#this was such a headache i hadnt thought of an outfit so i had to sit there

[weenie-kun]

it is what it is

[lovesickjily]

Motionless

Summary: James had thought that he was the only person in the world who had the power to stop time, but somehow, just the sight of Lily Evans makes every second feel like an hour.

leave some love on  ao3 or ffn

ahhh i hope you enjoy this because i surely did <33

He’d always considered himself a superhero.

No, not that sort of superhero, not the one who was completely for adopting a latex suit of some sort as the most iconic aspect of his or hers— no offence to all of those who did wear such uncomfortable outfits for whatever reason, because such people of power were all bloody awesome, if he did say so himself.

He wasn’t going to be slinging spider webs out of his hands any time soon, nor was he going to take any unnaturally giant being out with just the sheer force of his bare hands, though either of such would have been absolutely wicked considering the fact that he practically idolised such men since he’d been a child.

No, if one were to compare him to the likes of the larger-than-life characters, well, then he’d just be James. He was James, in fact. James Potter, who probably looked to be living that Clark Kent double-life, if he was to be judged by his outward appearance, what with his glasses and messier-than-should-be-allowed hair, but he didn’t stop menacing villains on the side, simply because he was definitely not a superhero.

It didn’t matter that he thought that he was just about cool enough to be a hero, or if he demonstrated courage through his more-than-reckless stunts that he pulled with his best mates daily, or if his kindness could be shown through helping his mum with the chores everyday, or even the mere fact that he’d somehow been born with the ability to stop time at whichever moment and time he wanted. He was not that sort of superhero.

Er, well.

At least he wanted to convince himself that that sort of superhero life wouldn’t work, but alas, words carried a much different power than actions did.

In truth, he found himself stopping time for good reasons, like the occasional stopping time to catch someone who had been so obviously cheating on an exam. Yes, justice had been served that one time he’d done that, because it meant that those who had actually worked for their grades wouldn’t be put to shame by the fact that some cheater had scored just about as high as they did. If he ever had the chance though, he’d definitely use his powers for the greater good, but because this wasn’t New York City, he was not be to greeted by the likes of King Kong or the Green Goblin any time soon. And honestly, thank heavens for that.

He would have absolutely hated to use his powers for something as horrible as stealing from the bank— which he honestly had no need to do, considering the immense wealth that his parents carried and gave him access to— or taking horrible advantage of unsuspecting women— he even shuddered to think about doing such a thing.

Most of the time, anyway.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t used the power to his advantage when playing tricks on his friends, who were none the wiser whenever he planned a surprise ‘attack,’ because there wasn’t even much they could do in defence of themselves, anyway. He could have warned them that he was about to pull a prank on them, but what would it matter if they couldn’t do a thing while frozen in place? It did feel unfair though, and so he’d taken to doing it less often than he’d used to, not to mention the fact that it got a bit old after the first hundreds of times that he’d done it. Well, somewhat old, because it was still funny to see Sirius fall on his face whenever he tied his laces together, but the pranks weren’t enough for his mate to make the decision to invest in the disgrace that was velcro.

And James wasn’t stupid either, because he used his ability for practical purposes too. Take, for instance, when the alarm for early classes went off, he’d simply just freeze time to catch up on all of the sleep that he wanted, or if he pushed an assignment off to the very last day, he easily used his abilities to give him all the time in the world to finish it in ample time.

He remembered when he was little, he froze time to eat all of the ice cream he wanted at the local ice cream shop, an action that his mother was strictly opposed against when she’d found out because she wanted him to eat healthy meals and grow up into a strong man. He’d gotten a horrible stomach ache afterwards, but the ice cream was bloody delicious, so it was honestly well worth it, especially when he supposed that he did grow up well. His face in the mirror proved it.

It was nice to reflect in this sort of weather, he mused. The sky had darkened immensely, having a tendency of some sort to turn as black as coal during the month of November at five in the afternoon, though the stars had yet to come out, not wanting to shine for him, most likely because he was not a superhero and therefore not worth shining for. That was understandable, really.

He liked walking home in the natural quietness, and one thing that he absolutely hated with his powers was that if it ever got too noisy, he could easily mute all sounds in the world, because as much as it seemed to be peaceful, it just felt odd to be walking in a world without a single sound, without a single movement, without a single laugh filling the air. And he supposed that it kind of sort of did feel lonely whenever he froze time when he thought about how he was the only person who was breathing at those moments.

He never tried to overthink on the technicalities of his abilities either, not unless he wanted to suffer from a headache that would last for hours, because even now, at nineteen years, he still had no idea how or why he’d gotten such a power. Perhaps the universe had been drinking when it had come to that decision, because it had chosen him out of all of its worthy options, but at least it didn’t make too bad of a settlement if he wasn’t bloody exploiting it for evil purposes.

He hummed softly to himself, simply because whistling was too ominous a sound to be making in the darkness, and he ignored the franticness of all of the people around him as they scurried to get home, an action that was quite understandable considering the prison-like work conditions that they faced every day with a nine-to-five job. He hoped that wherever life took him, it wouldn’t take him to the restraints that such jobs held.

The pedestrian lights were red, a sign that he was to wait until the street was cleared, and he was nearly tempted to stop time then and there just to cross the street without any waiting time, but he didn’t want to abuse his powers for a matter that was just as insignificant as this, knowing that there were people who would have killed to have such a cool ability. Yeah, he was going to wait for the sign to turn green. It was honestly the least he could really do.

When he did cross the street, in the fairest manner possible, he rounded the corner, knowing each and every time that he had to take, and if he was ever tied up in a chair and told to recreate a map of London, he’d most definitely be able to get it all down to the last detail.

And as he strolled down the street, not a single worry or concern on his mind, he caught sight of red, a very dark red colour that seemed unmatched for another other shade of red that he’d ever seen in his life simply because it was so pretty, and undoubtedly if she were to turn in his direction, she’d be pretty. She was crossing to the other side of the street, not a single car on this particular road, and he would have gone on with his life, seeing as it was completely stalkerish of him to be observing her even though he had absolutely no right to do so, had it not been for the sudden truck that had veered in from the intersecting street.

It hadn’t even seemed to attempt to slow down, definitely not seeing the redhead on the street, but if James was gauging the driver’s facial reactions properly, then it seemed that the man had no power to stop it, and from his jerking motions it seemed he was trying his hardest to unjam one of the pedals. The truck wasn’t going to stop anytime soon.

What was worse though, was the fact that the woman was right in the middle of the street, and the truck was so bloody close that even if she had all the speed in the world, she’d still be unable to avoid a collision with the vehicle. No, no, no. He could not let her die like that, not if he could help it, but just bearing witness to such an event, an event that he’d always hoped could end up with a person being saved by his hands, caused anxiety to rage up within him.

Fuck. What if he somehow, at this very instance, lost his powers, and any efforts that he took would be for naught? No, don’t think that. He could bloody do it, no matter how frozen the sight made him, no matter how much his hands shook at fear that he’d let someone die when he could have saved him.

This was far scarier than he’d ever imagined.

And with each passing second, the truck seemed to be moving faster, and the driver had seemed to have covered his eyes in fear that he was going to kill her. James could not let that happen, and at the very last second, he’d nearly thought that he’d heard the sound of a crash, but to see that she was definitely not lying on the ground meant that his brain had already started conjuring up false sounds to terrify him even more. It was enough for a snap to ring out in the air, and the world grew silent, no slams, no tire brakes, just the sound of his heart pounding against his chest, begging to be freed so that it could witness if he’d assisted in an innocent person’s death.

He hadn’t even realised that his eyes had been closed, but when he opened them again, he saw that the truck and its driver had been completely still. What scared him, terrified him, was the fact that the woman was so clearly shaking with fright, and—

No, that couldn’t be right. Nobody was able to move when he froze time, nobody but himself, but there she was, her head whirling around as she took in the sight of the frozen world around her, and when her eyes— green and beautiful and lovely and filled with every single emotion concerning fear— fell upon his, they widened, and before doing anything else, she quickly moved out of the way of the truck, as if it would suddenly roar back to life to crash into her like a wave against the sandy shore.

It was as if her eyes held some sort of spell themselves, because the sight of her, so much more beautiful than he could ever imagined, sent shooting stars racing through his heart, and he suddenly felt as if he couldn’t move, as if she could stop time herself. From the way she’d reacted to his abilities, though, it seemed that it was only all in his head, because he didn’t think that he could be thinking if that was the case.

He watched her carefully, and she hesitated at first before ultimately deciding to approach him, the only other person able to move in an otherwise still world. She stopped a good few feet in front of him, holding her umbrella out in front of her as if it was a sword. “Who are you?” she asked, her voice wavering slightly as she tried to take on a fearless tone, and he couldn’t help but show surprise at her response.

He didn’t expect her to fall onto her knees out of complete gratitude or anything elaborate of that sort, but in his many scenarios that he’d conjured up as how he was to save a person’s life in the most extreme way, none of them featured the girl threatening to poke his eye out with an umbrella. “I don’t think my identity is important right now,” he told her, more out of fear that she’d call the cops on him for whatever reason, “Are you all right?”

“Is he all right?” she responded, her words stressed with urgency, and she pointed back at the bloke in the truck.

“He’s fine.” He waved it off dismissively. “I’m asking about you.”

“He’s bloody frozen in place!”

“And you almost got hit by a truck!” he shot back, and he flinched, not exactly liking that he’d raised a voice at a complete stranger who most definitely was not in the wrong, “Er, sorry. I just— how exactly are you still moving?”

She looked at him as if he was insane. “Are you to say that I’m not supposed to be moving?”

He gulped, hopefully not too visibly, because he had the upper hand here. He had the ability to stop time, and yet, she was somehow immune to it, for whatever reason unbeknownst to him. How the actual fuck was she immune? Never in his life had he ever met anyone who hadn’t been affected by his abilities, and yet there she was, her eyes glaring at him as she demanded an answer from him. “I reckon you can answer that for yourself.” He motioned towards the rest of the quiet world.

“I can’t, actually, considering the fact that there’s absolutely no scientific reason that could explain why nothing in the world is moving except for us. I mean, theoretically, shouldn’t we be dead if nothing is moving? Shouldn’t we be at absolute zero if that was the case? I just—” She stopped, her eyes widening, and when she spoke again, her voice was higher with much more panic. “What exactly is going on?”

He didn’t know how to answer her, and he merely looked back at her.

She seemed to lose her balance then, landing onto her knees as her hands flew up to her mouth at just how overwhelming it all was. “This can’t be possible. I should be dead right now. No one can possibly be able to stop time. Oh god, I’m going insane.”

He edged towards her, slowly, like one would approach a startled animal, and when he was looming over her, he reached a hand out awkwardly, patting her on the shoulder because he didn’t know what to do with someone who was so evidently distraught by being a first-hand witness to his abilities. “I can assure you that you’re not dead, nor are you crazy.”

“No, I know I’m not crazy,” she responded, and she looked at him with her eyes, the green seeming to pierce into his soul, “I— The thing is, I’ve been in these frozen times before. I’ll be talking to my friend, and the next thing that I know, she stops moving. I’ve been witness to all of this before, and it’s just— it’s just terrifying yet so relieving to know that it’s not be behind all of this. Terrifying mostly, but god.”

He merely blinked at her confession. It was his turn to be surprised now— fuck, wait, no. It was his turn to be even more surprised now. “You’ve been able to do this all your life?”

“Have you been able to stop time all of your life?”

“Yes,” he said in exasperation, “Listen, I’d love to go back and forth about our abilities, but I’m sure it’s just as disconcerting for you as it is for me for time to be frozen for this long.”

“Then undo it!” she exclaimed before her eyes quickly softened at her outrage, “Please?”

He nodded. “Yeah, yeah. I— fuck— How do I undo it without giving the driver a heart attack?”

She stared up at him, and if he could, he would have thrown all caution to the wind and stared at her forever, but he wasn’t a creep, nor was that practical considering their situation. Before he knew what had happened, she had thrown him right over her person so that he was hovering above her, his legs spread on both sides of her and her eyes boring right into his. “Like this.”

“What— what the hell are you doing?” he asked her, but she stayed in that position.

“Isn’t it obvious?” she replied, and no, it was not bloody obvious, because it’d been so long since he’d last had a girlfriend and just the sight of such a gorgeous woman was making his heart nervous, what with the implications that were swarming about with him right over her. “This is the solution to not giving the driver a ‘heart attack,’ as you’d so put it.”

He was going to get a heart attack, if anything. “I don’t get it,” he told her weakly, as if their positions were making his heart physically weaker.

She sighed deeply. “It’s so that the driver would think that you saved me.”

“Oh.”

He was sure that if they’d spent hundreds of years stuck in time, he would never— not even once— come up with an idea that was as smart as her own solution to this problem, and without hesitation, he sent the world filled with sound and movement once again, the sound of the truck’s horn filling his airs as it rushed past them.

It was funny really, how he’d paused and unpaused the world at least a hundred times already, yet he could still not bring himself to get over the difference in how much louder the world was when it was action in comparison to the still world that he got to experience for himself. Her eyes had fallen shut at the sound as she flinched, and when the ugly screech of the tires filled the air, he knew that the driver had managed to work his brakes once again, taking control of the vehicle as it finally came to a halt.

She’d taken to holding on to him, most likely out of more than anything else, which was understandable, really, considering the fact that this giant man-made vehicle had almost killed, would have killed her if he’d come maybe a second too late. There was no power that he held in which he could reverse time and go back, no matter how little seconds he needed, because what was done was done, and at least with his abilities, he could save time.

It didn’t change the fact that their closeness was sending a thrill to his heart, a closeness that was quickly ripped away when the sounds of the driver’s heavy footsteps rumbled down the street as he came to make sure that she was okay. “I’m so sorry! Are you all right? I didn’t hurt you, did I? The brakes got stuck, and—”

The poor bloke seemed to be shaking with fear out of the fact that had he hit her, he would have been charged with vehicular manslaughter and would have had to spend many of his days in prison. There was at least some obligation in the franticness of his words.

“I’m fine,” she managed, and she made a light attempt to push him off of her, but it was enough for James to get the message and pull off of her, “He saved my life.”

The driver’s eyes darted over to James, who had gotten up from the ground and was now holding his hand out to the woman. “That’s good to hear.”

She nodded at him, trembling a bit, and the driver turned around, eager to get away from an avoided crime scene. She put her hand in James’s, accepting it, and he pulled her up so that they were both standing. “I suppose I haven’t thanked you for saving me yet. I’m sorry, by the way, for snapping at you the way I did.”

He shrugged. “It’s fine. Understandable, really, when these powers are actually hard to grasp.”

The corner of her lip rose slightly. “Thank you, though. I don’t know how else to explain to you that I’m so thankful for you being there.”

“You are all right, aren’t you? Heard that three times in the last— shit, I don’t even know how to describe the time that passed— few moments, but I just want to be sure.”

“Yeah. I— yeah,” she replied, taking in a deep breath, “I’m fine. Really.”

He probably didn’t look convinced at her words, judging from the way she was looking at him, and before he could fully process the next few seconds, it was like time had frozen despite him not moving a finger, because he suddenly felt her lips falling against his cheek without any warning whatsoever. He was fully aware of how much his cheek was burning from just her touch, just a sweet and innocent gratuitous kiss, yet it seemed to be spreading down throughout his body, like how a single spark could ignite an entire building.

It was probably the only aspect in his superhero fantasies that had played out, and when she pulled away, landed effectively back onto the flats of her feet, she gave him a small smile before turning around to leave. He stood in shock for a few moments, as if she really had frozen him, and it wasn’t until she was near the other side of the street that he’d snapped back to his senses. “Wait!” She turned around, and he took it as a cue to rush up towards her. “I— You’re not saying this is it, are you?”

She looked at him in concern. “Sorry?”

“Swear I don’t feel entitled to your affections, but it’s just that I’d like to see you again sometime.”

Her head tilted to the side in confusion. “I think with your abilities, we’ll see each other soon.”

He nodded. “What’s your name?”

“Did you say identification wasn’t important right now?”

“Well, yeah, but that was then, and—” He stopped, cutting himself off, because he wasn’t even sure if she wanted to see him again before ultimately deciding to continue. “I dunno, it’s just that it’s hard to not bond with someone who shares something with you.”

“And what do we share? A near-death experience? Or is it the fact that we’ve somehow got the abilities to not be affecting by time stopping?”

“Both, I reckon, only I’d like to be optimistic about this and see the bright side of things.”

His words finally brought out a pretty smile from her, and he found that he quite liked the curve of her lips. “Lily.”

“That’s a strange reply,” he joked, and when she rolled her eyes, he added, “It’s pretty. Lily. Yeah, that’s a pretty name. If you like the name James, I reckon we both share pretty names as well, except I think yours is far prettier.”

“Your constant use of the same adjective makes me question the authenticity of your compliment.”

“Why? I think it just goes to emphasize just how pretty I think your name is. That among other things.”

“Like how pretty your name is?”

“Sure. You could say that, but really, it’s just to show just how in awe I am of your utter beauty. Like, wow, you goddess.”

She smiled sweetly at him. “I should get going now. It’s getting late.”

“What’s the rush?”

“An impending fear that another truck will materialise in front of me, and you won’t be there to stop time.”

“Yeah, you got me there,” he said, his lips curving upwards, “I’ll see you, yeah?”

She nodded. “Bye, James.”

And as she walked away, he stood there pondering what the bloody fuck just happened, but there was one thing for sure: he was definitely a superhero like the likes of Spider-Man and Captain America.

Or, perhaps more fittingly, he wanted to be a superhero if it meant that he’d save her once again. If it meant that he’d see her once again.

***

He didn’t think he ever felt as strongly as he did for the redhead who began to frequent his dreams and his mind nearly every second of every day as with any other woman who crossed his path.

He didn’t find himself freezing time all that often, but when he did, he wondered if she thought about him whenever she found herself stuck in a frozen world as well, and that mere thought made him feel at least a little less lonely. It was quite lovely, actually, how in those frozen moments, just as if they were stuck in a still picture, they were the only people breathing life into an otherwise silent world.

Meeting her, it seemed, made him at least a million times more poetic than he’d ever thought he could ever be.

The breeze that was November quickly blew over until the month on the calendar turned into December, and every street that he crossed from uni every day became holiday-filled, with the merry Santas and the jolly snowmen greeting the sights of every person who walked by. It was strange, he marvelled, at how just a refreshing change in scenery seemed to brighten the moods of every person, and even though James hadn’t seen Lily since that horrible night where she’d almost made eye contact with the likes of Death, he still found himself walking with a light flourish in every single one of his steps.

The thing with winter was that magic seemed to be more of a prospective force that swirled about in the air, simply because it was a force that was present in this time, appearing as the natural phenomenon that was snow. He’d always loved snow, always loved freezing time in the dead of winter, because there was just something so beautiful about the little crystallines suspended in the air, as if they were being hung up by a string in a children’s Christmas production. He didn’t know why exactly he’d chosen to freeze time at this very second, but he did, and the snow, which had been falling down as flurries, ceased to move, involuntarily choosing to decorate the open air the way one would decorate a Christmas tree.

There was no problem in his movements either, because walking forward would just make the little dots melt right onto him, but it wasn’t too hard to stop to admire each of their unique, individual shapes, a feat that most people were unable to see because they melted far too quickly before they could properly pay the attonage that such works of nature begged for.

With his ability, though, he had all the time in the world to give nature all of the appreciating that it wanted.

The crunch in the snow snapped him out of his thoughts, though he wasn’t scared at all, because the sounds were an indication of the person who he so desperately wanted to see again, and so he calmly turned around, bracing himself for the beauty that he was inevitably going to see.

No amount of preparation could truly ever prepare him for the sight of her, because the snow in her hair made her look like an absolute angel, decorating the strands as if they were a crown of some sort, and the coldness had left a rosy tint in her cheeks. There was a scarf wrapped around her neck, and she looked to be the epitome of all that winter embodied. When his eyes met hers, she beamed at him, a sort of smile that caused a light to shine in her eyes and crinkles to appear.

“I knew I was going to see you today,” she told him, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice, “The first snow of the year is always the best snow of the year.”

“Correction: every snow of the year is always the best snow of the year.”

“Does that mean that I’ll see you each snowfall?”

“If that’s what makes it the best snow, then yeah.”

Her smile seemed to grow exponentially at his words. “I usually get terrified whenever time freezes, but right now, it really does feel like a Winter Wonderland. How have you been? Have you been well?”

“I reckon I am now that you’re here,” he said, finding it difficult to not be smiling with the contagiousness of her evident joy. “What about you? I mean, clearly you’re happy, and that’s bloody great, but how have your days been before?”

“I couldn’t get you out of my mind,” she admitted, and his heart felt as if it was flying right up into the sky, wanting to get lost in the clouds, “There’s just something so memorable about a man who can literally make time stop as he so desires.”

“I could say the same about you.”

“I can’t stop time though,” she said, and she reached upwards, pulling a snowflake from his hair and watching as it melted in her hand.

“Well, I beg to differ.”

“Oh?”

“It feels like time stops whenever I look at you.”

Confusion flew across her face. “Time is frozen.”

“No, not like— fuck.” In one quick motion, he made the snow begin to fall as scheduled once again. “You make it almost like time slows down to me.”

Comprehension dawned on her face in the form of redness on her cheeks. “You’re exaggerating it.”

“Not a bit.”

She looked so beautiful with the snowflakes tickling her face, decorating the sleeves of her jacket, and her colours— vibrant reds and greens— reflected the merriness of this wonderful time while also contrasting against the stark whiteness of the snow. “James—”

“Can I kiss you?” he asked her, and he wished that it had come naturally for them, but he just couldn’t help the words from falling out of his lips, “Only except I’ve been dreaming for this moment since that night, and only if you want to, obviously.”

She didn’t answer him— or least, not immediately— only blinking at him, and he so desperately wished that he could freeze time, freeze her, so that he could make his getaway, because it was so obvious that she was going to turn him down, that his request was far too sudden for her to grant. He felt like an absolute idiot, and though he had never intended for his abilities to appear as an attempt to woo the other gender, perhaps it was coming off as such to her.

His hand flew up to his hair when she only continued looking up at him, and he’d nearly begun to give it up, to tell her to forget about it and leave her in the snow, but right when he’d turned around, he heard the sounds of the snow crunching behind him. It was as if the world had quickly spun in front of his eyes, had progressed forward in such a manner that he found it difficult to keep up, because the next thing that he knew, the next thing that his brain was processing was the mere fact that he was kissing her.

He felt warmth enveloping his lips, and in the moment before he’d closed his eyes, he noticed just how slowly the world seemed to be moving for him, as if it had decided to shut down solely for them, as if it had built everything that had ever happened in his life for this event. He was frozen with the coldness of the world, yet she somehow brought heat all throughout him, and that mere fact was comforting enough for him to close his eyes, to bask in the beauty that was her.

It was short and sweet, and before he knew it, she had pulled away from him, though it didn’t change the fact that her eyes seemed brighter than they had been before, didn’t change the fact his lips continued to tingle afterwards. “Just so you know, I didn’t kiss you because you saved my life.”

“I— yeah, no. I know,” he let out. Way to be smooth, James. “That’s not usually why women kiss me, anyway.”

Her eyebrows flew upwards. “Sorry?”

“Shit, I mean, fuck. I didn’t mean it like that, swear.” During times like these, he truly, madly, deeply wished that he instead had the ability to go back in time, but he wasn’t going to be picky about the power that the universe deemed him worthy of holding, even if it did turn him into more of an arrogant arse.

Of course the person with whom he’d fumble his words would be the one person who was unaffected by his ability to stop time, and he wished he could melt into a puddle just so as to not bear such embarrassment in front of the one person he wanted to impress. It wasn’t until she’d spoke that he’d realised that he was merely being overdramatic, and she said, “I know. I was only messing with you.”

“You were— what?”

“Why do you think I kissed you?”

“Shit, I think I’ll be digging my own grave no matter what I tell you.”

“You won’t,” she said, and then she gave him a coy smile, “If you want, you could freeze time, and I’ll play along so you could make your escape.”

“I don’t reckon you’re really going to let me do that.”

She shook her head. “Not at all.”

“Then, you kissed me because you find me irresistibly attractive and charming?”

“Are you stating it or asking it?”

“I dunno,” he said, shrugging, “I don’t want to come off as a self-absorbed prick if I say it like a statement.”

“You won’t, because you are very much ‘irresistibly attractive and charming,’ as so you put it,” she assured him, and to confirm her words, he watched her stand on the very tips of her toes, reaching up to press another kiss to his lips. It was probably supposed to be brief, but he couldn’t help it, securing his arms around her waist as he pulled her closer to him, and— perhaps as ironic emphasis more than anything else— he willed time to stop, the world literally stilling around them.

The snow stopped falling, and the distant blares of the city became mute once more as the only sound that he could focus on was her soft laugh, muffled slightly on his lips. She pulled away just when he’d gotten comfortable. “Did you really just stop time for a kiss?”

“Do you blame me?” he replied, “Really adds on to the magic, I’d say.”

Her eyes crinkled in response, and she playfully squeezed his arms. “Turn it back.”

He watched as snow lighted dotted the top of her hair and felt his lips quirking upwards at the sight, beauty falling right upon beauty. “It’s back to normal now, but I swear, once I look into your eyes again it’ll just start stopping on its own again.”

“For you, maybe. Not for me.”

“Yeah? Look into my eyes then. Tell me you’re not getting lost in the colours.”

She laughed. “You’re just going to use your ability on me if I do look at your eyes.”

“Maybe,” he agreed, “Or maybe I’ll just give in and kiss you again with your granted consent.”

He watched as her eyes— swirling with fascination and joy— light up even more, perhaps to the point that they could melt the snow right then and there if they so wanted to, at his words, and she was a snowflake of her own, the sort in which she truly was unique, so distinguishable from the rest.

If he could choose a moment to freeze and cherish forever, he would choose this very moment, wanting to capture the breathtaking image of her to engrave onto his brain. And growing in the very depths of his heart was a strong feeling, a feeling that could not lie to him, that told him he’d continue to have many more of these wondrous moments.

Now though, as he grinned down at the beautiful redhead, he was going to put his full heart and mind into ensuring that she was going to enjoy their time together as well.

And time, it seemed, was forever going to be on their side.

He had his ability to prove it, much to the future joy— and occasional chagrin— of Lily.

[haberdashing]

The Spider and The Bee

Gwen Stacy gets a car that turns out to be more than meets the eye.

(Yes, this is a Spider-Verse/Bumblebee crossover fic. Yes, this is solely because Hailee Steinfeld plays both roles. So sue me.)

on AO3

Gwen Stacy gets a car for her sixteenth birthday, and she knows that she really should be grateful.

Her parents meant well, she’s sure. And a lot of kids her age would kill to have a car of their own. But to Gwen, the car seems like more trouble than it’s worth. Finding parking for it is generally more of a hassle than just dealing with the idiosyncrasies of the New York City subway system.

(Plus half the time she’s navigating the city, she’s doing it via web-slinging, but her parents don’t know about that part, and if she has any say in it, they never will.)

The car in question isn’t exactly endearing itself to her, either. It’s an old-fashioned Volkswagen Beetle, the kind that she thought had died off decades ago. It looks well-maintained enough, but even Gwen, who is far from an expert on cars, notices that the radio never works and that it sometimes takes multiple tries to start. Her father lets slip at one point that it was obtained in a bust on a chop shop upstate, and honestly, it doesn’t surprise her. An ignoble origin for an ignoble vehicle.

Oh, and the Volkswagen Beetle is yellow. Not a nice, subtle, pastel yellow, either. It’s a bright yellow, a nauseatingly in-your-face yellow, a shade of yellow that reminds her of bumblebees and kindergarten crayons.

Gwen Stacy likes stealth, when she can get it, and this car is anything but stealth.

But she still uses the car from time to time, when where she wants to go is either hard to get to via public transit or off the map entirely. She lies through her teeth about how much she loves the car and appreciates having it.

She even gives it a name, as is their family tradition. She dubs it Bee.

Gwen tells her parents that the name Bee is because the car is the same shade of yellow as some species of bees, and that it’s also short for Beetle, and she’s not lying when she says it, not exactly.

But Bee (or B) can be short for a lot of other things, too. Like Beware. Or Beneath me. Or Below average.

And there’s also how the car always smells like honey, to the point where Gwen honestly wouldn’t be surprised to find out that there was a beehive hidden away somewhere inside the car.

There’s also that, while spiders can kill bees, sometimes the reverse is possible as well. It fits how Gwen always feels herself tensing up when she enters the car, how she’s not entirely sure if she’s joking when she tells friends that that car will be the death of her.

But much as Gwen dislikes the car, she has to admit that it’s handy to have around sometimes.

There’s one night in particular where she just wants to get away from it all, and she drives and drives until asphalt turns to dirt, until New York City is just a twinkle in the distance. Once she’s sure that she’s well and truly in the middle of nowhere, Gwen gets out of the car, sits on the ground, and gazes up at the stars.

(She feels a pang of loss when she remembers how Peter always had the constellations memorized, how he would have pointed out stars in the sky and named them all until the sun had risen over them. But Peter wasn’t here now, never would be again because of her, and without his help she couldn’t so much as find the Big Dipper.)

It’s nice to have a moment to just sit there and relax. She doesn’t have to think about her life back in New York, about all the pressures placed upon her both as Gwen Stacy and as Spider-Woman. She can just take in the beauty of the stars and the soft, cool breeze that makes the trees gently sway in the wind and forget the rest of the world entirely.

That is, until she glances over at her car and finds that it’s not there, and that some sort of robot had taken its place.

...or rather, as she looks closer and notices the robot’s bright yellow color under the pale light of the moon and stars, that her car had somehow turned itself into some sort of robot.

Gwen stands up immediately and blurts out the first words that come to mind.

“Are you my car?”

She sees the transformation this time, sees the metal twist and turn and shift into place as what had been a robot turned itself back into the Volkswagen Beetle that she had grown to know, if not love.

“You- you can change back, it’s alright.”

It-

No, that doesn’t feel right. Gwen had already half thought of Bee as a “he” even before her personification of the car became so, well, literal.

He changes back into his robotic shape. His form is generally humanoid, with what looked like a face holding big blue eyes that were shining right at her.

Gwen hopes that she was right in thinking that this spot was in the middle of nowhere, hopes that it’s obscure enough that nobody else would see what her car had become.

“Can you understand me?”

Bee makes a strange noise, one that she could swear sounded a bit like a bumblebee’s buzz, and one that she definitely didn’t know how to interpret.

“Nod your head if you can understand me.” Gwen demonstrates, and Bee replies in kind.

Okay, so they have a language in common. That’s good. Just thinking about trying to invent a language that humans and robots could share is enough to give Gwen a bit of a headache.

“Can you talk?”

Bee buzzes at her again. She thinks she knows what that means, but she wants to be sure.

“Shake your head like this if you can’t talk.” Gwen shakes her head, and so does Bee.

That was... less good. It would be a lot easier if they could talk to one another about what was going on rather than just Gwen asking questions and Bee having to gesture out his responses. But then, nothing in Gwen’s life ever seemed to come easy.

“Are there others like you?” she asks.

Bee stays silent and still for a long moment.

“Or do you not know?”

Bee shakes his head without prompting and lets out a soft whirring noise that sounds a bit like a sigh.

Okay. So not only does she not know the big picture here, he doesn’t either. They are both utterly clueless.

They’re so screwed.

“That’s fine, that’s fine!” Gwen’s voice turns oddly high-pitched as she tries to reassure Bee, the palms of her hands raised and facing towards him. “We can work this out. I’ll help you. We can do this.”

Bee stands up, and Gwen realizes for the first time just how tall he is. He definitely couldn’t fit in her family’s tiny garage like that. And she feels small in comparison, tiny compared to this massive robot facing her, and she has a suspicion that Bee feels the same way.

Gwen’s heart races as she gets an idea of how she can prove to him that she’s not as incapable as she appears. It’s a risk, sure. But he had just revealed what had to be his biggest secret to her, and it felt right to reciprocate the gesture.

She doesn’t have her full Spider-Woman suit with her, hadn’t thought it necessary to bring it all the way out to the middle of nowhere.

(That was probably for the best, really; she probably would have left it in the car, and she suspects that anything in the car has been crushed and mutilated beyond recognition by now, though if all she lost because of her giant robot car was the handful of emergency supplies she left in the trunk and the spare outfit and papers she kept in the glove compartment, that would count as a win in her book.)

But she does have her web-shooters, tucked under her sleeves, just in case.

Gwen shoots one web out onto Bee’s left arm, then another onto his right arm. The webs send her soaring upwards, and she leaps with all her power until she and Bee are face-to-face. She does a flip in the air as she descends, balancing on the tips of her toes for a moment before letting her entire feet hit the ground.

She takes a bow at the end of her little performance, though she highly doubts that Bee would understand the meaning of it.

“Bee, meet spider.”

Gwen isn’t sure of the exact meaning behind Bee’s excited whirring and buzzing, but she assumes it was some kind of positive feedback directed her way.

“We should probably head back in a bit, before my dad starts asking too many questions.” Gwen says. “But first, can I take a picture of you? I have some-”

Gwen laughs quietly to herself, partly because this whole situation is completely and utterly absurd, but partly because she knows just a few short months ago she never would have envisioned herself saying what she was about to say next.

“-some friends who might be able to help us. And I think the first step is letting them get a look at you.”

Bee nods, and Gwen dutifully pulls out her cell phone and snaps a photo of her robot car.

Gwen has a thousand more questions that she feels like asking, but she has a feeling that Bee doesn’t know the answers to most of them either. So instead of trying to get more information out of Bee, she just sighs and says, “Bee, let’s head home.”

Bee turns back into a Volkswagen Beetle, and Gwen steps inside, and she doesn’t feel quite as tense upon entering Bee as she usually did, probably because she knows now why the car had always left her feeling vaguely on edge, and it had nothing to do with it being old-fashioned or bright yellow.

They pass the time on the drive back to New York City in silence, because Gwen doesn’t want to risk people seeing her talk to her car and the radio still isn’t working. And Gwen begins to get a pit in her stomach as it dawns on her that she now has two huge secrets to keep instead of just one.

Because her life wasn’t complicated enough before, apparently.

[runephoenix6769]

Winter Solstice.

NaNoWriMo 

Chaps 1 - 4 here

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16500653/chapters/38646758

PART 3 B

Accosting a beverage from the laden tray carried by a passing waiter, Winter sulkily cast her eyes round the room.  Most of the crowd gathered here today were a mainly from Atlas, made apparent by the deep colours and militaristic style clothing that had come in fashion of late. The majority of the boys haircuts leaned heavily towards the army, short sides but long mops on top coiffured in oils to hold the quiffs in place, the women and girls much like her own, pinned up, but in different variations, the odd accent here of jewellery to signify a little individual flair. Some had far more jewels than others, indicating their wealth and status.  But there were other people here from the outlying parts of Vale and Mistral, their styles a little more relaxed and not quite as formal.

Winter spotted the flash of a golden head dress atop deep red hair, Cassandra Nikos, beside her stood her parents who were animatedly chatting to another set of proud parents. Behind the tall athletic teenager a smaller girl who looked about Weiss’ age, peered out, agog at all the different sorts of weapons that passed her at eye level.

The Niko’s hailed from Argus and often from time to time they would cross paths in the same social circuits. She vaguely remembered her father scoffing at how they were barely just passable to associate with.  

To left of them, Winter spied Khenet with his coach, their brightly coloured and loose fitting outfits looking out of place amongst the stiff suits, form fitted uniforms and tailored dresses of Atlas fashion.  Her father wanted her to think like the future head of the SDC, then she would damn well show him just how erudite she could be. Swamping her juice, she deftly plucked another on as a waiter passed before making a beeline for him, calling out,

“Khenet!”  

Winter caught the ever so slight swivel of his tawny ears towards her before he turned. He seemed almost surprised at being addressed, his ears flickering and twitching.

“Schnee?”

As she drew closer, she continued,

“I wanted to say congratulations on a good match.”  

Arriving, she smiled up at him, holding out her hand for him to take. His eyes flickered to his coach who nodded at him.  He took it. She pulled him in close air kissing his cheeks. Somewhere a flash fizzled and popped.  In his ear, she muttered,

“Why did you call me a murderer?”

Slightly taller, he blinked down at her in genuine surprise,

“I didn’t!”

“But I heard you, just before the match.”

He let go of her hand, his ears flattening and a flicker of disgust on his face,

“Do you think so lowly of my people that you think I would cheat?”

“Well what did you say to me then?”

“I said, Mathereuter,”

Baffled, Winter scrunched her face. Khenet smirked at her,

“You’re clueless? …. I thought all you rich Atleasian people learned foreign languages?”

Winter continued to stare at him blankly. He gave a chuckle,

“It means good luck in Menagease!”

“Oh….” Ducking her head in embarrassment, Winter wiped in slight frustration at a crease in her tracksuit top, “.. Sorry..” After a beat, afraid he was somehow trying to humiliate her, she asked with suspicion, “I thought you were from Vacuo?”

“I am!” The boy smiled, “But I was born in Menagerie, it’s where my mother is from. My father, he’s a Bedouin merchant from Vacuo.”  Khenet’s golden eyes, tightened at the corners, “What’s the real reason why you came over?  Wont your father freak out about you grubbing down with the help?”

The young teenager glanced over the gathering, her father, his white hair and suit bright like a beacon surrounded by the darker colours. By his body language alone Winter could tell he was no doubt in his element, holding court like some aristocrat of old. Bestowing seeds of wisdom upon the peasants who he deemed ought to be crushed under foot to remind them of their place. Furious at the insinuation that she was anything like him, she snapped,

“I am not my father!”

“But you *are* a Schnee?”

See the field in which I plant the fucks I give and thou shalt see that it is barren, she thought darkly.

“I’m more than just a name!”

“Oh really? And how is that?”

Khenet’s coach let out a loud burp as he hovered closeby. Winter gave a disgusted sniff. With a haughty tip of her head, she looked the Vacuoan boy in the eye,

“I came over here to congratulate you on a good match. As I doubt,” She gave a toss of her head, “ We shall see each other again on the circuit.”

“Yeah?” He snipped back, “Why is that?”

Winter set her shoulders, proudly announcing,

“I am putting away childish things and progressing to the sabre.”

Khenet snorted, causing Winter’s eyes to narrow.

“You?” He guffawed, “You’re progressing to the sabre? You know what that entails, right?”

“I do!”

“You think you have what it takes?” The faunus boy gave her a condensing look up and down. Winter bristled under the appraisal. “It takes… Creativity … A flair for the dramatic..”

“I can be creative!” Winter replied, indignantly.

Khenet laughed out right,

“You?  Be creative? You have to be one of the most predictable people I have ever competed against.”

“Well, I still beat you!”

“Like I said,” He lazily drawled, “You got lucky!”

A small round of applause rang out as the Winners of the Senior bout were announced and the three victors stepped up onto the stage. A round of camera’s flashing as a young man in the tell-tale dazzling white of an Atlas Military uniform raised the trophy shield over his head. Khenet quite unfazed, continued,

“You can have your sabre. I’m just got accepted into a pre academy and then after than I’m going to apply to one of the big three!”

She retorted,

“You’re going to train to become a Huntsman? What are you going to do, poke a Grimm to death with that knitting needle you call a sword?”

The boy’s eyes flashed with anger,

“Yeah, well when you have one and a ¾  light clones you don’t have to worry about anything else.” He bragged, “My father can do four and he says if I work hard I should be able to do five. What can you do?”

Caught unawares, Winter found herself at a loss for words. Khenet’s ears pricked up as he grinned at her in triumph,

“Exactly!”

Before she could come up with a biting retort, he shrugged himself off the wall stalking off into the crowd. Crossing her arms, Winter scowled at the infuriating boy’s back. A heavily accented voice piped up from beside her,

“You lost that one little Schnee.”

Khenet’s coach had tanned skin and weathered crows feet round the eyes. He smelt of perfume and his dark hair was long, licking against the back of the collar of his open, loose flowing shirt and open bright purple waistcoat, a bright orange sash tied round his lower middle, the silken cloth dangling down off his thigh to the knee. His pants looked baggy, bunching at the ankle and every time he moved his wrist gold bangles clacked off each other. He looked like he hadnt shaved, ever.  From here, Winter caught a whiff of the stale stench of alcohol on his breath, causing her nose to wrinkle. He belched again, not even going to far as to cover his mouth or apologise,

“He’s quite right you know…. It does take creativity and a flare for the dramatic. .. But it also takes guile and a level of intelligence that boy doesn’t possess.” The young teenager was taken aback by the frankness and lack of loyalty, Khenet’s coach showed. He wiped his whiskers with a weather beaten hand, “ –Though it does pay to have a good basis in the fundamentals, you still have to be fast and constantly moving, taking advantage of your terrain. It’s not like today, in some bouts you will be expected to use your semblance.” His piercing indigo eyes focused on the girl. “Do you think you can learn to do that?”

Winter swallowed.  

Did she?  

She was no stranger to hard work, every day she trained without fail, whether it be until her fingers bled on the strings of the cello, her body ached from gymnastics and fencing, or the stress headaches from trying to master her glyphs.

If she dropped the cello, she could focus more on building up her stamina or maybe coax her mother to begin teaching her summoning once more?

Standing tall, she addressed the sword instructor,

“I cant right now… But I ‘shall’ learn.”

From inside his thick whiskers, his teeth gleamed white,

“That’s what I like to hear.”

An official on the stage leaned in to the microphone,

“And finally, Remmant’ s 15 year and under Junior World Championship. Bronze. Cassandra Nikos. Silver Khenet Chausie and Gold, Winter Schnee!”

“Better get a long Princess,” The Vacuoan took a sip of his glass ignoring how the red liquid slightly dribbled into his beard, “Wouldn’t want to miss your crowning now, would you?”

Winter threw him a dark look before setting of towards the stage to collect her hard earned victory.