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#i wasn't sure where to put this so add on. she has a circle window because i said so <3
div1nity · 2 years
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@freeddead 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡   :   ❝ what does cora's bedroom typically look like. ❞    ——— (   RANDOM HEADCANONS  ‣‣  ALWAYS ACCEPTING )
CANON 01 :
a mattress on the floor ( twin, 39x75 ) the covers are typically dark - black on black - a duvet is folded at the bottom of the bed for her to reach over and pull it over, but mostly she uses her chequered blanket, thin and super light.
walls are painted dark grey, carpet is a light. though there is a positive in all this, leaned against the walls and the extra space, there's canvases, blank, half painted and fully completed works. there's her own drawings hung up on the walls in a clustered pile, these papers will soon become the ground works for her future graphic novel series - blueprints. there's a white desk in the far corner, the surface stained with multi colours of paints, sketches scratched into the wood with a knife ( rough, but she really loves those ) - it looks more like an art room than an actual bedroom.
she has two piles that move around a lot ; a comic book, book and a record pile, they're a little frayed in places, but she loves them. they're one of the few ways where she spends her money on items deemed luxury ( including art supplies in this.) her comics are mostly filled with horror concepts, though does have subjects in fantasy - as for regular books - while there is fiction, it's mostly non fiction : history based around greece, egypt, china - all that good fun, its a growing pile depending on what she feels like learning about. there is a possibility where if you walk in there, you're going to kick a book across the room.
there's a blue case under her desk that she sometimes uses it to up her feet up, inside is records ; not a lot, just focusing on her most favourite artists ; NWA, D12, fugees, 2pac, biggie, cypress hill, guns and roses are the ones that i feel like she really focuses on. where's her record player ? how about you mind your own business ( she doesn't own one:( )
at this point, she's still getting over the trauma of living on the streets - her apartment really represents that. she finds her place really overwhelming and even subconsciously is waiting for the whole place to get ripped from her, getting comfortable isn't something she's good at - but she really, really tries because she wants to have somewhat of a normal life moving forward, which is why she makes it safe in the way she knows best ; littering the space with art.
CANON 3 :
finally my rich girl has realized her worth and realized she doesn't need to live in a hobble… she has treated herself to an alaskan king bed, cushioned white frame, even has those curtains that hang at the top with a rich royal blue - has a mix of colours available for them - bed is covered in decorative pillows, vintage looking ones to modern ones that are different shades of blue, grey and purples - her duvet covers can be very traditional at times, sheets that are very reminisce of a rich girl in the 18/1900s - she really leaned into her vintage heart when it comes to her bed, it's very comfortable, fluffy, jump on it and its like falling on a cloud; don't lay in her bed you wont ever want to leave.
dark wooden flooring with a fluffy white rug that spans across the floor, a gas fire on the right side of the room, the room is large, open, and very bright - its a clear representation of her headspace and how much she's grown.
she has some white shelves, filled with photos of vacations, new friends made, as well as awards that she's gained during this time - antiques, too ; authentic greek and egyptian pottery that she bought, sculptures from her favourite artists through the years, gifts gained from work partners - look on the bottom and you see some out of place cthulhu statue with some horror stuff from in the middle of this, truly living her best life.
coraline also absolutely has replicas of greek paintings, and while she can't hang them all up in her bedroom ; she has one wall where she puts a new painting up every month ( or week, depending on her mood ) - you could walk in and see the painting the fall of phaeton, the next time you do you'll see the lament for icarus - it really is a lucky dip.
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Prompt idea: Holiday celebration get horrendously fucked (birthday, Christmas, Halloween, Passover, doesn’t matter really, dealers choice) and one of them has to comfort the other and help them through a meltdown over their favorite day getting fucked up
Happy birthday and hopefully your day isn’t as bad as you would make Ed and Stede’s!
I wasn't able to get this one edited and posted on my birthday, but it's still a precious prompt and I loved writing for it!! Here's the story of The Time That Stede Fucked Up Passover.
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"The eleventh plague," Stede said glumly as he watched Ed open a kitchen window to air out some of the smoke, "easily misread cooking directions."
"Well, babe," Ed said over his shoulder, "I'm not sure why you thought that the oven needed to be set to 450 for brisket -"
"I misread the package, Ed," Stede snapped, trying to hide the wobble in his voice.
"Aww, no, that came out wrong." Ed, who had been poking at the smoking, thoroughly blackened brisket sitting on the stovetop to salvage for any edible parts, held out a hand for Stede to take.
Stede pretended he didn't see, looking down at his lap.
It was Stede's first Passover with Ed, and he knew it was a big deal. Ed's mama was coming over for the seder, and Stede had been trying so fucking hard to get it all right. Passover was Ed's favorite holiday! He couldn't fuck it up!
So he did all his research. He practiced reading the haggadah, the text read at the seder - even though Ed would be doing most of the reading, he wanted to be able to pronounce the prayers without asking for help and mark spots where he could raise interesting discussion or questions and (hopefully) impress Ed's mom. He'd figured out voices to use for all of Ed's plague-themed finger puppets to add a bit of levity, triple-checked what they needed for the seder plate, and he'd stressed over making sure dinner was perfect.
When the local synagogue had released sign-ups for pre-made brisket packs, of course he'd signed them up. He wasn't the greatest cook, and neither was Ed, so he figured that having the main course squared away would take a load off his mind and allow him to focus on getting the table set and ready while Ed prepared the roasted sweet potatoes, matzo ball soup, and an extra-big helping of charoset.
And now he'd fucked up his one contribution to dinner, and he hadn't even gotten the table ready, and he'd forgotten to put the wine in the fridge to chill, all because he couldn't even read the package -
"Stede, babe, you need to breathe."
Stede jerked his eyes open. He didn't even remember closing them, but now Ed was kneeling in front of him at the table. He put a gentle, calming hand on Stede's thigh, looking up at him with a small smile.
"I'm so, so sorry, Ed," Stede sighed, scrubbing at his eyes before his tears could fall. "I've ruined everything - I'm the worst boyfriend ever."
"Hey, don't talk about my boyfriend that way," Ed pretended to grumble. "You just misread the instructions. Could've happened to anyone, and you've never made brisket before, have you?"
"No," Stede admitted.
"There ya go," Ed said easily. "You do need to wear your reading glasses more often, though. Not even just saying that because I think they're hot."
"Ed," Stede snorted. "Was any of it edible?"
"Stede," Ed said solemnly, "that thing is burnt to a sizzle. It's basically a rock. It's an ex-brisket."
"Great," Stede sighed. "Your mom's going to hate me."
"She's gonna love you," Ed promised. "Wanna know how I know?"
Stede just pursed his lips.
"Because you tried," Ed said. "You tried so fucking hard."
"That doesn't change the fact that our main course is burnt beyond recognition, Ed."
"C'mon, man, get it straight." Ed rubbed a soothing little circle over Stede's kneecap. "If you think my mama is showing up here without more food than any of us can eat, you're in for a surprise."
Well. That made it a bit better.
"I'm just sorry," Stede said, his shoulders hunching inward with his guilt. "I wanted this to be the best Passover you've ever had -"
"It will be," Ed said, immediately. "Because you're here. And I love you."
"I love you, too." Stede cupped Ed's cheek in his hand, his heart swelling at the way Ed tilted his face into the contact. "Promise you're not mad?"
"Not a bit," Ed said.
Stede leaned in to kiss him, but they pulled apart when they heard a car pull into the driveway.
"The eleventh plague," Ed said cheekily, giving Stede a quick kiss on his way up. "Meeting your boyfriend's mom."
Stede shivered.
"C'mon, babe, she'll love you!" One last kiss, and Ed darted out to meet his mama before she had a chance to start trying to carry things in herself.
Stede took a deep breath, made sure no one could see him for just long enough to flip off the stupid brisket on the stove, and then he ran out to join them.
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a-lovers-remorse · 3 years
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What Comes After The End Of The World
Part 1
Dangerous Fellows x OC (Carmafe). A bit of a fix-it fic because I wasn't happy with the in-game MC; she is too nice for my personal taste along with other problems I had with the game. The MC of the Dangerous fellows games has been made into a separate character for the purposes of this fic and I've named her Macey.
Disclaimer: If you like Lawrence, this fic is NOT for you. I have beef with this boy and it's about to show through.
“I’m lost, I’m lost, I’m melting and I’m stupid and I’m lost” I mumble to myself, trekking along the main road. It was so isolated I was confident my singing wouldn’t draw any zombies; I wasn’t even crouched anymore. I swung my bow around, just careful to not smash it against anything. “I just HAD to go scavenging tonight. I was just SOOOO dang tired yesterday when it was 10 degrees cooler, taking 3 whole naps. Ugh,” irritated with my own inconvenience I stopped to take a look around. Not a single person in sight, living or otherwise. I stripped off my jacket, tying it around my waist, taking a second to add more cupcake fragrance into my face mask. The reek of decaying corpses still lingered, no matter how long ago they’d died or left. My fingers brushed against my phone when  I put the oil back into my bag, but I decided against it, that type of arrogance would be guaranteed to ask for trouble. I was standing on a street that divided residential areas from the stores. I was in plain sight, but there hadn’t been any noticeable movement in this area for a while.
"Where the fuck is that school?“ I asked the wind, regretting that I’d chosen to leave the maps back home. "It’s supposed to house middle schoolers AND high schoolers and I CAN’T FIND IT!?” I resist the urge to let out a louder yell. I take another look around, trying to remember the landmarks. A corner deli seemed particularly promising, so after I grabbed another bottle of water and some gum I continued down the road. The unmistakable groans of the dead met me 3 blocks later.
My bow came up as I fell into a crouching position, but I hadn’t been spotted. I crept closer, counting 15 zombies milling around a tall metal gate that seemed promising. Of course, they would linger in front of the one building I need to get into, why wouldn’t they? Why doesn’t everyone come out we’ll have a fucking rave. The sun had started to set, and the shadows made it difficult to discern if there were more zombies. But seriously, why does it seem like every zombie in the neighborhood conjugated here?  I debated killing them all, but I wouldn’t have enough time to burn all of them before nightfall. As isolated as this place seems, I don’t want to run into anyone. I start a slow circle around the building, giving myself plenty of distance from the moving stink bombs. The gate would have been the easiest way but it would have drawn even more undead here and I wasn’t about to fight them on a new moon night again.
I found a patch along the left side of the wall; clear of any shrubbery that could make noise and slightly ruined so I wouldn’t have to reach as high to grab the top of the wall.
Running start, don’t lead with your chest.
I strap the bow onto my back and take a few steps back. Running start, push into the wall, step, grab. YES! I pull myself up, smug as all get out before I remembered I actually had to get down. There weren’t any zombies in the school courtyard, so I decided to take a hit. I stood on the ledge, took my bow in my hand, ran forward a few feet and then threw myself to the side. I stifle a groan on impact, the blunt end of something jabbing itself into my side. I stood up and shook off the shock, making sure none of my arrows had fallen out of my quiver. I took a second to look over the conjoined buildings. The one on the right has taller doors, probably the high school. They’re statistically more likely to have what I need. I stalk towards the building, looking over the windows blocked with wooden panels. Someone lives here. Or at least, they did at some point. After some small debate, I switch out my bow for a hand knife and push into the school. I was in some random hallway, with no direction, so I just started walking. One peek through cracked doors showed regular classrooms. This isn’t the science wing. I passed by a smaller hallway that had large double doors on one end and a classroom that was boarded up. But nothing of interest to me so I kept on. This place would be a nightmare to safeguard. After sweeping through one floor I headed upstairs, noting how peculiar the stair design was. There’s a gap between the staircase above and below narrowing down until they met at a ledge on the next level. Thank goodness I have my mask on, this dust would have-
"What the hell!?“ fuck fuck fuck I zoned out again!  I jumped up on the ledge pulling out my bow and arrows in one smooth motion. My eyes fell to the dude that had spoken. A redhead with a face mask and school uniform stood beside a classroom door, bewildered; but he put his hands up when he saw my bow.
"Who are you!” I demanded.
"I think we should be asking you that,“ a brunette with glasses stepped out of the classroom, blocking my view of the redhead. Other people started stepping out of the classroom, easily outnumbering me. Well, fuck me then.
"I’m Lawrence, please put the bow down and we can talk. We’re not zombies; we’re not going to hurt you,” The brunette spoke again with a smile, but there was an unmistakable coldness in his eyes. I refused to budge, taking a quick headcount. 4 more males and 5 females had stepped out. A blonde was clinging on to the redhead, a dude with a red jacket to her other side. A tall brunette with long hair hung back with short bobbed brunette while the other 5 formed a wall between the front half and the back half of the group. Three boys, tall with a baseball bat, platinum hair in a blue hoodie and shorter blonde with a face mask, and 2 girls, one with bright orange hair and a blue jacket, the other a brunette with gorgeous blue eyes in a white tee and sweats.
"Is this all of you?“ I ask, counting one more time. 11. They’re all kids.
"Yes,” the platinum blonde boy interjects. I pause for a second, before putting my arrow down and sitting on the ledge as a sign of good faith. “Are you bit?”
"No, and I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to jump the gun like that. Not too many survivors out there ya know,“ I talk slowly, trying to diffuse the tension I created.
"What are you doing here? How did you even get in?” The original redhead asks, despite the clinging blonde trying to shush him.
"I was just doing a supply run, there was a lower wall that I jumped. I thought-“
"We don’t have any food so just go!” The blonde that was clinging to the school uniform redhead spoke up, seemingly emboldened now that my bow wasn’t in my hands.
"I wasn’t looking for food I was-“
"Look she’s bleeding! She did get bit!” The blonde screamed, pointing at me in horror. Everyone took a step back and I looked down, blood was, in fact, seeping through my jeans.
"No, when I jumped the wall-“
"GET OUT! SHE COULD BE INFECTED!”
"Can someone get this toddler back into her fucking crib so I can talk to the adults here?“ I snarled, glaring at the blonde.
"You-!”
"Zion, take her back into the classroom" Lawrence spoke up again; he seems to be their leader. The redhead I’d threatened dragged the girl into the classroom they’d walked out of, 1-c. We could hear her muffled protests but not being able to see her had calmed me down some.
"As I was saying, I don’t need food, I was looking for chemicals. Does this school have a science hall?“ I say again, looking directly at their leader. ” I can give you all the food in my bag, it could probably last you guys a couple of days.“ The remaining kids looked at each other before Lawrence nodded into the classroom.
"Could you give us a minute to discuss? Ethan keep an eye on her,” Lawrence walked back in with the other kids, only the tall one with a baseball bat, Ethan, staying outside with me. I nodded to him, but he didn’t reply so I sat there, swinging my legs. I could hear vaguely hear the sounds of a girl arguing, but I didn’t really care. You just had to stick your nose where it didn’t belong. The classroom door opens and the boy with platinum hair sticks his head out.
"Are you by yourself?“ I nod immediately. ”..Okay. Leave the food in the classroom and we’ll take you to the science hall.“ I walk into 1-c, Ethan trailing in behind me. The windows on the far side of the room are cracked, a pile of 6 desks were joined into one big table in the center of the room.
"Don’t mind Scarlett, she gets scared easily,” platinum blonde says, nodding to the blond girl glaring at me from the corner. I go to the tables and take out my 2 weeks supply of food; granola bars, cans of beans, ravioli, and fruit in syrup, bags of chips and dried jerky.
"Wow, where did you find all of this!“ The redhead girl asks, leaning over to inspect the can of peaches.
"I’ve had it for a while,” I shrug, throwing one last bag of twinkies on to the pile and tipping my bag upside down to emphasize it’s emptiness, making Ethan stall now.
“Is this really fine?” he asks, staring intenly at my bag, as if wondering if I hid more food. “This is everything you have.”
“Hm? Oh yeah, it’s fine,” I wave him off, tucking back in the foam padding around the edges. “I’m bunkering down near here, the rest of my food is there; I’ll be fine.” He shrugs, accepting my answer and taking a step back.
"You’ll have to leave your bow and arrows too,“ Lawrence jumps in, "safety measures. You understand.” Now I definitely hesitated. I looked around, everyone seeming a bit more sinister now. No, they’re just kids, it’ll be okay. As long as they don’t all try to jump me at once it’ll be okay. Platinum smiles at me, and I put my weapons down. I step back into the hall and a group of 6 kids escort me to the science room.
"I’m Harry, by the way,“ the boy with platinum hair introduces himself, trying to ease the tension. "I don’t think I caught your name.”
"Carmafe,“ I answer him. "And I really am sorry about threatening you all, it’s been a while since I’ve run across more survivors. And in such a large group no less.”
"It’s easy to get jumpy out there. But you should probably apologize to Zion before you go, he was the one you directly threatened.“
"Hey Carmafe,” the girl with gorgeous blues eyes spoke up. “I’m Macey. How did you hurt your leg?”
"I jumped off the wall because I didn’t have a better plan to get down; I hadn’t even noticed I was bleeding.“ I sigh, slowly becoming more aware of the pain in my shin and ankle. "I think I have some band-aids though, I’ll be fine.”
We made it to the science hall, and I explore every inch of the classroom as my entourage watches me. Drawers full of beakers, flasks, and constables. Bunsen burners, goggles, test tubes, and tongs. All wrong. I made it to the back of the room, but a white door wouldn’t budge.
"Can I try to get it open?“ I ask. They all turn to Lawrence who nods. I tug on the door twice for good measure.
"I think we have a crowbar somewhere if-” Harry was cut off by the sound of splintering wood. My kick had landed perfectly and my foot went right through the door, all the way up to my lower thigh.
"These doors tend to be pretty weak, “ I comment to no one in particular, trying to not make it noticeable that I was struggling to yank my leg out. I finally managed to pull it out, ignoring the pain as the wood cut into my skin. I pretended not to hear the gasps behind me as I pull down my pants leg to hide the scratches and cuts now running all the way up my leg.
"Are you ok?” Harry jogs up to me, trying to bend down to look at my leg but I step back.
"I’ll be fine, it looks worse than it is. But do you think you could help me pull these bottles out?“ I nodded to the open closet, stacked high with dark brown glass bottles. Harry, Macey and the girl with bobbed hair, Sue, helped me bring down all of the bottles and line them up across 3 tabletops. Once they were all down, I started inspecting them slowly.
"What exactly are you looking for?” Macey asks, grabbing the bottle closest to her.
"I have a thing for science", I lift each bottle and move it around until I get enough light to be able to read the names. Perchloroethylene, urease, thiourea. No, no and no.
“ I was trying to think of a long term survival plan and something told me I should give chemistry a try.” Yes, keep it vague. “There was something I wanted to try, but the ingredients aren’t usually found in common household cleaning supplies.” I sigh in frustration. Barium Carbonate,  Gibberellic Acid, Methyl Violet, Zinc Acetate. No no these are all wrong.
“I’m going to be honest, I’m not entirely sure what chemicals I’m looking for. I thought I’d get a better idea for my plan when I actually had things in front of me. This is what I get for not planning things better.” I glance back at Lawrence, who’d been following my every move from his seated position on a table, “are you positive I can take these?”
"Help yourself.“
I go over the bottles again slowly, picking out the 6 molar acetic acid, sodium bifluroide, bromoform, perchloric acid, Ammonium Perchlorate, solid magnesium, and sodium ferricyanide. I should have brought my duffel bag, I don’t really want to make a second trip, but I can’t exactly take everything.
"I think this is it,” I adjust my bag  on to my back and smile at them. “thank you for your help”
"Wait, we should bandage your leg before you go!“ Harry walks back into the classroom, a small first aid kit in hands. I shake my head and step back from him.
"That’s really nice but you guys should save your supplies for your group. Anyways I want to get going so I don’t get caught out in the dar-” I point to the window, but finally understand why I was having such a hard time reading the glass bottles. The sun had just set, and I hadn’t even noticed. I let out a frustrated hum that didn’t go unnoticed.
"It wouldn’t be right for you to walk back in the dark, would you consider staying the night here?“ Lawrence offers a helping hand, both literally and figuratively. Reasonably, I hesitate. But there isn’t an immediate protest from the group present, and I wasn’t sure I could make the trek back in the dark. Even with the noise-canceling precautions I’d taken with my bags, I wouldn’t be able to muffle the sound of the banging glass if I tried or needed to sprint.
"You could keep your arrows with you,” Harry offers.
"Not a guarantee but it could be arranged,“ Lawrence amends stepping forward in a motion that almost suggests handing over my backpack. As much as I wanted to turn it down, he had a point, I couldn’t make it back with the backpack.
"If you all will allow it,” I give a small bow, “ I would appreciate and be indebted to you for being housed here for the night.” I thought I could hear someone snicker, but I didn’t try to pinpoint who. A hand was placed on my shoulder and I suppressed a flinch.
“You can be grateful after we convince everyone else to let you stay, we do all contribute to big decisions,” Lawrence laughs, leading us like ducklings in a row, back downstairs.
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liron-ao3 · 3 years
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It's not that Dean doesn't like Castiel. It is more of an I-swear-on-my-mother's-grave-I'll-kill-him kinda relationship. Because the thing is, Castiel set up Dean's little brother Sam and his stepsister Rowena and it isn't that Dean could say it out loud, but he is worried. To say the least.
Rowena has a power over Sam that makes Dean's stomach flip. She conjures sappy smiles on Sam's face and makes him follow her like a love-drunk puppy. She's a witch, Dean is convinced, but he tries hard not to mention that in Sammy's orbit. He heard the whole that's-a-misogynistic-term speech when Sam was dating that Ruby chick and Dean knows that his brother would only cling closer to the Scot if he knew that Dean thinks that his fiancée is straight from hell.
So Dean grits his teeth, swallows his tongue, and plays nice around her, even going as far as agreeing to be his brother's best man. He will still be there when Sam comes running with his heart broken and with his tail between his legs.
Castiel, on the other hand? That man he can hate in abundance. Not that he has ever met him, but honestly, he has to be Lucifer himself if he thinks their siblings to be a good match.
Dean can picture him vividly—a leer on his face, sweet-talking people into feeling safe and then smiting them with the snap of his fingers. That man has to be evil incarnate and Dean won't pussyfoot around him. No way!
***
"Play nice," Bobby grumbles when they enter the venue for the rehearsal dinner.
"I am nice," Dean hisses back.
"Sure you are," his surrogate father says and makes a beeline for Ellen and Jo on the other side of the room.
Dean shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and scans the room for the man he is sure he will recognise immediately. But no one really sticks out from the crowd that is well-dressed and mostly speaking in different kinds of British accents. Family of the bride, obviously.
Dean feels a little underdressed until he spots a man in an ill-fitting suit, draped into a trenchcoat. He is standing next to a redheaded, slim woman, who Dean would probably try to get on the backseat of his Impala if he wasn't set on finding that Castiel guy, sweet talk him today and wreck him tomorrow. Unless Sam does the wise thing and cancels the wedding, which seems less and less likely by the minute. Rowena's spell seems to become stronger day by day. Dean hardly recognises his ever-worrying, self-loathing brother anymore, with all the grinning that goes on on his face.
Maybe Dean is an asshole, but he has pulled Sam from the edge too many times to count. This is too good to be true. Happiness doesn't find a Winchester. Not in his experience.
Dean walks to the other side from where the redhead smiled over to him. Maybe she can point him to the object of his hate. She tilts her head to the side when he comes closer.
"You must be Dean," she says, stretching out her hand. Dean is taken aback by her knowledge.
"How did you…?"
She shrugs. "I know nearly everyone in this room. And the only two men Sam ever mentioned were his brother and Bobby who I assume is the fella over there."
Dean looks in the direction she is nodding to. "Yeah. Sam always had more female friends."
"I think that's what Rowena likes about him. He's sensible."
Dean huffs. "Yeah, I bet she likes that he's soft for her."
"He makes her very happy," the man says and his voice does things to Dean's insides he doesn't want to nurse right now. He needs to focus on his anger. Arousal isn't helpful.
"If you say so," Dean grunts.
Anna furrows her brow. "Are you okay, Dean?" she asks concerned.
"Yeah, just not really convinced about this whole wedding business. Don't you think it's too fast?"
The man tilts his head to the side and Dean starts seeing the family resemblance. "I think that they complement each other very well. I would have expected Sam's best man to see that, too."
Dean can't really argue with that. "I don't know her well enough to judge. I just know that my brother is a different person now."
"And you don't like that?" the woman asks. Hell, Dean doesn't even know their names and spills all the beans, probably making an ass of himself.
"He's my brother. I know him better than anyone and this—" He gestures in the engaged couple's direction. "This isn't the man I raised."
Two pairs of eyes move to the tall men and back to Dean.
"You mean a happy man?" the woman asks.
"No. I mean…" Dean should have kept his mouth shut. They don't know Sam, his dark thoughts, the forced smiles, the brave face. Dean knows it all or at least well enough to know that the chuckling man on the other side of the room is a stranger to him. Okay, maybe Dean is a bit overdramatic. He knows Sam laughing, pulling pranks. But life had been shitty to both of them and the only people they could always rely on were the two of them.
Yes, their circles have widened over time, with Jody and the girls, Charlie and Dorothy. Still, happiness isn't really part of their lives. They might get glimpses of it, but…
"You mean what? That our sister isn't good enough for your big shot lawyer brother?" the man asks.
Dean freezes. He sometimes forgets that Sam isn't little Sammy anymore. That he's one step away from leaving his old life behind, and with it his big brother, probably.
Dean scans the people in the room, mainly the bride's family and he swallows hard. Yes, he's the odd one out. He only owns a single suit, so he couldn't wear it tonight. Is it that? Is he jealous? Or anxious to lose Sam?
He looks back at the bride and groom. Sam presses a kiss into Rowena's hair. From afar, they are a cute couple with the difference in height and the unconventional age gap.
Dean bites the inside of his cheek and tries to unclench his fists. It isn't working.
"She's way out of his league," he hears himself say, not knowing where this is even coming from.
"That's what you said, Anna, the first time you met Sam," the man chuckles.
Anna? Oh, that's the future sister-in-law Sam raved about and Dean thinks he wants to set him up with. Well, that probably flew out of the window a minute ago.
"I didn't, Castiel. I said I was surprised that she went for someone younger. That's all."
Dean's eyes shoot up. That's the man? The man, who he built up as the bogeyman who would get familiar with his fist? A fucking baby in a trenchcoat?
The whole house of cards that Dean has built up over weeks is threatening to collapse. Dean's throat tightens and he pops a button on his polo shirt, but to no avail. He meets Castiel's eyes for a moment, the other man squinting at him as if he could look deep into his soul.
"Are you okay, Dean?" he asks and sounds concerned.
"Yeah. Just need some air," Dean all but spits and heads for the door.
He props himself up on the roof terrace's balustrade and tries to sort through all his contradicting feelings. He hates it. It's all him. His fear to be left behind, for the only constant in his life to leave, like everybody else who has ever meant something to him. He's jealous and the realisation hits him hard.
Yes, he doesn't know Rowena, but Sam does. Well enough to want to marry her. Sam, who thought he was too toxic for a real relationship. Dean always told him that this was bullshit. And now that his little brother is finally listening, Dean acts like a jaundiced ex? Fuck!
"There you are," a too-familiar voice comes from behind. "I thought you left me hanging, man."
Dean chuckles. "I have to lead the bride to the altar, right?" He ruffles Sam's hair. His brother glares at him, but without heat.
"Wanna come in? I'd like to introduce you to Rowena's best man."
"Who's that?"
"Castiel."
Dean's eyes sink to the floor. Of course, he is. "Already met him."
Sam raises an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you already snubbed him."
"Nah. I wouldn't embarrass you in front of your new family." It's enough that Dean embarrassed himself.
"Most of them are kind people," Sam says carefully. "And after tomorrow, Rowena is your family, too."
Dean works his jaw. It's a bit difficult to look at Sam, now that he realised that he's never given his fiancée a real chance.
"You'll be here in California, and I'll be back in Kansas. We'll be lucky if we see each other on Christmas."
Sam squeezes his shoulder. "You could move here, Dean."
The older brother shakes his head. "I don't belong here, Sammy." Another squeeze. "And I can't afford to take off so much to drive over." And soon you'll be too busy to fly back to where everything feels small and like past, he adds in his head. He puts on a smile nonetheless.
"Samuel?" Rowena calls from the entrance. "Dinner starts in five."
Sam smiles over to his future bride. "I just need a minute, mo ghràdh."
"Mo what?"
"It's Scottish Gaelic for 'my love'."
Dean raises an eyebrow and chuckles. "You really got it bad, huh?"
"I wouldn't marry her if I didn't."
Dean pats his back. "I'm happy for you man." He's surprised that he means it.
***
Dinner goes fine and Dean has a nice conversation with Anna, who is seated next to him. Luckily, she's not of the resentful kind. Still, Dean is feeling out of place. Their found family is so much smaller than Rowena's real one with all the siblings and cousins from both sides of the pond. And this is only the rehearsal.
As soon as dinner is done, Dean excuses himself and flees to the hotel. A real one that Sam was kind enough to pay. It makes Dean feel only smaller and not good enough.
He takes a shower and walks out on the balcony, just a towel slung around his waist. He can hear the waves hitting the beach nearby and seabirds screeching. He gets why Sam moved here, why he won't come back. It still stings.
Dean did everything in his power to get him so far and he can't bring himself to regret it. But he's still angry. Maybe he is anger, plain and simple. He's been angry since his mother died and his father gave a shit about giving his sons a home. This anger will probably never go away. It's good that Sam found happiness, Dean muses. At least one of them should.
There's movement on the balcony next door and despite the separation wall, Dean can see the trenchcoat clad arms propped up on the railing. What are the odds?
"Castiel?"
There is a long pause and then comes, "Dean?" This gravelly voice doesn't fail to move him. If Dean didn't decide to scratch the term 'witch' for his future sister-in-law, he would wonder if her stepbrother might be a witcher, too.
"Yeah. Not into parties?"
There is another pause, probably filled with a head shake Dean can't see. "I don't like crowds of people. And my family is, well, my family. I love them, but it's complicated."
"I get it," Dean says, although he probably doesn't.
"You seem to have cooled down a little," Castiel states matter-of-factly.
"Was it so obvious?"
Castiel laughs and the sound vibrates into Dean's heart, churning it in delicious ways. "You looked as if you were out to kill someone."
Dean chuckles. "I kinda was."
"Why? And who?"
Dean swallows hard. What he would give for a beer right now, but he had way too much of that red wine already. Maybe that's why he answers, "You." There is a long moment of surprise that Castiel doesn't seem inclined to break, so Dean adds, "I built up this story in my head that Rowena bewitched Sam and you were at fault because you brought them together."
"And now?"
Dean shrugs his shoulders. "I only want Sammy to be happy."
Castiel hums on the other side of the separation. "Why are you sounding so sad then?"
A flare of anger rises in Dean's chest. The man doesn't know him. What gives him the right to state something like this?
"Blow me, Cass!" he grinds out. That guy is getting under his skin. Why, he doesn't know. Maybe because he's right.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
The retort comes quick like a shot and Dean is struck speechless for a way too long moment. Castiel starts chuckling.
"You're an asshole!" Dean grumbles.
"An asshole who gives good head, though," Castiel says smugly.
Dean groans. No, he won't think of these sinful lips wrapped around his cock. No way, José.
"Is that an offer?" his mouth asks without his consent.
"I'm not a one-off kind of guy, Dean."
Dean wishes he wouldn't have to lie if he said he wasn't either. Is there an expiration date for that stamp if you haven't got laid for more than a year? Probably not.
The silence stretches into an eternity until Castiel quietly says, "Good night," leaving Dean alone in the pale moonlight.
***
Rowena looks beautiful and Sam smart. Dean manages to get through the whole wedding ceremony and his best man speech without a single glimmer of jealousy. Bobby looks at him approvingly and Ellen whispers into his ear that his mum would have been so proud of him.
Still, Dean finds himself on the balcony once again. His thoughts need space to swirl around him. There's a lot to process on this fine day—his brotherly/parent-like love, his own loneliness in a room full of people, the strange stares that Castiel and he have been sharing the whole day…
He presses the palms of his hands against his eyes, hoping to force back the sting of tears building up in them. A warm hand lands on his shoulder, startling him. "You've done well."
Dean chuckles without mirth. "Can't remember when anyone said something like this about me." He bites his lip, hard. Why did he say that? To a complete stranger nonetheless. Castiel doesn't comment on it, though, and Dean sighs in relief.
The music coming from the party changes to something slow and Castiel asks, "May I have the next dance?"
Dean turns his head and stares at the outstretched hand for a very long moment. He has never danced with a man before. Not without a beer bottle in his hand and for sure not a slow dance. But he feels a pull to this man, who he hated with all his guts just a day ago. A man with kind eyes, a shy smile, and a patience Dean isn't used to.
He takes the offered hand and Castiel's smile grows wider, just like Dean's heart. Castiel pulls him slowly into his arms, lets him settle against him, and rewards Dean's head leant against his own with a gentle brush over his back.
Dean shivers at the tender touch and bites the inside of his cheek in a last attempt to keep back the tears welling up in his eyes.
"It's okay," Castiel says. "Let go. No one will see it."
And Dean does. In the arms of a stranger under the Californian moon. He doesn't shake off the tender hand carding through his hair, or the strong arms holding him upwards. He lets out the sobs he's been holding and allows Castiel to brush away his tears before their lips meet in a gentle kiss. He smiles at Castiel bashfully afterwards.
"It's okay," Castiel repeats.
Dean chuckles. "Is it? Crying like a baby in a stranger's arms?"
"Crying like the big brother, who raised a wonderful man and has to let him go to live his own life. Crying like a lonely man, who hasn't been touched intimately for ages."
Dean furrows his brow. "How?"
Castiel smiles at him with so much warmth that Dean feels like welling up again.
"Sam loves you. He talks about you all the time. It felt like I knew you before we even met. And the rest? Let's say, kindred souls recognise each other."
Dean huffs a laugh. "You're good, man."
Castiel smirks at him. "And you're a good man, Dean Winchester," he says and leans in for another kiss.
Maybe, Dean muses, Castiel is magical after all.
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Text
Lights
Summary: They meet on a bus, neither of them knowing where they're going, both hiding something. An unlikely friendship forms and protecting each other has never been more important.
Warnings: explicit content, sex trafficking, murder
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He gazed out the window as the bus pulled out of the station. He wasn't exactly sure where it was going, flashes of what he'd just done playing in his head. He closed his eyes, wishing the sounds would go away, begging the images plaguing his mind to leave. 
"Hi," a sweet voice startled him. He turned his head to see a girl leaning over the empty seat, a shy smile on her face. "Everywhere else is full, could I sit?" 
He examines her. She's got beautiful black curls that fall to just above her shoulders, soft brown skin and big bright brown eyes. He moves his bag, setting it on the floor at his feet. 
"Sure." His voice is thick and deep from not being used. She grinned, sitting down next to him. She held out her hand. 
"I'm Naya." He took her hand and shook it. Her skin was smooth and soft, her fingers thin and nimble. 
"I'm Harry." He replied quietly. He dropped her hand and let his head fall back against the head rest again. 
"Not much of a talker?" He opened one eye and looked at her. She was smiling at him. 
"Depends on the topic love." 
"Are you from England?"
"Originally." 
"I like your accent." Harry turned his head, the screams and images in his mind getting louder with every passing moment. 
"Does this conversation have a purpose?" He immediately regrets his tone, seeing the embarrassment and hurt on her face. He sighs, running his hand through his hair. "I'm sorry I just….I don't feel well." She smiled kindly at him, shaking her head. 
"Don't worry about it. I'll let you rest." She pulled out some headphones and what appeared to be a sketchbook. Harry watched her for a moment as she settled back in, losing herself in what she was doing. He watched her draw lines and shade with charcoal, brow furrowed and tongue pressed against her top lip. It was cute. 
He closed his eyes, finally falling into a fitful sleep. 
Naya pulled out one of her headphones and looked over. Harry was whimpering, twitching in his seat. She watched him for a moment, unsure if she should wake him or not, concern growing when he started to bite his bottom lip. 
She'd been relieved when the bus was still there. She didn't know where it was going, only that she would be on it and never looking back. They were driving North now from L.A. 
When the bus stopped at a gas station for a bathroom break she decided to do something nice for him. 
He could see their faces. Feel the fear and the agony as he attacked them. Lashing out, never stopping. He could feel their blood on his hands, hear the screams for mercy that he wouldn't show. They'd never shown him mercy. 
Harry's woken up by the feeling of something nudging him. Slowly he opens his eyes to see the girl, Naya, standing over him with a bottle of water and some crackers. 
"We stopped. I didn't want to wake you but I thought you might be hungry." He takes them wordlessly, surprised by her kindness. 
"Thank you." He says as she sits down. She smiles at him. He notices the sketchbook in her lap again. "You draw?" She nodded. 
"Keeps the demons at bay you know?" Her words struck him, confused him. He looked her up and down. She looked so well put together. 
"What demons could you possibly have chasing you?" He asked, careful to keep his tone light and not too condescending. Her face fell slightly, he could feel her discomfort and wanted to kick himself. 
"We all have demons. Some are just better at hiding them." 
Day Two
The bus pulled into the station early. Naya had somehow fallen asleep on Harry's shoulder at some point and he hadn't bothered to move her. He let her curls tickle his neck and could almost drown in the sweet smell of her shampoo. He took the time to admire her, her long eyelashes and plump pink lips, the freckles that danced lightly just beneath her eyes. She was a beautiful girl and he wondered if in another life they could have been together. 
They had spent the whole second day talking. She shared her headphones, talked about their favorite artists, their favorite movies. Only surface things. She danced around questions about where he was going and he did the same with questions about her past, but the subjects were always dropped quickly.
"Naya." He whispered gently. The girl groaned and shifted closer, draping an arm over his waist. He froze, unsure for a moment, but gently, he placed his hand over hers, rubbing softly. "Naya you have to wake up." She lifted her head. Eyes bleary with sleep. 
"Where are we?" 
"The bus station. We have to get off." He helped her stand, handing her, her bag as they shuffled off the bus and into the dark night. Naya looked at her Ipod, groaning. 
"It's two am. I won't be able to catch another bus for hours." She crossed her arms, the cool night air chilling her. Harry began to shuffle out of his jacket. 
"Here," he offered it to her. 
"No, no I can't-" he draped it over her shoulders, wrapping her up in the warmth of his own body heat. Under the street lights she could see his arms, tattoos littered across one of them. He followed her gaze. 
"I like art." 
"I can see." They stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do or where to go. All Harry knew was that he needed to get as far from L.A as possible. 
"Do you...Do you know where you're headed?" He felt stupid for asking, until he saw the shake of her head. 
"No….No I just….I needed...I needed to get out of L.A." she says quietly, looking at the ground. Harry's eyes stay on her. He wonders, maybe for a moment too long, but let's the thoughts consuming him go. 
"Let's stick together then. If you want? We can look for a hotel." 
"Don't have enough for that." She said. 
"I do. It doesn't have to be fancy. We can get two beds, sleep and figure out our next move tomorrow." He adds as an afterthought. "It's late and I'm not comfortable leaving you out here alone." She sighs, pushing her hair back out of her face. 
"I suppose you want me to give you something in return?" Her voice is hard. Harry shakes his head, unsure of her meaning. 
"No, course not. Consider it payback for the water and crackers." She watches him warily for a moment before nodding slowly. She shoulders her bag once more. 
"No funny stuff."
The motel is sleazy. Hookers hang out outside and drug addicts stand in doorways of occupied rooms. But it was cheap and the room was cozy. Harry set his bag down on one of the beds, before turning to Naya. 
"You want to shower first?" He asked. She sighed gratefully. 
"Yes please." 
"Go ahead. Save me some water yeah?" He called after her as she went in. When he heard the water running he turned on the tv. The first thing that flashed before his eyes was the news, he felt his heart drop to his stomach. 
".....The leader of a sex trafficking ring and his lover were found dead in their home. The suspected murderer is on the loose. If anyone has any information as to the whereabouts of this man please give us a call at Crime Watch." Harry's mouth fell open when a picture of him walking out of the house flashes across the screen, his long hair pulled back into a bun. He shuts the tv off, his face in his hands, heart pounding. He was scared. It probably wouldn't matter that he'd been kidnapped at ten. Stolen from his mother and step father whilst on vacation and forced to do things no child ever should. He had killed them. 
"Shower's ready for you." He jumped, startled by Naya as she left the bathroom. He didn't say anything, just brushed past her and into the bathroom. He locked the door. 
It was the first time he'd seen his face since getting on that bus. His eyes were sunken, dark circles beneath them, his lips chapped and cut from being chewed anxiously, his skin a sickly pale color. He let his hair down, brown locks falling down around his shoulders. He pulled a pair of scissors from his bag and began to cut. 
Chopping away every piece of hair that a john had ever touched. 
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petersmparker · 5 years
Text
Clutch pt 7 (Peter Parker x Reader)
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Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Summary: This is the first time Peter has spoken to you since he’d kissed you in the alley, and he can’t help but be surprised.
Word Count: 1868
A/N: woo! long time coming, huh? thanks to everyone following this series for their patience! we’re one week into the semester and college is already beating me into submission. did someone say “five classes that assign almost 50 pages of reading due for every class”?? Love you all for sticking w me!!! I’ll promise the next one will be out faster- it’s already written for editing!! ps, tumblr literally won’t allow a cut, so I’m sorry to anyone who has to scroll past this
INTRO PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 PART 6 PART 7 PART 8
It's nearly a week until Peter sees you again due to careful avoidance in the halls and an unfortunate streak of petty crime a distance from your usual routes. Even despite the heated kiss that had been exchanged and his decision to share with you the name behind Spider-Man, he worries that it would be unwise to approach you outside of the suit, and the sight of you in school makes his heart do flips that leave him flustered and distracted for an admittedly embarrassing amount of time.
Because of this, the week passes with some anxiety and nerves. Peter isn't exactly sure how to make odds or ends of what had occurred between you. The kiss had been wonderful- something he had dreamed of without the nerve to actually hope for it. Moreover, it was his first. He wondered if it was yours too, or if you minded that it was him.
Well. Not him, he supposed. Spider-Man. He knew that you felt nothing for him personally, but rather his superhero alter ego. You knew very little about him, after all, besides his name. There wasn’t much he’s been able to share. But if you did, Peter wondered, would you see something in him worth caring about?
Five days in, as Peter goes through the motions of dinner, he fights the urge to admit to May what had occurred. To just talk about it, maybe get some advice. The thoughts rattle in his brain nonstop, keeping him in a near-constant state of “What now?”. But he meets her eye over her container of takeout as she digs a piece of broccoli out from under her rice, and can’t seem to do it. Not yet. Not until things are clearer.
As he climbs into bed, he once again replays the kiss in his mind for the millionth time, hoping to hell that his fixation isn’t breeding false hope.
The next day, Peter decides to swing through the street where his fight had occurred to survey the damage repair. It was something he, unfortunately, was becoming accustomed to doing after putting himself on the radar of higher level criminals the year before. The guilt always struck him when he viewed a shattered glass storefront or a torn apart corner of a building. No matter how hard he tried, sometimes the damage control got away from him.
Seeing the closed-up mini mart is just like every other time, and it feels terrible.
Despite that, the guilty thoughts circling Peter's brain come to a dead stop the moment he lays eyes on you again. Overcoming them was nervousness. Embarrassment, even, as he recalled just how much you'd been at the center of his mind for the past week.
You’re walking along the far side of the street, gazing up at what is left of the shop. The busted-out window is covered in several layers of plastic, wood planks, and cardboard. While the police tape is long gone, the word CLOSED is clearly displayed on the front door- as if the mess of a window isn’t enough of a clue.
As Peter watches, you move on toward a telephone pole to read a sheet of paper that had been stapled to it. After a few moments, you tear it off and stride, agitatedly, in the direction of an alley that he knows all too well. For a brief second Peter wants to assume that you’ll just walk past it. Surely you aren't going to return to The Place It Happened and cause the impending conversation to be even more awkward than it was already going to be.
You turned into the alley, and with a sigh, Peter jumps from the roof he had been perched upon to meet you there. He touches down next to you, startling you only slightly when he attempts to casually say hello and reach for the flyer in your hand.
"Jesus," you gasp, yanking the paper away from him in your exasperated surprise, "Part of me had a feeling you'd show up, but I still wasn't prepared. Maybe you need a bell around your neck."
Peter accepts the now-offered flyer and tries not to shiver when you gently brush a finger against his throat for emphasis. "Ah, well," he starts, somewhat awkwardly, "That might ruin the element of surprise a bit, you know? The bad guys would hear me. Mr. Stark might have to fire me. And in this economy?"
"Spider-Man gets paid?" You ask, bewildered.
"God, no," he says quickly, "This suit is payment enough. And he gave me all this nice stuff I couldn't afford, I- I'd never ask for more."
With a gentle laugh, you place a hand on his arm. "You're a good guy. Really. It makes the shit this reporter is spreading all the more ridiculous," you say with finality, gesturing toward the flyer he still hadn't read.
Pictured was Spider-Man in the midst of his criminal sendoff. Shards of glass are flying across the whole photograph, and the look on the man’s face is one of complete terror. The caption reads, SPIDERMAN: HERO? OR PUBLIC MENACE?
"Oh," Peter says, dejectedly, "I can't really argue that, can I?"
In a quick movement, you rip the flyer out of his hands, crumple it, and toss it toward the open lid of the nearest dumpster.
"Spider-Man," you say firmly, commanding him to hear you, to listen, and Peter’s surprised by the seriousness of your tone.
Your voice lowers in volume when you say, "Peter," and take his hands in your own, and he nearly melts.
"Everything you do is for the good of others. You've saved people's lives before. Put your own in danger to do it. That flyer is slander. Nothing more. No one in their right mind will believe this, and you, you damn intelligent boy, you should know better than to buy into it, either."
"The damage-" Peter starts, before you raise a hand over the mouth area of his mask.
"Nothing was destroyed, Peter. The infrastructure is sound. It was a single window. It can be replaced. Lives can't be replaced,” you assert, squeezing your  eyes shut tight when you continue to say, “With the way I was reacting, I- I probably would have been shot. You stopped that from happening.”
"But. . ." he starts, muffled against your hand, before he realizes that he doesn’t know what to say.
Your other hand comes up so that you can gently hold the sides of his face. The touch sends shivers up Peter’s spine. He’s sure you can feel it when it shakes him, and he’d be embarrassed if he weren’t so entranced by your eyes now that they’ve reopened. You stare into the eyes of his mask, almost as if you can actually see his face.
Your voice fills with what Peter thinks is gratitude when you say, "I would be dead if it weren't for you."
A tension-filled moment passes in which he reels, mind flitting to a hundred different places, before it lands on a terrible thought.
"Is that why you were willing to kiss me?" Peter asks, tentatively.
Surprised, your hands fall away for a brief second, before coming back, holding him tighter than before. "No," you say, definitively, "I would have kissed back no matter what you had done. I'm glad you gave me the opportunity."
With your words, the anxiety slips away from Peter all at once. The fear of rejection is sapped out of him, the concern that he had overstepped his boundaries, the sinking feeling he got every time he thought about how he left afterward. He is left with a balloon in his chest inflating too quickly. It fills with happiness, relief, and affection. It takes his breath away.
In his joy, Peter forgets who he is. Not unlike the first time, he surges forward, arms wrapping around your lower back to pull you forward. He leans in to kiss you, and realizes once he meets your mouth with his own that he's Spider-Man. Not Peter. The mask is still on. His embarrassment is horrific, and had you not burst into delighted laughter Peter may have left the country then and there.
"That- that was so dumb," he says, awkwardly, reaching up to hide his face as if the mask didn't always hide his blush, "I'm sorry. That was- oh man."
You pull him down to plant a kiss on his cheek, paying no mind to the mask that has thwarted his attempt at affection. "This is why," you explain, stopping to press a second quick kiss to the mouth of his mask, "You ask if I kissed back because you saved me? I kissed back because in the little time I've known you, you've been funny. And you've been kind, and brave. What more could I have done, besides feel something for you?"
Peter calms slowly, the heat of embarrassment being replaced by a different kind of warmth. A lovely, comfortable one. The urge to tell you who he really is- more than just his name- bowls him over like a tidal wave, potential ramifications be damned. He opens his mouth to do so when a voice at the entrance of the alley says, "Hey, it's Spider-Man!"
Peter turns to see someone who appears to have stumbled upon the alley at the worst possible time. While you hadn't heard them speak, his hearing is far better. You don’t turn until after he’s faced the unwelcome arrival.
Luckily, thinks Peter as he attempts to emote as much disdain as possible without moving, it's just you. Ned waves at the scene you’ve made in the alleyway, unaware of the context of your meeting or the true presence of you in his life.
"Hello there," he adds, when neither of you respond. His tone implies that he's picked up on something, but Peter isn't sure what that is.
"Uh, hello," Peter answers, unsure of what to say.
Ned looks between the two of you slowly. "Is... everything okay?" He asks, seemingly unaware of how odd it is for a civilian to ask if Spider-Man is alright, whether or not he secretly knows him personally.
His eyes flick downward to your hands, still cupping Peter’s jaw.
"Yes!" Peter exclaims, backing away from you, "Everything is fine! In fact, I should probably be going, now that everything is fine."
"Oh?" His best friend questions in response.
"Absolutely," you say slowly, picking up on Peter’s tone.
Ned nods, but his expression clearly states that he is both skeptical and confused. In a moment of eye contact, Peter realizes that you know there's something going on, too. Maybe even that the person who has stumbled upon you and him knows something. The prospect of it is vaguely terrifying. He can feel you continue to stare at him long after he’s turned back to Ned, searching for the words to say, and is sure that you’re searching his body language and the squint of his eyepieces for answers. His posture falls from rigid to defeated.
Peter turns to look back at you, reaching toward you to grab your hand. He stops halfway, thinking better of the action before he’s spoken to Ned. You almost reach out to meet it, but you stop too, centimeters away.
"I have to go," he says, voice laced with apologies and explanations he can’t fully give to you right now, "I'll... I'll see you. I'm sorry."
You smile reassuringly. "See you, Spider-Man."
After a long moment, he turns away. After nodding toward Ned, still watching from the end of the alleyway, he takes a huge leap into the air and swings away. Maybe he’s mistaken, but he’s sure that he can hear Ned offer a quick, I guess I’ll see you later? to you before he runs off.  
Tag list:
@undiadeestos @moonstruckholland @deathofthethrones @souvenirsvisuels
@nedthegay @legendarydazekitten @secretlittlewonders @jackiehollanderr @disgustangg 
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thatfairyfangirl · 5 years
Text
Government Property
So I saw this on facebook and HAD to fic it
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The summer sun beat down on your back yard relentlessly with not so much of a whisp of a cloud to deter the sun's rays. A bead of sweat trickled down your bare back, pooling at the red white and blue bikini strap before continuing to travel down as you emerge from your kitchen of your small Brooklyn home to the humble backyard, carrying a pitcher of lemonade in one hand and iced tea in the other. Once the bright sun hit you, warming you to your soul instantly, you paused, watching your family fawn and swoon over The Avengers who had shown up to your humble 4th of July cookout doubling as Steve's birthday party. With a chuckle you shook your head at how starstruck they all were at the fact the Steve you had been talking about for months was none other than Captain America himself! But even you had to admit there was something perfect about having him of all people manning the grill on Independence Day.
"Sissy! Sissy!" Your young niece called as she spotted her favorite aunt coming with the beverages, rushing to hug you...well, your left leg since that was as high as she could reach. "Did you see?! Hulk is here!" She squealed before toddling off to politely ask him to pick her up.
Something about all this just felt so right to Steve, it was just an average Independance day. No flash. No bad guys to beat. Just food, family and friends...how it should be. "You know, birthday boy, I put all this together so you could actually meet my family." You teased, placing a cup of lemonade at his side and a soft kiss on his cheek.  "I got the burgers, go enjoy yourself."
~ ~ ~ ~
Soon enough the summer heat gave way to a sticky heavy aired evening as you brought out the very patriotic birthday cake covered in a seemingly endless supply of candles….you may have meant to only put 100 on there, but you lost count somewhere along the way and now you were sure there were far too many. But the look on his face as he laughed at the sight made all the time worth it. And with the trite old song sung and slices of red white and blue cake handed out to all, you found yourself nestled into his lap, arms comfortably around each other and his chin resting on your head as you watched the fireworks coming from the Brooklyn bridge. "Thanks, Doll, I couldn't have asked for a better birthday." He whispered softly into your ear, his cool breath mixing with the early July heat to send chills down your spine.
Craning your neck you looked into his eyes with a smirk. "Not over yet." You teased lightly before reaching up to kiss him, leaving him to wonder just what else you had planned. It wasn't until the last of the avengers and your family finally left that he realized what that was.
The next morning he woke with the most blissful grin finding you still wrapped up in his arms. His fingertips traced soft, loving circles over your bare skin, until he found the spots where his love bites got a little too hard, purple and blue splotches dancing over your flesh around those hidden marks only he can see, making you in to his very own personal piece of artwork. "Mmm-morning baby." You purred gently as your eyes fluttered open lazily. "Good birthday?"
"The best." He assured you, planting a firm sweet kiss on your forehead. "Want me to make you some breakfast?"
You rolled over on to his chest, your fingers tracing with barely there touches down the red and purple you left on the side of his jaw and neck. "That would be amazing." You answered, placing soft kisses on the marks you made.
Breakfast, however, seemed to not be in the cards. Steve's phone began chiming relentlessly as he searched for his pants. With an aggravated sigh he nestled it between his shoulder and ear as he began shoving his legs in one by one. "Hey Tony, what's up?" You watched him with concern as his face dropped, the joy you had put there the night before vanishing with whatever Tony was telling him. "I'm still at (Y/N)'s, I can be there in five." Discarding the phone to your bed he looked up to you more sorry than worried about the fight to come. "I'm sorry Doll, looks like we'll have to take a rain check." He didn't tell you what impending doom was pulling him away, and he knew you preferred it that way. You weren't blind to the world, you saw the things out there...things that he was too stubborn or stupid to realize he probably shouldn't be fist fighting…
"Go save the world." You assured him, giving him a kiss goodbye for good luck.
~ ~ ~ ~
"What the Hell happened to you?!" Tony demanded seeing the deep bruising along his friend's neck peeking over his uniform.
"What? What's wrong?" Steve asked finding anything reflective to see what he was talking about, finally spotting the hickeys you left on him the night before. "Oh...I guess (Y/N) is stronger than she thought." He chuckled.
"Well, Cap, I am very disappointed in you." Tony teased as they readied the Quinjet. "Only teens leave hickies where the public can see them."
"You think I did these to myself pal?" He joked back.
"You know … You're right… I'm going to have to have a talk with your girlfriend when we get back." Tony quipped as he sat in the pilot's seat.
~ ~ ~ ~
Saturday spilled into your window draping the sun over you like a warm hug from an old friend. How you loved Saturday morning...and how you could easily sleep through most of it. Later today you knew you'd have shopping to do. But for now nothing was convincing you to leave this bed...until Ironman by Ozzy came blaring from your phone, telling you Tony was calling. With a sleepily annoyed groan you rolled over, grabbing the phone with a "Mmmmhello?"
“Excuse me little miss but you are in big big trouble” Tony scolded on the other end of the line.
“Wha...what time...?” You grumbled with a squint, checking the clock...7am…there must be something wrong. Suddenly with a jolt of adrenaline and worry you sat up, giving Tony your undivided attention. “What’s wrong? Is Steve alright?”
“He’ll live." Tony answered. "But you, however, you have been damaging Avengers property.”
“What on earth are you talking about?” You asked as you hopped out of bed pulling on a pair of pants, readying to check on your boyfriend.
“Those hickies you left...clear as day...Captain America has an image to uphold, you know!”
You froze, realizing the love marks you left must have been visible in his uniform. “Tony, you shit! You woke me up and got me all worried over that?!” You could hear him laughing on the other end of the line. “You better hope to God I don’t march over to that tower and really damage Avenger’s property!” You add as Steve let himself in, pausing at the door, hearing you scream at Tony.
“Doll? Everything alright?” He asked with a worried tone, dropping his key on the kitchen table.
“Yeah...Just Tony being Tony.” You answered with a huff as you emerged from the bedroom to wrap your arms around the love of your life, giving him a soft innocent kiss hello, before turning his head to examine the bruises you made. “So is the world still in ending?”
“Not today.” He answered enveloping you in his strong arms. “Sorry about Tony...I didn’t think he was serious when he said he was going to call you.”
“Oh so you LET him wake me up at 7am...you are so lucky I love you.”
“No arguments there.” He agreed with a chuckle. “How about I take you out for some breakfast to make it up to you?”
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mylutteoheart · 5 years
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Fanfic lutteo: 3 times she wasn't turned on, 1 time she did.
First of all, this is not exactly what you asked for but it’s the closest, I’ll ever get to writing stuff like that. I guess I’m not super comfortable with the topic
Also, this has been in my inbox since 2017 and I’m ashamed that I’ve only finished it now.
Then, after a month, I finally finished it, this break from writing was much needed and it’s still going on. I took a break from my break because I feel less stressed this weekend because I have nothing to do for college.
Side Note: There is no actual real mature content in this so if you don’t like that stuff, you can just keep reading. Although it does involve a lot of kissing. There’s only like a little mature content, I guess.
Three Times They Didn’t… You Know and One Time They Did
Luna and Matteo headed to Luna’s house when both their classes ended as she asked Matteo to help with an essay. When they entered the kitchen, Monica was busy cooking just like always.
“Hey, guys.” her mom said once she noticed them entering.
“Hey, mom. What are you cooking?” Luna asked as she hugged her mom to greet her.
“You’ll see what it is when it’s dinner time.” Monica answered. “Are you staying this time?” she turned to Matteo with a friendly smile.
Matteo looked at Luna for confirmation and she nodded that it was okay. “Sure, I’d love to.”
“So you’re not running away this time.” Luna’s dad joined the conversation when he was filling in some papers at the kitchen table.
Matteo suddenly felt uneasy and thinks back on that day he first got introduced to Luna’s parents as her boyfriend. Yeah, that was definitely awkward.
“Uhm. No, sir.” He didn’t exactly know what to say to that.
Luna noticed this and tries to change the subject: “Matteo is going to help me with my essay so we’ll be in my room if you need us.” she intertwined her fingers with Matteo’s and headed to the stairs, Matteo slowly following behind.
“Don’t forget to leave the door open.” Miguel decided to add but Luna ignored this.
They stepped in her room together and it was a mess, Matteo tried to hold back a laugh when he saw this. Luna tried to clear the mess on her bed and would do the rest later on. She sat on her bed and took all of the supplies she needed to complete her essay. Matteo couldn’t help but watch her as she does this. How she’s always so adorable, he would never know. He sat next to her on the bed and they started working, he tried to correct any possible mistakes when she was typing, trying his best to help her out.
When they were done, she put the laptop on her desk and walked back over to Matteo. “Thanks for helping me out, I just couldn’t get myself to finish this essay.”
Matteo gave her his typical chico fresa smile which automatically meant he might be up to something. “I know the perfect way to thank me.”
Matteo started leaning in closer and Luna knew what he meant and she didn’t stop him. She started getting closer to him as wel and their lips brushed against each other. Not a second later, they both deepened the kiss. They put all their feelings into it, showing they missed each other very much even though it hasn’t been that long.
Before Luna even knew it, she was lying on the bed with Matteo on top of her, his hands went around her waist while her hands wrapped behind his neck. They never parted their lips. Luna wasn’t sure what would happen but all her thoughts went out the window with the way he was kissing her.
“Luna, time for dinner.” her mother called from the kitchen and they sprung apart hearing this. She was blushing and her cheeks reddened even more when she saw Matteo smirking at her reaction.
They tried to look presentable before they went downstairs. Luna was still a little flustered and they both wanted keep their straight faces on. They just hoped it would work.
***
A week went by and nothing similar happened after that one incident. Matteo asked her to come over right after her classes and she was happy to spend some alone time with him. Nobody would be home and she was kind of happy about it. They hate it whenever they can’t see each other for long which happened for the last week. They had different schedules for their college courses and they were training for the next skating competition so they barely had any time for themselves.
They were cuddling on the couch watching some tv, his arm was slung around her shoulder while her head was resting on his chest. She loved the way she felt his heart beat underneath her ear. It was very calming.
They didn’t pay too much attention to the tv after a movie there were watching was ending. Luna tried to focus on the tv in front of her but somehow, she felt his eyes on her. Surprisingly, it didn’t give her a weird feeling, it made her happy. She was curious why he was constantly staring at her so she looked up at him to watch his face.
When she lifted her head and turned around to see him, there was an absent smile on his lips. It’s like he didn’t even know he was smiling at the girl sittting in front of her.
She couldn’t help but blush, there was so much love in the look he gave her, she couldn’t describe the way it made her feel. Eventually, she broke the silence as she felt something in the air, not knowing exactly what it is. “What’s wrong?” she asked self conscious.
“Nothing, I just still can’t believe you’re my girlfriend.” he paused for a moment. “You’re so beautiful. In more ways than one.”
She didn’t know what to say to this so she did the only thing she could think of. She kissed him, to say thanks. He eagerly kissed her back. One hand went up to her cheek and carressed it. Drawing small circles on it absentmindedly. Luna tried to get into a more comfortable position so she ended up straddling him. Their kiss got deeper and more passionate, it was filled with hunger she didn’t know existed. Her arms went up to his neck and she was playing with his hair. This made him pull apart and started kissing her jawline, slowly going down to her neck as he left a trail of kisses. Before it went any further. A phone suddenly started to ring, just like before, they sprung apart by Luna quickly jumping of his lap and trying to regain her composure. Matteo just sighed, irritated by the interruption.
“Hello.” It was Matteo who answered his phone. “Does it have to be now? Can’t it wait? Fine, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” he then hung up.
“I’m sorry, chica delivery but I have to go meet Gastón, it’s apparently important.” he rolled his eyes at this, not believing one word but decided to go anyway. “But this isn’t over.” he stood up and took her hand so she could stand up as well. “I’ll drop you off first.” he said before giving her a peck on the lips.
They went outside together, both saddened by the interruption, but they both weren’t planning on letting this keep happening.
***
The next time, they were hanging out at Jam & Roller, it was closing time and Luna volunteered to help the boys clean up because the boys had somewhere to be and Matteo decided to say with her.
“I’m really happy the Roller Band is taking off.” Luna said after they were done cleaning.
“Yeah, it’s so good that they don’t have time for Roller anymore.” Matteo was a bit irritated since they were supposed to hang out alone instead of closing up Roller. “Don’t get me wrong here, I’m really happy for them but I was kind of wishing to spend some with you since it’s been so long since we have been alone. Especially now that I’m in the middle of recording my first album. We don’t have so much free time anymore.” he started pouting a little and Luna found it adorable.
“I know it sucks but look on the bright side, your career is going to take off soon.” she smiled brightly. This made him smile as well.
“Chica delivery, always the positive one.” Matteo said smiling from ear to ear. “I love you so much.”
They’ve said it so many times before but every time, she can’t stop herself from feeling the butterflies floating around in her stomach whenever he said those three words. “I love you too.”
Matteo didn’t stop smiling after her answer and he leaned in to kiss her, when she noticed this, she stood on her tiptoes and leaned in as well. Soon enough they were kissing, with his hands on her waist and her arms around his neck. His hands went up and down her sides while the kiss deepened and got more passionate. They seemed to forget where they were at the moment. They could only focus on each other. His hands landed on the hem of her shirt eventually. They slipped underneath and he drew small circles on her bare skin. Trying to make her feel comfortable with the close contact.
When he pulled her closer to his body, they suddenly heard the door of the entrance slam and once again, they jumped meters apart from each other. They both felt awkward after seeing who entered the cafeteria.
“Oh, hi guys. Sorry, I just forgot the keys to my house.” Juliana said smiling at them. “Are you finished here?” she asked in a gentle tone.
They both didn’t say a word but nodded. “Alright then, I can lock up if you guys are done, you can go home if you want.”
“Thanks.” was all Luna could say. They walked out of there hand in hand with their fingers entertwined. When they were well enough out of sight, they both started laughing.
“We’ve got stop doing that.” Matteo said after his laughter died down. “I don’t like being interrupted.” he sighed in dissapointment. Luna didn’t stop laughing though, in fact, she started laughing even more. Trying to make the akwardness disappear.
***
It was a free day for both now so they decided to hang out together at Matteo’s house, seeing as there’s no one around most of the time. They were lying on his bed, just trying to relax in each other’s embrace. His arm was wrapped around her waist while her arms were wrapped around his own waist and resting her head on his chest. They looked at nothing in particular, they were just listening to each other’s breathing as if it was the most beautiful sound around.
Slowly, Matteo started falling asleep as her presence always seemed to relax him so much, he could close his eyes easily. Luna took this as an opportunity to stare at him for a while. She smiled down at him, he looked so handsome and peaceful right then and there, she resisted to urge to put her lips to his. Without even realizing what she was doing, her hand went under his shirt and traced his stomach lazily. Of course, he felt the sudden touch of his girlfriend and he opened his eyes slowly. Smiling as he realized that she was watching him sleep. Her cheeks reddened when a smirk appeared on his face. He felt a little smug about this fact.
“Like what you see?” he asked with a husky voice.
“Maybe.” she muttered, hoping he wouldn’t hear but he did and his smirk got bigger.
“Gosh, you’re so cute when you blush.” he said with amusement in his voice but she knew he was sincere when he said that. “Come here.” he said.
She listened and leaned in for a kiss, she meant to just give hime a quick kiss but he wouldn’t let that happen. When she pulled away, he pulled her closer by putting a hand behind her neck and bringing her lips to his. It started out as soft and sweet but quickly turned into hungry filled kisses. The kiss got deeper within seconds. Neither of them seemed to be able to stop and they didn’t want to. He rolled her around after a while, now being on top of her. Her hands rested on his shoulders as he pushed her against his body. Soon after, her hands were beneath his shirt, tracing his stomach and chest. He shivered underneath her touch. His hands went down to the hem of her shirt and pulled apart to look at her to ask for permission. She nodded without hesitating and this was the green light for him.
Soon, clothes were shedded and they got intimate in a way they’ve never been before.
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162 Candles - 1
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The first thing I see when I wake up is the roof, followed by a blond woman, brown eyes and fangs. I screamed and backed away from her, falling off the bed, My feet tangled in the sheets. I expect her to bite me or something, instead she's laughing.
She's actually doubled over in laughter. Okay am I in danger or?
The door opens and Stefan pokes his head in with a worried look, it fades when he sees the vampire laughing in the shade. "I thought I told you to leave her alone" He scolded as he approached me and helped me to my feet.
The vampires laughter died out but she was still smirking "Well sue me, there's a human living with my best friend. I had to see for myself" She said, defending her actions for scaring me half to death.
"So.." She said giving me a look over. "Is this Elena?" I feel my face flush red hot. I shake my head along with Stefan. "Lexi this is Ariel. Ariel this is Lexi, my best friend" He said with a smile.
Lexi smiled at me. "I'm sorry for scaring you" I smile lightly, still a bit shaken, well that wasn't really her fault, and wave it off with a hand.
"It's fine, really" My phone rings and I reach for it, checking the caller I.d. Matt. I swallow the lump in my throat before picking up.
"Hello?"
"Ariel where are you?"
"I'm at a friends house. Why what's going on?"
"Well they're asking us to go to the sheriffs office. Interrogation for Vickis disappearance"
"Okay, I'll be there in a few" I say before cutting the call. I turn to Stefan, "Did they call you too?" He only nods
"I'll wait for you outside" He says and leaves me to change and get ready. Lexi stayed, leaning on the wall by the open window. "You mind?" She asks, pointing to the window.
"You don't have a daylight ring?" I ask as I close the curtains, blocking the sun light. She lifts her hands up, wiggling her fingers. "Nope. Only Stefan and Damon have those" I scowl for a second as I grab a pair of clean clothes from my bag.
"So you've already Damon" She adds with a chuckle as she plops down on the bed. "Sadly" I mutter as I walk to the conjoined bathroom to change. I hear her move to the door, "So how did you find out about vamps?" I slip out of my leggings and respond.
"I might have appeared at the wrong moment" I said, slipping on my jeans. "What happened, you look like you've been crying all night"
I look myself in the mirror and realize she's right. I have circles from lack of sleep under my eyes, and my eyes are red and puffy. "I lost someone yesterday" I explained lightly. I sighed and applied a layer of foundation to hide that.
I open the door and find Lexi on my bed again. "I'm sorry for your loss" I smile as She hands me my purse and I take it, putting my makeup inside. "Thanks. "So what are you doing here?" I ask, not wanting to talk about the subject of loss any longer.
We leave the room and start heading to the door, When Stefan comes to view by the door is when she responds
"It's Stefan Salvatores Birthday" She said, smiling.
"Ooh is it" I ask with a smirk. He rolls his eyes playfully.
"Thanks Lexi" He says sarcastically. "Your welcome" I smile.
"Right well we go to go, I'll see you in a bit" He says opening the door, I give Lexi a smile before leaving. "Nice meeting you" She nods and waves,
"Likewise"
............
When we get to the station Matt shoots up from his seat and approaches us. "Where were you?" He asks clearly angry. He looks up at Stefan with a glare before back at me.
"We're you with him?" I am suddenly great full for the makeup. I shake my head and elbow him in the rib for good measures.
"No! Jesus, Matt Donavan!" I scold before walking over to Elena who sat with her aunt Jenna and Jeremy. She pulled me to the side,
"Were you with him? You came through that door at the same time" Elena said, stating the obvious.
I sigh and make sure Matt is out of hearing range. "Fine. I was, I just- I can't be in the same house as Matt. I'm just staying there for awhile" She nods understandingly.
The door to Liz's office opened and she asked Matt to come in. When it was my turn I mentally tucked away my feelings.
I've watching a lot of true crime so I know what the look for in interrogations.
Fidgeting, nervous habits- twirling hair, bitting nail, shifting positions-, faltering voice, etc.
I sit down in the chair and Liz starts with the questions.
"Did Vicki say where she was going?" I shake my head, "No, she didn't. She told Jermey to tell me and Matt she was leaving town"
"What was Stefan doing at your house?"
"He was trying to help her, with the drug problem"
"What was her behavior like those last few days before she left?"
"Crazy, up and down, Like she was coming down from a drug"
"Any signs of aggression or violence?"
"No"
"So you believe Vicki really has left town?" I nod.
"Yes"
That had to have been the hardest thing I have ever had to do.
Me and Matt step outside the station. Stefan is there waiting.
I stop by Stefan but Matt keeps going, ignoring him. "He was trying to help Matt!" I call out to him. The door opens once more and Elena, Jermey and Jenna step out. "I'll met you guys at the car" She assures her family. She walks over to us.
"I don't think the Sheriff suspected anything. Jermey had no memory at all. All he knew was what Damon made him know" Stefan nods "Thank you"
That's my cue. I walk away from them and lean against the wall. I jump when someone touches me. "It's just me" Elena says. "Are you okay? You look better" I pull out my makeup.
"The beauty of makeup" I say sarcastically. She smiles a little one corner lifting higher then another. I scratch the crook of my neck, "Hey is it okay, if I go to your place for a while. Stefans kinda having a friend over and I don't want to intrude" She nods
"Sure"
............
"Wow, so did someone throw a party and not invite me?" Bonnie asks, opening the door. Me and Elena are under the covers, I'm not sure exactly what we're failing at. We just got in bed and didn't say a word, contemplating over everything, that and I was at least trying to sleep.
"You two up?" She asks, Angling her chin to us. "No" I respond and throw the covers up to cover my face.
I hear Bonnies footsteps and brace myself. She grips at the covers and me and Elena cling to them. "No, no, no" We both protest. Bonnie stops and looks at us both.
"Why haven't either of you called me back?" Elena heaves a sigh, "We're sorry"
"Are you gonna stay there forever?"
"Yep" We both respond simultaneously. Bonnie sighs, "Move over" I sigh and move to make space for her.
She gets under the covers and turns to face us both. "I'm officially worried. What's going on?" Elena puts her head on arm to look Bonnie in the eye. "I'm tired of thinking, of talking. I-"
"Can I get a one line version so I can at least pretend to be helpful?" Bonnie pleads. "Stefan and I broke up"
"Oh are you okay, right stupid question. What about you Ariel?" I sigh, "It's complicated, if it helps I feel exactly like Elena" Bonnie sighs at the both of us.
"Look I know I've been kinda M.I.A. when you two needed me the most" Elena slumps off my arm, "Wanna make it up to us? Get our minds off it" Bonnie smiles
"Just remember you asked for it" She warns as she gets up out of bed. Elena and I sit up in confusion. Bonnie shuts the window close and grabs a pair of scissors, cutting open one of the pillows allowing the feathers to fly on the bed. "Be patient" She comments with a smile.
"Okay" I say, shifting in my seat. Bonnie sits down in front of us. "I need to swear you both to secrecy" She says with a serious tone. "It's kind of a bad week for that kind of stuff" Elena comments.
"Swear, cause I'm not supposed to be showing you this" "Ok we swear" I say.
"Ok, there are no windows open right?"
"Right" I confirm looking at the windows.
"There's no fan, no air conditioning"
"None what are you doing?" Elena asks. "Grams just showed me this. Your gonna love it" She says, smiling.
She puts a hand over the feathers and slowly lifts her hand up. A single feather follows, levitating with her movements. I watch in awe as she lowers her hand and the feather stops.
"Bonnie what's going on?" Elena asks, confused and surprised. Bonnie says nothing, she rubs her hands together and hovers them over the pile of feathers.
She lifts them up and several follow. She lowers her hands and the feathers sink. She stares at them and the majority float up in the air, surrounding us. I gasp in awe and me and Elena both rise on our knees.
I trace my finger over one as it passes. "It's true you guys. Everything my grams told me. It's impossible, but it's true. I'm a witch" I nod, smiling.
"We believe you"
~
Holy Frack, my best friends a witch!
"It's weird huh. All this time joking I'm a psychic. I really am a witch" We laugh. "You don't think I'm a freak now, do you?" Bonnie asks us, stroking a feather.
"No, of course not" I say putting a hand on her knee in reassures. "Uh, Bonnie I just- I don't understand, though. If your grams asked you to keep all this a secret, why did you tell us?" Bonnie simply smiles,
"You two are my best friends. I can't keep secrets from you two"
Why is the world so cruel, seriously I feel guilty enough.
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