at around 3k. I hope you enjoy!

Read it on ao3 here.

—

Steven Grant Rogers get your perfect ass over here right the fuck now

Steve winced as he read the text - Tony Stark had many nicknames for him, but he always knew that whenever he used Steve’s full name, there was bound to be trouble.

On my way now, Steve texted back, juggling his portfolio and art supplies so that he could respond. Class just let out. Why are you early?

Pepper and Nat, Tony replied instantly, which explained the desperation.

Steve’s best friend Natasha and Tony’s best friend Pepper had just started officially dating after being on and off for months, and they were deep in that nauseatingly happy honeymoon stage.

They were also constantly trying to get Steve and Tony dates, and their attempts were always met with little success. In Steve’s case, this might have something to do with the fact that Steve had been in love with Tony for years.

In Tony’s case… well, Steve knew that it couldn’t be the same for him. The two of them had gotten off to a rough start, but they’d been friends for years. More than that, they were best friends. They were the one person the other could always rely on, they knew each other on a soul-deep level… and in all that time, Tony had never given any hint that he wanted something more.

So Tony couldn’t feel anything more than friendship for him. If he did, surely Steve, his best friend in the world, would know it?

Of course, none of this meant that Steve was going anywhere. Steve would always be there when Tony needed him and that wasn’t about to change any time soon.

Be there soon, Steve texted as he got in a cab. Don’t let them get you anything with vodka in it.

Too late, Tony responded, and Steve repressed a sigh. He could feel a headache coming on already.

When he finally got there, he expected to find Tony at the center of attention, fending off his many admirers with the tired sort of competence that experience brings. Instead, he was surprised to see Tony sitting alone at a barstool, looking somewhere between confused and terrified. When his gaze landed on Steve, Tony’s face lit up and he jumped up to meet him.

“Thank goodness you’re here,” Tony said, still shooting terrified looks around the club. “It’s Pepper and Nat, they brought us to a gay club, can you believe it?”

Steve glanced around, and sure enough, he spotted the two women dancing together in the middle of the crowd by the stage.

“Do you want to leave?” Steve asked, because Tony looked so out of his depth and almost scared, as though he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“What?” Tony said, frowning at him. “Are you kidding me? They clearly threw down a gauntlet, I’m not backing down. Now I just need you to be my boyfriend for the night and we’ll rock this thing, okay?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Steve asked. “You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend?”

“Yeah, so these guys won’t keep hitting on me all night, of course,” Tony said, rolling his eyes. “I mean, if you don’t want to, we can always go home and watch a movie like we do every night…”

“No!” Steve blurted at once.

He knew full well that this was a terrible idea, because Steve Rogers was in love with Tony Stark. He thought he had been doing a pretty good job of keeping his feelings to himself, but if they did this, and if they did this right, Tony was sure to find him out, and Steve couldn’t bear the thought of losing him when he did.

But Steve had wanted this for so long, it was hard to resist temptation when the opportunity arose. Here was a chance to find out what it would be like to be Tony’s boyfriend… Steve couldn’t refuse it if he tried.

“I’ll do it,” Steve says.

Tony’s answering smile lit up his whole face, and he grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled him close. “You won’t regret it,” Tony said.

Steve could only hope that he was right.

***

It was both better and worse than Tony had imagined it could be, being Steve’s boyfriend.

It was better because it was everything he had ever wanted, and now it was actually happening. Tony played the part of the solicitous boyfriend, fixing Steve’s hair and straightening his collar and keeping an arm around his waist to hold him close. It was easy, finally letting himself do all the things he had wanted to do for years.

At the same time, it was also worse than Tony had imagined, because none of this was real. Steve was a terrible actor, stammering and blushing and generally making a complete fool of himself whenever Tony so much as looked at him.

Steve didn’t want to be doing this, that much was clear. If Steve looked this terrified when they were just pretending… there was no way Steve would ever want to be Tony’s boyfriend for real. All Tony could do was swallow down his disappointment and take this time as the gift it was.

“This ok?” he asked under the guise of pressing kisses to Steve’s jaw. His lips brushed Steve’s skin, and Steve startled, all but jumping away from Tony as he gave him a wide-eyed stare.”I can back off if you’re uncomfortable,” Tony offered softly.

“No!” Steve said at once. “No, this is fine. Great, even. Very… very convincing.”

“Okay…” Tony said with a frown, because Steve still kept shooting him more of those nervous, deer in the headlights looks when he thought Tony wasn’t looking. “And that’s a problem because..:” Tony prompted, because something was bothering Steve.

“It’s not a problem, really,” Steve insisted. “It’s just…” he gave Tony another look, gnawing at his lower lip with worry as he considered, and Tony tried to ignore the way his entire body responded to the sight.

“Are you sure you’re not uncomfortable?” Steve asked finally, his eyes on Tony’s face. “I mean, I know I’m not the sort you usually go for…”

“Damn right you’re not,” Tony said fiercely. “You’re better than any of them, Steve, you’re so much better. You don’t see yourself clearly at all, you know?”

Steve flushed and looked away at the praise, and Tony elbowed him in the ribs with a grin. “Besides, you’re gorgeous, Steve,” he said. “Anyone would be lucky to be with you. Including me.”

He forced himself to meet Steve’s gaze, and Steve’s eyes were warm and soft. Tony almost thought he saw a hint of something more in Steve’s gaze… but he was kidding himself, he had to be.

Tony swallowed and looked away, bracing himself for the rejection he knew had to be coming. Instead, he startled when Steve’s hand curled around his, their fingers twining together like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Tony couldn’t help staring. His mouth suddenly felt sandpaper dry and his skin was clammy with nerves, because Steve Rogers was holding his hand. Steve heard what he said, and he had to understand the implication behind the words… and yet, he wasn’t ignoring it and he wasn’t outright rejecting it. That had to mean something… right?

As Tony stared, Steve smiled at him. “Let’s dance,” he said.

“...Sorry, what?” Tony asked, because he thought Steve just said…

“Dancing,” Steve said, tugging him towards the dance floor. “A thing commonly done in clubs. I mean, we are here, so we might as well…”

“Sure!” Tony said numbly, his brain still tripping over the fact that Steve was holding his hand, and Steve was smiling at him like he wanted to be here with Tony and no one else. Tony never wanted this to end, because this was all he had ever wanted.

“Dancing,” Tony said, all but mesmerized by Steve’s ridiculously blue eyes. “I can do that.”

He let the music wash over him, and resigned himself to his fate, because Tony Stark was in love with Steve Rogers, and that wasn’t about to change any time soon.

***

Steve was on cloud nine. He was finally dancing with Tony, something he’d always dreamed of but never had the guts to actually do.

The music was thundering loud in his ears, the bass pounding through his body as the strobe lights flickered overhead. He kept getting lost in the closeness of it: the endless press of bodies against his own, the taste of sweat and desire on his tongue.

And then there was Tony. The crush of people was so close that they were dancing practically chest to chest, so close that Steve could feel the heat of Tony’s body against his own.

Tony clearly knew what he was doing: his hips were swaying in time with the music, his eyes dark as he looked up at Steve through his lashes.

Steve’s feet stuttered, he couldn’t help it, because Tony was right there. Steve’s mouth went dry as his eyes traced the lines of Tony’s body. His slender legs were clad in dark jeans that cinched tight on his slim hips, his chest pressed up against Steve’s own, his thin band tee shirt sticky with sweat. The line of his clavicle caught Steve’s eye, and he couldn’t help thinking how nice it would be to drag his lips along it, to lick at the sweat pooling above Tony’s upper lip, to run his fingers through Tony’s curling hair like he’d wanted to for years. It would be so easy… but no. They’d come here as friends, Steve couldn’t take advantage of that.

His face flushing, Steve jerked his gaze back to find Tony’s eyes locked to his, and they were warm and soft and far too knowing.

“You okay?” Tony asked.

Steve cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he said, his breath catching as someone stumbled into him. “Just… haven’t done this much.”

Tony smiled. “Relax, you’re doing fine,” he said. “See, like this.”

And then his hands were on Steve’s hips, bringing them even closer as he guided Steve’s hips in time with his.

“See?” Tony said, “it’s simple. Easy.”

Simple, Steve thought as he stared into Tony’s warm brown eyes. Simple, like the feelings he had for Tony that he couldn’t seem to ignore any longer, except there was nothing simple about that. Easy, like it would be to kiss Tony right this second, except there was nothing easy about the aftermath. Easy, like being Tony’s friend was easy, and Steve knew that he couldn’t screw that up, no matter what.

“Yeah,” he said numbly instead. “Easy.”

Tony smiled and opened his mouth, but then someone slid in beside them.

“Tony,” the newcomer said. “Fancy seeing you here. Mind if I cut in?”

Tony froze against him, his eyes flicking briefly to Steve’s, wide and horrified.

“Tiberius,” Tony said.

***

“Aw, come on jelly bean,” Ty said. “Is that any way to treat an old friend?”

He clapped Tony on the shoulder and Tony repressed a shudder. Ty was just as dark and slimy as ever, even more so now that Tony really knew him for what he was.

“I wouldn’t call you that,” Tony hedged, and Ty just smiled.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he said. He turned to Steve, his lips curled in a smirk. “I don’t know what exactly you are to Tony here, but I used to be his not-boyfriend, his clandestine lover, his dirty secret.” He held out a hand, and Steve looked at it with disgust. Ty’s lips twitched and he put his hand down. “Tiberius Stone, at your service,” he said.

“Steve Rogers,” Steve replied, his face still stormy, his eyes more dangerous than Tony had ever seen them. “I won’t be needing any of your… services.”

Ty burst out laughing, his hand heavy as he slapped Tony’s shoulder. “Where’d you find this guy?” he asked, and Tony slid out from his grip as he doubled over with laughter.

Tony glanced over at Steve, and his stomach dropped as he read the mingled horror and pity and disgust on Steve’s face. He could deal with a lot in life, but if he ever lost Steve’s good opinion… Tony didn’t think he could stand it.

Tony looked back at Steve, certain he could see the pleading desperation on his face. Steve gave him a minute nod in response, sliding his arm around Tony’s waist and pulling him close.

“I happen to be his boyfriend,” Steve said, and Ty looked between them in shock. “And I don’t take kindly to people trying to intimidate him. If you’re smart, you’ll leave us alone.”

Faced by the imposing image of Steve’s flexing muscles, Ty backed away as much as he could, his hands up. “Okay, geez man,” he said, looking at Tony with his eyebrows raised. “If you want me to go, I’ll go. You know where to find me when he gets tired of you.”

With a mock salute, he slipped back into the crowd and disappeared from view. Tony breathed a sigh of relief and sagged against Steve, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder.

“Fuck,” Tony said, taking a deep breath. “Okay, he’s gone.” He looked up at Steve, startling as Steve didn’t pull away but instead pulled him in, his arms going around his waist to hold him close.

“I am so sorry you had to see that,” Tony whispered, low and mortified, but Steve just slid a comforting hand up his back and turned his face into Tony’s hair.

“Shhh,” Steve told him softly. As they swayed together, the music changed. It was slow and sweet, and Tony couldn’t help melting against Steve, letting the tension out of his body.

“Let’s just dance,” Steve said. “It’s just you and me, Tony. We’re okay.”

***

As they continued to sway back and forth, Steve marveled at how it felt to hold Tony in his arms. It seemed that every line of Tony’s body was pressed up against every line of his, and he knew it was cliche, but they fit together like puzzle pieces. Tony fit perfectly in the circle of Steve’s arms, his head resting just beneath his chin.

He was warm and trusting and oh so close… and yet he had never seemed so far away. How could Steve ever deserve to really be with him… how could he be enough for the man who deserved every good thing the world had to offer? But if by some miracle Tony ever did pick him… Steve knew that he would try.

The song that was playing seemed to be made for how Steve was feeling at this moment: it was full of longing and desire, as the words “I want to be yours” repeated again and again. With his arms around Tony, holding him close and yet still feeling it was nowhere close enough, Steve thought he knew the feeling.

The music swelled and Tony looked up at him, his eyes luminous and shining as the lights swept above them. Steve felt “I want to be yours” pounding through his veins, and thought he saw the same desire reflected in Tony’s eyes.

It would be so easy - they could lean in and lose themselves in each other, hands and lips and tongue. It would be so easy… but Steve didn’t want easy. He wanted more.

So he pulled away, as hard at it was. “You want to get out of here?” he asked.

“God yes,” Tony replied.

“I’m sorry about Ty,” Tony said once they were outside, heading back in the direction of their dorms. “He was from a part of my life that I’m not proud of. I did a lot of stupid things back then.”

“Tony,” Steve told him softly, “I don’t need an explanation.”

He watched as Tony sighed, giving Steve an almost wistful look. “I know, Steve,” he said. “I know that. But the thing is… I want to tell you. You’re the person I want to talk to about… anything. Everything.” He groaned in frustration. “I’m sorry, I’m not explaining this well at all.”

Steve smiled. He felt like his entire body was on fire with anticipation. He thought he knew what Tony was trying to say and if he was right…

“I think you’re saying that you want someone to dance with, but also someone to talk with,” Steve said.

Tony smiled back at him, soft and hopeful. “Not just someone,” he said. “You, actually. I mean, if you want?”

“That’s what tonight was about!” Steve gasped. “You planned this, didn’t you?”

“The club was not, in fact, my idea,” Tony hedged. “But the rest… I wanted to see what it was like, I guess. Being your boyfriend. If you were always like you were with those blind dates Nat set you up on.”

The blind dates were awkward and horrible and half the time the date ended after dinner and Steve never heard from them again. None of them had ever made him feel sick with worry when they were in danger, he didn’t fondly remember their every quirk, he didn’t do idiotic things just to make them happy. He figured he could assume that he didn’t act with them like the way he acted with Tony, not even close.

“And what did you discover?” Steve asked.

“It was nice,” Tony said. “I knew it would be. It was like we always were, but… more. Steve, I liked it, I liked all of it. The hand-holding, the dancing…”

“The flirting, the pet names?” Steve suggested. “I liked it too. Tony… if you knew how long I’ve wanted this…”

Tony smiled, his eyes bright. “Steve, are you saying…”

“Yes, Tony,” Steve said, a smile breaking free. “I would like to be your boyfriend. I want to hold your hand and flirt with you and go dancing with you and be the one you want to talk to. I’ve wanted it for a long time.”

“Shit, Steve,” Tony said. He was smiling like he couldn’t stop, his eyes bright as he kept sneaking sideways looks at Steve.

They were back at their dorms by then, the moon shining high above them. They went up the stairs and piled into the elevator, both smiling at each other quietly. When the elevator slid open, they headed down the hallway, their hands finding each other once more.

When they reached their rooms, Steve turned to Tony with a smile. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said. “You want to have breakfast with me?”

Tony looked back at him, his thumb tentatively stroking at Steve’s hand where their fingers were still twined together. “I think we could make something good, together,” he said, and Steve knew that he wasn’t just talking about the breakfast. “You’re not the only one who’s been thinking about this for a long time,” Tony told him, and Steve couldn’t resist.

He held Tony’s hand tighter and bent to gently cup Tony’s face with his other hand. Their lips met, and Tony sighed against him. The kiss was soft and tender, full of promise and the hope of better things to come. When they broke apart, Steve brushed Tony’s unruly curls back from his forehead and Tony smiled, his eyes shining.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Tony said.

“Tomorrow,” Steve agreed, and he let Tony go, knowing that they would have a lot more time to look forward to - together.

***

F I N

***

[babyhader]

Closest I’ve Come to Perfection

Snapshots from Richie and Eddie’s life together Post-It, as told by Eddie’s clothes. Extreme fluff and a little cheeky at times. 2.7k words. Ao3 link in bio.

The suit. The polo. The sweatpants. The shorts. Richie’s t-shirt. +1 more.

The Suit.

The suit comes first. The shoulders are dusted with drops of rain that haven’t yet absorbed, and the dark grey color matches the clouds outside. Eddie would never own an ill-fitted suit, but something about the way he stands on Richie’s doorstep looks like he's drowning in it, about to disappear completely into the fabric. Richie doesn’t have much time to take in the sad sight before Eddie launches at him, throwing his arms around his neck. Richie latches on too, burying his face in the soft curls at nape of Eddie’s neck and guiding them into the living room without letting go.

They sink into the couch tangled together. All the texts and calls and hopeful thoughts finally at peace where they hold onto each other. Richie hates the stiffness of the suit jacket, he doesn’t need another layer separating him from the man he loves. He moves his hands underneath it and feels the warmth radiating from Eddie through his thinner button-up.

“You’re really here, Eds,” Richie breathes in his scent and pulls tighter.

“Yeah, and I’m not going anywhere so you better get used to it.” Eddie quips.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this,” Richie sneaks his hand down to cheekily tap Eddie’s butt. Eddie jumps against him and smacks his arm as he pulls away.

“Maybe I shouldn’t live with you, Trashmouth,” Eddie says, but his cheeks flush and his eyes flutter in a way that tells Richie he loves it.

The room smells like rain and is glowing yellow, light from the amber lamp in the corner and the moonlight filtering through the watery window. Their arms secure around the other and their eyes only inches apart, it seems like their whole lives have led them here. Even the years they forgot about each other, the years they didn’t understand themselves, they were supposed to end up together the whole time.

They both lean in the small distance and meet in a soft kiss. Richie feels like he’s 15 again, like he could cry, like he never wants to stop. They both breath into the kiss and Eddie slips his hand up to cradle Richie’s face, thumbing over the rough stubble. It’s strange and enticing to kiss a man, noticing the hard lines of his face and the strength radiating off of him. Eddie feels stupid for never realizing this is what he really wanted, but then again, he wouldn’t have wanted it if it wasn’t with Richie.

Richie opens his mouth to deepen the kiss and all chill from the storm outside leaves Eddie’s body. He arches up into the taller man and hums in content.

Eddie has suits to hang and toiletries to arrange, but that can all wait.

The Polo

Richie knows that Eddie is a thousand times more put-together than he is. His hair is always in place, he moisturizes, he works out regularly. But he didn’t expect Eddie’s entire wardrobe to be comprised of polo shirts. The first weekend they spend together they go to a movie on Saturday- cue the baby blue polo. The farmer’s market on Sunday- a lovely coral polo. And when they arrive home to spend a whole afternoon lounging around together? The polos stay on.

“Are you comfortable?” asks Richie as they settle in to watch the latest episode of Dateline.

“Perfectly,” Eddie hums from his place tucked under Richie’s arm.

“No,” Richie shifts. “I mean, like your clothes dude. You really want to relax in khakis and a collared shirt?” Eddie swivels his head to give him a look.

“Fuck you, dude. Not all of us wear what could be considered pajamas all fucking day.”

“You love that I’m like a walking blanket, my little Eddiekins,” Richie coos and brings him closer. Eddie struggles to break free but eventually slumps against him.

“If you call me that again I’ll burn all your clothes,” Eddie says with no real bite. Richie smiles and shuts his mouth before pressing play.

The Sweatpants

Eddie hasn’t brought up his affinity towards a more formal wardrobe since their last conversation. He isn’t uncomfortable per se, but he knows it might stem from some unhealthy thoughts. Crisp clothes are clean, clean clothes mean you have your shit together, put-together people like their life.The longer he lives with Richie the more he notices that thinking is flawed. He had a life before, but he never liked it until now.

Richie is so free, open, and sometimes clueless in a way that Eddie finds intoxicating. He will talk to anyone and make them laugh, he’ll suddenly start a game of tag on their nightly walk, he will wear two different shoes to the grocery store and tell everyone about it.

Eddie loves him. They both know that, but Eddie isn't the best at expressing it at certain times. He doesn’t want to keep his walls up around Richie, physically or emotionally. As mad as it makes him to admit that Richie has a point, he agrees his wardrobe is a good, practical place to start opening up to the fullest.

Richie has been at a pitch meeting all day, which probably means it went well and he is bouncing script ideas off other writers. Eddie figures it is the perfect time to head to Target, grab a few new clothing items, and some ingredients for dinner.

---

A soft 80's ballad is drifting through the house when Richie opens the door. He’s high off creative energy and excited to tell Eddie about all of their ideas. The house smells vaguely Italian and his shoulders loosen at the warm atmosphere. Richie can't get over how lucky he is to share his life with someone, and that someone is actually Eddie.

He shuffles to the kitchen and stops dead in his tracks. Eddie is stood by the stove in a haze of steam as he stirs their dinner, which is not an uncommon sight. However, tonight is different because he is clothed in baggy sweatpants that grip his small waist and bunch around his ankles, paired only with a soft grey t-shirt. He looks like the physical embodiment of cuddling and Richie wants to sob.

He closes the space between them and wraps Eddie up from behind.

Eddie giggles, swaying slightly to the music in his arms, “Hi, hope you’re hungry I’m making chicken piccata with pasta.”

Richie responds by pulling the neck of his t-shirt to the side and kissing his neck and collar bone, nipping lightly. “I’m starving,” He says, voice low.

Eddie spins slowly in his grip and walks him away from the stove, back pressed into the island counter.

“If you wait just five minutes the food will be ready,” Eddie says casually, but his eyes tease something else.

“You look like you had a relaxing day,” Richie brings his thumbs up to rub at the fleece-like material.

“You like?” Eddie says twisting his hips around to give more of a view. “I thought I’d take your advice and get something less businessman-casual.”

“My Eds, taking my advice?” Richie acts shocked, “I have to text everyone! It’ll say: you’ll never guess who figured out what comfortable clothes are. Now I have this hot guy walking around in grey sweats and I can see the outline of his perfect di-“

“Hey!” Eddie swats his arm. “Sweatpants aren’t sexual, dumbass. You better not be texting them about my dick.”

“Don’t worry, I only tell Bev about that stuff…but she does probably tell Ben, and then he probably tells everyone else.” Richie gives a bright, apologetic smile and shrug. Eddie just stares at him exasperated.

“Fine, I won’t make them sexual, but I will need you on the couch and ready to cuddle for the rest of the night as soon as we finish eating.”

“Fine,” Eddie pecks his lips and turns around to dish up the food.

The Shorts

They’ve fallen into a wonderfully domestic routine. On weekdays they wake up, Eddie heads out for his morning run while Richie makes breakfast, then they both head off to work with a parting kiss. More times than not, Eddie will get home first in the evening and cook dinner.

Then on weekends, they spend every second together typically in bed or out exploring. It isn’t all easy, two 40-year-old men suddenly living very different lives. One still overcoming neuroses and emotional hang-ups, and the other accepting who he is in the public eye. But they grow together and learn to lean on those close to you.

Richie’s favorite part of growing with Eddie is seeing him come out of his shell. He is no longer just polite to everyone, but welcoming, laid back and easy to laugh. Richie knows his own life is better off by miles with Eddie in it. He’s learned how to communicate what he wants without always be the ‘yes’ man, and that if you stretch in the mornings you don’t have chronic back pain.

So yes, it has been months of growth, and bliss, and learning about the other. Now it’s nearing summer and they will have to turn the air conditioning on soon to ward off the California heat.

Richie is busy chopping onions and peppers for their omelets, intermittently sipping on his coffee, as he waits for Eddie to get back from his run. It's Friday morning and he’d had a slow start, not even getting out of bed until he heard the door shut behind Eddie. It had been a long week for both of them, but Eddie never wavers in his dedication to running. Richie is constantly impressed as he can barely open his eyes that early in the morning.

He hears the door slam shut behind him signaling Eddie’s return. Heavy breathing and snippets of a song come sweeping in from the hallway. Richie knows Eddie is stretching and still listening to his workout playlist. He’d helped Eddie make it, ensuring he was missing the motivation that comes only from early 2000’s rap.

He walks out to let Eddie know breakfast is almost ready, but his feet freeze in the archway. Eddie is wearing shorts, like short-shorts.

His mind flies back to childhood memories and awakenings connected with the shorts. The secret touches and quick wit he'd use as a way to diminish certain thoughts. These ones are different, maroon with black pipping along the edges. It is also different because Eddies thighs are muscular, tight from running and dewy with sweat as Eddie bends to touch his toes. The defined line of muscle runs up and up until it meets the soft curve of his butt. Richie hasn’t seen this much upper thigh since- well, last night when they were naked- but framed by the small piece of clothing is tempting in an entirely different way. They are slightly paler than the rest of his legs and Richie wants to bite them.

“Hey,” Eddie straightens up and extracts an earbud, “breakfast ready?” He smiles.

“Y-yeah,” Richie breathes out. Eddie becoming more comfortable in his own skin may be the best thing that happened to him and the thing that kills him.

Richie’s T-shirt

Richie is ecstatic during the car ride back to their house. He’d been gone on a short tour around a few select locations on the east coast. They both figured two weeks would be nothing, filled with texts and phone sex, they would get through it just fine. That was wrong - it was rough. Richie had always hated empty hotel rooms, but now that he could compare it to sharing a bed with Eddie they were unbearable.

Eddie wasn’t much better off. He had their dog, Atari, to cuddle and accompany him on walks, but he sensed the dog missed Richie just as much as he did. He found himself walking around the house wearing nothing but Richie’s t-shirts. It started as a way to comfort himself, but quickly devolved into horny thoughts or ideas of how Richie would joke about the dumb slogan printed on the front.

That’s how he found himself on Saturday afternoon, sitting on the couch as he waits for Richie. The fan blowing stagnant air around the living room like it’s waiting for things to liven-up too. He’s in an old Pink Floyd band tee. It’s faded black with an inch hole showing through the neck line. It is long enough to cover him to mid-thigh and one side hangs lower since the broad shoulders sit loosely on him.

He hears keys jingle behind the door and immediately gets up to meet Richie. Richie doesn’t hesitate to throw his bag down by the door and smile wide as he opens his arms for Eddie. Eddie jumps into them, pressing kisses across his face, airport germs be damned.

“Next time I’ll come with you- it’s not like I don’t have the vacation days saved up.”

“Please do, baby. I missed you so mu- is that my shirt?” Richie pulls back slightly to look across Eddie’s chest.

“Yeah, it’s comfy and still kinda smelled like you- mmph!” Eddie's last thought muffled as Richie crashes their lips together. He puts his hands on the smaller man’s waist and pushes him backwards until he is crowded against the wall. Richie seems to tower over him, even taller with shoes on while Eddie is stood with bare legs and feet.

Both of Richie’s hands spread across the sides of Eddie’s thighs and slide upwards, bringing the shirt with them. Each inch just reveals more skin and Richie feels his eyes go dark.

“You’re not wearing anything underneath this?” He asks, his voice going soft and dry.

“No, I’m not,” Eddie breaths, innocent eyes locking with Richie’s gaze.

Richie wastes no time and hoists him up. Eddie’s legs wrap around him tightly as they kiss, effortless and eager, on the short walk to their bedroom.

The (new) Suit

It is a deep navy blue, perfectly tailored. Eddie had run his hands over it a million times and loved the silky feeling under his calloused hands. Bev helped him pick it out, telling him blue would pair beautifully with his tan skin, and black would be better suited to Richie’s.

They are both adorned with matching baby pink boutonnieres. Richie’s tie came off sometime between the ceremony and the toasts.

The dance floor is filled with family and friends making fools of themselves. Clumsy limbs are illuminated by fairy lights strung high above their heads and the disco ball spinning from the DJ stand. Richie keeps twirling Eddie unaware of how dizzy he feels. Eddie finally pushes Stan in to be the victim of the next spin, laughing at his unamused look.

His cheeks burn from smiling at everyone around him. He’d gotten the love of his life, after all this time and all the struggle, they’d found each other.

The music changes to a slower tune and he drifts back over to Richie, taking his hand and starting to sway to the gentle rhythm. Richie grips his suit jacket and rests his head against Eddie’s. It is more like a hug than a dance, but they can’t care less, wrapped around each other in their own world.

“Have I told you that you look really amazing tonight?” Richie whispers.

“Yeah, Rich, you told me that like six times already.” Eddie smiles.

“I just need everyone to know how hot my husband is,” Richie rubs his hand over the smooth material covering Eddie’s back, “lookin' like a Men’s Warehouse model in this suit.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Eddie exhales and pauses for a moment, “Do you remember the night I showed up in my old work suit, all wet from the rain?”

“Of course.” Richie perks up at the memory.  

“I-I was so scared and excited. I was terrified of loving you but us not being able to fit into each other’s lives. I couldn’t lose you again.”

Richie squeezes him tighter, “Well, you’re in luck because I’m pretty sure we just signed some legally binding documents that make it impossible to lose me.” His voice sounds teasing and close to breaking at the same time.

“I’m just trying to say that it wasn’t much more than a year ago, but I feel so different now. I'm so much happier and comfortable because of you," Eddie closes his eyes and lets his head fall on Richie's shoulder, "I love you so much, I’m going to love you forever.”

“I love you too, Eds. I love you with my whole heart.”

[michaels-blackhat]

like it’s love

day 13/31 of my massive holiday project

for @brightloveee, this was intended to be about our mutual love for romcoms, but I sat down to type and that is not what happened. So, enjoy Michael as Diana of Themyscira and Alex as Steve Trevor.

The town was quiet. The townspeople subdued for the most part, with the exception of the tavern in the middle of the town’s square. There, those who remained drank and sang in celebration as the clouds slowly started to cover the stars.

Michael watched from his spot near their gear. He had seen celebrations like this before, had seen his people celebrate victories such as these before, though that was when he was still a child running away from his mother and his studies. That was before he knew about the world beyond the Antarian’s island, about how men fight war after war after war. That was before.

He wrapped his furs more tightly around himself, not used to the cold of this place. His home was a paradise, warm and tranquil for all that they constantly prepared for the worst. The night had fallen earlier than he was used to and it was much too cold. The furs, given to him by Captain Manes, were helpful, but still Michael felt himself drawn away from his spot in the corner and towards the fire.

He had been avoiding the fire, which currently only had the doctor by it. The doctor and Michael had not started their off well, insults thrown at him and by him both. The crossing of no man’s land seemed to help. Doctor Valenti had stopped looking at him as if he were a burden, as if he was nothing more than curls and useless armor as he had said when they had seen his Antarian armor. As for Michael, he respected anyone who would look upon their enemy with compassion and extend his hands to heal.

Max was like that, back at home. Had always said that the most important part of being a healer, was to look across enemy lines and see that they deserved as much respect. Michael tried to not let him thoughts wander to his siblings back on Antar. He tried not to think about how much Max would want to help everyone he came across, despite how much it may hurt him. He tried not to think about Isobel, how she would turn her nose up at the violence but let the sheer amount of love humanity held warm her heart. Really, he tried not to think about home and how he would never be able to return.

“Hey,” a soft voice said behind him. He was still a good distance from the fire, but Captain Alex Manes seemed to glow in the dim light.

“Hello,” Michael responded, just as quiet.

The night was so still, even with the crowded tavern nearby, Michael didn’t want to be the one who disturbed it.

“They’re thankful, you know,” Alex said when Michael turned to face him completely. “More than one of them told me so. They didn’t want to disturb you though.”

Michael smiled at that, at the townspeople’s thoughtfulness. “I didn’t want to disturb them,” he said as he watched a few people stumble out of the tavern and into the street, still wrapped in each other’s arms. Michael heard instruments in the background, something with strings that wasn’t what they played at home but familiar enough for him to appreciate the music. “They deserve a night to celebrate before they must rebuild. I’m afraid I don’t know any of the traditions, so I decided not to intrude.”

“I highly doubt they’d say you were intruding,” Alex said with a smile as he gestured towards the fire.

“I am content to watch,” Michael replied, smile growing at the sight of Alex’s face, relaxed and happy for the first time since he met him.

“Then I’m content to watch with you.”

Michael and Alex made their way to the fire. Kyle had been joined by their demolitions expert, Liz Ortecho. The four of them sat around the fire and enjoyed their comfortable silence. Michael continued to watch the people as they spread out from the tavern in pairs to move along to the music. Michael’s eyes kept flickering to Captain Manes. The firelight had made him glow at a distance, but up close he looked something akin to a god, skin so warm and golden that Michael thought that maybe the whole thing was a dream, something sent to him to tease him and his curiosity about the world beyond.

Michael knew it was real. He knew that his dreams could never compare to the man in front of him, this man who lamented the horrors of the world and then did everything in his power to fix them, who said the world was hopeless yet still filled it with hope. Michael could never dream someone so complex yet simple.

An average man indeed.

Michael was distracted from his musings when something cold hit his nose. He scrunched it up and shook his head in confusion when another spot of cold hit his cheek.

“What?” He asked as he looked around.

The others had not reacted at all, just continued to sit around the fire and people watch. Alex noticed Michael’s confusion, but he only watched him for a moment before he asked.

“Have you never seen snow before?” His question was asked with a laugh, but Michael did not feel insulted by it.

“No,” he replied as he watched the small white flakes fall from the sky. “Never.” He moved his head to look at Alex. “I’ve read about it before, but it’s too warm for it to snow at home.”

He watched as Alex tipped his head back, eyes closed, and just enjoyed the snowflakes falling to his skin and melting on contact. Michael just enjoyed watching Alex. The tavern door swung open again and a large group of people spilled out, laughed ringing through the night as the crowded started to dance in the falling snow.

Alex jerked his head over to the crowd. “You read about dancing too?” He asked, voice teasing.

“We have dancing on Antar,” Michael said with a sniff. “Though, this doesn’t look like our dancing.”

“And what does your dancing look like?” Liz asked from the other side of the fire.

“Combat,” was Michael’s reply. He shrugged. “A lot of our traditions are based around battle.”

“Well,” Alex said as he stood up, “ours isn’t so much like fighting, not unless you’re trying to avoid getting trampled on by Kyle’s clumsy feet.” He stuck out his hand so that it was near Michael. Michael ignored Doctor Valenti’s grumbles as he stared at the hand. “Come on,” Alex said gently when he realized Michael didn’t know what he meant. “I’ll show you how humans dance.”

As he pulled Michael up the music changed from the lively tune to something soft, something almost mournful.

Michael still found the sound to be lovely.

Alex pulled them a little away from the fire and turned around to face Michael. He kept Michael’s hand in his while his other arm wrapped around Michael’s waist and pulled him in close. Michael’s hand hovered awkwardly until he looked over at the other couples dancing and placed his hand on Alex’s shoulder.

Their faces were close.

Alex swayed them in time to the music, never truly moving, simply shifting their balance as the music played on.

“Is this how humans dance?” Michael asked. His breath ghosted against Alex’s cheek.

“Some,” Alex admitted, voice close to Michael’s ear. “There are too many groups of humans for us all to dance the same way.” He moved his head close to Michael’s. Alex’s forehead brushed Michael’s temple. “This is how you dance with someone you care about, someone you like, where I’m from.”

His voice had a tone of confession to it, as if he was admitting something he felt like he shouldn’t.

“Then it’s good that we’re dancing like this,” Michael said. He moved his head slightly, so that he could he could nudge against Alex’s, just as he had seen his parents do in quiet moments. His breath brushed Alex’s cheek again, but this time his lips followed. “Because I care about you, Captain Manes.”

“Michael,” Alex whispered, voice rough. “I know you care, you care about everyone. I meant.” He cut himself off. Michael pressed his lips to Alex’s cheek again, this time it was firm. This time Alex knew it was with intent.

“I know Alex,” Michael whispered against his cheek. He moved his head so that he could look at Alex, even though all he saw was the side of his face. “I know what kind of caring you mean Alex. We have love on Antar too.”

Alex turned his head so that he could see Michael’s eyes.

“Do you have romance on Antar too?” He asked, eyes locked on Michael’s.

“Yes,” Michael whispered as he leaned his head close. His nose brushed Alex’s and Alex gasped. Michael smiled as he pressed his lips to Alex’s. His lips were soft, cold from the air and from the snow. Michael moved his lips so that he could place a soft kiss to Alex’s bottom lip before he pulled back. Their breath mingled. Michael could feel Alex’s smile as they pressed their foreheads together and continued to dance.

[strugglingartistno16]

You Can’t Fix Me

A/N: Hello love, thank you for your request! I hope that I met your expectations. Excuse me for the lack of smut, as I generally don’t feel too comfortable with writing it. 

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader

Genre: A bit of fluff, a bit of angst

Warnings: Just the usual angst stuff

Wordcount: 1940

Masterlist

Eventually, it was the obnoxiously loud ringing of your phone that tore you from your sleep. With a small yawn that escaped from your lips and furrowed eyebrows you picked up the device from your nightstand, as you internally cursed the person that had woken you up at this unholy hour of the day. However, you quickly shut down your angry thoughts when you saw who the disrupter was.

There were almost thirty missed texts and calls from Taehyung, making your heart beat against your ribcage at the speed of light. You tried to convince yourself that it was solely the concern that made your pulse rise and not your hopeless adoration for the man on the other line, as you were constantly suppressing the true feelings that you held for him.

You sat up and rubbed your eyes, desperately trying to get rid of those last bits of tiredness that were still hovering above you like a grey cloud, as you picked up the call.

“Y/N?” The mere sound of his voice made your heart melt.

“Taehyung, what’s wrong?” You asked, voice still raspy from just waking up.

“Y/N, can you… Uh…” He stuttered but didn’t get to finish his sentence, as he burst into a fit of laughter.

Realization hit you, as you pinched the bridge of your nose and let out an annoyed sigh. “You’re drunk.” You bluntly stated.

“Duh, of course? Can’t you smell it, sweety?” He teased you as your cheeks took a light shade of pink due to the pet name.

“Tae, where are you? Are you alone?” You asked, slightly irritated by his behavior.

He burst into another fit of giggles, before responding “I’m where you’re not.”

“Tae, this is not funny. Should I pick you up?” Without waiting for him to answer, you began to put on more suitable clothes to leave the house.

It was silent for a few seconds, before he muttered “Yes please, but I’ll only tell you if you promise not to get mad.” Taehyung knew that you despised nothing more than having to pick up drunk people from all over the town, as you constantly complained to him about doing this almost every weekend for your friends. “I know how much you hate doing this.”

Another sigh escaped from your lips as you picked up the keys to your car and left the apartment. “I don’t hate it. I simply don’t enjoy doing it, that’s all. But I promise that I won’t be angry with you. Now please, give me the address.” You begged and sat into the drivers’ seat of your car.

The bar was almost an hour away, making you wonder as to why the boys had chosen a location so far off since they usually met somewhere closer to one of their homes. At least, you expected Taehyung to have went out with his friends, since it would be rather unusual for him to go out by himself.

When you pulled up in front of the building it didn’t take you long to spot the blue haired man that was sitting outside on the lawn across from the bar. He was deep in thought, ripping out strands of grass from the ground and putting them into a small pile on his thigh. But as soon as he saw your car, he quickly stood up and headed towards you, happily swaying from side to side.

How had he gotten himself into this?, you thought to yourself.

Taehyung opened the door to your car and sat on the passenger seat, flashing you a wide grin.

“Where are the others? How could they have left you alone at the bar?” You asked and drove off, while scrunching your nose at the smell of the probably not so cheap liquor that still lingered on your friend and that was now filling your vehicle.

“You mean the Hyungs and Kook? They didn’t want to come, so –“ He hickuped and began to giggle once more. “So, I went by myself.”

You glanced at him but brought your eyes back to the road just as quickly, furrowing your brows in confusion. “You got drunk all by yourself?” You asked in disbelieve. “Tae, I’m sorry but that’s just stupid. Why would you do that?”

He didn’t answer you and the silence that started to spread in your car was almost as heavy as the scent of alcohol. You felt bad for sounding so angry, even though you promised him not to be, but the intensity of his stare still caught you by surprise when you glanced at him.

You decided that it would be best if you left him alone for now, still feeling uncomfortable at the sudden shift in mood.

You were relieved when you had finally reached his apartment, as the tension in the car had become unbearable, but you tried to lift the mood by looking at Taehyung and giving him a small smile. “So, I guess you should head inside and get some sleep. You know, sober up a bit.” You laughed, but he didn’t return it.

He simply nodded and reached for the door handle but stopped in his track when he looked at you again. “Spend the night with me.” He begged, voice being nothing more than a quiet whisper. You were unsure whether the tears that you saw forming at the brim of his eyes were real or whether it was the dim light that played tricks on your mind, but nonetheless you couldn’t say no to this man so you simply nodded.

“Okay.” You whispered in return and the two of you headed towards his apartment. As soon as you entered it, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

Leaning onto the sink you stared at your reflection in the mirror, your eyes being red from the lack of sleep and shoulders slumped from the emotional exhaustion. You were tired. Tired of hiding your feelings from Taehyung, tired of him behaving so weirdly but most importantly tired of yourself. Why couldn’t you be one of those people that were able to easily confess their feelings to another person, not caring about the consequences or the rejection? Maybe that was one of the main reasons why you hoped that Taehyung would never find out – the inevitable possibility of getting rejected by the man you loved the most and therefore simultaneously losing your best friend scared you a lot.

You splashed some water into your face and took a deep breath as you walked back into the corridor. The only light that was illuminating the otherwise dark apartment came from Taehyungs’ bedroom, so you headed towards it, assuming that he was inside. You didn’t bother to enter the room but simply leaned against the doorframe, looking at Taehyung.

He was laying on his bed, hands resting on his stomach as he stared at the ceiling and you knew that something was wrong, you could sense it. He turned to you, slightly raising his head as he felt your presence and patted the spot next to him, encouraging you to lay down with him.

You simply shook your head and gave him a small smile. “I don’t want to disrupt your sleep. I’ll just stay on the couch.” You explained, earning a confused look from the man on the bed.

“Please.” He begged almost wistfully, and again it didn’t take him long to convince you.

Laying down next to him, your body tensed up almost immediately as he scooted closer to you and pulled his blankets over your body, not tearing his eyes from yours for more than a second. Taehyung loved to cuddle and usually you didn’t mind being touchy with him, but this was different from his usual desire for closeness. This felt more intimate.

Goose bumps formed wherever he accidently touched your exposed skin, making him furrow his eyebrows in confusion as he pulled the sheets tighter around you. “You’re freezing, why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve turned up the heat.” He mumbled, tracing your arm with his fingertips.

You didn’t know whether he was being serious or not, but still responded “I guess I’m just a bit cold.”

He simply nodded, as his fingertips kept lingering on your skin, wandering up to your collarbones and finally stopping at your neck, admiring you like you were one of his favorite paintings. Leaning onto his side, he softly cupped your face with his hand and gently began to stroke your cheek with his thumb.

You shuddered under his touch, as your eyes began to frantically search his for an answer, confused by his behavior. He returned your stare equally as nervous, licking his bottom lip as he took a deep breath, the smell of alcohol slowly fading.

“I know you want me just as much as I want you.” He spoke up, voice deep and raspy as he kept staring at your lips more often than necessary. Taken aback by his sudden confession, it took you a while to comprehend what was happening and even after a few minutes you were still unsure.

“What?” You finally said, as your body began to tense up again. He simply stared at you, inching his face closer towards yours. His lips brushed over yours, barely touching them but it was enough to send a shiver through your body, making you ache for more.

But he suddenly let go of you. His eyes grew wide as he jumped from the bed and began to pace around the room, hands madly running through his hair. Shocked by the sudden shift in mood you shot up and stared at him in confusion.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, voice sounding unbearably broken as he let out a shaky breath. “I shouldn’t have – Because you don’t –“ He stuttered, making you stand up to face him, taking his hand into yours.

“Tae what’s going on? I thought –“ You paused and stared into his eyes, heart shattering as you saw that tears were streaming down his face.

“I like you, Y/N.” He whispered, shoulders shaking violently. “I liked you for so long, but I don’t –“ He began, but didn’t seem to find the right words.

You were stunned but still waited in anticipation for his next words. However, he stayed silent, so you wiped the tears from his face and rested your hand on his cheek. Leaning into your touch, he grabbed your hand as if he held onto dear life.

Taking a deep breath, you took all of your courage and told him “Tae, I like you a lot, too. I have liked you for so long and hearing that you indeed feel the same way about me makes me incredibly happy.” You finally admitted, while biting your lower lip. “What doesn’t make me happy is seeing you so obviously broken. I want to be there for you Tae, please tell me what’s wrong so I can help you fix this.”

He frantically shook his head, pulling away from you altogether as he took a step back. “You can’t fix me, Y/N, nobody can.”

“But Taehyung –“

“No, Y/N.” He cut you off. “You don’t understand. I will ruin you. I will ruin this relationship like I do with everything else in my life and you don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve me, not like this.” He whispered, voice filled with anger and despair.

Before you were able to even understand what was going on, he stormed out of his apartment and slammed the door shut, leaving you alone in his home, more confused and broken hearted as ever.