#hes so arrogant but he needs ethan so bad it makes him look stupid

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

do u think he has a shot

[elisysd]

22. It’s a love story baby just say yes

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Chapter soundtrack: Love Story - Taylo Swift

Julia had spent her entire flight from Shanghai to Milan making phone calls and sending emails. She was a girl on a mission and it was a welcome distraction, the opportunity for her to take her mind off of Ethan. Her dad had a clear vision of what he wanted and her job was to make it happen. No matter what. It had been settled, the proposal would happen on the Thursday morning, before the media activities, so it would still be calm. A lot of people were expected which wouldn’t surprise Lyanna as Monza was a family tradition and friends and family were always attending. This year, there would be a little bit more of loved ones but Julia hoped her mom would not find that weird.

Beside being excited about the proposal, she couldn’t wait to meet someone that was dear to her. Her cousin, Daphne. She was not really her cousin by blood but they had basically grown up together until life got in the way and they had to go on their separate ways. But Daphne lived in Italy and she would be in Monza, as her parents, Lily and Lando would be there. She had texted her as soon as she had landed and agreed to meet up in a coffee shop in Milan where Julia would spend a few days before she was needed on the track.

It wasn’t hard for her to find Daphne. She hadn’t change. She still had the same dark hair and tanned skin, the result of years spent in Greece and now in Italy for her art studies. She was casually working on her laptop, taking notes on the side but as soon as Julia appeared in her field of vision, she squealed before getting up and running to her.

“Dane! Oh my gosh, it’s been so long!” Julia exclaimed, attracting weird looks from customers.

“Julia! I’m so happy to see you! It’s been so long, oh my gosh I have so many questions. We need to catch up, come here.” the girl retorted, taking her by the arm and dragging her to the area she was sitting in.

Julia ordered a cappuccino before they started talking. Daphne hadn’t changed. She was still passionate about art and could spent hours talking about it, without it being annoying. Julia told her all about her job, avoiding mentioning her struggles, she wanted to have a day without thinking about them.

“And… who is that mystery man you are soft-launching on your social media for weeks now? I saw the rumours but I can’t believe that it could be Ethan. You have always hated him.”

Julia winced. She knew the history between Daphne and Ethan. How he was her first love and first kiss and how he had been an asshole to her, playing her and making her believe that he loved her. It took months for Daphne to forget him and with time, she had become an ally whenever Julia needed to rant and vent about him. She knew that Daphne hated him as much as her. And that’s why she didn’t know how to announce to her that they were dating. She was scared of how the brunette would react.

“Yeah… about that…” she started.

“Is it a guy from Lamborghini? Or Ferrari? I have to admit that Elijah is pretty good looking. I always had a thing for Spanish men. I have a Spanish teacher and let me tell you that he is hot as hell.” Daphne told her, excitedly.

“Daphne, you have to promise you won’t get mad.”

“Why would I be?”

“Just promise me you will let me explain everything before jumping to conclusions, okay.”

“Ju, you are scaring me.”

“Just promise!”

“Okay, fine! Oh gosh, don’t need to get your knickers in a twist!”

Julia sighed and took a deep mouthful of her cappuccino.

“I didn’t expect it, you have to believe me. It just… happened. Ethan and I are dating. And I didn’t plan it you have to believe me. We spent time together and he is not that bad, he definitely is a great guy. A bit stupid and arrogant sometimes and he likes to joke around and to tease me more than necessary but… I really like him. I feel… seen with him you know. I can be myself with him he won’t judge me or use me. I feel safe and I feel good about myself. It has not happened in a long time. You know how hard it is for me to trust people and to create friendships and relationships. You know that it wouldn’t have happened if I had any doubts about him. Right?”

Daphne was quiet. Too quiet. She was avoiding Julia’s gaze and when she finally looked at her, she could see how angry she was.

“Okay.”

“Okay? You… you are okay with it? Like one hundred percent sure?”

She could see Daphne scribbling furiously on her notebooks and drawing shapes and lines, as if she was trying to contain her anger.

“What is done is done, anyway. It’s not as if I had something to say about it. You won’t care. So you do you, Julia.”

“I don’t want things to get weird and uncomfortable for you… I wanted you yo know before we make our first public apparition together this weekend.”

“Oh, so it is that serious, then. Great. Amazing. Perfect. What is the next step? You are going to ask me to be your maid of honour for your wedding? The godmother of your kid?”

“Dane… please…”

She snapped her head to Julia and that’s when she finally exploded.

“You know how bad he hurt me. You know how many nights I spent thinking that something was wrong with me because of him. How it affected the image I had of myself. I was fourteen at the time but his words and the feeling I won’t ever be enough for someone is something that I still carry with me. You know all of that. And still, you decide to be with him? After all he has done to me and has done to other girls? You will just be another name on his list, Julia! Nothing else! He doesn’t love you, he is incapable of that! I thought you, out of all people, would know that and would never fall for that.”

She was standing now and with rage started to put back in her bag her things.

“Dane… please…” begged Julia.

“No. From now on, it’s Daphne for you.” said the brunette and without a second glance, left Julia here, thinking that she had lost one of her best friend for a boy, something she had swore to herself would never happened.

She wandered the streets of Milan, lost in thoughts. She knew telling about Ethan to Daphne would be hard but she hadn’t expected this reaction. It had always been a sensitive topic but it had been year snow since the holidays in Greece, there was water under the bridge. But not for everyone apparently. Now, she could only hope that Daphne wouldn’t be mad for long. She would hate herself if she had sacrificed a friendship for a boy. But it would be a problem for later, for now she needed to finalised the last detail for her dad’s big day.

“You look gorgeous, Julia.” said her aunt Kika.

She was wearing the exact replica of the dress her mom had worn the night she won her Oscar. It had taken a lot of time for her aunt but she managed to work her magic and find it in a vintage shop.

“Thank you. I’m so stressed out. I hope everything will be perfect. They deserve it.”

“You managed to make it happen, Julia. And it looks so amazing. They will love it.”

A few seconds later, Louis went out of the bathroom, wearing the special merch of the year her dad and mom had gotten together. He looked really cute but was looking very uncomfortable.

“It was in the attic. We should have cleaned it before I got to wear that.” he complained.

“You look fine, don’t worry. And I promise that I soon as dad got on one knee, you can remove it.”

The group soon headed to the reception where Pierre was waiting for them, along with both Julia’s uncles, Lorenzo and Arthur. They were all dressed in their best tuxedos, holding presents and red roses to give to Lyanna. Julia checked her phone, they still had one hour to get into position and be ready for when her mom would arrive with Kat and Lily. She had to leave now to make sure everything was in place and give the last instructions.

In the Ferrari hospitality, Charles had never felt so stressed out in his entire life. Winning a championship, marrying Lyanna, having their kids, all had been stressful moments, but the idea of asking his wife a second time to marry him… that was another level of stress. Of course he knew she would say yes, there was not a doubt in his mind. But still, he was asking her to keep trusting him with her heart. He was asking her to keep promising they would be there for one another. Officially. And he was scared, so scared that his fingers were shaking as he tried to put on his racing suit.

“Do you need help?” Julia entered the room, a soft smile on her face as she saw her dad struggling.

“Please. I look stupid.”

“No, you don’t. Sure the suit is a bit tighter that on the pictures but hey, you are an old man now.”

“I’m not that old.”

“You are vintage.”

A laugh escaped him and Julia soon joined him.

“Thank you, Ju’. For everything. I couldn’t have done it without your help.” he said squeezing her to his side.

“Don’t make me cry right know. Are you sure you have everything? Your wedding ring?”

“With Elijah.”

She nodded. One last hug to her dad and a kiss on his cheek and she was out. He feet drove her to the end of the pitlane where was exposed her dad’s first world championship car. It was still looking perfect, even after all this time. She was taking the time to inspect it when she saw a bright red suit coming in her direction.

“Wow, Julia you look… I have no words.”

“Thanks. I tried to reproduce my mom’s Oscar winning look. I hope she will like it.”

Martin kept on staring at her, making her slightly uncomfortable until Elijah came to them, his helmet on, completely in his world. They were soon joined by Louis and her dad, that sat in the car. She addressed a reassuring smile to her dad as he kept fidgeting with his fingers.

Soon, Ethan arrived next to Max, telling Julia that her mom was on her way.

When Lyanna arrived in the paddock with Kat, she knew that there was something weird about this day. Everyone had been vague when talking to her and she had barely seen her husband and children when usually they were all glued together when Monza was happening. She knew Julia had stuff to do but Charles… He always managed to find time for her, to take her out for dinner or to walk around the track after the qualifying to reminisce about the past. But this year, they didn’t do it and she had to admit that it was bothering her. As she was heading to the Ferrari hospitality, Kat quickly took her by the arms to give her an envelope.

“What is this?”

“A present. Kika and Pierre have another one that is waiting for you.”

Lyanna looked at her in disbelief, not understanding what was going on. Still, she opened it to find a framed picture in black and white of Charles and herself, in Abu Dhabi right after he finished the race and got his first title. This moment would always hold a special place in Lya’s heart, she was pregnant with Julia at the time and it was also that day, Charles had asked her to marry him. She blinked quickly to prevent the tears to fall down and walked in the direction Kat was pointing to her.

There, in front of what was once where Alpine’s hospitality was standing, she found the couple and their two boys, twins, waiting for her, with a big piece of what she guessed was art in front of them.

“I’m so happy to see you all. It’s been a while. Tristan, Leo, you boys are so tall now! Taller than your dad.”

“Or maybe it’s just him who is getting smaller with the age.” shrugged Tristan making his brother laugh.

“Ahahah. You boys are funny. Anyway, there you go. For you.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, thinking that it was very on brand from the Gaslys. She remembered the picture all too well, it was engraved in her memory forever. Kika, Pierre and her, all wearing Pierre’s t-shirt with his name and driver’s number, laughing their asses off. They already had the almost same picture at home that Charles was hellbent on keeping it hidden.

“Charles will love it, I’m sure.” she said between two laughs.

“Lily and Lando are waiting for you, a few meters away from here.” added Kika.

As Lyanna was about to head there, she got stopped by Kika that threw her arms around her.

“I love you. You are like the sister I’ve never had and I admire you so much.”

“Kika! Don’t say that, I’m already about to cry…”

Reluctantly, they let go of each other and Lyanna headed to Lily and Lando. Daphne and her brother, Percy were there too. That made her happy, she knew how close Julia and Daphne were and how Percy was what was the closest thing a friend would be for Louis.

“So what do you guys have for me? A painting?” she asked. She knew what to expect now.

“No, better than that. Even though I had to stop Lily to make one.”

“There will always have other opportunities…” she smiled, handing to Lyanna a small package.

It was a gorgeous necklace made of seashells. She put it around her neck quickly.

“Santorini seashells.” Lily added.

“Your wedding…”

“We know how important that place is both for you and Charles.” said Lando, an arm around his wife waist and the other around Daphne.

“Where am I supposed to go next?” asked Lyanna.

“You learn fast. Joris is waiting by the Ferrari’s hospitality.”

And indeed he was there, sitting on the steps leading inside the building. He had a bag next to him and waved when he finally saw Lyanna. He scooted over, inviting her to sit by his side.

“So what do we remind you of? Because that’s the whole deal, right? Giving me things that are reminders of Charles and I relationship.”

“I think you will like this one. Everyone went with thoughtful and emotional gift, I presume. I chose one of my favourite moment.”

Inside the package, Lyanna found black pants, a black hoodie and a black balaclava. She shot a curious glance to Joris, waiting for him to explain.

“The day Charles dragged me along because you were going Christmas shopping with his ex-girlfriend. I felt like going on a spy mission. It was pathetic but cute and funny and I remembered thinking, if my best friend is ready to do go this far for this girl, then I’m sure she is the one and they will get married. I wasn’t wrong. Thank you for being there for him, for not letting him down. And thank you for being one of my best friend too. I love you, Lyanna. I don’t think I’ve ever told you.”

“Oh Joris. Come here.” She knew she would cry but never did she think it would be Joris that would give her the final blow.

They hugged for a moment and she swore Joris was crying too.

“So who is next?”

“Lorenzo and Arthur. They are the last ones before your husband. They are waiting for you at the garage.”

So she went there. She didn’t need to guess for long about the present, it was right in Arthur’s hands.

“A crown of flowers?” she smiled when she finally got to them.

“We don’t have to explain the reference, right?” asked Arthur.

“No you don’t. This movie will forever hold a special place in my heart, for more reasons than one.”

“It’s the beginning of your story. It’s how you met Charles. Everything led back to you so, a crown of flowers, a never ending circle… it was fitting.” explained Lorenzo.

“Can I wear it?”

Arthur put it on the top of her head as Lorenzo made her spin around.

“So… time to go meet Charles and your children. They are waiting at the end of the pitlane.”

They made their way together and Lyanna gasped when saw what was waiting for her there. Firstly, she noticed everyone standing there, looking at her as Arthur put a hand on the small of her back to make her move forward. She saw the smiles and how Kat, Kika and Lily were on the verge of tears. Then, she noticed Julia and Louis, perfect carbon copy of her and Charles. She went to them as they were handing her a bouquet of red and yellow roses with a prancing horse in it.

“You two… if I had known…” she started, taking both of them in her arms.

“That’s the whole point of a surprise, mom. For you not to know.” Julia joked, her throat sore as she was trying her best to not cry.

Lyanna kissed them both on the cheek before finally turning to her husband. He was still as handsome as when she first met him and suddenly it was like she went back in time to twenty-five years ago. Same place, same suit, same smile and same butterflies when he was near her. They went though hell and back, alone and together but managed to find their way back to each other every time. And she would do it all over again if given the chance. Martin and Elijah were next to him, entirely dressed and with their helmets on and visor down, looking like bodyguards and she couldn’t help but laugh through the tears. Finally, Charles stood up and went to her taking both of her hands in his.

“Lyanna, my love and the better part of me… I swore to you almost twenty-five years ago that I would always be fast, that I would always come back to you and that I would always love you. There has not been a day when this promise was not in the back of my mind. You complete me. It had always been you and I against the world. And then Julia came along and it was us three against the world. And then came Louis and it was us four against the world. You guys are my biggest strength but you, you are my everything. You are not only my wife or the mother of my children, or an Oscar-winning actress. You are my soulmate. You are my best friend, sorry Joris, my shoulder to lean on and my home. You are my lighthouse. You’re the only constant in my life. I’ve not always been the best dad or the best husband, I made mistakes, I keep on making them but you’ve always been by my side to help me get through them or to slap me in the back of the head. I’m still thanking the stars and my guardian angels that they put you on my path. I love you is not strong enough to express what I feel for you, Lya. It had never been. I wish a word could exist to tell you exactly what you are for me. So, Lyanna… would you keep on making me the happiest man on earth and to become my wife? A second time? Would you accept to keep on walking together on the life’s path and grow old together?”

Julia couldn’t help but cry as she saw her mom sobbing and profusely nodding. She felt a hot hand on her shoulder and someone pulling her against a chest. She recognised Ethan’s scent as he kissed the side of her head, still holding her close and rocking her slowly. She knew the photographers would have a field day between her parents and Ethan and herself but frankly, she didn’t care.

“I want to thank our Ju’ who helped me putting all of that in place. It wouldn’t have been this magical without her help.” said her dad, his voice filled with emotion.

She waved awkwardly, burying her head in Ethan’s chest as everyone was clapping and cheering for her. She felt happy for her parents but if she could hide somewhere she would. It was their day, not hers. She had only helped his dad to make his vision alive. Nothing else. She felt colder as Ethan let go of her but soon she was engulfed in a hug by her mom as she recognised her perfume. And then, two arms circled her waist and she knew it was her brother. Finally, two other strong arms pulled them all together against a hard chest and she knew it was her dad. She was hearing her mother’s sobs and feeling the awkward pat in the back that her brother was giving her. Knowing how much he was taking it upon himself to participate in the family hug made her heart full and made her want to cry even more.

“I love you all. More than anything. You guys are my biggest trophies and my biggest victory.” said Charles in their ears.

Author's note: I was so excited for this chapter I couldn't wait for you all to read it! A big thank you to @smoooothoperator for allowing me to borrow Daphne and her family. If you want to read about them, please check out her story Beautiful Stranger! What do you think will happen next? Let me know your theories, I love to read them.

Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. It helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.

Taglist:

@herondalism @aundercover @musingsbyshreya @karmabyfernando @reengard @mycenterfold @smoooothoperator

[lifeofkaze]

When Stars Ignite - Chapter 29

HPHM Rockstar AU

A/N: General Warning: This whole fic has a general warning of being NSFW / 18+. We will give specific warnings for every chapter in itself, but several adult themes will be more or less present in every chapter, may it be explicitly or in mention. These include sexual topics, drug abuse, (ab)use of alcohol, smoking and a whole lot of cursing. Specific Warning: Language, drinking, Jason Everett, a whole lot of bad decisions ~~~ Find the masterpost here, the previous chapter here and the next one here. The songs featured before every chapter can be found on this pretty badass playlist here. ~~~ This work is a collaboration with @the-al-chemist Taglist: @slytherindisaster @night-rhea @carewyncromwell @thatravenpuffwitch

I'm in the details with the devil

You know, the world can never get me on my level

I just got to get you out the cage, I'm a young lover's rage

Gonna need a spark to ignite

~ Fall Out Boy - My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark ~

Despite her fears, Lizzie managed to find and calm down Everett before he had been able to do anything stupid.

The amount of sweet talk involved in getting him to come back with her had been obscene; Lizzie wasn’t sure if she’d ever had to flatter someone as much as Everett. But no matter how blatantly exaggerated her words had been, they’d had the intended effect and had coaxed the huffy singer back to finish the soundcheck.

When the two of them returned, Artemis was still nowhere to be seen, which was probably for the better.

Charlie was working on the igniters that were still unchecked in silence. His brow was creased in concentration as he worked his way through the devices with the greatest care; he would make sure a blunder like the one before would not happen again.

It had been an accident, of course, but an igniter going off unprompted was the worst thing that could happen to a pyro tech; Lizzie could tell how much it was eating away at Charlie that someone could have been severely hurt.

Although Everett had agreed to come back, the hard words between the two men were far from forgotten. Both of them seemed to have come to enough of their senses to ignore each other, however; at least for the time being.

Everett held his head high as he strutted past Charlie to his microphone, while Charlie didn’t even bother looking up. Lizzie sighed as she sat down behind her drum kit.

Why did it always have to be like that with Everett these days? He’d always had arrogant tendencies, even back when he had joined Equinox, but if they had known what fame and pressure would turn him into, maybe they would have thought twice about Ethan’s idea of signing up the charismatic singer.

But even so, when Everett sang his first lines, his voice was warm and soft like honey, as if nothing major had just happened. The sound carried Lizzie away, her mind shutting off and her hands taking over the well practised patterns she had to play.

It was in moments like these when the old Everett was shining through, showing that he was still there, hidden under all this rockstar bravado.

He had always been a fun guy to be around, easy to talk and joke with. Lizzie truly wished there was a way back for him from the path to ruin he was walking on, for the sake of the band and for himself.

***

If there was one thing every member of Equinox had learned over the years, it was how to put their personal grievances aside when it was showtime. Even so, Lizzie was surprised just at how good their performance had been.

The crowd had been ecstatic, the people rocking along with them, screaming on the top of their lungs. Lizzie had been able to hear them shouting for more long after the lights had turned on again.

After they had all taken a well deserved shower, they met up in one of the more spacious dressing rooms of the arena.

The atmosphere was quiet but tense as everyone was waiting for Ethan to return with news; even though it was already far after midnight, he and the representatives of their record company had already started discussing their new deal.

The amount of time it took them to reach an agreement made Lizzie nervous; where she was concerned, tonight’s show must have been among the best they had played.

But why wasn’t Ethan back already?

Her fingers itched for the red pick buried in the pocket of her jeans, but she resisted the urge to let it wander through her fingers.

For whatever reason, Orion still wasn’t talking to her, only adding to her restlessness; if there was one thing Lizzie hated above all else, it was not knowing what was going on.

Everyone’s eyes darted to the door when it opened what felt like an eternity later.

Ethan’s face was stony as he walked into the room, everyone inside waiting with baited breath on what he would have to say.

He left them guessing a moment longer before an impish smirk spread on his face. He drew his hands he had held hidden behind his back to the front, revealing a thick brown envelope he waved at them triumphantly.

“We did it everyone!”

A collective cry of relief went through the room. The cold knot in Lizzie’s chest dissolved in an instant, and she and Skye clasped their hands together with big grins on their faces. Lizzie felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off her shoulders; she hadn’t even realised how on edge she’d been.

Her eyes went over to Orion; naturally, he wasn’t as exuberant as the others, but the relief radiating off him was almost palpable.

As if feeling her eyes on him, Orion caught her gaze. But instead of smiling, he dropped his eyes to the ground and turned to Merula. The cheerful smile on Lizzie’s face faltered, if only a little.

“I just want to say, I’m proud of you, everyone. I know it hasn’t been the easiest tour so far, but like always, we’ve come out on top,” Ethan beamed at them like a proud father would at his children.

“The show was a success all the way through. The execs were over the fucking moon.”

Ethan smirked as he continued.

“The deal was good as done even before they came here. You really did the trick with all the charity shit. They just wanted a last confirmation,” he went on, clearly satisfied his plan had worked.

He nodded to where Charlie and Artemis were standing.

“They told me to give our pyro tech their regards, they were blown away by the new effects. Keep up the good work, Charlie and Alexis.”

Lizzie and Skye exchanged a look; the irony of the fire effects being praised especially after the catastrophic soundcheck wasn’t lost on them.

“We might have our budget in the bag, but that’s no reason to half our efforts,” Ethan said. “There are some fans waiting to meet you in the bar and I’ve prepared a little surprise for you as well.”

As it turned out, Ethan’s surprise consisted of several boxes of ice cold champagne he had sent to the bar adjacent to the arena.

When the band arrived, most of the fans waiting for them were already holding glasses of the sparkling golden drink; they weren’t quite sure what was going on, but not complaining about it either.

Lizzie noted that there were far more people present than there would usually be, and she suspected Ethan behind that as well.

There were far more women than men present, and most of them rather pretty, too; with a flash of annoyance, Lizzie could even spot the familiar face of Emily Tyler among them.

Lizzie forced herself to smile when all she wanted to do was roll her eyes; count on Ethan to turn their moment of triumph into a publicity event.

All of a sudden, Lizzie wasn’t in the mood to celebrate anymore; she spent the time that was expected of her talking to their fans, politely thanking them for their support and enthusiasm. She usually enjoyed interacting with them, but today it felt more like a chore than anything else. All she wanted to do was go back to the hotel, curl up in her bed and sleep the day off.

She watched Orion, who was still avoiding her company; he was standing next to Emily Tyler and some other girls. The influencer was twirling the ends of her long brown ponytail, which was decidedly less messy than Lizzie’s own, around her finger while laughing at something Orion had said.

Lizzie’s hand brushed over her own tangled curls in an unconscious attempt to make them appear more neatly, and she turned from the sight with a frustrated sigh.

After a while, Ethan escorted a part of the fans - those who were only there because they had bought VIP tickets - outside, and then left for their hotel himself; Lizzie was glad to see all of them go. She was tired of smiling all the while when she didn’t feel like it.

She would have loved to have a little chat with Charlie, who never failed to cheer her up; but her childhood friend was standing in a corner of the room with Andre and Artemis, and Lizzie wasn’t in the mood of being snapped at.

So she stuck with Skye and Erika, who was watching the people in the room with her usual unmoved expression. At least the blonde head of security seemed to enjoy herself as much as Lizzie did, which wasn’t that much at all.

Lizzie was good friends with both of them, but she could also tell when her presence was tolerated rather than enjoyed. So when she had finished her drink, she lingered at the bar, giving Skye and Erika some space.

Her eyes swept the room, unsure of what to do now; Lizzie wasn’t used to having to look for a conversation.

After a few minutes, company found her in the form of Everett. Considering how many girls were scattered around the room, Lizzie was surprised he’d come to her instead of weighing his choices for the night.

“Hey,” he said quietly.

His tone wasn’t the overly confident one Lizzie was used to hearing from him these days. If anything, he looked very serious.

“What’s up?”

“I wanted to talk to you for a bit.”

Lizzie raised her eyebrows. “What about?”

Everett dropped his eyes and sighed. “Today. What happened at the soundcheck.”

Lizzie tensed, fully prepared to hear a whole load of excuses or, even worse, allocations of blame towards Charlie and Artemis. She wasn’t in the mood for arguing with him and wanted to tell him so, but he cut her off prematurely.

“I wanted to thank you for getting me back before I could do anything stupid. I didn’t expect anyone to come after me, to be honest. I know I don’t have the best standing in the band at the moment.”

He chuckled, but it was a bitter sound. “It’s no secret that all of you wish I wasn’t part of this anymore.”

Lizzie shook her head. “That’s not true. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“Yes, it is,” Everett shrugged. “No need to sugarcoat, we both know how it is. No one really gives a fuck about me anymore,” he snorted, “For fuck’s sake, most days not even I do.”

It made Lizzie sad, hearing him talk like that.

While he had a point in the relationships between him and the band being complicated these days, they had been friends for years. And it wasn’t like Everett was the only one feeling the strain of being in the spotlight.

“Don’t say that,” Lizzie said softly, “you have a lot on your shoulders, we all do. But you’re front and centre, you’re pretty much getting the thick of it. I always thought you didn’t mind much, though,” she added after a moment.

“Most times I don’t,” Everett said, “but it’s been getting worse ever since we came back from the break. All that shit with the record company wanting us to be their perfect little money making machines. It’s just modern prostiution, if you ask me.”

They had wandered over to one of the sofas with their drinks. Lizzie was astounded at his bitterness; she had never known him to be so cynical. It was something she’d expected from Merula, not from the spotlight-loving extrovert that was Jason Everett.

“Don’t you think that’s a little harsh?” she said. “We’re incredibly privileged after all. We get to do what we love most, and we can share our passion with people who love our music just as much as we do.”

Everett regarded her for a moment and shook his head.

“Jesus bloody Christ, Liz, listen to yourself. You’re beginning to sound just like him.”

Lizzie didn’t need to ask who Everett was referring to; his derogatory tone spoke volumes by itself.

But that was something she wouldn’t let stand, not even today.

“I’m not,” she replied, “but I stand by what I said. Most people can only dream of doing what they love for a living, and a decent one at that. We all knew it would come at a price.”

Everett tilted his head to the side.

“What would you know about that? Don’t get me wrong,” he added hastily as he saw her brow creasing, “we all know you’re the popular one. You’re one fucking ray of sunshine after all,” he snorted with a lopsided grin that made Lizzie chuckle.

“But still, you get to hide behind your drums if you want to opt out. Not me though, I have to serve the masses, all day every day.”

Lizzie hummed in response, thinking about what he had just said. In some ways, she had to admit, Everett had a point.

“Is that why you’re doing all that shit?” she asked quietly. “The drugs, and the girls, and all that? To cope?”

“In some ways,” Everett shrugged. “It’s become a bit of a habit. A decent line and some good, meaningless sex do take the mind off things. But of course you’d know about that, wouldn’t you?” he said with a strange glimmer in his eyes.

Lizzie didn’t like the direction this conversation was taking at all.

Most of their friends seemed to know about her and Orion at this point, so she had expected word to reach Everett sooner or later. But that didn’t mean she was feeling comfortable talking with Everett like that either.

“We all have our ways to wind down,” Lizzie answered evasively.

Her eyes fell on Artemis and Charlie, who were still talking to each other, and jumped at the chance to change the subject.

“I find it hard to believe someone like Artemis would be among the girls running after you. No offence,” she added quickly.

She didn’t want to offend Everett; one hissy fit per day was more than enough.

“She just never struck me as the type.”

“Well, not all that glitters is gold, is it?” Everett remarked wryly. “We should know, we’ve been in this fucking business long enough.”

He motioned at the people gathered in the room, indicating all and no one in particular.

“Just look at all of us. Everyone fighting their own demons, and putting on a show for the world to see.”

He looked at her, and for the first time that evening a genuine smile crossed his features.

“You might just be the only decent person that’s left.”

“I very highly doubt that,” Lizzie laughed; maybe Everett hadn’t figured things out after all.

“I mean it,” he said earnestly. “You’re caring about everyone. You were the only person who gave a shit about me running off today.”

Lizzie shook her head. “That’s not true. Orion offered to go after you first. If anyone is the good one in this God forsaken band, it’s him.”

Everett raised an eyebrow.

“Funny you’d say that,” he said casually.

“Why?”

“Believe me sunshine, Orion is not all that he makes himself out to be. Not letting me sing because I don’t get the songs right? Bullshit. I’ve been getting his songs right for six years now. No, he loves the attention he’s getting, but doesn’t want to admit it. Wouldn’t suit his troubled poet persona.”

“You’re wrong,” Lizzie answered.

She was still annoyed with Orion’s behaviour, but what Everett was suggesting was ridiculous. She knew Orion like the back of her hand, and if he could make his music without the spotlight, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

“His music is all that counts for him. He never cared for all the rest that comes with being famous.”

“Really?” Everett said with a smirk and nodded to where Orion stood with Emily and her posse.

Emily was standing as close to Orion as she could without actually touching him, fluttering her eyelashes everytime he spoke.

“Just look at him,” Everett said quietly, “stealing my thunder and my girl, over and over again.”

His eyes never left Lizzie as he spoke.

“He’s not stealing anything from you, don’t be ridiculous,” Lizzie quipped with much more conviction than she felt. “It’s not like he wants all those things.”

“If he doesn’t want them, then why is he taking them from me? How much of a good person does that make him?”

Lizzie wanted to defend Orion but couldn’t really think of a proper reply.

She refused to believe he would do anything like what Everett suggested; she knew Orion after all, didn’t she?

But the nagging voice at the back of her mind had to admit Everett had a point.

Orion had told her the reasons for refusing to let him sing the new songs, but would that have been really so bad?

They had been playing together for years now, and although Everett would probably never get to a deeper understanding of Orion’s music, surely it was good enough to give a credible performance.

Instead, Orion had chosen to dabble with the well-established dynamics of their group - thrown everything off balance, as he would have put it.

“You see what I mean, don’t you?” Everett said with a gleam to his eyes. “He could be in my place right now, spending the evening with you. But instead he’s content having that fame hungry slapper all over him. What a good one he is.”

Lizzie frowned. “Wasn’t she the girl you took home yesterday?”

“Neither one of us was exactly first choice. She was fun enough for a night or two, though.”

Had she listened to him, Lizzie would have told him to stop speaking in such a derogatory way, but her attention had shifted away from Everett.

Orion had gone to get a new round for himself and his admirers. Lizzie desperately wanted to speak to him, make that voice in her head that was agreeing with Everett shut up for good.

Quickly downing her drink, she stood up from the sofa and pointed at Everett’s half finished glass.

“Do you want me to get you something?”

He leaned back into the sofa with a satisfied smirk.

“No, thanks. I got everything I could possibly want.”

When Lizzie stood next to Orion, he had just ordered white rum with cherry juice for one of his silly girls.

Lizzie fought not to roll her eyes; she had wanted to get herself the exact same drink, but couldn’t think of anything less appealing all of a sudden.

“Having fun?” she asked casually while she had the barkeeper fill her glass up whiskey.

“I would prefer other means of entertainment but as far as it goes, yes, I’m having fun,” Orion said, and his tone was guarded.

He could tell something was off by how much whiskey was already filling Lizzie’s glass; it was almost double the amount she was usually having, and she made no sign to stop the barkeeper either.

“Do you want to tell me what’s bothering you?”

Lizzie snorted. “Oh, now you suddenly care? After not talking to me for the whole day.”

She sipped on her drink and put it back onto the counter a little more forcefully than she had intended, the golden liquid sloshing up the walls of the glass.

Orion raised an eyebrow. “No need to snap at me, drummer girl.”

Hearing his nickname for her vexed Lizzie more than she cared to admit.

“Don’t ‘drummer girl’ me. You’ve been ignoring me the whole day without even telling me why. So why should I tell you now?”

“As you know, I put my focus on the important matters at hand,” Orion said, “and I simply advised you to do the same.”

Lizzie made an indignant sound and she took another sip of her whiskey. The sharp taste burned in her mouth and made her grimace.

“I can tell that you’re focusing on the important matters at hand,” she said coolly.

Her eyes trailed over to the group of girls waiting for Orion to come back. When hers and Emily Tyler’s eyes met, the influencer’s painted lips curved into a smirk.

Orion had followed her gaze, a mix of surprise and understanding forming on his features.

“If I didn’t know you had neither reason nor motivation, I’d say you’re jealous.”

“In your dreams.”

“Then care to tell me why you’re acting so out of your mind?”

Lizzie’s eyes flashed. “I could ask you the same. You’re always going on about how this is not your thing, being the centre of attention and all that shit. But here you are, enjoying the way these brainless bimbos are dancing around you.”

Orion raised his hands defensively.

“Easy now, this is still our fans you’re talking about here. And I’m being friendly to them, that is all.”

“Yes, I can see that,” Lizzie rolled her eyes. “Admirable how much you care about these fans in particular.”

“Liz, you’re being ridiculous,” Orion replied, the hint of a strain stealing into his voice.

Lizzie saw the group of girls watching them, giggling between themselves; she had the sudden urge to go over and pour her glass out over Emily Tyler’s head.

Orion’s voice drew her attention back to him.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” he asked, a bitter ring to his voice. “Lie low, act like nothing ever happened. Well, here we are, then. A perfectly normal conversation between two perfectly normal friends. Although one of them is a little off balance tonight, if I may say so,” he added sardonically. “Come talk to me when you have found your centre again.”

With that, Orion turned his back on her and made his way back to the group of girls waiting for him. Handing out their drinks, he smiled before touching glasses with all of them.

When Lizzie saw him draping his arm around Emily Tyler’s shoulders, she’d had enough of it. Orion wanted to play dirty?

Well, so could she.

She grabbed the bottle of whiskey still standing on the countertop and marched back over to Everett, who had watched the whole scene unfold with a badly concealed smirk.

“That looked like it went well,” he chuckled as Lizzie slumped back onto the sofa next to him.

“Shut up,” she said glumly, refilling her glass before holding the bottle out to him. Everett took it from her with a mischievous glint to his eyes.

They continued in that fashion, passing the bottle between them until it was almost empty. Lizzie’s head was spinning but her anger at Orion hadn’t subsided one bit; on the contrary, with Everett reassuring her that it was Orion who was the one acting like a jerk, Lizzie was madder than ever.

She couldn’t even remember when she had last spent so much time talking to Everett.

It was a shame really; when you got past the boisterous and arrogant first impression, he was fun to talk to. He had a biting sense of humour, and his dry remarks made Lizzie laugh more than once; it was nice to laugh with him for a change.

Lizzie was starting to feel dizzy, and the only thing which wasn’t tilting ever so slightly around her was the glass in her hand. If she kept perfectly still it was alright, but as soon as she moved, she needed a moment to find her balance again.

Lizzie snorted at the thought; fuck that stupid balance talk.

“Hey rockstar, are you alright?”

She raised her head slowly, carefully not to make the room around her spin. She hadn’t even noticed Charlie joining them.

“Charlie,” she called out to him, her West Country accent thicker than usual. “What’s up? You all good, mate?”

He blinked at her in confusion.

“Uhm, yeah, I guess. Thought I’d check on you once in a while.”

He eyed the almost empty bottle of whiskey in Everett’s hand. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough for today?”

Lizzie wrinkled her nose indignantly.

“Don’t tell me what to do. Why do men always have to tell me what to do?”

“I’m not. I just want you to drink a little water once in a while.”

“Leave her alone, Weasley,” Everett chimed in. “If she wants to drink, let her.”

“Exactly,” Lizzie agreed; she noticed her words were slurry and tried very hard to keep them clear. “Everything is alright, don’t you worry about me.”

Charlie looked at her, and then at Everett’s arm, which lay draped half over the back of the sofa, half around Lizzie’s shoulders. It was only now that she noticed how close she was sitting to him.

“You sure about that?”

She made an effort to give Charlie her best reassuring smile.

“I am. I’m a big girl, Charlie. I know what I’m doing.”

“If you say so,” he sighed. “Just take care, will you? If you want me to get you home, just tell me.”

With that, he pressed a bottle of water into her hands and returned to Artemis.

Lizzie noticed he was glancing over every now and again, much to Artemis’ dismay. She was watching them as well, her face guarded and her expression unreadable.

But the young pyro tech wasn’t the only one who had their eyes on them; Lizzie could feel Orion’s gaze on her as strongly as if he was physically touching her.

When she looked in his direction and they locked eyes, he frowned before turning his attention to Emily in his arms again.

Lizzie’s eyes narrowed at the sight; Everett must have seen it, too, because he moved his arm from the sofa around her shoulders fully. Lizzie jumped slightly when he leaned in and whispered into her ear.

“What do you say? Want to make him jealous for real?”

Orion was already looking over to them again; he smiled half-heartedly at something Emily said to him, his hand running through his dark hair as Lizzie caught his gaze. She held his eyes for a moment before turning to Everett with a smile.

“What did you have in mind?”

With a smirk Everett stood up and held his hand out to her, and Lizzie walked closely behind him as he led her to the door. She didn’t have to make sure Orion would see them leaving; Lizzie knew he was watching, she could feel his gaze burning between her shoulder blades.

As Everett opened the door, she shot a last, pointed look over her shoulder at Orion, before stepping into the darkness of the deserted hallway.

[thenexusofsouls]

Flock- what is your muse's family like? How do they get along with them? (Tony)

Eagle- is your muse courageous or cowardly? What might cause them to act in the opposite manner, if anything? (Ethan)

Sparrow- what artistic or creative hobbies does your muse have? What is their favorite or most treasured creation? (Natasha)

Cardinal- how does your muse recover from strong emotions? How do they recouperate? (Michael)

{i am the caretaker of souls} This got long, haha, so I’ll put it under a cut.

Flock- what is your muse's family like? How do they get along with them? (Tony)

So... Tony’s relationships with various members of his family are complicated and not always positive, but the following five people mean the most to him, and with each of them, he’s tried to do the right thing at least at some point in his life. With some it worked better than others, for varying reasons, but I’ll focus on these and describe his relationship with them a little:

Father, Howard Stark: Oh boy. Where do I begin. There was so much wrong with Tony’s relationship with his dad. Both of them were incredibly intelligent and very arrogant, and that caused a huge ego clash between them, but for different reasons. Howard never felt that Tony lived up to his expectations as a son, although half the time he didn’t really give him half a chance or bother to notice when Tony did do something productive, constructive, good, noteworthy, etc. Tony wanted his father’s love, attention, and approval, but often went about it the wrong away, trying to stand out with bad behavior rather than positive achievements. Whenever they met in the middle and could have had a chance at bonding, the two of them were so defensive or closed off that they just couldn’t open up to each other. This never really got resolved, and then Howard was killed, so Tony was left with not only a huge hole in his heart from the love he felt he never really got from Howard, but also an emotional wound that would never have any closure.

Mother, Maria Stark: Tony loved his mother to bits, although when he was younger he often pretended like she worried to much and sometimes smothered him. From Maria, Tony got the love he felt he never got from his dad, but it was almost too easy. She just gave it unconditionally, and in some ways that offset what he wasn’t getting from his dad so much more because of the dramatic contrast in how his parents treated him. She was the softer, forgiving, understanding, encouraging parents in contrast to Howard’s aloof, distant, businesslike fathering. She was the one person in his life that he felt safe going to in any kind of vulnerable way, and losing her left Tony feeling very alone and isolated in a way he couldn’t express to other people... so he bottled it all up.

Girlfriend/Wife, Pepper Potts: Ugh. This relationship, in my opinion, was terrible and toxic. He was distant, defensive, and he abused alcohol to an extreme. Also he put her in danger either by accident or inadvertently with things he said or did. His communication was never the greatest and his coping mechanisms were unhealthy at best. She shamed Tony for his trauma responses as if they were personality flaws he should be ashamed of (scattered memory, nightmares, panic attacks, etc.), used walking out on him as a threat and emotional weapon against him whenever she just didn’t feel like dealing with him, and often was not there for him when he needed her. But... Tony genuinely loved her and something must have been good enough for both of them for them to want to make it work, and somehow, eventually, it did. I think once Tony knew he wasn’t going to lose her (the threat of her always just wanting to leave really kept him on edge in a way that was damaging to his mental health), he calmed down and some of his behaviors and coping mechanisms actually got better, which then in turn made Pepper want to stay with him and work it out, so those two things fed off each other in a positive way. Her actually marrying him brought about an emotional stability Tony never had before, both within himself and in a relationship. He settled down considerably after that and was much more stable mentally once he had her full support. He loves her with all his heart and there isn’t much he wouldn’t do for her.

Older Daughter, Carter Stark: This is going to sound terrible, haha, so I’ll preface it by saying that Tony loves Carter immensely. She’s his daughter and all he wants to do is keep her safe and make sure she has the best life she can. But... in many ways, she’s also a symbol of some of the worst times in his life, some of the worst things about himself, and some of the worst things he’s ever done. He slept around, he let people down, he got people killed, he wasn’t there for the ones he loved, etc. She reminds him of a lot of things about himself that he wishes weren’t true or didn’t happen. Her existence has also made him wonder on many occasions whether he might have other children whose mothers never knew he was the father or chose not to even inform him. He loves her, as I said, but there’s also just this aching pain and guilt he feels with her that he didn’t do enough for her, didn’t protect her well, or even that her life might have been better had she not known him. Some of that is his own anxiety telling him things that aren’t true, but some of it is due to events that happened that he knows have affected Carter’s mental health that Tony feels responsible for, either through his own actions or by the company he kept at the time. So Carter reminds Tony of the worst, lowest, and most broken aspects of himself, and I think that will always cause him to believe that he was a terrible father to her. He’s spent many hours wishing that he had done more for her in some way and had been able to be a better father than Howard was to him.

Younger Daughter, Morgan Stark: If Carter is a symbol of how bad a father he could be and some of Tony’s worst qualities, the Morgan is a symbol of the best he could be. Morgan in many ways is Tony’s redemption. Other people outside looking in might say his actions during Endgame were redeeming, or that he had moments before that throughout the franchise that helped redeem parts of him along the way, but in Tony’s mind, Morgan is his redemption. She’s what happens when he does things right. Carter helped contribute to this because he didn’t want to make the same mistakes he made with her, and he sought to correct as many as he could. His own father also contributed because Tony had a big example of the kind of father he never wanted to be, and he tried to avoid that at all costs. Stepping back from the Avengers and focusing on his marriage and being a father to his daughters was far better for his mental health, even with the guilt and sadness of everyone’s failure in Infinity War. So the years during which he raised Morgan were Tony’s most stable and healthy as far as his own mental state. If he was ever concerned about the legacy he would leave - and he was - he knew he was leaving something pure and positive behind after his death, whenever it might be, with Morgan.

Eagle- is your muse courageous or cowardly? What might cause them to act in the opposite manner, if anything? (Ethan)

Ethan is actually pretty damn brave, considering he’s lived a number of years in fear. Before he entered into this nomadic lifestyle in an attempt to keep other people at a distance, he was protective of his friends and girlfriends. As he and his more recent girlfriend Kelly dealt with the creature infesting their house, there were many times when he was woken up in the middle of the night by her or suddenly startled by her screaming and had to get up and see what the problem was. He would always go on the offensive, investigating with something held as a weapon, letting Kelly hide behind him. He was scared, but he wasn’t about to let her get hurt. The problem was, there wasn’t really anything he could do about it in the end.

When Ethan is by himself, it’s a different story. He’s willing to be that shield or put himself in danger to protect someone he cares about, but if it’s just him alone, he’s not stupid. He’s not looking to throw his life away for nothing. So when he’s alone, he’s a lot more attention to his self-preservation instincts.

Sparrow- what artistic or creative hobbies does your muse have? What is their favorite or most treasured creation? (Natasha)

Dancing. Specifically ballet dancing. Allow me to explain. You might think that she’d never want to touch pointe shoes again with how ballet was used against her in the Red Room. It was used as a conditioning tool, both for its strenuous and physical demands and difficult skillset necessary to master it, but also for other typical brainwashing techniques it provides, such as the use of repetition, association through music, and creating a sense of isolation through competition with others around you. However, something weird happened after Natasha defected to SHIELD. She started to dance for herself. She only did it when alone, sometimes with music but often times without any. Somehow, she took this thing that had been used against her and made it her own. It became a source of comfort, almost like the dancing itself had been a wounded friend, and somehow by only doing it privately and emotionally, she was helping it to be something more positive every bit as much as it was helping her heal.

While dancing, Natasha lets her mind wander. She allows herself to feel things she doesn’t express to others. At several points in her life when things hurt her emotionally, she took time out to dance. Such as when Wanda dredged up memories of the Red Room in her mind, when Bruce left her, and often during the years between Infinity War and Endgame. As far as hat her most treasured creation is... I suppose it isn’t something solid she can hold in her hands, but every time she dances, she feels like she’s created something good. And I would definitely say it’s treasured because it’s cathartic for her and helps her to feel whole and less anxious, and there's incredible value in that for her.

Cardinal- how does your muse recover from strong emotions? How do they recouperate? (Michael)

Since the word “recover” is being used, I’m assuming the strong emotions in question are negative ones? Anger, sadness, frustration, fear, those sorts of things? Typically, he needs to take a step back and be quiet and/or alone for a time to reset himself. Michael does have a temper, and he does feel emotions like sadness and grief very strongly, so sometimes he needs to step back and make sure that he doesn’t make any rash decisions based off of emotion. Quiet prayer usually helps, but if not that then just sitting quietly alone for a time, preferably out in nature somewhere, usually serves to reset his internal composure and steady his mind. Michael doesn’t like to act impulsively or in anger, so if he feels himself about to do that, he usually steps away. The one exception is when someone he cares about is in danger, then he might act on his protective instincts. Regret follows, but again, he finds prayer to be comforting to him in those types of moments.

[agreatperhaps12]

There are a lot of misconceptions about Warren Peace. Five times Layla Williams saw through the bullshit, and one time Warren returned the favor.

happy holidays, @katiewont :) 

Misconception No. 1: Warren Peace loves a good fight.

Warren Peace does not go looking for fights. Fights find him.

See: Stronghold chucking a lunch tray at him the first week of class. Dumb and Dumber challenging them to Save the Citizen. Stronghold’s date going full supervillain at homecoming and nearly dropping a school-size anvil on an unsuspecting suburb.

That’s just the highlight reel for September.

When another villain interrupts Warren’s History of Heroism midterm with another school invasion, Warren’s first thought is: Could everyone around here chill for five fucking seconds.

No. Literally, not ever. See: three weeks later, when Warren is standing in line for lunch with the entourage of freshmen he’s long since given up trying to shake off. It has not even been five minutes since Warren and Stronghold defeated their latest challenger at Save the Citizen, and Zach is already doing a clumsy live-action replay.

To Stronghold, “Did you see his face when you were like?” Zach swings his arm with the spectacular confidence of someone not standing in a very crowded cafeteria. To Warren, “And then you were like—” Zach mimes shooting fireballs from his fists, complete with sound effects. “Totally brutal. You looked scary, bro.”

“He always looks scary,” Ethan says, smiling at Warren like that’s a compliment.

Warren glares down at his tray. He and Stronghold have been defending champions of Save the Citizen for over two months, Hero Team every time. He doesn’t get how people are still managing to make him feel like the bad guy about it.

“How was play-pretend battle?”

Layla has emerged from the crowd to stand beside Warren, with a smirk that makes a stupid something flutter behind his sternum. Layla stopped coming to their Save the Citizen matches after their dozenth victory, because “violence should be the last resort in any hostage situation” and “Save the Citizen completely undermines a valuable opportunity for Sky High students to learn strategic negotiation skills.” Warren doesn’t know what she does with the free period. 

Take me with you, he thinks.

“The match was epic,” Zach says. “Will got to throw a car.”

A bashful smile overtakes Stronghold’s dumb, Labrador face.

“And Warren almost barbequed Evans,” Ethan says.

Jesus, could they shut up about it already.

“Really,” Layla says, eyes on Warren while he pays for his food.

“Yeah,” Warren says, in a deadpan to rival Magenta. “It was epic.”

Layla frowns, but instead of launching into the pacifist manifesto that Warren is expecting, she holds up her bagged lunch says, “Want to eat outside?”

Before Warren can answer, Stronghold says, “Outside?” like he’s never heard of such a place. “It’s freezing out there.”

“It’s almost forty degrees,” Layla says, “and I had to come in early to finish a project, so it’s been over—” She checks the clock. “—five hours since I’ve felt roots under my feet. I’m eating outside.”

“Okay, but like.” Stronghold glances at Warren. “Do… you want me to come?”

“No, you’ll just be a baby about it,” Layla says gently. “Warren doesn’t get cold, do you?”

She looks to Warren for confirmation of a fact that Warren is one hundred percent sure he’s never told her. He shrugs to hide his wrong-footedness.

“Great.” Layla claps a hand on Stronghold’s shoulder and uses it to steer him toward the others, who are already sitting at what used to be Warren’s personal lunch table, once upon a time. She shrugs on her jacket, flips her hair out, and looks to Warren. “Shall we?”

Warren follows her outside warily. Sitting down across from her at the picnic table closest to the edge of school grounds, he says, “So, what is this, exactly?”

Layla pauses in uncurling her lunch bag. “What do you mean?”

Warren shrugs. “We don’t really hang out. Alone.”

They did, a little. Back when Layla was using Warren to make Stronghold jealous. But that pretty much ended with the homecoming debacle—after which Layla and Stronghold spent a few weeks trying to get their romantic relationship off the ground, decided they worked better as friends, and went back to normal.

“What are you talking about?” Layla says. “We hang out at the Paper Lantern all the time.”

It’s true that Layla eats at Warren’s workplace a few nights a week, when her mom is too busy with day-saving to make family dinners at home. But Layla is always doing homework, and Warren is always doing Work work, so, “I don’t think that counts.”

“It does,” Layla says confidently. It’s the kind of confidence that only Layla can pull off, because rather than coming across as arrogant, she gives the air of a mysterious woodland nymph, whose secret knowledge mere mortals wouldn’t understand.

“Okay,” Warren says, because he has precious little personal experience to back up any assertions about how friendship is supposed to work. “But this isn’t the Lantern.”

Layla raises an eyebrow. “Do you want to go back inside?”

“No,” Warren says. He doesn’t want Layla to leave, either. There’s a sureness about her that Warren finds comforting. She’s never been afraid of him—probably because she could kick his ass. Warren likes that about her. But he also likes to know where he stands with people.

By way of explanation, Layla says, “Did you know that when you get stressed out, literal steam comes out of your ears?”

“What?”

“Mm-hmm.” Layla pulls an apple out of her lunch bag. “A little. It’s easier to see when your hair is pulled back.”

Warren brings a self-conscious hand to the rubber band he used to tie his hair up during Mad Science Lab.

“It happens a lot when Zach is doing his Save the Citizen play-by-plays,” Layla observes. “Thought I might spare you an entire lunch of that.”

“Oh.” Warren’s hand drops into his lap, blind-sided by the unexpected kindness. “Thanks.”

“Any time.” Layla maintains eye contact while taking a bit of apple. Warren shifts in his seat and drops his eyes to his pizza. “You could tell Coach Boomer to assign Will a different partner,” she says after a moment. “Save the Citizen isn’t mandatory.”

Yeah, except it kind of is. No one’s ever voluntarily stepped back from a winning streak like Warren and Stronghold’s. Benching himself would never be worth all the extra side-eye in the halls. Not to mention the explanation he’d have to give Boomer. What kind of superhero-in-training refuses to fight?

Except for the one Warren is currently sitting across from, of course. Who’s looking at Warren with such doe-eyed earnestness that it almost squeezes a “Yeah, maybe” out of him. But Layla is a difficult person to lie to, so he says, “I thought we weren’t going to talk about Save the Citizen.”

Layla sits up a little straighter. “Right,” she says. “Consider it forgotten.”

“Thanks.”

Not that Warren doesn’t trust Layla, but she is the kind of person to press points she thinks are important. Before her mind can cycle back to Save the Citizen from some other angle, Warren says, “Sorry I dragged you outside in the middle of November.”

Layla tilts her head to the side. “You didn’t drag me. I dragged you.”

“Yeah, but for me,” Warren says, and there’s that stupid fluttering feeling again.

“And for me,” Layla says. “I wasn’t lying about needing to get out for a bit. Being inside all day, with the linoleum and cinderblock.” She wrinkles her nose. “It’s creepy quiet, when you’re used to feeling everything alive around you.”

He’s never actually thought about it, before. How Layla has her finger on the pulse of something so vast and intricate, even when she’s not bending it to her will.

“Even in November?” Warren says. “Isn’t everything, like… dead?”

Layla laughs. “No. Just taking a long nap.”

“Huh.” Warren looks around the grey-brown landscape of the schoolyard, with its bare branches and faded grass, with new eyes. It’s a nice idea, that all these lifeless-looking things are just waiting to wake up.

Misconception No. 2: Warren Peace doesn’t give a damn about his bad reputation.

Anyone who dyes a single streak of hair, wears fingerless gloves, and walks around like he’s got nothing to prove has something big to prove.

For Warren Peace, that is: I do not give a fuck about my family legacy.

Before starting high school, Warren figured a couple kids might recognize him, by name or by strong family resemblance. But Warren’s dad had already been locked up for a long time. It wasn’t like he made the news anymore. Worse came to worst, Warren thought he might have to field a few awkward questions about it.

Homeschooling did not prepare Warren for how big a household name Barron Battle was.

The first week of school was all open seats around Warren in class and at lunch, cold and curious looks over shoulders on the bus, “Check it out, that’s Barron Battle’s devil spawn” and “I can’t believe they even let supervillain kids in.”

It was treat or be treated like dirt, and Warren chose the former.

Fast-forward to junior year, and Sky High students know Warren Peace for the asshole he is, rather than the asshole his father was. Warren is comfortably back to pretending like his dad doesn’t exist. It mostly works.

Except during a History of Heroism unit on the most notorious villains of the twentieth century, when Warren’s class is staring at a PowerPoint slide that depicts the leveled Brooklyn neighborhood where Barron Battle and the Commander had their final showdown.

Warren ignores his classmates’ not-so-covert glances as Mr. Magnificent rattles of statistics like ‘seven dead and dozens injured’ and ‘nearly one billion dollars in damages.’ Magnificent has to pause his lecture to silence the white noise of whispers that has swelled up, and Warren wants to sink through the floor.

It’s like the first week of freshman year all over again. Warren is projecting I don’t care vibes so hard, there’s a good chance he’ll spontaneously combust.

What feels like an eon later, the classroom lights come up. Warren shoves everything into his backpack and heads for the door before anyone can try to talk to him. As usual, Layla is out of Hero Support early and waiting in the hall to meet Warren for lunch. Her patent sun-bright smile slips as Warren escapes the classroom.

“Whoa, where’s the fire?” she says.

“What?” Warren stops up short. “Nowhere. There’s no fire.”

“I was kidding,” Layla says, and winces at herself. “Poor choice of words. Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Warren rakes his fingers through his hair. “I can’t come to lunch today. I have to—work on something.”

Normally, when Warren is feeling like shit, there’s nothing he’d rather do than sit with Layla in their little oasis of calm at the schoolyard picnic table. But right now, Warren needs at least thirty minutes to pace around the empty auto shop classroom, literally and figuratively cooling off, before he subjects himself to more human company.

“Okay,” Layla says, hugging her notebook to her chest and looking at him critically. “Are you—”

“Yeah. It’s—whatever. I’ll see you later.” Warren shoulders his way through the crowded hall toward the shop room, head down.

Smooth, he thinks at himself. Very smooth.

Shut up.

Warren assumes the first chance he’ll have to apologize to Layla is the next day at lunch. But when Warren shows up for his shift at the Paper Lantern at five, Layla is already sitting at her usual table. Weird, because Layla usually doesn’t come to the Lantern on Thursdays. Weirder, because when she does come, she typically arrives sometime after eight, when the dinner rush has mostly cleared out.

“What can I get you?” Warren says, drawing his pencil out from behind his ear as he approaches Layla’s table. They do try to maintain some appearances of an employee-customer relationship, to appease Mrs. Zhou.

“Hmm.” Layla examines the menu. “I’d like one kung pao tofu, one green tea, and—” She looks up at him. “—for you to explain why you fled your History of Heroism class today.”

“I didn’t flee,” Warren says. “I stormed out.”

“All right,” Layla agrees easily. “Why did you storm out of History of Heroism?”

Warren crosses his arms. “None of your business.”

“Okay.” Layla holds out her menu.

Warren blinks. “What?”

“You’re right, it’s not my business,” she says. “I just thought you might want to talk about whatever it was.”

“I don’t.”

“Okay.”

Warren squints. “Okay…”

“Okay,” Layla says again, and flaps the menu in her hand.

Warren takes it slowly, waiting for the catch. But Layla just pulls a binder and notebook out of her backpack. “Honey with the tea, please,” she says, and clicks open a pen.

“I know,” Warren says, and leaves Layla to her homework. He spends most of the next half-hour trying to untangle why he feels disappointed rather than relieved.

The thing is, Warren sometimes gets a “What was that about?” or “Dude, what the hell happened back there?” from classmates after he goes nuclear. Like after his cafeteria fight with Stronghold in September. Those questions always feel voyeuristic. Prickly and probing.

With Layla, though, the question feels less invasive and more inviting. For the first time, Warren wants to explain himself. He wants Layla to understand. He doesn’t want her to see him as some moody, unapproachable asshole. But he also doesn’t know how to approach her, or the subject, now that he’s already shut it down.

He’s been talking himself in and out of going back over to Layla’s table for ten minutes when Mrs. Zhou sidles up to the pass-through window where Warren is brooding.

“If you’re going to stand around making eyes at your girlfriend, take your fifteen and go over before the dinner crowd arrives,” she says.

Warren’s face heats, and he looks around to see whether anyone is in earshot, even though he’s pretty sure none of Mrs. Zhou’s whitebread suburban customers understand Mandarin. “She’s not my—never mind.”

Deciding he’d rather be having any other conversation besides this one with Mrs. Zhou, Warren forces himself to walk over to Layla’s table and sit down.

“We learned about the Barron in class today,” he says, abandoning any attempt at preamble, “for a lesson on notable supervillain takedowns.”

If Layla is surprised by Warren’s sudden attempt at conversation, she doesn’t show it. She hooks her pen through the spiral of her notebook, closes it, and waits for him to continue.

“Magnificent was showing pictures from the last time Dad and the Commander fought in New York,” Warren says, “and people were looking at me like I was involved somehow, even though all that shit went down when I was still in diapers, and those people have been in my classes for three years, like—I know, we all know Barron Battle is my dad, why can’t everyone fucking get over it already—”

Layla lays a hand on his forearm, cutting Warren off and drawing his attention to the fact that his clenched fist is smouldering like a hot coal. “Shit. Sorry.” Warren shakes out his hand, and Layla pulls back. He wishes she wouldn’t.

Layla waits for the red glow of Warren’s knuckles to dim and then says, “Mr. Magnificent is an idiot. It was totally inappropriate to include your dad in a presentation, especially without asking you first.”

Warren shrugs. “A lot of people’s parents end up in his presentations,” he says. “They’re just usually on the right side.”

“He still should have asked you,” Layla says. “Also, you helped save the entire school in September. If people still think you’re anything like your dad after that, they’re idiots and you shouldn’t care what they think.”

Warren wants to say “I don’t.” What comes out is, “This is high school. Everyone cares what everyone thinks.”

“I don’t,” Layla says.

Warren wants to contradict her, but from what he can tell, Layla genuinely doesn’t. “You have to care a little,” he says.

Layla raises her eyebrows like oh, yeah? and points to her characteristically Whoville-style twist of braids and glittery clips. “You think these hairdos made me a lot of friends in middle school?”

“I didn’t go to middle school.”

“Well, they didn’t,” Layla says.

“Then why do you wear your hair like that?”

“Because I like it.” Layla twirls a stray piece of hair around her forefinger. “And I don’t need to be one of the pretty girls to feel good about myself.”

“You are pretty,” Warren blurts, and immediately has to suppress the urge to set himself on fire.

Layla’s eyes go wide. The last time Warren saw her blush this deep, he’d just called her out for crushing on Stronghold. But instead of straight-up embarrassed, this time Layla’s blush is weirdly, shyly pleased. “You think so?” Her chin is tilted down so that she’s looking up at him through her eyelashes, which is not fair.

“Me?” Warren points at himself, like an idiot. “I don’t—I mean, I do, but it’s not just—you are pretty. People know that. It’s an objective fact.”

“Really.” Layla’s cheeks are still pink, but her smile has a playful slant now.

“Yeah,” Warren says, more defensively than he intends. Christ, he was so much better at this when they were fake-dating, when none of Warren’s smirks or swagger could mean anything. Now, without the protection of pretense, everything feels altogether too personal. Warren is not good at personal.

“Thank you,” Layla says, and bites her lip in hesitation before tacking on, “you’re pretty, too.”

Whatever that comment is—reflex, or politeness, or something else—it is officially too much. “I have to get back to work,” Warren says, overloud in the quiet restaurant, and bangs his knee on the underside of the table in his haste to stand up.

“Okay,” Layla says, trying to hide a smile behind her hand. Before he can turn away, she adds, “Warren,” and points to either side of her head.

Warren stares at her blankly for a second before he catches her drift, yanks his hair down from his ponytail to hide his surely steaming ears, and practically runs back to the kitchen.

Misconception No. 3: Warren Peace thinks he’s got the best power.

“I feel like I should warn you,” Layla says as she turns the key in her front lock, “my house is kind of crowded.”

Warren frowns. “I thought you were an only child.”

“No siblings,” Layla says. “A lot of roommates. You’ll see.”

What Warren sees is a menagerie that would do Ace Ventura proud.

“Watch out for the—everything,” Layla says, leading him through a flock of peacocks, a few dogs and several cats that slink by too quickly to count.

“Why… is this?” is the only semi-coherent question that Warren can formulate as he shoos a parrot from his shoulder and shakes his pant leg free of a fox’s jaws.

“You’re not the only one who has to live with your parent’s superpower,” Layla says.

Layla’s mom, apparently, is a zoolinguist. The only place in the entire house not overrun by furry or feathered residents is Layla’s room.

“Wow,” Warren says as he crosses the threshold.

Layla’s bedroom is situated on the back corner of the house, and the two external walls and ceiling are all paneled glass. Presumably to usher in maximum sunlight for the greenery that crowds almost every inch of space besides Layla’s bed and desk. Warren has to shed his winter coat immediately to avoid overheating in the humidity.

“Yeah,” Layla says. “Sometimes I forget how weird it is. Will’s the only friend I’ve ever had up here.”

Layla is the only friend Warren has ever had in his room—which she immediately declared “entirely predictable,” on account of the punk rock posters plastered across his walls. Layla’s room is way more predictable, if you ask Warren. Or at least, Warren would have predicted this, if he’d known literal greenhouse was a legitimate option.

“It’s nice,” he says. “Peaceful.”

“Isn’t it?” Layla takes Warren’s coat and hangs it on a hook behind the leaves of an elephant ear plant. “Mom had the place renovated before we moved in. I think she figured, if she was going to let every animal in the neighborhood have the run of our house, it wasn’t fair to exile my plants to the backyard.”

“Do they all live here all the time?” Warren says, pointing at the floor to indicate the veritable petting zoo downstairs.

“Some of them,” Layla says. “Mom is good at finding homes for most. I think donations from her fans are single-handedly keeping every shelter in the city afloat.”

It’s rude to ask about superheroes’ secret identities, but context clues give Warren a pretty good idea who Ms. Williams might be. Charismatic Megafauna is basically a one-woman PETA operation, liberating animals from factory farms and delivering them to free-range pastures as often as she commands her elite squadron of apex predators to take down baddies. She’s a more controversial figure than the Commander and Jetstream, but she does have an extremely dedicated cult following.  

“Her power sounds amazing,” Warren says.

“Most of the time,” Layla says. She collects a watering can from beside her bed and begins to fill it with a knee-high spigot beside the door. “But there’s a lot of animal suffering in the world. It can get exhausting for her to be tapped into it all the time, you know?”

Warren pauses to consider. “Yeah, I guess that would be overwhelming.”

Layla turns off the tap and carries her watering can to the closest table laden with potted plants. “Everyone’s superpower looks spectacular on the news,” she says, with a very un-Layla-like smile. “No one’s around to see it when your power makes you so sad you can’t get out of bed.”

“Except you,” Warren guesses.

Layla drops her not-really-smile. “Except me.”

Warren shuffles along the row of plants beside Layla while she waters them. He waits until she finishes refilling the can and starts a new row before asking, “Does that ever happen to you? Your powers getting you down.”

Layla studiously waters a flower with orange starburst petals. “Plants have more…auras and vibes than thoughts and feelings,” she says, and tickles the flower under one leaf. The plant visibly perks up under her ministrations, and Layla smiles. For real, this time. “Their pain doesn’t feel as sharp to me as animals’ pain does to my mom.”

“But,” Warren prompts.

“But sometimes, yeah,” Layla says, and moves on to the next plant.

Warren casts around for something comforting to say, but comes up with nothing better than, “That sucks.”

“Yeah,” Layla says, “but it’s the exception to the rule. Most of the time, I wouldn’t give up feeling this—” She rubs her fingertips over a browning leaf to paint it green. “—for anything.”

Warren shouldn’t be jealous of Layla’s powers. Especially after she’s just admitted what a burden they can be. But Layla has also just confirmed what Warren has long suspected: Superabilities, even the ostensibly powerful ones, are not created equal. Warren’s pyrokinesis is, fundamentally, a weapon. A blunt tool to wield when the situation calls for violence. Layla’s power, on the other hand, seems more like a sixth sense. A trapdoor to another plane of reality.

How much of Layla Williams’s worldview draws on the alien insight of plants that no other human being, least of all Warren Peace, could ever possibly understand?

Layla interrupts Warren’s inferiority spiral with, “I’ve never talked about this with anyone but my mom.”

Warren watches Layla coax a stem into standing up straighter. “Not even Stronghold?”

He should not take as much pleasure as he does in Layla’s dismissive laugh. “Especially not Will.”

“Why not?”

“For a long time, he didn’t have any powers, and he was so jealous of mine, it seemed mean to complain about them to Will.”

“And now?”

“Now, he’s in the honeymoon phase with his new powers,” Layla says, “and it seems mean to bring him down.”

Not even Warren believes Stronghold can be that fragile. “I’m sure he’d get over it.”

“Maybe, but, you know. The things we do for our best friends,” Layla says, with a what can you do shrug, and returns to the faucet for another refill.

“So, why tell me?”

Layla chews the inside of her cheek. “I guess because you already have a complex about your own powers the size of Texas, thanks to your dad.”

“What?” Warren balks. “I do not.”

Layla squints. “Don’t you, though?”

“No. I—shut up.” Warren looks away, feeling hot all over.

Layla bends down to turn off the tap. A moment later, her hand on Warren’s shoulder startles him into looking back at her. Her big, brown eyes are wide with sympathy. “I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not upset,” Warren snaps.

“Okay.” Typical Layla, letting him feel whatever he’s going to feel and say whatever he’s going to say and refuse to throw hands about it.

Warren’s spark of anger sputters and dies. He huffs out an exhale. “It’s not only about my dad,” he admits, quietly, mostly to the floor.

Layla’s hand remains on his shoulder while she waits for an elaboration. Warren very carefully does not acknowledge it in any way, for fear it might stop.

“Fire is...useful,” he says. “But it can only destroy things. I can’t create. Not like…” He waves a hand around Layla’s room. “All I’m good for is fighting, and sometimes I wish—” Warren shoves a hand through his hair. “I dunno. It’s stupid.”

Layla’s hand squeezes his shoulder. “First of all, you are not your power,” she says. “No matter what Boomer or anyone else says. Second, fire is creative. It creates light and warmth.”

“If I’m ever transported back in time to an era before electricity, I’m sure that’ll be extremely handy,” Warren says, aiming for wry and not quite making it, because the tickly feeling that flitters to life in his chest whenever Layla says nice things about him is going wild.

Layla rolls her eyes. “Third of all, you do not need a superpower to create and nurture things.” Before Warren can stop her, Layla has pushed her watering can into his hand.

“What?” he says. “I don’t know anything about plants. I’d probably kill them all.” He holds the watering can out to Layla, who does not take it.

“Don’t act like you don’t have a book of Keats in your backpack right now,” she says. “If you know ‘To Autumn,’ you already know the most important things about plants. Everything else is technicalities.”

Warren gives her a doubtful look.

Layla sighs. “Trust me. Which you should, because I know literally everything about plants, and I’m a very good teacher, and I would not let you hurt any of my babies. Okay?”

Layla holds out her hand, and Warren has to channel all his concentration into keeping his cool enough that he doesn’t burn her when he takes it in his own. Layla grins, and Warren feels a little light-headed with the thrill of it.

“Come on,” she says, and pulls him toward the row of potted flowers where they left off. Warren follows, as helpless as any of the flora around them to resist the benevolent force of nature that is Layla Williams.

Misconception No. 4: Warren Peace doesn’t get scared.

This illusion is at least partly on purpose. Part of the do not fuck with me ethos Warren has been cultivating for the better part of three years.

In reality, plenty of things scare Warren. Like the idea that everyone is right about him after all, and he’ll end up on the Superheroes Guild’s Most Wanted List someday. Or that deep down, a kernel of grudge in his mother resents Warren for taking so closely after his father. But those are more midnight-existential-crisis concerns than acute fears.

Warren gets scared during battles, too. But the initial kick of adrenaline always seems to knock his consciousness clear of his body, such that he spends most of the fight controlling the firestorm of his fists from somewhere above the action. He usually doesn’t realize how freaked out he is until after the fact, when his brain plugs back into his body and he thinks, huh, my hands won’t stop shaking.

It’s rare that Warren feels, in real time, the bass-drum beat of his heart and a cold sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. But that’s exactly what happens every time he gets close to asking Layla out on a date.

He’s come close so many times. He’s had the tickets in his jacket pocket for weeks. But the prospect of actually asking Layla invites the prospect of Layla saying no, and Warren—can’t.

Sometimes, he can almost convince himself that she would say yes, despite the fact that Layla is kind, beautiful, mystical Layla, and Warren is social-pariah, problem-child Warren. Like last Tuesday, when Layla said “you’re such a disaster” with such heart-stopping fondness, while she pulled a rubber band from Warren’s hair to replace it with one of her own, more comfortable fabric hair ties. Or last Friday, while they were watching a movie at Layla’s place, and she tucked her socked toes under Warren’s thigh on the couch. Or yesterday, when she held her hands out over the picnic table for Warren to warm her pink fingertips between his palms.

And always, in the back of Warren’s mind: “You’re pretty, too.”

But whenever Warren opens his mouth to ask, his tongue goes dry and his palms go damp. It’s such a stupid thing to be afraid of, it makes Warren want to close his head in a locker. Worst case scenario, Layla turns him down. They’d still be friends. She wouldn’t be cruel. She’s Layla. But Warren isn’t used to having so much of himself caught up in another person. The idea that Layla isn’t equally caught up in him provokes a strangled, withering feeling in the pit of Warren’s stomach that he can only imagine would intensify tenfold after the actual rejection.

So, Warren’s been procrastinating.

But time is running out.

It does not help that Stronghold’s flock of freshmen is currently obsessing over Winter Formal like a bunch of… well, freshmen.

“You guys asking anyone?” Zach says at lunch, one day when freezing rain is lashing Sky High too hard for even Layla to sit outside. Zach hooks an arm over Magenta’s shoulder, as if to underline the fact that she’s already spoken for. Magenta rolls her eyes but doesn’t shrug him off.

“I would ask Larry,” Ethan says, pushing steamed vegetables around on his plate with his fork. “If I could stop going full-puddle every time he looks at me.”

Layla and Magenta make sympathetic noises.

“I think I’m gonna ask Abby,” Stronghold says, eyes cast over at a table where Warren assumes this Abby must sit. He hasn’t bothered to keep up with Stronghold’s latest romantic fixation. They’re already two—three?—full crush cycles past Layla. Warren can’t believe he ever felt threatened by a kid with the attention span of a housefly.

“She’d totally say yes,” Magenta says. “I overheard her about how hot you are during the Shapeshifting Students Association meeting.”

“Really?” Will says, at the same time Layla goes, “Magenta!”

“What?”

“Gossip.”

“Okay, Mother Williams,” Magenta says. To Will, “We’ll talk later.”

Layla looks intent on pressing the matter, but Ethan says, “Do you have a date, Layla?”

Everyone turns to Layla, except for Stronghold, whose eyes inexplicably flick over to Warren—who glares him into dropping eye contact.

“No,” Layla says, unconcerned.  

“Not yet,” Zach says. “Just a question of who asks first.”

Warren’s heart stutters, and he swallows back a “What?”

Luckily, Stronghold has less restraint. “What?” he says, like he wasn’t ogling another girl 0.2 seconds ago.

Zach looks at Stronghold like, Are you kidding? “Layla’s hot,” he says slowly. Magenta nods in agreement. “Chen, Robinson, and Feinstein are all thinking about asking.”

“And those are just the ones we’ve heard about,” Magenta says.

“Where are you guys getting this intel?” Ethan says. “We’re your only friends.”

“You can hear a lot from the inside of a locker,” Zach says.

“Or from the vents,” Magenta adds.

“Who’s still shoving you in a locker?” Layla says, frowning at Zach.

“Don’t deflect,” Magenta says. “Who are you going to take?”

“I don’t know,” Layla says, very pink and very determinedly acting like she’s not. “I didn’t know I had options until right now.”

Warren didn’t know he had competition until right now. In his defense, he deliberately pays as little attention as possible to rest of the Sky High student body, except for the five freshmen who invaded his space last fall and refused to leave. But of course other guys want to ask Layla.

Fuck.

“What about you, Bucky Barnes?” Zach says, throwing Warren an upward nod. “Got your eye on any hot junior goths we don’t know about?”

Warren scowls. “No.”

“Warren’s too cool for school dances,” Magenta says.

Stronghold frowns. “He took Layla to homecoming.”

“Only to make you jealous,” Layla is quick to correct.

Warren’s eyes snap over to her, but Layla isn’t looking at him. Just stabbing at her salad with her fork and letting her hair partially obscure her still pink cheeks.

An uncomfortable, sour feeling settles in Warren’s stomach. He makes himself look back at Zach. “I don’t do school dances. I have a thing anyway.”

“What thing?” Magenta says.

“A thing,” Warren says, with enough finality that even Zach knows better than to push it.

That is, until Stronghold corners Warren at his locker after final period to ask, “What thing do you have to do instead of Winter Formal?”

Warren continues loading books into his backpack. “A thing.”

Stronghold, in a bid for Warren’s full attention, shuts his locker door. As soon as Warren turns a glare on him, the kid goes bug-eyed.

“I am so sorry!” he says, reaching out to open the locker, only to remember that, duh, it’s Warren’s and he can’t. “I don’t know why I did that.”

“You’re an idiot.”

Warren must be spending too much time with Layla, because instead of picking Stronghold up by his shirt collar, he merely swats Stronghold’s hand away and unlocks his locker.

“It was only—I know someone who was hoping you’d ask them to Winter Formal,” Stronghold says, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Warren fixes Stronghold with a flat expression. “You’re not my type.”

For an aspiring superhero, Stronghold flusters extremely easily. “Wh—not me!” he says, and then leans in and lowers his voice. “You know.”

Warren, who is not in the business of getting his hopes up—no matter how many summersaults his stomach is doing—raises his eyebrows.

“Layla,” Stronghold murmurs, so low that Warren has to read his lips.

Summersaults, cartwheels, handsprings. Warren’s stomach is performing a full-on gymnastics routine. “Did she tell you that?”

“No,” Stronghold admits, and Warren’s stomach immediately flops. “But I am something of an expert on Layla Williams.”

Warren, who has an entire September’s worth of evidence to the contrary, makes a psh noise.

Stronghold squares his shoulders and ticks off on his fingers: “She hangs out at the Lantern all the time. She eats lunch with you, alone, every other day. The way she talks about you—”

“She talks about me?”

“Dude.” Stronghold lays a hand on Warren’s shoulder, looking so delighted with the irony that it takes everything in Warren not to ignite. “You’re so stupid. She’s totally into you.”

“Don’t touch me.”

“Right.” Stronghold’s hand immediately slides off. “Seriously, though. If you don’t ask Layla to the dance, someone else will.”

“Noted,” Warren says, like he isn’t already tying himself into knots over that exact possibility.

“You’re gonna ask her, then?”

Warren heaves a sigh. He can’t believe he’s about to confide in Will Stronghold, of all people, but at this juncture it seems like the path of least resistance. “I have tickets to something that night, and I want to ask Layla to go with me.”

Stronghold has the audacity to look innocently perplexed. “So, why haven’t you?”

“I’m, you know.” Warren pushes back his hair. “Waiting for the right time.”

Stronghold looks dubious. “It’s a date, not a prom-posal.”

“I know that,” Warren snaps.

Stronghold blinks, and something seems to click in his head. His expression goes slightly amused and, even worse, sympathetic. “You’re nervous.”

“I am not,” Warren says, but it sounds like a lie even to his own ears. “I’m just waiting for the right moment.”

“Okay, well.” Stronghold blows out a breath and puts his hands on his hips. “Any chance the right moment might be, like, today? Around now-ish?”

Warren narrows his eyes. “Why?”

“Because Magenta texted me five minutes ago that Andrew Chen is standing next to our bus, waiting for Layla.”

Warren’s heart lurches. “You should have led with that, Christ.” Guess he’s doing this now. Is he really doing this now? He has to, so he is. Warren slams his locker and swings his bag over his shoulder. “Where is Layla?”

“Magenta said she stayed after class to talk to Mr. Boy about—oh, okay, then. Bye! Good luck!” Stronghold calls after Warren’s retreating figure as he strides off down the hall.

Warren is so preoccupied with figuring out what he’s going to say to Layla when he finds her that he nearly runs into her as she exits Mr. Boy’s classroom.

“Warren,” she says, blinking up at him in surprise. “Hi.”

Warren, who suddenly feels like he’s stepped on stage with no lines prepared, takes a second to remember how to breathe before he gets out a “Hi.”

Layla stares up at him expectantly. Right. He’s supposed to say more words.

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

A pucker forms between Layla’s eyebrows. “Sure. I actually wanted to talk to you, too.”

Warren clenches the tickets between sweat-damp fingers in his pocket. “Okay. Do you want to…” He jabs a thumb over his shoulder at the mostly empty hallway.

“Okay.”

Layla follows him out into the hall, and they stand in semi-awkward silence until Warren says, “You first.”

“All right.” Layla tucks her hair behind her ears. She already looks embarrassed. Not good. “So, I might be way off base here, but I get the feeling you’ve been working yourself up to asking me to Winter Formal?” Her voice lilts up like a question, but she must find all the confirmation she needs in Warren’s expression, because she immediately continues, “and I just wanted to make it clear that you don’t have to.”

When Warren opens his mouth, “Oh” is all that comes out.

“Yeah.” Layla hooks her thumbs through the straps of her backpack. “I know school dances aren’t really your thing—and they’re not exactly mine, either. So I didn’t want you to think homecoming set some sort of precedent, that you have to ask—”

“I wanted to ask you,” Warren says, finally unsticking his throat.

It’s Layla’s turn for surprised silence. It takes a full two seconds for her to get out, “You did?”

“Yeah, but—not to the dance. Here.” Warren pulls the tickets out of his pocket. His thumb has smudged the ink of the top ticket, so he hands the bottom one to Layla. “Town hall is holding a fundraiser gala next Saturday to raise money to build a park on an empty lot in my neighborhood.”  

Layla takes the ticket in both hands and stares down at it.

“There’s going to be food and music and dancing,” Warren says, heart rate accelerating. “I think they’re going to auction off dedications for benches and flower beds and stuff. There will probably be a couple boring speeches by some government officials, but.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs. “I dunno. It sounded like it could be fun.”

Layla still hasn’t said anything, and Warren’s heart is throwing a fit in his ribcage, so he adds, “It’s the night of Winter Formal, though. So if you wanted to go to the dance with someone else and hang out with your friends, I totally—”

“No,” Layla says, looking up at him with bright eyes and a wide smile. “I’d love to go.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Warren says, too overcome by the cold flood of relief pooling in his gut to say anything more substantive than, “Cool.”

Layla carefully slots her gala ticket into the front pocket of her backpack. “Took you long enough,” she says, angling a teasing smile at Warren. “I couldn’t take another week of you opening your mouth like you were going to ask me something and then not saying anything.”

“Thank Stronghold,” Warren says, wondering what his life has come to, that those words just came out of his mouth. Must be the generosity of giddy relief.

Layla’s nose scrunches up in tickled confusion. “Why?”

“He warned me that Chen was gonna ask you to the dance this afternoon,” Warren says. “Sort of lit a fire under my ass.”

“But Andrew—” Layla breaks off with a laugh and shakes her head. “Will.”

“What?”

Layla takes Warren’s hand and starts walking them down the hall. “Andrew Chen’s been sick with the flu all week,” she says. “He’s not even here today.”

Warren’s mouth hangs open for a few seconds. “Stronghold.”

Layla laughs again and swipes her thumb across the back of Warren’s hand, and a great, soft warmth blooms in Warren’s chest.

Well. If he has to be indebted to Will Stronghold for something, this is as good a favor as Warren could have asked for.

Misconception No. 5: Warren Peace is not a touchy-feely person.

Warren himself would have sworn by this one, until a month ago. He has never, in all his life, considered himself a cuddly person. By any stretch.

It turns out that in order to identify as a cuddly person, you need someone to cuddle. Or, more specifically, someone you have permission to cuddle.

Dating Layla Williams finally gives Warren that permission.

He expected it to be harder, weirder, more awkward to transition from being someone who looks at Layla and thinks I want to put my arm around you, to being a person who can actually reach behind her back and curl his fingers over her hip bone.

It’s not hard at all. The first time Layla kisses Warren, up on her toes with her hands fisted in the lapels of his suit, in the dark of her front porch after the fundraiser gala, there’s a shift. A gravitational kick that sends them into closer orbit around one another, so that now it’s routine for Warren to wrap Layla in his jacket and tuck her into his side as they walk. Steal her hand to press her knuckles to his lips. Knock his knee gently against hers under their picnic table.

“Who knew Warren Peace was such a cuddle bug,” Magenta says, tipped back in a papasan chair to peer at Warren upside-down.

Warren is sitting on the shag carpet of Stronghold’s basement with his back against the couch to let Layla play with his hair while they talk over a movie. She’s just tied off an elaborate braid, so now his cheek is resting against her knee while she twirls the fine hairs at the nape of his neck around her fingers.  

“Call me ‘cuddle bug’ ever again and I’ll roast you like a marshmallow,” Warren says, too sleepy and comfortable to put any real heat behind the threat.

Magenta, true to form, doesn’t so much as blink. “Hate to break it to you, but an elegant Dutch braid kind of undermines your whole tough-guy act.”

Warren simply shrugs. It’s an occupational hazard of dating Layla, spending a lot more time around her—their?—friends outside school. Warren resisted at first, but at this point, it’s more exhausting to continue holding them all at arm’s length than to let them have the run of his life.

“Layla, in general, kind of undermines his whole tough-guy act,” Zach says. “You know he wrote her a poem for Valentine’s day.”

“Read her a poem,” Warren says. What else was he supposed to do? He couldn’t very well get Layla clipped flowers.

“That’s still sappy as hell, dude,” Ethan says.

“It was very sweet,” Layla says, leaning forward to plant a kiss on Warren’s forehead.

Warren unsuccessfully tries to bite back a smile.

“He’s preening so hard right now, oh my god,” Magenta says.

“Shut up.”

“Don’t tease him, or he won’t come back,” Layla says, but Warren hears the smile in her voice.

“Please. He’d go anywhere you go,” Magenta says, and as Layla’s fingertip traces the shell of Warren’s ear gently, always gently, Warren doesn’t even attempt to contradict her.

+1 Misconception: Layla Williams is a just happy, go-lucky hippy chick.

Outside Layla’s bedroom window, everything green is tucked under snow and the weight of waiting for spring. On the other side of the world, everything is burning.

Record-setting wildfires have raked Australia for weeks. Neither Layla nor her mom can directly feel what’s happening to the outback. But Layla knows her mom must sense it like she does, every time a singed koala or graveyard of splinterlike tree trunks appears on the news: a gnawing sensation that something on the far edges of her mind is vanishing into smoke.

The worst part is knowing there’s nothing Layla can do. Even if she had the means to get to Australia, there’s no way to salvage the aftermath of a forest fire. Layla wields incredible power over living organisms. But it’s like conducting an orchestra. Not much to be done if the entire ensemble is already dead when she takes the stage.

Actually, the real worst part is knowing that the inferno currently eating up Australia isn’t an outlier. The warming world is parching landscapes and revving up hurricanes, and every weather-related threat to her beloved biosphere is only going to get much, much worse. It makes Layla feel horribly, inescapably small.

To avoid sitting around the house and chewing her nails down, Layla takes on more volunteer shifts at the animal shelter. Helps Magenta with outreach for the Shapeshifting Students Association. Spends a couple Saturdays with the local river cleanup volunteer crew. Cooks dinner on the nights her mom is actually home. Overstudies for an exam in Hero Support.

It’s all a good distraction, but at the price of exhaustion. Layla feels emotionally sore. Like she’s been doing the psychological equivalent of running springs.

Case in point: “Layla?”

Layla blinks herself out of her middle-space-stare at the picnic table. “Hmm?”

Warren frowns. “I said, are you coming to the Lantern tonight?”

“Oh, no,” Layla says, and winces her apology. “Will’s coming over to study for Hero Support.”

“Why? You’re gonna ace that thing.”

“I promised Will I’d help him review.”

Warren’s frown deepens.

“What?”

“You should take a break,” he says.

Layla hides a yawn behind one hand and waves the other dismissively. “I’m fine.”

Warren gives her a flat look. Most of his expressions are pretty flat, but Layla has gotten good at reading the subtleties. This one says, quit your bullshit.

“What?” she says.

“You—” Warren spends a couple seconds struggling to find the right words. “Your hair is in a ponytail.”

Layla replays that in her overtired mind, wondering whether she heard correctly. “Excuse me?”

“No sparkly clip things. No scrunchies. You didn’t even do the thing where you wrap a little piece of hair around the elastic to hide it,” Warren says, as though that clarifies anything. When Layla’s expression makes clear that it does not, Warren sighs. “Babe. You’re exhausted.”

“Am not,” Layla says, and feels totally betrayed by her own body when the words are stretched out by a yawn. “Coincidence,” she says, in response to Warren’s unimpressed eyebrow-raise.

“Layla.”

“It’s fine,” she insists.

“Take a break,” Warren says, more insistently. “Stronghold can survive cramming for one exam on his own. Let baby bird learn to fly.”

“He’ll drop like a rock,” Layla says mournfully.

“Probably,” Warren says. “But you don’t have to be there for everyone all the time.”

Layla studies her bitten nails. “It makes me feel better.”

Warren’s ever-warm hands take hold of Layla’s, making her look up. But whatever he has in mind to say is interrupted by the bell. Warren gives her fingers a brief squeeze before releasing them, so that they can collect their things.

“Tell Stronghold to find himself another tutor so you can have a night off,” Warren says, hooking an arm over Layla’s shoulders as they head for the front doors. “Please.”

Layla does not. Which is why, when she says “come in” to the soft knock on her bedroom door at eight o’clock, she expects Will. Instead, she gets Warren, hovering on the threshold with his usual carefully concealed uncertainty, like he’s a vampire who has to wait to be invited in.

“What are you doing here?” Layla says, sliding off her bed. “I thought you had work.”

“Got someone to cover my shift,” Warren says. He’s holding what looks like a magazine. “This was more important.”

“What is… this?” Layla says. “You know Will’s going to be here any minute.”

“No, he’s not,” Warren says. “He’s at Magenta’s”

Layla narrows her eyes. “What did you do?”

“Told him to go find another study partner,” Warren says. “Since you’re already prepared.”

Layla crosses her arms and sinks her weight into one hip. “I told you, I want to help.”

Warren adjusts his grip on the magazine. Layla hears the paper stick to the sweat on his fingertips, but his determined expression doesn’t change. “Then help me.”

Layla blinks. “With what?”

Warren holds up what turns out to be a gardening catalog. “I want to get my mom a couple of indoor plants for her birthday,” he says. “Something pretty but doesn’t require a lot of attention, because she’s gone so much. I thought maybe you could help.”

Layla stares at him. “I love shopping for potted plants,” she says slowly.

Warren exhales a short laugh. “Uh, yeah, I know. And you are a good teacher, so.”

He rolls the catalog up between his hands and looks at Layla with guarded hope that shoots a bolt of affection like heat lightning straight through her stomach. She needs to sit down.

“Come in, then,” she says, and ushers him through the door. While Warren is taking off his shoes, “Just so we’re clear, you are not going to make a habit of rearranging my schedule behind my back.”

Warren stands up straight, dead serious. “Got it.”

Layla indulges a smile and leans up to kiss him. “I’ll forgive you this time, though.”

They sit on Layla’s bed, flipping through Warren’s catalog, as well as a stack of magazines that Layla has pulled out from under her desk. Warren loops his arms around her waist and hooks his chin over her shoulder, listening intently while she explains the care and keeping of flowers. It’s comfortable and easy and requires just enough idle attention to avoid falling into a slump. Layla could do this forever, she thinks.

Not an hour later, Layla is lying with her chin propped on her hands, which are folded over Warren’s chest, struggling to keep up conversation through yawns of increasing frequency.

“You can go to bed, you know,” Warren says, dryly amused, and tucks a strand of hair that has fallen out of Layla’s loose ponytail behind her ear.

“I might fall asleep right here on top of you, if you keep talking about it,” Layla says, closing her eyes and pillowing her cheek on her hands.

She feels, rather than hears Warren’s hitched inhale, and suddenly feels more acutely awake than she has all week.

Three seconds pass before Warren murmurs, “You can. If you want.”

Layla very carefully keeps her body relaxed and does not open her eyes to avoid breaking the fragile moment. “Mmm-kay,” she says, and adjusts to find a slightly more comfortable position. “Goodnight.”

“Night,” Warren says, one hand splayed between her shoulder blades, his other thumb smoothing the hair back at her temple.

Layla is so keenly aware of every point of contact that she thinks she might stay awake after all. But within minutes, the soft touch pulls her down into sleep.

[cocopubpotato]

a thor movie summary notes whatever

heya so nobody asked for this but here goes my entire notes of a summarry of the first thor movie

this was for a class work okay

saved you from having to scroll through this

New Mexico ; a person tries to register an anomaly an astrophysicist okay this movie starts differently than I thought thunder storms coming someone up there appears from the vortex and they run over him explanation of Norse mythology and they tell us about the war between Odin and the frost Giants. Orient took their power sources back to Asgard. Because it's a movie it has a chance to show us how radiant and perfect in comparison to New Mexico the reason the story is being told is to show thor and loki that war isn't good the next thing we see is thor being crowned Crown Prince in the event of a frost giant snake into the Asgardian vault to recover their power source and end up interrupting the ceremony. They failed their mission because security at the vault Teresa beat of a Maniac doesn't think properly of his actions this is a bunch of friends that don't matter.

I'm here thor decides to break the rules and still go to Jotunheim even though his brother Loki, who is a chaotic neutral at best, not to and also his friends advised he shouldn't do it but he doesn't care and does it anyway.

Thor's friends are going through Jotunheim to cause a big mess, Thor demands some answers from the ruler of jotunheim, he mentions theres a traitor(ps it's loki) it odins house and ignores that the frodt giant is actually nice and let's them leave but thor starts a fight anyway.

*insert action scene cause this is an action movie* (we also discover as does he that loki is actually a frost giant that was taken by odin during the war)

we can also see thors magnificent strength, odin come to save thors gang cause thors stupid and almost started a war then they have a fight and odin has to punish thor for his arrogance and stupidity by sending him to earth. While taking his powers away and giving the power to anyone worthy of holding mjiolnir thor's hammer.

now we retur to the start of the movie, thor being run over by a pair of scientists and getting tasered by an intern. thor goes a bit crazy on earth because who are these people doing something to the allmighty thor. we also get astrophyiscist science explained. then he gets runovered again. his friends over on asgard are talking about how horrible thors banishment is and loki reveals that he is the one that alerted odin, one of them suggests that loki might be a traitor ; loki goes for the frost giants powersource to learn more about what he is and finds odin. Now we go back to earth and see that thor doesn't know human etiquette.

talking about the hammer, here people find it and since noone is able to lift it a lot of people go near and try to take it; like the sword in the stone. until a certain organization comes and puts the whole area on lockdown to investigate.

the main scientist is called jane and honestly she makes very bad decisions(love interest) gets recommended not to keep on checking thor out; government takes away all her stuff and she gets pretty mad since they take her research. Shield James science equipment and research since discover for some reason she was there in the day the the aka the hammerfell I have some research basically no illegal wait but it's not illegal because they are the law. at Asgard well now remember at the Berkeley Loki is Apple Dutch angles oh yeah look at those odin link has fallen asleep and can't wake up loki is King in the meantime and denies the request to bring out door of his banishment.

back on Earth it's more about Norse mythology because he's curious about thor and everything. Jane takes by thor to the Hammer because she has nothing else to lose so might as well should we get some bad scenes of them flirting cringly that remind me so much of Star Wars Episode 2 which I hate. I really hate how back and forth to the plug go between now we are not now we are on earth we get a little bit of clear statement that I've actually loved Loki as her son as well no door is going to search for the hammer he's like right there I'll decide he only has two Frankie's weighing to hammer sentence on lockdown with hydrogen's hey I know that now PS he doesn't manage to lift the hammer heme Ethan Ward outfit because a crazy psycho that hasn't learned his lesson listen action scene action movie the good thing is that we get to see more dad even though you're lost his Godly Powers he is still very strong and at least holds his experience since most of what he did was close quarter combat combat that's it's an skis and able to live there he gets really mad barroso kinda sad to Luce these thoughts right now so it depends on the script on the right Bluetooth I submit my book like press that he can't do what he used to what's taken away government police.

Loki appears in front of thor and tells him the biggest lie the golden age that because because the war on coming to banish him kills me from the inside he also told him that because your character Golden Tones that I am the one on the throne home Barbie supplies. yeah I'm going to go to war as long as stars exiled and apparently agrees that he shouldn't come back and he has come to say goodbye the end. also Loki isn't worthy of the hammer.

now we give some bonding time foreign doctor Selvig because we need to to care about humans. but also thor takes note of how horrible person he has been. now we see the Loki is truly Daughtry tour and brought some of the soldiers into Asgard there is a key doesn't kill all them himself is because of the weekend that's suspicious if the new king kill the previous one. Heimdall doesn't believe any of lokis s*** price Val doesn't follow the rules he only believes in what's right it's like the most normal character in this thing

Now we get to see Torrid Jean because dorbrook dr. Selby after he drank passed out. Now we get to see more torrin James bonding okay but Jason is actually Exposition because store tells her about the 9 Realms of Asgard which is Earth and the others he apologizes for being a dick she apologizes for running him over oh and give her her research notebook because he grabbed it from the lockdown no to research more because she's actually right about her research on interpreting they have the look in their eyes pierdas relationship lasts yeah like two movies break up off screen. I want to sleep now. yay we get to see the sidekick Arjun game about going back to Rescue I'm bringing back to Asgard I have a lease on board because he doesn't believe inloki's reign yay now the sidekicks are not aired and they're going to search for tour but loki noticed that they left I never remember the name of this enemy but he reminds me so much of the one from X-Men Days of Future Past

Thor's friends found him yay I hear third Lair devil oketokun was a big lie because all his friends are like to know he's in there he's just asleep and then the enemy that guy Air Jordan wrecks havoc and beats Sidekicks up because they suck now they're evacuating the CD so that the Scythe cakes can keep the evil guy's he doesn't kill anyone going because killing is bad okay so because the bad guy is beating everyone really wants to kill tour Thor goes to find friends and he says some inspiring words to save so that she doesn't die kids and now he is worthy because he risked everything to save the others and has become a better person in the span of 10 minutes. thor tells Jane that he will come by he promises her that he will come back but we all know that he doesn't come back until like two years later because the bifrost is broken at the end of this movie because loki overcharge the bifrost it is going to destroy asgard and he can't let that happen but because of that he won't be able to see Jane ever again and he and Loki are almost falling to the universe and Loki let's go and disappears into the universe.

As a very merry and all the people in osgard are celebrating and everything Contender stories their mother and Thor are sad because Loki has gone and they love him like a son and brother and he also misses jane

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

The wrong girl, pt.4 (E.D.)

Summary: Ethan finds himself stunned once Y/N shows up at his door.

Warnings: angst, swearing, fluff

The Wrong Girl - Masterlist

"You're here!" Ethan exclaimed, stopping in the middle of his heated rant with himself and furious pacing back and forth his living room.

Y/N swallowed thickly, biting her lower lip as she cast her eyes to the older twin who had made a wreck out of her life.

"And I come bearing gifts." She pushed herself to smile, trying not to stare at his murky brown pools of chocolate he calls eyes.

Ethan looks at her hand, noticing the Starbucks goods she equipped herself with, raising a brow with uncertainty.

"Dairy free, I remembered." Y/N rolled her eyes as his lips immediately spread wider in response, a little too happy she kept his quirks so close to heart even after all this time. After all the grief she gave him for giving up such an important food group, he didn't think she'd account for it.

"That's great, but, uh, not to be a party pooper, but you're here?" Ethan steps toward her, just a small step that lessened the distance between them insignificantly in the actual sense, not nearly enough to make her feel uncomfortable. He was handsome from the depth of his eyes to the gentle expressions of his voice.

"Do you", she trailed off, itching to leave already as his continuous questioning of her current whereabouts made her anxiety skyrocket because she was right where she wanted to be, she just didn't want to talk about it, "not want me to be here?"

Widening his eyes, Ethan stumbled, losing footing and nearly falling head down. At the same time, Y/N screamed his name, terrified he's about to bang his head on the coffee table Grayson built, cracking his skull in the process. He's always acted like he doesn't have all his pieces together, but that would ensure it's true.

"You okay?" Her voice trembled, her hands shaking and the drinks she held onto were a moment away from spilling all over Ethan's precious carpets. He quite literally spent five trips to the store before he chose a carpet and he loved them way too much for it to be healthy, but it was just another quirk of his she learned to not only accept but love as well.

"I want you. Here, I mean. But I do want you. As in I want you with me. All the time. Everywhere." He looked up, his hands still at the table and the floor, keeping him steady while she seemed impassive to his proclamation.

"Everywhere?" Her eyebrow shot up, her lips curling to the left as her playful side came out.

"The bed, the shower, the car, the kitchen table, our pool, yeah. Everywhere." Ethan played along, honestly missing the flirtatious moments they shared when they just met. She looked like fun from the start and he wanted to know every part of her complicated soul. 

"Well, if you get my stuff from your yard, I'm sure we can make a few arrangements." She replied, pressing her lips together as her eyes flickered to her feet and remained on the drinks.

Ethan didn't miss a beat, jumping to his legs and finally diminishing the distance between them, taking away the drinks only to return to her and grab her face in his hands.

He was the kind of guy that wouldn't take an order but never needed to; whatever he was supposed to do, he did it. He told bad jokes and danced with moves humanity hasn't had the pleasure or horror of seeing for some time - and in her embarrassment she had never loved him more.

"You're moving out?" He asked out of breath, hearing his heart just as clearly as he could see her.

"Yeah. But, um, since I moved in with him, my old place is already gone and I have nowhere else to go." She sighed deeply, feeling overwhelming shame because she couldn't believe how stupid she was.

"I think I wanted to hurt you most of all. It's just that I'm so fucking bad at love and I made so many mistakes", but she doesn't get to end her rant, for he does it for her when his lips capture hers in a passion filled kiss that pulled her to her tiptoes just so their lips wouldn't part, even for a single moment. She could not have pulled back even if the world was ending. The first touch of his lips sent an aching shudder through her; his arms immediately closed around her, pulling her against him. Hardness surrounded her, his muscled arms caged her. His head angled, the pressure of his lips increased. They were hard, like the rest of him - commanding, demanding and a heartbeat later they were warm, enticing, seductively persuasive.

Y/N stilled, quivering, then he tugged and she plunged forward, into the unknown his lips offered. It was not the first time she'd been kissed, yet it was. Never before had there been magic in the air, never before had she been taken by the hand and introduced to a world of pure pleasure that a kiss could bring - so intimate, so heavy that most men couldn’t achieve completely naked.

His kiss left her giddy. Pleasurably giddy. What little breath she managed to catch, he took. The tip of his tongue traced her lips, a beguilingly artful caress. She knew she'd be wise to ignore it for he was leading her into realms beyond her knowledge, where he would be the leader, dominant one who would teach her things no one before him could despite trying.

A most unwise situation, a dangerous situation.

His lips firmed, heart welled, melting all resistance. On a sigh, she parted her lips farther, giving into his arrogant demand. He took what he wanted, shaking to her core.

However, humans are built so they need air and once their oxygen ran out, they separated, panting and smiling like teenagers.

Stunned, her wits reeling, she searched his face. One black brow slowly arched; his arms tightened.

"Was that okay?" Ethan chuckled, wondering if he crossed a line but he could hardly contain himself.

"Depends if it was because you love me or if you did it just to shut me up"

"Can it be both?"

"Yeah."

"Are you hungry? I can order something." He offered, still not moving as his lips brushed hers with every breath.

"Yeah, but not for food." She breathes out, all but whimpering with need for him even though she wasn't completely honest with him. In fact, she believed it would be better if he didn't know she had a few secrets left.

"I'm going to get your stuff first and we can definitely elaborate on that after." Ethan winked. His voice has a husky drawl and every step he takes is in slow motion to his front door with her just behind him and she knows he’s walking slow so she doesn’t have to run after him, but he’s rather confused once he finds only a duffel bag on his doorstep.

"Why is there only a duffel bag here?" Ethan frowned, unsure with what he's seeing because he knows he and she had so much stuff in her apartment it baffled him how she even got everything over to Jack's.

"Yeah. Uh, don't worry about it." Her tiny voice made him whip around, getting heated all over again and not for her body like he expected.

"What is happening right now?" He asked through gritted teeth, hating how she flinched with his tone and it only made his heart drop further when he realized his Snowflake looked way too fragile for him to be sharp with her.

When your world explodes from the inside Ethan is the man you want next to you. He feels the shock-wave and stays on his feet. Whatever he had to do disappears as he refocuses on what needs to be done. He'll cover every angle and stay right there until you can breathe, walk and talk at the same time. Then he stands back and lets you get back on with your life, never mentioning your crisis again and not wanting to discuss it further if that’s what you wish. But once the storm has passed his tolerance for backward steps is all but non-existent and negativity is banned. His shoulder is only for crying on when you can't stand alone, after that he expects you build inner strength, resilience. That’s what she loved most about him, because he would pick her up when she falls and help her piece herself together, but once she’s whole, he will not treat her like she’s made out of glass.

"Well, Jack and I...he doesn't know I'm here." She paused, drawing in a few quick, short little breaths as if she's trying to gather courage to speak. "Or that I'm not coming back." She finished, making Ethan break his own promise as his sharp tone pierced her defenses and she took a steal back just by seeing the fire in his eyes.

"You didn't break up with him?!"

GIF credit: @erosdolan

Tags: @accalialionheart @fallinginlove-16 @xalayx @heyits-claire @dolandolll @godlydolans @dolanstwintuesday @ethanhes @peacedolantwins @blackpinkdolan @dolandrabbles @softiegrant @inlovewithethandolan

[bi-antagonist]

@cherrytisane asked about some of the AUs that I have, so I decided to turn this into a post because??? I finally picked one to work with on nanowrimo lmao (still thinking about doing the others though, just not for the month of November)

And what AU did I pick to tell you guys about? One that I’ve had in mind for a week now, since it was one of my fav stories as a kid: Little Red Riding Hood.

Nothing extraordinary, but oh well. Here is some stuff I have:

Red takes the role of little red riding hood since, you know, RED. His job is to bring supplies to a mythical creature investigator – Professor Samuel Oak - every week, along with some personal products Daisy insists on sending because “gramps needs to take care of himself”. To deliver them, Red has to walk across the entirety of Viridian Forest, an enchanted and haunted place few dare to step a foot in.

He gets paid for it. Except for Daisy’s, he doesn’t take money for that. If he already has to go, why not bring her stuff too? However, she insists on paying him back via food and such.

Green takes the role of the big bad wolf. He’s actually a variant of a were creature – half wolf half human -, but manifests both parts instead of shifting between them. This is considered weird, since his parents and grandparents were shape shifters and not half-bloods (aka: me being both a furry and needing an excuse to make the bad wolf human)

This led his grandfather to sort of… put him apart and grow really cold and distant towards him without even noticing. Their relationship officially fell apart when Green grew tired and ran away from home, opting to live in the forest with a group of renegades instead.

Red doesn’t know Green and Oak are related. He just knows that 1 – Daisy used to have a brother, but he’s presumed to be dead for almost a decade; 2 – Green lives in a forest and has no real family.

The presumed dead part is not a lie. Daisy and Oak truly believe Green ended up dying in the woods (even if they sometimes sound like they believe he’s alive). This was part of the reason that lead Oak to actually leave Pallet and start studying other species, so that he could both be informed and share his knowledge to prevent the situation from ever happening again. To anyone.

Red first meets Green after a whole year of deliveries. He’s casually strolling down his path when something grabs his cape and, rather loudly, mutters “why the fuck are you wearing something so thin on winter, don’t you get cold? It’s ridiculous”. Red jumps in surprise and nearly punches Green in the face for scaring him like that.

Green had actually seen Red around before, but the fact that he wore a cap under the densest vegetation in the region and never really even seemed to fear the forest irked him to the point of stepping out of the shadows and introducing himself. He was also bored so hey, if this guy was a new way for him to entertain himself, why not.

So Red end up being followed around by a rather strange half human half wolf guy, and at first he thinks it’s either some kind of joke, or the guy was planning on murdering him. But after a while he reaches the conclusion that Green is just bored and lonely, so he accepts his company. Even if half of the time he’s ignoring him.

Green makes it a habit of asking Red twenty question per minute, even if Red rarely answers (“are you seein’ that old guy again? Can’t he like, go fetch his stuff for himself?” “are you really human? You don’t look human. It’s the eyes” “hey, loser, why are you here, it’s pouring. Won’t you get a cold?” “you wearin’ a dress today? You out of your mind? This is a forest, you can get stuck on branches!”).

Since Red can’t communicate while walking and carrying a basket, he starts handing his cargo to Green. When writing doesn’t prove exactly efficient, he slowly starts teaching him sign language. He doesn’t teach much though, since he himself rarely outs his thoughts.

Not even a month after knowing each other, they start making bets. Or, Green starts making bets and Red follows (“bet I can reach that huge boulder first” “I dare you to get close to that unicorn” “think ya can take a feather out of that weird fire breathing birdie over there?”).

Red slowly warms up to Green. It’s nice to have someone to both walk and talk with after so long, to have someone he can be himself with without feeling weird. Besides, when stripped out of his arrogance, Green is actually really nice to be around. Green, on the other hand, doesn’t even notice how happy and excited he gets when Red visits the forest.

Things start changing when they find some wounded animals scattered across the forest, all with clear marks of having been experimented on. Red takes the creatures to Oak, and news spreads that someone is trying to create an army of overpowered animals, while others claim that these experiments are just a starter before he culprit moves on to human testing.

Red eventually finds a young bunny with yellow fur, the creature having the ability to shock anything that touched it at will. Red takes the bunny and names it Pikachu. This was one of the experiments, but the animal didn’t appear wounded, so Red started taking it with him on his journeys.

Green doesn’t want Red involving himself with these people. Red, obviously, doesn’t give a shit and tries to get on with it anyway. Green just groans and follows him around, saying he’s keeping watch before Red tries to do anything stupid.

Both of them end up finding that a group named Team Rocket is behind the experiments, and they’re trying to enchant animals’ natures so that they can sell the creatures and profit from them. Red tells Daisy, and she tries to contact the local knights, but no one will hear them without proof, so the news never reach the ears of King Lance.

Daisy, not wanting Red to get harmed in his work, gives him an enchanted bell (a jingle bell, to be more precise) that, when shaken, rings at such an high frequency that humans can’t hear it, but shape shifters and animals can. Red ties it on his belt, covering it in a tiny piece of cloth to prevent it from accidentally ringing.

She also tells him that there’s been news of wild creatures walking around the Viridian Forest, scavenging everything they come across and challenging people for battles in a way to get clothes and food for winter (along with some money). According to her, this group has no trouble going rough on people to survive, although no cases of murder have been noticed yet. Red just nods, internally groaning at yet another trouble to deal with. However, he doesn’t tell Green about this one.

If you thought Green and his group of renegades were the ones behind this, you’re right. Red doesn’t find this out until he actually meets Green’s friends, though.

His friends are Leaf, Ethan, Silver and Lyra btw.

Green and Red end up having a fall apart. Red wants to take the Team Rocket matter on his own hands, while Green just wants to find evidence and let it go. Mad at each other, each takes their own path and ends up leaving the other.

Red misses Green, but fuck it if he’s gonna admit it.

Red takes on getting little info here and there each time he has to bring Oak supplies. Slowly, he manages to find where the Rockets keep the animals and plans of freeing them before winter ends.

Green didn’t stop with his quest of finding evidence, either. He and his friends start circling the area, gaining as much proof and info as they can.

Red gets ahead of them and, one afternoon, barges in and frees all the animals he comes across of.

Giovanni isn’t happy, and manages to actually catch Red when he was fleeing the scene. The man, although old, is stronger than most humans, and ends up overpowering Red pretty easily. Red manages to use the bell Daisy gave him, but not before ending up with bruises all over his upper body.

Green hears the bell and comes for him, being incredibly pissed off and worried, especially when he sees blood on Red’s clothing and scattered cuts going from his neck to his shoulders, some covering his hands. He’s panicking. Giovanni is smart enough and runs away.

After realizing no one on his group of friends can take care of Red before he either dies or gets one hell of an infection, Green summons up some courage and puts Red on his back, carrying him to the only person he knows who’s both close and can help: his grandfather.

I still don’t know exactly what happens afterwards, and the idea is still a little sketchy, but yeah, here it is – an AU heavily inspired on Little Red Riding Hood. Maybe I’ll end up changing and deleting some stuff, who knows. I just really hope my sudden inspiration doesn’t die when November arrives.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Dear Soulmate, pt. 23/finale (Soulmate AU)

23: We deserve a soft epilogue my darling

Summary: Y/N deals with her husband’s death, learning he wasn’t quite finished with her yet.

Warnings: angst

Word count: 3.6k

Dear Soulmate - Series Masterlist (Soulmate AU)  ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~       ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~       ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~       ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

"Y/N?" Grayson stood behind her, watching her hair dance with the autumn wind, knowing she was lost in thought, in her own sorrow, but he had to try. Damn it, he had to at least try and get her to rest even if he knew he would fail.

Y/N swallowed a hard lump that had been there since the moment she felt the connection sever, losing the other part of her soul in the process. She felt pieces of it were still there, unaware what those pieces are as she couldn't connect to them - like standing on a cliff with a great fall only a step away, a step she has to take because there isn't a bridge to guide her to the other side, toward safety.

She didn't cry yet. Not even a tear since the moment she felt him leave her. She just stood there, knowing she has lost her happiness, her forevermore. Funerals are like that, the height of raw emotion that swells to see your loved one committed to the soil sears the memory into your mind, that one day forever colored in black and white, just as she now saw the world. It wasn't really black and white, more as if the world has faded, lost its vibrance, because the sun didn't shine as bright anymore, not when Ethan wasn't there to see it.

Y/N was afraid to blink, for every blink brought forth memories: hearing the sirens not too far from her home, Grayson returning home with the confirmation, the kids crying - inconsolable, Cameron arriving with her family, the emptiness of staring at her ceiling and sleeping alone in their bed while wondering if it always felt so cold without him by her side. Then there was the memory of the ceremony she did for him, wanting to follow his religious beliefs even if she wasn't sure what she believed in anymore.

She stood at the front of the funeral. Everyone's heads were down. Maybe it was them showing respect or maybe there were too afraid to look at what was coming. The coffin was pulled from the hearse by six strong men, all wearing suits - Grayson and Cameron's husband were the first ones, Elijah - their eldest and Shawn - their youngest, were next followed by two of Ethan's work friends, the ones she couldn't even remember their names in this state. The silence dwelled as they entered the church. It wobbled as they carried it to the front and gently placed it down.

The coffin was dark stained cherry and it was perfectly polished. It had a cushioned and silky lining. Standing above his body in the church, it felt wrong - he looked so peaceful, like he was just sleeping, almost no sign of the accident that claimed his life, but he wasn't. She knew that. After all, she had her goodbye - she saw him go up the white staircase and into the light. Y/N wasn't a fool, she knew that was just his body, a vessel, because his soul was long gone - had it been there, she'd have known.

"He was supposed to go and get some milk...he badgered me for pancakes since the moment we went to bed on our last night." She spoke plainly, voice void of emotion behind her words as she stared blankly ahead at the coffin before her, refusing to move an inch.

"We were married for five years...completed the soulmate ritual twenty six years ago...known each other for twenty eight. I'm forty six years old, Grayson. I've spent most of my life by his side, loved that incredibly beautiful mess of a man, felt him for forty years inside my very soul and now? I don't feel him. I don't feel anything but cold." Her bottom lip quivered, her eyes closing as the wind dried them far too much to keep on a blank look.

"How is someone supposed to keep moving? What has to change inside you once you lose a soulmate? How does anyone live after that?" Her voice is brittle like glass, yet bleak...she sounds defeated, broken, lost. Lost because she lost a big part of her and she wanted that part back, she wanted it back so bad, but he was gone, vanished in thin air.

"I don't think you do. I'm not saying it gets better, Y/N/N, but it will get easier. Someday, somehow. You know he'd want you home with the kids, with people who love you just as much as he did. He'd want you home in the warmth, not out here freezing." Grayson docile tone frustrated her. It felt like he's being diplomatic, like she'd go and do something stupid as to hurt herself now.

She wasn't trying to be difficult, nor play the victim. She just needed to see this all the way though. She wanted to see the dirt that covered his coffin, to know his body is safely put in the ground and the people who were supposed to do that were already on their way. She needed to be there, to remember that he won't be there anymore - not for quick runs out for milk nor the cuddles, not for the periods and not when her kids graduate or get married or have their own children. He won't be there and she needs to take a moment to make her peace with it. She needs to accept she's left alone. Almost alone.

"It's always freezing inside of me." She sighed heavily, feeling Grayson's hand slip into hers, locking their hands together and for a moment...just a moment, she didn't feel as cold anymore. She couldn't bear to look at him for too long, afraid of the way her mind played tricks on her because even with the beard Grayson grew and the longer hair, he still looked like her Ethan. He still looked every bit alike him and it hurt her terribly. But, the moment she felt the ember of warmth with his touch, she had to look up and see him, just to let him know she wants him there.

"And I'm already with the people I love." She leaned closer to him, letting him wrap an arm around her, watching as the workers started to cover the coffin with dirt, slowly but surely.

Once home, Y/N tried to keep up a facade, offering her children sage advice and safely tucking them away in their rooms. She feigned a smile for all those who tried to comfort her, wishing they would just leave and let her be. She played her part well, waving goodbye to all those who finally started to go, feeling less and less heavy when no one there watched her anymore. No one, but one old man.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Y/N." The old man took her hands in his shaky ones, offering her a sympathetic smile for relief.

"Grant Geller. I'm sorry, I didn't expect you here, doctor." Y/N couldn't hide her surprise, watching the old man with worry. He didn't seem to be quite capable of standing on his own, let alone travel and last she heard, the man was living in Germany.

"Oh, I'm sure you didn't. I wasn't even sure I'd be able to come." Sitting down, he took his bag, pulling out a single flash drive before pressing into the palm of her hand.

"But I had to give you this." He smiled once more, this time more widely as if it was something he held onto for far too long and finally had a chance to pass onto someone else.

"It's from your late husband. I believe it might help you, my dear."

But all she could hear next is the sound of her heart beating wildly inside her chest. In her hand, she held what could very well be the last of her husband's piece of mind, which could either ruin her memory of him or made it shine even brighter. 

When the house cleared and everyone fell asleep, even Grayson who had been awake for days on end just as she was, Y/N finally went to her bed and put the flash drive into use. She couldn't not know what was on it. She needed closure. She needed more of him and knowing there was some undiscovered part of him would have desolated her.

She wasn't ready when she saw the only thing on the flash drive was a video named Dear Soulmate, reminding her of her own series meant to find him.

Shaking, she double clicked on the file, gasping once she saw his face once more - not the face of the man she had just lost, but the man she had found once upon a time - an eighteen year old Ethan with the world on his shoulders.

"Hey there, darling. I'm sure you're quite confused as to why this came to your possession or why I'm speaking like I'm eighty, but I'm guessing if you're watching this, you're somewhere around the same age and I've decided that when we turn fifty I'll start calling you darling." Chuckling, Ethan cocked his eyebrow just as he used to do till the moment he died, arrogant and confident and every bit an Ethan Dolan thing that she had adored. Pausing the video, Y/N moved the laptop, rushing toward the bathroom to release the nausea that crawled up her throat.

Seeing him...hearing him again, especially when he talked about a future they would never see and he believed would happen, all of that clutched her stomach until it turned into a knot that needed to empty its content.

With a little mouthwash, Y/N cleared the bitter taste from her mouth, returning to her bed once more to watch the video, determined to hear what he had to say. What did he think was so important she knew that he had made a video for her to watch after his death?

Taking a deep breath, she pressed play once again.

"I'm sure I'm still just as handsome as you remember." Ethan smirked, chuckling to himself before raising both hands up in mock surrender, making Y/N giggle, her eyes watering.

"But I'll stop now and get down to business." His playful smirk retired, leaving a serious look in his eye as his lips set in a firm line.

"I wanted to explain what my therapy was about. Because yes, I felt burdened by the pain and suffering I caused you, but there was more to it. Much more, because I...I robbed Grayson of his soulmate and I'm not sure how I'll ever be able to forgive myself for this." Rubbing his forehead, Ethan frowned, looking down at his hands while Y/N tried to understand.

"Doctor Geller said almost fifty percent of all identical twins actually share a soulmate as they have been made out of a single soul - one soul in two bodies - each with a claim on the soulmate they share but one is usually stronger than the other. Twin who has a stronger connection to the soulmate is cursed to live an unusually short life, rarely surviving their twenties and...as you know, our connection - you and I...we're as strong as it gets." Ethan swallowed hard, the gulp picked up over his microphone and the words would have stopped Y/N's heart if it were possible. The notion of Ethan's words, the meaning behind them, all of it made her want to be dead.

"Grayson's timer was never when he'll meet his soulmate. It showed when I'd die and when he'd have the stronger connection. But when you two got into that accident, it changed. Somehow, you've made a difference in the universe and the timer stopped, so instead of two years, I got..." Glancing back up at the camera, Ethan chuckled dryly.

"I'm not even sure how long I'll get with you...if I'll ever be given the chance to call you darling, I just know I've been given this rare, once in a lifetime opportunity to love you and I can't help but feel guilty because Grayson will never get what I did." Sighing, Ethan runs a hand through his hair, giving them both a small pause to draw in a fresh, deep breath, enough to keep them alive.

Y/N wanted to scream, to cause a scene because she knew Ethan hid something from her and she trusted him enough to share once he is ready, but this? Now?

"Grayson knows too. Doc told him and he, uh...he asked me never to tell you. He said he'd make the sacrifice for us both so our connection would never be tainted, but I couldn't keep that to myself forever. He said he'd be there for us, with us, but it's slowly killing him, I know it is. It's why he's always away, having meaningless one night stands and drinking...it's killing him because this, all of this, was how he saw his life going, not me." Lifting his head, Ethan looked straight at the camera and smiled.

"But then you came around and I knew I was a goner. I was yours and I didn't even fight it. Not even a little. I hope we had a long life together, I hope you have good memories of me to hold onto and I hope Grayson found a way to live without being in pain." Ethan exhaled loudly, licking his lips.

But Y/N...she just remembered how amazing he was with her. He made her so, so happy and it wasn't about the flowers he bought her every Friday after work, or about the slow dancing in the kitchen at two after midnight, or about the surprise trips they took or the perfect porch swing he built her with a little help from his brother...it was about the way he always cared for her and everyone he ever met - how much he gave in every relationship he had with the people in his life, how good he was with their kids and in his job as a director or how supportive he was of her job as a writer. He always went that extra mile in his life and this was proof. He couldn't bare his brother never got anything he did, and this...this was a blessing on his behalf.

"I'm not sure if I made you love me or hate me after, but I do know that I have loved you since the moment I watched the first Dear Soulmate video I've seen and I know that never stopped, not even after I'm gone. Wherever I am, I hope you know I'm with you - in your dreams, in your heart. I love you. We will be together again, I know this...after all, we deserve a soft epilogue my darling." Ethan blew a kiss toward the camera, the screen going black, allowing Y/N to finally shed a tear, starting an entire night of crying into her pillow as she clutched his - it still smelled like him.

She couldn't understand why her accident changed everything, nor the fact that once Grayson's timer hit zero Ethan would have died. How was that destiny? How was that his path?

But destiny can change by big events that echo throughout the universe, such as losing your soulmate, and Ethan lost both Y/N and Grayson that day. Sure, Grayson's heart stopped only for a moment, but Y/N died more than once. It's both cruel and giving, to offer two people a single human being to love while taking one too soon.

Once dawn shone through, Y/N couldn't sit and cry anymore. She wiped her cheeks and walked downstairs, taking a bottle of water before going outside to sit on her porch swing.

But the swing wasn't empty.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Her voice is hoarse, weak, barbed in wire as the accusatory tone registered with Grayson who didn't even have to ask. Ethan once swore Y/N will find out the truth and he knew the day was upon him.

"Because you loved him. You two were happy and I was just a complication." He shrugged, angering her.

"You weren't a complication to me!" She whisper shouted, sitting beside him with a tear-stained face, still so defiant as she used to be.

"I was your best friend. I know." Grayson finished for her, taking a sip of his whiskey before glancing at her.

"But I also know there's too much history between you two to ever make a difference. I'd never want to hurt either of you, even if I was stumbling through life." He took a sip once again, smiling.

"I never stopped being your soulmate and I never will. I'll always be there for you, Y/N/N. Always. A shoulder to lean on, someone to count on...soulmates don't have to be romantic, you know?" Grayson sighed, almost as if he's trying to convince himself more than her.

"So you'll stay?" She breathes out, relieved she wouldn't be left alone. The twins, Elijah and Ellie would go back to college on Monday, Shawn had a year left of high school before he left the nest too...Ethan and Y/N planned to travel after their kids left. They wanted to live a year in Italy and they wanted to see the Northern lights. There were so many plans that would never come to pass, but knowing Grayson would be there...that she wouldn't be completely alone, it gave her something to hope for.

"If you want me to." Grayson turned to her, hoping, praying she'd want him to. More than anything, he wanted to stay. He's been running for so long, afraid to get close, afraid to hurt the life she made for herself.

"I do. I do want you to."

Two years later

The lights blazed in the silent sky. On some nights they would resemble the swirl of a nascent rose that had begun to open, sometimes it was a great river, and sometimes it was great lines descending to earth like the landing lights of a UFO.

Ethan would have loved if it were a UFO, because all his conspiracy theories would have been proven true.

The colors were utterly brilliant and pure. The vibrant shades were in perpetual motion, dancing, flowing, changing shades.

When she looked up at the sky, she saw a ribbon of color. Streams of emerald danced and twirled in the space between the stars. The lights danced across the dark sky, each color slowly fading into another. The frosty winter air bit her cheeks, and her neck was aching from tilting her head back to see the Aurora Borealis, but she could care less. The lights were beautiful, swaying and changing and illuminating the world. Their glow, their shine, everything about them was beautiful.

"This is perfect." She whispered, her words coming out in fumes as she watched in wonder, holding tightly onto Grayson's gloved hand.

"The greatest show on Earth." Grayson agreed, knowing just how much this meant to Y/N. He knew she wanted this, more to keep her dreams with Ethan alive than anything else. Soon after the funeral, she confessed she could still see him, talk to him, but only in her dreams. It wasn't as often as she wanted, but she would get an occasional piece of Ethan in her dream. It didn't feel like it was before, but rather as Ethan told her it was when she was in a coma. He was there, breaking through the static between worlds, still there for her in her dream state, just as his twin was there for her in her wake.

"I can't wait to tell him we did this. I hope he can see them too." She smiled brightly, so widely that Grayson couldn't help but watch her in awe. She was more beautiful than the lights above them, he couldn't deny it. But he also knew that she was always to be Ethan's girl.

He may be there holding her hand, but she's never truly his. They never crossed the invisible line and while they did kiss a few drunken nights, Y/N still couldn't let him in her bed. Grayson knew she never would. The left side of her bed was always reserved for Ethan, even when he was occupying it.

There will always be a part of her still at his funeral, hearing everyone saying their goodbyes. It's the part that refuses to let her go, that needs their bond to extend past their mortal life together. But Y/N did move on. She did find beauty in life, in her children, and doing all the things she wanted to but delayed for years on end.

It was her way to keep Ethan alive and in time, she found happiness as well. There was beauty in her pain, reminding her that what she had was so earth shattering, so important, that there was no other way but to feel the hurt and smile through it.

Twenty years later, Y/N Dolan died peacefully in her sleep, dreaming of her eighteen year old self holding hands with an eighteen year old Ethan as they walked up the white staircase together, up into the light.

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