#i got stuck at “on a rail” months ago and just picked it back up a couple days ago

[okaydiscount]

stupid thing i made a couple months ago i remember i made :]

[kanencrow]

Hii can you do gwen x fem!reader who’s also a spiderwomen? (maybe with musically inclined abilities like hobie)

Her Spider-Muse - Across The Spiderverse | Headcanon

A/N: Thank you for the request! I feel like I went a little off the rails with this one, but I tried to still center it around what you wanted. Hope you enjoy!

SUMMARY: How would Gwen Stacy be with a girlfriend who’s a musically inclined Spider-Woman?

WARNINGS: All characters are 18+. Spoilers for Across the Spiderverse. Fem!Reader.

WORD COUNT: 1500+

Gwen is absolutely enraptured with you. She thinks of herself as the luckiest girl in the world, because not only are you her girlfriend, but you’re also Spider-Woman, and you can play instruments. She likes the fact that, other than the common identity you and her share, you both can easily relate with one another in an entirely different aspect. She loves music herself, even though she quit her band, but that didn’t necessarily have anything to do with her passion for playing the drums. They just weren’t her crowd, but you are to her, and she likes to take advantage of that every now and then by having you jam out with her whenever the two of you are having a particularly slow day of crime-fighting. 

Since you’re also Spider-Woman, it’s really interesting to know what your own special abilities are. You and her both knew of the spiderverse, and how there were billions of different Spider-People like you and her, but they all seemed to be different in their own right, and so she just thought the same applied to you. Especially when she had first met you late one night, while she was swinging back home to get some much needed rest. An odd looking, bright portal had appeared, and out came you. It was a rough landing, and you definitely made a sound of hurt at the harsh fall, but it didn’t take you very long to get up on your feet and freak out, because you had absolutely no idea where you had been taken. 

Your first interaction with her was a little rocky, but things swiftly smoothed out not too long after. Realizing that you were also Spider-Woman, who used music as a way to express your powers, in a way that was pretty different from your typical Spider-Person, was a pretty fascinating thing to her. Only later on did you and her realize that Hobie was similar in that way, but at the time, you were the only other Spider-Person she knew of. And then when you and her were eventually sucked out of your own worlds and plopped into Earth-1610, things just got a little crazy from there. You met Miles Morales, and then Peter Parker, and Spider-Man Noir, Peni Parker, and even Porky Parker, which was kind of interesting to you. 

You didn’t know a pig could be Spider-Man.

Throughout that time, your relationship with Gwen grew. Because the both of you had known each other a bit longer than any of the other Spider-People you eventually met, you and her remained at each other's sides through the thick of everything all those months ago. When it was all said and done, you – unfortunately – went back home, but it wasn’t before the blonde confessed to you that she liked you, as more than a friend. And so, throughout the stand still, where you were stuck in your own world, and she was stuck in hers, it made things very difficult. For the both of you.

But then when the second round of portals appearing happened, and you were picked up by Miguel O’Hara and Jess Drew, you begged them to let you see Gwen. But it seemed as though your Spider-Woman was already twenty steps ahead of you. When you made it to Earth-928 and met a ton of other Spider-People who apparently resided in what they called a spider society, you also reunited with the person you had been wanting to see for far too long. 

That time of your life was an interesting one, though. Getting watches that allowed you to go into other worlds was pretty cool. Honestly, it was how you and Gwen spent some of your dates. You would bring your guitar with you, strap it to your back, and she would ask you to play some songs for her, while the two of you sat on the edge of some random building, in some random universes’ version of New York. Those nights in particular were comforting. They brought the both of you solace, and took your minds away from the thoughts of tomorrow, and what certain villains were planning on gifting you. 

Sitting on top of a building was also where you and her shared your first kiss. It was a quiet night. You were tired, and so was she. Your mask rested on your thigh as your hand rested over it to keep it in place, while Gwen had hers settled to the side. No one was able to see the two of you. It felt like a little secret safe space to you and her, and in a way, it was. You and her were simply talking about nothing particularly important, and then the topic of your favorite hobby, the thing you were passionate about, came up. You went on and on about it, a smile on your lips the entire time, and the blonde couldn’t help but stare at you as though you were the only other person in the world. 

A flurry of heavy emotions entered her stomach the longer you spoke, and it eventually got to a point where she quietly scooted in close, as she reached a hand up to rest it on your jaw. Immediately, you stopped speaking when you felt her gloved palm touch you, still adorned in her suit, and the moment your gaze met hers, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against yours. It was gentle and soft. So much so to the point where it almost brought tears to your eyes. The way she conveyed how much she cared about you through such a simple action threw your mind into a whirlwind. And so when the two of you inevitably pulled away, all you could do was stare at her with a parted mouth and an expression of utter shock. 

She thought it was cute. 

And honestly, you had a lot of other firsts with her. Not all of them were as soft as your first kiss, but those moments were still times in the relationship that you and her knew were always going to be remembered. 

Like smacking a villain in the face with your guitar. Or using a gadget you had made, that produced a deafening musical note. Unfortunately, it was a bust, considering it not only deafened your enemies, but also yourself and anyone else who was around. You and Gwen had ringing ears for a few days after that one, but hey, it was an experience neither of you regretted. What you did regret was breaking your instrument, though. So, you know… that wasn’t a very fun time for you. 

But all was fixed when you were gifted a spider-themed guitar for your birthday, by your wonderful girlfriend. She knew how attached you were to your prized instrument, and you definitely showed how thankful you were when you let out a happy little squeal the moment you unveiled the wrapped up box that encased your six string. Of course, you gave her a tight hug that proved how appreciative you were, and she couldn’t stop herself from giggling softly and pressing a kiss to the side of your head. She always liked it when you’d get overly excited over something that might have been seen as mundane to someone else.  

Since you and her are both Spider-Women, too, there’s definitely been a time where you’ve asked to do the cliche Spider-Man kiss. It came to your mind one time when you and Gwen were swinging through New York. You called to her and asked her about it, and she let out a loud laugh before voicing how she wasn’t entirely against the idea, but also how that movie kiss was way too over-fantasized. As in, she doubted it would have been nearly as enjoyable as it seemed in the movies. 

Still, she entertained the idea. 

It wasn’t terribly bad, but you and her would have much rather kissed each other normally. It was a cute moment, though. Lots of giggles and smiles against each others’ mouths, before one of you would pull away and let out an amused giggle that almost caused you to fall, whenever you decided to be Spider-Man in the situation. When Gwen tried being the latter, she actually did fall, but because of her abilities, she managed to correct herself before she bashed her head against the floor. 

After that, you and her stopped doing it. 

You didn’t want your girlfriend to get hurt, even though she was very durable, like you.

It was just that natural protective nature the both of you had towards one another. 

Naturally, it comes out when you and your partner both live a life that consists of fighting crime. But you and her make up for it. When everything has settled down, and the streets seem to be clean of idiotic villainous wannabes – for the time being – you and her sneakily go back to spider society to rest for the remainder of the night, or back to the apartment that you and her bought, for the sake of being closer to each other. Especially on the nights when nightmares creep into your minds, and you both are needing the comfort of one another. Either way, the two of you are inseparable. 

Just like you and your guitar. 

[randomtacoscry]

WIP Wednesday

Honestly, I wrote this a month ago (and totally forgot about it), but since I'm probably not going to finish it.... I thought I'd finally post one of these again in celebration of the 911 finale airing tomorrow. So... (sorry people who followed me for top gun but) here is a short buddie fic! (It's set right after like 7x06 but is canon compliant to 7x05) There's more after the break >>

A slow work day was all Buck needed after everything that's been happening lately—Chim getting attacked, Maddie freaking out over their entire wedding, the whole Tommy-break-up-thing. Honestly, all he wanted to do was have an easy shift, and it had been just that so far. 

That is until the last call of the shift. God, one more hour and he would’ve been home free…

—

“...multiple lacerations so they could be bleeding out.” Bobby turns back to the road and Buck picks up speed to the mall.

“Ambulance won’t start,” Hen’s voice comes crackling through the radio as he peels out onto the main road. “We’ll meet you there in the ladder truck.” They didn’t have time to turn around so hopefully Hen and Chim could get there quickly. It’s early so there shouldn’t be much traffic.

“You and Eddie will go in and I’ll wait for Chim and Hen. We got a light crew today but that shouldn’t be a problem, right boys?” Bobby turns back to Eddie and Buck can feel him smiling behind him.

“Nope. Hen trained me well!” Eddie’s alone in the back and Buck almost wished Ravi was with them just to give them some more backup. He had a bad feeling about this call for some reason…

“Third floor?” 

“Yep.” Buck says as they make their way into the pitch black mall, only the full moon above lighting the tiled floors.

“Ever been in a mall after closing?” Eddie makes his way to the stairwell before looking up at the levels of stairs above them.

“Nope.” Meeting him there, Buck can’t help but dread the flights ahead. “But I can’t say I’m the biggest fan.” It was a bit eerie if Buck said so himself; the dark shadows and only the sound of him and Eddie’s boots making their way across the floor. 

“Elevator?” And Buck could kiss him right there. 

Clicking the third level, Buck leans against the wall and waits to hear the gears start turning. He lets out a huff of air and can feel Eddie’s eyes staring into him. “What?”  He turns his head before looking over at the shorter firefighter, whose hands are placed on the railing behind him, giving Buck a clear look at his physique, even with the uniform. 

“You okay?” Of course he could tell. Buck hadn’t exactly been vocal about him and Tommy ending things (he actually hasn’t told anyone yet) but of course Eddie knew every one of Buck’s tells to figure out something was going on. 

“Yeah-” Buck would elaborate with some excuse about being tired if it was for the jerk of the elevator and clicking sound. They didn’t quite reach floor three though.

They were stuck.

“Shit.” As soon as Eddie notices the stagnant ‘2’ on the display, he reaches for his radio, “Cap, elevator’s stuck.” 

“Do you have the patient?” 

“We were going up to get her,” Eddie lets out a huff before continuing, “didn’t quite make it.” 

“Hen and Chim here yet?” Buck clicks into his radio to ask and Bobby doesn’t reply immediately. “Cap?” Buck tries again before Eddie locks eyes with him, also confused. 

“Guys, we got a problem.” Chim’s voice comes through the radio and Buck already knows it’s going to be a long night.

—

Apparently, there was a fucking robbery going on upstairs. Or, at least, now there is. Bobby informing Eddie and Buck that there’s a few hostages in the jewelry section of the mall and that one of them got away to make a phone call is now the highlight of Buck’s day. Great. They’re dealing with being stuck in an overheating elevator, with no backup, at three in the morning, while there’s a robbery going on thirty feet away. 

“Sit down, Buck.” Eddie breaks Buck out of his mind from his seat against the wall and Buck obliges, sinking down across from him. They’ve been here for a good fifteen minutes now and at this point, Buck just wanted to get away from Eddie. Not that Eddie was bad in any way, it was just…. 

Awkward. 

For Buck, at least.

Why? Oh no reason, just Tommy may have alluded to Buck having more-than-platonic feelings for his best friend of six years and he wasn’t exactly keen on humoring that take. That wild, ridiculous, unrealistic take. And wrong. The take was wrong. 

He had said it so naturally too:

“Evan, it’s okay.” Tommy’s eyes softened and Buck couldn’t quite fathom the words coming out of his mouth. 

“I don’t–” Buck shook his head before looking back at Tommy’s knowing face. “I’m not-”

“Evan.” Buck let out a breath of air before letting the pilot continue whatever horrors that were to be said next. “I saw it the first time you mentioned him.” And Buck can’t quite think of when that was. Maybe right before their first kiss; before his world flipped on its head and his eyes were fully open for maybe the first time in his life? Or maybe when he took the tour with Tommy? Or maybe the phone call when asking for the tour?

“How–?” Buck didn’t think he believed it, but that was the only word that came out. 

“I knew what I was getting into, Evan. This wasn’t going to be forever.” And maybe that stung. Maybe those words hurt like when Tommy had said he ‘wasn’t ready’ for them. Maybe those words would’ve affected Buck if he wasn’t still reeling from his supposed feelings for his best friend. “I think you knew that too.” Did he?

Since that night, Buck’s pushed those feelings back. Far. To the depths of his mind where they shall never see the light of day. Or so he thought. But those thoughts are slowly working their way to the front of Buck’s mind as he takes in the tanned, exhausted firefighter in front of him. The small beads of sweat beginning to make their way down the sides of Eddie’s face before he wiped them away with the back of his hand. His jaw locking as his muscles in his arm tense while he raises his hand. Buck could’ve drooled, but decides to take the more responsible path of ignoring the warm feelings blossoming in his chest (and probably face). 

“Tommy and I broke up.” He doesn’t know why he says it. Maybe to break the silence or take his mind off the man in front of him and place it on another. Eddie turns to look at him and Buck can’t quite place the emotions painting his face. It seems like a mix between pity and confusion and Buck doesn't exactly feel like answering any questions right now.

“Sorry to hear that.” It’s reserved, and Buck gets the sense that there’s a part of Eddie that doesn’t quite mean the sentiment. They both let out a deep breath and Buck tries to ignore the movement of Eddie’s throat as he swallows. Ugh. Why’d he have to be trapped here, now, with Eddie of all people. 

Buck almost wants to elaborate. To continue talking for the sole sake of removing the uncomfortable silence between the two of them but he’s not exactly keen on where that elaboration may lead. “How’s Marisol?” Nope. That’s worse. So much worse.

Eddie looks up to Buck, his face now free of the apparent conflicted emotions he was having a minute ago. Buck can see the way his eyes dart around, not quite making eye contact with Buck until he opens his mouth. “Fine.” 

That’s it? Fine? 

Personally, Buck thought it was going decently well between the two, which is now starting to sound more like an amicable, boring acquaintance rather than a romantic relationship. But Buck wasn’t exactly upset with the answer. He almost lets himself take a sigh of relief until he’s realizing why the hell he’d be relieved in the first place.

Good.

Fine means good. So Eddie and Marisol are doing good. Which means they’re not going to break up or end things anytime soon so there’s no reason for Buck to get any hopes up (not like he should in the first place) but—

“Buck?” Eddie snaps him out of his mind again and Buck wants to curse himself for spiraling. So what if Marisol and Eddie are great; good for them.

“Yeah?” Eddie looks down at his hands, pondering, before his eyes lock onto Buck’s. They don’t look away from each other, even as Buck can feel his throat tightening. A wave of heat travels through Buck’s stomach and he has to consciously take a breath to keep himself breathing. Buck can feel his face burning up and he can’t quite figure out if it’s because of the prolonged eye contact, gradually warming box they’re trapped in, or maybe just his suit trapping his body heat too well. Buck notices the way Eddie bites his bottom lip, which means he’s thinking of how to continue what he’s going to say, before he finally breaks their eye contact. It’s hard not to stare at the other man as he wets his lips and huffs out a breath of air before finally opening his mouth to speak, and honestly, Buck would rather just press his lips against his to keep him from saying another word. To finally taste his lips instead of remembering the thick, red liquid that he imagines when he pictures himself running his tongue over the man’s body. 

“Chris told me, the other day,” Eddie starts after a long breath and Buck can feel his shoulders tensing for some reason, “he wants me to be happy.” While he can’t quite see where this is going, Buck nods along, hoping the conversation can move his mind from the thoughts that have been on a loop since Tommy left. “What if…” Eddie looks back to Buck and he feels himself raise his eyebrows with a nod, a reaction of his that Eddie knows means ‘it’s okay, keep going’. “I don’t think Marisol makes me…happy.” The last word sounds foreign on Eddie’s tongue; like he’s never humored the possibility of someone making him happier than he thinks he should be.

[lemonsrosesandlavender]

WIPs Update!

I was organising this with a friend and thought I may as well share, in case you’ve ever thought “huh that idea sounded interesting” and wondered where it disappeared to!

Ongoing Longfics

Planar Tears, 21/40, highest priority! I am hoping to keep up the 1-2 week typical update pace. Agshahajajajjaja guys you have no idea how excited I am for the Shadow Cursed Lands, and a scene I’ve been building to since the beginning. Multiple scenes, in fact. It’s going to be JUICY.

In Service of Magic, 3/25, medium priority. Chapter 4 is partially drafted and I’m very excited to finish this one. Ohhhh Phaere. She’s gonna have her way with him a lot. (I am also very excited for their honeymoon phase to wear off and the conflict to begin… so that l can resolve it with more kinky sex of course!)

Partially Drafted Oneshots

Fingering the Fist (Lia x Nine Fingers) This has been on my to-finish list for ages and I made some progress recently so I SWEAR it is coming soon! (It’s ~2000 words and Lia gets spanked. Mmmmmhnmmmm.)

Rolan x Steel Weave Tav Rimming I’m only a few hundred words into this one, but I want to do it so bad because someone requested it months ago and I very enthusiastically said YES (and I still very enthusiastically feel that way!)

Subby Rolan in Rut (Rolan x f!Tav) This has been stewing at ~1000 words in my drafts for a while. Heat/rut for tieflings isn’t my usual headcanon, but I am enjoying playing around with it. Also this one comes with a sizeable dose of Feelings. Lower priority than the first two in this section, but I am very keen to finish it!

Basically Just Ideas

Oh boy, I want to write ALL the things! I’ll probably have forgotten some off this list, lmao.

Rolan x Lennie Car Sex Changeover day at camp, and someone’s got to go buy drinks for the counsellors’ party. Lennie offers… and everyone else is surprised to see Rolan volunteer to go with her. Needless to say, they don’t make it to the nearest town before parking up and having endearingly awkward car sex (and Rolan gets a spanking because of COURSE)

More Rolan x Lennie generally. Juggling four OCs is so frustrating because I want to write about *all* of them! And Lennie deserves her time in the spotlight too. I’m thinking bonding over the campfire, tied-to-a-tree blowjobs, and love confessions during Seven Minutes in Heaven. We’re going all out on the all-American summer camp tropes.

“Trapped” - Rolan x SW Tav. Probably a duo chapter of stories in which Rolan gets caught by various traps in the vaults, and Tav has fun with that. C1 will be the “Miniaturised Rolan” idea, and C2 some classic “Stuck in the Wall” filth. I want to write C1 PARTICULARLY bad unph. The way this idea has stuck with me…

Omega!Rolan x Alpha! F! Tav After the Shadow Cursed Lands rescue, the wave of relief that Rolan feels unleashes something in him… a heat he’s long sought to repress with magic. And now it is here, with a vengeance, so much stronger for all the years he tried to hold it back. Lucky, then, that Tav is an unbonded Alpha, and both she and Rolan have been nursing feelings for each other that roar to life and shatter all their carefully laid plans. (Aka pick up that pretty man and rail him into oblivion, probably until he gets pregnant).

Fae Bindings Multi chapter Rolan x Steelweave Tav that I have been wanting to write for ages, featuring the Tower crew going on a quest, and Tav and Rolan exploring their kink relationship more deeply. (Probably set between Along the Chionthar and Combat Training). I have a bunch of kink thoughts and dom/sub drop stuff I want to write about. Also potentially the place for that sussur wood kink I teased a LONG time ago. However… I am struggling to see when I’ll have the brain space for a THIRD proper multi chapter on the go. Unfortunately. Argh.

And that’s about it, I think! This isn’t comprehensive because well, I just have Rolan and OC thoughts coming out of my ears. Is Rolan’s existence just a vehicle to make up hot women who explore their feelings about kink?!… no but also yes. Lmao. Thank you to everyone who’s expressed interest in various of these stories! I can’t wait to write and share them ❤️

[manorpunk]

(part three)

Tucked away in a sleepy corner of central Michigan, an abandoned mall had been transformed into the town of Webersberg. The crumbling ceiling above the concourses had been stripped, making a cluster of closely-packed buildings, and the expansive walkways exposed to the elements were now lined with trees and raised gardens. The empty boutiques had been repurposed into dormitories, offices, a clinic, a school, and a few simple stores. There was something humbling about it, like a medieval village sheltered beneath the ruins of a Roman basilica. One might wonder if the mall was happier now in its new incarnation, if it preferred to be filled with life rather than than gold.

Liam did not wonder. He lived there, and he found it stultifying. He hated living in a fishbowl, always going to the same places with the same people, few of whom cared to give him the time of day. He hated knowing that there was a whole world out there and he was stuck out in the manors[1]. He hated the maudlin isolation of being the only queer kid who hadn’t gotten the hell out of Webersberg, and most of all he hated knowing that he could get out too if he wasn’t a coward.

He had this conversation with himself every morning, and he knew that if he stayed in bed he’d just keep moping. He got up from his creaky mattress and turned toward the plywood dresser next to his bed. He took the small mirror that was sitting on top and looked at himself. He was on the pale side of white, with thin shoulders and scruffy black hair.[2] After a failed attempt to smooth down his bed-head, he set the mirror down and pulled out the top drawer of the dresser.

Tucked in the corner of the drawer behind neatly-folded socks and underwear, there was a small bottle of black nail polish that he had picked up from a GLN dole[3] a few months ago. Women usually snatched up all the cosmetics, so he was excited to get something for himself. He had daydreamed about putting it on, but there it sat, unopened and gathering dust.

There was a knock at the door. It was his father, Roy. “Liam! You decent?”

“Gimme a minute,” Liam called back. He grabbed some clothes - jeans and a plain t-shirt, clothing as neutral as water - and threw them on.

“Alright, what’s up?”

His father opened the door, grinning wide. “You good to work at the diner today?”

“It’s Thursday, isn’t it?”

“It sure is, and there’s gonna be a road-and-rail crew[4] stopping by for the day. You know what that means.”

To his dad, it meant money. His dad managed the local Denny’s, which meant that he had tricked himself into believing he was a pillar of the community, and not just another petty grinder.

“It means I’ll get harassed by drunk shitheads all day. Great. Fun,” Liam groaned. He looked at his dad, hoping for something, something like ‘I understand you don’t like it but I need the extra help,’ or ‘sorry to impose on you.’ Liam was only twenty years old and still naive like that.

“So you good to go?” his dad said.

Liam rubbed his forehead. In truth, he really didn’t have much else to do, and didn’t have any friends to hang out with. At least he wouldn’t be alone all day if he was at work. Plus, he kind of liked wearing the apron.

“Fine, whatever,” he said, feeling like he had lost a battle against himself.

The place wasn’t exactly bustling when he got there. It was still morning, and the only people there were a few old couples having breakfast, along with Kieth, the already-high line cook, nursing a cup of coffee.

“Hey dude. You alright?” Kieth asked, following Liam as he went into the kitchen.

“What gave it away?” Liam sighed.

Kieth shook his head. “I just felt your vibes. You’ve got the sads all around you. Anyway, I got some news I think’ll cheer you up. Guess who’s coming to town?”

Liam tried, but couldn’t even think of a good guess. “Who?”

“Fuckin JMR, dude.”

Liam’s sleepy eyes snapped wide open. He was suddenly breathless with excitement, so excited that his voice got higher and thinner. “Seriously?”

Keith nodded. Liam let out an excited squeak, then heard his father clear his throat behind him. He whirled around, already guessing what was coming, and his beaming smile twisted down into a rebellious frown.

“Now, son. You know how your mom feels about that man.”

“My mom thinks I’ll stop being a fag if I don’t meet other fags,” Liam spat. The words seem to burst out of him, he didn’t say them so much as he failed to keep them bottled up.

“Whoa, that’s heavy,” Kieth said.

“Kieth, shut up. Liam, listen. It’s not like that. It’s for your own protection. That man is a creep and a pervert, he-“

“God, spare me,” Liam huffed. He had finally run out of patience. His body trembled with adrenaline and pent-up anger, and it felt intoxicatingly good. “It’s all about ‘toughening me up’ and ‘making me a man’ until there’s another gay person around and then suddenly I need to be ‘protected.’ Just be honest and say you wish I wasn’t a queer.”

Kieth discreetly sipped his coffee. Roy pursed his lips and took deep, silent breaths. As far as Liam was concerned, it was an admission of guilt.

“Well? Anything to say for yourself?” Liam said.

“Hark!” A voice suddenly boomed from the dining area. It was a deep, smooth, commanding voice, the type of voice fit for a starship captain.

A man had just entered the Denny’s, a man with tan skin and dirty blond hair dressed in deliriously fancy clothing. He wore an aristocratic embroidered blue jacket with epaulets, tall black boots with stiletto heels, and form-fitting white riding pants of the style sometimes known as jodhpurs. His hair, soft and well-cared for even from a distance, was pulled back in a simple ponytail, and a short and neatly trimmed beard lined his face. Hitched to his belt, an ornate saber rested in its scabbard. He looked like an old cavalry officer or Prussian aristocrat who had somehow stumbled into the year 206X, and his name was Jacob Martin Rider - JMR for short.

○○○○○

[1] ‘The manors’ is a slang term for rural areas which are generally too distant and sparsely-populated to be under the full purview of the central state authority; places where heaven is high and the emperor is far away, cf. The sticks, the boonies, the peasants, etc.

[2] You didn’t hear it from us but he looks a little like the doomer boy wojak.

[3] The ‘GLN dole’ refers to the Global Logistics Network’s practice of buying up unwanted consumer goods from distributors and distributing it amongst the manors. This effectively acts as a subsidy for (GLN-owned) distributors and lets them pretend that they’re still serious about wealth redistribution. Everyone involved wins and the GLN is duly thanked for its beneficence.

[4] Road-and-rail crews are itinerant laborers sent off to the middle of nowhere to dig up disused highways and lay down new railroad lines, hence the name. The work is physically demanding and socially isolating, but well-compensated. They have the typical reputation one would expect of itinerant laborers, i.e. drunken trouble-making shitkickers.

[eponastory]

Tell My Heart To Beat

Chapter 4 - The Forest

He had barely been home for a week when he walked down the stairs to see Lady sitting in his chair... at his desk. Dante groaned when he realized she must be there to collect on a debt from before he took a smooth trip to the Underworld. Although he had been gone for a month, it made sense that she was there to see him just to make sure he was still in one piece.

"What took you so long to show up?" He made his way down the steps with his black t-shirt and red pants. He had a towel in his hand from drying his hair after a long shower.

"Oh, you know... a job." She swatted a fly on the desk with a rolled up newspaper. "Some idiot tried summoning a demon and got a little more than he bargained for." Dante threw the towel over the railing as he reached the bottom of the stairs. "Looks like you survived your little vacation in Hades."

"Yeah, the beaches were fantastic." He sat down on the couch on the other side of the room. "I think I may have to get a new coat." He gestured to the charred red coat hanging up on the rack behind Lady. She looked at it with scrutiny.

"Jeeze, I think you're right." She leaned over to pick up the fringes of his very damaged coat. "What did you get in a fight with down there?" It still smelled of brimstone and demon blood. He watched her face go sour when she smelled the same thing. "Ugh... did you fall into a skunk pit?" Lady stuck out her tongue and waved her hand in front of her face.

"No, just a nest or two of demons." He chuckled at how she reacted. "Anyway, I hope you aren't here to bug me about money... cause I don't have any." He smirked at her when she put her elbows on the desk.

"It's a good thing I'm not here for that." As if on cue, Morrison walked through the door with a cigar in his hand and an envelope full of cash. "Speak of the devil..." Lady smirked as the dark skinned man approached her.

"My, my, never thought you'd look so pretty as a woman, Dante." The man in question snorted as Morrison looked over Lady with a wink.

"Over my dead body." Dante stood up. "Besides, it's not every day I let someone sit in my chair without paying for it." He walked over to Lady and wrapped his arms around her. "My chair, my desk, my shop." He picked her up out of the chair.

"Dante, if you don't put me down right now, I'm going to shoot you in the forehead!" She meant it as she pulled her gun out and pointed it at his forehead. "Put. Me. Down."

"Okay." Dante smirked as he dropped her on the floor and sat in his chair. "You having fun down there?" He watched as she rubbed her hip and then stood up with a grimace.

"As much as I'd love to say yes, I'm going to have to pass." Lady ignored Dante's protest when she sat down on his desk. He gave up when she stuck her tongue out at him. It was a good thing he considered her his best friend. Otherwise, he would have told her to get lost years ago. "So, what do you have for us, Morrison?"

"Oh, just a job." The broker threw the envelope to Dante, who caught it with ease and opened it. "Ever heard of Raccoon Mountain?" He said nothing as he flipped through the cash inside. There was a pretty hefty amount in there.

"Yeah, that's about two hours out of town." Lady grabbed the envelope out of his hand and began to leaf through it herself. "I used to sneak out there with my friends when I was in school." She raised an eyebrow when she finished counting. "We used to do bon fires out there until the park service caught us."

"You got kicked out, didn't you?" Dante took the envelope back and put it in the right hand drawer of his desk before Lady could say anything. She snuck around him and went for the cash, but he slammed it shut before she could grab the money. "Ah, no. I don't think so." He held up a finger as she crossed her arms.

"Anyway, short end of the long stick, there is a woman missing in the forest." Morrison stated as Lady attempted to open the drawer again only for Dante to push her out of the way. "Her family sent out search parties to find her, but some of the people doing search and rescue came up missing themselves." For the right price, Dante would gladly go play search and rescue for a damsel in distress.

"Okay, so how long has she been missing?" He watched as Lady went around the front of his desk with a grim look on her face.

"Three months." Morrison took the cigar out of his mouth and tapped it on the ash tray on the corner of the desk. "You and I both know she is likely dead at this point, but anything can happen." Dante nodded, knowing the only reason he was going to be in that forest was to take care of a potential demon problem.

"Any idea who the missing woman is?" Lady held a curious look on her face, but neither of them were really prepared to hear what came out of Morrison's mouth.

"Alicent Malone." The two hunters looked at one another trying to rein in their shock. Dante ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Of all the things to hear. "I take it you've heard of the Malone family."

"That's an understatement." Lady said as she sat down on Dante's desk again.

"We've had dealings with them in the past." Flashes of that night in the hospital ran through Dante's head at a million miles per hour. "They are a shit family." That was also an understatement. He still had the letters from the Malone family attorney in his desk drawer. She sent them every year on Evan's birthday to remind him that he was a shit father. "But if they pay, I'll do it."

"Do they know that it's Dante that they are hiring?" The female hunter was pretty sure that if they knew, they would probably drop the gig altogether. There was bad blood between the Malone's and Dante.

"No, I just told them I knew someone who could do the job, no questions asked." The old man put hus cigar in his mouth and pulled something from the inside of his blazer. "They handed me the cash and said there was an equal amount when the job is finished." He threw a folded up piece of paper on the desk towards Dante. "You might want to start with this guy. He was the last person to see her the night she disappeared." The devil hunter unfolded the paper to find a name and an address written down. Underneath was a small summary of what the man had witnessed written in delicate cursive. At the bottom was the Malone family crest.

"Alright, I'll take the job." Lady cleared her throat and looked at Dante with a glare.

"WE... will take the job." She told Morrison as she pointed to herself and then to Dante. "There is no way you are doing this one alone, pal." He rolled his eyes.

"Fine, we will take the job." He propped his feet up on the desk as usual. "We'll leave in the morning." He looked to Lady for confirmation, but she continued to glare at him. "Scratch that. We'll leave when Lady says we will leave." He shook his head and waved her off with a groan.

"Great!" There was a happy smile on Morrison's face when Dante agreed to take on this particular job. "I'll let the family know."

"Just don't mention my name." The last thing he needed was for another letter from their lawyer showing up. "It causes trouble." The broker nodded before turning around with a tip of his hat.

"Sure thing. I'll see ya'll later." As soon as the door closed, Lady looked right at Dante with a serious expression on her face. He knew she was going to ask him if he was really okay with taking this job.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" The concern in her mismatched eyes was comforting to Dante. She cared about him enough to know when he was hiding his feelings behind the hard exterior he projected most days. "You might find something you won't like." That was entirely true, but the past was the past. He was doing this more for Evan than for Ali.

"That is a very high possibility, but I'm not doing it for her." The reason was left unspoken, but Lady nodded in understanding. "In the meantime, I suppose I'll be digging out one of the old coats." He put his feet on the floor and stood up with his chair sliding backward. "I was planning on changing up the wardrobe a bit anyway."

"Well, I suppose I better go visit my dealer." Lady pushed herself off his desk. "I'll be back in an hour." He nodded as she left him alone for the time being.

He really did not know how he felt. There was a sense of urgency, but it was because he had a close connection with the case. He would have taken the case regardless if he knew the missing woman or not. The money alone was good reason to take it on, but there was a flash of remorse when Ali's name came out. He was not stupid enough to allow those feelings to come flooding back in. All that would do is cloud his judgment.

Dante managed to find his old red coat in record time. He had almost thrown it away when he decided to make a change. Somehow, putting that old coat on brought back a little nostalgia. It was like saying hello to an old friend. Sure, he probably looked somewhere between his old self and the miserable man he was at that moment, but what could he do about it?

For starters, he could get off his ass and do something about it rather than wallow in his own depression. Dante knew he made mistakes. One of them was coming back to haunt him now, and he was actually afraid of what he might find out in that forest. It bothered him. The news had definitely shaken him, even brought up some worries that the family was not being honest.

He sighed as Lady came strolling in through the door with Kalina Ann strapped to her back. She was dressed for the winter weather with jeans, a white long-sleeved shirt and a cozy looking jacket. The cold was a problem for her as he found out years ago when she came home from a job sick as a dog.

"We should go before it starts snowing." Lady paid more attention to forecasts than Dante ever did. He nodded as he placed Rebellion on his back before taking Ebony and Ivory off the wall behind him. "I've got us a ride so we don't have to freeze our faces off."

"That's a plus." Dante put his guns in their holsters, waiting for Lady to lead the way. "Let's hope the heater works in this one." He smirked.

"Funny." Lady walked out the door with him following close behind her. "My dealer let me borrow this baby."

The old Bronco was not his idea of a good ride, but it did its job getting them from point A to point B. It was cozy enough even though he was fine with the cold. Of course, he volunteered to drive since Lady was counting rounds on their way out of the city. As usual, the snow started falling right as they got to the turnoff for the park. With daylight slowly fading, the blue-gray of the sky made the forest around them feel eerie.

With the snow falling, it all seemed to give Dante a feeling of dread as they got closer to their destination. He could see the lights of the gas station up ahead on the left, right where the paper said it was. As he pulled into the small parking lot, Dante noticed there was a distinct lack of vehicles parked there. Not unusual, but the old truck parked out to the side gave indication that the owner was there.

"Talk about your run of the mill in the middle of nowhere gas station." Lady commented at the way the old building looked with its beer company signs and log cabin like exterior. Even the gas pumps were a bit outdated.

Dante remained quiet as he observed the facade of the store. Why on earth would Ali be out here? That question rang through his mind over and over again until he felt Lady's hand on his shoulder. Dante looked at her.

"I can go in if you want to stay in here." He shook his head at her offer.

"Let's go in and find out what we can." There was definitely more to this whole thing than just missing people, and Ali. "I'm willing to bet the old man knows more than anyone else." He opened the door and stepped out of the Bronco, making sure to leave Rebellion in the back seat. "No sense in scaring the poor guy. He's probably had a rough go of it."

"You're probably right." Lady also elected to leave her weapons in the vehicle. "Hey, look." She pointed out to a poster of a missing girl tapped to the light pole next to the Bronco. "That's not her, is it?" It was not Ali, but it was another young woman that had been missing for six months according to the last seen date.

"Nah, but it's just another poor girl missing out here." He was sure there were plenty of posters around with missing people on them. "People go missing out here every now and then, so it's not like it's a new thing, you know."

"I guess, but not this many people in this amount of time, right?" Lady followed him up to the door of the building.

"That's what we are here to find out." Dante opened the door for her, and she walked in only to be greeted by the older man behind the counter.

"Evening!" The man said as he sat up from the stool he was on. "How can I help you folks?" Dante and Lady looked at one another with the huntress, taking the lead on questioning.

"We were wondering if you could tell us about a woman that came through here a few months ago." She opened up bluntly, knowing that the man was likely to talk to her more than he would Dante. The older man looked slightly confused as he took off his hat and ran a hand through his grey hair.

"You're talking about the Malone girl." He put his hands on the counter as Dante came to stand closer. "Her family sent their henchmen in to interrogate me already. I really can't tell you much more than what I told them."

"We aren't here to interrogate you." Dante spoke up, trying to keep his tone neutral as possible. "The woman is one of the people missing, right?" The old man nodded. "We are here to find out what's going on."

"The family hired us to investigate, but they aren't here to tell us how to conduct said investigation." Lady was a genius at getting people to come clean. "We just want to know what happened to the Malone woman. Then maybe we can figure out the rest." She crossed her arms and put on a genuine look of concern.

"Well, when she drove up, she looked like she was running away." He paused. "I see women come through here all the time that are running away from abuse, or sometimes it's something else." He looked down at his hands before continuing. Dante knew what the old man was talking about, and it was a shame that so much abuse was happening in the world for women to actually run. "She came in here with all the cash she had on her for gas, but it wasn't enough. I didn't want her getting stranded on the road, especially at night, so I let her fill up. I also let her take some snacks and a couple bottles of water for her daughter." Dante's heart dropped at the mention of Ali's daughter... his daughter. Lady tensed at the news as well. "She told me she was headed to Capulet to meet up with the girl's father, but I know now they never made it." The feeling in Dante's chest became sour as he had no clue as to what drove Ali to take Evan through here. It was even worse knowing that they were both going to see him. He was trying really hard not to let his emotions show on his face.

He had to get out of there.

"I'll be outside." He put a hand on Lady's shoulder as he walked past her.

The cold air hit him like a ton of bricks as he walked out the door. It was hard for Dante to think in that moment. All that was running through his head was Evan and her being out there alone... or worse. He did not want to think about that scenario. Sure, everyone knew him as the cocky hunter with a penchant for insulting his enemies. Underneath all of that was the traumatized boy from years ago, and the man who had to give up the one thing he really loved.

He stood out in the middle of the parking lot with the snow falling on him. While he was thinking of all the things that could have happened to Ali, he was more focused on Evan. To be honest, the only memory Dante had of her was the night she was born. Her sleepy little newborn face was the only image he had of her. He could imagine she was a lot more grown now. She was eleven years old, almost twelve. Her birthday was right around the corner.

Ali was just another girl Dante had a fling with out of the few he actually got involved in. He knew that in the long run, they would have drifted apart. He could say that he did care for her, but in the end, it was just another failed relationship. After Evan was born, he decided to say goodbye to any potential hookups. One kid was enough, especially when he was never allowed to be anywhere near her.

"You gonna be okay?" Lady's voice brought him out of his thoughts. He was glad she was there. She knew all about his internal struggles with his daughter's situation.

"Don't know." He sighed. "I was kinda hoping that she was safe and sound with her grandparents." That had been the saving grace for him up until this point.

"Well, that's the thing... her grandparents tried to pay the guy off to keep quiet." If there was anything else that could sweeten the deal, it was that. "They specifically asked him not to mention Evan being with her mother." Why? They had basically urged Dante to sign his parental rights away so they could keep her. Not like he could have taken care of Evan on his own. He had made the right choice then.

"If that's the case, then they abandoned her." Dante was eager to get into the forest now. The sun had set a while ago, but that did not matter. In his gut, he knew Evan was out there by herself. "To Hell with them." He walked over to the Bronco and opened the door. "They basically abandoned my kid out there in the woods for months and I'm pissed!" He grabbed Rebellion from the back seat then slammed the door shut.

"Do you think she's even alive?" The Huntress was equally angry at the whole situation and he could see it on her face. Even if Lady denied it, she did have a soft spot for children.

The question she asked was an eye opener for him. Did he think that Evan was alive out there? No. He knew she was. If his daughter had even an inkling of his stubbornness in her, she was going to fight to survive. He felt that in his blood.

Evan was a survivor... like him.

"Yeah, she's alive." Dante said it with such conviction that the somber look on Lady's face changed to one of optimism. "I can feel it." He put Rebellion in place. "It's just finding her that is going to be the hard part."

"No kidding." She crossed her arms over her chest. "This forest goes all the way up the mountain." Acres and acres of trees, snow, and rock was not going to stop him. "Where do we start?"

"We find Ali's car first, then we follow the clues from there." She nodded as she retrieved Kalina Ann from the Bronco. "I hope you brought your earmuffs... it's going to be a long ass night."

"Don't worry about me, you just focus on Evan." Lady patted his shoulder. "Luckily, I happen to have some pocket warmers." She held up a couple of the little pouches that went in her coat pockets.

"Smart." Dante smirked at her. "Okay, let's get this show on the road. The sooner we find Ali, the sooner we can find my kid."

The two of them began to walk up the road in the darkness.

[deancodedinthewater]

Pilot Part 3

Sam pulled himself back up and onto the bridge as soon as the car stopped. “Dean?” He asked as he looked around. When he didn’t see his brother anywhere he leant back over the railings and yelled. “Dean!”

On the river bank below, Dean crawled through the mud, wheezing. “What?” he yelled back and Sam sighed in relief.

“Hey! Are you alright?”

“I’m super,” was Dean’s response as he held up an A-OK sign. Sam laughed in relief. He really didn’t know what he would do if he had to go back to Stanford and explain that not only had he not found his dad but his brother had died. How would he even do that?

“You just gonna stand there?” Dean yelled up. “Come on, Sammy, help your brother!”

“Yeah, I’m coming Dean!”

Once Sam had helped pull Dean out of the mud and they got back up to the bridge, the first thing Dean did was investigate every inch of his car. Sam had tried to help about 5 minutes ago but Dean had yelled at him so he backed off. Eventually, Dean shut the hood and leant against it.

“Your car alright?” Sam braved asking as it seemed the investigation was over.

“Yeah,” Dean replied as he rubbed at his chest. A habit that Sam had picked up on several years ago which meant Dean had probably been binding too long. “Whatever she did to it, seems alright now. That Constance chick, what a bitch!” The last part he yelled at the top of his lungs into the night air.

Sam rolled his eyes and resolved to bully Dean about his binder as soon as they knew what they were doing next. “Well, she doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure,” he said instead. “So where's the job go from here, genius?” Sam leant against the hood of the impala, next to his brother.

Dean’s only response was to throw his arms up in frustration. Mud went flying everywhere.

Sniffing the air, Sam looked at Dean. “You smell like a toilet.” Dean just growled at him.

-

When they eventually found a motel, Sam followed Dean inside. He stood just behind his brother as Dean handled booking the room. Dean threw down his fake credit card on the guest ledger as he asked for a room. Sam nearly laughed when the clerk’s face scrunched, definitely getting a whiff of Dean’s toilet cologne.

“You guys having a reunion or something?” The clerk asked as he picked up the card.

Sam frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I had another guy, Burt Aframian,” the clerk explained as he waved Dean’s fake card - Hector Aframian - at them. “He came and bought out a room for the whole month.”

Dean turned back to Sam and raised his eyebrows. “That’s our old man,” Dean said, turning back to the clerk. “We said we’d meet him here. You couldn’t tell us what room he’s in could you?”

“Can’t tell you that,” the clerk said. “You’ll have to ask your dad yourselves.”

Sam may not be able to see his brother’s face but he knew he was giving the clerk his most condescending smile. “Alright, well we’ll take that room then,” Dean said, gesturing at his card, still in the clerk’s hand.

-

“I’m not binding Sammy!” Dean grumbled as they made their way to their own room.

“Yeah, sure Dean.” Sam was not buying it. “Bullshit.”

Dean rubbed at his face. “Look,” he said. “I told you I was out of action for surgery.” Sam nodded. “I had top surgery.”

Sam paused and felt a grin spread across his face. "Oh my god, Dean," he said, nudging his brother’s shoulder. "That's incredible!"

"Yeah, it's great," Dean grumbled as he shoved Sam forwards. "Now shut up, bitch."

"Jerk," Sam replied, instinctively.

-

After Dean had had a shower, they went out to see if they could find dad's room. There were only a couple rooms booked out so it wasn't hard to work out which one was the right one.

Dean pulled out his lock picking kit and Sam held his hand out for it.

"You sure you still know how to do this, Sammy?" Dean teased. Sam snatched the lock pick from Dean.

"Just keep look out."

Sam knelt down and stuck the tension rod in the lock. He was out of practice with lock picking but even still it didn't take long before he swung the door open. Shoving the picks into his pocket, Sam reached back and grabbed Dean by the shoulder. With them both inside, Sam closed the door.

“Whoa,” Sam said as he looked around. Dad had been thorough. Every wall was covered in paper: newspaper clippings, pictures and notes. The tables and bed were covered in books and other loose bits. Paper wasn’t the only thing spread around. There were various bottles (both alcohol and hunting materials) and miscellaneous weapons and containers of salt and some kind of container with a hazardous-materials symbol plastered across the front.

Flicking on a light by the bed, Dean picked up a half-eaten burger and sniffed it. Sam stepped into the room, over the salt line, just as Dean recoiled. “I don’t think he’s been here for a couple days,” Dean said, dropping the burger back onto the nightstand.

"Salt," Sam said, running his fingers along the salt line by the door. He scanned his eyes over the rest of the room, noting all the other protection symbols spread around. "Cats-eye shells. He was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in."

When Sam looked up he saw Dean examining the papers pinned to one of the walls. "What have you got there?"

“Centennial Highway victims,” Dean said, indicating a set of photographs and names - listing other pertinent details underneath. Sam walked over and looked over Dean’s shoulder at them. Mark somebody, William Durrel, Scott Nifong, somebody Parks. All white. And as Dean said back in Palo Alto, all presumably cis men. “I don’t get it,” Dean continued. “Different men. Different jobs, ages.” He glanced at Sam, who was looking at some of the other things taped to the walls now. “What do these guys have in common?”

Their dad had taped up a bunch of potentially similar cases in clumps. Circles on each page showed what was similar. There was one section about the Bell Witch, another showing two people being burned alive, something called Mortis Danse. Devils, demons, sirens, witches, possession. Their dad seemed to have considered everything.

Across the room now, Sam flicked on another lamp and found the Jericho Herald article he had read at the library tapped to the wall. The one on Constance’s suicide. Above it, in their dad’s handwriting, was a note that read ‘Woman in White’. “Dad figured it out,” Sam whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“He found the same article we did,” Sam explained, tapping the article. “Constance Welch. She’s a woman in white.”

Dean turned back to the wall of victims with a lecherous smirk plastered across his face. “You sly dogs,” he told the pictures. “Alright, so if we’re dealing with a woman in white, Dad would have found the corpse and burned it. Salted it too.”

“She might have another weakness.”

“Well, Dad would want to make sure.” He walked up to Sam, who was reading the Herald article again. “He’d dig her up. Does it say where she’s buried?”

“No, not that I can tell,” Sam said, frowning at the paper. “If I were Dad, though, I’d go ask her husband.” Sam tapped Joseph Welch’s picture. His finger hovered over the caption, saying he was 30 in 1981. Which would make him 64. “If he’s still alive.”

With how thorough Dad had been with his research, Sam gathered that Joseph Welch’s address would be somewhere. So he went looking for it.

“Alright,” Dean said, still looking at the Herald article. “Why don’t you find an address? I’m gonna go find some food.” He patted Sam on the shoulder as he walked past, grabbing Dad’s old leather jacket and pulling it on in one fluid movement. Like he’d been doing since they were kids. The jacket fit him a lot better now than it did then.

“Hey, Dean?” Sam said as Dean reached the door. He heard his brother pause and turned to look at him. “What I said earlier, about Mom and Dad, I’m sorry.”

Dean held up a hand. “No chick-flick moment,” he said.

“Alright. Jerk,” Sam said, laughing.

“Bitch,” Dean responded, turning his held up hand into a finger gun before disappearing out the door. 

Sam laughed again. Though his smile fell when he spotted something on a large mirror. He crossed the room and pushed aside a rosary hanging from the mirror. Stuck in the frame, behind the rosary, was a photo. Their dad and two kids. Dean, smiling with his hair sticking out the back of a baseball cap in a high ponytail, sitting on the hood of the Impala next to their dad and Sam, mid laugh, in his dad’s arms. Sam picked it up and smiled at it. Though it wasn’t a happy smile.

-

The next morning, Sam went back to their Dad’s room to double check the address with Joseph Welch. On his way over he checked his voicemail to see if there was anything from Jess. There was.

“Hey, it’s me, but you know that,” Jess’s voice came out of his phone and he smiled. “It’s about 10:30 Saturday night-”

Dean bumped his shoulder on his way past, shrugging Dad’s jacket on. “Hey man,” he said. “I’m starving. I’m gonna grab some breakfast from the diner down the street. You want anything?”

“No,” Sam said. “I’m good. I’ll grab something later.”

“Aframian’s buying.” Sam shook his head in response.

-

Dean made his way across the lot, pulling his jacket the rest of the way on. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a police car and turned to look properly. The clerk they spoke to last night was talking to the two deputies from the bridge. When the clerk pointed at him, Dean turned and started nonchalantly walking away. He pulled out his phone and called Sam.

It rang twice before Sam picked up. Dean twisted his ring anxiously as he waited. “What?” Sam answered.

“Dude,” Dean said, glancing behind him at the quickly approaching deputies. “Five-oh. Take off.”

“What about you?”

“They kinda spotted me. Go find Dad.”

Dean hung up the phone and spun to face the officers, grin on his face. “Problem, officers?”

“Where’s your partner?” said the one that had been leading the investigation on the bridge.

“Partner?” Dean asked, feigning innocence. “What- What partner?”

The deputies shared a look and the Lead one jerked his thumb at the motel room Sam had just entered. The other started walking in that direction. Dean shifted his weight, twisting his ring again.

“So,” said the remaining deputy” Fake US Marshal. Fake credit cards. You got anything that's real?

Dean grinned. He had been wanting to make a joke like this ever since he got out of surgery four weeks ago. “My boobs,” he said, grin widening further. He got slammed into the hood of the police car for his trouble. Which hurt like hell but he was flying on cloud nine. The officer began reading him his rights.

-

Inside the motel room, Sam darted from the window and scrambled for the bathroom. If he was lucky it would be big enough for him to squeeze through. Apparently his luck hadn’t run out because it was just big enough.

As soon as his feet hit the ground the door to the room burst open. Sam ducked down, pressing himself flat against the wall. No one looked out the window but Sam stayed still, barely breathing, until he was sure the coast was clear.

masterpost

[moregaythanyourealized]

First Impressions

Otto Octavius x reader

Working with others wasn’t your strong suit. People think you’re vulgar and rude. You like to call yourself brutally honest. This job wasn’t an exception. A science company that needed engineers, mechanics, and strong minds like your own. You had only been working here for a few months when gossip about a new super project was being passed around. No one bothered to tell you, of course. You just overheard it on your coffee break. Apparently some great scientist was coming in and taking over the entire lab.

Usually you’d be excited for an advancement in the world of fusion. But this new rich snobby scientist meant that for however long this project took you’d have; No office, Less working hours (meaning less pay), and worst of all....small talk

It was the day the new scientist was supposed to come in, you now knew his name was Otto Octavius. Your desk and your co workers desks were moved out of the lab and into a much smaller space. Cramping you all together like rats. You wore your usual attire and annoyed look as you entered the building. Although today you dawned some stylish eyeliner. Not for him of course, everybody was working extra hard to look presentable and professional. You passed by a co-worker who you didn’t really hate as much,

“Yo, Kathleen, is that guy here yet? Or do you think he’s too busy getting the windows on his lamborghini re-tinted?” You snorted at your own joke waiting for her response,

“Uh, he’s upstairs I think...in the lab.” You thanked her and walked up the steps. You pushed through nerds and geeks trying to reach your desk. A folder of your ideas carefully sealed with colorful clips sat in your drawer.

“L/n!” Turning around your boss was at the end of the hall stomping his feet,

“You were supposed to be in the lab by 7:30!” You glanced at the clock on the wall, 7:46,

“My apologies sir. I didn’t realize everyone would have a stick up their ass this morning. Besides traffic on the way here is always shitty.” You absentmindedly looked through your folder and took one page out pinning it to your cork board, until your boss grabbed your wrist and turned you towards him. His breath was heinous,

“Listen L/n, on a normal day I’d let you get away with being like this. But this is too important for you to fuck up.” glaring at you he released your arm,

“Get your shit together.” He spat. Waiting until he rounded the corner you groaned and tugged at your hair. Today just wasn’t your day. Taking a deep breath you smoothed out your shirt and walked to the lab pushing the door open and continuing inside. The colder air made you relax a bit. Hoping you’d be able to get some work done you sat down on a metal table in the corner. Crossing your legs and looking over blueprints for the next big thing in New York. The above ground bullet train. Sleek design and smooth riding on the rails...you hoped.

Kathleen walked in and shyly rapped your shoulder,

“Did you meet Mr Octavius?”

“He hasn’t come in yet.” You replied glancing her way, admiring how nice she looked even when she wasn’t trying,

“He’s right over there.” She points to a hunched over man in a red sweater. You got off the table and stared,

“That’s him? I thought he was like a janitor or some shit.” The man looked up raising a brow.

Fuck...probably said that too loud.

Waving awkwardly you grabbed Kathleen’s arm and dragged her over to the main table with you,

“Hello, I’m Dr Octavius. I believe we’ll be working together for the next few weeks.” He smiled sweetly and stuck out his hand which Kathleen accepted greatly,

“Actually Dr,” You chimed,

“You’ll be working with people from the east wing. They’re just letting you invade our entire office.” Kathleen stamped down on your foot lightly before turning back to the doctor,

“Y/n was just going to get me some coffee, do you want any Dr?” He nodded and you walked out making sure to slam the door. Stupid jerk, wearing a cute fucking sweater, trying to act all innocent. Trying to play god and mess with whatever sanity I have left. Pouring two cups of coffee you sighed, watching the steam spiral from the cup in a calming manner. Putting milk and sugar into one and nothing into the other.

Re-entering the lab Kathleen was no longer there. A disturbing silence made you want to turn on your radio. Octavius was still leaning over the desk writing things down. You held the drink infront of him,

“Oh, thank you sweetheart.” Your eye twitched. That was the final straw. You yanked the coffee back spilling it a bit,

“My name is Y/n L/n, I may not have your money or title but I expect the same respect you’d give any man on this team. Do you understand me?” He stood up quickly. You didn’t realize he was so tall,

“Now wait a moment Y/n, just a few minutes ago you were cursing and accusing me. Respect is about the last thing on my mind when I think of you.” Ah shit, he was kinda right. You weren’t mad at him. You were just mad at the world. Still you had bad energy in your system,

“But I apologize for calling you sweetheart. It was a crude mistake.” You set both coffees down gently and folded your arms looking at your boots. Saying sorry was the right thing to do, even if it sucked,

“I’m sorry for the way I acted Dr, I guess I’m just a little upset with the pay cuts.” He paused,

“They’re cutting your pay?” You nodded and sat down in one of the metal chairs,

“Everyone here who doesn’t work 24/7 alongside you for the next month gets their pay cut in half until you’re out of here.”

“But you didn’t choose to work less, that doesn’t seem right.” You sighed and rested your head on the table,

“Tell me about it.” While enjoying the feeling of cool table on your cheek you noticed one of his papers. You grabbed it and a pencil before erasing some of his math. You could feel him focused on you,

“Staring is rude.” You said not taking your eyes off the equations,

“You seem to be as well.” Chuckling a bit he sat down and tapped your hand drawing your attention to his soft features,

“I think I know what’s bothering you.”

“I already told you what’s bothering me.” He shook his head and clicked his tongue,

“No, not that. When you left for coffee, Kathleen and I had a small talk about your behavior” Jesus, he sounds like a high school principal,

“She told me that you act like this a lot around other people. And it’s my personal hypothesis that you are intimidated by others who you believe to be smarter or better. You’re afraid of losing your job and not being able to prove yourself. I’m assuming that started in your childhood, either with an absent father figure or bullies at school.” You sat in disbelief. No one had ever really laid out your problems and made them seem so simple. Your face heated up and you clenched your hands. Why did this make you feel so stupid? Why did he think he knew more about your feelings than you did?

Standing up you turned away. Once a demanding and harsh voice was now quiet and small failing to hide your distraught,

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

————————————————

The rest of the day was slow. Your desk felt like a prison where time never moved forward. Rethinking what he said. The repeated movie in your brain of him lecturing you, All of it slowly morphed into him not making noise at all. His mouth moved but no sound, it was wonderful. You just imagined him, dark eyes, large stature looming over you, soft hands....

“Y/n?”

“Fuck!” You hit your head against the wall and turned to see Kathleen. She leaned in to make sure you’re okay, her perfume hit your nose and you tried not to seem like you were enjoying the moment too much,

“What do you need Kathy?”

“Dr Octavius asked me to give this to you.” She handed you an envelope and hastily exited the room. The crisp paper unfolded in your hands. Reading the letter was like fiery kisses to your skin. Words pouring out like water from a faucet.

Y/n,

We obviously got off on the wrong foot. I do not think of you as a subordinate and I certainly hope you do not think of me as a threat. We both overstepped personal and professional boundaries today. I apologize sincerely for making you uncomfortable. What is science if not testing the waters though? To show my attitude towards a better future working together I invite you to lunch tomorrow downtown. I will pick you up outside at 12:30

All the best,

Dr Otto Octavius

Pinning the letter up next to your project on the cork board you admired it smiling. Perhaps second impressions will set you both straight.

[axoxtxhxh]

First Date with the Vets - Erwin

Big shoutout to @chaotic-nick for making this lovely banner for me!

Overall Summary: I had this idea to do a first date with the vets and what it would be like. I am including Erwin, Levi, Miche, and Hange in this list. Each date will be different, but all of them will be set in modern au.

Check out Miche’s story here, Levi’s story here, and Hange’s story here

Pairing: Erwin x Fem!Reader

Content: Nearly all fluff

Word Count: ~ 6,100

Summary: Reader is on her way home to get ready for her blind date when she runs into a handsome stranger on her way home. On her way up to her apartment to get ready, the elevator breaks down with her and the handsome stranger stuck inside.

You were a little over a block from home, nearly running with your small bag from the convenience store clutched tightly in your hand. You hated running late. It didn’t really matter what the scheduled engagement was, you made it a point to always be the first one to show up. Today’s engagement was no different, but leave it to you to rip a hole in your pantyhose as you were getting dressed.

Your best friend, Fen, had set you up on a blind date with one of her co-workers. You hated blind dates, not to mention Fen had terrible taste in men. She had been begging you to at least meet him for a couple months now, but you kept finding reasons not to. The last time she asked, you ran out of reasons. So here you were, running back home ten minutes before he was supposed to arrive. With any luck, he will be as terrible as you expect and show up late, maybe not at all.

You turned down an alleyway, trying to save time by cutting through the side streets and picked up speed seeing your apartment building up ahead. The shortcut was quickly turning out to be a bad idea. There was only one streetlight all the way at the end and you couldn’t see anything, especially the puddle you barely missed, splashing dirty water on your leg. Perfect.

You rounded the corner quickly, ready with your key in your hand to unlock the lobby entrance when you slammed into the back of a large body standing in front of the door. Pushed back by the impact, you dropped your keys and bag on the floor, the cheap convenience store pantyhose rolling to the feet of the person you slammed into.

“Oh gosh. I’m sorry.” You reached down to pick up your stuff when the hand of the person reached it before you. A very large, strong hand with perfectly manicured fingers wrapped around the small plastic case of your pantyhose, holding it up to you.

Your eyes followed up his long arms. You could see how well-built he was even through the brown suit jacket he wore over a white button-down shirt, the top buttons undone so you could see the top of his strong chest. He had to be at least 6’2. Tall and broad.

“It’s my fault.” His ocean-blue eyes sparkled as his lips curled into a smile revealing his bright, white and honestly, dazzling smile. You almost giggled at the sight of him. “I shouldn’t make a habit of lurking in doorways.”

“It’s—uh, it’s not a problem.” You smiled, your eyes locked with his while you fumbled with your keys. Any other night. Any other night you could have stayed and chatted with this handsome stranger. But instead you had to race upstairs to finish getting ready. Your miserable Friday night was getting worse.

You finally fit your key into the keyhole and got the door unlocked, pushing it open. The handsome stranger helped you, holding it open and holding his hand to his stomach as he gestured you through. Damn, he even smelled good.

You moved quickly to the elevator, pushing the call button and trying not to focus on the handsome stranger following closely behind you.

“If you’re going to anything lower than the fifth floor, you might as well take the stairs,” you recommended, looking up to him, “this elevator takes so long, you could probably get there faster by walking.”

“I appreciate that information.” He smiled, pulling out his phone and clicking quickly, scrolling through. You used the opportunity to look at how you looked through the elevator doors.

What a hot mess you were in that moment. Your hair was a mess, your face red and sweaty, the bulky man’s coat you grabbed quickly on your way out the door hung on you like your dad’s t-shirt when you a child. The only redeeming thing about your look was your skirt. You had just bought the camel pencil skirt you were wearing a couple days ago, finding the high-slit a bit too sexy for your office, but it worked perfectly for a date night. The bottom hem shared the same dark stain from the rainwater as your legs and shoes did.

You sighed. Your shoes. You had on some old sneakers, knowing you needed to make the quick run to the store. It could have been that cute sexy-casual look if your shoes had still been white. Now they were brown and grey and smelled like a wet dog. Any chance you had in imagining this Greek god standing next to you would give you a second look were thrown out the window.

You could now see how well he was dressed. He had that dark academia look about him that made you weak. His slim-fit tweed herringbone pants accentuated the length of his legs and somehow made him look even taller, his blonde hair perfectly parted and smoothed back. He looked up from his phone and put it in his pocket.

“Looks like I’ll be taking the elevator with you.” He turned to look at you. “If you don’t mind the company.”

“Of course not.” You smiled back, biting your lip to hide your excitement. Maybe the night would be picking up after all.

The elevator dinged and the doors creaked open shakily. He held his arm out again, gesturing you inside first. It was honestly a bit unfair at how much of a gentleman he was. You dipped your head down and scurried in to hold the doors for him.

He stepped in after you and you pressed the close-door button, followed by eight, your floor. Turning to him, you noticed him staring at the buttons and asked which floor he needed.

“Eight as well.” He put his arms behind his back, and looked back at the door. You turned to face the door, mirroring him as you thought about which lucky woman on your floor was getting a visit from him. Possibly lucky man? Either way, someone was going to be having a great Friday night.

You filled your cheeks with air, puffing them up as you tried not to let yourself glance at him through the elevator doors. The building was old, the elevators dark, but it really was only the two of you and you were sure it seemed pretty obvious that you were staring.

Your eyes moved up to the numbers indicating which floor you were passing. Still only at the third floor, you let yourself peek at him from the corner of your eyes then turned your whole head when you thought he was staring at you. It turned out, he was only staring at the numbers and he quickly turned his eyes to you when he saw you turn to look at him. Damn it, you did that uncomfortable thing. You smiled and hoped that you seemed friendly and not creepy and stalker-like.

“You were quite right about the speed of the elevator.” He chuckled, a low hum that vibrated off the walls. “It’s exceptionally slow.”

You looked back at him, his teeth gleaming even in the darkness of the elevator. Was he trying to make small talk? You smiled to yourself at the attempt, assuming that’s what it was.

“It’s a pretty old buil—” The elevator slammed to a halt and cut your sentence short, both of you falling back. You reached for the rail next to you to brace yourself. The elevator lights flickered before turning off, seconds passing before the emergency lights came on.

“I take it that’s not supposed to happen.” You turned to him and shook your head.

“This is not happening.” You said aloud, more to yourself than anything. You were already running late and now this? You moved to the elevator buttons and started pushing them randomly, knowing they wouldn’t work, but hoping that your frustration was enough to get it started.

“I’m not getting a signal.” The man was holding his cell phone up in the air, trying to get a signal. “Do you want to try yours?”

You nodded and pulled out your cell phone. No bars. You tried holding it up, not reaching nearly as high as he was able to and finally trying to jump a little, trying to catch the reception you hoped sat at the ceiling. The man just stood there smiling at you until you finally noticed and you quickly turned away to hide your embarrassment.

“Maybe the phone here.” You opened the phone box to check inside only to find it empty and you dropped your head. “Damn it.”

This was even worse than how you had already thought your night was going to go. You checked your phone. You were definitely late now. Not only late, you were trapped in an elevator with no way of alerting someone that you were even there at all. Maybe Fen was right. Maybe you should have spent more money to move to a newer apartment building. You loved your little block though. Your apartment may have been old, but it was cute and had character. It was quiet on the weekends and it made the commute to work so much shorter than where you used to live. A cute apartment wasn’t helping you then though.

You heard a small sigh come from behind you and you turned around to see the man sitting on the floor. You didn’t think you were giving him any sort of look, but he stared at you for a second and then jumped up.

“My apologies.” He stuck his hand forward towards you. “My name is Erwin.”

“Y/N.” You took his hand which was surprisingly soft and gentle for someone his size.

“Y/N.” Erwin repeated. “Well we might as well get comfortable. I imagine someone will figure out the elevator stopped running soon enough.”

He sat back down on the floor, stretching his long legs out in front of him and crossing one foot over the other. He set his hand down on the area next to him and looked up at you.

“Would you like to join me?” He smiled and there was no way you were saying no to that.

One hour passed by remarkably fast. The two of you sat on the elevator floor and chatted about your jobs and where you grew up. At some point, both of your stomachs were growling and you opened up your big purse, pulling out some water and snacks. Erwin’s thick eyebrows lifted as you continued pulling out exactly what was needed.

“I like to come prepared.” You smiled shyly, hoping he wasn’t judging you.

“What else do you have in that magical bag of yours?” He scooted closer and you pulled out a bouncy ball, an old bus pass, your work keycard and a folded piece of paper. Erwin took the ball and the paper, opening it up and reading.

“Thirty-six questions to fall in love.” He held it up. “This is something you need to have with you at all times?”

“My friend gave me that.” You both laughed and you tried to grab it, but he pulled it away quickly.

“A friend, huh?” His eyes scanned over the first couple questions then looked at you. “I might be interested in asking you some of these questions.”

“Me?” Your eyes went wide. Why would he want to ask you any of those questions? You had to admit, you hadn’t actually read any of them when Fen gave you the paper, but if it’s about falling in love, you were sure the questions were about marriage and children. Why would Erwin want to ask any of those?

“I am a bit short on other participants.” He gestured around to the empty elevator. “Even so. You seem like you have a lot going on in your head.”

You looked up at him. This night was already a bust, stuck in an elevator with a stranger, albeit an incredibly handsome stranger, but a stranger nonetheless. Why not reveal all of your insecurities, past boyfriends, career failures and whatever other strange questions that paper had.

You turned your body to face him, lifting your legs until you were sitting cross-legged and placed your hands on your knees.

“Fine.” You took a deep breath. “Let’s do it.”

The rules were simple. You each ask each other a question, alternating who asks and who answers until all the questions are asked an answered. It was important they are done in order because they get increasingly more personal. After all questions were answered, you and your partner are to stare into each other’s eyes for four minutes.

You couldn’t even say that was easier said than done because it really didn’t even seem all that easy just saying it. Four minutes? You’ve never looked into anyone’s eyes for longer than a couple seconds. This doesn’t even touch on the fact that these questions were going to get more personal as you moved. The only thing that made this even remotely worth it was knowing every question you had to answer, Erwin had to answer the same one and you would be lying if that wasn’t exciting you.

…..

“Number three. Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say? Why?” Erwin set the list down in between you as you thought about the question. It didn’t really require that much thought honestly. You were a highly anxious person.

“Yes.” You nodded once and smiled. Erwin waited for you to keep going, but you just stared at him and then remembered. “Oh right! I ask the next one.”

You picked up the paper and Erwin took it from you, holding it above him and laughing at you as you let confusion spread across your face.

“It’s expected you also answer why.” He explained. “The idea is to get to know each other.”

“Yes, but I thought the reasoning was obvious.” You pointed out.

“Not to me.” He lowered his hand, setting the paper down as he watched you fiddle with your fingers.

“I find it almost necessary to practice it. Otherwise I’ll stumble over my words and get confused.” You admitted, shifting uncomfortably. You looked up and smiled, trying to pretend you weren’t as uneasy as you looked. “I bet you don’t have to do that.”

“I think we each have our own insecurities.” His smile was so understanding it had you biting your lip and looking down quickly, heat rushing to your cheeks. “I appreciate you sharing your answer.”

…..

“Number eight.” You paused as you read the question to yourself, a small gust of worry running through you. This definitely meant he was going to look at you. “Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common.”

You cleared your throat, keeping your eyes down on the paper, trying your best not show how uncomfortable it was going to be to have him staring at you. You could already feel his gaze. Was he looking at the dirt on your legs and skirt? Was he critiquing how messy your hair was or how your shirt didn’t match the rest of what you were wearing? Maybe he was judging your feet and your choice of socks. You looked down, making sure you did, in fact, shave your legs.

You couldn’t handle it anymore. You let your eyes slowly look up at him, meeting his stare. He was sitting cross-legged, his chin resting on his fist which was propped up on his knee, the smile on his face had a flush of warmth rushing to your cheeks and swirling in your chest.

“To start, I think we both care quite a bit about how we’re perceived by others.” He leaned back on his arms, straightening his legs out, his left leg brushing against yours and you shivered at the warmth. “We have a similar sense of fashion. I also have that same coat.”

He pointed to your jacket laying on the floor and you looked over at it, taking the moment to look away from him and gather yourself. He was quiet and you wondered if maybe he didn’t realize that was only two things in common. You turned to look at him.

“You’re supposed to name three.” You reminded him, looking at him with your eyebrows together. He smiled.

“I would stake a guess that we’re both big rule followers.”

…..

“Alright. Number thirteen. If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future or anything else, what would you want to know?” He set the paper down in front of you, going back to resting his chin on his fist, a position you were beginning to realize was his go-to.

“Hmm…” You thought about it. There was no way you would ever want to know your future. You did that once at a carnival and you had anxiety for the next year over it. “I guess I would want to know the truth about myself.”

“What about yourself?”

“I think I would ask if I was a good person.” You nodded slowly. “Yeah, I would want to know if I am a good person.”

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“A good person.” He laughed.

“That’s what I would ask. I don’t know.”

“Well what is a good person?” He sat up straight. “To you. Your definition.”

“To me?” You were fiddling with your fingers again, a nervous habit that you often did when you were feeling eyes on you. “I guess someone who tries their best to be helpful and kind to everyone equally.”

“I think that’s a fair definition.” He nodded and you picked up the paper. “Do you do those things?”

“The things I listed?” You knew what he was getting at. He nodded. “Yeah.”

“So you have a definition of what a good person is and you’re already doing those things. Why do you need to ask a crystal ball if you’re a good person?”

“For confirmation?” You honestly had no idea. Why did you want to ask that? Erwin had a point. “I guess I don’t feelgood enough?”

“But if a crystal ball told you it was enough, you would believe it?” It all sounded so good in your head, but when you put it out there and he repeated it, it sounded like something a child would say.

“I guess it sounds kind of dumb when it’s said like that.” You laughed uncomfortably.

“Oh, no. I’m so sorry.” He put his hand on yours and you shivered at the warmth and looked up. His eyes looked so concerned.

“No, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad for saying it. I just realized it sounded bad out loud.” You both laughed at your apologies. Erwin rested his chin back on his fist.

“I was just trying to say that if something as simple as a crystal ball was enough for you to believe you were a good person, would you believe me if I told you?”

“This is only number thirteen.” You smiled. “Are you sure you know me well enough?”

…..

“Fifteen. What is the greatest accomplishment of your life?” You put the paper down in between you both, the space that was beginning to grow smaller as you each moved closer together.

You were both getting increasingly more comfortable with each other as the questions got deeper and more personal. You had removed your shoes, scooting closer to Erwin while he took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, moving closer to you.

Erwin looked up, thinking about the question. You’ve been enjoying the questions more as they went on, making Erwin think a bit more each time before answering. It gave you time to admire his face, his perfect bone structure, his incredible blue eyes, and the way he liked to tap his finger on his lip when he thought about things.

“I want to say deciding my career path.” He looked at you and it made you smile. “I thought I would… I was expected tofollow in my father’s footsteps and become a teacher, but I chose my own path. I’m happy with that.”

“What do you like about your current job?” You asked him.

“I like my job because it gives me the freedom to continue things I have interest in, like teaching kids about finance.”

“Wait.” You held your hand up. “You are proud of not following your father and being a teacher so that you could get a job in finance just so you could teach kids finance?”

“It certainly sounds silly when you say it like that.” You both laughed.

…..

“Twenty-nine. Share with your partner an embarrassing moment in your life.” You put your hand out and Erwin took an M&M from it, tossing it in the air and you caught it in your mouth, the only way you were allowed to eat them then, a rule you made around question twenty.

“Okay, I have it.” Erwin chewed his M&M you tossed him and continued. “When I was interviewing for my current position, I had never been to the building before that so I wasn’t familiar with it. The whole building is, in essence, a big glass box. It’s all windows, even the doors just look like large windows, but not the tinted ones. These are the completely clean and nearly invisible windows. As I made my way up the steps, I thought it was an open floorplan without any doors, so I just walked forward and stepped straight into the glass.”

You threw your head back with laughter and quickly tried to cover your mouth so he wouldn’t feel bad, snorting into your palm. Erwin smiled at you, his hand brushing over your waist before dropping to the ground.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized. “That’s a very understandable mistake. Honestly. It’s not so bad.”

“Yes, well.” He continued, a small smile on his face. “I also did it on my way out the building after the interview.”

You were roaring with laughter now. You tried your best to cover your mouth, but even your eyes were watering. You put your hand on his shoulder to steady yourself, but dropped your face there until you could calm yourself down enough.

“I’m sorry. Really. I shouldn’t be laughing at you for that.”

“It’s quite alright.” He bit his bottom lip before quickly smiling. “It’s worth it to see you smile.”

…..

“Question thirty-one. Tell your partner something that you like about them already.” Erwin set the paper down. It was quite amazing actually. You had only been in the elevator for a couple hours. You’ve only known Erwin for a couple hours. Looking at the way he set the paper down, how he was holding his face, barely looking away from you, slowly sitting back against the wall, his hands rubbing over his thighs to wipe the nervous sweat from his palms, he was uneasy. You could see it. Even knowing him for such a short time, you could already tell what he looked like when he was nervous. Thinking about it made the corner of your mouth turn up in a small smile.

You had a feeling he would expect the obvious things. He was a gentleman, he was honest, he was kind, he spoke well. You wanted to give him something to make his eyes shoot up to meet yours and to make a small smile grow on his face.

“I like that you helped take this really terrible situation on an already crappy Friday night and made me have the most fun I’ve had in a long time.” His eyes shot up to look at you, a small smile growing on his face. Bingo.

…..

You laughed, blowing air from your mouth as you tried to hold it in, giving up and throwing your head back with a loud laugh. Erwin was smiling at you, his cheeks coloring pink as he absentmindedly slid his hands over your waist.

It was too embarrassing, too cringy, too intimate for someone you just met and you were sure even if you knew each other well, it would be just as awkward. You managed to calm yourself down enough, still letting out puffs of air and giggling every time the discomfort crossed your mind.

“Let’s try again.” Erwin spoke softly, shaking your hips a little as he smiled.

“It wasn’t embarrassing enough that you want to do it again?” Your eyes went wide.

“I just shared thirty-six highly personal pieces of information about myself. What’s four minutes of looking into eyes as beautiful as yours?”

Your jaw dropped open, bottom lip moving up and down as you searched for something to say. He was flirting, that was definitely flirting. The idea of a man like this flirting with you left you a bit speechless. You finally just sank back, smiling shyly as you looked at your hands.

“We don’t have to.” He leaned his head to the side to look at your face. “I apologize if I’ve made you uncomfortable.”

“No, it’s okay.” You looked up at him. The idea of a man like him flirting with you might be unbelievable, but this whole situation was a bit unbelievable and while you were living in a dream, you might as well really live in it. “Let’s try again.”

He smiled and it melted your insides. You weren’t a confident person naturally. There were a handful of things you could confidently say you didn’t overthink, but the majority of the time, you were always second guessing everything you did, every decision you made. So when you decided to sit yourself on his legs in front of him, hands resting on either side of his thighs, you were just as surprised as he was, his blue eyes peering into yours as his eyebrows dropped and he let out an exhale.

“Start the timer,” you instructed. He didn’t even look down at his phone as he started the four-minute timer from zero. He dropped a quick glance down to your lips and brought his eyes back to yours, a small smile played on his lips.

You weren’t brazen enough to sit on his thighs, your butt rested comfortable on his shins and your upper body leaned forward towards him, but the new shift in position gave you a confidence you didn’t have a moment before.

His phone let out one small beep and you smiled. One minute had passed. You held his gaze, noticing him licking his lips, his tongue fliting out and the tiniest lip bite before he rested his lips in a smile. You shifted in your spot and his hands inched their way to yours. His first finger getting there first, wrapping itself around your pinky and you smiled, encouragement to have the rest of his hand follow.

A second beep from his phone and he rubbed his hand gently up and back down your forearm. You sat yourself a bit closer, lifting yourself off his legs and slowly scooting forward until your butt rested on the cushy muscles of his thighs. His hands connected with yours until they slipped free and rested on your waist, sliding back and roughly grabbing the extra meat of your hips. He blinked slowly, licking his lips and you felt like your heart would beat out of your chest. He raised his knees, sliding your body down his thighs and pushing you up against his chest, your faces barely an inch apart.

You couldn’t help but smile at him and he brushed your hair from your face, his hand cupping your jaw while his other hand brought your body even closer to him. His eyes moved to your lips, looking away from your eyes for the first time since the four minutes started.

You rested your palms on his chest, feeling just how firm, yet soft it was before letting yourself lean in to press your lips tenderly to his. It was like electricity shooting through your body at the contact and your hands quickly moved to the back of his head, pulling him in. He must have felt the same way because his hands slid up your back to keep you in his lap and resting against him.

You moved your lips slightly against his and he opened his mouth, teasing your lips with his tongue until you opened your mouth. He didn’t push his way in, his tongue waited for yours to meet him halfway before he started exploring the cavern of your mouth. You panted against his mouth. You were amazed that he still tasted like minty toothpaste, even after all the snacks you both ate and you wondered if your breath had any remnants of anything fresh, but the pull of his hands to bring you closer had you thinking it couldn’t be that bad.

His hand slid lower down your back, the touch giving you chills. He timidly ran over your hips, and moved back up, settling on your waist. You slid towards him a bit, your hips barely lifting up before resting back in his lap and he groaned, a deep rumble that echoed off the walls of the elevator and vibrated through to your own chest.

You smiled. Your lips pulling away from his, but your hands remained in his hair, brushing through the blond locks now entirely out of place. He sighed, looking at where his hands were resting on your hips. He moved one of those hands to your cheek and leaned back in to kiss you as the four-minute alarm on his phone sounded and you both jumped, laughing quietly.

He turned back to you and continued leaning in, his hand moving to behind your head as his lips reached yours.

“Hey! Is there someone in there?” Someone called from outside the elevator. Your eyes widened and you stood up.

“Hello? Yes! We’re stuck!” You called through the doors, hoping your voice was loud enough. You turned back to Erwin, grinning with excitement and he stood up, fixing his shirt sleeves and moving behind you.

“Alright! We got a guy who can open up these doors.” The man called from outside.

You stepped back, directly into Erwin’s arms and he held your shoulders. The contact with him made you turn around to look at him. He had his suit jacket back on and you remembered your shoes. The man that was outside started prying open the doors and you grabbed your shoes, sliding them on and picking up the things from your purse that were scattered along the ground.

In the corner of the elevator was the small plastic capsule of your pantyhose and for a moment, you froze. In the time you were stuck in there with Erwin, for a short amount of time you had completely forgotten about your blind date. The man probably waited for hours only to hear nothing back from you. Guilt was starting to settle in. Even if you didn’t want to go on the date in the first place, you weren’t the kind of person to just leave someone hanging like that. And the whole time you were in here enjoying yourself with Erwin. Well, you may have been trapped, but knowing you were having fun with someone else made your stomach fill with shame.

You stood up, having collected all your things and faced the elevator doors. Your mood shifting entirely from only moments before. Erwin had grabbed his things and put his shoes back on. You could see light coming from the slowly growing crack in the elevator doors and you squinted a bit as your eyes adjusted. Erwin moved closer to you, his arm pressing against yours as he leaned in.

“Y/N, I…” You looked up to him.

“Alright, that’s it. You guys can come through.” The man told. Erwin pressed his lips together in a smile.

“After you.” He gestured. You stepped through the elevator doors onto the landing of the sixth floor.

You only had a couple floors to walk up and while you could have done it alone, it was nice walking with him. That is, until the realization hit that you were only going to be walking with him for a couple short flights of stairs, after which, you will say your good-byes and most likely never see each other again.

There really wasn’t any way this man wanted to see you more than the forced three hours he just had to endure. You sighed to yourself. That thought coupled with the mixture of guilt for your blind date was enough for this Friday night. When you made it to your floor, you opened the stairwell door, made sure to hold it for him and quickly hurried to your apartment and unlocked the door.

You rushed inside, closing the door behind you and resting your head against the door. That was fun, but there was no way it was going further. Your date may have been cancelled at this point, but Erwin still had time for whatever rendezvous he had planned. Just the thought of you kissing him without knowing anything about who he was coming to see was making you cringe.

Beyond that, there was the notion that your kiss would lead to something and that was embarrassing enough. You didn’t need to stick around after that. To think that anything else would come of it was a lot of pressure and expectations on him just to fulfill your little girl fantasy. You both got caught up in the moment and that was it. There was nothing else to it. You took a deep breath and set your bag on the floor.

Walking to your dining room table, you pulled out your phone to call your friend. You may not have wanted to go on that blind date at all, but forcing the poor schmuck to wait hours for you without even a text was unfair.

As you unlocked the screen, you saw twelve unread messages from Fen and quickly looked through them.

[6:30pm I just spoke with him. He’s on his way to your place now.]

[6:38pm I guess I forgot to mention how punctual he is.]

[6:38pm A lot better than me, right? XD]

[6:45pm What are you going to wear?]

[6:50pm You’re so lucky you have a friend like me to set you up on dates for a Friday night.]

[6:51pm He just texted me. He’s at your place]

[6:51pm Why aren’t you answering your bell??]

[6:52pm You’re not standing him up, right? Please, he’s so cute!]

[6:54pm Someone let him in. I told him your apartment number. You better let him in!]

[7:15pm I haven’t heard from him so you must be out. Why aren’t you texting me??]

[7:16pm I guess that must mean you’re having a great time!]

[7:24pm I just ate a whole pack of Oreos.]

Your heart was racing. Someone let him in? You checked the time of the message. Someone let him in around the time you were letting Erwin into the lobby. Your jaw dropped, your mind hurrying through your thoughts.

You didn’t have time to think about it because your doorbell rang and your head shot up from your phone as your heart nearly leapt from your chest. Hesitantly, you set your phone down on the table, letting your mind believe what you were hoping was true. Before you could overthink it, you walked to the door, unlocking it and turning the knob, taking a deep breath before pulling the door open.

Erwin stood there, his jacket back on, shirt straightened and hair back in place.

“I—uh… it looks like I’m your date for tonight.” He smiled nervously at you, his phone in his hands with Fen’s name on the screen. “If you’re still interested, I would very much like to accompany you to dinner.”

You were still interested. You were more than still interested. What were the chances that the man you enjoyed so much time with stuck in an elevator was the date you were supposed to meet all along? You made a mental note to thank Fen because, for once, she was spot on with this match. You smiled broadly and pretended to think about it, playfully tapping your finger to your lips in the same way he did when he thought.

“How do you feel about having dinner at my place?” You stepped back a bit, opening the door wider.

“I think I’d like that very much.” He stepped inside and you closed the door.

[sh1tbird-shantytown]

The courtroom was lousy, and even though the walls were bland and the judge was as old as corn, Billy’s shoulders twitched.

His lawyer, a man who was balding in the back and Billy had known an entire five days, leaned over and whispered. “Our best shot at this point is bringing him on, Billy.”

He didn’t take his eyes off of the manilla folders on their table, “And didn’t I say no when you asked the other fifty times?”

The man’s hazel eyes narrowed, “We need the sympathy points.”

Billy planted his palm on the table, “We do that and Neil’s defense gets to ask him certain other questions. Questions that could land me in the dump as well as…” Billy sat back silently. He shook his head one final time.

“He already agreed to do it,” Dawson urged. Billy only managed to open his mouth before the judge had her eyes on them and Dawson was standing. “Your Honor, I’d like to call Stephen David Harrington to the stand please.”

Billy felt Neil’s gaze, and it was dangerous.

—

If anything, Steve looked damn good in a suit.

Dawson stood in front of their table, diagonal to Harrington, “Is it true that you were aware of the physical and emotional abuse happening in the Hargrove household before this court date was set, Mr. Harrington?”

Billy winced, he knew Steve hated being called Mister just as much as Billy did. He saw Steve shiver, but nod.

“Yes, I was aware.”

Dawson stared at the papers in his folder, “Actually, let me back up a little.” He glanced at the jury meaningfully, “For context.” Billy continued to glare. “Is it true, Stephen, that Billy Hargrove would personally come to you for aid?”

Steve nodded faster than before, “Yes.”

“And what did you two do?”

“I would set him up in a guest room, bandage him up. Sometimes it was so bad I’d personally stay in the room.”

Steve unintentionally caught Billy watching, he tried to smile even though it fell short.

Steve knew exactly what he had to do. Billy stood up so fast his chair hit the railing from behind their station. The judge interrupted him with a squint and her stupid mallet.

The fucker he’s been stuck with, Dawson, opened his stupid mouth again. “And how often would Billy Hargrove visit you in similar conditions?” Steve stared at Neil Hargrove, mouth not quite in a frown and more so a scowl. His eyes however, ever so innocent in such a deceiving way. Billy knew that look wasn’t something to be reckoned with. Steve clenched his fists and his eyes filled with the same sadness he gave Billy all those nights.

“Sometimes two nights a week and other times four. I’d make him stay the night because I knew he’d be…hurt again.” The jury watched and nodded, all agreeing.

Dawson looked back at Billy and schooled his face neutrally, “That’s all, your Honor.”

The defense, a man that Billy never got the time to learn the name of, stood and faced Steve. Stepped slowly up and watched with knowledgeable eyes. Steve was smart, no matter how many people picked on him about being a little dumb. Billy knew Steve was smart when it came to these things.

“Steve Harrington,” he placed a hand on the bench, Steve glanced at it ruefully, “Do you know Mr. Hargrove?” Steve raised a brow. “Have you ever met him face to face?”

Steve smiled, faux innocence, “Yes.” The defense seemed genuinely surprised, Neil stood up as though he’d forgotten his keys just as he closed the door.

“And when was that exactly?”

“Two months ago,” Steve looked at Neil, sideways glanced at the jury. “When Neil Hargrove visited the hospital carrying Billy during his recovery after the fire.”

Neil’s lawyer turned back and seemed to ignore the man shaking his head frantically, “And what was your initial perspective?”

Steve sat up even straighter, “He’s a sniveling, lying, no good man, who is not worthy in the slightest to have Billy.”

The defense’s shoulders slumped, but he asked the question he knew everyone wanted to hear, “And what gave you these…observations?”

Steve frowned deeply, not in disappointment, and as he looked to the jury, it resembled perfectly with sorrow and rage. “He yelled at his son while he was barely alive. Told him that he wouldn’t be paying for the bill, and left. He never came back either. Does that sound like a good father to you?” The defense lawyer stared, wide eyed, and turned away after thinking a moment. Everyone knew that it was because he was holding himself back. They’d already won.

Steve picked up his jacket and stepped out of the bench. He smiled at Billy and mouthed.

“Love you.”

[liltaz-asatreat]

Day 2 of @taznovembercelebration : Daylight, domesticity

Davenport is surprised at how bright it is when he walks out onto the deck of the Starblaster. He usually wakes up early enough to catch the sunrise, but right now the sun is high in the sky, about ten o'clock he would estimate. Maybe he shouldn't have stayed up so long reading that novel he picked up last cycle. Not that he has anything in particular planned for today. They had found the Light a week ago, and they still have another two months before the Hunger is due to arrive which means he has a bit of free time on his hands before he has to help everyone prepare to leave.

Movement catches his eye somewhere off to the side of the ship. He looks around and walks to the railing, peering out at the field below. Merle is standing on a stool and hanging up clothes from a basket off to his side on a line he's tied between two trees. Davenport sighs and walks down the plank to greet him.

As he approaches, Merle glances over and smiles with a clothes pin held in his mouth as he pins one side of a shirt up on the line. "Hey, Cap'n. I was gettin' worried about ya. You never sleep in this late."

Davenport chuckles. "Yeah, I stayed up too late reading that murder mystery I was telling you about. Is the dryer not working again?"

Merle takes the clothes pin out of his mouth and nods as he pins the other side of the shirt up. "Yep. I asked Barry to take a look at it since you were asleep. Figured if it hasn't been fixed yet after tinkering with it mechanically, the enchantment might be what's causing the issue. Can you pass me another shirt and set of pins?"

"Yeah, just a sec." Davenport walks to his other side to get to the basket and pulls out a damp, floral pattern shirt and two more pins from the small container set next to the basket. He hands them up to Merle who nods in thanks and gets to work pinning up the garment.

"This reminds me of living back in the enclave at home," Merle says. "We didn't have a lot of the technology and appliances that the towns and cities had. We had a more natural way of doing things. We washed our clothes in buckets of river water and hung them up to dry like this in trees by our houses, and it was hell during autumn and winter. In autumn, we'd get leaves and stuff stuck in our clothes, and in the winter, it took forever to dry because it was so damn cold. We'd try to find room around the fire to hang them up during those months, but it's really hard when you have eight people's worth of laundry."

Davenport looks up at him with a start. "Eight people? You had eight people living in your house?"

"Yeah, me, my mom, my dad, and my five siblings. Can you pass me-"

"Yeah, here you go." Davenport hands him an IPRE jacket and another set of pins.

"Thanks."

Davenport thinks for a minute. "I guess that's not so different from how we're living now."

Merle laughs. "Yeah, there's seven of us living on a ship that's not meant to house us for more than two months. At least we all have our own separate rooms. The house I grew up in only had four bedrooms, so me and my siblings all had to share."

"That must have sucked."

"Oh you have no idea."

Davenport hands him another garment and pins. "What was your family like?"

Merle hums a little as he starts pinning up the garment. "They were... fine, I guess. I mean, don't get me wrong, I loved them. A lot. But it was hard growing up in the middle of all of them. I had two older brothers, an older sister, a younger sister, and a younger sibling, and they were all perfect to my parents. They were all really into medicine and priesthood and druid magic and everything my dad wanted. And they were really good at what they did too." He says a little bitterly. "I also got into medicine, botany, and clerical duties obviously, but to be honest, a lot of the reason why I did that was because I wanted my dad to be proud of me. But I wasn't good enough for him. Not compared to the rest of my siblings anyway."

Merle brings down his hand to let Davenport pass him another piece of clothing, but Davenport holds off for a minute. "I'm really sorry to hear that, Merle."

Merle shrugs but doesn't meet his eyes. "I mean, I'm the one still... still living."

They're silent for a moment before Davenport hands him a pair of shorts. "Do you have any good memories of them?"

Merle smiles slightly as he turns to pin them up. "Yeah. Me and my brother, Charlie and my sister, Leslie, we got along the best. We used to play pranks on people a lot as kids. One of them being taking other people's laundry that were hanging up on the clothes line and swapping them with another person's clothes. It was great. The neighbors would get so mad at each other because they thought someone else stole their clothes."

Davenport laughs and hands him the last piece of clothing. "That sounds like it was fun."

Merle smiles even wider now as he pins up the pants. "Yeah, it was. What about you, skipper? Did you have any siblings?"

Davenport frowns slightly. "No, I'm an only child. I was one of the kids who grew up at the Institute in their childcare program. My mom was a scientist and my other parent was an engineer, and they... well... they didn't really have a lot of time for me, let alone to take care of another one."

Merle's smile fades a bit as he looks down at him. "Did you have any friends you were particularly close to?"

Davenport chews his lip. "Not really. There weren't a lot of kids in the program, and the ones I grew up with weren't all that interested in hanging out with me. We weren't enemies or anything. They weren't mean to me. We just had different interests, so I spent most of my time by myself reading about the stars and planes, and I read the papers the people at the Institute published about the newest experimental findings and explorations reports."

"Oh..." Merle says. "That sounds... well..."

"Boring?" Davenport guessed.

Merle laughs. "Hey, you said it, bud. Not me."

Davenport laughs too. "Yeah, there were times that I wanted to have a friend to do stuff with, but that just never happened I guess. Studying everything I could to one day be a captain and go exploring was my life, and now... there's no choice but to have this be my life."

Merle climbs down from the stool and grabs it, the basket, and the container of clothes pins. "Well, that's the reality of our life now. You're not alone in this Cap'n. And we've got time to do other things every now and then that isn't saving the world. And hey, me and the others are your friends now, and I'm happy and honored to call you my friend. So why don't we pull the foldable table and a couple of chairs out onto the deck. I can teach you how to play yooker with tarot cards if that's something you're interested in."

Davenport smiles and takes the basket from him. "I would love to. Thank you, Merle."

"Any time, Dav."

[sukifans]

May I request a Zuko x Reader with prompt number 2 from the 50 cliché prompts? I'm desperate for some fluff

SWEATSHIRT // zuko

WC: 1.8k

PROMPT: “your shirt/jumper was in the laundry pile and i couldn’t help but steal it”

WARNINGS: none

A/N: if you want fluff you came to the right place—tooth rotting fluff is my specialty. the title may or may not be a jacob sartorius reference. yall remember when tik tok was music.ly?

⇦ 𝘔𝘈𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛

Living with Sokka certainly had its ups and downs. On the one hand, he always kept things interesting—you never knew what you might come home to find, and he often made you laugh so hard you had tears streaming down your cheeks. He could also MacGyver just about anything that broke in your apartment (usually broken by him, however). You’d only had to call maintenance once, when you’d found him stuck under the kitchen sink, absolutely drenched, and shouting for help as water viciously sprayed from the pipes and the garbage disposal made some sort of ear-splitting shriek.

On the other hand, his mind moved a hundred miles a minute and he often forgot little things, like closing the kitchen cabinets or starting the dishwasher. One such thing he tended to forget was to finish his laundry. Often you’d find his still-wet clothes in the washer or his clean clothes in the dryer, having finished several hours ago. The two of you had worked out a deal: if Sokka did the dinner dishes and bought the snacks for Movie Fridays, you’d make sure the apartment ran smoothly despite his forgetfulness.

That’s how you found yourself dumping a load of his clothes onto his bed after finding them in the dryer while trying to do your own chores. You picked through the shirts and boxer briefs before settling on stealing a deep burgundy sweatshirt—an unspoken part of your deal was that if you found his clothes, you were allowed to steal a t-shirt or sweatshirt of your choosing because he knew you liked to wear the oversized tops on lazy days.

He came back later that night to find you standing in the kitchen, scrolling on your phone while you waited for your tea to steep. Your wet hair hung around your face and you wore the red hoodie with sleep shorts and thick, fuzzy socks.

“Hey,” he said, dropping his backpack on the ground by the door and kicking off his shoes.

“Hey.” You looked up at him as he bustled around the kitchen, tossing something into the microwave. “How was work?”

“Annoying,” he sighed in irritation, making you grin. He turned to you and frowned, reaching out to tug at the sleeve of your sweatshirt. “Where did you find that?”

“I stole it from your laundry, stupid. You left your stuff in the dryer again. I’ve never seen this one before, did you just get it?”

“Uh... yeah. Thanks for doing that for me.”

“Mhm.” You slipped your phone into the front pocket and cradled your mug. “Why do you ask? Do you want it back?”

“Nah, it’s okay. In fact, keep it. Red doesn’t suit me, I don’t know what I was thinking when I bought it.” He had a smirk on his face that made you very suspicious.

You raised an eyebrow while you slowly sipped your tea. “If you say so, Snoozles.” You flicked his arm as you passed him to retreat into your bedroom for the night. “Don’t forget to pick up your bag. And snacks for Friday night!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he responded through a mouthful of noodles.

You and your friends were gathered in the living room like every other Friday, this week to watch Jurassic Park (yet another classic that neither Aang nor Zuko had seen, much to everybody’s disbelief). Katara and Aang sat together on the armchair, Zuko sat between you and Sokka on the couch, and Toph sat on the floor with her back against the sofa next to her service dog, Badger. You had your legs thrown across the guys’ laps and all eyes (except Toph’s) in the room were glued to the screen. Well, for the most part—Zuko kept looking over at you all night. You tried to keep your attention on the dinosaurs, but you could feel him staring at you. Eventually you caught his eye and raised your eyebrows expectantly. He simply flushed and looked away. You furrowed your brow and turned back to the movie, pulling your hands inside the sleeves of Sokka’s red sweatshirt and sticking them in the pocket.

“Did you guys know that Spielberg wanted the raptors to be taller for the movie and then a few months after they wrapped shooting, paleontologists found a new species of raptor that actually fit the movie portrayal really well? They almost named it after him,” Sokka said with his mouth full of popcorn.

“That’s nice, Sokka,” Katara responded absently, obviously not listening.

“Yeah, and they made the T. Rex sounds with an alligat—oof!” He wheezed when you jabbed your foot into his stomach. “Asshole!”

“Pack it up, IMDB,” you huffed.

“I just thought it was interes—ouch, Toph!” he yelped when Toph punched his shin.

“Stop talking, I can’t hear anything!”

“Just watch it!”

“I can’t!” Toph barked. Sokka crossed his arms and slumped down, grumbling to himself. You and Zuko glanced over at each other and broke out in grins, pursing your lips to hold back your laughter.

As the movie progressed, you noticed the tension in Zuko’s shoulders. He had his jaw clenched throughout the whole scene with the kids trapped in the car with the T. Rex attacking. You nudged him with your knee and he turned to look at you.

“You scared, Zu?” you teased in a low voice, leaning forward to squeeze his bicep. “You want me to protect you from the dinos?”

He rolled his eyes but still lifted his arm, inviting you sit up and tuck yourself into his side. As you leaned against him he seemed to loosen up, settling into his seat and resting his head against yours. Sokka noticed this and looked around Zuko to waggle his eyebrows suggestively and very conspicuously, making your face heat up in embarrassment. Unfortunately, the idiot had caught wind of your crush on his best friend and had been relentlessly tormenting you about it ever since. You glared at him until he sat back, looking disgustingly smug.

After the movie finished, everyone got up to stretch and refill their drinks before the next one started. While talking with Toph in the kitchen, you noticed Zuko standing outside on the balcony by himself. You excused yourself from the conversation and made your way out to him while all your friends hooted in the background. It seemed everyone knew about your attraction to the boy, except for the boy himself.

“Hey,” you said softly, stepping outside. He looked around at you and gave you a small smile that made your head spin. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “just getting some air. It’s getting hot in there with everyone in the room.”

You nodded and stood next to him to lean against the railing. After a few beats of silence, you could feel his stare on you again. You met his gaze curiously. “What’s up, Zu? You’ve been looking at me all night.”

“Nothing, it’s just—“ he narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to the side as if inspecting you “—is that my sweatshirt?”

You frowned. “No, I took it from Sokka.”

“Lying bastard.” His eyes widened at your offended look when you rounded on him. “Not you! I—um, it is mine. I gave it to Sokka the other day and when I asked for it he insisted he already gave it back to me. The fucker gaslit me over a sweatshirt.”

“Sounds about right,” you giggled. “I’m sorry. I’ll give it back before you leave.”

He pulled at one of the drawstrings. “You can keep it, if you want. It’s, uh—“ he cleared his throat “—it looks better on you.”

You stood facing each other now, barely a breath away from being chest-to-chest. “I can’t take your sweatshirt.”

“You take Sokka’s all the time.”

“Yeah, because he always forgets his laundry in the machine. He owes me.” Zuko laughed a little at that, still fiddling with the string. You could feel your heart racing at his proximity. He sucked in a breath and seemed to brace himself for his next words.

“I kind of like how you look in my clothes, though. Might have to start leaving my stuff around here so you stop wearing Sokka’s.” The confidence in his voice was betrayed by the rising blush on his face that surely rivaled your own as you stared up at him with wide eyes.

Your lips parted to speak, but no words came out. All you could squeak out was a soft, “Zuko,” when he raised his hand to brush a loose piece of hair back behind your ear. You felt frozen, rooted to the spot, when his fingertips grazed your cheekbone. His hand lingered there, palm radiating heat into your already flushed cheeks.

“I—“ he pulled his hand back and chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly “—sorry.”

“For what?” you asked.

“I don’t know.” You grinned at each other and in that moment it could’ve been just you and Zuko left on the planet and it wouldn’t’ve mattered; everything you wanted and needed was right there in front of you, if you were bold enough to take that final step toward it.

“Zuko—“

“Hey, we—oh!“ Both of you whipped your heads around when the door slid open to reveal Aang standing there. His whole face went red and he laughed in embarrassment. “Sorry! Just wanted to tell you guys we were gonna start the movie, but no rush! Take your time!” He started to back away and you felt yourself release from Zuko’s magnetic pull now that your small bubble had been invaded.

“It’s okay, Aang.” You smiled gently at your friend and started to make your way back inside. “We were about to head in anyways.”

Aang shot Zuko an apologetic look before nodding and hurrying away. Zuko couldn’t find it in himself to be bitter about the ruined moment when you reached out towards him and gazed up at him with those warm, bright eyes. “You coming, Zu?”

“Yeah, right behind you.” He took your outstretched hand and laced your fingers together, squeezing his palm against yours.

Maybe you weren’t the last people on Earth, and maybe you hadn’t taken that leap just yet, but something between you two shifted and finally clicked into place out there on that balcony. Everything would work out just fine—he knew it in the way you kept your fingers slotted perfectly between his as Jaws played on the television, and in the way you quickly rose onto your toes to press a kiss to his cheek in the hallway before he left. He couldn’t wipe the dreamy little smile off his face for the rest of the night, even as he laid awake in bed thinking about you.

Yeah; everything would be just fine.

ATLA TAGS: @hotgirlazula @octophopi @simpinforsukka @protect-remus @akiris @sunflowerazula

ZUKO TAGS: @fiantomartell @avatarayeaye @hypercakeiii @sher-lockedmarvel @emeraldpotato @september-ctd

[queenxxxsupreme]

An Unlikely Choice (dad!Arthur Morgan)

A/N: This is an addition to my new little dad!Arthur series! Hopefully we will see more of domesticated Arthur in the near future :)

Warnings: none, just fluff!

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: Arthur takes Daisy to get her first horse. 

***

“Come on, daddy!”

“We’re goin’ as fast as we can, sweetpea.”

“I’ve seen Poncho go faster than this!”

“Well Poncho don’t go fast when little kids are on his back.” 

“Don’t you give him a little nudge like this?” Daisy leaned to the side and used her heels to give the buckskin standardbred an encouraging nudge.

Poncho put his ears back, huffing in displeasure. 

“Come on now, sweetpea.” Arthur reached down to stop her leg. “You don’t do that. You’re not the one with the reins so you aren’t the one who tells him to go faster, okay?”

“Okay, daddy.”

“We don’t wanna confuse poor Poncho, do we?” Arthur rubbed the side of Poncho’s neck. “He’s a good boy.”

“Daddy, what if all the horses are gone by the time we get there?” Daisy looked over her shoulder to him. 

“Sweetpea, I don’t think all the horses are gonna be gone-,”

“But what if they are?” Her little eyebrows were drawn together with concern. 

“Then we’ll have to find somewhere else that has horses, sweetpea.” Arthur leaned down to kiss her head. 

“What if that place runs out of horses too?”

“You sound like your mother.” He sighed, bringing Poncho to a stop at the end of the main street. “She worries just like that too. Always questionin’ everything.”

Arthur climbed down from the saddle and took the reins, making sure Daisy sat safely in the saddle. 

“I promised you I was gonna get you a horse, didn’t I?”

Daisy nodded, messing with the saddle horn. 

“Then I’m gonna get you a horse. Have a little faith in me, sweetpea.” He fixed the way his hat sat on his head and began to lead Poncho down the busy street. 

“What’s faith, daddy?”

“Faith is, uh…. is like trust.”

Daisy didn’t hear his answer. She was too busy watching a pair of huge horses pull an even bigger cart. 

“Whoa! Daddy, look!” She pointed. “Look at how big those horses are!”

“Those are workin’ horses. Papa Hosea used to have one a long, long time ago.”

“How many horses has Papa Hosea had?”

“Too many to count.”

Arthur led Poncho down to the stables at the end of the street. He tethered the horse to a hitching post and moved to get Daisy down from the saddle. 

“Now remember sweetpea. In here, you can’t be too loud and you can’t move too fast. We don’t wanna spook the horses.”

“Okay.” She nodded her head, taking hold of Arthur’s hand. Her little hand only wrapped around his pinky and ring finger but he still held her hand as he took her towards the stable. 

“You got any names in mind?”

“Names?”

“Yeah. Names for the horse.”

“Hmm.” Daisy tapped her free hand to her lips. “What about Cookie? I like cookies.”

“That’s…. an interestin’ name.” Arthur chuckled. 

“Howdy, folks.” A man approached Arthur and Daisy, holding his hand out for Arthur. “Davis Thatcher. Owner of this here stable.”

“Arthur Calhoon.”

The two shook hands. 

“What can I do for you today?”

“I’m lookin’ for a horse.” Arthur answered, his eyes dropping down to Daisy. She squeezed his fingers as she peered around Mr. Thatcher, spotting a pony in a stall. “We were hopin’ to find somethin’ along the lines of a foal.”

“You are in luck! I’ve got a handful of fillies and a couple colts. Let’s go take a look and you can tell me which one looks good to you, Mr. Calhoon.”

“Well, I’m not gonna be the one pickin’ the horse. If we find the right one, this’ll be my daughter’s horse.”

“Oh, how nice! Is it a special occasion?” 

“Sort of.” Arthur began to follow Mr. Thatcher around the stable. Daisy eagerly walked alongside her father. “Her birthday’s in a couple weeks.”

“How old are you gonna be, missy?” 

“Eight!” Daisy answered, practically bouncing up and down next to Arthur. 

“That’s a big number! Congratulations!”

Mr. Thatcher led Arthur to an enclosure towards the back of the stable.

“Here we have a few of the younger foals. Take a look, see if any of them catch your eye.”

Arthur picked Daisy up and sat her on the top rail of the fence. He kept his arm around her stomach, not wanting to let her fall into the enclosure. 

“Give them a treat when they come up to you.” Mr. Thatcher handed Daisy a biscuit. 

The first horse to take interest in the duo was a palomino mare. Daisy excitedly shifted in her spot. Arthur could practically feel the excitement radiating off of her. 

“Easy, sweetpea.” Arthur said. “Don’t wanna spook her.”

“She’s pretty, daddy.”

“Sure is. Remember to keep your hand flat so she don’t nibble on your fingers.”

Daisy put her hand out falt with the chunk of carrot in her palm. The mare sniffed the treat for a brief moment before taking it from Daisy. Daisy giggled. 

“That tickled.”

“That one’s called Trudy. She’s got a filly over there that we call Millie.” Mr. Thatcher pointed to a light yellow foal that was playing with a dark brown foal in one of the corners of the enclosure. 

“What do you think about that one, sweetpea?” Arthur asked Daisy, but she wasn’t even looking at that horse. Her eyes were focused on something else in the corner to her left. There was something brown laying in the hay. It didn’t appear to be a foal at first, no features were discernible. But the more Daisy looked at it, she could see it was breathing. 

“What about that one?” She pointed to the lump. 

“You wouldn’t be interested in that one, honey.” Mr. Thatcher shook his head. 

“Somethin’ wrong with it?” Arthur asked quietly.

“That’s one of the runts from another mare. She’s not strong. Ain’t worth your time, I can assure you.”

“Daddy, I wanna look at it.” Daisy tugged on the sleeve to Arthur’s shirt. He looked over to Mr. Thatcher, who let out a sigh. 

“If you’d like to look, you can. But I promise, she ain’t nothin’ special.”

“Come on, sweetpea.” Arthur pulled her down from the fence. Daisy led the way over to the corner the little filly was in. She knelt down so that she could see the baby horse between the bottom two horizontal fence boards. 

“Here, girl.” Daisy clicked her tongue, holding her hand out. The foal had its nose tucked into the hay and showed no signs of acknowledging Daisy. 

“You got a treat she could give the foal?” Arthur looked at Mr. Thatcher. He nodded and pulled another biscuit out of his pocket. He gave it to Arthur, who then knelt down by Daisy. 

“Here, take this.” He handed the biscuit to her. 

“What’s her name?” Daisy asked.

“Uh, she…. She don’t really got one.”

Arthur shook his head. 

“Here, girl. Look here.” Daisy spoke softly, trying again to get the filly’s attention. 

Arthur would’ve thought it was dead if it weren’t for the shallow breathing movements it made. 

He reached through the fence and tapped the foal’s hindquarter. 

“Wake up, girl.”

The filly lifted her head, a few pieces of straw getting stuck in the part of her mane that fell across her forehead. She blinked once and then twice, looking from Arthur to Daisy. There was a white patch around her left eye, a stark contrast to the rest of her chocolate brown coat. 

“Here.” Daisy whispered, holding out the biscuit for her. She took it and nibbled lightly at Daisy’s fingers. Daisy giggled, then reached up to pull the straw from the filly’s mane. 

“There’s a few more outside I can show you.” Mr. Thatcher said, moving towards a door that would lead them outside. 

“Come on, sweetpea.” Arthur started to stand up. 

“Daddy, I want her.” Daisy brushed her fingers over the filly’s tangled mane. 

Arthur rubbed the back of his neck. The filly didn’t look very healthy. Even laying down it looked small. And there was a chance that it was deaf too. It was odd that it hadn’t responded to any noises being made. He couldn’t get his daughter a sickly horse and risk it dying. 

“How old is that little filly, Mr. Thatcher?”

“Five months.”

“Five months?” He repeated in disbelief. “Looks barely three months old.”

“I told you, Mr. Calhoon. She’s a runt, and she’s got issues with holding on weight.”

Arthur looked back to Daisy. She was completely engrossed with the filly, already whispering and murmuring to her as she stroking her mane. 

“Give me a second, would you?”

“Of course.” Mr. Thatcher moved away to give Arthur some privacy with his daughter. 

Arthur leaned against the fence with his arms, looking around the enclosure at the other foals. 

“Daddy, she’s so pretty. Ain’t she?”

His eyes dropped down to the filly just below him. 

“She is pretty, sweetpea.” He nodded. “Daisy, this filly…. She ain’t healthy, sweetpea. It wouldn’t be…. I just don’t think….” He couldn’t find the right words. Everything he tried to say sounded terrible. 

Daisy stopped petting the horse and stood up, brows drawing together as she peered up at her father. 

“Did Mr. Thatcher say we can’t take her home?”

“No, sweetpea. That ain’t it.” He shook his head, looking down at her. “This one here ain’t the healthiest they have. If we get her…. I don’t know how long she’ll last.”

The look that crossed over Daisy’s face broke Arthur’s heart. 

“I just don’t want you to have to go through that, sweetpea.” Arthur put his hand on her shoulder and pulled her in for a hug, his hand finding the back of her head. “I know what it’s like to lose a horse and it’s a really nasty feelin’ that I don’t want you to ever feel.”

“She just looks so sad here, daddy.” Daisy sniffled.

“Oh sweetpea, don’t cry on me.” He pulled back, wiping her tears away. She looked down at the ground while his eyes stayed on her face. “You really like her, don’t you?”

Daisy nodded, rubbing her eyes.

“If she’s the one you want, then she’s the one we’re gonna take home.”

Her eyes flickered up to his. 

“I do want her.”

“Then it’s settled.” He kissed her forehead. “You wait here while I go talk to Mr. Thatcher.”

Arthur crossed the barn, making sure Daisy was still in his line of sights. 

“So what’ve you decided, Mr. Calhoon?” Mr. Thatcher asked.

“My wife is gonna kill me.” Arthur sighed. “We’ll take that little filly with the patch over her eye.”

“If that’s the one you want, I won’t fight you on it. Glad to have it out of my hands to be honest. It’ll be fifty dollars.”

“Fifty for an underweight foal?” Arthur’s mouth fell open. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Unfortunately I’m not.” Mr. Thatcher shook his head. 

Arthur locked his jaw, reminding himself that this was for Daisy, and pulled the money out of his pocket. 

“You bring a wagon with you?” Mr. Thatcher asked as he began to count the money to make sure it was the correct amount. 

“No…. Why?”

“Well, then I hope you live nearby. Like I said before, that horse ain’t very strong. I doubt it’ll be able to walk very long.”

“Son of a bitch.” Arthur ran his hand over his face. 

“You can always keep it boarded here for the night- for an additional twenty dollars.”

“What about until later on today?” 

“Ten.”

Arthur bit his tongue as he forked over another ten dollars.

“It was a pleasure, Mr. Calhoon.”

“Yeah, you too.”

Daisy looked over to Arthur as he knelt down beside her. 

“Okay, sweetpea. So we’ve got a plan. I’m gonna take you home to momma and then I’m gonna come back for this little lady.”

“Why can’t we take her home now?”

“Well ‘cause she can’t walk all the way up to our house. She’s not that strong yet, so I’ve gotta get the wagon and come back down to get her.”

“But what if someone takes her before we come back?”

“No one will take her, sweetpea.”

Arthur and Daisy left the stables and began to make their way out of town on Poncho. 

“You thought of any names, sweetpea?” Arthur asked, his hand rubbing her arm. 

“She’s got a patch over her eye. I thought maybe Patches, but we already got a sheep named Patches.”

“Yeah, that could get confusing for poor ole Patches. You said you liked the name Cookie earlier.”

“She don’t look like a Cookie.” Daisy shook her head.

Arthur moved Poncho over to one side of the road as a horse and wagon came into view. A smile came to his face as he realized who was driving the horse.

“Look, Daisy. It’s Uncle Charles.”

Arthur brought the horse to a stop next to Charles’s wagon. Beside Charles on the wagon was a woman. She had warm copper skin and black pin straight hair that was braided back into two braids. 

“Uncle Charles! Aunt Lucy!”

Arthur put Daisy down on the ground and watched her move over to the wagon. Charles got down from the wagon to pick her up, embracing her in a tight hug.

“Hey there, Daisy.” 

“What are you two up to today?” Lucy asked, looking at Arthur.

“Just heading back home. Bought this little lady a new horse.” Arthur nodded to Daisy. Charles placed Daisy on to the wagon so she could property hug Lucy. 

“Where’s the horse?” Charles patted Poncho’s shoulder. 

“Still at the stable.” Arthur sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He lowered his voice so Daisy wouldn’t be able to hear him. “She chose a little sickly filly out of a bunch of other ones, Charles. The horse didn’t even stand up.”

“At all?”

“No, not at all.”

“And you bought it for Daisy?”

“I didn’t want her to cry no more, Charles.”

Charles shook his head.

“She’ll be crying a lot more when that filly never stands up.”

“You’re always so critical.” Arthur muttered. “Anyways, I’ve gotta take her home and get the wagon to take the horse back home. Don’t know if it can walk, but the stable owner said it couldn’t walk very far.”

“Why don’t you just put it in the back of my wagon?” Charles gestured to his wagon. “Lucy just has a few things she has to get at the store and I’ve got to pick up some feed for the horses. Should be enough room for a filly.”

“If you’ve got the room, I sure would appreciate it.”

“Of course.”

Charles moved towards his wagon. 

“Hey, sweetpea? There’s been a little change of plans.” Arthur said, looking at Daisy. “Uncle Charles is gonna let us put your little filly in his wagon so we don’t have to go all the way home.”

“Thank you, Uncle Charles!” Daisy clapped her hands together.

***

You walked out to greet everyone when the wagon pulled up in front of the barn. 

“Hi, Lucy. Hi, Charles.” 

“Hello, Y/N.” Lucy embraced you in a warm hug. “We ran into Arthur and Daisy in town. They needed some help with your new horse.”

“My horse!” Daisy corrected her, giggling as she moved towards the back of the wagon. 

“Why did he need a wagon for the horse?” You asked, furrowing your brow. 

“Um, it’s….” Lucy trailed off. 

Your eyes fell on Arthur and Charles. They counted to three and lifted the horse out of the wagon. 

“Excuse me, Lucy.” You placed your hand on her arm before moving towards your husband. “Arthur?”

“Gimme a second, pumpkin.” He grunted, moving with Charles towards the barn.

“Why isn’t this baby walking?” You followed behind them. Daisy tried to follow you too but you stopped her. “Daisy, go to Aunt Lucy please.”

“But momma-,”

“Daisy, please.”

She frowned but did as she was told. Lucy took her to the front porch. 

The two men placed the foal down into an empty stall on a bed of straw. Charles stepped back to examined the horse while Arthur pet its neck.

“It’s good to see you, Charles.” You gave him a tight smile, trying to maintain the growing frustration in your veins. 

“You too, Y/N. I’ll, uh, I’m going to go out with the girls.” He motioned to the door. 

Your eyes fell on to Arthur while he watched Charles leave. The door to the barn creaked shut. 

“Arthur Morgan, tell me you did not buy our daughter a horse that can’t even walk.”

“Pumpkin, it’s not like that.”

“Then show me that the horse can walk.” You crossed your arms.

He opened his mouth and looked down at the foal. 

“I can’t do that.”

“Jesus, Arthur.”

“Y/N, wait.” He stopped you from leaving the stall. “The fella at the stable, he said the horse was weak and wasn’t like the other foals they had. He tried to steer us away but once Daisy saw this one, she wouldn’t look at any others. She was crying because I told her she couldn’t get it.”

Your gaze dropped back down to the foal. It moved some of the straw around with its nose, snorting softly. 

“Arthur…. What if…. What if it doesn’t….?”

“I know.” He rubbed his face. “Thought about it the whole way up here. But she wasn’t willin’ to get any other. She wanted this one.”

“I just don’t want her hurt.”

“I know.” His hand found the small of your back. “She’s a strong girl. You are her mother afterall.”

You smiled. 

“Come on. I told Charles I’d make him dinner for lettin’ me use his wagon.”

Taglist:  @winterwolf @doggone-cowgirl @lauramb7 @caraqas @bluscryn @nonodino @krenee1drful @thefirelordm @sargeantsea @sokkasdarling @thecollection @mayday1284​

If your name is in italics, that means it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

[phykios]

Ain’t No Sunshine, modern royalty, 1970s au [read on ao3] thank you as always to my darling @darkmagyk for taking a true story off the rails

May 3rd, 1979. The date seemed to jump off the page, the loud, bold text almost mocking her. 

Not that she was keeping track, but it was just about four years to the day.

She’d woken up this morning, feeling kind of off, wandering around her apartment in a daze as she hustled her children out the door for daycare, losing time on her bus commute to work. It wasn’t until lunch, as she took the time to go through her day planner, that she realized: four years ago was when she had last seen Percy Jackson.

Though why Annabeth was thinking about him right this second was anyone’s guess.

Oh, sure, she’d thought about him a lot all throughout her pregnancy--thought about him, cursed his name, dreamed of strangling him for leaving her alone with these two absolute terrors--but as the years had gone by, and she had lost all hope of ever making contact with him again, he’d sort of fallen by the wayside of her thoughts. Something must have been going on with the navy mail system, because absolutely none of the letters or postcards she’d sent had ever been received, and she couldn’t reach out to Sally, since Annabeth had lost her address as well. 

There was always the possibility that he… well, that he wasn’t around to receive letters anymore. But she tried not to think about it. 

She tried her best not to think about him at all, these days.

Today, however, her childhood best friend turned US navy midshipman had popped up on her internal radar, and had just decided to take up residence in her brain. Her normally mind-numbing job couldn’t even properly distract her, and she spent all afternoon daydreaming about his messy, perpetually windswept hair, and his toothy, contagious smile, and his gorgeous green eyes like she was some kind of pathetic, lovestruck teenager, obsessing over her rockstar crush. Taking calls, scheduling appointments, and dodging the creepy advances of the assistant CFO were slightly more palatable if she had something pleasant to think about. 

Old-fashioned romance was for suckers, anyway. Who needed it? 

At least it was Friday. Fridays were KFC days, and she really did not need to accidentally burn dinner today. Again.

She hated it, but her kids loved it. God knows they could barely stomach whatever she usually attempted.

She sent them to bed early-ish, and settled down in front of the TV with a glass of wine. She didn’t usually indulge, but she had had such a weird day, she felt she deserved it. 

Taking a long, long sip, she could no longer deny it: she really fucking missed Percy.

She missed him like she’d miss a missing limb, and it was all the more cruel because she’d lost him once, and miraculously found him again, on that fateful trip home from Athens. A military brat stuck at the American naval base in Spain to save money, waiting for a spare seat to open up on a plane so she could go home, by the sheer force of luck, she’d practically tripped and fallen into the lap of her childhood best friend. 

And then she did trip into his lap. And then into his bed. And stupid, stupid, Annabeth, she’d always been so bad with her birth control.

Her little boy, he had blond hair, but sometimes he would look at her, or laugh at something, or drool in his sleep just like his daddy, and Annabeth thought she might just fucking die from it.

She loved her children, of course, how could she not? But she wasn’t about to deny it--sometimes, alone in parenthood, juggling dishes and laundry and schoolwork and life, she felt like she was drowning.

Sharp, piercing, the doorbell rang, knocking her out of her reverie. A little tipsy, still in her rumpled work clothes, she set the glass aside, and made her way to the door. “Mr. D,” she said, opening it, prepared speech all ready to go, “I told you, I’d have the rent for you by--”

She stopped, blinking, speechless. It was not Mr. D.

“Hey,” said the man outside her door. The ghost from another world that she had, apparently, conjured with her thoughts.

“...Hey.”

He smiled, a little strained, the light of the streetlamps casting harsh shadows on his face. “It’s good to see you.” 

“How did you know where I lived?” It was, perhaps, not the most elegant thing to say, but she hadn’t exactly planned for what would happen when Percy Jackson, love of her life, father of her children, long-lost best friend wandered back into her life.

“Can I come in? Maybe for a Coke or something?” he asked, not answering her question. 

She almost wanted to say no. For every letter never returned, for every month gone by without a word, for every day spent raising their children without him, not knowing if he was alive or dead--she almost said no. 

But this was Percy. She could spare him a Coca Cola at least. “Sure,” she said, leaning away, “come on.”

“Great,” he said, and this time, his smile was all real. 

So focused had she been on him, she hadn’t even clocked the older man who stood behind him. “Sir,” said the other man, with the air of a beleaguered secretary--and Annabeth would know, “I really must advise--”

“I’ll just be a minute,” said Percy, not even bothering to look back at him, pushing past Annabeth’s half-extended arm.

“But, sir, your father--”

Percy let the door shut in his face.

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. “Harsh.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, well… I’ll make it up to him later.”

“Who is he?”

But Percy didn’t answer. “Nice place you got here.”

He was being nice, of course. It was a craphole apartment in a craphole side of town--but the rent was cheap and the bus was convenient, and she only felt the slightest bit of shame as she led him to the craphole couch, handing him a coke from her craphole fridge. Christ, his suit looked like it cost more than her TV.

“Is your… husband home?” he asked, delicate.

“My what?”

“Your husband. I saw, um…” Embarrassed, he flicked his eyes to the ring on her left hand. 

“Oh, this? It’s--it’s not--” Hastily, clumsily, she fumbles it off, pulling around the knuckle. “I’m not--I’m not.”

He blinked. “Oh.”

“Yeah, I just--it’s to ward off creepy guys, right? Like, they won’t take no for an answer unless they think they’ll have to deal with an angry husband, so I just…” 

In her more pathetic moments, she pretended that it had been given to her by the man before her. She had picked something small and simple, something that she thought he might have gone with, and pretended he had slipped it into her pocket the day she left the naval base. 

“That’s--cool. That’s great, I mean. I mean, that’s--”

“What do you want, Percy?”

Not at all bothered by the shortness of her tone, he sighed, closing his eyes. “I have a… personal question I need to ask you. And I’m sorry to bother you with this, I just--I have to ask.”

Ominous. “Okay?”

“Did we…” He sighed again, mouth twisting. “Did you, as a result of our repeated sexual encounters four years ago, happen to have any children by me?”

He just rattled it off, as if it was something he’d said over and over and over again, tired of receiving the same answer, but never expecting anything different.

“Excuse me?”

“I know, I know, it’s an extremely rude question, and I know I have no right to ask you, especially since it’s been so long, but I swear, there’s a reason I--”

“Did you never get any of the letters I sent you?”

At that, his head shot up. The look in his eyes could only be described as ‘terror.’ “What?”

“I must have sent you half a dozen,” she said, crossing to the kitchen, the wine making her a little bit short. She had, in fact, sent him eight letters, with pictures, and never received a single response, but since he seemed genuinely lost, she decided not to tell him. Plucking the most recent photo down from the fridge, she returned to the man in her living room, his knuckles white around the can. 

Standing before him, she handed him the photograph. He took it, fingers shaking. “We… you…” 

“Percy Jackson,” she said, like she was introducing him to someone at a party, “meet your children.”

Even after they had just been born, Annabeth had seen how obviously they were his. Only their daughter had the same messy black hair, both both had the same long, straight nose, the same intense, brooding brow as their father--and when her son smiled, or her daughter laughed, it was hard not to see the shades of Percy so strongly in them. It was hard to see them, too. 

Percy’s mouth was trembling. His eyes were wide, glassy, fixed on the photo. “My--” he swallowed. “What--what are their names?”

“Alexander,” she said, softly, “and Anne--”

“Annemarie,” he breathed. “Alexander and Annemarie.” He looked up at her, his eyes shining. “You remembered?”

Of course she remembered. Two lonely kids, she and Percy had spent so much of their childhood together, playing house, building their perfect family, even if only in their imagination. Alexander for his mother’s cousin, and Annemarie because he had wanted to name their  daughter Annabeth, and she wouldn’t let him. Twenty years later, alone and in pain, holding her newborn children and alternately cursing the man who made them and desperately wishing he were with her, Annabeth had known that they could only have one set of names, even if their father might never meet them. 

His face crumpled. He dropped his head into his hand, and groaned, like someone had pressed on an open wound. 

“Percy!” Annabeth sat down next to him, one hand on his shoulder, the other on his leg. Four years later and it still felt so natural to touch him like this. “Are you okay?”

Nodding, he grunted. “Yeah,” he croaked, voice hoarse, “I’m okay. I’m fine. I just--” And then he shuddered, a hand coming up to scrub at his eyes. 

He was crying, she realized suddenly. Annabeth used to be the one that cried. She could count on one hand how many times she’d seen him cry. He hadn’t even cried when she had finally left the naval base. 

Taking a shaking breath, he wiped his nose on the sleeve of his expensive suit. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, shattered. “I didn’t--I never--if I had known, I swear, I would have left the navy. I would have come home.”

The silent, unspoken “to you” echoed in the dead air of her apartment. “Why didn’t you?” she asked, quietly.

They held each other’s eyes, an eternity passing in a heartbeat. Neither wanted to break the sacred silence, to bring words into the crystalline moment that hung in the balance between them. 

“I never got your letters,” he said, tears in his eyes. “I… after you--left, I…” he sighed, aching. “I… got hurt. Bad.” 

Annabeth couldn’t breathe. 

“And,” he huffed a laugh, wet and messy, “and then I met my father. Can you believe it?”

Her eyes bugged out of her head. “You what?”

He nodded.

“He’s alive?” 

Sally rarely spoke of him, and Percy had always refused to. Annabeth had just assumed he had died, years and years and years ago. 

Percy laughed again, humorless. “He’s the king of Thera.”

Her jaw dropped. “He…”

“Yeah.”

“Are you shitting me?”

Shaking his head, he smiled, rueful. “I wish.”

Words from a half-remembered newscast floated through her mind. Alexander and Annemarie had been right terrors that night, and she had only been half-listening as the reporter informed the world that Triton, hereditary prince of Thera, had died, killed in military action. “He… found you?”

Percy nodded, miserable. “He told me--asked--told me to--to find anyone I might have…” And then he swallowed, tears in his eyes again, real, glistening tears. “And I am so, so sorry, I know--I know your job is here, and your whole life, and the children, but I--”

She took his hand in hers, squeezing gently so he didn’t fly away. “It’s okay,” she said. “Just say it.”

“I’m supposed to--I’m supposed to… if you would… come with me,” he trailed off, suddenly shy. 

For the second time tonight, she felt like she’d been hit with a sledgehammer. “...What?”

“He… my father… the king wants--needs heirs. He… he asked for a list of women, and I… gave him your name.” Stomach hot, Annabeth wished she had the courage to know about the other women on that list. Or to ask  why Percy, young and handsome as he’d been at both twelve and twenty, wasn’t out there making some new ones himself. Why was he chasing down old leads? Why was he chasing down Chase bastards? “You’d--you’d live in the castle,” he said, like he was trying to sell her on it, though she could tell his heart wasn’t really in it, “and we, well, we’d technically have to get married, but that doesn’t need to be a big deal. You’d get your own rooms. You can set them up however you want. And you’d have a personal staff, a stipend, and the kids would get private teachers, and--”

“Staff?”

He blinked, caught off guard. “Yes?”

Staff. Someone to do the laundry and clean the dishes. Someone to cook dinner and look after the house. Someone to help. Someone to do all the parental things that she just could not do, not by herself. Not without him. 

“I know I have no right to ask this of you,” he said, squeezing her hand. His hand was just as big as she remembered, and just as warm. “And I would never, ever force you to do anything that you wouldn’t want to--”

“Yes,” she said, interrupting him. 

He blinked, dumbly. “What?”

“Yes. I’ll come with you. We all will.”

“...Oh. Uh, great. That’s--that’s good. Are you sure?” He looked like a lost little dolphin, eyes huge and uncertain, and then, Annabeth did the one thing that she’d been desperately wanting to do for the last four years. 

She pulled his face to hers, and she kissed him. Shocked, he stiffened, almost pulling away--before relaxing into her, cupping her face in his big, warm hand. Eyes closed, they leaned their heads against each other, sharing air once more for the first time in years. She had lost him twice already: once as a child, when her father had decided to move her across the country, and once as a lovestruck college girl, when she had to leave the naval base, four years ago. She wasn’t about to lose him for a third time. 

And for the first time in forever, she no longer felt like she was drowning.

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐃 [𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐄 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒]

PAIRINGS —  Reggie Peters x fem!Reader

SUMMARY —  The gang decides to have a sleepover and spend some time in a day where life is really crazy.

WARNINGS — maybe a minor swear or two, but i tried to keep it family friendly

NOTE — this is my submission for the first day of reggie appreciation week! i’m super excited to be giving you guys some new content over the next seven days. today’s theme was quotes and the one i chose was “I always thought that quicksand was going to be a much bigger problem than it turned out to be.” happy reading! ​

“Mom I’m gonna be fine,” you insisted, waving your hand dismissively while you packed a bag. “Emily will be around and it’s just the boys,”

“I know,” your mother sighed and scratched her head. “Just keep safe and remind the boys to as well,”

“I will you nodded,” slinging your bag over your shoulder and grabbing your guitar on the way out in case the boys decided to have a jam session.

“Who’s coming to pick you up?” your mother asked.

“Alex and Reggie,” you said while sliding down the railing. “I’ll be back sometime tomorrow,”

“Love you!” your mom called back in a rushed confusion.

“Love you too!” you slammed the door and waved happily at Reggie and Alex who were parked outside of your driveway.

“(N/N), what’s up,” Alex grinned back at you while turning the keys in the ignition.

“Nothing much, how about you?”

“Well I mean we did see each other like three hours ago so the most interesting thing that’s happened since then is I saw Reggie get stuck in a revolving door, but that happens at least once a month.”

“I know, but hey!” Reggie feigned offence and you laughed at the boys.

“How about you Reggie? Excited for tonight? It’s been ages since we’ve done this,”

“It sure has,” Reggie nodded in agreement. ‘It’s quite possible I forgot to pack clothes and just brought food, but Luke will have something I can borrow,”

“You guys are really something else,” you rolled your eyes and sat back in the middle seat, not really bothering to put your seatbelt on.

Alex popped in a CD and Reggie turned up the volume, blasting the music as you sped down the streets to Luke’s place.

When you arrived at the small home you were greeted warmly by Emily who brought each of you in for a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. She was like a mom to all of you, Luke’s house had just become the general gathering place. And even though she butted heads with her son and his choices on occasion everyone knew they loved each other deeply.

“Looking wonderful as ever Mrs. Patterson,” Reggie smiled after giving her a hug.

“Why am I not surprised he’s such a mom friend?” Bobby asked while making his way from the hallway into the living room.

Reggie stuck his tongue out at Bobby and said, “You’re only saying that because you’re jealous I’m Em’s favourite,”

“Okay pretty sure I’m her favourite,” Luke added while coming into the room. “You guys ready? I’ve got some games set up in my room,”

“And dinner will be ready at six so don’t be late otherwise I might have to eat all the pizza,”

“Emily you’re an angel,” Reggie grinned and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Alright now shoo you guys,” she waved her hands, prompting you all to drag your things into Luke’s room, piling up the bags in one corner and the instruments in another.

“Okay I’m calling it, we do Monopoly first,” you said, pulling out the game from Luke’s closet.

You had all been there so many times it was practically your collective room.

Luke’s parents had even allowed him to move into the larger room when it seemed his old one was too small to hold all five of you.

“I want the dog!” Reggie bolted for the pieces, grabbing the bag out of your hands and snatching the small metal dog.

“And I will take the trash,” Bobby nodded, “Cause that's where I belong,”

“You do know that’s a thimble,” Alex noted and Bobby replied with an obscene gesture.

“I’ll take the car,” Luke nodded.

“I’m good with the boot,” Alex said, motioning for Luke to pass him the figure.

“I’ll take the iron then,” you said, taking the bag from Luke. “You know these are really random. It’s like someone looked at what was laying in and around their house and said: you know what these would make great game pieces.”

“You’re not wrong,” Reggie agreed with you while looking curiously at the small dog.

About an hour and a half into the game things were starting to get heated,

“Bobby you knew I was going for Reading Railroad you asshole!”

“Language honey!” Emily called from the kitchen.

“Well you snooze you lose Patterson,” Bobby grinned and Luke lunged towards him only to be stopped by Alex, but unfortunately taking out the whole board and messing up all the placements and cards in the process.

“Can someone lend me some money,” Reggie asked, puckering his lips and holding you his small stack of cash. “I have like 43 dollars,”

Meanwhile, you were sitting on your corner, piles of money surrounding you. It was so much you even had to borrow some from the game of life at one point, but it seemed as though it was becoming time to end the game and move onto something else.

The unanimous decision was to play the game of Life and save the non-board game activities for later in the night.

Let’s just say the gang had a track record of getting violent over games if that wasn’t already obvious.

“Oh my God, I have another baby!” Reggie grinned happily, placing his fifth or sixth child on the top of the car.

“What did you name this one?” Bobby asked, leaning back.

“Okay, so,” Reggie grinned, ready to give everyone a rundown of the names of all of the children in his car. “This is Jessica, she’s my oldest, absolute sweetheart and loves cooking, then there’s Elliot who’s such a drama geek, but we love him, Then there’s Carla and Sophiana who are twins, they hate each other, but are also very protective, and lastly here we have little Alexander, named after Alex because I felt like it,”

Alex placed a hand over his heart and cooed while the rest of you laughed.

“Guys dinner’s ready!” Emily called and Reggie was the first to abandon everything, even stepping over Luke and Bobby to get through the door.

“Reggie, relax babe,” you laughed, pushing yourself up and helping Luke and Bobby in the process.

“Have I ever told you how cute I think it is when you call us dumb pet names?” Bobby chuckled, slinging an arm around your shoulder.

It was true, Reggie was exclusively babe, Luke was honey, Alex was sweetie, and Bobby was darlin’.

“Someone might get the wrong impression and think I’m dating one of you guys,” you poked and Reggie came and attacked you with a hug from behind,

“I hope you tell them it’s me,” he said while pressing a smacking kiss to your cheek.

“We’ll see about that,” you teased.

Dinner was phenomenal as usual, Emily would always make her own pizzas from scratch and it was the comfort food for the band.

The meal was running quite smoothly until Bobby decided it would be a great idea to pick off a mushroom from his pizza, which Luke hated, and throw it in his direction, just not accounting for the fact you’d be leaning right in between the two, letting the mushroom smack you straight in the eye.

“Bobby!” you exclaimed.

“Sorry that was meant for Luke!” he apologized profusely,

“What?! For me?! After what you did?!” Luke exclaimed, grabbing his coca-cola and throwing it in Bobby’s face.

“Oh please God no,” Alex whispered.

“Food fight!” Bobby exclaimed and Emily didn’t even hesitate a second to get up, knowing it was no use to stop the teenagers.

“I hope you know you’re cleaning this up, Lucas! I was no wasted food!” she called.

“Got it mom!” he nodded, throwing a slice of pizza in Bobby’s direction, nailing him in the shoulder.

Reggie had since then decided to use you as a human shield, covering behind you.

“Stop using me as a shield Peters!” you exclaimed while you were getting caught in the crossfire of toppings and vegetables.

“Hey! I thought I was babe,” he pouted, turning you around to look at you.

“Not when you use me to deflect food you aren’t,”

Reggie instead, pulled you into his embrace, now shielding you from the incoming attacks.

“Guys!” Alex complained. “Come on we could be eating this!”

“It’s okay Reggie doesn’t care he can eat it,”

“I feel like I should be offended by that, but it’s true so I can’t be,” he admitted and you laughed.

After things died down you all got up, helping clean up the dining room.

Thank God it’s hardwood floors. You thought to yourself.

Luke suggested then you take things to the hot tub where you could all relax before slipping into bed and talking into the late hours of the morning.

You all agreed and took turns getting changed in the two washrooms. Luke tossed you a towel as you headed out the back door and the rest of the boys were hot on your tail, all slipping into the comfortable hot water.

Reggie seemed to think it was his duty to shield you from the prying eyes of Luke and Bobby, who to be perfectly honest weren’t even doing anything,

“Stop looking at my girlfriend you pervs!” he exclaimed, using his own body to hide yours.

“Reggie you do know I’m not your girlfriend,” you raised a brow.

“Not yet you aren’t gorgeous,” he winked at you and the boys laughed at his shenanigans.

“You also know we’ve seen (Y/N) in a bikini before,” Bobby added.

“Shame on you,” Reggie clicked his tongue before finally moving aside, but still wrapping his arms around you like a koala.

“Alex is there something wrong with your suit?” you asked as he had his hands awkwardly placed on his lap.

“N-No all good,” he insisted.

“Dude, come on, did it get small or something?” Luke asked.

Before Alex could say anything Boby swatted Alex’s hands away and his bathing suit filled with air from the jets, filling up like a balloon and Alex quickly tried to push the suit back down.

The boys burst into a fit of roaring laughter and you let out a chuckle as Alex’s beet-red face insisted.

“It’s not my fault guys!”

“Yeah doesn’t stop it from being funny,” Reggie continued to laugh.

As relaxing as the hot tub was you all had to leave before you increased your body temperatures too much and started to feel faint.

When you went inside you all changed into pyjamas and laid down on your respective mats and beds.

“You know,” Reggie started and the group groaned, already knowing what was coming. You just giggled, snuggling yourself further into his embrace. “I really thought quicksand was going to be a much bigger problem than it turned out to be,”

“Reggie I love you, but sometimes the things you say-,” you cut yourself off with your own laughter.

“No seriously though! You always see it in comics and cartoons and movies and when do you ever encounter it in real life. Almost never! Like why didn’t they warn us about the dangers of walking the street at night or something actually useful,”

“Cause what kids show is going to centre their plot around walking alone at night?” Alex added from the couch, tossing a ball up and down in the air.

“Guys I don’t mean to bring down the mood,” Bobby said, looking up at the ceiling. “but do you guys ever feel like there’s not really a place for us besides with each other? I-I mean that’s just kind of how I feel but I wasn’t sure if you guys did too,”

“No I get what you mean,” you nodded in agreement. “but I also don’t think that’s a bad thing, you guys are family,”

Alex nodded stiffly and seemed to be biting the inside of his cheek, Reggie noticed this and brought it up,

“Alex you alright man?”

Alex looked like he was about to nod his head, but shook it instead, choosing to be honest.

“What happened sweetie?” you asked gently and he stopped throwing his ball up in the air.

“I came out to my parents… it… it didn’t go as well as I hoped,” he explained, fighting back tears. “They just looked so disappointed.”

Reggie didn’t hesitate to push himself up from the mat, coming to join Alex on the couch and bringing his friend into a tight hug.

You, Bobby, and Luke joined not much longer after, hoping you could deliver some comfort to your friend. Alex was Alex, that hadn’t changed and you wondered why his parents couldn’t see that.

“You know I was having an existential crisis once,” Reggie started and Alex was already laughing through his tears knowing his friend was going to use some sort of random story to try and cheer him up. “See I couldn’t find the parmesan cheese and then I started freaking out, but it was just on the table,” Reggie nodded while Bobby gave him a punch in the arm.

“Reggie that’s not even funny,” you said, but couldn’t help yourself from laughing.

“Well, Alex thinks it’s hilarious and that’s all that matters,” Reggie added squeezing his friend tighter.

The group continued to speak a bit more about the heavy topics until their eyes became heavier than words and most of them fell asleep.

Reggie thought you wouldn’t notice as he quietly stood up and left the room, so you followed him, seeing him leave through the unlocked back door, sitting on the brick ledge in the backyard.

“You know you can’t escape that easy babe,” you said softly, causing him to turn around and notice you.

He chuckled softly while you slowly walked over to him, one hand in the pocket of your sweater, the other fixing his hair that had fallen in front of his eyes.

“Hey, Reg?”

“Mhmm,” he nodded, looking out at the soft city lights in the distance.

“I know you were deflecting with that whole cheese thing,” you said while seating yourself sideways in his lap.

“Oh really?” he asked and you nodded.

“Everyone else shared something, you just kind of stayed quiet,” you explained. “But you don’t have to if you don’t want to. You can always talk to me,”

There was a short period of silence, but then out of the blue Reggie decided to speak up,

“Sometimes I don’t wanna talk,” Reggie admitted, looking up at you. “Sometimes I just want someone to hold me, pretend my problems don’t exist. Just for a second,”

“Well I can do that too,” you nodded, turning yourself slightly so you could wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a hug.

You stayed there, you weren’t entirely sure how long, but when you pulled apart it was agonizingly slow, clear that both of you would have rather stayed in that position.

When Reggie’s cheek grazed against your own, your eyes couldn’t help but flick down to his lips, and you didn’t know if it was the exhaustion or the need to be close to him again, but you kissed him.

It was soft and not very long, but it felt warm and complete.

When you pulled back again, Reggie went to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, resting his forehead on yours.

Your mom had told you at the beginning of the night to stay safe, you were almost one hundred percent sure that wasn’t what she meant, but with Reggie, everything felt safe and that’s all that mattered.

​​

[mintaka14]

This is the start of my newest multi-chapter Lukanette story, and a Dammit Quick! fic. To the LBSC crowd - you’re all a pack of enablers, so have some Disney music-nerd angst/fluff with a Julerose wedding for good measure.

See the Light

A Miraculous Ladybug fanfiction

By Mintaka14

Chapter One – All Those Years

 Luka Couffaine got the shock of his life when, six months before his sister’s wedding, his past walked onto the boat. She moved with an assurance that she’d never had at fourteen. A little older at twenty-four, a little less arms-and-legs and a little more rounded curves, but still with those same devastating blue eyes.

Her hand curled on the rail, and he realised he was staring.

“Luka,” she said. “Hi.”

“Ma-ma-marinette,” he managed, and that mouth of hers lifted in a tentative smile. “It’s been a while.”

“It’s been a while,” she agreed softly. “How are you?”

He said something, he wasn’t sure what.

“I take it Juleka didn’t mention that I was coming,” she said. “I’ve offered to design the dresses for the wedding, and she suggested I come round today to talk about them. Are you… is it okay that I’m here?”

At that, Luka jolted out of his distraction and offered her a more genuine smile.

“Marinette, it’s more than okay. It’s good to see you again. You’re looking well.”

Her own smile grew a little brighter, and she flicked a quick glance down and back up to meet his eyes again. “So are you.”

“Marinette! You made it!” Rose’s shriek cut off any response he might have made. Rose barrelled up the steps from the galley and past him to engulf Marinette in a tight hug, with Juleka not far behind. Luka had a moment to collect himself while they caught up. All in all, he thought he’d handled it pretty well. He hadn’t actually swallowed his tongue.

Marinette flashed a brief, rueful smile at him over her shoulder as Rose towed her below deck, leaving Luka to pull his scattered thoughts together. He hadn’t seen her in ten years and she could still bowl him over at first sight. He turned absently to the stack of papers he’d been working on when she arrived, barely seeing them.

He hadn’t made much progress half an hour later, and gave up, heading down to the galley. A burst of laughter drew his attention and in the other room he could see Marinette wielding a tape measure around his sister with brisk efficiency, while Rose sat on the table, swinging her legs as she flicked through a plain black sketchbook. He’d seen plenty of the same type of book back when he’d been spending a lot of time with Marinette all those years ago. He leaned in the doorway, unnoticed, watching Marinette at work.

It had always been hard to define exactly what made Marinette so overwhelming whenever he saw her. Maybe it was the sense of intensity and creative fire, as if her skin could barely contain everything that she was, or the fierce, giving heart that shone within her. Maybe it was the endless blue of her eyes that spoke to him of a limitless horizon. It seemed like none of that had changed.

What had changed was the dizzying rush he felt as she bent to pick up something and he found himself following the tight curve of her jeans and the contour of her strong, lean legs. He jerked his wayward gaze away, trying to fight down the heat in his cheeks and the fleeting speculation about what it might be like to have those legs wrapped around him, and those beautiful eyes of hers on him while he … God, Couffaine, get your mind out of the gutter! It had been ten years since he’d last seen her, and these were not appropriate thoughts to be having barely thirty minutes and less than a handful of words of conversation after she’d turned up in his life again.

She had always been a pretty girl, but that was nothing to the gorgeous woman she’d grown into.

He would have bet money that the jeans hugging those legs like a second skin were her own design, and the silky red shirt sliding artfully off one shoulder but never quite falling looked like it had come straight from the fashion week runway. The way Marinette filled it, though, was far more distracting than any model could have ever made it.

The pigtails were another thing that was gone, but he didn’t spare them more than a moment of nostalgia, because the blue-black satin of her hair was caught up in a knot that left the smooth line of her neck bare, and that was a whole other train of thought that he cut off quickly. He looked up to find that she was watching him with a quizzical expression, and he managed to answer it with a smile of his own before Rose noticed him standing there.

“Luka!” she called out. “You have got to see what Marinette’s come up with for us!”

She was practically bouncing, and shoved the sketchbook at him. He looked at Marinette, one eyebrow raised in a question, before he opened it.

“If Marinette’s okay with that,” he said. Marinette’s mouth lifted in a smile at that.

“Marinette’s okay with that,” she told him, and he opened the cover. The slim book was full of designs and scribbled ideas and notes on wedding dresses. He’d seen her fourteen year old designs, and been impressed by them, but this… this was a whole other level, which, he supposed, wasn’t surprising. He turned through the pages slowly. He paused on one that was clearly meant for Juleka.

“Wow,” he said softly.

“That’s one of my favourites, too,” Marinette said. She’d come to look over his shoulder, and he was finding that rather unsettling for some reason. “Juleka’s so elegant, she could wear just about anything, but I like that structure for her.”

“It feels like her.” He glanced up at Marinette. “Dangerous edges, with just a bit of sweetness underneath.”

Marinette turned another few pages, and waited for Luka to find it.

“Rose,” he grinned back at her. “Channelling her inner Disney princess?”

“The brief was Sleeping Beauty, live action, but more -” Marinette gestured extravagantly, opening her eyes wide, and from the table where she was perched, Rose stuck out her tongue at them.

“It’s my wedding, and I’ll princess if I want to,” Rose sniffed.

Luka glanced back at the sketch, and was impressed all over again. Marinette had somehow turned flowers and glitter and pink and Rose into a few lines of charcoal and caught it on the page. Her own special brand of magic.

On the other side of the room, Juleka looked up from her phone.

“I’ve just ordered takeaway, and Ivan and Mylène are on their way,” she told them, and levelled a look at Marinette. “You are staying, aren’t you?”

By the time Marinette had been talked into it, and Ivan and Mylène had turned up in a bustle of exclamations and hugs and chatter, Luka had recovered something of his equilibrium. As darkness fell over the river and the lights strung up across the boat spilled a soft light over the deck, Luka handed Marinette a glass of wine and settled into the deck chair beside her.

“You’re wearing a tie these days,” she said with a hint of mischief, and he glanced down at the shirt he’d rolled up over his tattooed forearms and the tie he’d forgotten he was still wearing. “I never pictured you in the kind of career that would need a tie.”

He pulled himself together enough to smile easily back at her. “Well, it’s been a while. A few things have changed. I see you’re not wearing those pigtails anymore,” he teased her, and her hand went to the soft satin twist of her hair.

“No.” Marinette leaned back in the chair, her wine glass in hand, and her eyes were on Rose and Ivan arguing amicably about something. There was an indefinable sense of distance in her that had never been there when they were kids, and he wondered what had happened to put that there.

“So when did you get back in touch with Jules? She didn’t mention that she’d seen you.”

“I was showing a couple of pieces at something Juleka was modelling at a while ago. We bumped into each other backstage, and when she mentioned that she and Rose were getting married I offered to make up the dresses for them. My wedding present to them,” she said with a self-conscious smile, and Luka couldn’t help a soft laugh.

“Only you would do that for someone you haven’t seen in years.”

“They’re still friends.” She rolled her eyes at him. “Like you wouldn’t do the same.”

Rose was standing on a stack of crates now, singing something about rainbows, while Juleka hooked an arm around her to keep her from overbalancing and Mylène snorted with laughter. Marinette looked over at them a little wistfully.

“It’s nice to be back in touch with the old Kitty Section crew,” she admitted. “It was nice to reconnect with Juleka… and you. I’ve missed that.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Luka said quietly. “Do you see much of the old school crowd?”

Marinette shrugged. “Not really. I run into Adrien from time to time. I see him at the fashion shows sometimes, but honestly, once we get past the awkward reminiscing about collège, and industry stuff, we don’t really have a whole lot to talk about these days. I’ve sort of lost touch with everyone else.”

“How about Alya?” he asked. Luka had never really warmed to the brash journalist-in-the-making, with all her Adrien-schemes, but she’d been best friends with Marinette back in the day.

“No.” The one word was oddly expressionless. “I haven’t see her in a few years.”

There was a heartbeat when he thought she was going to say something else, then those lashes of hers dropped. Instead, when she looked up again there was that mischievous spark in her eyes again, and she said, “So what convinced you to put on a tie? Although I notice you didn’t get rid of your blue hair.” Was that an approving note in her voice? He ran his hand a little self-consciously through the longer, teal-tipped sweep of his dark hair, rubbing at the shorter hairs at the back of his neck. “What are you doing these days?”

“Playing the occasional gig whenever I get the chance, selling my music from time to time, teaching…”

“Teaching?”

He named the lycèe.

“Lucky students.” Marinette tilted her head to regard him speculatively, a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth. “I’m having a hard time seeing you as M. Couffaine, though.”

“Just Luka. I’m the cool teacher that half the faculty hates because I undermine authority.”

“And the other half madly crush on,” Marinette suggested, and Luka felt himself flush. She could still throw him off-balance, all these years later, although it was in a different way now. The fourteen year old Marinette he remembered would never have been able to say something like that without self-combusting, but here she was, watching him with that mischievous glint in her beautiful blue eyes, and it was just another reminder that things had changed.

“What about you?” he deflected. He gestured at the sketchbook she’d left on a nearby table with her handbag. “Following the dream?”

She gave a wry little smile. “Oh, I got through my degree in fashion design somehow, and I’ve been running a bespoke atelier out of my bedroom. It’s not huge, but it pays the bills, and at least it gives me a certain amount of … flexibility.” Luka couldn’t understand the slight twist of her mouth at the word, but she had it smoothed out before he could be sure he’d really seen it. “And Ja… a few high profile people have been very kind and sent work my way.”

Luka felt certain he knew who the celebrity had been. For that alone, he could forgive his father a lot. There was a long silence while Marinette contemplated her empty wine glass, then she met his eyes.

“You have no idea how sorry I am that I broke up with you like that, right when you were going through everything with... I just made everything worse, and it wasn’t fair on you. I never really found a way to tell you that I was sorry for everything.”

“Marinette, no!” Luka straightened in his deckchair, a faint frown crossing his face. “We were kids. I’ve always felt badly that I put you under more pressure when you were clearly having a hard time with something.”

“There was a fair bit of that going around,” she conceded, and let out a shuddering breath that he didn’t realise she’d been holding. “But you have nothing to apologise for, you had every right to be upset about how I treated you. I regret a lot of things about back then.”

“I don’t regret that we tried,” Luka said with unintentional intensity, and Marinette’s eyes widened a little. “But I do regret that I lost you out of my life altogether. You always had the most fascinating way of seeing things, and I missed just hanging out and talking to you.”

“I didn’t think you’d want to see me after all that. And I thought it was saf -“ she cut herself off abruptly, changing what she’d been going to say, “- better if I stayed away.”

He shook his head, but didn’t say anything in response.

She gave him a sidelong look. “I never really got the chance to ask you, did you… how did things go with Jagged in the end? Do you talk to him?”

Luka’s expression turned wry. “It’s complicated. It’s always complicated with Jagged, but we talk a bit. He’s going to be there for the wedding. Not sure how that’s going to go.”

Marinette made a sympathetic noise. He thought for a moment that she was going to ask him for the details, but instead, with another swift, perceptive glance from those blue eyes of hers, she changed the subject.

“So what’s teaching like, M. Couffaine?” she asked lightly, and he settled back to tell her some of his stories, enjoying the ripple of laughter he drew from her over his students’ antics, and the chuckles she surprised out of him with her own tales about clients and their most outrageous demands. He had no idea how late it had grown when the conversation was interrupted by a chorus of phones chiming all at once from various corners of the Liberty. Ivan was the first to reach his.

“Akuma alert,” he sighed. “Aw, man, they’ve shut down septième. Traffic getting home is going to be hell.”

“What’s the bet that it’s the Eiffel Tower again?” Juleka muttered.

Mylène was shaking her head. “Hawkmoth, and now Swallowtail, and there was that weird thing with the rats a few years ago, and the government keeps pretending that there’s nothing they can do as long as they can just dump it all on Ladybug and Chat Noir to deal with the problem. We’re still working on getting subsidies for mental health therapies, but they keep stonewalling us.”

Marinette was getting to her feet.

“I really should go,” she said reluctantly, and Luka stood as she gathered up her bag and sketchbook. “It was… really nice to catch up again, Luka. It’s been far too long.”

“Oh, but you’ll be back again soon, right?” Rose cut in before Luka could say anything. “There’ll be fittings for the wedding dresses, and we’re not letting you lose contact again like that. We’ve missed you, right, Luka?”

Luka ignored Rose’s unsubtle nudge, and Marinette said her goodbyes to the rest of their friends.

“It’s good to see you again, Marinette,” he told her, and accepted the light bise she brushed against his cheek. He caught a hint of vanilla and sugar as she leaned in, and oh hell, it suddenly hit him why the smell of cookies had always left him with a faint and peculiar sense of homesickness when his mother had never baked a cookie in her life. He closed his eyes briefly, and let Marinette go before he could do something stupid.

Luka watched her safely down to the dock, and he absolutely was not fixating on the sway of those jeans as she walked away, holy crap, and turned back to meet Rose’s hopeful and utterly transparent look.

“So-oo,” his future sister-in-law said with overdone nonchalance. “You and Marinette looked like you were having a good time together.”

“Don’t go getting ideas, Ro.”

“Rose,” Juleka muttered warningly from the bench where she was sitting, but Rose ignored her.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said innocently. “I just want you to be happy Luka. It looked like you were really happy tonight. And it was great to see Marinette again.”

“No ideas,” he repeated, and Rose gave him a look of deep disappointment. She started collecting the empty takeaway containers, while Luka rounded up the glasses. Rose dropped a kiss on Juleka’s mouth on the way past, and flitted down into the galley. Juleka heaved a put-upon sigh, and swung herself gracefully to her feet, scooping up a couple of stray cushions.

Luka picked up Marinette’s wineglass, with the soft pink imprint of her lipstick.

“You didn’t mention that Marinette would be coming round,” he said, his back to his sister. “You didn’t mention that you’d been in touch with her again.”

Juleka shrugged, and dumped the cushions in one of the storage boxes on the deck. “Didn’t think it mattered. It was ten years ago. You’re not still hung up on what happened back then, are you?”

“No, of course not.” And he was pretty sure that was true. This felt like he’d been blindsided by Marinette Dupain-Cheng in a whole new way.