#it's honestly better than rose struggling to accept ten's face

[ernstiggroteadelaar]

so the episode Deep Breath is actually the best post-regeneration story of New Who because it does something with Clara's view of her friend and the change from young appearance to old appearance, it uses Madame Vastra in an interesting way, exploring her feelings of being ostracized in society, mirroring the relationship of Vastra/Jenny with the Doctor/Clara, and the concept of the old living droid who gives himself new bodyparts has cool commonalities to the Doctor's story as well

[wiypt-writes]

Rock ‘N’ Roll People In A Disco World

Part 4- Your Disco Needs You. 

Intro: Paul adjusts to life at home post the shooting.

Pairing: Paul Diskant x Reader

Warnings: Bad language, Smut (NSFW, 18+) A heap of angst and feelings. He’s a soft, lil bean…

Word Count: 8k

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar the reader and any other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Rock ‘n’ Roll People Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Part 3

Three weeks. He'd been home three weeks and with each hour that passed Paul felt less like himself. He was frustrated, angry, irritated and irritable. Upon his discharge from the hospital, his attending physician explained that the road ahead wasn't going to be easy and so far that had proved correct. He'd spent eight days in ICU, not to mention the few after in the recovery ward, and according to the medical team at his disposal, each day spent there in ICU was a full week of added recovery at home. Eight fucking weeks. He wasn’t even half way through. Physically, bar his vocal chords, there had been little lasting damage. Something he should be grateful for, apparently. The wound in his neck had healed well so far, leaving an angry raised pink scar behind, but other than that, to look at, there was no physical signs he’d been moments from death at all. Emotionally, however, well, he was a wreck. If it weren't the continued nightmares as his mind rehashed the horror inflicted in the line of duty, it was the constant desperation to be himself inside and out, to feel like he was HER Disco.  For the first two weeks post the shooting, he'd been reduced to writing things on a notepad for Y/N and others as he couldn't speak more than a word or two and at a faint whisper or angry rasp. Over the last week, it had improved a little but still, holding a prolonged conversation was painful and he often as a result found himself reaching for that fucking notepad as a means to an end when it simply became too damned much to bear. 

He hated it.

Not only was socialising his forte, but his and Y/N’s relationship usually operated with a lot of conversation as they would talk over dinner, joke when watching TV, chat or whisper to each other when laying in bed at night. And not being able to indulge in those simple things properly with his fiancée was killing him. And don't even get him going on his thoughts and anguish over the way they'd not been their usual intimate selves. From touches and sweet kisses, to sex and general intimacy, there had been none, not due to anything she'd done, but all down to him, and how he viewed himself, felt about himself.  He pulled open the fridge, reaching in for the eggs and bacon before he moved to the stove, coffee brewing in the pot to the side. As he set about making them breakfast, he lost himself momentarily, concentrating on whisking the eggs ready to scramble before he heard the bedroom door click open as Y/N shuffled out into the bathroom. A few minutes later he heard her footsteps hit that squeaky board in the small hallway as she headed down to their kitchen. Soon he felt her arms around his waist, hands hooking over his chest and shoulders. Her lips pressed to the back of his shoulder. "I can take over." Quickly, Paul twisted out of her hold and raspilly said, "I can manage." She stepped back from him, and he was immediately crushed with guilt as he took in the look on her face. The way her eyes were downcast and how hard she swallowed. He watched as she blinked hard, moved her lips to say something and then she simply sighed, her shoulders dropping as she turned and left, back the way she came, down the hall and back into the bathroom. When he heard the slam of the door echo across their small apartment, Diskant threw the wooden spoon across the counter and leaned against its edge, a silent curse across his lips as let out a deep sigh.

For the last three weeks, this was how their days had started and ultimately set the tone for the hours to follow. He didn't know where to begin to try and as for Y/N, well, she couldn't try any harder. 

**** The door shut behind you with a little more force than you’d meant, having slammed it by accident in your haste to escape quickly before the tears of frustration and hurt spilt from your eyes. You were trying to rationalise his behaviour, you knew he was frustrated at how his recovery was progressing, more so because physically he looked okay. But he wasn’t. He was weak, sleeping a lot. He struggled to talk for more than a few minutes at a time and the simplest of tasks seemed to leave him drained. But you could cope with that, hell, you expected it. What you hadn’t expected however, was what hurt you the most- the fact he seemed to be shutting you out. Your relationship had always thrived on the fact you had no secrets, there wasn’t a thing the pair of you couldn’t talk about but now, it was like he’d put up a wall to keep you out. And it hurt.

You turned on the shower and whilst you waited for the water to warm, you stripped off your pyjamas and made sure to pile your hair out of the way to avoid it getting wet. Once it was at the right temperature you stepped into the cubicle, closing the glass screen door behind you and tipped your face up to greet the warm spray as the water washed away your silent tears… The day had finally come and he was going home. Things were set and the car was running and waiting. He'd been able to dress in a pair of sweats, his trainers and a button down shirt, sighing as he couldn't just walk out but had to be rolled out. Words were few, and very soft, a stark difference to his typical boisterous laugh and toothy grin. But you were all thankful, thankful he was alive, thankful he was okay and healing. His parents offered to take you both home, yours and Barnes waiting for you to arrive back at the apartment. Your parents had worked diligently at deep cleaning for you, taking one less thing off your list to do, knowing the first few days home would been an adjustment period, learning how to move with one another and go about a new routine from at home therapy to outside appointments, no doubt eventually a steady stream of visitors. You honestly were fine with whatever Paul had wanted. In reality, he hadn't said much or written much on his pad of paper all morning. But you went along with it anyway. The nurse wheeled him out and you walked along his side, the feeling of relief washing over you as you stepped over the threshold of the hospital entrance and watched him breathe in his first breath of fresh air in ten days. You held back tears, thankful for your Wayfarers covering your eyes. But you didn't miss his, the way he was desperately trying to keep himself together around everyone else. He gave a nod in thanks to the nurse and slowly sat down in the back seat of his parents' SUV whilst you moved around to the other side to settle yourself in. Nothing was said, it didn't need to be, but you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze as Big Jim pulled away from the curb and headed towards home. When you went to move your hand away, he gripped it tightly, looking at you with those deep pools of blue.. You wanted to reach out to him, touch him on the one place you knew comforted him, made him melt, tell him he'd be okay, reassure him, but he was to your right, therefore his sutures and bandages were along the left of his neck and you couldn't touch him there, it was still painful, raw and frail. So you let him grip your hand the whole way home, the top of it reaching his lips a few times, just so, you thought at least, that he knew you were there, reminding him he was going to be okay. That he had you. As the four of you made your way into the apartment, you remembered that Barnes, your parents and by now no doubt Sam were there waiting for you all. Sure as you'd guessed, a thundering cheer and smiles came from the living room and filtered into your kitchen. The one bedroom, small space at capacity with guests. It was not the time for a 'Welcome Home' party. As Paul gathered a moment to himself, he looked to you and signalled he needed to write something down, so you grabbed the nearest note pad and a pen, the items you always had on the coffee table that collected your lists for groceries and to do items. His 'Honey Do' list as he liked to call it. He scribbled hastily and practically shoved the pad back at you. 'Can't do this. Need time.' "Okay," you looked at him after reading, "okay." You ushered over to Big Jim and Dotty, gently telling them that he was asking for some space, and they quickly understood, saying their goodbyes as you made the rounds, hoping neither of you looked like assholes in asking everyone to leave. With deep understanding, everyone left, allowing the two of you time together. You went to the kitchen to get water for you both, sighing as you saw the fridge stocked full and a freezer full of meals. Dotty and your mother, no doubt having done all that. When you returned to the living room, just a dozen steps away, Paul was sitting on the couch, hands on his thighs, his eyes closed. "I'm sorry, I should have stepped in and said it was better to have people see you when you were ready. I didn't think...." A deep sigh interrupted you and what was an empty hand was now jotting a note again. He turned the notepad in his lap. 'I just need you.' Your lip quickly quivered and you gently leaned in to kiss his lips softly. "I'm right here." He gave you a small smile as you sat beside him. 

“Do you want to shower? Eat? Sleep?" Paul frowned deeply at each of your asks. He shook his hands at you, trying to tell you to slow down. Then, you sat in silence. He slowly stood after a long stretch of nothing between you and headed down the hall to the bathroom, albeit a bit wobbly at first and when you rose to help steady him, he shrugged you off. You gave him his space, but worried about him on his own. Then you heard the click of the door and the shower running… A knock on the bathroom door dragged you from your thoughts and knowing it could only be Paul, you turned the shower off for a moment so he didn’t have to shout. “Yeah?” You cleared your throat and listened carefully. “Breakfast is waiting when you’re done.” His voice was croaky, but you picked up his words easily enough through the thin door. “Okay, give me a moment. Be right out.” You called back, no longer wondering why he didn't open the door anymore or why he locked it when he was inside.  You turned the shower back on, quickly lathered up your gel before washing and stepping out, towelling down before you slipped on a lightweight robe and opened the door.

*****

He waited for her at their small kitchenette, their places set, food already plated. He admired her, how she was dressed in her robe but as his eyes moved to hers, he noticed those beautiful orbs that he loved waking up to each and every day were red and puffy, despite her shower. He watched as she moved her food around her plate, eyes cast downward at the yellow scrambled eggs, slightly runny just the way she liked them. He tried to clear his throat but it stung so he reached over the tiny table-top and touched her hand. When her eyes met his, he spoke, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...” The words died in his throat as his voice gave out and he gave an exasperated gesture mouth, a frustrated noise escaping from his nose. "It's okay," she replied, her own words catching in her throat. His chest heaved with a heavy breath and his hand flexed into a fist, redirecting his frustration to have more control of his feelings, a shake of his head. It wasn't okay. None of this was okay. 

She didn't speak, she just slowly popped a shoulder with a shrug and tilted her head to the right to meet it. He could tell she was grinding her teeth, that flex in her jaw evident. She cleared her throat and shook her head, "I can't eat right now." She scooted away from the table and took her plate with her, setting it in the fridge and escaping to their room. When that door shut, Diskant rubbed his hands over his face. Things weren't going to improve between them if he didn't try to get his words out but it was fucking near impossible. And God damn it he was downright exhausted at writing it all down. He had so much to say, so much he wanted to be able to tell her but he didn't want to waste the ink. He wanted his life back. The dishes were done before they'd sat down to eat, so, wanting to give himself time and continue to give Y/N her space, he slipped into the bathroom for his own shower.

Taking a moment to figure out what exactly he was doing, Paul sighed. Shower, then figure it out with Y/N. They needed to talk, properly, even if it made him hoarse. Three weeks of struggling to just.... live and move on were enough. He brought his eyes to the mirror as his stood with his palms flat against the basin, his scar peeking out the top collar of his white tee. 

He'd grown to looking in the mirror more often than when he'd first come home. His reflection made him feel somewhat of a beast, a man no longer what he once was but something of fright. The scar by no means was earth shatteringly grotesque, and Paul wasn't naturally a man of conceitedness, however, it was still a shock to see. 

Not for the first him he'd wondered how it looked to Y/N. It was hideous in his mind, and he was afraid she was grossed out because of it too. The bullet had pierced through one of the places on his body where he simply relished her touch. From the friendly and tender tickle on the couch as they watched TV to the desperate way she would cling to it as she lay under him, it was just something they had shared since the start and now he held a million worries. It might hurt, maybe her touch would have lost the ability to drag the reactions it normally did, that he would have lost that special place that she only she knew about and could use to make him melt.

He was scared of his own girl’s touch, and while it was an absolute ridiculous notion, it flat out petrified him. It petrified him for the very fact that he couldn't feel ANYTHING there. Not the water that touched it, the feel of his own fingers ghosting over it or the bite of a pinch he'd given himself just to test the nerves.

He felt nothing. 

He stared at his reflection, running a hand over the month long beard that had grown as of late. He wasn't supposed to shave, having been on blood thinners since his surgery, but those ran out a few days ago. Turning his head to the right, and then to the left, he sighed. Maybe he'd feel a bit better if he did…more like himself. 

With a sigh he pulled the trimmers from under the sink and plugged them into the outlet. Then he started filling the sink with lukewarm water, preparing a fresh razor for use. Stripping down to his boxer briefs, he took a good look at himself, eyes burning into the mirror as he took in his pale colour, his sad eyes, the dark circles under them, no doubt result of the nightmares waking both he and Y/N in the night, and then that ugly line. He sighed as his mind travelled back to their first night home from the hospital… He hadn’t meant to push everyone away but it was overwhelming. He just wanted her. His second chance at life was handed to him and all he wanted was her, time with her. Everyone and everything else could wait. He was a little unsteady on his feet, a weak wobble really that would surely pass the more he moved but he wasn't his entirely strong self either. He felt weak, looked pale and was sporting a near two week stubble that was itchy, but there was nothing he could do about it. More pressing than the ever increasing facial hair, however, was the fact he was craving a shower. Having suffered the indignity of nothing but sponge baths and body washes in the hospital, he simply wanted nothing more than to stand under the steam of their surprisingly powerful shower, in their little bathroom and clean himself off, wash away the clinical smell of the hospital that seemed to cling to his skin.

He turned the water on first, the sound of it spraying from the shower head a joyful sound. He knew he'd have to go slow, take it easy and be gentle on himself. Paul slipped his sweats down over his narrow hips, the material pooling at his feet and he kicked them away to the corner of the space. Then, with trembling fingers, he started on his button down, swallowing back a nervous knot painfully in his throat. 

By the time he was stripped down to his boxer briefs, there was a covering of steam on the mirror and he swiped at it with his hand. Then gently, ever so gently, he began to peel back the medical tape holding the gauze to his neck, knowing he’d have to replace the dressing once he’d showered. Not that it mattered, he’d been sent home with what felt like enough gauze, dressings and surgical tape to patch up a fucking army.

What he saw was not his own skin. Gone was his St. Christopher medallion on his favourite chain, one his parents had gotten him when he graduated from the Police Academy, and near where the chain would lay against his collarbone and neck was the repair hours of surgery and a week and a half in the hospital had caused him. Still, he was alive. When all was said and done, a chain could be replaced and his wound would heal.

With a final glance at his wound he carefully stepped into the hot water, and a soft moan escaped his mouth as he relished the way it felt on his skin, searing the back of his legs, his ass and lower back. He took a half step back and the water moved up to just under his shoulder blades. As the water beat down on him, he grabbed a bottle of his favoured shower gel and lathered a good amount all over himself, before rinsing and repeating the motion several times. Then, with a movement that was more reflex than conscious, he picked up Y/N's gel and turned the cap, taking a long inhale of the scent that comforted him. He felt his throat tighten and he started to panic, but quickly realized he was swallowing down a cry rather than there being a problem with his wound. He placed the gel back and turned his face into the stream of water, blinking fiercely as the tears welled and bled from his screwed up eyes, mingling with the steady droplets that hit his cheeks from the shower.

He leaned into the stream farther, allowing it to wash over his head, literally drowning out the sound of everything around him. His palms rested flat against the tile, a stretch and pull from his muscles that had atrophied during his stay. Awakening muscles and tendons that were mangled and manipulated to heal.

How long he was in there, he had no idea, but eventually, he felt the temperature starting to drop a little, signalling he'd been in there far longer than he'd intended. Reaching out, he turned the shower off and then stepped out, grabbing a towel which he ran over his head, almost snorting when he remembered his hair was no longer as short as it had been, realising that Y/N had never really seen him with hair as such before.

Because yeah, that’s what she was going to be looking at. His hair, not the huge three inch gash on his neck that made him look like some kind of fucking Frankenstein monster. 

With a roll of his eyes, Paul wrapped his lower half in a towel and opened the door to the bathroom, stepping across the hall. When he entered the bedroom, he found Y/N sitting in the edge of their bed, a familiar necklace in her hands like a rosary, her knees bouncing up and down. He noted how cautiously she lifted her eyes to look at his, and didn't miss the way they quickly flicked to his wound and back to his. He felt that painful lump in his throat for again. She rose to her feet and took a step toward him. 

“The chain, well... they had to cut it.” She said quietly, holding out her hand where the necklace sat. “So I got you a new one.” She held it out to him and he paused, his hand reaching towards the chain “The pendant was fine so...”

He reached out to take it, his fingers softly brushing her palm as he clasped the metal in his hands. He turned the small, silver disk over and gave her a small smile before he placed it on his nightstand.

“Do you want me to put it on?” She asked, moving to pick it up. “I can-"

With a movement that was a little harsher than he’d meant he reached out and grabbed her wrist, holding it still a few inches away from the chain. She turned to look at him, a combination of shock and puzzlement on her face as he hastily shook his head.

"Okay," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

Taking a deep breath, Paul ran his hand over his face and shook his head at her. “S’okay.” Were the only words he could manage to rasp out. His eyes bored into her as he desperately tried to make her understand he wasn’t angry at her.

"I'll uh... You start getting dressed and I'll grab the bag from the hospital."

“Bag?” He half spoke, half mouthed at her, his brow creasing in puzzlement. 

"The one with the bandages."

He shook his head, waving his hands. “I can-“ his voice broke and she smiled.

“Paul, it’s fine, let me...”

He once more shook his head. 

“Baby...”

At that his fist slammed on the nightstand and making her jump.

Her breath was shaky and her lip quivered, her eyes instantly watering. He knew for a fact he'd scared Y/N for he'd never reacted like that in any situation with her.

Backing away from him, she held her hands up defensively and shrugged, "Okay, I'll just go get it for you."

As he recalled the memory, his head hung in disgrace, much the same as it had that evening when she’d left the room, tears in her eyes. He hadn’t meant to push her away like he had, but since that first time he’d continued to do so. And the more he did, the harder it was to stop. And she took it, never biting back or losing her patience. She accepted the fact that he showed her less affection, took everything he threw at her and then some, because she loved him. And damned it, he loved her, he loved her so fucking much it truly, physically hurt. And the thought that he was hurting her because of his inability to sort the jumbled mess in his head was killing him.

Taking a deep breath, he set out on the task he'd started. A shave and a shower. The vibration of the trimmers hummed against his cheeks and neck, trimming away the longer hairs, creating a stubble he then fully removed with his cream and razor. Then, he showered, taking his time, losing himself in his thoughts and playing back the last month in his mind. It was no walk in the park and a frustration and anger bubbled just beneath the surface, it was like he'd recognized he wasn't the same. And was fighting a never ending battle with himself to pull out of the darkness that had overcome him so he could let her light shine in. Fuck it, he needed to do it. He needed to rip the proverbial fucking band aid off and own up to his shit. Because losing her, that was absolutely not an option. 

But how? Would she be willing? After all he'd put her through. He was still scared, and he knew his own limits were still there. But they had to start connecting or he was going to lose her. He felt it. 

Towelling off, he disposed of his laundry in the dirty hamper and wrapped his towel around him. He looked in the mirror and again wiped off the condensation. He nodded at his reflection. Now he looked like Diskant. HER Disco. He smiled a little to himself and left the bathroom, feeling a lot different than when he'd entered. 

When she wasn't in their room, he dressed in jeans and a tee, flip flops on his feet and headed down their small hall. He saw her tucked into the couch, a slouched long sleeve over her taught frame, denim shorts on those hips and legs that made his mouth dry. He could see the smoothness of them and his fingers tingle to touch them. Deep red painted toes balanced on the edge of the coffee table as she read the book she'd started recently. 

He sat down next to her, garnering her attention. She looked at him with those beautiful eyes of hers. Those eyes that make him weak. Make him purr and melt and feel like he can conquer the world all at once. Those eyes that make him feel like a man above himself. 

At the risk of losing his voice entirely, he began with, "I feel cooped up and it's driving me crazy. Can we go somewhere?" 

A smile so genuine spread across her lips that it twisted his gut and sped up his heart. "Yeah, okay. Any idea where?" 

He shook his head, "I just want to go. I want us to get out of here." He made sure emphasize the us in that reply, even if it didn't sound as so. 

"Okay, let's go," she tossed her book on the coffee table and stood, grabbing her bag by the door and slipping into flip flops of her own.

****

You humoured his request, just to go for a drive. And you drove for hours, all over the place. But little did you realize where you'd end up eventually.

It was late in the day and the parking lot was emptying out. You'd pulled into a spot and turned to him, the Ferris wheel and various stands along the pier behind you. His eyes were covered by his own Wayfarers but his smile was soft and sweet.

"I'm kinda hungry, are you hungry?" You said to him, a humorous tone to your voice. Your words echoing ones he'd spoken to you so long ago, words that had become an inside joke between you. 

He chuckled lightly, softly and replied with a nod as the two of you exited the car. You waited for him to meet you on your side. The second he joined you, he took your hand in his and together you walked the bike path until the steps up to the pier were accessible.

He stood at the railing, about halfway down, as you ordered two beers, two hot dogs and fries to share. The sun was just at the horizon, painting the sky in watercolour sherbet, and Paul's silhouette stood out against it. He saw you approach and grabbed his dog and beer from you, lightening your load. The two of you shacked up at a table near the games, almost the same table the two of you sat at on your first date.

“You know, I was suckered into a first date here? Guy was a total swindler, stalker too."

He swallowed his bite of food and washed it down with beer before he smiled and rasply said, "you were willing to go with me. I didn't sucker you."

“You totally trapped me.”

"You needed help, I offered," he pointed to himself, then to you and smiled, "willing participant."

"However you spin it so you can sleep at night," you sighed. "I'm just glad I fell for it."

Paul nodded, "me too." He perched his sunglasses on top of his head. "I love you, so much." He took your beer from your hand and set it on the table top, whilst pulling both of your hands into his. 

You couldn't hide the obvious hitch in your chest at the outward affection. The lump in your throat hurt to swallow as your eyes welled up. "I know, I love you, too. More than anything." You fought the emotion in your words, the way they were starting to make your voice quiver.

He sighed at your emotion and shook a deep breath. “This isn't easy." He stalled, allowing his voice rest a second in order to keep trying to get his words out. "I'm not easy." He paused again. "I’m sorry.”

"It's okay," you shook your head.

"It's not." His voice was starting to give way again and you saw the frustration on his face.

“Hey...” you squeezed his hand, “I’d rather you did take it out in me than bottle it all up. I don’t like it when you don’t tell me how you’re feeling.” It broke you to watch him struggle, each and every day it broke you. And you were at the end of your rope, frayed and tired of keeping it together. You sighed. “Just take your time. I’m not going anywhere. Text me for Christ's sake!”

He chortled a bit and shook his head, "it's not the same." He brought your hands to his lips and you closed your eyes at the feeling it gave you.

You shook your head, if he wasn't going to make the first move then you needed to try. "Do you trust me?"

He frowned and nodded. “Always.”

Without words, you leaned forward, scooting yourself onto the edge of his seat bench and leaned the forearm to your left arm against his right shoulder. Your fingers scratching behind his ear. Gently you brought your right hand up his chest, slowly, delicately, over his shoulder and he flinched away from you. "Paul, please," you whispered. You could see the way his body started to shake, his breathing laboured. "It's just me, baby."

The closer your fingers got, the more his hands twitched to pull you away. You didn't know for certain what was going on on the inside, but you had a pretty good idea. On the outside, his eyes shone back at you with fear as he tried to just breathe. Then your fingertips brushed the raised pink skin that just peeked over the edge of his tee…

The pads of her fingers felt like red, hot needles the way his skin was reacting. But that was nothing compared to what was firing in his brain.

He clenched his teeth together, tried to keep his breathing calm and regular as those gentle fingers that could make him purr and sing moved delicately over the raised edges of his scar, her eyes never once leaving his. Quickly, the feeling of red hot needles dissipated and he felt nothing but a relief that washed over him from his scar to his toes. He could just feel her and that was monumental. 

A deep, shaky breath rumbled his chest as he painfully swallowed the lump in his throat, knowing it all twitched under her touch. It felt the same. Nothing had changed, that familiar tingle he usually felt at her touch sparked something deep inside. The involuntary little shudder he always emitted when she hit that little sweet spot, shot up and down his spine and he felt his lips curl up on a smile as his girl beamed at him. 

“See.” She whispered.

“How...” his voice croaked and the words died as he took a deep breath, giving himself a moment. “How did you know that was...” another pause before he shook his head, gesturing to his mouth.

“Because, Paul Christopher Diskant, I know you inside out.” She delicately touched him still, her nails just at that spot that made him quiver. "This doesn't change anything. Not now, not ever."

He let out a strained sob, pulling her close, his lips harshly on hers.

“Tell me about it, Stud.” She smiled against his lips. 

"Let's go home," he managed before his voice cut out again.

“Is that an order or a request?” She teased.

He grinned and popped a shoulder in response. 

The drive from Santa Monica to home was the most comfortable you'd been in weeks, and you could tell Paul was too. As you drove, he couldn't stop smiling, like this weight had been lifted and the fog between you cleared. His eyes didn't leave your profile, his fingers entwined between yours, never letting go.

****

His hand never left yours as you walked the short path from the garage to your little one bedroom shack, even single-handed unlocking and opening the door. You couldn't even step through the threshold before his lips were on yours, soft and slow, gentle, his tongue gliding through the opening you gave him. A kiss so deep you were sure the two of you were ethereally floating. You tossed your bag on the couch as you passed it by, toeing off your sandals as Paul gently tugged on your hand, an instruction to follow him.

Down the narrow hall you went, directly to your bedroom tucked off in the right corner at the end of it. Again, his lips are on yours and if you didn't know any better, you'd detected a slight tremble in his touch as his hands came to hold your face close to his. Your hands rested against his chest as he kissed you breathless. There was no rush or desperation behind his kiss, if anything a wanton need crept through the both of you but you weren't going to push him, no. You knew Paul needed to set the pace, for whilst you could read him like a book, this terrain was new and navigating his new emotions and fears needed to be on his time and terms.

You were just happy he was touching you again, allowing you to touch him. You missed him, missed the way the two of you were. This had by far been the longest the two of you had been intimately separated since your beginning. 

His hands left your cheeks and gently gripped at the bottom of your top. You stepped back a little, raising your arms so he could pull it straight over your head. You watched his eyes soften as he looked at you, almost like he was seeing you for the first time again. You reached for the hem of his own shirt, but he took a half step back, freezing you.

“You don’t have to,” you whispered, “if you’re not ready, leave it on or... it can wait, we can wait.”

He swallowed hard and quickly his hand gripped the back of his collar, pulling the tee over his head. You took care to keep your eyes locked on his, knowing exactly what was making him nervous- his scars. As his eyes searched yours, your face broke into a smile and then he was back on you, his hands on your hips, pulling you close as his mouth claimed yours. His hands felt warm on your skin as they travelled up your sides, only letting go to move to your jaw and neck. His thumbs across your cheek, his fingers splayed around your neck and into your hair. 

He kissed you with all tongue, his lips massaging against yours as he changed the position of his head, tilting it the opposite way. And for a moment he pulled away, his hands still on you, the burn of his eyes lustfully blown as they bore into yours. Then, he moved in on you again, his nose bumping against yours as his thick, flat tongue filled your mouth fully, yours submitting against it, allowing him to devour you. It was as if he was opening up your soul, tasting feeling and seeing every colour of the rainbow. You felt as if your body was going to explode with the feeling sheer desire and love flooding hours state, but above it all, happiness that he was kissing you like this again. 

It left you breathless and wanting more. You actively fought the urge to rip his belt buckle open and shove his jeans down, trying hard to leave him to set the pace. But, as always, he could read you like the pages of a well-worn novel and that maddeningly smug, cheeky school-boy grin crossed his face. It twisted your insides and made your skin tingle.

His fingers wound through your hair as he backed you towards the mattress. As the crook of your knees hit the side of the bed, he kissed you again, his fingers moving to the button of your denim shorts. Your mind was excited, your body fully responding to his touch, his movements. You’d missed this. His fingertips touched your tummy and you shivered, the denim quickly falling away as you fell onto the mattress.

You watched as he undid his button and flies, the zipper echoing in the stillness of your room, bouncing off the exposed brick and vibrating in your ears. He kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his denims, strong thighs, arms and taught abs flexing as he crawled over you, his hands planting either side of your head. The muscles of his shoulders twitched as he lowered himself over you, his lips claiming yours in a slow dance, his tongue leisurely tangling with yours, a soft sigh escaping him.

You continued to resist the urge to touch him where you have always shown him you're there with him, that part of him that makes him sing and shiver. That spot that only you know of that makes him melt against you, submit to his lust and desires for you. Instead, as his tongue felt every part of yours, his hands caging himself over you, you tilted your hips, your hands grazing the underside of his biceps, curling around the raised skin of his tattoos. At the feel of your pelvis bumping his, he gave a little grunt, breaking the kiss, his forehead pressing to yours as he returned the gesture, his own grinding into yours, the hardness of his arousal unmistakable through his boxer briefs as it brushed against the thin cotton and lace of your panties.  His words hit your ears, "need you, Sugar, so bad." You practically purred as you heard your nickname clearly and for the first time in weeks, not strangled by pain, or muted by frustration. His voice was his own once again and it caused a sting in your eyes. Your hands moved along his torso, from his ribs down to his hips, the waistband of his boxers bent by your fingertips. All whilst his lips moved over your jaw, behind your ear where you gasped before he moved down your neck, nestling soft kisses against the tops of your breasts. “You got me, Stud. Always.” At that, he crashed his lips to yours in an attempt to hide the sob you could faintly feel against your own lips.

Your hands gently cupped his jaw, holding his face to yours as the kiss grew desperate, his hips rolling into yours again. Suddenly, he moved back, kneeling between your legs as his hands hooked into the waistband of your panties. “Off.” His voice was raspy once more as he issued the instruction, yet the undercurrent of desire was unmistakable. Obliging to his instruction, you raised your hips off the bed and allowed him to pull them down, his body shuffling along the bed as he glided the garment down over your legs. His heavy hands caressed up your thighs, his thumbs drawing circles over your skin. God, did your skin burn in delight at his touch, you had to wonder and think if he felt the same. There was no denying he did, or you wouldn't be here, you'd still be at the pier, figuring out how to navigate his feelings, his fears. His body led over you, your sex and his barely touching, but yet twitching and pulsing with deep desires of need. His hand pulled down the cup of your bra, his mouth taking gentle nips against your breast as his mouth moved to your nipple, where he gently rolled it between his lips before his tongue swirled the sensitive nub. Your back arched in pleasure, one hand twisting in his hair, the other fisting in the sheets besides you. His free hand slipping behind your back to expertly unclasp your bra, allowing it to loosen around your arms.  "Paul...." you moaned. His free hand reached for yours that was fisted in the sheets, pulling your fingers apart and taking your palm against his, entwining your fingers. You were more than ready for him. Like he needed you, you just needed him too. It took one rock, one hip thrust and he slid right inside. "Oh fuck," you both let out, his a good rasp and yours a whimper. It felt so good, beyond good, the way he filled you, stretched you. You wasted no time in flicking your hips up towards his as he thrust down. Your insides fluttered as you joined together each time. God, did it feel... so... fucking... good. Again and again he rocked into you, his movements needy but not harsh, as a desperate need filled you both. You lightly nudged him with a knee and together you rolled, him to his back and you over his hips, still with him settled inside you. Tossing your bra to the floor with the rest of your clothes, you rocked against him whilst he reached up and held your bouncing breasts in his hands, a gentle tweak of each nipple. The sensation sent ripples to your middle, warmth pooling at your core and you gave a soft moan of delight before you bent forward, your lips on his. The kiss was sloppy, his hips still rocking up into you as your pelvis rolled against his. You were close, you knew he could feel you twitching around him. Your lips were covering his as you slowly bounced and rocked on top of him, a pressure to your clit that was blissfully crippling.

In a sudden exertion of strength, Paul sat up and his arms wrapped around your back, holding you close to his chest, his lips moving over your collar bone and down your sternum. He was as deep inside you as he could go, bottoming out as the angle changed and he was clearly hitting a new spot that erupted your insides like a volcano. Your body shook as your orgasm boiled at its peak, with each jut of his hips against you. With one hand around you, the other moving hair away from your eyes and keeping it back by his fingers, his nose rubbed against yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he brought your lips to his. You were going to come and it was going to be absolutely amazing. Deepening your kiss, your fingers scratched at the back of his neck, just at the nape of his hairline and you started to feel him quiver. There he was, right there, like always. Your lips broke free from his and nipped at his strong jaw before kissing at the joint where it met his ear. You were careful now, despite the throws of your own orgasm starting to crash around you, to weigh your moves with precise care as you gently, delicately kissed down his neck. Your lips hit that pinkish-red raised mark and your world exploded. The blood surged to your ears, deafening you as you came, hard. Your eyes fluttered closed but the noise he made broke through clear as day, and they flew open again. Those beautiful blues were locked into your gaze as his broken whimper of your name blew into a loud groan as he clung to you, his hips stilling, his eyes fluttering shut. His noise died down, catching in his throat, his chest heaving as you felt him twitch inside of you, the after-throws of both your orgasms pulsing together. Tenderly, your hands slid up to cup his face as you kissed him softly, feeling him sag a little, and you gently pushed on his chest. You didn’t want him to release his hold but you knew he was going to be exhausted. He didn’t take much persuasion, his body boneless as he sank onto the soft mattress behind him. You went with him, your head tucking under his chin as the pair of you recovered, the only sound in the room the dying pants as you both eagerly drew breath.

His hand slipped into your hair, cradling the back of your head as you shifted and pressed your lips to his jaw.

“You okay?” You asked. 

He nodded, swallowing hard as his other arm ran up and down your spine, fingers gently tracing a path along your still touch sensitive body. His lips pressed to the crown of your head. 

When you'd regained the feeling of life back into to your body, you sat up, rolling off of Paul's hips, garnering a look of confusion from him. He loved when you would keep him inside you, and continue to feel the warmth of one another's bodies. You smiled softly at him, sleepily. You saw the look on his face, the look of contentment but of need and seeking comfort. It was a look you'd come to memorize as his 'I'm tired' look. Soft features, heavy eyes. Blissed out from love making or not, Paul was exhausted and you read every hint of it you memorized over the years. 

"C'mere," you now rasped, your voice rattled by emotion and dry from moaning. 

His lazy smirk crossed his lips and he knew that tone. He knew what was coming next. He rolled to his left and pressed his lips to yours gently before laying his head on your chest. You traced your first two fingers gently up and down his neck, along his shoulder and back up, a repeated pattern you only you had the map to. 

A combination of a contented sigh with a little hum left his throat as his weight over you grew heavier, like the comfort of a weighted blanket. You blinked back the tears, because although you'd heard it time and time again, right then, it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever made. 

**** Part 5

[northlight14]

Breakup’s, birthdays and drag shows

Description: Roman and Janus broke up and now Roman can't celebrate his birthday with him. Now it's Virgil's job as his best friend to cheer him up.

TW: breakup mention, crying, cursing, Janus isn't intended to be unsympathetic but since Virgil doesn't like him it might come across that way, alcohol mention, brief violence mention, let me know if I need to add anything else

Ships: platonic prinxiety, past roceit

Genre: hurt/comfort

Prompt: alt prompt 4, drag (prompt by @pridewrite2021)

Virgil was browsing the card isle looking for a birthday card for Roman when his phone started to buzz. He pulled it out to see it was Remus calling him.

"Ugh, what is it Remus?" Virgil said, already not interested in whatever Remus had gotten himself into.

"Hey Virgin! Can you come over?" Remus chirped.

"I'll be coming over later to drop off Roman's card. Why, what's up?"

"Well, you know how Roman and Janus broke up last week?" How could Virgil forget? Roman had spent the entire week being an absolute wreck and Patton and Logan had to hold Virgil back in order to stop him beating Janus up.

"Yes." Virgil gritted out through his teeth.

"Well, Roman just realized that he isn't gonna be able to celebrate with him and that this is gonna be his first birthday without him in 3 years and what not. So now he's crying in his room, lookin' like a hot mess. And since he's your best friend and all I was wondering if you could come and cheer him up or whatever."

"What! How the hell am I supposed to do that?!" Virgil yelled, before realizing he's still standing in the middle of the card isle, hiding his face which was now scarlet.

"I don't know man but you'll come up with something! You're like a brother to him, Virgie!"

"You actually are his brother, Rem!"

"Come on Virgil, please!" Remus pleaded through the phone. "I just...I really don't know what to do, here." He said, voice suddenly going quiet.

Virgil sighed. "Ok, I'll be ten minutes."

———

Virgil always forgot how big Roman's house was. The drive way alone seemed to go on for ages, outlined by large trees and red rose bushes. The pathway to the door was a red brick and clearly well taken care of. The house itself was a faded red brick with large windows and balconies. The front door was too tall and painted black, standing in the middle of two white pillars.

Looking at where Roman lived, it was easy to see why Virgil had disliked him at first. When they'd first met, Roman had a much bigger problem with his bratty rich kid attitude and with his life seemingly perfect from an outsiders point of view it was easy to see why they clashed. after all, Virgil had absent parents and had to work several jobs to help pay bills. But as he got to know Remus better it made it much easier to see through Roman as well. Mr and Mrs Prince were nice enough but they had a bad habit of pitting Roman and Remus against each other, both with academics and creative pursuits. It turned out Roman's arrogant attitude was a coping mechanism for his surprisingly low self esteem. It also turned out that Roman wasn't just "lazy" when it came to school work like Virgil had first thought, but he was actually struggling with ADHD. The more Virgil learned about Roman and the more Roman learned about Virgil, the closer they became until they began to see each other as brothers. Brothers that would make fun of each other relentlessly but brothers non the less.

Virgil knocked on the large door and waited for a response. Not too long after, Mrs Prince answered. She was a tall and slender woman with tanned skin. Her dark hair was tied perfectly in a bun. She wore a black dress with a red shall, both of which looked as expensive as Virgil's car.

"Oh, hello Virgil. I assume you're here for Roman? Remus said you were coming." She said.

"Uh, yeah. Can I come in?"

"Of coarse, Roman should be in his room. He hasn't come out since this morning." She said, stepping aside to let Virgil in.

'Oh God.' Virgil thought to himself before heading upstairs and hoping he would finally be able to remember which room is Romans.

In the end Remus came out his room and pointed Virgil in the right direction but hey, no one else needed to know that.

Gently, Virgil knocked on Romans door and waited to be let in.

"Remus, I told you to go away!" Roman yelled from inside, his voice sounding muffled.

"Hey Roman, it's Virgil. Can I come in?"

There was a brief moments pause before Virgil heard a quiet voice he decided to interoperate as Roman inviting him in.

Virgil was very taken aback by the sight before him. The room, which was usually kept as neat as possible, was covered in tissues, chocolate wrappers and a mix of opened and unopened presents. Roman was sat on his bed, eyes puffy and hair messy.

"Um, hey, are you alright?" 'Fuck sake Virgil, obviously he isn't.' Roman sniffled, smiling despite himself. "Yeah, I just...I miss him, ya know?"

"Yeah." Virgil said, sitting beside him. "Oh, um, I got you this..." Virgil awkwardly passed him the card.

Roman smiled, accepting it. "Thanks."

"So...what do you want to do? For your birthday, I mean." Virgil said, trying and failing to hide his discomfort.

"I don't know..." Roman sighed, looking down at his hands. "I was just going to continue to watch Carmen Santiago. But I always watched that with Janus. It was our show, ya know? He'd always make a comment about how she's still stealing and I'd counter it with how she's stealing from thieves so surely that makes it ok! I don't know, it just...it feels wrong to watch it without him..." Roman laughed sadly. "Which sucks because the last episode left on a cliff hanger and I really wanna know what happens next." He laughed a little at his own expense.

Virgil couldn't help but smirk. "Well, why don't we go out somewhere?"

Roman looked down again. "I don't know..."

'Crap. What the heck am I supposed to do here?!'

Virgil looked around awkwardly. He then spied in the corner what looked like a new makeup pallet. Roman must have gotten it for his birthday. 'Bingo.'

"Hey, why don't we do each other's makeup?" Virgil offered.

Romans face immediately lit up. "Really?!" He said, excitedly.

"Yeah, why not?" Virgil said, scratching the back of his neck.

"Well last time I asked to do your makeup, you said you'd rather stab yourself in the eye with your eye liner."

"Yeah, well..." Virgil coughed. "Consider it my birthday present to you."

Roman immediately shot up and grabbed the eyeshadow pallet and several brushes. "I promise you won't regret this!" Yeah, Virgil was already regretting this but Roman seemed happy and that's all that mattered.

———

The brushes tickled Virgil's face as Roman layered the purple eye shadow. Virgil almost started to object as Roman began to apply silver jewels at the edges of the eye shadow, before stopping himself. Roman then finished the look by applying a purplish pink lipstick and brushing Virgil's bangs out of his face. He then handed Virgil a mirror. The look was very 80's glam, far from Virgil's usual style but he had to admit, it looked really good. The eyeshadow looked sharp, the upper lid being a lighter shade than the under eye and corners of the eyes.

"It looks great!" Virgil said, admiring it. Roman smiled proudly from the compliment. "Alright." Virgil said, taking the eye shadow pallet. "Your turn."

Roman laughed. "I appreciate the offer, rainy day real estate, but I don't really wanna look like I haven't slept in a hundred years." Roman teased.

"Says the guy who's went entire weeks not sleeping because he was binge watching a new show!" Virgil teased back.

"And I'll have you know I wear that like a badge of honor!"

"Besides," Virgil continued to laugh. "I know how to do other makeup looks."

"Ok..." Roman said. "But if I end up looking like a Tim Burton character, I will kill you with my bare hands." They both couldn't help but laugh.

Virgil decided to go for a similar style that Roman went for, layering different shades of red and mixing in some gold glitter. He also decided to draw a small crown on his right cheek, just below the eye. The look was then finished off with red lipstick to match.

He passed the mirror over to Roman who gasped in delight at his reflection. "It looks so good!" He exclaimed.

"Yeah? I'm glad you like it." Virgil smiled, pulling back on his purple patch hoodie after taking it off to give himself more mobility when applying the makeup.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Roman said, waving his arms in front of his face before jumping up and handing Virgil a black leather jacket that was hung on his chair as well as a pair of purple tinted heart glasses. "Put these on!" He exclaimed.

Virgil once again pulled off his hoodie, replacing it with the leather jacket. It fit him surprisingly well considering Roman was a fair bit taller and more muscular than him. He then put on the glasses and Roman eagerly pulled him off his bed and guided him to his full length mirror.

"Wow...I actually look really good." Virgil said.

"See! I told you!" Roman laughed.

Virgil examined the jacket. "I didn't think you'd own a jacket like this. Did you steal it from Remus or something?" Virgil asked.

Romans smile suddenly dropped. "It, uh, it was Janus'..."

Shit.

"Oh, um, sorry." Virgil said, honestly.

"It's ok." Roman sighed, sitting back on his bed. "I've been meaning to give it back. Especially since it still has his wallet in it. But that means I'll have to see him and I don't think I'm ready for that yet."

'He left his wallet in here?' Virgil put his hands in the pockets and sure enough, Roman was right. Virgil quickly started to feel all too powerful now knowing this.

"Hey, come on, let's go out somewhere. Show off your makeup." Virgil tried again.

"For someone who looks like they belong in a vampire novel, you're awfully eager to go outside." Roman laughed.

"Come on, I just think it'll do you some good to get out for a bit."

Roman averted Virgil's gaze. "I don't know..."

"Come on, man. Do you really want to let that jackass ruin your birthday?"

Roman sighed. "Ok, fine."

Virgil waited outside Romans room as he changed out his pajamas. When he came out, he was sporting a white shirt paired with a black jacket that had a red floral pattern. He was also wearing a pair of glasses, his in the shape of two fairy wings that matched the gold in his eye shadow perfectly.

As the two walked out the house, Roman called "Mom, weren't going out! I should be home soon!"

His mom sounded surprised by this but happy non the less. "Ok sweetie, be back soon!"

"So where are we going?" Roman asked as they walked out the house.

"How the hell should I know? I'm just winging it." Virgil laughed.

———

The two wandered through the town as the sun began to set, the reds and oranges bouncing off Romans glasses and the glitter perfectly. Virgil was all too aware of the judging looks they were being given but when he looked at Roman, he seemed happy. And right now that's all that mattered. Just keeping Romans mind off Janus.

Eventually, Virgil began to hear the sound of music and he subconsciously started to follow it, Roman tailing behind. As he wandered through the town he eventually found the source.

A bar putting on a drag show.

Roman was staring off into space, standing next to him. Virgil tapped his shoulder, pulling him back to reality. "Hey, I know what we're doing."

———

Romans face lit up once more when he saw the stage. It didn't seem like they missed too much, which was good. The drag queen that was stood on the stage currently was singing, her hair done big with makeup that shone and reflected the lights perfectly. Her dress black and covered in sequins and frills. The heels she wore didn't look comfortable in the slightest but she walked in them with ease.

The two sat at the bar. They were each 18 and 19, meaning they wouldn't be able to drink but given the circumstances, it was probably best if Roman didn't get drunk right now.

Instead, Virgil just ordered them some non alcoholic drinks and fries. Roman was about to hand him the money to pay but Virgil immediately declined. "My treat. It's your birthday after all." Virgil then remembered Janus' wallet still in his jacket pocket. 'I mean, if Janus is the reason we're here, it's only right he should be the one to pay for us, right?' Virgil couldn't help his smirk as he handed the money over.

The night continued and Roman and Virgil cheered loudly for each queen on stage, each one quite different from the last. Virgil watched as any sign of grief seemingly dissolved from Romans face.

The final queen for the night came on the stage and they both watched with joy as she performed.

"I know what you're doing, you know." Roman said, not taking his eyes off the stage. Virgil froze instantly, slowly daring to look at his friend. Roman once again had small tears in his eyes but he wore the most genuine smile Virgil hadn't seen on him in ages. "Thank you."

Virgil smiled at his friend. At his brother. "Of coarse."

-------

Authors note: I’ve been wanting to write something based on the glam looks Thomas posted for Roman and Virgil for a while now and I obviously wanted to write something for Romans birthday. So when I saw the prompt for today was ‘drag’ I immediately thought “well that’s convenient”. So happy birthday Roman! Anyway, hope y’all enjoyed. I’m still practicing my writing and hopefully I’m improving. 

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[dimigex]

Beautiful, Perfect Disaster - KakaSaku

A03, FF

This is an old piece that has been waiting on me for too long. I've decided to start lightly editing the mostly finished pieces I have to clear out doc. Also, @birkastan2018 I believe we talked about this story once, and you wanted to see this whenever I finished it!

The sun sank beneath the horizon, gold and orange deepening to purple or blue as stars fought their way through dusk. Kakashi sat at his desk with a stack of paperwork beside him; the words had begun to blur together. He stubbornly refused to admit that his vision wasn't what it had been ten years ago. Thirty-three and already an old man, Kakashi thought. He blamed it on the stress of raising genin, then leading the village; it had nothing to do with age.

Truth be told, Kakashi should have gone home hours ago. The summer sun set well after the end of the day for most office jobs, but he wanted to try and get ahead of his workload. It kept his mind from wandering to all the things that he didn't have. There was no one for him to rush home to, no one who cared if he spent an extra three hours working on reports, or even stayed at the office all night.

Popping his neck, Kakashi rose and removed the Hokage's robes. The hat rested on an empty chair on the opposite side of his desk. He only wore them when necessary, but hadn't bothered to change back after his last meeting. Even the newly designed jonin armor felt more natural, though he wasn't wearing that beneath the robes today. The charcoal grey pants and undershirt were comfortable enough since he'd planned to be at his desk all evening. It wasn't as if half a dozen Anbu wouldn't appear at the first sign of danger, anyway.

With one glance at the work still piled on the desk, Kakashi turned toward the door. He started to open it, then stepped back in surprise at finding a figure in the shadowed hallway. Sakura glanced up at the sound, lip caught between her teeth and eyes puffy from crying. Kakashi did a double take, hating the way his chest tightened at the sight of her. When he said her name as a question, the girl forced a fragile smile onto her lips. Then, her facade crumbled, and a single tear slipped free of her left eye.

The protective barrier shattered, and Sakura threw herself forward with a sob. Kakashi managed to catch her awkwardly, if only to keep them from falling to the floor in a tangle of limbs. Her arms curled around his middle, body achingly warm in a way that had nothing to do with the summer heat outside. Belatedly, Kakashi realized that Sakura wore jonin blues and no armor over it. He struggled to suck a breath around the lump in his throat. "What happened?"

Tears spilled out of Sakura along with broken words. "Sasuke said I'm too clingy and needy, that he's already told me that we'll never work together. And he has, I shouldn't have tried to get him to spend time with me when he was back in the village. I shouldn't have-"

The next words were muffled when Sakura hid her face against Kakashi's chest. As the dampness of her tears bled through his shirt, hot anger stirred in his gut. Kakashi normally prided himself on his ability to divorce emotion from his life, but not this time. Sakura's hands tightened, and his heart hammered hard enough that he feared Sakura would be able to hear the sound. He struggled to draw breath through his constricted throat.

Thankfully, heartbreakingly, Sakura pulled away and wiped her eyes with trembling fingers. "I'm sorry. You must think I'm being terribly childish."

"Not at all," a voice that sounded very much like Kakashi's answered. Then, it continued. "I think he's a fool who never deserved you in the first place."

Sakura's green eyes widened. She pulled back until they stood half a dozen feet apart: Sakura shy and embarrassed and Kakashi conflicted by the truth he hadn't meant to say.

Her eyes searched his, looking for Kami only knew what, then she nodded. "Thank you for saying that."

"It's true." Kakashi had more control over his voice this time, but barely. "What you have with Sasuke isn't love; it's not supposed to hurt this way."

Heat flared between them, and Sakura closed the distance to glare up at Kakashi. "And you're an expert on it?"

Of course not, Kakashi thought. Look at how poorly I've handled this. For months, I've felt something, but I refused to admit it until it came spilling out like poison. Kakashi couldn't say that. Sakura's anger wasn't directed at him, anyway. He could bear the brunt of her fury if that's what she needed. He could bear a lot of things. "I know enough to see that this isn't it."

Kakashi knew that he'd made a mistake when Sakura looked at him with a mixture of pain and disbelief. The room spun, and he thought that he might be sick. He fought the nausea down and took a half step in her direction. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Sakura spat. Somehow, she drew herself up, towering over Kakashi in her fury. "For lecturing me about something you don't understand? For acting like you cared about me? For-"

"For falling in love with you." The words hung between them for a moment, louder than the echo of Sakura's anger.

Kakashi had never looked squarely at the thought, never viewed what was happening between them as more than general protectiveness. But now, he knew it for what it was. He let out a breath and closed the distance between himself and Sakura. "I'm sorry, but you deserve someone who won't put you second or third or fourth every time."

"And, that better is you?" Sakura's voice changed in a way that Kakashi couldn't quantify. It had a breathy quality, an uncertainty, but he couldn't read the tone over the buzzing in his ears. "Is that what you mean?"

Kakashi forced out a humorless laugh at the suggestion. "No."

"You're just like Sasuke," Sakura accused, stepping into Kakashi's space. "You throw that word around so easily that it doesn't mean anything."

"I am nothing like Sasuke," Kakashi ground out, biting off each word. Icy numbness and burning anger surging through him in turns.

Could Sakura honestly believe that Kakashi would say something like that to make her feel better if he didn't mean it? That he'd make up a lie to help her forget the stupid boy who had never loved her or protected her the way that she deserved? Sasuke had always been more empty words and broken promises than anything else. Kakashi had broken only one, one that he made to himself months ago.

It would be easy to cross the line now, everything was falling apart anyway. Kakashi could pull Sakura back against his chest and show her how inadequate words were. Except, he couldn't bring himself to do so. He's already said far more than he should have, more than he ever thought he'd have the opportunity to say.

Sakura looked up at Kakashi through teary lashes, eyes red and puffy. She didn't speak at first, didn't respond to the venom in his voice. Then, she challenged him with her stare. "Did you mean it?"

The hope in Sakura's voice made Kakashi ache and his lungs clench. "I can't-."

Before Kakashi could finish his thought, Sakura scoffed and turned away. HIs hand caught her wrist, gentle enough that she could pull free if she wanted to. Then, a voice that sounded so much like Kakashi's spoke without his permission. "You deserve more than I could ever give you."

Sakura exhaled and leaned in enough for Kakashi to feel the residual heat from her body against his. Her hands came up and brushed Kakashi's cheek, pulling a soft sigh from his throat. Emboldened, she hooked her fingers in the fabric of his mask. Sakura paused at the whispered warning of her name, fingertips slipping away from the fabric, then asked, "did you mean it?"

Kakashi couldn't deny the truth, not with those brilliant green eyes shining up at him. "Yes."

Rising on her tiptoes, Sakura pressed her lips to Kakashi's, the fabric of his mask between them. The tentative brush made his knees weak, especially when her hands slipped down to his shoulders. Closing his arms around her felt like the most natural thing in the world as the room tipped around him.

Kakashi waited for some sign that Sakura felt the same, some indication that everything had changed, but she didn't speak. He took courage from the fact that Sakura didn't pull away at least. Kakashi raised one hand to trace the delicate curve of her lips and felt the shiver that raced through her body. He couldn't breathe through the fabric of his mask, so he lowered it.

Sakura's eyes remained squeezed shut when Kakashi lightly kissed her forehead. He whispered against the skin, hardly recognizing his voice. "I didn't mean to make things more difficult. If you don't feel the same, we can pretend like this never happened."

"Can we," Sakura asked Kakashi's chest, head dropping forward to rest against him.

When Sakura's eyes didn't rise to meet his, a swirl of anxiety twisted through Kakashi. His heart pounded hard enough to break his ribs when he hummed in agreement. "If that's what you want."

The words came easily, but Kakashi didn't know if they were true. He had only recently started to realize that the anger and fury he felt when Sakura talked about Sasuke went beyond friendship. If she turned away from him now, he would accept it, but things would never be the same. He feared what the kiss had done to their relationship, even as he longed to pull her closer.

Kakashi didn't push Sakura for an answer. He waited without speaking until she lifted her gaze. Sakura paused, taking in both the familiarity and foreignness of the face that she'd seen through a mask for so many years. Kakashi forced himself to smile like his entire life wasn't hanging on her answer.

Sakura's hand came up a second time, tracing the bare skin. It took every ounce of self control that Kakashi possessed not to pull her tighter. Then, with aching slowness, she rose to kiss him. Colors exploded behind Kakashi's eyelids at the warmth of Sakura's lips against his. The curve of her body beneath his hands, the touch against skin so unused to it-everything left the room spinning.

They parted slowly, just enough to draw a breath but Kakashi couldn't stop the way his head tipped back toward Sakura's. He tasted her breath on his lips and almost crossed the line a third time. In that instant, he knew that he would never be able to go back to just friends. This moment, no matter what came from it, would be cemented in his memory forever. He would never be able to look at Sakura without remembering the soft curl of her hands in his shirt or the pattern of freckles he'd never noticed across the bridge of her nose.

After a moment, Sakura let out her breath in a whoosh that made Kakashi's knees weak. Then, she looked up and smiled so beautifully that it made his heart skip a beat. "I want to know if it's ever more than empty words."

A dozen flippant replies rose in Kakashi's throat, but he quieted them at the memory of what drove Sakura to his arms in the first place. None of his replies would have been enough to convey the depth of what he wanted to say. He raised one hand to brush her cheek, then slid down to tilt her chin. Sakura sighed when Kakashi met their lips together a third time, a breathy uncertain sound that knotted his stomach.

For a moment, Kakashi felt trapped on the edge of a precipice with logic and safety on one side, the unknown spanning below him. He tightened the arm around Sakura's waist, pulling her closer as he surrendered to the dizzying emotions spiraling through his chest. If Sakura needed something more than words, he could offer actions.

Kakashi poured every ounce of withheld longing into his touch, dropping his walls in a way that he'd never done for anyone else. Sakura melted against him, every perfect inch of her body pressed against his. Kakashi threw himself over the edge and plummeted through the heartstopping freefall.

It took Kakashi a moment to realize that his hands had drifted low enough to lift Sakura from the ground, and a longer second to realize her legs were wrapped around his waist. Electricity pulsed through his body as he stumbled back toward his office until she bumped into the edge of his desk. Sakura's fingers tangled in Kakashi's hair, inviting him to follow her backward.

Bracing his palms on either side of Sakura's hips, Kakashi pulled back to gasp in a desperate breath. The space gave him the clarity that he needed. He wanted Sakura more than he'd ever wanted anyone else, more than anything. And, he knew that was the exact reason to stop, before he didn't have the strength to do so.

Kakashi leaned his forehead against Sakura's, surprised when she didn't object to the sudden stop. He drew another shaky breath before attempting to speak. "I don't want this to be tangled up in your relationship with Sasuke. I don't want to be the one you run to when it's bad only to have you promise me that everything's better the next day. I don't want-"

Sakura pressed a finger against Kakashi's lips. "I know."

Darkness poured through the windows behind Sakura when Kakashi turned his gaze toward them. She drew him into a gentle kiss that held only a flicker of the earlier fire. "I don't know what to say," she confessed in a soft whisper that made bile rise in Kakashi's throat. "I never expected you to say these things, I never knew that I wanted you to say them."

The woman glanced away, a blush coloring her cheeks as she continued. "I just-can we take things slow? I don't want any of the things you mentioned either, but I know that I don't want to leave this room not knowing if I'll ever feel this way again."

"What are you saying," Kakashi questioned, leaning more weight on his hands. He would take whatever Sakura gave without a hint of disappointment, at least until she left. Only then would he allow himself to feel the pain. He braced for the truth, that she wasn't ready for more or that she'd just gotten caught up in the moment.

Sakura raised a hand to run her thumb along the scar that had taken Kakashi's original eye, tracing the path the mask normally hid. He fought the urge to pull away when she followed the curve of his cheek, and turned instead to lightly kiss her palm. The blush on her cheeks deepened. "I'm asking you to dinner later this week," Sakura finally answered.

Kakashi couldn't stop the chuckle that rose in his throat. None of her words even remotely suggested that, but he wanted it enough not to care. "Only if you'll allow me to walk you home tonight." The corners of Sakura's lips pulled down, but Kakashi quickly added, "just to the door, I promise."

Snorting softly, Sakura nodded and Kakashi offered a hand to help her jump down from his desk. Fire scorched through his entire body at the connection but he forced himself not to react, especially when her fingers threaded through his. By the time they'd reached the street, Sakura pulled away and walked beside Kakashi like she'd always done. But, he couldn't shake the thought that nothing would ever be the same again.

[forbidding-souda]

Hi!! If its okay could i get Mondo, Sakura, Kazuichi, and Kaito with a short S/O (Think 4'11 to 5'0) who's the SHSL Florist? Bonus ponits if you you give me their reaction to their S/O giving them a large bouquet of flowers as a gift? NB pronouns if that's okay!

Mondo Oowada, Sakura Oogami, Kazuichi Souda, and Kaito Momota with Short SHSL Florist S/O

‘Bonus’! How cute is that :D /pos

Also your taste in men is iconic yes our minds - I DID NOT MEAN TO MAKE THE KAITO ONE TWICE THE SIZE AS THE OTHERS BUT I LOVED THE IDEA

Also also I use the word bumblebee bc once I thought of it I thought it was really cute. Bc get it?? They are small and also flowers yeah <3

Do I get ten points now? =D

-Mod Souda

Mondo Oowada

He thinks you are like a little bumblebee.

So nice and small! Adorable.

Short jokes all the time.

He definitely thinks flowers are a little lame.

But is definitely impressed by your knowledge of them!

So when you pile together a purple toned bouquet, you’re honestly a little curious on how he would react.

Or if he would even react at all. Does he know to put them in water? Maybe these should be your flowers too.

The roar of the engine is a comfort noise. So when it abruptly stops outside, you can just feel how the butterflies hatch in your stomach.

So you travel to your almost garden in the guest room, picking up the bouquet. It still looks beautiful. That’s good. Admittedly, you do get quite impatient at times.

Ah, the front door! And his welcoming voice telling you he’s home. How nerve-wracking. Your whole plan has a lot of questionable details, but as long as the response isn’t negative then what’s the harm in showing him your love?

“Mondo!” You call out with a bubbly tone before walking down the hallway searching for where he might be.

Your boyfriend, who you are terribly unimpressed with, lays slumped on the couch, tired from the heat. 

Again, you speak, interrupting his decline into sleep. “I made you these!”

He opens one of his eyes. “You got me flowers?”

A bit of heat crosses your cheeks, and you squeeze them harder. “I thought maybe you would like them.”

“Of course I fucking like ‘em,” he says while sitting up. His think fingers brush against yours when he takes them from you. “These are some cute ass flowers.”

Cute ass flowers. How romantic!

Sakura Oogami

She can give you piggy back sides whenever you want and likes to carry you around.

Definitely lets you put flowers in her hair.

Flowers in her hair sounds so cute I am crying.

A part of her actually is jealous of your talent. She wants to know everything about flower patterns, too.

And so she listens every time you explain things.

You pick together the pinkest flowers you can, trying to make it as aesthetically pleasing as you can rather than focusing on intent.

A few white roses find themselves in the batch, too.

The shop around you is cold. The layers of warm clothes aren’t going to help you when you go outside.

But the flowers always need special things that are not convenient for you.

While you contemplate whether or not you can leave clothes here, the bells attached to the door ring out.

A customer! Or maybe Sakura is here to bring you lunch. 

You pop your tiny head towards the main shop, looking left and right. 

She holds a styrofoam box in her hand, holding god knows what meal. 

Horrible for the environment, by the way, how embarrassing.

“Sakura!” You exclaim. And then it surprises you. You got so excited over something as simple as seeing her.

Even in the way your heart pounds at her soft eyes.

“I brought you a meal,” she says. You dip into the back room, and she follows your lead.

But before she comes through the door, you offer her the flowers, almost shoving them into her face. “Flowers!”

“Flowers... What a thoughtful gift, thank you very much.”

She looks nothing more than flattered. Her face usually sports a content look, often a light flush on her face, so seeing her smiling so wide feels special. 

“Oh,” you snap yourself out of your admiring gaze, “and thank you so much for the food!”

Kazuichi Souda

Kazuichi is definitely the sexiest man alive when he’s working on a car. His jumper will be tied around his waist, his hair slicked back.

He never wears his beanie when he’s working. It’s probably the best thing about him.

I just wanted to get that out of my system.

You like to surprise him whenever he’s working. Even though he doesn’t mind the work, you’re sure he’d have a better time being together with you.

The optimism is definitely appreciated.

Especially when it’s easy to scare him. You’re tiny and he gets over concentration. Just sneaking under the car and grabbing his ankle is your favorite.

But for Valentine Day, you didn’t want to be cruel like that. 

So while puffing your cheeks, you hop on downstairs, carrying a bouquet of different shades of yellow flowers. A few pink ones are thrown in for his hair. 

And so you approach him, trying your best to shrink yourself even shorter.

You don’t even know what he’s doing. What do cars need when they get fixed? A new engine? Something about a gas tank? You have no clue.

But whatever it is, it takes a lot of hard work.

And it’s your job to distract him.

You are almost an arms distance away until, and it scares the shit out of you, he immediately turned around screams as loud as he can.

The flowers run too close to slipping from your fingers. God, that was about to be the worst day of your entire life.

Before anger can crack through your demeanor, the sense of humor the both of you have came back. So you started laughing, placing a weary hand to your chest.

You were laughing because you noticed his hands holding a plastic container of sweets. 

“Ah, you nut head!” You call out. “I got you flowers!”

“Why did you get me something? You were supposed to come and scare me!”

Kaito Momota

You hum underneath your breathe while you pick together the best array of flowers you can. Purples and dark colors, just for him.

The moon shines through the school’s window. With the dorms downstairs, every night has became a game of who is going to catch you this time?

Every night you’ve been sneaking up to the garden, trying to raise these flowers just for this occasion.

For the last few months, all you’ve ever wanted was to be with Kaito Momota, Luminary of the Stars!

And now is your time to impress him! The flowers are all ready!

You wrap them together in green tape. The trembling of your hands makes the job quite difficult. And then the white ribbon to top it all off, but you have to take a deep breath while wrapping it.

There’s no backing out of this.

The fight to continue raged on while you walk upstairs, going up the many of them. It gives you time to think.

To think about how much you love him.

Horribly sickening how much you love him. His positive outlook on life motivates you all the time. If you ever feel like giving up, you just remind yourself that Kaito Momota wouldn’t want you to!

The door to the roof is unlocked, as you assumed. No - as you knew. You’ve watched him climb up here every day when he first interrupted your gardening. “I’ll be up on the roof whenever you need me, I tend to go every night.”

You never forgot about it.

Pulling open the door comes with a click. A pang of anxiety rings through you. But why? Should you really be sneaking if your intention is for him to notice you?

He lays on his jacket, arms behind his head and one of his feet crossed over his knee. And he pipes up when he sees you.

“Bumblebee! It took you long enough.”

The flowers in your hands don’t even cross his mind until after he stands up. There’s a nervous blankness as your expression. 

When he steps closer, he can even see the way your pupils dilate. “Are these flowers for me?”

It feels as if your words are trapped inside your mouth. He’s actually in front of you, towering, and flattered. So you shove the flowers against his chest.

Your body feels like it’s in front of a fire.

“I grew them for you. And I tried to make it look like space, you know? With all the dark colors.” You whisper. 

He smirks with satisfaction that only he could portray. To say he is proud is an understatement. You have always been obvious about your interest in him. It was just a matter of when you would gain the confidence to make a move. That’s why he invited you to join him on the roof all those months ago.

Still, he looks a bit smug. But that doesn’t last long, as his face falls to contentment as he turns back around. “Come, come.” He beckons.

You follow him up to his jacket, where he places the flowers down. His eyes are cast upwards, at the sky. You follow his gaze.

How can he gaze up for hours? It’s almost unbelievable. 

You sigh. “Can you explain to me - woah!” 

His arms grip onto your thighs as he lifts you up. The lack of struggle terrifies you, in more than being in the air.

“Kaito, what are you doing?” 

“Look up at space! Tell me what colors you see.”

A small noise escapes your lips. You relax a bit, accepting your position while placing your hands on his shoulders.

What colors? There are a lot. Not exactly the purple you thought it was. Maybe a dark blue, light blue, too. 

You haven’t thought about what color space is.

“Blue.” Is the only word you let yourself say.

He lets you down slowly. “Blue is a good answer. I’d like to think space is every color - Eh? Why are you looking at me like that?”

You blink, once... and maybe a dozen more times. “No reason, I just like you.”

[kalimagik]

Hide and Seeker

James Potter x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: This is my super late submission for @nebulablakemurphy​‘s 500 writing challenge! I hope you all enjoy it! Happy Reading <3

Prompts: “Be you because no one else can” and “Let’s run away together.”

The blood was pumping through your veins, the adrenaline flowing just as fast. You wanted this spot. You deserved this spot. Ever since Gryffindor’s seeked graduated the previous year, you knew you wanted his spot. You wanted to be the first female seeker Gryffindor ever had and you would be damn good at it too.

The leather gloves that your dad had purchased for you fit perfectly, they sculpted to your hand. Your broom handle was polished and ready to go. On the pitch, it wasn’t too hot and it wasn’t too cold. It wasn’t raining, the wind was just a slight breeze, and the sun was shining. Perfect flying conditions.

“Y/N? You play quidditch?” a cocky voice questioned, walking up beside you.

“James,” you nodded politely, “I do. I’m trying out for the open seeker position. Are you just here to watch tryouts? You’re one of the chasers, yeah?”

“I was one of the chasers actually. I’m trying out for seeker as well.” You stomach sunk at his words. James Potter had been on the quidditch team since second year as a starting chaser and now it was your 5th year. He was talented, athletic, and competitive as hell. If he wanted this seeker position, he wouldn’t give it up just because you wanted it.

“Oh.” You wanted to play it cool. “Why did you want to do that? Aren’t you one of our best chasers?”

“We have a very capable team” he shrugged, “And I was getting bored. I wanted a new challenge.”

Your thoughts were beginning to spiral now. You were going to get in your own way if you didn’t get into the air soon. Fortunately, the 7th year captain appeared before you needed to respond to James.

“Alright ladies and lads,” he held his hands on his hips, looking at the group of about 5 people who were trying out. “I am going to have you do some drills - weaving, diving, tracking the snitch, etcetera. Mount your brooms players!” You swung your leg over your broomstick as you had done so many times before and kicked off the ground.

Along with everyone else, you took a few warm-up laps around the pitch. Your mind cleared as the fresh air coursed through your lungs, bringing new life into you. You forgot about the potions exam looming in the next week. You forgot about the argument you had with a friend the day before. And you forgot about James Potter trying out beside you. There was nothing but you, the pitch, and your broom.

Diving, weaving, stopping, and even formation flying were all easy for you. You felt as if you easily surpassed nearly everyone with your skills - everyone but James. He was just so good. You shook your head, focusing on the captain as he opened his hand, a golden ball sitting in his palm.

“Everyone come in and get some water. The snitch is getting a ten minute head start. I will be releasing it 3 times. Catch your breaths.”

You chugged a bit of water, not feeling extremely tired from the tryout, but you knew you needed to be at the top of your game for this next part. “You’re flying fantastic out there,” James breathed heavily smiling in your direction.

“Thanks,” you shrugged, not wanting to lose your mind again.

“Are you ready for this next part? That bugger can be bloody difficult to catch,” he chuckled, moving a little closer for the conversation. “Just between me and you, I think we’re the only two really in this competition,” he laughed, a spark of competitiveness hinting in his eyes.

“I don’t plan on relenting if that’s what you’re saying,” you gave him a small smirk, excited about the fact that he noticed how determined you were feeling. .

“I would never expect that from you. Besides, I want to wink fair and square,” he winked, quickly mounting his broom when the captain blew his whistle. “See you up there,” James called, already zooming across the pitch. You set your face with a look of determination, flying after him and hovering over the ground, circled around the captain.

“There are three snitches on the loose. Three snitches and 7 of you. Come back with a snitch and you’re one step closer to being Gryffindor’s seeker. Get seeking.” Another blow of the whistle and 7 potential seekers are off. Only you and James flew higher into the sky. He obviously also knew that a seeker needed to get a better vantage point in view of the entire field.

You whipped around, flying in slow circles. That’s when you saw it. A shiny, speck of gold - the snitch. You dived immediately, focus set on the golden ball. The wind whipped around you as you picked up speed. And then you felt the presence of another person - James.

“Gotta be faster than that, Y/N!” he laughed pulling ahead of you. Damn him. You looked forward again, the snitch was gone. Merlin! You almost had it!

You huffed, rising back above the pitch to begin your search again. James rose beside you.

“Let’s run away together,” James smiled dreamily, obviously off his rocker. “We could just take these brooms and go now.”

“Shove off, James,” you rolled your eyes.

“I can’t, Y/N. If I knew how good of a quidditch player you were, I would have gotten you to join the team years ago and then we could have just fallen in love,” he shrugged on his broom.

“Bugger off James. We’re in the middle of a tryout!” There was that flash again, but James seemed to see it first. He was taking off at a pace that doubled yours. You struggled to stay even just a few broom lengths behind him.

The snitch was so close to you, but James was closer. The snitch was in his reach and he got it. “Better luck next time, Y/N,” he winked, returning to the ground as you soared back up one more time. You could see James triumphantly returning to the ground.

“Get out of your head. Common, Y/N. There are two snitches left. Just get the next one.” You shook your head, forgetting about James before searching again. You hadn’t even seen another player trying out dive for a snitch, so you still had time. Of course, you weren’t worried about them. This was your time to shine.

You turned your head quickly, a soft beating hummed next to your ear. You looked just as the snitch took off towards the pitch. You followed it closely, extending your arm. You could feel the tiny breeze coming from its wings. Just a few more centimeters and...IT WAS YOURS! You caught the second snitch!

Your feet touched the ground as you proudly handed the snitch to the captain. “Good job, Y/L/N. You have a second tryout. Hit the changing room. I’ll send you a note about the date and time for the next tryout. Good job.”

Nodding, a small smile on your lips, you grasped your broom and went to get out of your quidditch robes. You did it. Now only two others would stand between you and the position.

-

You received your note the next day. Only three more days until your second tryout, that gave you plenty of time to prepare. You were on your way back to your dorm after getting some time out on the pitch when you heard the voices in the hallway.

“Can you believe Y/N Y/L/N is still trying out for seeker even though James Potter is?”

“What is she even thinking? He is obviously the best choice for the team.” You could hear the venom in their voices. “Plus, he is so fit!” she squealed.

“Isn’t he?! I heard that she came in second to him in nearly every event. She is probably just trying to get attention or something, honestly!”

Your lip began to quiver. People tried out for the team all the time, why was it any different for you to do it? One of the girls began starting to talk about it again, but you were running in the opposite direction, tears beginning to flow down your face.

Other footsteps were falling in step behind you, but you didn’t want to stop for whoever it was. You didn’t stop until you hit an empty, abandoned corridor. Sliding down the wall and onto the ground, you just let the sobs out into your hands.

Another person slid down next to you, their shoulder resting against yours. You couldn’t bring yourself to look up. It was embarrassing enough that you were crying in a hallway, but even more embarrassing that someone had caught you.

“You alright?” James’ voice spoke softly and not in his usual cocky tone.

“Do I look okay?” you spat at him, not meaning to come off so rude.

“What happened? You don’t have to talk about it, but I’ve always found that it's easier to move on if I do.” The boy pulled his legs closer to him, holding onto his knees as he sat beside you, not being loud and obnoxious.

You wiped your tears, hoping that snot wasn’t running down your nose. “Just these girls. They didn’t even know I was listening, but- but,” you didn’t feel like you could go on. “Why do I even try?” you asked instead. “I may be determined and competitive, but they’re right. You’re going to get the position. You’re a shoe in for it.” You sighed, getting ready to stand up, embarrassed enough about your outburst.

“Y/N, wait,” James spoke, still with a tone more calm than your own. “You shouldn’t listen to them. I’ve never felt the need to try so hard for something I want. You are good - bloody good.”

You could only stare at James as he spoke. You couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. “You’re messing with me,” you finally shook your head.

“No, I’m being serious Y/N. You keep doing what you are doing. Be you because no one else can do it.” James stood up before you could. He extended his hand down to you. “Let’s go back to the Common Room,” he suggested, “I need someone to put my ego in check,” he smirked, obviously trying to make you feel better. After contemplating for a moment, you took his hand, accepting his attempts to try and make you feel better.

-

You pushed the thought of those girls out of your head after that. James insisted on practicing with you before the try out. He claimed he ‘wanted to make sure his competition didn’t have any tricks up her sleeve.’ You never stopped laughing while you were with him. James seemed to know each little thing that would make you laugh.

Then, the day came. You were finishing your tryout. You listened to the captain as he spoke, looking at the other boy who was trying out. He was obviously nervous, glancing often at you or James. His feet couldn’t keep still, resulting in him bouncing up and down slightly on his toes.

James was on the other side of you and you allowed yourself to glance at him once. “You better not go easy on me because you saw me cry, Potter,” you warned, mounting your broom after the captain’s instructions. One snitch, that was the only shot you had.

“I wouldn’t even dream of it, Y/L/N,” James winked, unable to take his eyes off you. He was still staring when the whistle blew, causing him to have a delayed takeoff.

You zoomed around the field, even going outside of the stadium to see if the snitch had escaped. Unlike the first tryout, James wasn’t right beside you the entire time. It seemed that he had his own strategy this time.

Inhaling deeply, you cleared your head. Nothing else mattered except for you, your broom, and that snitch. It was just you and it now. Nearly 15 minutes passed and no one had caught a glimpse of the other snitch. You were beginning to get frustrated, you thought someone would have caught it by that point.

Another lap around the pitch seemed in order. You knew this would be tougher than the last tryout, but you’d hope to show your skills off a bit more. Maybe dodge a bludger here and there. A few people sat in the stands and the rest of the Gryffindor team was below, running drills, still a chaser short despite James’ decision to switch positions.

You observed the team, moving as one unit. The beaters were accurate with their bats. The keeper’s eyes took in the entirety of the field. And the one chaser - who wasn’t the captain - ran an agility course with the beaters. You wanted to be on this team so badly.

Only by watching the team, did you catch the snitch flying alongside the bludger. That tricky little thing. You immediately pointed your broom towards the ground, driving for the snitch. You didn’t care about the bludger that threatened your figure as you soared closer to the golden ball.

Looking around for a mere second, you saw James also diving for the snitch. He was not going to beat you this time, you were certain of that. You leaned further even more, dangerously close to the top of your broom. One sudden move and you would slip off the front.

You looked over again. From what you could tell, James was a few seconds behind you. He must’ve seen the snitch just moments after you. He was not your concern right now though. The snitch suddenly rose towards the sky, forcing you to pull up quickly and change course. The little ball was quick, but it was slowing down as it gained altitude, it was in your grasp.

The breath you had been holding in finally released when the snitch was wrapped in your fingers. You had it. You won!

Your smile was unmatchable as you returned to the ground. You held your hand out flat, the golden snitch resting in your palm as you presented it to the captain.

“Congratulations, Y/L/N, it looks like you are Gryffindor’s new seeker,” the captain congratulated you before jumping on his own broom and joining the rest of the team. “You start at our next practice.”

You were still catching your breath as you watched him fly away, a large grin set on your face. “Looks like I’ll be getting to play with you this season,” James smiled, landing next to you. “Great job!”

“Thanks,” you smiled, still breathless. “Not mad are ya?” you teased further.

“I don’t think I could be. That was a brilliant catch!”

“Thank you, James.”

“No, Y/N, thank you. I reckon we’ll have the best seeker Gryffindor has ever seen,” James winked, taking off his gloves.

“You think?” his words really touched you, until he started laughing.

“Of course! Under my direction, you’ll be the best!” he released a guttural laugh.

You rolled your eyes, scoffing, “Of course, thank you, James.”

“Hey, I’m serious. With my quidditch brains and your skills, you’ll just wow them!”

You laughed, walking towards the changing tents, thinking you were leaving James behind for practice. “Wait up, Y/N,” he called again, running a bit to catch you. “Why don’t we go grab a butterbeer to celebrate?”

You stopped, the grass still under your feet. “A butterbeer? But it's the middle of the week,” you furrowed your brows.

“I have my ways. What do you say? It's always important to bond with your teammates,” James pointed out.

You rolled your eyes again, thinking it over. “Fine, James. I’ll go get a butterbeer with you,” you gave in.

“Perfect. It’s a date. Let me get all pretty for you and then I’ll meet you in the corridor with the one eyed witch,” James winked before walking away.

You stood stunned, a date? “WAIT! James!” you called after him this time, “A date?”

“Oh yeah love, a date. Maybe I’ll be able to convince you to be more than a teammate then.” A cheeky smile was plastered across his face as he turned around and walked towards the castle. Looks like you were going on a date with James Potter.

[randomestfandoms-ocs]

Glee OC Masterlist

Name: Aurora Anderson

Story: Somewhere Only We Know

Face claim:  Kaylee Bryant

Love Interest: Sebastian Smythe

AO3 | FFNet | Wattpad

Summary: Aurora had always known that Andersons go to Dalton, she just didn’t think that she would be included in that legacy.  But after the incident at the Sadie Hawkins dance left she and her half-brother in the hospital, their father told them that Aurora would be the first female student in Dalton history, regardless of what she wanted.  Of course the Dalton Brotherhood had always been her family, and being with her closest friends was exactly what she needed, but when a spy shows up in their midst, she knows that her home is going to be changed forever.

Name: Abbie Hudson

Story: Brutal

Face claim: Savannah Lee May

Love Interest: Sam Evans

Name: Betty Fabray

Story: A Family Matter

Face claim:  Sabrina Carpenter

Love Interest: Sam Evans

Summary:  Freshman year of high school was supposed to be the start of the best years of your life, right?  That’s what Betty Fabray thought when she walked through the doors of William McKinley High School for the first time. It’s what she thought when she joined the Cheerios, it’s what she thought when she heard about a singing club, and it’s what she thought when she got accepted to the New Directions.  But then she got slushied, her position on the Cheerios was threatened, and her big sister was kicked out of their house.  Now Betty has no idea what to think, but between Sue Sylvester and Sectionals, no one is giving her time to figure out what she wants, other than to get her sister back.

Name: Christina Hummel

Story: Don’t Stop Believing

Face claim:  Laura Marano

Love Interest: Sam Evans

Summary:  Ever since their mother died, Kurt and Christie Hummel had somehow gotten even closer.  They did everything together; voice and piano lessons, dance classes, working in their dad’s shop, enduring the daily torture that was McKinley High, and, of course, joining glee.  But there was one thing that the twins didn’t agree on: Finn Hudson.  While Kurt saw him as their knight in shining armour, just because he offered them the barest hints of dignity while his friends tormented them, Christie saw him as just as guilty as the rest of his teammates, watching their endless humiliation and letting it happen.  Despite their polarizing opinions, the twins had always been able to look past that - to not let Finn Hudson come between them.  But when Finn joins the glee club, bringing even more jocks and Cheerios with him, their seemingly indestructible bond is going to be put to the test.

Name: Daphne Carter

Story: Anything Goes

Face claim:  Ashleigh Murray

Love Interest: Leon Elliot, Mike Chang, eventual Sam Evans

Summary: Daphne Carter didn’t miss Lima.  She hadn’t been there since she was five, back before she booked her first commercial and suddenly found herself as The Child Star of her generation.  And ten years later, starring on Broadway across from her best friend and dating one of the biggest up and coming rock stars around, Lima didn’t even crossed her mind enough for her to miss it.  But once the drugs and drinking that her parents had always chosen to ignore made her the front page of every gossip rag across the country, something had to be done.  Not for her well being, of course, but because addiction wasn’t profitable.  And that’s how Daphne Carter finds herself being shipped halfway across the country to live with her parents’ childhood friends, and being dragged into the McKinley High Glee Club.

Name: Delilah Puckerman

Story: Wish You Were Me

Face claim:  Vanessa Morgan

Love Interest: Sam Evans

Summary: Delilah Puckerman hadn’t actually wanted to leave her boarding school.  Of course, her expulsion hadn’t been a surprise considering what had happened, but being sent to public school?  Unfair and unnecessary, in her opinion.  But nobody cared what the crazy girl wanted, and she found herself sent off to McKinley High.  She honestly thought that things couldn’t get any worse, until she meets a boy named Noah Puckerman.

Name: Dylan Ayers

Story: Bet On It

Face claim:  Liz Gillies

Love Interest: Brittany Pierce

Name: Eliana Lopez

Story: Get It Right

Face claim:  Victoria Justice

Name: Faye Anderson

Story: Teenage Dream

Face claim:  Vanessa Hudgens

Love Interest: Sam Evans

Summary:  To any outsider, the Anderson twins had it all.  4.0 GPAs at Dalton and Crawford, lead soloists of their respective glee clubs, a big house in Westerville, and a celebrity brother.  They didn’t see behind the curtain; didn’t see the absentee parents, the lonely, empty house, or the brother who only texted a few times a year.  But Faye was happy. She loved her school and her glee club and her brother.  And then Blaine decides to go to public school, and her parents decide to send her to McKinley with him.  And although she loves her twin, and would do anything for him, she can tell that her teenage dream is about to become a teenage nightmare.

Name: Gilbert Hummel

Story: Anthem

Face claim: Casey Cott

Love Interest: Blaine Anderson & Sam Evans

Name: Jason Conwright

Story: All Or Nothing

Face claim:  Ross Lynch

Name: Jeanie Boyer

Story: Loser Like Me

Face claim:  Grace Phipps

Love Interest: Ryder Lynn, eventual Marley Rose

Name: Joy Schuester

Story: By Its Very Definition

Face claim:  Lili Reinhart

Love Interest: Noah Puckerman, Brittany Pierce, Mike Chang, Sebastian Smythe, eventual Sam Evans

Summary:  Joy Schuester knew what glee was - how could she not?  Her dad never shut up about the good old days, his glory years at McKinley High.  He even named her after something his old coach would say - by its very definition, glee is about opening yourself up to joy.  Big whoop, she’d never really cared.  Really she was just interested in cheer, drama club, and dancing around her room while singing along to Taylor Swift. But then her dad takes over the glee club and Joy has no choice but to join.  She expected the showtunes, the divas, and even her dad’s white guy rapping.  She didn’t, however, expect to fall in love, and she definitely didn’t expect to find herself caught in the middle of a war between her coach and her dad.

Name: June Harris

Story: All Rhodes Lead Home

Face claim: Hailee Steinfeld

Love Interest: Jesse St. James

Name: Kendall Pierce

Story: Songs Of The Heart

Face claim:  Meg Donnelly

Love Interest: Mike Chang

Summary: Maybe it was her age.  Maybe it was the special Pierce… intelligence.  Maybe it was just that she was a better person than most students at McKinley High.  But whatever it was, Kendall Pierce didn’t understand why she couldn’t cheer and sing.  She didn’t understand why Quinn Fabray was so insistent that she not join Glee, or why the New Directions were so suspicious of her “intentions”.  She loved to sing and she loved to cheer, it should have been simple.  But when Quinn Fabray suddenly joins the club, with her sister and Santana in tow, Kendall starts to realize that nothing about high school is as simple as it seems.

Name: Lilibeth Anderson

Story: Untitled

Face claim: Olivia Rodrigo

Name: Logan Hayes

Story: Dream Maker

Face claim:  KJ Apa

Name: Luci Meadows

Story: Maybe This Time

Face claim: Maia Mitchell

Name: Marilyn Pillsbury

Story: Life Can Be Beautiful

Face claim:  Madelaine Petsch

Love Interest: Brittany Pierce, eventual Quinn Fabray, possibly Quinn Fabray & Sam Evans

Summary: When Marilyn Pillsbury was ten, her mother died.  When she was twelve, her dad was arrested.  When she was thirteen, she moved in with her aunt Emma.  And when she was fourteen, she started at William McKinley High School.  And she was nothing but the weird guidance counsellor’s weird niece.  But then, after a fateful encounter with three Cheerios in the girls’ bathroom, Lyn finds herself being dragged into the spotlight. She becomes a Cheerio, she’s hot and popular and the school loves her, she’s everything she ever wanted to be.  And when Quinn joins the glee club, Marilyn is right beside her with Brittany and Santana; finally she can do what she really loves without fearing the consequence.  She’s on top of the world, life is beautiful.  And then she finds out that Quinn is pregnant, and she has to make a choice.  Will she seize the opportunity to rise to the very top, or will she stay loyal to the girl who brought her up from the lowest of lows?

Name: May Taylor

Story: All Rhodes Lead Home

Face claim: Hailee Steinfeld

Love Interest: Mike Chang

Name: Paige Callahan

Story: Light Up The World

Face claim: Zendaya

Love Interest: Mike Chang

Name: Robyn Conwright

Story: All Or Nothing

Face claim:  Olivia Holt

Name: Roxie Flores

Story: The Greatest Star

Face claim:  Camila Mendes

Love Interest: Noah Puckerman, Sebastian Smythe, eventual Sam Evans

Summary: Rosalind Flores was used to living in Quinn Fabray’s shadow.  Quinn was the head Cheerio, even though Roxie was the better cheerleader; Quinn got the boys, even though she had a stick up her ass; Quinn had the friends - lackeys, even though she treated them like dirt.  And then Mr. Schuester takes over the Glee Club and Roxie sees a refuge from her life as Quinn’s understudy.  And it’s great.  Sure, Rachel is as obsessed with being number one as Quinn, but Roxie loves to sing and she’s really, genuinely happy.  It’s everything she hoped for; it’s perfect.  And then Quinn Fabray walks into the choir room and Roxie’s sanctuary collapses around her.

Name: Savannah Evans

Story: Rumour Has It

Face claim: Dove Cameron

Love Interest: Valeria Ramírez

Summary: The first thing that the Evans siblings learned when they moved to Lima was that rumours spread much faster than they did back home.  The second thing that they learned was how to lie.  And lie they did.  They were just three siblings; their financial struggles were because of their dad’s job; they absolutely most definitely didn’t have another sister who’d been in the hospital for as long as they’d been in Ohio.  And everyone believed them.  Right up until Rachel Berry sees Sam hugging some blonde girl outside of a motel and drags the entire glee club on a witch hunt that ends with them meeting the Evans siblings in their motel room.  All of the Evans siblings.  Even Savannah, Sam’s twin and best kept secret who, rumour has it, it about to start at McKinley High.

Name: Valeria Ramírez

Story: Rumour Has It

Face claim: Sofia Carson

Love Interest: Savannah Evans

[fanpom-imagines]

Being Spider-woman and being part of the Titans whilst also having a rivalry with Jason.

Masterlist

Fandom: Titans

Words: 2192

Warnings: like two cuss words

(Female Reader)

I swung my legs back and forth as I sat on one of the many billboards in the city. With my mask pulled up just up to my nose I took another bite of the burger I was eating. Looking across the streets I gave out a happy sigh and took another bite. As I was about to take another I stopped as I felt my senses tingle.

“Enjoying the food?” Came a voice from behind me.

Turning around a spot a man in a black and blue suit covering him head to shoulders with his eyes covered with a domino mask. I finally mask eye contact with the stranger and take another bite of my burger and hold eye contact with him as I finish chewing and swallow.

“Who are you?” I ask him as I bring my hands down, with the burger, to rest in my lap.

“Nightwing.”

“Spider-woman,” I said before turning back my eyes to the view and picking up my milkshake, taking another sip from it.

“I’ve seen what you do, and what you can do with your abilities,” Nightwing started as he came to sit down next to me, “and I’ve gotta say I’m impressed.”

“Thank you, I guess,” I told him as I gave him a sceptical side eye.

“Look I’m not here to fight you or anything, I’m actually here with an offer.” My ears perked up at that and I looked over to him encouraging him to continue.

“I have this team, of sorts, a lot of times they’re more like family to be honest, but anyways they have abilities, like you. And I’m guessing that you know that society and people with abilities that seem to defy logic don’t really mix well,” I have out a small puff of air at that and took another sip of my shake, “and so I help them. Not just with their abilities, but to have a better life than the one they’re living and to give them a chance to help people.”

“You asking me to join?” I ask him, looking at him once again.

“Yeah, I am,” Nightwing said as we made eye contact. Well more eye contact on my side as you couldn’t make out my eyes through my mask.

I pondered over the offer for a second as I broke eye contact and looked forward staring off. Still feeling Nightwing’s eyes on me my thoughts start to run. Thinking of the benefits of having a team, and the downsides rushing in and out creating a tally system.

“If it doesn’t work out can I leave?” I asked him after a few minutes of contemplation.

“Door will always be open for you to leave or join,” he said simply.

“Ok,” I said, “I’ll take your one week free trial.”

“Good to hear,” he said getting up and making his way to the edge of the billboard. Not getting up I still keep sitting and finishing my meal. Realizing this Nightwing turns around to look at me.

“Aren’t you coming?”

“Let me finish my food first.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Guys, this is (F/N) (L/N) a.k.a. Spider-woman,” Nightwing, or Dick Grayson, as he later introduced himself told the rest of his team.

“Hello,” I gave a slight wave to the group of four standing in front of me.

In front of me stood four other teens or young adults. One was a boy probably in his late teens or early twenty giving me an awkward, friendly grin as he gave me a slight wave. He also had green hair which oddly did not seem dyed or look like a wig. There was a pale girl standing next to him who also had the same hair situation, but hers was purple. There was also this red gem in the middle of her forehead, but she also seemed kind as she gave a kind smile. Next came a boy who seemed to be in his early twenties with brown hair sticking out in different directions and his arms crossed over his chest as his eyes studied me, as if trying to analyze my weaknesses. Then last was another boy who also seemed to be the same age as the other two, he was the tallest of the four and hand a red Superman symbol on the chest of his black shirt, but other than that he seemed to be normal. To be fair tho I don’t look out of the ordinary either and I can stick to walls.

“Oh my God, I’ve seen you on YouTube!” The green haired male said in excitement as he took a few steps to stand in front of me and greet me. “Hi I’m Garfield, but just call me Gar,” he greeted as he gave out his arm for me to shake it which I gladly did.

“Hi Gar,” I reply.

“That’s Rachel,” He turns to point at the girl.

“Gar I can introduce myself,” the girl says playfully rolling her eyes as she comes up to me and shakes hands with me. “Hey, (Y/N), I’m Rachel, good to finally have another girl on the team. The testosterone levels were getting too high in this place,” she jokes as I chuckle a bit.

“How do we know we can trust her?” Came the voice of the one with the brown hair as he still didn’t take his eyes off me.

“Jason, I know that what happened with Rose may make this hard, but we need to learn to accept others onto our team. We can’t let one bad experience automatically disqualify anyone new from joining,” Dick replied as Jason scoffed and left the room.

“That’s Jason, there was a girl who joined our team awhile back who ended up-“ Rachel was cut off by Dick.

“Rachel,” Dick told her in warning.

“Anyways,” Gar continued as he motioned for the boy with the Superman symbols to come closer. “That’s Conner, but he’s like a newborn...kinda,” Gar trailed off trying to look for the right words.

“What?” I asked as I looked from Conner to Gar in confusion.

“We’ll explain later,” Rachel said as she grabbed onto my arm and rugged me out of the room. “Now come on let me give you a tour.”

“Let us give you a tour,” Gar said as him and Conner followed.

“Yeah, whatever,” Rachel replies.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been almost a year of being part of the Titans, and honestly it was amazing. I have been looking for a place to live to finally move out of Aunt May’s, though she says I can live with her as long as she wants. I wanted to relieve her of having to take care of two rather than just herself. So now having the opportunity to live in this place with the rest of my team who also double as my roommates is a pretty good deal, plus it’s not too far away from home. So I’ve been able to sling by Aunt May’s a couple of times for a visit.

Being with the Titans has been great. Dick’s been like a father always looking out for me and the rest of the Titans. He also cooks for us a lot which is honestly great because all I can really make are eggs.

Rachel has been like a sister slash best friend. Her and I have hung out a lot and I could see she was glad to finally have someone who was a little more alike to her, not just in gender, but in experience. As both of us struggled at controlling our abilities at first and both have negatively affected our family members, though hers is a bit more extreme than mine.

Gar and I have been binge playing video games staying late up just smashing away at buttons. Good thing I brought over my Xbox as ten two of us played online with each other as we screamed into the microphone at one another.

Conner was sweet and I learned that he was actually a clone, a fucking clone! Honestly to me that was super cool which he didn’t seem to understand, but appreciated nonetheless and I’ve enjoyed showing and teaching him new things.

Jason on the other hand, well he had to warm up to me. Apparently the last new recruit actually ended up betraying them and Jason had a thing for her, so his slight hostility and distrust in me was completely understandable. Yet, overtime as we became closer he warmed up to me and we became friends of sorts. Although, him and I have this playful rivalry going. We literally made everything between each other into a competition. Who can take down the most bad guys? Challenge accepted. Who can get back to the tower the fastest? Challenge accepted. Who can do more pull ups? Challenge accepted. Who can fold their laundry faster? Challenge ducking accepted. But with this friendly competitive relationship between the two of us also came some attraction towards the newest Robin, and honestly I don’t really know how to deal with it so I’ve just been keeping my emotions on lock down till by some miracle he reciprocated.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I grinned to myself as I crawled on the ceiling looking down at Jason. Slowly I made my way closer and closer to where he was training with his metal staff as he swung again as he let out another breath. As he faces away from me giving me time to jump down silently onto the ground behind him and jab at his right knee pit causing his leg to bend and for him to fall forward.

“What the hell?” Jason yells as he ends up falling into a kneeling position as he has one hand on the floor. He uses it to push himself back up and turn around to swing at me.

Blocking one of Jason’s blows with my hand I move to jab my fist into his abdomen to push him onto the mat. Not expecting it, the new Robin fell to the floor with a loud thud. I gasped out thinking I may have used my super strength to knock him back and made my way to him to make sure he was okay. However, in a sudden movement Jason took the staff and put it behind my neck to trap me to the mat with him.

“Where are your Spidey senses now?” He grinned up at me as he flipped us over on the floor with him on top with both hands still wrapped around the cool metal of the staff.

“Shut up,” I groaned, punching his side lightly. He chuckled at my “attempt” of getting out of his hold.

“You know you’ve been getting the upper hand in this rivalry of ours at every corner, but it seems like for once I’ve got the upper hand. I think I deserve a reward,” he grinned down at me cheekily.

“Oh, and what would your reward be?” I questioned him with a raised brow.

“This,” right as the words left his lips he leaned down to capture his lips with mine. My eyes widened for a millisecond before I smiled into the kiss and closed my eyes whilst pushing my lips back on his. Jason let go of the metal staff and instead led his hands up my throat to hold my face as he deepened the kiss. Biting my bottom lip he swiped his tongue on it right afterwards and I groaned in response before opening my mouth to allow him entrance with his tongue. I in turn had my arms trail from his side one fisting his shirt to pull him closer while the other going up into his hair to slightly tug at it, eliciting a groan from him.

“Are you two serious?” We heard a voice coming from my right and his left. The two of us pull apart, me panting on the floor and him sitting up straddling me whilst also trying to catch his breath, and we both whip our heads to the voice to see Gar standing there with his arms crossed. “Jason you literally asked me to come and train with you.”

“Whoops,” Jason said as he looked back at him giving me a wink before standing up and offering me his hand. Gladly accepting it I grab onto his hand and he pulls me up. “Sorry Gar, kinda loses track of time,” Jason told him, not even taking his eyes off of me.

“I’m sorry ‘bout this Gar,” I said turning to the green haired boy and giving him an apologetic smile. “I’ll see you guys later then,” I told the two before walking out of the entrance opposite of where Garfield entered from.

“Really dude? Why did you have to come in? It was just getting good,” I heard Jason complain at his friend before hearing him pick up the staff and take a whack at Gar which in turn solicited a yelp from the other boy.

“Ow, what the hell, Jason?” I heard from Gar followed by another whacking sound and another yelp from Gar.

[mothercetrion]

First Snow

Summary: The first snow of the winter season is always the best, especially when you have someone else to enjoy it with.

Characters: Nightwolf, Fujin

Word Count: 1836

here’s some fujin and nightwolf playing in the snow! enjoy!! this was so much fun to write :)

———

It was early winter when the first snow of the season fell upon their home. It was nearing a foot of snow, thick and heavy; it was clear that it would likely prevent Fujin and Nightwolf from leaving their home to do much of anything. But honestly, that was okay.

Nightwolf loved winter. He loved the snow. He loved the feeling of a cold wind on his cheeks, the sight of blinding white everywhere he looked outside. Snow days were always a lot better with someone to enjoy them with. Who better than the love of his life?

Fujin woke to find Nightwolf already awake. He was standing by their shared closet, picking out winter gear to take on the first snow day of the season. He already had on thick pants and thick socks, but finding the perfect coat seemed to be complicated.

“Nightwolf, my dear… It’s a bit early to be worrying over your attire, hm?” Fujin teased.

Nightwolf turned around to face him, and Fujin was delighted to see him glowing with excitement. Grinning from ear to ear, he looked like a child about to enter a candy store. “Do not tease me!” he replied. “You know how vital a good coat is. I need good mobility to get around, good thickness for warmth… Lots to consider.”

Fujin sat up in bed, stretching his arms with a smile. “I understand. We have all day to make the most of the weather. No rush.”

He climbed out of bed and greeted his boyfriend with a hug from behind and a sweet kiss. He then went into the bathroom to get ready for the day. When he emerged, he saw that Nightwolf was fully dressed to take on the snow. He decided on a burgundy coat that he had gotten as a birthday gift the year before, and he opted out of a hat. Fujin couldn’t help but chuckle at him as he strung up his boots. His evident excitement was something that made Fujin happier than words could describe.

Nightwolf was a rather serious individual. If he felt excitement or happiness, he kept it on the inside on nearly all occasions. He was a very level-headed individual and showed his emotions as seldom as possible to maintain that image. But when it came to the snow and winter days in general, that calmness went out the window. The kiddish glee that filled him when he saw even a single snowflake was more than enough to make up for his lack of joy at anything else. The very first time that they spent time in the snow together, Fujin sincerely believed that something was wrong with him. It was simply so uncharacteristic for him to act in such a manner. But he soon learned that snow was one of the few things that caused him to step away from that level-headedness demeanor. Fujin fell deeper in love with Nightwolf’s smile; it continues every winter season.

Fujin decided on thick pants and a coat from Raiden for his winter attire. He opted out of a hat, and he abandoned a braid for a simple ponytail down his back. The decision of his outfit came sooner to him, and he was ready within ten minutes. The pair walked together out of their bedroom and grabbed gloves from a hallway closet. Once they were on, they exited their home to take on the snow.

They were momentarily blinded by the sun reflecting off of the snow. Nightwolf scurried into the snow before his eyes adjusted, too excited to stand in the doorway.

It was still snowing, but it was light flakes that hardly added to the snow on the ground. Everything outside had a layer of snow on it. The snow completely hid the gravel path from their home. There wasn’t a footprint from animal to human to be seen. Everything was serene and peaceful.

Nightwolf’s footprints soon covered the yard. He ran over to a tree and gently shook its branches, grinning as the snow fell from it and hit him in the head. Fujin stepped out of the doorway and shut the door behind him. He laughed aloud at Nightwolf’s excitement and joined him in the snow. “It’s rarely so heavy for the first snow of the season,” Fujin mused.

Nightwolf nodded. “It is. It’s usually a dusting, but this is so much better!” He lowered a gloved hand to the ground and picked up a wad of snow, and he tossed it above his head. He let out a laugh as it disappeared into thin air, falling around him as dust.

Fujin stepped under the tree to stand next to him, and he brushed some of the snow off of Nightwolf’s coat with a loving smile. “You’ll be freezing by the time we go back inside.”

“So? It’ll be fine!” Nightwolf shot him a grin and picked up more snow, and he threw it above both of them. The snow that landed on his head disappeared into Fujin’s hair, and Nightwolf noticed immediately and laughed. “Your hair hides the snow!” he said.

Fujin smiled. “A perk of silver hair… Your hair makes it painfully obvious.”

“Good thing I like it that way then.”

Nightwolf moved from under the tree to another part of the yard, having to high step to get anywhere. Fujin followed at a slower pace, enjoying the sight of the snow-covered foliage and hidden areas.

He, too, enjoyed the snow, though nowhere near as much as Nightwolf did. Fujin enjoyed the serenity that came with heavy snow; it was as though Mother Nature had stepped in and erased any evidence of life at all, replacing it with a world of peace. Fujin loved just sitting out in the snow with a cup of hot chocolate, watching as rabbits scurried across their yard and as birds landed on snow-covered branches. His hectic life as the God of Wind seemed far less hectic when there was snow on the ground.

Fujin’s admiring of the snowy scenery was interrupted when a snowball hit his chest.

In false surprise, he looked up at Nightwolf, who was several feet away and kneeled behind a newly-formed mound of snow. Despite the obvious, he wasn’t looking at Fujin; he was looking at a nearby tree, casually whistling as if he was an innocent bystander. Suddenly, he looked back at Fujin and to the snow on his chest. He was fighting back laughter. “Hello, honey! Did you get hit by a snowball?” he asked. “Must’ve been pretty big… There’s lots of snow on your chest!”

Fujin shot him a devious smile. “Oh, yes. I must say, I am rather surprised that anyone would dare challenge me in a snowball fight.” He kneeled and quickly formed his own protective mound.

Nightwolf was grinning. He reached behind his mound and started forming snowballs, maintaining eye contact with his boyfriend. “And why is that?” he asked.

Fujin prepared several snowballs in his hands and winked at Nightwolf. “The wind can carry snowballs very far.”

With those words, chaos ensued. The two of them threw snowballs at the other at lightning speed, both of them hitting the other several times with their snowy weaponry. Their activity continued for several minutes. Both of them laughed every time the other got hit, and even when they got hit, it was all in good fun. Their cheeks were red with both laughter and the cold, but they did not hold back in the slightest from their joy.

Eventually, their lungs grew tired, and Nightwolf laid slack against his mound, trying to catch his breath. He was still smiling. “Honey!” he called.

Fujin leaned around his mound, quirking a brow. “Do you accept defeat?”

“Begrudgingly so.” Nightwolf rose to a sitting position and brushed his damp hair off of his forehead. “You are a valiant opponent. Damn your winds!”

Fujin rose to his feet and joined Nightwolf behind his mound. The snow was harsh against his bottom when he sat down, but he was used to it quickly. “You were just as challenging, Nightwolf,” he said. “Your bravery will be noted for all of eternity!”

Nightwolf smiled and smacked at his shoulder. “You tease me.” He moved closer to him and grimaced when his bottom hit the snowy ground. “Will my frozen ass be noted too?”

Fujin giggled and grabbed his boyfriend’s gloved hand. “Of course. I will write it down first.”

It was Nightwolf’s turn to laugh. He leaned over and rested against Fujin’s shoulder, and he let out a content sigh. “This day has been wonderful. It’s only just begun, but I know it will continue to be blissful.”

“Any day with you is this way, my dear.” Fujin kissed the top of his head and moved an arm around his back. “I always love seeing you so happy.”

“You’re too sweet.”

Time passed in comfortable silence, both of them taking in the scenery and enjoying the other’s company. The wind soon began to blow, causing both of them to shiver, but they stayed put. Neither of them wanted that moment to end.

Eventually, however, Fujin knew that Nightwolf was cold. He removed his arm from his back and rose to his feet, reaching down a hand. “You are trembling from cold. Let’s go inside and have some hot chocolate, hm?”

Nightwolf glanced up at him, frowning. “Not yet.” He grabbed his hand and climbed to his feet, gesturing to an undisturbed part of the yard. “Can we do snow angels first? It’s tradition!”

It was a tradition. He was right. Every time that they spent a day in the snow, they both made snow angels side by side in the yard. It was one of Nightwolf’s favorite snow activities, and seeing how much bigger Fujin’s snow angel was made them laugh.

Fujin smiled. “Of course. How can I forget?”

Hand in hand, the two walked to the untouched part of the yard. At the same time, they chose their locations and fell on their backs. The snow was hardly gentle on their backs, but they didn’t care. The two moved their arms and legs to form their respective angels, moving slowly to get the most of their movements. They finished quickly and struggled briefly getting back on their feet, but once they were up, they held hands again and admired their respective angels.

“Your angel is huge,” Nightwolf noted.

Fujin chuckled. “Always is. I hardly know if it’s a good thing or a bad.”

“Bigger is better in this instance.” Nightwolf looked up at him. His eyes were sparkling in joy. “Now, let’s get inside. Your hot chocolate is always so good.”

Fujin lifted a hand to move some of Nightwolf’s hair from his forehead. He kissed his forehead, pouring every ounce of love in his heart into that gentle kiss.

“I love you,” he said softly as he pulled away.

Nightwolf grabbed at his hand and pecked at his lips. “I love you more.”

[imaginekpoplikethis]

Mixing it up sequel scenarios - TroubleMaker! Min Yoongi X reader - Part 2

Original Mixing it up story

Part 1 Part 2 - Here

———

You would never admit it but you were glad your friends had managed to convince you to join them at the arcade. It had been a while since you had even set foot in one, many fond memories filling you with immense joy and excitement for the evening.

Currently, you were situated at the dance dance revolution machine with Suhyun. Jimin, Hoseok and Taehyung were cheering for you both despite your poor display of stamina but nevertheless you were having fun.

“Grade C!? How did you beat me!?” Suhyun all but screamed from beside you, her heavy pants in sync with yours.

Suhyun had managed to score lower than you which truly was something you were not expecting. This didn’t deter your sudden smug attitude however, a smirk creeping on your face.

“I’m just that great y’know. Hey, I got an idea. Loser should buy slushies.”

You were met with a glare at your suggestion.

“Normally you say that before the game takes place. That’s just unfair.”

Despite stating this, she had already begun walking towards the snack bar.

“My turn! I want to go up against Hoseok!” Taehyungs undoubtedly loud voice cut in suddenly, accompanied by Hoseoks chuckle.

“If crushing defeat is what you want, who am I to stand in the way of it?”

Hoseok stood in position, Taehyung beside him, and inserted two coins into the machine.

“I’m sure it would be fun to watch Tae lose to Hoseok but we still haven’t played anything together.”

An arm slid around your waist and Yoongi pulled you closer to him, his eyes scanning the arcade for a suitable game.

“And what do you suggest?”

“How about that tomb raider one?”

At the other end of the room was a giant shooting game, an image of Lara Croft smack right in the middle.

“Okay!”

At least twenty five minutes later and both of you had managed to reach the second last level before it all got too much.

These games were definitely a scam. You had never seen anyone win in your life.

“Well we make an impressive team. I feel like we were made for each other.”

Yoongi slipped an arm around your waist, leading you towards a racing game.

“And you have come to this conclusion because of one round of Tomb Raider at an arcade?”

He simply chuckled at your question, knowing it wasn’t a serious one.

“Y/N! The slushie machine was being fixed so it took longer to get them. I ended up just getting the first flavour available.”

Jumping out of Yoongis grasp, you cling onto Suhyuns arm, gratefully accepting the cold beverage.

“You’re the best Hyunie~ I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. Drinks on me at the café!”

You both began in the direction of a claw machine, squealing at the sight of the Kakao plush toys.

“She abandoned me for a slushie and Ryan...”

Taehyung made a sudden appearance, clapping his hand on Yoongis back in sympathy.

“Honestly... I would to.”

A scowl formed on Yoongis face.

———

You found yourself in Yoongi’s room on a Friday evening, bag packed to stay the night and a Nintendo Switch to accompany you. Yoongi was sulking at his desk due to the lack of attention you had given him in favor of the game you were currently investing all of your time in.

“What game is it anyway. It must be godly if you’re ignoring me this long.”

Excitement filled your body at the interest he was displaying and you quickly showed him the screen of your switch.

“Animal Crossing!”

The confusion on his face prompted you to explain in as much detail as you could what the game was about, whilst also showing him the in game island that you had put over three hundred hours into.

By the end of your explanation he had gone silent and pulled his own switch out of his drawer.

“You have a switch? Since when? Wait-

never mind, the dust collecting on that thing is enough of an answer.”

You returned back to your five star island, gushing over the Takoyaki octopus Zucker and his aloof personality.

An hour later, the familiar sound of the iconic animal crossing language filled your ears, though not from your own switch.

Looking up in utter disbelief, you were met with Yoongis trademark smirk as he showed you his own screen displaying the beginning scene of the very game you were playing.

“You bought Animal Crossing!?”

“Well you were spending all your time on it, I wanted to see what that was all about. Plus it does sound kind of interesting.”

He rose from his seat and laid beside you on his bed where you spent the next hour running through tips for him.

“It’s three am.”

A yawn accompanied your statement and you moved to save your game, then turning it off and placing it on Yoongis desk.

“Huh... already?”

Said boy didn’t even lift his gaze from his screen, pure concentration was being devoted to the game.

“How are you still playing the game? Isn’t it still like your first day. There’s only so much you can do.”

“I time travelled.”

You were shocked to say the least. You hadn’t even mentioned the concept of time travel to him.

“You what!? How do you even know what that is?”

“I searched it up.”

Why am I not surprised.

“Are you going to sleep anytime soon?”

At this point you were struggling to keep your eyes open and you made yourself comfortable in his bed.

“In a bit.”

Rolling your eyes at his curt reply, you snuggled deeper into his covers.

“If you say so.”

When you awoke several hours later, it was to the sight of Yoongi playing Animal Crossing.

Rubbing at your eyes, your brows furrowed at the thought of him staying up all night to play the game.

“Wha- Yoongi... did you even sleep?”

He jumped at the sound of your sleep laced voice, clearly not expecting the sudden interruption.

“Uh, no? This damned raccoon is making me pay off my loans.” Cue his sheepish expression.

He was met with a blank stare.

“What kind of excuse is that? You’re not forced to pay it all in one day.”

He simply stretched out the kinks in his body before returning his attention back to the game.

“Doesn’t feel like that to me...”

An almost regretful sigh escaped your lips.

“Didn’t think you would enjoy the game this much.” His deep chuckle filled the room.

“Anyway Yoongi, I think you should put the switch down and sleep.”

He seemed to only then realise what the actual time was, surprise gracing his boyish features.

“Oh... yeah you’re probably right.”

I am right.

He looked up at you from beneath his lashes almost as if he knew exactly what you were thinking at that exact moment. Either way he chose to stay silent, a small smile growing on his lips as he saved his progress and shut down the console.

An obnoxiously loud yawn later and he had burrowed himself under his covers.

Your arm reached towards your own switch, intent on playing Animal Crossing when his arm quickly snaked around your waist, dragging you back into bed.

“Bedtime.”

“I-“

“Shhh.”

—————

Another day, another sleepover at Yoongis it seemed. It was the week after the animal crossing ordeal and you found yourself lounging around on your boyfriends bed. There was only so much animal crossing you could play before it got tedious which is why you found yourself watching intently as he played call of duty with the rest of the boys.

“Woah! Nice shot.”

He grinned at your praise, shifting positions on the floor and leaning his back on the bottom of his bed.

“You wanna turn?” A brief glance was shot your way before he swore under his breath, one of the boys having got to him in his split second of distraction resulting in the match ending.

Cheering on the other side of his headset could be heard from what seemed like Seokjin.

You popped another piece of cereal into your mouth whilst offering him the bowl.

“Hm, okay.” Handing you the controller, he gave the bowl in your hand a strange look and let out a huff of amusement.

“Look at you eating cereal dry at eleven in the night like a weirdo.” He grabbed the bowl and placed it beside him as you rose from his bed and sat on the floor, in between his legs. Grabbing the headset from his head, you placed it on your own and briefly greeted the boys. A chorus of hellos were returned.

“I think you’re the weirdo just because you’ve never done that.” A scoff was all your reply before the next match started.

“Done what?” Came Taehyungs understandably confused voice.

“Yoongi is giving me a hard time over eating dry cereal as a snack.”

You were met with hums before a short discussion broke out.

“I love doing that! It tastes way better at night.” You were thankful someone understood otherwise it would have been just plain awkward.

“I actually agree.” Jungkooks reply had you giving Yoongi a look that conveyed ‘i told you so’. An eye roll was your response.

“What? Cereal was made for breakfast how can it taste better at night?” Hoseok was quick with this input.

“I don’t want to hear that from someone who puts chips in their ice cream.” You choked on your saliva at Seokjins statement, the evident disgust making it all the more amusing.

“Yeah, that’s gross.”

“How can you do that?”

“Wouldn’t the salt melt the ice cream?”

The boys began mumbling their agreements whilst Hoseok stuttered.

“Huh? Why are you all suddenly switching onto me?!”

You simply chuckled as the countdown for the match began and everyone focused their attention towards the upcoming fight.

From then on there was minimal talking, save for the ocasional directions and groans, and for the next ten minutes a surprising amount of concentration was poured into the game from both you and Yoongi. By the end of the game your team had won and you handed the controller back to Yoongi, a giant smirk on your face.

“I-“

“No.”

“Okay.”

Despite the opportunity to gloat being ripped away from you, you still sat basking in absolute pride at your performance. As you were preparing yourself to make his way back to his bed, You felt his arms wrap around you and lock you in place without a word spoken as he played with the controller in front of you. His chin was placed on your shoulder and you didn’t dare move, not one to reject a loving embrace.

This is how you spent the next half an hour, watching match after match of Yoongi playing before exhaustion caught up with you from the long school day.

You would have probably tried to crawl into his bed but the warmth his body was exuding was too comfortable and so you found yourself shifting to your side and curling up in a ball, head resting on his chest as you felt your heavy eyelids close.

The last thing you remember hearing was the muffled voice of Namjoon giving orders through his microphone and Yoongi stroking your head affectionately.

———

[elopez7228]

Scenic Route 43/47

Read on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268208/chapters/43229774

Start over : https://elopez7228.tumblr.com/post/620919089893933056/scenic-route-0147

***

Earth Soldiers HQ, July 9th, 11 PM

Rey didn't know how to react when Leia hugged her. She didn't have time to dwell on her discomfort: BB8 ran enthusiastically into the old woman’s arms, jumping up to lick her fingers.

Leia crouched down to pet her affectionately, scratching her head and giving her a few belly rubs while cooing soft praises in her ear.

Rose made a face that didn’t escape Rey’s attention. She was obviously waiting for the right moment to speak up.

A bell rang and the blonde woman walked over to the intercom near the door. She asked for the password, pressed a button. Leia straightened and smoothed her dress. Rey held her breath; who were we waiting for?

Another ring.The door opened to reveal another woman carrying…boxes of pizza? Rey raised an eyebrow. The place felt more like a dorm room than a headquarters.

Behind the woman stood yet another person Rey didn’t recognize: a man with a sharp blue eyes that pierced his worn face. His cheeks were concealed by a greying beard, one that matched his equally drab grey clothing. Leia walked over to him and kissed his cheek gently. Then she pulled out a chair and motioned for him to sit down.

The pizza girl placed her bounty on the table, sweeping aside what looked like yesterday’s leftovers to make more room for the pile of boxes before greeting the rest of the room with familiar warmth.

Rey still stood stiffly in the middle of the room, not daring to move.

Leia Skywalke finally spoke.

“Rey, this is my brother Luke Skywalker, our lawyer Amylin Holdo, and our heads of staff, Kaydel Connix, and Rose and Paige Tico. We’re so happy you and BB8 were able to make it. I realize the trip was rough and that you were attacked by FORCE on multiple occasions. I want to sincerely apologize on behalf of the team, we endangered you in the name of our cause and we had no right to do so. But you’re safe here, and I'm so glad I trusted you.”

Rey pursed her lips. So Leia didn't know anything about her failure, about the damaged chip. She wanted to cry.

Rose had no trouble holding back her feelings, her face fuming as she walked over to her superiors.

“Leia, Rey betrayed us, she’s been sleeping with Kylo Ren this whole time! I saw them. She was late because she even spent the night with him. And the microchip is fucking broken!”

Rey blushed violently. It was all true. She had nothing to say in defense. She looked down, waiting for the tidal wave of anger, the insults and curses that they would inevitably throw at her. But she heard nothing.

Slowly, she looked up to find Leia standing in front of her. She took her hand gently, her gaze soft and her lips curling into a hidden smile.

“Rey’s mission was to bring BB8 back to Luke in San Francisco. And that's exactly what she did.”

“I don't understand,” Rose whispered, nearly flinching away.

Leia released her hand and turned to the other women. Rose, Paige, and Kaydel stood speechless, waiting for an explanation. Amylin and Luke were far more interested in the pizza.

“I owe you all an explanation, and an apology,” Leia began. “The chip in BB8’s collar was a fake. Only Luke, Amylin and I knew that. I'm sorry for the inconvenience, Rose. You did a great job. Thanks for picking up Rey in Nevada.”

“You can count on me,” Rose nodded, her face pale, “but I don't understand. Where's the real microchip?”

“In a silicone capsule, implanted under BB8's skin. Our vet, Dr. Kalonia, will be making a minor incision to recover it. Rey’s job was to protect my dog with her life, and that's precisely what she did. The other chip was just a diversion—and a useful one too, if I understand correctly.”

Rose gasped, suddenly spinning on her heels to walk out of the room and making sure to slam the door behind her.

Rey understood her anger. They’d lied to Rose, had hidden the real plans from her as if she was another pawn and not a ranking leader. Rey would‘ve been shattered too. She suddenly felt a lot of empathy for the young woman, barely stopping herself from running to comfort her. She wasn't sure her company would be welcome. Paige took care of it and disappeared into the hallway behind her sister.

Leia fed BB8 a slice of pizza, watching as she swallowed it greedily.

“What am I going to do now?” Rey stammered.

“Your mission is over, you’re free. You can go wherever you want,” Leia replied calmly. “I'll pay you the other five hundred dollars.”

Rey shook her head. She wasn't an Earth Soldiers agent, Kylo Ren's mercenary, or anything like that. She didn't want their money or their drama—she wanted to go home and curl up in Ben Solo's arms.

“I don't want your money,” she bit out. “I’m not one of your toy soldiers.”

Leia raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile on her lips. “What do you want, then?” She asked demurely.

"Your son. His freedom. The end of this stupid family tragedy. Nothing you could possibly ever give me,” Rey thought.

“Stick around for dinner,” Leia suggested in return, though she wasn’t insisting. “And if you want, I can get you a hotel room in town until you leave. When’s takeoff?”

“Sunday night,” Rey answered. “And I wouldn’t mind a hotel room. I can't stand the campsites and the mattress in the car anymore.”

“Consider it done. Kaydel will find something for you,” Leia agreed, nodding at Kaydel, who wordlessly took out her tablet again.

Dinner was silent. Rey mused that Luke Skywalker looked like a man worn down by fate and bygone years. He and his sister seemed to have lived a life of endless struggle. They must’ve been exhausted. This lawsuit against FORCE would be a deliverance...or a final judgment.

“Could I take BB8 to the vet?” Rey asked, “she saved my life. I'd like to make sure she's okay.”

“Of course,” Leia nodded. “Tell me, how is he?”

“He's better,” Rey replied without thinking, biting into a slice of pepperoni, “I worry about the rest of the—

She blushed suddenly, remembering where she was. She shrank under Leia’s amused gaze. “Wh—who are you talking about?” She stammered, feigning innocence,

The old woman didn’t answer. She reached over to Rey and gently pulled a strand off her face to slip it behind her ear. A tender maternal gesture.

“Does he smile?” She asked.

Rey’s throat tightened with an unnamed emotion as she remembered all of Ben’s smiles.

The lopsided grins he gave her before hauling her off to bed, the spontaneous upturn of his lips when he was able to pet BB8 for the first time, the resigned smirk when he’d let her braid his hair, the luminous smiles when he saw her in the distance, the triumphant ones when he made her come, the timid one when she told him that she loved him, the sincere one when he asked for kisses. He would beam at her tenderly when she woke up in the morning. She even remembered the little smirks he tried to keep to himself when he made her laugh, the ones that bloomed in full when he came in her arms and buried his face in her hair.

“Yeah,” she said. “All the time.”

“That's good,” Leia said, sitting up weakly. “It's very good.”

For a moment, Rey saw her eyes glisten.

That night, Rey didn’t stay at a hotel. The underground apartment that served as the activists' headquarters had two bedrooms and a living room, all of which had been hastily transformed into workspaces with the addition of  desks and computers next to the furniture and couches. Rey was offered a place on one such couch, and a blanket. She fell asleep listening to the whisper of conversations in the next room. Some of the others didn’t sleep at all.

In the morning she was awakened by loud voices and the smell of freshly brewed coffee.

Her feet dragged her into the living room where she was greeted by an enthusiastic BB8 (with tail wagging at full speed) and a brooding Rose Tico.

Rey shrugged internally. She understood the girl's resentment, but honestly there was nothing more she could do. She hadn't destroyed the real micro-SD. What was her heinous crime—loving Ben Solo? If so, she pleaded guilty with her head held high.

After giving BB8 a few belly rubs, she went to find the coffee machine.

The crew was clearly not in a good place. Their pantsuit-clad lawyer was in the middle of a hushed conversation with Leia, who in contrast wore a long flowy dress and heavy bangles.

In an unexpected turn of events, Kylo Ren had hired his own “last-minute defense attorney”, as Amilyn put it.

“At this stage, no charges will be brought against him personally. Only against FORCE, for corporate misconduct. We’re still aiming for Snoke.”

“But he will be implicated later in the proceedings, he’s not stupid enough to ignore that,” Leia said finally. I think we should accept a tête à tête.”

“Frankly, I'm not sure.That would prejudge our intentions for the trial. No matter what this Windu guy says, we should wait until the end of the hearing. For the principle alone, Leia.”

“Did you research this lawyer?” Leia asked, sipping her cup of coffee.

“Yes, he's registered with the Boston Bar. Mace Windu, he teaches at Harvard. That’s probably where Kylo met him. A prestigious lawyer, but very aggressive, with unorthodox methods. He and your son must get along. Which is precisely what worries me.”

“I want to do this.” Leia reiterated calmly.

“Leia, that’s unreasonable! The hearing is in ten days, Kylo will have plenty of time to make his own case, later. You need to stay focused on the here and now.”

Rey's heart was pounding painfully in her chest.    She blushed at the very mention of Ben. She hid her cheeks behind the coffee mug that she raised to her lips.

“Hello Rey,” Leia smiled at her. “We have an appointment at ten o’clock at the vet. You’re most welcome to join.”

“Okay,” Rey nodded. “Can I take a shower?”

“There’s a bathroom at the end of the corridor, to your left. I hope you have a towel because we’re no Hilton. You walk out the same way you walked in,” she chuckled.

“It'll be fine,” Rey smiled politely.

Under the hot water, Rey washed her hair carefully. She had left the living room mostly in order to escape the conversation that clearly wasn’t intended for her to hear. She felt like a spy again. Talking about Ben—or rather, Kylo Ren— brought up feelings that she couldn't put her finger on. She was upset, she knew that.

They only referred to him by this stage name. It was dehumanizing. Was it on purpose, to tell the difference between Leia Skywalker's son and their enemy, the boogeyman they were going to send to prison? Was he Kylo Ren in the courtroom and Ben Solo in the streets?

At least he hired a lawyer, that was a good call. He was taking initiative to protect himself from the oncoming storm.

Rey instinctively crossed her fingers. As long as he got out one day...

By the time Rey returned to the living room, Leia had prepared BB8 for her trip to the vet. Amylin reached for the car keys.

No one else was coming, and Rey fancied, with mixed feelings, that she was one of the VIPs now. Amylin and Leia took their places in the front and BB8, tongue slobbering and tail wagging as usual, climbed onto her lap in the back seat.

Rey gave her playful scratches and tickles now and then. They had both experienced a ton! Confronted a bear. Defeated a killer. Tamed Ben Solo’s heart. She’d found a real ride or die, for adventures and misadventures alike, in this adorable little orange furball. Rey felt her heart sink at the thought of leaving her soon.

London would no longer have the same appeal to her, now that she knew she was leaving her love and her dog behind.

She sat patiently in the vet's waiting room. The place reeked of bleach and disinfectant. Leia sat down next to her, her hands on her knees. Rey slouched in her own chair, somewhat deflated.

“Thank you,” said Leia, and Rey wasn't immediately sure that she was being addressed.

She looked up. “For the dog? You're welcome. Sorry I couldn’t bring the car back, I know it had sentimental value.”

“Oh no, it doesn't matter. Ben is important.  The rest is just...material.” Leia gave her a soft, knowing look, which touched Rey’s heart. “Thank you for making my son smile.”

She didn’t know what to say. What to say to this mother who permanently hid her broken heart under her warrior’s shield. How could anyone comfort her? Rey reached for the woman’s hand.

“I resented you. For setting me up. For putting me in danger. And then I met Ben and resented you for being responsible for him, and then…I got to know him. And I resented you for causing him so much sorrow.”

She had said these words, however harsh, in soft tones. Leia didn’t flinch.

“I know. I'm sorry that I was…such a terrible mother. I’ve spent my life leading troops in a war. Often I forget the people, under the uniforms. I’ve done a lot of harm to the people around me.”

“But I don't blame you anymore,” Rey continued. “I understand your decisions. And I love your son—exactly as he is. With all his flaws and his weaknesses. I hope one day you can forgive each other.”

“I hope you’ll be there to see it.”

Rey looked away. She was going to be out of their lives in a few days. She wasn't sure she would ever see them again, let alone if Ben would be convicted of the crimes. He would be stuck in prison if his lawyer Mace Windu wasn't phenomenal.

As she ruminated on their misfortune, the operating room doors opened. Rey stood up.

“BB8 is ready,” said Dr. Kalonia. “Here’s the chip, and here’s our good girl. Make sure to put the cone on her for a few days so that she doesn't lick her wound, which you should disinfect carefully morning and evening. My assistant will print out a prescription for you.”

Rey reached out and greeted the little dog, who was still a little groggy. She licked the girl’s face and Rey covered her with smacking kisses.

“I’ll miss you, old girl! Oh yes, I will! We've both been through a lot, haven't we?”

Leia had stood up behind her and absently read the prescription.

“Rey,” she said without even looking up from the paper. “BB8 seems very attached to you. Would you…would you like to adopt her?”

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

WhatsApp? Part 13. (Steve Rogers x reader)

Description: You’ve never been lucky with guys. You just wanted to catch someone’s eye, to be loved. One day, that’s about to turn completely - with one fake, completely imagined number a guy gave you

A/N: Enjoy, ma babes.

Warnings: Cap being the sweet fucking dork he is.

Word Count: 2.9 K

Tagging: @missdictatorme, @songforhema, @mikariell95, @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

Read the rest here: Part One  Part Two  Part three  Part four  Part five  Part Six Part seven  Part eight  Part nine  Part ten  Part eleven  Part twelve

If you like to have your readings in order :):  H E R E  

It actually wasn't God playing a solid prank on you as you thought in the first seconds when you saw his perfect-like face. Steve Rogers, the Captain America, was seriously the STEVE who you spent so much time online with. Your Steve, as you called him in a sweet tone.

It was such a weird feeling - you knew that face for years from posters and news, you’ve been even told about that man in your history classes. Focused on world war II. And that face was the face of the man who you grew to like so much. He indeed was a handsome man with beautiful eyes, handsome smile and white teeth. And his body was model like, you felt that Steve should persuade his career as a model.

The whole situation felt strange, dreamy and a bit unsettling at the same time, just like every meeting of your online crush or friend is. That little part of you couldn't really believe you have him by your side at that moment to share your thoughts with, to watch his expressions and to listen to the tone of his voice as he speaks or laughs. The other part was just straightaway obsessing about every single minute you're together, walking by each other's side, talking about nonsense. 

The other people who were walking around you just stopped for a minute and watched Captain America leading beautiful young woman by his side. They were talking about you, whispering and watching you; those who had some courage even took some photos of you.

But to you, this wasn't important at all. You felt as you clicked together. Steve was just great and incredibly handsome, he was curious about you, you could feel he cares about you. You knew that you could just sit for hours and watch his face and a big smile, while he will speak about total bullshit. He had his blonde hair perfectly cut just as every indication of his beard, his trousers, and the shirt fitted him perfectly just as the flowers - you kept telling yourself that he’s old school. 

“Shall we go?” - Steve offered you his elbow to catch with yours, so you could lean into him when you walked in those high heels. He was cautious about you not breaking your leg. Steve had to say that those high heels were only doing you good, your legs appeared longer, your hips were rounder. Steve would not say out loud that he saw your precious little bum - and it was rocking.

You nodded, reaching your hand to hold his elbow, and you still couldn't get over that shock. Steve Rogers. Captain FUCKING America. That shirt he had on was truly magnificent, it suited him and perfectly showed his waist down to his hips. And those jeans... Those were killing you. 

“So... That's who you are?” - You asked quietly and watched the profile of his face with a small smile on your lips. - “Is that why you so struggled to tell me? All this time?” 

“Basically. I don't know, maybe I was ashamed, maybe I was worried about you leaving when I’ll tell you. I just wished to be some random guy, someone normal.” - Steve said with his cheeks red, looking away from you. 

“Don't tell me you didn't want to lose me.” - You giggled. You both looked like teenagers, just giggling nervously because every word the other one have said. It looked sweetly, but the nervousness didn't let go at all.

“Something like that. Just say it out loud that I'm weird. But this is so all new to me.” - Steve looked directly at you and you looked into his eyes with a dreamy face. 

It all started to make sense all of a sudden. Why it appeared like he never dated before, why he felt so sweet and unexperienced - he was a man from the previous century after all. The man out of time. Personal tragedy and a national win. And about his work; most of it was classified. He couldn't just tell you. And to be honest, if he told you that he was a superhero, Captain America to be exact, you would think that he's loco.

“It’s not weird at all, Steve. I’m glad that you didn't run away when you saw me. I look like the biggest troll sometimes.” - You tried to joke, but Steve stopped you and look into your face with a frown. He was watching your face intensely for a while before you smiled again. - “What?”  

“I just think which part of you looks like a troll. Because I can't seem to see it.” - His thumb smoothed the curve of your face, caressing it slowly. At that moment, you couldn't tell if he's serious or not. You took a deep shaky breath and then when you tried to calm your heart rate down, you leaned into that touch. He was warm and smooth. 

“Okay, but we should go now. Or we'll not make it on time.” - Steve said in a whispering voice, caressing your face. He seemed to be mesmerized by you because you looked like a princess from a fairytale. Your hand circling around his palm woke him up from the trance. 

“Hey, we should go. Come on.” - You carefully took his hand to yours, slowly hugging his palms with your small fingers, nudging him to go forward, following you. - “And thank you for those roses. I've never got more beautiful ones.”

“Now you’re lying for sure. Boys surely were fighting for the privilege to give you a couple of flowers.” - Steve watched you with a frown but by the slightly teasing tone, you guessed he’s just joking around. 

“Oh yeah, they were just falling under my feet so they never had to touch the ground and so they weren't dirty.” - You told with too much affection in your voice. That made him laugh, which made everything tremble inside of you. - “I was basically a trophy which showed that they are the toughest around.”

“Yeah, I would say so. You're looking gorgeous tonight.” - He said shily. That made you smile even more. He truly was the man you hoped he would be. And he was even better. 

Steve has prepared a truly special dinner for you - he had a word with one of Tony’s friends and talked about renting a big place in one of the aquariums in the city. He managed to have the biggest one, the one with octopuses, huge corals, big and colorful fish, and those small and less dangerous sharks. You just stood there, watching the water being illuminated with some violet light.

There was a lonely table in the middle of the hall, with some food under the lids. With long, white candles all around that table - it looked almost Italian. You almost let the flowers fall down before letting Steve’s hand go, looking around you with awe written down to your face. Then you covered your mouth with your palm and turned to him, excitedly running directly to him and jumping into a hug. 

You didn't care at all that you were seeing Steve for the first time and that you never hugged each other before. You just laughed with your eyes watery, not believing your own eyes. 

“I don't know what to say. This is incredible! How did you make this happen? I'm not worth all of this, this must've cost a fortune, Jesus!” - You stepped back with your hands still around his shoulder, watching a huge octopus crawling on the glass.

“You.'e told me that you don't care about what food do you eat and that you're all about the atmosphere. So I really had to pull something off when I was hiding away for such a long time. This was the slightest thing I could do.” - His hand finally caught the small of your back. - “Are you happy?” 

“If I am happy? I’m taken away, I've got those beautiful red roses, I'm at this huge ass aquarium and I am with a man who I like...” - You stopped yourself at that moment, looking at Steve with a terrified look. - “I mean, uh. This is...” - You caught embarrassingly. 

“It’s nice to know that I’m not alone in this.” - Steve offered you his hand and took the flowers away from you, putting them into water. You stood in the back, fiddling with you palms nervously and smiling at the sight of that huge man nursing the flowers with gentle moves. He was sweet. Too sweet, to be exact.

“Come here, don't be shy.” - He waved at you and postponed the chair for you. You sat down and he helped you to get the chair under the table. Steve wanted to have the upper gentleman hand, so he poured you some champagne as well. You watched him with a dreamy look; he looked like a dangerous macho, but he was more clumsy and sweeter more than dangerous.

“Honestly, Steve, I have no idea how should I pay you all of this back.” - You said when he sat on the other side of the table. 

“This whole date didn't even start and you’re thinking about things like that?” - He smiled and took the lid out of his plate just as you did. It was truly some pasta with spinach, some cheese it seemed and meat. - “To calm your thoughts down, I will tell you that you’ll repay me if you would accept to see me again after this afternoon. Enjoy your meal.” 

You looked at him for another few moments through the candlelights with a smile and shiny eyes. For his eyes, there was no better view than you sitting with your hair down in that black shirtless blouse, lightened up only with candles and the water illuminating the lights around. Photos were nothing on your looks, just as the first time he saw you.

Steve didn't hesitate to make you laugh and he didn't care about that you almost spat the pasta out. This thing stayed with you since the first time he called you - he just adored your laughter. And seeing how your face lightened up when he made you happy... There could be nothing better than that. 

“Oh come on, you are lying, Steve.” - Your belly contracted in laughter as you watched his chin leaning into his entwined palms. The food was long after you, you only sat there and drank the, now warm, champagne. 

“I swear on my whole conscience that he truly did that. It was so embarrassing.” - Steve opened up about his part with Bucky and it just rolled out of his tongue. He could just talk for hours and hours if it made you laugh again and again. 

“I need to speak to Bucky about all of that. And we definitely should tell to Deena as well.” - You drank the last sip, not leaving Steve with your eyes. He was seriously handsome when he didn't control his expressions when he didn't know that he’s handsome at those moments.  

“We cannot embarrass Buck in front of his girl. He would not be happy about that.” - Steve said in a serious tone and looked at your face. You giggled and then nodded with a serious face.

“Why didn't I do this way sooner?” - Steve asked you seriously all of a sudden. Steve took his chance and caught your small hand in yours. He was shy in his gestures, that could be felt. 

"You like to ask this question a lot, don't you? That's obvious." - You giggled, being a bit drunk at that moment.

"Really? Tell me, then." - Steve teased you.

"Bucky wasn't telling you how amazing and breathtaking I even am. That's why." - You looked him in the eyes. Even someone who is completely deaf could hear that you're only messing with him. But he didn't even smile at that one.

"Yeah. That's what he was basically doing for the last two months while he was dating your colleague. I know why he was doing all of that and now I'm even glad that he was doing what he was doing." - Steve stood up and carefully took the flowers out of the vase. - "I think we can do something else tonight, what do you think about that?"

"I think that it sounds really exciting. I'm looking forward to that." - You got up with your tummy full of good food.

"That's the spirit." - He smiled widely.

Steve liked that you had an adventurous nature. You visited some places by the river, sitting at the benches and drank some coffee he had bought you. Nothing happened at that time you were together, you were just chilling and talking about all the things that have crossed your mind. When the deep night came and you got some chills, he covered you in his shirt and tried to warm you up in a hug from the back as you watched the water. He only stayed in his white t-shirt and his body wasn't showing any sign of being cold. He was as warm as a stove

You felt... Taken care of, you felt protected. You felt so warm from the inside as he protected you by his huge body, even when it did nothing against the cold. At least he tried to warm you up. His body felt like he's about to catch on fire any minute, so you had a proud smile on when you were inconspicuously nuzzling to the chest of the Captain America himself.

"Shouldn't we call a night? You're freezing." - The alcohol opened you up and you felt beautifully dizzy at that moment. You didn't have an idea that you weren't drunk at all, you were just in the bliss of happiness.

"No. I don't want you to go home yet." - You protested loudly with a giggle as you felt a hand crossing you're waist when Steve was shifting his weight on his legs.

"I don't want to leave you, don't worry. But what if I take you home and see you as soon as I can. Will that be alright, miss?" - He leaned his chin into the temple of your head. You had a feeling that if you wouldn't have such brutal goosebumps, Steve would not approach your body at any circumstances. He was a gentleman that he would be afraid if it wasn't too much for you to take for the first time.

Nobody knew it, and Steve wished to stay it that way, but he was a really physical person. He secretly loved to feel human touch, especially when it was a person who he felt affectionate about, someone who he liked. It was a miracle that he didn't purr as he held you in his arms. You were so small that Steve felt the need to hold you in his arms and to cover your body with his, which was so bigger.

"Promise?" - You said tightly, turning to hug him with your small arms. It was a tight hug, full of affection and warm feelings.

"That's definitely a promise, young lady. Now, let me take you home." - Steve slowly left off your body with a smile. He was emphatic - he knew that you'll be able to walk home because you already looked tired. Your feet on the high heels surely did hurt. So he caught you a taxi. In the end, you fell asleep on his shoulder with a tender smile on your lips. By the time you stopped at your apartment, you were soundly and loudly breathing, laying on his shoulder.

"Should I wait for you, mister?" - The driver looked at Steve when he was slowly figuring out how to get both you and the flowers safely out of the car without causing any damage. He held you in his arms tightly to let you know that he'll not let you go even when you were deeply asleep.

"Give me ten to fifteen minutes, have a cigarette and let the clock in your car on. I need to take her to her apartment." - Steve smiled at the man, taking the keys out of your purse. Steve took you to your apartment, to your bed and tugged you.

Steve loved your apartment. It was so small, yet it felt like home. You had so many photos of you and your friends all around, decored it all over with numerous small things. Your furniture was nice, modern, it smelled just as you did. You seemed to have a personal style, which he found cute. He watched you sleeping for a moment with a slight smile on his face.

He didn't want to leave at all, but he had to. So he leaned down to you, kissing your forehead lightly.

"I'm here now, you know?" - He sat down next to you, taking your palm to his, bringing your knuckles to his lips, knowing you can't hear him at all. - "I'm finally here and I swear to you that nothing will make me leave you from this moment. And old man's promise is the one you can count on."

[pastelwitchling]

This prompt is courtesy of @soclosebutyetsofar.

Hi there! I hope you’re doing alright ☺️ I have another prompt for you if you still accept them. If you decide to answer it, take all the time you want 😊 “Malex doing a cookery course together since they both suck at it” I imagine them being in a relationship for a couple of months when they decide they can’t live of take out food and baked beans for forever and will have to learn how to cook properly. Do whatever you want with it 💛

***

               “I don’t think we’re doing this right,” Michael said, pulling back from the pot immediately as the heat of the cheese burned his cheeks.

               “We’re doing it right,” Alex said, chopping shrimp behind him. “It says we have to simmer under the sauce and let it thicken before we add the noodles.”

               Michael sighed, one hand on the counter beside Alex, the other on his hip. “I have, like, ten inappropriate jokes in my head, should I make one?”

               “You can,” Alex said, smiling, before he reached over and kissed Michael’s cheek, sending a current of electricity throughout his entire body. “But I won’t be listening.”

               “Wasted humor,” Michael said, unable to help but mirror his boyfriend’s smile as he leaned back against the counter, his arms crossed. “You know, we could’ve just ordered Alfredo and been done with this hours ago.”

               “You can’t keep eating takeout, Guerin, it’s not good for you.”

               “I’ve been doing it my entire life, I’m okay with it.”

               “I don’t want you to be okay with it,” Alex said simply, finishing up and drying his hands with a paper towel. “And you don’t have to be. You have me now.”

               Michael tried not to think of the flutter in his chest as Alex so casually said that, as if it was obvious that Alex would be there to take care of him, that Michael was his now and that he protected what was his. Instead, he just moved close enough until his chest was against Alex’s elbow.

               “Now I have twenty jokes.”

               “Get away from me,” Alex laughed, lightly shoving him back, and Michael moved, biting his lower lip as he tried to keep his smile from widening. There was a time when everything he said had only made Alex cry. But there was no use thinking about that now because they were finally in a place when Michael’s words could only bring a smile to Alex’s beautiful face, and Michael wanted to treasure each one.

               “Is it because I’m growing a gut?” he asked, tilting his head. “You like me better with abs?”

               Alex gathered the shrimp in his hands, and moved them over to the pot, tossing them in and stirring the sauce slightly. He scoffed as he turned back, wiping his hands off, and leaned down to Michael’s stomach.

               He lifted the shirt slightly to kiss the hairy skin there, and patted it back down. “I love your gut. Makes you hotter somehow. It doesn’t make sense, but it does.” He stood, tilting his head. “You know?”

               Michael’s eyes fell to Alex’s lips and he licked his own. “Sorry, you kissed me and everything just kinda went blurry.”

               Michael leaned in, his lips inches away from Alex’s before Alex pulled back, laughing. “We can’t leave the dish alone.”

               “I’ll eat something else,” Michael said immediately, his hands coming up to Alex’s waist.

               “One of us has to be the adult here,” Alex put a hand on his chest, turning to the pot.

               “Does it always have to be you?”

               “Good question,” Alex said, though he smiled, amused.

               “We haven’t had sex in, like, fifteen hours.”

               “You counted?”

               “I’m having serious withdrawal, Alex!”

               “Shush, and give me the noodles.”

               Michael exhaled loudly as he took the colander full of noodles and handed it to Alex, watching as the airman emptied them into the pot and stirred. Michael’s eyes quickly rose from the pot to Alex’s face, watching as his brows slightly furrowed in concentration. His smile widened.

               There was nothing but the sound of the fire as it heated their meal, the leaves of the trees ruffling outside in the wind, the birds chirping as they gathered around the cabin – and Michael felt at peace. He struggled to remember a time around Alex that he’d felt anything else. The thought made him step closer to the airman, though Alex hardly seemed to notice as he turned off the fire and stirred the contents a few more times. Michael was glad for it. He wouldn’t have wanted to disrupt what they had right now, and even though every fiber in his body yearned to touch Alex, to feel his soft skin, his warm breath against Michael’s ear, his lips, there was a part of him that wanted nothing more than to watch the airman.

               “I love you,” he said before he could stop himself, but he found himself unable to regret a thing.

               Alex looked up, a brow raised, and he smiled softly. “I love you, too.”

               Michael hummed happily as he came behind Alex, wrapping his arms around his waist and hooking his chin over his shoulder. “What do you love most about me?”

               Alex chuckled, setting the wooden spoon down, placing one hand over Michael’s on his stomach. “Let me think about that.”

               “You need to think about it?”

               “Would it make you feel better if I just said, your ass?”

               Michael laughed, and kissed Alex’s shoulder. “Yes, absolutely.”

               Alex turned in his hold, wrapping his arms around Michael’s shoulders. “Let me think about that.”

               “Private, you—” but whatever Michael was about to say was cut off by Alex’s lips on this. Michael melted quickly into the kiss, holding Alex tightly against him, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

               Before things could escalate, Alex pulled back, his finger on Michael’s lips as Michael tried to follow him.

               “You know what’d be really hot right now?” Alex said as he brought his finger down Michael’s chin, down his neck, to his hairy chest.

               “What?” Michael breathed, and Alex leaned in close enough that Michael felt his breath fan against his lips.

               “If you set the table.”

               And with that, Alex turned around, pulled two plates out of the cabinet, and placed them in Michael’s hands, looking like he was about to laugh.

               Michael stared at them a moment, his lips pressed together, then, “Are you playing hard to get with me, Private?”

               Alex bit his lower lip, amused, before he pecked Michael’s lips. “No dinner, no dessert.”

               And by the way the airman was watching him, his eyes raking Michael’s body hungrily, Michael knew what kind of dessert he had had in mind. He used his telekinesis to levitate the plates and forks onto the living room table before he pulled Alex’s body to his again.

               “How long have you been waiting to make that joke?”

               Alex’s smile widened and he held Michael’s face, his hands warm on his skin, and Michael was suddenly grateful for the heat. “Annoyed I said it before you could?”

               “Like hell,” he breathed before he pulled Alex in, attacking his lips with his, swallowing the airman’s laughs.

***

I couldn’t imagine Alex not knowing how to cook. Honestly, he’s an airman, I expect he’s had to value physical fitness as he had spent so much time in the military. Not to mention the logistics of it. That cabin seems to be almost outside the town, I don’t think takeout is that easy to come by where he is. But Michael being bad at cooking, I could definitely see.

This prompt was actually pretty easy and fun to do, so thank you so much for it, and I really hope you enjoyed reading. Now, back to my Once Upon a Time binge. Nobody tell me anything about it - nothing! - but I will say, I’ve adopted Henry and he is my son. I am his mother, so I must return to him now. Have a good rest of your day, everyone! 💗

[elizabethemerald]

10 Years Later

To everyone who enjoyed my “Did the others know?” Question from the other day. Here is them finding out. It’s a lot less beating up the wizard and a lot more caring for the child who was hurt. I hope everyone likes it, or it makes you very sad. Please reblog just like you did with the other post! I want to make sure everyone who saw that sees this. 

Ten years. It was the ten year anniversary of the end of the war. The week had been filled with celebrations, speeches and toasts. Now at the end of the week, the heroes of the wars gathered for their own smaller celebration.

This was the date they all considered the actual anniversary of the end of the war. Not when the last wizard died, but when Jim and Claire finally woke up from their comas to be told the good news. 

Toby hadn't left their sides the entire week, sitting in the room they shared in his wheelchair. Aja had woken up a few days before the others. This was the day that they celebrated. The day of tears as the heroes were told about their victory, and what that victory had cost them. They celebrated with drinks and stories, laughs and more tears. 

Jim sat on the long couch in between two of his lovers. His mane was growing longer and he seemed even taller. To his left was Claire and his right Toby. 

Claire sat with several of her most powerful wards glowing in a circle around her. While she had finally stopped trying to hex Morgana into non being on sight, it was clear she still didn't trust her. Anytime Morgana looked her way the temperature in the room would drop or jump a few degrees. 

Toby sat on Jim's other side. His prosthetic leg sat on the coffee table. With his mastery of gravity the prosthetic was mostly for appearances, and no one here cared. 

On his other side was Darci. She held his hand tightly throughout the evening. Her belly already starting to show the baby bump. 

Aja and Krel leaned against the wall. She was in her human form, he was in his Akiridion form. The pressures of their daily lives often kept them in their other forms so here where they could relax they opted for the form they were so often denied. 

The various adults were sitting around the room as well. Barbara sitting with one arm around Morgana and the other around Zelda. Zadra would occasionally walk through the house and run her fingers through Barbara or Zelda's hair as she passed, though her focus was on security for the royals. Blinky, Aaarrrgghh, and Strickler sat around the dining room table. 

"I'm telling you, Gunmar was the worst." Toby was saying. The discussion of which villain was the worst was one that was still hotly debated even ten years after the end of the wars. They all politely refrained from mention Morgana, at least while she was in the room, though Claire had made her opinion on that clear. "After everything he did, Gunmar gets the biggest douchebag award."

"You don't have to tell me the awful things he did." Jim said. It was accepted that other than Aaarrrgghh and Nomura that Jim had the most first hand experience with Gunmar's cruelty and thus be taken as an expert in the matter. "But we all knew he was evil. His name was Gunmar the Skullcrusher!"

Toby and Claire nodded. Jim had made this argument many times before. 

"Merlin pretended he was a good guy, when really he only cared about his magic. He gets the biggest douchebag award." Jim paused and his eyes went a little distant, then his voice turned bitter. "Especially after what he did to me."

Several in the room reacted to the extreme bitterness in his voice. Barbara sat forward. Blinky looked hurt. Walter and Zelda made eye contact across the room. Jim seemed lost in his thoughts and didn't notice. Walter cleared his throat to draw his attention. 

"Young Atlas, I thought you had come to terms with your current form." He said. Jim looked up surprised. 

"Oh, being a half troll is great! I'm stronger, faster and a better fighter. Plus I'm closer than ever to my dad." Jim smiled broadly at Blinky. "Plus I can do this."

Jim flexed his arms, his custom tailored suit strained to hold his muscles form. Claire immediately blushed up to her ears. Toby swooned dramatically into Darci's arms. Even Aja had to take a deep breath. Jim smiled and quirked his eyebrows at his lovers. Walter struggled not to roll his eyes. 

"Then what are you talking about Jim?" Barbara asked. She was still concerned and her son's show boating wasn't going to distract her. "What else did Merlin do to you?"

Jim looked at her and then the others, confusion etched on his face. "Remember he refused to let me go to your rescue, beat me unconscious then tied me to a chair?"

There was several long seconds of silence. Glances flew across the room rapidly as everyone tried to process that statement. The temperature in the room plummeted. 

"He what?!" Claire shouted. The air crackled around her, her hair starting to float around her head.

"Did I never tell you?" Jim asked, his expression a mix between remorseful and incredulous. 

"Do you think I would have been willing to travel across the entire country with someone who had done that if I'd known?" Claire asked. 

Blinky immediately rose to his feet and moved to sit in front of Jim on the coffee table. 

"Master Jim...son…" he hesitated and looked to Barbara for help. She joined him on the coffee table.

"Jim, tell us what happened." Barbara said softly. She put her hand on his knee.

"Oh if you don't know, then I'll tell you later. I don't want to spoil the party!" Jim tried to put on a brave face. However, his voice still choked up and he had tears at the edge of his eyes. 

"Everyone here loves you Jim." Blinky said. "Please tell us what happened."

Claire and Toby pressed themselves against his shoulders to show their support. Jim took a deep shaky breath. And told them. 

Jim told them about his fear that Gunmar would hurt his mom. Trying to coordinate the search with Toby and Claire. Wanting to leave the house to help them search. How Merlin had stopped him. The fight in the house. Jim described the desperation with which he fought to escape so he could rescue his mom. 

By the time he described Merlin ripping the Amulet from his chest there wasn't a single dry eye. Jim telling them about waking up tied to a chair brought several sobs from his family. Merlin's describing Jim's choice dragged growls from a few of his guardians, including Aaarrrgghh and Morgana. 

Then came his trip into the bathroom. 

Everyone knew how they had found Jim. They knew the aftermath of what happened. But he hadn't told any of them his thoughts as he filled the tub, as he donned his armor for what he thought would be the last time, as he stepped into the black potion. 

Jim was sobbing, tears pouring down his face as he spoke. Toby was holding him tight. Claire had dropped some of her wards so she could be just as close. Aja had walked over and was leaning against the back of the couch holding Jim from behind. 

"I thought I might be dying!" Jim said. His voice broke their hearts. "Merlin didn't explain how the potion would work. I didn't know if I was going to come out on the other side. I didn't even know what was going to come out on the other side."

"When I woke up in that pond I thought I might be in the Void. I was barely able to stumble into the house."

"And then you had to travel across the entire country with the man who did that to you.” Barbara said softly.

“We had won, we had defeated Gunmar. I thought at the time that it was worth it.” Jim said, wiping tears from his eyes. “I tried not to think about what he had done, and when I did I thought it was my fault for not listening to him.”

“And the way he talked about you after.” Claire said, her eyes distant. “Not just before the Eternal Night, but after as well. On the road to New Jersey, anytime he was tutoring me in magic, he would talk about how he had “fixed” you. And he would talk about your life before like it didn’t matter, like your life didn’t shape you into the hero you are.”

“God if I was there I would have squashed him into goo.” Toby said, shaking in fury. He held out his and the collapsed handle of his hammer flew across the room. 

“Careful Toby!” Darci said covering her belly. 

“I am sure there are many things we would have done had we known.” Blinky said. “But the important thing is we know now. Jim is there anything we can do for you?”

“Other than constant reminders that we love you no matter what.” Barbara said. 

“Honestly that’s what I need the most.” Jim stood up from the couch as he spoke. He easily lifted Claire and Toby as they clung to his shoulders. Aja had to nimbly step over the couch as she held onto his shoulders. Barbara and Blinky both stood with him and embraced him. Jim’s soft sobs echoed in the house as one by one every person there came up and joined the hug.

Later, the “kids” were out in the back yard “sparring.” Barbara thought to herself that she had to stop them thinking about them as children at some point. They were her children, and she loved them all. Of course the sparring was really just playing around. The older crowd stood together in the kitchen. 

“That bastard is lucky he’s dead and buried. I have half a mind to dig him up and desecrate his corpse, for what he did.” Barbara had a death grip on the kitchen counter. “I did everything I could to protect Jim from the abuse I went through. And the person who we thought would be our savior hurt more than anyone else.”

Morgana held her close. “Merlin always was a bastard. He cut off my goddamn hand in my sleep.”

“He was constantly abusive towards Claire on our journey to New Jersey.” Blinky said. 

“And he hated me for being a changeling.” Nomura said, grinding her teeth. “Among many other reasons.”

Barbara sighed deeply. “Well whatever’s he done he’s long gone. Now we have to be there for Jim and kids. Make sure none of them are still hurting from the war.”

Barbara continued to glower as the other adults made their assurances that they do what they could to assist. The party returned to its celebratory nature. 

[theonceoverthinker]

A Tumultuous Embrace (1/5) (Golden Hook)

Summary: Captain Hook and Rumplestiltskin have wronged many a man in their days as villains, so many in fact that they’ve unknowingly overlapped on more than one occasion. What are they going to do when two of those cases want revenge and know exactly how to best take it? Now trapped together in a beyond compromising position, will Killian and Rumple be able to work together to fight against impossible odds and get home, or will their lingering hatred of each other prove to be their shared doom as they literally go down together?

AO3       Fanfiction.net

Dynamics Featured for this Chapter: Golden Hook (mentioned), Rumbelle (mentioned), Captain Swan (mentioned), Swan Beauty (mentioned)

Content Warnings for this Chapter: Assault 

A/N: This was supposed to be whump. It started from a freakin’ whump prompt! And don’t get me wrong -- the first two and a half chapters are a decently whumpy, but afterwards...well, you’ll see. But for now, enjoy this chapter of pure, slow burn whump (Yeah, I’m coining that term)!

Tagging @sherlockianwhovian, @black-wolf066, and @killian-whump! If you do (Or don’t, I promise I won’t be offended) want to be tagged in upcoming chapters of this fic, please let me know!

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

CHAPTER 1: A TUMULTUOUS BEGINNING

Nine times out of ten, the sound of the bell above Rumple’s shop ringing would have Rumple at the ready beside his shop’s front counter in a matter of seconds. Given how quiet his shop often was -- especially these days -- the noise it made tended to linger in the air for at least a couple of seconds after sounding off. At the very most, it would give him business, and at the very least, the company would serve to make his day more exciting and give him something to tell Belle about over dinner in between bouts of reacting to the literature leanings of Storybrooke’s citizens.

Yes, nine times out of ten, Rumple had every reason to see what goings on had just entered his vicinity and acted on it.

Today, unfortunately for him, was that all too rare tenth time. 

And even after the immediacy of the ring, Rumple was in no hurry to so much as pick his head up, let alone actually go to the front of his shop.

But what put Rumple in a state like that?

Well, as with everyone else in the world -- no matter the realm -- some days were simply better than others. For Rumple, today was just about as bad as it could get for him and he hadn’t the energy to deal with anything else aside from the immediacy of his body’s needs. 

And right now, that need was for rest was the most pressing, leaving him unable to do anything in the face of such an urgent instinct but relent.

The reason behind Rumple’s exhaustion, apathy, and moodiness came down to two matters.

First, Gideon, now deep in his teething phase, had several of his now quite common bursts of crying fits last night. Despite the ample supply of teething toys Rumple and Belle had on hand to satiate their son’s needs, few sustained Gideon for more than a few minutes at the most. 

He must’ve gotten his fickleness from his father. 

Knowing Belle had spent the previous night caring for Gideon at the cost of any energy she may have had the following day, Rumple took it upon himself to give her a well-deserved night’s rest. The results did wonders for his wife’s sleep schedule, but horrors for his. He thanked his stars his job was almost defined by how slow business often was because today, Rumple barely found himself able to do anything more than sit in his shop’s backroom and try not to crumple or tarnish any goods under a head that spent more time supported by a table than supported by his neck. Already, he had taken two unintended naps, though neither did anything to help him recover from last night’s trials.

But that first reason was a side effect of a decision that Rumple made of his own volition and truly, he knew that he had no one to blame but himself for it. 

The second reason -- the one that made him not only apathetic to the ringing of his shop’s bell, but downright grouchy  -- was decidedly not. 

This morning, as Rumple struggled to keep his head from falling into a plate of eggs and toast, his lovely Belle announced that later this week, their family would be dining at the Swan house. Rumple was too tired to bother holding in his subsequent groan. That groan resulted in a low-key argument between he and Belle that was decidedly not resolved by the time they parted ways for the day and Rumple had a strong feeling that an end to that argument would be no more in sight when he came home than when he left.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t stand anything about that family -- far from it. Things had been complicated between he and Emma in the past, but nowadays, he got along well enough with her. And Henry was his grandson and someone he’d wished to further connect to for a long time now. Finally, he had been offered something of a chance and in some ways, that felt like a second chance connecting with Bae. 

Yes, an evening with Emma and Henry sounded nice. For them, Rumple found no issue in doing his best to not just get along, but thrive in a deeper relationship.

However, neither of them were the problem.

Instead, it was the third member of that household that was causing him enough grief to challenge his wife.

Rumple considered himself lucky. Following the breaking of his mother’s curse, much of the bad blood shared between all manner of people in Storybrooke was forgotten. Facing the possibility of certain death tended to have that effect on people.

And few benefitted from that olive branch more than he did. His trips through town no longer made the levity surrounding his fellow townspeople wilt like a rose during winter. Hell, sometimes, he even had a friendly exchange where he and another would talk about their wives or children while waiting in line for groceries or during trips to the library. Rumple never expected to like that as much as he did, but Storybrooke had really started to feel like home for reasons more than just Belle and Gideon’s presences.

Time had a funny way of doing that.

That said, there were some slates that weren’t as easy to clean as others and one of those was the shared animosity between himself and Captain Hook.

Dealing with Hook wasn’t especially hard, but he wouldn’t call it especially easy either. Rumple had accepted Hook as a part of his existence and they silently agreed to a truce. Their paths crossed few and far between enough that there was no cause to stew in their mutual animosity. They just came and went as they wished and that was that.

It didn’t mean that either of them had to like it, and no, neither of them liked it at all, but given the circumstances, their situation was about as good as they could ask for -- awkward, but not miserable. 

Rumple only hoped things would’ve stayed that way.

But then Emma had to go and befriend Belle, and with that friendship, force their two hostile husbands together. 

Why couldn’t the two of them just leave well enough alone?

So yeah, Rumple found himself in the emotional crossfires of exhausted and cranky today and thinking about his reasons for either only served to make the emotions ever more intense.

Who knew the phrase ‘like father, like son’ also worked in reverse?

Like his baby boy, he was just tired.

So when the bell went off in his shop, Rumple honestly wasn’t sure if that’s even what it was and thus didn’t bother getting up from the comfort and privacy of the back room to go investigate. 

In fact, in quite the opposite move, he started to fall back asleep.

Rumple told himself it wouldn’t be an issue. He had magic set up to alert him if anything was stolen, and beyond that, short of another crisis, he didn’t care about the odd customer or two and their burdensome wants. So what if he ignored them? The worst that could happen would be him pissing off a customer, but then again...who in this town HADN’T he pissed off at this point? One more wouldn’t make a difference.

By the time the subsequent footsteps had entered the back room, Rumple barely resonated them. What fight his brain was putting up against the pull of sleep was losing fast and dissolving quicker by the second.

When that little bit of fight in him gave in, he finally allowed himself to drift off.

That decision turned out to be all that was needed for his guests to take what -- or rather who -- they wanted.

And only hours later would Rumple feel the resulting pain from the baseball bat that soon after his departure to the realm of dreams, would harshly make contact with his head.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Killian Jones, whether thanks to his naval training or simply the demands of being a captain, could be quite the creature of habit when he wanted to be. 

After over two hundred years of surprises, from the daily adventures of his life of piracy to the endless twists and turns of Neverland to the magic and monsters that made up so much of Killian’s life after meeting Emma, there was something that could be said about the comfort of a routine. Routines allowed for a relative sense of calm in one’s life. They were a chance to let the brain rest a bit, something all too necessary for life in the near constant state of excitement Storybrooke offered.

And that sentiment it what brought Killian to the docks this evening. It was a nice detour on his stroll home from work as well as quiet and barren from crowds around the end of his shift, so he made visiting the seaside spot a regular part of his week. The calm of the ocean as it laid beside him on a calm night allowed him to release the tension from the day.

It also made for quite the stress reliever. 

When Emma and Belle first started hanging out after a trip to the library on Emma’s part that went exceptionally well, Killian was thrilled. Heaven knew they both deserved more friends, especially ones that were a touch more removed from their respective parts of the family, and of everyone they could’ve chosen as a friend, they did a damn good job of it. So Killian encouraged Emma to spend as much time as she wanted with Belle so that they could enjoy what the other could provide for companionship.

But then they had to start involving both himself and his bloody crocodile, and that’s where Killian support found itself waning.

If there was ever anything truly difficult to deal with in Storybrooke these days, it was the idea of letting Rumplestiltskin come and go as he pleased. While many a sin had been forgiven all throughout the town and their very extended family, Killian didn’t care to extend that as much with Rumple as he had with others. It wasn't a war between the two of them by any means -- they had silently settled on something of a cease fire for the sake of their families and the well being of the town they shared, but as for anything beyond that, Killian refused. There was simply too much baggage accumulated over the years to even consider bothering with any niceties beyond his barest efforts. 

And Killian held no doubts in his mind that Rumple felt the same way about him. Even with their truce, their encounters were no less awkward. For the most part, thankfully, they’d been kept to a minimum.

However, now that was about to change.

Later on this week -- in four days to be precise -- they’d all be dining together, putting Rumple and Killian far closer together than he and he expected Rumple ever would’ve wanted to be and for far longer than it couldn be reasonably expected for a spat to not break out.

Killian didn’t need to tell Emma of his dislike of the event -- he was certain that his face had done that well enough by Emma’s assurance that it wouldn’t be too bad. With all due respect to his wife -- he begged to differ.

He wouldn't be the least bit surprised if Rumple was trying to weasel his way out of it -- because he was honestly trying to as well… 

How weird was it to want his crocodile to succeed for once?

Quite weird, and that’s why he was he needed a level of stress relief. 

The sea was one of the few constants in Killian’s life -- perhaps that’s part of why he found it so calming to gaze at. Even during the evening when it resembled tar more than water, it was still beautiful. 

Killian stared at the abyss of ocean that stretched into the practically invisible horizon. It had warded off a nice portion his disdain for the dinner, though there was still a good deal of it left.

He had done a good job being a better man. It was okay to have limits as to how good he could be. Killian knew that and he knew that Emma knew that. So he didn’t feel particularly unjustified in not wanting to have to entertain his enemy for an entire evening, especially when he also knew that one evening would inevitably lead to another and another. He wasn’t going anywhere and neither was Rumple. Would Emma and Belle’s friendship end up subjecting the both of them to a lifetime’s worth of discomfort?

It was awful to think that. Killian didn’t WANT to think that.

But he did.

What would he do? He presently hadn’t a clue, but he didn’t think he could just leave it at that. If simply coexisting with Rumplestiltskin proved to be the occasional pain, he couldn’t imagine how awful it would be seeing him on an even more regular basis.

Killian could only imagine how awful that would be -- sharing his home, table, and even more of his time with Rumple than he’d already wasted without Rumplestiltskin being present. And after everything that he’d been put through at Rumple’s hands since he first arrived in Storybrooke, that all only felt worse.

No, he’d have to talk with Emma. He wouldn’t do it. She’ll understand -- she always understands him. At the very least, maybe he’ll grant himself a stay of execution until the moment Emma and Belle’s friendship makes contact between himself and his crocodile completely unavoidable.

A shudder overcame Killian. Just how terrible would that moment be when it was finally here?

Killian didn’t want to know.

The calm of the sea seemed to be failing at its job. Now, he felt more stressed than ever. 

Maybe it was time to go back home.

Not even one step away from his location was he when suddenly, he heard a cracking sound.

Before Killian could even turn his head to investigate, the answer made itself known -- someone had broken the street lamp he was standing under, shrouding his vision in darkness. It was a good thousand feet to the next street lamp in either direction, and Killian could only see the twinkle of the lights beaconing in the distances.

Killian reached for his cellphone to call Emma, but just as his hand was started its motion towards his pocket, the arm attached to it was grabbed and twisted.

He tried to shout, but was stopped by a punch to his jawline. 

Stumbling back, Killian tried to regain his balance, but was quickly grabbed again.

A gloved hand pushed itself against his mouth and a torso did the same to the back of his head. Killian shouted louder, but little escaped. He bit the hand in front of him, but it remained roughly pressed against him. Between the hand and the torso, it felt like his head was in danger of being smashed. 

His eyes peered up to get a look at his assailant.

Or should he say, assailants.

If Killian could describe them in one word, that word would be crooked. 

Crooked noses sat above crooked smiles that only gave hints at what were likely crooked motivations.

Killian had dealt with these two men before.

Never did he expect anything to come of their encounter. 

But that was the thing about Storybrooke -- problems of the past had their way of coming back and biting them in the ass.

And now, Horace and Jasper were back in his life, with far too much of an advantage for Killian’s liking.

Hopefully, Killian had the power to do something about that.

He swiped his hook at Horace, but Horace caught it mid-swing.

“I think we can get rid of this. Give that wife of yours something to find when she goes looking for you. What do you think about that?”

As Horace pulled the brace connecting his hook to his body off, Killian’s only response came in the form of a steely glare.

“There, that’s better. Jasper,” Horace said, looking just above Killian’s head at his other kidnapper. “Keep your grip on him. I’ll have him out in a bit.”

Jasper, who was still holding Killian’s mouth and head hostage snickered. 

“You got it, Horace.”

Killian felt his nostrils flare up with rage as they pulled at whatever air they could to continue living.

Given his ability to survive all manner of environments, they were damn experts at that by now.

But while breathing helped Killian hold on, it did little to help him escape.

With few other solutions, Killian began giving into whatever base instincts -- however limited -- that he had, which in his state, only amounted to convulsing his body in every direction he could.

Still, it did no good, and his position was only made worse with a swift kick against the back of his shins that brought him to his knees.

Even as Killian fell, Jasper’s hold remained as firm as it had been the entire time.

Though Killian’s will to fight had not lessened at all, something deep within told him that he wasn’t getting out of this -- not by a long shot and definitely not by himself.

The last thing Killian saw before blacking out was a wooden baseball bat slamming into his head.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Transporting bodies, if one knows what they’re doing, isn’t hard, and Horace and Jasper knew damn well what they were doing. Neither was a stranger to heists and with a decently sized truck at their disposal thanks to their cursed professions, some careful timing, and a bit of luck, it was almost too easy.

And now, Rumplestiltskin and Captain Hook were theirs to do with as they deemed fit -- and oh did they have a plan for what they deemed fit.

“Get them both settled here, Jasper,” Horace ordered. “Come on, hurry up. We want to get them taken care of before they wake up.”

“IF they wake up, that is,” Jasper shot back, chuckling. “You really did a number on them with those clonks on the head, Horace.”

Horace dismissed him with a casual wave of his hand. “Don’t worry, Jasper. They’ll wake up, alright…After all they put us through, they don’t deserve to get off so easily, and we’re not done with them just yet by a bloody sight. Now start tying them up.”

Jasper seemed a bit put off by the fact that he was going to have to do the hard part of the work this time around, but Horace wasn’t about to allow himself be guilted otherwise. Whether he liked it or not, Jasper was likely the most talented knot tier in history and Horace didn't want to chance even the possibility of a premature escape. 

No, Jasper would ensure that their prisoners would suffer their fates side-by-side and helpless, just as they had to do all those years ago.

“How do you want me to arrange them?”

Horace thought about it for a second before a thought struck him.

The Dark One and Captain Hook had screwed up their lives while in pursuit of revenge on each other.

A side-by-side torture was too good for them.

Why not instead put them as they always were: At each other’s throats?

Yeah, Horace liked that idea quite a lot.

“Let’s make them face each other,” Horace instructed. “Put Hook under The Dark One’s pits. That way, the shorty won’t be able to get his arms past his head. And then stick his arms under Hook’s.” It would no doubt be hard to get them like that, particularly that last step, but if it worked the way Horace envisioned it, their last moments on this Earth would be truly hellish.

Jasper smirked. “Good thinking, Horace. One problem though: Hook’s only got one hand. Aren’t you worried he’ll slip out?”

Horace hummed as he considered the problem Jasper presented him with. How indeed COULD he keep Hook in place? Normal binds wouldn’t work when one could just slip their arm out of them.

No, he needed something that would stick.

Horace considered his own body. He balled his left fist and looked up and down his arm. With his right hand, he formed a circle and slowly traced over the outer layer of his arm, looking for a point where he was sure a bond couldn’t slip out. When he arrived at his elbow, he fastned the circle and made a move in the other direction.

Upon seeing that it couldn’t move, he practically beamed.

“Bind his right hand to his left elbow.”

Jasper grinned at him.

“That’ll keep them awfully close,” he said, clearly unable to keep the laughter out of his voice.

“That’s the plan.” Jasper got to work, arranging them as Horace ordered at a quick pace, especially for him.

He supposed, as was the case for his captives, a lust for vengeance could do that to someone.

“That’s it, get them nice and tight.”

When Jasper was done, Horace tested the strength of the binding. Pleased as the strength and layers of the knots, he offered his friend a satisfied nod. 

“So what do we do now?” Jasper asked.

“Now?” Horace repeated. “Now, we just sit back and ready ourselves for some sweet revenge.”

[stevie-writes-the-pain-away]

Alcoholics Anonymous - Chapter One

       There are 34,000 species of fish in the world and only four hundred of them are sharks. You're more likely to be killed by a dog than from a shark but I find this complicated to think about, seeing how bad of a reputation great whites have. For the longest time, I struggled as an aquaphobe and I couldn’t figure out for the life of me why keeping away from water was better in my head than getting out there and gaining back my long lost courage. I couldn’t even swim with friends in a kiddy pool without convincing myself it wasn’t safe and I was better off ten metres away. But I guess I got myself into enough danger away from water already. Like walking into traffic.

       I felt a rough yank on my arm, pulling me back from the street in what I can only now remember as a blur. I replaced my smudged vision with a clear, blank stare into the oncoming traffic and my heart leapt into my throat as an obnoxious car horn hollered down the street past the corner of the sidewalk. With my hair now in a mess and one of my shaky hands fiddling with my clothes to sort myself out, I turned my head to my left hand, watching tight squeezing fingers wrap around my wrist. I bent and rose my arm so my hand nearly met my face and traced whoever held me to a man standing too close for comfort.

       "You alright, lass?" he asked. His voice rang through my head clearly, blocking any other noise out and his raspy, low accented tone was filled with concern. My eyes lifted from his chest to his face where my sudden shock must've been fooling my eyes. It was as if the man had some sort of green shade blended in with his skin and perhaps even one of his eyes was glowing a soft red, almost pink sort of colour. I just stared at his facial features, unsure of how to answer his question. I took notice to his greasy black hair, unnatural skin which must've not been shaved that morning and foreign scent I'd never experienced before. In a strange way, everything about this man seemed to pull me in and I found myself stuck in a trance as he stared back at me, waiting for an answer. Time stood still and eventually, my eyes wandered to the people who stood around us, staring at me with confusion or frustrated disturbance and annoyance. I looked back at the man in front of me as he watched me with now irritated, furrow-browed eyes.

       As soon as I parted my lips to speak he let go, leaving an empty space between us which, in some dramatic way, made me feel lost. He pulled out his phone from his pocket and held it to his ears, already arguing with somebody on the other side. Just like that, I blinked once more, only to find him gone. In fact, nearly the whole crowd of people by the curb was gone already halfway across the street. Realizing I was supposed to join them, I sped after them, ignoring my embarrassment. I would've rather paid attention to where that man went, I couldn't let him get away without thanking him for saving my life. After attempting to look through the busy crowd in front of me I felt guilty losing hope. There was no way I could find him in this mess, even if that man was someone who stood out so well if you were playing a game of hide and seek like I was. Accepting my failure I sighed and backed up, remembering my plans for the day. I couldn't take the day off and search London for him, could I? I cursed to myself in frustration, quickly escaping the crowd around me and leaving down the other street where the community health clinic was.

       After the fifteen-minute walk I had left, I arrived at my destination, opening the wide glass doors and entering the building. As always, I waved to the lady at the front desk and carried on down the hallway to my left. I headed towards the usual room I arrived at every Tuesday afternoon, pushing the door open and coming face to face with the same familiar and comfortable people. I smiled warmly, looking at the chairs all set in a circle and a few of the typical attendees of the program chatting quietly. They glanced my way before smiling at me then continuing their conversations. I counted four of them in the room so far not including myself or counsellor Phoebe. She stood in the other room holding her clipboard as she, I can only assume, marked off my absence. I sat down in my own little bubble, pulling out my phone to wait for the session to begin.

       I was never one to talk to others in the program. I just sat and listened to their stories and only ever spoke when addressed. Aside from greeting others, saying hello and goodbye, I was probably one of the least talkative people in group therapy. That also meant I'd never opened up about myself as much as the others; some of them barely even remembered my name. I laughed it off to myself, scrolling through the pictures on my phone to entertain myself. As minutes passed, more adults entered the room and I put my phone away, crossing and rubbing my arms as Phoebe walked across the room to close the door. Altogether there were nine of us and honestly, we were all a family in a way. It had just been us the majority of the time, and for months now. We'd watched people come and go, we'd seen people on cloud nine then crash back down and I'd listened to some of the heaviest, heart-wrenching stories I'd ever heard. I guess that was the point of Alcoholics Anonymous, however, in a twisted way. Perhaps the more stories you hear the stronger the determination to not risk drinking yourself to death will eventually become. If you're not already suicidal, that is.

       Phoebe straightened her skirt and sat down, fiddling with the edge of her jacket. She placed her clipboard on the ground and clapped her hands together. "We were supposed to get somebody knew today, but it looks like they may not be coming," she said to herself, her face twisting into slight disappointment. I always enjoyed Phoebe's voice and how she spoke, as well as her overall presence. She always found a way to turn something around and make it feel good, or at least, less of a burden on somebody's shoulders. It sounded cliché, but she was such a beautiful person both inside and out. She was gentle, even in aggressive situations. She didn't need to yell in order to get your attention. After all she had done for her clients, she gained enough respect to have you turn your head towards her and stop everything and anything you were doing when she simply cleared her throat. She had curly blonde hair that just passed her shoulders and bounced above her chest when she walked. Her face was unreal, a living Barbie doll right in front of me whenever I watched her; a natural pale beauty. She had lovely blue eyes that seemed to glow, just like her smile. Even when she didn't look very happy, which was rare, she had a nice shine to her. Everybody listened carefully when she took a breath in to speak. "Well, good morning, anyway," she began. "As I know you're all aware, this program is about thinking of how we can cope, as well as crafting ideas to express ourselves. But I think it's always a good idea to encourage people to speak and release anything inside that they would like to talk about first. Why don't we go around the circle and ask each other how our weekends were?"

       Group therapy most definitely seemed more like a GSA meeting at a middle school with the school's guidance counsellors. To some people, the way Phoebe handled the program didn't feel mature enough for adults who were meant to be thirty to 59, but it surprisingly worked for all of us. Probably because not a lot of us were in our fifties or forties yet. For me personally, it made me feel better to be treated as I would be in high school, but that was just me and for my own reasons.

       I turned towards one of the women as she began to speak, only to be interrupted by the door being swung open with what felt to be no hesitance whatsoever. On the other side of the door was a man, maybe 5'7, dressed in all black. His hand still gripped the handle of the door and he paused, his eyes dancing around the room as if he was awaiting some sort of invitation to enter, even if he had already opened the door.

       "Are you the new attendee for this program?" Phoebe asked, pulling her clipboard back into her lap with enthusiasm.

       "I should hope so, bad first impressions are hard to recover from," the man answered in his low gravely voice. He furrowed his eyebrows at her like he was waiting for her to help solve his confusion.

       She stuttered a little, looking through her list. "A-are you Murdoc?"

       "That'd be me," he smirked and nodded, walking forward and shutting the door behind him. His Cuban heels tapped the floor loudly and he sat in one of the chairs, pulling his leather jacket off and carelessly placing it behind him.

       "Well, lucky for you, we only just started. Perhaps while we talk about our weekends, we can introduce ourselves to you," Phoebe offered, gesturing everybody to turn back to the woman previously talking. As she started over, I found myself looking back at Murdoc. Something about him fascinated me; like maybe I knew him, or we had crossed paths on the sidewalk and his face was still buried in the back of my mind somewhere, waiting to be dug up. I finally lost myself in a daydream, not realizing I was staring. His dark eyes, along with the rest of his bored expression skimmed across the room, absorbing his surroundings. Soon enough his eyes swept over mine and I immediately choked on my breath. His face said it all; green skin, raven black hair, one red eye and sharp jawline in need of a shave. He turned his attention back to whoever was talking but his eyes widened, quickly looking back in my direction. As soon as our eyes met, they were locked, and we each melted into our seats awkwardly. Murdoc hid his discomfort well, but I felt I had the right to say I knew when others felt secretly under attack. He might have looked unhappy to be there, but I couldn't have been more happy and relieved to find him. Right in front of me, I found the man who had saved my life.

       My green knight in shining armour.