#i tried to make them look like those slightly off stamps? idk

[scaredii-cat]

Some beautiful soft friends spotted @littleguymart !!!

[xiaodejunletsact]

i still love you | zhong chenle

word count: 17, 367

genre: high school!au, basketball!player, angst, fluff, you are a bet au??? lol idk 8 letters!au

warnings: lots of angst, playing of emotions, mentions of panic attacks and sex.

authors note: im finally back!! with a chenle fic!! okay so,, i wanted to thank everyone who loved 8 letters, the reaction to that fic was better than anything i could’ve ever imagined, so thank you so much!! this is like a chenle version from the same universe. but most importantly: i decided to put songs in some scenes to enhance the experience while reading, you don’t have to but if you want to listen to the ‘soundtrack’ of this fic click the ‘🏀’!!!!! please enjoy!! 

synopsis: high school can be complicated. thats why when your crush of three years, zhong chenle, approaches you out of nowhere offering to drive you home you are right to question his intentions.

🏀

You can hear the loud thumping of your heart in your ears as you watch the players dart across the court. The squeaking of their sneakers against the polished floor as they furrowed their eyebrows in concentration. Well… as he furrowed his eyebrows in anticipation, you wouldn’t know about the rest of the players on the court because your eyes were focused on one boy in particular. Number 22, Zhong Chenle. Your crush since sophomore year and soon to be captain of the basketball team (even if this is your personal opinion you’re 87% sure of it). The boy had caught your eye when he first smiled your way back in 10th grade and offered to help you with everything since you were new, leaving a stamp on your heart that would mark it as his own for the next years to come. Of course, you hardly ever spoke to him, too nervous and clumsy to even think of approaching someone so out of your league but there was something about his crinkly smile eyes and fluffy hair that got a hold of and never let go. 

Which is why you find yourself seated at the school’s bleachers watching the basketball game like you did every week, hands clutching the sides of the bench as you watched Chenle get the orange ball passed to him, and the scene plays in slow motion. 

Sweat drips off the tips of his newly dyed blond hair as he gains impulse with a jump, shooting a perfect three pointer and deeming the game of victory for his team. You proudly smile as you watch his teammates cause a ruckus around him, cheering and hitting him occasionally. However, your mood dampened as you watched Chenle escape the clutches of his team, running to the side benched where Ava, (the bitchiest girl in school but also his girlfriend), sat. He leans down to peck her lips, only to be stopped when she holds her hand up, pushing him away with a disgusting, “you’re sweaty!” He looks dejected for a second, before forcing a smile and turning back towards the team. You wonder if you’re the only one who noticed the interaction, you wonder if you’re the only one who cares enough to want to march down there and tell her off. You huff, instead opting to march your angry way to the entrance of the gym starting the trek home. Wondering if Number 22 will ever be yours like you desperately want him to.

-

It’s funny how much of your life you could dedicate to one person without any sort of reciprocation. You felt almost embarrassed as you shoved yet another letter into an envelope that increasingly got thicker and thicker with every burst of your emotions. You see, every time your feelings for Chenle got too strong to bare you would write short letters about how you felt, obviously, with no intention of Chenle ever getting his hands on them, just for your own catharsis. It helped, most days. 

Today is not one of those days. 

“Uh huh…” you said absentmindedly at your friend, Donghyuck , who tries to explain to you what intricate contraption they are building in this week's robotics class. However, you’re too busy looking over his shoulder at Chenle who laughs half heartedly at something his friend says, before going serious once again. You furrow your eyebrows and say, “have you noticed anything off about Chenle?” 

Donghyuck  sighs, knowing he has lost you once again. Nevertheless, he humors your narrative turning to watch the boy in question along with you. “I mean… he is kind of down.”

“Right?” You reply, shutting your locker and clicking the lock. Donghyuck  shrugs.

“Maybe it’s because he broke up with his girlfriend this weekend.” 

You stop dead in your tracks, “He did what?” 

Donghyuck  nods, (like it’s not a huge deal!) “at the party you missed this weekend, they got into a big fight and he told her it was over and stormed off.” 

“A-and you didn’t think to tell me this?” You respond to which he just shrugs.

“It’s not like you had a chance with him anyway.” 

“Ouch, Donghyuck .” 

The words stung, of course but you knew Donghyuck  was just being realistic with you, never one to lead you into things that could only hurt you in the future. 

Donghyuck  says something after that, that you don’t quite catch but you guess it’s fine since you didn’t really want to listen to him right now anyway. 

Especially since Zhong Chenle just caught you staring at him and is now staring just as intensely into your eyes as you were to the side of his face. 

You don’t know what kind of glitch you go through that you are unable to form any type of reaction or look away. Instead just kind of… freezing. 

He brings up a hand and slightly waves in your direction. A kind smile on his face. 

Oh no. He actually sees you. 

Before you can even process it, you realize that you're running down the hall in the direction opposite to him. Out of the back door of the school, heaving as your heartbeat reaches 3000bpm.

🏀

Recalling the memory as you walk to the bus stop that afternoon causes you to slap your palm against your forehead once again. “What was I thinking? Now Chenle is really going to think I’m a freak.” 

You couldn’t believe yourself, kicking the gravel underneath your sneakers in frustration you beat yourself up over having ruined the only interaction that could’ve possibly been your chance to win his heart. It could’ve been the last time he ever looked your way again, and you wouldn’t blame him. 

But it wasn’t. 

Because just minutes after, like a miracle from heaven, you hear the roar of an expensive car engine near you before hearing his angelic voice call the syllables you thought you’d never hear him say: “Y/N!” 

Wide eyed, your snap your head to the sound of his voice only to see him through the window of his shiny million dollar car. He smiles and you feel like running again. He notices. “Wait! Don’t go!” 

You hear the buckle of his seatbelt being undone and watch in shock as he jogs around the car and suddenly he towering over you with a sweet smile. “Hi.” 

Say hi back! What are you doing? “Uh- I- uh- Hi?” 

He chuckles, looking down at his shoes before looking into your eyes once again. “How you doing?” 

“I’m- im good.” You stutter. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

The silence that follows makes you want to get swallowed up by the ground and never see daylight again. 

Chenle notices how you avoid his eyes and chuckles once again, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Well, um, I just saw that you were walking and wanted to know if you wanted a ride.” 

“In your car?” You ask in a quiet voice. Chenle laughs. 

“I mean, yeah. Unless you want to rent bikes from the tourism center.” You allow a small smile to grace your lips briefly before remembering the circumstances you currently found yourself in. Chenle (Zhong Chenle, Number 22, Yes. Chenle.) has just offered you a ride in his fancy car. The same car you watched him pull up in for two whole years. And he wants you to get in it. 

The millions of scenarios that go through your head as to why this could be happening but as you painfully remember today’s events, you realize what this is about. 

Chenle shoves both his hands in his jean pockets as he awaits your answer. “...So?” 

You breathe in deeply, “Listen, um, if you’re doing this because you feel bad about earlier or something, please don’t.” 

Chenle’s eyebrows furrow together and he comes closer to you. “That’s not the case at all, I just saw you walking all by yourself and thought to offer you a ride home.” 

“But you drive past here every day and you’ve never offered me a ride before?” You question out loud, wincing as you realize that you could possibly sound creepy for knowing where he goes in the afternoon. “I mean- you always drive in the same direction as my bus stop! So I see you!” You feel how clammy your palms are rubbing against the harsh fabric of your jeans. “Speaking of the bus, I should probably go before I miss it.” 

Just as you turn to walk away, Chenle’s hand grips your wrist where your sleeve has ridden up, allowing the first skin to skin contact you ever made with him. Your eyes widen at him and he lets go immediately, awkwardly. “I guess I was focused on other things, but now I’m focused on you.” 

-

In the fever dream that was Zhong Chenle flirting (?), and the insistent drumming of your heart in your ears you come back to only realize you were moving into Chenle’s car. (The doors opened upwards!) 

The boy took the liberty of opening it for you, closing it once you were settled in. You took the moment he was walking to the driver’s side to take in a deep breath and compose yourself. 

What the hell is going on? Why Zhong Chenle talking to you? Why is he driving you home? Why did he tell you he’s focused on you? What? What does any of this mean? 

Before you could begin pulling your hairs out in frustration, Chenle’s door opens and he plops down onto the driver’s seat. He looks over at you with a smile as he fastens his seatbelt, “Buckle up.” You do so quietly, biting your lip to prevent any further embarrassment. 

The drive begins with little to no talking, the only thing filling the silence being the constant humming of the air conditioning and static of the radio.

 “Do you want to listen to something?” He presses his pale fingers to the glossy touch screen in between you two. Soon enough, a soft beat travels through the ambience of his car. You see from the corner of your eye that he looks over at you and smiles, but keep your nervous eyes on the road in front of you; Chenle faces the road once again, tilting his head to the side in a gesture that you would find unbearably cute any other day makes you want to open the car door and jump out into the street, running away from the awkward silence and the confusing thoughts plaguing your mind.

-

Chenle leaves after promising to pick you up tomorrow morning, you can only nod your head rapidly and run into your house, afraid that he would be able to hear the loud beats of your heart.

Once the door of your room is closed safely behind you, you finally breathe for the first time this afternoon. “What the fuck? What the shit? What the hell?” You mutter to yourself as you pace around the room. 

Could it be that your dreams are finally becoming a reality? Had Chenle seen you the way you saw him this entire time?

The one sided crush wasn’t as one sided as you thought! Is what you wanted to think, but there was part of you that questioned where his intentions lie due to the abruptness of the situation. What if there was an ulterior motive behind his actions? No. Chenle wouldn't do something as bad as play with someone’s emotions like that? Right? 

As you lay in bed pondering the thought you decide it's best to ask him tomorrow.

-

You wake up 30 minutes earlier the next day, showering thoroughly and waiting in the living room so as to not make him wait too long to leave when he arrives. 

This moment comes while you’re sitting at the table with your family, your eyes widen as you hear the knocks on your front door. “I’ll get it!” You stop your mother from reaching the door as you run to it. 

Chenle smiles politely as your face appears from inside the house. “Hey.” 

You smile back nervously, “Hi.” You proceed to stand at the doorway for a few awkward seconds before your mother comes to see who it is. She is pleasantly surprised to see someone of the male species there in front of you. 

“Oh?” She says, smiling at him then looking at you suggestively. You try to convey a silent plea to not embarrass you before she looks away to shake Chenle’s hand.  “Hi! I’m Y/N’s mom, are you one of her friends?” 

Chenle smiles at her sweetly, “Yes, I am. I’m actually here to pick Y/N up for school.”

“You’re taking Y/N to school?” Your mother’s shocked face is enough to tell Chenle that it was probably the first time anything like this has happened to you. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Your mother sends you a sly smile that she thinks Chenle doesn’t notice before nudging your arm. “Then what are you doing standing there? Don’t make him wait!” Your groan and rub the spot on her arm where she pushed you as you go upstairs to grab your backpack.

Downstairs, Chenle accepts your mother’s offer of entering your humble home. Your house is a modest abode with strange decorations hanging up on the walls, along with pictures of your family. The living room looks like an orphanage where mix matched furniture goes to live. There's one pale green couch, one beige and one a bright yellow. Chenle thinks back to the pristine state of his own living room, the pure white furniture and modern, classy decorations hung up on the marble walls. He realizes that it is nothing like his own, in fact, he doesn’t think it could’ve been more different but he finds that he likes it. That it feels homey compared to his usually liefless house. It’s the kind of place he would stay in for a long time. 

Chenle shakes those thoughts out of his as soon as they appear, remembering why he was doing this in the first place, he couldn’t risk getting attached.

-

“Be honest with me.” 

Chenle startles upon hearing your voice above its normal shy muttering. You, on the other hand, are shaking in your shoes having practiced what you would say and thought over doing this millions of times last night. “What are your intentions? Like, it’s not that I think you’re a bad person or anything but I just don’t understand because of the suddenness.”

Chenle averts his eyes from the road to glance at you, smiling. He faces forward once again sighing slightly. “Okay, I’ll be honest,” He starts, you sit up straighter and involuntarily lean toward him. “I think you’re really cute, I always noticed you at my games and the way you would cheer me on was really endearing and it encourages me a lot.”

The butterflies that erupt in your stomach with his words are undeniable. “You noticed me?” Your quiet voice is back, still, he hears you. He smiles, and it’s genuine. 

“Of course I did,” he says, “And i know that it was very… sudden but if you give me a chance i would really love to take you on dates and maybe… more.”  

He sounds slightly unsure of himself. Rubbing the leather of his wheel with his hands. 

Your mind is mush. Chenle likes you! He thinks you're cute and he noticed you at his games! What is life?! 

“What do you say?” he says after the awkward pause in which you freaked out. 

‘No’ is not a word in your dictionary.

-

The cycle continues throughout the next week; Chenle picks you up every morning (never forgetting to bid your mother a good morning) and takes you home every afternoon (always politely rejecting your mother’s offers to stay for dinner), always spilling banter in the car, learning about each other. Chenle notices how you open up to him and he likes it (though he can’t really pinpoint why), he likes talking to you, and laughing with you and he finds himself wanting to be around you more often. Though this wasn’t initially part of the plan, he figures he can enjoy it until it had to end. 

The thought makes an eerie feeling rise in his chest, even if he doesn't know why, he thinks things will be a lot harder than he planned.

🏀

It’s friday when Chenle invites you to come watch his basketball practice.

You had imagined this scenario in your head plenty of times before but not once did you think you would ever actually be here sitting on the players bench watching up close as Chenle maneuvered across the court along with the rest of the players. There was sweat dripping off the tip of his blonde hair which made him look 10 times more attractive than he already was and you have to stop the drool that threatens to leak from your lips as he sits down next to you on the bench. “Hey.”

“Hi,” You reply, trying to keep yourself together.

“Practice is over.” Chenle says motioning towards the now empty court. It's only then that you realize that you and Chenle are alone, and suddenly, he’s sitting a lot closer to you than you thought. You turn your face to him and realize that your noses are nearly touching, Chenle smiles. “Hi.” He says, coming a bit closer until he feels the moisture of his sweaty arm against your dry one, he recoils. “Oh my god, I’m sorry. I’m so sweaty right now.” There’s a dust of embarrassed blush on his face as he slides away on the bench. Your heart starts beating erratically as you watch him try to rub his sweat away with his small hand towel.

You can’t find the words to tell him it’s okay (slightly scared to tell him that you like it) so you say the next best thing. “You looked cool playing.”

This eases him a bit, he smiles. “You think so?”

“Yeah!” You say, “Like Curry!” 

Chenle laughs, “Oh man! I can’t believe you just compared me to Curry.” He stands and takes a bow, waving his towel dramatically. “I am honored.” 

The scene causes you to giggle, and Chenle has to take a breather to calm his own beating heart. 

“Especially when you blocked Jaemin at the 3rd point and scored on the spot. I was impressed.” 

“You must know a lot about basketball.” He points out. You shake your head. 

“Not really,” is your response. “I only learned from coming to watch your games.” The sudden confession slipped from your lips and you momentarily panicked. 

Upon not hearing  a response from Chenle, your breathing deepens and you think maybe you ruined the moment. 

Unbeknownst to you, Chenle watches you with curious eyes. He senses the tension coming from you and walks away, leaving you alone in your troubled state. 

You think maybe Chenle left without, freaked out and uncomfortable because of what you said, however, you’re proven ridiculously wrong when you dribble a basketball on the floor. 

You lift your gaze to Chenle who dribbled the orange ball with a teasing smile on his face. “Why don’t you show me what you got?” 

“I- I don’t-“ you begin. 

“Oh come one, Y/N!” He says, passing the ball to you, “You have to be good. I mean, you did learn from the best.” The cocky shrug of his shoulders and teasing smile bring you peace of mind and you find yourself agreeing. 

-

It’s safe to say that Chenle is surprised at your skills. He should’ve known you had paid enough attention to him to learn all his techniques and dodge them while playing. And to think he was planning on letting you win so you could feel better. It eventually became a full competition. Sweaty bodies and heavy breathing, running, dodging, scoring. Teasing words and intense competitive gazes. 

The score was 7-7. Chenle sweeps in to swipe the ball from your hands but you pivot and shoot the three pointer right from your spot. “Yes!” You exclaim, throwing your hands in the air with a celebratory dance. “I won!”

Chenle is leaning with his hands on his knees, his chest heaving. “I need-“ he breathes, “I need to stop being so good at basketball. So heathens like you can stop learning my best tricks.” He brings his hand up to pinch your cheek teasingly. “You should join the team.” He says jokingly. You chuckle, rubbing the spot on your face that was just touched by his fingers. 

“As if.” 

“Hey! Does the idea of being in a team with tons of rowdy sweaty dudes that unappealing?” Chenle jokes, placing the basketball back in its place. 

“It’s enough with you.”

Before you can retract the statement, Chenle speaks. “That’s right, you only need one sweaty rowdy basketball player in your life.” He winks. “And that’s me.”

You laugh at his words but can feel your heartbeat all throughout your body. You can’t stop your mind from thinking: 

You’re damn right. It’s you. 

-

As you walk back to his car, Chenle is the first to break the comfortable silence. “You know… it was nice to see you so talkative and competitive today. I had fun.” 

And despite everything, he meant it. He knows he probably shouldn’t, but he does. 

Unaware of his inner turmoil, you smile. “I did too.” 

He gives you a lopsided smile in return before sliding the strap of your backpack off your shoulder and onto his own, keeping his own backpack company. “I’ll carry it for you.” 

You wonder if this is the start of something magical. Beside you, Chenle wonders the same but his thoughts are weaved with something more, something that meant trouble. 

You, however, hurry home to pour your feelings into a letter. Hearts drawn on the borders of the loose leaf page and a smile on your face all throughout. 

🏀

Every week it gets harder to become immune to Chenle’s charm. 

Today, he did something as simple as drop you off at home after school. However, before bidding you goodbye as song rings from the radio of his car. Chenle perks up. “I love this song!” 

He turns up the radio to its full capacity and rolls down the windows, making the music sound through the street. 

“Chenle! Turn that down!” You exclaim but the laughter in your tone hints that you want the exact opposite. Chenle shakes his head. 

“No can do!” he waves his arms dramatically in the air, “Dance with me!” 

You laugh once again at the wonderful boy, “You’re ridiculous!”

“Oh yeah?” He says challengingly. Suddenly he is opening the door and dancing on the sidewalk where everyone could see him. His movements are almost manic and all you can do is continue laughing. “I’m not leaving until you dance with me.”

“My neighbors are going to see you.” You warn. He shrugs.

“It's fine. I’ll just tell them I’m with you!” 

“Oh my god no.” You say, stepping out of the passenger’s side, walking around the car until you’re in front of him, you cross your arms. 

“Show me some moves, I’m getting tired.” 

And so an impromptu two people dance party breaks out on the sidewalk in front of your house. Even though in your imagination dancing with Chenle would require the presence of an elegant ball gown and fancy chandeliers, all there is to be seen is loud music, laughter, grabbing of hands and playful banter. And you wonder if it could ever be more perfect than this.

-

Of course, like any other human, Chenle has his moments. 

The morning car ride was as silent as could be. Chenle’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, angrily. His usual smile is replaced but a scowl that only left momentarily when you stepped into the car earlier, a (clearly forced) polite smile is what you saw.

Since then you didn’t dare to speak, not wanting to bother him when he was clearly having a bad time. 

You arrive at the school and escape the still awkward ambience, bidding him a quiet farewell before running in. 

- 

You proceeded to spend the entire school day wondering what was up with Chenle that morning and what you could do to help him. It’s when you meet at the end of the day once again that you ask, “Hey, is everything okay?”

The boy freezes up, before clearing his throat. “Yeah, why do you ask?”

You shrug, “Nothing, you you were just kind of, like, quiet this morning… so i figured you were upset.” 

The blonde boy in the driver’s seat keeps his eyes on the road ahead of him, “It’s nothing, Y/N.” He says in a rough tone, one you’ve never heard or thought you would ever hear him use. “It doesn’t concern you anyway, okay?”  

Your form deflates into the seat, wishing you had kept quiet like you did this morning. You reply, “Okay.” 

There’s tension. Body swallowing tension that lasts all throughout the car ride to your house, as Chenle pulls up in front the driveway and you have already unbuckled your seatbelt before he got the chance to put the car in park. 

In the passenger’s seat, Chenle feels the guilt creeping on him. He realizes that you only asked because you cared. “Wait-” Seemingly, he is too late since you’ve already shut the car door and made your way up your driveway. “Goddammit.” He sighs to himself, working to take off his seatbelt.

Your feet hurriedly take you to your door after you exit Chenle’s car, your nerves increase as you hear Chenle leave his car. “Y/N, I-”

The door opens before you can turn the handle, your mother’s smiling face looks back at you. “Hey, Honey.” You smile back at the woman, who immediately notices the emotions behind your smile. Quietly, she asks: “Are you okay?” 

As soon as you nod in response, her eye catches Chenle standing guilty behind you. “Chenle! How are you?” 

Chenle smiles with a nod, “I’m doing alright.”

“Well, I would invite you in for dinner but I can imagine what your answer will be.” She says jokingly, teasing him for all the times he had rejected her offer. To her surprise, Chenle doesn’t laugh awkwardly or agree with her, instead, he ponders for a bit. His gaze finds your own causing you to quickly look away. He feels his heart contract as he thinks of starting at square one with you; back to when you couldn’t look him in the eye.

“Actually,” He says, “Dinner sounds great.”

🏀

Even though the tension between you and Chenle is painfully obvious, he feels his heart become lighter as he watches how you interact with your little siblings. Laughing at their childish antics and playing along with them at the dinner table. Your parents engaged in conversation with each other across the table and Chenle sat next to you, smiling and nodding as your little sister animatedly explained to him why the rocks she found next to the trash can at recess just had to be magical. As he looks at the dynamic you have in your home, he realizes that this feels more like a home than his house ever has. All of you are sat at the table, the splash of colors brought by the miscellaneous decorations, the laughter and the love radiating from every corner makes Chenle want to stay there forever. 

“Woah!” He acts, “Are you serious?” 

The little girl nods proudly, “Mhm! And I’m going to give this one,” she points to a particular shiny one on the dining table, “to Y/N, so she can make her dream come true. But don’t tell her it’s a secret.” 

He chuckles at her before whispering, “why do you think she’ll ask for?” 

She giggles, leaning closer. She puts a hand over her mouth as she whispers. “Number 22.” 

Chenle refrains from gasping, “Huh?”

“She talks about him but she never wants to tell me who he is.” She explains. “But I think if she had a rock to grant her wishes, she would wish for him.”

Chenle takes this moment to look over at you, studying your side profile as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, helping your little brother with his food. 

That’s when it hits him. He realizes that this isn’t what he planned it to be, that the bet he set up with his friends had gone too far, and that if he himself had a magic rock for his use… he would wish for you too.

-

“Thank you so much for the food, it was delicious.” Chenle says, rubbing his full belly to emphasize. Your mother chuckles. “It was my pleasure, Chenle. You can come back anytime you want, you are always welcome here.” 

“I definitely will, ma’am.” He says with a lopsided smile before shaking your father’s hand firmly. You can already tell by the way your father affectionately claps his hand on his shoulder and smiles at him that he too has taken a liking to the boy, like your mother. 

“Y/N.” She says sternly, turning to you who currently battled to avoid Chenle’s eyes. You hum. “Be polite and walk Chenle to his car, please.” 

You grimace subtly, not wanting to be the awkward air that would come with being alone with him. You want desperately to say no, but the gaze your mother gives you tells you that would mean trouble for you. 

The basketball player notices your hesitation and looks down sadly at his sneakers, remaining that way as you lead him to the front door of your house. Its then that Chenle looks up to the view of the back of your head, his hand twitches in want to smoothen out the ahi at the back of your head for you. 

You catch Chenle mid dilemma as you turn to face him, gesturing towards the open door. His eyes shift from you to the door. And to his car, he thinks about the ride home and how once he gets home it will just be him and he’ll be alone. 

He doesn’t want to be alone. Strangely enough, he wants to be with you. 

“Chenle?” He hears your soft voice. Your eyebrows are furrowed as you watch him stand there, unmoving, with a look of confusion. He looks into your eyes and realizes you’re waiting for him to walk through the door first. He does so, head tilted down. You follow him out the door and close it behind you. 

You trail behind him until he reaches his car, however, instead of getting in like you expected him to, he turns abruptly to you. His eyes are glossy and startled at the sight of them. “Do you-“ He pauses, hesitating. “Do you wanna go for a drive?” 

“A drive?” You ask, watching him fiddle nervously with his keys. 

“Yes.” 

“Right now?” He nods firmly. 

“I don’t- I don’t think my parents will let me go out this late.” You say, wrapping your arms around yourself to combat the winter wind. Before saying in a quieter voice, remembering the events that took place earlier that day, “And I thought you wanted to be alone.” 

Chenle feels guilty upon hearing your words. Knowing you felt hurt by his words from earlier. He shakes his head, stepping closer to you. “No. I don’t. That’s the last thing I want right now.” 

You see something in his eyes that you had never seen before. Exhaustion mixed with sadness and worry. The usually mischievous happy go lucky look nowhere to be seen amongst all the turmoil you found looking at him. You immediately grew more concerned. “Chenle…” you say, he looks away momentarily. “I’ll- let me ask my parents.” 

-

Much like many times before, you’re sat in the passenger's side of his expensive car. The scene has become common, except the ambiance is different. Chenle doesn’t attempt to start conversation like he always does, instead, he just stares forward blankly. Occasional tears rolling down his pale cheeks which he wipes away as soon as they appear, you are itching to ask the boy what is going on in his pretty head but decide against it once you remember how that turned out earlier. So you keep silent as Chenle presses harder on the gas causing the streetlights of the empty highway to become a blur above you. It momentarily impressed you how fast his car could go, however, once you look over at the boy, you see his state. Chenle has strings of tears running down his face, snot dripping out of his nose and even his hair is sticking to his forehead due to his excessive sweating. 

“Chenle, maybe we should pull over.”

He doesn’t seem to hear you, only pushing further down on the accelerator. Fear and concern enters your bloodstream as you watch him become a version of himself you’ve never seen, a version you didn’t even think existed. You reach over took him and rest your shaky hand on his arm. Upon feeling your touch, his head snaps to you and he hits the brakes abruptly causing your entire body to jolt forward. “Woah!”

Chenle’s chest heaves as he sees how scared he has made you. “I’m- I’m sorry.”

“Pull over, Chenle.” You say sternly, pulling your hand away and instead of doing what he wanted to do which was pulling your hand back to him, he does as you told him and park his car on the side of the road. The two of you sit in silence for what feels like forever, until you hear a sniffle come from Chenle’s side of the car. Looking over, you notice how he is hunched over the steering wheel, crying.

“Chenle?” You use the softest voice you could muster. “Chenle, what’s wrong?”

Your immediate response is silence. He takes in short choked breaths, it seems like every breath he takes causes him to fall into a state of agony. 

“I think-” he said, voice quivering. “Y/N, I think I’m a bad person.”

The sentence confuses you. “Why would you think that?” 

“Because I did something terrible to someone I care about.” He answers, you note that he is not able to meet your eyes. It scares you. “What did you do?”  

“I can’t-” He says breathlessly, his hand fumbling to open his car door. Stumbling out, watch as he makes his way around the car, leaning against the cement railing with his head in his hands. 

You watch him in momentary shock before following him his actions and getting out of the car as well. You carefully approach him. “What is going on with you?” 

Chenle sighs, pulling his hands away from his face. “I had a fight with my mother this morning, and everything was just piling up and I guess that was just the last straw.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

“I just… everyone expects so much from me.” He breathes. “My parents, my friends, my teachers, everyone at that damn school!” The railing in front of him takes the blows of his frustration. “And I don’t think i’m as good as they think i am, i'm not worth it.” He looks over at you and you immediately straighten at the sight of his red face. “Like you, Y/N. You’re so good to me, so nice and sweet. I don’t deserve it. Especially from you.” 

You don’t know what he means by that. Chenle knows you don’t know but he stays silent. You take this as your chance to speak. “I’m not only nice to you because I want to be. Because you’ve always been nice to me too, Chenle.” You dare to step closer, into his bubble. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, it would be impossible to meet everyone’s expectations so just be yourself… that’s enough for a lot of people.”

Chenle’s mouth speaks before he can stop it. “Is it enough for you?”

To forgive me? To still be the same after you realize what I’ve done. 

There is a silence that follows that one sentence, Chenle avoids your gaze nervously, he doesn’t realize that your silence is the product of your racing mind. The mind that is currently trying to find the words to describe what is happening in your heart. You ultimately decided that the best way to go is the truth. 

“You know… I kinda had a crush on you all throughout high school, which is kind of embarrassing but that’s not the point,” you start, “the point is that I had this perfect version of you in my head. Of what you would be like. And then when you came up to me that day… I didn’t know if I could talk to someone who wasn’t the Chenle I knew up here.” You take the liberty of poking a finger against your temple. “But I did anyway, and I realized you were nothing like the Chenle I saw in my head…”

Chenle chuckled sadly before commenting, “Ouch.” 

“You were better than him.” Chenle’s gaze snaps towards you in shock, you look forward. Too afraid to meet his gaze. “Nicer, funnier, and way more handsome than I thought up close.” You chuckle, having made the comment to help him feel better. “So yeah. I would say you are enough. More than, even.” 

“You really mean that?” 

For the first time you make eye contact, you furrow your eyebrows to try and make your sincerity as apparent as possible. “I do.”

He knows you do and that mends his heart as much as it breaks it into tiny pieces. He wants nothing more than to pull you towards him and smash his lips onto your own, but he also knows that it will only worsen the situation that is yet to come. Still his hands reach before he can stop them and reach to cup either side of your face. 

Your heartbeat is running at an unearthly speed, Chenle can hear it but knows his own is probably the same. Betraying his common sense, he leans into you until your lips are almost touching, the top brushing enough to have you wanting more. You think he’s going to kiss you and close your lips tightly. However, instead of his lips, you feel his hot breath when he utters the words: “I’m sorry.” Before removing his hands from your face and backing away. 

You can’t say the action didn’t cause a hurtful blow to your feelings but you also knew Chenle was in a tough place right now. You smile at him. “You don’t have to be sorry.” 

Chenle hates how you smile at him when he does things that hurt your feelings. He hates that you’re so considerate and nice to him despite what he is doing to you behind your back. He hates that you will find out one day and that you’ll hate him as much as he hates this. He hates that he doesn’t want to lose you, and that in the end he probably will. 

-

Friday is a holiday, so you don’t see Chenle the day after he took you on a late night drive with him. (You wrote another letter that night). In fact, you don’t hear from him until your phone chimes Saturday morning, Chenle’s name above a text message.

22 [9:15am]: hey

22 [9:15am]: I hope you’re good :)

22 [9:15am]: I just wanted to let you know there’s a party at my house tonight

22 [9:16am]: if you want

22 [9:18am]: actually, I really want you there so…

22 [9:20am]: please come.

You read the texts over a few times, it dawns upon you that you've never seen Chenle’s house. Sure, you’ve heard from classmates who had gone to his huge parties that it was extravagant as can be, resembling a hotel lobby rather than a house. The thought of being in his home made your hands sweat. Still, you remember how anxious you were to see him, especially after the other night, and you find yourself typing a reply of confirmation before tossing your phone to the side and walking to your closet to find something to wear for tonight. 

🏀

As soon as your parents drop you off in front of what was easily the biggest, brightest, classiest house you’ve ever seen in your entire life, you get the unnerving urge to go home. 

The abundance of people did nothing to help the creeping anxiety, the stares of some that briefly trained on you before whispering something to their friends. You couldn’t help but feel out of place. That is, until you see a familiar face. Jisung walks up to you with his hand wrapped around his girlfriend’s. “Hi!” He calle brightly as the girl waved friendly. 

“Hey guys!” You try to stabilize your voice. “How’s the party?” 

“Honestly… it kinda turned sour once some lower class men came and started to get wasted.” Jisung chuckled out, his girlfriend nods in agreement as she grips his arm affectionately. You smile when he looks over at her and smiles. There’s a part of you that feels envious of the relationship the two have but most of your thoughts surround how happy you are for the two. “We’re probably leaving soon anyway.” Jisung adds on. 

After getting over your monetary panic of having to be alone once again you nod your head, smiling at them. “Okay, I’m going to try to find Chenle.” They nod and bid their farewells, you sigh out loud as you walk through the crowd once again, searching for the blonde hair of the boy you so desperately need to calm right now. 

“I heard that she is the one Chenle left Ava for?” You hear someone say. 

“No way! Chenle wouldn’t stoop that low, plus I heard Ava broke up with him.” 

“Either way, I don’t understand why he would be hanging with her anyway, he probably feels sorry for her. What a loser.” 

It’s strange how you can hear their comments over the loud music that causes the walls to vibrate. You feel like vomiting as your insecurities take over and another sweaty presses against you. You push them away and run the rest of the way, not looking to find Chenle anymore just wanting to get out of here. You find what you hope is the bathroom and open the door, running inside and shoving the door closed, chest heaving.

“Y/N?” You hear from behind you, you turn around in shock and make eye contact with the red faced boy you spent your whole night looking for. “Chenle.” 

It’s then that you realize that he’s not alone. Across from him is an equally red faced Ava, eyebrows furrowed and lips turned down in a frown. 

It dawns upon you that you might have just interrupted something. 

You look between the two before averting your gaze back to the floor. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Hands grabbing the door handle and turning it quickly in a desperate attempt to flee the room. Completely deaf to the , “Wait!” That leaves Chenle’s mouth as you leave the room. 

Soon enough your back in the sea of sweaty drunks, trying to stabilize your voyage to the front door. To escape the stormy waters this night has caused your nerves. 

And you almost make it, had it not been for the harsh shove you received that sent you tumbling onto the floor. Suddenly, the people around you become giants and their huge feet stomp around you, threatening to squash you under their sneakers as if you were an irrelevant bug. 

Your shaky legs prevent you from standing up, and you only realize you’re crying when you feel a tear run down the side of your neck. No one seems to notice you’re there and you suddenly remember why being invisible sucks. 

It feels like ages have passed when you feel hands gripping your arms and lifting you onto your feet. Chenle’s voice sounds distance even if he’s barely an inch away from you. “Are you okay?” 

“I think-“ you say, shakily. “I think I’m having a panic attack.” 

Chenle takes your head and shoves it into his chest, making sure to keep a hand over your eyes as he leads you through the crowd. “It’s okay.” He whispers. “Everything is going to be okay.” 

He repeats the sentences over and over until you two reach a quieter place and you hear the door of a shutting door and the music becomes muffled. 

Chenle keeps a hand secured around your head as he holds you for a few more seconds before slowly letting you go. 

“I need you to breathe with me, okay?” He says. Before you can think, you nod. “In through your nose.” He demonstrated, you follow. “Out through your mouth.” 

You continue this until the beating of your heart has slowed down and you don’t feel like you're physically suffocating anymore. Instead, you feel tired. Chenle must have noticed because he ushers you to lay on the neatly made bed behind you, tucking you in before you had time to protest. 

🏀

It takes a whole ten minutes for either of you to speak, you half expected Chenle to leave after throwing this blue blanket over you, instead, he sits at the edge of the mattress and picks at his nails. Kind of like he wants to say something. 

“Thank you for helping me.” You speak first. “I don’t know what went wrong.” 

Chenle sighs, “I’m sorry for not finding you, I just- I was-“ 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain.” You interrupt, remembering where he was when you finally found him. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, still you know it’s not your place to question him. “I should get going, anyway.” You rush to slip on your shoes only to be stopped by Chenle. 

“No, it’s not what you thought it was.” He starts. You avert your gaze from him in fear of what he had to say. “Ava and I ran into each other earlier and she was just going off about how horrible I was in front of everyone. I think she was drunk, but she was causing a scene so I wanted to take her somewhere where it wouldn’t cause a commotion. I didn’t want to bring her in here so I just took her to the bathroom” He says, “We got into a bit of an argument, and that’s when you walked in.” 

“It’s-“ 

“She told me she wanted to get back together.” He blurts out, like he was getting something off his chest. 

“Oh.” Is your reply.

“Obviously I said no.” He says, almost expectedly. He doesn’t know that the knot that was tightening in your chest loosened a bit at his words. He watches you for a bit before speaking again. “What- what’s on your mind?” 

The question catches you off guard. You don’t really know what’s on your mind, the messy twister of thoughts going too fast for you to be able to reach in and grab a coherent thought. Only one thing pops up and you go with it. 

“Is this your room?” 

Chenle is silent for a second before he says. “Uh, yeah? Yes, it is.” 

You hum, laying on your back once again. It’s then that you notice the glow in the dark stars Chenle has stuck to the ceiling of his room, identical to the ones in your own. “You have stars on your ceiling.” 

He chuckles embarrassingly, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’ve lived here since I was a kid my grandad put them up there when I was young and I just never got around to taking them down.” 

“I have the same ones on mine.” 

“Really?” He asks. But he can’t help the shift his heart takes as he thinks of the two of you laying under the same glow in the dark stars every night. 

Before he knew it, he was walking towards the light switch and flicking it off. The lights shine to their full potential over you. It eases you a bit, until you feel the bed dip next to you and you smell his close proximity to you, feeling the warmth coming his shoulder where it touches your own as you lay side by side. 

The silence is comfortable this time. 

“Do you ever have panic attacks?” You ask suddenly. 

Chenle shakes his head but remembers you can see him, “No.” He whispers, as if someone would hear him. “But Jisung does sometimes, so I learned some techniques to be able to help him through it.” 

You smile into the darkness. “That’s nice of you.” You lower your voice to his whispering tone.

Suddenly words are absent and the two of you just stare at the stars to the ceiling. 

You know it’s weird, that after the other night, you are lying in Chenle’s bed beside him like nothing happened. Like you had always been there. You wondered whether you should be glad or scared that you feel that way.

Beside you, Chenle is having his own dilemma. On one part, he feels relieved that you’re safe now, that no one can hurt you now that you’re here with him. He feels comforted that you look so at home in his room, blending in so well it almost sends his head reeling. (Partially the reason he turned off the lights.) On another part, he feels so scared that he wants to think you blend in and that he wants to tell you everything in his head. That he wants to let you in, when he knows he shouldn’t. That he felt concern in his veins when he saw you in such a panicked state earlier, and all he wanted to do was tuck you into his chest and protect you forever. 

Why did he want to protect you forever? 

He turns on his side, you feel it. His breath fans on the side of your face. You turn to his darkness, staring to where you knew his face would be. 

“Can I tell you something?” He says, it’s too late to take it back now, since you nod. “The other night when I ate dinner at your house…” he starts, “I was in such a bad place, And I never thanked you for putting up with me and having me over for dinner, it made me feel so much better, you know before everything blew up in the car.” 

You furrow your eyebrows at his words. “That was actually my mom’s doing, but I will make sure to tell her you said so.” 

Chenle shakes his head, kissing his teeth. “No, that’s not it. It was because you were there, Y/N.” 

You hold your breath when he said that, not replying. Chenle takes his own in an attempt to calm his rapid heart. “Spending time with your family kinda made me feel like I was a part of something special.” He confesses. “Something you were a part of.”

An unsteady exhale tumbles from your lips, his statement doing a number on your heart. “What… what are you trying to say?”

This is it, Chenle. Tell her about the bet, confess what you did and fix everything before things get too serious and you break her heart. Tell her the truth! 

‘The truth’ Chenle thinks. ‘Okay.’

“I like you, Y/N.” You don’t see that he is squeezing his eyes shut even if the room is pitch black.

“What?” You say in disbelief, even if the butterflies have already started erupting in your stomach. 

“I like you.” He repeats. “So much.” 

You stare in his direction in a state of shock and happiness. Meanwhile, Chenle beats himself up in his mind, taking your silence as a bad sign. “It's okay if you don’t want to be a thing or anything, I just thought, you know, since I like you and you like me… Liked? Is that past tense?” 

Your head shakes and causes a ruffling noise against his pillow. “No, it’s very much present tense.” 

The warmth pressed against your shoulder disappears. And you hear Chenle’s footsteps throughout the room, suddenly the world turns bright and Chenle walks back to the bed. Now with the light on, he can see the blush on your cheeks and the small smile you wear. He smiles back at you, but he feels bad. So, so bad. 

So bad that leans down to lay over you, kissing your breath away. 

It's only after the momentary surprise that you begin to kiss him back.

His lips are rougher than you thought they would be, but still held some pillow like softness you expected. His hands hold your cheeks as he dips down further to bring his lips closer to yours. 

Now you totally understood why everyone was so crazy about kissing. It’s the best thing ever, and you never want it to end. However, breathing becomes an issue when you kiss someone, you learned. Chenle is the first to pull away, keeping his face a barely centimeters from your own, your breaths meet in the middle. 

When you finally open your eyes, you are met with Chenle’s worried ones already watching you. You immediately frown. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask. Are you a bad kisser? Does your breath smell? Does he regret it? His response is unlike those, shocking you when the words leave his mouth. 

“I don’t want to break your heart, Y/N.”  He looks away from you. His body is still positioned above you, the position being one that makes it hard to avoid your eyes (and one that is even suggestive).  Still he tries his best, that is, until he feels your soft hands cradling his cheeks just as he has been doing to your own just a few minutes ago. 

“Chenle, look at me.” You say, though your voice is wavering. He obliges. “Why are you worried about that?” 

“I just-” You can tell he would look away if you weren’t holding his head in place, he can’t hide his eyes now. “I’m just afraid I'll do something to hurt you and that you’ll hate me.” He says, which isn’t the whole truth but is also not a lie. 

“Why would I hate you? I could never.” Chenle wants to scoff sadly when you say that but you cut him off. “I’ll promise to not break your heart if you promise to not break mine.” You extend your pinky in between your faces. 

Chenle winces internally, feeling like he already broke your heart. And he is more scared now that it’s real. That you like each other and this probably makes you guys a thing, that he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings like he knows he will. But he also thinks about the fact that he has never felt this way with anyone else, that you were the first girl he ever felt comfortable enough with to let in his room, that you have glow in the dark stars like him and that it kind of feels like you’re split-aparts that have finally found each other. The longer he could keep you by his side, the better. 

That’s when he decides to let himself live in this world, at least while he can. He wraps his pinky around yours and lets your thumbs touch, sealing the deal.

He doesn’t have time to regret his decision because you lean up and catch his lips before he can think of anything but you.

🏀

Two weeks later, and most of your days have been spent much like this one. Chenle’s arms wrap protectively around your middle as you read the messages on your phone. One being a reminder from the president of the student council about the special dress code for Valentine’s Day. 

You turn in Chenle’s hold and meet his sleepy eyes, he smiles. “Did you see what the student council is doing?” 

“Mm?” He replies, you turn your phone to him. “A dress code?” 

“Yep, white for single, pink for complicated, and red for taken.” You say, bringing attention back to you phone. “I’m glad I look good in pink.” 

The statement confuses Chenle. “What do you mean pink? What is complicated?” 

You startle at the awareness and worry on his voice compared to the sleepy mumbles you were getting just moments ago. “Well… I mean, you never asked me to be your girlfriend.” 

Chenle freezes. You were right, he never did because part of the bet was to have a girlfriend by Valentines, it made him feel as though he wasn’t a complete asshole if he hadn’t completed the bet. “You’re right.” 

You watch him expectedly, but receive no response. Holding back a sigh, you bring your attention back down to your phone. 

“Are you upset with me?” His soft voice meets your ears. 

You shake your head. “Of course not, why would I be?” 

“It’s not fair to you that I keep you waiting.” None of what I’ve done to you is fair, he thinks. 

You reach up and stroke the hair that frames his face, smiling softly. “I’ll wait until you’re ready, Chenle. You know that.” 

It scares him how soft you are, how warm and safe he feels when he’s with you. That’s when he decides, it’s best if he waits out this week and lets himself live like this longer, even if it’s for a bit. 

“Kiss me.” He whispers. And you do. Pushing your chest flush against his, making sure every part of your body touches his own; remaining like that until you are sure you have blisters lining your lips from how much you’ve kissed him. 

The two of you end up hotly panting, you straddled over his lying figure. Chenle looks up at you from where he is before sitting up, suddenly, you feel the warmth of his hands tug at the edge of your shirt. His eyes ask for permission, which you reply to with a nod. 

You’re nervous. Very much so. You wonder if this will be the first time you have sex or if anything else will happen. 

Chenle lifts your shirt off your head and places it next to your body. “Is this okay?” He asks, his big innocent eyes looking up at you. 

“Yes.” Is the only answer you can formulate. 

The boy maintains eye contact with you as he says the following words. “Do you want to take off mine?” 

Your face flushed red, you can feel it. “I-if that’s okay with you.” His answer is in the form of his hands leading your own to the hem of his shirt, before letting go and putting his arms up. Your hands are shaking as you grab the clothing, slowly pulling it up, exposing his pale abdomen inch by beautiful inch. 

You smile at him as his head finally reappears from the whole in his shirt. “Hi.” You say, he smiles.

What he does next is something you didn’t expect from the lead up of events, unlike anything you’ve seen in erotic movie or read about in novels. 

He wraps his arms around your waist and pushes you down to lay next to him, he then pulls you towards him so that your the heat of your torso melts into his own. He shuffles until he is as close to you as he can get, only then is when stops moving. Resting his cheek against your own, you feel his breath on your ear. 

“I just want to be close to you, to hold you.” 

Just like that your heart is full to the brim once again. 

-

It’s the night before Valentine’s Day and Chenle is restless. He had decided tomorrow would be the day he would tell you everything. He would come clean and the two of you would start over (right?). He had practiced what he was going to say for hours earlier that night, wanting to have the perfect words so that his message got across to you. Still, even with all that practice, he knows there’s no guarantee that you won’t hate him. That you will swear him off and never speak to him again, when he has become so fond of you. The thought makes his hands ache and toes curl in an angsty feeling. 

After tossing and turning for nearly two hours, he finally gives up on sleeping and opts for looking at the stars stuck to his ceiling. He wonders if you’re awake right now. If you’re thinking about him while looking at your stars. He imagines your messy hair and pajamas and smiles softly to himself. “I miss her.” He says out loud, to the darkness of his room. 

Suddenly, everything happens in a flash as he throws his covers off himself and marches to the closet, pulling out his favorite red hoodie, grabbing the Valentine’s Day gift he had gotten you days ago then he’s in his car. Desperate to get where you are. 

-

It’s nearly 1am when you hear the knocking on your window. You had just begun to fall asleep when the noise startled you awake. 

Upon inspecting your window cautiously, you gasp when you see Chenle’s blonde hair. The window opens with a click. “Chenle! What are you doing here?” 

What is he doing here? “I just wanted to see you.” 

His words flutter your heart. “But it’s 1am, on a school night.” 

“I know that, I just…” he scratches the back of his neck because in reality he doesn’t know why the hell he even came here in the first place. “I had to give you something.” 

He extends the bag in his hand out to you. “Happy Valentine’s Day.” 

The bag contains two items, the first being the red hoodie you had seen Chenle wear many times before. His smell reeked off of it, causing you to nearly die of delight. “Wear this tomorrow.” He says. “Cause you’re mine.” 

You don’t know that his heart hurts for you, he pities you for being the one who causes him to lose all self control and make decisions that will hurt you in the long run. He feels so sorry that he couldn’t wait until tomorrow, that he just wanted you today, now. Before you get the chance to hate him. To run away. He wanted you to be his. 

You say nothing to him, only smiling bashfully as your cheeks matched the color of his clothing item. You look into the bag and see a black box that would be the second item. “What’s this?” You say to yourself, smiling up at Chenle. You open the box to reveal a beautiful necklace with a pretty pink diamond hanging off the end. You gasp. 

“Chenle, I can't accept that.” You say, closing it. You knew the necklace probably cost more than your house, you felt guilty taking it. 

“Please accept it. I bought it for you. I want to see it on you every day.” He seizes the opportunity to reassure himself. “And yes. It cost a lot, so that means we have to continue seeing each other, hm?” 

“Chenle…” you say. 

“Please.” He says in a way that makes you wonder if this is only about the necklace. 

“Okay.” 

You pivot and allow him to clip the chain, you turn to him and catch his reaction to the jewelry resting against your upper chest. “How do I look?”

Chenle’s eyes study the necklace before looking into your own. He smiles somewhat sadly as his arm reaches up to stroke your own. “You look beautiful.” He whispers. “Just like I knew you would.” 

You can’t put your finger on it, but something about his demeanor is unsettling. “Chenle, is something wrong?” You ask, to which he shakes his head weakly, but the sad look on his face tells you otherwise. You figure it had something to do with his family and refrain from asking. Instead you cup his cheek to provide him comfort, he leans into your touch and shits his eyes momentarily. “I love it. Thank you.” You say in a quiet voice. Chenle watches your features move into a soft smile before impulsively leaning forward to peck your lips. 

“I’m so happy.” To be with you, to be yours. “Let's be happy together for a long time, okay?”

You don’t say no.

-

The next morning you arrive before every other student to school. Chenle’s red sweater rests on your figure as you reach your locker and take out what had been heavy in your mind since last night. The letters. You were going to give them to Chenle and ask him to be your boyfriend. Sure, you were nervous to do so, but you knew Chenle was someone you wanted to have in your life for a long time. That's why you slip the envelopes decorated with his name one by one into the vent of his locker. 

You remember thinking this would be the beginning of something great. 

You were wrong.

🏀

There’s a pep in your step as you make your way through the halls after school clad in Chenle’s red hoodie, heart eyes searching for the boy. 

And for the first time in probably ever, you wished you wouldn’t have found him. You wished you didn’t have to see Chenle pressed up against his locker with his hands resting on Ava’s hips as she kisses him roughly. 

“Oh my god.” You say, voice small but enough to catch Chenle’s ear. The boy immediately pushes Ava away from him and turns to the sound of your voice with pleading eyes. 

“Y/N-“

“Look who showed up!” Ava interrupts, turning fully towards you. “I was wondering when you were going to come looking for him like you always do, I bet you’re glad it’s over, right Chenle?” 

The way the boy looks away from your eyes to shift his guilty gaze to the floor makes you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “Chenle what is she talking about?” 

When the boy remains silent, Ava’s high pitched voice answers for him. “Well, since he doesn’t seem very talkative right now, I’ll just tell you myself.” She clears her throat, as if setting the scene, your hands are starting to ache. “A month ago, our darling Chenle made a bet with his friends after our break up, you know as boys do, they said he couldn’t get another girlfriend before Valentine’s Day. Obviously, Chenle’s competitive self took that as a challenge and it’s obvious that you had been in love with him for like ever so you were the easiest target.” 

The way the world stops spinning isn’t like it’s described in all the romance novels you read, it’s not the good kind that makes you feel like you're floating that nothing could stop you, it’s the kind that weighs you down and makes you feel dizzy, causing you to stumble. This is what you feel when you ask: “Chenle… is this true?” And the boy just stares at you, for a second before looking away once again. 

“Of course, it’s true. He was even showing me the pathetic love letters you wrote to him.” She motions to the stack of letters in Chenle’s hands. You gasp, feeling like every last bit of you was torn apart. The thought of them reading the deepest tellings of your heart and laughing at it, all when you wholeheartedly believed that the boy you spoke about in the letters was finally all yours.

When he wasn’t. He was never yours. But he wanted you to think that. 

“Oh my god,” you run to him and attempt to rip the letters out of his hands only for him to hold on tighter. “Let go, Chenle.” 

“Y/N, please-“ 

You can’t help the sob that creeps up your throat as your attempt weakly to shake your heart out of his hands. “Please, let go.” 

Chenle watches you cry before him and feels like that the act of ripping his actual heart out of his chest would hurt less than this. 

You take this moment of weakness and rip the letters out of his grasp, before running down the hall. 

-

It’s only when you feel a hand grasp your shoulder and spin you around that you realize that Chenle has followed you all the way out to the parking lot. 

Seeing him caused every bone in your body to ache, and the contractions in your heart were hard to ignore. “Wait, okay? I need to explain somethings to you.” 

“I don’t want to hear your explanations! I just want to go home.” You realize that you probably sound like a bratty child but you couldn’t care less. 

Chenle nods, “Okay, then let’s go.” 

“Not with you.” 

Chenle can't help the dagger that the sentence shoots into his heart. “Then I’ll say what I need to say right here!” He exclaims, trying to mask his pain with anger. “It’s true that I made a bet with my friends to date you the day I first drove you home, and it’s really shitty of me, I know. But I had just broken up with Ava and everything was so messy and I just wanted to make her feel bad so I said yes. “ He pauses, “I said yes and so I went to you since I knew you liked me-“

“Jesus,” you wince, embarrassment creeping up your throat and clogging it up. Your eyes water as you think of how truly fucked up the situation is. 

That day, one month ago, you were right to question Chenle’s intentions. No, he didn’t admire you or see you the way you saw him, you were just easy bait. And everything has been a lie. “I can’t- I can’t do this.”

Chenle tries to stop the tears of guilt that threatened to leak from the corners of his eyes. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” 

“No you’re not.” Your bitter words are a shock to Chenle, he had never heard you use that tone with him (or with anyone) before. “You’re not fucking sorry.” Tears of humiliation and frustration run down your face and Chenle wants desperately to cradle your cheeks in his hands, but thinks he might never be able to after this. “It might not have been a big deal to you Chenle, but you were my first kiss, you were the first guy who ever took me on dates and drove me around in his car, you. And I thought you were the first boy who ever liked me.” The smell of him you once loved reeks of the hoodie covering your body, however, instead of feeling welcomed and happy you feel like it’s creeping up the sides of your neck and suffocating you to no end. You groan as you grab the hem of the article and rip it off your body, leaving you in a flimsy t-shirt to combat the winter cold. 

Chenle sighs, “I know you’re mad at me but you’re going to get sick if you walk home like that. It’s cold.”

You scoff in response, “Lucky for you then, because you don’t need to worry about me anymore.” In a quieter voice you say. “I was probably just a burden to you this whole time.” 

The boy immediately opposes the statement, “You were never a burden, I liked hanging out with you. I care about you.” 

“Only because it helped you win that stupid bet, and to make your ex jealous!” You exclaim, finally looking into his sorry eyes. He looks tired, you almost falter in your stance before putting up the wall separating you two that had always been there before the day he drove you home. 

You wished he had never approached you, because the Chenle in your dreams would never do this to you. 

It’s in that moment that you feel the weight of the dove on your neck, your finger move to unhinge it as you place it on top of the hoodie resting against his chest. You watch his jaw tense as he looks at you. You make eye contact one last time with the blonde haired boy in front of you, Before sadly turning away. 

“Y/n please,” it’s the weakest you’ve ever heard his usually booming voice. “Don’t leave me like this. What about our promise, huh? You’re breaking my heart right now.” Chenle knows the attempt to get you to stay is pathetic and desperate but he’s at a loss of what to do. 

Angrily, you spit. “You broke my heart the moment you approached me that day so I guess that promise was made to be broken wasn’t it?” 

Chenle watches you walk away with your arms wrapped tightly around your shaking body. He sees as you walk past a trash can and dump all your letters into it, wiping your tears and starting your journey to the bus stop. 

And he would never share this with you, walks up the trash can with tears in his eyes and reaches into the garbage, picking out every letter in there. He figures it’s the only piece of your heart he can manage to save for himself. It’s proof that the hate you now hold in your heart for him was once love. 

Even if he ruined everything. 

-

You never knew they called it heartbreak because your chest physically hurts this much. At times you feel like throwing up, at others you want to throw all your belongings across your room. The pain was almost unbearable at the beginning, embarrassing and hot flashes of anger running through you constantly as you think back to that moment.

You don’t go to school that Monday, telling your mom you were feeling sick. Which isn’t entirely a lie, especially when you see Chenle’s car pull up outside your house that morning. You feel like throwing up again. You’re angry at him. So so angry that he thinks things will be the same after what he did. That he thinks he can pull up at your house and drive you around after completely breaking your heart. 

You pull the blinds down as your mom comes through your door. “Honey, Chenle is here.”

“Tell him to leave.” You seeth, tears running down your face. You wipe them away frustratedly. “Tell him to never come back here, Mom.”

Your mother watches with sad, sympathetic eyes. Before nodding solemnly and closing the door on her way out. 

Due to a strange urge, you peek through the blinds and wait to see him walk out your driveway. He does, dragging his feet. Much to your dismay, he stops suddenly and turns to face your window. You immediately step away in the darkness of your room, away from the light and Chenle’s eyes. 

-

Three weeks pass, things at school remain the same for the most part. You hang out with Donghyuck like you used to. You try your best to not look over at the athletes table even when you feel Chenle’s eyes on you. However, somethings do change, you no longer spend your class time daydreaming about a certain blonde boy, or writing love letters on the back pages of your notebook about how pretty his eyes look when they catch the light. Instead, you stare out the window of your classrooms, wanting nothing more than to be in your room away from everyone once again. You sigh and look away from the window momentarily before looking up again. You startle as you see Chenle on the other side of the glass. Watching you with eyes that looked like they had a lot to say. You shudder  when you take in the bag under his eyes and exhaustion written all over his face. You want to believe it’s because of you, you hope it is. You hope he can’t sleep at night thinking of you. Nevertheless, you remember what happened on Valentine’s Day and realize you were probably too insignificant to him to have caused him to be this way. 

He softly smiles at you, bringing his hesitant hands up to wave at you, only for you to avert your eyes away from him and to the teacher at the front of the room. 

Chenle looks down dejectedly before continuing his walk, meanwhile you sit at your desk, wanting to escape more than ever. 

-

Three days later, your mother informs you that you have a visitor. “Tell him I don’t want to see him.” 

“It’s not Chenle.” She says before confusedly adding: “He said his name is Jisung.” 

Jisung? What the hell is he doing here? “I’ll be down in a minute.” 

When you finally get down stairs Jisung smiles awkwardly at you before gesturing towards the door. “Do you like milkshakes?” 

-

“What is this about?” 

The words that say heavy on your tongue the whole car ride here finally leave you as you sit across Jisung at Billy’s. He sips his milkshake before clearing his throat to speak. “How have you been?” 

You’ve been really shitty. “I’ve been fine, I guess.”

Jisung hums, rubbing his hand together before sighing. “I guess we should just get straight to the point, then.” He pauses, “Have you spoken to Chenle recently?”

While you figured this meeting had something with Chenle, you still sit up straighter when you hear his name. You clear your throat as if this is a kind of declaration. “No. I haven’t spoken to him since Valentine’s day.” You don’t want to ask about him, so you try the next best thing. “Why- why do you ask?” 

“I haven’t seen him since last week.” Jisung says, something in your stomach doesn’t sit right. “He’s been missing practice, which he never did, and he’s not answering any of my messages or calls. And the pre-final game is tomorrow and no one has heard from him.” 

His words are bazar. Basketball is unarguably the most important thing in Chenle’s life, why would he risk this chance of winning the championship like this? “He hasn’t spoken to me either, sorry.” You say, but your mind is fogged with worry as to where the boy could be. Jisung remains silent for some time before he clicks his tongue. 

“I know what happened between you two.” You avoid his gaze and feel blood rush to your cheeks. “And I think you’re right for not talking to him after that.” 

How could he say that about his best friend? Still, you nod. “But I think you only know a part of what’s really going on here.”

“Huh?”

“I mean, yeah. The whole thing started as a bet, but after a few weeks Chenle told me that something changed. He said he didn’t want to do the bet anymore, that he felt guilty for using you like that because he ended up really really liking you Y/N and I’m not just saying this because he is my best friend or anything but I think when the time is right, you should give him a chance.”

You finally look up at him and realize upon feeling a tear trail down your face that you were crying. You wipe it away quickly and sigh. “I don’t know, Jisung. He really hurt me, I was so embarrassed I felt like I could die.” 

“Sometimes we make stupid decisions.” The ‘we’ reminds you of the story of Jisung and his girlfriend’s love story that Chenle animatedly told you about one night you stayed at his house. You remember wondering how someone as sweet as Jisung could do any of those things, and how his girlfriend could forgive him for any of it.However, you knew the love they had for each other in their hearts was more than the anger due to his actions. You wonder if the attachment you have for Chenle would ever be enough. 

Jisung reads your mind. “I think he loves you.”

Your eyes become wide as planets before you scoff in disbelief. “Don’t say that.” You say, weak hearted.

“He does! While you two were still a thing he wouldn’t stop talking about how cute you were, how good you are at basketball and how you have the same glow in the dark stars on your ceiling that he does.” 

What? You didn’t think cared enough to talk about you or to remember those details. “He told you that?” 

Jisung nods, “And a lot of other things, but I don’t think we’ll have the time.” 

“He… he never told me he loved me.” You thought Chenle had just come into your life as a lesson to always be on your guard, to never let anyone in and protect yourself above others. But now… you wonder if you meant more to Chenle than you thought.

“Take it from me,” Jisung says, “sometimes those 8 letters can be the hardest to say.” 

🏀

Once you’ve parted ways with Jisung, (who offered to drive you home to which you politely declined to, telling him the walk home would give you time to think) you make your way home on your dirty sneakers and think about what Jisung said. 

It’s hard to believe that Chenle would actually say those things about you, while knowing he was playing you. You wondered if it really did change for him like Jisung said, and if he really felt sorry like he was telling you that day in the parking lot. 

You’re so lost in thought that you don’t realize the familiar car parked in front of your house until you hear the voice your heart has been longing to hear for weeks now. “Is Y/N home?” 

You bolt to the nearest bush and duck behind it, close enough to hear their words but far enough that Chenle and your conflicted mother are unaware of your presence. “Oh, I’m sorry sweetie she went out a few hours ago.” 

“Oh.” You flinch when you hear the disappointment in his voice. “Can you tell her I stopped by?” And that I miss her, he wants to say but you don’t know that. “And please give this to her too if it’s not too much trouble.” You hear shuffling as Chenle hands whatever it is he wanted to give you to your mom. 

“I will, sweetie.” Your mom says. “And Chenle?” There's a pause in which he hums. “Get some sleep, honey.”

You can imagine that Chenle throws her his signature polite smile, “I will try, Ma’am.” 

It’s not longer after that you hear his sneakers against the steps of your porch and see him get into his car. You have a perfect view of him from where you are. Watching as he frustratedly runs his hands through his hair and throws his head back against the seat. You don’t know why you feel sorry for him. You know you should be angry but after what Jisung told you, you need to stop yourself from going to him. 

-

You contemplate if even looking inside the bag is a decision. 

It sits in front of you neatly on your bed where you had placed it after your mother handed it to you with a worried: “He looks so tired, Y/N.” Which caused hurt to arise in your heart. 

The bag is a bright red one, the type that usually is full of candies and sweets, maybe flowers. You want to know what is inside manically, but you're afraid about what this would mean for your relationship (if you could even call it that) with Chenle. Is this his final goodbye or is this him trying to get you back?

You had to know.

Upon opening it, you are shocked to see a pale yellow envelope with your name written in Chenle’s messy handwriting on top. You grab it with shaky hands, the texture is different somehow, because for the first time ever, this letter was meant for you.  

Inside, there is a loose leaf paper much like the ones you had sent to him neatly folded. Your heart beats in your ear as you finally see the first words, you breathe in deeply and read away.

“Y/N, 

       I thought for a long time about what I would say to you in this letter, I’ve been sitting on it for three weeks trying to find the right things to say that would convince you to forgive me before I realized that they all sounded tacky and cliche when I read them back. So, i’ve decided to just go with the truth. It’s true that at first I wasn't honest with you, that I only approached you to complete a dare my friends had given me that day and I won’t make any excuses because I was such a huge asshole to you. I was just so hurt that day because of Ava and I wanted to make her feel like shit so bad, I wanted to hurt her like she had hurt me and I used you to do so, Y/N. But after I approached you and started spending time with you,I started thinking back to all the times I would look at you when the sun came in through the window in the English classroom before I had even spoken a word to you. I bet you didn’t know I did that, did you?” 

You didn’t, the you at that time would’ve freaked out if she knew though.

“I remember thinking you were so pretty, that you were untouchable to me so i just never tried. But something changed when i got to know you, i realized that you were the coolest person i’ve ever met, that you were real and that you were there with me whenever i needed someone. No one has ever made me feel so safe and comforted. I became selfish with you because I never wanted it to end. I didn’t want to tell you because i was scared you would hate me do you hate me? The night before valentines i went to your house because i planned on telling you everything the next day, i wanted to see your happy eyes just once more just in case i ruined everything. On Valentine’s day, when i got to school and read your letters. You wouldn’t believe how happy I was to read all the wonderful things you said about me. I was so happy that you held me as close to your heart as I held you to my own. I was going to tell you everything after that, i was going to confess and tell you that i couldn’t go another day with this secret. I was going to tell you how i felt but Ava stopped me, she told me she knew about the bet and then she kissed me and that's when you showed up. I’m so sorry you had to see that, I’m so that i used you like that. I’m sorry that I took advantage of you but I want you to know that I meant everything I told you, I loved spending time with you, and being with your family made me feel so special. I remember thinking we were split aparts and i know that sounds stupid but i really want you to know that i meant it. And every kiss we shared and every time I held you I felt it and I really really really mean it when i say that i loved you. I loved you so much that I didn't ever want to lose you.”

The past tense makes your chest tighten.

“I won’t tell you to forgive me, but your spot on the bleachers looks so empty without you. The pre finals are tomorrow and i would love it if you came, to cheer me on like you used to. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to but I wanted to give you something that would portray how serious I am about this. That if you are willing to come cheer me on with a part of me with you.”

This when you reach into the bag and pull out the item that once laid underneath your letter. The 22 of Chenle’s basketball jersey stares back at you, you gasp as you hold the fabric in your fingers. You had watched him run around the court with this very jersey plenty times before, you knew how much being number 22 meant to him. You were grateful he would trust you so important to him, you really wanted to grab his face and tell him that. Instead, you finish reading the letter. 

“You make me feel brave. And I will forever be sorry for what I did to you, but I mean it when I say I loved you I still love you. 

Please come.                                                         - Zhong Chenle.”

He loves you! Present tense. You could almost jump from joy. You want to see him, tell him you love him too. A million times if you can. You want to say that you forgive him for everything, that you have felt incomplete without him these past few weeks and the Chenle you made up in your mind was too perfect anyway. 

-

Chenle sighs for the upteenth time the next afternoon as he stretches along with his teammates. He tries his best to take his mind off of you for the time being, at least until after the game is over, he needed to focus but he found it very hard when he began to wonder what was going through your head when you read his letter, and if you were coming today.

He startles when he feels a hand on his shoulder. Hopeful, he turns. His hopefulness fades away when he sees Jisung standing before him. 

“Damn don’t look too sad to see me.” He jokes. Chenle shakes his head

“It’s not that…” Chenle explains, biting his lip nervously and subconsciously looks toward the bleakers where your empty seat was. Jisung gets the hint. 

“Chenle,” he says. “It's okay, she’ll come.” 

Chenle wants to ask him how he is so sure, that if he were you, he would hate himself too. Instead, he nods at him and readjusts the waistband of his shorts on his hips as the coach calls for the team to step out onto the court. 

People immediately start cheering for the players as they come into the view, girls go crazy in the stands and the members’ friends and families cheere enthusiastically from the side lines. The players smile and wave at their ‘fans’ doing a lap around the court to warm up and high five audience members. 

Chenle can only bring himself to smile half heartedly and wave weakly due to the fact that your spot on the bleachers still remains empty. 

He sighs out again, puffing his cheeks as the referee finally calls for the first round. That’s when his adrenaline starts pumping and he feels a bit better. 

The game goes on. 

-

Chenle’s jersey is only a bit big on you, almost fitting like something that would be your size, still, you try to pull it down over your hips in a nervous habit. You finally made it to the game, having fun late due to traffic. The spot you usually sit in is occupied by a woman holding a baby, so you decide to stay and watch from the sidelines, standing. 

The first time you see him, he is running across the court so fast he becomes a blur. You only know it’s him because of the head of blonde hair you see in the blurry image. He looks breathtaking as always, his hair being pushed away from his face by a sweat band being an addition to his look you wouldn’t mind seeing again. 

His sneakers squeak against the floor as he gets in position to shoot. You cross your fingers, but something is off. His eyebrows are furrowed in something that doesn’t look like concentration, but more like worry. His legs give him the impulse to jump up and soon enough his arms are shooting the ball towards the basket. You watch in disappointment as it hits against the rim and bounces back at him, he catches it with a frustrated click of his teeth. 

The audience has already begun whispering, having never seen the star player miss a shot. 

One of his teammates comes up to give him a fist bump of comfort, Chenle accepts it but still holds a troubled look on his face. The thought crosses your mind that it might  be because of you, it troubles the organ in your chest as much as it warms it. You notice he keeps glancing at a certain part of the bleachers, this is when you know he meant everything and that he surely is waiting for you. 

“Chenle!” You yell, trying to get his attention.

The boy doesn’t look your way, your voice getting lost in constant shouts and chatter from the people in the crowd. You try again, louder this time. Nothing. 

You groan frustratedly, the boy continues the game the best he can, but he’s out of it. You hate to see him like this, a deep hurt in your chest rising up. You cheer for him as loud as you can, deciding it would be better to wait until after the game to see him. 

As the game is coming to an end, Chenle appears to grow more and more tired and absent. Nevertheless, his team scores the winning point and the audience goes wild, including you. Chenle smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

 You can’t wait to hold him and tell him you forgive him for everything and that everything is going to be okay, and be with him for real this time. To have him be yours and be best friends against, go on nightly drives and have impromptu dance parties, to lay on his bed and count the plastic stars on his ceiling, to kiss him and be close to him. 

And for it to be real.

🏀

Chenle can’t help but feel dejected when your seat was never taken by you. He should’ve known this would happen, that is true but there was a fraction of him that thought you would read his letter and realize how sincere he was, he thought there was a part of you that knew it had been real and there was no way everything he said could've been made up. But he was wrong, and now as he packs his gym bag to go home, he faces the consequences of his high hopes. 

He’s mad, practically throwing his belongings in his bag, he almost throws his phone in the trash can next to him when he hears the ringtone go off. Chenle answers it with an irritated, “What?”

“Hey.” He recognizes your voice that same instant, still he pulls his phone back and makes sure its your caller ID before speaking again. 

“Y/N? Oh my god, hi!” He clears his throat  before repeating himself. “I mean, hi, hey.”

You hold back a laugh, noting his nervousness. “I’m sorry for calling so suddenly.” You decide to tease him, although, unbeknownst to him, you wear standing about 20 feet behind him after finally finding him in the now that the crowd of people has dispersed after the game. 

“No, don’t worry about it. I was actually…” Chenle flicks the zipper of his bag with his nervous fingers, “I was waiting to hear from you.” 

“Were you?” 

“Yeah, I wanted a chance to talk things out with you and uhh… i'm sorry if me asking you to come out to the game was too much or if it made you uncomfortable I didn’t-“

“Chenle.” Your voice cuts his rant short. You internally marvel at the fact that you aren’t the one caught in a nervous ramble for once. “It didn’t make me uncomfortable. I’m here.” 

“You’re here?” Someone clicks in his mind as he frantically looks around him in an effort to find you. When he does, his eyes turn soft and a smile takes over his face. “You came.” 

You nod at him, feeling a bit overwhelmed when you finally make eye contact with him. There are people between you too, Chenle begins to close it as he walks forward. “I did. I just wanted to tell you that I missed you.” 

“I missed you more, I swear on it.” He replies.

Your eyes burn, you wipe them and lighten the mood. “And that Curry would be sad to see you so out of it at a game.” You click your teeth jokingly. “What do you think he would say if he saw you like that cause of a girl?” 

He laughs, “I think he would understand, after I tell him how amazing you are.” 

You blush. “I also wanted to tell you that your jersey smells like you, and I like it.” This makes him beam, speeding up his footsteps that carry him to you. 

“Is that it?” He asks, jokingly. 

“And that I love you, Zhong Chenle. Not the Zhong Chenle that I had a crush on for 3 years and not Number 22 but you. The rawest versions of you. I love all of it and that i forgive you for everything.” He slows his pace in shock, his chest heaving. 

“You mean that?” His voice is wavering and you can see the flush on his cheeks from how close he has gotten. Suddenly, he is taking big steps until he is directly in front of you. He puts his phone down and his pretty eyes look directly into your own. 

Chenle’s face is hopeful, happy and lovestruck. He whispers: “You love me?”

You can only nod, overwhelmed. Chenle smiles wide, you can almost see his molars and his eyes disappear. “Say it.” He says, in a wondrous tone. 

“I love you, Zhong Chenle.” 

“Oh my god, yes!” 

And he’s kissing you, arms wrapping around you and pressing your body against his, his finger grip at the jersey on your body and he moves his lips against yours. Every memory that you have ever shared, every kiss, every touch, and every laughing fit come to your mind. It’s all you can think about as you think about this boy. You don’t think about the bad part, because that doesn’t matter anymore now that Chenle is yours and you are never letting go.

-

4 months later; Graduation 

“Chenle! Come on!” Jisung yells as he sees the boys floppy newly dyed orange hair amongst the crowd of people. 

You were all posed for a picture, blue cap and gowns adorning your bodies and your parents huddle you together for a picture. “I’m coming!”

Your boyfriend appears from the crowd with his cap in his hand along with a giant bouquet of flowers. He walks directly to you, extending it with a smile. “For you.” 

Your friends start squealing, playful hitting you and Chenle and your parents smirk at each other at the portrayal of young love before them. You cover your face with your hands to hide your blush. Chenle laughs and hugs you to his side. 

“Y/N! Chenle! Pose for the picture!” 

The two of you run to where your other friends are posing, haphazardly getting into the frame and posing crazily. 

The air is full of laughter and youth as the sun begins to set on your time in high school. For a moment, you’re too busy basking in the presence of the relationships you have developed while in there that you forget you won’t be seeing these people every day like you had been for so many years. Or that your lives might take completely different courses and things won’t be the same after this. Instead you allow yourself to enjoy this moment. 

🏀

You do think about it when you are on your way home though, in the passenger’s seat of Chenle’s car. His hand holds yours over the gear and he smiles to himself while humming along to the songs on the radio, unaware of the internal conflict going on in your head. 

It wasn’t until he parks outside your house that he realizes that something is wrong. 

“What is going to happen to us now?” Is your reply to his questioning. Chenle’s eyebrows furrow.

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean-“ you collect your thoughts, “high school is over, and we’re going to go to college and we will be so busy and what if-“ 

“Whatever you think will happen, won’t happen.” 

You look at him, offended that he could dismiss your worries so easily. “You don’t un-“ 

“I do understand. You’re worried that now that we won’t see each other every day that we’re going to drift apart, right? And that we won’t be together, am I right?” 

You nod silently. 

“Y/N, how many times am I going to tell you that I’m crazy in love with you? I won’t let you slip out of my hands, baby. Not again.” Chenle says firmly, sincerely. His eyes widen so you can see right through him and know he is telling the truth. 

His pale hands come up to cup the sides of your face, making you face him. Your tear filled eyes meet his own. He brushes away your tear that rolls down your cheek. “I’m sorry, I was just overthinking.” You say.

“Don’t be sorry.” Chenle shakes his head, leaning forward to kiss your cheek lovingly, letting it linger for a few seconds before pulling back. Smiling upon seeing your smiling face. 

It happens in a flash, now that the moment was right. Chenle gasps, starling you. “What?! What’s wrong?!”

“I love this song!” And he’s turning it up all the way on the car radio, rolling down the windows and stepping out. “Come on, Y/N!” 

You don’t let him see the pure happiness on your face that you wanted to mask with annoyance. Chenle dances on the sidewalk crazily and you laugh in the passenger’s seat. You decide it was best to not let your boyfriend embarrass himself alone, wiping the excess of your tears and step out of the car. “M’lady has arrived to the dance party!” He exclaims. 

And as you start dancing wildly together, the sun begins to set causing a golden hue to fall over your features. Anyone watching the scene could either think that you’re crazy or they will see what is really there: split aparts that have finally found one another. 

Chenle thinks so too, he stops dancing for a bit to catch his breath and just watches you. He remembers the pain it took to make you his, how much you both cried and the beginning of the relationship was far from ideal. But there is no doubt in his mind that there are not enough glow in the dark ceiling stars in this world that will amount to the love he harbors for you in his chest. He was so happy that he had met his split apart, he couldn’t thank the universe enough. 

This when he reaches forward and spins you around to face him. His chest against your own, you feel the rumble of his words from his chest when he says: “I’m so glad I found you.” And then he is kissing you, and the ground seems to melt away from your feet. You’re floating hundreds of feet in air and forget to take a view of your neighborhood from up here because Chenle is all you can think about. Because he makes you feel this way. You whisper in between kisses, he smiles knowingly, he feels it too. 

“We. 

Are.

Off.

Our.

Feet.”

[elliewritessometimes]

hello. have you seen this post by @notsomightymightytiger?? that’s my friend!!! and this is completely and utterly inspired by that and completely and utterly written for her. love you stabby friend <3

also known as: the tigers go to disneyland, kateva like to kiss, chess, reese and mattie have an understated bromance and cheerwives can actually be fluffy for once

tw: swearing, theme park kind of things??? aka rollercoasters and fireworks and all that. as always, let me know if i’ve missed anything

(sidenote idk if you can tell but i have never in my life been to disneyland don’t come for me if i wrote it all wrong i tried my best)

---

"We're going to Disneyland."

There was silence in the gym for a solid thirty seconds before all hell broke loose.

"WhAT???"

"Wait, really?!?"

"Oh my God, Riley, you're the best, oh my gOd!"

"Why the fuck did you think that taking us to fucking Disneyland was a good idea??" Kate looked less than pleased at the proposition, a stark contrast to the delighted faces of Reese and Mattie.

Riley smiled brightly. "Team bonding!!"

Kate rolled her eyes. "Right. Of course." Their voice rose in pitch, sarcasm delicately lacing their words. "For the best of the team-"

Chess cut them off, not so subtly stamping on her foot. "Katherine, please."

Farrah had been wobbling on her tiptoes, peering over Annleigh's shoulder. She gave a long-suffering groan. "Annleigh, Clark's not a Tiger, he can't come."

"But-"

"No. It's unfair."

Annleigh ignored her sister and switched her attention to Riley, making her best puppy eyes at the captain. Riley only widened her smile. It probably hurt her face a little bit. "You know what? Fine. Clark can come. It's gonna be fun, right?!"

Annleigh giggled at the answer, sticking her tongue out at a fuming Farrah. Kate was in a similar predicament, being held back by a smirking Chess with an arm around their shoulder. They pulled out their phone as well, already dialling a number, “If Annleigh’s boyfriend gets to come, then my girlfriend should be allowed as well. Otherwise that’s nepotism.”

“Fine.” Riley was steadily regretting her decision to hold a cheer trip. On her left, Cairo squeezed her hand, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. Kate gagged in their direction. “You better not, Kate, or I’m banning your girlfriend from Disneyland.”

“Fuck you.”

“Wait,” Reese spoke up, “If Kate and Annleigh can have Eva and Clark, and Cairo and Riley have each other, can I bring my boyfriend?”

“No more significant others!” Riley clapped her hands, ignoring Reese’s pout. “If you can’t get Eva and Clark here in the next eight minutes, we will be leaving them behind! I paid so much money for these tickets and we will not be late.”

The team headed towards the door, being greeted by Eva and Clark already standing beside Cairo’s minivan. They split the rides evenly between the van and Chess’ car (Kate was more than pissed to find that their best friend had been in on the plan all along). 

At one point, Mattie took Reese’s hand. “Hey, even if you can’t bring your boyfriend, you’ve got me, right? Ultimate bromance and all that?”

Reese grinned and squeezed the freshman’s hand. “Hell yeah.”

-

���I want that pin.”

“No, you don’t.” Reese hugged the Belle pin closer. 

Chess held out a hand. “Yeah, but I do though.”

Reese shook her head.

“Look, I’ll give you my Tinkerbell diamond one.” They held out the rare pin in their other hand.

“No! Belle is my favourite!”

“She’s my favourite as well though!”

Cairo sighed. “We’ve been here literally ten minutes.”

Reese linked arms with Mattie, turning on her heel to walk off, “I’m going now and you’re not getting my Belle pin!!!!”

“HEY!” Chess chased after the two, trying so hard to keep up their grumpy demeanour and failing when a smile crept onto their face.

Turning to an anxious-looking Riley, Cairo sighed again. By now, she’d sighed more than she’d spoken today. “Chess does know that they could just... buy their own Belle pin if they really wanted, right???”

“It’s the fun of it, Cai.” Riley looked around, craning her neck. “Where on Earth have the other five members of our team gone?”

“Holy shit.” At this rate, Cairo must have been running out of oxygen from the intense sighing. “It has been. Ten. Minutes.”

-

Farrah wouldn't call herself a Disneyland regular, but she's been a few times before. She remembered a time before her mother had left, when she was still just a little kid, coming to the park for the first time. It had been the kind of magical that only a child can experience, filled with glitter and laughter and something that might have been called family. Her mother bought bubblegum flavoured cotton candy, handing the stick to a seven-year-old Farrah with a smile and a wink. They agreed that it was the first thing that you had to do when going to Disneyland - buy cotton candy. Every time since, Farrah bought the same bubblegum pink sugar from the same tacky stand and ate it with the same wonder as she did the very first time.

Now, Farrah had a new family. In, perhaps, more ways than one. Here, away from home, she's still with her family, maybe a slightly dysfunctional one made up of teenage cheerleaders (and Clark), but still, they are her family in one way or another.

Annleigh returned as Farrah was mulling over all this, a stick of worryingly neon pink cotton candy in her hand. "Figured you'd want to start the day off with your usual sugar rush."

Farrah took the treat with a smile, wondering if Annleigh is only so glad to buy such unhealthy food because at least it's not alcohol. "Thanks."

"Come on, ladies! We've got a whole park to explore!" Clark had apparently already visited a store, a pair of Mickey ears stretched over his head. Farrah rolled her eyes, but followed her sister and brother-in-law (nearly) further down the street because, after all, they are her family.

-

“I can’t believe you’ve never been to fucking Disneyland before,” Eva looked mildly horrified, “Has Chess never taken you?”

“I didn’t really want to go.”

Eva narrowed her eyes. “Why the fuck-”

“Reasons.” Kate’s voice was sharp and Eva backed off, only kissing the top of their head. Kate squeezed her hand in response. “Anyway, come on, show me everything. Mountain rides challenge, right?”

“Ugh, Katie, the queues with be forever...”

“Lucky for you, I’ll be there to while away the time with you.” She winked, laughing when Eva blushed. “Let’s go.”

-

Of all the things to happen at Disneyland, Reese was not expecting to get sneak attacked by a literal cuddly pig. She yelped, reaching a hand to smack it away, nearing the point of ‘this might as well happen’, when a small head poked out from behind the toy. Mattie grinned, “Boo!”

“Jesus Christ, you scared the life out of me.”

The younger girl giggled brightly. “Look what I got!”

“...Is that the pig from Moana?”

“Obviously.” Mattie rolled her eyes. “You should know by now that Moana is the best Disney movie of all time.”

Reese rummaged in her backpack for a second before pulling out yet another pin. “Look! Moana pin. Girl, I would give it to you, but me and Chess are tryna see who can get the most pins by the end of the day. Speaking of, was Chess in the store?”

“Yeah, actually.” She hesitated. “Dude, I hate to tell you this, but they had a Belle pin.”

“Shit.”

-

Perhaps queuing had been a mistake. It had probably been hours. Kate would have known more accurately if they’d worn a watch like Chess always told them to. She was stubborn though, and hadn’t. “Aves...” 

“Yeah?”

“How long have we been waiting?”

“Twenty-five minutes.”

“Oh.” They craned their neck to see over the heads in front of them, realising that they were only a few people from the front. “Oh.”

Eva laughed and took her partner’s hand again, “Told you the queues were long.”

However, in only a matter of minutes, they were seated in an uncomfortable car, the seatbelts just a little too tight to be comfortable and a little too loose to feel actually safe. To say Kate was uncomfortable would be an understatement. She was also maybe a tiny bit scared. 

Eva squinted at them. “You look like you’re gonna throw up.”

“I’m fine.” 

And so the ride began.

Around halfway through, they began the steady climb to the highest peak. Kate turned to Eva, yelling over the shouts of other passengers. “Hey, babe? Remember when I said I didn’t come here with Chess because of reasons? Now might be a good time to tell you that those reasons are that I’m scared of heights.” 

“You fucking idiot.” Eva turned carefully to them, holding their hands tighter, worry and amusement shining in her eyes. The car reached the peak of the ride. “Look at me and don’t fucking think about looking down. It’s okay.” She cupped her cheek. They fell suddenly and Kate's heart jumped into her throat. Eva laughed a little at their surprise. “You know what they say, babe, you gotta confront your fears straight on.”

“I can’t do anything straightly.”

And that was how they found themselves kissing on a rollercoaster, hair slightly in their faces, just as the camera shutter went off. 

-

The team somehow reconvened for lunch, stopping on a bench somewhere as Clark unpacked a multitude of sandwiches and juice boxes. Of course, only Clark, Annleigh and Riley ended up eating the home-brought food, everyone else opting to buy their own trashy, mostly-sugar lunch. 

“How the fuck did you know to bring all this if we only organised the trip this morning?” Kate sounded suspicious, eyeing Clark like he was the imposter. 

Clark looked mildly sheepish. “Oh... We all knew already.”

“WHAT?”

“Yeah, sorry Kitkat.” Chess stifled a snort of laughter. “We organised this weeks ago. We had a group chat and everything.”

Kate spluttered for a second. “Alright, traitors, who else was left out of this?”

Mattie, Farrah and Reese all raised a hand. 

“This makes no sense. Cairo, I trust you to tell the truth, why the fuck didn’t you tell us?!”

Cairo smirked. “We didn’t tell Mattie and Farrah because they’re children-”

“Rude!” Mattie smacked Cairo on the arm. “I am possibly more responsible than half of the rest of you.”

Riley cut in. “Don’t be silly, Cai. We didn’t tell Reese, Mattie or Farrah because they like Disney the most and we wanted it to be a surprise treat for them.”

The rest of the group made noises of appreciation or fondness. Kate, however, was less than pleased, “What about me?!”

“Oh, we just wanted to see your face when we announced it.” Cairo didn't hold back.

“Fuck you all.” But they were holding back a smile, already moving on to the next thing. “Hey, Farrah, you okay? Why aren’t you eating?”

The sophomore groaned. “I feel sick.”

Annleigh hugged her sister to her side, rubbing her back gently. ‘It’s because you ate all that cotton candy earlier.”

“It was so good, though.” Farrah frowned, regretting her past-self and her need for sugar. 

Clark reached into his backpack, pulling out a pair of Minnie ears, before plonking them awkwardly on Farrah’s head. He grinned. “That’ll make you feel better!”

“Dude, I don’t know, but thanks for the effort.” She fought a smile, reaching up to arrange the ears around her plaits. 

-

Riley had been anxious about the trip ever since it had been first suggested. She’d pored over the plans for hours on end, triple checking each detail with Cairo and Chess. Now that they were here, it was all going well enough. Sure, maybe they had gotten lost a couple of times, and sure, maybe they hadn’t stayed as much of a team as she’d planned, but yeah, it was going fine. Everyone else was having fun. 

“Hey, Rye, you doing okay?”

She nodded with a smile, clutching Cairo’s hand. “Yup! All good!”

Cairo did not look convinced. “Look, you've been stressing about everyone else all day, how about we leave them be and go visit some princesses, huh?”

“Cai... Cai, that would be honestly amazing.” Hesitating, she watched the retreating backs of the rest of the team. “You’re sure they’ll be okay?”

“They’ll be fine, I promise. Besides, they’ve got Clark and Chess and Eva in case anything goes wrong.” The taller girl didn’t hesitate from naming who she perceived as the ‘responsible ones’. 

“Okay.” Riley opened her mouth to suggest a destination, when they were approached by the one and only Peter Pan. 

“Hey!”

“OhmygodCai.” She clung to her girlfriend’s arm. “It’s Peter Pan.”

Cairo snorted, nudging Riley to spark her reply. She watched as the two had what was possibly the purest and most wholesome conversation she had ever heard, sneakily taking photos that she would treasure because of Riley’s true delight. Riley skipped towards her after a couple of minutes, grinning properly from ear to ear. “That was so cool!”

“Amazing, Rye. Who shall we visit next?”

“Oh my God, we have to see Tangled!”

“....Rapunzel.”

Riley paused from where she was dragging Cairo into another set of rooms. “What?”

Cairo laughed, “She’s not called Tangled, babe, her name’s Rapunzel.” 

“Oh. Yeah, right, of course, forgot.”

The other girl only laughed harder. “You're so stupid, Jesus Christ, I love you.”

Riley blushed. “Love you too.”

-

“So you did the mountain rides challenge.”

“Yes. Obviously.”

“And somehow, just magically, you two found yourselves making out in every single ride photo.” Chess crossed their arms, grinning at the couple in front of them.

“I- It was noT making out!!” Kate spluttered a reply, hiding her face in Eva’s shoulder. Chess only laughed harder.

Eva hummed as if she was making a difficult decision. “I don’t know, babe, you got pretty into it at one point.”

The senior cackled, high-fiving Eva over Kate's head. Kate continued to hide in their girlfriend's shoulder, only lifting a middle finger in Chess’ direction as a reply. Chess took the offending finger in their hand, pulling Kate up so she could walk between the other two. “Damn, Kitkat.”

“I’m not ever replying to that name again. I have been too attacked to allow it.”

Eva kissed the top of their head, “You came here to have a good time and you’re just feeling so attacked right now.”

“Exactly!” Kate nudged their head up into Eva’s chin, “This is why I’m dating you, meme girl.”

“Ew, gross.” Chess tugged Kate, who tugged Eva, who finally got them walking again. “Come on, lovebirds, it’s firework time.”

-

By the time the fireworks began, they’d been at the park for hours. Farrah still had her Minnie ears on, ones which Clark occasionally tried to steal due to his own ears being lost on one ride or another. Annleigh would only bat his hand away, laughing when he pressed kisses to her palm. 

Kate kissed Eva again when the first firework exploded above them, being caught by yet another camera, this time in the hands of Riley. The photo found its way onto the Tigers group chat by morning, greeted by a pouting Kate begging them to take it down against the protests of the rest of the team (“But you’re just so cute!”). Somehow, she didn’t complain when it even later worked its way onto Eva's Instagram feed. 

Chess and Reese jumped at the first fireworks, too absorbed in counting pins to pay attention to the rest of the world. Mattie wormed her way between them, sneakily stealing both Reese’s Moana pin and Chess’ newly-bought Belle pin. They were too distracted by the light show to notice and Mattie celebrated her little victory by also stealing some of the cotton candy that Farrah had bought herself again, despite her earlier regrets. She supposed some people never learnt.

Cairo stood quietly at the back of the group, showing a still-bouncing Riley the pictures taken with the various characters they’d encountered. Riley kissed her for the final firework, a silent ‘thank you’ for today. 

With the lights of Disneyland glimmering maybe slightly tackily behind the group, Riley took one last picture. It was them, the team, the Tigers, silhouetted in the lights but, if you zoomed in and maybe turned the brightness up a bit, you could still see them smiling. That made its way onto the group chat as well and maybe it still hangs in more than one of their rooms. It was certainly a day that qualified for the scrapbooks.

[sanchoyo]

danny phantom 14-20 thoughts!! I finished up s1 :D these last few eps were actually really really good!!!

-did. did tucker really just say esperanto was a dead language only spoken as a secret code between geeks. google says around 100,000 people actively speak it. oh my god...it being an auxiliary language doesn't mean its 'just for geeks to speak in code' ...it helps bridge gaps between people who don't have a language in common...

-danny really isn't pulling punches when it comes to fighting the ghost-cop possessed people huh. like he SLAMMED KWAN INTO THE CONCRETE SO HARD. HE THREW PAULINA INTO A BILLBOARD. will that...I mean it WOULD carry over to their bodies non-possessed, right? like if the ghost piloting their bodies gets hurt?? itd be so upsetting to be possessed, lose time, then wake up covered in bruises (and possibly, broken bones??) real horror movie stuff im sure wont be addressed in any way

-tuckers parents seem nice! I like them :)

-WULF IS CUTE AND I FEEL BAD. im so glad the gang realized he was only causing trouble bc of the shock collar walker put on him and helped. also, him wearing that big hoodie with the hood on, and thinking its subtle. we can tell youre still a giant wolfie :) THEN GETTING SUCKED INTO THE PORTAL AAAAH :( anxiously waiting to see Him Again....

-DANNY BLASTING HIS PARENTS THINKING THEY WERE OVERSHADOWED LMFAO GET THEIR ASSES. maddie marking how many ghosts she gets with lipstick tallies on the side of her portal gun? kindaaa iconic tho. (ALSO, SHE WAS LIKE, 2 FT AWAY FROM HIM RIGHT AFTER SHE TRIED TO SHOOT HIM. HOW DO YOU NOT RECONINZE YOUR OWN SON??? like sure, he might have diff hair/eye colors. but like, if one of my family members dyed their hair, and was wearing contacts, its not like id be like 'wHO IS THIS STRANGER!!!' ...he still has all his facial features!! same everything!!! I hate it here)

-paulina being #1 girl realizing danny's a friendly ghost immediately. smart queen. lancer and kwan ran away right after he made this sweet baby face at them:

which is hilarious.

-ok. im not saying his bullying is JUSTIFIED, but. dash looked so pleased with the (cute!) poster he just painted, and danny comes thru the wall and spills paint on his nice letterman jacket. his anger is justified maybe 65% of the time so far...(not the way he handles it, but STILL.) at least lancer is stepping in!! and them making a silly little bet was...cute?? until dash pulled out his GROSS UNDERWEAR AND SAID DANNY WOULD HAVE TO EAT THEM???? WHAT THE FUCK MAN. TUCKER WAS SO RIGHT ITS FUCKING WEIRD TO CARRY THOSE AROUND EWWW. THIS KID IS UNWELL. lancer was right, his animatronic setup was SUPER IMPRESSIVE?? hes actually pretty creative. danny meanwhile is stealing the fright knight's design...I hope dash is taking art classes or smth with his sports

-fright knight is the most bestest ghost so far i LOVE THAT DESIGN. I am biased towards knights, and characters with swords, but he fucks so severely. and should sue danny for copyright infringement for stealing his design for his haunted house. if some 14 yr old broke into MY house and stole MY sword, id also be pissed. his evil winged unicorn rules too with its FANGS. and he just CAN SHOVE THE PORTAL OPEN WITH HIS HANDS??? is he the strongest ghost weve seen so far? idk but hes my fav. SOUL SHREDDER IS SUCH A COOL SWORD NAME TOO. ANY NAMED SWORD ALSO FUCKS. 'flaming bedsheets of DEATH' funny king. ALSO he was polite to dash and tucker when just asking for directions and telling tucker 'oh maybe, just a suggestion, maybe be nicer to me and be more respectful :)' I LOOOVE HIM.

-I noticed this in the Ember ep, but jazz has an electric guitar in her room!! talent musical queen!! its cool to see hobbies just in the bg.

-fright knight's murder castle reminds me of the booby trapped murder castle in zexal!! another supposedly 'for kids' show with murder/trap castles! we love that. if you are a dp fan reading this, give yugioh zexal a try. its also got 13-14 year old protags and involves (alien) ghosts. the cardgame is just a vessel for the plot, which is really good. (I just want more people to watch my fav yugioh, man)

-danny. with a SWORD.

-danny doesnt NEED TO WIN this contest, dash didnt STEAL HIS DESIGNS AND STEAL A SWORD. he also got excited to hear lancer got sent to a dimension with his worst fears too just so he could win the contest? DANNY WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!!! BRO MAYBE YOURE 14 AND HAVENT FULLY DEVOLPED YOUR WHOLE BRAIN YET, BUT...THATS FUCKED. this kid casually says the most deranged things, I do worry for my spooky son. once again, therapy needed. that judo toss was great tho. I wonder if he actually did pick up some martial arts stuff from his mom?

-danny can fly 112 mph!!! thats so fast! I love the lil montage of him and his friends testing his abilities and stuff, very cute and a good way to showcase what he can do by now and how much more proficient he's gotten from ep 1!!! I'm sure he's going to get more abilities :)

-im glad...maddie's at least TRYING this ep. I do feel for her because her husband is a man baby. but the fact it took 16 episodes to get a kinda semblance of any kind of real concern or attempts at bonding. hmm. jack's 'BACK OFF SHES A MINOR' @ the ghost trying to attack jazz. also was very funny. and him wanting to make an action figure of her? are the parents redeeming themselves to me? slightly. they gotta Work Harder

-THE GHOST. IS FLYING. THE PLANE.

-fenton machete. but she doesnt carry a PHONE??? ???

-I mean I expected vlad when you namedrop him earlier in the ep, and also the title card picture, and dalv corp being fucking vlad backwards. but seeing him just pull up on a golf cart made me bust out laughing. WITH the gift baskets prepared. why wouldnt you at least be suspicious. also, if he wants danny to be his lil sonboy, why is he so fucking malicious?? dude you are going about this in such a bad way. stop it. get some help.

-maddie not even hesitating to drag danny out. fucking good. danny is so right, go on the internet to date. get a cat. how do you spend...how many years?? has it been since college?? at least 20, right, since the parents/vlad are in their 40s? hung up on ONE girl. my god, man. incel drama queen. her kung fu IS impressive, but dude. 'we both know hes a creep' SO right. it sucks but they do need a phone and shit being in the middle of NOWHERE. also, just stealing his helicopter was great. <3

-'you must be exhausted carrying the weight of that mistake you made years ago' 'well we all make mistakes. maybe I'll make one now!' WHY DID THIS EXHCHANGE SEND ME. AND VLAD WITH THE BREATH SPRAY EWWW BITCH. 'OLD BAIT BREATH' SOO RIGHT. both danny and his mom playing him HAHAH hes so dumb. or rather, I think he thinks with his emotions too too much and is...actually pretty gullible? lmao he believed danny was ready to give in SO fast. (which is sad hes that hopeful, like you have SO MUCH MONEY YOU COULD EASILY GET ANOTHER GIRL WHO HAS A KID. AND WOULD WANT TO BE WITH YOU AND BE SUPPORTED. GET OVER THIS (1) WOMAN ALREADY IM GETTING SECONDHAND EMBARRASSMENT AAAAH)

-GHOST BEAR GHOST BEAR GHOST BEAR. it was also in the title card, but I still got very excited. we love bears here

-SAM'S BAT SWIMSUIT COVERUP!!! her outfits are simply iconic.

-'i'd tell you to go to the mens room, but I don't think you qualify' top paulina transphobic moments. :( and him wearing a tanktop to the swim park? hmmm! (actually I think she was overshadowed by then, so, KITTY top 10 transphobic moments??)

-kitty just piloting paulina around makes me feel SO bad tho, paulina's gonna wake up and be like 'wtf do you mean I was dating this rando' like youre leading danny on to make johnny jealous, and also just POSSESSING POOR PAULINA. dude take your relationship problems ELSEWHERE. last time we saw them, they seemed like such a cute couple!! wtf johnny!! I mean, she sucks for trying to make him jealous, he sucks for looking at other girls...maybe they need a break, but Not Like This. or, you know, just. better communication...

-and the A-listers having a full packet and a stamp system. who organizes this. kwan fucking owning being the new danny though, this is hysterical. THE TUCKER/KWAN FLOWER FIELD TWIRL. UNIRONICALLY ADORABLE. and him giving it his all for the poetry slam. bless his HEARTTTT.

-Star owns. actually, all of the extra characters are shining this ep and I love it.

-INVISO-BILL??? NOOOO THEY DID HIM SOO DIRTY. DANNY SWEETIE IM SO SORRY.

-johnny and danny bein friends and staging a fake fight (which danny takes too seriously, once again this child has aggression he NEEDS TO WORK OUT) I hope these three stay friends, I said it before but danny needs more friendly ghosts to hang with.

-at this point, Danny's ghost enemies are a lot like, I dunno, batman's rouge gallery is the first thing that comes to mind. they all have their own gimmick and unique designs, but most of them are easy to beat after learning the Moral Lesson. I still get excited when any of them show up again, though. 18 is another valerie episode!!!! :D skulker really said you two will get along if I have to handcuff you together <3 and the gym teacher really said, youre married now, have a flour baby! ngl, I'm not really watching this show for the shipping stuff (which I am very scared to look at the fandom for after I finish this watch through- I feel like there's probably discourse/arguing about ships...) but. I'm gonna put my opinion out there. valerie/danny > sam/danny. maybe I just really love the enemies to lovers trope. And the secret identity stuff adds Extra Flavor.

-SKULKER JUST HAVING THE BOX GHOST AND DANGLING HIM BY A STRING. HILARIOUS. and him watching them with binoculars and making his silly little commentary. AND MAKING THE SACK BABY CRY. LMAO. THIS DUDE IS A BABY KIDNAPPER. skulker is super fun

-danny, you just...collapsed the water tower. and then attacked the nasty burger machine...mascot thingy...out of anger..I KEEP SAYING HE'S GOT ANGER ISSUES BUT. HE REALLY NEEDS A LESSON IN MANAGING COLLATERAL DAMAGE!!! So does valerie!! They're both pretty focused on each other. I mean it's good of Danny to say he's trying to make sure PEOPLE don't get hurt, but... (I mean I guess it's not something 14 year olds WOULD worry about, but as an adult im like, who's going to fix that? how much money will that take??)

-TUCKER MAKING BANK. and sam and tucker being super emotionally attached to their flour baby and being pretty good parents. that's cute...also him just straight kissing her and being like. WAIT. O_O JDSKAFHD. his mom baking them into cookies was the funniest possible result. tbh I dont feel like this is on tucker, if anything the other kid's shouldve been more responsible! He was just taking an opportunity to get that $$ which I respect

-Danny being more understanding of Valerie's situation in the end (helping her at her job, too, and trying to keep that a secret for her!!!) And seeing them work together this ep, and also her letting phantom get her out of the ghost zone...was very sweet. LOVE that. more valerie eps pls

-me when I realize vlad's big stupid house exploded because of his own carelessness with changing the ghost portal ectofiltrator or whatever: *pointing and laughing*

-me when I realize it means he's gonna go make danny's life hell for it somehow: >:(

-SCOOBY PARODY!!! I feel like there's gotta be some scooby doo/danny phantom crossover stuff, right? also, 'guys in white' men in black wishes

-'oh, that's right! dad married the love of your life! you're bitter and alone!' DANNNNNYY GET HIS ASS ONCE AGAIN WE ARE POINTING AND LAUGHING AT VLAD

-'jack, you captured the ghost boy!!' UMM. he did nothing <3 'we have a weapon's vault??' YOU HAVE A WEAPONS VAULT??? and jack didnt put a handle on the inside. of fucking course he didnt! why would you leave that to your son!! or expect him to clean YOUR LAB when its where you work with probably dangerous chemicals and weapons and hes 14!! give him normal chores, like, I dunno, vacuuming, laundry, dishes...CMON. I hate it here. But I'm glad Jack is more chill about danny while he's a ghost, and willing to work with him for this ep. AND. I DID ENJOY JACK PUNCHING VLAD IN THE FACE. AND GENERALLY JUST OWNING HIM. the ghost punchy fists are actually amazing. like yeah, just punch a ghost in the face. that rules.

-ep 20 opens with the coolest fucking ghost lady design. her tattoos can come off and fight. MA'AM. I like ur nose ring and your cape maam hello 👉👈😳

-sam's grandma is hilarious and the most valid member of her family and I love her. thats my grandma now. and tucker covering for sam by dressing as her. thats true friendship <3 also skipping school to go to a goth circus. just bestie things! sam's parents are haters but for all the wrong reasons.

-'my family has controlled ghosts with this for generations!' WAIT. WAIT FREAKSHOW /ISNT/ A GHOST? I didn't expect that...he's just a fucked up guy controlling ghosts? anyway watching danny shoot at police cars and rob banks while mind controlled. its like, the most stereotypical 'bad' things lmao. (tbh an evil ghost circus troupe is a sick concept)

this gives off big deviantart emo edit vibes

(I'm going to assume evil circus reaper danny has a lot of fan content. people love an edgy au, except this one is canon (even tho its via mind control...having the protag go evil otherwise might be hard, I guess?) but au where he stays with the troupe...that has to exist, right?)

ANYWAY. excited to start s2!! lowkey surprised by how many notes some of these posts have gotten. I've gone back and tagged them all with 'dp thoughts' so they're easier to find on my blog! ^^ and I will probably possibly do (more) fanart on my art blog after I finish the watch of the whole show, so like. @sanchoyodraws follow my art blog :)

[supermanshield]

Naps are overrated, anyway

~~~

There is a picture in the watchtower cafeteria of Superman and Batman, asleep on the Javelin. 

This is the story of how it came to be, and why Batman let it be.

~~~

Words: 4,092

Relationship: Clark/Bruce

A/N: I had the idea for this story a year ago. For the longest time, the summary you see right now was all I had typed out. Only now, after reading a bunch of JLA vol. 1 did I finally find the right characters, the right feeling and overall vibe, and wrote this in the past three days. 

It doesn’t completely comply with continuity, because while I imagine this set somewhere in the 1997-2006 JLA run, Bruce mentions 6 kids (he would have only had 2 at the time + a dead Jason), although they don’t make an appearance. And I'm actually not sure if the Javelin is a thing in that run, maybe that's just a DCAU thing. Just go with it.

Also, Bruce is a bit of a boomer in this. idk, I had fun writing him. 

Read on AO3

______________________________________________

Batman doesn’t nap.

.

However, that is not to say that Bruce doesn't. He's nearing 45 years of age, not a grey hair on his head, but if he were to grow a beard now, or a moustache like his father, it would show a mix of salt and pepper, so he shaves it off, vigorously and every day. Moustache and beard, those are the first things to turn grey. Then the eyebrows. When that happens, Bruce will lose. He will give in to his age and keep his beard. Not yet. If Clark ever walks in on him during his morning ritual (probably soon), he will look at him with that forgiving smile. He will say what he thinks of it, because that's what he does. (Keep it, I like it, Bruce hopes secretively, but there is a sadness present in Clark's eyes that he will never completely understand, and that's exactly why he shaves).

Clark has seen it already though, he's sure. His 5 o'clock shadow must look like a foggy forest to Clark’s microscopic vision, and even worse in the morning, right before his shave. Clark hasn't mentioned it. A conversation for another day.

If his children ever found out about this particular insecurity, all 6 of them would laugh.

 Bruce never really napped, or took time out of the day to simply rest, but now, Clark is there. To pull him onto the couch in the study when he's on his way to his desk. To keep him in bed after sex and before patrol. To fly through his window at WE at 50 floors up and pat next to himself on the couch in Bruce's office, door locked, and red cape hung up in the corner.

"It's time," he says. Every time. "You need one."

Bruce will raise his eyebrows. "Already, hmm?" he asks, almost every time.

He's made the mistake of sending him away before. (He won't do that again). Clark is the most stubborn man Bruce knows. He will say the same thing about Bruce, but that's beside the point. And It's not as if Clark distracts him from a case or work; he knows exactly when he has some time and is unable to make excuses.

Bruce is used to taking 20-minute power naps in uncomfortable positions on his desk chair, at the kitchen table behind the newspaper, with his feet up in the batmobile.

Clark sets the alarm for one hour. He pulls Bruce into a horizontal position against that broad chest, either spooning him or facing him, encasing him in his large arms (there are still 76 ways out of his hold, but Bruce can't think of a single one worth a try). They sleep.

Apparently Clark needs naps too, even though he doesn’t need sleep. Bruce has been meaning to ask him about that, wonders if it's a mental thing, a kind of meditation. Therapy.

His naps are dreamless. Afterwards, his return to consciousness is quick, he reorients on the surroundings, on Clark. Kissing him is a good strategy for grounding, Bruce has found. And just like that, they get on with their day again, because there is no time for dwelling, for another moment together. Nevertheless, Bruce is happy with what he does get. It’s more of Clark - and more time with him - than he deserves already.

 So, Bruce naps.

 ---

 After a long mission off-world, the league is on their way home towards the watchtower in the javelin. Diana is flying, with J’onn at her side in the co-pilot chair. The rest of them are hauled up in the back of the vehicle, they’re tired, exhausted, just trying to get some rest. Even Wally sits still. Only Batman is pacing up and down, his mind already on Gotham, on home, the cases that were open, the ones that he was *this* close to cracking. Batman doesn’t nap.

His mind is wandering, going at a speed that would make even Clark dizzy, but the puzzle pieces don’t make sense. Yet. His heavy boots are silent on the metal floor of the javelin, his cape a mere whisper of wind behind him as he turns to pace the other way again.

“You’re driving me crazy,” Hawkgirl’s voice cuts through the relative silence of flying through space (beeping, machinery, turbines, the jet - there’s a lot). She holds up one of her large wings, cutting Batman off from his path. “Sit down.”

He does. Next to Superman. A big mistake, although he doesn’t realize it until much later. No need to upset his teammates. He can meditate instead, stay awake. The noise of the jet doesn’t make it easy, but it can be done. Clark smiles calmly at him.

He sits straight, eyes open, breathing focused, and the turmoil in his brains slows down. Soon, they’ll reach Earth’s solar system and he’ll have access to the batcomputer. Not soon enough. Next to him, Superman is a steady support of a brick wall, but his shoulder feels warm and soft against Bruce’s, even through the suit. Underneath the cape and hidden from view, Clark’s thumb rubs circles into his side, lower back. He knows exactly what he’s doing. A Pavlovian effect has Bruce relaxing his shoulders, if only slightly. None of his teachers ever taught him how to deal with a superman when trying to meditate. His superman. His annoyingly super man.

His last thought is of Clark, and that it must be irritating to have a bat ear poking into his cheek. But then again, rarely anything physical ever annoys the Man of Steel. Then, finally, he dozes off, the roar of the jet diminished to a distant snoring.

 ---

 Bruce is proud of the watchtower. His watchtower. It stands erect on the bright side of the moon, pointing towards earth. Always looking out. Within such an enormous structure however, some simple rules are needed. There is a long list next to the fridge in the break room, and one in the meeting room. No running unless there is an emergency. Masks on outside of one’s own room. Food is to stay in the cafeteria (he’s found everyone and Clark with various wrappers and chips bags in the monitor room, so he gave up on that – it’s crossed out). Training gear stays in the gym. The coffee machine has to be cleaned once every 2 days - the stuff isn’t that good, not what Bruce is used to, but it has helped him through several meetings and dull monitor duties in the past.

. 

A couple days after returning from their outer space mission on the javelin, Bruce returns to the watchtower. There are several new members to have a meeting about. He has made up his mind on all of them already, the meeting is merely a formality.

Connor Hawke runs past – one of the new proposed members, codename Green Arrow after his father – and Supergirl flies over his head. “No running.” He stops them both with one move of his arm and a line on a batarang.

Kara turns towards him and slips out of his trap easily. “I wasn’t even running, B,” she says while she floats down. Connor has crossed his arms and looks out the window, Batman’s line still taut around his upper arms.

“There are rules. If you want to be in the Justice League, behave like it.” He reminds her of the proper use of code names too, for good measure, and unties Connor.

With a sigh, both young heroes are off, making their way towards the break room. Bruce follows them and finds Wally and Kyle already inside, but as soon as they see Batman turn the corner they scurry out through the door on the other side.  

It’s the first clue that something is amiss. The newer heroes standing around the fridge and chuckling, the second. Bruce lays eyes on the offending appliance and feels his body tense. If smoke could come out of his ears, it would.

“Flash!”

 ---

 The standard size piece of paper lies on one of the metal surfaces in the computer area of the cave. Bruce tries to ignore it while he works, but the primary colours of Superman’s suit in the image are a thorn in his peripheral vision. With a swift move and a smack, he turns it around, and gets back to his files. He has sent his notes for the meeting to the watchtower, reported that he’s too busy to attend.

He works on some of his own active cases, gathering data and looking at evidence. Most of it is paperwork, boring but necessary. He slowly makes his way through every file, meticulously and efficiently. Everything gets reported and written down in case a pattern reveals itself later. The puzzling can be done when he’s more focused. Meanwhile, the cases that are solved and closed get a little custom-made bat-stamp on the front of their manila folder before they get filed away. Alfred brings down coffee, the good kind. Time passes quickly and he’s still busy when Clark flies in.

“Hey,” he walks up to Bruce and bends down for a quick kiss. “I thought you’d be at the meeting today. Diana said you were busy.”

Bruce points to the piece of paper in explanation, Clark turns to grab it. “Wally happened. And I’m always busy.”

“I see. He seemed almost unnaturally giddy today. Oh hey, look.” Clark holds up the picture of Batman and Superman, asleep on the javelin. In it, Clark’s face is peaceful, his mouth open, despite one of the ears on the cowl that is indeed poking his cheek. “We look cute.”

“Batman doesn’t do cute, Clark.”

Clark sighs. But you do, his eyes seem to say. No, I don’t, Bruce replies with his. “Where’d you get this, anyway?”

“Wally put it up on the fridge in the watchtower cafeteria. You didn’t notice him taking it last week?”

“Clearly,” Clark points to the Clark in the picture. “I fell asleep.”

“And here I thought you always listened to your surroundings.”

“We were in space. Not exactly much I can hear out there.”

Bruce gets up from his chair. Having a Superman has once again proven useless. Only Clark can do something so silly and time-wasting as sleeping, on purpose. Naps are overrated, anyway. They’ve had this discussion many times, Bruce knows the outcome. *Always* be on high alert, he will say. Clark will push back, it’s not that simple, he will say. Everyone needs sleep, his eyes pleading, apologetically somehow. They do.  But it has taken Bruce obtaining Clark’s powers in a freak magic accident and chasing after the sun and every criminal on the planet for 72 hours straight to realise that. Now he knows the desperation, the feeling that it will never end, the knowledge that in the end, not everyone can be saved, even if you try.

Everyone needs sleep, even Superman.

Clark watches him milling through these thoughts, it must be written on his face, and holds out his hand when Bruce’s features finally relax. He’ll just have a stern talking-to with Wally and Kyle next time he’s on the watchtower.

 .

 If only it were so simple. The next time he’s on the watchtower, the picture is back on the fridge. And in the main hallway. And in the transporter room, the trophy room, and the ground level bathroom. Bruce groans, suppresses the urge to face-palm. He takes the things down one by one, systematically going through the entire watchtower. Then, he has that talk with Wally. And with Kyle. Best to keep them separated. They snicker that it wasn’t them *this* time, and don’t seem scared of him at all.  

He’s either gone too soft in his old (not old, mature) age, or he should have designed the watchtower with a lot more corners for menacing shadows.

Wally and Kyle are both telling the truth, Bruce finds out in the next couple of days when more pictures return while Kyle is off in space and Wally is busy on earth. This time, it’s not just the one of them sleeping on the Javelin. A bunch of pictures have been put up in the break room. There’s one of Clark, asleep on monitor duty with his feet on the console (Bruce makes a mental note to talk to him about that). There, right there, that’s the reason why there always have to be two leaguers watching the screens. J’onn looking desperately at a small pile of Oreo crumbles on the floor of the meeting room. Diana vigorously devouring a tub of chocolate ice cream. And Batman, pointing at the camera, the other hand on his hip.

He has no idea who took it, but it has to be one of the speedsters. All he knows is that this has to stop. No matter if one finds this kind of thing funny, there are rules, privacy issues, secret identities and all that.

The security footage that Bruce watches back in the cave that night reveal some of the newer, younger members of the league sneaking around the watchtower with a roll of tape. They don’t know where all the cameras are, clearly. They don’t know the rules, clearly. Wally and Kyle have to have set them up to do this, clearly.

Clark watches with him over his shoulder. He chuckled when Bruce showed him the evidence earlier, but now his face is serious. He mouths an Oh. “This is getting out of hand. I’ll organize a meeting tomorrow.”

---

 The next day, in the biggest meeting hall on the watchtower, over 30 faces stare at them from across the large round table. Diana and J’onn are seated on their side, for good measure. They’re victims in this too. It’s intimidating to be called to the watchtower by Superman and Batman for a meeting on professional conduct, and even more intimidating to sit across four of the original members, especially for the new ones in the crowd. Good, Bruce thinks. He stands up, and so does Clark.

“Welcome, everyone,” Clark starts, the warm and commanding baritone all Superman. “We’re glad you could all make it on such short notice…” While Clark talks, Bruce regards the crowd of heroes standing nervously, or sitting on the few available chairs. Firestorm’s flame burns smaller than normal, the new Green Arrow has his bow clamped between both hands, and even Plastic Man seems to genuinely pay attention to Superman. Wally has his chin in his hands on the table, pretending to be interested, and Kyle only seems to pay attention to a scratch on the table’s surface. “…today is not an emergency, but it is important nonetheless…” Get to the point, Clark. “It seems that whilst we acquire more and more members for the JL, some of you think this is some sort of club and not an international organization to protect the earth,” he drones on. Arthur sighs, and for once, Bruce agrees with him.  

“I will not tolerate this any longer,” Bruce cuts Superman off brusquely, in his most serious bat-voice. “Take all pictures down. And if I see another one…”

Wally huffs, interrupting him. “No fun allowed on this godforsaken rock.”

Before Bruce can retort, Clark puts a hand on his tense shoulder. “What Batman is trying to say, is we can’t do this. Even if it seems harmless. Because if we get careless about the little things, we get sloppy, and if we get sloppy, the wrong information might fall into the wrong hands.”

“You’re just as paranoid as he is,” Plastic man points at Batman. “It’s a couple of harmless images.”

“And what did I just say?”

“You’re saying no fun allowed,” Kyle supplies this time. Once again, Bruce takes tremendous effort to suppress a face-palm, and crosses his arms instead. He grunts. Really, they have 37 children here. Not just the 6 back home – a rookie number. 37, except maybe not Diana. Maybe. “Man, we bust our butts for you guys. I’m behind at work, barely get any sleep or free time and you’re getting on our case for something as dumb as this!” Kyle throws his arms up in anger. Behind him, Connor tries to shush him.

“This is work just as much as your civilian job. And more important on top of that. If you want to slack off, you can do that back home. Not here.”

“Grumpy much, bats? Someone missed their morning coffee today…” Wally mumbles.

They continue staring at each other, but it’s Superman who breaks first, uncrosses his arms and sighs. “You can have a couch in the break room… and a tv.” he looks at Bruce. At his expense, of course. “That’s it. No more images of JL members. Leave your personal lives at home.”

“Fine,” Wally sits up. “We’ll take them down.”

 ---

 A couple days later, Bruce is back on the watchtower. No weird pictures greet him this time. Much cleaner. He steadily makes his way to the break room to grab a coffee before the current meeting, but only because he didn’t have time to wait for Alfred’s Italian brew anymore. Clark is with him, already more cheerful because of Bruce’s relatively better mood.

The cafeteria is still empty, the little kitchen still clean. Save for the fridge. There, prominently in the middle of the door, the original picture of Batman and Superman on the Javelin stares him squarely in the face. It’s held up by a pair of small Wonder Woman magnets this time. Clark says something behind him, but Bruce isn’t paying attention. As he gets closer, he can tell it’s different. The paper is thicker, a nicer quality. The image is not a print, but hand-drawn in a mix of coloured chalk and high-quality pencil. The lighting, especially, is magnificent. Kyle Rayner. A new addition is the caption in curly handwriting underneath the image:

 Even the world’s finest heroes need to sleep

 Now, Bruce face-palms. Hard. Clark mutters a fuck, but regains control quickly. “I’ve got to hand it to them; they have nerve.” Bruce ignores him as he opens the fridge to grab the milk for Clark’s coffee. “It’s a good quality to have.”

“Or a bad one.”

Clark shrugs. His face breaks out into a grin. “And, I have them on my side now.”

Oh, no. Bruce whips his head up from the coffee machine to look at Clark. “Batman doesn’t nap.”

Clark inclines his head, raises an eyebrow. But *you* do. It’s so goddamn frustrating when he’s right.

“Hn. You already have Alfred on your side, that’s enough. And I’ve been good about it.”

“According to your standards, sure. Don’t you think it’s time for one later today? After the meeting?”

“Not here,” Bruce whispers.

“Back home.”

Home. It’s a good thing the security cameras don’t record sound. “Okay,” he mumbles. “I’ve got some time before patrol.”

Clark’s grin turns victorious, and Bruce burns his tongue on the coffee while he tries to hide a smile himself. He’ll decide what to do about Kyle’s art project later. Right now, they have a meeting to attend to.

 ---

 The next morning, Bruce wakes up to Clark kissing his jaw, his mouth. He tastes like Alfred’s coffee. Too early, as always. Not early enough, as always, because Clark is already getting up for work. He considers pulling him back into bed and just straight up explaining to Perry that Clark is late again because he’s fucking the owner, but then he remembers yesterday’s incident. He’ll have to do something about it, obviously, but he’s not looking forward to acknowledging the whole thing yet again, maybe even admitting that the younger members are right, if only a little bit. Stupid watchtower clubhouse. His foul mood must be showing on his face, because all he gets is a “Let it go, Bruce” before Clark disappears into the bathroom. He comes back out in record time, fastening his tie. “Just, let it go. Let them have a little bit of fun. They’re young.”

But not doing anything about it is not an option. Not for Batman, and not for Bruce. “If I don’t retort, they’ll keep going. This won’t die out.” He sits up in bed. At the foot end, Clark is putting on his shoes. 

“It will. You can’t fight fire with fire, sweetheart.” He walks over to Bruce and kisses his cheek. That’s it.

“That’s it. I’m going to fight fire with fire.” Get down to their level. He has kids, knows what teenagers and twenty-something year olds think like.

“No,” Clark groans. It turns into a sigh. “I’m going to be late.”

Bruce gets up. “Then go. Have a good day at work, honey.” 

Clark clenches his jaw, and swings his messenger bag over his shoulder, giving up. “I’ll meet you for lunch,” he says, already halfway out the window.

Bruce closes it behind him, and then quickly makes his way down to the cave. He lets Alfred know he’ll have breakfast on the watchtower, dons the batsuit, makes a quick stop at his desk in the cave, and beams up to the watchtower. 9 am. He’s still on time.

---  

 At lunch time, the cafeteria is buzzing with excitement, more and more heroes gathering around the fridge as they point and whisper Really? And Do you even think it was him? And Wally, this must be another prank of yours. Bruce hears shushing and He’s right there while he drinks his coffee on the other side of the room. Finally, Clark walks in and takes a second to behold the spectacle, his brow furrowed, listening in. He clearly gives up on going to the fridge to get food, and instead makes a beeline to where Batman is sitting at one of the tables. “What’s going on? Did you remove it?” he asks as he sits down across from Bruce.

“I did not.”

Wally sticks his head out of the crowd and looks at the two of them. “Hey Bats! Does this mean we can keep it?”

Calmly, Bruce sips his coffee, pointedly ignoring the younglings and the little victory he supplied for them. But of course, and without skipping a beat, Clark notices his smug mood. He leans closer across the metal table. “What, did you put your bat-stamp of approval on it?”

“As a matter of fact, I did.”

Clark looks back over at the fridge with his spectacular vision to see what Bruce has done earlier, before anyone else was in the vicinity; his bat-symbol stamped onto the lower right corner of the caption. Later, he’ll add a rule to his original list next to the fridge. Only approved art and trophies allowed on the watchtower.

“I also hacked their phones and made sure there are no digital copies anymore,” he explains. “That should teach them to think twice next time.”

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

Bruce shrugs. After all, he’s heard it all before. Only this time, Clark is unable to suppress a smile, he puts a hand over his, and adds “I love you.” Even that is nothing new, he knows it already, but it hasn’t happened on the watchtower yet. He allows a smile to form on his face while Clark holds his gloved hand. The rest of the league is too busy with the commotion around the fridge, anyway.  

A few days later, he finds a copy of the drawing in the cave, this one with a small Superman stamp in the lower-right corner. It may just be exactly what he needs to see after a long night of patrol. Alfred seems happy about it too, and not just about the two people in it. He now simply points to the text with a stern face instead of obnoxiously and repeatedly clearing his throat whenever Bruce comes back from patrol battered and bruised or refuses to go up to the house and his bed.

There is another one in the fortress, although Clark doesn’t spend much time there. Bruce figures he can use the reminder whenever he does go there, so far away from humanity, to work on a case. And in Blüdhaven, Dick has one on his bedside table. The last time he visited Titans tower he noticed one in the hallway. Both of those not Bruce’s doing. He lets it slide, right of his cape and cowl and cool exterior. He just hopes everyone can keep it within their inner circles and that Batman and Superman won’t get turned into one of those ‘memes’.  

[s-horne]

Idk when you’ll find this but ur one of my favorite writers so I figured I’d shoot my shot at a prompt: Tony can get all soft and needy and pliant and Steve is a gentle dom even if it’s just chilling after a hard week, no sexual stuff at all. He just want to take care of tony. It would be so nice if you could write smtg along those lines BUT I love your writing regardless!!!

“Thank you.”

Steve’s words were simple, soft. They shouldn’t have caused Tony such a strong reaction, but a shiver went down his spine nonetheless.

“You’re welcome,” Tony managed to gasp out. His hand felt strangely empty without Steve’s whiskey glass in it, his arm falling down at his side uselessly until Steve gave his next task.

Steve took a long sip of his fresh whiskey, throat bobbing as he swallowed. Tony’s mouth went a little dry and he fought the urge to fall forward and follow the movement with his tongue.

All too soon, Steve set his glass down on the side table and turned his full attention towards Tony. Rising from his chair, Steve stood with his feet slightly apart and back straight. At his full height he towered over Tony, the height difference only adding to submissive blanket that Tony could feel settling over his shoulders.

When Steve spoke again, his voice was a little deeper than normal but still as perfectly steady as ever. Tony wanted to listen to it all evening. “Are you going to help me get undressed tonight?”

Words suddenly seemed impossible for Tony so he could only nod, the movement a little jerky. The smile Steve rewarded him with made his knees weak.

“Thank you, darling.” Steve stayed where he was so it was up to Tony to close the distance between them, taking the final step until he was near enough to feel Steve’s breath on his face. “Tie first.”

The tie was one of his, Tony thought absentmindedly as his fingers worked on loosening the knot. It was a silky one, a dark red that was much more Tony’s colour than Steve’s, but it still looked beautiful on the man. When the knot was untied completely, Tony tugged gently on one end of the material until the tie fell to the floor.

Tony bent immediately to pick it up, draping it over the table next to Steve’s whiskey glass before snapping his gaze back to Steve’s.

“Can you take off my shirt?”

Tony had raised his hands again before Steve had finished speaking, a tremor making his fingers shake with anticipation.

“Thank you,” Steve said again as Tony made quick work of the shirt buttons. “You’re so good to me.”

Tony’s grip slipped on the second to last button, though he did his level best to stamp down on the effect the words had. He had a job to complete, no matter how affected he was. And he was affected. His dick had taken interest almost immediately, but it was more than that. It went so much deeper.

The week had seemed to drag on forever. Tony had been pulled in a thousand different directions every day. His list of tasks never got any shorter no matter how much he managed to complete and he’d crawled to the weekend with an exhaustion he felt to his very bones.

To pass the control to someone else gave Tony a relief like no other. And giving that power to his husband, to the love of his life, had changed Tony in a way he hadn’t seen coming.

“My pants next,” Steve said calmly when Tony somehow managed to get the last buttons undone and slid the shirt away from Steve’s soft skin.

The words cut through the haze descending on his mind and Tony fell to his knees, hands finding Steve’s belt automatically.

It hadn’t taken long for the commands, the instructions, to make their way into the relationship. Tony had known about his penchant for giving over the control, at least in his personal life, for years, but it was the way that Steve settled into it that made Tony’s head swim.

It was down to the praise that Steve so freely gave. Hearing a never-ending stream of praise fall from Steve’s lips towards him and him alone made Tony fall hard and fast, slipping into a headspace that only Steve could penetrate. He’d never tried to wrap his head around why he liked it in the way that he did, knowing instinctively that it no doubt stemmed from his childhood and the mess that had been, or something to do with the company that Tony ran that never seemed to have a smooth sailing day with him at the helm.

Whatever it was, however it could be defined, Tony sought it out, craved Steve’s lips pressed against his skin as he floated off and left the dark, hateful world behind.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Steve’s voice carried down to him as Tony pulled Steve’s pants down thick, hairy legs. “Such a good boy.”

It should have been uncomfortable, being called a boy at Tony’s age, especially in Steve’s gentle and soft tone, but it had such an effect on Tony that he closed his eyes as his head swam. A heady haze descended on him, a dizziness clouding his vision when he blinked.

Steve stepped out of his pants when they hit his ankles and Tony moved automatically to gather them up, folding them loosely and placing them to one side. He didn’t move from his knees, instead leaning forward to nuzzle into Steve’s thighs.

“Hey, sweetheart.” A hand ran through Tony’s hair and his eyes fell closed again. “You comfortable down there?”

Tony nodded, not moving away. His hands curled around Steve’s ankles, wanting to be touching Steve anywhere he could. It didn’t matter to him that he was lower than Steve, kneeling in front of him in complete and perfect submission. He felt Steve shift to reach for his drink again and heard him take a sip, sighing happily. A drink that Tony had fetched for him, had poured with his own hands, had made Steve sound like that and Tony’s stomach swooped.

“Okay, darling,” Steve said, his fingers carding through Tony’s hair again. “Just stay there. I’ve got you.”

[lavenderslotus]

Macarons and Chill

My first BakuCamie fic!! Hope you guys enjoy 🤗 Also cross posted on FF.N and AO3!

Summary: In which Bakugo and Camie try to make macarons in the midst of a global pandemic. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kick you out of my goddamn apartment, woman.” Bakugo snarls as he nearly rips the door off its hinges.

Camie merely blinks, clearly nonplussed by his tone. “Chill, Bakubae. I’m not even inside yet. Were you trying to hide your porn stash?”

“Can’t you see I’m in the fucking middle of something?!” Bakugo ignores her obvious jibe.

It’s only then Camie registers his uncharacteristically disheveled appearance. Donned in a black tank top that was smeared with flour and an orange Ground Zero apron that hung haphazardly on his hips, Bakugo looks positively dripping with annoyance. His already unkempt hair is matted in several different directions and if Camie didn't know any better, she would say that whatever he was attempting to bake was currently besting him.

Despite the atmosphere of the room, Camie pushes her way around Bakugo and flounces into the living room. “Ojamashimasu!” She sings as she kicks off her shoes in a hurry and practically runs into the kitchen.

“Fuck me, right?” Bakugo mutters as he bends down to fix her shoes so that they were perfectly aligned. She had been appearing more times on his doorstep than he cared for during this whole quarantine bullshit yet still didn’t have the decency to pick up after herself. “Oi, get out the hell out of my kitchen before you ruin shit!”

Camie turns around, already tugging on a bubblegum pink apron that Bakugo definitely does not keep around just for her. She juts out her lower lip. “I'm just trying to help out my favorite next-door neighbor.” She peers over at the bowl of whipped meringue on the kitchen counter. “Macarons, Bakubro? Do you have a death wish or something? Those are like, mad hard to bake, even for you!”

Bakugo resists the urge to thump her on the head. Instead, he settled for aggressively whisking the meringue once more, nearly ripping the appliance in two. “As if I’m going to be shown up by some shitty wannabe sandwiches. Tch.”

“Ehhhh? Is that so?” Camie tip-toes to place her chin on the shoulder that wasn’t vigorously moving with his stirring. Bakugo tries to ignore how close her cheek is to his, the soft plush nearly grazing him. “Well, no doubt they’ll be totally delish when you’re done! Anything I can do to help?”

Bakugo smirks, a cocky grin splitting his face. “Fuck yeah they will be. Go pick out the food coloring.” As Camie sashays away happily (“These are totes gonna be the prettiest macarons bae!”), he tries not to let his eyes linger. It’s like Camie intentionally picks clothes that loves her as much as she loves herself, because they cling to her figure like glue.

Their relationship was… Complicated. After they both graduated high school, her a year before him, Bakugo had no intention of keeping contact with anybody, save for maybe shitty hair. What was the point? He knew he’d see his former idiots of classmates and peers eventually. They all entered the same fucking industry; if anything, he had a feeling he’d them too often. It was only by chance that he and Camie wound up at the same agency, and it was even more of a twisted fate that he had happened to be assigned to live one door down from her. Which meant slowly but surely, Camie Utsushimi forcibly wedged her and her love for K-Pop into his life (and his apartment).

He didn’t know why she was so adamant on getting to know him. At first, he had thought it was just out of the pure convenience of living so close. He figured she would lay off after shutting her out a couple times. But goddamn, this woman was persistent. When she wanted something, she sure as hell knew how to get it. And he still didn’t know what it was she wanted from him. He never knew what she was thinking, for better or for worse.

“You know what’d be lit? If you had edible glitter.” Camie sighs wistfully as she lines up the bottles of food coloring. Bakugo grimaces at the array of pinks and purples but doesn’t say anything.

“What the fuck for?” Bakugo huffs as turned the bowl upside down. A smug expression flits his face when nothing falls out, a testament to the stiff peaks of the frosting.

Camie stares at him as if he had sprouted a tail. “Hell-oh! To decorate the macarons?! Jeez Bakubae, it’s like you have no eye for pretty things in life. No wonder you haven’t asked me out on a date yet.”

Then there was that. There always seemed to be something simmering between them, and it pissed Bakugo off to no end that he couldn’t figure out what the hell it was. Irritation? Sexual tension? Both? He didn’t know when she was serious or joking when she said shit like that.

Bakugo snorts to cover his inner turmoil and sticks his hand out. Camie wordlessly passes him a small bottle of food coloring. Without even looking at the color, his hand steadies as he carefully squeezes the gel into the meringue – bright pink, he discovers. Gross. “I told you to stop calling me that.”

“You already know I’m not gonna. Am I not your type?” Camie twirls a strand of her fawn-colored hair around her finger pensively. “You’re gonna die a virgin if you don’t hop on the dating scene, you know. Such a waste of a handsome face.”

“Fuck you.” Bakugo snaps as he stirs to incorporate the color. His grip is tight around the rubber spatula. “As if you have it any better, hag. You should stop hanging around this apartment if you want to put your money where your mouth is.”

Camie sighs contemplatively. “The hero life really doesn’t allow any time for dating, huh? We sure have it rough.” She cracks her knuckles and grins. “Not that we can go on dates or anything during this quarantine. I’m lucky I have you to bother, Bakuboo!”

“Yeah, so lucky.” Bakugo mumbles sarcastically under his breath. “Gimme that bowl.”

“But like seriously, what is your type fam?” Camie asks. Bakugo dumps the dry ingredients and begins to macaronage. “For a while, I totally thought you and Deku were gonna get it on.”

“Fuck no. Weak ass Deku wouldn’t be able to handle me, I’d rock his shit.” Bakugo scoffs. Camie lets out a delighted peal of laughter at that. “Besides, I ain’t gay. Can’t speak for him though.”

Camie raises a brow. “You do know that Deku and Uraraka-san are like, def canon right?”

Bakugo hates how he knows what ‘canon’ means because of her. He grunts. “I don’t give a shit. Hand me that piping bag and a tray, quick.”

“Don’t be like that Bakubae,” Camie chides as she bends over to reach for the baking trays stashed inside his oven. He averts his eyes at the way she juts her hips and arches her back. “You noticed it too, right? All our peers are like, getting it on. I’m banking on Todomomo next.”

Bakugo works quickly to transfer the macaron batter into the piping bag. The bright pink is an eyesore and he frowns. “Like I said, I don’t give a shit.”

“You’re totes gonna care when your options dwindle down to no one.” Camie taps her nails against the counter. “And you’re already picky as it is.”

Bakugo scoffs again as he rips out a sheet of parchment paper. It tears through the air like a record scratch. “How would you know that? I haven’t said shit. For all you know, I could have a secret fetish.”

“Do you?” Camie’s voice heightens with interest. Bakugo glares at her, but the curiosity in her face doesn’t waver.

“No, you sicko. Even if I did, it’s not like I’d tell you.” Bakugo begins to pipe the macarons onto the parchment paper in earnest.

“Everyone has their kinks,” Camie sing-songs. She walks two fingers up Bakugo’s arm and he would smack her arm away if he wasn’t already preoccupied. If each macaron wasn’t exactly 1½-inches, he was going to lose his shit. “It’s only a matter of time until I find out yours, bae.”

Bakugo pipes the last macaron onto the tray and tosses the piping bag. It tumbles away on the counter, smearing pink meringue everywhere. Great. He pretends not to notice her hand still resting on his upper bicep and rolls his eyes. “Good luck with that.”

“I bet you’re really into the whole power dynamics thing.” Bakugo chokes and Camie removes her hand to place both on her hips. “Y’know, all that sub and dom stuff. Kind of a mild kink if you ask me. Personally, I’m down for whatevs but idk, I think I draw the line at tentacles, not that I judge –”

“Yeah well, luckily no one fucking asked.” Bakugo barks as he airs out the bubbles in the batter by repeatedly slamming the baking tray onto the counter. Camie yanks the tray out of his hands and begins to tap the tray much more gently. He scowls and crosses his arms. “You know an awful lot about kinks for someone who doesn’t get laid.”

Camie winks and leans forward. She purposely pushes her cleavage together so that it spills over, her up-and-down ministrations of bumping the tray against the counter making them jiggle. Bakugo stubbornly doesn’t give her the satisfaction of looking down and meets her gaze dead-on. “How do you know I’m not getting laid?”

Bakugo feels an uncomfortable twist in his chest, but the sudden anger that floods him is almost unbearable. Camie? Having a fuck buddy? The thought stamps a hot iron brand of jealousy in his stomach. What the fuck? In an instant, he sees a vision of another pair of arms wrapped around Camie’s tiny waist, kissing her, tousling her hair. A throb of possessiveness goes through him. It’s what makes him snap, “Yeah fucking right. Why the fuck are you here and not with him then?”

“I mean, we are kinda in the middle of a global pandemic.” Camie drawls. She pushes back from the macaron tray. She cocks a head and her eyes rake his face. The tension that normally simmers between them at a tolerable five has knocked its way up to an insufferable ten. “’Sides, even if I had one, I’d rather be here.”

Bakugo deflates but only slightly. The crease between his eyebrows deepen and the feelings of anger, jealousy, and irritation still make him see red. “So you don’t have one.” He says it like a statement of verification rather than a question.

“No,” Camie shakes her head. She sounds a bit breathless. “I don’t.”

In two strides, Bakugo has her pinned against the wall. Camie’s eyes are wide as she takes in his narrowed ones, zeroing in on her like prey. Her arms are locked above her head, held by Bakugo’s, and he leans dangerously close. Their noses graze and Camie barely has a second to register just how long his eyelashes are when their mouths fuse together. Bakugo isn’t gentle but he sure as hell is an amazing kisser – Camie has to hold back a chuckle. He totes has to be the best at everything, huh? He claims it all, tongue sweeping and staking hold of everything that’s hers. She can hear the subliminal message being conveyed. Mine. Mine. Mine. His hands are greedy, falling from her wrists to touching her everywhere, gripping, pulling, pinching. She scrapes her hands along the hard muscle, equally as needy and lets him take and take.

“Bakugo,” Camie finally manages to gasp as he trails down her neck, sucking, biting, kissing. She can feel her skin puckering under his assault. “The macarons –”

“Fuck ‘em.” He grunts. “They need to chill for an hour anyway.”

Sorry Todomomo, Camie thinks to herself as she grins wildly. Looks like Bakucamie’s beat you to the punch.

[blackssuunn-mandoandyodito]

Tabaco y Brea part 4

Pairing:Javier Peña x f! reader

Rating:T? IDK WHAT THE RATINGS ARE

Words: 2.0k

A/N:enjoy this because everything gets intende after

Warnings: eating? swearing, banter, use of the word gringo, fluff. If you think I'm missing something let me know.

Summary: soft moment between the boys and reader.

Part one part two part three

Connie must be a saint if she has put up with this idiot for years.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?"

This is probably the tenth time you ask Steve this, but judging by how he fidgets with his hands and rolls his marriage ring every single time, he's not sure about his answer, even though it's always the same. You can see his nervousness as he sits in front of your desk again.

"I've told you I am! Could you quit it already?"

To say your relationship with him developed a lot in the last few weeks is an understatement. You started to like him the second he helped you with paperwork but now that you know him more you realize he's a perfect balance that you and Javier needed. He's as crazy as you are, maybe even more, but at least he doesn't get to screaming match with either of you two.

Not yet, at least.

Your partner doesn't seem to have accepted him completely still. Every time you're working on your desk with Murphy, Javier huffs and rolls his eyes. Each time you try and include him in your new dynamic, he waves it off and says he has "better things to do". He narrows his eyes and presses his lips together when the two of you laugh about some idiot joke Steve said and a voice at the back of your head tells you it has something to do with the things Helena said to you, but you shrug it off. Diving too deep into those thoughts will only make things worse.

Despite this, you and Javier haven't fought so much the last couple of days, Steve interfering when things start to get heated. He stands between the two desks holding his arms up towards each of you as if either of you were about to jump the other. It's a funny visual, needless to say. He's the tallest of the three, so he towers above your heads and tries to calm you down.

Despite this, you can't help being a little protective over him. 

"Steve, we're going undercover, not shooting our way in"

He's a little hotheaded himself, that much you've realized from the stories he has told you about his job in Miami. And you may be quick to go into fight mode, but only when you see there's no other option. Javier, surprisingly, is the calmest. Who would've thought?

Steve groans, exasperated. He lets his head fall back and grabs at his hair, pulling slightly. Javier snickers at his reaction.

"Relax gringo, she's just pushing your buttons"

Well, he's not entirely wrong. Steve lifts his head to look at you with a raised eyebrow. You give him a sheepish smile and shrug.

"I might be, but your Spanish is shit and we need to speak a lot in it for this mission"

At that, Javi loses it, throws his head back laughing and grabs his belly with both hands, stamping his feet at the floor. You snort, trying not to laugh at the offended look Steve is giving you, his cheeks red with embarrassment and his arms crossed over his chest.

A glint of mischief appears in his eyes accompanied by a half sided grin.

"I will be staying at the hotel, remember? You and Javi are going to the dance club"

Javi doesn't seem to give a shit about his comment and keeps laughing his ass off. 

You're  not sure if Steve had realized about your feelings, he hadn't said anything directly to you yet. He made comments insinuating it, teased you about the "lust-filled" eyes you'd give Javi in the middle of an argument, but he had never asked you or mentioned it straight up. If he had, you couldn't help but think how ironic it was that everyone that got semi-close to your relationship could figure it out so quickly and Javi hadn't in the nearly two years you've been partners.

You feign annoyance by letting out a groan and hitting your head with your desk, but the truth is a knot makes its way in your stomach at the mere thought of going to a dance club with Javi.

"He doesn't even know how to dance!"

"Hey! I do know how to dance!"

He does, you just like teasing him about it. He demonstrated his skills pretty well at your first year's Christmas party, with one of the good-looking girls that the soldiers from the academy invited. It was an initiation of sorts for both of you, at one of the officers' houses close to the base. After dancing with almost all of the girls there, the soldiers dared Javi to take shots of Aguardiente and he was too happy to accept. Hours later, he was sick as fuck and spent the night throwing up at the communal bathroom. He woke you up as he started dry heaving, and you stayed with him until the sickness passed and took him to his room, all sweaty and green. You don't think he remembers a single moment of it.

Steve shakes his head, smiling. You smile too.

"Yeah, two-step, you good Texan boy. That doesn't come in handy this time though"

Javi gives him the finger by way of answer. You break down in laugher, covering your mouth to lower the noise. Javi may be skeptical about Murphy, but they banter like an old married couple already. At least their dynamic isn't as explosive as yours, theirs is easier going.

"You're gonna enjoy yourself one way or another Bera, don't play dumb" Javi says, amusement dripping from his voice. You shrug with a barely concealed grin in your face. Steve frowns at you.

"What do you mean?"

Javi turns to look at him, shaking his hands in front of his face.

"She goes there every weekend she can!" he raises his arms over his head and you have to bite your lip to not start laughing again "She takes the bus on Friday night, which is a 7 fucking hours long trip and stays there until Sunday night and leaves for another 7 hours long trip. And she goes to the salsa clubs, so she's familiar with the zone"

Steve looks at you with disbelief plaguing his eyes. You smile cheekily and extend your hand towards him. He grabs it and you pull him forward, making him bend over the desk and get closer to your space.

"If you saw the way they move Miami" you whisper, "you'd understand why I flee from here every chance I get"

Salsa in Cali is different from any other place you've been in. They move more the half down part of the body, they dance faster than others, sexier. Not for nothing they have the Cali Fair in December, where many salsa artists start their career. 

Javi clears his throat and you let go of Steve immediately, blushing. He frowns at Steve and he just sits back down in front of you, adjusting his shirt. Thank God he didn't use suit every day, you hated when every agent wore one. The three of you stuck with jeans and t-shirts. Steve was apparently the polo shirt kind of guy, which was fine by you. Bogotá was mostly a mild weather city, but this time of the year was the worst.

"So what's the plan again?" Javi asks. He had been distracted since you came back, and you understand why. The whole issue with Helena was not something he would forget easily, though after you helped him everything went smoother and she acquired the visa request pretty quickly. 

You extend your hands in your desk and do a show of being done with his attitude, but he knows it's just to bother him. 

"We're supposed to arrive and book rooms for one night." Steve frowns, seemingly not liking that idea "the club is close, so we will have to set up the base there and communicate with you through walkie talkies. If anything goes sideways," you point at Murphy, "you have to act the fuck up and run to save us" He chuckles.

"You make it sound so easy" Javier sighs. You wish Murphy could go with you, but unfortunately, the new Siboney Club doesn't let any man or woman that goes alone inside, and you can't go with him instead of Javi, he would stand out like a sore thumb. The club is not so far from the Comuna 3, and you're guessing that has something to do with why they're meeting there. Murphy will be 6 minutes away, so everything must be okay with him and the other soldiers as back up if anything goes wrong.

You hope it doesn't. 

"You want some?" Javi asks as he extends you a wrapped bundle of meat empanadas. He had left to go to Salomé earlier, returning with a sour look and bags of food hanging from his arms.You figured he had stumbled upon Alexander, Cata's grandson, whom he doesn't like one bit. He didn't say anything but came into the room mumbling under his breath about a"stupid pretty spoiled bratt". 

"Give them to me!" You shout as you jump to grab them. Both men laugh as you move all the papers and unwrap them in your desk. You probably shouldn't be eating there, the smell will spread all over the office and you'll have to deal with it all day.

You stop caring as you take the first bite. Steve gives you a funny look, his eyebrow raised. Then you realize he most likely has never had one and shove the bundle towards him.

"Pick one," you say, grinning at him. "And I assure you life will be different from now on"

He looks at you, doubtful, but grabs one nothingless. Javi stares at everything with amusement glinting in his eyes. His chest fills with warmth every time you get enthusiastic for something as simple as food. Every day he hopes you will stay that way, untainted by all the shit you have to go through in this job, and tries to take the hits himself.

As Steve takes the first bite, you can practically see sparks fly from his body, licking his lips as he represses a groan.

"This is fucking great" he says once he swallows. You pump your fist in the air.

"Of course it fucking does. It's Colombia, Murphy, live a little and try new things."

He bows to listen to you. Javi can already picture how you're gonna get him to try the craziest things just as you got him too. Mild jealousy invades him, but he shrugs it off.

You start eating, letting out obscene sounds at every bite you take. Heat rises from his chest and he turns around to read the reports you last wrote and check everything's fine. He can't concentrate though, his mind wandering to places he shouldn't allow at every groan you make.

Steve stands up from his chair, leaning over your food and extending his hand to take another one. You bat his hand away and pull the bundle closer to you.

"Give me more!" He demands, pushing your arms away. With quick reflexes, you wrap them up again and throw them to Javi, and he catches it mid air with an amused smile playing at his lips.

"Leave my food alone!"

"You have to share!"

"Go buy your own!"

You wrap yourselves in an easy banter about food, Javi chuckling from his desk as he looks at the two of you. The way you act so loose around Steve sets him on his nerves, but he's willing to try and accept this if it means you'll have an easier time around here. 

"Leave her alone Murphy" he finally says, command evident in his voice. Both of you turn to look at him, and you smile as he gets uncomfortable from the power of both your stares. Despite this, he doesn't yield.

Steve falls back into his chair without looking away. Now, Javi grabs the bag again and hands him a different bundle of empanadas.

"I figured she would want you to taste them," he says, nonchalant. Stunned, you take your own food as he hands them back to you and returns to read the reports.

You turn to look at Murphy with your mouth open. He only smiles and winks at you.

Now he's sure he understands what the thing between you two is about.

----

Taglist:

@fioccodineveautunnale @storiesofthefandomloversreblogs @thisisthe-way @marydjarin @synystersilenceinblacknwhite

[shadowturtlesstuff]

Does anyone else have irrational fears?

Mine is spiders and insects and stuff

Like the big ones are beetle and spiders

I can’t stand them

If I see one I panic, my heart feels as though it’s about to explode and my hands shake for the next like three hours even if the things gone.

But I’ve always been like that. And you’d think by now my family would stop laughing. I say all of them, my dad doesn’t care that much. He’ll just kill it if he knows about it and move on. Which I guess is good?

Now I’m not saying I don’t get it. None of them have the fear so they done understand and I’ve never been able to express it without just ending in ‘I just hate and I just can’t.’

But like I’m pretty good at hiding it at school. Only those close to me would know. Whenever there’s a spider and the freak outs start I usually just stay silent and try to ignore everything till it’s over. I can talk about them but if I’m on my own I freak. I have coutless stories where I’ve ran out of the room cuz I’ve seen one and then I’ve had to stand there and calm myself before I ask someone to kill it for me. It always ends up with them saying ‘it’s just a spider.’

Like yeah I know, but doesn’t mean I ducking want to see it.

My most resent terrors are beetles, that has definitely gotten worse.

I had one like months ago just appear at night. I could hear it scurrying around and I tried to kill it. I thought, it’s 2am, I can manage this. I got my boot and stamped on it. Left the room to get tissue whilst also calm myself and came back and it was fine. Now @fang1rling-again can attest to the amount of panic I had that night. It was the fucking worst and it still rattle me. But both my brother and mom laughed.

In the end they both apologized and stopped. That night. In the morning that made some small jokes. My brother imitated the sound and I felt sick. But obviously just laughed along with them.

Like a few days (maybe even 1) there was another on my wall. (I have no idea why there are so many but I hate it.) it was on my art works and I panicked so much. Cuz like, I can’t squish it on the wall cuz then I need to get rid of my artwork (of feyre) but I’m really proud of it, that’s why it on the wall. So I sort of leave and pace for a little knowing full well the ridicule will follow. My mom comes upstairs and funds out. She’s kinda pissed she had to kill yet another one but does it anyway. (The drawing was fine, the creature moved off it whilst I was pacing. )

Again couple days later there’s another one. Right next to my bed. When I say that I mean next to it. I have a sofa bed which is low to the ground and next to a wall. So where I sleep it was on the wall to my left. Once again the panic was there. Once again my mom has to kill it. Once again she laughed, and said it’s only a beetle. Even tried to move the tissue that it was dead it towards me. That day I just wasn’t in the mood for it and just died inside slowly.

Now next is a spider story. Which is actually funny (ish) (only because like the day before something actually scary happened outside my house that we had to call the police for and I wasn’t scared at all) but anyway I was outside next to my front door, I finished watched a polandbananabooks video and was about to write more judeXcardan. But I look up and there’s a spider. So my mom has to kill it. But she misses and it dissapears. Cuz of my fear I stop using the laptop till the next day. However whilst in the living room my mom tells my dad who sighs and goes to try and find it. It wasn’t there. So eh left it. I haven’t seen it since and I sort of hate sitting there even tho it’s like my fav space cuz it’s just me and the laptop, with YouTube or writing it tumblr.

Finally cut to tonight. For the past week I kept hearing the sounds out a beetle and I just thought I was paranoid so I ignored it. But tonight I was fed up so I tried to look for it. Turns out it was in a can in my bin. I panicked, cuz obv. But also it’s in a energy drink can which is not allowed to have but do. So my options are wait till I take the rubbish out, make the thing fall out and kill it. Or move it outside my room in a box and wait till I can take my rubbish outside. That way it’s not in my room and I can finally go to sleep without hearing it and making my head explode. So that’s what I did. My brother actually suggested it cuz I let him know I was freaking out. He was actually good, didn’t laugh, didn’t mock. I think he finally gets that it’s an irrational fear that isn’t going away, that drains me and genially messes with me. I try and keep it hidden bc it’s so stupid and I hate it so much. But here I am, writing this to see if it helps just trying to explain it slightly, crying ever so slightly whilst listing to Hamilton to cheer me up. It’s so weird, cuz I don’t consider myself to be easily afraid. But my entire life I have always been afraid of creatures. I have countless, COUNTLESS, stories of times I’ve seen one and ran. My paranoid brain still thinks I can hear it.... wait. Idk if it is actually in the can outside my room or if it got out whilst I left to talk to my brother. I hate this

Apparently this isn’t a reminder about fears it explain as it happens. But idk if it actually is. Imma check the can..

My mom came upstairs and now knows. She seemed annoyed I didn’t tell her but hasn’t really done anything. She belives it’s in the can and told me to go to bed. So the can is still there (she allows me to drink energy drinks my dad doesn’t, so that’s why it still has to be there till I can take my rubbish out) (it’s a whole thing that kinda sounds stupid but yh)

So it’s there, maybe. I think my brain was messing with me when I thought I heard it. Idk. But my mom didn’t laugh at me this time. Which helps. However she did keep asking about the thing like I dared to peer into the can and look at it properly to know everything about it. Even tho in reality she knows I barley touched the can as I moved it

Anywayyyy, rant over? Is this a rant? A reminicence Of fears or a walk me through experience of it. Either way I think it helped me slightly. I’m not shaking any more, and now I can hopefully start sleeping without hearing it and my brain messing up.

[i-write-sometimes-blog]

Desert Flowers (Rey x Reader)

Request: What if when you're born you have a black band around your wrist and when you meet your soulmate it grows into a tattoo up your arm, and one day R happens to bump into Rey. As maybe a kiss at the end??? Idk I got this idea from somewhere else and I think it's so cute!! Love your work, it always makes me smile when I see you've added something! By anon.

Words: 1,973

A/N: This idea was literally so cute! Hope you are having a good day/night. Let me know what you think.

Everyone had a soulmate or so they said, find it was a mission many people had as a lifetime goal, wanting so bad to find that person who would make the black band on their wrist turn into a full arm length tattoo.

Walking through the crowded market you admired the people passing by, hundreds of unknown faces all around under the burning suns of Tatooine. There were people from every corner of the galaxy, selling or buying the things the big market provided, but your gaze focused on the arm of a woman shopping next to you. Your eyes were mesmerized with the complex design that covered her entire arm in an endless looking labyrinth of black ink, a soulmate’s stamp.

“There you are, babe” said a tall man as he wrapped his arms around the woman next you, the same strange ink labyrinth laying on his arm, there was the soulmate.

You smiled and walked away. For a moment your gaze went to your naked arm and the black bracelet like band on your wrist. It had always been there, you were born with it just as the rest of them but it had never change into something and it never really bothered you at all until now.

As you continued your way through the crowd you observed some black bands like yours wondering if one of them would be the one but as they passed by your hopes dropped when nothing happened on your wrist. Maybe this soulmate thing wasn’t for you, there were people who died without finding their soulmate and were buried as they were born, with a black band on their wrist… and you didn’t want to be one of them.

In your childhood you used to imagine the person you were destined to meet someday, imagine their features, their smile. You used to draw on your skin pretending it was your soulmate’s stamp. While you were growing the image of their face faded away with the sandstorms of the planet and you no longer painted things on your arm, just kept living day after day feeling a void within you and hoping it would be filled someday.

Lost in your thoughts you didn’t notice the group of people running towards you, it was until you felt a shoulder bumping into you that you woke up to reality only to met with a pair of concerned hazel eyes.

“Sorry.” said the girl in front of you.

“Rey! We have to go!” you heard a man calling her. She gave you an apologetic smile before she rushed in the direction of the two boys that were waiting for her.

Your confused gaze followed her as she ran, a small droid beeping behind her rolling as fast as it could. Unconsciously you smiled and shook your head as you started walking away but before you could do it you felt something weird in your left hand, a tickle that spread through your whole arm.

Extending it in front of you, you witnessed how the black band on your wrist started to transform into something new. First some black lines left the band moving up slowly becoming stems that climbed your arm tangling with each other as a climbing plant does around a tree. Then you saw small ink figures that suddenly blossomed into delicate flowers.

You had met you soulmate. But who was it?

Looking around the crowded market you hoped to find someone experimenting the same thing you were going through, however the market seemed to be the same as before, nobody even seemed to notice you stood in the middle of the road. Then you finally realized.

“Her.” you muttered. What was her name? You tried to remember. “Rey” you said almost afraid of pronouncing her name. You turned around, she was too far gone.

Doubting for a second you ran towards the girl you had not even formally met but you felt like you knew. Millions of questions formed in your head as you ran through the people, dodging some droid from time to time searching desperately for her face again. It was probably not her, you weren’t sure about it, you needed a proof.

The idea of that girl being your soulmate made you smile, you saw her for a few seconds yet you wished to know more about her, even if she wasn't your soulmate, you wished to see her again.

Then you saw her ready to get into a big starship, something was stopping her, something in her left arm that kept her distracted from her friends telling her to get inside.

"Rey!" it blurted out of you dragging her attention to you. Her eyes followed you until you were closer to her. Finally you stood there looking at her trying to find the right words. She looked as perplexed as you when she laid her eyes on your arm covered in ink flowers.

She had the same design on her arm.

"I- I" you tried to say something, anything but what to say? you couldn't think of anything.

"We have to go!" Said a man stepping outside, he stopped when he spotted you. "Who is her? What's going on?" He asked.

"I- I'm Y/N" you said catching Rey smiling from the corner of your eyes.

Rey went silent for a moment then she raised her arm showing her flowers to her friend who glanced at it with a surprised smile.

"Y/N" Rey said, her voice was soft and gentle as she pronounced your name for the very first time eliciting a wave of warmth over your body. She opened her mouth to speak again but instead you heard another man calling from inside.

“Guys, they’re coming so you better get in!”

Looking over your shoulder you saw figures coming closer that your recognized even though they were far, a group of well known bandits, that was why they wanted to leave the planet so desperately.

Your gaze went back to Rey, she seemed to be as worried as you, both knowing she would have to go.

"Y/N, come with me" she urged to say with a pleading gaze.

"What?"

"Please, come with me" she said. Your mind filled with every kind of questions and emotions. Leaving you home was a thing you never expected, but you also didn't expect to find the person that matched your tattoo, your soulmate. You have just found her and at the same time you were going to lose her.

"I've spent my whole life looking for you, Y/N." She told you as she took your hand, it felt familiar, known and yet unexpected. "I'm not going to lose you now that I found you."

The beat of your heart rushed a bit more with her words. Never felt this kind of warmth inside your chest before, this much affection, this much wanted, this much love. And after a moment you decided maybe this was the right thing to do. Certainly there was nothing left for you there but maybe there was a chance for a future with the woman in front of you.

You gave her a tiny smile.

"I'm not planning on losing you either." You said squeezing her hand softly. She looked at you and for a brief moment you felt complete, finally whole and the time seemed to frozen between the two of you.

"Rey, we seriously have to go!" Screamed the pilot bringing you back to reality.

Without letting go of your hand she guide you inside the big ship, the gates closed behind you and then finally it took off.

*****

It took you some time to fully understand what happened, it just seemed all so surreal for you to travel across the space with her. The simple idea of Rey was like a dream came true.

You started knowing each other though you felt like you already knew her so well , you had more things in common than you imagined.

She told you about the way she lived in that planet that was very similar to yours and all the things she had to do to survive. But she got a bit emotional, almost upset as she told you that since she was a child her only goal was to find her soulmate but never got to find in back on Jakku. She just wanted someone who would understand her, listen her, she wanted to find her place and a family. Someone who would love her, just like you.

"You're the best thing that has happened to me, Y/N." she confessed once, with pure affection on her sweet voice.

"I feel the same way about you, Rey" you told her sincerely feeling that warm sensation in you and your heart in rhythm with hers.

"Never mentioned it before, but I really love our stamp." She giggled and you watched it for a second.

"It is really pretty."you told her.

"It's more than that," she smiled "it's meaningful."

"Elaborate." You giggled.

"Who many time did you see flowers back in Tatooine?"

"Not as much as I would have like to." You said.

"Yes, because of the weather. We both know there are not many flowers in a desert but those that dare to bloom there are strong."

"Just as you, Rey."

"Us, Y/N. We've been through a lot, you and me. Flowers also mean fragility, everyone is fragile somehow. They bloomed so it must mean growth or something. And then… the way the stems entangle with each other…" she shook her head with a smile.

"What is it?" You asked curious "what does it means?"

"Y/N, you ever believed in this soulmate thing? You thought it was possible for you to find it?" She questioned you.

"Well, as a kid was all I wanted. Then I started to doubt it when I grew up and nothing happened. But then there was you." You held her hand. "It's never been more real."

She glanced at you for a time, a soft smile laying on her lips that allowed those lovely little dimples to show.

"You didn't answer my question, Rey. What does it mean?" you rose your voice again.

"The way our paths crossed and that maybe we should stay together. It's silly but I know this flower. It means love, returned love." She said blushing slightly. "It sounds so crazy, I know. "

"It doesn't" You said smiling "it actually makes sense." You told her.

"Really?" She said a bit surprised.

After all this time with her that was all you wished for, you hoped she would feel the same way about you, you wished her to love you just as much as you loved her and her actions told you so.

You leaned close to her, eyes focused on her pale pink lips yearning to finally meet them. A part of you already knowing them. Then you close the small distance between you and pressed your lips on hers making the world around you fade away. You felt her soft lips kissing you back as the void inside you was completely filled. Returned love, Rey was right.

Rey glared at you as the kiss was over, resting her forehead on yours, her pupils were dilated while her mouth was curving into a heartwarming smile. There was no need for words, the sight of her made you felt alive, love, completed.

Everyone had a soulmate or so they said, find it was a mission many people had as a lifetime goal, wanting so bad to find that person who would make the black band on their wrist turn into a full arm length tattoo.

You found yours.

Tagging: @1-800-depressedlesbian

(In case you want to be tagged for specific things or anything I write, just let me know)

[fanfic-collection]

Loki x Reader - Whumptober 28 Beaten

28 Beaten

-

This one got kinda idk even - but I’m throwing it at y’all to read cus I wrote it

-

With a grunt, you hoisted the Asgardian into the air, grasping him by the throat and slammed him into the ground. There was silence for a moment as those watching stared in silent awe. Slowly you straightened up, looking around for another contender. The man on the ground struggled for a moment before falling still.

'Stay down.' You growled, sticking your boot on his chest, 'You're beaten.'

Cheers rang out, men and women alike. Flagons of mead ran freely as drunken song started up at your exploits. You gazed around the ring of Asgardians, looking for other possible contenders, but no one else seemed keen on stepping forward. With a stiff nod, you stepped to the side, reaching for your daggers and cloak.

From amongst the crowd, a man seemed to materialize, dressed in a green hooded cloak, pulled low over his face. He seemed to be maintaining a low profile as he held out your cloak to you. You raised an eyebrow as you stared at the man, looking down at him. He didn't seem perturbed by your unusual height or pallid skin, nor inhuman black eyes.

'Thank you.' You murmured as you took the grey-silver cloak from him and clasped it around your shoulders.

The man nodded, 'Might I talk with you?'

You looked at him curiously before nodding and following him through the crowd.

He passed through the people easily, cutting through like a snake through sand. For you, the people parted, giving you a wide birth when they recognized who you were, try as you might to disguise yourself; your height gave you away. Still you ducked low and struggled to twist and turn, dancing your way through the crowd, following this mysterious man, making your way from the main thoroughfare, curious as to what nature of business he might have in mind.

You were more than confident, armed fully once again, if he were some sort of assassin that you could defend yourself. Though you didn't know exactly what he wanted. The earlier sparring matches had mostly been simple wrestling bouts, had they been to the death, you supposed it might have drawn more attention, but this was unusual.

Finally you rounded the corner, into a dimly lit alleyway and found yourself face to face with the man from before. He stood gazing at you, a small smile on his face, a small crown on his forehead with short gold horns that hadn't been immediately visible beneath the cowl of his hood.

'Prince Loki.' You blinked, tilting your head, recognizing the symbol of the crown prince of Asgard.

Loki pointed at his horns, 'My reputation precedes me. I thought I'd wear smaller ones these days, for subtlety.'

'I have never heard of you to be subtle.'

Loki smirked. 'I have heard of you though, fair lady, though less in name.'

You crossed your arms.

'It seems you've finally come to Asgard, to thrash the hel out of our lovely soldiers.'

'I have heard tell of their strength.'

Loki nodded, 'Yes, you put a good thirty of them in the infirmary before they stopped coming at you. It's a pity Thor's eyes are for another and Sif isn't interested.'

You smirked, 'So it would seem.'

'So your challenge goes, any who can defeat you in single hand to hand combat, shall have your hand in marriage as well as your vast wealth and power?' Loki asked.

You nodded, raising an eyebrow. 'Yes, if they can beat me. What is your play, Loki, god of tricks and mischief?' You felt your heart flutter, you had never been this close to the trickster before. There had been stories of trickster god but you had never actually heard stories that he was this... handsome. The stories spent more time discussing Thor these days. Someone really should rectify that. Your eyes flickered to his long black hair, his angled face, his pale complexion... You looked at his green eyes, the way his gold horns rested menacingly on his black brows as he gazed up at you almost innocently. The slightly parted lips as he spoke, you couldn't help but wonder how they felt, slightly pink, parted and soft.

You felt a bit of heat rise to your cheeks as you were pulled back to the moment.

Loki raised his eyebrow.

Glaring at him, you had the vaguest sensation that he might be able to read minds. 'I asked you a question.' You demanded angrily, fighting the urge to stamp your foot.

Loki chuckled softly, 'I heard your question, and I am aware of my many colorful titles. Perhaps I am interested in your riches and power?'

'For yourself?'

'Perhaps I wish to add affluence to Asgard's vault.'

You snorted.

Loki rolled his eyes, 'Perhaps I have my own reasons.'

'Name them. You are not one to seek out a fight for fun.'

This time Loki flushed and looked away. 'It's not important.'

You tilted your head and looked at him curiously, 'What do you mean?'

Loki crossed his arms, looking back at you and glared, 'Does it matter, I said I wanted to challenge you. You said you would accept any challenger.'

'Well there has to be a witness so it is known that I did not throw the competition and you did not cheat.'

'Why would you throw the competition?' Loki turned his head to the side and gazed at you from the corner of his eye.

You sputtered for words, 'It is my oath, I must be honest to it.'

Loki nodded suspiciously, 'If you don't want to fight for your hand in marriage you don't have to.' He muttered.

You grumbled irritably, 'I have made an oath since the day I could fight, and I intend to keep it.' Once more gazing at him suspiciously you asked, 'What is your reasoning? And you can't say it doesn't matter.'

Exasperated, Loki tossed up his hands. 'I didn't just happen upon you by chance.'

You blinked and nodded slowly, realizing that actually made a bit too much sense. 'Have you been following me?'

Loki glared. 'It sounds terrible when you say it like that. I haven't been following you per se.'

You raised your eyebrow.

'I may have been... keeping... watch or monitoring your situation in Asgard.'

You blushed, crossing your arms. Loki sighed, 'The times when you were alone, away from the crowds and the fighting.' He looked away, trailing off.

Your face softened, 'You saw that?'

Loki nodded looking back at you.

'How much of that?'

'I saw you reading, I saw you at the shops trying to blend in, I saw how you struggled to because,' Loki picked at his hand.

You nodded, used to your unusual appearance, you were an unusual creature, your species uncommon. You tugged slightly at your cloak, subconsciously wrapping yourself tighter in it, though Loki didn't seem to notice.

'I saw you gazing at the stars, feeding the animals in the streets, but you always held yourself with poise and grace, no matter how you were treated. They see you as a prize to be won but you're more than that.'

You felt tears welling in your eyes, stepping forward you wrapped your arms around him and hugged him tightly, 'Damn the vow... I must keep it but damn it. For me, you have to win. I will try harder than any other against you, but you must win.'

For a moment, Loki stiffened in shock before slowly hugging you back. Kissing the crown of your head, Loki whispered, 'I will.'

-

The next day, the crowd gathered as ever. Your cloak hanging with your daggers and belt on the edge of the ring. 'Who will face me?' You called, wondering which Asgardian challenger would step forward. To your surprise, none did. The many men that had tried and tried again stood wearily around the edge of the ring shaking their heads, seemingly having learned their lessons.

The crowd fell hushed as the ring parted and a man in a green cloak stepped forward. Lowering his hood and dropping his cloak to the side, Loki stepped forward. A babble of voices rose up at he realization that the crown prince Loki was taking the challenge.

'Loki?'

'Loki's challenging?'

Confusion and slight outrage, wondering if it was allowed, wondering if this was a trick in some way, how would he cheat? Would he cheat? Would there be honor to this? Could the trickster be trusted?

'Do you challenge me?' You asked.

Loki smirked. 'I do.'

You blushed, 'Very well.' You sank into a fighting stance, wondering how he would rush at you. You didn't know how he could cheat, given that this was a fist fight, but he seemed unarmed. Biting your lip, you prepared to parry his blow.

Loki grinned.

Blinking, there was a shimmer of green, and suddenly there were four of him. The crowd gasped.

'He's using magic!' Someone yelled.

'Is that cheating?'

You laughed in disbelief as the Loki's approached you, not sure which one was real, you had to assume all were real. You couldn't parry two kicks and two punches properly, so you settled into group fighting, preparing to fight off a group, something you were also trained for, but apparently Loki was trained to fight as a group. The onslaught of blows came at once, and as you bashed away at the illusions, the real blow came from behind, hitting you in the back and knocking you to the ground. You gasped as you fell to the ground. The crowd gasping as you struggled to stand back up.

One blow was not enough to knock you out, nor truly wind you, even though Loki hit hard, but it certainly threw you off. He hit harder than anyone else who had managed to land a blow and that... was few and far between.

You blinked, staring at him dazed.

Loki danced back to where he started, smiling at you as again, his illusion returned another small army appearing.

This time the small army approached again, and you spun around, prepared for the blow to come from behind, but as you turned around to block it, the blow came from what had been your front. You snarled, turning around and grabbing at him in time, tossing him to the ground. Loki rolled away back on his feet and springboarding back upright with a soft laugh, light on his feet.

The crowd watch the lightning fast movements, amazed.

Once more Loki was back where he started and you watched, waiting for the army but he didn't bother. It occurred to you that Loki was showing off, for you. He was displaying his fighting prowess in front of the crowd to show that he could beat you to protect you.

Panting heavily, chest heaving, you watched Loki as he walked towards you, light on his feet. He was toying with you. You lunged at him and Loki sprung back, the two of you tussled on the ground, you getting the upper hand as the two of you fought back and forth. Loki excelled at daggers but you truly were excellent at hand to hand combat.

A burst of green magic erupted from Loki and you flew into the air, launched back and landed on your back groaning softly, Loki sat up, walking over and stood over you, foot on your chest as he breathed heavily. 'Do you yield?' He panted.

You moved to grab his foot and throw him off, but you felt magical energy binding your wrists, pinning you in place. Tugging futilely, you pulled with all your strength, thrashing on the ground, the crowd watched in hushed silence as you tugged and thrashed.

Snarling and growling, you continued to tug at the bindings. Glaring up at Loki from ground, you continued to pull as hard as you could, threatening to dislocate your shoulder.

'You're going to hurt yourself.' Loki muttered.

'You cheated.' You grumbled softly under your breath, as you panted heavily, finally collapsing into place.

'You never said I couldn't use magic.' Loki replied, foot still planted firmly on your chest. 'Really, never once have you fought a sorcerer?'

You grunted, still tugging at the bindings. 'Not one as skilled as you, most just throw fireballs, which can be avoided.'

Loki smirked, looking suitably smug. 'So do you yield?” Loki asked again, loudly.

Finally the bitter words you thought you would never say but to the one you were pleased to say them to, left your mouth, 'I yield to you, Loki of Asgard.'

Loki removed the bindings and stepped off of you, reaching down and taking your hand, pulling you to your feet. 'Excellent.'

[blancheharrington]

Can you write some prompts of every day jolex also the airplane jolex ones I LOVE especially since we know they HAD to have been sleeping on each other’s shoulder/ cuddling of some sort idk I just love those

Oneshot #18(ish)

Jo and Alex are on their way to their honeymoon but an overlay in San Francisco seems like the perfect time for Alex to give a gift to Jo. 

Alex tried to rush through the slim aisle of the plane that they had just boarded while he scanned the overhead compartments for their seat numbers. He was inching closer to their spot when an older gentlemen alarmingly popped out of his seat and into the pathway,  causing Alex to quickly halt to a dramatic stop and making Jo accidentally ram into his backside. “Sorry.” She mumbled to him while instinctively rubbing at his back as she returned her carry on bag to her shoulder.

“Not your fault.” Alex said over his shoulder to her while discretely motioning at the inconsiderate man in front of them who was taking his sweet time to take off his jacket and place it into his overhead bin. After a few moments dragged on and when the man sat back down into his seat, Alex hurried on his quest to find their seats, hating to be the guy that caused the traffic jam on the airplane.

When they made it to their designated aisle he stepped to the side in an effort to allow Jo to sneak into her spot next to the window. He tossed his bag quickly into the bin, and then grabbed hers and squashed it in next to his. He began to shuffle down into his seat when he noticed an overwhelmed mother behind him with a sleeping toddler clung to her chest as she struggled to lift her suitcase. He stepped out of the aile once more. “Here, let me help.” He offered as he took the suitcase from her arms. The mother let out an appreciative breath as she watched his arms flex under his shirt while he lifted her bag into the compartment.

“Thank you.” She smiled, touching his bicep for a long moment before pulling back when she noticed his ring. The mother glanced towards Alex’s seat after he nodded back to her and sat down. She watched on as she settled herself and her child into their places.

She noticed Jo’s smile to Alex as he buckled himself into his seat and placed his hand on her thigh. The woman smirked at her foolish obsession over the couple, wondering to herself if she’d ever be able to find someone who helped strangers on a plane without motive. She watched them for the entire duration of their flight until their layover in San Francisco. As her son intensively watched cartoons on her ipad, she attentively watched the couple’s loving gestures. She noticed Jo’s soft touches to his face and Alex’s warm embraces. She watched them play with each other’s hands and fight over the armrest. She swooned at the couple when they shared their trail mix and they bickered because Alex had eaten all of the pretzels.

“You don’t even like the pretzels!” She had heard him say to her.

“But I like knowing that I have the option of eating them if I want to!” Jo had bickered back while clutching the bag to her chest.

During the middle of their flight, the woman’s eyes widened when she watched them both get up from their seats, each a minute apart. She laughed to herself when they didn’t return for ten minutes. When her child began to whimper, she welcomed Alex’s intervention with a game he called “interrupting jellyfish.” and she appreciated his wife’s offering of M&Ms. When the plane landed at the airport in San Francisco and Jo and Alex had let her into the aisle first, she turned to them while they were halted by traffic and interrupted their love bubble. “You guys are a beautiful couple.” She said.

“Thank you.” They both replied back to her and then glanced at each other, impressed with themselves.

As the woman turned to face forward she heard her son drop his cup onto the floor, but when she went to pick it up, she had been beaten to it by Jo who was handing the cup back her boy. “And you have a very sweet boy.” Jo had said to her.

The woman smiled in return and when they exited the plane she ushered her child to the bathroom, all the while hoping that the couple she had just met would have the happiest of marriages and that she would be lucky enough to find someone that made her as happy as they appeared. As she held the bathroom door open for her son, she spotted Jo and Alex once more embracing in a tight hug while they waited in the line to buy coffee. Her son broke her focus when he called out to her, “Mommy, those people on the plane were so nice.”

“They were, weren’t they?” She replied as she followed him into the stall.

“That woman on the plane was really nice.” Jo said as she sipped her iced latte and flicked at the screen of her phone while her and Alex waited to board their next flight.

“Cute kid, too.” Alex agreed, as he ruffled through his backpack and pulled out a short stack of pamphlets. “Oh here, look through these. The hotel sent them to us.”

Jo took the pile from his hand and shuffled through them. “Mountain biking. Surf lessons. Zip lining. Stingray petting. Where’s the brochure for the hot stone massages?” She joked.

“Last one.” He replied nonchalantly, while he continued to ruffle through his bag, picking it up off of the floor and putting it on his lap to dig from a better angle.

“Oh!” Jo said. Somewhat shocked when she thumbed through the pile to discover an actual brochure full of facial treatments and a list of massage options. “Do you want to get one of those cheesy couples massages on the beach where some strangers rub at our naked body while we listen to a CD with the best hits of early 2000s conch shell blowing?”

Alex looked up from his search, “Is that even a thing?”

Jo shrugged her shoulders as she glanced at the other brochures. “I don’t know. Probably.” She looked up from her trance just now noticing how long Alex had been searching for something. “What are you looking for? If you’re checking to see if you remembered underwear, I packed some for you in your suitcase.”

“I’m not looking for underwear. But I’m kinda interested in the zip lining. What do you think?” He quipped back, changing the subject.

Jo went back to looking at her phone and shook her head. “Mmm…Falling through a forest at a hundred miles an hour when the only thing protecting me is a metal chord and a flimsy harness? No thanks. I’d like to live long enough to see our one year wedding anniversary nevermind our 50th. But you sure can if you want to. But, how long do you think I should mourn you before I can remarry?” She glanced back up at Alex as he suddenly dropped his bag back to the ground and held a small box in his hand. “What’s that?” She asked.

“A present!” Alex beamed as he handed the gift to Jo.

Jo’s eyes furrowed as she wondered what she did to deserve a gift from him. “Being married to you is enough of a present.” She said as she gently squeezed his cheeks with her hand.

“Cute. Now will you open the damn thing.” Alex wrung his hands together in excitement while he watched Jo pull off the wrapping paper he had Arizona wrap for him the morning of their wedding.

“Oh, it’s a necklace!” Jo cheered, opening the box to lift out a simple gold chain with a circle pendant hanging from it. She held it up in front of her face, admiring it’s simplicity but still wondering what had sprouted this particular present as they had never been a couple to harp on gift giving.

Alex could tell that Jo was slightly confused, so he reached out to grab the necklace by it’s pendant. He flipped it over onto his palm and showed it to her. “It has a K stamped in it. For Karev. Your new name.” He smiled excitedly.

Jo’s eyes began to swell with tears at the sincerity of his gesture. She let a small, “aww” escape from her lips as she couldn’t bare to contain all of the cuteness bottling up inside of her. Alex clutched the necklace in his fist as Jo leaned into him. Pressing kisses onto his lips and at the side of his cheeks. She pulled back to admire the necklace once more. “It’s beautiful, Alex. I love it.”

“Yea?” He asked, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Of course!” Jo gathered her hair in her hands and swiveled her body away from him in the chair so he could hook it around her neck. As she felt his hands release, she let down her hair and played with the pendant between her fingers, turning back to face him. “Thank you. For this. For everything.”

“I should be the one to thank you. For being crazy enough to marry me.” He said, grasping a hold of Jo’s hand while thumbing at her rings.

“There’s nothing crazy about it. You’re my person. You’ve always been my person. You’ll always be my person!”

Alex couldn’t help but beam at Jo’s words, leaning forward to catch her off guard with a kiss so sweet that it caused her to let out a small moan. Neither of them caring much about the strange man sitting across from them staring. Jo wrapped her arms around his neck and curled the hair at the end of head with her fingers. When they pulled apart, they rested their foreheads against each other, “Love you.” Alex whispered to her as the airline desk assistant paged overhead.

“Now boarding groups A and B for flight 285 to Honolulu. Again, we are now boarding groups A and B for flight 285 to Honolulu.”

“That’s us!” Jo said, jumping to a standing position and stretching out her hands for Alex to grab onto.

With the help of Jo’s tug, Alex stood to his feet and tossed his backpack onto his shoulder. “Well, here we go.”

[how-the-feathers-have-fallen]

you remember this image, right? so I 1. couldn't find the og post about it and 2. went back on the hunt for it's origins.

i still haven't found much, other than an Amino which edited the pic without sourcing where they got it and the og Pinterest post, which says that Ryan said "You can't put your arms around a memory" about it. that's actually a song by Johnny Thunders which Ryan covered in 2012, and also tweeted "Can't put your arms around a memory", but I can't seem to connect that to the image.

and then by the time I got there. Google was no longer letting me image search. so I tried again.

AND ANSWERS WERE FOUND! but only partially

Tinsley Mortimer (from Real Housewives) hosted a New Year's Eve Party At Japonais Presented by SKY New York.

Panic! At The Disco and Pete Wentz were both in attendance to this event, and although I could not find the specific picture, the hair styles match, so you'd think it's this event, or at least circa 2006, right?

well. only maybe. because after looking through the pics, the outfits are completely different!

so now I'm stuck between the picture possibly being taken in late 2005/06 and Ryan having said something in 2012. i still have no idea.

First of all. Pop off Sherlock Holmes! Genuinely idk if this is just you (and honestly me cause I'm way too invested in this) just having extreme brainrot + internet sleuthing or you're cut out to be a detective but I'm so glad to be your John Watson that you just bounce ideas off of.

Now it's currently 1 a.m. and I've just had a mental beak over an art project but my brain is whirling.

Now that I'm looking again this Ryan in the picture looks a lot older than Brendon in the picture (idk maybe it's the scruff) so I'll just play devil's advocate for a second and say this could possibly point to this being a photoshop. Also the the proportions of Ryan's hand to his head feels horribly wrong and the lighting is odd but that could just be attributed to the flash. Maybe the photo was taken and then only slightly edited for quality for publishing or something?

Side note: is there a mark on the back of Ryan's hand there? Is it a tattoo do we know if he has one? I can't believe I'm about to ask this but do we have claer photos of his hands?

Also the glass in the lower left corner that Brendon is holding looks like a stock photo due to the white hue of the unfilled part of the glass but again, that could just be the flash.

These areas specifically:

Bother me.

Because the top one has a weird defined like between the hair where clearly they should have smushed together. This could be attributed to the shitty quality or Brendon's hair being gelled or sweaty but idk i don't think so.

Also the bottom part, Brendon's feels too... smooth? Too blended? Could be pixles. Could not.

Also the song lyric? Hear me out, could be something from a fic. Like you often see tumblr posts or memes on Pinterest and under it you'll see quotes from like a Wattpad story or something. If Ryan supposedly said it once and covered the song then there's no reason why a fan wouldn't use the song for a Ryden songfic. Our hypothetical writer here could have taken those pics from the New year's eve party and photoshoped them for their fic.

Or there could have been an outfit change at the party perhaps?

Also I looked at the years you mentioned and I looked them up. Specifically Brendon in 2006 and Ryan is 2012.

This is Brendon in 2006:

makes sense

And this is Ryan in 2012 (at least according to Google):

Notice the scruff the volume in the haircut/sytle.

Idk this all only 10 mins worth of thinking and I think the Google search of Ryan 2012 shouldn't be completely trusted cause Ryan had kinda stepped out of the lime light so he wasn't taking as many photos and they certainly weren't time stamped as thoroughly. Maybe we could ask bandom tumblr for 2012 Ryan pics? Ya know, for science? The case?

Also through what did you find out about panic!'s + Pete's attendance to the party? An article? Could you share the link? I could read through it for clues or try and find similar articles.

Also this if this American Housewife has a twitter we could check it. See if she posted an photos of it in 2006. Or check Brendon's socials (though I doubt we'll find anything remotely Ryan related there). Also if that fails there's always MySpace (tho that's a limited source since we'll only has archived screenshots) or Livejournal (after all it's proven usefull to the petekey girlies).

Also if you check my tag lexi's cursed ryden pictures and scroll you'll find the original ask you send to me

[theladypirate]

Have some baby Marla and Wrath. Tagging @feynites and @selenelavellan bc abom au. Wrath is old. It didn't know -how- old exactly, time passes differently in the Fade, it had told her. But it was old enough, and apparently strange enough, that most other spirits shied away from it. When they'd first become partners, after... after she had calmed down, Marla had been overwhelmed by the deep sense of loneliness Wrath carried with it, buried beneath the fire and the driving rage. She had crawled into the first dark place she could find and wept until she had dehydrated herself. As they'd gotten used to their new circumstances, Marla had made it a point to talk to it, and include Wrath in her decision making, on everything, which had baffled it at first. (We're friends, and I'm gonna look after you) she had told it (you don't have to be lonely, I'm always here) (...) (...thank you. But I still don't care what color socks we wear.) About a month after they'd teamed up, things had gotten rough. The tenuous equilibrium they had established had started fluctuating wildly. This resulted in mood swings that left Marla seething, but without a reason, or safe outlet, for her anger. Wrath rose up too close to the surface, and she would have to drag them away from public, because they had the wrong number of eyes and/or limbs, or they were suddenly three foot taller and starting to glow. (I'm hungry) Wrath had tried to explain. Marla, in desperation, had snuck into a public library after hours, and found an online 'roleplay' forum about abominations. Sketchy at best, but... /What does it mean when your 'friend' says it's hungry?/ she had typed. She sat refreshing the page for a few minutes, but before she could get an answer, she heard footsteps down the hall. She pulled the power cord and fled. It took a few more days of being the wrong height and having to wear oversized sunglasses to hide the extra eyes that kept stubbornly appearing before she managed to go back. She went during the day this time, not willing to be caught trespassing, as she wasn't sure what Wrath would do. It had been... pacing, for lack of a better word. Irritable and snappish, which meant -she- was irritable and snappish, and she felt lost. She wasn't doing a very good job of looking after her friend. Which just made her more upset, and in turn rankled Wrath. It was a Tuesday, mid morning, and the library was thankfully quiet. She'd still snuck past the librarian. There was no plausible reason she could give for a 12 year old to be wandering around unsupervised on a school day. Wrath curled around her spine and waited, impatient. She couldn't keep her feet still as she logged back into the forum. /What does it mean when your 'friend' says it's hungry?/ -14 replies (Hurry up) Wrath insisted. Marla clicked on the link eagerly. The first few replies were... graphic... in nature. They involved pictures, and suggestions of unwilling blood sacrifices, a couple of which insisted children were the best catalyst. Wrath growled, offended and vicious. (Don't look at those) it said, and she'd had to struggle for control of herself for a few minutes. (Not here! Wrath-) they were glowing, slightly. Marla pressed her lips into a thin line and scowled, her own patience worn thin after so many weeks of being out of balance. She took a deep breath and sought out the still, cold place in her mind. Wrath objected, but it was too distracted by its own anger to catch her in time. She dragged it into the stillness with her. They stopped glowing. Wrath coiled around her like a second skin, disgruntled and at once apologetic. (Help me read this) she told it. After the offending posts, there were a few more asking for details. Two posts, by the same user, SparksAlive, first asking what kind of friend she had, was her friend angry, or sad, or flirty...? The second one, several hours later, was more helpful. /Hi again Flash, I geuss ur offline but in case u see this, generally, if ur friend is hungry, they need smthg  that fits with their personality. Misery loves company, so sad friends like sad people. Flirty friends like to socialize and give gifts. If u have got an angry friend plz be careful they need lots of attn./ (Huh.) Mala thought it over. Wrath wasn't making any noise, but she was keenly aware of its presense, watching her. Towards the end of the replies, that same user had posted again, last night sometime. /hey Flash idk if ur still around plz let us know if ur OK it's a worry when sum1 goes dark/ /Thnks for the info Sparks/ she replied, mulling it over. Wrath prodded her, still impatient, but Marla was getting an idea. She pulled the power cable instead of turning off the computer, again, and quietly made her way over to the stacks. From here she could see the rest of the library. There were two other patrons in here, one at a table with her headphones in, and another a few seats down, half falling asleep in what looked like a medical textbook. College students, probably. The librarian was at her desk, busily sorting things. Marla took it in as she absently chewed her bottom lip. She didn't have a lot of practice with magic; had only really come into it last year. (I will help) Wrath insisted. (Okay. But be careful) Marla pulled at her magic softly, and felt Wrath wrap around her like a large temperamental cat. She let it go in a soft 'woosh'. Marla's eyes went wide as she realized their mistake. (Too much!) The man's head slammed into his book. He sat bolt upright and cursed loudly. The librarian fixed him with a withering look. "Shhhhhh!" Wrath rippled around her. (More.) It said (Look.) Marla wasn't sure what it was talking about, was about to leave, try something else, when she felt it. Irritation bordering on anger, coming from the librarian, malcontent confusion from the man. Wrath searched their shared lexicon to come up with a good analogy. (Like popcorn. A snack. Salty but unfilling. More.) It insisted. Oh. Yeah, she could do more, if that's what it needed. She pulled up her magic again, more confident this time. When she let it go, it was more focused. The man's chair shot back half a foot, and he slammed into his book again. This time he stood up and swore, looking around. The librarian's face scrunched up and she slammed the check-in stamp down. "SHHHHHHHHHH! This is a LIBRARY!" she managed to yell in a whisper. He turned to her, returning the tone. "Oh really? I HADN'T NOTICED." Marla giggled. Giddy from relief, as Wrath relaxed a bit, and she felt the tension that had been riding them the last few weeks slowly ease. "Who's there?" (Busted) Marla thought, still grinning. She practically skipped out of the stacks and stood next to the spinning display of harlequin novels, near the door. The librarian and the man both glared at her, but for different reasons. "How did you get in here? What are you doing here?" The librarian demanded, at the same time as the man said "What the fuck?" "FEED ME, SEYMORE!" Marla shouted, and knocked the spinning rack over with such force that a few of the books went flying. Wrath practically purred at the incoherent rage the librarian, who looked like she had just seen someone murdered, was exuding. Marla didn't stick around to see what other reactions there'd be. She bolted out the door, cackling, and down the street, knocking into a woman in a sharp business suit who spilled her coffee down her front. Wrath hummed happily at her outrage. Marla finally came to a halt down an alley several blocks away, still grinning like a madwoman, breathing hard. Wrath swirled around her, unseen, but more agreeable than it had been in a month. (Ya know?) Marla said, still giddy, (I think we're gonna be alright.)

[skartoargento]

Jensen/Pritchard fic idk

mfw I had the worst day at work (mentally) and all I wanted to do was either come home and cry and sleep or come home and write some weird fluff between Jensen and Pritchard.

I chose the latter and I think that was a mistake because it’s nearly 3am. Oh well. It has Pritchard wearing a suit. Because I bet he looks great in a suit.

This doesn’t have a title (yet?) I seem to be unable to write Pritchard and Jensen in an established relationship, so they’re always starting out in these fics.

On the balcony, high enough so the wind tugged at his coat and hair, Adam leaned his elbows on the railing and exhaled a plume of cigarette smoke into the night. Behind him, a burst of laughter punctured the low buzz of conversation, dulled somewhat by the wall of glass. The subtle bass of some song vibrated through his shoes, picked up by the sensors in his augmented feet.

The last time he'd endured Sarif's birthday soiree, his feet had been human, just like the rest of him, and Megan floated at his side in a dress of crimson silk. Dammit, he could still see her smile, brighter than the lights overhead.

Smoke dragged back into his lungs. His rebreather, alerted to the presence of toxic fumes, kicked in with a pinged message to his HUD. Warmth spread through his chest.

When he'd stepped out onto the balcony, a couple he didn't recognise took one look at his hands, the image processors at the side of his eyes, and the C.A.S.I.E stamp on his forehead, and stopped their drunken slow-dancing to gawk. A crowd of younger guys fell silent for a few moments – long enough for him to know what they thought. He ignored C.A.S.I.E's conversation suggestions, stalked to the railing and glared down at Detroit from behind his eye shields. A few minutes later, startled out of thoughts by Sarif's bellow of humour, he'd turned, and the balcony was empty.

The urge to walk back into the hall, to track down the couple and the group of assholes and ask them if they thought Sarif's guard dog would bite, burned so strongly that fear doused it out almost immediately.

Not that kind of person. Pricks like that shouldn't – didn't – affect him.

A soft click of door, and the volume increased, Sarif's raised voice above everything, then hushed back to a muted rumble with another click.

Car lights rushed against the black below. He took the last drag of his last cigarette and flicked the dying glow to join the cars. Waited. Footsteps clicked across paving, stopped at his side. Cyber-optics picked up movement at the corner of his eyes. He didn't have to wait long for a certain someone to start talking.

“Look who escaped the debacle of trying to find a decent suit for this thing.”

He turned, the proper words to irritate on the tip of his tongue, but they all failed before they made it past his lips.

Between various colours of turtleneck and the occasional hoodie, Pritchard's dress sense at work seemed to fall firmly in the category of 'I don't give a shit' – a studded belt, for God's sake, like a teenager – but Sarif never cared about things like that. In a dark suit, Pritchard gained a few angles previously hidden under that motorcycle jacket and those baggy pants, looked more like an actual person. The first couple of buttons of a white shirt lay open, just to squeeze in a slight edge of defiance, and a leather belt replaced studs.

His own confusion sent C.A.S.I.E into an intrusive flurry across his vision, besieged him with heart rate, biochemical analysis, and the option to send out pheromones. Probably rude to do that at a party.

A drink in each hand, Pritchard gestured back to the inside of the building with a shrug of shoulder. “I'm surprised Sarif hasn't been showing you off like a prize hound all night, especially with the London contingent putting in an appearance. Or did you manage to escape?”

He shifted, tore his eyes away from the suit and stared back over the rail. “I pulled security.”

“Well, you've done a wonderful job of securing the balcony. I feel very safe.”

He snorted, but it sounded more like amusement than derision. “I'm tired of waiting around for something to happen. No men with guns, no bomb threats... I'd rather be in there at the bar.”

“Yes, then instead of being moody and silent out here, you could be moody and silent in there. Besides, I brought you a drink.” In the half-darkness, Pritchard's eyes were steel, steady on his face.

Pupil dilation, C.A.S.I.E supplied.

Some augs were more trouble than they were worth.

He reached for the offered drink, some fruity cocktail mix in a highball glass, probably far stronger than it tasted, and hesitated before his hand made contact. “Sarif –”

“Is regaling Darrow with various boring baseball tales, and therefore not looking this way.” Pritchard's mouth twitched into something like a smile. “He's just got past the 'one time we had to chase a dog around the field' story, so he'll be a while. In any case,” ice cubes tinkled gently against the glass when Pritchard tilted it in his direction, “why shouldn't you have a drink? You can't get very drunk anyway.”

“Yeah. That damn health implant.” Fifteen minutes of being tipsy wasn't enough to justify a whole bottle of whiskey, but old habits were hard to break. Especially after the attack on the labs.

The tips of Pritchard's fingers brushed his when he took the glass, the lightest pressure his augmented hands could pick up. He washed his swallow down with half the drink. Yep, definitely a high alcohol content masked under peaches and raspberry. Not as high as whiskey, not nearly enough to even slightly affect his reasoning, but a few would probably have Pritchard singing on a table. He'd pay to see that.

“Like the suit, by the way,” he said after a few minutes of quiet sipping, “never thought how weird it'd be, seeing you wear one. It's like seeing Malik in a dress instead of pilot gear. Can't get over it.”

Pritchard drained the glass, considered the lonely ice cube at the bottom. C.A.S.I.E was all too quick to point out a slight expansion of blood vessels in Pritchard's cheeks. Romantic. “Mm. Well, Sarif's obsession with impressing London means we all have to suffer. It wouldn't be my first choice.”

Sometime during the drinking, Pritchard had edged closer, closer than he'd usual allow anyone else. Personal bubble had been popped, and instead of retreating he moved his arm to brush the sleeve of Pritchard's suit.

“Looks like he's not the only one trying to impress tonight, Francis.”

To Pritchard's credit, there was no insincere denial, no fumbling for a retort. Just a silence as good as any admission. A sigh, and Pritchard stared down over the railing. Behind them, a different song started, something loud and techno. Too loud in there, too quiet out here.

Warm skin slipped against the back of his hand. Pritchard's fingers found his, squeezed with a cautious pressure.

“So,” Pritchard said, tone light as though discussing the clear night's sky, “please don't crush my fingers with your super-aug strength.”

“I'll try and resist the urge.”

No intentions of pulling away or crushing fingers. He closed his eyes, squeezed back. Felt good to be touched again, to feel skin in his hand, breath against the side of his neck. When he turned his head to the side, his nose brushed another – damn, hadn't realised Pritchard got that close – and he nearly startled away. The fingers entwined in his moved to his cheek, steadied him. Pritchard's words ghosted over his lips, something insulting, endearing, something even with all his augs he couldn't hear for the blood pounding in his ears.

Pritchard leaned in, and the kiss tasted of peaches and raspberries.

Tension, coiling inside like tight spring, snapped. One hand went to the back of Pritchard's head, the other shattered the glass as he took the kiss deeper, as he tried to stifle whatever empty longing rose howling from his chest.

His hands wanted to roam, to explore under shirt and down the waistband of those pants, but the kiss broke, and he came back as though doused in icy water, breathing hard into Pritchard's neck. Not in his apartment, or anywhere remotely private, but Sarif's damn party. And he bet if he looked through the glass – yep, several people staring at them. Great. One little kiss and he went to pieces. Some fantastic head of security he turned out to be.

Pritchard took a step back, hair ruffled and shirt dishevelled, like they'd done a little more than just kiss. A few moments of controlled breathing, and Pritchard's hands went to the wayward strands of hair, smoothed them down or tucked them behind his ears. “Well. More enthusiastic than I expected.”

“Yeah.” Should he apologise, even if he didn't regret it? “Uh... you okay?”

“Me?” Pritchard smoothed the shirt back to where it should be. More or less. A glance behind them, at the few people still staring, seemed to hurry it along. “Safe to say this is going to get back to Sarif quickly. Any chance you could throw us both off the edge, land with your shiny Icarus aug so we can stay out of his way for the rest of the night?”

“Tempting, but I have a job to do. Should've thought about that before you tried to seduce me.”

“Succeeded.”  

“Whatever.” The howl faded to a slow growl instead. In some alternate timeline he would be dragging Pritchard along the streets to end the night in his bed, but alternate-timeline Adam apparently didn't care about consequences. He did, but not as much as he should. “Shit, I should probably make another sweep of the building.”

Pritchard set the glass on the ground, near the shards of his own glass, and slid a cigarette from the jacket pocket. “You really should. Do your job, Jensen.”A flick of lighter, and Pritchard's eyes stayed on him through an inhale and exhale of smoke. “What time is Sarif letting you go?”

“It's a party, so late. Or early, depending on how you like to think about it.”

Pritchard nodded, blew smoke out through his nostrils. “I'll be here.”

That did startle him. “All night?”

“Why not?” This time, Pritchard's eyes went to a spot over his shoulder, and the cigarette seemed a little less steady. “I don't think we were done.”

If he had a little less impulse control, he might have pounced at that, started something again and finished it right there. Luckily for the both of them, he could keep some things in line.

The warmth of the room grabbed him as soon as he opened the door. He took one look back, and couldn't bring himself to sneer at Pritchard's cheery wave. The morning couldn't come quick enough.