#i get tired so quick now i used to work on projects for 8 hours straight no problem

[starswillscream]

starclan give me the strength to finish this project

[venusrising91]

Noise Complaint

Pairing: Wonho x Male reader

Genre: Smut, enemies to lovers/hate to love (no plot just vibezzzz)

Summary: Your new nextdoor neighbor, Wonho (Lee-ho) is a loud, inconsiderate gym rat. He keeps you up all hours of the night with his seedy escapades and you're sick of it. 

Word count: 2,014 (2 pages)

T/W: aggression, physical violence

It was 4am and you had work at 8, yet rest was as far from your reach as the sun would be once it rose. 

Short hours. 

You had short hours to get some much needed sleep. But no matter how hard you’d tried, you hadn’t been able to reach the REM state and it was all thanks to your obnoxious, ridiculously muscular neighbor, Lee-ho. 

    For the third time this week, giggling voices and blaring music, followed by high-pitched moans had kept you wide awake. Usually, after one or two rounds with whatever girl he’d picked up scouring city night clubs, the mewls and slaps and yes daddys would subside, and you could finally drift. But tonight, he seemed to have endless energy. You heard his date come four times. Back to back.

    It was almost 6:30 by the time they wore themselves out.

    You’d barely slept. At the office, you struggled to keep your eyes open, staring through slits at the charts on your computer. The project manager noticed you nodding and called you into her office after the meeting. As head graphic designer, you were expected to oversee and execute this assignment—because securing this client would ensure you a raise next quarter, but the arrival of your new neighbor had thrown a wrench in your performance.

    She threatened to take you off the project and her disappointment was all you could think about on your commute back home.

    In the apartment lobby, you pressed the button on the elevator console so hard it nearly jammed.

    “Sup bruh.” You whipped your head around and there was Lee-ho, all 6 feet of him, donned in gym wear and sipping on some colorful drink. You clenched your teeth.

“Hey,” you mumbled back with listless regard.

    The elevator doors opened and Lee-ho walked gingerly ahead of you. Before he could step inside however, his cell slipped from his pocket. As he bent you couldn’t help but notice his butt: firm, round, muscled. You tore your eyes away and carded your hair. Inside, the music was soft and unobtrusive. The exact opposite of Lee-ho.

“How you feeling?” he asked, plunging his hands into his pockets.

“Tired.”

He snorted. “Oh yeah, me too.”

    “I’m sure you are.” You glared at him, slightly envious of the angle of his jaw, of how much sharper it was than yours. And envious also of the broad span of his chest, his neat features, his lips, his hair. He was by all accounts, an objectively better looking man than you and this only added to your irritation.

    “What d’you mean by that?” asked Lee-ho, quirking his brow. He must have sensed your frustration because now he was folding his arms, closing up. You didn’t care.

    “You know the walls that separate us are paper thin, right?”

    “Yeah, and?”

    The doors slid open on your floor. “I can hear everything. All the time.” You stepped out before him, stalking down the hallway.

    “My bad, dude. I’ll keep it down,” he shouted after you. There was a smug air about his tone and you ignored him as you shoved your key into the lock. It was only 7pm but you were exhausted. After a quick dinner of leftover pasta, and an even quicker shower, you went to bed, desperate to get back the hours you’d lost. You drifted in minutes, sleeping soundly, until loud music and moans yanked you from your dreams at 2am.

    You leapt from the bed, pulling on a robe, not bothering to tie it. It took less than two minutes for you to reach Lee-ho’s door. You pounded on it furiously, on and on, until he swung it open. For a moment, each of you stood silently observing one another. He was fully nude, sweating and cupping his genitals as his eyes swept over you. They lingered on your chest, you noted, then trailed up to meet your gaze. Despite your robe, you felt suddenly bare, and exposed. Quickly you tied it, covering yourself from him.

    “What the fuck, dude?” said Lee-ho.

    “Keep it down.”

    “Yeah and what if I don’t?”

    “I’ll write a formal complaint. You're violating code of conduct with this shit. Some of us have actual jobs, you know?”

“I have a job.”

“Gym bro influencer and fuckboy does not an occupation make.” This was rude, and uncalled for. But you were sleep deprived. Lee-ho's shoulders slumped down a measure—he appeared somewhat diminished in the face of the insult and you almost felt bad for him. Your eyes fell on his abs however, and then, without meaning to, dipped even lower, catching a glimpse of what was too large to be completely covered by his palm. Even his cock was better than yours—he didn’t need your pity. Without waiting for a retort, you turned and stormed down the hall.

Back in your bedroom, the beginnings of an erection tugged at the tender flesh between your legs. And by the time you lay back in bed, you were rock-hard, and aching.

    In the morning you shaved and contemplated calling out, but you really couldn’t afford to. At work, you tried to concentrate but all you could think of was Lee-ho, of his throbbing head, peeking up from behind his hand in the middle of the doorway. You didn’t like men. At least you thought you didn’t. You’d had a few girlfriends in the past and once or twice thought about experimenting with a guy back in college but no one ever drew you in. No one ever attracted you the way—

    Enough, you weren’t doing this. What were you thinking? You weren’t into dudes and especially not ones you despised as much as Lee-ho. He probably never had to work for anything a day in his life. Just had to show up and collect everyone's praise and adulation. 

Prick.

    Back at the apartment, you took the stairs to avoid crossing paths with him. Thankfully it was Friday, and you could catch up on your shows without feeling guilty for missing the sleep that was so hard to come by lately. 

After dinner and a shower, you binged a season of a new show on Netflix, and dozed off halfway through. But a short while later, a sharp knock on the door jolted you awake.

    You shuffled to it, half-dazed. Waiting on the other side was Lee-ho, glaring a hole through your forehead.

    “You know, you’re a real asshole?” he declared. 

    “Could say the same about you.”

    “What you said the other night—you don’t talk to people like that. I want an apology.”

    You scoffed and made to shut the door. But he stopped it, forcing it open. “Get off the door and fuck off,” you clipped.

    “Or what?”

    Impulse and anger drove you to shove him, which was stupid. His arms alone were twice the size of yours. He shoved you back and you stumbled into your apartment. Lee-ho stepped over the threshold, letting the door slam behind him. Then his hands were on you again, crashing into your chest. It knocked the air from your lungs. Enraged, you swung and missed. He caught it and wrapped his hand around your throat, pinning you against a wall. His face was inches from yours as he strangled you, but slowly, his grip loosened. Each of you were panting. He smelled expensive, like Tom Ford—the scent filled you, clouded your head and senses. His breath on you was warm, his lips resting short inches from yours. He brought them even closer, until the tips of your noses were grazing.

“What are you doing?” you whispered.

    “I—I’m not—I’m straight but…your…” he trailed off, hand sliding across your chest.

    “You wanna fuck me, that it?” Neither of you said a word, only stood there, gazing, panting. Then your hand traveled down, until it landed on his crotch. You palmed his cock, and found it was already hard for you. After the other night, you couldn’t get it out of your mind. Once it was in your mouth, he made the most helpless sounds, cupping your head and guiding you as you swallowed it again and again.

    “Fuck, your throat feels s-so good,” mewled Lee-ho. You fought against your gag reflex, getting harder each time he shoved it in, down to the hilt. Your eyes watered. You never thought the taste of cock could turn you on this much. Women were lovely and all but this was something else entirely. It was like satisfying some primal urge you never knew existed until now. You squeezed his balls gently, sucking him all the while. He came in minutes and stood over you shivering as the orgasm rippled through him.

    You rose, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Lee-ho dropped to his knees, pulling down your boxers. He took you in his mouth and it felt like the world stopped spinning. His tongue swirled around the tip, one hand cradling your heavy balls, the other gripping your ass, a finger seeking the rosebud. He tried to slip it in but you panicked, bucking away like a spooked horse.

    “I thought you said you were straight?” you whispered.

    He popped your cock from his warm mouth. You twitched as he smirked up at you. “Chicks like it sometimes. I figured you might wanna give it a try. Feels tight though, got any lube?”

    You hesitated, wondering what it would be like to have his finger circling inside you. There was nothing but heat and silence as you stared down at him. “In the bedroom,” you said, breathlessly.

    As you lay on your back watching his chiseled body shift in the dim light, he slathered the lube you kept in your bedside drawer onto his middle finger. Then he drizzled some over your erection, spreading it with long strokes.

    “Fuuuuuck,” you whined, arching at the pleasure, at the way he gripped you.

“You like that?” With this, he slid a finger inside you, taking it slow. The pressure had you arching even more. Once he eased you past the initial pain, all you could do was moan and claw and look down at your rock-hard cock as he pumped you in two places, at different paces. In the front he squeezed tight, giving you fast, steady strokes, but in that pulsing spot between your cheeks he worked you soft and deep, taking his time as his finger explored your depths. The pressure was glorious, and you felt your entrance contracting around him. “You’re dripping for me,” he cooed. You looked down at yourself as he gripped the base, a long rope dangling from the tip onto your stomach. He licked it, dragging the pad of his tongue along your abs, then swallowed you whole. After a few hard sucks he pulled back, finger still buried in you, coaxing out spasms you couldn't control. Fuck he was so attractive, you never thought a man could make you feel this good.

    The next moment, you were shooting ropes in the air, convulsing under him and fisting the sheets as he drained you. He let you pant there, chest heaving, before taking your length back into his mouth. He sucked and finger-fucked you through your sensitivity, ignoring your loud moans and cries. You asked him to stop but you didn’t mean it. You wanted more and he gave it to you. All night. After your third orgasm you could barely stay conscious.

Lee-ho crept beside you, watching as you shivered your way through the leavings of your latest high. 

    “I’m s-sorry,” you muttered between waves of it, “about the other day. You’re right, I shouldn't have spoken to you like that.”

    He chuckled. “It’s fine. I’ll be quiet from now on, promise.”

    You couldn’t quite keep your eyes open, and drifted then, still tingling from what he'd done to you. Your rest went uninterrupted for the first time in weeks. But when you woke, Lee-ho was gone.

    From then on, the noise had stopped, just like he'd promised. But a few times a week, just before bed, there came a knock at your door, and a smirking, half-naked Lee-ho waiting on the other side of it.

[kazariloveandhavok]

Chapter 8: Flying Colors! Beach Day at Candila!!

A few days had passed since the fiasco at Sealineas, the Squad and the Trio had needed a break from all the chaos of the past few days, and, as fate would have it, they had all passed their assignments with a flying colors, and thus, as celebration, this was a perfect occasion to have some fun at the beach. 

Mount Candila Beach

Without a single solitary cloud in the sky, the sun’s warm golden rays kissed the rose-gold sand as the waves of the cool ocean washed along the shoreline, complemented by the equally cool, gentle breeze. Iyexi, clad in a white one piece with green and purple frills, was quite observant, taking in the sights of the beach, digging a hand into the sand, the others, sans Kazari, were close behind her. 

Finn nervously gazed at the ocean’s waves as they moved back and forth. “Gods damn you, moms…” they muttered to themself, heart beating in their chest “Where are you, Kaz…”

Maila placed a hand on the magicat’s shoulder with a gentle smile, “It’s okay, Finn. We’re right here,” she said, assuringly, though it’s debatable as to how much it actually helped. 

In any case, Rose and Riley got work, setting up blankets, beach chairs and umbrellas. Maila’s mermaid strength was a godsend when it came to carrying the large cooler. As for Finn, they don’t like to interact with water more than necessary, but little did they realize, they were standing a little too close to the water, so when the waves washed under their feet, their immediate reaction was to recoil, sprinting back into camp area. Finn, dropped to their knees, clutching their chest as their heart was beating so fast, it threatened to burst from their chest, showering everyone in blood and bones. 

Archer and Iyexi were quick to run up to Finn, with Iyexi gently rubbing their back. “Finn, just keep looking at us! Okay?” she said, holding eye contact with the distressed magicat, who was now in a cold sweat, continuing to mutter, “Damn you, moms….”

Archer tapped on his chin, wracking his brain for a solution, and then, with a gasp, he placed a hand on Finn’s shoulder “How about a distraction? Did you know?” Archer began, “Apparently there was a lost runestone somewhere inside of the mountainside…”

“Oh! You mean the legend of the Fire Princess?” 

All eyes turned towards the new voice. Kazari, clad in a red and black bikini top that accentuated her figure, along with matching shorts, approached the group. Her blood-red hair flowed in the wind, catching everyone's attention.

For Finn, it felt like the Gods were throwing them a lifeline. Without hesitation, they leaped to their feet, rushing toward their fellow magicat and enveloping her in a tight embrace, as if Kazari were their salvation. Kazari, caught off guard, quickly reciprocated, teasingly saying, “Woah, there. Where’s the fire?” before breaking the hug.

“Sorry I’m late, I kinda overslept,” Kazari explained, rubbing the back of her head with a chuckle. She then noticed Finn’s tired appearance, heavy bags hung beneath their eyes like an albatross. “Damn, Finn, looks like you haven’t been getting much sleep either, huh?”

In response, Finn yawned and said, “Yeah, well, Mamadora and Momeow were bitching at each other at such ungodly hours. It doesn’t tend to bring about a good night’s rest. I had to bail and trek all the way to Juliet’s place at about 3 AM! I’M LITERALLY RUNNING ON 3 HOURS OF SLEEP!” Their frustration was evident in their raised voice.

Kazari flashed her million-dollar smile at Finn. “Welp, we’re here now. Let’s unwind and have some fun, okay?”

Finn gave a soft gentle smile and said, “Okay…”

Meanwhile at Brightmoon…

The healing magic of She-Ra could only do so much to help with a headache brought on by an all-night screaming match with Catra. After downing a tablet for good measure, Adora went into the meeting room to join Bow and Glimmer.

"Hey, Adora," Bow asked pensively, trying not to disrupt any peace. "How are you feeling?"

Adora slammed herself into a chair and said emphatically, "No!" before grabbing a piece of bread and stuffing it into her mouth, rubbing her temples. Glimmer absentmindedly summoned a Rubik's Cube's worth of nose candy, imported from the Kingdom of Snows, and sprinkled it into her tea.

"Well, Adora, you and Catra just need time to cool down. Ohren has been itching to train with you, so why don't you get ready to meet her at Liq Ollum?"

Adora perked up, suddenly remembering what she came in for. "Has anyone seen Finn?"

"Apparently, they and the others are at the beach. Quite frankly, I'd say they all earned it," said Bow, chipper as ever.

Adora slumped down in her chair.

"Well, shit...I hope Finn's going to be okay..."

Back at the beach…

Finn nursed a water bottle as they watched Kazari play volleyball. Kazari took a running start and spiked the ball as hard as she could, but an errent gust of wind knocked the ball off course, ricocheting off the side of the net and smacking Finn in the face. Kazari gasped and ran over to Finn, who was now rubbing their nose.

“Crap! Sorry, Finn. You good?!” Kazari asked, concerned.

Finn slowly recovered, telling their fellow magicat, “Yeah, I think so. Man, it’s a good thing you weren’t using your havok magic, I would’ve been fifty shades of fucked!” 

Kazari chuckled and sat down next to Finn, studying the water bottle. “At least your aversion to water doesn’t extend to staying hydrated. Speaking of which…” Kazari’s voice calmed to the gentle lull, almost like a whisper, in tandem with her accent, sounded like a mother effortlessly calming her frightened child, “What’s up of you and water?” 

Finn sat up with a somber sigh. “You’re my best friend, I guess I owe you that much. I try not to hate my moms, but they make it pretty hard, such as one instant. I was only nine years old, it was my moms’ wedding anniversary, everyone else tagged along to Space Vegas, but instead of doing the halfway sensible thing like letting me stay with Madame Razz or something,  I was dragged along.  I was in the hotel room, just vibing, but apparently that was not good enough for Mamadora and Momeow, who decided to drag us all down to the pool…”

Kazari’s eyes furrowed. “Finn, did they….?”

Finn simply nodded and said, “Yep, those bitches grabbed me and yeeted me into the deepest end of the fucking pool!”

Kazari could only let out a quiet, “Jebuss Fuck…”

Finn continued.

“As I flailed around in the water, every time I tried to escape the water, Momeow would scratch me and the others. Maila didn’t know how to use her powers, so she tried to get Mermista, but she was busy pegging Seahawk. Eventually, after nearly drowning, Spinnerella and Netossa had to come and fish me out. I was never the same…”

-----

Kazari nodded, deep in thought. "I understand... Finn, it's not your fault."

Maila's voice rang out, “Yo! Finn! Kick the ball back to us!”

Finn jumped up, their gaze fixed on the ball, and gave it a swift punt towards the group. However, they misjudged the strength behind their kick. The ball soared past the others, bouncing off the ground, and plunging into the water. The magicat's heart sank.

"Fuuuuck..." they muttered under their breath.

Kazari offered a reassuring look and placed a comforting hand on Finn's shoulder. "Don't worry, Finn. I'll take care of it."

But just as Kazari was about to step into the water, Finn reached out and placed a trembling hand on their friend's shoulder. "No, Kaz. I'm the one who kicked the ball, so I need to be the one to retrieve it," they insisted, a shiver running down their spine at the mere thought.

Kazari suggested, "How about we go in together?"

Without further discussion, the two magicats cautiously waded into the water. Finn's palms grew clammy as they stepped further into the cool depths. With a sigh, Kazari crouched down and lifted Finn onto her back, causing a deep blush to spread across Finn's face. With a single powerful leap, Kazari plunged into the ocean with a resounding splash.

Kazari's rigorous strength training paid off, as she effortlessly carried Finn while swimming. But as the two drew closer to the ball, a glimmer caught Kazari's attention in her peripheral vision. Something protruded from the sandy ocean floor. Retrieving the ball, she handed it to Finn and asked, "Finn, do you trust me? I want to try out a new move with my havoc!"

Finn nervously nodded. "I trust you, Kazari."

Kazari placed her palm on Finn's chest and channeled a surge of havoc through her arm. With a powerful burst of energy, she launched the magicat out of the water, gathering sand and seaweed in their wake before skidding onto the towels. Concerned, the others rushed over to check on them. Meanwhile, Kazari took a deep breath and dived back beneath the waves, swimming down to explore what lay beneath. With a swift pivot, Kazari planted her feet firmly on the sandy ocean floor and crouched down to examine the object protruding from the ground. It had a distinct trapezoidal shape, and its surface shimmered with a shimmering blend of iridescent green and purple hues. It was a strange crystal, roughly the size of a rubber eraser. As Kazari extended her hand towards the crystal, tiny arcs of electricity danced and flickered across its surface. Swiftly grabbing it between her index and middle fingers, Kazari propelled herself upwards, emerging from the water with a graceful leap. She leisurely made her way back to shore, using her free hand to wring out the water from her hair.

Archer and Iyexi approached Kazari, their curiosity evident as they gazed at the crystal. Meanwhile, Maila gasped in awe and exclaimed, "Holy shit! I've read about that! Unless I'm mistaken, that's a havok crystal. It's rumored to possess the ability to channel havok magic!"

Kazari's interest was instantly piqued. "Is that so? Hey, aren't we working on an art project soon?"

Finn nodded silently, and a spark of inspiration ignited within Kazari's mind.

"Interesting!"

Later that night...

Kazari retrieved a notebook and eagerly examined the crystal, analyzing its intricate details. With a focused determination, she began sketching and meticulously jotting down notes, immersing herself in the depths of her creativity.

But then, an unexpected interruption shattered her concentration.

"Huh?!" Kazari's eyes widened in surprise as she noticed the return of that strange distortion in the corner of her dorm room. Reacting swiftly, she leaped out of her seat, her heart pounding in her chest. The distorted blob began to take on a peculiar shape, but just as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished into thin air.

"Note to self, talk to Master Micah!"

[pbandjesse]

It was a nice day at work. I am feeling really tired tonight but I think that's mostly because I am cold. Very much ready to go to bed.

I slept alright last night but my nose was all stuffy and painful when I woke up and so I felt really really tired. James came and gave me a big hug as soon as I sat up after my alarm went off. It helped me feel better.

I got cleaned up and dressed. Wore the new crew neck my mom got me. I just wanted to be cozy. I was struggling a little. My fingers hurt really bad and I couldn't get my shoe on and James helped me because they love me and I was very grateful.

James and me left together. I always like watching them bike away. It was very cold today. Frosty. I'm glad it feels like winter.

I had a nice drive to camp. And got there alright at 8. I was happy to be inside where it was warm.

I had a productive morning. I had my breakfast and started working on writing up a description for the CIT program. I would use chatgbT to give me some framework and worked on using that to build up a really professional description. I am pretty pleased. I would print that and the schedule I made. Then decided to do more printing. I figure that since we are going to have a meeting about the 3 things we wanted to accomplish with John the consultant. Cit program, training, new programs.

Alexi would come in around 9. And everyone else would come in within the hour. Sarah worked on research for the training manual. I would go through some old documents and pulling things I think will be helpful. Games and reading and such.

It was a really productive morning though. I would take a walk to the lodge. I filled my water over there and chatted with Joe. He teased me about forgetting my stuffing from the holiday party, but I was glad to have my cookware back.

I looked at the books in the musuem. I went and looked at the nurses office because they are almost done fixing the roof. Very nice.

I would have lunch when I got back to the office. And while I was eating I decided I should come up with a document for meal ideas for dietary restrictions for the summer so I don't have to try and think of options when I'm very close to tears during the summer.

This would be like a two hour research project. Looking into other camps menus. I found an article about Jewish and 7th day Adventists camps and they had lots of options! So I researched how to make them vegan or gluten free or nut free. And I only had like 2 fake meat options.

After asking Heather, I found out where the kitchen orders their food from so I was able to compile links for ingredients. I was very proud of myself.

Once I was done that I had a zoom meeting with Hawa and Mike from the national guards and I'm thrilled that I have 2 workshops on the calendar with them now. One is a paint and sip style, that we are calling a "paint along", and the other I think will be a printmaking.

I had to make some invoices for them. And that took a minute. But that was just fine.

I would finish my day with designing some stickers ideas for each village. I had a lot of fun creating that. I want to play with the idea of merch for camp more. We will see if any of it actually gets used but still it's fun to design it.

I would also decide on my birthday countdown project. I'm going to do a sticker sheet/flash sheet, with a daily drawing. I'm excited. That will start on the 15th.

I said goodbye to everyone and would head out. I told Sarah I would check at Manor Mill for her last bowl while I was looking for my last 5 pieces. And it is such a quick drive over. I was happy to see my pieces. The colors weren't what I was expecting but I love love love my bear bowl. I'm going to keep my jewelery in it.

I went home and got here before James. I was happy to be home. I put some stuff away. And worked on sending some emails. James got home as I was starting to do my knitting for the day. I love how it looks so far. I know we are still really early in the project but I am setting a good precedent and already weaving in the ends. I will have to sew them down once the month is done but I am very pleased so far.

James would sit with me and tell me all about their day while I worked. And I would show them the documents I made and made me feel very smart and professional. I love my husband.

They got us frozen pizzas we could microwave for dinner. And after we ate they went to play DND with their friends. Well actually it's a different game but same idea. It was nice to see friends' faces.

I took a shower and washed my hair and now I am in bed in my cozy jumpsuit. I am very much ready to sleep.

I hope tomorrow is a good day. And I hope you all have fun. Stay safe. Wash your hands. I love you all.

[aerisleis-fics]

2023 Writing in Review

I did an ao3 wrapped thing and mostly this is closer to the art wrapped where its one piece from each month. Some months don't have pieces (and that's okay.) I also kind of want to take a moment to reflect on what I hope to accomplish next year and what I (feel like I) accomplished this year. That'll all go at the end.

Total number of works posted this year topped out at 36 choosing one work for each month was hard as hell. But I tried to choose the one I was most proud of or felt like I did something that stretched my skill in. This feels long so under a cut it goes.

January-March: Nothing posted. Creative hibernation, if you will.

April: Nightmares and Horrors (RWBY) Speculative Post Volume 8 ending. Ruby wakes up alone in an unfamiliar world, wounded, tired, and terrified. It doesn't get a lot better from there.

May: Aligned Between Us (FFVII) Zack and Cloud finally have a real conversation about everything. Also featuring Tifa being a good friend!

June: Beginning Where We Ended (FFVII) Instead of waking up in the church after his (near) death at the hands of Sephiroth’s remnants, Cloud wakes up on the wasteland outside of Midgar over two years before. Zack faces down Shinra’s infantry, and Cloud finds he has the strength to change history.

But to do that, Cloud has to face it all again, while warring with his own splintered psyche. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to do it alone, if only he’d remember that.

July: Moments of Peace (FFVII) Quick meeting with Reeve of the WRO and Tseng of the Turks, and then the Boys have a Night in the Costa Del Sol home before the rest of their trip.

August: Unrealistic Expectations (FFXV) After nearly failing the trial of the Tidemother, Noctis stands precariously balanced between his duty, his emotions, and his body’s need for rest. The Prince fails to heed Lunafreya’s warning about taking it easy, and his friends find the hard way that Noctis hasn’t been truthful with them.

September: What Makes a Monster (FFVII) With only hours separating Zack from the massacre of Nibelheim, he does the best he can to stop it from happening.

October: Saving the Hero (FFVII) A pair of scenes centering in on Sephiroth saving Zack, and Zack - in his own way - saving Sephiroth in return.

November: Recordings for Sleeping (FFVII) At first it had been disheartening - was he that boring to talk to? But over time, Zack had come to understand that it wasn’t that it was boring. It was that Sephiroth had come to associate Zack talking with a sense of peace and the fact that things were okay, so he could relax - and, subsequently, could rest. It was incredibly touching, now that Zack understood it better.

December: Pause, Rewind, Restart (FFVII) Cloud and Marlene are visiting the church when they find themselves pulled backward into the past. With no way back home, Cloud sets himself to doing the best he can to make sure that this future goes better than the one they came from because he can't just do nothing.

Reflections

This year was kind of wild, I ended up absolutely hip deep in a fandom I have loved for a really long time but avoided for a number of reasons. And I didn't just wade in slowly, no I dove right in and I'll admit I'm kind of having the time of my life. As can... probably seen by the sheer number of fics for that specific fandom that I've posted. I crossed the 75 fic marker this year! And I'm so close to the 100 fic marker that I'm vibrating. It feels big it feels like I've accomplished something.

In the new year I want to get better at interacting on my social media again. I want to post snippets and thoughts and ideas rather than just appearing for long enough to like. Drop the newest fic and disappearing into the void. I also, of course, look forward to writing (and finishing!) more projects. I've still got a lot sitting in wip land that I look forward to sharing with everyone.

I don't know what 2023 will hold but I'm thankful for all the support so far and I look forward to seeing where it brings me next year.

[dzpenumbra]

2/24/23

All of the progress I made yesterday. All of the momentum. All the insight and realization, the growth. The confidence I had. It has been crushed to a fine dust and tossed into the wind.

There was a big storm today. Something like 8 inches of snow.

I did yoga for the lower back today and it went okay. Humbling, but good.

I ate some food, I worked on another stone for a few hours. Quite a while, actually, now that I think about it, because I didn't get into the shower until probably... 5 or 6? Part of me was engrossed in the project, part of me was just... waiting for the expected call to coordinate about my car. To coordinate what the fuck I'm going to do for transportation because my car is broken down in a parking lot 100 miles away, unfixable (according to the people renting me the car I'm driving...). Just... waiting for the call. Which apparently... wasn't coming until... 6:30. On a snow day. The phone rang when I was in the shower, after I just gave up, assuming the call just wasn't coming.

After getting myself quickly clothed, I called back. It went dark quick. I mean, fuckin quick. She was trying to tell me that there were no cars that fit the bill in the state, essentially. And just... putting it out there like that... like... "welp, now what". I have no clue what the fuck she was expecting me to say or do. So, after a bit of info gathering on what the hell was going on... I opened up a Notepad document and, with her, started two columns regarding the car - My Parameters and Her Parameters. My parameters - electric preferred, if viable. Her parameters - Lease, New, few prior owners, manufactured within the past 2 years, there was another one but I deleted the document. How deluded would I have to be to think that I actually have agency in this situation? Let me be very direct here. The... empty space... that she was leaving when she said "oh my, it looks like there are no electric cars in the state!" Was directly to pressure me to resign the only agency I had in the choosing of my own vehicle, to pressure me to cave on that, to adjust my parameter. Without even looking at her other conditions, which she also didn't run by me.

Now... I grew up in this shit. This looked very normal my entire life. Like... "oh, well I'm just not going to pay for you to buy a car that's going to break in 6 months". Which is coming from someone who has only owned one used car one time in her life, when Carter was in fucking office. And, in her own story, the car broke because of her error of trying to run the windshield wipers without cleaning off the windshield first, and burning out the motor. You cannot fucking make this shit up.

I don't even want to get into the next 2 hours. It got bad. A bit of bringing out the old fan favorite "spoiled". That was fun. Yeah, nothing says spoiled like being scared shitless of telling your landlord that the washing machine and oven broke down because of PTSD from your fucked up family, so you just... I shit you not... live without an oven or washing machine for 4 months. I hand-washed my clothes in the bathtub for 4 months because the shame and guilt I felt. And I get called spoiled. I wonder where the complex came from.

I'm tired of censoring this. I'm tired of hiding this in order to protect the person who is hurting me very deeply. I want to say this out loud. At several points tonight, I made it very clear that I was being very deeply hurt, in ways that are hard to even put into words. Like... taking someone who is afraid of water and giving them a swirlie. Like taking someone who is afraid of spiders and dunking their head in a cardboard box full of spiders. And I explained very clearly, several times, that I wanted my notifications I was passing along during the conversation to be like a bottom third on a news channel, a ticker that is displaying a message: "Breaking News: this is extremely unhealthy, this is hurting your son in ways that you can't really comprehend, this is causing the damage which basically... refreshes the cooldown on his trauma symptoms, his avoidance, his hiding for safety from a dangerous world." I reminded her of it several times. It was as though I didn't even speak. In fact, most of the "conversation" was as though I didn't speak. I would ask direct, clear questions and just get silence. I would ask direct, clear questions and get responses that had nothing to do with the question. I would get complete topic changes out of the blue to just... dismantle everything I was saying. It was... I'm struggling to find the word. Unempowering? Like... Like in a nightmare when you are trying to speak and you can't speak. Only you can... but you might as well have not. Like... no shit this is my biggest recurring nightmare.

I used to stay in these conflicts out of a deep, primal fear of being abandoned. Being alone. But now I've been alone so long that I don't even care. This was because of my ability to have transportation, my own safety and security- which are clearly high priorities for me. And the transportation concerns are concerns that she talked me into. I was wrapping my head around the idea of being a bus rider from now on, trying to adjust to it. It's probably not the end of the world, I'd get used to it pretty quick. She insisted it was not safe, and insisted on leasing me a car. I said... if that is happening, I want it to be electric. Not for fashion or politics, because it seems more economic, and it seems like the tech shift is moving in that direction. And because of that... it should be easier to get replacement parts. Shit like that. It made sense to me. And, I mean... I'm going to drive it... so... I don't really know why it's anyone else's pick. If I pick something outside of a reasonable budget, don't fucking buy it. Duh. But if your only job is to finance this? Why the fuck are you deciding what car I'm getting too?

What I'm seeing as the theme under all of this? Fear.

I brought this up in the conflict, I've wanted to talk about it really bad but it just hasn't really come up fully. I want to really devote some of my work to it, like art pieces and shit. I feel like that's exactly where my carving and making sacred objects path is taking me. This idea of gods being the... personification of concepts. Death. Love. War. Fear. Stuff like that. And prayer to those gods? What is prayer? What is devotion to gods? Time? Thought? Intention? Like... what actually is devotion in practice. Like, I get the whole faith as a "loyalty" or "fealty" or something. Like "I align with this tribe" or whatever. Never really understood the point of that, but that makes sense with me being an exiled hermit. Hard to relate to the usefulness of that on a spiritual level, I just don't have the experience. But what interests me... is the practices of devotion. What we give to deities as representations of our faith. And in return for our devotions, our sacrifices, the things we give these deities... they give us blessings. Right? That's the whole thing? We earn their favor by giving them time, thought, energy, sacrifice, giving them a home in our lives. In our physical homes (through symbols, altars, totems, etc.), in our hearts (through sentiments, values), and in our minds (through consciously aligning our intentions with the deity's aspect, their qualities).

So... most of the people who do this kind of thing that I'm going to talk about are atheists... so a lot of them they get really upset when you talk about thinking this way... And it feels like this form of polytheism isn't... that common nowadays? (maybe that's part of the problem...) But what I'm seeing is this... driving force of repetition of the same emotions or concepts underlying. A motivational force. God, I'm being really vague and abstract, let me clarify. I see people sabotaging themselves like 10 times in one paragraph. "I made this art piece today. It's probably garbage, I hate it, but it's there. I don't know why I bother anymore. Oh well, hope you like it." Stuff like that. There's one example, like... clear-cut depression, right? Or, for my mom... Fear. I hint at leasing a car that's 3 years old and she immediately goes to "that car will break down and fall apart and it's going to be expensive and he's going to die." (not sure about the last part, she really didn't seem concerned about my safety or wellbeing at any point today...) So... the connection I'm kinda getting at here... Is that the artist in the first example... is essentially worshipping the God of Depression. Every sentence is either a tribute to the essential concept of Depression, saturated with the feelings of it, spoken through the lens of it, or immediately followed up with it in order to "ground" it. It's like a fucking summoning spell for depression. And the worst part? Being depressed makes you summon more depression. The same with Fear. The more afraid you are, the more afraid you are. And it snowballs super fucking quick.

That's why all the little gestures towards the "gods" - if you don't like the word, if it carries bad connotations, then... try "intentions" or "concepts" instead - all those gestures would probably bring much more function if you intentionally summoned "gods" that you actually do want in your life. Like... okay, let's say the artist above, who was an example inspired by at least a dozen people I've encountered in my life nearly verbatim, let's say their true value that they want to manifest in that expression... is being a cool, confident, respected storyteller. (Kinda projecting here... XD) So... why not summon that? Why not take some time and study how to summon that spirit, that... personality? How to be that character. Like... learning a role for a play, if you've ever done that before. Take a little time to really... learn how it feels to have those intentions present in a moment like the example above. And then, when it's time to present your next drawing? Tap into that. Tap into the spirit of what you want to be. Put your energy, your thought, your heart, your actions... intentionally, deliberately towards what you are seeking to achieve. What god you seek to summon. That is the value of mindfulness, of present awareness, of "noticing". It's subtle, but it's profoundly impactful. Not because of what it is, per se, but what it allows you to do.

So, basically... be mindful of what gods you are summoning. Because... you might just get what you ask for. If you devote all your time and energy to fixating on and... operating with the central tenet being... Fear or Sorrow. It should not be a surprise when you find that god appreciates your alignment, and gives you their blessing. More of the same.

I have no idea if any of that makes sense. It makes sense to me, but I've been immersed in the evolution of this concept for a very long time. This concept is one that I introduced into my life back in 2017. It was done through a D20 Modern campaign I was designing surrounding gods that functioned in this kind of way. Actual deities that existed in different dimensions than we can really understand or experience? But had influence on the world through... us. The one I was fixating on at the time was one I named Knorim, the god of illusion, grief and time. And his effects on the world were more... mind-altering... like almost psychedelic, hallucinatory, dream-like... I just watched Batman Begins last night, like that, like the whole Scarecrow/Ra's al Ghul thing. And the effects of his presence are summoned by... worshipping his aspects. Specifically by experiencing unresolved trauma, and dealing with trauma in unhealthy ways. Carrying accumulated trauma, fighting it, repressing it, projecting it... all basically like saying a prayer in a confessional, or an Eldritch cult member chanting before an altar, and the god bestowing their "blessing" in kind. And the effects grow not just within that person, but over time... they become a beacon for Knorim's influence. They start to radiate that hallucinatory effect to people nearby them, people close to them, then to people just... in physical proximity to them. And the infection spreads. And if things go bad? If these hallucinatory effects lead to breakups? Or fights? Or worse... The trauma multiplies exponentially.

Pretty fuckin messy, huh? And I came up with my own custom psychology and aura game mechanics for the D+D campaign to have this be an... unspoken part of the entire group dynamic. If one person deals with trauma in what was essentially... a ghost-hunting tourist trap gone wrong... like an Alan Wake kinda setting... if one person in the party doesn't sit down and deal with what they went through realistically, and really emotionally process it... like a real person going through a real trauma. It will grow and affect the team members. It will debilitate them, and the debilitating factors will make threats more dangerous, will make outcomes completely unpredictable, will eventually lead to them losing much of their faculties and functionality, and end up dependent on the people who they were hindering. And the more players get affected by this? The worse it gets. The deeper into the bad trip they go. So, basically, if they don't roleplay being actual people, they are going to be absolutely miserable and useless. If they treat their characters with loving kindness, like real people, and are gentle with them psychologically. Not recklessly jumping into traumatic situations. Caring for each other and helping each other recover. Bonding. Healing. If they play it like deep, immersive roleplay... they will have a once-in-a-lifetime experience. If they play it like a game, they will progressively lose their ability to participate. And riding that edge between the two? That's where the gold is.

I have told one person... maybe two... about this campaign in 5 years. I am typing this because I don't think I'll ever have friends to play it. Who knows. I kept silent because... I really can't spoil it for the players. If they know this element is present? They will try to min-max it. It will destroy itself. They need to feel it. They need to feel the effects. And, in an ideal world, they would get through the entire campaign having absolutely no idea that the influence of a god was even present. It was just some crazy shit that happened, and thank god we survived, and look at how close we became along the way. Like all good horror survival stories.

So yeah. I hope that kind of thing clarifies the theory I've been tossing around. This idea of like... live and act by the principles you are intentionally trying to bring into your own life, into the world. I am not even close to a good example of this, I have been working very hard on it, but I still have a long road ahead of me. But my heart is in the right place. And that's a big help.

Before I go...

I went skating tonight. Yeah. I mentioned that it was a snow day. There was a lot of snow out. I didn't go skating because I was waiting on this phone call. The end result of the phone call, by the way? The only plan I have here... with my balls gingerly placed in a Cuisinart... is to take the rental back down south and take the bus back up. The closest the bus comes to my apartment is about 3 miles away. The early bus gets in at 5:30 PM. I will 100% be walking back to my apartment alone, in a city, 3 miles, in the snow. So I better fucking stretch, and hope no one jacks my phone.

Okay, got that out of my system. I went skating. The sidewalks were completely covered. It was... like nothing I had ever done before. I skated the sidewalks. Just normal sidewalks. And did ollies and shuvits and manuals and shit. The hills were perfect for it. Just the right incline to carry speed. Though the snow was a bit slow... and I didn't get to tune my board first. I was too emotionally distraught. I just... put my contacts in, got water and fuckin went before I could talk myself out of it. Because it was like 10:30 when I went out. I went over to the other side of the park for the first time and I saw a 4 set. It was wider than the one in the park itself. I just hopped right up to the top and bombdropped it. Easy. Then I got settled in there and got ready to session this thing. After my second try... just getting a feel for the snow and the distance... I shit you not... a cop SUV pulled in to the rotary parking lot and just... posted up. Lights off, just chilling there like 30 feet away from me. I was just like... okay...

I tried 2 more attempts. The second one was a clean land. And I had a big shit-eating grin on my face. I was so fucking happy. It was such a good feeling. Like... I wasn't even planning on skating stairs today, and I can stick that 4th try. That's a hell of a feeling.

I went to cross the street and skate the park... when some chick was yelling at me from the sidewalk I had left. I paused my music, she was asking if I was snowboarding. I came back over and showed her my board and explained what it is. I offered it to her if she wanted to ride, she immediately got on and made her way down the entire hill. I was impressed. She picked it up really quickly. Frankie, I think she said her name was. I don't know. She was a college student, I'd wager. Which is... still a bit odd now that there's that much of an age gap. It looked like she was out with a friend getting drinks, as her friend came out and called her in because her... drink was ready? Weird thing to say... Welp... I introduced myself and went off and tried to skate the park itself. The park was completely unpacked powder that was like at least 6-7 inches. I did a few runs across the flat to pack the snow in, in case I want to go back and skate it tomorrow, but it was pretty unskateable how it was. So I went back over to the first sidewalk I skated. I liked it. It was a bit more gradual than the other one. And one run in, the cop posted up again. I spent the next like... 40 minutes? Practicing lines with the cop watching me. Ollie then shuvit. Manual shuv out. I tried half-cab, but I had trouble doing it at speed. Landed some really clean flat-ground kickflips, and started to get the heelflip back. Nothing crazy impressive, but really good solid fundamentals in a more... fluid environment. Snowskating is a lot more... set up in front of an obstacle and do something on it. You don't often get to do full runs. So to kinda cruise and do lines, and just throw tricks on random terrain, like skateboarding? It's pretty rare, at least for me. So, though I didn't land anything too impressive (other than the 4-set, that was clean as hell and I really want to pat myself on the back for it, I was right above the board the entire time), the style of skating I got to do tonight was a rarity. And I'm very glad I went out.

But here's what got me. The cop. Yep. It really fucked with me. I was literally being watched, being judged, by an authority figure that likely thought the worst of me and was just waiting for me to fuck up so they can punish me. The entire time. That's what my PTSD said. And I tried to just listen to my music and focus on my skating. I tried to tell myself, "the worst has already passed." But I did not feel safe. I just... did not feel safe. And I don't like that.

What I was thinking as I was just... speed-walking back to my apartment in a post-exercise daze... was "I really wish that cop would have just gotten out of their car and come up to me and said 'hey man, I'm gonna be parked over here keeping an eye out for shit, you know, just doing my job... I'm not like... waiting for you to fall and then kick you out because you're being too dangerous or anything... I might even watch you a little bit, if that's okay. Oh, and... how is your night, citizen? Are you well?' And I go, "Officer, I just had one of the worst nights of my life. And I just want to do something that makes me feel like life is worth living. And like I am talented and capable of doing something that brings good into the world. It might seem stupid, but it means a lot to me. I hope I'm not disturbing people with this", and they go "Wow blahblahblah holy shit I don't need your life story, what the fuck dude." Then they confiscate my board because it's "close enough" to a skateboard and send me home with a $300 ticket for vandalizing public snow.

I might have catastrophized that a bit at the end there. For real, I really wish the cop just said hi and let me know they weren't watching me. Because there was a moment when some dude just pulled off the rotary and parked right next to where I was skating for seemingly no reason... for like 5 whole minutes... and I was a bit sketched out. And it would've been much nicer for me to know whether the cop was watching my back, or watching me. You know? But with all the anti-cop sentiment lately, I don't blame them for keeping their distance and not extending that sentiment. I don't blame them at all. It just would've meant a lot to me to have an authority figure care about my night a bit, rather than lurk as an unseen force in the darkness waiting to pounce. It made relaxing and skating a lot harder.

Not a lot of good vibes to be found here. Just that young chick, who took the time out of her night to share her genuine excitement with me. And was probably hitting on me and I was probably completely oblivious and really not into it. Good lord, I don't have to sabotage the only good vibes here. I landed the 4 set. I introduced a new person to snowskating. I had an in-person social interaction that was very natural, very comfortable and I was actually very confident and encouraging. It showed me the other face of the world, the face that has been hidden from me for so long. The normal people interactions. That aren't fights. That aren't therapy sessions with legal boundaries. Just... friendly interactions in the wild.

Here's to building a healthy foundation to support more of those. And the courage and security to safely walk away from the toxic ones.

[fraener]

1/19/23

what to say first....cried a lot about my grandmother. some part of me hasn’t caught up to the fact that she didn’t die that winter she told me she was sick. i was thinking about her mother’s coat. i miss her so much, i miss sleeping in her house and hearing her speaking quietly in the morning through the wall or downstairs. i am feeling rather low lately. my life is very empty. her advice is to always be moving, always be doing something new. but even in the hours on hours i lose in the studio thoughts find me. reina talks about me and hans nearly nonstop through the school days always just a few feet away from me. i can tell shes afraid to get grouped with me for activities or anything like that. she makes a large display of pretending im not there. i had two dreams where she made up with me and we were closer than ever, and then one where she was cursing me and i could hear her speaking the spell aloud. el is still in nz, shes not getting back till mid february at the soonest. a moment ago i saw a picture of simon and almost cried. i miss him so much. my heart is still broken from that. that, over and over, that forever. i havent been talking to o. even though im so lonely and isolated and tired i hardly have time for anything but school anyways. i often wonder what i am bringing with me from this part of my life. what will i leave with? what skills, friends, lovers? what belongings? i wish i could see ahead and know what i would discern later as the important parts and the unimportant parts. my heart feels terribly weak these days. aching, washed out. is there anything now that will mend me? i miss gardening. i love hans but its different to how i love simon. i feel like hans is a wonderful beautiful companion on a similar path to mine, i feel like he understands and can hold so much more of me than anyone. ive been able to explore so much because of him. everything feels temporary these days. the only deeprooted constants are far and hard to find under the mud of eclipsing moments...im tired of writing about interpersonal relationships/other people in my journal. today i ate lunch behind the campus police precinct. i pulled handles that were good enough off of the bc6 which is a much easier clay to work with in general than the recycled stuff. i threw 8 times with the same hunk of recycled clay. i threw two halves of a vessel with the bc6 as a test for size, both just under 3lbs of clay. the fog was creeping around when i left for school this morning and i was in a bad mood. the moss is rich and reaching. had a hard time deciding what to eat for breakfast so i had a banana with nutella because the milk claims to be off. been having heart palpitations and i read a quick poem i wrote in class. my legs got very sore from throwing today, way more than anything else. also my left pointer finger, first joint, outside edge of right hand, right bicep, and dear god my knees. especially the foot i keep on the pedal, im straining so hard to keep still when i pull the clay up that its causing a weird torque in my shin. i made a whistle last night that works from looking at the mouthpart of a different whistle. i wish we had more time for these projects, theres so much i want to make and work on for a long time and see through slowly. i want to do an ilc with evan some time, maybe next quarter ill be able to plan my own project and work through it quietly and at my own pace. i hope by then my relationship to the studio will be less strained. i almost want to start wearing headphones in there but i use the sound of the wheel to know the right speed to be at so its a tough decision. theres a lot i need to disengage with right now so i can have the space to breathe and practice the activities that are fulfilling to me

[issaxcharlie]

Spectacular!

Pairing: Alive! Luke Patterson x Fem Reader

Summary: Inspired by Nickelodeon’s Spectacular! Luke Patterson needs the money for his bands demo, and miraculously, that same night he gets an offer to fix his problem. The catch? Rockstar boy has to join his school’s show choir and put up with their fearless Female Lead Singer. (don’t come here searching for accuracy remember it’s inspired by a movie)

Note: I had a lot of fun with this one, hope you like it! Oh and it’s a little long so keep it in mind +8k👀💜

Say this is not her scene would be to fall short, but she has to make sacrifices to find greatness. The first thing she notices when she walks into the little club, is that it's packed. The people look excited and somewhat desperate and she doesn't blame them. The pamphlet marked they were supposed to start at 8:00 p.m. and it's already 8:40. She makes her way carefully until she finds a perfect place in the middle of the room.

The musicians take the stage visibly anxious, especially Alex who cannot stop moving his hands trying to probably calm himself down. Reggie and the rhythm guitarist take their positions. They look at each other one last time before beginning to play the enveloping sound of the pop-rock song. The bass line sounds insane and she hasn't heard Alex play drums in years, he’s exceptional. They could both play without their singer all night and she wouldn't mind.

The space in the center of the stage that belongs to who she came to see today, completely empty. The bassist seems about to take the first verse when Sunset Curve lead guitarist and vocalist Luke Patterson appears on stage.

She has seen him multiple times in the hallways laughing with her childhood best friend, Alex Mercer and her lab partner, Reggie Peters, but she has never spoken directly to him. Still, it's hard not to notice how handsome he is and how much of a charismatic personality he has.

“I'm living my life just the way I like, they say I get a little too loud. Try to push me in a box, over analyze. But I'm never gunna turn it down”

His voice is enchanting and mesmerizing, a sound that immediately reminds her of the best rockers in history and his movements and energy are electrifying. In seconds the entire audience is jumping and dancing to the beat.

“They say never and I say right now!” Y/N analyzes him excitedly. The passion with which he sings and plays his guitar reminds her of when she is on stage, although the two of them dedicate themselves to totally different things, their love for music is the same. She definitely has a lot of work to do to polish him and make him the perfect performer she needs, but if there's anyone who can accomplish the impossible, it's her.

“No one's gonna stop me tonight! Thank you, we are Sunset Curve, tell your friends!” The presentation ends and Sunset Curve leaves the stage. The girl moves quickly to catch up with them at the back of the club, but when she finally arrives, screams can be heard from two of the members of the band.

“I know you don’t like me, Bobby. But trying to sabotage the show by giving me the wrong time is just the most stupidest thing you've ever done!” The guitarist looks furious, his muscles are really tense and Y/N can't help staring at his biceps way more than she probably should.

"This fight of egos between the two of you has to stop, we can no longer continue to be in the middle." The bassist cries out, tired of all the bickering.

“You no longer have to, Reggie. It’s time to decide. The lousy rocker or me. Remember that the money for the demo is mine before choosing... I'm not sure Patterson's lyrics can compete without the money to record them.”

The guitarist looks down at the ground, a mixture of anger and sadness on his face. Alex and Reggie turn to see each other for a second and then position themselves on either side of Luke, no sign of doubt on their faces.

“We’ll find a way without you. Let’s see If you find one without us.” Reggie declared with a little smirk. Bobby grabs his stuff and gets into his truck without looking back, completely furious.

"Some things Bobby was angry about are true and you have to improve them. You are not a solo artist, you are part of a band." Alex points to Luke as soon as the truck is out of sight, but before he can respond the blonde intercepts the girl at the door.

“Y/N?” The three of them turn to see her, Reggie smiles at her while Luke looks pissed off.

“Hey guys, I came to talk to Luke.” Luke frowns in surprise while the other two gape for a few seconds.

"Really?” Y/N turns with a murderous face towards her friend, who puts his hands in his pockets and begins to walk. “...Okay. Meanwhile Reg and I are going to figure out how to get the drums in Luke's car."

"If you come for an autograph please be quick, I don't feel like socializing." The guitarist declares to the wind, not wanting to pay attention to the stranger who approaches him in the middle of the alley, no matter how cute she looks.

“I’m not a fan.” She confesses in a firm voice, trying to measure the situation.

"Oh, then I'll go. See you later beautiful." He's about to leave when her voice stops him.

“Patterson, come back here!” There's something about her tone that makes Luke suddenly interested. He turns to see her carefully, her chin is up, her shoulders back. Her lips are press together and her eyes look determined and he can't help but admit that the confidence she projects is really doing something to him.

“2 minutes, firecracker.”

“I’m Y/N Y/L.” Faced with no comment from the guitarist, she decides to continue. “I need a male lead singer for my group and I think you might be the perfect fit, after I'm done with you, of course."

He’s unable to believe what he hears. “A band? I think you know pretty well I'm already in one.”

“It’s not a band, it’s a group. THE group If I can say so myself. Spectacular!” She affirms with the first smile he sees her that night, and he can't believe it is possible that she can look even more beautiful.

"Don't you think you're exaggerating a bit with the spectacular thing? At least tell me the name or what kind of band is." She rolls her eyes and he chuckles in response, thinking it was adorable and hot at the same time.

“I already told you, Spectacular! It’s a show choir.”

“Is this a joke? Did Bobby sent you?”

“No and no. I know it’s not really your style, but I’m telling you I can make it work. I heard a bit of the conversation you had with the band, the prize of Nationals is 10,000 dollars. I'm willing to give you half for the demo, if we win, obviously. And I can assure you we will if you accept and do absolutely everything I say.”

“Firecracker, are you trying to tell me that all I have to do to raise the money is put on some stupid cowboy or tiger-print outfit and humiliate myself in front of an entire audience with my best jazz hands? Wow, sounds like a dream!” Maybe he got a bit too sarcastic, but meh, as pretty as she is, she's still a stranger.

“My name is Y/N, and I'm not appreciating your tone of voice.” By this moment the girl seems tired of the musician, who feels the frustration in her and tries to be more gentle.

“I- I’m sorry. Thanks for the offer, but I don't feel as desperate yet as to end my reputation in that way. I hope you find what you are looking for, but that’s just not me. I'm just a guitarist.” She nods, entwining her arms against her chest. He admires her for a few more seconds and turns to his car, where his friends are already waiting for him to help with the drums.

Before getting behind the wheel he turns to her one last time, but she is nowhere to be seen.

Fights between Luke and Bobby weren't new to the band. The big-headed attitude of both collided practically all the time and things had been getting worse in recent months with the more overconfident attitude of the guitarist, but they never imagined that they would end up in this situation.

The days go by and the boys are running out of time. They have to deliver the demo to the Orpheum offices in two months so that they can be taken into account for the great concert they will hold at the end of the year presenting the best new talents in the city. All they've heard from Bobby is that he's trying to build his own band but without much success. Still, he doesn’t fold his hands and continues to try on his own.

The three remaining members of Sunset Curve are in Alex's room lying on the floor with their instruments around trying to think of solutions, when Y/N's voice coming from outside refreshes the blonde's memory. “What did Y/N want to talk to you the other day?”

“Who?” Luke narrows his eyes in confusion.

“Y/N? The captain of the school’s show choir? She went to talk to you after Bobby left the band. Small, fire in her eyes, a lot of attitude.”

“OH, Firecracker! So that group is our school's choir? that's even worse. She tried to recruit me, even offered me the money for the demo if we win the competition in which they will participate.”

“What? She wants you in Spectacular? What did you said?” Alex heard that his friend's ex-boyfriend broke up with her and joined last year's national champions, but he never imagined that she would try to replace him with someone like Luke. Luke is distracted by a melody and doesn’t answer his friend's question.

"Why does your mom always leave her music on when she leaves to work?" The music is definitely not his style, they are always usually pop songs or even songs from musicals, but the singer's voice is one of the most beautiful he has ever heard so it never bothers him.

“It’s not her music, is Y/N.” Alex responds, wondering what the young woman is up to since she is never usually home at this hour.

“Who?” Alex's eyes widen, not able to believe his friend.

“Really? I already told you!” The guitarist tilts his head and shrugs. “Firecracker?”

“What does firecracker have to do with this?” Alex opens his balcony curtains and the silhouette of a young woman singing and dancing through her transparent pink ones comes to their visions.

“She’s so good bro, I thought it was a record too.” Reggie looks at her with a big smile as Alex rolls his eyes at Luke.

As soon as he sees her, the musician is in a trance, admiring the grace and energy with which she moves, wanting with all his might to remove the pink curtain that does not allow him to see her properly.

The song ends and a well-known melody begins to play with prominent bass and drums. “Guys, shut up! I’m trying to hear her sing.”

“It’s not us, man.” Reggie answers almost screaming with how loud the girl’s music is.

“What do you-” Luke turns around and sees his friends with their hands raised, the cables finally connecting in his brain. "She is listening our song?"

"Not just listening, she's also destroying your career, her vocals are amazing." The black-haired boy adds, smirking and running to connect his bass.

Luke excitedly opens the balcony window and sings the pre-chorus as loud as he can to get the singer's attention. “Call me in the morning to apologize, every little lie gives me butterflies.” She immediately turns around and smiles at the guitarist's cocky smile. She opens the curtain and the window and her sunset curve t-shirt is the first thing the band notices.

“Something in the way you're looking through my eyes, don't know if I'm gonna make it out alive.” Luke sings seductively towards her, each word fully dedicated to the woman in front of him.

Reggie accompanies them with his bass while Alex looks at his friends incredulously, an "Are you fucking kidding me." Comes out of the blonde almost like a whisper when he identifies the shirt that the girl wears as his.

Both sing the chorus together and the chemistry is unquestionable. Alex had never thought of this two together because at first glance they seem completely different, but thinking about it a little more deeply they couldn't be more similar. They are both passionate, headstrong, live for the stage, and are ridiculously talented and confident.

“Fight so dirty, but you love so sweet. Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth. Late night devil, put your hands on me. And never, never, never ever let go.”

The performance between the duo is playful, driving, sexy and intense and Alex and Reggie can't help but feel like they're interrupting a private moment. As soon as the song ends, the girl moves closer to the window, blows them a kiss and closes it.

"Where did that woman come from?" Luke whispers as he tries to catch his breath. Nobody had enchanted him so much just by singing, well, nobody had enchanted him, period. But she’s definitely something.

“She has been my neighbor since we were 6 years old, we used to be best friends but we both drifted apart when we entered high school. She’s amazing, the best performer in the city.” Alex informs him and then Reggie adds his own piece of valuable information. “She’s my lab partner. Fun, smart, beautiful, the whole deal. A true gem.”

“Answering your question, I said no to her offer. But I guess the group of someone this rad can't be that bad. And we really need the money." The drummer purses his lips and nods. His friend definitely took the hook.

"Honestly, I always wanted to audition, I guess the three of us could try in, to support you obviously."

“Of course man, she sounded desperate when she asked, and if the shirt and song is any indication she is definitely a huge Sunset Curve fan. She tried to fool me by saying she wasn't a groupie, as if that was possible after seeing us perform.”

His friends leave the house and Alex plays on the drums the secret signal he had with the girl when they were younger, a minute later the girl appears in her window with an amusing smile, dressed in her classic blue pajamas.

“Really?” The drummer chuckled and his friend’s smile grows even bigger, a little laugh leaving her lips. “The shirt was a nice touch. A little much, but that idiot must have fallen for it completely. I want it back by the way.”

“You can see right through me. You know the invitation is open, right? I would love nothing more than to have you there.” He has known her his whole life, and realized early on that she was just trying to get his friend's attention to reconsider her offer by raising his ego, and he honestly doesn't mind. It's about time Luke met someone of his caliber. Perhaps her influence could do him good.

“I- thank you. I guess we’ll see. See you tomorrow.” She blows him a kiss and closes the window. Tomorrow sure is going to be an interesting day, Sunset Curve joins Spectacular.

Having to face Spectacular! And telling them they still don't have a male lead singer who can compete against Damian was not easy. Her options are running out and she honestly doesn't know what to do to save them.

Damian on stage is the best, it pains her to admit that she has never seen anyone like him. At first she thought she could continue without him, but it’s becoming increasingly obvious that he is just impossible to replace.

Everyone continues to practice the routine, clearly discouraged after her bad news and it honestly breaks her heart. She knows how much the group means to everyone for different and personal reasons and she can't let them lose this. So whatever she has to do, she’ll do it so they can have the leader they deserve.

“I thought the children in the choir would have more energy, this is just sad, firecracker.” She hides her wide smile before turning to the owner of the voice, who is entering the auditorium with his best friends. Money really talks, otherwise she can't explain what would make him appear here.

“Dude, can you please play nice? This is important!” Reggie looks flustered and scolds Luke probably louder than he planned. The guitarist just ignores him and winks shamelessly at her. Seems her little plan from yesterday was successful, now she just has to play the situation in her favor.

“Mercer, Peters... Patterson. Can we help you with something?” The performer shows a perfect poker face, Spectacular continues to practice but they can't help but turn their attention to the rock band.

“I came to accept your proposal, but only If we can include Reggie and Alex in the deal. I guess as long as I’m in whatever I ask shouldn't be a problem." He crosses his arms and gives her a confident smile.

“I could actually do with a few more members, specially as talented as Reg and Alex. As for you, you've already turned down my offer Lucas, but if for some reason you don't graduate this year, make sure you audition the next one. Now, let’s start boys." Y/N moves within inches of Luke to gently close his open mouth with her index finger, and gives him a small wink before turning and taking the other two musicians each on each arm and pulling them closer to where the group is still practicing.

“Y/N, you can’t be serious.” The skilled singer continues to ignore him as she explains to her new members something Luke can't quite hear.

The musician frustrates and walks until he is directly in front of her. “Y/N” He groans.

“I'm not firecracker anymore? That is just sad.” Luke looks upset, but she's determined to not let him have what he wants after what he said at the club, so if he wants the money that bad he's going to have to prove it.

“I’m going to explain you something quickly so you can go and stop wasting my time. I’ve seen your band play, I know how good these two are at singing, which means I don't need you anymore, nor do I have to put up with your rockstar wannabee attitude. I need someone that I can connect with and have the chemistry that leaves everyone forgetting how to breathe, and after yesterday, I just don't think that's you.” Right now she is grateful to be such a good actress because yesterday's act melted her legs, even though they were separated by the balconies. This man is unreal, totally unfair.

"I do, I wouldn't be surprised if they kissed at any moment." The bassist whispers as Alex looks at him with an incredulous face, he just slowly shakes his head from side to side and continues to see the leader of their band and their new leader in a starting contest, is kind of an amusing sight since Luke is definitely not used to having to face someone like him.

“It’s like you said, you are just a guitarist. Thinking you could handle something like this was ridiculous of me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a group to direct."

Y/N hopes she hasn't pushed the rockstar too much, but remains firm in her tactics and turns to the others to continue with the rehearsal. She signals them to put the most similar song to the Sunset Curve sound that she can remember at the moment to make Alex and Reggie feel more calm and to see if she finishes catching Luke’s interest, who still doesn’t move from where he is with his eyes fixed on her, which she takes as as a good sign.

The moment the song start, both sunset curve members smile, and Luke's voice is heard from behind. “So you're the girl, I heard the rumor.” He sounds powerful and captivating and immediately sets everyone's eyes on him. She doesn’t give him the luxury of turning to see him, but he is not going to give up and in a quick and agile movement he turns her by the hand.

“Why don't you break my heart, make it hurt so bad. Come on give it your best, nothing less, I insist, I want it just like that.” The girl should have thought more about her choice before asking for a song like this. Every word that comes out of the musician's mouth is addressed directly to her with an intensity in his eyes and movements that should be illegal.

She tries to get out of his way but he makes it pretty clear that he's not singing to prove himself to the group, he's doing it to prove something to her. Specifically, to prove her wrong.

“Stare me down, intimidate me. Oh baby please you'll never break me.” He comes dangerously close to her, basically inches apart, his eyes fixed on her lips and smiling flirtatiously as he sings, his eyes glinting mischievously.

She enters the song so as not to make him feel like she’s defeated and starts dancing with him to the rhythm, their movements matching effortlessly as they move across the stage.

She pulls herself back as far as she can, but Luke surprises everyone by doing a body roll on the floor, his arms looking more gorgeous than ever in that sleeveless shirt as they take the full weight of his body without any problem, his eyes never losing contact with hers. All the girls start to do small screams while Y/N's cheeks turn red at her thoughts. He slides on his knees towards her and gets up as he puts his foot on her to make her lose balance and catch her right at the end of the song.

“Why don’t you break my heart.” They've been in a trance since the song started and it's like it's just the two of them in the auditorium. Their lips are almost touching, neither willing to give up eye contact or move from their current position, until the applause and shouts of excitement bring them back to reality.

“I have chemistry with everybody that I sing with, firecracker.” He whispers to her lips before shifting the girl's full weight to his right arm to raise his left one to her face and carefully close her mouth with his finger, winking with a cocky smile before lifting her up.

Immediately everyone begins to advocate for him with all kinds of arguments that ranged from how sensual he was to how much of a presence he had on stage. Her best friend’s comment is the one that catches his attention the most. "You have even more chemistry with him than Damian, I didn't think it was possible." That definitely sounds interesting.

Y/N pretends to listen to her teammates before saying Luke can enter the group. The truth is that she knew from the first moment she saw him perform with Sunset Curve that he was a star, but this facet without the guitar and irradiating passion from his pores was something that left her speechless.

Still, she knew all the work that would go into preparing the band and it really was exhausting. For them to understand that they couldn't just sing like they do at the club, that there are rules to follow, dance steps they have to learn, facial expressions they have to master, notes they have to hit perfectly, wasn’t easy but they succeeded.

Along the way, she regained her bond with Alexander, her friendship with Reggie grew stronger, and each day she felt closer to Luke. She has been practicing a duet with him for weeks now, and the chemistry that they have set to burn the stage more than once. It was hard for her to ignore how the guitarist's hands feel on her thighs as he lifts her or the way he wraps himself around her, breathing softly down her neck or brushing his lips teasingly over her cheekbone. Both are very physical to show affection so small contacts such as hugs or caresses, as well as small kisses on the cheek or hand were very recurrent. They had also gone out multiple times alone and with their friends, from the cinema, the park, to see them play, to small parties at home, to midnight talks.

Reggie was the one who had her alone the most because they were lab partners, but no matter how hard the bassist tried to get information from the girl, he never succeeded. The truth is that not even she knows what is happening with the guitarist, she is for the first time in her life letting herself be carried away and enjoying the moment, and she’s loving it.

Luke and Alex are in detention after the brown haired boy made a mess in the classroom by putting together a little concert with the help of the blonde, and as they die of boredom, his mind can’t help to go to her for the 14th time of the day. "How did she end up in the show choir?"

Alex is blank for a few seconds but analyzes the question and realizes who they are talking about. “Spectacular used to be the most important show choir in the country, led by her mother, may she rest in peace. Y/N always wanted to be a part of it and when she lost her, it became a goal. She suffered a lot to get to the perfect star we see today, especially because her father is rarely there since he works outside the country. She has practically had to face alone auditions, injuries, she had to learn to sew, comb her hair and put on makeup for the show, sing for hours her solos with no one to encourage her, without mention that the current director could not care less about the group and practically leaves all the work to her. That’s why she’s so be fearless, she kind of has to."

“I didn’t know.” The sight of Y/N as happy as ever with his mother when he took her home for lunch the week before appears in his memory. She looked radiant as she ate his mother's famous stew and listened to stories of little Luke as he gently stroked her thigh while songwriting with his other hand. When was the last time she got to experience something as homelike as that? Luke probably doesn’t want to know.

Alex's sad voice brings him back to the conversation.“I was supposed to be there, you know? At first I was. We were going to audition for Spectacular together, but that summer I met you and Sunset Curve was born, and I didn’t have the time anymore so I abandoned her. I knew how important it was for her to have me there, and I didn't even go to her audition. And do you know how many times she has reproached me? Not even one.”

Luke knows that Alex would never hurt her on purpose and that the situation was probably much more complicated than he expresses it, so he reassures him and lets him know that she loves him and is proud that he took his own path. As soon as the blonde calms down, he begins to tell him multiple stories about when he and the girl were kids, the songwriter takes out his journal and begins to add lyrics to the song he has been working on, more inspired than ever.

“You are falling so deeply for her, man. I’m happy for you both.” His friend comments to him while reading the verses written on the paper. He totally is.

“Bowling, nice. I'm going to finish you off, Patterson.”

“As sexy as your confidence sounds, I'm not going to let you win.”

“I'm pretty sure you've never gone bowling.” Alex adds with furrowed eyebrows.

“Your point is, Mercer?” She wrinkles her nose and sticks out her tongue. Reggie chuckles amused.

"How can you be so sure that you are going to win?"

“Oh, my dear cute blonde. I’m good at everything.” She makes a slight remark on everything with her eyes fixed on the guitarist, who chokes while blushing.

She smiles cheekily at him and confidently steps into the room, Sunset Curve behind as Alex and Reggie tease Luke for being completely whipped.

Happiness doesn't last long when the first thing they see inside is Damian Miller along with a couple of his new teammates. The moment their eyes meet, Y/N seems to melt, but not in the good way.

Her firm and perfect posture now all bent as she embraces herself with her arms and tries with the strength that has left to hold her gaze at the person who took everything from her without much more than an empty sorry.

When she feels the guitarist at her side again, she unconsciously stretches her hand to intertwine her fingers with him, who tilts his head to see their hands together and then to see her face.

She is not doing it to make Damian jealous, but to feel supported. And when Luke realizes it, he can't help not feeling angry at the boy in from of them. In the month that he has been with her, he has never seen her doubt, fear, or believe anything less than that she is unstoppable. And today for the first time ever he sees her intimidaded, and the fact that it's because of a jerk like this makes it even worse.

He rubbs her hand to make her feel less anxious and when she turns to meet his eyes, he brings his index finger to her chin and winks at her, hoping she gets the message. She seems to do it because she immediately smiles playfully and begins to look more relaxed.

The guitarist is aware that Damian was his firecracker's first boyfriend, and he also knows how much he betrayed her love and trust. No matter how strong the woman is, her reaction is completely normal and valid, and that she has the confidence to be vulnerable and let him be there for her means a lot to him.

“Princess.” Damian whispers as he moves closer to her, his eyes fixed on Y/N and Luke's clasped hands.

“I’m not your princess, Y/L is just fine. Listen, Damian. I could pretend this is not uncomfortable and boring but, I don't want to. So yeah, excuse us.”

She pulls the hand that joins her to Luke to make him walk and Alex and Reggie follow behind them, looking at her ex boyfriend with little smiles of pride. Alex knows how much Damian turned off Y/N’s spark and seeing her put him in his place makes him feel so proud.

"So someone is going to teach me bowling or what?"

“I’ll do it baby, but another day. Today we came here with a different purpose.” Luke points to the large Rock the World machine located in a comfortable corner space.

“Of course, is always about music with you, eh Patterson?” She smirks, getting a little closer to him.

“Pretty much, but I can tell that attracts you, Y/L.” He wrinkles his nose, his lips parting slightly.

“Hell yeah it does.” he smirks, not at all expecting her to admit it so openly but he definitely should have seen it coming.

“Good thing I’m into dominant firecrackers then.”

“Could you stop flirting for a second and start playing? I have plans to destroy Alex and your daily session of sexual tension is not going to ruin it.”

Both smile at Reggie while Y/N takes the games microphone and Luke the guitar. The song that Y/N chooses is She’s so gone by Naomi Scott, and it goes without saying that the boys have never played it in their lives but they love a challenge.

The mastery with which the girl interprets the song makes a good number of people come to see the round, including her ex-boyfriend and his new friends.

“Here I am, this is me, and I'm stronger than you ever thought I'd be. Are you shocked? Are you mad? That you're missing out on who I really am.”

The singer sings the verse directly towards Damian, as his friends start pointing out and teasing him. Reggie goes over to tell Luke he thought he would join her, but the guitarist only replies, "I want to see her shine."

She gets carried away with the music and draws Luke to her, jumping and twirling to the beat of the music. The guitarist hyping her up every single second og the song. At the end the night was incredible, the four of them spent it singing, dancing and even bowling, which Y/N ended up dominating from the second round.

Luke thought that there would be no better time than that night to show her what he had been working on, so after saying goodbye to her he went to Alex’s where he had left his journal.

Before he can say goodbye to the blond, screams are heard from the house next door. “I wasn't trying to embarrass you, Damian!”

“No? So what were you doing shaking your hips against the rock boy?”

“I don't have to explain anything to you, but I think it's pretty obvious why I wanted to be against that body, have you seen it?” She says it playfully with her eyes fixed on the guitarist, who is walking with the blonde to her door, her eyes glinting wickedly in the dark. He chuckles, knowing it's the girl's way of reassure him and she smiles as she sees his expressions relax.

“Everything alright, firecracker?” Luke does not stand in front of her like a brave prince, he stops a meter from both of them and asks before intervening, and that makes her heart melt. Because he wants to hear her first, he trusts that she can take care of it and has the confidence to tell him if she needs help, which is also completely valid. And it's something she has to work on, know that there are also times when it's okay to trust someone. That you don't always have to carry the weight alone.

“Go away, punk. My girl and I are in the middle of something.” The three of them start laughing at the ex-boyfriend's intimidation attempt, who seems to get angrier with every laugh that comes out of their mouths.

“I’m fine baby, but you guys could show him the way out? I’m tired of his bullshit.” She asks the boy with a cute smile, and he would disintegrate over the nickname if her horrible ex-boyfriend and her best friend weren't there.

"Don't touch me, I’ll go. Right now the numbers are not working in my favor so we will fix this where it really matters, on stage. Let's see if this attempt at a singer can save you from total humiliation, because let's be honest Y/N, you are nothing without me."

The faces of both members of Sunset Curve begin to tense, Luke's fists completely white from how much he's clenching them. For her part, the singer, who is already used to that type of comments from her ex-boyfriend, only tells him "yes, yes, you're right. It was a pleasure Dami, never come back." while pushing him to the other side to make him go away.

The nickname comes off her tongue in the most natural way in the world, she doesn't even seem to notice it and Luke feels some annoyance hearing it. As if someone had hit him in the stomach. But immediately the discomfort goes away when the girl turns to them again with a big smile and runs to hug them excitedly.

“Thanks for coming to check me out, guys. Things can sometimes get out of control with him.”

"We will always be there for you when you need us, okay? I actually went into Alex's house to get something I wanted to show you but it's late, I’ll come back tomorrow." The blonde turns from his friend to the other, a tired smile appears on his lips as he passes Luke his journal to place his arm on his childhood friend and lean on her.

"No, don't go please. Damian was pretty mad and... I don't want to be alone." She can be very dramatic at times but the fear in her voice sounds sincere, and remembering the scream that brought them outside in the first place Alex imagines how scared she really was before seeing them show up and his heart clenches at the thought.

“O- Okay, sure.” He sounds nervous but the excitement is evident in the way his left leg keeps moving, just like when he's on stage.

“I do have to go in, you already know mom. Will you be alright with just Luke?” He already knows the answer from the girl's radiant gaze but it doesn't hurt to confirm. She hugs him tightly with her arms around his neck and whispers a "Yes, I love you but go away already." which makes the drummer laugh out loud while high-fiving his other friend goodbye.

The third wheel enters his house and finally they are alone. She smiles and takes him by the hand to enter the house. Luke takes a moment to admire it, everything is in place but there are several instruments throughout the living room. A keyboard on the couch, a guitar next to the TV, even a tambourine on the table.

"May l?" He walks over to the guitar and turns to see the girl nodding and pointing up the stairs for him to follow. Her room is quite similar to her style, white is the predominant color but there are many details in pink and gold, as well as multiple yellow lights giving a romantic tone to the room at midnight.

“Do you want to show me now?” she asks eagearly, with joined hands, closed eyes and pursed lips.

“Y- yeah... of course.” He sits on the rug and puts the guitar aside, then puts his notebook between his legs and when he finds the sheet he is looking for, he carefully tears it off. The girl looks at him adoringly, the happiness of having him with her making her heart beat louder in her chest. She sits across from him making sure to brush his legs and waits for him to speak.

“Here.” He looks nervous, his cheeks totally flushed as he avoids eye contact for the first time since they met.

Y/N takes the sheet in his hands and a huge warm smile appears on her face when he sees the guitarist's terrible lyrics. BRIGHT written and highlighted several times in the title.

“It’s for you.” Luke whispers while bringing his face closer to hers, making her shiver.

“You wrote me a song?” She doesn't know what to say. Since her mom, no one had done anything so beautiful, considerate, and selfless for her. Something so vulnerable and full of love.

“Don’t be mad, but Alex told me a little about how you ended up in show choir, your friendship with him, your mom.” He turns to see her looking for her reaction, she just nods to tell him it’s okay to continue. “A sweet story about a little girl with the voice of an angel who loved to sing love songs. And you know what was in my head all that night? That even though I've never written one, I would write millions of love songs for you.”

Some tears fall from the girl's face, she carefully places the lyrics on the guitar and throws herself on the guitarist, who falls in surprise against the carpet, making sure to grab her by the waist so that she falls safely on his chest. She rests her arms on either side of his head and brings her lips against Luke's, brushing them gently.

Luke doesn't move a muscle, not wanting to do something to make her uncomfortable, when he suddenly hears her talk. “And what about teeth? I mean is not the sweetest love story ever told but-”

The boy chuckles, Y/N's curious eyes a few inches away. “Alex wrote that one after his first breakup, Reggie and I did the melody.”

“Good. Guess we’ll have to start making some experiences to help you write all that songs.” At that moment she finally pushes her lips against his, both in a moment of euphoria at the taste of each other. She presses her body against him and he bites lightly with his teeth on her lower lip to shove his tongue against her mouth in response. Her little hands pulling his hair hard as his hands go down her butt. Both of them enjoying what they had been dreaming of for so long.

When the two finally separate they fall in a comfortable silence, she starts to admire his facial features, delicately running her fingers through his nose, his mouth, his cheekbones, until he interrumpts her. “I knew you want me from the beginning, I could see the lust in your eyes. Everything about the choir was a complex plan to get me under you.” Luke affirms with his best poker face, and sees clearly how her eyes fill with light while a pure laugh escapes from her now swollen lips.

“And as always, I achieved the goal. The hot local rockstar is sleeping on my bed tonight.” No matter how hard he tries, he can never catch her off guard and he always ends up being the one blushing. She kisses him softly before getting up and taking the song lyrics back. “Luke, do you mind if I sing a bit of the song?”

“Of course not, it's yours. I will accompany you with the guitar, from the pre-choir?”

She nods and begins to sing the words he wrote for her. “Life is a risk but I will take it, close my eyes and jump. Together I think that we can make it, come on, let's run.”

She is reading the choir as she sings and the urge to cry reappears. He's basically telling her that she no longer has to go on living life alone, that she can lean on him, she can trust him to fight by her side. That it can be us instead of I.

“And rise through the night, you and I, we will fight to shine together. Bright forever.”

As soon as they finish singing Luke puts the guitar aside and goes over to wipe the tears from the girl's face. “I know that at first glance it doesn't seem like a love song, but..."

“But it is. It’s perfect, thank you Luke.” She didn't know that someone other than her could make her feel so special, but he proved her wrong, again.

The night before was like a dream. Y/N sleeping with his shirt while he wrapped her completely in his arms, singing softly in her ear and leaving little kisses on her neck every few verses until she fell asleep. At this point there is no way to deny how completely in love he is with her.

“Man, we need to talk.” His blonde friend wakes him up from his daydream and starts pulling him down the hall to an empty table in the cafeteria, where Reggie is already waiting for them.

They both sit down and Alex takes a deep breath as he plays with his fingers, trying to form coherent sentences with the words in his head. “Bobby called last night.” Luke's gaze instantly shifted to disgust, while Reggie looks quite shocked.

“So? What did he want?” Luke whispers, trying to sound disinterested.

“He sent some of our videos to an important person at Destiny Management and they are interested in the band. He said that if we comply with certain requests he will give the money for us to record the demo this Friday so that it’s ready for the appointment."

“And I guess you told him we don't need him or his money. What did he answer you? He cried?" the guitarist asks with an amused face, but his friends just look at each other.

“Don't you think we should think more about it? What happens if we don't win nationals? We’ll have lost something as sure as Bobby's deal for nothing."

“She’s my friend and I love her but I have to agree, Luke. As difficult as it is, our priority has to be Sunset Curve, not Spectacular"

“But-”

“They are right, Luke.” All three look at the girl, as pale as If they had seen a ghost. “Spectacular is my dream, And I know I'd do anything for it. It would be unfair of me to get angry because you’re fighting for yours. Don't hesitate, if anyone can find a way out of this it's me.”

“But, the duet...”

“I’ll just have to be the melody and the words. I’ll be fine, and honestly I'm so proud of you guys, I know you will be rock legends one day.” All three feel guilty but don't know what to say or do to make it right. She goes over to hug the drummer and the bassist who take her in their arms with all their strength, a “I’m so sorry” from the blonde accompanied by an “I know” from the girl can be heard. Then she stands in front of the guitarist and kisses his lips intensely, but breaking away painfully fast. The guys leave lovers alone for a moment of privacy.

“I believe in you, baby. You are destined to be a star, forget everything else, even me. Take the moment and knock them off their feet.” She kisses him lightly on the lips and walks a few steps back. “This month was the happiest of my life in a long time, thank you. Guess I’ll see you guys around.”

“Why do you sound like you are saying goodbye? And a horrible one? I thought you were good at everything.” Luke walks over to her again and places his hands on her cheeks, rubbing them gently. His voice is shaky and his eyes are glassy, she snorts at his sudden taunt, a little smile covered with the tears.

“Once everyone gets back to their own business, do you think you'll still have time for me? Alex is my damn neighbor, and we couldn't keep in touch.” And Luke gets it. She is used to being alone, to people not being permanent in her life. Neither her parents, nor her best friend, nor her boyfriend, nor anyone else has stayed. So this time to protect herself she decided that he too was going to leave, that it would be foolish to think that he of all possible people would stay.

“I‘m not letting you go baby, you're the only one I would let to boss me around.” The girl laughs when she remembers the millions of times she had to correct him and how he always ended up making her blush in some way, especially when they danced. She can't remember telling him but dancing with him has been the most special thing she has ever experienced. She danced with Damian for years and it never felt like the first time Luke put her long, strong hands on her waist and pulled her close to him. She can only hope to feel that way again one day.

“You are my one and only, firecracker. We’ll find a way, neither of us is a quitter.”

They say that actions are worth a thousand words, and Luke had definitely missed his first chance to show Y/N that he was serious about them by not getting in time to wish her good luck before she left with the group to the city of the competition, a few hours from there. He couldn't help but feel more miserable when he returned to the studio and found a small yellow sheet in his journal.

“You got this, rockstar. I have so much faith in you, so go make me proud. And I don’t want you feeling guilty, okay? I always want to see you shine, baby, no matter what. Your firecracker, Y/N.” Luke laughs softly, dazzled by her attempt to be sweet. If she trusts him so much, why doesn't he return the favor? She assured him they could win and when she says something, she follows through.

Why ruin his life with all of Bobby's ridiculous demands while ditching his girl in the process when he can go sing with her and do band things their way, without selling their soul to the devil. He sits on the couch thinking about what to say to the boys when they both rush in and pick him up, one from his feet and the other from his arms.

“What the hell are you two planning this time?” Luke sounds annoyed but does nothing to stop them from moving him, they throw him into the back of the car and he hits his head, getting him to kick them before they close the door.

"I'm not going to let her down again, I can’t."

"Yeah, and surely we can win, the number is spectacular... do you understand what I did there?”

Alex rolls his eyes and Luke smiles. They drive at full speed to Luke’s for him to take all his things and when he returns to the car, stands thoughtfully by the window.

“What are you doing?!” Alex is not having it, looks like a vein is going to burst from stress any second now.

“Do you think we’ll make it?” Questioned the guitarist, clearly nervous.

“If you stop asking stupid as fuck questions and get in the car, maybe.” Luke pouts but listens and finishes loading everything in the trunk.

The road is full of music to try to calm all the nerves, there was also plenty of time to rehearse the number over and over again, Luke analyzing in his mind every move he had to make, from time to time his bossy girl correcting him in his head. The only difficult thing was probably changing into the costumes, especially for Alex.

They arrive directly to register and the band turns pale when they hear the powerful and breathtaking voice of the singer who is playing her solo right now, a heavenly version of 'Never enough’. By the time they are ready to go, the main number has already started, the imposing woman in the very center of the stage with one of the boys of the group, who although does not have the voice of the guitarist, is making a good effort. Damian is on the other side, staring at her with a superiority smirk and Luke can't help but want to punch him.

“I never realized how anyone could make everything so right, I was so sad, you brought me back.” Alex quickly indicates to him how to enter the stage from the back, and Luke prepares to jump in time for the chorus, taking care of not being seen as he climbs the platform. The song is an old pop-rock song from the 80s, specifically chosen to make the guitarist's voice shine. He and his firecracker sat listening to music for hours until they finally found it, the girl's eyes shining with excitement as she imagined all she could do with the potential of the melody.

“You give me something to believe in, after all that we've been through.” He appears on the platform just in time, the lights and smoke coming out right in his grand entrance. Y/N turns immediately upon hearing her voice and he dances his way towards her.

“The love you give, it all comes back to you. You give me something to believe in, you can see the real me. And here with you is where I'm meant to be.” both singing together the remainder of the chorus and dancing to the beat. The biggest smile he has seen in his girl since he met her on her beautiful face. With that he feels satisfied with his decision, whatever happens, win or lose, it was worth it.

“And here we are together side by side, and nothing seems impossible tonight.” the duet between them is electrifying as always, he puts his hands on her thighs and lifts her with ease, both of them moving and enjoying themselves as if they were the only ones in the place. The dance ends as the first time they danced in the auditorium when he showed her that he was the right option, he holds her with one arm, their lips inches from touching but holding the magnetism back for a few more seconds until finally leave the stage.

As soon as they are backstage Y/N throws herself at Luke, wrapping her legs around his hips and devouring his lips with hers. “Someone missed me.” Luke whispers catching his breath.

"I can't believe you guys did this for me." Expressed the girl as she turns to see her other two friends, still wrapped around Luke who has her tightly held with his huge arms around her butt.

“We trust you as much as you trust us. We know that you will win, you worked like nobody for this moment.” Affirmed the blonde, giving her a small kiss on the forehead.

“I feel like I won already.” And she did. She won the trophy, the money for the demo, friends, and a ridiculously gorgeous rockstar who drove her crazy in more ways than one. All this years working hard were finally worth it... and Damian throwing a tantrum in the middle of the stage felt good too, not gonna lie.

“When are you going to ask me to be your boyfriend? As much as I love you more than anything, a man has to have some pride, you know? We've been together for like 5 months and I'm getting desperate.” They are both lying together on the girl's bed, their legs intertwined as he makes little circles with his fingers on his girl's stomach.

She raises her head resting her hand on his bare chest, her thoughts impossible to read. What are you talking about? I'm waiting for you to ask me!” He chuckles, prepared to tease her. “Bu-”she interrumpts him, pushing the hand that is resting on him to sit down. “Ba-”

“Wait a second, Lucas!” He bites his lip, he never liked being called by his name but for some reason it sounds incredibly sensual when she says it. “Yeah, baby?”

“D- did you say you love me?”

“I did, and I do. Everybody knows you've got me trapped in your claws.” He jokes to make her laugh, and he succeeds.

“I love you too, so much.”

“I know baby.” He winks teasingly at her. “Returning to the topic, you are the most bossy and confident person I have ever met, and you want to tell me that you were waiting for me to take the first step? Doesn’t sound like my firecracker. You literally pretended to be a sunset curve super fan to get my attention.”

"I totally did, I was awesome, first thing next day you were at the auditorium.” She says proud while Luke rolls his eyes with a smile. “But if it makes you feel better, I'm 100% a fan now, and...You are completely right, for once.”

She takes a deep breath, intertwining her fingers with his. “Lucas Patterson, I want you, if we're being honest, probably from the first time I saw you at that Sunset Curve gig we met at. You are annoying, cocky, passionate, and I love you with all my heart. Be my boyfriend... please.”

“There it is, that’s my girlfriend.” His eyes full of lust after hearing that she wanted him from the first night, he draws her closer to him to push his lips against hers, his girlfriend's tongue quickly dancing with his.

"Oh my god, we already talked about this, close the damn window, I don't want to hear it!” The blonde cries from his balcony, the couple can't help but laugh before joining their lips again.

Thank you for reading ✨

Taglist: @writerinlearning, @ghostofmgg @strangerthanfanfiction713 @thebloodthirstyvampress, @kinda-really-lost, @kcd15, @magnet-girl, @aliandthephantoms, @stxrkspidey, @pinkrockstar19, @s0uz4s, @shycupcakealissa @cookiebuba, @fangirlangioma, @sageellsworth05, @twist3dtinkerbell, @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve, @caitsymichelle13, @ifilwtmfc @luckylouiebug, @bibliophilewednesday, @totomoshi, @siennanoelle01, @lunashadow6955, @bookfrog247, @morganayennefertyrell, @kiss-themoongoodbye, @rachelle3musicals, @imsydneywalker, @really-dont-forget-it @agentstarkid @talksoprettyjjx @kaitieskidmore1 @lukeys-giggle @katie-navarro @crybabyddl @cocopuffs0211 @marvel-ousnesss @txrii @tuttigunner @dpaccione @justalittleweirdoo @mrstodorooki @averyharrypotterlife

[side-shawty]

Burn XIV (Stark!Reader)

XIV: Family Business

Fandom: Marvel (MCU)

Type: series

Prompt/Summary: Family is not just blood.

Pairing(s): Peter Parker x Stark!reader, Tony Stark x daughter!reader

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

•

The next morning you somehow found yourself a tangle of arms and legs with Peter. 

After the initial wariness of your surroundings faded you were still finding it hard to believe this was all real you relaxed into him again. You pushed your face into his chest and breathed in his calming scent as his strong arms unconsciously tightened around you. 

Your eyes slipped closed again and you were almost asleep again when the light sliding of the door opening could be heard. 

You hoped they’d go away once they saw you were both asleep but there was no such peace with the Avengers.

“Aww look at how cute they are. You owe me five bucks Sam,” Natasha spoke.

“No you owe me, I said they’d be attached at the hip within 12 hours and you said 20,” you could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

“Okay, but I said 8 so, both of you pay up,” Bucky interrupted and it took everything in you not to look at them and roll your eyes. 

You could hear the exchange of money and Bucky’s over-enthused “Thank you,” in reply.

Peter groaned beside you and held you closer, “You guys are way too loud,” he told them, eyes still closed.

“And you’re way too stingy, can’t we see her too?” Nat said and you giggled a little at that, effectively blowing your cover.

“She’s up!” Sam said and you and Peter both sat up, rubbing at your eyes and stretching.

“She wants to go back to sleep,” you told them and they laughed lightly.

“No time for that. Time for hugs,” Nat said, coming to your side of the bed. 

Meanwhile, Peter got out of the bed and told you he’d be back with breakfast before kissing your cheek. The simple action made you giddy.

“Bleh,” Bucky fake gagged as Peter left and he and sam sat in his now vacant spot.

You hugged each of them tight, you hadn’t realized how much you missed everyone. 

“So lover boy was here all night, huh?” Sam asked wiggling his eyebrows as if he didn’t know the answer.

“Yes he was, we talked and we slept and I will take no more questions,” you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“That better be it,” Bucky said but there was no threat in his voice that warranted concern.

“Gosh, you’re really showing your age today aren’t you Buck?” Nat teased before turning to you. “Earlier he asked me what an AirPod was,” she laughed and you laughed with her.

“And here I thought you were getting the hang of this new fangled century,” you told him.

“Listen I’m trying okay, everything is so fancy for no reason,” he sulked and you laughed again.

“Seriously though kid, how are you?” Sam questioned and they all looked at you expectantly.

“In one piece,” you said honestly. “Some scrapes and bruises and a cut on the back of my neck that’ll probably scar but I’m alive,” you smiled.

“Was it a shock device?” Bucky asked darkly.

You hesitated before answering, “Yeah.”

Bucky’s metal arm flexed as he balled his hand into a fist, “I’ll fucking kill those HYDRA assholes one day.”

You placed a hand on top of his fist, “Hey,” he looked up at you, “I’m alright. Thanks to all of you I’m here and breathing. I love you guys.” 

Before you knew it they pulled you into a hug and you held back tears giving you their own declarations of love. When Peter came back in with food they all decided to let you eat in peace with your boyfriend. Peter told you the doctors would be here around one and in the meantime, you’d probably get several visitors. 

All too soon, he had to leave for the city, there was only so much school he could avoid without the possibility of not graduating on time. He left with a promise returning that evening and a soft kiss on your lips. 

Before anyone new came in you asked FRIDAY to call your mom downstairs. She helped you shower and change into sweats and one of Peter’s shirts with a wink. She told you that she would have stayed longer but Morgan would be waking up for the day soon. 

Your dad stopped by for a little after she left and after Sam and Bucky blew something up he also had to leave.

The next ones to walk through the door were Steve and Rhodey.

“Well if it isn’t two of my favorite soldiers,” you smiled as they walked in.

“As long as I’m the number one favorite I accept,” Rhodey said before gathering you into his arms for a tight hug.

When he let go Steve was next, “Keep dreaming Rhodes.” 

“Well I would tell you who my favorite was if I thought it wouldn’t hurt your feelings,” you told them as they had taken the same positions as everyone else and sat on either side of you.

“C’mon now Y/N you wouldn’t want to give the old man a heart attack.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Anyways, how are you Y/N?” Steve asked.

“Good, healing, y’know? Seems like it’ll be a long process but I feel better than I did when I first woke up last night.”

“I’m glad to hear it, we’re only going up from here.”

“Definitely, by the way, I haven’t seen Thor, Clint, or Bruce today.”

“Thor is off-world, apparently whatever HYDRA used to brainwash Harley is similar to the mind stone so he’s trying to get it out ahead of it,” Steve told you.

“Clint had to run home, Laura is going to give birth soon and Bruce should be by later with your other doctors,” Rhodey finished.

“Ah got it. I cant wait for little Y/N to be born,” you said.

“Yeah because Barton is definitely gonna want to name is kid after the girl who put retractable grates in the vents to mess with him,” Rhodey rolled his eyes.

“Well he shouldn’t have tried to prank me on my own turf.”

“Everywhere is your turf,” Steve said.

You grinned, “Exactly.”

Steve hesitated before speaking again and his face became solemn, “Listen I’m sorry that I couldn’t do more for you that night.”

“So am I, we’re family, I should have protected you,” Rhodey added. They both let their heads hang low.

You took one of each of their hands into you, “You guys, look at me,” they obeyed, “I’m so incredibly happy right now you have no idea. A lot went wrong but I’m okay, even if I do have to spend a couple extra days in here.”

They both smiled at you and things felt okay again. They stayed for a little while longer leaving you with words of encouragement before you were once again left alone.

However, you weren’t suffocating the way you had been at HYDRA. You asked FRIDAY to project the water by the compound onto the right wall, it felt like you could finally release all the tension in your body.

Before you knew it your eyes slipped closed and you fell asleep.

——

You were awakened again by the sound of the door opening, this time Bruce and your dad walked in with —

“Well this is quite the surprise,” you said smiling.

“How could I not visit my favorite fire-wielding hero,” he spoke and made his way over to bring you into a tight hug.

Bruce hugged you next with a smile and then went over to one of the machines you had unhooked when you first woke up. Your dad gave you a kiss on the forehead and then stood beside the other scientist.

“To what do I owe the pleasure Doctor Strange?” You asked.

“You know me,” He took a seat next to you on the bed, “I love popping in and out but after I heard what happen I made sure your dad kept me in the loop. I know magic stuff keeps me busy but I am still your Godfather,” he told you.

“Mystical Godfather,” Tony threw in, “A totally made up title.”

Strange rolled his eyes and silently mocked your dad, “Still a title.”

“Debatable.”

You laughed lightly at their childishness.

“In all seriousness though, your dad ordered a full workup. He said your flames turned purple and wanted to make sure it didn’t damage your body in a non-tradition sense,” he told you and you nodded.

“So I only get a visit if my life at risk?” You asked overdramatically, throwing a hand to your forehead, “You wound me.”

“Haha, very funny. Now sit up straight while I work my … magic,” he said.

“Booo, your jokes have gotten worse since Christine got pregnant,” However, you sat up straight as he stood.

Strange was quick to begin in a flash of warm light symbols surrounded you, several of them had even went in and out of your body. 

After a few minutes, he was finished and the light and symbols faded away. His face was littered with mixed emotions.

“What is it?” You asked, concerned.

“Are you alright?” Strange asked and the question grabbed the attention of Bruce and Tony.

You were confused, “I mean aside from some injuries that might scar I feel fine.”

“Tired? Weak? Foggy mind?” Strange asked.

“Barely, it was bad when I first woke up though. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Part of what a ‘full workup’ is is looking into your soul or aura and it seems like whatever happened when you released those purple flames caused a hole,” Strange explained. 

The room was silent. All three men looked at you anxiously as you sat in shock, you weren’t sure what to say.

“So a piece of he is just poof! Gone?” Tony asked, bewildered at the idea.

“It’s a small piece but essentially, yes. There’s a chance it may come back over time but things like this are usually done only in dire situations of stress or emotional turmoil.”

“Well my situation checks all the boxes,” you said quietly to yourself.

It was then that tour father decided to move from his spot beside Bruce and wrap an arm around your shoulders. 

“Are you alright?” He asked.

“I think so, this is just a lot to process.”

He nodded and the room fell into silence once again.

“Well on the bright side,” Bruce spoke up, “It seems the damage Hydra did to your powers was temporary. If your readings are correct, you should be at 100% in no time,” he finished with a comforting smile.

“Thanks, Bruce. That actually does make me feel a little better,” you smiled with him.

After that Bruce ran a couple more tests and then the three men were gone again. However, your father did leave you your phone which you were beyond grateful for. You were playing a random game on it when Dr. Evans came to give you a quick check-up and update before leaving. 

You had a few more hours of peace before your next visitor decided to show their face, it had to be well after sunset by now. 

There were two knocks on your door and you replied for them to come in. You locked your phone and placed it on your bed as he entered and for some reason seeing him made you lose your breath.

“Harley,” you whispered.

•

NEXT CHAPTER

[milstrim]

Comfort in My Shadow

Chapter 4: Uninvited

By @iwritedumbshit for @iron-mum

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Ned Leeds, James “Rhodey” Rhodes

Summary: Soulmates are definite in the universe. Nobody knows exactly why they exist, or what dictates who is bonded to who, the only thing known is that they are never wrong. But Peter’s not so sure about that.

Living at the group home had taught Peter a lot about laying low and how to stay alive when nobody cares. But he’d always clung to the hope of the shadow at his feet reflecting his soulmate that had watched over him for years.

Typical that his soulmate is actually a superhero that Peter is convinced shouldn’t want anything to do with him. Maybe, just this once, the Universe was wrong.

But Tony Stark is desperate to prove that it is right.

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

---

Peter didn't really wake up the next morning, because he hadn't really fallen asleep last night. He'd been incredibly tired, but his hair hadn't been able to lay flat and he hadn't been able to block out the overwhelmingly disgusting smell of Mr. Fowler's closet. He'd been it the entirety of the day and even throughout the night when Mr. Fowler stomped into the room and passed out on the bed. The lilting stumbles in his steps made Peter think he'd been drunk and had likely forgotten about the kid trapped in his closet.

So he hadn't really slept, but his eyes had been closed--the darkness of his eyes was better than that of the closet--until the door had finally swung open, allowing Peter his first full breath in almost a whole day. The dankness of Mr. Fowler's room was a thousand times better than the closet. An arm had grabbed his own, pulling him roughly to his feet and out of the closet. His legs had ached with the disuse, but he'd stumbled to his feet nonetheless.

"Are you going to talk back to me again, son?" Mr. Fowler had asked, a horrible pleasantness to his voice. Peter had shaken his head. Something had been shoved into his hands, and he'd fumbled only to realize it was his wallet. "There. The card doesn't work anymore, so you can have that piece of shit back. Now get out of here."

"O-okay. Thank you," he'd said, stumbling out of the room and into the bathroom that he'd been deprived of for almost twenty-four hours. Once he'd finished and washed his hands, he'd searched through his wallet.

His few crumpled bills had been taken, but the pictures stuffed inside had been left alone, and the black card had sat crammed in a pocket. He'd grabbed it with fumbling fingers, brows furrowing. It didn't work anymore? Had the man maxed it out? Peter had swallowed, a pit forming in his stomach as he thought about what the hell he'd bought to do that. Probably a lot of alcohol had been his guess.

He really, really hoped that Mr. Stark couldn't see his purchases.

After a quick shower, in which he'd had to sit down his vision had swam so much, he'd rushed out the door with his beaten up backpack swinging off of his shoulder. He knew he probably should have stayed to check on the other kids who'd had to listen to the fight last night and might need help with homework, but the teenager couldn't stand to be in that house for any longer. Everything smelled like Mr. Fowler's awful closet and he just needed to be out in the bright Sunday sun. He wanted to find just a little comfort in his shadow that he'd been deprived of the night before.

So he'd changed into his suit and swung around for most of the day, flipping for some overly excited middle schoolers and directing an old man from Ukraine visiting his son who lived in Harlem and ignoring the pain in his stomach. When there was a lull in the late afternoon, he strung a web between two buildings and just did as many daring flips and handstands as he could. It was a feeble attempt to distract himself from the events of the past few days.

Hits and threats from Mr. Fowler were nothing new, in fact, they were a staple in the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys, but last night had been different. He'd never been trapped like that in the group home. He'd always had a lot of free reign as long as he operated within the curfew and got his chores done, but yesterday was like someone had flipped a switch on that, and he was still reeling from the terror.

Or that could be the hunger eating through his stomach. Peter stopped flipping on the web for a moment, instead laying down and balancing himself on the thin string as his stomach growled so hard he flinched. He wouldn't even be getting anything today. When did his grounding end again? He was pretty sure it was Thursday, but he wouldn't be surprised if Mr. Fowler extended it after last night. Maybe he could stop by Ned's and get a granola bar or something.

The teenager looked down at the ground to stare at Mr. Stark's shadow, blinking as he realized it was no longer clothed in normal attire, or a sharp business suit, but rather the larger outline of what he could now identify as the Iron Man armor. He narrowed his eyes, wondering what the man must be doing. Probably something really important.

Peter sighed, moving to sit up, when a sound made him pause. He cocked his head before finally turning in the direction of the mechanical whine to make out the Iron Man suit flying towards him.

Huh.

He tried to feign disinterest, laying back down on the web and placing his hands underneath his head as the suit landed on the nearest building rooftop and Mr. Stark stepped out, but Peter couldn't lie to himself about how excited he really was to see the man.

"Hey, Mr. Stark," he greeted from the web.

"Hey, kid."

"Um, thanks for the letter." Please don't ask about the card. Please don't ask about the card. "Are you sure about the phone, though? I mean, that thing looks like it could cost as much as a house."

"Keep it, kid, I gave it to you for a reason," Mr. Stark said, waving him off. Peter watched him warily as he sat down on the edge of the building, shuffling nervously. Peter smiled to see the man very clearly out of his element, as if he would let him fall anyway. "So, how's your day been?"

Peter shrugged. "Fine."

"No hangovers or anything?" Peter froze. "Can you even get drunk? Cap can't."

The teenager hesitated before answering. It was either 'I bought a bunch of adult stuff with your credit card' or 'My foster father bought a bunch of adult stuff with your credit card.' He wasn't sure which one was better, but there didn't seem to be much to win from lying, not that there was much to gain from telling the truth either.

"I don't know," Peter responded honestly as he sat up on the web to stare at the shadow on the ground. The imitation felt more comforting than the real thing at that moment.

"You don't know? You bought three hundred dollars of pure liquor."

"Three hundred--Oh, jeez. I'm really sorry, Mr. Stark."

Mr. Stark blinked at him for a second before his gaze softened.

"You didn't buy any of that stuff, did you?" Peter shook his head. "Who? Andrew Fowler?" A moment. A nod. "Okay, I'll just deactivate that card and give you a new one."

"No, it's fine, Mr. Stark," Peter said, pulling his wallet out of his hoodie pocket and showing him the black card. "He gave it back. I think he was annoyed that it was, like, maxed out or something."

"Well, it is most definitely not maxed out--there's a lot more than three hundred on that, kid--but I'm glad you got it back."

"Thanks."

There was a minute of awkward silence before Mr. Stark rolled his shoulders and sat up straighter.

"So, no tower yesterday?"

Peter suddenly remembered the little note at the end of his letter. He shrugged bashfully, mumbling, "Yeah, sorry, uh Mr--Mr. Fowler kept us pretty busy yesterday. Chore day, so."

"Wanna stop by now?"

Peter looked up at him in surprise. It was a wonder this man didn't hate him yet. The foster parents Peter had before Mr. Fowler had gotten sick of him pretty quickly, or just hadn't been very attached in the first place, while the majority of his teachers regarded him with either pity or disdain at his situation and record. As far as Mr. Stark knew, he had an accident-prone, snotty teenager as a soulmate whose favorite pass time was to be a juvenile delinquent.

And yet, the mechanic regarded him with a soft smile. A little strained, but welcoming nonetheless. It unfurled something in his chest.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Yeah!--I mean, sure sure, that'd be fun." Mr. Stark gave him an amused smile as the teenager stepped off of his web and onto the roof of the building. With a quick glance and a rare smile, Peter leaped off the roof, enjoying the way Mr. Stark yelped in surprise. Peter called, "Beat you there!!"

He did not, in fact, beat Mr. Stark to the tower. To be fair, the man was in a suit that flew faster than a jet and Peter was only propelled by physics and muscles.

The teenager watched from a short distance as the Iron Man suit paused in front of a higher point in the tower, faced him for a moment, and then dove through the window. He raised an eyebrow, but doubled down in catching up to the man, only barely managing to swing himself high enough so that he wouldn't have to crawl his way up more than a couple of stories.

Finally, just a few minutes later than Mr. Stark, he rolled through the window and landed hard on the floor just a little unsteadily, not that he cared in the slightest. There were much more interesting things to care about in that moment.

"Whoa..."

"You like it?" Mr. Stark called from across the lab. Peter nodded dumbly, staring, widemouthed, at the state of the art equipment decorating just about every inch of the room. There were cases of Iron Man armor lining the walls, robots rolling around--he managed a laugh at one with a dunce cap sweeping the ground with a broom inefficiently--and tables filled with projects Peter couldn't even begin to dream of. "You can take your mask off here, kid. No one's going to see you."

Mr. Stark's voice pulled him back to reality, drawing him further into the room hesitantly. He glanced at the man, but realized dimly that his spider sense had finally calmed down. This wasn't the danger he'd felt after being fished out of the lake, or the feeling that had been following him since, it was a normal calm mixed with just a hint of nerves.

He tugged his mask off.

Mr. Stark stared at him, a soft look on his face, before finally tearing his gaze away when Peter shuffled uncomfortably.

"Sorry, kid," he apologized. "Didn't mean to freak you out. Just..."

"Just what?"

"It's just nice to see you, Peter."

He didn't know what to say to that, so he just offered the billionaire a strained smile and stepped over to the desk the man was standing at. He felt more than a little out of place, but his curiosity overwhelmed his discomfort as he glanced over a shiny metal case held lightly in the billionaire's hands in interest. Mr. Stark tapped it when he caught the boy looking.

"This, kid," he said, sliding it over, "is for you."

Peter caught it effortlessly, his fingers light and hesitant as he glanced from it to Mr. Stark, his head down.

"I can't accept this, Mr. Stark. You already--"

Mr. Stark interrupted by reaching over and pressing something on the case. It sprang open, spooking Peter enough for him to take a step back but holding his attention as he caught sight of the bright red fabric. The eyes were what really caught his attention, looking unreasonably cool and intimidating. Peter mumbled, "This is the coolest thing I've ever seen."

Mr. Stark chuckled. "Good thing it's yours."

"It's--" He gaped at the man. "Mr. Stark, I really can't accept--"

"Too bad," he interrupted. "It's a gift and it's rude to turn down a gift. So, there's a bathroom right over there if you want to try it on. Give it a whirl?"

After a moment of hesitation, he closed the case, thanked Mr. Stark, and headed to the bathroom to change.

  ---

When Peter stepped out of the bathroom in the new suit, Tony couldn't help but frown. He covered it up as quickly as possible, but the sentiment still remained as his eyes roamed over the kid. He was muscular, sure, but he was so thin that it practically hurt. The teenager's ribs were practically there just for him to count and worry about. He filed it away for later as Peter turned to look at him, the mask's eyes narrowing.

"Looking good, hotshot," Tony said. "How's it feel?"

"It's awesome, Mr. Stark," Peter responded, his hands held out in front of him as he tapped the webshooters. "It smells like a new car!"

Tony couldn't help his laugh. "If you think that's cool, just wait. Friday, Babysitter Protocol."

"Babysitter--" Peter cut off with a confused yelp as his suit lit up blue, the AI in his suit supposedly greeting him. The kid cocked his head. "Oh, hi. Nice to meet you too."

Tony turned away, letting the kid and the AI get acquainted as he pulled out his phone and ordered a few pizzas. Five might be enough. Steve had always eaten a lot, and even if he didn't manage to burn through the best pizza in the city, the kid could definitely use leftovers. He entered the order and shifted back to observe the kid again.

"--uh, Liz? No, no, that's weird. How about Karen?" A moment as he waited for a response. "Fun. Nice. Cool, this is so cool."

Tony smiled, unable to tear his eyes away from the kid. His soulmate. His little shadow. 

Peter turned to look at him after a few minutes, muttering a quick goodbye to the AI--Karen, he guessed--before tugging the mask off again. There was a hesitant smile tugging at his thin face. Much too thin. How many pizzas would it take to get the kid back to even a semi-healthy weight? Probably way too many.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Stark," Peter said. "I really can't thank you enough."

"Please, you can thank me by not thanking me. Pepper says my ego's already a little off of the charts." Peter laughed and Tony couldn't help his grin. "Wanna stay over for dinner? I ordered pizza."

Peter hesitated, but after a moment he answered, "Alright," which was so much better than the kid regarding him defensively or looking like he was constantly on the edge of running away again. And, as it turned out, Peter fit more easily into his life than he could have thought.

In barely thirty minutes, the kid was sat beside him at a desk filled with vials of web fluid and pieces of Iron Man armor, an old, frayed hoodie of Tony's slipped over the suit, and a stack of freshly baked pizza laid out in front of them. Peter sat in the chair next to him as the mechanic ran through the schematics of his suit, hanging on every single word.

"...most of the framing is between the protective layers of your suit, completely waterproof by the way, if you ever get yourself into another lake. You also have a parachute if you pass the three thousand feet threshold."

Peter glanced over his shoulder in surprise. "There's a parachute in this thing? How?"

Tony tapped his back where he knew the spider logo was. "A magician never reveals their secrets."

"Did you compress all the air out of it? Or build it into the wiring on the patch on my back somehow?"

"Both are true." He took a bite of pizza. "You're pretty smart, huh?"

Peter ducked his head with a shrug. "Sorta. I can figure out chemistry, but that's about it."

"I don't believe that for a second, but we'll stick with the modesty for now." Peter huffed out a laugh, spinning the hologram of his suit and staring at it in complete adoration. It dragged a smile onto Tony's face.

Peter had a sort of ruggedness to him, a desperate scrappiness, but it was embarrassingly easy to see that that wasn't all there was to the teenager. His rambles were fast and excited, his scarce smiles adorably bright and always lighting up his doe eyes. There was a kind of spark to Peter that Tony couldn't explain, and, though he was sorry that the kid was saddled with him, he couldn't have wished for a better soulmate.

Apparently, five pizzas ended up being a great number, because Peter ate everything Tony offered him. He was practically a human garbage disposal, though much more polite. Tony was glad that the kid was filling up, but it made him seriously question how much he was getting at that group home. After letting the kid get comfortable for about an hour, he voiced it.

"Do they feed you where you live, kid? I swear, you just put down over ten thousand calories."

Peter paused on the slice he was eating, swallowing before putting it back on the plate nervously, and Tony immediately regretted ever opening his big, fat mouth.

"Yeah. They--Mr. Fowler feeds us fine. Just, enhanced metabolism, so." He shrugged. It was said so nervously that it felt like an outright lie, but Tony left it alone.

"Okay. Good to know. Just make sure to use that card whenever you get hungry, kid. I'm not having my soulmate starve."

At his mention of being soulmates, Peter glanced over his shoulder to stare at their shadows. Right now they almost looked like their own shadows, mirror images of each other, but if you looked hard enough you could see the slight difference in hair texture and the distinctive widths of their shoulders.

"It must've been weird," Peter said. Tony glanced at him in confusion. "Not having a shadow. You didn't get one until I was born, right?"

"Oh. Yeah," Tony agreed. He swallowed as he admitted, "Thought I was broken for the longest time. It was the best day of my life when your tiny little baby shadow appeared at my feet... What about you? Always had a grown man following you around, huh?"

"That sounded creepy, Mr. Stark." Tony just grinned cheekily. "It was nice, actually, always having you there. Like--like a guardian or something."

"And now you've got the real thing." Peter rolled his eyes and Tony pointed at him. "Ah, there's that good ol' sass I was looking for. I was afraid I'd lost it."

"Uhuh. You're kinda weird, Mr. Stark."

"Right back at you, little shadow." Peter smiled at the nickname before glancing out the window where the sky was a deep russet red. "Time for you to head out?"

"Yeah. I've still got some homework to do."

The two stood up and walked over to the window. Peter moved to take the hoodie he'd been wearing off, but Tony stopped him. "Keep it. I've got plenty."

"Oh, thanks, Mr. Stark."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm so generous. Have fun with the suit, kid, I'll see you soon."

"When?"

Tony paused, looking over at the kid who had only just begun to pull the mask over his head, hopeful eyes staring at him. He desperately wanted to tell the kid he'd pick him up from school tomorrow so that they could hang out in the lab again, but he knew he genuinely didn't have any time. He'd been putting off packing for a few too many days.

"After we move. I'll pick you up from school on Friday. We can go explore the compound together. Sound good?"

Peter nodded. "Yep. Real good, Mr. Stark."

"You can call me Tony, Mr. Parker," he joked.

Peter pulled the mask down and jumped out the window with a call of. "See you Friday, Mr. Stark!"

Tony's shoulders shook with laughter.

  ---

Friday. Peter couldn't wait for Friday. With a burst of excitement and energy he hadn't had in a while, Peter flipped in the air and let out a WHOOO! only catching himself at the last second before flipping back up.

"Wow, this suit is so intuitive!" he exclaimed, shooting another web.

"I am glad you think so, Peter," Karen responded, shocking him so bad he nearly let go of his web. Oh, yeah, he'd forgotten he had an AI now. Man, Mr. Stark was so cool. "I am currently taking feedback for the suit's systems in case anything needs to be changed on Friday. Would you like to rate the suit's webshooters?"

"Oh, full eleven out of ten, Karen. It's great."

"Thank you for the feedback, Peter, I have sent a note to Mr. Stark."

"Oh." Peter blushed. "You didn't have to tell him that, Karen."

"Why not? He has asked for feedback."

"No, it's not--" He cut himself off, sighing as he flipped himself into a large arc. "I just don't want to bother him. He's already been so nice to me."

"Mr. Stark has asked for feedback, Peter."

"It's not the--it's not the feedback, Karen," he tried to explain.

"I do not understand."

He spluttered and then sighed, waving it off. "Whatever. It's fine, Karen, just forget it."

"Of course, Peter. Would you like me to show you the quickest route home?"

Peter hesitated. He did have a lot of homework to do, and Eric probably needed help with his reading, but he had to swallow down fear at the thought of being in the same room as Mr. Fowler again. It was irrational--it was so stupid--and Peter knew it, but he couldn't stop the way his hands seemed to shake and his entire body quail.

"Actually, let's take the scenic route. Really test out the suit, y'know?"

"Of course, Peter. Planning now."

A blue line appeared on screen, leading Peter back to the group home. He muttered, "So cool."

Spider-Man was only halfway back to the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys, finally across the bridge and back into his home territory, when his spider sense went off again. He immediately glanced down at his shadow, which had lengthened as the sun set, for some kind of comfort or guidance. But of course, there wasn't one. It was just a shadow.

A little put off by the shiver that had run down his spine, he attached himself to the side of the building, staring out over the street. Nothing too out of the normal. People hurrying on the sidewalk, cars honking down the street, and shadows following along aimlessly.

"Karen. What's going on?"

"What do you mean, Peter?" the AI asked.

"It's just--there's something wrong. Maybe--" At a second shiver up his spine, Peter turned to look at where his senses were directing him at the ringing of a bell.

It was a small bodega, its door swung open as two men stepped inside in unreasonably thick coats for the warm weather. He narrowed his eyes, and the suit zoomed in with him, scanning the men before they disappeared through the door.

"What's the time, Karen?"

"7:30."

"Alright, we're good then. Plenty of time." He swung over to the bodega, attaching himself to the wall above the door, out of sight of the occupants inside. His senses had yet to calm down, so he assumed that he was right about this being a robbery. "Ready to test out the suit, Karry Berry?"

"I am always ready, Peter."

"Y'know, I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship."

"Does that mean I should assign you a nickname too?"

"Definitely! Think about it for a moment and get back to me after we do this," Peter exclaimed in an excited mumble, straining his ears to hear whatever was going on inside. There was the tense calm of nothing for a moment, and then a shuffle and a squeak followed by a spike in his senses. He muttered to himself. "Finally."

He kept his ears strained on the actions going on inside, dropping down in front of the door quietly to watch what was happening. There was a teenager at the register, her hands fumbling with the register while the two men from earlier in their dark coats pointed shotguns at her. He could see tears streaming down the girl's face, clearly terrified.

Peter crept forward, picking up on the muttered conversation inside.

"--just open the register, keep it quiet," the closest man said in a raspy voice. "Hand everything over nice and quick."

"It's--it doesn't open," the girl cried. "It doesn't open unless a purchase is made and--"

The man flinched forward. "Do I look like I care? Just open it!"

Finally having heard enough, Peter placed his fingers against the door and pulled it open as quietly as possible.

Ding!

Peter froze. Heads turned. Curses flew.

The superhero darted forward as the gun pointed at him, firing a shot that missed him completely as he dove behind a grocery aisle of gummies and pregnancy tests. Bodegas really were something. Peter crouched down, muttering under his breath, "Fuck that stupid bell."

"Would you like me to alert Mr. Stark to your predicament?" Karen asked.

"What? No! I can deal with this, Karen, just watch."

"I like the new look," came the voice of the man that had shot at him. "New government sugar daddy or something?"

Peter blanched. "I really wish that that would stop being people's first assumption. People can be platonic y'know!"

There was a scoff and the sound of something warping. Peter's eyes narrowed, peeking around the grocery shelf and then immediately ducking back. The man, the one who hadn't shot at him, had pulled out a large and glowing weapon that looked incredibly similar to the one that had been at the ATM robbery. Man, he was getting really sick of those things.

The teenage girl had looked okay, shivering behind the desk and thankfully not making any moves to alert the police, as far as he could tell anyway. The last thing he needed was cops showing up in such a tense situation. And his first time using the new suit! That would be just plain embarrassing.

"Platonic or not, I don't give a shit," Normal Gun Man said. "A new look isn't going to change your situation. So either come out, or we shoot you."

"I don't know if you can shoot me while I'm back here soooo."

There was a click and a squeak. "Yeah? What about her?"

Okay. So that was a little different.

Without hesitation, Peter stepped out from behind the aisle shelf, his arms raised half-heartedly in the air. The two men had ski masks over their face--not quite as fun as the Avengers masks, but it'd do--but he could still see the honestly nervous smile of the man holding the gun. Clearly he hadn't expected the arrival of Queens favorite vigilante.

"Good to know that you can comply," Normal Gun Guy said. Alien Gun Guy had the weird blue gun pointed at Peter, but the shotgun was still directed at the worker. He chose his target.

"Not really."

With a flick, he webbed the shotgun and slammed it into the wall. There was a startled scream at the same moment his hairs stood on end. Peter only managed to jump forward before he was encased in a blue light that gave him quite possibly the worst headache of his entire life. He hated the feeling of that stupid thing. He didn't quite know what it was, but it felt like something out of The Incredibles. Like Syndrome and shit.

"Ugh! This thing is so weird!" Peter complained in a warped yell. Alien Gun Guy gave him a brutish look and then swung him through the window.

Peter grunted as he crashed through the window, wincing at the clinking shatter of glass that broke under him, but, surprisingly, none of the glass managed to grab at him and slice through his skin, even as he was shot across the street from the force of the alien weapon, only stopping when he thudded against the wall. He groaned as the air was forced out of him.

At least the suit had kept him from getting cut.

"Ugh... The hell." The teenager shook his head, forcing himself back to his feet, clinging to the wall for just a moment as he blinked out dizziness. Remembering himself, he turned back to the bodega across the street, panicking when his head pounded. That wasn't from being hit, that was his spider sense.

The men ran out of the door, hulking along a cash register and a handful of cigarette packs, but the teenage girl had yet to leave and his head only pounded harder. Spider-Man dashed across the road, leaping through the already broken window, his breath catching as he caught sight of the purple thing sitting on the ground in the middle of the bodega. It whined, louder and louder.

Bomb. Bomb!

Peter's head shot around so fast he physically winced, but he caught sight of the teenager behind the counter. Working on instinct, he jumped over the counter as the whine reached its apex, wrapping his arms around the girl and pushing himself between her and the bomb. He squeezed his eyes shut as tightly as possible, gritting his teeth.

The world shook and she let out a surprised cry into his shoulder but didn't let go. Peter barely managed to hold down a whimper of fear. Be brave, be a hero. Be brave, be a hero. He could do it. He was fine.

He was fine.

Peter blinked his eyes open, moving carefully to peer over the counter.

"Dammit," he muttered. The rest of the windows had shattered, and just about every product in the store had been knocked back and now littered the ground. A tile fell from the ceiling, making him tense his shoulders. They'd gotten away. Some hero he was.

"I have a nickname for you, Peter," Karen said in his ear. He frowned in annoyance. Well, he had told her to tell him once the situation was over.

"Great," he snapped, stepping over the counter, his boot crunching on the glass. "What is it?"

"Peter-butter!"

"...Okay that's actually pretty good."

  ---

After double checking that the cashier was alright, Peter had fled the scene, cursing himself for how bad it had gone. Nobody had died, but that wasn't really the standard he was looking for. If anything, he'd really just made everything worse. Stupid, Parker, stupid!

The teenager sighed, dipping into the dark alleyway where his backpack had been left earlier. He grabbed it from under the crate of boxes where he'd hidden it, pressing the spider emblem on his chest, allowing the suit to cascade off of him. Frustrated, Peter ripped the mask off and untangled himself from the fabric at his feet, stuffing the items in his faded blue bag and jumping back into his own clothes, and, after a moment of hesitation, slipped into the hoodie that Mr. Stark had given him.

He pulled the bag over his shoulder and buried his hands into his pockets as he stepped out of the alleyway and back onto the streets in the direction of the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys. His brows were furrowed and his face squished into a deep frown. He couldn't believe he'd been given a superhero suit by literally Iron Man and he'd screwed it up immediately. He chittered nervously at the thought of Mr. Stark seeing what had happened at the bodega and realizing just how shit of a superhero his soulmate was.

As he was debating the likely-hood of Mr. Stark taking the suit back and never talking to him again for his screw up, his phone buzzed. Hesitantly, Peter pulled it out to find two texts waiting for him. One from Ned and one from Mr. Stark.

He clicked on the one from Ned first. The text app opened up to show Peter a grainy picture of him in his new suit followed by Ned's message of 'Excuse me??? tf is this?? tell me everything rn or im going to die'

Peter smiled faintly, making a mental note to call his friend in a few minutes. With a deep breath, he clicked on Mr. Stark's message.

Mr. Stark: I saw the news. You okay?

Peter blinked. He wasn't mad? He chewed on his lip as he sent a response, 'All good. Sorry I freaked you out.' 

Mr. Stark texted back almost immediately, 'No problem. Just glad you're good. Text ya later, kiddo.'

And that was that, Peter supposed. No...no nothing, really. He'd expected a lot more resistance or opposition from the billionaire, but he wasn't mad that he hadn't gotten any. He was about to call Ned when his phone buzzed again.

Mr. Stark: 'P.S. You can talk to and text Karen through your phone. Knock yourself out, Peter-butter.'

Well, that was embarrassing. But still kinda cool.

With a shake of his head, he finally dialed Ned's number. His friend only picked up after two rings with a breathless greeting.

"Yo, what the hell is up with that suit? Did Mr. Stark make it for you? Are you super hero buddies now!!? Officially his sidekick!!?"

Peter smiled, shaking his head in amusement as he stopped at a streetlight. "Yeah, Mr. Stark made it for me. It's cool right? It even has an AI!"

"It has an AI!!? Please, please, tell me you'll let me look at it."

"Duh. Yeah, you can look at it. We can go to your house after school." Peter thought for a moment, thinking of the alien weapons. He'd messed up today, probably disappointed Mr. Stark, but if he could take the whole operation down... "Besides, I need your help with something."

Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8

[wiyodreamz]

𝑽𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒅 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒘𝒂 [01]

⌜Nari is a college student at Seokhye University. One day she got off on the wrong foot with Seonghwa, throws her coffee on him and curses him out. Later that day she learns about the internship she signed with Hwa Corp. That same day, she learns that the same guy she threw her coffee at, is the CEO of that company! How will things go for Nari if she has a target on her back from that encounter? ⌟ Office AU

Contains: fluff, angst, smut, alcohol drinking, cursing, and more as the story goes on.

Seonghwa X Fem!reader

A/N: first chapter is finally here!

Nari walked down the busy street of Seoul. Fall has came quicker than she expected and she was clutching on her pea coat to give her some warmth before she gets her coffee and head to school.

She pushed open the doors of the cafe. A ‘welcome’ was said and the barista took her order, which was a hazelnut caramel latte. She placed her order and sat down, scrolling through her phone. The same barista delivered her latte to her and went back working behind the counter. She looked at the time and she figured she could drink her coffee here.

The bell on the door ring, indicating someone walked in. She looked up and saw a guy with a suit and expensive brand on him. Nari questioned why a guy like him would be doing in a cafe like this. She tuned him and the barista out and continued scrolling through her phone, occasionally drinking her coffee.

In the corner of her eye she saw the guy leave and for a few minutes it was just her and a couple of other people in the cafe, until he came back storming into the cafe, with his coffee in his hands.

“I asked for a green tea latte and you gave me a regular latte!” He yelled as he slammed his cup on the counter, startling the barista. Nari puts her phone away, and closely watched the scene ready to jump in.

“I’m very sorry sir. I can make you a new one and give your money back!” She said as she bowed towards him.

His glare was even more deadly towards her, “I don’t want your stupid apology! I want to see you get fired!”

Nari slammed her hands down on her table as she stood up from her seat. “Listen asshole, she said she was sorry.”

“I didn’t ask for you to jump in!” He yelled, now facing Nari, glaring at her.

“You think you’re all that because you’re wearing all these expensive brands? But you know what you deserve?!” She asked yelled back at him.

In the heat of the moment, she threw her coffee all over him letting the cup drop to the floor, audible gasps could be heard throughout the cafe. The guy was now soaked in the coffee and was now looking at himself drenched in the coffee. “Guys like you deserve to get coffee thrown at you!”

Nari stormed out the cafe and walked towards school. The cafe wasn’t that far from the school and she hoped she won’t ever see that guy again. She walked down the hallway of the school and saw a group of students huddled around the board. She walked up to them and looked.

“What is this for?” She asked as she glanced at the paper.

Her friend, Yunho, emerged from the group of students and stood beside her. “It’s for the Hwa Corp internship.”

“Oh right! I almost forgot I signed up for it” she said as she sighed in relief. In the beginning of the year, the university let some of the business majors sign up for this internship and only selected a group of students who signed up to go for it.

The paper said that all the students who were told they got selected were to meet at the corporation at 8 am sharp at a specific floor.

“Wow Nari! I didn’t expect you to get picked” a sickengly voice said as they popped from the group also.

“I didn’t expect you to get picked either Dani” Nari said as she crossed her arms at the girl.

Nari and Dani never got along. The reason why they never got along is that Dani has a huge crush on Yunho, but can never confess to him because of him always hanging with Nari. So the two were enemies ever since their first day at university.

“Nari let’s get to class” Yunho said as he guided Nari to class and she felt Dani’s eyes glaring holes into her back.

“That crazy...” Seonghwa said as he tried to wipe off the coffee Nari threw at him this morning. He was currently walking through the first floor of his company. Just then his assistant approached him.

“Mr.Park! Mr.Park! The meeting has change up a few....what happened to your suit?” She asked as she looked at him.

Seonghwa clenched his jaw at her and threw his coat, which had his blazer inside, at her. “Go to my home and get me another suit to wear for today and make sure to put this suit in dry cleaning. And you better be back before this meeting starts. Got it?”

She nodded and ran out the company doors as Seonghwa headed towards the elevators. He sat down in his office chair and pinched his temples stressed at the encounter.

“I swear if I ever cross paths with that woman, I’ll make her life a living hell.”

“I want to see what you’re wearing tomorrow to make sure it’s right for this internship” Yunho said as they were in Nari’s living room.

“Don’t worry Yunho it’s nothing innappropriate. It’s going to be very cold tomorrow, so I’m thinking about a simple blouse and a pair of pants” she said as she took her coat off. “Any girl who wears a dress or skirt are out of fucking minds in this weather.”

Yunho chuckled her response and nodded. “I agree.”

Nari stood up from the couch and approached Yunho. “And besides, you need to go home and prepare like I am.”

“I’m already prepared Nari” he said as he relaxed on the couch.

She pushed his legs slightly off the coffee table and sat beside him on the couch. “That’s what you said back in middle school when we all had that huge project! You were less than prepared.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault I didn’t get the subject” he said as he crossed his arms.

“Just admit that you didn’t even attempt to do it.”

“Fine I didn’t! Now do you want to go get lunch together.”

Nari grabbed his coat from off the rack and threw it on top of him. “I would like to, but like I said before. You’re probably not prepared enough, so it’s best for you to go home. I’m not saving you if you get yelled at on the first day!”

Yunho huffed and nodded his head. He bid a quick goodbye to Nari before he left out her apartment and back to his own.

Her phone read 7:50 in the morning. She was following her gps to make sure she was going to the right way to the company. She walked inside the company and it was huge. The ceilings were really tall, she guessed that the employees here get paid really well. She took the elevator up the floor and when the elevator opened, she saw the faces of her classmates.

A woman who looked really young came and stood in front of them.

“Hello my name is Hana, but you call me Ms.Lee. I’m Mr.Park’s assistant and you’ll see a lot of me while you are working your internship” she said as she smiled at them.

“Where’s Mr.Park?” Dani asked as she looked around.

“Oh he’s just finishing up a meeting. He should be here any second now...oh there he is!” Ms.Lee said as she pointed towards the direction she was walking and Nari swore her whole life was crashing down on her.

It was that same asshole from yesterday at the cafe. Nari stood there stunned and then shook it off as he came closer and closer.

“Hello, like my assistant said. I am Mr.Park, CEO of Hwa Corp” he said as he looked one of them one by one and his gaze stopping at Nari.

He then got a few inches towards Nari and cocked his head. “Do you perhaps like coffee, hazelnut flavor?”

Nari gulped in nervousness. Her hands were sweating from the question he was asking her. “I only chose hazelnut if I’m only in the mood for it. But I usually choose vanilla.”

He then bit his lip and nodded. “Hmm....interesting. During these months you guys will be doing a free internship and during the last month. I will only be choosing five, out of the ten of you students to do a paid internship, leading towards a job here.”

Everyone widened their eyes at the lack of information they hadn’t received. Their professors hadn’t said anything about Mr.Park choosing 5 of to do the paid internship. They all thought all of them would get the paid internship, hence them being chosen to do this internship.

“But I thought all of us could the paid internship” Yunho spoke out.

“Well I changed my mind. Once you graduate university, you have to fight for your place in this world. So that’s why I’m choosing 5 of you to start your future advancedly” he said as he looked all of them in their eyes. “Ms.Lee, could you please take them to their cubicles?”

“Follow me students.”

Nari looked around the company and the cubicles of others. They honestly look bigger than the ones you see at other offices. Ms.Lee stopped and turned towards them.

“You guys are free to choose whatever cubicles you like and can decorate it to your extent, but if they’re holiday decorations. Mr.Park wants them taken down the exact day after that holiday” she said as she smiled at them. “I have to go now and help Mr.Park with his paperwork. See you kids around.”

Nari chose a cubicle next to Yunho, but of course Dani and her friend. Sunji sat behind them. Nari unpacked some of the extra desk stuff she had from her room and put it on her cubicle, setting it up.

“Yunho, wanna go out to lunch with me?” Dani asked as she played with the ends of her dark brown her, trying to look innocent.

“Actually I’m going to eat the cafeteria food here with Nari. I heard that the cafeteria food here is gourmet” he said as he turned his desk chair around. Dani didn’t miss the chance to give a dirty look towards Nari and turned around.

A few hours passed and Nari felt herself get tired from filling out paperwork’s and doing work on the computer. She then felt a tap on her shoulder and looked up and saw a guy smiling at her.

“I know how stressful and tiring a first day could be, so I made all you interns a pot of coffee in the break room if you need it, or if you’re not a huge coffee fan, I prepared hot water for some tea.”

Nari thanked the man and walked towards break room to make herself some tea and grabbing a few treats to keep her content until lunch. She grabbed her cup of te and walked out the break room. Before she could get a sip, her tea was snatched out of her hands and heard a sip, she looked up and saw Mr.Park with her cup in his hands.

“Jasmine. I should try it more often” he said as he walked away, while drinking her cup of tea. She then walked back to the break room to see all the tea and coffee gone. She dropped her shoulders and walked back to her desk without her tea.

“I think Mr.Park has it out for you!” Yunho joked as Nari slammed her tray on the table.

Soon after she got her tea stolen, she found herself dozing off at her desk and in response, Mr.Park slammed a pile of papers her desk, which made her shot up awake.

“I’m letting this be a warning and next time I won’t be so nice!” He said as he crossed his arms. “Also you could you do these for me? Ms.Lee is pretty busy doing a very important meeting.”

“N-Nari are you okay? Your kind of trying to bend your spoon” Yunho pointed out as Nari dropped her spoon and ruffled her hair stressfully.

“Oh sorry” she said and began eating her lunch. “When are you going home?”

“I’m gonna go home in a few hours” he answered. “When are you?”

“I’m gonna go once I see I’m of the only ones here” she said.

“Nari-ah! You can’t stress yourself out on the first day! Go home and get some sleep, you’ll need it for tomorrow once he actually starts grilling us with work” he scolded as she nodded.

“Once I get him on my good side, I’ll back down and he’s also choosing 5 of us so I have to fight for a spot” she explained.

“Why does he seem to not like you as much?”

“Do you remember that guy I threw my coffee at,”

“Mhmm.”

“That was him.”

Yunho’s eyes widened at the fact. “You for sure have a death wish Nari” he said with a smile.

It was now late at night and everyone pretty much went home for the night. Nari was currently typing away at computer. The clicking of her keyboard was heard all over the empty office space. She felt a presence behind her.

“Go home” she turned to see Mr.Park looking down at her. “It’s late. Leave.”

Nari looked at her phone and saw it was late at night. She grabbed her stuff and bowed to Mr.Park.

“See you tomorrow” she said as she walked past him, but he caught her wrist tight and that caused her to spin around to face him.

“If you do something like that again. I won’t hesitate to ruin your life Moon Nari. Because what you did put you on thin ice around here.

Those words made a chill down her spine, making her regret what she did a day ago in that cafe. She wished she could go back in time and tell herself not to do that, no matter how big of an asshole he was.

[mvnvgedmischief]

unremarkable days.

summary: sirius black is trying to be a good man, a good brother, a good person. Sirius has a steady job designing book covers for a publishing house, a flat he never leaves, and a traumatized brother who was just removed from the custody of his parents. All in all, it's wildly unremarkable.

chapter:  4/?

characters: sirius black, regulus black, wolfstar, background marauders

tags: tw: canon compliant abuse, child abuse, social services, abuse

words: 3. 8 k

read it on ao3 here

read the last chapter here

Sirius knew that work was going to be high stress all day. He felt sick to his stomach, thinking about the way he would continuously have to talk to people, when all he wanted was some peace. He wanted downtime. Time when he didn’t have to think about how he needed his paycheck to put food on the table, clothes on his brother’s back, pay bills to keep his lights on, wifi for homework. Regulus occupied his thoughts at all times, protecting him was Sirius’s only priority these days. He didn’t have time for anything else. Not his friends, not his interests, not music. Nothing could come between his focus and his brother’s wellbeing, because if it did, Sirius would never forgive himself. The consequences were too dire. So instead, he just wished for downtime that wouldn’t come, and prayed for the weekend to approach even faster. 

The weekend, when he could finally sleep again, albeit not well. The weekend, when he had the time to take a breath, even if it was only brief. Because his weekends were also spent finding ways to better equip his apartment for his younger brother, going to long grocery runs so Regulus had lunch to take to school, meal prepping all of the things he couldn’t bring himself to eat for dinner. He was definitely tired of all of the ways his mind was spiraling out, he didn’t have the time. He didn’t fault Regulus for it, it wasn’t the teen's presence in his life that was causing all this stress. It really was his own fault. A bit of crying at that first hearing had given Walburga and Orion the satisfaction of a victory over him at that first hearing, and they seemed to crave more of that chaos. They wanted to watch their children suffer, and this was how they chose to do that. So instead he spiraled in the privacy of his own home, because he could practically hear the words they burned into his mind whenever he saw them, and feel the ache of old beatings. 

But it was only Thursday, and that meant he still had to do this all day, and  then get berated by the rest of the team for not attending their weekly bonding happy hour. If he was lucky,  no  one would ask him to go. He knew he should be less terrified of them asking, most of the people on his team were his friends. There was simply the question of Remus, and Sirius didn’t have the time to be thinking about him in the first place. 

He didn’t have time to think about  the way his hair curled just the right way to fall into his eyes when he slept, or the way his caramel freckles made him look sunkist. He didn’t have time to think about the  pink scars that ran down Remus’s face or how they got there. He definitely didn;’t have time to think of the comfort  of his hand combing through Sirius’s own mop of unruly curls. So instead, he needs to  put  all of that out  of his mind. It wasn’t going to help him do well at work. It wasn’t going to solve his problems. He didn’t have the  time for this, nor did he have the emotional bandwidth. Perhaps that was why Sirius was conveniently avoiding the idea that he had asked Remus on a date. With some luck, Remus would think he was just an asshole who ghosted him. That was definitely complicated by the fact that they worked together, that he couldn’t just disappear. He wanted to, he really did, because there was simply no time. 

He set up his deliverables as though he had made tons of them, because his employment in this company  rode on it. Just two months ago, he was pegged to be promoted within the next two cycles, and now he could barely hold on to his sanity enough to handle his workload. He was so fucking tired, and he had so much on his plate. He needed to mentally prepare himself for the long day of meetings ahead of him. He had no true motivation to do his job right now, all he knew was that his exhaustion was no excuse. He knew that his boss, Alice, was giving him a whole lot of leeway right now. She was probably doing more than she should to help him. Being a mentor on the senior design team didn’t mean she needed to keep tabs on his personal life and pick up his slack. 

“Sirius–” 

When Sirius focused back into the meeting he was calling into, it occurred to him that they’re talking to him. So he did what he always did, blamed it on a shoddy connection. 

“Oh, sorry, can you repeat that? My audio cut out.” 

“Remus was saying that some of  the poems could probably use illustrations, and he was wondering if you had any ideas on which ones needed it.” 

“Thanks, Peter.” Sirius was glad that he knew the people on this team, that Peter and James were as close to him as anyone could be. Because otherwise, he’d probably be fucked. 

“So I was looking through them, and I was thinking Bite, Magick, and Love I could probably use larger scale illustrations. But at the same time, we don’t want to crowd the book. How attached are you to the current order or page arrangement?” 

It felt too close, but he was lucky that he had at least read the titles of some of the poems in the first half of the book. Sirius knew Remus didn’t actually know what his level of involvement was. He thought it was just doodles, but Sirius would be responsible for presenting everything from kearning and font choice within the pages, to illustration and cover art to the design team. He was integral to the success of this book as a product, and he  needed to start acting like it. 

“I’m pretty attached.” Remus sounded cold to Sirius, and he wondered what exactly he had done wrong in this meeting. And yet, he didn’t have time to think on it. He needed to keep things moving, keep getting valuable information out of the author. Hook up be damned, Sirius needed this book to actually get off the ground. 

 “Okay, well we should get a meeting on the calender to discuss. What poems and what scale of illustrations you want–” 

“Shouldn’t you be deciding what the illustrations look like and the logistics of those. Isn’t that what you  get paid for?” Remus really wasn’t making this easy on Sirius. But he had dealt with bigger demons and divas then whatever this attitude was. So he put on a light and airy smile, one they’d never know didn’t reach his eyes over the low quality webcam and nodded. 

“If you’d like to take a hands off approach with the design work, that can absolutely be arranged. But in the case of a fledgling project with a new author, the design team, myself included, really hope to prioritize your artistic license so that we can get a better sense of your vision for your literature, should Quill move forward with other publications in the future.  We can provide a completely in-house service, with as much input as you feel necessary during the design process, and deliver collateral towards the end of the project when final edits are done, if you would prefer, Mister Lupin.” 

Sirius practically wanted to scream. He needed Remus to stop fucking with his job, with his livelihood. He couldn’t lose this project. He needed all of the billable hours he could get if he was going to justify the overtime he needed in order to provide for his brother. This was ridiculous. But his clinical and polite answer must have thrown Remus, because he didn’t get much more attitude out of him. The back and forth had ended. So instead, Sirius pulled up his deliverables for the week, which included new iterations for the covers, and twelve illustrations for the three poems he had mentioned. 

He noticed the way Remus looked at his drawings, like he was pained by whatever his thoughts were, and Sirius wants to scream that he’s under no obligation to think that they’re good. But then he remembers that Remus seemed to be nitpicking on purpose, based on his critique of the design system itself. Sirius didn’t have the time to deal with that level of petty, just because he hadn’t been answering. He was too busy. He had too much on his plate. So instead he continues his presentation. 

“I don’t like any of these. Maybe you should start over.” Remus sounded vindictive, even mean. Like he was doing this out of spite.  Sirius could feel his heart drop in that moment. He didn’t want to start over. He didn’t have the time. 

“What do you not like about them?” Sirius is trying to salvage his work while he can. 

“The vibe is off.”

“Oh, is there something specific that throws it off or...” Sirius trailed off, wondering what exactly he needed to change. 

“No, it’s the whole thing. All of them are just off.” 

Sirius needed to think quick on his feet. He didn’t have the time to start from scratch, so he pulled up his original thumbnails that he had discussed with Remus. 

“These are the original sketches we discussed. I moved forward with the ones we talked about. I’m happy to rework those sketches,” no, he wasn’t. “But if there’s another sketch that you think would fit your vision better, please let me know.” He felt like he was pleading with Remus not to hate his artwork. He’d be a liar if he said it wasn’t a blow to his self esteem to hear that everything that he did was bad. 

“No, I would suggest you start over.” 

Sirius nodded, his mind immediately whirring with ways he could start over and re-design this project. He really didn’t want to do it. He didn’t want to do hundreds of thumbnails to get set on thirty, only to be destroyed in a meeting again. Especially when Remus seemed so excited about all of his illustrations before the meetings. It felt like too much. He didn’t have the energy for this kind of behavior. 

Luckily, Marlene directed the conversation away from Sirius’s work. The rest of the call went on without a hitch, like the only person who’s work Remus had a problem with was Sirius’s. He knew that it was more likely for Remus to have a problem with him, because design work was usually something an artist thought of as easy; however, this felt calculated and cold. If Sirius had been avoiding Remus before, it definitely wasn’t about to get better. So instead, he listened to the end of the meeting, and started the project all over again. He could do this. It was an unremarkable critique. It didn’t matter.

[beecherdrysdale]

Project Partners - Brendan Brisson

Hey guys, so here’s a fic I started like a month ago and then kind of forgot about. Please send feedback bc I’m trying to improve my writing skills! Also, covid doesn’t exist in this.  

warnings: language, underage drinking, that’s all i think?

///

“Y/L/N and Brisson.” You groan as you hear your professor name your partner for the term-long project. Of course you know who Brendan Brisson is. You had grown up as a huge hockey fan, so of course you had been watching the draft when he got drafted by the Golden Knights, and of course you had seen him playing for Team USA at World Juniors. From what you could tell of him, he seemed like the kind of guy who would make you do all the work and use hockey as an excuse as to why he couldn’t help. That’s too bad for him though, because he’s not the only varsity athlete, and swimming takes up just as much time, if not more, than hockey. Your professor continues to drone on about the project requirements as you contemplate why you even decided to take this course in the first place. 

Finally, class ends, and you see Brendan walking toward you. “Hey, you’re Y/N, right? I’m Brendan,” he introduces himself.

“Yeah, I’m Y/N. Guess I’m stuck with you for the rest of the semester, huh.”

“Yeah, so I just wanted to let you know I have hock-” he started.

“Save it, Brisson,” you cut him off, “you’re not the only athlete here, OK?”

“Wow, someone really woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

“Sorry,” you sigh, “I’m just really tired of having to do all the work in group projects. I did it enough in high school, and I’m just so done with everyone’s excuses y’know?”

“Well, what I was trying to say is that I have hockey a lot so we should coordinate our schedules to work around it.” He pauses a second, then adds, “And whatever sport you play.”

“Swimming,” you supply.

“What?” He looks confused.

“Swimming is the sport I do,” you clarify. “Anyways, does the library at 8 on Tuesdays and Thursdays work for you? Besides when you have games or I have meets obviously.”

“Yeah that works.”

“Ok, see you tomorrow then,” you reply, turning to leave.

“Wait!” he stops you. “Can I get your number or snap or something in case I need to talk to you?”

“Yeah, sure,” you reply, quickly typing them into his phone.

“Thanks! See you tomorrow at 8,” he says before jogging to catch up to his friends.

///

The next day when you get to the library, the first thing you hear is, “You’re late. Where were you?”

“Sorry we got out of practice late and then I had to shower cuz chlorine and then I couldn’t find my hat and I didn’t want to go outside without it cuz my hair would freeze...” you begin to ramble.

“Hey, calm down, I was joking. You’re literally only like 2 minutes late.”

“Ok but I lowkey still feel bad.”

“Seriously, it’s fine,” he says, “Come on, let’s choose our topic.”

“Ok,” you respond, “so I don’t know if you have any ideas but I was thinking maybe we could do the effect of hockey on the Cold War? Cuz like you play hockey and I watch it all the time. Plus, I did a research paper on it in high school, so we could pull info from that and it shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” he says, seeming distracted. “Hey, why didn’t you tell me you’re a big hockey fan?”

“Ummm, cuz you never asked? You’ve literally only spoken like 3 words to me before yesterday so I don’t know why I would tell you.”

“Ok, I guess that’s true,” he responds. He then proceeds to quiz you about hockey, seemingly trying to make sure you’re an actual fan and not just trying to use hockey to get to him like some other girls he knows. You seem to pass his test, because it’s not long before the two of you are messing around, making fun of each other’s taste in hockey teams. Two hours later, the two of you have gotten to know each other a lot better, but you haven’t even started your project. 

“Shit,” you say, checking the time on your phone, “I gotta go. I still have to help my friend with her math and I have morning practice tomorrow.

“Ok, I’ll see you tomorrow in class,” he says. “And Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t be late.”

“Omg shut up. You’re not funny,” you say playfully, as he laughs his ass off.

“You know I am,” he shoots back.

“Sure, Brisson, whatever you say. I’ll see you tomorrow,” you say as you leave.

///

After a few more library sessions, the animosity between you and Brendan which, you admit, was your fault had completely dissipated. The two of you quickly learn you actually have a lot in common, like your love of sports and your music taste, and despite his fratboy vibes you quickly grow to trust him. That’s why you don’t hesitate to say yes when he asks if you can meet at the hockey house to work on your project instead of in the library. 

When you arrive at the house, you are greeted by the sound of the entire hockey team arguing over whose turn it is to make dinner. “I have to work on my project though,” you can faintly hear Brendan.

“It’s OK Brisson, sounds like you have more important things to do. We’re somehow ahead of schedule anyway,” you say, entering the kitchen. 

“Seriously Y/L/N?” he groans. “You were supposed to be on my side.”

“Sorry,” you say, shrugging.

Your apology is interrupted by Cam, “Hey Brisson, who’s this? Wanna introduce us to your new girlfriend?”

“Funny,” you say. “We’re just friends. We got assigned to work on this project together. Isn’t he wheeling like 3-4 girls a weekend anyways?”

“Hey,” Brendan protests. “You make it sound like a bad thing. I only do what they want.”

“Beside the point Brisson,” Johnny jumps in. “Just introduce us to your new friend.

“Fine,” he groans. “Guys, this is Y/N. Y/N, these are the guys. Now,” he says, grabbing your arm and dragging you toward the stairs, trying to make his escape, “let’s go work on our project.”

“Not so fast, Brisson,” Nolan cuts in. “You’re making dinner. Y/N said it’s fine.”

Brendan sighs in response.

“C’mon,” you say. “I’ll help you. I promise it’s not that hard.” 

Brendan begrudgingly follows you back to the kitchen as the rest of the guys scatter. You begin to pull the ingredients to make tacos, which thankfully they have, out of the fridge. “Here,” you say, tossing Brendan a tomato. “Can you dice this?”

The two of you work in silence for a few minutes before you decide to turn some music on. As you turn to reach for your phone, you glance over to see Brendan’s pile of tomatoes. “Seriously, Brisson?” you ask, staring at the haphazard pile in dismay. “Have you ever cut a tomato before? I had better cutting skills than that in preschool.” You hear a few guys snicker from the other room at that. After showing him how to cut it properly and turning on your Spotify, you continue to work, chirping Brendan occasionally. Once you and Brendan finish making dinner, you call the rest of the guys back into the kitchen to come eat. 

As the guys eat, they drill you with questions, trying to find out as much as they can about Brendan’s “project partner.” You answer all their questions, and by the end of dinner you fit in seamlessly with the boys, even joining in their good-natured chirping of one another. Eventually, you have to leave, but the boys are quick to let you know you’re always welcome back whether it’s for your food or your company, you don’t know before you go.

///

As soon as you leave, all eyes are on Brendan. “So Briss, you wanna tell us about your new girlfriend?” Nolan asks.

“She said it herself, we’re just friends. We’re working on a project together,” Brendan is quick to reply.

“Sure...” Cam counters. “Friends don’t look at friends like that Brisson.”

“Like what?” Brendan asks.

“Like she hung the stars in the sky or some shit like that,” Johnny responds. “Look Briss, just go for it. It’s not like she’s gonna say no, she literally looks at you the same way.”

“But she would say no,” Brendan protests. “She’s the one who said we’re just friends first so obviously she doesn’t like me like that. Why should I go for someone who’s gonna reject me when I an go to a party and pick up whatever girl I want, like she said?”

“Because you can’t get whatever girl you want, Brisson. She’s the one you want. We can all see it,” Johnny replies.

“Ok you know what, fuck off. Leave me alone. The two of us are just friends,” Brendan reaches his breaking point. At that, the guys let it drop, Brendan’s outburst giving them all the proof they need.

///

Meanwhile, you are back in your dorm chastising yourself. Why did you have to say you and Brendan are just friends? You know any chance you had of him liking you back is now gone, because he thinks you only think of him as a friend. You debate what to do, even going so far as to pick up your phone and tap on his contact, before changing your mind and getting ready for bed. Guys like him don’t go for girls like you anyway or so you think. You’re sure he wants one of those perfect girlfriends who are always put together and dress cute, not some athlete who always walks around in sweats, and the last thing you want to do is fuck up your friendship by confessing. You ignore the feeling of jealousy that rises in your chest when you think of Brendan with another girl and force yourself to go to sleep.

///

It’s not even two days before you get a snap from Nolan asking if you want to go to a party with all of the guys. You agree immediately because you don’t have morning practice tomorrow and your plans with friends got cancelled and you’ve secretly been looking for an excuse to see Brendan outside of working on your project.

That night, you try to dress extra cute, even going so far as to ask your roommate to help you choose your outfit as she seems to have no problems picking up guys. You finally settle on an outfit and hurry out the door, wanting to make sure you get to the party on time so you can meet the guys outside and not have to walk in alone. As you walk out the door, you hear your roommate call, “Have fun! Be safe! Use a condom!” You flip her off as the door closes. 

When you get to the party, you see the guys outside waiting for you. “Hey Y/N,” you hear a couple guys say.

“Heyyy,” you reply, as you guys start heading toward the house. Brendan lags behind the group, eyes trailing down your body. As much as he loved the fact that you wore what you wanted read: sweats and didn’t try to be a Barbie doll, he had to admit seeing you like this was hot. He hurries to reach the rest of the group, deciding you were standing just a little too close to Cam for his liking. He may not be able to be with you, but he sure as hell wasn’t gonna watch you date one of his teammates. He catches up and wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“Hey Brisson,” you greet. “What’s up? You learned how to cut a tomato yet?”

“Haha, very funny Y/L/N,” he responds.

“Oh come on, you know it was,” you protest.

As soon as you guys enter the house Johnny says, “I’m going to get a drink. Anyone want one?”

“Yeah, can you get me a Natty?” you’re quick to respond. “But please make sure it’s closed.”

A couple other guys request drinks, and Johnny goes to get them while the rest of you head further inside. You stay with the guys pretty much the whole night, not wanting to get separated because you know what happens to girls who are at parties alone. 

At some point in the night you guys end up near the beer pong table, and when it’s Brendan’s turn he makes you be his partner not that you’re complaining and drags you over to the table. The two of you quickly get on a winning streak and you end up winning the tournament you got pulled into. At this point you’re pretty drunk, so you don’t hesitate to go along with it when Brendan hugs you, the two of you stumbling a little bit. Both of you are reluctant to let go, reveling in the feeling of each other, as each of you thinks the other doesn’t like you back so you’ll never get to experience the feeling again. 

You and the guys stay at the party a little longer before they realize how drunk you are because you had had more beers than any of them and decide its time to leave. All the guys come with you back to your dorm in order to make sure you get back safe, a gesture both you and your roommate thank them for before they leave.

///

It’s a couple weeks later and you’re hanging out with the guys, as has become usual for you, when Johnny ask, “Hey Y/L/N, how come you never come to any of our games? I thought Brisson said you’re a big hockey fan.”

“Yeah, I am,” you reply, “I just usually have swim when you guys have games. Plus you guys never invite me so...”

“Well we kinda assumed you already knew you were invited,” Nolan says. “You’re always welcome at our games, and if you tell us you’re coming we can probably get you good seats.”

“OK, well we actually don’t have swim practice on Friday for some reason, so I can probably come,” you say. “I’ll try to drag my roommate to come with too.”

The boys groan, “Really, Y/N? You want us to get two tickets? Do you know how much work that is?” before quickly revealing that they’re joking and telling you that of course they’ll get you two tickets.

///

True to the boys’ word, when Johnny sits next to you in your class together on Friday, he hands you an envelope with two tickets. “What are you wearing to the game tonight?” he asks with a plan up his sleeve.

“I don’t know,” you respond. “Probably my Michigan swimming hoodie.”

“You wear that everywhere though,” he protests.

“Yeah, so?” you fire back. “It’s a Michigan hoodie. School spirit.”

“Or you could wear this,” he says pulling something out of his backpack. He unfolds it to reveal that it’s one of Brendan’s hockey hoodies.

“Doesn’t he need that for the game tonight?” you ask.

“No, he has two,” Johnny replies. “Now stop trying to get out of wearing it. You have to wear something hockey related to support us.”

“Ugh fine,” you give in, knowing Johnny will be persistent.

///

That evening, you arrive at the arena with your roommate, begrudgingly wearing the hoodie with “Brisson” boldly stamped across your back. You are not enjoying yourself, because knowing what it feels like to wear Brendan’s sweatshirt and smell his cologne makes you all the more aware that this will never be your reality. Nevertheless, you force a smile on your face as you and your roommate sit down to watch warmups. You can feel the energy in the arena even now, before the game begins, as UMich is playing rival school Ohio State. 

Once warmups are over you and your roommate go to use the bathroom and get snacks. The line for the bathroom is so long you don’t think you’ll make it back to your seats before the game starts, but thankfully you get to them just a second before puck drop. The game gets off to a rough start, with Ohio State scoring twice early, but by the end of the first the guys have picked up their pace, and you hope that they’ll be able to tie it up in the second.

After intermission, the boys come out guns blazing. Brendan scores just 30 seconds in to the period off an offensive zone face-off win. As he cellies, he makes eye contact with you up in the stands. “He is so into you!” your roommate squeals when she notices.

“No he’s not, shut up,” you reply, turning your focus back to the game. The guys stay on the forecheck pretty much the whole period, and it finally pays off when Johnny scores with 5 minutes left to play in the second. When the period ends and the guys head back to the locker room, the game is tied 2-2.

The third period begins with an Ohio State faceoff win, and they quickly get off a shot attempt. Thankfully, the shot goes wide and play continues. The teams go back and forth all period getting good scoring chances, but neither team is able to capitalize. It looks like the game is going to go to overtime, but then Brendan scores again with just 43 seconds remaining. Once again, he makes eye contact with you and smiles as he cellies, and once again your roommate freaks out and says that he definitely likes you. You make her shut up and start to grab your stuff as the final seconds wind down. 

“Woah, slow down. Where are we going?” she asks.

“The guys told me to meet them outside the locker rooms,” you say, beginning to lead the way.

///

When you get to the hallway outside the locker room, you lean up against the wall and start scrolling through Insta as you wait for the guys to come out. Eventually the guys slowly begin trickling out of the locker room and heading over to their various girlfriends gathered in the hallway as all the single guys congregate around you, but you ignore them so you don’t get dragged into one of their arguments. 

Finally, you see Brendan come out of the locker room so you put your phone away and push your body away from the wall. He starts to make a beeline toward you and does a double take when he realizes you’re wearing one of his sweatshirts. The guys had been bugging him for weeks to ask you out and he had been thinking of maybe doing it tonight, but seeing you in his sweatshirt has finally given him the confidence to make a move. As he reaches you, you say, “Hey Briss.”

“Hey,” he replies, and then his lips are on yours, and you don’t know where this is coming from but you’ve been wanting it for a while now so of course you kiss back, and it just feels so right you don’t ever want to stop. When you finally break apart, all the guys are cheering and whistling and you hear a couple guys mutter “finally”.

As the guys quiet down, you ask Brendan, “What was that for?”

“Shit, sorry, I shouldn’t have done it,” he panics, thinking you were mad, even though you kissed back so you obviously weren’t.

“No, I liked it,” comes your reply. “It just kinda came out of nowhere.”

“Oh,” he calms down. “Well I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while now, but I was kinda nervous so I kept putting it off. But then you looked really hot in my hoodie, so I just went for it.”

“Yes,” you say.

“Yes, what?” he asks, looking confused.

“You said you wanted to ask me out. I said yes,” you explain.

“Ok, so do you want to go get Chipotle or something tomorrow then?” he asks.

“Yeah, of course,” you reply. “But for now let’s go out and celebrate with the other guys.” He wraps his arm around your shoulders as the two of you walk with the team, and you are finally content.

[unrelenting-jazz-hands]

He picked the wrong seat.

(This is something that’s been floating in my head. I love college!AUs and I’m just happy to be here. I like the idea of Levi studying to be a social worker and Hange being a behavioural Neuropsychology prof/researcher. plus Hange would have rats... this fic is just a place for her to have rats and rat friends.)

He didn’t know it when he first sat down on the couch, but he should have known it when a woman in maroon sweatpants staggered up to his couch.

She placed the tower of books and papers she was carrying onto the couch with a grunt that let on how heavy the pile had been. She shook out her arms before sitting on the other side of newly formed blockade. Levi glanced her way and leaned over to throw a scowl, to make sure she knew the disruption was not appreciated.

But she just sat quietly and read. So, he didn’t move, he figured it would be fine. He should have moved.

And she just sat quietly and read. So, he didn’t move, he figured it would be fine. He should have moved.

"Hange! Hey, Hange! There you are, why didn't you answer your phone?" A young man jogged over to the woman sitting on the couch next to Levi.

Levi's scowl deepened, and he glanced at his watch, not for the first time in the last 15 minutes. His own class finished over an hour ago, but Isabel's lecture wouldn't be finished for another 45 minutes. It was getting late, and as the air grew colder, the nights were getting darker. He didn't like the idea of her walking home alone at this time of night. Furlan thought he was being dramatic, they weren’t on Understreet anymore.

The kid approached the couch and dropped his bag unceremoniously at her feet. He looked a little older than Isabel. Fuck, he was dreading the day she introduces some dumb boyfriend to him.

The woman slowly looked up and seemed more startled than she should have been to see the kid in front of her. She blinked and looked at her watch.

"Oh, it's 6:45 already? Hey Jean! Sorry, I lost track of time." One of her hands was still on the stack of books that was starting to lean just a little too much for Levi's comfort.

He shifted away and glanced around the room. The atrium was busy and noisy. There wouldn't be anywhere else to sit this side of campus on a gloomy September night. The choices were to either sit here or to stand somewhere like a weirdo. He grumbled to himself and looked back down at his notes.

Jean shrugged, "All good, Hange. But, where's your phone? You didn't see my messages?"

Hange looked down at the report in her hand as though she expected herself to be holding the phone. "Oh... I thought I had it." She attempted to pat down her jacket pockets (of which there were far too many) and then tried to use her foot to move her bag towards her.

Glancing up at the kid with a slight frown, "what's up? Why? Did something happen at the lab?"

"No," Jean said with smile, "Armin was just asking what time he should tell his tutorial the kick-off party starts. And then just to say that the slides for the lecture tomorrow look good."

Levi watched out of the corner of his eyes as Jean bent down to help the woman check her bag for her phone and mumbled, "We really should get you a case you can clip to your belt or something…"

"A-ha!" Hange raised a fist clenched around a flip phone, and then suddenly, she was holding it with two hands.

Her pile of books had had enough and was about to topple over when Levi's arms shot out to steady the tower before it collapsed on the brunette. She hadn't even noticed.

He didn't mean to catch the books before they fell. He really hadn't planned on moving at all; the books weren't even falling his way. It was her own damn fault if she didn't notice. But, his body was just too used to moving quickly to catch pictures, mugs, and lamps before they could reach the floor. It wasn't a coincidence that they didn't have many breakables in the apartment, what with the way Isabel was constantly twirling around and Furlan's sleepwalking.

When Hange did notice, a few seconds later, she let out a startled yelp and attempted to use her whole body to steady her library.

"Shit, no! That's making it worse," Levi said, not bothering to hide his annoyance. He steadied the pile again and kept his arms holding it up for a while longer before shooting a glare to the airhead next to him.

"Sorry, sorry!" Hange said with a laugh. She grinned at him from around the books, "thanks a bunch, though! Wild reflexes!"

He rolled his eyes, "You just weren't paying attention."

She raised an eyebrow and cracked a grin, "what? Were you staring at me?"

Levi felt his cheeks go warm and diverted his gaze from the woman's laughing eyes.

"No, I wasn't," he said curtly, "I was just sitting in the fucking danger zone."

He made sure the books were steadied before he picked up his notebook again.

The kid in front of them coughed and shifted around uncomfortably. "Thanks, man," he said while giving Levi a quick once over. "If those textbooks go down, all the paper she's stuffed into them would have ended up everywhere. It took hours to match the notes up to their text pages again."

Jean reached over and started restacking Hange's stuff on the floor while she held on. She still looked like she found the whole thing much too funny for Levi's liking. He decided not to look her way.

"You should really organize your shit better," Levi mumbled, keeping his eyes on his paper.

Hange leaned her head back against the couch, "aww, man... that's what everyone says. I've tried, guys! It just never lasts." She let out an exasperated sigh.

Jean muttered something too quiet for Levi to catch, but Hange nudged him with her foot and shot him a look.

"Well, enjoy carting around half the library then..." Levi shot her way and that, he hoped, was their last interaction.

Hange looked down at Levi's open binder, which was neatly labelled and visibly well organized.

She let out a small "huh," before turning her attention to the kid again.

"Alright, Jean! Well, the kick-off party starts at 8:30 at the Wallflower. I'll head over after my lectures and locking up the lab." She frowned, "wait, why wouldn't people join? Puppy therapy is always super busy."

Jean sighed and leaned his head to the side, "yeah, but Hange. I mean, the hype just isn't the same with rats. Plus, the lab is intense and the hours for the regular meetings are kind of random."

Levi frowned at his notes. What the fuck? Fucking weirdo...

Hange sighed, "yeah, you're right." Then shot him a bright grin, "But! I swear I'm about to get a big grant to really kick it all up a notch! We're really getting somewhere, and we can maybe take on a few more assistants next semester to help with all the data entry that's going to need to happen!" She was basically bouncing.

She paused and looked around the room quickly before returning her fiery gaze back to Jean, who was looking a little frazzled.

"And get this, Jean Boy, I've been working on something with Moblit. I can't get into it right now, but it could be really big if it all goes according to plan. Like really big!" She was bouncing again. Her hand gestures were getting more exaggerated and much too close to Levi's personal space. He decided to just lean away and scowl instead of getting dragged into another conversation.

Jean narrowed his eyes, "Wait, like big for you and research nerds or big as in normal people big."

Hange grabbed his hands, "like brand new wing big. Like the Rat Pack Club goes on vacation big."

Levi was still looking at his notes. He had to admit he was starting to be a little more curious than he was annoyed. She was trying to whisper but wasn't doing a very good job at it. God, it was like she didn't know how to be quiet.

"Wait, so this is something you're working on with Dr. Berner? I thought you were still heartbroken from him switching labs," Jean asked while trying to take his hands back. "Is he back?"

Hange shook her head, and her smile dimmed a little, "no, my ride or die still over at the Medical Imaging Lab in the comp sci building." She perked up and continued on, "But! It may have worked out for us in the end!"

Jean looked a little less tired now, "huh... well, when can you tell us about it? Who knows about it?"

Hange let out a low chuckle, "uh, well, don't tell anyone. It started as just a little side project for Moblit, Nanaba, Nifa, and me. We didn't expect it to really go anywhere. So keep it to yourself, for now, I'll let y'all know when I can."

Jean nodded. He looked determined and, suddenly, a lot younger than he had a minute ago. He gave a mock salute, "you got it, Doc!"

Hange mirrored his salute and gave him a wink. "Awesome, ok! Oh, also, did you have any questions about tomorrow's lecture?"

Jean shrugged and shook his head, "nah, I looked it over, and it's pretty chill. Cog Psyc was a fun course."

Levi glanced up and looked at the top right corner of his notes. Intro to Cognitive Psychology.

"And that's exactly the vibe we want this semester! Fun!" Hange exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.

"Yeah… ok, fun. I can do that," Jean mumbled. "I'll tell Armin," he said as he turned to go. The kid waved lazily over his shoulder, "See ya tomorrow, Hange!"

"Get home safe, Jean! Tell Sasha and Connie I say hello," Hange waved to the back of the kid's head before leaning back and slouching down.

"Rat Pack Club goes on vacation. Ha! Take that monkey brain," Hange muttered with a smile. She closed her eyes like she getting ready to take a long nap in the middle of the atrium, which was getting less busy as time went by.

"Oh!" She exclaimed and shot up and turned to face Levi with a much-too-bright smile, "I forgot to introduce myself!"

She stuck out a hand that was covered in ink smudged. Levi felt the corner of his lips fall and held back a snarky comment; he really was trying to be less pissy, as Isabel put it. He sighed and reached out to shake her hand. He had hand sanitizer in his pocket.

"I'm Zoe Hange, but please call me Hange! Nice to meet you, and thanks for saving my books!"

Levi nodded, "Levi." He went to take his hand back, but the weirdo was still shaking it.

"You're taking Psyc 221 tomorrow, right? That's awesome. I hope you're ready for a heckin' good semester, Levi!" Hange was still shaking his hand.

"Yeah. Yeah, it sounds great," Levi mumbled as he jerked his hand away from her grip.

"Is this your first semester here? Transfer student? Do you live on campus? What courses are you taking?" Hange kept going as though he looked happy to be there instead of inching away and gathering his papers to leave.

"Second semester here, transferred from Wallrose College," Levi muttered. He didn't want to admit it, but Hange's enthusiasm was putting him on edge. What the fuck was she on?

Hange nodded enthusiastically, "That's great! Welcome, and if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask! I'll be your lecturer for PSYC 221. My lab's down in the Neuro wing, so feel free to stop by if you have any questions!" She pointed down the hall that had a staircase at the end of it. "I always really enjoy having some older students," she continued, "at least someone to make eye contact with when the kids make a reference I don't know." Hange smiled at him before rummaging through her pocket and proceeding to hand him a business card. He didn't want to take it, but he also didn't want to piss off his professor. Fuck it, whatever.

"I know what you mean. My younger sister is always trying to get me to do these stupid fucking dances for TikTok or whatever the fuck," Levi grumbled out as he looked over the card. His eyes flicked upwards to meet hers.

"rat_attack2000@maria.edu?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. He didn't let it leak into his voice, but, shit… She had to be a few years younger than he was, and she was a professor and director of a research lab. He didn't want to say he was impressed, but he was. But she was also a fucking weirdo.

Hange nodded and smiled widely. She reached back into her pocket, grabbed the card back from Levi, and scrawled something down with the newly retrieved pen. The pen was labelled, pocket pen.

"Yeah! It's the email address for the club I started with some students. My research lab has been doing some behavioural studies with rats, and it's hard not to fall for their little paws and their little eyes. So, every now and then, we get together and hang out and chill with some rats. This Friday, we are having our kick-off party. You should stop by!"

Hange handed him the card back. It had a time, a date, and an address.

"This is more of a social gathering at a bar near campus, not really a regular meeting. It's mostly just a bunch of research assistants and a few of us old folk having some drinks," Hange shrugged, still smiling. She wasn't done, "the usual meetings are chilling with the rats and throwing around ideas. Sometimes the students pitch us some experiments, and then we give them feedback."

Levi didn't think he would go. To the meetings or the party tomorrow. Hell, he knew for sure he wasn't going to go. Still, he nodded and muttered out a half-assed, "sure."

"Plus! The kids don't stay too long at the parties. They eventually head out after a few drinks to the next destination to get trashed where their profs can't see them. So it's only rowdy for a little while. It's been a while since I made it to the second location. I'm not that old, but I'm not that young anymore." She laughed lightly, and Levi was caught off guard by how pretty the sound was.

"I can't Fridays," Levi said as he pocketed the card, "I work Friday afternoons."

Hange nodded, "It's 8:30 to late-thirty, so stop on by if you want! Or if you know someone who'd-"

She was cut off by someone dropping their bag onto Levi's lap.

"What the fuck?" He started, looking up with a scowl. Of fucking course it was Isabel. He looked at his phone and saw 5 missed calls.

"Dude, what's the point of having a phone if you never answer it," Isabel said with a little more sass than Levi was used to. His brow furrowed. He'd ask about that later.

"Don't be a shit," he said gruffly, but still more gently than his usual tone. She made him worry like that. "My phone was on silent."

"Hi! You must be Levi's sister! He mentioned he had a younger sister." Hange stood up and grabbed Isabel's hand with a smile, "I'm Hange. I'll be your brother's professor starting tomorrow. Should I be keeping an eye on him? I feel like he's going to give me a hard time." Hange gave Isabel a wink and a smirk, which the younger girl returned. She looked a little less tense than she had a minute ago.

"Pfft, Nah. He's pretty bland." Isabel replied and shook Hange's hand with significantly more enthusiasm than Levi had. "I'm Isabel. Thanks for engaging with Mr. Grumpy here. He usually just sits there like a weirdo."

Levi stood up and thrust Isabel's bag back into her arms, "Ok, time to go." He turned on his heel and started walking away at a brisk pace.

Hange shouted out, "bye, Levi! See ya tomorrow!"

Levi waved over his shoulder but stopped when he didn't hear Isabel following behind him.

Isabel was still standing next to Hange, who was staring at her pile of books. He groaned and made his way back to the couch as Hange leaned down and tried to pick up the stack.

He placed a hand on Isabel's shoulder and attempted to steer her away.

"Isabel let's go," Levi said.

The young lady shook her head, "Nah. I'm catching a ride with some friends. We're gonna go get some food before heading home! So don't worry about me!" Isabel gave him a look and gestured towards Hange, still mapping out a game plan. Levi pretended not to notice her look and shot her a glare of his own.

"Isabel. Dammit, why did you tell me that before I stayed till the end of your classes?"

Hange let out a chortle and glanced up at them, "Ha! Classic. Have fun, kid!"

"Well, since you don't need to worry about me," Isabel said sweetly, "you're free right now. Hange, let Levi help you with this!" She shoulder-checked Levi and stuck out her tongue at him with a grin.

"I'm sure she's fine," Levi said.

"Oh, man! I would so appreciate it!" Hange all but yelled, standing up suddenly. Her head smashed right into Levi's chin, making them both groan and bring their hands up to their respective injuries.

"Dammit, four-eyes. Be fucking careful," Levi growled. He shot Isabel a look, but it didn't stop her giggling. He was losing his edge.

"Ok, bye! I have my phone, and it won't be on silent!" She waved and hurried off in the direction of the exit. There was a group of girls who waved, laughing, before walking off together. Levi let out an exasperated sigh, but he was happy to see she was making friends. She deserved it.

Groaning, he looked back down. Hange… was just sitting on the floor, next to her pile of books. No, she wasn't just sitting there. She was reading a book.

"Yo, four-eyes. You want help or not."

"Hmm?" She looked up as though unsure of who was talking to her. She blinked her big, brown eyes and then smiled. Her lips formed a little oh, and though she only just remembered where she was. "Oh, yes! Sorry, I got side-tracked there for a minute. How's your chin! I'm really sorry about that!"

She stood and reached out to touch Levi's face.

He took a step back, "You were just touching the floor. I don't want you touching my face!" He felt his cheeks warm up a bit and shifted his gaze. He picked up most of the stupid, fucking books.

She chuckled and reached down to pick up the rest. She looked at him with a grin and replied, "that's a fair point, Shorty."

"Shorty?" Levi all but dropped the books. "Whatever, Four-eyes," he said and stormed away.

He heard some undignified sputtering as she tried to think of a comeback. He smirked. Good, she should feel bad.

"You just called me Four-eyes? What, I can't call you Shorty?"

"Not when I'm doing you a favour," he shot back. " And after you try to break my face!"

"No! Come back, Shor- Levi! I mean... I mean, come help me, Levi," she sounded whiney. He wasn't sure if he liked that sound.

He turned around and saw her trying to pick up the stack again. He let out a sigh and dragged his feet back to the fucking weirdo, again.

"Oh my fucking god… Why do you even have this many books with you?" He said gruffly as he took an armful of the offending items.

"Research!" Hange exclaimed as though it was obvious. She started to walking away at a surprisingly fast pace.

"What the fuck, slow down, weirdo," Levi said. In-fucking-credible.

"Well, come on then!" Hange said, glancing over her shoulder. "My office isn't too far away."

It sure felt like it was, though.

After winding their way through the halls and then down several sets of stairs, Hange finally unlocked a door and turned on the lights of her office. It was absolutely filled with books, with stacks of papers covering every surface. She shuffled into the room, stepping over a few plastic boxes, and placed her cargo on her chair. It was the only surface that had any space. Hange motioned for Levi to hand her his share, which she placed on the ground, next to the chair.

"Fuck, Hange. How the hell do you ever find anything?" Levi said, unable to hide the growing frustration from his tone. He didn't like clutter, and he really didn't like this room. "This is a fucking mess."

"Oh, it's not that bad! I can find what I need eventually!" She waved her hand and flicked off the lights. Hange picked up two plastic boxes, letting out a small grunt as she did so.

"Alright! Let's head out. Close the door, would you?" She nodded to the open door.

"What's in the boxes?" Levi asked, shutting the door. He had no idea why he was still here. Why was he still here, talking to this lunatic. God, he shuttered thinking of the stacks of paper in that little office.

"Oh, just old notebooks that I need to shred, some speakers I need to donate, and then a lot of rat food to bring to the shelter."

He had forgotten about the rats.

He looked over at the tall, lanky woman. She was obviously struggling. Shit.

"Give me those," he muttered as he took the boxes from her.

She let out an audible sigh as she shook out her arms, "oof, thanks a bunch! Ok, it's over this way!"

Levi glanced her way, "what is?"

"My apartment!"

He felt weird about this. He didn't know this person. Well, he did, or he would know her. Tomorrow, anyways. It still felt weird. He wasn't sure he really knew why. He nodded silently and followed her.

He paused when he looked down.

"Are you wearing fucking crocs?"

[dzpenumbra]

1/21/23

This month is flying by. I didn't sleep well last night. My cat didn't come to bed for the second consecutive night. I think her hips are flaring up or something, I don't know. I don't want to bug her. I got up early, got my weighted blanket and came down to sleep in the comfy chair with her. She was... very aggressively hungry. And I refused to get up because I was nodding off tired. And it was a bad combo. She ended up going after my arms and legs to like... make me get her food. I was very upset with this. It's bad enough to fight with "friends" and family, but... conflict with her is just... it's a special kind of horrible.

I have no idea how she's so hungry. I haven't changed anything about her diet in like a month, at least. She was extremely pissed that I didn't get her food like 2 hours earlier than normal. I don't know, maybe I should just do it next time. I ended up doing it in the end, but like. Yeah, that moment stuck with me, because she was clearly sending a message and I just... don't know what to do. I can't feed her earlier, I'm supposed to be catching up on sleep, I haven't had a full night's sleep in like... I don't even remember anymore. If I feed her dinner later... she just gets pissed at that time of day. It's just a no-win situation. And I can't do snacks or treats or anything because of the thyroid shit so this is just... how things are. Ugh.

Yoga was good. I immediately started work on my new necklace and that ended up being a whole-day project. It's still not even close to complete. I got my wrapped bloodstone out, arranged the tiger's eye and obsidian beads in a pattern I liked, picked out some wooden beads I want to add in to separate them... and then decided to decorate the raw wood beads. First I was going to draw on them, then I decided it might be easier to dye them and then carve away the ink? Mostly because archival ink was just smearing, it wasn't soaking into the wood. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to seal it in, and it would just smear and come off. I decided to dye the beads with my old Kuro Sumi tattoo ink. It sure ain't getting any other use. -_-

I decided this was as good a time as any to finally whip up that beeswax/oil wood finish mix, which was surprisingly easy to make. Then I dyed the beads, which was also very quick and simple. I started laundry while they dried. When I got back, I decided to try to seal one of the beads and the ink just... mixed with the wax paste and got everywhere. I have no idea how much ink actually absorbed into the wood or if it just caked onto it or something. To reduce the risk of black staining - because this ink is like... super permanent - I ended up deciding to go for more of an eroded look, and tried to strip off as much of the caked-on ink as I could. This took forever, in fact... my wrist is struggling to type right now because of it. Rubbing alcohol, the scouring pad side of a sponge, 130 grit sandpaper, just over and over. For 12 beads, one by one. When that was done, I popped a coat of the wax on and they've been chillin ever since. They came out pretty decent, I'll see tomorrow how they look with the stones.

The only step left after that is the weaving, which I was expecting to do most of the day today, but didn't do at all. I'm planning to do a... 6 strand... but doubled over, so technically 3 strand... and I'm planning to take a paper clip and shape part of it into a ringlet to start my weave on. That will end up being the anchor point for the clasp that will be tied to the other end. Then I'm going to weave about half the length of the side on both sides... so... probably about... 8-9 inches total? Maybe some square knots inbetween the beads to break it up a bit too. I'll play it by ear. I'm excited to see how it turns out.

That consumed the entire day. Not a bad thing, of course. Today was just... art problem solving, music and laundry. Planning to pick up where I left off tomorrow.

No deep thoughts tonight. No psychoanalysis. No dissecting the psyche and pondering existence. Just... I made some things that I'm conflicted on whether they're cool or not. But I made things, and they are uniquely mine. And that. THAT is art. Because I could go buy dyed beads off the shelf. Or order them delivered to my door via the internet. But these beads have the same exact ink in them that I injected manually into my own skin. There was a process. They are the first of their kind. They were handled individually and were crafted with intention by a person. I will always have the memory of the intense smell of rubbing alcohol as I tried to strip off the excess ink without staining my countertops. Devin Townsend's Nightwork in my ears. Those pieces were part of my life, they have a place in my memory. You can't say that about mass produced shit. You can't say that about emulated shit. So even if these beads aren't right for this piece, I'm 100% keeping them and using them for something. They are special!

And with this theory, it really makes me think - there is no bad art but lazy art. Art that intends to cut as many corners as possible to avoid being what it is claiming to be. I mean, I honestly am not sure if bad art is even a thing, but like... if it were? I'd think that's it. Because, typically, when you cut corners... that just means someone (or something) else is filling in the gaps. And the piece ends up being an expression of that person. Not the artist. So... it's still art, you know. But it's not your art. Right? Okay, I can tell I'm very overtired. I literally just said "no deep thoughts tonight" a paragraph and a half ago, I WAS SO CLOSE!!!

Sleep time.

[haloud]

things we could burn in one go (eminence) - chapter 8

also on ao3

Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Isabel Evans & Max Evans & Michael Guerin, Michael Guerin/Alex Manes, Forrest Long/Alex Manes Additional Tags: post-s2, Canon Compliant, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Starts Forlex Ends Malex, Other Characters May Appear, Tags Subject to Update, Mutual Pining, Breaking Up, Getting Together

Chapter Summary: Forrest returns from his trip, and he and Alex clash over Michael’s presence in his life.

Excerpt:

Was Forrest right?

Was he taking advantage of Michael? No. His first instinct was no. Michael came to him when he was in need—something Alex still wasn’t letting himself stop to process.

But the thing Forrest said about power…

If he searched himself, if he had to put it in such terms: Michael did make Alex feel powerful. He always had. From the very first day, when Alex offered the only thing he had—the rebellious kindness he practiced mostly because his father wanted to stamp it out—and Michael took it, took it shy and suspicious, but then grew towards him like a sunflower. That made him feel powerful. And it would be dishonest to say he didn’t feel powerful every time he came and went and no matter what Michael was still there waiting when he returned, no matter how much, yeah, Michael made him feel weak, too, knew just the right words to say to cut the deepest.

Control was a commodity. Alex starved for it his entire life and gorged himself when it was available, and only now was he in a place where he could begin on the work of balancing himself out. Michael told him once that he never said no to him—how able was Alex to judge when they crossed such old, familiar lines worn away by the traffic they’d seen over the past eleven years? How much could Michael be trusted to see those lines either, or to tell him if they were crossed instead of just taking it?

They needed to talk. They always needed to talk. It never got any easier. And what the hell was all the talking for, if not…that thing Forrest was worrying about? Not cheating, no, but was there still some part of him that still dreamed his old dream of what peace looked like, Michael in the early morning, and birdsong after rain, and nowhere to be but here?

Sorry I’ve been so quiet. It’s been a pretty stressful few days. I love the pictures, and I hope your trip was fun.

Alex pressed send and sent a picture of himself and Buffy cuddling in the early morning along with it.

Forrest’s reply was almost instant.

 No problem, babe. It’s been great, but I’m also ready to be home…and see you again.  😉

He sighed. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard as he searched for the right words to explain the situation before Forrest walked right into it, to explain why he was sharing his home with Michael, to explain why Alex balked and deflected and talked his way around every suggestion that Michael could be on his own now, that he was healed enough to make do alone. Maybe Forrest wouldn’t understand, but Alex owed him at least that much. Right?

Looking forward to seeing you, too, he said, then dropped his phone onto his chest and ran a hand over his face.

The house was quiet around him. Michael was an early riser, but a stealthy one; thus far, even Alex’s hypersensitive hearing hadn’t been piqued or sent into an anxious, paranoid spiral by so much as the sound of a foot tread from rooms away. At first, the silence troubled Alex, brought up thoughts of Michael laying stuck in his bed afraid of disturbing Alex, afraid of him, but he’d started his own day only to find Michael’s already begun enough times now to find the quiet peaceful, thoughtful.

The buzz of his phone was jarring in comparison. He picked it up to check it.

 Oh yeah? Been lonely there without me?  😉  😉  😉

Alex threw an arm over his eyes and groaned.

He was saved from having to come up with a response by another message coming through quickly: Kidding—the first group just got called to board, so I don’t have time for all that. See you soon, babe.

Alex responded, See you soon. Sure you don’t need a ride from the airport? Call me if Wyatt flakes.

 I will. But I think it’ll be fine.

Okay. He hesitated again. This was his last chance to say something about Michael before Forrest was back in Roswell. But, chickening out, he just said, Call me even if you just don’t want to spend three hours in the car with him.

Forrest responded with a kissing emoji, and that was that.

Eventually, Alex got out of bed and got ready for the day. He’d taken to not wearing his uniform when off base in deference to Michael’s deep discomfort with it, and, though at times inconvenient, it was worth it to walk into the kitchen and see Michael at the table with a bowl of cereal, and for him to look up and smile at Alex instead of lean back and close off.

“Got any plans for today?” Michael asked as Alex checked his watch and grabbed a banana from the bowl on the counter to eat on his way.

“Nothing much beyond work. Forrest is coming home today. He has a short layover in Denver, so between that and the drive from Albuquerque, he should get back to Roswell around the time I get off.”

“Oh. Right.”

Michael’s voice was flat, and Alex didn’t know what to do with it, so he stood at attention and waited for Michael to make the next move.

“Max will be devastated,” was all he said. In her basket in the corner, Buffy slept on.

Alex’s lips quirked up. “Maybe we can set up play dates for them. Honestly, Forrest would probably appreciate someone taking her to the park or something when he gets deep into writing or research.”

“Huh. I’ll let Max know.” He took the last bite of his cereal and stood to rinse it in the sink. Every day he regained a little more strength, but Alex’s keen eyes still couldn’t miss the uneven shakiness of his limbs or the hollowness around his eyes.

Alex checked his watch again. He needed to get going, but it was harder than he’d ever expected to leave Michael in the mornings, a thought that left guilty grit in the pit of his stomach. His heart and mind hit on a pattern he didn’t mean, a dangerous domestic assumption that wasn’t fair to anyone, not Michael, not himself, and not Forrest. The first few days, laying in the dark at night trying to locate Michael’s beat and breath from across the house, he’d told himself it was just worry for him that rooted those thoughts in his head, that if Michael was in his house for any other reason, things would be different. If it was a lie, well, Alex was comfortable with lying to himself.

“I’ll make myself scarce,” Michael was saying as he put his bowl in the drying rack.

“What?”

He shrugged and turned to face Alex, leaning his weight back against the counter. “I figured it’d be awkward if your boyfriend showed up and I was here. So I’ll make sure I’m gone by the time he gets back.”

“Michael, no.” Alex’s heart pounded sickly in his chest—Jones lying in wait to get Michael alone—Michael collapsing to the floor of his trailer, red pouring from his mouth, ears, and eyes—Michael powerless and pulled over on the side of the road to Sanders’s, apprehended and shoved in the back of a Project Shepherd van—"You can stay here as long as you need to—until we know it’s safe and the threats are eliminated. It’s not pity, it’s the same reason Max is living with Isobel right now, right? And she’s only got the one guest room.”

He was babbling, excuses flowing like wine. But no sacrificed dignity was too far if it meant keeping Michael safe—making him understand.

Continuing, he said, louder and firmer, “Frankly, no potential target should be alone right now. This shouldn’t wait until Thursday—I’m going to get in contact with Maria, Rosa, and Kyle today and work out a buddy system. Someone might have to double up; would it bother you if Maria—”

“Alex,” Michael interrupted softly. “It’s okay.”

Alex stopped in his tracks. When had he started pacing?

Michael stepped forward and, with only a heartbeat’s hesitation, so quick Alex might have imagined it, he put a warm, solid hand on Alex’s shoulder.

“If you think it’s safer, I won’t go anywhere.”

Swallowing, Alex nodded. His hand twitched at his side, but he didn’t pick it up to wrap it around Michael’s wrist and hold him there.

While they stood there, caught in the moment, dawn through the window catching dew on a spider’s web, Alex’s watch beeped little and tinny.

“Looks like you do gotta go somewhere,” Michael said, voice comfortingly casual, dropping his hand and stepping away.

“Right. I do. Look, we can just tell Forrest you were too sick to be alone. If he gets pissed, I’ll deal with it. It’s fine.”

“I don’t want to come between—”

“You’re not. I should have told him, but I didn’t, so I’ll handle the fallout. I have to go.”

“Okay.” Michael didn’t look comforted, but he didn’t fight. “See you later. I might pick up a half day at work, too. Not pushing myself,” he pre-empted.

Alex was now running too late to argue, so he had to leave it there, with just a text to Max at a red light: Michael going to work today. Call me if anything happens.

He didn’t hear from Max all day, and when he checked his phone after work, he had only a couple brief messages from Forrest confirming he made it to Denver and made it onto his connecting flight.

Made it to ABQ alright? He texted, and by the time he got home, he had a response.

 Yeah. Super tired. Maybe I should have asked you after all…I’m stuck in the car with Wyatt’s music, ugh.

Michael’s car wasn’t in the driveway like Alex might have expected if he’d gotten a ride to Sanders’s and come back, but Alex took a deep breath and postponed spiraling over anything until he confirmed whether or not Michael was here. Shouldering his bag and locking his car, he made his way inside, responding with his other hand. Ugh indeed. I hope you brought the good headphones for blocking it—and him—out.

 You know it, babe.

“Michael?” he called.

“In the den,” Michael replied.

There, Alex found him stretched out on the couch, ankles crossed and propped up on the arm so Buffy could sleep beneath them, a book in his hands that he set aside as Alex entered the room.

“How was your—what the fuck?”

Buffy’s head perked up at Alex’s voice, and she gave him a baleful look.

Michael grimaced. “Don’t freak out—”

“What the hell happened?”

In two strides, Alex crossed the space between them and grabbed Michael’s hand to examine it. He sported thick white gauze wrapped around his palm, and Alex had to fight down a scream of pure frustration.

“I just burned myself at work. It’s not as bad as it looks—Max just went overboard dressing it since I wouldn’t let him heal it.”

Alex scowled. Traitor.

“Have you had Kyle look at it? Why didn’t you let Max heal it? Why—”

“Alex! It’s fine. I’m fine.”

He sat up so their eyes were closer to level; Michael’s eyes were golden and earnest and exasperated and Forrest might already be back in Roswell and Alex couldn’t stand it.

Michael continued, “I’m not stressing Max’s heart or wasting Kyle’s time with something like this. Little injuries are common in the shop. I really am gonna be fine. You need to breathe.”

Following that advice, Alex closed his eyes, breathed in and counted, breathed out and counted. Of course something as small as a minor burn wouldn’t register to Michael. Alex had held those hands, felt them on his body, counted every tiny white scar and callous, claimed and cherished them when one was warped with pain and grief. This little injury was normal, routine, not anything to protect him from, not any proof of Alex’s failure. He needed to calm down.

“Your car isn’t here,” he said, changing the subject off of such heavy things.

“Yeah, Max picked me up and dropped me off. I could have driven, but you’re not the only person being overprotective right now.”

Hm. Maybe Max wasn’t such a traitor after all.

“And is Sanders—"

He cut off at the rattle of the doorknob. Buffy echoed the sound with a bark, and instinct had Alex reaching for his gun; he rotated himself to be between Michael and the door, even as Michael hissed in displeasure. But he couldn’t defend himself like this, without his powers, so Alex wasn’t taking any chances.

“Alex, hey, babe, you left the door unlocked!”

Oh. Alex dropped his head down and took his hand off his gun, running through his hair instead. Right.

“Hey, Forrest,” he called back, checking his phone as he spoke. No missed calls or messages. He caught Michael’s eye and grimaced as Buffy clambered off the couch and loped towards Forrest’s voice.

“Everything okay? It’s not like you to…”

Forrest froze in the mouth of the hallway, locking eyes with Michael on the couch, who in turn flicked his eyes to Alex like he had the answers to the awkward situation that just landed in their laps.

“Michael! This is unexpected. I didn’t realize you guys hung out,” Forrest said with impressively convincing but still false cheer. He tilted his head and shot Alex a questioning look, too, and defensiveness rose hackles in Alex’s head.

“He’s been sick, had a pretty bad fever a few nights in a row, so I told him to come over, since he lives alone and all,” Alex lied brusquely.

“Ah. Well. I hope you’re feeling better?”

“I think I’m gonna go chill outside,” Michael said, leaping up with a vigor he clearly didn’t possess at the moment, wobbling dangerously and, after righting himself, staggering toward the door.

Thank god his car wasn’t here so he could only get so far if he decided to take off.

As long as he didn’t suddenly rediscover the ability to teleport that almost killed him, that was.

“He’s been here for how long?” Forrest asked as soon as they were alone, voice still false and light. His eyes were lined and exhausted from travel.

Alex shrugged and, inclining his head to suggest Forrest follow him, he headed to the bedroom to put his gun in its safe. Buffy watched them go.

“A few days,” Alex said as they walked. “Like I said—he was sick, and he lives alone. Sorry, I should have warned you.”

“Oh. Well, I, uh. That’s okay, I guess. I didn’t know the two of you were that close?”

The safe beeped, and Alex stowed his firearm and closed it, spun the dial, and waited for the whir of the electronic lock engaging too. Then he turned to face Forrest and said, “We’re friends. We spend time together sometimes. You know, Thursdays?”

“Every Thursday.” Forrest’s voice was flat again. “Do you guys only hang out on Thursdays, or…?”

“We have different schedules, so it’s mostly Thursdays, but not always. Hell, Forrest, he was there when the two of us met, I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

“That was months ago, and I’ve barely heard you mention him since we started dating, only seen him once, when we went to the bar. Remind me who comes to those little get togethers again? Or is it just you and Michael.”

“It depends on the week,” Alex said, growing increasingly defensive. His back was to the wall; he didn’t have much room to maneuver. His ears were ringing slightly. “But there are usually—we have the same entire friend group, hell, I invited you to a couple Thursdays, and you always said no! But, yeah, Michael hosts them, we hung out one on one a few fucking times, should I start giving you a numbered list of my known associates, or what? Fucking hell, Forrest.”

“Okay, okay, God. No, I don’t care who you see, I just…”

“Just what?”

“I don’t know, you’re exes! You’re—you’re almost more than that, even; I may not know the whole story, but you have unfinished business or whatever! I know your song was about him. So the idea of you two spending a ton of time together makes me insecure. And I know you can handle yourself, but I worry, with Guerin being—"

Alex drew back at that. “Guerin being what? He’s not dangerous just because he doesn’t meet your perfect standards, holy shit, Forrest.”

His own voice whispered wasting his life nastily in his ear, but he shoved it down. That was guilt for another time; right now his energy was better spent defending Michael from whatever the fuck accusation Forrest was trying to point his way.

“Right, right, I know.” Forrest ran an agitated hand through his hair. “Sorry, it just slipped out.”

“That doesn’t really make it better,” Alex snapped back.

Forrest sighed heavily. “I know. I know. I’m sorry, I was just really taken aback seeing him here after being gone—and you being so distant. Can you see how that might feel? Even though I trust you?”

Alex took a deep, cool breath. Yes, he could see it. He’d sat with the guilt and anxiety about it for days, even as he’d been unable to let go of Michael in his grasp. He could at least be gentle about Forrest’s reaction now. He reached out and took his hand and said, gently:

“Michael and I used to date, yes. But we’re friends now, and nothing else.”

But no matter how sincere he tried to be, Forrest’s face told him something in there was hollow. Alex’s stomach twisted.

Even if, the thought intruded, even if he did decide to cheat, he wouldn’t put Michael through all the hiding and sneaking and secret-keeping it would take, wouldn’t do that to him. Again. He shoved that thought away with force, before it could get its claws in him, as nauseous with stress as he already was.

A brief smile flickered across Forrest’s face. “Okay. Thank you. I trust you, okay? I do. I’m sorry for getting all controlling.”

He leaned up, and Alex kissed him lightly.

“Hey, now that Michael’s gone…” Forrest raised an eyebrow and tugged Alex’s hand lightly in the direction of the bed. “I was hoping we could have a date night in? Celebrate my homecoming? As long as you don’t have any plans, that is, I missed you and wanted to do something a little spontaneous…”

“Hold on, he stepped outside to let us talk, he didn’t leave leave. He’s staying until he’s out of the woods with whatever he’s got.”

The glitter that had sprung up in Forrest’s eyes winked out again. “He looked fine to me.”

“He almost passed out when he stood up! I’m not leaving him by himself while he’s sick. That doesn’t mean we can’t still go out—”

“And what, I’ll have you home by ten with a nice chaste kiss on the doorstep? Or we can go back to my place, where Wyatt will be playing Xbox in the den.”

This was the sharpest Forrest had ever spoken to Alex, and his mind spun blank tape trying to come up with the appropriate reaction. Where was this coming from? Had Alex crossed such a line, gone so far that Forrest wouldn’t trust him at all? What about his reaction to Michael bled so far out of the boundaries he tried to draw, betrayed his heart so badly with no regard for what he knew he should want? What was wrong with him?

Forrest continued, just as piercing, “Or would we still come back here? Because I figured that’d be off the table, since you’ve gotten pissed any time I even hinted we might do anything with someone else within restraining order distance, but I’m more than happy to fuck with Guerin in the next room.”

Shock dropped Alex’s jaw at that one. “What the hell is your problem tonight? If this is how insecurity looks on you, maybe I don’t want to fuck tonight anyway. Maybe we should go out some other night.”

“I just don’t get why he has to be here, and not at his sister’s! Or hell, his girlfriend’s? Does she know he’s here?”

Utterly out of patience, guilt firmly faded in the face of budding fury, Alex snapped back, “Forrest, you are more social than this dumpy town knows what to do with. You’re involved in like four events every weekend, half of them at the Wild Pony, you cannot tell me you didn’t get that Maria and Michael broke up the first three times someone told you.”

“So his new girlfriend’s, whatever.”

“What, just because he’s bi, he has to jump right into—”

“That’s not what this is about, that’s not fair, Alex!”

“Okay! Fine. But what is it about? Because…”

Alex’s heart pounded harder as he realized what had his anxiety rising so fast and thick in his throat. Forrest set the tone and pace of their relationship, even if he set it as slow as he thought Alex needed, and Alex let him because Forrest was the one with dating experience, the one who knew how these things were supposed to work. But…

Swallowing hard, Alex said, “Because if this is you saying I’m choosing Michael over you—if you’re trying to tell me I can’t be friends with my ex, that’s a hard line for me. That’s not your call. I’ve never hidden how important Michael is to me from you, and it’s not on me if you elected not to notice. You’re not turning this on me when he needs my help.”

Forrest scowled and raked his fingers through his hair. “Never, huh? ‘It was a long time ago’ ring a bell to you? Never mind. Whatever. Just…you’re too nice, Alex. I don’t want to see you get taken advantage of by a deadbeat ex or friend or whatever he is.”

“Deadbeat?” Alex whisper-shrieked. “I just told you he’s my friend, and you, what, you have to tear him down because of that? The only goddamn thing you know about him is what he has the audacity to Google next to you when you’re writing your oh-so-important Nazi fanfic, so maybe hold off on the judgment.”

Forrest’s eyebrows climbed towards his hairline as Alex spoke, and by the time Alex was done he was storming out of the bedroom, Alex on his heels. “Okay, sure. Yeah, that’s it, I’m just jealous of the guy who hangs around you begging for scraps because you two used to get your dicks wet and he can’t move on like you did. Whatever. That’s none of my business, right. I do have eyes, Alex. I see what’s going on. But I’ll see you around some other time, once you’re over the power trip he gives you.”

“Forrest, wait. Forrest!”

“I’ll see you around, Alex. Buffy, come on, girl,” he called with a whistle, barely stopping to get her leash on before storming out of the house, slamming the front door behind him.

And then Alex was alone in the entryway, watching Forrest leave through the window, stalking right past Michael huddled in a deck chair without a glance, and Alex’s jaw clenched harder when Forrest slammed his car door shut too and sped away.

Fuck. Fuck him. This wasn’t their first fight by any means, but the part of Alex that suspected he was too fucked up for an easy, normal relationship said maybe it was their last.

Would that be so bad? Would Alex actually miss Forrest, or would he miss the kind of relationship Forrest gave him, the kind that felt like what he should want, the kind that made him happier than loneliness did all the time except when it didn’t?

Okay, but now wasn’t the time to think thoughts like that, not in the moment, not so immediately, with hurt and anger still pumping red inside him. Especially not when the fault was largely Alex’s fault for not giving him warning in advance. Now was the time for deep breaths and not throwing things against the wall, no matter how much he might want to.

And as the fury left him, bit by bit, as his pulse slowed and his muscles relaxed and the clock again ticked louder than his breathing, it left this behind:

Was Forrest right?

Was he taking advantage of Michael? No. His first instinct was no. Michael came to him when he was in need—something Alex still wasn’t letting himself stop to process.

But the thing Forrest said about power…

If he searched himself, if he had to put it in such terms: Michael did make Alex feel powerful. He always had. From the very first day, when Alex offered the only thing he had—the rebellious kindness he practiced mostly because his father wanted to stamp it out—and Michael took it, took it shy and suspicious, but then grew towards him like a sunflower. That made him feel powerful. And it would be dishonest to say he didn’t feel powerful every time he came and went and no matter what Michael was still there waiting when he returned, no matter how much, yeah, Michael made him feel weak, too, knew just the right words to say to cut the deepest.

Control was a commodity. Alex starved for it his entire life and gorged himself when it was available, and only now was he in a place where he could begin on the work of balancing himself out. Michael told him once that he never said no to him—how able was Alex to judge when they crossed such old, familiar lines worn away by the traffic they’d seen over the past eleven years? How much could Michael be trusted to see those lines either, or to tell him if they were crossed instead of just taking it?

They needed to talk. They always needed to talk. It never got any easier. And what the hell was all the talking for, if not…that thing Forrest was worrying about? Not cheating, no, but was there still some part of him that still dreamed his old dream of what peace looked like, Michael in the early morning, and birdsong after rain, and nowhere to be but here?

A knock hesitated on the edge of Alex’s hearing, then came again, a little firmer, and anxiety propelled Alex down the foyer to answer it. Michael was still out there—something could have happened to him—or he could have left—Alex would call Isobel in to look for him, that was the backup plan, but—

Luckily, his front hall wasn’t long enough for him to truly get into a spiral; and even luckier, it was Michael at the door. Alex’s shoulders slumped with relief.

“You didn’t have to knock,” he said, stepping aside to let Michael back in.

Michael shrugged. “Wasn’t sure if you’d locked up in case Long decided to come back uninvited.”

With a snort, Alex closed the door and double checked both locks this time around. It really wasn’t like him to leave anything unlocked, but he’d pencil that freakout in for later.

That reminded him, though. “Speaking of locking up, here.” He opened a drawer in the little hall table and tossed Michael a spare key. “If you’re going to be going into work, or even just going out to hang out with Max and Isobel or Maria or someone.”

Michael caught it, but then he just stared at it like it was a shaken can of soda about to pop. “I, uh, kind of figured I’d be getting out of your hair.”

No! Alex wanted to shout, his already frayed nerves colliding with the visceral thought of Max’s healing failing or reversing somehow and Michael dying alone on the floor of his trailer. But he kept his voice level when he spoke, “I thought we talked about this.”

“We did! But I thought, with Forrest—”

“He can get pissed at me all he wants. The important thing is that we don’t know what Jones might try next, and we don’t know how what he did to you works, and as long as your powers aren’t back to normal…”

“I don’t want to—”

Heart rabbiting in his chest, Alex burst out, “Look, I get that you don’t want to be here, but my first priority is your safety, and—!”

“Of course I want to be here!” Michael interrupted. His eyes were wide and wild, hair a halo around his face.

“You—”

Both of them were panting like they’d run for miles, done anything but the running away and around each other they’d done their whole lives. The setting sun lined Michael in gold, slanted across the floor and the walls and got in Alex’s eyes but left the rest of him untouched.

Alex licked his lips and tried to speak again. “You don’t want to leave?”

Raking his hand through his curls, Michael replied, “Of course I don’t. I never want to leave. I want…” He spread his arms wide in a helpless gesture. “I don’t even know. Everything I’ve always wanted! But before anything else, I just want you to be happy. I’d never forgive myself if I destroyed your life even more than I already have.”

“What are you talking about?” Alex demanded. “Destroy my life? I’m the one who put you in my father’s path—I’m the one who—”

“No, Alex.”

He stepped forward like he might reach out. Alex wanted him to, but. What was he allowed to want? How had they gotten here, to this point, again or for the first time, and Alex still didn’t know the answer?

“That’s ancient history,” Michael said gently. “You could never destroy anything, you’re…”

Alex let out a harsh laugh. “Have you met me?”

“Alex.”

“I literally went into the business of destroying things and chose it four times since, even after it destroyed a part of myself.”

Furious tears blurred his vision, blurred Michael, and it only made him angrier and more desperate. What didn’t he understand?

“Yeah, and I think that sucks!” Michael said, chest rising and falling like it might if he was laughing, but the sound he made was more like hailstones, heavier and colder than rain. “But I—I’ve made my own sucky choices, too, I’m not letting you take credit for them just so you can bury yourself with them.”

“You were the one who started talking about destruction. I’m not letting you do that either,” Alex accused. “What could you possibly be destroying except yourself? I’m the one keeping you here.”

“Really? Like I didn’t just punch a hole through your relationship just by hangin’ around? I’m no good and you know that, Alex, you should—”

His heart fluttered so fast he had to clear his throat before he could talk.

“Should just walked out that door. And he took his dog,” he said breathlessly.

A beat of silence followed. Then, the corner of Michael’s mouth twitched—Alex’s eyes dropped to watch it—and he dissolved into disbelieving giggles, leaning back against the door like he needed it to hold himself up.

When he could speak again, he thumbed a tear away from the corner of his eye and said, “What are we doing here, Alex?”

“I—don’t know. I never know what I’m doing.”

“That’s not true.”

“Okay, emotionally,” Alex allowed. “Forrest wanted to date me, and he’s so normal, I thought I could, I don’t know, follow his lead and things would just slot into place. But I’m starting to think it doesn’t work that way.”

“I gotta tell you, Alex, you’ve never been great at follow the leader,” Michael said, so gently Alex almost felt it on his skin, a palm cupping his cheek.

“But I can try. I can learn new things,” he said. “So—what about your lead? What, what are we doing here?”

Michael swallowed, the apple of his throat bobbing.

“I’m as clueless as you,” he said. “And I’m not ashamed to say shit scared, either. There’s a lot of things with you and me I’ve spent a long time telling myself either won’t work out or shouldn’t. I’m scared of all the shit I’ve said before. But some of it—a lot of it stands. I wanna be good for someone. I wanna be good for you, even if I know I’ll never be perfect—”

“You don’t have to be perfect. Nobody’s perfect,” Alex breathed.

“Right. That’s what they tell me.”

The two of them balanced on the edge of a knife, barely enough oxygen between them to sustain them both without sharing. There were always two ways this could go. The paths diverged again and again and again and they turned away from the clear path so many times it made the both of them half-feral. But, inevitable, like the summer sun, like gravity and escape velocity, here they were, again, at the crossroads.

Michael swallowed again, then his lips parted, then again.

“What do you want to say, Michael?” Alex asked.

“I want to tell you that I love you. That I have for a long time.” His voice cracked. “And that, no matter what happens, I always will. But I don’t know what to do with it, after this long, and now that things have been good between us, what if we fuck it up again? What if—”

Alex’s mind whirled, with words he thought he’d never hear, with the accusations Forrest had hurled his way, about power and control and all those things that, like Michael’s heart, Alex had far to go to wield responsibly, but here was a greater truth:

Alex had never been great at talking.

He seized the front of Michael’s shirt in both fists and hauled him in for a kiss.

Michael gasped against his mouth. His lips were hot, all of him burned, blazed against Alex wherever they touched, and they touched, as Michael relaxed against him, his hands grasping Alex by the elbows and sliding up to his shoulders, the sides of his neck, holding him there as they swayed, mouths locked together. He tasted just as Alex remembered. A cascade of shudders washed down his spine and washed away every other sensation.

They kissed in the sunset sunlight, in Alex’s home in front of the front windows, and Alex buried his hands in Michael’s hair and devoured him in the open, away from any place he used to hide him, under bedsheets, in anonymous rooms, in the back of his head when he was sure he was alone. When they pulled apart, they came back together, both of them insatiable, until Alex’s lips buzzed and the ache from standing too long crept in.

Michael was wobbly too, so Alex took him by the hand and pulled him deeper inside.

“We should probably keep talking,” Michael rasped.

“We’ve got a lot of time for that. As much as we need,” Alex promised.

He knew his priorities, now. That was a promise he’d never break again.

“Forrest—”

“If he didn’t mean to break up with me when he left an hour ago, I’ll take responsibility,” Alex dismissed.

“Okay, okay.”

When Alex glanced over at Michael, he was smiling and shaking his head.

“What?”

“Nothing. I just forgot how much I like a man who takes charge.”

At that, Alex had to laugh too, and the sound came out so different, light and giddy, that he surprised himself.

“Bullshit,” he said. “After all this time, you think you still have to flirt with me?”

Michael tugged him by their joined hands. They’d only made it as far as the den and they were kissing again, just long enough to get them buzzing again.

“Only ‘cause you like it,” Michael murmured against his lips. “It’s a crowd pleaser.”

“I love it,” Alex confirmed, so soft he shaped the words more than he said them, but they were loud to him—Michael’s face changed, and Alex knew they were loud enough.