#i spent over a year finishing this whoops sorry

[korattata]

remind me to never ever read the comments on a game that's in early access ever again

[m4ttslvr]

High By The Beach

sub!chris x fem!reader

one shot: where you get high by the beach with your bff chris but things get heated when you two are left alone ;)

warnings: smut, riding, fem receiving, drug use obv

——————————.ᘒ｡ﾟ𓇼･༄･—————————

Your guys' last day in Hawaii was coming to an end, the sun disappearing behind the slow waves of the clearest ocean you had ever seen. You, Chris, Matt, Nick and Madi had spent the day doing all sorts of fun activities- swimming with dolphins, taking a tour on a helicopter, walking all over the island visiting stores and restaurants. Needless to say, you were all exhausted from the days itinerary.

That's why you were all resting at the beach, sitting in a circle by the fire, recounting the days events while passing a joint around.

"And then Nick slapped the dolphin!" Matt was saying, all of you dying of laughter. Nick who was taking a drag of the joint choked on the smoke, making everyone laugh harder.

"I apologized to Mr. Squeaky!" Nick defended between coughs and laughter, "He sneaked up behind me, I didn't mean to do it!"

Chris, who was laying his head on your lap, took the joint from Nick's hand, "If I was Mr. Squeaky, I would have bit you" he joked, earning a dramatic scoff from Nick.

You giggled, Chris grinning up at you, his eyelids low. You watch him as he wraps his pink lips around the roll of weed, his cheekbones prominent as he inhales the smoke, his hair tickling your thighs, and his jawline sharp as he blows the smoke up at you.

“Hey!” you protest, falling back into the sand. “Stop that you goof!”

His head rolls over onto your exposed tummy and he looks at you with a mischievous smile, discarding the finished joint. He puffs his cheeks and before you realize what he’s going to do, he leans forward and blows a raspberry on your tummy making you laugh uncontrollably.

“Chris! Chris!” you say between gasps for air, he’s now tickling your sides while blowing raspberries. “Stop it” your hands are on his hair but you’re too weak to push him off.

He pulls away laughing with his tongue sticking out “You’re tummy was right there, I had to!” You roll your eyes. You’re about to protest when he stuffs a marshmallow in your mouth. Your protests are muffled by the marshmallow and he breaks into a louder fit of laughter.

You can’t get annoyed at his actions. His laughter is super contagious and with the weed in your system you can’t help but join him.

Your laugh is cut off by Madi yelling “I’m awake!” out of nowhere. You all watch her as she slowly falls onto Matt’s shoulder and she shoots up again “I’m awake I swear!” she mumbles, her eyes closing.

“Alright!” Nick exclaims, “time for bed!”. Matt agrees and carries Madi to the hotel.

“Whaaat?” Chris whines, sitting up. “I was about to light up my other joint!”

“You haven’t had enough?” Nick asks.

“No” Chris deadpans. “Have you y/n? Cmon back me up” he pleads.

“I could have another few more hits” you shrug.

“Alright you stoners,” Nick replies. “Have fun!”

“Niiiight Nicky” you both wave goodbye.

The fire is dying out and the breeze is getting cooler, as Chris searches his shorts pockets for the other joint. “Whoops.”

“What?” you ask.

“I…may have… already smoked the other joint earlier”

“Chris!”

“Sorry y/n!” he falls back into the sand next to you, defeated. “I forgot I did that”

You both sigh, looking up at the starry night, the fire died out completely.

You turn to look at him, his side profile stunning. You were always taken aback by your best friend’s beauty, no matter how many years of friendship you had under your belt. His wavy hair fell over his face perfectly, like a prince. His nose sculpted like a greek statue, and his cheekbones like a model’s. His dark blue eyes as blue as the ocean a few feet away from you.

Those eyes were looking back at you now. “Hey” his voice quiet.

“Hey” you smiled.

A silence settled between you. The silence usually comfortable, but right now, for some reason, you were getting nervous with his eyes on you. You felt your cheeks get hot and you couldn’t hold eye contact with him.

“Am I making you blush y/n?”

“What? No!” you quipped. It wasn’t unusual for Chris to jokingly flirt but something about how he looked tonight and the heat of his body…it was making you panic.

“You sure?” he has a smirk on his face, unaware of his effect on you.

“Yeah- yes I’m sure. I’m just getting chilly. The sun set already, the fire is out and the breeze is cool, I’m in this swim suit.” you ramble. “Can we get in the tent or something?”

“Sure” he helps you up and tucks you under the blankets, cuddling up against you.

This was okay. You were cool about this. You and Chris cuddled all the time. Best friends cuddle. Best friends share the same tent and cuddle under the same blankets. Right? Yeah! Of course. This was normal and cool.

His arm brushed your breasts as he lifted it to wrap it behind your neck. Your heart skipped a beat and you felt something flutter down there. Alright, now you were blushing hard. Like this your breasts pressed against his side and you you felt your nipples get hard. You knew he could feel them through the thin fabric of your bikini top.

“You alright?” he asked, his voice huskier than before. God, what was happening to you? Now you were noticing a change in his voice? It must be the weed in your system. Of course! The weed is the one making you think like this.

“Mhm” you hummed, your pitch high. It was obvious you were not alright. He must feel your heart beating out of your chest and your legs rubbing against each other.

“You sure?” he asks again.

“Yes Chris I’m alr-“ you stop mid sentence when your leg slides up his body and it hits something hard, causing a low moan to escape Chris.

You both freeze in place, both of you shocked at what just happened. You had just felt Chris’ erection on your leg and clearly heard him moan.

Chris is the first to move, sitting up and hiding his face in his hands. You sit up next to him, placing a soft hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry y/n, I don’t know what happened” his voice muffled against his hands.

“It’s okay Chris, don’t worry about it”

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, i’m sorry”

“I’m not uncomfortable Chris” you reassure him. “I’m actually…feeling…the same.”

Your feel him tense under your hand. You can’t believe you just admitted that. You just admitted to your best friend that you’re as turned on by him as he is by you.

He slowly lifts his face from his hands, turning to look at you. You see a hunger in his eyes that you’ve never seen before as he scans your face, his gaze lingering on your bitten lips. “R-really?”

You nod slowly, shuffling closer to him. Your body was acting on its own, as if by a magnetic pull. You wanted nothing more than to be pressed up against him again. You wanted to be the cause of his moans again. Now that you’ve had a taste, you were starving for more.

You leaned forward and kissed your best friends lips. They were softer than you thought and you tasted marshmallow. His lashes tickeled your cheeks as you deepened the kiss, his tongue gliding on your bottom lip. You pulled him closer, your fingers in his hair. You parted your lips, letting him explore your mouth with his tongue. He hear him moan for the second time tonight and the sound goes directly to your pussy, making it throb with yearning.

You guided his body down to lay on his back, his eyes locked on yours. You could both see in each other’s eyes that you both thought this was crazy, you had been best friends for years now, nothing more. But you could also see the fiery desire in your expressions and that overpowered any other reasoning.

You lifted one leg over his body and he quickly guided your hips down to his groin with his hands. You could feel every inch of his growing erection against your wet heat, making you both moan in unison. He felt big which didn’t surprise you, but it did make you instinctively grind against it.

“Fuck y/n” Chris groaned underneath you, his head tilting back in pleasure. Your tummy did a flip, desire growing hot inside of you. It was intoxicating to be the reason he’s making those filthy noises.

He gripped your hips tighter, his biceps contracting, grinding your hips against him. “More more more” he pleaded. You had never seen this side of Chris, so needy and whiny. Every sound escaping his mouth was heavenly.

His cock was rock hard now and your bikini bottoms were soaked. “Enough grinding” your voice breathy but your tone stern. His eyes wide and expectant. “I’m dying to ride this cock”

“Mmm yes please” Chris whimpered, his hip bucking up as you slid his shorts down. “God y/n, youre hypnotizing” he mumbled, lifting himself on his elbows to admire you. Your ass was up in the air, back arched, and your teeth biting down on your lip to keep from drooling.

His boxers were wet at the spot where the tip of his cock was leaking precum. You leaned your head down toward it, licking through the fabric. Chris inhaled through his teeth, his eyes rolling back.

You reached over to grab his hand and place it in your hair, “pull it”

He quickly obeyed, wrapping your hair in his long fingers and pulling. You moaned against his clothed cock, the vibrations making his dick twitch. “Holy shit” he groaned out.

You wrapped your lips around his hard cock, tasting his precum through his boxers. He was watching you in awe. You took in every expression he made, looking up through your eyelashes.

“y/n?” he moaned as you started palming him.

“Mhm?”

“I…..I-I've dreamt of tasting your pussy for the longest time y/n, can I please? I promise I'll make it good, please let me taste you on my tongue” he begs.

You're hypnotized by his string of pleas. You quietly crawl up to straddle his face. He takes your ass in both of his big hands, pulling you down quickly onto his mouth.

Your back arches in pleasure as his hot tongue licks a fat stripe up your folds. Your head falls back, your eyes in the back of your head. “Fuck yeah Chris,” you moan, riding his face.

He’s making all sorts of porn-like noises into your wet pussy. “Just like that Chris, fuck yeah, right there”

He is assaulting your hole with quick jabs of his tongue. It reaches impossibly deep inside you. He folds it in a way that scratches that sensitive bundle of nerves, making your legs shake.

You feel pleasure pool in your belly and you lift off him. He whines at the loss of contact.

“Need your cock now” you shuffle down to straddle his lap and align his memeber with your pulsating hole.

You sink down on his cock, balls deep. His jaw hangs open, his body washed in so much pleasure that the only noise he’s able to form is a small squeak. “You like my tight pussy taking in your entire cock like this, hmm baby?

He nods, another small squeak, his jaw slack, his eyes in the back of his head.

You start bouncing on his cock, sliding all the way to the tip and slamming back down to the base. His girth is spreading you wide open and his length is hitting you just right. “Your dick’s so big, making me feel so good baby,”

“Mhm,” his grip on your thighs tightens.

“Am I making you feel good baby?"

He nods fast, his hair sticking to his forehead.

“Tell me how good”

He moans louder, biting the sheets at his side.

“Tell me how good Chris”

“So fucking good y/n/n, you're fucking me so good”

Your hips stutter at the mention of your nickname. He usually ever only called you that when he was being serious with you. In this context, it only motivated you to give it to him harder and rougher.

“Yeah baby? You like my pussy slapping down on your balls like this?”

“Yes yes yes, you're riding me so well y/n/n" he said between gasps for air, "your pussy feels heavenly y/n/n- ah just like that mhmm”

You take his hands placing them above his head as you arch your back so your clit is rubbing against his groin. His attention is now completely on the feeling of your pussy grinding down on his cock. He’s moaning and whining incoherent praises, his eyes shut closed.

You wrap your free hand around his jaw making his eyes widen, “be a good boy and fuck up into me” you pant into his open mouth.

His breath hitches and a beat later he’s slamming his dick up into your pussy, making wet sounds reverberate inside the tent. You are both panting hot air into each other's mouths. Chris starts whimpering when you swivel your hips in small circles. You take his bottom lip between your teeth, “want it to last”

He slows his movements, pumping slow and deep into you as you grind down into him. “Yes y/n/n, whatever you want”

“You're so good to me baby, doing everything I say”, your legs start to quiver and your elbows fall on either side of his head. This pace is excruciatingly pleasurable and you feel your cunt clench around his full member.

“Make me cum sweet boy” you whisper shakily in his ear.

He wasted no time pumping fast into you, his hands flying down to your waste, slamming your hips down into every thrust up of his hips. Your hands grip onto his hair as your pussy clenched around him, your orgasm ripping through you in a string of loud moans.

He spurts hot cum into your pussy with a couple last hard thrusts, coating your walls and groaning deeply in your ear. The mix of your juices with his cum drip out of you coating his balls and your spent body drapes over him.

He stays inside you as you both come down from your highs.

“Loved every fucking second of that Chris” you whisper, lifting yourself to look him in the eyes.

“Yeah?” he asks softly, a sweet smile on his face.

“Yeah” you replied, elated.

“Me too y/n/n” he kisses your forehead and you smile, resting against his chest. You both drift off to sleep at a beach in Hawaii.

a/n: my first chris smut 😵‍💫 i’m feeling things !!!! hope u enjoyed<3

— LEV ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

[ussgallifrey]

(She Moves With) Shameless Wonder | 31

✦ Summary: Your badge clearly said SHIELD consultant, so you weren’t entirely sure where Fury was getting this whole make you an Avenger idea from. But you had a feeling it might have something to do with the recent discovery of an artifact at the bottom of the Arctic Sea.

✦ Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

✦ Warnings: Alcoholism, canon divergence, dialogue taken directly from Captain America: Civil War and the Marvel Civil War comic, drunk Tony Stark, language, mentions of dead bodies, political discourse, shady government dealings.

✦ Word Count: 8.2k

✦ Playlist: Here

✦ Cinematic Soundtrack: Here

✦ Author's Note: Whoop, sorry about the lapse in updates and activity. I'm in the full school-prepping swing over here right now and I've spent the last three weeks deep in curriculum and lesson planning for my kids. But with a little bit of inspiration I was able to finish this chapter tonight - it may or may not have been sitting in my drafts since early July...

[Master List]

There’s a certain strangeness that occurs when one finds themselves in the shell of a once lively location. A place that previously held signs of exuberant life - joyous laughter ringing through warm halls, the wafting aromas of food laid out on a table, the busyness that occurs when people are constantly on the move.

You know that sensation; that eerie skeleton.

You’ve found it many times before. In the ruins of the Parthenon after the Germans invaded and raised their flag aloft. In the silence of Apollo’s temple, when you stood under the painted dome, staring up at a golden sun without so much as a wisp of familiarity to remind you of his existence.

That same feeling of abandoned life exists today as you walk the silent halls of the Compound. It permeates the walls and corridors. Sinking into the void of weeping guilt.

A tomb would be louder.

The far-reaching depths of space would make more sound.

Maybe that’s why it’s so unbelievably jarring when you enter Tony’s lab and are bombarded by the glass-shaking noise of heavy eighties rock music.

Without even asking, FRIDAY drops the volume down to a far lower level than what the lone inhabitant would like. He peers up over the edge of the workbench, his peace disturbed, as his red-rimmed and wild eyes meet your gaze.

“Fuuck offh!” Tony slurs inelegantly, pointing a bottle of alcohol in your direction before he sinks back to the floor from which he had emerged.

As the door swooshes softly behind you, you glance around at the state of affairs.

This was the billionaire’s secondary lab, his fuck around and find out lair. The main building held his most important and expensive instruments. This one was more similar to a forty-year-old man’s garage; the one that got tinkered around in for a few hours every weekend.

Average well-loved namebrand tools lay scattered around, while one particular mallet hammer seemed to have suffered a near-catastrophic blow somewhere around a smashed exhaust pipe.

As you meander through the destruction, you find yourself sidestepping glass shards and bits of shattered metal. The wall, opposite of the billionaire, has clearly suffered the brunt of his anger. There are an array of singe marks and concaved sections where something was obviously repeatedly thrown at it.

You find the bludgeoned torch a few feet away from Tony’s feet.

This hadn’t exactly been your idea of a somber morning. You didn’t want to come here.

But you had received a warning from FRIDAY, who had gone ahead and tried to contact both Pepper and Rhodes. But Pepper was trying to stay ahead of the media frenzy and Rhodes was tied up with far more important matters. Neither of them would be able to reach the Compound until at least early evening. And things were too dire to leave this unattended.

So, as Tony was refusing to see Steve and Natasha had been barred entrance as well, it was up to you to deal with the incredibly inebriated billionaire.

He tilts his head back at a severe angle, nearly slipping past the lip of the workbench - which would immediately send him toppling to the floor - as he blearily blinks at your presence.

“Thought I told you to fuck off.”

The unpleasant reek of bile and whiskey seems to glide from his lips to your nose as you peer down at the man.

“I’m not the best at taking direction from others.”

He gives a surprisingly thoughtful nod as he blindly spreads his hand against the concrete floor in an attempt - you assume - to find another bottle.

With a cursory glance at the far wall, you find a rather inconspicuous cupboard-style toolbox that’s been opened. Inside sits four shelves with varying amounts and brands of alcoholic beverages while the empty slots seem to be scattered around Tony’s feet.

Crossing your arms, you raise a tired brow.

“I’ve seen you in many states, Anthony. I think this one might just take the cake.”

He scoffs, scrambling to his feet. He has to grip the table behind him to keep steady as his legs seem to be made of some kind of gelatinous mixture as they wobble troublingly beneath him.

“Save me the pep talk, Double O. I could really give less of a shit.”

Popping the cap off on the edge of the workbench, he slurps back a violent swig of whiskey. A wet sound audibly pops as he pulls the lip of the bottle from his mouth and a dribble of amber liquid pools in the corner of his lips.

“Charming.”

Tony lounges against the table, resting on his heels as he holds his arms out as if to say it is what it is, a sort of wild look in his eyes. From here, you can see the smudges of grease and ash that coat his cheeks and bare arms. Something worryingly yellow sticks to the distinguished tufts of his unkempt hair.

“That’s me, Mister… Ch-arming.”

As he hiccups and belchs around his own words, you cross the lab and easily snatch the bottle from his hand.

“Okay, that’s enough.”

“Fuck,” he groans, eyelids heavy as he blinks up at you. “You’re acting like Saint Rogers now.”

As you settle the billionaire with a look, he lazily salutes you, a drunken smirk befalling his spit-slick lips.

“God damn, Rogers. Captain Idiot, fucking… running into shit. Can’t stop running into shit. Do you think it’s genetic?” he staggers out in front of you, his body seemingly more like a ragdoll than normal as his arms sway on their own accord.

“I don’t know,” you respond cooly.

Tony huffs a breathy laugh as he sways, tripping over his own feet before colliding into the opposing wall. He slams a hand against it, looking up as if surprised to find himself face-to-face with the concrete.

“Romanoff’s no better. Dragging kids into shit they shouldn’t be shitting with,” he laughs, but it’s a bitter tone. “Then you got Rumlow martyring himself like… like… who’s a good martyr?”

You tilt your head to the right, eyes squinted slightly as you try to ascertain his state, “Agnes of Rome?”

He hums, considering it for all of a second before he blows a particularly wet raspberry, “Naaah. We’re talking like… Guevara or something.”

As your brow raises in deep questioning, Tony staggers past you, collapsing half-bent over one of the metal workbenches.

“Should tell him that,” he spits.

Moving closer, you ask, “Rumlow?”

“Ross! When that fucker - ” he spins around, grinning wide though his eyes are hardly amused, “- comes here tomorrow and tries to tie us up and drag us out into the mob that’ll be waiting at the gates.”

“There’s no one at the gates, Tony.”

He balks, “A fucking miracle then! Cause there will be,” he nods, vigorously. “They’ll be coming and they’re gonna do worse than rip my suit away.”

Stark clutches painfully at the arc reactor as he backs away. Holding it just as preciously as Gollum did with the one ring.

“You’ll see, they’re gonna, they’re gonna drag our little Sokovian mutants out by the hair and string them up and Steve will do something noble and stupid and end up on the news and a fucking sniper will take him out. That’s what’s gonna happen, you got it?”

He trips over an empty bottle and you finally swoop down to catch him.

It takes a bit of adjusting, but you manage to convince him to drape his right arm over your shoulders as you grip him around the waist to hold him up. His head hangs heavily into his sternum as you heft the scientist out of his lab.

“I think you’re wrong, Tony,” you admit as you wait for the elevator to chime its arrival.

He blows out a huff of air as his head falls back against his shoulders, his dark eyes barely able to focus on your face as he lashes back, “You don’t know American politics, do you, oh dear Goddess?”

You did, in fact. You knew them quite well.

But for the sake of keeping him from stumbling out of your arms and knocking his head into a wall, you remain silent.

As you deposit him into an elevated chair in his room, a trash can near his side with a glass of water within reach, he blinks owlishly up at you.

“We’re fucked. You get that right? This… whole thing… it’s screwed whatever chances we had at negotiating.”

He’s oddly sober in his words.

Offering him the hint of a smile, you lean down and smooth a hand over his stubbled cheek, forcing him to meet your eyes.

“Whatever happens, we’re going to figure it out together. Sober, preferably.”

Tony guffaws into a fit of chuckles as you back away. When you’re at the threshold of the door, you remind him that Rhodes will be by later and FRIDAY will be informing you if he tries to nab another bottle.

Tony gives you a half-hearted, “Yes, ma’am,” before you finally take your leave.

Steve hovers in the doorway, staring down at the blank-eyed girl on the bed.

At least her door was still unlocked. No one had been able to get through to Pietro’s yet, even Vision was oddly repulsed whenever he tried to enter the space. According to FRIDAY, the teen was still in his room and remained in decent health, unharmed. For now, that had to be enough.

You had sat outside his door for the better part of the night and well into the morning. Steve had remained beside you for a portion of it, across from you for the rest. 

When you had gotten the urgent call from FRIDAY, Steve had finally forced himself to stand up. Fighting the twinge of pain in his back from hours spent on a hard floor. When he scrounged up a cup of coffee for himself, he returned to the hall and found Pietro’s door still shut tight. Wanda’s, however…

Tear tracks brighten her cheeks as she hastily looks up, catching Steve’s eye, before she wipes her nose with the fabric of her long dark shirt.

“Hey,” he sighs as he forces his feet over the threshold, breaking that imaginary barrier at last.

She hums in return, her eyes wandering over to the TV.

“What authority does an enhanced undocumented immigrant have to operate in the United States, I ask you today, Hannah? That’s what the people of Manhattan want to know. Where do the Avengers get off inviting known criminals into - ”

Steve kills the segment before the political correspondent can finish his tirade.

The girl turns to look at him, eyes tear-rimmed, “It’s my fault, you know.”

“That’s not true,” he immediately rebuffs, moving across the room to sit beside her on the edge of the bed.

She huffs, “Turn the TV back on. They’re being very specific.”

“I should have clocked that bomb vest long before you had to deal with it,” the soldier defends.

Let him take that from her, let him bear the weight of terrible decisions. He can take it. 

Wanda glances away, staring at the blank screen.

“It’s my fault,” he states, taking it back from her once again. “Rumlow said Bucky and… suddenly I was a sixteen-year-old kid again, in Brooklyn. And… people died. It’s on me.”

She shakes her head softly, staring down at her dark-painted nails.

“It’s on all four of us.”

Swallowing the words back down, Steve clears his throat.

“This job… we try to save as many people as we can. Sometimes, that doesn’t mean everyone. That’s part of the reason we’ve kept the two of you from coming along. It’s the reason I should have sent you away yesterday.”

Staring up at him, as if searching his eyes for some hidden message, the teen says, “She’s right. You do do that a lot.”

When he makes a questioning tone in his throat, she looks away.

“Taking the brunt of everyone’s failures. Don’t take mine from me today, Steve.”

With a sigh, he leans forward, balancing a hand on his knee.

“Look… if we can’t find a way to live with ourselves after something like this… maybe next time? No one gets saved. We have to find a way to carry on and right now, your brother needs us probably more than ever.”

With a broken laugh, she wipes at her eyes, “I can try to break down his door if you want?”

The phantom sensation of a smile graces his lips as he shakes his head, “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

Steve later finds you in the communal kitchenette around the corner from Wanda’s room. It’s about the width of an alleyway, with bright floors and dark counters. There’s enough room for a row of cabinets and a fridge on one wall and a small coffee bar and table setup on the other.

You’ve got your hands lodged in your hair as you stare up at the wall-mounted TV. An unsipped cup of tea sits in front of you on the table. Your gaze is unblinking as you watch the continuous news feed.

“Senator William Sharpe was considered a pillar in the Democratic Party, Andrew. Just three days ago, he publicly blasted his fellow senators in an interview with reporters saying: to protect the principals for which America stands, we must allow the Avengers to act unimpeded by the government. To do otherwise, would put us all at a great disservice.”

“At this time, both Mayor Marino and Governor Lennox have asked for the flags to be flown at half-staff while responders are still on the scene, aiding in the recovery of bodies. We’ll be going to our man in the field, Nick Rubio in just a minute to see how the cleanup process is going down on Wall Street. And shortly after, we’ll tune in to the White House as President Ellis is set to address the nation.”

As the segment moves to a commercial break, you finally blink away from the TV and lock eyes with him - as if truly seeing the soldier for the first time.

Wordlessly, Steve pulls out the chair beside you. Taking a seat, he leans forward and gathers your left hand into his combined palms. Tilting his head down, he kisses the smooth skin of your thumb as he desperately tries to blink back a surprising surge of unshed tears.

“Oh,” you sigh, using your free hand to card your fingers through the turbulent locks of his blonde hair. “Don’t start on me again, Steve.”

He snorts, warm breath puffing against your hand as his stormy eyes meet your broken expression.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Just one of those kinds of days.”

“Yeah,” you nod, tilting your head forward - gently knocking your temple into his forehead as you both breathe in the mingling air of discomfort that permeates the space around you. “We’re really racking those up, aren’t we?”

He chuckles low in his throat, shaking his head as your fingers pull free from his scalp.

“It’d be really bad of me to offer a free trip to a God Realm right now, wouldn’t it?” your smile is crooked, but your eyes are deeply somber.

“Any other day,” he sighs, squeezing your captured hand, “I might have taken you up on that offer.”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” you snort, ducking your head down.

“Tell me about them?”

Your face slowly peeks up from the hood of your hair, a curious lift to your eyebrows.

“What? The god realms?”

“Anything,” he admits. “So long as it gets you to stop watching that all day.”

As your gaze briefly moves toward the TV, you reach for the remote and gratefully mute the volume.

“Okay, any place in particular?”

Steve can feel the nudge of your foot as you lean back in your seat, facing him as you lounge out - your hand never leaving his.

“Where did you say your pal Thoth lived again?”

A true smile begins to break across your face and Steve can actually feel the unsettled feeling in his chest lift away for the first time in twenty-four hours.

“The Celestial Helipolis,” you enunciate with a slight gnash of your teeth.

As you proceed to describe the alien-like location, Steve finds himself leaning further onto his elbow - keeping your left and right hands intertwined on the table, blinking slowly, and his smile creeping higher. 

It takes two days for Tony to properly sober up. And at the end of those two days, he does something incredibly stupid.

Worst of all, it’s captured on live TV.

With a hand latched over your face, your fingers spread just enough so you can watch the news feed, you stare in horror as the news anchor repeats the footage for a fifth time - with the audio now on for any listeners just tuning in.

“Ma’am, please. We’re going to have to ask you to leave,” says the burly SHIELD agent flanking Tony.

The woman, Miriam Sharpe - the widow of Senator Sharpe and the mother of Adam, one of the children who burned to death in the International School just a few yards away from his father - stares up indignantly.

The cameraman zooms in on the grieving woman’s face as tears spring from her eyes. Leave it to the Bugle to get something so painstakingly personal on file.

“Leave what? My own family’s funeral? Stark’s the one you should be dragging away!”

Tony, ever the foot-in-mouth artist, presses forward, “Ma’am, I understand that you’re upset - that you’re grieving an unbelievable loss. But the Maximoff’s recklessness had nothing to do with me.”

She turns on him, voice chillingly cold as the cameraman moves in even closer to capture the crystal clear audio.

“Oh, yeah? And who finances the Avengers, Mr. Stark? Who’s been telling kids for the past decade that they can live outside the law so long as they wear a fancy suit of armor or colorful tights?”

As you finally turn away from the video - it cuts back to two anchors who continue to play it in the upper right-hand corner of the screen - you find your gaze sitting on the shrunken billionaire at the end of the table.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Natasha demands.

He splutters, “Fuck, I don’t know, Romanoff. I thought comforting a grieving woman and offering her a large sum of sorry we destroyed your family money from the Stark Foundation might help soften the blow of you idiots sweetly and decadently fucking up!”

From across the table, you watch as Steve’s knuckles flex so tightly that the skin becomes worryingly white.

“I don’t know, Stark,” she bites back. “A letter, or a private call - not fucking wandering your still drunk ass to a double funeral.”

“It was quiet,” he sighs, “until the cameras showed up. Like she got her second wind or something.”

“At her husband and child’s funeral, imagine that,” Clint remarks with a shocking sharpness.

Holding his hands up in exasperation, he exclaims, “I fucked up! Alright? That’s what you want to hear? I biffed it, royally. I made an ass of myself and came out looking like a monster.”

“And you successfully ruined whatever positive image we once had,” you add, voice light as your glare seers across the table to meet Tony’s eyes.

“It’s worse than that.”

All eyes turn to see Rhodes as he moves into the room, dressed in his regulation navy service dress clothes. Beside him, co-Director Hill stands.

Tony grumbles something that sounds like fucking wonderful under his breath.

“What do you mean?” Natasha asks, arms crossed as she faces down the two.

“Well, thanks to Wall Street and with a little help from Tony making a general ass of himself in front of a grieving widow and mother - ” Tony rolls his eyes, “ - you’ve got the UN in an emergency special session.”

“What?” Steve calls, turning in his seat.

“Yeah, surprisingly, they take offense when their children are killed and their general consulates are destroyed,” Hill barks, with her arms folded and her stare capable of killing.

“What does that mean exactly?” Clint questions, glancing between them, Steve, Tony, and you.

“That you’ve managed to piss off just about every government official you can think of. Surprised Ross isn’t here to drag you to prison as we speak.”

Tony glances at you, his eyes seeming to say see, what did I tell you?

On the TV, the anchor cuts off a seventh viewing of the funeral scene, with breaking news.

“We go live to the floor of the UN General Assembly where the Sokovian representative, Andrej Bezák has asked for the Secretary-General to convene this eleventh emergency special session.”

“Fuck,” Clint groans, hands balled up on the back of his head as he leans back in his chair.

It’s two hours of sitting, glued to your seats, as you watch the news switch between the debate in the UN and the anchors. At one point, they break away to announce another breaking story.

“Congressman DeRusso has asked the Senate Majority Leader to proceed through with the vote this evening. The Senators will be voting on the passage of the SRA, which has been a hotly contested piece of legislation in the past week. But with the events of New York that have left the nation reeling, one has to wonder how our representatives will come together. Is this the issue that will unite a nation?”

“We’ll be live tonight, on the Senate floor, livestreaming the vote as it takes place. So, make sure to tune in at nine to catch this moment-defining vote.”

As the news switches back to coverage of the UN, Steve begins to shake his head.

The majority of the time had been spent in near-silence. Too stunned, too ashamed to contest the facts and videos that were being thrown back in your faces.

As one analyst comes on, covering up the audio from the special session, you watch as Steve’s fist tightens once again.

“A ban on superheroes? Well, Adam, in a world with an insurmountable number of violent criminals and alien forces yet to be known, that’s obviously impossible. But, properly training them and making them carry badges? Then yeah, I’d say that sounds like a reasonable response.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Rhodes announces.

The colonel had taken watch behind Tony’s chair - his hands tightening on the back of the seat every so often.

Steve glances over at the man, brow raised and voice tight, “If we hand over control to the government, then we’re losing our ability to work as any kind of protective force.”

Rhodes turns on the supersoldier.

“117 countries, Steve. That’s how many representatives you have sitting in the room right now. How often do you get the UN to come together over international security? Yeah, so you know this shit is serious. We’re at that point now; the line’s been crossed. We need someone to keep us in check.”

From beside you, Sam shakes his head - looking up at the colonel.

“I can’t believe I’m seriously hearing this right now. You just want us to roll over and let the government turn us into some kind of supercops?”

“Are you kidding?” Rhodes questions, “We’re lucky people have tolerated this for as long as they have, Sam.”

Steve’s eyes meet yours, a troubling darkness rests in his usually cool irises.

“Man, how long are you going to play both sides?”

Before Rhodes can respond, Vision interrupts from the couch on which he’s been sitting for the entire session.

“I have an equation.”

“Oh, this should clear it up,” Sam mumbles.

Vision blinks at him once before continuing his line of thought.

“In the eight years since Mr. Stark announced himself as Iron Man the number of known enhanced persons has grown exponentially. And, during the same period, the number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate.”

“Are you saying this is our fault?” Steve questions.

“I’m saying there may be a causality. The team’s very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict… breeds catastrophe. Oversight. Oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand.”

You glance back at the supersoldier. He looks away.

Natasha clears her throat, “Tony… you’re being uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal.”

“Boy, you know me so well,” he grunts, shifting up from his seat. “Fact is… we need to do it - sign on to the Act. We need to regain control before there’s a witch hunt at our door and we’re dragged through the streets - tearing your bow from your hands, Barton, and Cap's shield, and my suit from my body.”

Shaking his head, he leans back against the kitchen island, “I’ve been there before. It ain’t happening again.”

Maria nods from the head of the table, “There’s really no decision-making process right now. If you sign on, you remain in control of yourselves. If you don’t… the consequences will be unthinkable. Especially, if the UN adds on and makes their own resolution. You have enough to worry about if the SRA goes into effect.”

Tony nods, pointing at Hill, “Yeah, basically if we don’t accept limitations, if we remain boundary-less, we’re no better than the bad guys.”

The man across from you raps his knuckles on the table two times before he finally speaks up.

“Tony, if someone dies on your watch you don’t give up.”

“Who said we’re giving up?”

“We are if we’re not taking responsibility for our actions. The SRA is just going to shift the blame.”

Rhodes looks wide-eyed as he stares down at the supersoldier.

“I’m sorry, Steve. But that is dangerously arrogant. This is the United Nations we’re talking about. It’s not the World Security Council, it’s not SHIELD, it’s not HYDRA - ”

“No,” he cuts off the colonel, voice rising. “But it’s run by people with agendas, and agendas change.”

“That’s good,” Tony announces as he rounds on the table. “That’s why I’m here. When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stopped manufacturing.”

You can see the physical tension building up on Steve’s brow as he rubs his hand across his temple. He’s trying to keep his anger in check, but it’s growing. Soon, it will bubble over. You try to meet his eyes, but his attention is entirely fixed on the billionaire now.

“Tony, you chose to do that. If we agree to this, we surrender our right to choose. Wanda can’t just hang up her powers like you can your suit. We’re stuck the way we are. I can’t surrender the serum any more than you can the reactor. And as long as I have it, I’m going to use it for what I was meant to do.”

Clint sniffs from the end of the table, pulling the attention away from the two men.

“I mean, just spitballing here, but… what if these guys try to send us somewhere we shouldn’t go? Or, other hand, what if there’s somewhere we should go and suddenly they don’t let us?”

“Terms can always be negotiated,” Maria attempts to amend.

Steve sits upright in his seat, voice steady as he says, “We may not be perfect, but I still believe that the safest hands are our own.”

Tony sighs, severity in his tone “If we don’t do this now, it’s going to be done to us later. That’s a fact. It won’t be pretty.”

“You’re saying they’ll come for me.”

Whipping around in your seat, your eyes land on Wanda. How long she had been standing in the doorway, you’re unsure. But your heart aches as she glides into the room, rigid in her posture - as if already trying to shield herself from the team.

“We would protect you,” Vision answers, floating through the couch before landing in front of her.

“They have a point.”

As your gaze shifts from the teen, your eyes move toward Natasha. The Widow looks apprehensive as she shakes her head - refusing to meet Clint’s questioning stare.

“If we have one hand on the wheel, we can still steer. If we take it off - ”

“Aren’t you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?” Sam questions, voice incredulous.

“I’m just… reading the terrain,” her gaze fixes on yours for a moment before shifting over to Steve. “We have made some very public mistakes. We need to win their trust back.”

“Focus up,” Tony interrupts, leaning his hands on the table as he stares down at the redhead. “I’m sorry, did I just go temporarily deaf or did you actually agree with me?”

“Oh, I want to take it back now.”

“No, no you can’t retract it.”

Too lost in the conversation now taking place at the end of the table, you miss the moment when it all bubbles to the surface. Steve’s chair screeches against the floor as he stands up.

“You’re really considering this?” he questions, looking between Tony and Natasha.

“Considerng? No, Cap. You’re mishearing me. The consideration period is gone. This is happening.”

“Tony - ”

“Steve,” Hill sighs, pushing up from her own chair. “It’s going to pass through. The question now is, what side are you going to be standing on when it does?”

The bristles of his anger surge down his tense shoulders into the quiver of his fists. He meets your eye before landing on anyone else in the room.

You find yourself tilting your head slightly as you stare up at the supersoldier. Surely, he understood the cards that were being stacked against the team. Surely, he must know the best path forward if anyone here wished to operate in any official capacity ever again as designated superheroes. Surely…

Steve huffs a breathless sound before he stalks out of the room.

Surprisingly, it’s you that everyone seems to turn toward in the silent aftermath.

“You, uh, going after your pal there or…?” Clint questions, pointing a finger between yourself and the doorway through which Steve had just left.

Rooted to the spot, the news playing in the corner - they had just uncovered five more bodies from one of the restrooms at the school, Wanda sitting silently on the couch beside Vision, Natasha’s gaze flitting between Rhodes and Hill and -

You shake your head, gaze also locking on Tony.

Sam snorts, “Unbelievable,” before he too is up and out of his chair, striding out of the room after the supersoldier.

Feeling the daze of indecision wiping itself clean from your mind, you shakily stand up, pushing away from the table, as you turn toward the hall leading down to your room.

“So, we just calling it quits now, or…?” Tony calls out from behind you.

But you just ignore his questioning tone as you head for the stairs. Maybe now was the time to snap Pietro out of his solemn mood.

“I thought I told you to dress the part.”

Steve cranes his head back slightly as the woman in question brushes up against him. Shaking his head, his sunglasses dipped down on the slope of his nose as he browses the opposite shelf, he retorts:

“This is how I dress.”

“Exactly,” Sharon sighs, moving a few feet down the carpeted aisle.

The meet-up had been his request. The location was entirely her idea. Some off-the-beaten-path bookshop in Washington Heights, where the shelves were overstuffed and haphazardous piles of literature reached up to the ceiling. The floor was a strange lime green, the fabric slightly sticky against the soles of his shoes whenever he walked.

He’s in the self-help section; a little too on the nose for even him to even pretend to look at right now.

“You worked with spies for how many years and still you can’t get a decent incognito look down to save your life. Pathetic, Rogers.”

“Hey,” he growls, spinning on his toe to capture her arms in his hands.

Her brow lifts in return as she shrugs out of his hold. Moving to stand next to him, glancing down at the shelf with healthy living titles, Sharon lets the silence permeate just a few moments too long.

Steve shoves his hands in his jacket pockets, not-so-casually glancing around at the rest of the shop.

They’re relatively hidden back here in the corner. His hearing tells him that the young cashier up front is on her phone, volume high enough for him to make out the make-up routine video she’s currently watching. No, back here they’re not going to be disturbed and he didn’t spy any cameras on the way down this aisle, so why the hell is Carter still acting the part?

“You make a move on your girl yet?”

He splutters.

It shouldn’t… he shouldn’t…

Okay, admittedly, he’s a little broken about this morning. You had just sat there during the entire thing, not saying a single word. His mind had been fucking reeling at the time and there you were just… blank, disengaged. And when he had heard someone heading down the hall, he had been expecting it to be you - about to tell him how you told Hill and Tony off in his stead.

But it was Sam currently scoping out the bookshop from across the street. Not you.

Steve clears his throat, “How’s the new job?”

He can almost hear the audible raise of her brow, but she hides it with a chuckle, “Work is fine. But I’m guessing that’s not why you wanted to talk to me.”

Rising to her feet, she draws him in with a crook of her finger.

“I don’t think you understand the extent of what you’re dealing with here, Rogers.”

Tilting his head to the side, he follows her further down the aisle until they’re jutted up in the corner of the poetry and biography section.

“I’ve got ears, you know. Feelers, if you will,” she begins, causally opening a book from the pile next to her left hip. Flipping unseeingly through the pages, Sharon continues, “The SRA isn’t just going to enact some kind of oversight committee for you guys and call it a day. It’s kind of in the name, yeah? They want to register you all to a database - anyone claiming the title superhero - ” she exaggerates this point by moving her fingers in pseudo quotation marks.

“Yeah, I got that much already,” he nods.

“Well,” she breathes out, tossing the book down onto the pile.

Steve straightens it out neatly, the way it had been resting before they ever walked into the shop.

Sharon blinks.

“Well, after that point you would be assigned to work alongside the general government entities, like SHIELD. I mean, you got Hill in a temporary position of power but they’re looking to place someone into the proverbial Director’s seat.”

“And she’s not it?” he questions, glancing down at her warm eyes.

With a teasing smile, she shakes her head, “Not likable enough, apparently.”

Steve lets out a short chuckle. Yeah, he could definitely understand that.

“So… please tell me you’ve at least read through it. I know Ross was up your way a week ago or so.”

The supersoldier shrugs, “Most of it.”

She huffs a questioning tone, “Skimmed it then?”

“Basically.”

“I bet Stark read the whole thing.”

He nods, knowing it was very likely.

“Well, if you had bothered you might have come across a few interesting clauses, such as…” she tugs on the fabric of his shirt, moving him even impossibly closer toward her, “That little itty bitty clause about mandatory tracking devices. Or, if you happen to be a star-spangled man with a distrust of authority and choose to not follow their lovely guidelines, you could find yourself being arrested and imprisoned without the chance of a trial.”

Pulling back, he searches her gaze.

“That can’t be…”

“Legal? Oh, Rogers. I assure you, it very much is. And when that emergency motion passes in the UN, and it will pass, the US isn’t going to be the only country with such laws. Pretty much every country on earth has mutual extradition laws in place. If they find you, you’re gonna get hauled back here.”

Taking a step back, Steve begins to pace between the two shelves - not much room to do so, admittedly - but he has to move.

“Hill and Ross were going on about this plan and negotiating terms, but that was never their M.O. was it?”

“Fuck no it wasn’t,” she beams, leaning back against one of the bookshelves, her eyes following his frantic steps. “I’m not sure if you girl told you - ”

Steve pauses midstep, looking back at her.

“ - but Banner was never really enough for Ross. Not after Iron Man came on the scene and dazzled the citizens. That man would love to lock up every enhanced individual he could get his hands on. Think Nixon and the war on drugs campaign. Whoever he can get. Anywhere.”

The air in the bookshop becomes impossibly restrictive in the span of a second as Steve gapes, mind zooming in to one singular thought.

Bucky.

Running a hand down his face, the supersoldier’s shoulder sag as he leans his weight against the shelf opposite Sharon. She tilts her head to the side, trying to piece apart his inner turmoil for herself before he offers up his actual train of thought to her.

At least at the Compound, the team would be safe if they stuck together. But Bucky was out there, somewhere, on his own.

“Ever since D.C., I’ve been trying to track him down, you know. Two years, not a trace. At least when this goes through, I can just worry about everyone here. If I haven’t found him with all of Tony’s tech, then Ross sure as hell hasn’t either.”

At least that was a thought that could ease his current troubles. He would need to find an escape plan for Wanda and Pietro, maybe with your help. Because there was no way he was going to let someone like Ross get to the twins. They were foreigners with never-before-seen powers and they were underage. They were the perfect people for the Secretary to zoom in on.

“Steve.”

He glances up, catching the absolutely devastating look in her eyes as she pushes off from the bookshelf to move across to him.

“I’m so sorry.”

Scrutinizing her gaze, he questions, “What is it?”

“They… they found Barnes. Two months ago.”

There’s a tightening sensation around his chest that has Steve pulling away from Sharon, stumbling into the main alley of the store. His vision glazes over for just a second before a hand is clenching over his wrist - tugging him back to their hidden corner of the shop.

“Hey, snap out of it. I get it,” she sighs, squeezing both of his shoulders in her hands - trying to get him to come back to Earth. And god does it take a second, but that wide-eyed look in his eyes finally settles on her face. “You’ve been unsuccessful and they haven’t.”

“So… they know where he is. What now?”

Taking a step backward, her hands falling back to her side, she replies, “They are literally just waiting for the SRA to pass so they can detain him legally.”

“Jesus,” he snaps, volume too loud - he knows it - but he can’t stop it. It’s all too fucking much.

She tries to shush him, finger to her lips and everything, but he just runs his hand through his hair - tugging on the blonde strands to the point of pain.

“Why the hell are you even bothering to tell me any of this anyway? Huh?” he questions, pacing once again.

God, he couldn’t trust Hill or Rhodey or even Tony. God only knows who else was on board with this legislation.

“Well, Steve,” Sharon stretches the letters in his name out as she crosses her arms before leaning against one of the shelves. “Frankly I find Ross to be an asshole and after the shit that went down with SHIELD and Insight, I’m sort of over the idea of the government jumping in to pick off random people as they please.”

He can almost feel that choking sensation ease as he fixes her with a somber expression, “Sorry.”

She waves her hand in dismissal.

“I’m telling you this because I know you’ll do something about it,” she admits. “I don’t exactly know what their plan is for him, I’m just sort of assuming the worst-case scenarios right now. And… I think we can agree that the guy has been through enough.”

With a small nod, Steve stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans and asks, “Do you know where he - ”

“Rogers,” she sighs. “I wish I knew where he was. Hell, even if I did it would put me at risk for losing my job, and not to mention it would be considered a breach of national security…”

He understands, of course. It would be impossible for her to know that sort of intel when it was clearly being kept heavily under wraps. Lord even knows where she managed to learn any of this from.

A stroke of soft chuckles brings him back to her strange expression as she plucks a book out from the biography section. It’s a recent edition, with barely a scratch on the binding. Holding up the cover for him to see, Steve rolls his eyes.

Peggy Carter: In Her Own Words

“You know… even for all the shit she might have done back then, I sometimes still miss her.”

Steve glances away as Sharon begins to flip through the pages of the book.

“She was still family, even after everything,” he says softly.

Humming in return, the sound of moving pages halts.

“You know…” she laughs, shaking her head as her finger skims over the paragraphs of text, “She had a knack for imparted bits of wisdom every now and then. God, she wasn’t even American, but yet…”

“This nation was founded on one principle above all else,” Sharon glances up at him, a playful look in her eyes as she reads the quote, “the requirement that we stand up for what we believe in, no matter the odds or the consequences.”

Steve can almost picture the woman, hair tied back, straight-smart outfit, speaking in front of a group of reporters and journalists. Her accent scathing and beautiful as she commands their attention.

“When the mob and the press and the whole world tell you to move, your job is to plant yourself like a tree beside the river of truth, and tell the whole world: No, you move! Director Carter, Congress, 1978. God, I don’t even know what this could have been about. It’s not like Reagan was elected yet.”

With a shrug, Sharon snaps the book closed and tosses it at Steve. He scrambles to catch it, giving her a strange look as she nods at him.

“Go on, buy it. It’s only a buck fifty, that’s practically a bargain these days.”

Steve stares down at the black-and-white image of Peggy, leaning against a desk, looking content in her position as Director. He sets it down on one of the stacks next to the biography section.

Sharon immediately snatches it back up, pushing it in his direction as she bites, “Take the book.”

Something about her shift in tone makes Steve take hold of the item, flipping it casually in his hand as if trying to decode a secret message.

Giving him a nod, as if pleased by his choice, Sharon takes off her jacket - turning it inside out, before bending down to roll down a skirt that was apparently rucked up around her waist - it goes all the way down to the floor. This is followed by her pulling a wig from her jacket, a curly brown thing, that she easily situates on her head.

“It was nice seeing you again,” she smiles a look that barely curls up at the corners of her lips.

“You too,” he says, a little too stunned by her entire wardrobe change to really comprehend that this is goodbye.

Giving the supersoldier a nod, she places a pair of sunglasses on her face 

“And, hey… good luck.”

“Thanks.”

With a final look, the CIA operative turns and sneaks through the Employees Only door.

Glancing down at the book in his hand, Steve carefully flips through the pages - stopping only when a scrap of paper tumbles away from the seam. It only takes one look, but by then he’s already got it shoved back into place - wedged against the inner seam.

“Find everything okay?” the young woman asks when he makes it to the register.

Feeling more on edge than before, he hums in reply, glancing out at the passersby on the street.

Catching on to the fact that he wasn’t in much of a talking mood at the moment, she easily checks him out and offers to bag up the item for him, but he says it’s fine and snags the book and receipt before she can even say “Come again,” to him.

Striding across the street, barely even looking to see if there’s any incoming traffic, Sam launches up from the patio chair he had been occupying for the past thirty minutes.

“What’d she say?”

His grip on the book tightens as he glances around at the sidewalk. There’s a woman walking her dog down the way, but they’re otherwise alone and out of earshot of anyone nearby.

“Worse than we thought.”

Sam nods, using his index finger to push his sunglasses up higher on his face, “So, what does that mean for us exactly?”

“They’re going after enhanced individuals and anyone out there like us,” he murmurs. Holding up the book, he begins to flip through the pages, “They found him, Sam.”

Even from behind the dark lenses, he knows that the other man’s eyes are wide. They had been searching for two years now, Sam more often than even Steve because he was always being pulled to help out on official missions.

“You’re kidding me.”

Shaking his head, his fingers continue turning each page over at a time, “I wish I was. Ross is going after him.”

“Course he is,” Sam balks, crossing his arms. “And I bet we got nothing from Ms. Carter over there.”

Pulling the scrap of paper free, he twists it between his index and middle fingers for Sam to see.

“No… we got it.”

A smile cracks his features as he looks around at their surroundings, “Man, I shouldn’t be impressed, but I am.”

Steve gives a nod in return as he folds the paper and quickly stuffs it into his pocket - right next to the cool weight of the compass.

“So…” Sam breathes out, “How easily are we gonna be able to operate under the radar with this one?”

Letting out an uneasy breath, Steve thinks about the team - back at the Compound, likely debating their next move in the signing process. His mind flashes to the image of you, but he quickly pushes it away before it can linger too long.

“I think… this is going to be the last mission for us before they sign things over. And, if we’re going to do this, we’re going to need another hand if we want this to work out.”

The other man nods, mood somber as he takes in the unspoken consequences. The SRA was set to pass the Senate tonight, the House within the week. God only knows how long it would take for the UN to reach a concise conclusion. No, they had to get to Bucky first.

As they head down the street, his mind drifts back to his previous line of thought.

If he and Sam went to deal with this and things turned south - either on their end or over here, in the States - then at least he knows you would be able to handle it. If Ross, or anyone else, tried to come after the teens in their care, you would protect them.

“We’re sure, right?” Sam questions as they come to a stop at the crosswalk.

Sparring him a look, Steve lifts his brow.

“I mean… the dude kind of tried to kill us before and all,” at the supersoldier’s annoyed grimace, Sam laughs. “I’m… I’m just saying, man. The people who usually shoot at you, are also trying to shoot at me.”

“You don’t have to do this,” he states as the light switches.

“Nah, you see, that’s the problem. I do. Cause god only knows what kind of nonsense you would wind up in if I wasn’t there to watch your six.”

Feeling a smile stretching across his face, Steve smacks the other man’s shoulder with the palm of his hand.

“You’re a good man, Sam.”

“I gotta be,” he grins, “If I wanna keep up with you.”

The two of them disappear into the crowd of people exiting the subway before the CCTV cameras across the street can get a good look at either one of them.

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

[iwriteasfotini]

September Full Moony Excerpt

I am so excited to share this story with everyone. Waiting is SO hard. In celebration of the full moon tonight, here is a subtextual Wolfstar moment from The Bonds of Friendship, Chapter II - A Trip to Diagon Alley. Read it and then tell me you couldn't picture it perfectly in your imagination. :-P

James and Sirius have spent the summer together and are in Diagon Alley doing their school shopping. 

[James and Sirius] ordered the ‘giant’ sized bowls, which allowed them to choose five different flavors of ice cream and three toppings apiece. Sitting under a colorful umbrella outside the shop, they watched the bustle of shoppers, and searched for their other two best friends. 

James spotted Peter first, accompanied by his mum. 

“Pete!” James called, waving energetically. Peter beamed and hurried over. James wrapped him in a hug and Sirius also stood to hug Peter across the bench seat. 

“Blimey, those are the biggest bowls I’ve ever seen,” said Peter, eyeing their ice creams, which were about halfway finished. 

“Here, sit down, and you can have some of mine,” James offered.

Peter looked to his mum for permission, and she said, “oh go on Peety, I’ll go shop for you. Just stay in this general area.”

The three boys smiled widely at her and Peter took a seat, digging into James’ ice cream with gusto. 

“Why did you have to get chopped nuts?” asked Peter, chewing thoughtfully. 

“Because I like chopped nuts, and I wasn’t choosing with you in mind.” 

Peter shrugged, and picked around the remaining nut pieces. 

It wasn’t long before a head of tousled light brown hair caught James’ eye, and his eyebrows shot up as Remus and his mother came fully into view. Remus had grown. A lot. He had already been as tall as his mother last term, and now he was half a head above her. 

Sirius nearly upset their table in his haste to rush out onto the cobbled street, shouting, “Remus!”

“Where’s the fire,” scoffed Peter. 

But James was right behind Sirius, and he wrapped his arms around both Sirius and Remus in a tight embrace. 

When they broke apart, Remus’ mum looked quite pleased. 

“Mam,” said Remus, “this is James, and Sirius.” Pointing at each of them. 

“Peter’s over there as well,” James said, Peter gave a wave when all heads turned in his direction. 

“Alright. It’s so nice to finally meet you all, Remus talks about you so much at home. I am grateful he has such good friends at Hogwarts.” Remus’ mother smiled kindly at them. 

“Oh and this is my mam, Hope,” Remus said quickly. 

“Nice to meet you Hope,” Sirius stepped forward and kissed her on the cheek. James and Remus exchanged an amused glance. 

“Oh, there’s lovely Sirius.” Hope was blushing and seemed rather taken aback. 

“Is that a pureblood thing?” Remus asked bluntly. “Or are you desperate to get in my mam’s good graces?” 

James reached over and smacked Remus on the back of the head. It was actually over and up, because yes, Remus actually was that much taller than him now. Remus retaliated in kind, while Sirius looked a bit sheepish, and Hope suddenly had to dig something out of her handbag. 

“Look,” said James, breaking the awkwardness, “we were just finishing up some ice cream, care to join us Remus?”

“Er, I need to shop with my mam, she’s not used to wizard money and shops.”

“Of course.” James internally chastised himself for forgetting Mrs Lupin, Hope, was a muggle. 

“Meet us when you are done?” suggested Sirius. 

“Tidy.”

“We might poke around the shops, but we won’t go far,” James said. 

Remus and his mother left to shop, while James and Sirius returned to their table to find Peter had finished off both of their ice cream bowls. 

“Hey! I didn’t offer you any of mine,” Sirius objected. 

“Whoops, sorry,” said Peter. “We can go to Sweet Fangs, I’ll buy.”

So they headed off to the sweet shop across the way. 

…

Find out more about this series in my pinned post.

Ahhh, the anticipation is killing me! It’s like waiting for Christmas Eve, my favorite day of the year. I post a writing update every week. This excerpt is from the third installment titled The Bonds of Friendship which will begin daily posting on AO3 on February 14.

[sordidmusings]

Update! (Again lol): plans, loss, and music

Howdy doody! I’ll get to the fic stuff lickety split cuz I imagine that’s the most pertinent for most. Next TLC soon to be posted and the part after that under way again! Just have to finish up checking up the next section as it was done before but was one of the fics claimed by one of my cringy “want to delete my existence” moods 💀🤡 that’s where my ao3 and masterlist went too so whoops lol did save my stuff from getting posted under someone else’s name once so sometimes that cringe instinct works out for the better 👌🏻 still trying to kick the habit tho 💀 but yeah just gotta clean it over and get it back up again! Thank you for your patience 🤍

Comfort fic with Croc is well underway! Sorry that that’s taking longer than expected and an even bigger sorry to the request for Croc and reader team bonding smut cuz that boys been taking ten million years. Both of you, I appreciate your patience too and hope to make it worth the wait!!

X Marine reader headcanons almost done in their first part! Doing the first installment as general headcanons/vibe and the backstory for them, the second being a detailed how they met, and the third being a big event for the relationship like a confession or one saving the other or coming to terms with the relationship being doomed etc etc. it kinda spiraled out of control on ideas as I have a tendency to do sorry 😅

Besides a Law fic, those are the priorities right now tho there’s also kinktober to discuss. I’ve always always wanted to do kinktober but I’m still not good enough. I’ve been trying to do some prep for it and think I may be able to get many headcanons out for the month on it but again I’m not at a quality or in life circumstances where I can make it happen with actual fic this year.

And with life circumstances, yeah there’s business with jobs and obligations and taking care of people and trying to take care of myself, but my great struggle for the past stretch of weeks and onwards is the death of my mentor, friend, and father figure who was my piano teacher. He was older but it was very sudden and we’ve all been scrambling to contend with the loss of him and try to keep all the programs he was running afloat and keep his memory and influence alive. His reach in the music community and the genuine depth with which he connected to others is now a huge wound for many of us. He was a person of exceptional quality and heart. There’s a memorial concert for him mid October that I’m one of the performers in and I’m glad it’s forcing me to practice because piano has been really hurting. Everything has been. I was already struggling to keep on top of things and in the face of this I really am floundering pretty bad, despite trying to take care of it myself cuz I know I was already asking much of others having to listen to me sometimes and most people go mute in the face of death and I don’t want that to be my experience with others right now.

So to share something more positive in this experience, here is a snippet of the piece I’m polishing back up for the memorial concert.

You’ll hear me mention briefly in the middle a “church bells section”. I was talking with @gingernut1314 about this piece while showing her some other stuff and so I gave context about why I chose it for his memorial. For ease imma just pop in a copy of that lol

{This is from the piece that I’m polishing back up for Ian’s memorial concert! It’s the second movement of Debussy’s Images for Piano. I finished learning all three with Ian. The first is likely my favorite, the third is a MONSTER (but that atm just kinda makes me want to get that back up again too to Conquer it lol), but the second one has the right mood for a memorial and is the one I spent the most time working on with him for expression (took forever to get it right and some of it was still only like just almost there when my recital came around 🤡) and it was the one I think he was happiest with how I played in the end. The final bit of the movement is just breathtaking and peaceful tho it does end sad. Ian talked about his time studying in Europe and visiting France and church bells echo on the mountainside there and that that’s the type of imagery to evoke there. He was a devout man himself and I thought that that being the end to something I play for his memory would make him happy.}

Thank again sweet pea for your time listening to me play and talk about classical piano and such in general!!! I appreciate you 🧡🧡🧡 and thank you to any of you who give this vid a listen and have this post a read. I hope to bring actual substance and treats to you all soon!!! I working on it I swear 💀💀💀

On a final note that sums basically all this shit up, that mentioned Law fic is something I’ve been mucking through to process some by engaging with a death that isn’t related to me. So! It is a fic where reader helps Law finally open up all the festering feelings and thoughts he wouldn’t let himself express around Cora’s death. I’ll give a more proper shout out there, but thank you to the people who have shown me kindness and understanding and friendship in the past couple months. You all know who you are (hopefully haha) - I try to impress these things directly to you as well but it felt right to say it here as well. Interacting with you all has impacted me positivity and you all make the world a more welcoming and loving place 🤍🤍🤍

I’d also like to extend a thank you to anyone interacting with any of my posts! I often feel invisible and unworthy so acknowledgements even small and passing are a nice !!!! to my brain and I appreciate it❣️

Talk to yall soon!

Oh and as a stupid ps cuz I forget things and have nowhere else to put this random thought - expect some One Piece crochet content sometime dhdjfhkdnd I’m finally almost fuckin done with a damn Bepo design that’s been fighting me forever 😤😤😤 same with a Cora swan lol might sneak some regular crochet and more piano in there too for shits and giggles but we’ll see - anyone else get The Guilt when you post things that don’t feel like the thing you promised or should ehcjfjldmccl cuz this bitch do and it keeps me from doing like anything cuz I’ve got a clinical case of the Brain Sillies 🤷🏼‍♀️ anyway - smooches!!!!

Oh and if you’re afraid to comment or like cuz the death topic - I won’t think anyone is being an ass for not mentioning it lol I brought it up for context and because he is so important to me not because I expect people on a post to do something about it. So as with all my content, no worries!! This is a Chill Zone that just so happens to have sad hours semi regularly but we vibe lol

[patolemus]

First Line Game

I got tagged by the lovely @hedwig221b and @salty-fryingpan AGES ago (I'm so sorry I'm so bad at answering these things and then they pile up and it gives me anxiety :/) and I'm finally doing it because it looks SO FUN!! I'll warn you though, that even though I've been posting a lot about sterek lately, most of these are actually ereri fics because I haven't gotten around to finishing most of my sterek wips. whoops.

to be a hand (2k)

See, the thing about Stiles is that people underestimate him. 

2. when life gives you lemons, make a deal with the devil (2k)

Stiles is a demon.

3. red hoodies and bronze daggers (the secrets you keep glow in the dark) (20k)

For a human, Stiles has never been as scared of the unknown as he should be.

4. matters of the heart (2k)

Roy is exhausted.

5. the time spent (51k)

Ed wakes up in a puddle of his own blood.

6. i still remember (when your eyes weren't so cold) (297)

“Why are you doing this?”

7. to you, 2000 years from now (2k)

It’s Sunday morning, and Levi wakes up wrapped in Eren’s arms.

8. of a boy who wanted freedom (17k)

The war is over. 

9. Hunger (6k)

Eren Jaeger is weird.

10. i'll give you my heart again (don't take it away with you this time) (2k)

Eren will kill them all.

I don't know if there's an actual trend, but you guys tell me. Gently tagging @dontcallpanic @gege-wondering-around @novasillies and @oldefashioned my loveliessss!! And of course anyone who wants to do this!!!

[ahonice]

Thunder

Thunder - Lana Del Rey

Trevor Zegras x Fem Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: !!!This is a work of fiction, real people in this story are depicted differently then who they truly are!!! Buckle up this one is rough (imo…read note for more context) ANGST, Trevor being a bad boyfriend (I’m sorry, I spun the wheel and he was who it landed on for writing this about like actually I have a wheel to decide who I write about) reader is going through it and cannot catch a break (who can though??) Cursing, drinking (underage, blacking out, drunken confessions) 

Note: This is my favorite Lana song ever, it’s so good (also describes my relationship with my ex PERFECTLY) um so this fic is literally just a telling of my past relationship in fiction form. But new series WHOOP WHOOP more Lana song fics coming soon

*Italics are song lyrics*

***

“You roll like thunder, when you come crashing in. Town ain’t been the same since you left with all your friends.”

Trevor Zegras, your alluring, passionate, loving best friend. Trevor Zegras, your manipulative, callous, apathetic boyfriend. 

You met Trevor when he moved to Michigan for hockey, he was sitting in your unassigned, but assigned, seat in your study hall period. You told him, as nice as someone could be at seven in the morning on the first day of classes after break, that he was in your spot and he immediately got up and moved to the spot behind you. Which surprised you, most people would be assholes about that and refuse to move because there wasn’t assigned seating in that class. What didn’t surprise you was that the guy you had moved out of your seat was now bothering you.

“Would you stop talking? This is a study hall, people might be doing work or studying, that’s what this period is for.” You told him, not very quietly making others in the classroom turn towards you. After he kept talking to you, well to the back of your head, about how god knows what. 

“Sorry, it’s just my first day here and I’m a little nervous.” The boy said, ducking his head in shame, immediately making you feel guilty.

“Oh no I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were new here.” You said, a light blush spreading across your cheeks. “Do you want help figuring out where your classes are?” You offered in hopes to make up for embarrassing him. 

“Sure, that would be great” He smiled at you, “I’m Trevor.” 

“Y/n.”

***

The two of you hit it off, instantly becoming friends. You drove to school together, you hung out during your study hall period every morning, you sat together at lunch, you both had after school activities but afterwards you would meet up to work on homework or just hang out together. After a few months Trevor had asked you to be his girlfriend, and everything was going great, until it wasn’t.

Trevor was a year above you in school, having met when he was a junior and you were a sophomore. The gap never was an issue until the last month of his senior year came crashing in, he was moving to Massachusetts for college in August and you were staying in Michigan to finish off your senior year. The talk went well, you were worried that Trevor would want to break up because he was leaving and didn’t want to do long distance, but Trevor made it very clear that was not what he wanted and he was fine with doing distance for a year because he was sure you were going to get into any school you applied to and that meant you could go to school wherever he ended up after the draft. You were happy in the moment, but you later wished he would’ve just ended things with you then.

“You roll like thunder, when you come crashing in. Regattas in the wind, that's why you’re visiting.”

The first month of long distance seemed to be going great, over the summer you accompanied him to the draft where he got picked to play for Anaheim. Immediately after the two of you spent time researching schools in California, Trevor freaking out once he realized UCLA was under an hour away from the area where he would be staying. 

The second month of long distance went decent, his hockey season began so he was a bit preoccupied, but that was nothing you weren’t used to he had been playing hockey the whole time you were dating. What you weren’t used to was not being in close proximity with him, even with hockey seasons going on the past two years you still were able to see him after his practices got out, now you had to settle for text messages and the occasional phone call.

The third month of long distance is when it all started going to shit, he had a game against the University of Michigan, which you had attended of course, but there was a weird tension between the two of you. There was no flirting, no secret glances which ended in a fit of giggles once you were caught, no sneaking out of his hotel room to meet up with you, he didn’t even take you out to hangout just you two, he kissed you twice the whole time he was there. When he arrived and when he left, they weren’t even real kisses, just grazing of the lips. After he got back to Boston it was radio silence except for one text message.

From: Trev <3

It was nice to see you this weekend.

It was nice to see you this weekend. No I missed you so much, and I miss you even more now that we’re apart again. No I love you, no plans to visit or even call soon, nothing.

“You act like fucking Mr.Brightside when you’re with all your friends, but I know what you’re like when the party ends.”

By the fourth month of long distance your relationship was no longer a relationship, you texted a couple times a day, basically all being stupid imessage games, the only time you got anything close to a real emotion from Trevor was when he was drunk and he called you, he always called when he was inebriated, but you never liked what he said.

“I miss you, but I can’t do long distance anymore.”

“We aren’t the same anymore.”

“Next year when we’re in California I’m worried things will be different between us.”

“I don’t think I love you anymore.”

Each confession was worse than the one before, you’d always end the phone call telling Trevor to call in the morning to properly discuss your future together when he was sober, but he never did and he never remembered the conversations you’d had, leaving you to deal with the drunken confessions yourself, having to stomach knowing that your boyfriend who you love so much no longer feels the same and he won’t even admit it to you. 

“Just do it. Just do it; don’t wait.”

Everyday you waited for the text, the one where Trevor asked to talk to you. The one that would result in the ending of your relationship, but it never came. It got to the point where you wanted to do it for him, to rip off the bandaid he couldn’t. You knew you would never though, because even if he didn’t love you anymore, you still loved him, and at the end of this all you hoped next year, when you were living near each other again, everything would go back to normal between you two. You wish you weren’t so naive when it came to him, you knew you needed to break up, if not for his sake, for yours. It was taking a toll on you, on your mental health, on your school work, you ended up with a C in one of your classes at the end of your first semester of senior year, you had never gotten anything but an A, let alone a C.

“You roll like thunder, pouring all your drinks. The parties lit and you, my friend, half cut when it begins.”

The drunken confessions didn’t stop, they only got worse.

“I never opened the gift you got me for Christmas.”

“I hooked up with a girl last night.”

“When people ask if I’m single I say I am.”

“I’m doing amazing down here, without you.”

“When are we gonna break up?”

Each new confession was another knife to the heart, but you just sat there on the other side of the line listening to each new piece of information your boyfriend, if you could even call him that, would give you.

“You roll like thunder, you’re tryna catch that wind. That lightning in the bottle, that moonbeam in your hand.”

Senior prom came around, you weren’t surprised when Trevor told you he wasn’t coming. You didn’t blame him, even if your relationship wasn’t a shit show and he still cared about you in the slightest bit he had hockey stuff going on that night, and besides who wants to go to a high school dance after they’ve graduated?

What did surprise you was the phone call you received after you sent him a picture of you all dressed up, hair and makeup professionally done, the dress you saved up for months to buy.

“Hello?” This would be the first time the two of you would talk on the phone since November where Trevor wasn’t drunk.

“You look beautiful.” Whiplash rang through your body, Trevor had complimented you. He hadn’t done that in months, the smile that had grown on your face quickly dimmed when you came to that realization. 

“Trevor, why haven’t you broken up with me yet?” The question coming out of your mouth surprised you. You never thought you would be brave enough to face the reality of your relationship.

“Y/n, what are you talking about?” Trevor’s shocked tone of voice riled up your anger. Had he really not been able to pick up on the very obvious changes between the two of you? Was he that apathetic? Could he not tell how much of a toll this was taking on you? Was he even aware of how much you were hurting everyday just by the thought of him.

“We’ll talk later, please don’t drink tonight. I need to have this conversation with my boyfriend–” The words hurt to say, because he wasn’t your boyfriend and he hadn’t been since August, “-not with the drunk asshole he has become.” You hung up before he could say anything in response.

“And you try to see the brightside when each new day begins, but you’re not satisfied at the rainbow’s end.”

To your surprise, Trevor did end up staying sober that night, he waited by the phone for your call for hours, a nice analogy to how you’ve been spending your Saturday nights since you went long distance. You had gone to an after prom party with your friends and had a little too much to drink. You called Trevor, and this time you spoke the drunken confessions that would break your lover’s heart.

“You break me more and more everyday Trevor.”

“You cheated on me, and told me about it like it was no big deal. Do you remember that?”

“Do you remember when you told me you didn’t love me anymore?”

“I got into UCLA, I’m not going. I’m not following you to California.”

“Somehow, after all of this, I still love you.”

“You have to be the one to end our relationship, because I can’t do it.”

You hung up before Trevor could get a word in, hoping that he would take what you said to heart and finally, officially, break up with you.

“Just do it. Just do it; don’t wait.”

Trevor didn’t do it. He didn’t break up with you, he told you the next day he was determined to make it work. That he wasn’t giving up without a fight, which made you laugh seeing that he had given up and your relationship ended months ago.

The day of your graduation, you walked the stage and heard cheering from your friends and family. You heard him, you shouldn’t have been shocked that Trevor showed up, you had sent him the details to his ticket the night before, but seeing him and hearing him in person for the first time since the game he played against Michigan in November was enough to have you crying. You ran into his arms, he ran into yours. He whispered apologies in your ears, but they went in one and out the other. This was your swan song, the last time you would be his girlfriend, the last time he would be your boyfriend, the last time you would be in each other’s arms, it was bitter sweet.

“Cause if you’re on fire, you’re on fire. Just keep burning, ‘til rain. Baby keep me ablaze. Honey if you’re on fire, you’re on fire. Just keep burning, keep me alive. Spare your blade.”

You stayed together, Trevor started acting like the boyfriend you once knew and loved, still loved. But you knew. You knew it was all an act, in august he was gonna move to California to get settled in before preseason and you were moving to Connecticut. You committed to Yale, not UCLA like Trevor had wanted. When you told him you could tell he was upset, he was hoping you would take back what you said to him the night of your prom, he was hoping that you were too drunk to remember you said it and didn’t mean it. Just like you had hoped all those times when he was the one calling you blackedout. 

Anyone around you could tell that your relationship was on its last life, they were shocked you even made it through the school year. You didn’t, but they didn’t need to know that.

It felt like your relationship was the only thing keeping you alive, it was all that kept your flame burning, but all flames die out eventually.

“Just do it. Just do it; don’t wait. If hello just means goodbye then, honey, better walk away. Just do it. Just do it’ don’t wait. If hello just means goodbye then, baby, better walk away.”

Today was your last night with Trevor, you sat by the fire with him in silence until the final flame went out.

“We need to break up.” You stated, the second the two of you were surrounded by the darkness of the night.

“I know.” Trevor stated, looking at you, but he couldn’t see you. You couldn’t see him, you two were in pitch black darkness. The fire was the only thing providing light, but it was now dead. A cruel metaphor for your now dead relationship.

“Just do it. Just do it; don’t wait.”

***

Note: Hope y’all enjoyed, this gets pretty fucking sad. I’m toning it down a bit though just for the sake of my mental health (idk if I can handle reliving this in full honestly…again fuck you chris) Leave feedback, this one might not be everyone’s favorite but I need to write about my feelings because I’m still torn up about this (once again…fuck you chris) (chris is my exes name if you haven’t put that together yet) (I’m gonna stop spilling my guts to strangers on the internet) (goodbye.) This took two hours to write so it might not be my best work, but I proofread (no editing needed kinda worried about that lol) so I hope this at least a little bit decent. Love y’all babes <3

[tinytiger]

The Hobbit- A Kili x F!Reader Fanfic

The Unexpected Party

Masterlist

In the heart of Middle-earth, (Y/N), daughter of an elven king and a dwarf embarks on a quest to reclaim her heritage. Joining Thorin Oakenshield's company, she finds herself drawn to Kili, a dwarf prince. As they journey towards Erebor, (Y/N) confronts the challenges of her mixed bloodline and discovers the true meaning of family. Amidst laughter and camaraderie, she uncovers secrets buried within the mountain and embraces her role as a beacon of hope in the darkness.

Words- 3594 x

The arrow hit its target.

“Yes!” a h/c hair elf cheered, only she wasn’t an elf she had dwarf blood in her too. Most of her was dwarf, she would live as long as them, and she would be as tall as a normal she-dwarf, but she had elf ears, could speak fluent elvenish and could use elven healing, which she only used on herself and her father.

Sighing, she began to walk back to where she had tied up her pony. She thought back to yesterday when her dream had been turned away from her just because of her protective father.

*Flashback*

As Y/n dusted the wood shavings off of her apron she began humming a song she remembered her mother sung to her back when she was alive. Of course, she remembered her real mother and father, but they never came to get her back. News that the young elf princess had been missing travelled fast across Middle Earth, but no one connected it to Y/n. As she walked out of her room to place the arrow she had just finished making with her stuff outside she heard Bilbo’s raised voice echo through the door that had been painted only a week ago.

“There will be no adventures around here! Thank you and-“

Y/n stuck her head out of the door and her eyes met the dazzling colour that belonged to a wizard she knew quite well. 

“Adventure?” she asked completely stepping out of the door and standing next to her father, her beautiful eyes glinting as she bounced on the balls of her feet. 

“Why, Ms Y/n. Yes I do believe you two would be perfect for the vacancies!” exclaimed Gandalf as he chuckled at the whooping young lady in front of her.

“Yes, I would love to go, when, where, what are we doing? Is there the option I might die? it sounds like I’m in!” Y/n cheered running up to where she hid the bow and sword from Bilbo, who in surprise and shock thought that those two things were in the bottom of his drawers Y/n was never allowed to touch.

“No way on Middle Earth are you going on this adventure!” Bilbo shouted as she jumped over the wall of his front garden. Y/n’s head shot up as looked at him with utter disappointment. 

“But Father I-“

“Don’t you dare ‘but father’ me young lady, we talked about this. I hid that from you for a reason.” Gandalf looked at the two and smiled. 

“I’m sorry Gandalf, but I will not allow you to infect her mind with ideas of this adventure you speak of. Come over for tea, tomorrow. Yes come over tomorrow and don’t talk about adventure with my daughter. Umm, good day!” 

And with that, he closed the door swiftly but not to seem rude, after all, wizards were wizards.

He sighed, Y/n was in the kitchen. Her shoulders slumped.

Bilbo sighed again, he hated arguing with her, and she always won.

“When did you take the swords and bow from my draws?” he asked as he sat at the table drinking his cup of tea.

Y/n chuckled and said with a smile adorning on her face, “ When you came back from Mister Gamgees about 7 years ago. You were a bit on the booze, so I saw the opportunity and dashed into your drawing room. They have been hidden in the bush outside, in a case I bought.”

She had fully turned around her green dress waving around her feet like the sea.

Bilbo laughed and pushed a cup of tea towards her, the two spent the night playing cards until the moon was high in the sky.

*End of Flashback*

Y/n noticed how dark it was and quickly got on her black pony Stumpy and quickly rode home. Bilbo had told her to be back before it got dark for tea. She was doing this to hope that Bilbo would let her go on the adventure of her lifetime.

 When she arrived at the hobbit's house, she quickly tied up Stumpy. She pushed the door open, and a sight met her eyes she would never forget:

Four dwarves were pushing and pulling on a table that wouldn’t go through a door, Bilbo was trying to stop them and as soon as she walked through the door all five heads turned to see her. Y/n chuckled, hung up her cloak, unbuckled the sword hustler from her waists that held only her to daggers and placed her weapons on a chair to her left. She looked back at the dwarves and saw two young ones and two old ones. 

“Ummm. Who is the lass?” one said. He had a shaved head and tattoos all over his muscular arms.

 “This is Y/n, my adopted daughter,” Bilbo said as he wiped the sweat from his eyebrows.

 Suddenly all four dwarves dropped the table and stood in a line to greet her. First, a dwarf who had white hair and his name was Balin, then a blonde dwarf with a beard who was called Fili, then came the one who asked you who she was, and his name was Dwalin, then finally a very handsome dwarf kissed her hand and winked at her. 

He had brown curly hair which fell down to his shoulder and brown eyes that sparkled, he unlike his brother Fili, had only some small stubble. His name was Kili. Blushing, she went to help Bilbo get the table of his foot. 

“Why, on middle earth are there four dwarves here? She hissed to Bilbo. He quite loudly whispered back to her glaring at them. 

“No clue.” Y/n quickly went to her room and pulled her hair over her ears.

 Dwarves and Elves never had a good relationship, and she had the idea they knew a lot more about her than she would like.

When she left her room, she was met by a lot more dwarves than there were originally. Then Y/n stopped as she saw Gandalf talking to a dwarf with a grey beard and holding a tray. 

She stomped over and asked, “Gandalf who are these…. dwarves.”

 Trying not to sound too rude she didn’t want to call them a name she would regret.

 “My dear Y/n these are the dwarves of Erebor, we have Dwalin, Balin, Kili, Fili, Dori, Nori, Ori, Oin, Gloin, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur. We are one short though.” Gandalf said pointing at each dwarf at the sound names then sighing. 

“He went to see our kin, in the iron hills. He will be here soon.” Dwalin said leaning against the doorway. 

Y/n walked over to the table and sat down between Kili and Bofur. Then Fili walked onto the table passing everyone a beer and stopping at her. She raised an eyebrow and took the mug out of his hands.

 She slushed the beer around in its mug. Y/n had had this beer before, and she liked it. Looking up she saw every dwarf looking at her with now wet beards as they had all downed their beers.

 “Come, lass,” Bofur said slapping her on the back. Then Y/n spotted Bilbo looking at her shaking his head at her. She smirked at him shrugging her shoulders she knocked her head back as she downed the beer. 

Not spilling a drop. 

When she placed the mug back down, she looked around at the dwarves, mouths open, very wide. Bilbo huffed and threw his arms in the air. Then she felt an arm go around her shoulders, she looked up to meet chocolate brown eyes. She felt her face warm up, then she moved backwards.

 Only to fall into Bofur, who moved backwards, making Y/n fall off the table and bagging her head. A burst of laughter erupted from the room. Then Kili wrapped his arms under Y/n and pulled her up to sit next to him.

 “So, lass, what’s a young girl like you doing slushing down beer like a dwarven maiden,” Balin said. Y/n felt her heart drop. 

“I’m part dwarf and-,” Y/n said staring at her mug. 

“An elf?” Balin said as she tucked her hair behind her ears. Y/n looked up and the dwarfs were all smiling. 

 “Lass, don’t worry your head, we know what you are!” Dwalin said smacking her in the back. 

“You do!” She expressed.

 To her left Kili put his arm around her and smiled. 

“Of course, many dwarves have fallen for elves before!” Kili winked at the group as Y/n’s face grew hot. She stood up and went to find Bilbo. He was not enjoying the company as much as she was. He was whisper-shouting at Gandalf.

 “And I don’t even want to mention what they have done in the toilet.” Y/n giggled as she walked up to Bilbo and said, “I think they are lovely, and maybe they could tell me a bit about my mother.” 

Then Ori came over to them and asked. 

“I am sorry to interrupt but where shall I put my plate?” Y/n opened her mouth to speak but then Fili said.

 ”Here Ori give it here.” Then he threw it over his head towards Kili who caught it and then threw it back into the kitchen.

 “Hey, I need my head,” Y/n said as the second plate narrowly missed her if she hadn’t ducked. Then Biblo ran back into the kitchen where the table had been placed Y/n heard Kili sing:

Blunt the knives, bend the forks

Y/n looked up at him and smiled then Fili sang.

Smash the bottles and burn the corks!

Chip the glasses and crack the plates.

The rest of the dwarves joined in 

That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!

Laughing Y/n joined in ducking at the odd plate or so. Then Kili jumped next to her and started to spin her around. Her h/c hair followed behind her. 

Cut the cloth, tread on the fat.

Leave the bones on the bedroom mat.

Pour the milk on the pantry floor.

Splash the wine on every door!

Dump the crocks in a boiling bowls.

Pound them up with a thumping pole

When you're finished if they are whole

Send them down the hall to roll.

That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!

After what felt like hours of dancing and ducking, Y/n finally stopped next to Kili, who had a little pipe in his hand. All the dwarves were laughing, and Y/n was chuckling earning a look from Bilbo.

Then a loud harsh knock Bilbo rushed to get it and Y/n followed after Gandalf said hoarsely 

“He is here”.

 In front of Y/n and Bilbo was a handsome dwarf who had deep blue eyes, Y/n had recognised him and by the looks of it, so did he.

Then he walked in through the door and mumbled something about getting lost twice, but Y/n didn’t hear. 

She was too busy trying to remember where she had seen him before when something Gandalf had said brought her out of her trance.

 “This is Bilbo and Y/n is the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield.” Y/n looked up and gasped.

 She remembered something, her mother. 

On her birthday, her best friend Dis visited she showed the two a picture of her sons and brother, Thorin was the brother. Then Thorin looked at Biblo, not noticing the girl standing to his left. He did not look impressed,

“What is your weapon of choice axe or sword?” Y/n mentally face palmed herself when she heard the words coming out of Bilbo’s mouth. 

“I am quite skilled at conkers if you must not, but I see no reason on how that is at all relevant.” Sighing Thorin looked at Gandalf and said, “Are we making any more stops, I said to find the 14th and 15th members of the company. I only see one.” 

Y/n stepped out of the dark corner she slunked herself into.

“Good to see you to Thorin.” Thorin then spun around to see a spitting image of his sister’s best friend standing in front of him. 

“There Thorin is our 15th member,” Gandalf said pointing to Gwen. She smirked but then it dropped when Fili opened his mouth and spoke. 

“But Gandalf she is a girl, I bet she can’t even defend herself.” With a flash, Y/n pulled a dagger out of her pocket and threw it at Fili, narrowly missing his face but cutting off some of his beard and ramming into the wall behind him.  Bilbo gasped and the rest of the company chuckled. 

“You’re Namath’s daughter aren’t you,” Thorin said as he walked over to the kitchen table, nodding his head to his kin. 

“Yes, I am,” Y/n said following him and making him a plate of food.

 Thorin chuckled as he sat down. Then the rest of the company joined him. Y/n stood at the corner of the table until Kili beckoned her over. Y/n walked over and squatted beside him.

 “How do you know my uncle?” He said looking down at her, his eyes counting each freckle on her nose. 

“He knew my mother,” Y/n said standing up again after her thighs started to hurt her. She began to walk away but then Kili grabbed her hand and pulled her to sit next to him and Fili. Then Y/n lent towards Fili and said, 

“Sorry about earlier, I just hate it when people say stuff like that.” Fili chuckled and said back

 “It's fine, you can defend yourself.”

Y/n wanted to talk to Thorin about her mother, but more important things stood in the way. Gandalf was telling us about some map when she noticed him pull out a key from his sleeve. Thorin looked at it as if it were a puppy that just spoke. 

“If there’s a key, there must be a door,” Fili said. Y/n smiled at the thought she would be helping the company get back to their home and her mother’s old home. 

Then the dwarves started to shout about something when Thorin stood and shouted 

“Ath gjorv!” Y/n understood what he had said. As a young child, her mother had taught her Dwarvish, and she still spoke it but only she wanted to swear. All the dwarves fell silent, and then Thorin said. 

”The dragon, Smaug hasn’t been seen for 60 years. So, we still cannot just go barging in.” They all looked down and Ori said, 

“We will never get our home back.” 

 Y/n felt Kili move forward, and his knee moved towards hers. 

“But you don’t remember we have Gandalf on the team, I bet he has killed thousands of Dragons in his time.” He said smiling at every dwarf.

 Y/n looked up and saw Gandalf go pink with embarrassment, and instantly Y/n could tell that he had killed 0 dragons in his time. Then all the dwarves started to cheer again and even Y/n joined in this time, she would help get these dwarfs their home back, even if Bilbo said she couldn’t.

 “You will need a burglar then.” Y/n looked up to see Bilbo had walked behind Thorin. 

“And an expert one too.” Y/n laughed, Bilbo was walking straight into this one.

 “And are you?” Oin asked leaning forward. 

“Am I what?” Bilbo asked scratching his head.  

“He says he is an expert!” All the dwarves cheer again but Bilbo cuts them off by shouting 

“I am not a burglar! Neither is Y/n... I think.” 

Kili and Fili start to chuckle. 

“Well, there were a few times when I was out of arrows, and I used to get some from Mr. Jones. But then again I was 50.” Y/n said earning a glare from Bilbo. 

“I am afraid I agree with Mr Baggins, he is no Burglar, but the lass has shown great skill in defending herself, maybe she would like to come?” Balin said looking at Bilbo and then y/n who nodded her head as Balin passed her a contract.

 But before she could get it out of the old man’s hands Bilbo snatched it away from her. Y/n got up and walked over to him as he read. 

“Incineration!” Bilbo said after struggling to say the word for some time. 

“Oh yeah, Smaug would melt the flesh right off your bones,” Bofur said leaning around the doorway. Then Y/n grabbed the contract and lifted it higher so Bilbo couldn’t reach it. As she read through the pages, her heart lifted with every sentence, this looked like fun and she would get a 15th share. Then she said earning looks from the company, 

“Many ways to die, sounds like my kind of adventure.” Then she turned around and saw Bilbo lying on the floor. She sighed; he had fainted.

“Thanks for that Bofur.”  y/n heard Gandalf say as he moved forward and helped Y/n carrying Bilbo into a chair. 

After Bilbo had been placed in the chair, Y/n went to get a quill to sign the contract. She smiled looking down at the long curvy signature. She was going on an adventure, to claim back her mother's homeland. Then she remembered she had wanted to ask Thorin about her mother, so she found him talking to Balin. She handed over the contract and looked at Thorin. 

“So, I was wondering if you could tell me anything about my mother?” she asked after Balin walked away. Thorin smiled at her. 

“Sure, thing lass, well where do I begin? She looked exactly like you to start with, and…. She was a really good friend of mine, She and Dis were best friends so, she also was an exceptionally good fighter.” He said trying to remember what her mother was like. 

“But she went for a long expedition to visit her uncle in the iron hills, when Orcs had attacked her, she had put up a good fight, but one Orc came behind her, and she fainted. But when she opened her eyes, she was in a bed with your father looking at her. Dis visited her twice, one time when she was pregnant with you and then when you were born, she gave you a bow, which I saw on the chair by the door.”

 Y/n laughed. Her mother was exactly how she wanted to know her. But what she didn’t know was how she died.

 “Do…. Do you know how she died?” she asked. Thorin’s eyes fell, staring at the ground. Thorin did know how the young woman’s mother died but he didn’t want to tell afraid that she would go after the one responsible for her mother’s death.

 “No, Y/n I do not know. I am deeply sorry.” Thorin said pulling Y/n into a warm hug.

After the little pep talk with Thorin, Y/n found Biblo was awake and talking to Gandalf, but being the sneaky girl, she was she just listened in to their conversation. 

“Gandalf will you make sure me and (y/n)  both come back, I know she wants to go on an adventure it’s probably her mother shining in her as I am told, but… I am not going.” Gandalf sighed and Y/n walked away head hung low.

 As she walked out of the billiard room, she heard Balin say. “I believe we have lost our burglar, but we have 14 which is better.” She smiled at him and went to sit on the stool by the fire. After staring at it for a couple of minutes all the dwarves came in and started to sing.

Far over the misty mountain cold 

To dungeons deep and caverns old

We must away ere break of day. 

To seek our pale enchanted gold.

Y/n had loved the singing of the dwarves. It was so peaceful and calm. She also remembered this tale, her mother used to sing it when she was younger, and she would always laugh when she tried to do a very deep voice.

The dwarves of yore made mighty spells.

While hammers fell like ringing bells

In place deep, where dark things sleep.

In hallow halls beneath the fells

Bilbo could hear the singing from the billiard room, he was thinking of dragons and fire and gold. Then a fire lit inside him and he wanted to hold a sword instead of a walking stick. Then he shook his head, he was being silly.

For ancient kings and elvish lord

There many a gleaming golden hoard

They shaped a wrought, and light they caught.

To hide in gems on the hilt of sword

On silver necklaces, they strung

The flowering stars on crowns they hung.

The dragon fire in twisted wire

They meshed the light of moon and sun.

Far over the misty mountain cold

To dungeons deep and caverns old

We must away ere break of day.

To find our long-forgotten gold.

By the end of the song, Y/n and Bilbo were fast asleep. Gandalf pulled on a blanket over Bilbo, while Thorin picked up Y/n bridal style and placed her on the sofa in front of the fire, kicking Bofur off it. Then he leaned over the girl's sleeping body and kissed her forehead. 

[annoyinglandmagazine]

A Song Only You Can Hear: Chapter 1

‘Fingon sweetheart, just remember that your father and I are both very proud of you no matter what. Just try your best and work hard ok darling?’ Amil was trying hard not to cry and Atto was not far behind. ‘I’ll be fine stop worrying! You’re making a scene!’ he huffed while looking around. He was fourteen years old, practically a grown up, he didn’t need them ruining his first impression on all his new classmates! Atto chuckled and leaned down to give him a hug ‘Sorry, sorry! We’ll leave you be now. Good luck!’ Turgon held Irisse up so she could kiss his cheek and Fingon wrapped his arm around him quickly before picking up his trunk. ‘And remember, I’m expecting letters from you every week, Fingon Aracano Findekano Nolofinwean!’ was the last call from his mother while he took a deep breath and walked into the crowd of students in the entrance hall.

He side stepped almost immediately to avoid a younger boy tripping over a stray trunk. It was absolute abject chaos. He couldn’t hear anything over the sound of yelling, whooping and, he was fairly, sure some crying. He glanced around, trying to find some sort of authority figure to little avail. ‘Registration! Registration for new students over here!’ He saw a man with greying auburn hair weaving his way down the swarmed stone steps, waving a list.

Fingon pushed his way through, with repeated apologies and made his way towards him. A few minutes later he was hauling his trunk up the narrow staircases and corridors repeating the room number he’d been given to himself determinedly. In what felt like hours he’d made his way to his new common room. There were about a few dozen boys chattering loudly with each over. He took a deep breath and pulled on his most charismatic and friendly smile.

‘Hi! My name’s Fingon I was wondering if you could tell me where dorm E5 is?’ Some of them turned and a cheerful looking one spoke first ‘You’re the new kid right? I’m Beleg, nice to meet you. Your room’s just up those steps and first to your right. Dinner’s at half six so you should get ready for that. Any questions? We’re doing rugby tryouts if you’re interested-’ and he was cut off by a boy cleaning a flute in the corner, ‘Honestly Beleg, the guy just got here! Not everything has to revolve around sport!’

A boy with waist length blonde hair interrupted with a dramatic gasp ‘How dare you! Thel, you traitor!’ ‘Oh calm down Glorfindel-’ The conversation descended into chaos and the first boy, Beleg, mouthed ‘Get out while you still can,’ to him from the back. Fingon smiled back and slipped up the stairs.

He found the door and knocked. ‘Come in.’ He opened the door and found his new roommate unpacking his bags methodically into his set of drawers. He finished neatly folding a shirt and turned to face Fingon. He had wavy red hair just above his shoulders and towered over Fingon despite seemingly making an effort not to.

He was possibly the prettiest boy Fingon had ever seen. He looked at Fingon expectantly and he became aware that he’d just been standing there saying nothing. His social skills must have been impacted by the long journey. ‘I’m Fingon, I’m your new roommate,’ he said quickly. He smiled widely to try and make the other boy forget his awkwardness.

‘I’m Maedhros,’ he said. ‘Your drawers are over there, that’s your bed, that desk is for you to use and lights out is at half past nine. As your year head I am always available for further questions you may have.’ He then turned back to his bag and did not acknowledge anyone else until dinner time, which he spent in business like coordination with a fourth year over debating team arrangements.

[mamamittens]

Update!

Well, this week has been fuck all for production hasn't it lol? Literally passed out for about 16 hours yesterday and am tempted to do it again.

Sorry about that, by the way, it's been an exhausting and stressful week at work prepping for inventory (which was today) basically by myself and with two major storms having blown into my area (one just winding down for me with currently over 80,000 power outages and winds reaching up to 90 miles an hour, yikes) that had tornado threats so I had to watch like a hawk in case we needed to take shelter quickly.

Okay, I say need but it's mostly for my anxiety but I still spent most of this afternoon sick and nauseous from either the steak I had for dinner or stress. Probably both idk, my body is a bit weird sometimes.

Folks that have been around while may know that I don't tend to write anything if there's severe weather in my area, so anyone new can now know that too lol

Plans for the future? Well, I want to knock out those requests and address the asks that have been gathering dust in my inbox (whoops). I'm still deciding if I want to introduce Koala (and start waving that Fisher death flag lol) or keep walking through those big milestones--ah I still need to introduce the toxin thing whoops--maybe saving a few for emotional flashbacks? It is about a 2 year jump so there's quite a lot that could happen in that timespan.

It's a little hard to say cause idk how interested y'all are in the other, less exciting baby firsts compared to walking and talking. And while I enjoy writing in these little moments and mostly get my serotonin thataway from fic ideas to keep me going and interested, I don't intend to bore you all.

Oh! I will start cross posting on AO3 soon just to avoid the tedious process of uploading the entire thing(when I finish) chapter by chapter cause that shit sucked ngl so look forward to that I suppose~

Bear in mind that I have about 3 hours of free time on weekdays so some things genuinely take me a while if I want to do other things like catch up on fics or YouTube... Or Tears of the Kingdom lmao

Hopefully, I'll see y'all soon with more content!

And sorry for the delay, this hasn't been my intention but when is it ever?

[samsspambox]

howdy! i did a thing!

tw: medical procedures

i think i've mentioned this before on here but i've been having stomach issues for years (i legit dry heave after every meal. and when i get nervous/any strong emotion. it's so annoying) and i finally got my doctor to refer me over to a gastroenterologist. so! after a 15 minute visit in november, i was scheduled for a Upper Endoscopy, which happened earlier today at a hospital!

now, i've been lucky enough to never be admitted to the hospital before, so this was a first for me. i was scared shitless. that and it was cold, so i couldn't stop trembling LMAO

anyway! i had to go under for a few hours and it was the weirdest experience of my life. and also had some funny bits lol.

when they first hooked me up to a heart monitor, my heart rate Would Not Go Down. it wouldn't fall under 120. the nurse was like 'deep breaths' and i wanted to laugh bc i am an Anxious Person. 120 was as low as it was gonna get LOL. it'd always spike when someone new entered the room too, which was the funniest thing. the person who came to help with my IV was like 'are you okay'? yeah, i was okay. just nervous and scared lol. the IV guy was so nice and even tho he had trouble finding my vein, he only stabbed me once. thank you IV guy.

when the anesthesiologist came in, it was so funny too.

anesthesiologist: do you have any anxiety or depression

me: yes

anesthesiologist: ...one or the other?

me: oh! whoops, both. sorry about that.

and then came the time that they actually put me under. it was so weird. the doctor hadn't even finished saying 'you might feel a little burning' when i just clonked out. the whole world started bubbling and i went 'oh this is weird' and bam, i was asleep. granted i think only having 3 hours of sleep on me helped LMAO

i ended up coming to in recovery! and fairly quickly too, i think they were just finished moving the bed to the spot when i started talking even if my throat was sore. which was also another funny interaction in my opinion LMAO

me, still mildly out of it: is it over?

nurse: it is. you just rest up and then we'll move you to another room.

me: my mom is in the waiting room, can she come in?

nurse: i'm afraid not, sweetie.

me: okay. thank you for taking care of me

nurse: you're welcome. would you like a blanket?

me: yes please, thank you.

let it be known that i am a polite camper!! look at me, using my manners LMAOO

idk how long i actually spent in recovery since i was still mildly out of it and i didn't have my watch or phone on me. they wheeled me out into another recovery room with a heated chair and plopped me down and then got me apple juice, which i was hella stoked about. they then called my mom and she walked into the room, but at this point i was much more lucid and happily eating a graham cracker.

me, looking at my mom who's looking for the room i'm in: oh! ma! hello!!

mom, hearing me and walking over: ay mija! what did they do to you? you're all pale!

me: really? i feel fine though

mom: yes really, you're pale!

me: hey at least i'm awake and conscious enough to tell you how to get out the parking lot

mom: you're right

and then i got discharged, but had to wait a little bit bc my mom got lost inside the hospital and had just made it to the car when they sat me on the wheelchair (a wheelchair!! pushed by a nurse!!! idk i was just very surprised bc i felt like i would walk it on my own and i know it was policy but huh!!) and then we went home at around 9. for context i was at the hospital since 6am, and the last time i was able to check time was at 7:20-ish, so i was out a solid hour and a half.

and then when we got home i crashed and then ate some soup.

this experience was weird. going under was an interesting experience. i hope i never have to do that ever again LMAO.

[lovelyweepingglitter]

The Little Glass Slipper

Once upon a time, in a faraway kingdom, there lived a gentle and modest widowed merchant named Kizashi Haruno and his daughter Sakura, who was an intelligent young girl with a kind heart and sweet disposition. This made her belove by her father and everybody else she knew. As time went by the girl grew lovelier as her father grew lonelier. Since his first wife, Mebuki, passed away years ago, he had been looking for another woman to wed so that he could give his daughter a new mother figure.

One day, he met Lady Hinako Masuda, a woman with two daughters of her own, Reika and Fujiko Masuda. Kizashi married Lady Hinako and he introduced her to his daughter as her new stepmother. On the outside, Lady Hinako was a poised, well-known woman of kneen feeling and refined taste. However, she spent most of her time doting on her two daughters, spoiling them until they were just as vile, selfish, vain, and rotten as she was. Despite her many attempts, Sakura was never able to grow closer to her new stepmother.

One stormy night, Kizashi grew ill. His faithful daughter stayed by his side at every waking moment, caring for him to the best of her abilities while his new wife kept her distance. He declared his undying love for Sakura before sadly passing away.

This made Lady Hinako grow jealous of her stepdaughter and a new hatred for the young woman had formed in her icy black heart. She seized the family fortune and spent it all on herself and her daughters, relieving the household servants of their responsibilities, and forcing Sakura to become a slave in her own home. Despite her stepfamily being so cruel to her, Sakura kept her kind heart, generous nature, and loving spirit. She did the cooking and cleaning around the house without speaking one word of complaint or contempt.

Sometimes when it was too cold in the drafty attic where she slept, Sakura would sleep by the amber glow of the dying fire of the hearth to keep warm and the ashes would blow all over her body, covering her face and hair in a fresh blanket of dust and ashes and making her look gray and dirty whenever she woke up the next morning. Despite the insults, chores, and occasional beatings, Sakura always looked on the bright side of things and secretly wished that someday this nightmare would come to an end and she would finally be happy.

One morning, Sakura was scrubbing the floor of the foyer when she heard a knock at the door. She curiously opened it to see one of the King's royal messengers standing before her. The messenger loudly blasted a trumpet in her face before announcing:

"HEAR YE! HEAR YE! THEIR MAJESTIES, THE KING AND QUEEN-"

Before he could finish, Sakura interrupted the messenger by clearing her throat and saying, "You don't have to shout, I'm right here. I can hear you every word you're saying just fine."

"Whoops." The messenger apologized before giving a scroll with the royal seal to Sakura and saying, "Their Majesties, King Hikaru and Queen Ayaka have requested all eligible maiden a Royal Gala tomorrow evening in honor of their only son, Prince Kazuya Watanabe, where he might select a bride."

"A Gala?! Tomorrow night?!" Sakura exclaimed as she held invitation in her hands. Her eyes went wide with excitement. "This is fantastic! I have to tell my Stepmother right away! Thank you very much!"

The messenger smiled, nodded, picked up his trumpet, and happily skipped off to the next house where Sakura could hear him blowing his trumpet loudly in someone else's ears. She rolled her eyes and shook her head with a smirk before closing the door behind her. Sakura was so excited about the Gala that she didn't even notice the dark glares her stepfamily was giving her when she barged in on their breakfast to tell them the news.

"Sakura, what in the name of God are you doing?! You know not to interrupt our meals like this!" Lady Hinako scolded.

"Oh! I-I'm sorry, Stepmother. I didn't mean to barge in, I was just-" Sakura stuttered.

"Hey, what's that?" Reika asked, seeing the scroll.

"Let me see it!" Fujiko said as she took the scroll from her stepsister.

"Hey! Let go of that!"

"No! Gimme that back! I wanna see it!"

"I saw it first!"

"No, I saw it first!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

As the two girls continued to argue over the scroll, Lady Hinako calmly took the inviation from her daughters, opened it, and read it silently to herself. As she read, she gasped to herself as her eyes seemed to brighten every few seconds. The moment she finished reading the scroll, she excitedly stood from her chair and smiled.

"My goodness! This is wonderful news! Our big chance!" She exclaimed before turning her attention to her daughters. "Girls. Girls. GIRLS!! Stop fighting this instant! It's a message from the palace!"

"THE PALACE?!" Reika and Fujiko cried. Their arguing abruptly stopped.

"Yes, it's true! The King and Queen are inviting us to a Gala tomorrow evening! It's for the Prince to find a wife!" Lady Hinako answered, holding up the invitation in the air.

"A WIFE?!" Reika and Fujiko excitedly squealed.

The two sisters cheered and jumped for joy at the prospect of meeting and possibly being wed to the Prince himself. Sakura cleared her throat to get their attention.

"Uh, Stepmother? Did you read the part about every eligible maiden being invited?" she asked.

All too soon, the room went quiet. Lady Hinako broke the silence by glaring at her stepdaughter as she grumbled, "Yes, I did. Why?"

"No reason. But, I was just thinking...can I go to the Gala too? Please?" Sakura asked with a bashful look on her face.

"You?! Go to the Gala?!" Reika and Fujiko scoffed. Lady Hinako put her hand over her face and closed her eyes as she shook her head.

"Have you lost your mind, Sakura?!" Reika said.

"What would a Prince want with an ugly servant girl like you?!" Fujiko added.

"But, I just thought..." The pinkette started before hearing her stepmother's voice.

"Girls, enough," Lady Hinako ordered before looking back at her stepdaugher. "Well, let's see, Sakura. How do I put this delicately? No."

She gave Sakura a cruel glare and smiled wickedly with her daughters following suit. The room was quiet again. Sakura's hopeful smile suddenly twisted into a disappointed frown and her eyes softened.

"What? But-but...but why, Stepmother?!" Sakura asked.

"Is it not obvious, dear? You're all raggedy and filthy. You can't go to the Gala dressed like that. Everybody would just laugh at you if you came in those old things. And we wouldn't want that now, would we? You stay put, Gala out. No. Bye-bye. End of discussion," Lady Hinako said bluntly.

Reika and Fujiko laughed harshly at their disappointed stepsister. Sakura looked at herself with a shameful expression and sighed. Her stepmother was right. Lady Hinako and her daughters soon went back to their rooms to pick out their outfits for the Gala.

"Sakura! Come here! NOW!!" Lady Hinako demanded. The dusty pinkette nervously followed closely behind the group of three.

The next day, Sakura helped her stepmother and stepsisters get ready for the Gala that night. There was a lot of primping, grooming, and dressing involved and it was very difficult. And when her chores were done and everyone was ready to go, Sakura couldn't help but feel sadder as she watched her stepfamily prep themselves. She knew that she could never be as lovely as them. Then it was time to head to the palace.

"We'll be out very late, I'm sure," Lady Hinako said to Sakura as she and her daughters stood in the open doorway.

"So try not to do anything stupid while we're gone," Fujiko commented.

"And clean up while you're at it," Reika added.

"Well, I hope you have a good time," Sakura said.

"You know we will. Come on, girls. The Prince awaits. Oh! And one more thing, Sakura. Don't follow us. Have fun."

And with that being said, the three wicked women left for the Gala, locking the door behind them so that Sakura couldn't follow them. The moment the three women were out of sight, the pinkette couldn't help but feel very somber when she was left all alone. Sadly, Sakura gazed out the window at the shimmering castle in the distance. She sighed as she leaned on her hands on the window sill. She felt like crying at this point. As she looked at the castle, she saw a falling shooting star soar across the sky and made a wish.

"I wish...I wish that I could go to the Gala," Sakura said before throwing herself onto the floor and began to cry.

Sakura was just about to give up all hope when all of a sudden, a bright light showed into the room, only she was too sad to notice. When the light disappeared, a hand from somewhere unknown reached out and tenderly patted the crying pinkette's back.

"Please don't cry. It's alright. Not all hope is lost," an unfamiliar voice said.

Sakura abruptly lifted her head from the floor and looked around for the source. Then she noticed the hand on her shoulder. She gasped, stood up, looked behind her, and there standing before her was a mysterious and beautiful woman she had never seen before. Sakura gasped and stepped back in surprise.

"No, no. I won't hurt you. It's okay, Sakura," The woman said reassuringly.

Scared and dumbfounded, Sakura asked, "H-how do you know my name? Who are you?"

"Who am I? I thought that would've been pretty obvious. I'm Kaede, your Fairy Godmother."

"Fairy...? But-but-but...I didn't know I had a Fairy Godmother!"

"Of course you do! Everybody does. Well, at least people who truly deserve our help."

"Help?"

"Of course. That's why I'm here. I'm here to grant your wish...to help you go to the Gala."

"The Gala? You mean it?"

"Yes. Now before I do anything, I'll need some supplies. Can you get me a peach real quick?"

"A peach? Uh...sure. Yes, of course."

Sakura was confused by this strange request, but she didn't want to argue. So she retrieved a peach from a fruit bowl sitting on a table and held it up to Kaede.

"Perfect. Now just set that on the floor in front of me and, you might want to take a few steps back for this," The Fariy Godmother said. sor

Sakura nodded and slowly backed away from the peach while Kaede stood above it. The Fairy Godmother closed her eyes and activated her magic wand before the peach on the floor was engulfed in a bright white light and it began to shake, mutate, and morph in kind. It grew larger and larger, hollowing itself out and growing all sorts of new different features. By the time she was done, the peach had been transformed into a beautiful carriage. Sakura gasped in awe. Her eyes went wide with astonishment.

"There we go. One gorgeous carriage," The Fairy Godmother said proudly. "Now, do you have any little animals running around here?"

"Yes, we do. We have a few mice and chipmunks around here somewhere, but I never had the heart to hurt them," Sakura replied.

"Great. Do you think you can find some for me?"

"Sure, I think so. But what you need small animals for?"

"Trust me, nothing bad will happen to them. I promise."

Without missing a beat, four little white mice, a big brown chipmunk, and two sleek green lizards ran out of the hole in the wall right in front of the Sakura and stopped at the Fairy Godmother's feet. Sakura took another few steps back as Kaede curiously inspected the seven little creatures before her.

"Uh...this is a little more than I bargained for, actually," she said, blinking a few times and standing straight again. "Oh well. These should do just fine."

"What are you going to do to them?" Sakura asked.

"Watch."

The Fairy Godmother's wand glowed again and this time, her magic transformed the white mice into four stunnng ponies, the chipmunk was turned into an elderly man with whiskers to drive the carriage, and the two lizards were turned into two dashing ushers. The group made their way to the carriage, positioning themselves for the girl's departure. Sakura's eyes widened again as she gasped at the now fully equipped carriage.

"This is perfect. Now you're ready to go," The Fairy Godmother said as she gestured her hand toward the open carriage door.

"What?" Sakura said, looking down at herself, then back at Kaede. "No, I can't go to the Gala dressed like this."

"What? Oh yeah! Yeah! The dress! Sorry, I completely forgot about that part. Okay, just close your eyes and hold still. I promise this won't hurt a bit."

Sakura did as she was told. Once again, The Fairy Godmother activated her magic wand and a bright white light surrounded the pinkette as she was lifted into the air. In a big explosion of light, Sakura reappeared wearing a beautiful gown in shades of red with her long pink hair done into a sleek, elegant bun and sparkling glass slippers on her feet.

"Okay, Sakura, you can look now," Kaede said, turning off her magic wand.

Sakura slowly opened her eyes, excited and afraid to see what had just happened to her. She looked at herself and gasped in awe as she beheld the dress she was wearing.

"My goodness. I...I...I look incredible! Thank you, Aunt Kaede! Thank you so much!" She cried, embracing her Fairy Godmother tightly before climbing into the peach carriage. "I'm so excited. This is a dream come true!!"

"You're very welcome. I don't go around doing this sort of thing for just anybody, you know," Kaede said.

Suddenly, Sakura remembered something. Lady Hinako. "Aunt Kaede, what about my stepmother and stepsisters?"

"Oh, them? Don't worry. I'll make sure they don't recognize you."

The Fairy Godmother's wand glowed with magic again and added a special ruby headband studded with green gems into Sakura's hair to make it so that her stepfamily wouldn't be able to know who she was.

"Now, off you go, for you shall go to the Gala."

"I can't thank you enough for this!"

"Please, don't mention it! I'm always happy to help. Oh, wait! I almost forgot! Like all dreams, this one doesn't last forever. So remember, you must leave the Gala by midnight."

"Midnight? Why? What happens if I'm not?"

"Because at the last echo of the last bell on the last stroke of twelve, all of the spells that I've cast will be broken and everything will return to what it was before. Do you promise?"

"Don't worry, Aunt Kaede. I'll be home by midnight, I promise."

"Good. Now go enjoy yourself. And remember...nobody deserves this more than you."

And with that, The Fairy Godmother used her magic to unlock and open the front doors of the house and the peach carriage quickly pulled its way out of the foyer and it began its journey to the castle for the Gala. Sakura smiled excitedly and waved goodbye to Kaede as she waved back.

"Oh, I do hope she remembers the curfew. It'll be so embarrassing if she's doesn't," Kaede muttered to herself before vanishing in a bright white flash.

At the castle, the Gala was in full swing, and everybody that was there having a wonderful time, all except for Prince Kazuya himself that is. He wasn't having as much fun as the other guests and he was growing more and more bored with the Gala every minute. Things go so bad for the Prince that his parents thought he would never find his true love.

"Ugh, this is so boring," Kazuya yawned as he stood beside the King and Queen.

"Come on, son. Lighten up," King Hikaru said jokingly.

"Yes, dear. There has to be something you find enjoyable...or maybe somebody who probably caught your fancy by now," Queen Ayaka added.

"No. I don't even know why you planned this whole thing for me in the first place," The Prince groaned, putting a hand over his face.

"You know the answer to that. It's for you to find and choose a wife," King Hikaru answered.

"Ugh! Not this again! Mom, Dad, I already told you! I don't want..."

But before Prince Kazuya could finish his sentence, everything went silent. The Prince looked and he could see the reason why. When Sakura entered the Gala at the top of the staircase and gazed at the ballroom, she couldn't believe her eyes.

'Wow. This is even more beautiful than I imagined,' she thought, with a smile creeping onto her lips.

Everybody stopped what they were doing and they all stared at Sakura in awe as she walked down the stairs and into the ballroom. They thought she was the most beautiful and regal girl they have ever seen and thought of her as a princess, but nobody knew who she was. Not too far, Prince Kazuya took a good at Sakura and his mouth fell open.

'Who is that? She's beautiful,' he thought as his eyes widened with astonishment.

"You were saying?" The Queen asked.

"Son? Are you alright? Son," The King said, nudging Prince Kazuya's shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine," The Prince muttered, not turning his gaze away. "Excuse me."

Prince Kazuya made his way to Sakura with a single-minded determination. He had never seen a girl so lovely in all his life. Once he had made his way in front of her, he bowed his head to her before politely saying:

"Hello."

Sakura turned her head around and she saw probably the most handsome young man she had never seen. Her eyes widened when she realized he was the Prince.

"How do you do, Your Highness?" She politely said before bowing her head.

"Hey, I was just wondering, would you...like to dance?"

"Oh, uh...yes. I'd love to. Thank you."

Sakura smiled and took Prince Kazuya's hand before they made their way to the middle of the dance floor as the lights slowly dimmed for a more romantic setting. Soon, the two began to dance a waltz as the orchestra began to play. Sakura had never learned how to dance before, but that didn't seem to stop her from gliding across the marble floor with Prince Kazuya at her side. As the couple dances, the other girls only stared at them with disappointment and envy with Lady Hinako and her two daughters more than anyone else.

"Who does that little hussy think she is anyway? Other girls want a turn to dance with the Prince too, you know!" Fujiko protested.

"For once, I agree with you! What a brat!" Reika shrieked, angrily stomping her foot on the floor. "Mother, who is she?!"

"I have no idea, girls. But I do know one thing. This definitely does not look good. Wait...have I seen that girl somewhere before?" Lady Hinako muttered, eying the young woman curiously.

"Um, Your Highness? Everybody is staring at us," Sakura whispered.

"Really? I forgot that there was anyone else here." Prince Kazuya smiled.

During the course of the evening, Sakura was having the time of her life while gaining the respect and affection of everyone with her natural charm and beauty. And she soon began to grow feelings of affection towards Prince Kazuya. He shares the same emotions towards her. And eventually, these feelings blossomed into something more. But Sakura was having so much fun that she had completely forgotten her Fairy Godmother's warning. Sakura and the Prince soon made their way out of the bustling ballroom and out onto the balcony.

"I've had an amazing time tonight," Prince Kazuya said sheepishly.

"Me too. I'll never forget this," Sakura added.

"Me neither. Beautiful night, isn't it?"

"Yes, I love the night. And this view? I don't think things could get any more breathtaking than this."

"Yeah, it's gorgeous. Hey, I just noticed something. You never mentioned your name or who you are throughout the night, not even once. Can you tell me what it is?"

"My name? Oh. Uh...I shouldn't say."

"Why not?"

"Because, well...because I don't even belong here."

"What? Surely, you must be joking. The Gala's in my honor, isn't it? And as far as I'm concerned...you're the only one that does belong here."

Sakura blushed and smiled. The two young lovers stared into each other's eyes loving while getting closer and closer to each other, with their hands almost touching.

"Now, your name?" Prince Kazuya asked.

"Right. My name is..."

But before Sakura could tell Prince Kazuya her name, the clock started chiming. She looked at the clock tower and saw that it was midnight.

"Oh no! Midnight! I'm sorry, but I have to go!" Sakura exclaimed, standing up.

"What? When?" Prince Kazuya asked, also standing up.

"Now! It's just really hard to explain. Mice and peaches and...and things."

"Say that again?"

"Again, I'm so sorry!"

Sakura quickly kissed Prince Kazuya's cheek and ran back into the castle. She raced through the crowded ballroom and the enormous groups of people as fast as she could, desperately trying to reach the exit. As she continued to run, the Prince ran after her as he pleaded with her to stop.

"Wait! Stop! Don't go!"

But Sakura kept on running, with her heart beating faster and louder with every haunting toll of the clock tower's enormous bell. Soon enough, she finally made her way out of the ballroom, through the hallways, and down the castle staircase. But while she was running down the stairs, she tripped on the stone and lost one of her glass slippers. As the clock finally struck tweleve, the magic had completely worn off and Sakura was back in her old rags.

'Oh no. I'm too late,' she thought, looking at herself shamefully.

"Come back! Where are you going?! Stop, please!" Prince Kazuya shouted.

Sakura couldn't risk letting the Prince see her in such a state. Thinking fast, she took off her other glass slipper, slipped it into her pocket, and run off barefoot as fast as she could and back home with sweat running down her face and tears in her eyes.

Moments later, Prince Kazuya finally made his way outside, but to his disappointment, the mysterious maiden was already gone. However, he soon discovered Sakura's glass slipper sitting on the stairs. He picked it up and looked at it, thinking of the beautiful stranger who had stolen his heart. Suddenly, he smiled. The slipper had given him an idea.

A proclamation was soon decalred that Prince Kazuya will only marry the maiden whose feet fit the slipper made of glass. The next morning, he tried the slipper on the feet of all the ladies in the land. Unfortunately, he had no luck. For the glass slipper would fit no one else, except for its ture owner. Then the Prince came to the last house on his search: the house of Sakura Haruno. His guard knocked on the door and Lady Hinako and her daughters answered it. They excitedly smiled when they met the young man's gaze.

"Prince Kazuya! What a surprise!" Reika happily gasped.

"Please come in. I suppose you've come to make the wedding arrangements for me or my sister to be your new wife?" Fujiko asked before flipping her hair.

"What?! No!" Prince Kazuya nervously exclaimed, shaking his head. "When I find the one whose feet fit this slipper, then she'll be my wife. But I've tried just about everybody else in the kingdom and I'm exhausted. So...it must be one of you!"

"Of course, Prince Kazuya! Come with us, please!" Reika cried as she pulled the Prince inside.

"Yeah, yeah! Let's just have a quick look at that shoe," Fujiko added.

"Yes, Your Highness. I'm sure either of my two gorgeous daughters will be able to slip on it for you. I promise," Lady Hinako said.

The guard tried the slipper on Reika, but it was too small for her big foot. Then the guard tried the slipper on Fujiko, but it was too small for her big foot too. Prince Kazuya sighed and rubbed his head in exasperation, thinking all hope was lost.

"Are there any other girls in the house?" he asked, hoping for a 'yes.'

"No," Lady Hinako answered smugly while her two daughters shook her heads.

But just as the Prince was about to leave with a broken heart, he heard a voice he didn't recognize call out, "Don't listen to her, she's lying! There's Sakura Haruno!"

It was the voice of Sakura's Fairy Godmother, Kaede. Prince Kazuya abruptly stopped in his tracks and looked back at Lady Hinako and her daughters with a stern look in her eyes.

"I ask you again: is there someone else in this house?" he asked, rasing a suspicious eyebrow.

"Um...Oh, no, no, no, Your Highness! I can assure you, there is no one else here," Lady Hinako lied, trying to keep her cool.

"With all due respect, madam, I wish to see for myself. Now, if you please..." Prince Kazuya calmly protested.

"But, Your Highness..."

"I said now!!"

"Uh, excuse me?" A familiar voice asked. "I don't mean to interrupt, but what's going on out here?"

Prince Kazuya, Lady Hinako, and her daughters turned their heads to see Sakura slowly peek her head out from behind sleeping beside the chimney once more and was covered in ashes and soot, making her look nothing like the mysterious princess from the Gala the night before. But even under the dusty and dirty exterior, the young woman look radiant to Prince Kazuya. He smiled as he approached her.

"Are you Sakura Haruno?" he asked with a hopeful look in his eyes.

"Yes, I am," she asnwered, nodding her head.

"Oh please, Your Highness, be real here!" Lady Hinako said, trying to block Sakura with her leg. "This dirty, filthy, mucky little creature is the child my late husband left behind. It couldn't be her."

"Uh-huh! Plus, she wasn't even at tha Gala!" Fujiko commented.

"Yeah! Don't even think about it! She's revolting!" Reika added.

"I said in my proclamation that every madien in the land has to try on the slipper!" Prince Kazuya shouted, with his tone stern and calm at the same time.

"Uh... Oh fine," Lady Hinako grumbled, letting her stepdaughter pass through. "But I have to warn you, there's no point. You're just wasting your time."

"Yeah. The shoe probably won't fit even if you tried," Reika commented.

"She's not even worth it," Fujiko added.

"I'll be the judge of that. May I?" Prince Kazuya asked Sakura as he held out his hand.

"Oh, yes. Of course," Sakura shyly said, taking the Prince's hand and stepping forward.

So Prince Kazuya took the glass shoe and offered it to the young woman and to his surprise, it slipped onto Sakura's foot with ease. It fits perfectly! Lady Hinako, Reika, and Fujiko gasped and their eyes widened in shock at the sight.

"No!!" Fujiko cried.

"It can't be!!" Lady Hinako wailed.

"That's impossible!!" Reika screeched.

"It is you...isn't it?" The Prince asked, looking up at Sakura.

"Just so," Sakura simply said, taking out her other glass slipper and putting it on.

Prince Kazuya held Sakura's hands in his own and smiled at her.

"I've searched the whole day for you. Will you be my wife?" he asked.

"Yes, I will...that is, if you'll take me as I am."

"Of course I will. How could I not?"

Prince Kazuya wrapped his arms around Sakura before they both shared a sweet, romantic kiss, all while Lady Hinako, Reika, and Fujiko were glaring at them with malice and disbelief.

And so, Sakura's dream had finally come true. She and the Prince were married and she became a princess, never having to take orders and do chores ever again. As for Lady Hinako and her daughters, even though they apologized, begged, and pleaded to be allowed into the castle with Sakura, an order was quickly sent, saying that Lady Hinako Masuda, Reika Masuda, and Fujiko Masuda were to leave the kingdom at once and to never set foot in the land again. And so, Sakura Haruno and Prince Kazuya Watanabe lived happily ever after.

[raebaekaedae]

Volume One, Episode Twelve: “Brave Face”

Series: SCWR Rating: PG-13 (Foul Language, Minor Violence, Excessive Violence Mentioned, Drugged, Death Mentioned, Themes of Self-Blame, Prominent Themes of Depression, Prominent Themes of Grief/Grieving, Prominent Themes of PTSD) Summary: (3,905 words) “It’s time for the Vytal Festival Dance! You know what that means... Teenage Drama! Haddy finds out that he has a fan, Qrow and Summer try to kick him out of the Singles Club, Robyn and Ryder managed to start a dance-off, and it seems like Monroe’s actually have a decent time! How ever will things go wrong??”

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The dance certainly wasn't what he expected. Somehow, on top of their school work, mystery missions from Ozpin-- that Qrow had accidentally spilled the beans on after Haddy found out about his criminal past-- and extracurriculars, Team STRQ managed to plan the entire event. Summer had designed everything around a gothic masquerade with Raven's help. Tai had wanted a smoke machine, so the girls managed to work it in for ambiance.

Haddy was amazed by the beautiful decorations as he walked into the room. Candelabras flickered with dim light on various, black-clothed tables that were set with finger foods and drinks. The walls were lined with black, red, and gold curtains that draped down from the ceiling where a beautiful, candle chandelier hung. Balloons of the same colors bopped around in the mist near the floor as the dance music thumped. There was a black, velvet carpet leading from the door up to a podium where Qrow stood, greeting guests with his onyx, victorian coat and feathered bird mask.

As he approached, the masked host widened his arms and said, "Haddy! Cutting it a little close, aren't you?"

The husky laughed as he stood in front of the podium, "I had to finish my mask."

He wasn't wearing anything too flashy. When he left Mantle, he'd managed to bring some of his clothes, including a dark one-piece suit and bowtie that he wore on special occasions. With the base of his costume down, he crafted a simple, black, Venetian mask with silver, wing-tipped eyes and trim. He spent some extra lien to get a thick, gray ribbon that slightly shimmered for the tie.

Qrow whistled lowly as Haddy did a little spin. The victorian host smiled, "Looks sweet, man!" He paused before he added, "You're the last person to arrive, which means that I can finally get away from this podium!"

As the crow-haired teen stepped out from behind his post, he extended an arm for his best friend to loop his hand into so they could walk together. Haddy laughed as he rested his palm into the crook of Qrow's elbow, and the pair entered the fray of the party.

The center of the room had been cleared for space to dance in the ambiently lit, ankle-deep fog. Dozens of students from all four kingdoms conversed and partied in a sea of suits, dresses, and masks. It was hard to get a read on anyone, but the overall atmosphere was jovial and fun.

The pair took up spots near one of the juice bars. The regal dance music changed to an upbeat pop as Haddy withdrew his hand and poured two drinks for himself and Qrow. When he turned back to return to his dark-haired friend, he was instead met with the small figure of a girl. She was looking up at him, amazed.

Her cerulean hair was styled into a pixie cut. A pair of floppy, dog ears sprouted from her glittery, crown-like mask as she stared up at him with those baby blues. Her dress was a dark shade of that same blue and was strapless. The skirt portion was cut short and frilled out with a sparkling, transparent fabric over top of a gradienting layer, and it was held up with a thin, silver belt that was tied into a looping bow. She had to be a first-year, given her tiny stature.

Haddy took a half-step back, after almost knocking into the younger girl when he turned around. Embarrassed, he chuckled, "Whoops! Sorry! I didn't see you there."

When she didn't do anything but awe at him, he felt a bead of sweat forming on his temple. He awkwardly continued, "Uh... Sorry, again... I'm--"

"Hadrian Snow..." she cut in, almost breathlessly.

He took another half-step back as his tail brushed up to the drink table. He drew out, "Riiiiight... and you are...?"

She replied with starstruck eyes, "Blue, sir... Bella Blue..."

"Sir?" He asked with a raised brow beneath his mask.

When she didn't respond, he slowly nodded as he side-stepped around the table, saying, "Well. It was nice meeting you, Blue..."

Haddy backed up a few paces with the drinks in his hand. Once he was a couple steps away, he nodded to the strange girl before turning on his heel and hurrying back to Qrow. Summer had joined him with a punch of her own and a simple white dress with a red underside, much like her cloak. The pair of dark-haired teens joked as the husky joined them, looking over his shoulder to see the faunus girl in blue gone.

"What took you so long?" Qrow asked with a smile, taking one of the drinks.

The husky rubbed the back of his head, still looking for the girl, as he replied, "There was just this... weird girl. I dunno..."

The crow-haired host raised a brow beneath his feathers and remarked, "Ooh? You looking for a date?"

Haddy deadpanned over to him, causing both him and Summer to laugh. He rolled his eyes as he replied, "Oh ha ha..." he paused, giving the room one last once over before he continued, "You know I couldn't get a date, even if I tried."

Qrow threw his arms over both Summer's and Hadrian's shoulders, almost spilling his drink as he laughed, "Single Solidarity!"

The trio chuckled as the host pulled back and extended his cup out in front of him. Both Summer and Haddy clinked their glasses to his as they celebrated their datelessness. As the night went on, they stuck together, watching the other students dance while they joked around about the absurdities of the entire dance.

There was some shouting, which drew the husky's attention. He easily spotted the hulking figure of Ryder in his deep yellow blazer with dark brown patches on the elbows. He was wearing a jester's mask as he danced like an idiot. Beside him, Haddy caught a glimpse of red, guessing it was Robyn, with her own mask adorned with flowers. The pair had a small circle cheering them on as their laughter danced through the air. He was pretty sure he saw Professor Cray's signature pink locks shouting from the sidelines. Somehow, they'd started a dance-off. The R's laughed at one another, and he was happy that they'd come together.

But that was when Haddy's wandering eyes found themselves on a break in the crowd. His heart skipped a beat as he found himself staring at the back of a girl across the room. Her blonde hair was tied up in a bun wrapped up with a braid. Her teal dress was backless, her chest covered up with a high neckline that wrapped around her throat. The skirt of her dress was rippled, cut shorter in the front to show off the pale water texture dancing on the underside of the fabric. In her hand, she held a stick that was connected to a light blue, lace Venetian mask with white rhinestones over the lashes.

As she turned, continuing with her conversation with some random student, the mask lowered, revealing her beautiful brown eyes; so full of joy with a childlike twinkle. The lines of her cheeks turned into the first genuine smile since they'd met... slightly cocked and showing off her dimples... The smell of fresh rain filled his nose...

Monroe...

He jumped when Qrow waved his hand in front of his face, saying, "Remnant to Haddy? Do you read?"

"What?" he exclaimed, hoping that his cheeks just felt hot or that his blush was-- at the very least-- hidden beneath his mask.

Unfortunately, he didn't notice his rapidly wagging tail. Qrow smirked, elbowing him as he goaded, "See something you like?"

Now he knew he was blushing. He reached back and held his tail straight. Qrow and Summer laughed as he tried to form words and couldn't.

Their female companion, all-knowing as ever, smiled, "Y'know, Cadie doesn't have a drink."

"Cade, huh?" Qrow smirked, poking his best friend's ribs.

The husky batted his hands away as the bright blush spread beneath his mask. He scoffed, "She just looks pretty tonight, okay. I've never seen her in anything other than pajamas, her uniform, or her pirate costume!"

Summer smiled, putting a hand on his shoulder as she asked, "It's okay, Haddy."

"You sure that's the only reason?" Qrow smirked.

Haddy pouted at the pair before he sighed, "She just looks so..." he paused, finding the right word as he turned to look at Monroe again, "... happy."

She was wearing similar makeup to her normal attire, with a lighter turquoise lipstick and pearlescent pink blush. The bangs of her hair were pulled to the side and curled to reveal all her features. A beautiful silver necklace with a matching compass rose rested against the front of her chest. She wore dangling earrings of varying lengths of silver chains. He could see Leo's emblem peeking out from inside her ears. She was wearing his comms to keep out the distractions of the party.

When she smiled and laughed again, he felt his heart jump to his throat. He silently wished that he had been the one making the jokes she enjoyed so much. His face suddenly felt like it was on fire as he looked away and forced his drink up to his lips as a distraction. As he turned his gaze away to turn to Qrow and Summer, he found them staring at him with slack jaws and eyes as big as saucers.

"Oh my Gods..." his best friend managed to push out, "You got it bad."

As if his face wasn't red enough already.

Quickly Summer turned around and poured another cup of punch before she pushed it into Hadrian's empty hand. As he was realizing what she was doing, Summer had already turned him around and pushed him out onto the dance floor towards Monroe. He whipped his head around to see both her and Qrow giving him the biggest shit-eating grins and silent encouragement.

He silently cursed them as he turned back towards the blonde. With a confidence-boosting deep breath, he willed his legs to walk forward. There were ten-thousand things rushing through his head, none of them coherent. He was about halfway to her when the music died down and the sound of a mic turning on gathered the attention of the dancing students.

Everyone's eyes turned up to the raised portion of the stage where Headmaster Ozpin was standing in a dim spotlight. He spoke, "Welcome, students from all kingdoms. Today we stand together... united...

"... Mistral... Atlas... Vacuo... Vale..." he continued, "Together we are stronger than any force that would try to force our defeat. This year's Vytal festival, however, will be a few students less than years past. We would like to dedicate this moment to honor those who gave their lives for others..."

A screen behind the professor softly illuminated, displaying the picture of a smiling face on it. Staring down at him was Peri Vasilikós. He was wearing his Beacon uniform and a pearly, white smile on his face. His royal purple hair was waved and pushed back to reveal his silvered eyes, shining with hope and passion.

The pictures of the late leader from Prosciutto's hideaway suddenly came rushing back to him. The one with just him and Monroe most prevalent, their cheeks brushing against one another. What did he think he was doing? Clearly the two were close, and here he was trying to take that away from her. He mentally slapped himself in the face as he pushed down his own heartbreak, surprised that the spur-of-the-moment decision had affected him so much.

"Pericles Vasilikós," Professor Ozpin said in his calm monotone, "Known as Peri to his friends. He is survived by his teammates; Cascade Monroe, Robyn Wyndham, and Ryder Flaxen."

For a brief moment, Haddy thought that would be it. That he wouldn't have to put on a brave facade and face truths that he had been lying to himself about for months. He had already turned his head to start his walk back to Qrow and Summer when he heard Ozpin's voice again.

"Ollie Ombre."

Hadrian felt his blood run cold. He froze, his joints locked and stiff. A cold sweat started rolling over his body as he let out a shaky breath. Against his better judgment, he turned his eyes back to the screen. The drinks hit the floor before he even had time to register that he'd loosened his grip.

A farm girl stared back at him and the smell of fresh hay filled his memory.

She had hair as red as Robyn's that gradually tapered into a pink and was secured in two, braided pigtails that rested on her shoulders and chest. Her nose was upturned at the end and covered in freckles. One of her collie ears was flopped over while the other stood at attention. Her cerulean eyes bore into him.

In a flash, Haddy saw her. She had just barely managed to push Bēju out of the way. She was laying face down in the crimson snow. The stench of blood tore at his nostrils. Her overalls and plaid shirt were torn with thick claw marks, leaving her skin and spine broken into pieces. Her chest heaved out one last, broken exhale before stilling. The rope of her pitchfork weapon was frayed and torn, just like her body; one half still in her grasp.

Ozpin's voice brought him back to the present.

"Tadashi Bēju."

Beside her-- as always-- the tanned skin of Bēju was stark against his platinum blond hair, shaved on the sides and short on top where it was swept back. The distinct mix of shoe polish and earthy smells mixing resurfaced in Hadrian's mind. He didn't smile often, and school picture day was no exception. His dark eyes were narrowed on the crowd as an air of seriousness waved off him. Those black eyes were digging into him.

He was standing over her, one arm already broken, and bleeding from a large gash in his head. He had tears streaming down his cheeks as a scream of rage tore through the howling wind. Suddenly, two of the grimm were on top of him, clawing into his chest. He stabbed into them with his one good katar, but it was futile. His dark eyes glazed slowly as he suffered, neck lolling to the side lifelessly.

He felt like everyone was staring at him, judging him. His chest heaved and cracked as tears threatened to run down his face. Thousands of guilty thoughts he'd done so well to hide beneath lies that he'd begun to believe himself screamed at him so loud he almost didn't hear.

"Leon Onyx."

Leo had always looked so happy. That happiness that he'd craved from Monroe bit at him as his brother's blue eyes stared down at him. He was smiling to hide how just how anxious he was. His hair was shorter than Haddy's and pushed back on his head, secured with a clip. His canine ears were laying flat on his head, a nod to his nervousness about attending the elite school. He had always smelled so happy, like freshly baked caramel on a cold day.

That was when he heard Leo's scream. He'd watched his two best friends die in front of him. Out of desperation, he drew Sled into its picks and charged the Alpha. He jumped at it, angry tears streaking through the hail and wind. It caught him by his face, muffling his screams as it drew its maw to his throat and shook him like a ragdoll... until he was still and silent. When it dropped him as if he were nothing, Haddy couldn't tear his teary eyes away from the horribly bent angle of his brother's bloody and open neck.

"They are survived by their leader, and brother; Hadrian Snow."

He was pushing through the crowd before his mind had any more time to register the Memoriam. He threw students and teachers alike to the side. He didn't care. He had to escape their eyes. There were shouts for him to stop, but he refused. He threw open the doors to the dance and jumped into the chilly night air. He didn't stop, activating his semblance and doing the one thing he was good at; leaving everyone behind.

Hot tears rolled down his face, catching on the brim of his mask before flowing over. He couldn't stop himself as his legs propelled him into the starless night. He hiccuped and sobbed, unable to catch his breath until he came to a skidding halt at the edge of the Academy. He looked over into the somber, moonlit city of Vale.

Before he could stop himself, his knees gave out. He was sitting on his butt, hugging his legs as he just sobbed. He was alone. No matter how hard he tried to stop himself, he couldn't silence his howling cries. The faces of his team glared down at him from the stars, tear-stained and bloody. He wanted nothing more than to give his life for theirs. He wasn't like Peri, he didn't die for his team; they died for him.

"Hadrian?"

For just a moment, he thought they had called down to him. But as he whimpered at the sound of the soft voice behind him, he squeezed his eyes shut and buried his snotty face into his arms.

After a moment, Monroe gently put a hand on his slumped shoulder. She sat down beside him, hanging her legs off the edge of the floating school courtyard. He refused to look up as Robyn rubbed soft circles into his back with her thumb, sitting down on his other side. Even Ryder was gentle with him as a calloused hand came to lightly rest in Hadrian's black hair, tenderly smoothing it.

"If I'm being honest..." the blonde said after a moment, examining the mask in her hand, "I'm... sad. Depressed, really, I think is the better word... I miss Peri more than anything in the world, and I'm scared that I can't be the leader he was. He was everything to me, and I can't even imagine living without him, so now that he's gone... I just don't know what to do with myself..." Gently, she let the mask slip from her grasp, letting it fall away to the streets below.

Haddy sniffled, wiping his eyes on his sleeve as he looked up into her chocolate eyes. She was crying. Her beautiful make-up ran down her cheeks in dyed rivers as she somberly smiled, looking out into the night.

Robyn was next as she loosened her mask, pulling it from her face as she chuckled, "I hide my sadness behind witty one-liners and jokes, because if he were still here, I know he'd be trying to make me feel better by doing the same. He was a great guy like that. Even though he was the one who got killed, he'd be trying to make us feel better..." She clutched her mask tightly before tossing it as far as she could.

"I'm angry," Ryder said solemnly, taking off his own mask, "We all 're hidin' our feelin's b'cause we don' wanna drag tha oth'rs down. I'm angry, 'cause 'e died f'r no reason... 'e died 'cause some bitch want'd 'im to." He sighed, letting the mask fall towards Vale.

They didn't look at him with expectations or prying eyes. Together, they all sat, watching the broken moon rise over the dark sky. Monroe and Haddy continued to quietly cry deep into the night. After a while, he finally wept himself into exhaustion and his tears dried on his cheeks.

As midnight came and went, he tugged the silver ribbon of his mask loose and held it in his hands. He whispered, his voice too hoarse from sobbing to be any louder, "I'm... guilty...

"I tried so hard to be the best I could for them, but it didn't matter. When we came to face a real challenge, I faltered... and they paid the price... even my mom won't talk to me. Leo and I wouldn't have been there if I hadn't pushed so hard for us to become Huntsmen... just to be like a man who abandoned us.

"I wish I could take it all back... I wish I never lied to you guys or myself... I wish I never took that stupid mission... I wish I never pushed them to go the extra two miles... but, they wouldn't want me to say that... we saved so many lives with that cure. I'd like to think they'd be proud of me for carrying on and trying to get my License... but, what do I know..."

Robyn leaned her head over on his shoulder as he finished. She sadly smiled, "Haddy... we knew the whole time."

"You did?" He asked, too exhausted to be bewildered, looking down at her.

She nodded, "Ozpin told us everything, just like he told you about what happened with Peri. We wanted you to be ready before you told us, so we didn't bring it up."

Hadrian wiped his cheeks with his suit sleeve, which was absolutely drenched with tears. After a minute, he sighed, "I feel like I cheated you guys out of the dance..."

"Eh..." the blonde shrugged, "I wasn't having that great of a time anyway."

He knew she was lying, and he thought she knew that he did as well. Haddy smiled and leaned his shoulder into hers, and surprisingly enough, she leaned back. He looked down at the mask he'd so painstakingly crafted for himself, before he tossed it over the edge of the abyss. A gentle breeze took the silver ribbon and guided it out of sight.

They stayed there for a few more moments before Ryder took off his blazer and wrapped it around Robyn, who was shivering in the autumnal air. She smiled up at him through chittering teeth. The blonde chuckled as Haddy nudged the redhead with his knee. Monroe was also shaking, so Haddy pulled off his jacket and extended it out to her. Cade smiled when she took it.

"C'mon," the husky said, motioning for his friends to get up with him, "Let's go back inside."

Maybe it was the cold, maybe it was the noise dampeners Hadrian had given her, maybe it was the sense of peace she had on campus, but Monroe didn't hear the cocking of the gun until it was too late. Her eyes widened as she turned in slow motion, arm half in the husky's jacket as she raised it to block him. He was already standing and turned towards the sound.

The hairs on the back of his tail were raised as a low growl echoed in his chest. He didn't like people pointing guns at him or his friends. In the short instant he had, he charged his aura, readying for a fight as he knelt in front of Robyn and Ryder as a shield. He knew Monroe would sense the danger.

There was an explosion of gunpowder and then there was a dart sticking out of his bicep. He looked down in disbelief. It should have bounced right off his aura, but it sunk deep into his arm. Before he could figure out what happened, the serum plunged into his veins and he felt light. His mind spun around as his knees fell out from beneath him.

Suddenly he was falling as the world around him darkened. He watched as his friends moved further down his vision as he tumbled over the edge of the school and hurtled towards the city of Vale. The only thing left was the smell of Monroe's makeup lingering in his nose and her echoing screams for him.

[southern-jellybean]

Caedyn bit back the celebratory whoop that rose in his throat. He had just gotten a second chance he didn't need to go ruining it already.

"Understood, Miss. Thank you, Miss!" He moved to help her secure the necklace around her neck. "You won't be sorry, Miss. I promise!"

Once he had finished helping her he hurried off to change. Making sure to dress in his best he looked himself over in the mirror. His black hair smoothed back, he put on his best coat. He sighed, gazing at himself happily but his brow slowly knit together. He was small, so small in fact he was often mistaken for a child, though he did act like it sometimes, he was on the cusp of 21. His last few years of life being spent with her. What a good few years they had been. Better than they would have been on his own. Caedyn doubted he would have lived this long on his own. Checking the time he then hurried his way out of his room and down the stairs. He patiently waited by the door but not before opening it and checking outside. Sniffing, he noticed a damp in the air and grabbed himself and umbrella for later just in case.

Caedyn perked up, eyes alight. “I won’t this time. I’ll be good! I promise.” He cringed inwardly. I’ll be good? Only she could ever draw words like this from him. “I-I was just bored but I know what to expect now. I’ll stand up straight and and I won’t giggle.” Damn his and his horrible habit of giggling. It was awful. The only thing that gave away that he’d tripped the butler was his damn giggle. He couldn’t have stopped if it he tried. It rose like bile in his chest and bubbled through his fingers that he’d clapped over his mouth. Caedyn never wanted to experience a room full of eyes on him ever again, in that aspect at least. “Please take me with you. You won’t be sorry. Please?” 

[stellamai]

A sense of community

Something crunches and slides under his foot as Neil steps into the apartment on Sunday evening and he has to grasp wildly for the door handle to prevent himself smacking his head on the hardwood flooring. All the lights are off, meaning that Andrew isn't home yet and the cats probably haven't been fed.

Sure enough, King appears a second later, trotting around the corner and making a beeline for Neil's legs, winding around them as if to trip him up a second time. He shuts the door and crouches down, stroking her absently as he peers at the offending slippery object. It's a flyer of some kind, probably pushed under the door by one of their neighbours, advertising a street fair.

Neil skims the information as he wanders into the kitchen to refill the cats' food. There's a form on the back of the flyer for people who want to apply for a stall, and an option to contribute some baked goods to a community stall which will raise money for 'the most innovative neighbourhood scheme' pitched at the fair.

Neil hears the door click as Andrew arrives home, and rushes to show him the flyer.

"A street fair," says Andrew, sounding wholly unimpressed.

"You could bake something," says Neil, gesturing out to the balcony where Andrew has been growing various fruits and vegetables in large pots. "The raspberries are ripening up; you could make pies."

"Is this about your stupid Exy club idea?" asks Andrew, scanning the information on the sheet. "How far would the proceeds from a measly stall at a street fair go towards that?"

"Well, no," replies Neil. "I just think it would be nice for you to share your baking skills with everybody."

"You sound like Renee."

"But," continues Neil, unperturbed, "that plot of land at the end of the road just went on sale, where Mr Jones used to keep those tiny goats -"

"Pygmy goats."

"Right. And I just think it would be nice to have something better than that run down park to keep the local kids occupied."

"There's already an Exy club at the local school, and it’s open to anyone under the age of eighteen,” says Andrew. "I asked Mrs Parkinson about it."

Neil sighs, expression falling into one of dejection. "Oh."

Andrew stares out at the balcony, regarding his improvised vegetable patch with a bored stare. "But okay, I'll bake something. I want to see what everyone else has to offer."

Neil smiles, knowing Andrew's thinking of all the cakes, brownies and pastries that will be available. "Joan's Chelsea buns can't hold a candle to your Battenberg cake."

Andrew rolls his eyes and steps closer. "The Battenberg was a one-off. Nicky wanted the same cake for his wedding as Prince Louis had."

"Nicky has an unhealthy obsession with German princes," chuckles Neil, altering his accent slightly as he leans close to Andrew. "Nevertheless, Joan's European baked goods are mere imitations compared to yours."

Andrew shivers slightly, as he can’t help but do on the rare occasion Neil puts on his mother's English accent, and pulls Neil in for a kiss.

"By the way," murmurs Neil. "Welcome home."

~

By the day of the street fair, Neil has told practically everyone in their building about Andrew's baking efforts. He couldn't help it; every time someone mentioned the street fair he had to tell them to visit the community stall to try his husband's pies. Andrew used to say that Neil could only think about Exy, and maybe that was true until he suddenly had a life outside of it. Now that he has a whole future to contend with, he knows there's so much more to be proud of than winning an Exy game.

There’s a steady stream of people visiting the community stall all morning, buying goods and submitting ideas for the neighbourhood initiative the funds from the stall will go towards. Neil sees Andrew slip his own application into the pile, and smiles widely enough that Andrew pushes his face away in disgust.

Neil just laughs and flags down two young girls who have been eyeing the raspberry pies for about five minutes.

“Would you like to try one?” he asks. “This one’s a bit uneven so I’ll give it to you for free.” He stops and glances exaggeratedly towards Andrew before turning to whisper conspiratorially to the girls, “Don’t tell Andrew I said that. He’s very particular about quality control.”

The smaller of the two girls pauses at the sight of Andrew.

“Aren't you Andrew Minyard?" she asks, forehead creasing in confusion as she looks between him and Neil. "But aren't you two ... like ... enemies?"

The taller girl next to her whacks her arm lightly. "They're on the same teams, dummy."

The smaller girl scowls. "Yeah, but they're always shouting up and down the court at each other."

Her friend shrugs and crosses her arms. "So what? My mum and dad shout at each other a lot too, and they're not standing a hundred yards away from each other. It doesn't mean they're not in love."

Neil can tell Andrew's been getting bored with the conversation, but his head tilts slightly towards the girls at that last remark.

The smaller of the two gapes, then points between Andrew and Neil frantically, lowering her voice to an exaggerated and not-at-all-subtle whisper. "They're in love?!"

The other girl rolls her eyes. "Well, duh."

"I'll tell you a secret," says Neil, taking pity on the young girl. "When I'm shouting down the court at Andrew, it's not because I'm mad at him."

"Apart from that time when I didn’t pick up cat food before the game so we had to drive around searching for a 24-hour supermarket at midnight,” says Andrew, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.

Now it's Neil's turn to roll his eyes. "Apart from then." He turns back to the girl. "Usually, we're just messing with our teammates by having conversations in Russian. It's like our own secret language on the court." Neil feels a soft smile spread unbidden across his face.

"See," mutters the taller girl, gesturing to Neil's smile. "I told you they were in love."

The other girl still looks sceptical, but takes the pie Neil offers her gladly.

Neil doesn’t miss the way Andrew watches carefully for her reaction when she takes a bite, and he turns away quickly before Andrew can notice his fond grin.

~

“Congratulations to our winner, Mr Minyard-Josten of Bellevue Terrace,��� says Mrs Jones jovially, handing over an enormous novelty cheque displaying the sum of the proceeds of the community stall that will go towards his project. She’s already announced his winning idea to the assembled crowd, and Neil is proudly telling everyone how Andrew grew the raspberries for the pies himself.

“I tried to grow French beans last year and they shrivelled up within a week,” says a forlorn Madame Picard. “That’s very impressive, Andrew.”

Andrew is looking on passively while holding a giant stick of candy floss and acting as if he’s not paying attention, but Neil can tell by his eyes and the set of his mouth that he's pleased.

“A community allotment?” asks Neil later, a small grin tugging at the old scars on his cheekbones.

“Well, your Exy idea was stupid,” replies Andrew, as if it explains everything.

And suddenly, Neil gets it. Andrew took Neil’s failed idea and turned it into something else. Something positive for the community and for himself. Something he could be proud of, and that Neil could be proud of him for rather than dwelling on his own failures. It was a kind of metaphor for their lives, Neil mused, this thing that would start small and grow into something impactful and wonderful. And as he regards Andrew’s calm expression while he sets out ready-made designs on the dining room table, he wonders just how long Andrew has been planning this.

He wonders if Andrew had spoken to Bee about it - this new idea that he’d started to care about. Whether it scared him, excited him, whether he’d felt joy when the plan came to fruition.

“Was it worth it?” he asks softly, as he considers what may have lay under Andrew’s mask of detachment.

Andrew looks at him, processing and understanding the question, before nodding and pressing his palms more firmly - determinedly - onto the designs now spread out before them. Neil can see a thousand dreams behind his eyes and for a man who’s not used to dreaming, that must be a terrifying thing. “It will be.”

[oyesmendes]

love is just a word - 4

a/n: I HAVE NOTHING TO SAY other than i’m sorry for whats about to happen :) 

masterlist is here!

read part three here

Azerbaijan 2021

 You nearly lose all your nails watching the race. It was halfway through the season, and you were now standing in the middle of the Alpha Tauri garage, your brows knitted together as you watch the last lap of the race. Your eyes are glued to the screen — 

The white and blue car crosses the chequered flag. P3. 

“What did we do?!" you hear Pierre shout over the radio. 

“We fucking did it! We fucking did it!" The garage erupts into cheers and shouting, everyone hugging each other. You were included in the arms of the mechanics and engineers. P fucking 3. The team makes their way to the parc ferme, and they let you take the front, center most position. You had become one of them over the course of the season, spending more time with them during race weekends than actually being with your boyfriend. They enjoyed your presence as well, it brought sunshine to the garage and somehow with you, there was always laughter, always something to celebrate. You're smiling from ear to ear watching Pierre get out of the car and congratulating his fellow drivers who were on the podium with him. He's scanning the crowd soon after and there he sees you in the middle of the sea of white and blue. You see his eyes crinkle when he lifts his visor and he’s running toward you, both of your chests crashing into each other.  

"i'm so proud of you, amor." you hold his helmeted head in your hands. 

"i couldn't have done it without you." you tap his helmet a couple more times and let him go off to his team. you're grinning stupidly at the cameras around you. this was the first time you and him had been so public since Bahrain, so it was definitely a treat for the fans and the media. 

he stood on the podium, so proud of what he's accomplished so far this year; and you couldn't help but beam with pride. he blows you a kiss and a wink, which you playfully catch in front of the hundreds of cameras. when he comes down from the podium, you're right into his arms again. 

"so so proud of you, mi amor. Te quiero mucho." 

"je t'aime, ma belle. je t'aime."

You both hear the whoops and hollers from the team, and Pierre is making his way to them again, pumping the trophy in his hand. You lingered behind, looking around the area. Daniel spotted you from afar, giving you a thumbs up and a big smile. He wasn't the person you were looking for. 

You hadn’t seen Carlos all weekend, only knowing that he finished P8 during the race. You would be lying if you said you didn't try to spot him. In fact, you'd been lingering in the parc ferme after every race just to get a glimpse of him, even if it was just his back view.    

It had been three weeks since he came up to you and Pierre in Monaco to apologise for the words shared between you and him. You forgave him, and uttered the same apology back. Even though things fell back into normalcy between you and him, you now spent more time with Pierre than Carlos. It felt right, to be by the side of the person you love while they chased their dreams. This was what you always wanted to do, and it looked like your dream was suddenly turning into reality. Or so you thought. 

-

Madrid, Spain

“You nervous?” Your fingers were intertwined with Pierre’s as you made the short walk from the car to the front door of the Sainz household. 

“Not as nervous as when I met your parents.” He takes the bouquet of flowers the both of you chose from your hands. You laugh when the memory crosses your mind again of Pierre’s leg bouncing uncontrollably in the car on the way to dinner with your family. He was definitely way too nervous for that one, stumbling over his words and being slightly intimidated by your brothers. But you couldn't blame him, you parents had decided to spring a surprise on you, since you hadn't gone home this year, and they caught the both of you smooching in hotel lobby (I know, how embarrassing). Your mother made you promise to come home to Madrid to visit the Sainz family at the dinner table, and although reluctant, you agreed to her request. 

So here you are, standing in front of the familiar door you grew up running through. You snuggle closer to Pierre after knocking on the door. He mutters a string of french under his breath, and before you could get a word in to calm him, the front door swings open. 

“My little castaña!" Reyes embraced you in a hug. you laughed as she squeezed you tightly, not wanting to let you go. When she finally pulls away from you, she eyes you up and down. the soft expression on her face says it all and you understood. after not coming home to Madrid for three years, a lot has changed about you and she was just soaking it all in. 

“It’s nice to see you again, tía.” You tell her, and she nods, tears brimming in her eyes. You see Carlos Senior walking towards the door, taking his place next to his wife. He greets you with a warm hug, the ones you missed the most since you moved away. You’re all standing at the doorway, 

"now before your tía gets too emotional, tell me about this one," carlos sainz senior has his arm around your shoulder, the beer bottle in his other hand, pointing at the man standing next to you. Pierre had a sheepish smile on his face, both hands occupied with flowers and a bottle of aged wine. you put your arm around his waist, grinning at the pair who you call your second parents. 

“El es mi novio, Pierre.” Pierre, from his very few Spanish lessons with you, understood the sentence clearly and nods excitedly. Carlos Senior gives him a smirk before patting him on the shoulders. 

“So you're the one who’s stolen our castaña’s heart.” 

“Guilty as charged, señor.” This sends everyone into laughter, and you’re grateful that they all welcome him into their home. Carlos Senior and Reyes leave you two to settle in, taking the gifts from Pierre and preparing to set the table for dinner. Both of you are taking off your coats, when you spot Carlos walking down the steps. He sends you a soft smile in which you return. The both of you knowing how much it has taken for you to be standing in the Sainz household after the last few years. Carlos bounds off the last two steps, slow jogging towards you and Pierre. 

“Ah look who’s here!” He slaps Pierre on the back and ruffles your hair, which you return with a string on curse words in Spanish. The boys exchange hugs, and so do you and Carlos. 

“Welcome home, castaña." He whispers into your ear. 

The three of you make your way to the kitchen, Pierre already being five steps ahead as he follows the aroma of Reyes' famous paella. Carlos wraps his arm around your shoulder while you walk, pulling you close to him, “I’m glad you’re here.” 

“I know, chilli. I know.” When you enter the kitchen, you’re in awe of the spread Reye’s had put out for you and Pierre. Every single one of your favourite dishes were on the table, the Paella sitting nice and warm on the stove. carlos tries to sneak a bite in from one of the dishes and earns a slap on the arm even before he could reach it. 

“If you want to eat, you better help to set the plates out.” She warns him sternly. Carlos raises his hands to surrender, quickly making his way to the drawers to pull out some plates and utensils. You’re greeting piñon, who’s excitedly barking at you and Pierre. Blanca comes in next, hands full with a roast chicken which she sets down before embracing you. She then eyes Pierre, him awkwardly standing in place before she greets him and whisks him away for interrogation. 

He mouths for you to help him but you only laugh, watching as Blanca starts to question him about everything under the sun. The scene around your makes it seem as if time hasn’t passed at all, the familiarity of your childhood overwhelming your senses. 

“What time will Isa be here?” Carlos senior asks you as he hands you a glass of Sangria. 

“She said she would be-“ 

“Estoy aquí!”

“-right on time.” You laugh when you hear her shouting from the front door. Isa makes her way into the kitchen, greeting everyone. When she gets to you, she nearly jumps into your arms and you’re trying to prevent yourself from falling. 

"Y/N! Ahhh i missed you!" 

“I just saw you last week but… I miss you too I guess!” You joke, and Isa smacks you in the arm. 

“Alright, once you girls are done missing each other, I could use some help with this salad.” You both make your way to Reyes, who hands you all the ingredients for her infamous greek salad. You’re standing at the kitchen island, music playing in the background and chatter filling the air. Your mind ultimately goes back to the last memory you had of this home, and goosebumps rise on your skin. 

Isa bumps your shoulders which gets your attention, “I always thought he was quite handsome, you got a good one eh?" She nods towards Pierre. He had already fallen into place in the family, with piñon by his feet, begging for more scratches and belly rubs; Blanca was speaking with him enthusiastically, occasionally giving you a thumbs up and a wink from across the room. 

“Better than good, he’s the best.” You reply her, and Isa fake gags a little which makes you laugh. Pierre walks over when he catches you staring, and piñon is hot on his heels as well. He rests his head on your shoulders and you lean into him while you mixed the sauces.

“What are you girls talking about?” He dips his fingers into the bowl before licking them off, which earns him a smack on the head when Reyes caught him. He shoots her a cheeky grin in return. 

“About boys,” Isa tells him. He looks at you expectedly, but you avoid his eye contact, giggling slightly. 

“About me?” You shrug, which causes him to groan. 

“Its for me to know, and not for you to find out.” 

Dinner was obviously exceptional, with you and Pierre stuffing your faces with food. Your plate never seemed to be empty, as Reyes kept pilling more and more food as you ate. The conversations flowed easily, with you telling stories from the last three years, and Pierre narrating the story of his life to Carlos’ parents. Lots of laughter, jokes and tears of joy were shared, and you felt happy to be replacing the old memory of this house. 

When the meal ended and Reyes insisted that you do not help to clean up, instead getting you and Pierre to enjoy the cool night breeze on the roof top; you reluctantly obliged, and gave Pierre the full house tour after showing him the beautiful view it offered. 

"This is where Blanca and I used to hangout when I came over for sleepovers," you point to the room which is now occupied by a simulator, "Carlos overtook it when he got his F1 seat."

"Ooooh this rig is not too bad." Pierre pokes his head into the room. 

"yeah, took that cabrón two weeks to set it up. such a boomer." 

You’re making your way back down with him to fill your wine glasses, when you hear shouting down the corridor of the second floor. 

“Can you just stop it!” It was Carlos’s voice. Both you and Pierre stop outside the door that leads to the study.  

“What are you saying? You don’t want this anymore?” You hear Isa shout in Spanish. There’s silence on the other end, or Carlos’ end in this case, before the door swings open. Isa storms out of the room, moving too fast such that you couldn't stop her in time. The front door slams which makes you jump, but your attention goes back to Carlos, who’s sitting on the sofa, head buried in his hands. 

“Babe, could you-“ you turn to Pierre, then your eyes flickering to Carlos. You both had a nagging feeling about what had just gone down, and Pierre nods, squeezing your hand. You continue, “can you distract Carlos’ parents? They can’t find out about this, at least not now.” He nods again and kisses your cheek before making his way down. When you hear the chatter that occurs downstairs, you enter the room and close the door behind you. Carlos looks up at you. 

"what the hell was that about?" You question. 

"we broke up." Carlos states, almost too calmly. 

"you what-"

"did papa hear us?" He asks you. 

“I dont know.” You tell him. Carlo sighs loudly, and you take the seat from across him, “but I had Pierre go down to distract them, hopefully it does something.” 

“Okay good.” There’s an emptiness behind Carlos’ eyes, one that you don’t recognise. 

“Good?" You say sharply. "What kind of drugs are you on, Carlos? How are you still sitting here so calmly?” 

He doesn’t say a word, and you let him sit there in silence for a couple more moments. Carlos leans his head back, and you move closer towards him, sitting on the ground in front of him and squeezing his knee. 

“What’s going on, chilli? Why did you do that?” 

You weren’t expecting the next words to fall out of his mouth. 

“I miss us, Castaña. I miss you.” You were quick to stand up, taking a step back from Carlos. You couldn’t believe the words leaving his mouth right now. 

“That’s not right.” You mutter under your breath. His head drops, knowing very well that this was the reaction that he would’ve gotten. 

“In Baku, at the podiu-“ 

“No, no, no, no. Shut up.” You continue to repeat. You’re backing up away from him and Carlos stands to grip both your arms. He forces you to look into his eyes as he continues to speak, 

“When I saw you at the podium with Pierre, I realised my mistake. I want you to be there for me, the one that would greet me after each race, no matter good or bad. The one that I want to protect. Through hell and high water. You are the one that I want, Y/N.”

You squirm out of Carlos’ grip, folding your arms in front of you. 

“Its too late, Carlos.” 

“I know what I did. But I also know you’re still in love with me.” He says, almost proud that he knows he had some sort of hold on you, even if you were just hooked onto his pinky finger. You look at him, after all these years, you were finally getting what you wanted when you didn’t need it. You felt frustrated, and all you wanted to do was scream and shove him away. But you take a deep breath to calm yourself, your folded arms loosening to drop to your side.

You admit to something you’ve avoided for so long, “yes, I still love you Carlos. In fact, I always will love you. But god, this right now,” You point to the space between the two of you, 

“This is so inappropriate, so wrong. I’m happy now, Chilli. What was going through your head when you decided you wanted to tell me this? Did you think I was going to drop everything and run straight into your arms? Is that how easy you think I am?” 

Carlos shakes his head. 

“Then why? What are your intentions, Carlos?” 

“I- I don’t know.” He knows. He thought you would be easy, that you would fold for him. It was a selfish thought he admits, wanting you only for him. But he could no longer stand the fact that you were wrapped up in someone else’s arms. The three years you were gone, you were gone completely. Disappeared into thin air. He had no chance to grieve or reminisce as his career took flight alongside his new relationship, and you were buried in the back of his mind. 

Now that you were back, and with a new man, he didn't know how to act. Those feelings came over him like a tsunami, and he was entirely overwhelmed, which led to rash decisions like this. You still stood in front of him, tugging at the roots of your hair as the room filled with silence and growing tension. 

Carlos steps closer to you, taking your right hand into his. It fit perfectly. After all these years, your hands still fit like two correct puzzle pieces. You felt guilty, but your fingers instinctively intertwined with his. Your eyes are still focused on the hardwood floors below you, tracing every line like you did when you were a kid. He rests his head on top of yours, and you face is nearly buried in his chest - your nose brushing against the fabric of his T-shirt. 

That god damn Gucci scent. 

He uses his other hand to pull you closer to him, and you can hear his heart racing in his chest. This is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong. Your brain alarms you, but your body doesn’t move. Carlos still loves you, he still wants you. And a part of you wants him too. 

Then the door clicks. And both of you scramble to stand as far away from each other as possible.  

“Is everything alright?” Pierre stands in the doorway. Your gaze travels between the both of them. You nod, not taking a second look at Carlos before making your way towards Pierre. You don’t see it, but Carlos’ jaw tightens when you make your way to Pierre without looking back. Jealousy now bubbles in his chest. That should be him. Pierre leads you out of the room, holding your hand in his. You're looking down at it and it sure fits right - perfect and warm. You feel exactly the same as you did when you held Carlos' hand, in fact, you had the added feeling of butterflies in your stomach. 

Could you actually be in love with two people at the same time? Or was this a sick joke that cupid decided to play on you? 

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