#so happy at how many of you liked the taped on sunglasses

[nortedwayfinder]

Classic Tails here with solutions.

Comics in order: [First] [Next]

Prequel to this:

[toastybugguy]

This is a small, joyful moment I had during the D.C. pride parade last weekend that I just have to share.

We (me, my mom, my dad) are standing in the staging area to be in the parade. We end up standing there for quite some time waiting for the parade to begin, and in the same company group as us is an energetic late-teens-to-mid-twenties looking girl wearing the progress pride flag, who is accompanied by who I assume is either her mother or grandmother, an older transgender lesbian woman. She’s wearing a lesbian flag blouse, a stained glass patterned skirt in the trans flag colors, a large round sun hat, and sunglasses. She looked so fabulous, and I couldn’t help but notice her. There weren’t many people there in specifically trans apparel. I want to say something, but there is absolutely no casual way for me to express the emotions I feel when I see her— old, trans, happy, alive.

I, wearing my trans flag around my shoulders, was predictably too shy to say anything while we were in the staging area, despite the fact that we were near each other several times while waiting for the parade to begin. I could vaguely feel the same energy emanating from her when we were around each other, but neither of us said anything.

Then, the parade began. We had gotten moving and were walking for somewhere in the ballpark of just 5-10 minutes when the woman came up to me. She asked me if I wanted to help hold a banner (one of the three the company we were walking with had), and I turned to see the girl with the progress flag holding one of the rings on the end. She smiled widely at me and looked grateful to rest her arm when I said “Sure!” And quickly bounded off to rejoin the other lady. My mom was a few steps behind me, looking very pleased.

Only a few minutes later I felt a hand on my back, and because my mom does that all the time I assumed it was her, but come to see it’s the older woman again. She has the most beautiful, happy smile on her face, and says to me in such a gentle and genuine tone, “You look great.” I have a cape around my shoulders and I’m wearing trans-tape on my chest in public for the first time ever. Her hand remains on my back. I laugh, not because it’s funny or because I don’t believe her, but because I’m so happy I have no other way to express it. I thank her and tell her how much I love her outfit. She rejoins the young girl.

I hold that banner for almost the entire parade after that. By the end, I’m a professional at holding it with my one hand and waving a small flag with the other. My arms are tired, and I don’t care one bit. Occasionally, I watch the crowd cheer for the older woman as she passes. My mom and I pick out as many people behind the barricade holding trans flags or wearing trans apparel as we can— so many of them are young, younger than me— some with a parent— at that age when being trans exists with a couple people in your bubble, and they look excited but shy in the way I often used to. They are excited to be at pride, but are waiting to feel like they, too, belong there, the way a lot of trans kids are. I wave to every single one of them. I make a point of showing off my flag. Their faces light up every time. Each of them have the most glowing smiles.

There’s a way to connect it all. I picked this woman out of the crowd because, simply by being there, she was a reminder to me of trans people growing old, of living long and happy trans lives, of having loving families, of having a future. She picked me, a scrawny trans guy wearing my (our) flag like a faux superhero, out of the crowd because I am a reminder of trans people continuing to exist, of having a place. We pick each other out because we are members of the trans family. We are both a momentary expression of trans people fearlessly living. When that woman and I spoke, the day was ours.

There’s something so innate about being trans and seeing other trans people, especially those younger than you, and wanting them to thrive. I wave to every person donning the trans flag because a woman I didn’t know made me feel seen. I wave to them because there is no limit to how much trans people can touch each other’s lives. I wave to them because I want them to take up space— because my first pride was D.C. pride, years ago, when my friend was in the march and my mom and I clambered over the barricade at their request (I nearly fell; the hands of people in the crowd grabbed and steadied me. I never saw their faces.), and I had my shoulders hunched the whole time because, even on a day of community and acceptance, I didn’t know if I had the right to be there. They should know that they do.

Maybe on some level, this is why we choose to put a flag around our shoulders during pride. The trans flag is a cape to all of us who own it— it rests upon the same place the hands of our trans family do. And when this year’s pride month ends, the day is still ours.

[razorsadness]

surveys are fun, yo.

what cd have you forgotten about and then recently remembered you love so much? dookie by green day. even though it's a tape, not a cd.

what is the most depressing song ever? "olga's birthday" by rose polenzani or "sea anemone" by jets to brazil. or perhaps "pocket games" by cadallaca. i listen to a lot of depressing shit.

what do you think is the best way to get a date? make the person you are crushing on a rad mix tape or CD. or give them a copy of yr zine.

who do you think would cry if they ever read your journal? my mom. some other people, too, maybe.

what is the cure for the summer time blues? trains, travel, tattoos, coffee, friends, zines.

whats the last cd you listened to? "my war" by black flag. but it was a record, not a cd.

give me a quote that will do me so good: i find that alcohol, in sufficient quantities, brings about all the effects of drunkenness. -oscar wilde

Full name: jessica ‘duckie’ disobedience

You reside: near chicago, soon to actually be IN chicago, thank fucking god.

What makes you human? i get inane crushes on "celebrity" boys and girls and then get papercuts when i tear their pictures out of fanzines. i smoke and i cough and my throat gets sore and fucked up when i scream too much which i do a lot. my heart breaks at the drop of a hat, but i always seem to sew it back up again, although maybe it doesn't work as well as it once did. i bleed. i sweat and smell and fuck. i get blisters on my toes from too-tight chucks and on my hands from writing and bass guitar and bike handles. i cry and my tears are salty.

What do you collect? stickers to put on my typewriter and car and bicycle and notebooks, patches to sew haphazardly onto hoodies, multi-colored shoelaces for my multi-colored chucks. tattoos. drawings of skulls; zines and books to read and re-read. CDs, mix tapes from friends and strangers, punk rock records. weird found religious propaganda like pamphlets on how to be saved and "i heart jesus" barrettes. leopard print stuff. blank books to fill up with rants and poetry and journal entries and my novel. cheap typewriters. pictures of punk rockers. photographs. sock monkeys. punk rock barbies. fabric scraps that may come in handy some day. pictures and fliers and posters for my walls. e-mail addresses.

How many issues of Cometbus do you own? not nearly as many as i would like to.

What annoys you most? close-minded people, dumb boys, mosquito bites, restlessness, boredom, sore throats, stomachaches, nic-fitting, being broke, apathy.

When you grow up, what do you want to be? really, doing a zine is the only long-term plan i have. i'd like to write and travel and meet lots of rad people and be in a band. i want to be happy. i want to be a mom someday.

Whats inside your attractive messenger bag? green zine #10, girl swirl #4, inside and out #s 1 & 2, the scorpio conspiracy #1, starlight #4, war against the idiots #19, lab rat #4, skin & ink july 2001, adbusters july/august 2001, packing tape for taping up posters, a black bandana, sunglasses, my keys on a jack kerouac keychain, halls ice blue throat lozenges, a tin of tattoo goo, two mix tapes, a blank book with a typewriter on the cover that i'm writing my novel in, a black felt tip pen, a little flashlight for dumpster-diving, a pack of sugarfree gum, million4roe stickers, a converse all-star pencil case with nothing in it, old breath mints covered in fuzz and tobacco, a receipt for piggly wiggly, some coins, a chicago metra train map, a notebook with random scribblings in it, political posters, a blank book with the british flag on it that has my poetry in it, a half-full pack of sampoerna clove cigarettes, a half-full pack of marlboro reds, empty packs of gpc lights and american spirit lights, a sanitary pad, a leopard print wallet (which contains: 7 dollars, a receipt for walgreens, my driver's license, my library card, a guitar pick, a pink plastic safety pin, a bottle cap that also happens to be an "ad" for free beer zine, two tiny pictures (one of a sock puppet and one of a chalk drawing), & my debit card), old el cards, an old shopping list, an empty coin purse, condoms, a blue felt tip pen, 3 lighters (blue, purple, yellow), tissues, an eyeliner pencil (black, of course), benadryl, my watch, an empty pack of birth control pills, eyedrops, hand cleanser, hand lotion, and lime chapstick.

Shamless About: singing loud in public, thrashing around in my car, public displays of affection, belching, swearing, my tattoos and piercings, armpit and leg hair, scars and bruises, liking girls.

Favorite summer activities: walking on the beach wearing all black and getting my feet wet but not actually swimming, traveling, walking around outside at night with friends either really drunk or really stoned and being really obnoxious, coffeeshops, punk rock shows where it's so hot you can hardly breathe, dumpster-diving, meeting cool people, eating ice cream, drinking lemonade, riding my bicycle, skateboarding, staying up late, catching fireflies and then letting them go, etc.

Favorite winter activities: freezing my ass off while trying to walk to the fireside bowl, freezing my ass off while waiting for the el, generally freezing my ass off, dressing inappropriately for the weather, drinking coffee or chai, making mix tapes, being nostalgic, writing long letters to friends, contemplating things, wearing sweaters, wishing it were summer, crying, having sex, cuddling, shoplifting, hanging out at the library, making snow angels, etc. What side of the Shit Split rocks harder? i'd have to vote for blatz, although filth is really rad.

Who would win a fight, Paul Westerberg or Elvis Costello? well fuck, neither one of them seems like fightin' guys. but i guess i’d say paul, just cuz he seems a little more unhinged.

If you are alone and no one is looking, how many weezer songs will it take to get you sobbing? half of "the sweater song." i'm weird.

Do you Rock the Casbah? yep. even if the sharif don't like it.

What's the biggest lie you ever told? let's see. . .my parents think i'm straight (even though i've tried to tell them otherwise), have no tattoos, have never had sex, don't smoke, don't drink, don't do drugs, and they don't know i'm an anarchist.

What is the meaning of life? zines, records, love & lust, adventure, sex, broken hearts, bass guitars, loud music, screaming, high-top chucks, crushes, henry rollins.

Honestly though. i don't hate myself. and that's all that matters.

[choice excerpts from some surveys I filled out and posted on my LiveJournal, 6/18/01]

[itslenagain]

[ Part 1 here / Part 2 here / Part 3 here / Part 4 here / Part 5 here ]

*Content note for non-detailed discussion of miscarriage*

PART 6

The press booth is bursting with reporters vying to ask the President a question.

"Mister President, what are you doing about climate change?"

"Mister President, can you comment on the latest push for more government transparency?"

"Mister President, what are you doing to address the Greek god situation?" At that question, microphones go up quickly, every hand with a pen ready eagerly waiting to take notes.

"I'm doing my best to look into it, we are working tirelessly to investigate the situation, no further comment at this time," he says, stepping away from the podium as the reporters continue to shout questions. Once he has retreated into his car, he turns to his press secretary. "What the hell is *the Greek god situation*?" She shakes her head in exhaustion.

(The first week of September...)

"I've handled the FBI situation," Bev says, a cigarette hanging out of her mouth. "We blamed Zeus for the shit on the plane. We've earned enough public sympathy for you that it wasn't hard for them to get on board with it. Hell, I mean honestly, it *really* was his fault, anyways." She smirks at Hera. "I think we've got the best case we can possibly make to help you get a visa to work towards you becoming a legal resident of the US. So that's the next step. It will still likely be an uphill battle, but I can pull strings with people who owe me favors."

"You seem to have so many friends in useful places," Hera says, a sly smile in her eyes. "It must be nice to have these kinds of connections."

"Says the immortal who somehow has an unlimited supply of untraceable cash," Bev laughs back. "I hope you've got that hidden well or our government will tax the shit out of it."

"I figured out in my first few years living in the mortal world that there are many different ways to get the things you want, and why shouldn't I? Go after the things I want, I mean? What is the point of life except to seek pleasure?"

"You know, I really don't know." Bev says. "I don't think I can remember the last time I felt really happy." She pauses. She's said too much. She lets out an awkward laugh.

"You really wanted to be a mother back then."

Bev freezes. Her heart begins to race. "H- how..."

"I'm not just the Goddess of women, you know. I'm also the Goddess of motherhood." Hera's expression softens. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you. I did try. Some things are out of even my power."

Bev feels numb. "I... I don't know what to say."

Hera sighs. "It's ok. I know that what's done is done... But I believe you'll still get the chance, one day, if that's something you still want." Bev cannot form any words. She looks at Hera. Something in her expression feels... comforting.

"I've never talked about it." She swats away a tear. "I just wish I could have held him, or her, or-"

"Her." Hera says gently. At that, Bev feels the floodgates in her heart open. She tries so hard to be stoic. Now, she's sobbing, loud and raw. Hera embraces her. It hurts. But it's okay.

Later on that night, Joanne would listen to the tape in the secret recorder she placed in Bev's office, and cry.

(The next morning...)

Bev walks carefully into her bathroom. She looks at herself in the mirror. Her eyes are puffy and ringed with red. But... she feels lighter.

Kimberly holds Hera's hand on the drive to the embassy. It's quiet in the car. Behind her sunglasses, Joanne has been watching Hera in the rearview mirror the entire drive.

"Are you sure it's safe to be here?" Kimberly asks.

"Persephone sent word that Hades is thoroughly pleased to have a visit from our brother," Hera giggles. "Nobody else in Olympus wants to get involved."

The group arrives at the US Embassy in Athens, Greece.

"So let me get this straight... You're *Hera,* like literally, the *Goddess*. You have no legal records of your existence. No schooling, no skills that don't sound like you ripped off an X-Men movie, and yet, the infamous Bev Jones simply cannot imagine taking literally *anyone else* to be her protégé than you." The immigration representative raises an eyebrow.

Bev leans across the desk. "Listen Alexander, unless you want your wife Evangelia to find out about your mistress Irida and her luxury apartment, which is in *your* name, you're going to help us make this happen." Her shark smile gleams with a newfound glory. He gulps.

Suddenly, the application is stamped, the Visa is being processed, and Hera is employed.

Hera raises a glass of wine to her companions. They've already made quick work of the first 2 bottles. "To Bev, you snake! For hearing me out, for never failing to find another trick, and for making me legal!"

"Just wait until the IRS hears," Kimberly laughs. She raises her glass. "To Bev. You've got a heart under those scales, don't you?" Hera, Bev, and Kimberly roar.

"To Bev," Joanne says, "Who helps other people do things she's too afraid to do for herself." She dumps her glass out on the ground and walks away.

"What's *her* problem?" Kimberly chuckles, feeling all the wine rush to her head. Bev gets up to try and follow her.

"Joanne? What's wrong? Jo!"

Joanne stops. She holds her head in her hands. "Bev, why did you become a divorce lawyer?"

"....I'm good at it," Bev says steadily. "Maybe it wasn't my *dream,* but I made my life with it."

"Remember when you hired me 9 years ago? When you worked in family court?" Joanne turns around. Her mascara is running down her cheeks. "There wasn't as much money, but you used to talk to me, Bev! You used to be a person!"

Bev feels her heart pounding. Her skin feels hot. "Things were different back then."

"I took care of you for MONTHS after you left that hospital and you never said a damn word to me about what happened. You wouldn't eat, you wouldn't sleep, I literally *carried* you to and from the toilet. I did EVERYTHING for you, I still do! You've known these people what, a month?! And you're suddenly just all buddy-buddy with them! I don't trust her as far as I could throw her! God powers be damned!" Her lips quiver, her eyes streaked with tears.

"Joanne... I'm so sorry, Joanne. I just, I don't know!" She shakes her head. "And it's not all on me, you know. You never asked. You didn't have to stay. And you damn sure didn't have to bug my fucking office just to find out!" Joanne shudders. "Yeah, I know about all your bullshit, Jo. Why do you think I keep you at an arms length these days? Cut the shit and just fucking tell me what your problem is!"

"I LOVE YOU, BEV!" Joanne screeches. "I love you and I want you and you're still married to your stupid fucking husband who left you bleeding at a hospital on your anniversary! You're a DIVORCE LAWYER. LEAVE HIM!" She collapses. "Stop lying to yourself! Stop shutting me out! Let me love you the way you deserve to be loved!"

Bev stands, staring. Joanne's eyes grow wide. "Bev... Bev, please don't walk away. Bev. I need you, Bev." Bev takes a step backwards. "No, please..."

"Joanne, I..." Bev can't find the words. She feels like a figure inside a snow globe; no way out, no way to let anyone else in, a spectacle for everyone to shake and gawk at.

Joanne stands up and walks away.

"....fuck. FUCK!" Bev swears. This is not good.

Hera and Kimberly, having heard the whole argument, sandwich Bev between them in a hug.

[ Next ]

You are a divorce lawyer, the best in your field. You have just received word that you will representing the Greek goddess Hera in her divorce from Zeus.

[koiturine]

married | ritual.

i think i'll take the chance, 'cause after all, what are the chances?

"cheers." we clink our champagne flutes together after a successful acquisition. "the ipc's gonna be reeeeally happy about this one... right?" i have to ask to be sure. i don't 100% understand how his job works, or the ipc. i think it's evil, and while i've criticized it to aventurine's face his defenses are too confusing for me to really fight or wrap my head around.

"mhm. i might even get bumped up to p46." ooh, fancy! i think. i hope his spiel somehow makes more sense after downing my champagne. "the shares barely cost a thing. we went from 20% shareholder to full ownership." i still don't understand how a planet has stocks, but okay. following.

"having full control of psimante means we don't have to worry about any red tape. more importantly, it's not so much a hostile takeover as it is a simple trade." most acquisitions through his department when they're tied to debt are kind of massive pr nightmares. a lot of internal fighting, a lot of annoying paperwork. aventurine always has a more interesting business strategy, but i'm still having a hard time wrapping my head around him going with this venture in the first place.

it's just so not him to go after virtually no risk.

sure, there's an incredibly high reward. but even the rube goldberg-esque scheme he cooked up didn't have as many moving parts as usual.

he knew the astral express would come, even without our fake wedding.

even for a below average investor, psimante was chump change.

really, the value was so low he could have bought it without any scheme.

he didn't need me at all.

i'm forcing myself to focus on the joy of eating at the first place we properly met. at least the first place after he became aventurine. my favorite spot in psimante. i should be grateful that my home planet is in good hands now, right?

"wanna rate my performance, koi?" i blink back to paying attention mid-chew on my dinner roll. it's sweet that he wants to keep these schemes fair... but he could be better at it. "it did feel a lot more like a proper, clear mystery this time. you actually bothered to leave clues for once."

i play with the fake wedding ring dangling on my necklace. having this on the whole week really added to the suspicion. not to mention him keeping his sunglasses on the whole time to really hammer in the speculations about mind control. so much confusion about who was playing who with just enough little details to let the discerning mystery solver figure it out. but...

god, it's on the tip of my tongue. i snap my fingers until i remember the easier question to ask. "oh! yeah, what was the point of making us both untrustworthy?" it felt a little unfocused, but aventurine understands the 'psychology of the player' better than i do. (aka: he knows how to trick his friends.)

"if there are more conflicting opinions, you could have one half going after the stellaron through you, and the other half going at it through me. i know they say you shouldn't 'split the party', but i like to think about it more like i'm splitting the deck." if the thread i was chasing to find it was useless, he'd have his own as a back up. i think about that approach to myself, but ultimately decide to nod when enough dots connected.

i should ask why he picked my hometown in the first place. angelux bay might be profitable, and he might love the sun and the sand and the luxury it has to offer. the question of why he'd bother to do something he'd find so painfully boring is still gnawing at the back of my mind.

the way he's looking at me might be with that usual poker face, but the way his elbow isn't sitting on the table is enough of a tell. he knows i have something to say. and he's waiting ever so patiently for me to say it. my critique.

"...no notes." aventurine isn't even remotely surprised. "honestly, sometimes simple is better. you had fun with it, right?" i manage to snake in my concern a bit more vividly.

"it's hard not to have fun when i have an excuse to spend time with my unlucky charm." no matter how many times he calls me that, i'm not going to find it any less stupid. i know it's revenge for calling him avie, but this game of gay chicken has lasted a little too long.

...and it will continue to last too long. hopefully. i guess it's a bit better than jackpot.

the waiter comes along and i order my usual. aventurine tries something different, like he does every time. he's probably gonna make me try some, and i'm probably gonna hate it. something about the mundane predictability finally pulls the question out of me.

"so, why did you go for psimante?" aventurine looks wide-eyed at me. oh, so he didn't expect that question.

"because it's your birthday?" how the fuck did i forget my own birthday i am getting WAY too old. he scoffs out a chuckle as the shame looms over my face. his laughs only get more pronounced the more i sink my face into my hands. i'm an idiot. i really am an idiot.

"to be fair, last year you reserved my favorite theme park in pier point just for us."

"you really think i'd do the same thing every year?" he bats his eyelashes at me, elbow finally back on the table with his cheek resting in the palm of his hand. "i have ooone more gift for you, though. if you'll take it."

...huh?

yeah, okay, sure. aventurine spoiling me is literally nothing new. he bought me an entire fall/winter collection for a designer i offhandedly mentioned i like just last week. but he's--

holding my hand... and... and putting a ring on my finger. he speaks in avgin for a moment. i can't make everything out, but some key words sound familiar. 'under her three eyes...', 'secret love...'

"you wanna get married, kakavasha? ...actually?" he's melting. there's such an ethereal energy to him when he gets... soft. for lack of a better word. he knows that tone. that tone of unbridled, unapologetic sentimentality that i only know how to show to him.

there's a hitch in his breath. then a hitch in mine. we're both sniffling and fighting back tears, laughing at the fact that we're sharing such an intense happiness we thought we didn't deserve before.

i pluck the other ring from his hand, whispering my own vows while slipping that gold band around his finger. i always thought that i wanted a huge wedding with a tailcoat that has a train that's twice my height. instead of an aisle, it'd be a runway. a reception with a literal champagne fountain.

i think he thought the same thing.

but sometimes simple is better.

[werewolfbansheelove]

Mash Up (Football + Will Sets)

Emma and Ken approach Will in the teachers' lounge. 

Will: Hey, guys.

Ken: We need to talk.

Will: Okay.

Ken: As you know, even though she refuses to wear the ring and won’t tell anyone including her mother... about the engagement, Emma and I are, in fact, getting married. 

Emma: Yes. Ken convinced me we need to at least be in the same room when the marriage is certified. 

Ken: What can I say? I’m a traditionalist. We’re going to Hawaii and getting married on the beach.

Will: And you want me to come?

Emma: No, no, no, no. I picked Hawaii, because it’s far away from everybody we know. 

Will realized. Will: Oh. 

Emma: Uh, the thing is-is that after a very brief, private ceremony Ken has decided he would like to have a first dance.

Ken: The problem is, we can’t decide on the song.

Emma: Yes. I would like to have “I Could’ve Danced All Night”. 

Will: Oh, from My Fair Lady. (Emma smiles) Great choice. Such a romantic song.

Emma: Yes.

Ken: Yeah, if you’re making a mixed tape for the boring parade. I want the “Thong Song”. (Will was stunned) I need something I can shake my moneymaker to.

Emma: Um. Uh, I was remembering, um, that you did those, uh mash-up things with the Glee kids, right? (Will: Uh-huh.) So I thought maybe you could find a way to use both of our songs. Um, and I... well, we both need/want/need dance lessons. 

Ken: Yeah, l-l...I mean, I might need a bit of polishing but it's the Emster here you really have to work with. Had a monster case of athlete's foot a couple years back. Had to get all my toenails removed. So if she steps on my feet during the dance, I might pass out. 

Emma: We would, uh, be very happy to pay you for your time, Will.

Will: No. No, I want to give you these lessons as a wedding gift. Sound good?

Emma + Ken: Hmm! 

——–

Finn and Quinn visit Emma and ask her for advice. 

Emma: So, how can I, uh... how can I help you kids? Is it, uh, too many friends on MySpace, or...

Quinn: I can’t believe we’re saying this but we need some advice on how to be cool. 

Finn: Yeah, you must have picked up some ideas about what cool people do from watching them over the years. (Noticing the look from Emma) Not that you were never cool yourself.

Emma: Yeah... Eh... Well, um.. But, um, you’re two of the most popular kids in school.

Quinn: We were until we joined Glee Club. That’s why he got a Slushee facial. I’m sure of it.

Emma: Okay. I see. Um, don’t really have any pamphlets on how to be popular. Uh, okay, right. Well, let’s talk about this. Why is it so important for you to be cool? Huh? Don’t you like being in Glee? It’s fun.

Quinn: Status is like currency. When your bank account is full you can get away with doing just about anything. But right now, we’re like toxic assets. When my mom applied to college she put being popular as her main extracurricular activity. And she got into Arizona State.

But while Quinn was talking, Emma, however, gets distracted by Will passing by wearing sunglasses. 

Emma (whispering): Sunglasses are so sexy. (Then out loud) Sunglasses. Yeah, sunglasses are, um, really, really cool. I’m always seeing celebrities wear them in magazines, even at night. Doesn’t need to be day. Very popular. Gives you a sense of mystery. You know rappers.

Finn (smiling big): Totally. You can’t see their eyes, so they have all the power. (Emma: Mmm!) I could be looking at your boobs, and you’d have no idea.

That earned him a hit from Quinn on his arm. 

Emma: No. Um, no. Kids, look. The most important thing is that you be yourselves. Okay, and if people don’t like you for that, then I’m sorry, but who needs 'em. 

——–

Emma visits Will after school in one of the classroom in a wedding dress with puffy shoulders and a long train. 

Will: Hi.

Emma: Hi. Hmm. This is my Cousin Betty's. We were obsessed with Princess Di's dress when we were little girls so, um, when she got married she insisted on having this, uh this long train. 

Which it definitely was a long train. 

Will: Is there a reason you... have it on now?

Emma: Yes, yes.

Will: Okay.      He waited for the explanation.

Emma: Yeah. Um, she didn’t wear it to her dance rehearsals and the night of the wedding her husband kept stepping on the train. It was really bad. Their fight was epic. (Will: Ooh.) The priest cried. They were divorced three months later. Actually, maybe I shouldn’t wear it. 

Emma went to leave but Will stopped her. 

Will:  No, no, no, no, no! It’s all good. It’s all good. We’ll, uh... We’ll see how you move in it. Right?

Emma: Okay.

Will: Okay. Um, so first, uh, let’s do Ken's selection and then, uh, we’ll work in your song for the big finish. Okay.

Will: All right? Hey, Emma I’m really excited about this.

Emma was enchanted by the man who went to play the Thong song. 

Emma: Fantastic. It’s... so, so exciting. 

Will turns on Thong Song and begins to dance provocatively around Emma. The performance ends when Will accidentally trips and Emma falls on top of him.

Emma: Good God! Are you okay?

Will: I’m okay. Are you?

Emma: Oh, yes!

The two chuckled. 

Emma: It’s the darn "Thong Song."

Will laughs: I don’t think it’s the song. I think you need a new dress.

Will: Come on. Upsy-daisy.

Emma: Oh, I’m stuck.

The two doesn’t know that Ken was spying on them from outside the classroom. 

—–—

At football practice Finn was running practice. 

Finn: Let’s try, uh, reverse chair on two.

Azimio: Let’s not.

Finn: Hey, Azimio, I’m the quarterback. I call the plays.

Azimio: Some of the guys was talking, and we’re  starting to question your leadership ability.

Football guy: Yeah, like maybe you’re having trouble making good choices as in, for instance, choosing to join homo explosion.

Finn: Do I need to remind you that Glee Club helped us win our first game of the season?

Azimio: What have you done for me lately?

Football guy: Yeah, we’re taking a bunch of heat, because you like kissing dudes all of a sudden. You’re not being a team player, man.

Azimio: Can’t believe you was man enough to knock up Quinn Fabray. You sure a real man didn’t sneak in there and do it for you?

Finn (snapped): That’s it!

Finn tackled Azimio to the ground and begins to fight. Ken comes in and breaks up the fighting and holds a team meeting. 

Ken: Okay, break it up! Get up!

Football players: Fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight!

Ken separated them up. Ken: Hey, calm down, everybody! On the sidelines and take a knee! Now!

They all took a knee on the sidelines. Ken: What if you had broken Finn’s arm, huh? We'd be worse off and more pathetic than we already are. Where’s Puckerman?

Finn: Uh, he said he had to miss practice today. He’s working on something for Glee Club.

Azimio: Is he working on his coming-out-of-the-closet speech or something?   (Finn pushed him but Matt got in the middle of it. Azimio pushes him back) Hey, man! Don’t push me, man!

Ken: Okay, enough! Football is war and no one single man can win that war, not even if they strap nukes on him. I want you to start acting like a team again! When we won that one game, it wasn’t because we were dancing. It’s because we were of singular purpose. I want you to start hanging more, spend more time together. Which is why, starting next week I’m adding extra practice on Thursdays at 3:30.

Finn: But, Coach, that’s when Glee rehearses.

Ken: You know what? I have had it up to here with Schuester and Glee. Here’s the story, Quarterback and you tell Puckerman this when you see him. That practice is mandatory. No exceptions. So you’re going to have to choose what’s more important to you... football or Glee Club.

—–—

Finn and Quinn are walking down the hallway in sunglasses. 

Finn: Huh! You know, I really think this is working. I think we look super cool.

Quinn: I’m proud of you, Finn. I’m proud of us.

Finn: Yeah. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be popular. It just means you want people to like you. I think that’s healthy.

Quinn: I totally agree.

Finn: Being popular just means you can have it all. 

But Quinn and Finn were ambushed by the football team with slushies in hand.  

Finn: Oh, hey, guys. 

Azimio: You thirsty? 

Finn: Sure. Thanks. (The football team and non team members threw slushies in Finn and Quinn’s faces.) You can’t do this!

Azimio:  Oh, you think that’s bad? Just imagine what’s gonna happen if you don’t show up to practice on Thursday and quit that little Glee Club for good! Bros before hi-hos, dude. Don’t forget that.

—–——

Sue and Will perform a swing dance routine to Sing, Sing, Sing (With a Swing) in the choir room. 

Will: Sue... Whoo! That was amazing. Oh! You know, I have to admit at first when you suggested that I teach you a few steps. I was hesitant. You know, cause how horrible you were to me and the Glee kids when Figgins made you co director.

Sue: Well, live and let learn, my friend. That is ultimately what I got to. It’s nice not being at each other's throats. You know, you’re right. I, Oh, gosh. I don’t know how else to say this, but I’m in love.

Will: Really?

Sue: After one date, Sue Sylvester is in love. Rod has invited me to the Second Annual Allen County Sickle-cell Anemia Dance-a-thon.

Will: Ooh.

Sue: With your tutelage, Will, we can take home that blue ribbon like two prize heifers in love.

Will: I was wondering why you asked for dance lessons.

Sue: Oh, well, Erma just raved about you.

Will: Sue, I’m, I’m actually touched. I mean, you seem so happy and... nice. And you’ve been so cool with Quinn Fabray and her, you know, situation.

Sue: Mmm, yeah, well, she’s just a confused kid and the least I can offer her is my compassion. But, you, mister... (Will chuckled.) The Sue Sylvester who has been obsessed with sabotaging your every move is now just a distant memory. 

Will: That’s great, Sue.

Sue: Now all I feel for you is sympathy. Whether it be for your sham of a marriage or the fact that Coach Tanaka's finally laying down the law with regard to Glee Club.

Will (shocked): Wait. What?

Sue: Yeah. Tanaka-san's making the kids choose. Come on. Let’s be honest. What kid's gonna choose Glee Club over football? It’d be ridiculous. 

—–—–

Will confronts Ken in the boys' locker room about this decision. 

Will: Hey, Ken, you wanna tell me what the hell's goin' on? You know I had a standing Glee rehearsal on Thursday. We sat down and worked out a schedule when some of your guys joined the club.

Ken: Circumstances have changed. I have a serious morale issue with my team. It’s my responsibility to fix it. Sorry if me doing my job interferes with your club.

Will: Ken, we’ve known each other for years. Your commitment to football is about as long as your pants. You know, let’s get into what this is really about. You’re upset that I don’t like your song for your wedding mash-up and you’re right. It’s not my place to have an opinion.

Ken: Why don’t you just cut the crap, Will? You’re not that naive. This is not about a song. It’s about my fiance. You and I, the whole world, knows that I’m just a consolation prize to you. How do you think that makes me feel? Emma's totally into you. Emma is settling for me and I love her so much, I don’t care. But it doesn’t mean I appreciate you coming in with your Gene Kelly charm and gettin' high off of her fawning over you.

Will: I-I have never intentionally encouraged Emma. But I haven’t discouraged her either. You don’t have to worry about it anymore though. So, are we cool, and I’ll have my guys on Thursday again? 3:30?

Ken: So you keep your rehearsal. I’ll keep my practice. We’ll let the kids decide who’s first choice and who’s a consolation prize. 

—–———

Will and Emma are at a bridal shop where Emma is trying on a new wedding dress that she feels will be easier to dance in. 

Will: Are you ready yet? We’ve only got an hour for lunch, Emma.

Emma: It’s not like trying on a pair of jeans, Will.

Will: Well, it doesn't have to be perfect. We just have to see if you can dance in it.

Emma came out wearing a dress that could be a grace Kelly dress.    Emma: Fits okay?

Will (amused): Yeah. Fits great.

Emma: Terrific.       (Looking at her reflection.) 

Will: Yeah, terrific.       (Will thought she looked more then just terrific.)  Uh, so, should we see if you can dance in it?

Emma: Okay.

Will: This is the instrumental version of your wedding song. You can sing along if you want to. It’ll help your footwork. 

Will took Emma in his arms and started to dance. 

Emma: I could have danced all night, I could have danced all night and still have begged for more. I could have spread my wings and done a thousand things I’ve never done before. I’ll never know what made it so exciting, why all at once my heart took flight. I only know when he began to dance with me I could have danced danced danced, all night...

The ending was Will holding Emma tilted backwards, Emma's feelings for Will are evidently clear, and are reinforced when the music stops and she is left standing. 

Will: Yeah, you can dance in it. (He let Emma up who was gasping like she was love.) So, I gotta get goin' . Um, got the big showdown today at 3:30. and, uh I wanna make sure I’m there to support the kids, no matter what happens.

Emma (confused) : Wait, what showdown? I thought... I thought you and Sue had that last week.

Will: Eh... Between me and your fiance. Uh, Ken's told all the football players in Glee that they have to choose between the club and the team. Unless all the guys choose Glee, it looks like we won’t have enough members for sectionals.

Emma: Then Glee is over.

Will: I know. Wish me luck. 

—–—–

Out on the field, Finn was in his uniform and everyone congratulate him. 

#1: Hey, fella.

Finn: Hey, man.

#2: You made the right decision.

#3:  What’s up, dude?

Finn looked at coach Tanaka. 

Ken: Okay, let’s huddle up.

—–—–—

Will approached Finn on the field. 

Will: Hey, Finn, wanna have a catch?

Finn: Sure.

Will: Go long.

The two passed the ball back and forth.    Finn: I’m not coming back.

Will: These are the moments, Finn. They’re the crossroads. They’re the ones you look back at when you get old and think "what if?"

Finn: I don’t buy that. I don’t think any one decision makes your life unless you accidentally invent some kind of zombie virus or something.

Will: No. You’re right. Life's a series of choices. Big combination of moments little ones that add up to big ones that create who you are. You’re lettin' other people make those choices for you, Finn. You’re letting them decide who you’re gonna be. (Will goes up to Finn.) People you’re not even gonna know in three years. People whose names you’re gonna forget when you run into them in the hardware store.

Finn: You don’t understand the kind of pressure I’m under.

Will: Yes, I do. Because of all the students I’ve ever had, you remind me the most of me. Come back to Glee, Finn. It’s where you belong.

—–———

Finn goes to meet Ken  in the locker room. 

Finn: Hey, Coach. Can I talk to you about something?

Ken: You got an itch down there or something?

Finn: What? No. Uh, I’m the quarterback, right? The leader.

Ken: Sure.

Finn: Well, all this stuff about having to choose between Glee and football is making it hard for me to lead. Leaders are supposed to see things that other guys don’t. Right? Like they can imagine a future where things are better. Like Thomas Jefferson or that kid from the Terminator movies. (Finn sits down in front of coach.) I see a future where it’s cool to be in Glee Club. Where you can play football and sing and dance and no one gets down on you for it. Where the more different you are the better.

I guess what I’m tryin' to say is I don’t wanna have to choose between them anymore. It’s not cool.

Ken(gets up and walks to the whiteboard.): Hey, about that Thursday practice. It’s, uh, canceled indefinitely. I got... stuff I gotta do that time. Laundry, things like that.

Finn (smiles): Oh. Sweet.

Ken: Finn. (He faces the adult.) Tell Puckerman and the other guys too, will you?

Finn: Sure. Thanks, Coach.

—––—–

Will was drinking it of a fountain until he heard.

Sue: Schuester! 

Will: Yeah?

Sue: I’ll need to see that set list for sectionals after all. I want it on my desk warm from the laminator at 5:00 p.m and if it is one minute late, I will go to the animal shelter and get you a kitty cat. I will let you fall in love with that kitty cat. And then on some dark, cold night I will steal a way into your home and punch you in the face. (She begins to walk away.) 

Will: Hey Sue.

Sure: What?

Will: Didn’t work out with Rod?

Sue: No, it did not. (Sue walked away from Will and came across Quinn.) Q, take off those sunglasses. I wanna look in your eyes when I give you this piece of business.(Quinn took them offm) You’re off the Cheerios. I can’t have a pregnant girl on my squad. You’re a disgrace.

Quinn begins to cry. 

–—–—–

Will visits Emma in her office. 

Will: Hey.

Emma: Hey.

Will: I wanted to talk to you about your wedding mash-up. I’ve been working really hard on it and I just can't get those two songs to go together.

Emma: Yeah. That’s because they don’t. We both know that. They’re both good songs though.

Will: Great ones.   He goes to leave but Emma stops him. 

Emma: Will, um, I just wanted to say, uh thank you for the dance lessons. 

[writteninscarlet]

"Actually, I don't seem to ever have the time to watch these anymore. I don't suppose they will all be suitable for William - I certainly had my horror movie phase," had she ever grown out of it? "but there should be some interesting tapes there."

With the treasure bag of VHS tapes handed over, Wanda sat back in the seat and took up her cup of tea with both hands. Shifting the cup to one hand, she used her other to push her sunglasses back to their proper position covering her eyes. It was a strange mix of chilly and warm. There was no breeze but there was the sense that snow could perhaps be just around the corner. It wasn't too bad, though maybe so cold they ought to have sat inside the cafe instead of at one of the small tables within - but neither herself (nor hopefully Greer) were interested in being within.

"I keep meaning to catch up more," she said softly, before taking a sip of her drink. Truthfully, there was a lot she would like to do. Greer had been in and out of her life for a long time. There were many occasions she looked back on in her life with sadness, regret, or anger - but just as many that were happy and warm. Working with the West Coast Avengers wasn't easy, but it had opened her op to working with new people and was perhaps when she first really came to understand the ingenious mind of Greer Nelson. Tigra was a formidable foe, and a wonderful friend. She also seemed better at keeping up with people than Wanda.

"I haven't really locked myself away here in Lotkill," she added, almost sheepishly now. "I try to stay in contact. I was just... busy at the start. Adjusting. But I've seen Steve and Tony, and obviously worked on and off with some Avengers as the situation arises. I hear you're kept busy. The Midnight Mission intrigues me." Not in a bad way. Her curiosity was large. What she was doing in Lotkill was similar in it's own way, though Marc had certainly the more established 'business' (for want of a better word). She ought to visit, but she could never tell how a visit from the Scarlet Witch would be taken... Wanda shook her head, flashed Tigra a brighter smile and stated, "So, how are you? How is William?"

closed starter ;; wanda & tigra ( @youllthinktwice )

[thekentuckyhimbo]

Young Once - oneshot

Pairing/s: Chuck Taylor/Orange Cassidy

Word count: 2,827

Rating: T

Fandom: AEW

Story Description: Orange thinks Chuck deserves better, and tries to give it to him in the ring. But what Orange could really give Chuck is so much more.

Author Notes:

I'm pretty sure the Chorange Valentines day thing was past/present/future and I didn't participate in that, but this is based on that concept

Lyrics are The Smith Street Band

Past

"And we were young once

So was everyone

I guess something about it felt important

And we were happy once

So was everyone

I guess I never realized it was so important"

Orange sits on the couch with his legs crossed under himself, eyes fixed to the TV screen - though he couldn't have told you what he was watching. His thin fingers fidgeted in his lap with a thread coming off the seam of his jeans. He twisted it around one of his fingers, tight enough to cut off circulation, shoulders tensed.

When he was at home, he wasn't the lackadaisical, self-assured man that he was in the ring. The one with the confidence to play mind games with his opponents and take his shirt off in front of a crowd of people.

When he was here, Orange Cassidy melted away, perhaps trapped in his signature rayban sunglasses until the next time they were worn. Left behind was a single thirty-five year old man, still living in a shoebox apartment with his best friend, chasing a dream that never quite seemed to materialise.

"Things will get better, man," Chuck would always say, eyes bright like a puppy's.

Chuck meant it, too. That was the thing with him; he was so sincere. Orange had poked fun at it, once, in front of Chuck's other tag partner Trent.

"That's the thing about wrestlers," Trent has said philosophically (he was always philosophical when he was drinking), "if you talk to any of the ones who've made it, they'll tell you they never thought of doing anything else."

But Orange had thought of doing something else. A fact he wasn't sure many in the business knew. He'd gone to college, gotten his degree, and worked professionally in the field of architecture for years. Hell, he was still on a firm's payroll just in case this whole wrestling thing went south.

Chuck didn't have that safety net. Didn't need it. Orange thought of a circus acrobat, swinging high up on the trapeze. How at practice the amateur acrobats would swing with a net below them, but in a real performance the professional acrobats didn't have a net below them. The trapeze wouldn't have been a compelling if the audience had known there was no real danger to it.

Maybe Orange had been reading too many Nightwing comics of late, but to him Chuck's wrestling had always seemed more compelling than his own. Chuck's last civilian job was when he was 19; he'd been making wrestling work as a full-time job for nearly 15 years.

Orange could feel his roommate's eyes on him from the kitchenette behind the couch, but Orange didn't dare turn around. They'd been living together for long enough that Chuck could sense when Orange was in a mood. Orange could sense Chuck's mood too, and without turning around Orange could tell he had that determined look on his face. Eyes narrowed and dark, brow furrowed, lips firmly squeezed into a thin line.

When he'd come in the door a couple hours prior and seen Orange on the couch in the exact same position he was still sitting in now, he'd loudly declared that they were having a movie night and that Chuck was cooking dinner. (Which actually meant they would stare at the Netflix recommendations for 20 minutes while their food got cold and then inevitably just end up watching old WCW tapes on the Network instead.)

It seemed dinner was ready now, because Orange heard the light footfalls of Chuck's bare feet crossing the floorboards to the couch. He set down two plates - orange chicken, funny - and then picked up the remote before flopping onto the couch right beside Orange.

Often when Orange was feeling especially misanthropic he would wriggle away from Chuck's friendly embrace on the couch to sulk at the end of it, but tonight his hip was already bumping up against the armrest and Chuck had sat down right beside him.

Chuck casually flopped an arm over the back of the couch, fingertips brushing Orange's shoulder. It made something in Orange's chest loosen a little, which was annoying. Orange wanted to sulk, but over the years Chuck had become so damn good at cheering him up.

That was another thing about Chuck Taylor. When he wanted something, he got it. Brash and unafraid and risk-taking, Chuck was a general in and outside of the ring.

"Now," Chuck said dramatically, flourishing the remote in his hand until the tip of it was planted playfully on Orange's nose, "what are we watching? Netflix?"

You, Orange thought quietly, then scowled as he pushed that thought firmly out of his brain.

Chuck raised a quizzical eyebrow at Orange's sudden change in expression.

"Right," he said slowly. "WCW it is then."

In spite of himself, Orange smiled a little at that.

Present

"We all work our dream jobs

And I'm not lacking in ambition

I am a building of a person

That's scheduled for demolition"

It was 2022 and AEW's pandemic era had finally ended. Even better, Trent was finally back from his neck injury and the Best Friends faction was back on TV. Orange was sat watching Yuta run drills with Chuck in the ring. Yuta was past the point of needing them, really, but Orange figured he did it to make Chuck feel a little more useful.

Orange's chest felt tight at that thought. Three years ago, if you'd told Orange he would have been the one to main event on TV against Adam Cole in an unsanctioned match, he would have told you that would have been where Chuck would be. If you'd told Orange that Trent would be beating Nick Jackson in a New Japan-style singles match on cable TV on a Friday night, he would have told you I bet him and Chuck will be the next tag champs.

Chuck was the one with all the accolades. Sure, Orange had been IWTV champ, but Chuck had been an IWA Mid-South champion like CM-fucking-Punk. He'd been a PWG champion like nearly every indie darling and WWE champion of the last 10 years had been. Chuck was the one with the Ring of Honor and New Japan runs under his belt. Chuck was a wrestler. Orange was an architect with a hobby.

Of course architecture was no longer his job, Tony Khan's generous contract had given him the opportunity to leave his safety net behind. But surely TK's three year guarantee was just another form of safety net.

And now Orange was one of AEW's biggest hits. When they didn't know what to do to hype up a crowd, they'd send Orange. When they need to raise their revenue, they released new Orange Cassidy merch and it sold like hotcakes.

For a time, Orange had taken Chuck along with him; Chuck coming out alongside him, doing faction merch so that Chuck and the others would see a cut of the profits. But it seemed like the booking had taken other ideas now.

Orange watched Chuck run the ropes with Yuta, the way his body moved like someone who was born to be in the ring. Orange still remembered Chuck when he was young enough and green enough that the ropes would bruise his ribcage and he'd invite Orange to touch them on drunken nights where they slept in the car because the shows they were doing paid in exposure.

Orange still remembered Chuck quitting his job at nineteen because it hurt his wrestling schedule. Orange remembered not having the guts to quit his.

Chuck leapt over Yuta with ease, graceful as an acrobat; graceful as he had been in his 20s. And sure, maybe the young guys had caught up and out-classed his dropkick, but Chuck was a goddamn pioneer of indie wrestling of the last two decades.

Chuck, who had moved to Philly to chase his dreams. Chuck, who never flew with a safety net. Chuck, who had always dragged Orange along for the ride, who came up with half of Orange's gimmick, who never felt bitter about being relegated to the YouTube shows.

This last year it might have looked like Orange was taking Chuck along for the ride. But the truth is, Orange wouldn't have been a wrestler without Chuck - definitely not one on TV.

I don't deserve this, Orange thought to himself.

Just then, Chuck paused for a moment to pull up his wrestling tights by the belt. More guys from the back had come out to watch and warm up themselves, and no doubt Chuck felt their eyes on him. Guys 10 years younger getting twice as much screen time. Guys who could eat anything and maintain their figure.

The thing is, Orange liked the way Chuck looked now. A little softer around the edges, a little more to grab a hold of (and if Orange did grab a little during their hugs in the ring, no one had noticed yet). Chuck had greyed around the temples, but it reminded Orange of all the years they'd spent together, and of all the knowledge and skill Chuck had accumulated. A ring general should look like your daddy- dad.

But this year, Orange's contract would almost certainly get renewed, but Chuck's might not. And what then?

They'd already made the decision to move into separate apartments because they'd finally made enough money to do so. And every day where Orange didn't see Chuck felt like a month.

He'd thought this feud with the Super Kliq might have been their chance, which was why Orange had main evented with Cole. He wanted to see Chuck and Trent face the Bucks, for Kris to get another shot at Britt's title, for Yuta to get the rub. But it seemed like the roster had just become too bloated with talent - guys who'd grown up watching tapes, who'd learned everything they knew from guys like Chuck.

That bitter thought put a deep frown on his face.

It was then that he realised Chuck was no longer in the ring. He was knelt beside the apron, staring at Yuta go a couple rounds with one of the local guys who would be on Elevation next week. But Chuck wasn't watching Yuta, he was peering at Orange (who was seated in the stands) over his sunglasses.

When Orange caught his eye, Chuck stood up and started to make his way over.

Fifteen years of friendship and Chuck could damn near read Orange's mind.

Chuck sat down in the seat beside him, posture unusually stiff.

"I know," Chuck began to say.

Orange was already finishing Chuck's sentence in his head. I know you think we deserve a shot, but so do all those young guys down there. I know you feel guilty, but I'm so happy for you.

But that's not what Chuck said.

"I know I don't look as good as I used to, but I'm doing my best, man."

Years ago, Chuck had earned himself the moniker of "low-self", much like Colt Cabana, for how often he talked negatively about himself. But the last few years that had eased off, and it had been nearly ten years since he'd been that way with Orange. Between Chuck and Orange, they both knew exactly how good Chuck was.

It was rare for Orange to see his friend looking so vulnerable. It caught Orange off-guard, and it took him a long time to reply. Chuck was patient with him (as always) and buried his hands in his pockets as he waited for a response.

"You look perfect," Orange finally said simply.

It probably wasn't the response Chuck was looking for, but it was true.

Chuck didn't respond, so Orange chanced a glance in his direction. Chuck was just staring at him, his face open.

"You make it look as easy as breathing," Orange said quietly, voice going soft.

Chuck didn't say anything, but he reached out his hand so that it brushed Orange's left thigh, skin on denim. Orange slid his hand up from his knee and placed it on his leg where his fingers could just touch Chuck's.

They left them there for a while, so many things still unsaid.

Future

"There are more open doors

Now than there have ever been

So let 'em close

And jump out the window with me

Worst case scenario

We land hand in hand on the street

But imagine if we flew

How beautiful we'd let that be?"

Orange felt like he was in a dream. His ears were ringing and his head was swimming. The sound of the crowd tonight was intoxicating, deafening. It reminded him of those pivotal moments in AEW's history, like when Punk had debuted or the Bucks had dropped the belts to the Lucha Bros.

This was one of those stories that felt like it was decades in the making.

Orange tapped the red and gold belt around his waist, in sheer disbelief that he was holding a title in this company. Standing ringside and taking in the match and the capacity crowd through his sunglasses, he felt like the indie comedy wrestler he'd been in the previous decade.

But Beyond and Chikara felt like lifetimes ago. He could barely remember the Gentleman's Club. All he could remember now was what the crowd kept chanting: Best Friends, Best Friends. Then, at a pivotal moment in the match as a hot tag was made: Chuckie T, Chuckie T.

In the end, Trent got the pin, but that wasn't what matter. The crowd counted with them, their whole hearts invested in Chuck and Trent winning as much as Orange's was.

Orange saw the pin happen in slow motion. Bryce's count of 1, 2, 3. In Orange's mind there was no way that could be the finish, even though he'd known the outcome before the match had even started. Then the bell rang at the timekeeper's table right beside Orange, and it stunned him into laughter.

Matt and Nick lay crumpled on the mat, bodies already bruising from the thirty-minute massacre they'd just taken part in. Orange had to step over Brandon Cutler, who'd been taken out by Yuta on the outside, to get into the ring.

Trent, forever the WWE guy, was trying to have his moment with dignity for the cameras. He held up one half of the AEW tag team championships in one hand and reached for Chuck's with the other. Chuck took it, but could barely raise his own belt because he was crying so hard.

Orange took his place in the corner of the ring, just like they'd planned, watching Yuta and Kris take their places as well. The crowd was so loud Orange could barely hear himself think.

It wasn't until he began to cross the ring towards the newly crowned AEW tag team champions that Orange realised he was crying too.

They embraced and posed for the hardcam, Orange putting up an obligatory thumb even though it probably looked insane as tears streamed out from under his sunglasses.

They separated and Trent was giving Yuta a long-overdue handshake while Kris clapped him on the back and suggested she lift Trent up onto her shoulders in celebration. Chuck turned and threw his arms around Orange, panting and sweating, leaning on Orange like he'd fall over if he didn't hold tight enough.

"I LOVE YOU," Orange shouted in Chuck's ear to be heard over the noise of the crowd.

Chuck's mouth was right up against his ear when he replied, still out of breath, "I love you too."

After a long celebration they made it to the back, and Chuck collapsed on the floor by the nearest wall. Trent was debriefing with the Bucks down the hallway, but Chuck had settled behind a pile of boxes so that he could lean against them.

Chuck still had tears in his eyes when he breathed, "Nice belt."

Orange would have laughed, but something in Chuck's eyes went dark and whatever joke Orange was going to make in return got caught in his throat.

Orange felt like he was a building that was being demolished. Everything he knew, or thought he knew - about himself, about wrestling, about Chuck - was crashing down.

But Chuck looked so good with that shiny gold belt around his waist, his intense post-match eyes planted firmly on Orange. The building was being demolished, but rebuilt in its place was something truly beautiful.

For most of his adult life, Chuck's friendship had been Orange's safety net. He didn't need anyone else if he had Chuck. But tonight, the safety net was cut away and Orange flew without it for the first time.

Sheltered by the boxes, Orange leaned forward and kissed Chuck. Chaste but firm, squarely on the lips. Chuck, who knew Orange better than Orange knew himself, simply leaned his head back against the wall and smiled, eyes dropping closed.

"'Bout time," he muttered. "Now we can really get started."

With the safety net pulled from under their trapeze, everything was at stake now. At any moment they could drop and their whole world could shatter around them. But with that, their act just got a whole lot more compelling.

Orange leaned against Chuck's tired body; a pile of flesh and sweat that Trent soon came to fall into as well. If Trent had noticed anything between the two of them, he didn't say anything. Not that Orange thought he would care right now anyway.

Orange smiled, knowing the best was yet to come.

[jeyramarie]

The forbidden zone- Pogue x OC

summary: It’s time to look for the wreck and the weather won’t stop them.

wc: 4,752

a/n: here it is! as requested 😁 @halsmultibitch and i have so so many ideas. we can’t wait for all of you to read it!! happy reading 🦋

prologue~ pilot~ the lucky compass

Previously on Good Life...

Lani had volunteered to climb into it since she was the smallest. Once inside she asked for a flashlight due to it being so dark. She looked around for a bit until she found an envelope leaned against the wall. 

“Oh my god.” she whispered as she stared at it. ‘To Bird.’ it read. 

John B stared at the envelope in adoration, perfectly knowing it was from his dad. JJ helped Lani out of the tomb as a cold breeze ran through the trees making her shiver. 

“Holy shit. This is from my dad.” He said and looked around as his friends while JJ lit his blunt, puffing some smoke. Suddenly, car headlights came into view coming their way. 

“Code red. Code red. Square groupers!” JJ said desperately as he walked backwards to his friends. 

“Oh my god, go.” Lani said, pulling Kie’s arm to hide next to the tomb. They all got down and fidgeted with their flashlights to turn them off. 

“Light!” 

“Turn it off, John B!” the curly haired kook exclaimed as she saw the pogue jam the flashlight up his shirt. JJ turned off his cigarette against the wall as they all stayed there quietly. The car came to a stop as a man climbed out.

“I think I see something!” He shouted to the other person in the car as JJ and Pope peeked their heads out, trying to see. 

“Is it them?” Lani whispered to the boys feeling fear in the pit of her stomach. 

“Homie’s got a gun.” JJ whispered as he turned back to lean against the wall. 

“Oh fuck this.” Fallon muttered as she stood up before running off. John B immediately followed, then Kie, Lani, JJ and finally, Pope. Everyone made it over the fence successfully until Pope’s pants got stuck. Of course he’s the one that gets stuck, classic Pope. 

“Guys, guys. I’m stuck!” He said as he desperately tried to free himself from the fence. 

“I got you, buddy.” Lani said as she came for his rescue alongside John B. They used all they’re strength to get him out causing the pants to start ripping. 

“Guys, you’re gonna rip me.” 

“Pope, don’t move okay?” JJ said as he held up his gun towards the pogue. 

“JJ, what the fuck? Put that down, man.” John B pushed his arm down making the blonde put the gun back in his cargo shorts. 

“No, no. You’re gonna rip me. No! You’re ripping me!” and with that Pope fell from the fence leaving his shorts hanging. 

“Oh my god.” Lani laughed as she walked backwards to get to the car. 

“Hey, it's a little Tootsie roll!” JJ shouted, making everyone laugh as they all ran to the car. Fallon opened the door waiting for them to get closer.

“Get in.” Kie laughed as she saw Pope climbing in in his underwear. 

“What the hell happened?” Fallon slid the door close and turned to Pope who was frowning in annoyance. 

“You don’t wanna know.” he groaned as he sat at the chair at the back of the van. They went back to the Chateau, quickly clearing a space to look at what the envelope had. JJ ran to the kitchen looking for food since he hasn’t eaten all day. He found some bread, some peanut and jelly making his eyes sparkle as his stomach growled. 

“That bread has had mold for like a week.” Lani said as she opened her water bottle to take a sip. 

“I’ll just pull off the bad parts. Plus, mold is good for you. It’s just a natural organism.” he said, picking up the sandwich and moving to take a bite off of it, receiving a disgusted look from the kook. 

“Guys!” Kie called as John B pulled out a map from the envelope. 

“We’re going.” Lani said walking out of the kitchen with JJ trailing behind her as he took a bite off the sandwich. 

“Mmm.” JJ muttered and then gagged as he spit out the piece of moldy bread. 

“Told you not to eat it.” The kook with her arms crossed made the pogue pull out the middle finger. The pogue opened the map to see coordinates, scribbled lines and an x. 

“Well, x marks the spot.” Fallon said, pointing her finger on the map. 

“Longitud, latitud… wait, there's something else in there.” John B said as he traced his finger along the lines before dropping it and picking up the envelope again. He reached in and pulled out a tape recorder. 

“What’s that?” JJ asked in confusion. 

“It’s a tape recorder, J.” Lani said, looking at him and chuckling a bit. The pogue held the recorder for a bit more and started playing it to reveal his dad’s voice. Big John talked about the Royal Merchant, how he found it. He actually found it, which was a huge surprise to everyone, including John B. Once the recorder stopped, the room was filled with silence until JJ broke it. 

“Holy shit, he found it! Big John…. He found the Merchant.” He lifted his arms in excitement as Lani stood up straight and forcefully lowered his arms.

“Can you not right now, JJ?” Fallon said, running her hand through her hair. John B stood up and leaned against the door as he began to cry. Kie went to his side and hugged him, giving him comfort as his tears continued to roll down his cheeks. 

A few hours later, everyone was found on the docks. Kie was playing her ukulele, Lani was sketching Pope and everyone else drinking beer in silence. 

“How much was it again?” JJ asked and sipped from his beer can before tossing it aside. 

“Four hundred mil.” Lani said never parting her eyes from the sketchbook as she erased the eyebrow to fix it’s arch. 

“All right, let’s talk split. Now, before we say “evenly” may I remind you that I am the only one that can probably defend us from those square groupers that were after us. Protection? Not cheap, okay?” He said, holding his gun up for everyone to see trying to make a point. 

“You haven’t trained. You’ve done zero training.” Fallon crossed her arms leaning against the railing. 

“Youtube, Fal.” he winked at the caramel haired pogue making her stick out her tongue making him chuckle. 

“You haven’t-” Pope started objecting when JJ cut him off.

“Any objections? Didn’t think so.” Lani and Kie were holding up their hands in objection but were ignored by the pogue.

“There’s a couple objections.” 

“I don’t hear any so…”

“Okay well, what are you gonna do with 66 mil Pope?” Fallon said, cutting him off and she sat down on the floor. 

“Pay for college in advance. And also, textbooks. Those are expensive.” 

“What about you, Kie?” 

“Yeah, what does a socalist do when she’s rich?” Lani asked, smirking at the pogue who chuckled at her question. 

“Just wanna make a double album. About the OBX, the pogues. You know, the way Catch a Fire is about Kingston. Record it in Marley studio, Peter Tosh producing. And before you say anything Pope, yes I know Peter Tosh is dead.” The pogue lifted his hands in surrender as he laughed at her last comment. 

“Lani? What about you?” John B asked, leaning back on his beach chair as he opened a new beer can. 

“I’m not sure what she would want. She’s already rich.” Fallon muttered under her breath making the kook frown as her face fell making her look at her sketchbook.

“Well, you’re rich too but you don’t see me making comments about it.” Everyone opened their eyes and muttered ‘ooo’s’ as Lani looked at John B to answer his question. 

“I wanna go to Italy, get a house by the beach. Not even a house, I want a cute little hud with a window facing the ocean. So, I can paint and eat all the pasta I can get.” she said and raised her beer can in the form of the toast before sipping from the cold beverage. 

“Fal, your turn.” JJ smiled, turning his head towards her as he fidgeted with his lighter. 

“I’m gonna leave Outer Banks. I’ve only felt trapped here. So, I wanna go and I don’t know… escape life, I guess.” John B nodded and lifted his beer can in agreement while the blonde pogue nodded too. 

“I know what I’ll do. I’m gonna get a big ass house on Figure Eight and go full Kook.” 

“Full kook?” “You are not going full kook.” Lani and Fallon said at the same time, making him laugh.

“Yes, full kook. I’m gonna get a big statue of myself and a koi pond with a bunch of fish.” He said making circular movements with his hands as he described the pond. 

“You know I’m never visiting right?” Kie said, placing her ukulele back on her lap. 

“What are you gonna do, John B?” Lani asked, leaning towards Pope, handing him the portrait she made. 

“To going full Kook.” he smiled as he stood up and held his beer can up causing everyone else to hold up their beverages too. 

“To going full Kook.” They hollered and laughed as the night went by smoothly. Lani was starting to feel like part of the group now which made her very happy since she was never the girl to have a bunch of friends. All of her ‘friends’ were the children of her parents' business partners, whom she never really liked. 

The next day came around, sunny as ever giving the pogues the perfect idea to go on a boat ride on the marsh. They got ready in record time with their swimsuits and the cooler filled with drinks and the ice Pope brought from his dad’s store. They picked up Kie at her house’s dock first and then Lani, who wasn’t far. As they sailed through the marsh, getting to their favorite spot, JJ spotted two kooks on their own new boat. 

“Holy shit. You guys see that? That’s the Malibu 24-MXZ, the world’s finest wakesetter. Number one in luxury, quality and performance. That’s 200k easy.” He said squinting his eyes behind his sunglasses moving his head to his friends and back at the kooks. 

“No, here comes Malibu Barbie and Ken.” Fallon tilted her head as she laughed at her joke. 

“You don’t have to act like you don’t see us, bitch.” Kie said as she looked at Sarah while the boats crossed paths. The blonde kook waved and smiled at Lani causing her to do the same thing.

“Of course, you wave at her.” the caramel haired pogue scoffed in annoyance.

“Says the one who’s friends with Rafe.” Pope muttered under his breath loud enough for the pogue to hear and blush.  

“She’s been nothing but nice to me. I have no hate against her.” The kook shook her head as she continued sketching. Most of the day was spent swimming, drinking and planning on how to get a computer with the Internet in order to find the coordinates from Big John’s map. After the marsh, they all went back to the Chateau to get dressed so they could begin their trip to the hotel JJ worked at. Everyone got into the van making their way to their destination as they jammed to Kie’s favorite reggae music and JJ’s classic rock playlist. 

“All right, we should keep a lookout. We’re behind enemy lines.” JJ said as he pulled his gun out from the glove department while they parked outside. 

“Come on, man. Just put it back.”John B said, turning off the car as he ran a hand through his hair. 

“What?”

“JJ-”

“You can never be too careful.” he muttered as the door slid open for Pope to climb out. 

“Bringing a gun to a four star hotel will cause more problems than actually solve.” The curly haired pogue said as he leaned against the door next to JJ. He muttered a ‘thanks’ before Lani popped her head in between John B and the blonde.

“JJ, put that shit away or I'll throw it in the ocean.” She said and quickly got out of the van as John B ripped the gun off of JJ’s hand, putting it back where it was. 

“Okay, let’s go.” Fallon shouted as she closed the van door ready to walk in.

“Wait! Can’t forget my badge.” the blonde pogue smiled and pulled out his employee ID.

“Professional busboy.” Kie rolled her eyes and continued to walk behind Lani who was already halfway to the entrance. They walked in through the back into the kitchen where a few of JJ’s co-workers said hi and asked him how he was doing, some eyeing Fallon which was an everyday occurrence for her. After going up a few stairs, they finally made it to the lobby and walked towards a semi secluded room with computers. 

“Sweet lord, the Internet.” Pope said, running towards the device almost like he was gonna hug and kiss it. 

“Let me get in there. Check on my insta models.” JJ said as he leaned down next to Pope making Lani chuckle as she sat down.

“What insta models?” Fallon questioned as her arms crossed over her chest.

“No one, no one.” he muttered, never parting his eyes from the screen. They started looking for the coordinates written on the map and found how deep that part of the ocean was. To get there, they needed some type of submarine to be able to find the Royal Merchant. JJ gave the idea of getting the drone at the salvage yard where his dad used to work. On the way to the salvage yard, Pope couldn’t help but comment on how real or fake this wild goose chase was. 

“So, what’s it gonna be? Fantasy or reality?” 

“Fantasy.” Fallon muttered as she rolled JJ’s blunt. 

“Fantasy but possible reality.” Kie stared at John B through the rear view mirror with sad eyes, feeling pity for her best friend. 

“Both.” Lani said rummaging through her bag as she placed her sketchbook and pencils back. 

“Virtual reality.” JJ groaned as he leaned forward to grab the blunt. 

“Reality.” the shaggy haired pogue said, turning his head to look at the kook sitting in the passenger seat. Lani stared at him and gave him a sad smile as the van came to a stop not too far from the salvage yard. They ran over the plan one more time, making sure everyone understood. Especially JJ, he had a tendency of improvising everything. Lani got out of the van first, throwing her bag over her shoulder as she crossed the street to Kie’s car. Fallon slid the van door open and stepped out but was held back by a muscular hand. 

“Can’t Kie go?” JJ asked worriedly not liking the idea of his lifelong crush distracting a man with her looks. 

“No, she can’t and it’s not like you care anyway.” she spat out as she pulled her hand away from the pogue, slamming the door shut. The kook was putting her things in the car, making sure everything was rightfully placed when she turned to ask the pogue a question.

“Hey, Kie did you see th- You’re not Kie.” Lani said as she noticed her partner for that crima wasn’t who she thought. 

“I’m not thrilled about this either but they made me, so let’s just get it over with.” the pogue said bitterly as she got in the passenger seat leaving the kook alone and confused. The short ride to the salvage yard was filled with tension and awkward silence. Neither of them know what to say. 

“Should I go call him or do you-”

“I’ll go.” Fallon spat dryly, cutting Lani off as she quickly got out of the car. The kook sat there staring at the pogue as she walked towards the gate giving her some time to sigh and think to herself ‘this is harder than i thought’. After a few seconds, the gates opened cueing her to get out of the car and stand by the flat tire. The rest of the pogues were hiding by the gates as they saw the scene unfold. 

“It’s not weird, awkward or anything.” John B whispered, never parting his eyes from the girls as he answered Pope’s question. 

“I told you she wasn’t into you.” Kie said suddenly which confused JJ more. 

“Who isn’t into you?”

“He kissed Fallon.” Pope whispered immediately, opening his eyes wide realizing what he had done. JJ’s nostrils flared as anger burst through his body. 

“Well, she can kiss whoever she wants. She’s not dating anyone.” he said with gritted teeth as he gripped the wood harder. 

“Yeah, it’s just us.” Lani smiled, answering the guard’s question while leaning against the boat. He stared at them for a long time, moving his eyes from their legs up to their faces and back to the tire. Suddenly, barks came from the yard making the guard stand up and turn to the gate. 

“Tebow’s got something.” 

“Oh no, I don't think so.” Fallon said, placing a piece of hair behind her ear. 

“Yeah, maybe it’s a racoon.” Lani nodded and smiled, giving the man enough reassurance to go back to the tire. They noticed that he was finishing way too fast which meant that the boys could get caught but luckily, Fallon had an idea. 

“Oh, I forgot to call my mom. I’ll be right back.” she said before disappearing around the boat making it look like she was grabbing her phone. When in reality, she was using a hairpin to deflate the other tire. Fallon stayed like that for a bit not realizing how long she took until she heard Lani’s protest to the guard. 

“No, she’s talking with her mom. Something private. Sh-she’s probably crying!” The kook shouted as the guard pushed her aside as saw Fallon defaulting the tire on purpose , giving him the realization of what was going on. He began walking backwards as the girls looked at him holding their hands up trying to keep him from running. But of course, that failed miserably as the man bolted towards the gate making the girls run to the inside of the car. 

“Shit! Shit! He’s gonna call the cops. We need to tell them.” Fallon closed the door and put her seat belt on as Lani turned on the car. 

“Just call Kie, we have to go.” and with that, she drove out of there leaving the pogues behind. After a while, they all met back at the Wreck feeling all of their stomachs growl. Kie immediately hugged her dad when he saw him as the pogues walked towards the tables. 

“Hey, Mike.” Lani waved sweetly as she walked towards the counter.

“Hey, how’s John doing?”

“Oh, he’s good. Just working with mom a lot.”

“That’s really nice. Can I get you anything?”

“Can I have the turkey sandwich? With fries?” she smiled, reaching into her purse to pull out her wallet. Mike nodded and walked away into the kitchen. Fallon stared at the whole interaction, feeling pissed on how Lani had “stolen” everything from her. The kook paid and left a $5 tip before walking towards the pogues, who were starting to sit down. 

The restaurant closed, only leaving them in there to eat. Kie turned up the radio as one of her favorite songs came on. She pointed at John B which resulted in them dancing. JJ stood up to throw something away when he saw Lani’s drawing, again. Giving him the perfect idea, to dance with her. 

JJ tapped her shoulder making her turn around as he extended his hand for her to grab. Lani timidly looked around and placed her hand on his, making him grab it immediately as he pulled her out of the chair. JJ started dancing with her as well as making funny faces to make her laugh. Fallon wasn’t laughing, at all. If looks could kill, there would be two dead bodies already. 

JJ swung her around and dipped as she laughed hysterically at the gesture since she has never really danced with anyone. As this all happened, Pope and Fallon sat drinking beers alone. He turned to her and raised his bottle to toast, making her chuckle. The bottles clinked together and they drank from it as the song ended. 

“Well, let’s get going guys.” John B announced as it was getting late. They threw away the wrappers and paper cups before stepping outside. Lani left with Kie since they lived close by to each other, which left Fallon with the boys.

“I think I’m gonna walk home.” she said as they got into the van.’

“You’re not gonna walk.” JJ refused, stepping out of the Twinkie.

“I am gonna walk. I need to think and some time alone.” and with that she walked away ignoring the pogue’s calls. 

“Just give her some space, man.” Pope said as he got in the Twinkie making JJ get back in and slam the door shut. Fallon walked hugging her figure as the cold night breeze went through the trees. She was reflecting on the day, about how Lani was actually nice to her but then her thoughts drifted to seeing her dance with JJ. Suddenly, car headlights shone behind her as the vehicle stopped next to her. The window rolled down to reveal Rafe.

“Hey Fal, what are you doing walking alone?” 

“Hi, I just… um.. Just needed to clear my head.” 

“Well, get in. Let me drive you home.” He said and leaned over to open the door for her. Fallon was hesitant at first but somehow felt comfort once she went inside the car. Rafe began to drive and kept looking at her and back at the road. 

“You look good.” he said, making her smile and slightly blush. 

“Stop doing that, Rafey.” 

“Doing what?” 

“Complimenting me to distract me.” 

“I just wanna make you feel better, that’s all.” he stared at the road as Fallon looked at him. She grabbed his hand making him look at her.

“Thank you for that, really.” 

“No problem.” The ride to Figure 8 was short and filled with comfortable silence. Once they pulled into the driveway, Rafe lowered the volume of the radio and turned to Fallon who was getting her bag ready. 

“Thank you for driving me.” she smiled as he nodded and gave her a small smirk. Suddenly, she leaned in and kissed his cheek, making him blush. 

“Goodnight, Rafe.” and with that she got out of the car, waving at him once she opened her front door. The kook stayed there for a bit, still feeling euphoric by the kiss. He smiled widely as he changed his car to R, making his way home. 

The next day, Pope wanted to try out the drone, making everyone go to the Chateau. It was like seeing a child open his christmas gift and seeing that it was what they asked for. Excited was an understatement. Kie, Fallon and John B swam around for a bit while JJ, Lani and Pope stayed on the dock to test it out. They wanted to make sure the camera was looking HD, that it’s motor was functioning and that nothing was broken. 

“What’s this?” JJ asked as he touched a button from the panel that controls the drone. 

“Don’t touch that. I’m trying to work out this thing.” Pope said, slapping the blonde pogue’s away. 

“God bless geeks, Pope. Truly, man. What would we do without you to control the drones?” he asked as he leaned against the railing while Lani chuckled in the background, still standing next to Pope. 

“It’s not a drone. It’s an ROV.”

“Shut up, shut up. It’s too early for that right now.” 

“It’s 12 in the afternoon, JJ.” Lani smiled as she lifted her head and looked at the blonde who shrugged and turned back to the marsh. The conversation turned to mention lawyers once the wreckage was found. Loud thunders would be heard as the pogues climbed out of the marsh. 

“In the wrong weather, it’s gonna get pushed around.” Lani stated as she squinted her eyes looking at the sky. A big gray cloud was going over the OBX making the kook feel a bit anxious. 

“Then we’ll go at dead calm.” John B suggested wrapping himself in a towel. Right after that, thunder interrupted his thoughts as it filled everyone’s ears. 

“Well, today’s not the day.” JJ said, looking at the sky. 

The next day had perfect weather which was also perfect to look for the Royal Merchant. Pope asked his dad for his boat and surprisingly, Heyward said yes. Which gave him the responsibility to pick everyone up. JJ took over the wheel and Lani stayed with him in the cabin while everyone else got the equipment ready. 

“All right, JJ! Pin it here!” John B shouted as the blonde nodded. 

“Roger that! X marks the spot.” he said and stared at Lani who was already staring at him with slightly scared eyes. 

“All right, ladies and gentleman. To going full kook.” The shaggy haired pogue smiled as Kie started lowering the drone into the water, immediately giving Pope a clear image of the ocean. It kept going down as John B checked the location of the boat hence the constant screaming.

“JJ, you're right over it. Ten seconds northwest!” 

“Got it!” the blonde shouted back as he steered the wheel in a quick speed making Lani be on the verge of falling over him once the boat turned. He chuckled at the kook causing her to roll her eyes.

“Careful there.”

“Yeah, yeah.” 

“One hundred feet!” Fallon shouted as she helped Kie lower the rope. Pope gasped in fear as he saw many animals which caused John B to be on edge. Inside the cabin, Lani and JJ were in comfortable silence as she stared at him. 

“Are you okay?” she asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah.” 

“Sorry, I asked, I just… you’re wearing a sweatshirt.. It's the middle of June.” Lani looked at JJ with worried eyes as he hesitated for an answer. Not wanting to tell her about his dad. 

“Four hundred feet!” Kie shouted, interrupting JJ’s thoughts as he turned to look back at the front of the boat. Thunder was heard all around as they all stared at the sky. 

“Guys, the tide’s turning.” Fallon said to John B making him look down at the boat monitor. 

“JJ, ten seconds easy, south-southeast.”

“Copy that.” the blonde replied as he turned the wheel again making Lani trip and crash into him. JJ extended his arm and stood her up, pulling her to between him and the wall.

“Stay there, k?” she nodded and chuckled a bit, making him smile. 

“JJ, 20 second mid speed, south.”

“Copy that! Aye, aye, cap.” The pogue kept steering and steering the wheel, not receiving any feedback from John B. 

“John B! Is That good?” Lani shouted from the cabin as JJ focused on the wheel.

“Yeah, we’re good!” He shouted only his thumb up. The shouts kept coming back and forth as a trom approached the boat. Thunder got louder and winds got stronger making it harder for the female pogues to handle the rope as JJ tried to keep the boat at the right position. 

“There’s too much current!” Kie shouted holding onto the rope, afraid that it would leave her grip. 

“We’re gonna lose it!” Fallon shouted as she lowered the drone a bit more. 

“No, we're not! Steady at this bearing, JJ!” John B shouted as the blonde followed instructions. The shouting went on as the girls yelled how far the drone was. 

“You should be seeing something, man.” he told Pope as he looked closely at the screen. 

“I know, I know! Wait.. oh God.” A silence filled the boat as the boys stared at the screen closely.

“What the hell is going on?” Lani asked under her breath looking at the boys. JJ turned his head and got confused as he quickly turned back to look at the storm. 

“Do you see anything?” he asked, suddenly hearing the boys laugh in cheer. 

“It’s the Royal Merchant!” John B shouted in victory as he saw the wreckage on the screen feeling as if his father was standing right there with him. 

good life: @ilovefandoms102 @agardenofbooks @cloverrover

[burning-clutch]

Shielded From The Truth

Cross posted on A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30441042 -.-.-.-.- Warnings: Mild wounds. Number two in the phic phight! When his parents put a shield up around Casper high to keep the ghosts out, and it means that Danny’s day hardly goes to plan. And he was so close to being on time for once too…. PHIC PHIGHT 2021 For team ghost! -.-.-.-.-.- Prompt by: Silverwing013 Danny's parents have kindly offered to set up a ghost shield generator for Casper High. Hijinks ensue as Danny attempts to handle the situation. 

-.-.-.-.-.-

Danny groaned as he only half listened to his parents rattle off whatever ghost nonsense they were going on about as he ate his breakfast. A bowl of dry cereal because the milk was contaminated and he really didn’t want to chance it giving him more than a stomach ache. This had become the norm this week it seemed as his parents seemed invested more than usual into the ghost shields that they had been working on and improving.

Why only shields? They would be installing one in the school soon… but beyond that? He wasn’t sure. They probably told him, sure, but being a teenager and one that had parents that hated half of him, had the effect of making him only lightly listen to the weapons and things that were meant to fully kill him off. That and at least the ghost shields weren’t usually a hindrance to him, in fact, they had proven themselves useful on a few occasions.

Plus he had the added advantage of being able to simply return to his human form and slip through the shield with little issue. Given his parents had no knowledge of half ghosts existing, at least he hoped not, they shouldn’t be designing a ghost and human shield. After all, that would defeat the purpose, right? It wasn’t as if Amity really had any human threats anymore.

Well, regardless of the eccentricities of his parents he could at least take some comfort in the fact that Skulker couldn’t simply attack the school to get to him any longer.

Small mercies he supposed.

Danny blinked as his father said something to him before slapping him on his back causing the teen to practically choke on his cereal from the force of the smack. “Isn’t that just great Dann-o?” the large man exclaimed happily before looking at his son expectantly. Oh great, he wanted him to ask something? Great.

“S-Sure” Danny choked out as he flailed, grabbing in front of him for the orange juice he had nabbed from the fridge, it thankfully hadn’t been in there long enough to start glowing… yet…

He shook his head as he finally got his breath back without inhaling dry cereal pieces into his lungs. When he was sure he wasn’t going to sound like some dollar store squeaky toy he tried to ask his parents a question, always a dreadful time if he were honest, but hey, he would usually be late for school anyway.

“So this will go around the whole school?” Danny tried weakly.

“Yep! And the best part is it’ll sense where there's an evil ectoplasmic entity nearby and spring up instantly! We made sure there won’t be a ghost within Twenty feet of the school before that puppy jumps up to the rescue! Like a big Fenton airbag!” Jack exclaimed all too enthusiastically for what the current time in the AM should allow a normal person to exhume.

Danny hummed noncommittally and sent a glance of ‘help me’ to his sister, who, in turn, rolled her eyes at her little brother. “And the shield even uses the ghost’s power to run the shield right?” Jazz asked side eyeing her father from her own spot not wanting to fully engage in the conversation they were having.

“Oh, yea! That’s the best part!” Jack practically cheered out.

“And the stronger the evil skum is the faster the shield will react and sooner it will be picked up. It will only go off on a level three or higher.” Maddie explained with a pleasant smile as she sips at her coffee.

“And we got it all finished last night to be ready for you kids today” Jack added happily.

“Hooray, more fun on a Monday” Danny sighed out into his last bites of cereal. Jazz snorted but didn’t comment, though Danny blew her a childish raspberry.

Jack continued to go on about the more intricate details of the shield they had put up though only one thing really caught his attention in the spiel, “-And Vladdie helped with the funding to outfit the school! Even helped us get the materials we needed to make such a large shield!”

“Ah, there it is…” Danny groaned letting his head fall forward onto the table in instant defeat.

“Danny! I really wish you would learn not to stay up so late playing video games! Look at you! If I get another call from one of your teachers about you sleeping in class-” Maddie started only for Danny to cut her off jumping to his feet.

“Yep! Thanks for that, mom! Look at the time! Love you bye!” Danny prattled off quick as could be before grabbing his book bag by his feet and bolting like a scared rabbit. After all, if his mother never finished that sentence when he inevitably fell asleep he couldn’t be grounded… she never officially gave him the last warning…

That’ll work, right?

It wasn’t long when he was out of the house that he was at his usual waiting spot for Sam and Tucker. Unsurprisingly, Sam got there first though they didn't have to wait long for Tucker to lumber forward, half asleep to his friends, and together they made their way towards the school as a unit.

Things seemed well enough until he got onto the stairs leading up to the main doors. That was when all hell broke loose. A deep alarm sounded before his father’s voice rang out from the speakers, in his over the top cheery way that only Jack Fenton knew how to pull off.

“Attention kids! Guess there’s an evil spook nearby so we’re deploying the shield! This ghost protection was brought to you by Fenton-works and sponsored by your mayor!”

Danny frowned. “My ghost sense didn’t go off…” He mentioned quietly to his friends.

“Maybe the shield sensors are more sensitive than you are?” Tucker asked with a frown.

“Since when?” Sam argued incredulously.

“Well who or whatever it is, it isn’t bothering me right now and no one’s screaming, no one’s panicking, so it can wait. I’m actually going to be on time for once!” Danny says waving the notion off.

He continues his trek up the stairs and towards the doors of the school, though when he reaches the threshold of the shield he finds himself having to really push hard against the thing. It was like hitting a wall of foam or Jell-O. He could push through if he pressed hard enough but it was not pleasant or as easy as going through the air.

Once through the initial shield wall, he blinked slowly feeling sluggish and as though all his limbs were moving through water. He even sort of felt like he was having to ‘swim’ as he walked like he was both heavier and lighter than he should be, but unable to find that buoyancy happy middle ground.

“Dude…” Tucker said smartly as he frowned at his friend’s almost slow motion, yet stop motion like movements. It was eerie, to say the least, not to mention the more pressing issue that he noticed right off the hop, “Your eyes are shining, man. And your, um… Neck...”

Sam, ever prepared for whatever bull their lives seem to throw their way, slipped her bag around to her front and offered Danny a pair of sunglasses, which the halfa put on promptly, along with the spider webbed patterned black and silver scarf.  “I mean, it’s better,” Sam argued, not even giving Tucker's look of disapproval her full attention.

“They’re spider glasses.” The boy states with a shake of his head. “Not really digging the whole-” Tucker waved his arm about Danny’s head in little circles, “-pseudo goth thing” he finished finally. Though he had to admit it was at least marginally better than seeing his friend’s glowing eyes and the electric scars showing up on his neck and disappearing under his shirt collar.

“Better?” Danny asked out sluggish, his voice almost sounding like it was being drawn out on a tape deck that was starting to lack battery power and not playing at quite the proper speed making the pitch and timing slower and lower.

Sam and Tucker shared a look before offering a thumbs up to their friend, both deciding it better not to address… whatever that was… The look they shared between one another spoke of their mutual hope that this would perhaps be one of those problems that simply go away on its own.

Ignoring the problems they have usually makes it go away… Yeah, that always works out.  

Danny makes a grab for the door to pull it open again, having that weird slow stop motion effect, like he was flickering between blinks rather than making a smooth motion forward. “Ehm, maybe don’t move around too much man… it’s um… creeping me out.” Tucker offers helpfully.

“Huh?” it took Danny a minute to process, as while he looked slow to them they seemed to be hyped up on caffeine to him… “Why are you talking so fast?” He wondered, his head almost appearing to glitch into a tilted and confused look.

“I think the ghost shield is making you go all slow motion. Just stop talking.” Sam says forcefully before letting out a shudder of her own.

Sam and Tucker share a glance before they each grab onto one of Danny’s arms and half drag him off to his locker. Despite his friends’ efforts he still got many looks shot his way, and a couple of people started whispering to one another as he passed by them.

“How is this going to work if I’m already weirding everyone out?” Danny asked, voice still sounding like a slowed record as he blinked sluggishly and his head jerked almost unsteadily from side to side. From his perspective, everyone was speeding along and talking at 1.5 times the normal speed.

“Maybe I should look for the ghost that triggered this, maybe Tuck, can you look into this mess?” Danny asked after a moment of trying to figure out what was being said around him through the noise of the hall.

“Yeah that might be best…” Sam responded shifting from leg to leg as she locks eyes with a basketball jock who was staring at their group incredulously.

“I got you, man, I’ll change everything to present and, block any ‘call home’ recommendations.” Tucker pipped up already pulling out his PDA to set that up preemptively.

Danny nodded and let out a hum before glitching his way out the nearest exit and out of the shield’s bounds. Once he slipped back out through the barrier, strangely enough, a harder feat than it was getting in, but that wasn’t a problem he wanted to focus on, he already blamed Vlad so he would simply continue to do so until the fruitloop showed himself.

As soon as he was through the green line of the shield Danny practically fell forward in relief. That stifling feeling now gone from his core and bones making his movements fluid and normal, well as normal as a clumsy half ghost could be anyhow…

It was a moot point and not one Danny wanted to think on too long. He gave a quick “thanks” to his friends, before diving between the dumpster and the school’s bricks, transforming into his ghostly alter ego and taking off into the sky. He would do a few laps around the school and city as he looks for whatever ghost set off the shield.

-BREAK-

It wasn’t until lunchtime Danny returned looking much more windswept and all around more miserable. He entered the courtyard through the side joining his friends out on the picnic table they had claimed.  He made it over to them, flopped down on the bench next to tucker with a groan before his head smacked into the table before him.

“You find them?” Tucker asked around whatever horrid monstrosity of a sandwich he was eating, spewing bits of half chewed bred at Danny’s head.

“No” Came the muffled reply, filled with tired disdain.

“No ghost sense?” Sam wandered, flicking the bits of bread from Danny’s raven hair and back towards Tucker.

“No”

“Huh… You think it was you who set off the shield?”  Sam wondered with a thoughtful frown.

“When I went into the back end of the generator though it wasn’t supposed to go off for anything that low, Danny in human form is like a two at best,” Tucker argued spinning his PDA around to show what he’d found when he hacked into the motherboard of the Fenton’s latest device.

Danny groaned. He supposed had he listened to his parents he could have been more prepared for whatever lunacy his parents’ decided to toss his way but alas, his short attention span and teenage rebellion and lack of caring got the best of him yet again.

Joyous of joys.

He tuned out his friend’s back and forthing for a bit, wondering if he could get away with smashing the device as Phantom when Tucker had his a-ha moment of discovery. Danny turned his head and raised a brow at his friend who was furiously typing away at his device.

“You were right about Vlad, Sam”

“Naturally,” She agreed.

“Well, he had an over right line here specifically set for Phantom’s ecto- signature,” the boy states running his finger along the line of code he’d found in the program.

Danny’s mood instantly brightened at that. “So then we just get rid of that bit right? And BAM everything’s fine?” He asked. “Man, what happened to me? Why do I want to get into the school again?”

“To keep up the illusion of normalcy on this mortal plane.” Sam supplied stabbing at her salad a little more forcefully than she probably needed to.

“Eh, yeah, I suppose.” Danny agreed with a lacklustre shrug.

“There, that should do it” Tucker spoke, interrupting whatever tangent Sam was getting ready to spew off about how normalcy was only an illusion created by corporations or some other such thing.

“And just in time The bell just rang,” Danny says with a small grin clasping a firm hand onto his friend’s shoulder. “Nice one Tucker!” he cheered as the trio made their way over to the doors that would lead them back into the cafeteria.

Unfortunately, as soon as Danny’s hand hit the door handle the shield once again sprung to life, though this time, instead of simply having a hard time passing through the shield, he was thrown back across the field earning a cry from several students who were following the trio.  

“Grapes of wrath Mister Fenton!” Lancer, (of course it was Lancer) shouted out in worry, his shout even carrying over the prerecorded message containing his father’s voice. Lancer half jogged half waddled over to Danny who blinked up blearily to his teacher, eyes flashing green for the briefest of seconds before draining back to blue.

“Leave it to Fen-turd to get himself possessed.” Dash snorted from behind the pot bellied teacher earning a few nervous glances between the small crowd of gathering students. The mutterings of the students didn’t take long to start up after that.

“I’m not possessed,” Danny argued, though, it was rather hard to make said argument when the palm of his hand was burned and leaking ectoplasm from where he had touched the door.

“Course he’s not possessed! He’s a ghost himself!” Wes shouted pointing an accusatory finger at the youngest Fenton.

Danny glared. “Not the time Westly.” He muttered under his breath as he was hauled to his feet by his friends. He tried to brush himself off only to end up smearing the ectoplasm from his hand onto his jeans, leaving a luminescent streak across his thigh.

Seeing his chance the ginger jock was all too eager to point it out. “See look! He’s bleeding ectoplasm!”

“No, I’m not! It’s from the shield! it sputtered out at me.” Danny tried to protest, though even in his own ears it sounded like a weak argument.

“Really?” Wes argued and marched over to the shimmering shield. The teen waved his arms about freely in the shield’s range hopping back and forth pointedly across the line of the barrier before showing his hands and clothes were completely clean of any glowing goo. “See! Ghost!” he accused again after he did a little pirouette to show his lack of ectoplasm.

“Yeah? Well, it sputtered at Danny only ‘cuz it turned on with him in the threshold.” Sam tried to argue back glaring at the ginger, venom in her gaze.

“Well then, why don’t you just walk through the shield Fen-toad?” Dash said with a smarmy grin, ever eager to get his own jabs in and seemingly not wanting to be outshined by the ginger conspiracy theorist’s bullying of his favourite punching bag.

“Fine” He spat back bitterly and marched up to the shield with a huff.

Sam and Tucker exchange a glance with one another as Danny presses his hand into the shield again. Thankfully this time there wasn’t anything that blows him back but he also really had to try and push through the shield.  

Danny could see out of the corner of his eye Wes’s smug grin as he grunts and does his best to push through the shield. His persistence is rewarded and he falls to the ground on the other side jumping up and giving a quick ‘HA!’ as he faces the small gathering crowd of students shifting uncomfortably just beyond the shield.

Sam had a look of exasperation and she looked like she was trying to restrain herself from face palming. Tucker on the other hand had no such restraint. He was almost over eager to bury his face into his hands.

From Danny’s perspective, he simply smacked into the ground and stood back up, but from the other students’ perspectives, Danny fell into the shield but instantly slowed down, looking as though he were falling with the moon’s gravity rather than the earthly speed everyone was used to. It also didn’t really look to them like he had hit the ground, instead glitching his body back into an upright position before cheering in that low slow motion state as he had earlier.

And if that wasn’t damning enough his eyes were glowing a lovely shade of ectoplasmic green.

Wes smirked, seemingly very smug and content with himself and this development. “See told you all he was a ghost!”

“T-that’s enough Mister Weston… Right…” LAncer muttered to himself a few moments watching as Danny seemed to glitch about as he cheered before seemingly realizing something was wrong. “I think there was a procedure to depossess a student…I bet the teachers in Bridgestone don’t have to exercise their students in this manner…” He complains. Sure they had gym class and he would appreciate the pun and irony if he wasn’t so tired.

“I don’t get paid enough for this,” he muttered, ignoring the look of panic that spread across Danny’s face.

It took some doing, a lot of flailing limbs and pressing himself against the damn shield, but Danny soon was through back out and free. His eyes still glowed brightly as he stared at his classmates looking very much like a deer in the headlights. Eyeshine and all might he add.

A few of the students were snickering, because only in Amity park could one get possessed by a ghost and have it come across as though someone had merely said something embarrassing or misheard an instruction and was now staring blankly ahead.

“Er….” Danny stared at his classmates half panicked before simply vanishing from view.

“Moby Dick!” Lancer exclaimed, almost dropping the book he was thumbing through from the Fenton parents. Sure it was a ghost, and could potentially be dangerous, but it wasn’t attacking so there wasn’t really anyone panicking.

Instead, the teacher simply felt tired. “Right, I’ll call the Fentons and let them deal with this, Everyone back inside I do believe the lunch bell rang already!” the teacher called out shooing the students into dispersing.

Danny stood there invisibly and holding strong as he internally groaned. At least they thought he was possessed, that could be easily explained away but he was not looking forward to trying to explain it to his parents…

Still maybe if he gets ahead of this…

It was with that thought in mind that he bolted away into the treeline beside the school, transformed and headed off to his home landing in his bedroom only a few minutes later. He went human, back intangible and invisible came out the door, made sure the coast was clear before speeding his way down into the basement.

He just made it down the stairs startling his mother and father who blinked at him curiously, when the phone rang cutting off his mother’s “Honey? What are you doing home so soon?”

“It’s the school calling Mads,” Jack says, sounding disappointed as the large man sent a look of disapproval to his boy.

“Wait!” Danny jumped forward answering the phone and instantly hanging it up.

“Daniel!” His mother exclaimed abashedly.

“I wanna explain first! Do you know how all your stuff goes off on me? Well, the shield at school started doing that and they think I’m possessed! I’m not, it's just the… ya know…” Danny rambled off hurriedly hoping against hope that his parents wouldn’t try to send him to decontamination … again… (Thanks to his ghost half, it burned in places he didn’t ever want to burn)

“You’re possessed Dann-o?!” Jack exclaimed instantly pulling a Fenton gun from somewhere on his person and brandishing it towards his son.

Danny threw his hands up and waved them placatingly at his father. “NO! Just the normal stuff! The contamination from the portal accident set it off. I got too close to the sensor!” He says quickly ignoring how his parents seem to flinch slightly.

His parents shared a look before his father seemed to deflate, seemingly upset at the fact his son wasn’t possessed. “I thought we fixed that... “ Jack says with a frown. “But, we can’t let the school know we may have messed it up! I know we’ll just run the tests again and fix it in the night!”  

“Yeah, that would be- Wait what?” Danny blinks. Why couldn’t they just go down and fix it normally? Of course, his parents had to be weird about this too. “Thanks… Is there anything you need from me to help?”

And with those words said he almost instantly regretted it. “Well… We would really like to know why your ecto signature lines up perfectly with Phantom’s but perhaps that can wait.” Maddie offered with a small amused smile.

Danny sputtered at that, “Wh-What?”

“We set up a monitoring system so we can tell which ghosts most frequent the school… Phantom was the one that triggered the shield twice today. There actually wasn’t anything else that did,” Maddie explained with a deepening frown.

“You sure you’re not possessed, son?” Jack asked again this time sounding almost defeated in how, well, normal a volume he asked that. The hidden meaning was all too obvious especially after he mentioned his accident…

They thought he was dead! The portal killed him! And as the growing pit of dread grew into Danny’s stomach he couldn’t help but feel awful knowing they were correct in that assumption, well at least half right anyhow.

“Yeah… I’m… I’m me…” Danny managed out his voice cracking

“O-oh hun....” Maddie sniffed.

“But it’s not I… I’m me, I promise and I’m not all dead. I still have a heartbeat and everything!” Danny argued or rather tried to as his mother was quick to kneel before him taking his face in her hands as tears bubbled down her chin.

“Mom really I’m like … half at most. More human with a side of ghostly abilities ya know?”

“Oh, it’s okay Dann-o… You're still my son, I know ya are. It’s been almost a year since that accident and you’re mostly still you.” Jack said. “Just worse grades and more hormones and-”

“Thanks, guys really,” Danny sighed in relief both at dodging the potentially awkward birds and ghostly bees talk as well as the tepid acceptance he was getting. Awkward though it may be it was still acceptance nonetheless.  He was happy for it just the same.

“Maybe while we work on fixing up the shield to ignore Phantom’s signature you can tell us about some things?” Maddie asked sniffling again as she looked over her son’s face trying her best to hold herself together and not outright bawl at the thought she had killed her youngest child.

“Y-yeah… I’ve been wanting to tell you about this for a while now but, well, ya know…” Danny offered uselessly.

“I think it’s us who should apologize for that, son but maybe we can just all go get some triple chocolate fudge milkshakes and go deal with that shield after dinner?” Jack offered with a smile, ever the one to break up tension.

“Yeah, yeah… that sounds good.” Danny agreed. Well, it wasn't how he was expecting this to go, but he was kinda glad it ended up like this. Maybe now they could repair their strained relationship.

As Maddie ruffled up Danny’s hair the teen offered her his first genuine smile in almost a year.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Total words: 4245 Complete

[blouisparadise]

Here are so many amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of November. We hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Work Me Breathless | Explicit | 1678 words

Note: this is the sequel to this fic.

Louis visits Harry at work after the doctor got a new promotion. They christen his new office...

Louis leaves a little breathless.

2) Skeletons In My Closet | Not Rated | 2051 words

Basically soft core porn. Harry decided to treat Louis on Halloween.

3) Looks Like We Made It, Look How Far We’ve Come, My Baby | Teen & Up | 2161 words

Louis and Harry are going to officially move in together, they’ve chosen the house and everything is ready, they just need to wait a few months before the owner gives them the keys.

So what’s the problem, you may ask. Well, they’ve been arguing for days and Louis is honestly considering strangling his alpha with one his ridiculously ugly designer scarf. Okay, not really. But he’s going to lose it soon if they don’t stop fighting.

4) Little Devil | Explicit | 2241 words

The pair had just finished taking a round of shots when the one and only Harry Styles saunters over, clapping Niall on the back to say hello. “Louis,” he drawls out, not even trying to hide the fact that he’s raking his eyes over the smaller boy. “You know this is a costume party, right?” Louis rolls his eyes, starting to ramble on about how he is in a costume and what a nit Harry is when he gets it. Harry is saying Louis is a devil.

“And what are you supposed to be Styles? An angel, really?”

“It’s a costume Lou, ’s not supposed to be real,” he says with a smirk, sliding past Louis but stopping long enough to whisper, “I can assure you, I’m no angel baby.”

5) After the Lilo Kiss | Explicit | 2477 words

"I guess I need to show you who you belong to, hmm baby boy?" he growled in my ear while choking me with his other hand.

6) Oh So Thankful | Explicit | 3034 words

Or the one where Louis and Harry both stay at college for Thanksgiving break, and decide to spend the holiday together.

7) Tell Me What You Want (What You Need) | Mature | 3246 words

Louis didn’t plan on getting laid tonight. When he invited Harry over the day before, it was completely innocent. Just two lads hanging out. He still doesn’t plan on it, no matter how hard he’s getting as Harry’s fingernails start scraping over his nipples lightly every time they pass.

8) Calling Out For Someone To Hold Tonight | Not Rated | 3819 words

Harry’s straight. Louis isnt. They still manage to fall in love.

9) Your Love Delights My Soul | Explicit | 4186 words

"Alpha..." Louis moaned against Harry's lips, chasing the friction against his thigh.

"You are my one and only," Harry bit his jaw, "And you know it quite well. Pretty sure I remind you every night, but you have to rile me, have to make me angry. Why, Omega?"

10) Life and Death | Explicit | 4122 words

In which Louis is Life and Harry is Death.

11) When You Turn Off The Lights | Explicit | 4305 words

Gothie Louis/Normie Harry.

12) On My Mind All The Time, Say You're Mine | Explicit | 9261 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“Dude, we’re inside, and it’s night time. Those don’t look as cool as you think they do.” Louis could kick himself, he sounded so stupid, but it certainly got the guy’s attention.

It was at that unfortunate moment that he noticed several other things about this hot asshole, that he hadn’t noticed just staring from afar. First, when Louis spoke to him, his gaze was kind of unfocused behind his sunglasses, and secondly, that he had a red and white cane folded up under his arm.

“I’m… Blind,” the man chuckled, awkwardly.  

Louis wanted to melt into a puddle out of pure embarrassment.

“I— am so sorry. I have to go.”

“Hey, wait, wait,” the man soothed, grabbing at Louis’ shoulders before he could get away.

“I’m sorry,” Louis repeated, looking down at his shoes.

“It’s alright,” He cackled. “I get it a lot. More than you know.”

13) Let's Break The Internet | Explicit | 9505 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here. Please note that the pairing for this fic is Louis/OMC.

The one where Louis is an Only Fans baby.

14) With the Certainty Of Tides | Mature | 13980 words

“Love you,” Louis whispered in the dark. He didn’t know what time it was or where the light had gone, he knew that he was in Harry’s arms, basking in the afterglow of all their love and he’d be a fool to not tell Harry that. As if Harry didn’t know.

“Love you,” was whispered back, as if Louis didn’t know. They confessed to each other as if it was their first time saying it, raw and painful, and listened to it the very same way, but they knew those words to be the only ones true.

With all the certainty of the tides, with all the light from the sun, with all the steady beats of their hearts, they were deftly in love, in secret and so loudly. They were brave and fearless and strong and hopelessly devoted in every sense of their breaths.

“We made it, baby,” Harry mumbled, bringing their lips into a final kiss, sweet and soft and the color of pink. They already knew that, didn’t fight tooth and nail and argued through every petty year and bleed their hearts into the words they sang and on their skin for them to have not made it home.

They were home.

15) A Moment In Time | Explicit | 14004 words

The one where Harry and Louis used to be together, until they weren’t, but with a twist of fate and a bit of magic, could this be their chance to find forever in each other’s arms?

16) I'm Still A Little Bit Yours | Mature | 14921 words

“Harry?” Louis asked to the empty apartment. "What the hell?" He sat up on the bed, his comforter pooling around his waist. The place wasn’t big enough to lose someone. Harry must have left in the middle of the night. And then he felt it. The new twinge of pain in his already bruised heart. He forcefully threw his upper body back and grunted in frustration. Then he looked over to the bedside table and noticed a note under the cup of cold chamomile tea he never got around to drinking.

He reached over and there were only two words scrawled on the otherwise blank page, “I’m sorry.”

He was so damn stupid! He curled up on his side sobbing and trembling. He covered his face with the comforter, tears soaking his pillow, as he begged his body to go back to sleep.

17) I Couldn't Face A Life Without Your Lights | Mature | 15538 words

Louis and Harry are college students who haven't been the same in the past two years.

18) Practice In Pencil, Seal It In Pen | Explicit | 16486 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Harry is in love with Louis but he doesn't know.

19) Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) | Not Rated | 16683 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

The one where Harry wants a little more in the bedroom and has a habit of putting his foot in his mouth.

20) The Animals, The Animals | Not Rated | 16721 words

Admittedly, it’s not the first time Louis Tomlinson finds himself in handcuffs.

The difference this time is these handcuffs are attached to a year long sentence. Not just that, but a year long sentence sharing a cell with a possibly mute 19 year old with dark eyes and even darker secrets.

21) Colder Weather | Mature | 19103 words

When Harry comes around, it’s the coldest time of year. Louis, for once, just wants Harry to take him away from colder weather.

22) Across the Grey, Salty Sea | Explicit | 19968 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 212: Alex from Dunkirk and French escort/prostitute Louis who ends up in Alex’s quarters more nights than not. Alex gives him his dog tag to wear maybe just a lot of smut and dirty talk with Louis being a pretty princess.

23) Blinded By The Sparks | Explicit | 22205 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Harry is a scammer who drifts from casino to casino. Louis is the new waiter who wants in on the scam.

24) Rainbow Bloom | Mature | 22711 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis is in denial. Louis has been in denial for far too long. Then Harry enters his life and everything changes.

25) What A Sight For Sore Eyes | Not Rated | 24216 words

Louis’ playing Danny in their uni’s production of Grease. They’re missing a Sandy, and Harry’s sort of been in love with Louis for a year.

Everything else just kind of happens.

26) MISSING | Mature | 26950 words

Louis brothers report Louis missing after they can’t get hold of him for 24hours

Harry Styles and Charlie Stone, detectives of the teenage homicide and missing persons division, are long time friends of the Tomlinson's and take the case.

27) Even The Best Laid Plans | Explicit | 25175 words

Louis wants to have sex with someone and decides Harry is the perfect alpha for the job.

28) Sunflowers, Sunshine, And You | Explicit | 28778 words

Sunshine county is small but mighty and Harry takes pride in knowing nearly each and every person that lives inside of it. For nearly eleven years now he’s been sheriff, and not one of them he’s ever regretted settling down here.

He knows the road names like the back of his hand, knows the people and the animals and the way the world works here. In all of the time he’s been here, not a thing has changed.

So, all things considered, when he starts seeing a beat up pickup truck roaming through town with plates he’s never seen before, Harry, to be frank, jumps on that like a fly on fresh dog shit.

29) Blue Songs Are Like Tattoos | Explicit | 30739 words

“Good morning, University of California, you’re listening to KALX 90.7 FM Berkeley, this is DJ Harry Styles. If the owner of the tapes I’ve been finding around the studio doesn’t come forward and introduce himself, I’m going to continue tossing them straight in the trash!”

or the DJ Harry and Rockstar Louis fic.

30) Sweet Like Honey | Explicit | 33117 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Harry and Louis need money and they find an unconventional solution in the form of PornHub. It’s not supposed to be a big deal.

31) When Our Worlds They Fall Apart | Explicit | 42228 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Harry put his hand over his heart as if Louis had wounded him. “You’re so harsh, my liege! Perhaps you need to relieve some tension…” He let his voice trail off suggestively.

“The day I ask YOU to relieve tension is the day I lose all my wits and join the Imperials,” Louis said. “It will never happen”

Prompt 325: Star Wars AU with Harry as Han Solo and Louis as Leia.

32) Somewhere In Between | Explicit | 42765 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis wakes up early. He brushes his teeth and can only stomach a piece of toast for breakfast, dressing quickly and heading for the car. He pulls into the parking lot of the Department of Dominance and Submission just as they’re unlocking the doors. It takes him all of an hour in the uncomfortable chairs to fill out the paperwork to the best and most accurate of his ability, handing it over to the receptionist as soon as he’s finished and wiping his sweaty palms on his business trousers.

There’s a high chance that within ten to fifteen business days, Louis will be matched with a dominant.

Shit.

33) Spoonful of Sugar | Explicit | 42900 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here. This fic is also a sequel to this fic.

Louis Tomlinson cares for his family above all else, a fact that’s led him on a twisted path peddling drugs to support them. Just as he’s made the decision to jump ship, Louis gets snared between the two largest crime syndicates in the city. To keep his family safe he’s forced to trust the man that failed to keep his promise two years ago, the resident drug lord he’s unknowingly been working for, Harry Styles.

34) Breakable Heaven | Explicit | 44594 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“What do you think?” Louis gets captured by Harry’s green eyes, unable to look away or even take a breath.

“I think you’re the most magnificent creature I’ve ever met.”

“You must not have met many creatures then.”

Harry’s eyes glance downward to Louis’ lips and his tongue darts out to wet his own. “None like you.”

35) You're The Habit That I Can't Break | Not Rated | 44940 words

When Louis crosses paths with a green eyed stranger in prison, he learns that some habits aren't so bad.

36) Fine Line (The Story of Us) | Not Rated | 46191 words

Walking through Harry's album Fine Line. Each chapter reflects a song off the album.

Harry knew he was a lucky guy, really he did. He knew that in the cosmic pulling of straws he had pulled the long one and basically won the lottery. With a number one debut album, millions of adoring fans, and many a celebrity praising his work Harry should feel happier. He should be skipping instead of walking, singing instead of talking, and grinning from ear to ear. Maybe he was ungrateful. Maybe he was numb to it all. Or maybe he had a big, ocean-sized crush on his best friend.

37) Tastes Like Summer, Smiles Like May | Explicit | 47519 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

A cold prince, an alpha with nothing left to lose and a kingdom with a secret.

38) A Silent Whisper (That's Left Unsaid) | Explicit | 50842 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

A Fake Relationship & Exes to Lovers AU ft a failed proposal ten years ago, an oblivious Harry, an overworked Louis, Zayn as the protective best friend, a meddling aunt and a lot of talks about weddings and rings.

39) Lost And Found | Explicit | 51736 words

Where Louis is just looking for his dog but finds love along the way.

40) Don't You Know That I'm a Moon in Daylight? | Explicit | 58770 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 79: Louis and Harry fell in love in the 18th century, Louis wanted Harry to convert him into a vampire, but he ended up resenting Harry for it. Fast forward to our modern days, they haven’t seen each other since then, but one day they meet again through a mutual friend. Harry was bitter for a long time, but he accepted that being angry wouldn't erase the fact that Louis was the love of his life. He wanted to court and spoil Louis like in their original time period, but Louis avoided him every time Harry tried to reconnect. Happy ending!

41) The Guesthouse | Explicit | 61951 words

Louis has a secret that could break him. With every trip to the Guesthouse, with every fuck he offers himself up for, he gets a piece of the freedom back that he's lost.

Seven nights a year he goes to the exclusive sex club; every day he fights to keep that little bit of information to himself.

And there's another thing - his unwavering and pointless obsession with his bandmate.

There's the Guesthouse, and then there's Harry, and Louis works tirelessly to keep the two apart. Soon, very soon now, he won't be able to.

42) My Friend Lost A Bet | Mature | 74965 words

The one where Louis ends up on the list of potential fake-boyfriends for Harry Styles because Stan really sucks at football bets.

43) In A Sea Of Mist | Explicit | 126725 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

A Greek Mythology/Camp Half-Blood AU where Harry is lost, the road to peace is a wretched one, and somehow, through a mist of confusion and regrets, Louis seems to be the only thing that makes sense and everything Harry needs.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

[breanime]

Bre’s Boys Picture Preference: Your Baby Girl

Disclaimer: All of these adorable babies are internet babies, I do not own or know these babies, though I do wish them the absolute best lives. 

Billy Russo: When you told him you were pregnant, Billy kind of went on auto-pilot. He was there for every ultrasound, indulged your cravings no matter how nonsensical or inconvenient they were, bought all the books and bottles and tiny clothes, but he still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that he was about to be a father. Honestly, whenever he thought about it, all he could feel was this immense sense of guilt that he wouldn’t be able to give the baby the one thing it would really need: love. He could provide a home and education and all the material things, but Billy just couldn’t see himself loving an infant; he was still surprised that he loved you, to be honest. But then he saw her. And he held her in his arms for the first time, and Billy had never felt so weak, so happy, and so in love ever in his life. He felt such a sense of protectiveness and love and security when your baby girl looked up at him with big, black eyes...his eyes. Billy soon finds out that he’s powerless when it comes to his daughter; he just wants to hold her all day, one blink of her big, sweet eyes and he’s mush. “I will never let anyone hurt you,” he promises as he buckles her into the car, “I will make sure you have everything you want, no matter what it is. If you want it, Daddy will get it for you.” He can’t help but caress her soft, fat cheek with his finger, melting as she stares up at him, blowing spit bubbles as he talks. “Daddy is gonna give you the world.” 

Logan Delos: A lot of fathers call their baby girls their princess, but with Logan, he truly thought she was a princess. Your baby was a Daddy’s girl through and through; she could be fussy and whiny with you all day long, but as soon as she saw Logan’s face, she was all smiles. Logan doted on her, kissing her chubby little cheeks and pretending to eat her fat feet while she giggled her little head off. “Are you Dada’s Princess?” He cooed, lifting her in the air so she could kick her hands and feet in excitement. “Are you Dada’s perfect little Princess?” Logan actually designed and commissioned a crown (with a matching gold bracelet with her name engraved on it with a note that said “Daddy’s Princess”), because his daughter is a DAMN PRINCESS. And your little girl loved being royalty. It got to the point that she would whine and cry when you put her in anything less than a princess dress, and God help you if you forgot the crown her Daddy got her. And when Logan was out in public, dressed in one of his suits with his thick hair styled perfectly and his 1000-watt smile aimed at his princess, who was smiling up at him, pulling at his beard and babbling happily in her blush pink dress with her crown glittering in the sunlight, well... No one who saw the two of them could say they weren’t royalty. 

Jax Teller: Jax was a sucker for your baby girl’s toothless smile. He literally would stop what he was doing if she smiled at him, making him late to many a meeting--not that he minded. You would come home to see Jax laying on the floor with her, his smile wide as she laughed and tugged at his offered finger. The croweaters who clean the dorms are shocked when they go to Jax’s room and find it full of diapers and little pink blankies and cute onesies and stuff. The guys stop smoking inside and have gotten into actual fist fights over who gets to hold her next (Juice can’t cut it in the ring, but if the prize is cuddles with your daughter, he WILL knock someone out). Jax gets her a mini kutte that says “Daughter of Anarchy” on the back and sews a “President of Daddy’s Heart” patch on the front. The ringtone on his personal phone is his baby girl’s giggle, and no matter what bullshit he has to deal with via the club or his family or whatever, one smile from his daughter makes it all worth it. Since she was born, Jax smiled more, laughed more, practically floated on air. And he wanted to be a better man--for her. Wanted to make sure he was there for her, taught her right from wrong, how to protect herself, and most of all--he wanted to make sure she always had that smile; the kind of smile that could light up a room. He dedicated himself to your daughter and preserving that angelic smile for the rest of his life. 

Coco Cruz: You had terrible heartburn all throughout your pregnancy, and when your daughter was born, you finally saw why. Your baby was 10% child and 90% hair, just like her father. Coco loved her big hair, and she loved when he picked her fro out or washed it for her. You would hear nothing but laughter coming from the bathroom on wash day, and when you walked in, you saw Coco, inexplicably shirtless now, playing with your daughter’s hair. She wrapped up in a towel, giggling as Coco talked to her. “Papi is gonna put some of this in your hair,” he said, reaching for the coconut oil, “ooh, and some of this,” grabbing the peppermint oil as well. She shrieked happily, making grabby hands at the peppermint oil. “Okay, but you can’t eat it--mami, what did I just say? No no no,” as he picked her up and carried her to your room, kissing her fat cheek, “let’s get you a toy for you to chew on, okay? Aw, my baby... You’re so beautiful, just like your Mama.” He sits on the bed with her, taking her out of the towel and wrapping her up in your nice silk sheets (because she’s fucking worth it), as he continues doing her hair. You watch, heart full, as your little girl reaches up and starts patting Coco’s hair. “Oh, you’re doing Daddy’s hair now,” he asks, smiling as she laughs, “You’re so talented, mami! Thank you!” 

Angel Reyes: Angel and your baby girl were best friends from birth. She loved playing with her Daddy, loved being in his arms, and Angel felt the same way. The two of them were as thick as thieves, always laughing and playing, and she absolutely adored going on walks with him. So Angel would pack her diaper bag and take her to the beach, where she could waddle around with no shoes and play in the sand. Every day, his daughter made him laugh. It was like, once she was born, Angel finally felt like a complete person. This was who he was meant to be--this little girl’s father--and he was so grateful for the opportunity. He walked in front of her, phone out, taping her as she shuffled after him. “Come on, mi amor, come to Daddy,” he cheered. She stopped and put her fists up, making him laugh. “Oh, you wanna fight? Alright, come on then, champ! Put your dukes up! Show me what you got!” She scrunched her little face up in what was meant to be an intimidating face, but she only made herself that much cuter. Angel melted, dropping to his knees to grab and hug her. “You’re so damn cute,” he cooed, kissing her as she laughed, “You make Daddy so happy.” “Put up your dukes, Dada!” She shrieked, punching him in the face. He laughed, taking her fat fist and kissing it. “I love you so much.”

Miguel Galindo: When it came to your daughter, no one could tell Miguel anything. In his eyes, she was perfect. She was only a toddler, but she ran the house. She had Miguel and Nestor eating out of the palm of her hand, could bat her eyes and get you to give her extra sweets, even Cristobal wasn’t immune when it came to his adorable baby sister. Miguel spent many hours in his office with her on his lap, because when she wanted cuddles from Papa, she got cuddles from Papa. In fact, the staff started calling her “Boss Baby Galindo”, and Miguel had to agree--she was already the boss of the house for sure. He doesn’t realize how much she emulates him until he takes the family to their beach house for a little vacation. He, of course, has to hold your baby girl as soon as they get out of the car, and he’s holding her, both of them wearing their matching circular sunglasses (her’s customized into hearts as well), as he directs his security and staff. He sees Cristobal struggling with his over-packed backpack, so Miguel puts his daughter on the hood of the car for a second to help him, and then he hears her babbling. He looks up to see her pointing and “talking” to the staff, just like she’s seen him do. He can even make out certain words in her cute little tirade, such as “right now” and “ahora” (because his baby is bossy in two languages) as well as “let’s go”. He picks her up and kisses her cheek, proud of his Boss Baby Galindo. 

Nick Amaro: Your baby girl is the friendliest baby ever. Strangers are always stopping to wave at her, and she waves and smiles back, and Nick has to stand there and pretend he isn’t ready to cap a bitch for the imagined crime of hypothetically considering kidnapping his adorable daughter. Still, he loved taking his baby out, and he couldn’t lie--he loved all the compliments they got, loved how his little girl was such a sweetheart, always eager to meet new people. They couldn’t get three steps before some sweet old lady was cooing over her, and Nick just beamed with pride. One day, he decided to take her on a ride after he got off of work. He wrapped her up in her favorite fluffy blanket and buckled her into her pink car seat. He kissed her cheeks a few times before standing back, just smiling down at his perfect little angel, and he felt his heart swell. “I love you and your brother and sister more than anything in this entire world,” he whispered as he stared down at her, “I’m gonna be so much better than my Dad was, I promise...” The weight of that promise made his eyes water up, and he turned away, not wanting her to see him like this, but when he glanced down at her, she was giving him the sweetest little smile, and he couldn’t help but laugh softly. He leaned down and she reached up and patted at his cheek, as if to brush the tears away, and Nick took her little hand and kissed it. “I promise...”

Johnny Tuturro: Your daughter was cute, and she knew it. She had big, round eyes and her dad’s thick eyelashes. Every day when she woke up, Johnny would cradle her to his chest and tell her “you’re the most beautiful thing in the whole world. You’re smart, you’re worthy, you’re strong, and Daddy loves you with all of his heart”. He taught her how to crawl, taught her to say “Dada” and “Mama” and “wawa” (water), took her into the ocean and let her kick her fat little feet until she was practically delirious from laughter. You taught her how to make puppy dog eyes. And so, after doing her hair, putting bows in it, and getting her dressed, Johnny put her on the carpet. “Stay right here while Daddy gets your shoes, okay? Don’t move.” She nodded, giving him her most innocent smile. Johnny kissed her before going to get the shoes, and you watched, amused, as your daughter crawled away and started climbing the ottoman. Johnny groaned when he walked in and saw her, standing over her with his hands on his hips. “What did Daddy say? Hm? I said don’t move,” he frowned, but you could see the amusement in his eyes. Your daughter looked up at him, gave him that heart melting smile, and titled her head. “Wuv you,” she cooed, and Johnny fell to his knees, grabbing her and showering her in kisses. “I love you more!” You laughed, shaking your head at your sweet little con artist. 

Rio: Rio didn’t call your baby girl his Princess. She was THE QUEEN. Rio sat her on his lap while he made calls, letting her listen to the serious tone of his voice and learn how to talk to people (she was a baby, so...she didn’t talk at all yet, but still), and he never let her forget that she was special, because she was his daughter. As she went into toddler-hood, your daughter loved being around her Daddy. She would hold his hand and walk around the neighborhood with him, pointing at things and naming them, which he proudly encouraged. She was the first thing he thought about when he woke up in the mornings, and he was the last thing she saw when she went to sleep at nights--even if it was only on a video call. Rio adored her, and she loved him right back. Rio would sit her on his lap and put her hair in a bun, telling her how cute she was, and she would say “Dada cute too!”, making him laugh. She had started copying him more and more, and Rio thought it was the funniest thing. One day, as you and your daughter waited in the car for Rio to finish some business, he came out and saw her playing in the back seat. He opened the door and peered down at her, smirking at the look on her face--it was classic him. “We all good?” She asked, her lips pursued. He laughed, crawling into the car to smother her in kisses. “Yeah, mama, we all good.”

*******************************************************************************************

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[gucciwins]

Ocean Save

Harry is not a good surfer but that doesn’t keep him out of the water. It’s his persistence that leads him to meeting Y/N, the paramedic who saved him as well as showed him how to properly surf.

Word count: 10,174 (it’s the first time i hit 10k so this story feels even more special to me.) Warnings: mention of cancer and death of a family member, smut, female pleasure 

A/N: I wrote this because I got the inspiration for the last time I was down at a private beach and saw many wipeouts. Inspiration strikes anywhere.

This is basically a closing to the summer for me. Uni is starting back up, and I’m excited to be back. My writing has never been constant but I do have other stories in the works if any of you were wondering. As always thank you for taking the time to read my story. I love you. 

Walking down towards the ocean, Harry felt the heat of the sand on his feet. He picks up his pace wanting to find a place to set his items down then jump right in. It's only going to get hotter as the day goes on, and he prefers to be in the water when that happens.

Harry came alone, not that he minds, he finds it relaxing. It also gives him time to meditate. He sets down his towel and surfboard when he spots a bright blue canopy a few feet away. If he's honest, it looks like it was hard work to put up. A girl is lying inside; she's got a book in her hand. Harry doesn't have the best vision meaning he can't recognize the book. The girl has her hair up in a messy bun with an oversized sweater to beat the cold breeze. She's got two bags lying next to her, a bright yellow one with a lilac hydro flask peeking out. Next is a smaller bag but it's thicker as if filled with more items, it has a thick white strap, and he's intrigued wondering what she could have inside, but not enough to bother her for all he knows it could be filled with more books.

Harry turns away from staring at her, grabs the borrowed board from Mitch, and heads out to the cold water. Harry doesn't let it faze him knowing his body will adjust to it soon enough. His short yellow shorts are his only choice of clothing, not providing much warmth.

He paddles out enough where he knows the rocks won't get him. He does not need a trip to the ER room. 

Harry is successful in catching two small waves. He stands up a bit shaky but overall balanced. He doesn't remember everything Mitch taught him, but the basics should be enough. Harry isn't sure how long he's been out, but what he does know is that he's wiped out more than he would have liked.

Harry sees a wave approaching, and he debates a second too long because the next thing he sees, the wave is falling over him. He holds his breath and holds on tight to his board. As soon as he pushes up the surface, he lets out a gasp lying on the board, letting his lungs fill with air. Harry knows this means he has to call it a day. He doesn't even want to begin to think about how much saltwater he drank today.

He runs a hand through his curls to shake out as much sand as he can he turns his head to the left to look at the girl. She's still reading a small frown on her face. Harry lets out a short laugh, glad she didn't see him wipe out as hard as he did.

Other surfers out there, but he gets too nervous about approaching strangers and gets even more tongue-tied approaching a beautiful girl.

He dries himself off quickly, picks up the board, and heads to the parking lot reading to go home to a warm shower and a nice lunch. 

Mitch and Sarah invited Harry out to the beach, and he was quick to accept because it's been a few days since they all had a day off from work. Mitch had given Harry new tips on how to improve after Harry told him what had happened. He also might have mentioned Sarah, the pretty girl he saw that he was too shy to approach.

Harry sets up around the same spot as last time and frowns when he doesn't see the canopy like the previous time, but it's not like he would be lucky enough to run into her again. Harry sits on his spread-out towel to put sunblock on his body. Mitch and Sarah are quietly talking as they set up their umbrella. Harry begins to scan the beach, surprised to see it empty for a warm day. There's a girl under a rainbow umbrella sunglasses pushing her hair back and what looks like a kindle in her hand. It's her, the girl from last time, well it seems to be. It might not be after all. Harry's not even sure why he's looking for her, not like he conversed with her.

Mitch ushers Harry into the ocean, reminding him to pop up fast and go out further out, seeing as the waves seem a bit bigger. Harry doesn't mind that he's going it alone, knowing that Mitch keeps an eye on him.

Harry fails to notice how strong the waves are. He sees on coming and begins paddling hard; once he's standing, he notices how fast the tide is, and in the next second, he's popping his head out of the water. Harry just nosedived, and he knows it was because of how fast the wave was coming.

Harry catches two waves. Then it settles for a moment. He uses this to catch his breath and look back at Mitch, who he sends a thumbs up to. Just as he turns around, a wave catches him by surprise. He laughs it off and gets into position.

Harry was not expecting to see two big waves coming at him; they are coming in strong with no way to avoid them. Harry turtle rolls but is still pushed around towards the bottom. Harry kicks hard to go to the surface, and when he does, he notices the board is split in two. Harry doesn't realize how close the waves brought him to the rocks. Another wave hits him, and he goes under, coming up to hold onto the rocks. One final wave seems to approach, and it's worse than the previous ones. Harry feels the stinging on his back, and as he pushes up. He coughs up saltwater, letting the gentle waves push him to land. Mitch and Sarah are standing on the shore, helping him stand, they are quick to sit him on their towel and begin to access his injuries.

Harry doesn't need to look at his back to know it's scraped back, just the air is making it sting. His right elbow is bleeding. The yellow shorts now have a long tear and lots of red.

He's not bleeding out, but it's also not good.

Harry hears voices speaking, but his ears are ringing that he can't understand what they are saying.

He's hissing the next second feeling water being poured on his cuts.

"Sorry," he hears an angelic voice tell him.

"Neck hurts?" She asks

"No, it's fine." He croaks out.

"I'm a paramedic. Just in case you don't think I know what I'm doing." The soft voice offers.

He shakes his head. "That's not it."

Harry meets her eyes as she washes out the cut on his thigh that doesn't look as bad anymore. It's her the girl from the last time he was here. She's beautiful up close, and Harry knows he never wants to look away.

"Just surprised I was able to get your attention away from your book." Harry laughs but is cut short when she puts water on his elbow.

"It was the yellow shorts." Harry laughs loud at her comment on his clothing choice.

"Knew they'd come in handy one day."

"If you really want to improve your surfing you'll have to start wearing a wetsuit. A pain to get on sometimes. Also easier to have a friend out with you." She shrugs.

"Mitch was watching out for me." He defends.

"Easier to watch from in the water." She teases, and he relaxes again.

Mitch and Sarah are standing on the side, smiling at him, and he smiles back. Harry knows how worried they must have been, he knows he was. The adrenaline was pumping but not anymore, allowing him to feel a bit more of the pain.

The water stings on his cuts, but she puts some cream on that will do something for his healing that he wasn't really paying attention to, too lost in looking at her hands and how gentle she was. She puts a gauze on the wounds then covers it with Kinesio tape. He feels funny, but he knows she's done when she pulls her hands away.

"You can head to the ER if you really need it, but you're not showing signs of shock or concussion, you should heal nicely over the next few weeks. Take some ibuprofen for the pain; otherwise, you're all set."

"Thank you so much." Sarah addresses her. "We wouldn't have known what to do without you."

"It's no problem, I was happy to be of help."

"Any way we can thank you," Mitch pauses, wanting her name.

"Y/N" She smiles, looking at all three of them. "You can thank me by keeping him out of the water for the next three weeks."

"That we can do," Mitch assures her.

Y/N turns the thick bag on her shoulder.

"Y/N" Harry calls out, Mitch helping him stand up.

She turns around, and Harry feels like she's glowing under the sun. He loses his confidence when she smiles at him.

"Thank you."

"Of course, Harry. Take care of yourself."

Harry lets her walk away and frowns. He's injured, and he may never surf again after this horrible day, but it could have been worse.

Maybe it is time to find a new hobby.

"Hi, Harry!" A cheery voice greets him.

Harry has just arrived at the shops searching for new swim shorts, not expecting to run into anyone. He purposely came during the middle of the week to avoid any and all run-ins. Harry doesn't hide his shock when he sees it's Y/N.

Y/N, the paramedic that helped him after his accident.

"You all healed up, it's been what three weeks?" Y/N smiles at him, standing near him and looking him up and down as if she could see through his clothing.

Harry nods. "Yes, three weeks. My friends took good care of me."

"Heading out soon?" She gestures to the ocean.

"Yes, next week, I'm heading out, and injuries are healed. Few new scars." Harry doesn't know why he said that he wasn't even planning on going surfing again.

"That's great." Y/N is all smiles. "How's the board?"

"Did not survive." He sighs. "It was Mitch's; he said it was no big deal."

"Do you not have your own board?"

"Mitch gifted me one, said some stuff about thickness, length, and width that I didn't understand. He wanted me to be safe when I go back in, so he says it's perfect. It really is nice, not that I know much about boards." Harry feels like he's oversharing.

"Did he teach you how to wax it?" Y/N asks eyebrows furrowed in deep thought, waiting for his reply.

"You wax a surfboard?" Harry is surprised at what he is learning.

She chuckles. "Yeah, so it's not slippery. Helps you stick to your board."

"Makes lots of sense." Harry thinks that may be why he always slips so much.

"I also think you're surfing in the wrong area."

"What do you mean?" He asks. He likes this beach, and the area is not very overcrowded with people.

"Well, advanced surfers know how to deal with rocks and double-ups, which you obviously don't." Y/N is being honest, and he really likes that.

"What gave it away?" He answers sarcastically.

"If you'd like I can show you where I learned, it's usually empty. My brother took me there for the longest time. It's where I like to go when I'm surfing."

Harry is shocked at her offer, of course, he wants to accept. "That'd be great."

"Would you mind exchanging numbers, we'd have to check wave conditions to see what day works best."

"Sure." He nods, handing Y/N his phone.

"Great, it's a date" Y/N shoots him a bright smile.

She begins walking away, she looks over her shoulder to look at him. "You coming, Harry?"

"Where?"

"We gotta get you a wetsuit, silly." She shrugs like it's nothing. "I'm sad the yellow shorts didn't make it."

Harry hurries and matches her pace. "I am as well."

Y/N opens the door to a shop and holds it open for him to walk in first. Harry smiles and gives his thanks to her.

"How do I know you're a good surfer?" Harry questions. "I know you're an avid reader and a crazy good paramedic but never seen you in the water."

"Awe, you're right. Guess you might have to just trust me."

"I can do that." Harry has not stopped smiling being in her company.

Y/N grins, "I was hoping for that."

"Y/N, babe, you didn't tell me you were coming." A short redhead says, moving away from the register, wrapping her in a big hug.

"I need a new rash guard. Can't seem to find my old one and can't always rely on the wetsuit." Y/N begins to tell the redhead.

"Oh we've got new in stock, I'll bring some out in your size."

The redhead is about to leave when Y/N stops her. "I also need to look at men wetsuits for Harry here."

Her eyes look him over, and he feels a bit nervous and hides a bit behind Y/N.

"Harry, this is my best friend, Georgia, but she goes by Georgie. Georgie, this is Harry, he's a new friend." Harry misses the wink Y/N sends her friend, who gets the message right away.

"Nice to meet you, a friend of Y/N's is a friend of mine."

"Pleasure to meet you." He answers, bringing his hand out to shake when Georgie's eyes go wide, accepting it. She's quick to let go.

"Babe, he has an accent."

"That he does, obviously not from these waters." Y/N laughs.

"Harry, just know you're in good hands," Georgie tells him.

Harry nods, still timid and a bit intimidated by her high energy.

"Okay, how tall are you?" She smirks, looking him up and down.

"6'0" He replies confidently.

"Are you?" Georgie looks at him. "Think you might be off an inch."

"I trust him, try an ST and an M."

Georgie nods and leaves them be.

"Didn't know you checked me out that well," Harry smirks, knowing he has the upper hand.

Y/N blushes and Harry can't wait to see more of it in their future. "Sorry, I speak before I think. I hope I didn't embarrass you."

"It's quite alright. Nice to know you like my meaty thighs."

Y'N elbows him in his stomach gently. "Quit being rude."

Harry and Y/N begin to look around together when Georgie comes back and leads them to the fitting rooms. "I'll leave you to it."

Harry watches Y/N step in before shutting his own door. He stares at the suit and tries the small one first. It fits him a bit short, and he knows Y/N said it's better longer. The medium is snug, where he knows it should be and a good length on his legs and arms. He likes that it has a string to help him zip it up. Harry won't admit how much he struggled.

Harry walks out to Y/N and sees her waiting sitting on a chair. She's fiddling with two clothing pieces in her lap. He calls her name softly, and she turns.

Her eyes widen; she holds her gaze on his thighs for a bit before moving to his chest, arms before settling on his face.

"Feels fine?" Y/N stands, stepping closer, walking in a circle around him. "Looks good to me."

"Yes, feels great. Easier to move than I thought." He spreads his hands out and walks to the mirror in front of him.

"We could get you a rash guard if you like instead of a wetsuit. That way you could still wear your shorts. I don't want to make you uncomfortable surfing." Y/N has a nervous smile on her face awaiting an answer.

"This is great, honestly. I'll ask for your help, later on, rash guards." Harry promises.

"I'll hold you to that." They stay staring at one another for a few seconds until Georgie calls for Y/N.

"Meet you at the register to pay. You can leave the suit outside Georgie will get you a new one."

Harry is quick to change and meet Y/N to see her holding two shopping bags in hand and one receipt.

Harry's mouth drops. "Tell me you didn't pay for me." His voice was sharp.

It doesn't seem to faze her. "Yes, family discount. It's really great." A small smirk on her face, he knows she's waiting to be challenged. If you have a problem, you could pay me back."

Harry grins, knowing he won this easily. Georgie laughed, watching the two of them. "Let's take it outside, there's actual customers now."

"Bye babe, see you for lunch on Thursday." Y/N calls out to Georgie, who blows a kiss in return.

"Alright, how much do I owe you?" Harry says, wallet in hand.

"Lunch, I'm starved." A smirk on her face.

"No."

"Yes, it's been a long day." Y/N says, continuing to walk.

"Wetsuits are expensive. Please don't do this."

She stops walking and turns around to look him in the eyes. "When's the last time someone bought you a gift."

"My birthday, a few months ago."

"I give my friends random gifts throughout the year. It's who I am, this is mine to you. I'm taking you surfing, and I want you to have the right gear. I know you have money, but I want to do this." Y/N is being sincere, and he can see that.

"Thank you," Harry answers, giving her a big smile to let her know he's letting it go.

"I'll pick the place we eat at." Harry begins walking again.

"Not arguing that."

"Great, I was thinking-" He's cut off by a phone ringing, and he knows it's not his.

She shoots him an apologetic smile. She answers small yes's, and I'll be there soon.

"Rain check on the lunch, someone didn't show to shift, and I'm on call."

Harry masks his disappointment. "I understand, go."

"I'll text you tonight, plan our date out a bit more. I promise."

Y/N leans in kisses his cheek before rushing down the way they were going.

Harry's got a date.

A date with Y/N and he couldn't be more excited.

It's five am, and they had just arrived at the beach. Y/N had let him know it would be early, but he thought eight o'clock, not sunrise early. He doesn't complain because he's actually really excited to be here with her. She picked him up, helped him get his board in her trunk, then gave him a smoothie. Said coffee would dehydrate him before he could even get in the water.

The beach she brought him to was gorgeous; it's a small parking for less than fifteen cars meaning not many people must visit. There is lots of room to spread across at and no rocks in sight. That helps him relax a lot more. The ocean looks clearer here, he hopes Y/N will continue to bring him hereafter learning to surf better.

"Do you want me to grab your board?" Y/N's voice breaks him out of his thoughts. Harry makes his way to the back and grabs his.

"You want me to take yours, or I can take your first aid kit instead." Harry offered. Y/N was holding her backpack by the bag handle, and the kit was slung on her shoulder, but the white strap was slipping.

"That'd be great, you pull the board out, and I'll close the trunk."

Harry was quick to pull it out; he stands it, making sure it doesn't fall. She slams the trunk and gives it a gentle tap.

"Lead the way." Harry gestures to her.

Harry follows a bit behind as to not accidentally bump her with a surfboard. He lays them down when he sees her pick a spot with a bit of shade from palm trees. There are also a few trees in the area adding to the shade, it feels like he's entered a new world.

"I feel like we're in someplace we aren't supposed to be."

Y/N laughs and nods. "Means this place has not lost its magic."

"If you say you come here a lot, why have I seen you recently at," he pauses. "let's call it my beach."

"It's a bit of a drive, I come here when I really want to surf and meet up with my brother. He doesn't live in the state anymore, so when he calls that he's coming to visit me, this is the place he means."

Y/N begins to rub sunscreen on her legs. She's wearing black board shorts that show off her firm thighs. Her top is a white long sleeve rash guard. It's beautiful and glossy, Harry realizes that it must be the one she bought the other day when they were out together. As Harry is finishing checking her out, he sees her putting on sunscreen on her face and a smirk on her face as she holds the bottle out to him.

Harry awkwardly laughs. "Thanks." He is quick to put it on the exposed parts of his skin. Mostly his face, Harry, can either tan or go really red, and a sunburn is not something he wants.

Y/N spreads out their boards a few feet away from their stuff and from each other. She moves to stand in front of him, looking him up and down. He knows the suit fits well, and glad that she's taking a moment to take it in. He's going to look like a fool taking it off, so best to work it while he got it.

She spends him a small smile and looks at the waves for a few seconds. They aren't as big as he expected. He's eager to get in, but he knows it won't be that easy with her.

"The good thing is you know how to jump on a wipeout." She has a stern look on her face, and Harry knows she means business now.

Harry nods. "Mitch taught me a few things. He said jump far from the board, feet first and protect your head, but I don't really let myself get taught things if I'm honest."

"Well, I'm honored." She brings a hand up to her chest for emphasis.

"Remember to beware of the impact zone. When the lip of a wave hits flat water. It's the most powerful and can drag you fiercely to the bottom."

"Wow, lots I did not know. No wonder I get beat up a lot." Harry runs a hand through his tangled curls.  

"Also, a big reason you got in your accident." Harry knows she's right.

"If caught in a rip current-"

Oh, I know this," Harry interrupts. "You swim sideways and not away to shore. Also, it's important not to panic. Parallel to shore." Harry fake paddles to show her he knows what he's talking about.

"Exactly right." This earns him a smile. "I know you know the push-through technique and turtle role." She says off-hand.

Harry smirks. "How do you know that?"

She blushes but doesn't shy away. "I tell you the yellow shorts attracted attention."

It causes both of them to laugh and Harry to go red, but he thanks those lucky shorts every day.

"Show me your pop up."

Y.N takes a step back, crosses her arms, and waits for him to demonstrate.

"Why?"

"Well, I know you know how to catch a wave and paddle out, but the reason you can never ride a wave is by how you pop up."

This new information takes Harry by surprise.

"You noticed that two times you saw me."

Y/N nods. "I took surfing courses at sixteen and mainly taught kids. Once I turned eighteen, I began to deliver lessons to adults. I did this for six years before being hired as a full-time paramedic. I volunteer my time now when I can. It's easy to spot mistakes now." She feels like she over shares, but Harry looks genuinely interested in all she has to say.  

"That's amazing, you must really love the water and surfing." Harry is smiling, she's very open, and he honestly didn't expect it of her.

"I love it, my mom loved bringing me out here as well. We would spend all morning here, then we'd head to a late lunch. She'd go to her shift at the hospital, then I'd stay home with my head stuck in a book."

"Smart and athletic," Harry says. "My kind of girl."

"You're stalling." Y/N responds blushing.

"I like hearing you talk, your face glows when talking about surfing or your family."

"I was in the water at six months old and surfing at five. I've got salt water running through my veins." She jokes.

"You're kidding," Harry says.

"Nope, my mom grew up in this city, loved the ocean, and well, she wanted me to as well. Lucky for her, it stuck."

"Y/N, if you surfed all those years, you sound good enough to have gone professional." Harry feels the mood shift as soon as he lets those words out, and he wishes he could take them back. Before he can begin to apologize, Y/N surprises him.

"I-I would have." Y/N sits on her board, facing the ocean. Her hands in the sand, letting it fall through her fingers. "I had just graduated high school, so I had all these doors open, and I was undecided. I had universities waiting for my reply and sponsors waiting for an answer. The day when I thought I had made a choice, my mom fainted at work. It had never happened before. She said she had a cold, but that was it." Y/N took a deep breath. "Turns out she had stage four lung cancer, and it was quickly spreading. It was too late for chemo, all they could do was keep her comfortable."

"Y/N" Harry whispers, reaching for her hand. She squeezes it back in acknowledgment.

"My brother was in New York school covered, but he could not make frequent back and forth. I stayed by her side for those last five months. It was always just her and me. We were best friends, and to lose her was the hardest thing I ever had to go through." With her free hand, she wipes her tears.

"I'm sorry for your loss, she sounded amazing." Harry can't even imagine what she went through, but he can show her he cares and will be there.

"Thank you. Mom was my hero. Still is. She had enough money saved up for me to go to university debt-free, but in a letter in her will, it said I could do whatever I pleased. I wanted to feel close to her, so I got started as an EMT then worked my hours into becoming a paramedic. Had a good guiding team, and I couldn't be happier doing what I do every day." Y/N looks over at Harry and is surprised to see the tears in his eyes. It makes hers start up again.

"That's amazing to hear. You're strong and resilient."

Y/N blushes. "It's the support system around you that helps you stay afloat. My mom's work friends had basically become my aunts and uncles. I had bad days and good days. It was nice to be reminded I wasn't alone."

"Family's important."

"Gosh, I'm sorry. Talk about sucky first date topics. Also can't seem to stop talking about myself." Y/N looks apologetic and embarrassed.

"Don't apologize. I feel honored you shared this with me." Harry brings their intertwined hand to his lips and leaves a gentle kiss. He hears the hitch in her breath and smiles at her reaction to his touch. "Well, how about after we get some waves in, and after I take you out for lunch and tell you my life story."

"Harry, I would really love that." Y/N leans over and kisses his cheek. "Now show me your pop up.

"Alright, alright." Y/N goes back to her original position to watch him

Harry takes a deep breath and lays on his stomach. He arches his back lightly, chin pointing forward. Tucks his arms in by his ribs. He arches up, brings his right knee forward, keeping it straight down, pushing up to his fingertips, bringing more power to his arms. He takes his left foot and places it in front, foot flat. He then moves his right foot up, planting his foot. He stands up, weight mostly in his left foot. Harry's shoulders pull back, pointing to the nose of the board and knees bent he knows he's done it.

"Do it fast now." She has no expression on her face, but Harry likes that she doesn't correct him. She's giving him the chance to show what he knows and how she can improve it.

Harry doesn't argue simply doing as she says. He lies on his stomach, takes a deep breath, jumps up, and loses his balance a bit before relaxing his form, knowing he messed up.

"Do you know where you go wrong?" Y/N asks.

"Honestly, no."

"Where's all your weight?"

"In my feet." Harry answers.

"Right, well, which one has more."

"My front foot."

"No, that causes you to lose balance. Your right foot has to hold sixty to seventy of your weight; that's why you tip forward. Also, could separate your feet a bit more, too close together." Y/N is standing the same position he was, but he can see what she means. There is more weight on her right leg.

"Right."

"Want to try it again."

"Yeah, okay."

Harry gets into position. He's quick to jump up, placing his left foot in front and propping his right up and putting the extra weight on it, head forward he feels different, more in control."

"Brilliant, Harry."

"Thank you. Felt good."

Y/N laughs. "Let's hope you remember that in the water. Do it a few more times to get used to it."

"You got it, boss."

"Oh, I forgot something before we head in." Y/N rushes to her back and pulls out this yellow item with a black strap.

"That for me?" Harry points at it, looking confused.

"Yes, it's a leash for your board. It keeps you close to it after a wipeout. I'm wearing one if it makes you feel any better."

Harry laughs, dimples on display now. "It actually does. Why, yellow?" He questions as he sees her attaching it to the board.

"We are forever honoring those yellow shorts that brought us together."

Harry has enjoyed watching Y/N surf wave after wave. It's clear as day that she feels at ease out here. He's glad she has allowed him to see that. There's a big wave coming, and Harry isn't going to bother with it, he's too nervous about getting thrashed around under the wave. Y/N rides the wave with ease. Harry lets out a cheer when he sees her successfully complete an aerial. She launched off the lid, flew above the wave, and landed on the waves' face. It's crazy to think how easy she made that look.

She paddles back over to him and shoots him a smile.

"That was incredible," Harry tells her, and she looks down, not used to his compliments.

"Thank you." She laughed. "When are you finally getting on a ride? I want to see my student and the skills I taught him."

Harry shrugs.

"Hey," she leans over and touches his arm gently. He looks at her with a small smile on his face. "It's just you and me here. I'm not going to make fun of you, I'll be the first to cheer for you and the first to dive in after you if you take too long to come up for air."

Harry nods. "Thank you."

Harry sees a wave coming and decides to go for it when he does get up, he loses balance. He laughed off the first one, and the second and the third, but the fourth one was getting to be too much. The more he wipes out, the more he loses confidence.

He doesn't let Y/N get a word in, and yes, he feels terrible about it, but he really does want to impress her, proving that he has improved.

He sits back on the board, takes a deep breath, and waits.

A wave is coming, and he feels good about it. He paddles hard, feeling the water before pushing up. Harry's feet firm, his head faced forward, and shoulders back. He bends his knees, shifts his weight, and the next thing he knows, he's riding it through.

He hears cheers once he pops up after jumping off.

"Harry!" He hears Y/N scream as he shakes water from his head. "That was amazing."

He paddles out to her. A big grin on his face. "Let's catch some more."

She nods, turning her head to look at the water for incoming waves.

Harry stops to catch his breath and just stares at Y/N. Strands of hair sticking to her side of the face drops of water dripping down her neck. She is beautiful. She rivals Amphitrite.

"I've got an amazing coach," Harry tells her after he jumps off his successful wave. He did a bottom turn. That had her hollering as soon as he paddled back to her.

Y/N splashes him. "Shut up, I'm catching the one coming."

She paddles hard before giving two hard strokes then gets up as if the air itself helped her. Her technique is impressive. Harry swears she's up in a matter of seconds. She's caught a clean, smooth ride. Harry knows he could watch her all day.

"You got noodle arms yet?" Y/N asks, sitting on the board as she pulls up next to him.

"A bit," Harry answers her honestly.

"Ready to call it, or you got a bit more in you?"

Harry knows she's leaving it up to him, and he honestly doesn't want the date to end.

"Want to stay a bit longer."

"I'm fine with that." She rubs water from her eyes as Harry looks her over to make sure she isn't injured just as a precaution.

"Betty!" A man yells that's paddling in.

Harry frowns, seeing no one else and can't help but wonder who they're calling.

Y/N frowns before seeing the approaching man. "Well, if it isn't Jake. Can't say I've missed seeing you."

"Awe, Betty, dear, you're just as sweet as I remember." Harry frowns, not liking the interaction.

"Harry, this is an old acquaintance from my high school days. Jake, who actually goes by Ryan, this is Harry, my boyfriend." Harry doesn't react to her words, simply giving Ryan or Jake or whatever his name is a head nod.

"Nice to meet you," Harry says, not at all, meaning that.

"Snagged yourself a royal. Seems fitting."

Y/N's tense, and he doesn't like that. "Hope you enjoy the surf, we were about to head out."

"Don't leave on my account," Jake replies. "Ocean big enough for all of us."

"We've been here since sunrise time to eat." Y/N begins to paddle back, and Harry follows. "Take care of yourself."

Harry and Y/N don't say a word until they are right by their bags. Y/N drops the board in the sand, and he follows.

"I've got a rinse kit in the trunk, no worries about getting sand in the truck's trunk." Y/N takes a long drink of water, releasing a deep sigh after.

"Take it you've got bad blood there." Harry starts.

"Could say that. He's still hurt. I never gave him a chance in high school. He thought he was the king of surf, and I should be his queen, but he was too much of an asshole to ever get a girlfriend."

"Every story needs its villain." Harry shrugs.

"Yeah, he was definitely that. Causing trouble where he went. When I got my first boyfriend, who surprisingly to everyone was the captain of the debate team, it did not sit well for him. He tried to fight him, but Antonio did boxing as a hobby. Threw a mean punch."

Harry laughs at her story. "Where is Antonio now? First love and all he must have been special."

"He was, We broke up after prom. I didn't know my plans, and he had already planned five years ahead. He headed off to Harvard, and I stayed home. Last I heard he was opening up a Law firm with his girlfriend." She tucks her water back in the bag. Closing it and slipping it on her back.

Harry thinks it's nice getting to know her, how open she is to Harry.

"You've got lots to share, Harry. A date is us both getting to know each other."

"Sorry, love. I just find you fascinating."

Y/N nods, flustered, but doesn't back down. "Flattery will get you nowhere at this moment."

"Tell me one last thing."

She pops her hip waiting for him to ask.

"Why, Betty?"

"It's an 80's surf term to compliment a good female surfer, Men like Jake used it to try to pick up girls because it can also be used as an attractive or beautiful girl." Y/N takes the scrunchie holding her hair and gently pulls it out, letting her hair fall over her shoulders. "My friends said I coined the term, everyone seemed to call me Betty. It was sweet, nice to hear, but not from the mouth of people like him." She nods her direction to Ryan in the water.

"I'm guessing Jake has a meaning," Harry says, fishing for more.

"Yeah, it means a beginner surfer that causes and brings trouble to other surfers."

Harry grins, looking out at the water and watches Jake wipe out. "Very fitting."

"We all thought so." Y/N grabs her bags and board, walking away from him. "Race you to the truck." As she takes off running, Harry tries his best to pick his stuff up and laughs at how far she's gotten as he nears the parking lot. "Come on, got to earn that second date, H."

Harry knows he's done for.

Harry is driving, pointing to different restaurants while Y/N says no to most of them. She let him drive her precious truck because it was her fault for Harry embarrassing himself, taking off his wetsuit, and almost flashing his most private parts to her, not having informed him that he could wear something underneath. Y/N had thought it was apparent, thankfully Harry brought a change of clothes. He was embarrassed, but he got over it quickly, knowing it made her laugh so much.

"Let's go there." Y/N points to a small cafe named Lytle Creek.

Harry pulls in and jumps out to open the door for her. She smiles at Harry before heading inside. They are seated at a booth where they sit across from each other. It's a small place with booths and fewer tables. There are beautiful black and white photos on the wall of families and the ocean. It makes the cafe feel warm and cozy. Harry knows he'll want to come back.

"Hello, I'm Charlene, and I'll be your waitress, can I start you off with something to drink?" A girl around the age of sixteen takes their order; her ocean blue eyes shine just as bright as her smile, Y/N thinks.

Harry looks over at Y/N, and she nods for him to go first. "Hello," he greets. "I'll have an iced americano."

"I'll have cranberry juice, please."

"Do you need another moment with the menu?" Charlene asks, seeing the other couple in the cafe stand up to leave, shooting them a quick goodbye.

"A few more minutes would be great." Y/N answers, and their waitress walks away with a smile.

Harry and Y/N pick their food choice, and Charlene quickly came back with drinks. The conversation is slow, mostly sipping their drinks and looking out the window at the small shops that are slowly opening and turning their lights. Harry and Y/N's eyes meet a few times, causing them both to laugh.

Harry is grateful when the food arrives because any longer and his stomach would have started growling. He was not ready for that type of embarrassment.

Harry quietly chuckles when he sees her eyes light up when she sees Charlene heading their way with their tray of food. Even though their morning has been going well, he's nervous because he likes her a crazy amount for a first date.

"You know why you fall off so much?" Y/N says after swallowing a bite of her french toast. Harry ordered pancakes with a side of scrambled eggs and hashbrowns that he insists on sharing with her.

"Besides not knowing how to balance properly." Harry sasses.

Y/N laughs. "It's your bad posture. I mean, look at you right now." She points her fork at him.

Harry immediately sits up, proving how right she was.

"Hey, you just proved my point." She grins at him, and he can't help but do the same. Her happiness is contagious.

"Yeah, okay. It was worse, but my friend got me into yoga, and it improved drastically. Think that's what makes me look a bit shorter than I actually am."

She nods, hanging on to his every word as if it were anything interesting.

"Oh, you should teach me sometime. I'm a great learner in small groups and can never take those classes always filled with ten or more people." She takes a sip of her juice. "I like the focus on me and being told I'm doing good or what I can improve on."

Harry smirks. "You got a praise kink?"

Her mouth drops open in shock. She throws a grape hitting him right in the center of his forehead.

"Oi, that wasn't kind."

"First date topics do not involve bringing up my kinks."

He reaches over for a strawberry, and she just watches him, a small frown on her face, but it looks like she might crack and laugh. "You didn't deny it."

She opens her mouth to rebuttal, but she's too flustered. Y/N drops her head in her hands and just lets out a low groan.

"You're too much."

"Or maybe I'm just enough."

"Yeah, we'll see." Y/N reaches over for his fork with a bit of pancake and eats it, shocking him.

"Tell me about your family, please."

She flipped a switch from playful to serious, and honestly, it was hot. She does want to get to know him, and that sends flutters to his stomach.

"We moved here after my mum got a divorce from my dad. We came to live with a family friend, and my mom fell in love with the area, so we stayed. My sister, Gemma, moved to London at eighteen. Now, she's happily engaged and is a teacher. My mum moved back three years ago." He loves talking about his family. But he misses them.

"You miss them a lot?"

Harry nods. "Yes, I visit every summer. At first, I spent only a few weeks because I didn't have a stable job but now stay all summer if I can or visit later on and stay through a bit of autumn. Also, never miss Christmas at home, and I'll stay through new years. It's nice to have a flexible job."

"That's great to have. Always cherish it." She's smiling at him, but he can feel her hurt. Harry knows that must be hard for her, but if it's up to him, he wants her with him this year; he might be thinking too far ahead on a first date, but he's serious about her.

She's unique, and it just feels different with her. Cheesy, but the truth.

"I spend Thanksgiving with Georgie, and some years I'll spend Christmas with her as well; otherwise, I travel. Christmas through New Year is always spent in a new place, then I'm back the fifth and right to work."

Harry smiles at her, hoping that maybe this year will be different, and she'll spend Christmas with him. He knows it's months away, and they've known each other for less than a week, but it feels right. Being with her feels like he has finally taken his first real breath of air.

"Since we like being fair, tell me about your first love." She leans her head on her hands, focusing all her attention, eager for him to start.

Harry chuckles at her excitement. "Sixteen year old me was in a band, I wrote her a song and played it in front of a small crowd. She kissed me backstage. We dated, and she broke my heart for a football player, soccer player." He says with a shrug.

"You gave me the spark notes version." She mutters, picking up a grape and eating it. "What's with her now."

"On her third marriage." He confesses.

Her eyes go wide. "You're kidding."

He shakes his head. "Nope."

She grins. "Karma for breaking your heart."

Harry laughs, and she soon joins in with him.

Conversation flows, and they don't feel time go by. Y/N drives Harry home and walks him to the door. Harry looks down at her lips, and she looks up to his, but they both look away. A small frown on both their faces. He walks inside, whispering a short goodbye. He shuts his door for a second before ripping it open to see her opening her truck door. He stops her, spins her around. She nods when his eyes meet hers for permission. Harry's hands are on her cheeks; he's slow, not rushing to kiss her because he wants to remember this moment. Their lips connect, and they move together in a steady rhythm—no rush to end. Harry feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest. She's a passionate kisser putting all her emotions into the kiss.

Harry pulls away but pecks her lips, not wanting to be separated just yet. She giggles against his lips, not at all wanting him to stop either.

Harry drops his hands to her waist, taking a step back and shoots her a shy smile. "I take it there will be a second date."

She nods slowly, blinking her eyes open. "And a third, fourth, fifth, and a twentieth date."

He kisses her, not being able to contain his excitement. "I'll take all the dates you give me."

"What if on one of these dates I want to make you my boyfriend?" She touches his cheek, gently pulling away to look into his eyes.

"You could ask me right now, and I'd say yes."

She laughs, taking two steps away from him. "Think I want you to do a bit more chasing first."

He grins, and she reciprocates when seeing his beautiful dimples.

"I'll never stop chasing." He assures her.

Harry grabs her wrist to stop her from getting in her seat. "One more kiss goodbye?"

She nods, not at all being able to resist him.

This kiss is slower than the first, Harry wanting to prolong their time together. Harry's sure if he keeps on kissing her, he'd never let her go. She pulls away and gets in before Harry can stop her. He steps back so she can shut the door. She rolls down the window and kisses his cheek.

"Send me a message when you get home."

"Of course, bye Harry." She's pulling out of the driveway slowly, eyes on her mirrors.

"Bye, pretty Betty."

She lets out her gorgeous laugh, shaking her head at him. She shoots him one final look before driving away.

Harry grins to himself, hand resting over his fast-beating heart.

Harry has no idea what the future holds for him and his relationship with Y/N, but if he's lucky enough to get more moments with her like this, he'd consider himself the luckiest man alive.

It might be too soon to say, but he's sure she'll be his wife.

Harry may have been a terrible surfer, but it did bring him Y/N.

"You suck!" Harry yells, flopping down next to her shaking out his wet hair, on her lap but to no avail.

"You're out with Mitch." She responds, resting her sunglasses on her head. She reaches out and pushes his hair back out of his eyes, she eyes the scrunchie on her wrist, and without thinking twice, she gently gathers his hair and puts it in a small ponytail. She kisses his forehead leaning back in her sand chair.

"Thank you, baby." He mutters, kissing her thigh three times before meeting her gaze once more. "You promised you'd go with me." He whines.

As much fun as he had been having with Mitch for the last hour, he couldn't help but look out to the shore for when she would stand up with her board to join him. He remembered how much fun they had in her shed waxing the boards for today, she even gave him a special reward for doing so well. Now she's giving him the cold shoulder although it could be worse she could be ignoring his attention completely.

"Harry," She sighs.

"Baby, please." Harry's voice grows softer, sensing he might be close to getting what he wants.

"No." Her tone makes him realize she is serious.

"Why not?" He's really concerned why she won't surf with him today when she was eager to do so just a few days prior. She loves any chance she can get in the water.  

"Because I said so." She picks back up her book Defending Jacob, and Harry sees her yellow bookmark peeking out from the end of the book. He knows she's not actually reading because she didn't set it aside as she usually does. So he continues.

"But why?" Harry knows he sounds like a child, but if he continues, she's more than likely to answer him, it's something he learned over time.  

"You invited Mitch to hang out on our six month anniversary, so you hang out with him." She all but shouts at him, no expression on her face, meaning he has a lot to make up for.

Harry groans ashamed of forgetting. "I'm sorry."

"No surfing together."

"I can make it up to you," he says, pulling at the strings of her bottoms sneaking a hand up under her sweater to touch her breast in the pretty bikini she's hiding from his viewing.

"Get Mitch to leave, and then we can do what you want." Harry knows nothing will change her mind.

"Fine, be like that. Tell me to kick my best friend and his girlfriend to the curb."

"Remember, you can't hold out like I can." She shrugs, telling him there's no problem holding out on anything intimate with him. She's right, and he hates it, ever since their first time, Harry has not stopped from touching her intimately. The only time they stopped was when they had their first big fight, and she would not let him feel her under any circumstance. He didn't get a hug or kiss on the cheek for a whole five days, safe to say after that Harry was always sure to have a hold on her for comfort. And now, he wanted to show her he appreciated her, so he knew what he had to do.

Harry heads over to Mitch, who is talking to Sarah. The beach is empty, and it's not a surprise seeing as the beach Y/N showed them has become their spot, and not many people gather there, especially now that autumn has made its arrival.

"Get out of here," Harry says, nudging Mitch on his shoulder to get his attention. He adds a please when Sarah gives him a look.

"It's our six month anniversary, and I messed up. Got to make it up to her." Harry confesses feeling worse when saying that out loud. "Now leave and don't come back, please."

"We are leaving." Mitch pats his shoulder before walking towards their stuff. "Was wondering how long it'd take." Sarah laughs, giving Harry a side hug before making her way to Y/N to provide her with a proper goodbye.

"Mitch, I've got a lot of groveling to do." Harry runs a hand down his face, stressed but up for the challenge.

"Good luck." Mitch picks up his and Sarah's board, and Harry grins, watching them leave slowly to aggravate Harry, but he knows he deserved it. As he watches their car drive away, he cheers for the small victory.

"Baby, my sweet Betty." Harry lays out his pet names for her.

"Really, Harry." She sets her book in her bag and her sunglasses, knowing Harry is going to invade her space now.

"What? You are my hot surfer chick." He's teasing her.

"Idiot." She mutters.

"Your idiot." The cheesy smile on his face makes her lose her serious face, a smile taking over.

"Always." Harry is laying between her legs now that she moved to the beach blanket she began carrying around once she found out that Harry likes to nap after surfing. She made sure it was water and sand resistant just for him. She's very thoughtful, always looking out for him.

"Can you let me make it up to you?" He says, tracing circles on her thighs slowly dipping between her thighs.

She waits a few seconds to answer, but to Harry, it felt like hours. "Yes."

"Where should I start?" Harry reaches his hand up to pull the zipper down from her sweater. He is quick to push it off her shoulders. He smiles at the pretty yellow bikini she wore just for him, that he was a fool for almost missing out on it.

Harry kisses down her neck, she lets out small moans encouraging him to keep going. His mouth stops on her breasts, reaching behind to untie it. Once they are free, his dips in to take her nipple, sucking on each of those beautiful breasts. Y/N grabs the loose hairs and connects their lips. She slams her mouth on his, Harry kisses back, thrusting his tongue deep, tangling it with hers. Her hands begin to travel down, but he stops her.

"It's all about you." Harry breaths out, getting a good look at her as she leans up on elbows, slowly nodding. Harry shifts down to lay between her legs.

Roaming his fingers up her thighs, brushing a kiss along the inside, coming closer to her hot center, kissing it. She moans, desperate for more. Harry loved how insanely good she always smelled. He licked and kissed her through her bikini bottoms, inhaling the scent that was uniquely her, getting a faint taste of her. Eager for more Harry pulls the strings of her bikini bottom, and it comes undone quickly, he grins seeing her beautiful pussy, Harry swears it's perfect just as she is. "Baby, you have the prettiest pussy." With a groan, his eyes drift close and swipe his tongue over her smooth, smooth flesh.

Her body twitches, and she gasps, head falling back and her back arching pushing her perfects boobs up. He swirled his tongue up and down, sinking it deeper to taste her more fully.

"So damn wet. Look at you." He slid his fingers through her slit. "That's for me. "Right, baby?"

"Yes," She lets out another moan. "For you…"

He tastes her again. "Could eat you like this forever."

"Please," She begs.

Her hips roll against his mouth, faster, and he tongued her clit. She reached for his hand, wanting to feel close to him, Harry intertwines his fingers through hers, holding on tight as she gives a soft cry. He moved his tongue faster, knowing she was close. Her body quivering and tightening as she comes, her pussy even slicker.

Harry kisses her thigh again as she begins to calm down, his eyes on her face, drawing back away from her. "Baby, you look fucking gorgeous."

Y/N feels like she doesn't, sweat making hair stick to her forehead, she's naked and bets there has to be sand around them from all the moving they were doing, but one look at those emerald eyes and she knows he means it.

She sits up, and Harry is quick to zip up the oversized sweater, he tied her bikini bottoms so she wouldn't feel exposed anymore.

"Can I get a kiss?" She asks his laying back down, leaving the zipper exposing a bit of her chest to him.

"Always. Give you all my kisses."

The kiss is slow and gentle compared to what was shared moments before. Harry groans not at all, forgetting that she now tastes herself against his lips. It's nothing new, but it gets him just as excited as the first time. Y/N pulls away pecking his lips three times before gently pushing him to lay on his back, he lets her know she wants to get comfortable on his chest, she takes advantage of it whenever she can, claiming she loves hearing his heartbeat.

Harry is softly stroking her hair, helping her calm down from her high. "Christmas in London, how does that sound? Lots of family and cooking and a mince pie."

A tear rolls down her face because she can picture it perfectly. She might be surrounded by lots of strangers, but if his family is anything like Harry, she's in for a great time. "Sounds perfect."

Harry doesn't comment on her tears, knowing this is important for her.

"You really want me at the family Christmas?" She twists, resting her chin on his chest. Her eyes looking into his eyes, looking for any type of hesitation.

"Baby, you are family. I need you there" He brings his right hand up to tuck hair behind her ear. "You're the best gift I could have there."  

Y/N can't help but laugh and connect their lips for a short kiss. "Can't wait to properly meet your mom and sister. Facetime is not the same."

Harry nods, agreeing because he feels the same, he can't hug his family through a phone screen. They stay staring at each other in their current position, taking in each other's features that they've memorized. The scar Harry has on his chin. The freckle she has on the left side of her neck. How bright her eyes shine when she smiles. How quick Harry's cheeks go red from the sunlight.

It's these moments that they begin to fall in love with one another all over again.

"What do you say we travel somewhere for new years together, keeping your tradition going," Harry suggests hoping she'd be up for it.

She doesn't bat an eye, her smile grows. "Where would we go?"

"I'd go anywhere as long as I'm with you." Harry kisses her nose softly, causing her to scrunch it up.

"You're too bold, where did my shy, sucky surfer go?" She pokes his dimples, causing him to laugh. He wraps his arms around her waist, hugging her tight against him.

"You polished him up." Harry might not be the shy guy anymore, but when he's around his love, he feels like he is until she breaks him out with her loving stares and gentle caresses.

"I love you, "He whispers.

"I love you so much." She connected their lips, a low groan rumbled from his chest, and his mouth opened against here in a long, clinging kiss. Harry let out another moan as he felt her fingers trail over his sensitive cock. He tilted his head, opened his mouth wider, and deepened their kiss until she pulled away.  

"Make love to me." She whispers in his ear as she kisses down his neck.

Harry flips her, a gasp leaving her not at all expecting Harry to do that. His eyes shine bright with love and lust, ready to make her feel pleasure like no other.

"Always, love."

With the sun beating high and ocean waves crashing against the shore, moans of pleasure are lost in the noise of it all.

Thank you for taking the time to read. If you liked it please be sure to like and reblog it would mean a lot to me. Come talk to me about Ocean Save here let me know your favorite moments.

[artxyra]

The Secret Life of MDC | Part 2

Part 2 – DuPont believe anything they say

Part 1

Marinette was ready for anything they could throw at her because now she can bring them all down at once. Today was the start of her first time as a spy student for the School board and splitting her time between two classes. The first half of the day would be spent with Mlle. Bustier and the second half as a TA for a new teacher that recently just began over the summer.

“Are you ready, Buggy?” She heard Adrien ask her from behind.

“Buggy? That’s a new one, Kitten, and yeah I'm ready. Just one more school year with Lila and her mindless followers.” Marinette answers, absently playing with the ends of her blouse. Adrien feeling a shift in the air, grips her hand and gives the one person he sees as a sister the biggest reassuring smile he could muster.

“C’mon losers, I only have so many fucks to give out and I don’t want to blow it in the first half of class.” They heard Chloe call out behind them wearing sunglasses indoors that clashed with her golden outfit. Marinette had to prevent herself from scoffing at the fashion choice the blonde teen had made. It was a crime against fashion and the girl is the daughter of a fashion icon.

“Chloe, you know I love you, but what in the world prompted you to wear sunglasses indoors?” Marinette somehow managed not to raise her voice at a person she claims as a sister.

“Oh hush, Manette. I’m doing this to prevent future murders on my hands.” Chloe responded as Adrien and Marinette look at each other communicating with slight head shakes and hand gestures that went from them to Chloe and back to them.

“That makes no sense, Bee, and I’m afraid to know what you meant. Should I message Tim to get a lawyer on hand or just pretend that I didn’t hear anything and go on into the nightmare that we call class.” It was Marinette that took the charge like she always does in these situations where she and Adrien are at a loss when it comes to Chloe’s hidden mindset.

All Chloe gives them is a mischief smirk causing the two friends to fear what is to come.

~*~

“Good morning, class. Today I have exciting news!” The teacher, Mlle. Bustier, announces as she setting her things down and turning to the chalkboard.

The trio never would have thought they would be stuck with Caline Bustier since the beginning of their collége years to the end of their lycée years. The only reason why this is a fact is that many of the teachers in the surrounding Paris area moved out once Hawkmoth’s akuma attacks began to become more vicious. They didn’t want to teach in an area that could lead to death or effect their trauma even more. This caused the school board committee for all of Paris to let the teachers teach their current class up until graduation with only the senior teachers teaching two sets of classes which meant teaching a younger generation outside of their grade group. So far, the change has been going well with minimum out rejection.

For Mlle. Bustier’s class, it was the best transition ever; however, it only solidifies their downfall and future in the real world. Caline, a generous carrying teacher, has little to none of a backbone. Her teaching methods are questionable especially when it comes to her classes' growth, which is why the school board's deal to Marinette was to become a student spy rather than letting her go free once she passed the Baccalauréat.

Caline turns around to view her students. She’s happy to see every single one of them, but her inner smile fades away once she caught sight of Marinette. The girl had so much potential in the teacher’s eyes and it was a shame to see it go to waste. She tried to get Marinette to be an example for her peers, but the girl did nothing but cause a rift in the classroom.

“I have some amazing news. Starting today up until our class exchange program, each and every one of you will be working on a presentation choosing an infamous city in the United States. You can work in pairs no bigger than three for this assignment.” Caline began before going into detail regarding the largest project of their senior year.

The trio already knew what city they were going to pick; however, for Marinette, she was slightly wary. This assignment has little to with her problems, but she had forgotten about the exchange program that the class was selected last year to go on for this year.

Every year a certain senior class is chosen to go on an exchange to one of the partner schools in the United States. When Marinette graduated, she had forgotten that her class was chosen, so now she needs to find out how that will change her teaching assistant job plans and how she and the principal will overcome this.

“Ooh, we should Gotham! I personally know the Waynes. They are a nice family. You know?” Of course, it had to be Lila to ruin a good mood. The trio could feel the liar’s gaze lingering on them as they mentally plain on what to do. “You know Adrien, you could join my group and we’ll get an ‘A’.” Lila begins to sweet-talk her way through Adrien, ignoring the heavily implied discomfort the model was giving her.

“Huh, Lie-la, I’m actually planning on working with Chloe and Mari for this one. I’m sure Alya and Nino would love to be a part of your group.” Adrien speaks up as he repeatedly tapes the desk for help from his two surrogate sisters.

Lila huffs putting on the waterworks, like always does when she didn’t get her way.

“Adrien? C’mon sunshine, can’t you just work with Lila. She was really looking forward to doing the project with you. Nino and I decided to be a duo, anyway. I’m sure Chloe and Marinette can handle it on their own.” Alya may not be physically violent towards anyone, but she did know how to pressure someone into doing something.

Adrien shakes his head and decides that it was best to stay close to Chloe and Marinette in case something goes sideways.

Feeling the attention away from her, Lila knew she had to come up with something spectacular. However, it would be unfortunate for Marinette who decided to take a drink from her water bottle. “I know I shouldn't say anything, but I’m dating Damian Wayne.” Immediately the loyalist of flies surrounds the liar gushing about the latest news.

Marinette, on the other hand, chokes on her water creating a coughing fit. She stares aghast at the liar once the coughing died down. Chloe and Adrien couldn't help but laugh at this.

“Calm down, calm down, class. I still have much to discuss with you including the trip.” Mlle. Bustier states trying to reel on her students as the talking increases in volume.

Fading out of the class the trio opens their group chat. Marinette looks up every so often to make sure that their teacher was paying them no attention.

Queen Bee: Our class is filled with idiots. [insert screaming GIF]

Katana’s Bitch: Uh, Bee what happened?

My Voice is Music: Aren’t you like in class?

Gotham’s Princess: Yes, but that is not the point. Besides, I already did all this shit and just in class for "fun".

R U Kitten Me:  Luka, my love, I’m gonna need loads of therapy?

My Voice is Music: Liar?

Katana’s Bitch: Liar?

Queen Bee: She tried to guilt Kitten into being her partner for this large assignment. Ooh, how I can’t wait until he comes out of the closet.

Gotham’s Princess:  It will be something like this: [insert a WTF GIF]

R U Kitten Me: Ooh that’s a good one Mars.

Gotham’s Princess: [insert bowing GIF] Thank you.

Queen Bee: 10 o clock, Bustier’s looking right at us

Marinette looks away from her phone to be greeted by Mlle. Bustier stern facials. She sheepishly smiles at the teacher and begins to write in her notebook, but the content had nothing to do with what Mlle. Bustier was teaching.

A grueling class period later, Marinette rushes over to the other side of the building. She sets up the classroom for the teacher and waits for the students to arrive.

While Marinette becomes the TA for a different class, Chloe and Adrien are forced to deal with the idiocy of their classmates alone.

Chloe nearly got into a yelling match with Lila and Alya about Marinette’s whereabouts as everything soon became aware that the fashion designer was missing for the second half of the school day.

Lila, once again, tried to dig her nails into the model to be her partner for the presentation project, she even tried to pull the daddy card over the blonde not knowing that Gabriel has little power over him since he unofficially moved in with the Dupain-Cheng home and rarely makes an appearance at the Agreste home unless it was dire.

“I can’t believe how selfish you are?” Alya attempts to scream into Adrien’s face but is pulled away by Nino, once the DJ realizes what was going on. He even mouths his apologies to his friend as he pulls Alya to comfort Lila, who was making a big hissy fit.

“I just wanted him to have a good grade on this project. My Damiboo would have been a large help when we choice Gotham.” Lila sniffles in her limp hand as if she was the victim of a major crime. Chloe and Adrien just roll their eyes and continue to ignore their classmates as the second half begins.

~*~

Marinette laughs at the messages on her phone about the class before walking into Principal De La Fontaine's offices. Due to the constant attacks and akuma victim from Dupont, the Paris school board officials declared Principal Damocles unfit to be a principal and opted for De La Fontaine to oversee college and lycée of the Dupont schools seeing as they are short-staffed.

“Mlle. Dupain-Cheng, you needed to see me?”

“Good evening, Principal De La Fontaine, and yes I do. It’s about the exchange program. The class that I’m spying for was selected to go last year and I was wondering how that will affect my teaching assistant job?” She asks taking an empty seat opposite from the Principal.

“Why yes, we probably should discuss this before you go. This might be the last piece for the school board in regards to Caline’s teaching habits. I have already discussed it with Mme. Margaux about your month's departure.”

A sigh of relief escapes Marinette’s lips. The feeling of knowing nothing will happen to her job on the school grounds with her being gone for a month.

“Merci.” She says once their conversations end and as she walks out of the office.

Nette @GothamsFashionSense Guess who’s returning to Gotham for a month?? This fille right here!! [insert a Dottie screaming & kicking her feet GIF]

Immediately, the tweet receives dozens of replies, all ranging from screeches of who is she to can’t wait to play “Spot the Nette game” on twitter. Marinette couldn’t help up chuckle as the replies from her extended family proceeds to enter the replies.

Maybe the trip wouldn’t be so bad?

Yeah, that was a lie. Before the trip started, Lila made a tearful excuse about the presentation project then saying that Marinette and her group stole the presentation from her as their city was the same, Gotham, New Jersy. That ended up becoming a large battle about right and wrong, to which Chloe and Adrien won because they did most of the project.

The moment before the trio stepped into the airport, saying their goodbyes to Kagami, Luka, and closet family members was just as emotional. Adrien tried his hardest not to breakdown in Luka’s arms but the reminder of seeing Jon made him excited. Chloe was a weeping mess saying goodbye to her girlfriend, who promise to send messages every day to keep the bee miraculous holder sane. For Marinette, she knew that Paris was in good hands and always having Kaalki on hand has been a huge help when traveling between the two cities.

Upon entering the airplane, there wasn’t a single moment that Lila didn’t lie about her experience in Gotham. She somehow managed to get every Wayne boys' name wrong except for Damian’s and Bruce’s. Like whom the hell is Tom Grayson and Drake Todd. It took every bone in the trio’s body not to breakdown laughing and cursing at the liar for such ludicrous names. Though parts of her conversation went into the ultimate group chat where everyone from Gotham to Paris is on. Let’s just say Jason was craving for a bullet to hit the liar in an “accidental” way.

Part 3 >>

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[con-fection]

ASHES TO ASHES | jim moriarty x reader | 6/13

word count: 3.4k 

It's strangely easy to get used to James Moriarty. Adapting to his needs is a necessity, and yet, you find that you barely have to change at all.

You slip into his routine fairly quickly. Despite your initial panic, and the feeling that the whole place was a prison, you're able to push that behind you. It's easy to become the person he demands of you, solely because that person is yourself.

There's no way for you to discern what this whole plan is leading up to, but for now, you've managed to gather a few pieces of the puzzle. They don't quite form a whole, unbroken image yet, but you can understand what they're going to comprise.

There is something that Moriarty has that he's very, very proud of. He's going to unveil it to the world, and you've been assured that every single major criminal is going to scramble to get their hands on it. This thing, whatever it may be, has a great deal of power, apparently.

Initially, you'd been inclined to believe that it was some sort of weapon of mass destruction. Moriarty had told you that it had the potential to be one, and you believed him. He was a great many things, and not many of them good, but you didn't think he was a liar. Not to you, anyway.

However, the more he talked about it, the more you began to suspect that this prized weapon over the masses was actually a farce. It was absolutely the kind of thing he would delight in, tricking everybody into competing for his attention. He never explicitly said it, but you did have an inkling that his 'weapon' was more of a party trick that would lead to destruction but not actually cause any on its own.

The second aspect that you were sure of was that something was going to happen to some kids. The thought of it alone churned your stomach, and his words about innocence remained emblazoned on the back of your eyelids, haunting you whenever you close your eyes. Thankfully, you had persuaded Moriarty not to kill them, but rather just to hurt them. Which would probably be very traumatising, and it did make you wince just thinking about it, but at least the kids would be sent to therapy rather than the morgue.

And somehow, despite all of this - the kidnapping, the being forced into his plans - there was a part of you that remained thankful to him.

Moriarty was a monster, there was no denying that. He liked to hurt others for his entertainment, and he ran a criminal enterprise, consulting with the worst offenders on the planet.

But, he had saved you. By now, Sherlock Holmes would have found you in your hotel room and you would be awaiting trial.

This wasn't freedom, but it was more than you'd ever had.

"Cinderella," You hear Moriarty's lilting irish voice call out, down the hallway from your bedroom. It's still early, you think, and unless you'd overslept, then he was coming to fetch you rather early.

You'd already been awake, though you were lounging around rather than actually doing anything, already dressed in some of the fine clothes from the wardrobe, just waiting for breakfast or a summons from the consulting criminal, which were usually delivered by one of his henchmen.

The door swings open - it doesn't even make a click, and you're left to speculate whether it had even been locked at all.

Moriarty saunters in, grinning. It's a habit of his, to dress impeccably - for today, he's donned a navy blue suit, probably Westwood, which you've discovered he's rather fond of. "Today, we're having an exercise in trust."

You look at him confusedly, not quite understanding. "Like... team bonding?"

"Oh, precisely. Since we're a team, and all."

"We're only a team because -"

Moriarty cuts you off jovially. "Because I kidnapped you and you joined me against your will. Yada yada yada. Yes, let's move passed that. 'S hardly relevant. C'mon, Cinderella. We have places to be."

"We're leaving the house?" You immediately perk up, jumping up and stalking towards him, simultaneously excited and predatory. You're willing to pounce on and devour any opportunity for freedom.

"Yes, yes we are. To get to know each other better."

---

Standing before your house, reduced to rubble, was not your idea of 'team bonding'. Even then, calling yourselves a team was probably an exaggeration. He had all of the power, and you just had to tag along for the ride.

You hadn't really ever anticipated seeing it again in person.

The entire place was blackened and crumbling. It's an overly nice day, the kind where the sky is blue and it's warm, but there's a gentle cool breeze that keeps you grounded. The entire street looks lovely, thriving in the warm weather, but this house, your home, was now a blight on the street, a dark contrast to how happy the rest of the world seemed. Verona's car had been removed, probably even destroyed by now, and there had been some minor clean up done in the garden, with lots of the loose, fallen tiles from the roof having been gathered up.

There's obnoxiously yellow crime scene tape everywhere, cordoning off the house and some of the surrounding areas.

It was just the shell of what it had once been.

It was different, seeing it in person. On the TV, it hadn't even seemed real - it was just another thing for you to celebrate. The last time you were here, it was burning. This ashen, blackened, warped skeleton of your childhood home is a potent reminder of how far you've come, of what you've sacrificed for a freedom you're struggling to obtain.

Moriarty nudges you. There's some of his men on the street, standing tall and stoic - ever silent and ever watching, their presence is likely to prevent you from attempting an escape. He's since put on some sunglasses and keeps pivoting his head slightly to look between you and the charred remains of your childhood home.

"Well...?" He asks, questioningly.

"I really, really don't see how this is meant to build trust." You say, rather numbly. It had felt a lot better when the place was still ablaze. Now that the Archer family were dead and their presence removed from the house, it almost feels like a shame that it had to burn at all.

Almost. But not quite.

It's still a monument to your power, to your ability to maim and destroy. You don't feel half as distant when you remember their suffering, the way that the girls had bled out like pigs when you slit their throats and nearly hacked their heads off.

"Mmh, maybe not yet. I just wanted to see what you had done." Moriarty admits with a shrug. "Look at all you've accomplished, and think how much we could do together."

"I don't want to burn the whole world." You tell him, for the first time looking away from the ashes of the house and up at him. "I want to rule it."

Moriarty grins wildly. "That's the spirit, Cinderella. I can give you the world, you know. All the freedom you want. You just have to stand at my side."

"Isn't that what I'm doing right now?"

"Well yes, it is."

The birds are still singing, chirping happily to one another and diving in the air, flapping their wings. It's rather comforting to know that it hasn't changed - that the parts you like have remained intact, even as you'd rained hellfire down upon this place. There wasn't such birdsong in London, and you had missed it.

"Why me?" You have to ask - you've asked so many times and you can never be satisfied with the answer.

"Sherlock was interested in you. At first, you were in my way. And now?" He raises an eyebrow at you. "Now you're the way forward, Cinderella."

It feels like you've come to some sort of pivotal moment. Here, under the sun and staring at the house you had burnt down, Moriarty doesn't feel so much like a captor. Rather, you're beginning to feel that comradery, that stirring of companionship. The two of you weren't exactly alike, no. But you didn't have to be.

"I'm not sorry I did it." You say, staring at the rubble that you had reduced your childhood home to.

"No, I know." He shrugs. "It'd be awfully boring if you were. Remorse is a bit ordinary, don't you think?"

You don't bother answering his questions. Rather, you close your eyes, and let yourself listen to the soft chirps, hoots and calls from the songbirds darting through the trees. When you're not looking at how damaged the house is, it's easy for you to imagine the hazy days of your youth - watching the birds with your mother, running around the garden whilst your father chased you.

"I'd missed the music, though." You admit. "London doesn't have such pretty songbirds. I always enjoyed waking up to them."

Silently, Jim absorbs the information. He's content to look between you, basking gloriously in the sun, bathed in light, and the destruction you had inflicted on those who sought to subdue you. Both were beautiful sights.

You didn't want to be a mirror image of James Moriarty, and you never would. That wasn't what he wanted, either.

Despite the armed guards behind you, you do, for the first time, feel free.

This isn't a scrap of impure, tainted freedom like back at the hotel. This is the real thing - this is feeling weightless, untethered.

There had been a great many variations of Cinderella written. You had admired them all. Perhaps in this version, Cinderella wasn't the only twisted one. Maybe she burns the house down, but she finds kinship in the prince anyway. Perhaps Prince Charming throws his ball to find victims, rather than wives.

That would be a happily ever after that you could enjoy. There could be no need for lies when you were capable of understanding each other completely. Depravity was a universal craving, and one you knew well, whether it was driven by desperation or not.

---

Today is a very important day, or so you have been told.

This is the day when these fragments of plots come to fruition. Moriarty's men mill about the mansion faster than usual, talking to each other in hushed, rapid voices when they would normally be silent. It very much sets you on edge.

When you enter Moriarty's study that morning, he's sat at his desk and he's not dressed the way he normally is. There's no striking blue Westwood suit or something similar. He's dressed casually - he's even wearing a hat.

You can't quite mask your confusion.

"Launch day, Cinderella." He clicks his tongue at you chidingly, like he's disappointed, or as if you even had the opportunity to forget.

"Yeah, I know." You bite out, annoyed that he would presume it could slip your mind. "Just... what are you wearing?"

You much prefer his pretentious luxury suits to this - a boring, beige blazer and a black cap. It just doesn't look like him. It doesn't look like Moriarty. It looks like a random civilian man that would probably ask you for directions around London. It peturbs you that he doesn't look quite like himself.

Then, you're subsequently even more distressed by your own distress.

You've rather established that you've come to view Moriarty as more of a partner or mentor figure than as a captor. Here is the most free you've ever felt, and you owe your freedom to him. Naively, you hadn't planned post-murder, and by now, you would have been caught.

Moriarty has become almost familiar, and you don't like seeing that familiarity vanish.

"I'm a tourist!" He proclaims, gesturing to his outfit. "Aw, don't you like it?"

"Well, no." You say, rather flatly. "It doesn't look like you."

Moriarty creeps up from behind his desk, stalking over to tower over you and look down at you, his dark eyes staring at you intensely. "It's not forever, Cinderella. Just for one night."

"And you're presenting the thing to the world like this?" You ask dubiously, once more running your eyes over him and trying not to wince. It just doesn't sit right seeing him dressed as something he's not - seeing him downplay himself and disguise as a regular person.

"I'll be wearing a crown when they catch me, don't you worry."

Involuntarily, your eyes widen and you're suddenly grasping at his shirt and looking up into his eyes beseechingly, desperate for answers. "You're going to get caught?" You sound aghast, disbelieving and you feel like you've been wronged - like this is a betrayal.

Moriarty scoffs, but he doesn't pry you from his body. Rather, he simply lets you cling to him. "Not for long. Today, I'm going to get caught stealing the crown jewels."

Your jaw drops open and you fist your hands into his shirt even tighter, pulling so hard you're practically chest-to-chest with each other - with Moriarty staring down at you and you gazing up at him. "The crown jewels."

"Then Pentonville Prison, and the Bank of England, too." He says, grinning.

Really, Moriarty's power and influence shouldn't shock you. He's got loads of people here on strings, following his orders and doing his bidding. They scurry about the mansion in a frenzy, completely obedient to him.

"And you're... going to get caught?"

Moriarty brings one of his hands up to stroke just the top of your head, playing with your hair comfortingly. "Not for long. I'll be out of there before you know it. In the meantime, you'll have jobs to do. Is that okay, Cinderella? You'll play along, won't you?" He croons softly.

"I will." You don't feel half as reluctant as you should.

"Good." Moriarty says, proudly. "That's what matters. You're more than welcome to visit me in jail, though I doubt I'll be there for very long."

There's a knock at the door, and that's when you realise just how close you and he are. Your hands are still fisted in his shirt, he's stroking your hair - and he's so devastatingly close, and there's a pang in your stomach but it's not pain, it's pure feeling.

The loud knocking persists, and reluctantly, you step away, dropping your hands from his body and missing the feel of his hand tangled in your hair.

"Come in, then." Moriarty calls out, looking darkly at the nameless employee of his that enters the study.

"Sir, it's time to go."

Moriarty casts you one last look, his dark eyes roaming over your body, seemingly trying to memorise you - like this moment is something he doesn't want to forget.

You've slotted into his life so well - you're a somewhat unwilling and ungrateful accomplice, but he still very much appreciates you despite that. He finds that, knowing he will be absent for potentially days at a time, he wants to emblazon the very image of you onto the back of his eyelids, so that you're always waiting for him in the darkness.

"Well, Cinderella. Until we meet again." He says, softly.

In the next instant, he's walking out, swiftly followed by his men, and you're left alone in his study, with more questions than answers.

---

There were a great, great many rooms in this mansion. Your time was often divided between your bedroom and Moriarty's study. But today, you were lounging around on some expensive white couch, watching TV intently.

You would constantly be changing news channels, waiting for the story to break. You had seen bits and pieces of dreary, repetitive soap operas, listened to fragments of sports shows, and even made your way through half a nature documentary before anything happened.

You would bite at your lip nervously, fiddle with your hands and pull on your hair. You were nervous, frighteningly so. Naturally, there were a few expected concerns flitting around your mind, like what happens to you if Moriarty actually does go to prison, or what would happen if something goes wrong, or what if he turns you in.

But, there are a few that you hadn't anticipated. There's a twisting, nauseating feeling in your stomach. It's like there's some terrible beast writhing around in your gut, eviscerating any organs it comes into contact with and leaving you a whimpering, anxious mess.

You are worried for him.  

And you're not just worried about what may happen to you - you're actually concerned for him. As much as Moriarty may be a murderer and a criminal, you're those things too, and he's the only person that you have to depend on.

There is nobody else in your life. Nobody but him.

Your parents are long since dead and buried, and the three members of your step-family slain by your own hands. You had come to London alone, friendless and without a plan. He had been the one to secure your freedom, to give you this.

And then, the news channels all practically explode.

" - there has been a break in at the Bank of England. Reportedly, the vault has opened, though how much, or if anything has been stolen remains unknown to us at this time."  

Hastily, you turn the channel over, constantly darting between news sources, hoping for any new information. All of their voices are blaring, and blurring together, but they're not saying what you want them to.

"We can officially report that prisoners at the Pentonville Prison have been - "

And most importantly,

"Following a series of break-ins that include places such as the Bank of England and Pentonville Prison, it has been reported that the Tower of London has been breached, and the Crown Jewels were removed. A suspect has been taken into custody."

"...all broken into by the same man! James Moriarty."

There it is. The news lady finishes her spiel, and the screen flashes up a video. You can't tell whether it's live or not, but it's Moriarty, and he's being arrested, thrown into the back of a police vehicle with his hands cuffed behind his back.

"Oh my god," You breathe, and you have to remind yourself that this is all part of the plan. Moriarty always intended for this to happen.

It does, however, feel awfully perturbing to see him like that. It's like he's tumbled from his pedestal, and been stripped of everything that made him unique. It's pitiful, seeing him cuffed and arrested like he's some common criminal. There is absolutely nothing common about Moriarty, and you doubt there ever has been.

So, this was his weapon. The ability to enter the Bank of England, Pentonville Prison, the Tower of London and who knows where else. If these places were vulnerable to his influence, then surely anywhere was. And that was probably the point. He was showing off - it didn't matter to him whether he was arrested or not.

There was probably a contingency plan for that, too.

This was all meant to happen - this was all part of his design, and you just had to trust in it.

Trust. Wasn't that a funny thing. You frown as you mull it over - trusting in him was probably a dangerous move, but he was the only person you have to trust in, and he had saved you from a fate much worse than this. You would have to believe in him - that everything would work out just fine.

Never in recent years had you been in a position where you had to depend on another person. You had always been the one flitting about, clearing up the mess, taking the abuse and festering in your own anger.

You should be the one in handcuffs - you would have been by now. But you're not, you're here, and Moriarty is the one imprisoned. Perhaps it is time to fight tooth and nail for the freedom of somebody other than yourself.

He would get out. One way or another, Jim Moriarty would make sure that he got free. After all, the game hadn't ended yet, and there were still plans to be fulfilled.

His absence was tangible in the house. There wasn't really anybody else around for you to interact with - his men certainly didn't care to, and you were rather awkward when it came to the realm of social interaction.

All that was left to do was wait, and trust.

[madasthesea]

Trope: Peter defending Tony

Peter peeks his head over the edge of the roof, looking down at the mass of people below him. He’s there for security reasons—not that anyone had asked him to be there, but having this many important people in one place usually meant someone with a grudge was going to be there too. He’s had a bad feeling all morning.

There are three different news stations out front, a couple dozen reporters, and, behind the taped-off barricade, even more teeming public with their phone cameras aimed at the doors of the United Nations headquarters.

“We’re here live in front of the UN Headquarters,” Peter can hear one news reporter saying over the dull roar of the crowd, the microphone held close to her mouth to be heard. “Representatives of nearly one hundred nations are inside along with billionaire Tony Stark, the leader of the Avengers, to ratify the altered Sokovia Accords. Secretary Ro—”

He loses track of her voice as the murmur of the crowd grows into a melee of shouting for attention. The doors open, a couple security guards walk out, followed by Tony Stark, dressed in a three-piece suit and already shoving sunglasses onto his face. Peter snorts as he watches Happy glare at anyone that shouts at Tony too loudly or seems too eager with their camera flash.

Tony seems relaxed enough, even though he keeps his head ducked and doesn’t answer any questions. Peter is familiar enough with the man by now to notice that a lot of the tension that’s been building in his shoulders for the last several weeks is gone now. The Accords must have passed then. Peter smiled behind his mask. He knew they would.

His smile falls as a prickle races up his spine, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

Peter jumps to his feet, trying to see anyone suspicious, anyone with a hand in their jacket. He can’t see, there are too many people and too much noise and all he knows is that Tony’s in danger.

He jumps from the roof, swinging a web out to get to Tony. He lands in a roll then springs up, ignoring Tony’s confused, “Spidey?” behind him as he sticks his hand out on instinct and catches the rock that is about to make contact with Tony’s head.

The crowd falls silent except for the rapid fire clicking of camera shutters.

Tony looks at Peter, looks at the rock in his hand, and says, “Huh.” He sounds almost amused, but Peter isn’t.

Peter bounces the rock between both hands. It’s big, about the size of a baseball, and smooth. Probably from the manicured gardens that line the UN plaza.

It almost hit Tony in the temple. At the right angle, at the right speed...

“Are you alright, Mr. Stark?” he asks quietly. The reporters lean in closer.

“Fine, Spidey,” Tony says, shrugging, as if people throwing rocks at him isn’t that unusual. “Thanks for the save. You know you could have come to the actual signing, right? You did get my invitation, I assume?”

A murmur ripples through the crowd.

“I’d look ridiculous wearing a suit over my suit,” Peter forces out, attempting to play the part of bantering, light-hearted Spider-Man while his head still spins because he can’t believe that someone would... At Tony? When he’s unprotected, when he’s not even looking?

“Get him in the car, Happy,” Peter finally says, peering up at the crowd, scanning the faces, listening to the mass of heartbeats.

“Kid,” Tony says, but Happy takes his elbow and marches him forward. Peter waits until he hears the car door close, then he turns to the commotion happening as a man tries to push desperately through the crowd, a man with a pale face and sweaty forehead, with a too fast heartbeat and with people looking at him in shocked surprise.

Peter slings a web, leaps, and lands in front of him just as he reaches open sidewalk.

He stops short, his eyes wide, glancing around him to try to find an escape.

“This yours?” Peter asks casually, tossing the rock between his hands. The man shakes his head. People shift closer, holding phones out as far as their arms will reach to catch the conversation.

“If you had planned this, you would have brought a gun,” Peter says, tilting his head. “Heat of the moment? Saw an opportunity?”

The man swallows. He’s taller than Peter but that doesn’t matter. Peter could take him with both hands tied behind his back and they both know it. He doesn’t try to run again.

“He deserved it,” the man snaps, but his voice shakes. “He’s a coward. He claims to be a superhero but when has he actually helped anyone?”

“Are you from New York?” Peter asks, incredulous.

The man blinks in surprise. “Yeah.”

“Ok, so when Tony Stark spent hours fighting aliens in the streets, that wasn’t helping?” Peter says, raising his voice so the cameras and reporters that have inched toward them can hear. “When he personally paid for buildings to be repaired and streets to be cleared, that wasn’t helping? When he flew a nuclear bomb into a wormhole—thinking he was going to die—to save Manhattan, that wasn’t helping?”  

The man opens his mouth, but Peter plows forward, taking a step closer. “You would be dead if it weren’t for him. Your family would be dead. And this is how you repay him?” Peter asks, gesturing with the rock he still has clenched in his hand. “Throwing a rock at his head when he isn’t even looking? You could have killed him. And who is the world going to turn to the next time something like the Battle of Manhattan happens, or the Mandarin, or Sokovia? You?”

The man blanches, looking terrified at the very thought.

“That’s what I thought,” Peter hisses. He hasn’t been this angry in a long time. His heart is pounding in his ears and he thinks if he wasn’t being filmed right now, he might actually punch the guy in the face. “I’ve been in battles with Tony. I’ve fought with him. I’ve seen him get out of that suit covered in blood and bruises from getting thrown around and still look after every one of his teammates before himself.”

Peter looks at the faces of the rest of the people, listening intently. Peter doesn’t do speeches, ever, but Spider-Man is different. Spider-Man is listened to, and for Tony’s sake, he has something to say right now.

“I love New York, every part of it. Even the dirty streets and outrageous prices.” A chuckle ripples through the crowd. “But I want nothing to do with a New York that isn’t grateful to Tony Stark. He’s saved the whole world, sure, but he’s saved us more times than most of you probably know. He just saved it again with the Accords and I personally saw how hard he worked, how much he cared. So the next time some coward with a rock or a bad headline comes around thinking they’re going to hurt Iron Man, I’ll be ready to protect him. And I hope the rest of you will too.”

Peter looks at the man in front of him again, who shrinks back just a little as Peter raises the rock in his hand. Then he turns, reels his hand back, and chucks it as hard as he can against the concrete side of the building, where it shatters into powder.

The man turns so white Peter honestly thinks he might faint, but he doesn’t find out because Happy pulls up next to him at that moment.

“Get in, Spider-Man,” he says and Peter quickly complies as the reporters begin shouting questions again, at him this time.  

He slides into the back so quickly he bumps into Tony, tries to pull away, then bumps into him again as Happy peels away from the curb.

“Sorry,” Peter says, but Tony just laughs, puts a hand on his shoulder to still him as he tries to scramble away and put on his seatbelt at the same time.

“It’s fine, kid. Actually, I think I should probably be thanking you for that little speech there, kiddo,” Tony says, ducking his head and taking his sunglasses off.

“No, you don’t—”

“Pete, there’s a lot of reasons someone might hate me. I was not a good person for a long time before you met me and—”

“I don’t care, Mr. Stark,” Peter interrupts, pulling his mask off and scowling at Tony. “You’ve more than made up for it. You’ve... you’ve saved all of us a dozen times over!” His voice drops. “You’ve saved me.”

Tony gives a half smile. “Peter—”

“No, Mr. Stark. You deserve better than—than being called a coward and selfish. You deserve so much better,” Peter murmurs.

Tony’s smile softens as he looks at Peter.

“I’ve got better, kid. I’ve got you.”

I’m no Tony Stark, but thank you all for being my Spider-Man ❤