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xplr-beauty · 4 years

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Ateez: August Dates ~ Week Two

Second part to the Ateez date series! (If you haven't read the first part, it's fine they aren't super connected)

Also it's 4:24a.m. and I did not proof read so sorry for any mistakes I am the tired.

Hongjoong:

Drive-In Movie

You and Hoongjoong got dressed up and headed to the store to buy snacks for your movie night

One of your favorite movies was playing at a park near your house and your boyfriend thought it would be fun to take you to go see it

At the store you guys raced through the aisles to get all the snacks and drinks you wanted, then to checkout in a hurry so you wouldn't be late for the movie

Hongjoong kept telling you to calm down and relax, saying you have plenty of time before the film starts as he laughs at you softly and slowly looks at all the options just to annoy you a bit

You would pull at his arm telling him to just hurry up and pick a snack so y'all could go, at this he would tease you with a 'hmm but maybe I want this snack? Or to try this one?" As he grabbed several packages and read the ingrediates in them very slowly

You would pout a little, or give him an angry glare, either way it would be enough to make him hurry up and choose a snack much faster

Finally leaving the store you guys drove to the park that the movie was being held at, everything was set up old school cinema style and looked pretty retro and 50-60's themed

Making it in plenty of time before the movie started, Hongjoong drove up to the perfect spot and parked the car asking you if you'd rather sit inside the car and watch or if you wanted to sit on the trunk/outside of the car

Whichever you decide, you guys began setting up.

OUTSIDE THE CAR: Hongjoong took the blankets and laid them out on the hood or back of the car while you grabbed a couple pillows and set them up. Joong took out the snacks and set them between you guys before picking you up and sitting you down on the car, before sliding up beside you. He took an extra blanket and covered you up, asking if you were warm and comfortable. After you were ready to go, he laid his head down on you shoulder and leaned up just far enough to kiss your cheek

IN THE CAR: climbing into the backseat together, HongJoong plopped his feet up onto the middle console and you laid your legs over his lap. He pulled you onto his chest and got you all comfy, he made sure you had plenty of blankets, sat the snacks within arms reach, got whatever else you needed set up for you before he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and began eating snacks while staring at the screen waiting for the movie to start

Soon, the movie began to play!!

You guys laughed together, said the lines in perfect timing with the characters, he pointed out his favorite part "ah, this is my favorite scene!" With an excited squeel like tone as he edged closer to the screen a bit

Every now and then he would kiss the top of your head or feed you some of the snacks, offer you some drink silently or squeeze your shoulder/hand just as a reminder he's there

Once the movie was over he 'woow'd the film and complimented it, discussing the film with you before cleaning up the mess and either walking around with you for a bit or driving you straight home if you were too tired

If you fall asleep on the drive home, he'll be in pure heaven with how adorable you are! He wouldn't even bother waking you, he would carry you straight to bed once you got home. (Even if you don't live together, he would also pay respects to your parents/roommates before he leaves thanking them for letting him carry you to bed so you didn't have to wake up from your precious dream) of course, he would leave you with a kiss on your forehead

Seonghwa:

Amusement Park

It's been a while since Seonghwa has been to a good amusement park but hearing you talking about them for weeks on end now, he feels like it would be wrong not to take you

Once you both have free time on a day of nice weather, Seonghwa would take you to a fairly new amusement park only a couple hours away

On the way to the park, you guys would decide what rides you were most excited to try out, discussing taking pictures together and eating some good food. You were both really excited

The worst part of the day was standing in the line to get into the park. You were so eager to go on rides and see the park it felt like hours before you got inside

Once in the park however, it was worth the wait! Everything was better than you imagined, more magical than you were expecting. Every single ride looked tempting, all the characters in the park walking around looked fun and so cool, there were little food stalls full of unique and aesthetically pleasing foods, you didn't know where to start.

Seonghwa pulled out his camera secretly while you were in awe of the park and he managed to snap an embarrassing photo of you in front of the entrance, in the photo you looked like you had drool running out of your gaped mouth in excitement!

Seonghwa pointed out three rides for you that were all at the entrance, suggesting you start with a ride to get your blood pumping before heading around the park

The first option was a Go-Kart themed bug mobile racing arena, the second a 'BATMAN' rollercoaster ride, and lastly the 'CYBORG' a 7 story high anti-gravity thrill ride

GO-KART: if you choose the Go-Kart racing, Seonghwa would chuckle slightly as he takes you by the hand and leads you through the crowd of people and towards the colorful building near by. Inside you both got to choose your carts, he got into a purple and orange spotted beetle with a silly face as you got into the one beside his. Seonghwa struggled to put on his seatbelt, looking around the kart in utter confusion. You roll your eyes a bit before hoping out and running over to help your man buckle up, teasing him lightly before getting back in your kart. Once the race started, you guys drove around the garden like track racing up and down the four lane track as you cheer and laugh as you pass by one another. The ride was short but oh so sweet! You would hollar at him a bit as he sped past you on the last lap, though you were able to quickly catch up!

BATMAN ROLLER COASTER: If you decide to pick the roller coaster, Seonghwa would nod in slight anxiousness as you run towards the ride and he follows after you slowly. After waiting in line for a good while with Seonghwa squeezing your hand beside you, its finally time to ride the coaster. Sitting beside you, he would shake the bar a bit to make sure it was locked in tight before the roller coaster began creaking it's way towards the tall climb. The ride was really cool and full of high top drops, loops, and swirls. Sometimes you were upside down, sometimes you were dropping down 15 feet at 50 miles per hour before going on a wingover corkscrew descent fast enough to plaster you to your seat

CYBORG: heading down to the metropolis section of the park that was close by, Seonghwa made a few jokes saying you may be too short to ride and teasing you a lot. However once you made it, it became clear you are not too short! Getting onto the gondola side by side, Seonghwa locks his harness in place and checks yours to make sure it's tight and secure enough, feeling very overprotective in this moment. Soon the ride would start lifting off the ground and spinning on all three axis flipping you guys upside down and all around as it goes fast and then faster and you fly head over heels. The ride had you laughing, maybe screaming, maybe aloud Maybe on the inside. It just had Seonghwa making that 'what am I doing with my life?' Face as he questions silently how the rest of the day will go. Soon the ride lowered to the ground and you were let out of your seats. You would ask Seonghwa if y'all could ride again as you teater totter side to side finding it hard to stay balanced on your own two feet

After this, you walk around for a bit and take photos, either with Characters or fancy props around the park

Between photographs, you two go on more interesting rides, maybe stop for food and some drinks. He takes you into a couple gift shops if they look interesting enough. Basically, he let you dictate the day for the most part

Every now and then he would go all 'mama Hwa' mode on you, yelling for you to stop running, telling you to take his hand as you walk through crowds so you don't get lost, squatting down to tie your shoes, wiping your face as you eat. He would pull you into a gift shop and purchase sunscreen, helping you apply it in the middle of the store saying its too hot and you're gonna get burned if you don't take precautions. He would scold you a bit if you hurt yourself before taking care of your injury for you. He was just, very protective! He even had you guys stand in the shade after every few rides just to make sure that you wouldn't over heat

As the day went by, you guys rode most of to every ride you wanted to go on, he bought you a few things you wanted even if you insisted he didn't have to. He got a keychain with your name on it to add to his key ring so he'd always have a piece of you with him

Before you guys went home, Seonghwa with you on his back and bags in his hand, he stopped to buy a year round pass so you could come back whenever you wanted to. Afterwards, he carried you to the car and buckled you in, kissing the top of your sleeping head and scolding you quietly for making him carry you (though he really didn't mind and he actually quite enjoyed it!)

It was quite dark when you guys ended up leaving and Seonghwa struggled a bit to drive the few hours home but every time he looked over and saw your peaceful face, he felt stronger and was able to get you home safely

Yunho:

Stargazing

You both were very excited to watch the stars together tonight, all day you walked around looking for the perfect spot which ended up being; the roof OR the garden in the backyard right

Either way, Yunho carried out blankets and set them up to make it more comfortable for you both, he also took out a telescope (if you chose backyard) to make things easier to see

BACKYARD: Wrapped in blankets and standing at the telescope, Yunho looked first in order to place it prefectly in a gorgeous spot before passing it to you to look through. You took turns using it, either him bending down to see little things as you gaze between him and the sky, or you looking through the scope as he holds your waist from behind

ROOF: Sitting on the roof together and pointing to different sections of the sky he traced random patterns out with his fingers, one eye squinted shut as he talks in a cartoon voice pretending the stars are cartoon characters and trying to make you laugh

Throughout the night you look for the constellations and Yunho 'helps' you look for them before eventually asking what they look like and what exactly should he be looking for cause all he can find is an octogon cluster, a few small hearts, Spongebon and Patrick playing leapfrog and a pirate hook

Upon successfully making you laugh, Yunho would grab you by the waist and lay both down together with you in his lap as you stare up at the stars and talk about how peaceful the night sky is

You share your dreams, talk a little about astrology, and discuss your future together as you hold hands and cuddle closely while crickets chirp quietly near by and the faint sound of an owls howl fills the air

Soon it begins to run and Yunho runs you inside so you don't get wet and sick before he grabs the blankets & other things to keep them from getting damaged and unusable

Inside together, you a little wet but mostly dry since he covered you with his body and Yunho soaked from head to toe, you guys both laugh a little

You pull out a towel you had grabbed while he was getting the blankets and things, and you immediately begin to pat him dry as you scold him for risking getting sick

"If I get sick it just means you'll have to nurse me back to health." He whispers a bit while staring into your focused eyes

Yeosang:

Skateboarding

At the skate park, Yeosang was teaching you how to skate (or teaching you a new trick if you already know how to skate)

He would demonstrate the steps going very slowly so you could learn and understand what he was doing before letting you try step by step

Teaching you how to kick off for this special move Yeosang would show you 2-3 times before helping you onto the board (if you need it) and watching you try to do the same thing he did as he follows semi close behind to help prevent you from falling off just in case

You guys would practice as many times as you needed too before you got it right and he would fist bump nothingness in excitement before cheering you on and letting you know he knew you would get this. "Yes, I knew you could get it! Fun isn't it?"

He would help you step by step repeating this as many times as possible until you learned the full trick, he would catch you every time you began to fall, teach you in different ways if he saw you struggling to much and even when he got frustrated he just took a deep breath and let you know he's proud of you even if you are struggling to get a hold of this

Once you finally nailed the trick he clapped and jumped up into the air cheering in joy for you before running over and pulling you into a big hug or high fiving you, or both as he shows that big smile of his and asks you to do the trick once more as he secretly records you and saves the video to a private file full of photos and videos that he has taken of you

Before you guys leave the park, you both free skate a bit, you may both stand on the skateboard together as he holds you waist and takes you around in a circle, or you may play a little game of skateboard tag together

If you get tired and want to sit for a bit Yeosang would ask of it was okay for him to skate alone or if you'd prefer he sat with you, he didn't want you to feel alone but he really wanted to skate as well and today was the perfect day for it

Eventually you guys leave hand in hand, Yeosang lets you ride his skateboard on the way back home as he holds your hands and guides you, confusing him as he skips the turn onto your street and instead leads you to the ice cream joint and pizza parlor near by insisting ice cream & pizza tastes best after skateboarding all day, you would have to agree to this!

San

Beach Volleyball

Playing volleyball together on the beach, you and San ran back and forth on your repsective sides chasing after the ball and taking turns hitting it back to each other

You both let out little grunts of exhaustion as you ran, occasionally you would fall and he would let out little laughs before going up to net and checking on you

You would get so happy when he fell so you could laugh back at him before checking on him

You both were being very competitive today not wanting to lose, but also not really keeping track of points

One time you went to hit the ball and it bounced off the net hitting you in the face instead. San laughed so hard he fell to the ground holding his ribs unable to breath, you laughed as well which is why he didn't feel bad for laughing

In the end, you were alright but slightly annoyed at your lovers behaviour

Soon, another couple came up and asked to play against you guys meaning you and San had to work together

You thought it would be really easy since you guys are dating after all meaning you know each other pretty well but uh no, no it wasn't so easy

Throughout the match you and San kept running into each other, accidentally tripping over one another, or just avoiding the ball all in all cause you thought the other one would get it

The couple asked for a lunch break, upon seeing you guys struggling

During lunch, you and San discussed your game plan, one of you would take the front the other would take the back and you would call out your moves as you went to hit the ball

After getting back to the game you again realised that maybe this isn't as easy as you thought

Yes, one of you took front the other took back and yes that made it easier but you both forgot to call out your moves ending in each of you chasing after the ball or running into each other

Eventually, you got things worked and you were able to work well together resulting in a good game! And a fun time

After the game once it began to get dark, the couple invited you to a beach bonfire and roasting food for dinner. San let decide what you guys should do, he was fine either way!

Mingi:

Driving Through the City

It was about 10pm and you and Mingi were driving around the city, blaring the radio and dancing as well as singing along to all your favorite times

As you drive past buildings you point out special memories together. "That's where we went to watch that musical for your birthday" he pointed to a Broadway studio. "We used to get ice cream over there when you were stressed and needed an escape from work!" You pointed towards an ice cream joint two buildings down

This continues for a while as you turn down random streets and explore the city lights and the beauty of the nightlife after hours. Suddenly 'Photograph' by Nickelback (or any song you like about fond memories) plays and you both sing along, or really belt out, the song while holding hands and being very dramatic and extra with your little car performance

The windows were down and your hair was flying all over the place, the sunroof was open and the moon was shining perfectly onto your face it was a picture perfect moment straight out of a music video or movie

Until Mingi handed you his phone and asked him to take a picture of him at a red light. "Make me look sexy!" He joked loudly as you laughed and rolled your eyes taking pictures of him and treating him like he's your own model "oh right there, ah yes, perfect! That's the one, okay I see you!" You cheered and complimented him making him turn red

Handing him back his phone Mingi asked "do I look shmexy baby?" He went all geeky on you but you still told him he looks perfect before asking why he cares so much just for him to reply with

"I'm sending these to a hot girl!"

You were turn to him so slowly and smack his arm so hard it turned red in an instant. You kept hitting him a bit and yelling at him asking who this 'girl' is as he only screams 'ow' repeatedly

Soon your phone dings and you back away slowly, turning to look at your phone to see he sent all the pictures to you, with some random lettering from his hand slipping between you smacking him

"YOU! You're my hot lady/baby. My sexy girl/man!" He faked cried as he held his arm before the light turned green and he started driving again

You kept apologising and laughing awkwardly, to which he would only stick his tongue out at you and 'tsk' at you

Soon he pulled over to a cookie place on a not so well corner of a secluded street, you guys come here a lot. They have the best white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookies ever! And even better fudge chocolate cookies. Actually, all there cookies are bomb.

Getting out of the car and running over to Mingi you kiss up and down his sore arm as he opens the door and walks in after you

You guys order your cookies and grab some drinks before sitting on a staircase outside, Mingi makes you sit in his lap as your payback for the car incident. As you sit together he keeps begging for a bite of your cookie even though he ate all of his without sharing

You have to deal with his 'aaahhh's the whole time you eat, even if you did decide to share he would keep doing this with his mouth wide open like a baby bird

After eating, you walking up and down that one street hand in hand. Mingi usually runs ahead of you but with it being night time, he wanted to stay close by you in case something happened to you or someone came by

After your little walk y'all hop back into the car and finish up your drive home

Wooyoung:

Spa Day

You and Wooyoung decided to stay inside today

You made homemade face masks, that you are each currently wearing, you did foot soaks and you have him a massage as a way to relax him

Currently, Woo was laying on the floor on his tummy his legs crossed in the air as he hums and paints your toe nails his favorite color, black.

You were falling asleep on the sofa, laid back a towel in your hair that Wooyoung washed for you, your face mask on and cucumbers over your eyes. Your hands flat on top of news papers on either side of you, the polish on your finger nails still needing time to properly dry.

Wooyoung began to sing acapella softly belting out and singing one of your favorite songs as you lay there relaxed

After he finished painting your nails he set the heels of your feet up onto a fluffy cushion to give you the utmost comfort

Next he took a bottle of lotion/cream and began rubbing it into your legs, slowly massaging the lotion from your ankle and rolling it up your calves, behind your knee and back down again giving both of your legs a massage as he continued to sing

You whispered words of thanks that be smiled too and felt happy about

He moved onto your arms and shoulders after finishing your legs

After that you both washed your faces off and took silly pictures in the mirror before Wooyoung asked you to please do his eyebrows

YES: You hopped onto the sink counter, tweezers in your hand as you pulled your boyfriend closer to you. You began plucking away stray hairs and he began complaining about the pain while still asking you to keep going. You were as gentle as possible and finished soon

NO: If you don't feel comfortable with this you would simply explain to your boyfriend that his eyebrows are perfect and they don't need to be plucked or touched up.

Your Spa Day was full of relaxation and spending time with Wooyoung, win-win for you!

You end your day by cuddling together on the sofa/in bed and taking a nap together peacefully

Jongho:

Summer Festival

The two of you wore your flower crowns that you mafe each other at the last stall as you walked from stall to stall chucking out goods and participating in lots of activitred

They had an archery stall where if you won you got a teddy bear, it was really cute. A brown bear in a sunflower tutu wearing a sunflower crown

Another stall was for pottery, either making your own pot or you could buy someone else's

The booth next to that one was full of beads for making necklaces or bracelettes, there were a lot of tutorial sheets available to help out

Of course food stalls were located between booths - spread out of course but you did have options - from Indian food and some great Chicken Tikka or Tacos a few stalls down. A Korean stall offering tteokbokki and gimbap a little ways off, or you could eat at the food court on the other side of the festival

After visiting all the stalls that caught your eye, you and Jongho set up a blanket in the shade and sat down to play some card games and other games such as Mancala and whatever small game fit in his bag

After hours of playing games, maybe kicking a soccer ball back and forth, the concert finally began.

You guys turn to face the stage, your drinks in your hands as you lay together in the back away from everyone else

Mid concert you would stand up sort of wobbly and reach your hand out to Jongho, pulling him up and making him dance with you as you laugh with him side by side

You both had fun as you swirled in circle to the melody, waved your hands in the air and jumped up and down. The night was beyond perfect

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millennialfangirl · 4 years

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Take My Hand (take my whole life too) - a Daisy/Daniel post S7 oneshot

Fandom: Agents of Shield

Pairing: Daisy x Daniel

Rating: G

Word Count: 3033

Author’s Note: Here’s a little post season 7 oneshot. Just some ideas I had for how the series could end for our lovely ship. I’m sure the next episode it will get ‘Jossed’.

Take my hand (Take my whole life too)

Daisy found herself alone, sipping on the last of her champagne. Sounds of laughter fill the backyard where the small reception is taking place. She’s filled with happiness for May and Coulson, but as she stares across the patio, eyes lingering on Sousa as he plays with little Diana Fitz-Simmons, she can’t help but feel a deep well of sadness. May and Coulson have known each other for two decades, and they’ve just now settled down and committed to a life with one another. It makes her hurt for all the missteps and loneliness that her pseudo-parents took to get here.

It makes her hurt for herself, and the man she’s just starting to realize means more to her than she’s comfortable with.

The sliding of a chair brings her out of her melancholic reverie, and a warm hand settles on her shoulder. Without thinking, she leans her cheek on it as she continues to stare out across the party.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Coulson prods.

Taking in a deep breath, Daisy exhales her sigh. She doesn’t want to dampen his night, but she knows he won’t settle until she’s given him something.

“It took so long for you to get your happy ending.”

That’s all she says, and she thinks it’s enough to convey all the things she’s feeling.

Coulson follows her gaze, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on her shoulder. He has easily put two and two together over the past few months as he’s watched Daisy stumble and dance herself around Agent Sousa.

“You’re wondering if it’s worth it?”

She nods, a hand reaching up for his to pull it down with hers as she turns her body to face him. He’s so happy right now, which should be answer enough to her concerns. The burdened weight of years of sacrifice have lifted from his face and posture, replaced with soft laugh lines and warm eyes. A mist settles over her eyes when she remembers that she had lost him once upon a time before traveling to the past, and fixing that one wrong that cut deeper than all the others. He was flesh and bone once again, and he was happily married with a gold band on his finger. He’ll be able to grow old with May instead of having to watch her die one day.

“Happiness seems tenuous at best. Our life takes it away so often, why risk it after so many years of not getting to this place?”

“I get it, I do,” he admits. He takes a swig from his bottled beer and sets it back on the table. His fingers fiddle with the bottle wrapper as he gathers his thoughts.

“We took a long time, and yeah, sometimes I wished we hadn’t. I wish we’d figured things out sooner, but I have to believe that it gave us the foundation we need to make it last, that otherwise we would have started something we couldn’t finish.”

“You know more than anyone what I’ve lost. I know what you’ve lost. I don’t know if I can survive losing someone else.”

The smallest tear squeezes out as she admits her fears. Coulson wipes it away immediately, and then tucks a few stray hairs behind her ear.

“You can survive anything. You’ve always been capable of so much more than you know. It’s the very reason you deserve your own happiness. I know you’ll get it one day, because there’s no one that deserves it more than you...except maybe a displaced WWII veteran,” he pauses with a soft chuckle as he glances back at the dark-haired man shuffling a toddler around on his feet.

Mirth fills his eyes as he returns his gaze to Daisy, her face burning red while she pointedly stares at the ground.

“And when you do, you’ll know. The bones will be good, and the time will be right. Every couple is different. Your happy ending might be a lot closer than you think.”

Daisy scoffs.

“Nice. Subtle.”

Coulson gives her that dad look.

“People arrive, so we celebrate, and people leave us, so we grieve. We do what we can with the time in between,” he pauses and gives her a knowing look. “For a sentient chronicom, Enoch understood the crux of humanity. Life can’t be just the things we lose.”

“I’ll try to keep an open mind,” she begrudgingly acquiesces.

He looks mollified as he leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. She’s reminded of how lucky she is to have him back in her life, to have someone who cares enough about her wellbeing to have this conversation. As they sip their drinks under the night sky, she thinks back on their first night of freedom at the rundown motel after Hydra was exposed. Even then, with half of a chocolate bar, he was trying to take care of her. Not for the first time, she wonders what her life would have been like, and what choices she would have made if she had had a father figure like Coulson in her life all along. Would she have chosen people like Myles and Ward?

She does know that Daniel’s unlike anyone she’s met before, and she doesn’t just think it’s because he’s a man out of time. There’s a goodness and steadfastness that is woven through him like the suits he still insists on wearing. Somewhere in there is a joke about how girls fall in love with men like their fathers. There are a lot of differences between Daniel and Coulson. There are also a few similarities. Apparently Daniel is the original Agent Suit, and apparently he also likes to take care of her. After going through countless time loops that proved over and over the type of man Sousa is, she’s doing her best to accept the help, and maybe let down her defenses a little bit. But accepting help is one thing, and jumping heart first into a relationship is another. They’ve barely been able to catch their breath since defeating the chronicoms, much less have any time to see if their feelings were more than surface level.

A small wrapped box is placed in front of her on the table, bringing her out of her conflicting thoughts.

“I got something for the new Director. Something every Director of a super top-secret spy organization should have,” he finishes with a grin, looking so much like the adorable nerd he is.

“Um...this is your wedding day. I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to be the one giving you a gift.”

Coulson merely shrugs. Daisy starts pulling the string on the wrapping paper.

“It’s also the first day of my life as a civilian.”

She can’t help but laugh as the dark blue paper falls revealing a simple wooden box.

“I don’t think you’ll ever be just a civilian.”

Her wide grin drops from her face when she sees the familiar keys nestled in the now opened box. She looks up at Coulson with wide eyes, words of refusal already in her mouth.

“No, I--” but he doesn’t let her finish.

“Yes. It’s time to pass the torch. She deserves to keep going on adventures, not sit in my garage,” he insists, closing his hand over hers, folding the keys into her palm.

****

She watches as Coulson steps in, lifting Diana into his arms, swinging her around in a half waltz. Daniel laughs with his hands on his hips in mock anger. Daisy looks away before she gets caught staring, and instead looks to her phone for a distraction. She flips through her photo album, gazing at candids from the small ceremony. Eventually she lands on the infamous picture of Daniel in an alley from literal decades ago.

“Looks like I could use a new dance partner.”

In an instant her phone is fumbling out of her hands, falling hard on the patio underfoot. Her face burns red with embarrassment as her brain tries to catch up to what he said. She blindly reaches for the phone while looking up at him.

“Dance partner?”

And she wants to slap herself in the face for her lack of finesse.

Daniel leans down a bit, holding his hand out for her to take.

“Let me try that again. May I have this dance?”

And Daisy doesn’t think she’s ever felt a rush of butterflies quite like that before. No one has ever asked her to dance with them. There weren’t many school dances she actually went to, and all the boys she’s been with before...well dancing wasn’t their style, at least not the kind with soft music and romantic lighting. She’d had a lot of experience with thumping bass, dark rooms, and wandering hands.

She likes to pride herself on the growth she’s made, the woman she’s become. She wears her independence like a badge of honor, but in that moment staring at Sousa’s hand, she feels young and completely smitten.

Unprepared. Unprepared is what she is, but it can’t be that different from sparring, right? She’s nothing if not ready for a challenge.

Sousa takes the hand she places in his, and a large grin spreads across his face. It takes her breath away.

“I don’t exactly know how to do this,” she admits, embarrassed.

“Do what? Dance? No way.”

Daisy nervously places her hand on his shoulder like she’d seen in the movies, while their fingers spread and squeeze into a firm hold with each other. He feels solid under her touch.

“True story.”

“Well, we’ll just have to fix that. Just follow my feet. When I step back with one foot, follow it with your opposite. When I step to the side, just go with me. When I step forward, you step back.”

“So it is like fighting,” she mumbles mostly to herself.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing.”

And it’s not so bad after the first couple of awkward shuffles. Eventually they find a rhythm, and Daisy’s surprised to find she’s enjoying the moment. She stops staring at their feet long enough to relax and watch the people around them, her people. She’s lost in thought while staring at Mack and Yo-Yo swaying to the music, arms wrapped tightly together.

Sousa clears his throat. “It was a beautiful wedding.”

“Long overdue, and exactly what they deserve.”

“You really love them.”

“More than anything. They’re my family.”

“You’re lucky to have them. And they’re lucky to have you.”

“I’m so sorry, Sousa. You must feel so alone,” she responds guiltily.

“I don’t feel so alone. Not right now. It’s hard to feel alone when I’m dancing with a real-life superhero.”

“If I’m a superhero, it’s only because of people like you.”

“People like me?”

“People who save people like me, who follow us into the dark, and pull us back out. People who roll with the punches and have good hearts. Solid people.”

“If I didn’t know any better Director Johnson, I’d say you were still trying to sweet-talk me into the Co-Director position.”

“That works too.”

Sousa looks at her skeptically before Daisy continues.

“So, what do you say? Ready to accept the position?”

With that, he is distracted. He chews on his lip in thought.

“You know I want nothing more than to help you, help SHIELD...It’s just hard for me to imagine being that useful in the 21st century. I’m so behind on modern technology and culture. I worry that I’ll be more of a burden.”

Daisy’s hackles raise at his blatant disregard for his worth.

“You think you’d be a burden? You’re a brilliant detective and strategist. You’re the guy that figured out Hydra’s involvement in SHIELD before anyone else, and was willing to give his life to stop them. You’re the guy that saved me from Nathaniel Malick. You’re the guy who took every time loop in stride and helped me break that time loop. You’re the guy that I…”

Daisy stops herself mid-sentence, almost saying something that she can’t take back. Something she’s too afraid to voice. Sousa looks down at her, hanging on her every word as she pauses. She shakes her head as if to clear it of her runaway thoughts. She decides to go with a much more palatable truth.

“You’re the guy I trust to have my back,” she finishes with a gulp.

For a moment she thinks she’s gone too far. He’s staring at her intently like he’s trying to crack a code or needle an interrogation suspect. After what feels like an eternity, he finally speaks up.

“Well, Director Johnson, how can I say no to that vote of confidence.”

She releases a nervous laugh. “You can’t. That’s the point,” she says with a satisfied smile.

“No, I suppose not,” he says with a twinkle in his eye that she has become increasingly fond of.

They settle into a comfortable silence as a new song comes on. Neither one of them make to leave the makeshift dance floor, so they drift into the opening tunes of Elvis Presley’s “Can’t Help Falling In Love.”

It’s soft and whimsical, and Daisy can’t help but let her mind wander to the man in front of her. He makes her feel things she doesn’t remember feeling before, not even with Lincoln. She’s hyper aware of how perfectly their hands fit together, and the gentle touch of his fingers on her waist. She has to physically stop herself from leaning forward and resting her head on his shoulder, to seek out the comfort she remembers from the barn. She wonders if he would follow her lips willingly just like he had in the time loop.

She thinks he might always look like he stepped out of a classic, black and white, Hollywood film.

As if he can read her thoughts, he pulls her a little closer, their arms wrapping around each other a bit more than what’s expected of two colleagues or platonic friends, but not quite as intimate as Mack and Yo-yo. She can’t stop the next words out of her mouth, because they’re simply true and pure.

“This is nice.”

Because it is. It’s so nice, and she’s still struggling to accept that she deserves to feel something this good.

With a knowing smile, he hums in agreement before gently turning her out, guiding her into a slow spin. When she steps back into his arms, neither one hesitates in drawing in a bit closer. The world is spinning around them, but he’s her only focal point. His kind eyes with slight crinkles, the touch of gray around his temples, the mole just below his Adam’s apple...the softness of his lips.

“You look beautiful tonight.”

And if that doesn’t take her breath away. When was the last time someone called her beautiful? She’s heard plenty of other adjectives: strong, stubborn, leader...destroyer. She wants to be all those things, and beautiful too.

“Thank you,” she responds quietly, not quite capable of meeting his eyes.

Then he says her name softly, prompting her to look up. The way he says, “Daisy,” instead of Agent Johnson, the way he’s asking for the answer to a question he doesn’t even know...she’s sure she knows the question.

It probably sounds a lot like, “Why does this feel so right? Why do your arms feel like home? Would it be alright if I kissed you?”

And her answer would be, “Because your favorite people are people like me. Because you’ve held me close before. Please, kiss me again.”

She never told him about the time loops. She never wanted to take away his free will. But right now she’s ready to tell him everything. She’s ready for a kiss that can never be erased.

An alarm starts blaring from her wristwatch, and the two of them jump apart. She can see several other members of their team all stop what they’re doing and look to their phones and smartwatches.

Daisy knows the night is over and duty calls. She’s surprised the whole wedding wasn’t interrupted, but she can’t help but feel angry nonetheless.

“Want to catch a ride with me?” she asks the suddenly sullen looking man out of time.

His face lights up with a smile, and he gestures to her to walk in front of him.

“After you, Director.”

She can feel his eyes on her as they make their way to the tables where she picks up the keys to Lola along with her belongings. It doesn’t feel like he’s leering. It feels protective and comforting, just like someone who’s got her back.

Coulson hugs her tightly, and May wishes them luck as they head out to chase down their next mission. It should feel sad, leaving them behind, but it somehow feels right. They’re her family. They’ll always be there for her, but now it’s time for her to lead, and she has one hell of a right hand to help her out.

As they make their way to the parked car, red and shiny in the moonlight, Sousa can’t help but ask, “What’s an 0-8-4?”

He must have taken a moment to read the alert sent to his phone.

“It’s an object of unknown origin. Probably alien. Think you can handle it?” she asks, and she can’t help but feel a thrill of excitement for the unknown.

“I’ve traveled 70 years into the future, I don’t think much will surprise me now.”

At that, she laughs out loud as she slides into the car.

“You might be right. Alright, last chance. Sure you want in?”

“Positive. I’m where I need to be.”

The way he looks into her eyes when he says it lets her know he means so much more than just the next mission.

“That’s good to hear. Now buckle up, I just might surprise you now.”

“I’m counting on it,” he says with an excited grin.

Daisy can feel his stare, even as they rise above the trees, Lola taking flight. Without looking at him, she takes his hand in her own.

If her cheeks turn red and her heart beats harder, well at least Coulson’s not there to notice it.

#daisy x daniel #dousy #daisysous #daisy x sousa #agents of shield #aos #dousy fic #my fic #daisy johnson #daniel sousa #phil coulson x lola

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caltropspress · 3 years

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FEEDBACK LOOP #4: Armand Hammer & The Alchemist’s “God’s Feet”

As a child I introverted and drew pictures while my mother prayed to Jesus reading King James scriptures.

—Ras Kass, “The Evil That Men Do”

The dark and evil passions of his soul, His secret plot, and sordidness complete, His hate, his purposing…

—George Marion McClellan, “The Feet of Judas”

Bury the Bible at my feet, A testament at my head. If my dear father should call for me, Tell him that I am dead.

—Nelstone’s Hawaiians, “Fatal Flower Garden”

1. James Joyce apostatized from his Catholic faith but continued to dig it for its rituals. That was an aspect to it he could tolerate and utilize for his art, as if his indoctrinated mind could fully renounce it if he wanted to. ELUCID’s first raps were recorded in a church—hallowed ground for some; narthex reverb, and nothing else, for him. Organized religion is “totally manufactured…a tool of control,” he’s said. Still, he concedes “the Bible is a beautiful book…if you remove the spirituality.” He renders its rolling paper pages into something worth uttering. Smell the burning coals and incense.

2. “Blow that horn fast, we been read’ to go. When that horn blast, the dead is coming home.”

woods sings first, but ELUCID’s singing voice, to paraphrase Jupiter Hammon, is a penitential cry. I turn the radio knob to 89.9 FM on Sunday mornings when I go for groceries in Passaic. WKCR’s Amazing Grace plays raw gospel, which is what ELUCID emulates here: where the more hideous the voice gets, the holier the expression becomes.

The song structure is raw and unblunted, too. The refrain cuts for 80 seconds before a single verse, like Bashō in its brevity, staggers us. The Alchemist and Earl Sweatshirt co-production is muted: soft keys and Mark tree accents. They leave space to let God in.

3. White is not a color!

In Franco Rosso’s Babylon, the titular Babylon is—among much mayhem—the cops with the no-knock warrant—the abhorrent clampdown on the sound-system. The guns of Brixton need blazing (or at least a knife to the gut, courtesy of Brinsley Forde). “Racial tension” is only a euphemism for murderous oppression.

4. And upon her forehead was a name written, Mystery, Babylon The Great, The Mother Of Harlots And Abominations Of The Earth. (Revelation 17:5, KJV)

When Mississippi John Hurt sings “Make Me a Pallet on the Floor,” he’s humbling himself—subordinating for the sake of adulterous love. The pallet is on the floor, and it’s soft and low. The sinful sweet-talk, he knows, signals risk: shoot, cut, stab. There’s no tellin’ what she might do. But the Book of Revelation offers an Armageddon glimpse of what she’s capable of. When accounting for behavior, though, who’s really the whore?

5. “So the story goes…”

The pallet is full of pestilence and plague—of lice, roaches, scourges. It doubles as a coffin, or a cooling board. Son House sang of his love “laying on the cooling board” on “Death Letter Blues.” The pain of “her Judgment Day” seemed to rack him, and the “10,000 people…standin’ around the burying ground” felt it, too.

In Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men, the stable buck Crooks—the sole Black man on the ranch—associates only with the horses he tends to. Crooks’ bunk is a “long box filled with straw, on which his blankets were flung.” He’s segregated from the other workers, surrounded by harnesses and the sound of halter chains. Crooks, whose nickname carries the weight of criminality, “reduce[s] himself to nothing” when a white woman apocalyptically threatens him with a lynching.

6. For the great day of his wrath is come; and who shall be able to stand? (Revelation 6:17, KJV)

Milton William Cooper’s Behold a Pale Horse is, of course, a blessing and a bane. A dog-eared and spine-cracked hood classic on 125th in Harlem. But Wise Intelligent has recognized the limits of it. In its hip-hop adoption, the failures and shortcomings show through. Like on 2000’s “Horsementality,” where Kurupt barks a litany of adverbs including “ultramagnetically,” and it’s on “We Are the Horsemen” that Ced Gee looks beyond God to complain “the universe bothers [him].” You’ve got Canibus’ needlessly excessive 666 wordplay and Kool Keith’s “gamma data” and “galactic horse” super-scientifical madness. ELUCID, though, deals in the concrete, disregards the conspiratorial. He “find[s] the spirit getting lifted,” in a decidedly non-Keith Murray manner. When he beholds the white horse that comes forth conquering, we’re reminded of his anticolonialism, not black helicopters and chemtrails.

7. “In the blink of an eye, the faithful go where they are made whole. / …the dead coming home, prepare a table... / Leave your freshest linens.”

God’ll have you feeling welcome, invited, only to leave you to the cops for violating the Sabbath. He’ll roll up on you like, Wilt thou be made whole? (John 5:6, KJV). Like, Motherfucker, do I look like I want your help? He’ll convince you your disability deserves a miracle, crap on crip culture, and then chastise you about “sin” while he spits ableist fictions.

8. “Singing murder ballads. / Looking for a body.”

Harry Allen, in his eccentric and alchemical liner notes for the Anthology of American Folk Music, pens a summative headline for “Fatal Flower Garden”: “GAUDY WOMAN LURES CHILD FROM PLAYFELLOWS; STABS HIM AS VICTIM DICTATES MESSAGE TO PARENTS.”

There’s a foreboding to, arguably, every Armand Hammer recording—an educated guess, or a warning. (Aw shit!—you got a red dot on your head, too.) The mood is pervasive, like lily-white hands in murder ballads. One can find comfort in this consistency. It’s a proven fact ELUCID is up on that folk tradition shit: He hammers out danger. He hammers out a warning. What the song does is make the killing, the revolution, irresistible.

9. For he must reign, till he hath put all enemies under his feet. (1 Corinthians 15:25, KJV)

What do God’s feet do exactly?

Does He still keep His Timbs on? Does He pirouette spin in a pair of Timbs? Is it haram to show the sole of your shoe?

If you read Corinthians, the feat of God’s feet suggests a more Old Testament-style HIB violator—a brutal and vengeful supreme being on the bully pulpit letting you know what’s what. Or maybe it’s not so wrathful. Maybe God’s feet are just a power move—the aggrandizement of the Godhead at the expense of the masses: “The heaven is my throne, and the earth is my footstool” (Isaiah 66:1, KJV). We’re used to getting stepped on. The back alley boot stomp. We mortify our flesh, self-flagellate. And we keep coming back for more. But why? “God’s Feet” speaks of a return, but it’s more a recidivism.

Images:

The Siege and Destruction of Jerusalem (detail), by David Roberts (1850) | Screenshot from Franco Rosso’s Babylon (1980) | Mississippi John Hurt, Folk Songs And Blues cover art (detail), Piedmont Records (1963) | [Dr. Richard Burr, an embalming surgeon in the Army of the James demonstrating the procedure on a dead soldier] between 1860 and 1865 | Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (detail), Viktor Vasnetsov (1887) | The Crucifixion, panel from the Isenheim altarpiece (detail), Matthias Grünwald (1515) | Anthology of American Folk Music liner notes (detail), ed. Harry Smith (1952) | Screenshot from Franco Rosso’s Babylon (1980)

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lord-explosion-baku · 5 years

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“Just Friends”

Midoriya x reader

Warnings: smut, kinda dub-conny, swearing, possessive behavior

A/N: Midoriya is an angel/ Best Boy and all that but that doesn’t always translate over to the bedroom... or the photo booth... everyone is aged up (18+) also SO SORRY I HAVENT BEEN POSTING AS MUCH!!! I’ve been fighting sickness and I’ve been so low on energy that writing has been pretty tough lately huehuehue. And now I’m sick again because my body hates me but WE’RE fine!!

Amusement parks were the best. They were even better when you could enjoy them with probably one of your best friends, Izuku Midoriya. The two of you spent the day going on different rides, with you clinging on to his arm and giving out gleeful screams when the roller coaster would drop, laughing about how terrible you were at the games and blushing when Izuku would effortlessly win you a prize. You shared a frozen dessert with him and you made fun of him when he got ice cream on his nose which led to him booping you on your own nose with the cone. You had to ignore the nervous flutter in your stomach you got when he licked the cream off your nose. There was no need to be nervous around him. He was your sweetheart of a friend and the day was going wonderfully. Until it wasn’t.

The two of you were shouting and laughing while you ran away from some clowns that were trying to show you some horrendous trick. Neither of you were scared of clowns but it was exciting to pretend that you were.

Your adrenaline became you and you let out a squeal when you saw a pal from middle school, Sugaya, strolling by with people you didn’t recognize.

“Well, look who it is!” You sprinted at him, giving him a wide smile before throwing your arms around the young silver haired man. “Sugaya! I’ve missed you!”

“Y/N L/N?!” He accepted your hug, twirling you around in doing so. “Oh my god, look at you!”

The two of you shared a moment of wild bewilderment while you were vibrating slightly because of how excited you were from the day’s events and slightly because you had no output for your adrenaline. He searched your face for any indication of change since middle school before he smiled and said, “wow,” and his hands slipped down to your waist. Izuku cleared his throat and Sugaya finally took note of your company. You weren’t sure but you thought you saw Izuku’s eyes narrow on Sugaya’s hand on your hip.

You hopped back to Izuku’s side. “‘Zuku this is Sousuke Sugaya, a friend I haven’t seen in like three and a half years!”

Sugaya held out his hand. “Zuku?”

Izuku took it. “Midoriya,” he flatly replied. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sugayou.”

“It’s, uh, Sugaya,” he laughed, “and the pleasure’s all mine!”

An elongated pause was spent with you looking back and forth at your friends, trying to understand the strange tension you felt between them. Awkward silences were not your forté especially around people that you actually knew. You spoke up.

“Sugaya and I had homeroom together every year in middle school! He’d always pick on me!”

“Aha! I knew you were gonna bring that up!” He gave your shoulder a push and Izuku took a weird, oddly territorial step closer to you so the back of your shoulder brushed against his. “I only acted that way because I had a crush on you! I liked the way your face would scrunch up when you got mad.”

“Yeah well I didn’t! You were kinda mean sometimes!”

“You’re right. ‘M sorry about that,” he pushed his hands into his pockets then looked to Izuku. “But I won’t be so mean to you now that you’ve got a boyfriend. He’s a lucky guy, huh?”

Izuku made a choking noise and you looked up to see his face was as red as a beat. You thought it was incredibly adorable but if you let Sugaya make a play at him, he’d probably end up taking it too far.

You looped an arm through Izuku’s. “Nooo,” You chirped sheepishly. “Midoriya’s just a friend,” you smiled up at him. “He’s my cutie pie!”

Izuku returned your gaze with a small closed mouth smile back, his eyes unreadable.

Sugaya gave you a once over that made you feel a tad self conscious. You had thought it might’ve been a bad idea to wear a skirt while you’d be walking around all day but you did want to look and feel cute, in case you or Izuku wanted to take pictures but now you were feeling a tad bit over exposed.

“Noted,” Sugaya smirked. “Hey, we were all about to go on Extreme Scream but I’ve already been on it. Maybe we can get a bite to eat and, I don’t know, catch up?”

Yikes, like alone?? Izuku shifted uncomfortably beside you. This was supposed to be your guys’ escape. It was hard enough getting a time to hang out with each other alone on any regular day and you didn’t want that to be spoiled with Sugaya’s presence. You shook your head. “Midoriya and I already ate lunch. Maybe some other time, ‘Gaya! But it was so good to see you! We’ll meet up again soon though, okay?”

With that, you took Izuku’s hand and pranced away, looking for anything to distract you from that odd encounter. Seeing anyone from your middle school was always a little wild but the fact that Sousuke Sugaya might’ve been hitting on you a little bit made you feel super jittery, although, that could’ve just been residual adrenaline from all the rides you had been on.

Izuku’s mood changed after the encounter too. He didn’t laugh like he did earlier when you made lame attempts at winning rigged games, he didn’t seem at all interested in getting on any more rides, and he didn’t even crack a smile when you mimed a mime!

If you were being honest, he was getting to be a bit of a drag but you figured that everyone got in those moods every once in awhile but you weren’t going to give up on making this day a day to remember! In a last ditch effort at getting Izuku to be interested in something, anything, before you had to ask what his deal was, you pointed to a photo booth planted to the side of a not so popular ride and asked if he wanted to take a picture.

He pursed his lips before a wry smile crept across his face. “Yeah,” he said, “I’d like that.”

The two of you slipped in together, shielding yourselves off from the outside world by a heavy turquoise curtain

“You better not be all pouty when we take these pictures.” You adjusted your hair in the camera’s reflection, smiling to yourself. At least then he’d know that his mood change was obvious.

“What?” Izuku pulled an arm around you. “You don’t think it’s cute when I’m pouty?”

You scoffed. Was that what all of this was about? You looked up and into his leering emerald eyes and parted his hair in the best way for the picture. “You’re a cutie pie at all hours of the day, Izuku Midoriya.”

“Uh-huh…” The countdown for the photo sounded and you turned back to the camera, throwing a peace sign up but Izuku did not look away from your face. Your face heated up from the attention… if he was trying to make you nervous for whatever reason then mission accomplished.

Your smile was a tad bit forced when the first flash went off and when Izuku cupped your face, it disappeared completely. The second flash went off when Izuku licked his lips and your cheeks burned in the palm of his hand. He leaned into you and you didn’t lean away, cautious to see what exactly the boy was going to do but strangely curious to see if you really wanted this to go where you thought it was going. The third flash went off when you closed your eyes.

Skin met skin, rather, his lips locked on to yours and you thought your head was going to burst into flames when the final flash ended your photoset. It took a moment for you to collect yourself and kiss him back which only invited him to drag his scorching hot tongue across your bottom lip and you invited it, parting your lips slightly so you could taste him. A swirl of strawberries and cream, much like the dessert the two of you shared earlier, enveloped your mouth which only made you needy to taste it again.

Triumphant, Izuku grinned into the kiss and pulled away, a string of saliva connecting your lips. You covered your mouth and he laughed. “So,” he said, “was that cute?”

“Um…” you could use about a hundred words to describe what that was and ‘cute’ would probably only be fortieth on your list, “y-yeah…?”

Izuku clicked his tongue and looked down and away from you, pink dusting over his freckles cheeks. “That’s too bad…”

You didn’t know what to do or how to react. Sure, you were attracted to him in an odd way but you’d never expect him to act so… confidently towards you. It was different than the Izuku Midoriya you grew to love and you weren’t sure what that meant. After racking your brain for far too long you finally stood up, dusted your skirt off, and lifted your arm to the curtain.

Before you could pull it open, Izuku grabbed your wrist. “Ah,” he pulled you back and pushed you up against the side of the photo booth. “I just have a few things I’d like to get off my chest. I hope you don’t mind.”

You couldn’t think of any real conversation you could have with him while your face was flushed and the only thing that was on his chest was literally your chest. Still, you let out a shaky breath and asked “w-what is it?”

“Well,” he smirked, wrapping a strand of your hair around his fingers, “you told that old friend of yours who so shamelessly made a move on you in front of me that we’re,” he paused, looking from your lips and back into your eyes, “just friends.”

You gulped when he moved his lips over to your ear. “See, Y/N, I don’t really think of us in that way and I was sorta hoping you felt the same.” Something wet brushed up against the shell of your ear and you shuddered. “Do you really think there’s not more going on here?”

“‘Zuku,” you sighed, bringing your arms around his neck, “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings,” you grinned, “but there’s no point in throwing a tantrum over it.”

He grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks between his large hand. “You can’t keep acting so coy forever, pet. Sooner or later you might end up pissing the wrong person off.”

His lips found yours again and although Izuku was taller than you, you never really considered him all that big until he had you cornered in that photo booth. You gripped onto his muscular arms as he wedged his knee in between your thighs, kissing you territorially, running his hands down your sides, pulling you body closer to his so you could feel his hardening groin against your pelvic bone. He brushed your hair to the side and trailed kisses from your jaw down to your neck, licking a long wet stripe along your crook before his lips started to suck at a particularly sensitive area.

“Izuku,” You whined, “you’re gonna leave a mark!”

He lapped at your skin and snickered, “that’s kinda the point.” He bit down on you more furiously, making you toss your head back while you grabbed a fist full of his green hair, tugging softly as a light moan drew out from your lips.

His hands slipped from your sides to the hem of your skirt, tugging and testing the elasticity of it. He fidgeted with the two front buttons but you swiftly slapped his hands away, eyes wide. “Izuku!”

“What?” He tilted his head almost innocently, his heavy curls falling to the side of his face. “You wanna keep these on?”

You nodded and watched his brows knit together as he mocked your nod. “That’s completely fine,” he said, pushing his hand up your skirt. He tugged your panties to the side and before you could even think of reacting, two fingers plunged into your core.

“Ohh,” You yipped, almost falling forward before Izuku pushed you back, smirking as his fingers curled into you. “Ohh my god…!”

Your body shook as you felt you skin heat up, looking anywhere besides Izuku’s face. You felt embarrassed to be so turned on by his surprising dominant side and you didn’t want him to know how good he was making you feel but when his fingers found you G-spot, you couldn’t help but let out a whiny moan.

“Awww,” he cooed, placing kisses down your chest, pulling the buttons on your blouse apart one at a time. His thumb rubbed at your clit and you felt like you could melt for him right then and there. “Y/N, you look so cute with my fingers fucking your pussy.”

Who knew Izuku Midoriya could be such a devil?! You never thought that Izuku could utter a single demeaning phrase to you, let alone make it sound so hot and it was hard to admit that it only made you want him more. Not wanting him to have the upper hand you shot your own hands to his belt and in a few moments his pants were on the floor and your jaw nearly followed them.

Izuku Midoriya was bigger in more ways than you had expected him to be. Staring at his constricted bulge, you didn’t know what you should do about it.

He pulled his fingers out of you, relishing the sound of your slick against his skin before grinning at your perplexed expression. “You don’t think we’re getting ahead of ourselves?”

You licked your lips and found his half lidded eyes, drunk off the fantasy of what exactly he wanted to do with you in this photo booth. You shook your head and let your panties fall to the floor.

Izuku lifted you up as if it were all too easy, using the wall to level your back as he pulled his boxers down. His cock sprang out and you felt yourself shake with anticipation as his head slid up and down your core. You wrapped your legs around him and took in a sharp breath when his cock pushed into you, staying motionless while he stared at you blushing back at him. He brushed your hair back and gave your lips a sweet peck.

“I’m going to ruin our friendship,” he breathed and your heart nearly sunk before he pulled himself back and slid into you again. “Do you understand?”

He began grooving into you at a nearly charitable pace, allowing you to familiarize yourself with his length. You grabbed onto his arms and squeezed them tighter with every time he’d push himself into you and once you had got a feel for him, once you started sighing and rolling your hips with him, he quickened his pace, grunting as he inched himself further into you.

He grabbed the back of your head and pushed you into another hungry kiss and when he slammed himself into you, you whimpered and bit down on his bottom lip. He laughed and and raked his nails across your skin, drawing out a loud pent up moan from deep inside your throat.

His fingers crept into your mouth as he hushed you. “You better quiet down, pet. We wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea about you and I.” He thrusted himself deeper into you and another pathetic mewl tore out of your throat, drool sliding off your tongue and onto his fingers. “What’s that, Y/N? You wanna admit that we’re more than just friends?”

You panted as he rocked into you, pulling you by your hips so he could get a steady rhythm going. You kissed him, less like it was your first time and more like it would be your last time, clawing at his back, wanting to hear him groan. Unsatisfied with his lack of response you nuzzled your lips into the crook of his neck and bit down hard, giving him a taste of his own medicine.

He let out his own pained moan as you sucked at his skin which only coaxed him to drill harder into you, bouncing you up and down against the cold photo booth wall.

His hand found your neck. “You’re being a bit naughty, huh?” He squeezed, while he found the perfect soft spot above your breast to suck on, wanting to win at the ‘who-will-be-more-marked-up game.

“Fuck,” you squeezed your eyes shut when you felt a burning coil build up in your stomach. “Oh, god, ‘Zuku, I’m ~aaaha~ I’m so close!”

“Is that right?” He said through his own labored breathing. He sucked on his index finger before trailing it down to your sensitive nub and began rubbing it, making your hair stand up on your skin.

You pussy clenched around his cock and you dug your nails into his back, crying out when an ecstatic wave shot out through you, causing your legs to shake more than before.

Izuku chased your orgasm by placing you down on the seat and spreading your legs wide open for him. He fucked you relentlessly, brutally squeezing your thighs, watching you fall apart for him. He loved you like that, underneath him, eyes wide, face red, and with you letting out more over stimulated and nervous moans, he’d completely lost himself, seizing forward, letting out a heavy load into your throbbing cunt.

The two of you breathed together before Izuku pulled himself out of you and fell to his knees, bathing your thighs in his sweat. He kissed your legs and pulled your skirt down, pulling you by your unbuttoned blouse into a messy kiss.

You heard gleeful screaming outside and realized where you were: in an amusement park, in a very public place. You reached down to grab your underwear but Izuku snatched those up before you could get them.

He chuckled at your disheveled display, pulling his pants back up and pocketed your panties. “Why don’t you sit here for awhile. Think about what just happened.” He leveled his head with yours. “Come out when you’re ready to understand that I’m more than just a cutie pie.”

He gave your cheek a soft pat, spread the photo booth curtains out, and disappeared.

You rubbed at the spot on your neck where Izuku left his first hickey, trying furiously to make sense of that whole situation. You buttoned your blouse back up and thought about all the times that something like this could’ve happened between you and Izuku in a less spur of the moment matter. It made sense. You did have feelings for Midoriya. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have let all of that happen. And he… obviously had feelings for you. ‘I’m going to ruin our friendship.’ God, just thinking about him saying that made your skin tingle; moreover, thinking about his cum just sitting in you gave you a hot flash. If you got up, surely some of it would seep out! You needed your underwear!

Minutes passed and you finally wobbled out of the photo booth only to find Izuku, holding two rolls of cotton candy, standing next Sugaya.

“There she is!” Izuku beamed, holding out the cotton floof for you. “I was just apologizing to Sugaya for acting so standoffish earlier. Low blood sugar and all that!”

“Oh?” You bit into the sugary cloud as Izuku wrapped an arm around your waist. You squeezed your thighs shut, trying to ignore liquid leaking out of you in front of your old friend.

“Yeah and I was just saying that some friends and I are gonna go over to one of their places for a kickback! I wanted to know if you guys wanted to tag along.”

Izuku squeezed your shoulder, as if to say, not in this lifetime. You cleared your throat. “Not tonight. Midoriya and I are, uhh, having a really great… date. I don’t think we’re at all ready to leave.”

Sugaya frowned, eyes flicking from your hickey to Izuku’s. “That’s a shame,” he said. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

When Sugaya left, Izuku grinned and quirked an eyebrow at you. “A date?”

“Izuku!” You hissed, pinching his side. “I need my underwear!”

“Oh, you’ll get them back,” he hummed, “but you’re gonna have to earn them. Tell me, what are other mischievous things do you think we can get away with on our date?”

Though you had come to terms with your feelings for Izuku, though you enjoyed spending time with him, and though you really could see yourself in a relationship with him, there was something else you had to come to terms with: as sweet and adorable as he was, Izuku Midoriya was a bit of a sadist.

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#bnha x reader #bnha reader insert #reader insert #jealous midoriya #midoriya x reader #jealous!Midoriya x reader #deku x reader #bnha imagine #bnha smut #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku is naughty #tw dubcon

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mattzerella-sticks · 4 years

Text

Four of Swords

Destiel, 7.1k, M, Ao3 link

Super happy I can finally share what me and my amazing partner, @maleyah-givemetomorrow, cooked up for the @supernaturaltropecelebration

Hope you all enjoy! (story below, but if you go to ao3 there’ll be pretty pictures - I definintely recommend viewing them and showing love to the artist!)

The Four of Swords, in the present position, means you don't want to interact with the rest of the world. Because of stress, you need to spend some time with yourself - unhealthy always being 'on'. That the healthiest thing to do is to escape.

Dean might crave escape, but it's not something he thinks he can have. Something he deserves, even. After his and Sam's most recent hunt, this cancerous feeling has grown heavy and weighs him down. He cannot escape on his own, as best he tries.

Luckily a guardian 'former angel' angel swoops in at his lowest. Helps pick up the pieces as best he can and lovingly put them back together. But he can only do so much. The rest is up to Dean.

Can Dean take those final steps, say those final words, and finally free himself?

His leg bounces, foot playing with the pedal while forcing the speedometer past its limits. Fingers squeeze the wheel tight enough he knows will leave permanent indents in the leather. Dean feels, more acutely than ever, how small his car’s interior is. Her cabin walls closing in around like the Death Star’s trash compacter. Aided by Sam’s ever-present stare, weighted by all the questions Dean will not let him ask. Forbade with a shake of his head and a rough flick of the ignition.

The sun creeps past the horizon, morning rudely greeting them. Beams of light pierce the glass, its glare interfering with his driving. Dean swings a heavy paw up towards the visor and pulls down, hard. It blocks most of the sun but gives Dean a worse distraction.

His gaze strays from the road to the tiny mirror embedded within the visor. Bounces around the borders of his face, studying the features and additions. Green eyes burdened with purplish bags. Dirt smudged around his hairline, disappearing into his short, mussed locks. Scratches peppered his cheeks like freckles, and the dried blood around his lips looks almost comical. Like he overlined them with an ugly shade of lipstick, clownlike and surreal.

“You’re drifting.”

Sam tugs the wheel closer, straightening their car. Dean wills back the discomfort of having Sam’s hand covering his. Of the memory, hours ago, where their layered hands held different context. Pushing. Praying. Reaching for a spark of Dean that nearly drowned and was lost forever. He shakes his head, focusing on the road again. “Thanks,” he says once his brother’s hand drifted away.

They reach the Bunker minutes later, Dean parking between the green Hudson and silver Chrysler. Both collecting dust. Dean checks his phone – 8:34 a.m. 3 missed calls, 8 unanswered texts. He swipes for the message thread, not reading any of the grey bubbles and typing a simple message. Back. Then Dean drops it in an empty cupholder and lays his head on the wheel.

Exhaustion drips along his bones like slime, filling the spaces between joints. His muscles broadcast their pain in full stereo, working in tandem with his brain. Each twinge a reminder of what happened. What he did and what he almost became.

Someone howls. It is far, but familiar. It sounds like – home? Belonging? Right? More noise, this time closer. Snarling. Snarling and growling. His jaw shudders and bends, reforming. A fire crackles under his skin, urging him forward. Follow the call. Follow the scent. Smell that, hear that, it is all so… pure. Free. You are free. Trust your instincts.

“Fuck,” he hisses. Dean presses his dirty nails into his palms, a reminder of their usual bluntness. Definitely not sharp enough to pierce the skin. He can’t hurt anyone else with them. “Fuck…”

Sam shifts at his side, hovering. Worrying. “Dean –“

“Not now, Sammy,” he says. Dean sucks in a large breath, fixing his armor. Raises his head off the steering wheel, staring out the window. “I’m not ready, not yet.” He wasn’t ready when they watched the barn disappear behind them, burning, smoke drifting into the starless night. When they stopped at the motel so Sam could collect their stuff while Dean idled in the parking lot. When Sam exploded halfway between Denver and Cheyenne, drool wet on his chin, and still unprepared when he apologized minutes later.

He didn’t deserve his damned forgiveness.

“Just…” Dean breathes, shivering, “go.”

The car door opens and shuts with soft clicks. Dean watches his brother stumble over half-asleep legs to the exit, Sam’s gait heavy and awkward. He pauses under the archway. His head tilts slowly right, and Dean tears his eyes from the rearview mirror. Dean counts the beats of his heart, waiting. After thirty he checks the rearview and Sam is gone.

Flinging himself out the car, Dean falls on hands and knees while his stomach revolts. He coughs, splutters, and heaves with all the force he can muster. There’s not a lot in his stomach but it surges up, splattering against the floor. Mixes with the blood and dirty already staining his fingers. His nausea passes the crest and recedes, body nearly purged. He spits into the bile, running his tongue over the waxy film coating his teeth. Gross, but not enough. The taste lingers.

Right there. Follow the fear, the rapid breathing – babumbabumbabumbabum. There is sweetness in victory, in the thrill of chasing. No escape, only death. Screams cut short when you tear through the throat. Chestnut fur matted with blood, goes down smooth. Delicious. Filling.

Dean winces at the mess. “Not cleaning that up,” he says, “at least not now.” With his remaining strength, Dean drags his body up. Leans on his car for a moment, then walks away with the door still open and with bags in the trunk. He cannot remember if he left the key in the ignition, nor does he care if he did.

There are more pressing matters that need attending.

He wanders with intention, drifting past rows of doors until he reaches the shower room. Dean turns, slowing to a shuffle and then a full stop once halfway inside. Head bowed, he focuses on the contrast between his mud-caked boots and the pristine tiles ruined by his intrusion. Squints and sees a twig lodged in the loop of his lace. Looks closer and sees a small pawprint left immortalized on the material.

In one bite the head tears completely off, blood spurting up from the severed neck. Sprays his face while he chews. Dean smiles, teeth catching the droplets and licking them clean off. He greedily stuffs the rest of its small body into his mouth, then licks his hands. Uncurling from the forest floor, he continues on. There is a call he needs to answer.

Dean hears the twig snap while clawing at the laces. He throws his left boot to the side, followed by his right. Peels his socks off and does the same. The second round of dizziness descends as the cool floor coaxes a more measured response from him. Sighing, Dean closes his eyes and continues stripping.

Even blind, Dean knows what he throws away. A yellow plaid button-down ripped across the back. Brown t-shirt crusty with dried blood all over the front. Jeans camouflaged in various stains, held up by a belt that worked in saving him from succumbing. And underwear that, while clean, were rather unwanted in the moment.

Goosepimples rise along the blades of his shoulders, rushing up his neck and over his back. Dean shakes, crosses his arms and tucks his chin against his chest. “Come on,” he says, bouncing on his feet, “In and out… you’ll feel much better.” He steps forward and then returns to where he was. “You’ll feel better and clean and – and like yourself again.”

“This is who you were truly meant to be…” His voice purrs, sparks firing off pleasurably in his brain. A rough tongue licks up his neck, and Dean nuzzles the hand petting his cheek. “Who we were always meant to be… give into your instincts, my pet. Give into yourself…”

“Dean what are – oh! I’m sorry!” He whips around and finds Cas standing in the doorway. Hands squeezing the towel, eyes trained upwards and not ahead like they must have been moments ago. The blush on his cheeks clueing him in. “I thought, when you said you were home, you’d be in bed…”

Dean rakes his gaze over the other man’s body. At the scruff in serious need of shaving, unkempt along his jaw and overrunning his neck. The oversized t-shirt, tie-dyed in various shades of oranges, reds, and yellows. A graphic from a Led Zeppelin album ironed on from a collection Dean found at a garage sale, given over because the angel reminded him of Cas. His shirt’s hem overhangs and covers half of the shorts he wears, hairy calves fully on display.

A year into humanity and Dean marvels at how he stays so heavenly.

“No,” he says, “don’t feel much like sleeping…” Then Dean drifts his focus away from the other man and back to the shower stalls. Empty and waiting. In a few seconds he could wash the entirety of yesterday into the drains, dirtied water swirling at his feet. Scrape any trace of the wildness with soap and scalding, hot water. Keep at it, until the knot in his chest unraveled finally.

Dean stiffens. Someone brushed his arm. Cas squeezes, whispering, “Are you going to shower?”

He nods. Steps forward, and again. And collapses at the mouth of the shower, scrabbling for the curtain and ripping it from the rod. Dean gasps, the harsh sound echoing in the room, and curls in on himself. The cheap plastic crinkles and sticks to his skin, blanketing his thighs. One of the metal rings completely tore and now digs into his stomach. Cas calls for him, but his voice is distant.

“We can start anew once your transformation is complete. I can hear it inside you, Dean. There’s a killer in there waiting to be unchained. Let me free you from the prison society forced you in, allow your true self to roam, empowered in its glory and righteousness. You’ll be my right hand in my new pack. All that’s left, is for you to break the final lock…”

“Dean, Dean I need you to say something,” Cas presses a warm hand into his back, kneading the clammy skin. “Please… I know not to hope for anything good but at least tell me you’re here, with me.”

“I’m here,” he murmurs, “I’m… I’m here.” More of a reminder than an answer. Dean blinks, leaving the acrid stench of death for faint, lemon cleanser. Shadows and dim lighting for humming fluorescents. False promises for strong foundations. “I’m here,” Dean says again, sliding his hand from the curtains to Cas’s, the other hanging at his side. Squeezes at his wrist. “Thanks.”

“It’s no problem,” Cas huffs, sizing Dean up. He shrinks under his gaze, conscious of how he must look. “Do you want to –“

“No.”

Cas nods, as if expecting it. “You want to clean yourself up?” Dean shrugs. He clucks, fingers skimming his hairline on a wide rub. “Look as if you’ve glued yourself to the underside of your car and had Sam drive across any backroads he found.” The joke inspires Dean’s dimples to appear, and Cas’s overly proud smile forces a small chuckle. “Are you able to stand?”

“I think I can manage…” Dean winces, the plastic shower curtain peeling off him. Cas keeps his face steady, not even a flicker of interest in peeking as it falls, when Dean exposes himself. A superficial wound. Fortunately Cas’s hand on his back and the other, now holding his, stay and help him up. He wobbles on shaky legs but won’t fail. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Cas tells him, thumb tickling his pulse point, “do you want me to give you privacy?”

He swallows his tongue. Or rather, something living inside his throat snatches it and prevents him from speaking. Dean glances at the shower, dread crawling forth once more. The scant space between him and the handle stretches, vision tunneling. He wants nothing more, if only the thought of it didn’t paralyze him. Cas murmurs at his side. “What?” he chokes out.

“I might have an idea,” Cas says, “that is… if you’re okay with me seeing you like… like this?”

Dean raises a wry brow. “Does it matter?” he asks, “You already have.”

“Just being polite…” Cas moves away from him, Dean following for a beat until he stops himself. The other man looks to the door, than at him. He scoops his forgotten towel, dumped on the floor at some point in the past few minutes, and offers it to him. “Here.”

“Like I said, Cas –“

“I know,” he interrupts, “but I doubt you want to walk the halls like that, where at any point Sam could stumble on you and… assume.” A hell of an assumption. Favorable too, he thinks. Dean blushes and bites his lip. He accepts the towel, lazily wrapping it around his waist. Not bothering to tuck it, holding it with his hands so they wouldn’t hang without purpose. Cas finally dips his gaze towards his crotch and relaxes. “Okay,” he says, “follow me.”

They leave the shower room, Dean practically hitting Cas’s heels with how closely he trails the other man. Enough that he could swing his arm and accidentally brush his hip. He won’t, though the possibility is tempting.

It’s not a far enough walk for that.

Cas turns the corner and leads Dean to the second door on the right. “I found this awhile back, early on in our stay here and carried it to this room one day when you were out.” He opens it for him, gesturing inside with a lackluster flourish. “Glad I did, don’t know how I would have managed without my angel strength.”

Dean steps inside, searching. There is not much waiting for him. Smaller than most rooms, he can imagine it being a closet with ease. Spots the tiny holes where screws must have been. Hidden in the outlines of where shelves once were. “Didn’t know you were handy.”

“I learn fast.”

“I’ll say,” Dean says, “plumbing’s a bitch to do.” He smirks at the large, stainless steel faucet. There’s another outline underneath against the wall that marks where a sink used to be. Removed so the porcelain, clawfoot tub can rest. “You take baths?”

“When I can,” Cas tells him, “I find it very healing. Even when I could mend broken bones and turn jagged cuts into flawless, smooth skin with my grace, I found myself drifting here every now and then, sitting for a soak.”

Dean taps at the rim of the bathtub, pouting. “And you brought me here, thinking I want to…” He doesn’t finish, instead studying the other man. Watches how the innocent question rocks the boat of his good intentions. Cas pouts, folds his arms and scuffs his toe on the floor. Dean softens, “Thank you.”

“…You’re welcome,” he shifts, turning his back, “Now, do you want to get in? I find that when you twist the handle on the right, the water is warmer.”

He waits. Panic rises, thinking Cas might leave. Worse that he can’t find it in him to ask that he stay. But then Cas settles, staring at the closed door. Dean smiles and starts the faucet.

When the bathtub is halfway full Dean climbs in. His knees poke from up out of the water, too tall to stretch his legs. He slides in further, so the water laps at his chin and more leg is on display. Already it fogs over, a filmy layer swirling on the surface. Dean cups some of the water and splashes it on his face, all too aware of much red drips. “I’m as decent as I can be,” he calls, splashing.

Cas sighs. “How does it feel?”

“S’nice,” he shrugs, “Not that I get to do this often but…” Dean sees Cas walk over, grabbing at a nearby bucket. “What are you doing?”

“Helping,” Cas says, dropping the bucket. He kneels, presenting a washcloth and a soap bar he must have pulled from below.

“Aw, no Cas,” Dean starts, sliding into a low crouch. Braced on the edges of the bathtub. “You don’t have to –“

“Please, Dean,” Cas whispers. Two fingers rest over his knuckles, feather light and barely there. “Let me do this for you… after what you must have gone through…”

Dean will not break his staring contest with his navel, sure that if he glanced in Cas’s direction another episode like the one in the shower room will happen. “Fine,” he mutters, plopping back into the tub and spraying Cas with a few errant drops. “If you want, go right ahead.” His arms encircle his knees, stricken expression hidden. Sitting in the center of the bathtub, Dean never felt so small.

Cas carries on wordlessly. Runs the soap under the faucet before turning it off. It’s filled to about a few inches from the rim, any sudden movement able to cause a good spill. Which is why Cas talks him through the steps. Like a skittish animal, provoked at the tiniest snap of a twig or rustling leaves.

Defenseless. Unaware. Fattening itself for the lucky prey that happens across it. His lips peel back for his teeth to appear, spit dripping from them. His fingers lead him forward, nails glinting when the moonlight breaks through the foliage and hits them. One clumsy step and what sounds like a gunshot echoes in his ears. It stops. Then it sprints off. So does he, a fraction of a second later. The chase begun. He huffs, he smiles, he growls. Hungry.

Dean hisses when the cloth rubs over a badly healed wound, reopening it. “Sorry,” Cas says, dabbing the spot again and pouring some water from a cupped hand over the skin. “I didn’t see – I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Cas.” He offers a wobbly smile, shrugging. “It’s okay.”

Cas grimaces, Dean staring on the thin, chapped line. Better than blue spotlights running across his face. Soon his lips smooth into something more neutral, and Cas resets.

He focuses on how the washcloth feels, Cas lathering soap across him. Doesn’t fight when he grabs Dean’s arm and holds it up, running the fabric over and leaving soap bubbles in its track. There’s a jagged cut slashed across his knuckles from a misplaced lunge. Cas, prepared, gently dabs at it. His hold is firm and touch careful.

Too careful. Too caring. The special treatment makes his skin crawl. Dean winces again as Cas drags the washcloth along his shoulder blades and onto his other arm. “Sensitive?” Cas asks, because he notices. Add too observant, too. “Days like these make me miss my powers.”

Dean snorts, “So you could fly on out of here without any problems?” That escapes easier than he would like. He curses under breath, sneaking a peek at Cas. Like Dean expected, Cas’s expression makes his heart sink into his stomach. “Shit, sorry…”

“I don’t need wings to ‘fly on out of here’,” he says, “if I wanted, I could get on a plane tomorrow.” Cas finishes lathering his arm and soaps his chest. Rubs the washcloth over and over his tattoo. Its ink vibrating erratically because of his words, the possibility, and Cas’s closeness “The operative term being wanted. What I want right now is… well, I want you to not feel any pain.”

But he should. It’s all he should feel. Dean deserves the pain. For yesterday, what he almost did. For now, what he callously said to Cas. For years and years of causing so much hurt and enjoying it and taking pride in it. He should drown in all this pain. Instead he has an angel bathing him in kindness.

He tries every day to be better than his darkest moment. When he and Cas stared across at each other, fully ruptured. Dean throwing more dynamite into the divide until the ground crumbled beneath their feet and the landscape of their relationship was unrecognizable. After Purgatory he made a promise. His pain should remain with him, not forced into the hands of others.

Some days they wriggle, others they slip. Dean tries every day. If only every day, he succeeded.

Cas washes his face, leaning half over the tub so there’s barely a breath of space between them. A simple turn and their noses brush together. He cannot do more than breath, sharp puffs out his mouth. Sometimes muffled when Cas wipes at the dried blood marking the skin around it.

It’s too much.

“I almost killed Sam.” Cas pauses, frozen at the corner of Dean’s lips. Some of the soap drips into his mouth, and he can taste it. “Yesterday, on the hunt I… I almost killed him.”

His brain steams ahead, thinking how Cas might wish for the plane ticket now that he knows. Imagines him dropping the washcloth into his hands and leaving without a word. Again, wiping his hands of Dean’s garbage and climbing out the hole before any more shovels in to bury him.

Instead Cas runs his fingers through Dean’s hair, smiling. “Tell me what happened.”

His walls crumble immediately. Dean savors the touch while he begins his story. Cas already knew the beginning – driving into a town beset by murders, where killers left heartless bodies for the police. Rolled in with the script memorized, asking all the right questions. Found the pack’s den and attacked. “We said we got all of them,” Dean sighs, ducking his head, “but that wasn’t the whole truth.”

The leader escaped. They only realized it when counting the bodies, battle too confusing that losing track of one werewolf in a dozen was unavoidable. Risky in their line of work, but a quick perimeter search kicked up no trace of him. Dean and Sam closed the case, driving off to the motel and licking their wounds.

“I was careless, or… or I don’t know, didn’t think much of it but…” Dean holds his arm up and looks at it. There’s no mark on the skin, but he traces the bite from memory. “Got me when I wasn’t looking. By the time I knew what was happening it was like I… like something had come over me. I heard howling and I tore off after it. Sam coming back to an empty motel room with a broken lock.”

If he stays too long in his memories, he will lose himself in them again. Racing through the woods with newfound agility and grace. Jumping, launching himself over fallen trees and boulders. What it felt like ripping apart the first woodland creature he crossed paths with. The soapy taste in his mouth turns sour.

“The leader was crazy… had this whole philosophy that I believed because he said it and all I could think was how much I trusted him. Thinking was too difficult while all fanged out and slobbering and – and so when he said to trust my ‘instincts’ I… I bared my neck. His instincts were my instincts. By that point Sammy snuck in, and – well protect is a pretty strong instinct.”

Sam plead, rallying all his strength so Dean’s claws wouldn’t eviscerate him. Dean straddled his brother, raging. Spat on him while gnawing for his neck. The last werewolf cheering Dean on. “Free yourself of your human burdens and join me in total freedom!” he sang, “Eat of his heart and you will be mine forever!”

“You don’t want this Dean,” Sam said, struggling. The syringe nearby looking damaged but not completely broken. “I know you. Fight him!”

Dean growled, “Want… want free… want blood!”

Sam sneered, tightening his grip on Dean’s wrists. He shifted and kicked Dean off. Dean flipped, landing on his back. They both scrambled upright, not wasting any time. With misguided fury Dean pounced for Sam, his brother twisting at the right second. Their fight continued in that fashion. Sam dodging Dean’s attacks, the latter growing more frustrated and sloppier.

Exactly what Sam planned.

Dean dove and smacked into a wall, knocking the breath from him. Stunned, Sam dove for his belt and slipped it over some exposed pipe. Not knowing any better, lost within the wolf, Dean struggled helplessly until brute strength won.

By the time Dean ripped the pipe from the wall Sam killed his sire. Injected Dean with the cure when he scurried towards the corpse and mourned. When all traces of his bite left Dean’s system, he mourned again. Sam standing overhead, watching, unable to lay a hand on his shoulder lest Dean bite at it in his familiar defensiveness.

“So Sam is fine?”

He bristles at the placid tone. Unbothered. Like Dean mentioned some off-hand piece of gossip that he happened across while scrolling through his phone. “Yeah,” Dean says harshly, “but I… I almost did him in. Nearly ate his heart before skipping off with some werewolf Charles Manson to start another werewolf cult and...”

Cas raises a brow. “And?”

Processing the events aloud help him realize how wildly he overreacted. How Sam clearly held no anger towards him for being on the menu. How there’s no reason for the inky sadness clinging to his heart and soul that makes him feel bad.

Except it’s there, and having no reason makes it even worse.

“And…” he fumbles, “And I think I’m getting too old for this.” Dean huffs, sinking against the bathtub while Cas continues petting him. “I’ve been doing this for what? Nearly forty years? That was how it’s going to end… Because I let that werewolf creep bite me and nearly turn me into his slave? Kind of makes everything I said about free will look like I pulled it from my ass.”

Cas chuckles, laying the washcloth on the porcelain rim. He pulls back, laying both arms along the edge and resting on it. Smirking, “No one will call you a hypocrite because you were under the influence of a werewolf bite.”

“Yeah, but…” Dean sighs, “I’m supposed to be better than this.”

“If I’ve learned anything from my time on Earth – from you – is that sometimes we have our off days,” Cas says, “We have to forgive ourselves for them.”

“Maybe if I tripped and scratched Baby’s paint or-or took a risk on some leftovers I don’t remember, sure,” he scoffs, “but when it comes to hunts… an off day can easily become my last day. Hunters don’t get off days. Heroes don’t… don’t…” He digs his nails into his knee, willing away the waterfall hovering around the edges of his eyes.

“Well, as true as that is, the fact you were able to see the sun rise means yesterday definitely wasn’t your last day.” The faint traces of humor in his tone barely lifts the corners of Dean’s mouth. Cas sighs. A few droplets splashing at Dean’s exposed leg, his hand now gently splashing the water. “I stand by what I said. Yes, you could’ve been more observant during your battle. And more conscious of your injuries. Then neither you nor Sam would still carry what should have been a simple hunt on your shoulders.” Mentioning it makes his shoulders sag further. “But then again, I could be beating myself for staying here watching Netflix while you and Sam got your hands dirty –“

“You kidding, Cas?” Dean bursts in, brows furrowed, “The Hell should you feel bad for?”

“A third set of eyes could’ve seen the werewolf escape – or stop him before he did… make sure you were checked over for serious injuries…” His fingers circle lazily, Cas’s mouth tugged down in a way that unsettles Dean’s stomach.

Dean sits straighter, glaring at the other man. “You needed the rest, Cas. After that ghoul tore your back up something fierce in Missoula? Even if you knew you could do something, I’d still have kept you –“ The tirade cuts short, Cas’s prideful smirk stealing the words from him. He sinks into the water, so low that water hides his burning cheeks. Adjusts by fully removing his legs from the bathtub, bracing his feet on the wall. Faucet between them.

Cas chuckles, rustling Dean’s hair. “See. Hindsight is only good for the future, to learn from our mistakes. Time is better spent in the present. Accepting that you did the best you could and… glad there are people who care about you, who will do anything to see you feel better.”

Dean looks up at Cas, the overhead bulb shining. Mimicking the effect of a halo. He lifts his chin enough to free his mouth. “I don’t know how you can put up with my stubborn ass.” I don’t know why I deserve you.

“I recall you calling my ass stubborn many times.” I don’t deserve you.

They always end up circling the drain. Never quite going in, a piece of hair clogging the passage. Right now, with Cas petting Dean’s hair and gazing into his eyes, Dean exposed under him in more ways than one, it cannot get any more tender. It’s still not enough.

At the top of the peak, you can only go off. They never jump.

Dean knew his reasons. When it felt like they could, there was never enough time. Something more pressing to deal with, a battle to fight. Always promising that when the moment was right, Dean would do something. But then when those moments came Dean and Cas were never there for them. Kept apart by circumstance, by death, by each other. Compelling. Dramatic. Completely frustrating.

But then Chuck vanished, he and Amara – light and darkness, creation and destruction – becoming one. Becoming entirely new. Blinked off into somewhere that Dean doesn’t care knowing about. As long as, on their way out, they cut the strings hanging over their heads.

It seemed like it. Life went on, as normal. Monsters needed hunting and beer needed drinking. Except there wasn’t anything more.

Hell stayed relatively calm with Rowena reorganizing it. Jack, seated on the throne of Heaven, brought a righteous humanity in his leadership. Even Billie took a holiday.

When the dust settled, Dean was ready for Cas to be on his way, too. One was offered.

“Are you sure?” Jack asked, eyes still aglow. Hand raised inches from Cas’s bloodied head. “I can give it all back to you. Give you more… you’d be the most powerful angel in my new Heaven. You can help me make it even better than it was.”

“Thank you, but… I think it’s time you left the nest, Jack,” Cas smiled, stepping back from him. “Heaven is in capable hands because they’re yours… I… we trust that you can do this without us.”

Jack nodded, light snuffed. He dove into Cas’s arms, then, hugging him. Then Sam, and finally Dean. “I’ll visit when I can,” he promised, trying not to cry.

Dean coughed, swiping a finger under his eye. “Soon!” he barked, “I don’t want to see you when I’m eighty!” Their laughter was bittersweet. Fully bitter when Jack disappeared with a flap.

Sam scuffed the ground, turning. “So,” he said, “what do we do now?” He scanned the area, Dean tracking the same space alongside him. At the scorched earth, barely recognizable from when they arrived. Green drained away and left lifeless, with a few serious scorch marks in certain areas. Like the one near a cracked mausoleum, where Chuck threw Cas. Where he held him by the neck and spit serious venom. Where he drained the little angel grace he had left and made him human again.

Cas clears his throat, drawing their attention. “After a shower and a change of clothes,” he said, “I think some sort of celebration. At home.”

Dean’s heart skipped over itself. “Home,” he repeated, “Yeah, I like that.”

Cas chose and chose again, and his choice never wavered. It was Earth. It was humanity. It was him, and it was home.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Cas asks, frowning, “what are you thinking?”

Dean rises somewhat. “I love you.” He would rather he weren’t naked, nor shaken from a hunt. And a forgotten supply closet with a dirty bathtub in it is hardly the number one place for a confession. But waiting for perfection screwed him over so many times.

“Oh,” Cas relaxes against the bathtub, sinking his hand back into the water, “is that all?”

Or maybe he should have kept waiting. Dean pouts, “I love you.”

“I know. You’re repeating yourself.”

“No, like…” he drags a wet hand over his face, “I love you. Like, I love you love you.”

Cas chuckles, light and carefree. Lines around his eyes crinkling in delight. “I know, Dean. I know.”

Dean gapes, chin slapping the surface of his bath. “You have?” Spurred into action by Cas’s growing laughter, Dean sinks his legs into the tub and sits up again. “For real?” The other man nods. “How long?”

Cas shrugs, “Awhile.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Joy retreats from Cas’s expression, leaving him somewhat guarded. He breaks with Dean’s stare. His hand glides through water and finds Dean’s leg. Strokes it. “I thought nothing needed to be said.”

Dean raises a brow, clicking his tongue. “So you were happy with…”

“I was content.”

He frowns, courage leaping up inside his chest and banishing the lingering traces of sadness and self-pity clinging inside his chest. “Well, I wasn’t,” Dean says. Waits for Cas to look at him again. “Do you know how many times we sat together and I wanted to hold your hand, but didn’t? Roll over on my bed and wake up next to you only to remember that you were down the hall? Sit in a diner and-and when the waitress came by I could say, ‘I’ll have this and my boyfriend will have that’ but was only able to order for myself? I won’t even mention the amount of times I wanted to kiss you because at this point I’ve lost count…”

Cas squeezes Dean’s thigh, lips stretched wide in a tight grin. “You want all of that?”

“And more. A hell of a lot more.”

“Then… late is better than never, I suppose.”

Dean blinks, “What?”

He resumes stroking his leg, smiling so openly all his teeth are on display. “I’m saying,” he continues, “that if you want to do all that, I find myself being… amenable. We can even start now.”

“Are you sure?” Dean asks, too experienced with his luck that he knows he needs more. “Is this what you want? You said you were –“

“Content,” he says, “But not happy. Doing all of what you described – and more – will make me very happy.”

Dean smiles, “Really?”

“Ecstatic.” It’s so deadpan, so blasé, and completely incongruent with the mood of the room that Dean cannot stop the snort escaping from his lips. Followed by hiccupped giggles and, finally, laughter that echoes in the tiny space. Joined by Cas, their voices swell to fill the room. Until Dean snatches Cas’s collar with his wet fist and drags him in for a kiss. Closes his eyes and savors the taste of the other man, taking note of every sensation he guessed right and scribbling over what he got wrong with the parts he never could have imagined.

In the midst of their makeout session, when Cas presses their foreheads together and laughs about not needing a shower after all. Because Dean hauled him into the bathtub with him despite protests, water leaking onto the floor. When he can, without guilt, lose himself in Cas’s eyes, Dean remembers the werewolf from yesterday. Remembers what he thought freedom meant, and how the monster hadn’t the first clue what it actually was.

Freedom is not power. Freedom is being yourself. Freedom is the ability to show others the deepest parts of yourself and have them stay and love you for it. Freedom is acceptance.

Freedom is the way Cas’s fingers scratch at the nape of his neck. Freedom is Cas pressing lazy kisses against his cheek. Freedom is the way their feet knock into each other on the edge of the porcelain bathtub.

Dean, for the first time in his life, feels free.

Epilogue:

Midnight is a terrible hour to crave bacon. Time cannot stop Dean’s watering mouth or his growling stomach. He disentangled himself from Cas and blindly pieced together an outfit that, in the hallway’s clinical lighting, included his cowboy pajama bottoms, Cas’s dried shirt, and his robe. Dean shrugs and carries on his way towards the kitchen, hoping for a quick trip.

Seeing Sam hunched over at the table crushes that idea. He perks up at Dean’s entrance, faltering. Rises for a second before thinking better, instead fiddling with his coffee mug. “Dean.”

“…Sam.” Unsure, Dean’s own hands run rampant. Closes the robe and hides Cas’s shirt, tying a neat, little bow and securing it tighter. Then he unravels it and lets the robe swing open like curtains. “What’re you doing up?”

He shrugs. “Couldn’t sleep anymore. You?”

“Hungry.” Dean winces, the image of Sam struggling underneath him flashing into view. It fades almost as instantly as it arrived, replaced with a more annoyed looking brother. Mouth pulled taut like a bowstring, aimed and ready. Dean glances at the mug for safety. “You make enough for the class?”

“Check the pot.”

Shuffling over he sees more than enough coffee inside for him. So, he pulls out two mugs and prepares them. Three teaspoons of sugar in one, four tablespoons in the other. A dash of milk on the left, because Cas thinks it muddies the taste of the coffee. “Thanks.”

“Dean…”

His tone draws a quiet sigh from Dean. Settles the hunger that dominated his stomach and replaces it with a slight nausea. “Sam,” he says, “can you not…”

“We need to talk about it,” Sam continues, “Please, Dean, I –“

“We will.”

Sam pauses, stunned. Dean turns around and tamps down the laugh bubbling up. Hard given how rare Sam’s jaw drops so far. In the blink of an eye Sam shakes his surprise off. “What?”

“We will,” Dean repeats, leaning on the counter, “I promise. I just… I’m not ready, yet.”

It’s not the best answer. Sam doubts him, evident by the gleam in his eye. And the follow up, “Are you ever gonna be ready?”

His eyes never strayed from Dean’s face. If he dropped his gaze a few inches Sam would see Cas’s shirt. But he didn’t. Dean can rewrap the robe and pretend it’s not on him.

Except Dean hadn’t the urge. Instead he draws attention to it, rubbing the hem between his fingers. “Hopefully soon… Cas and I had a good talk and – and well, maybe in the morning I might be okay enough that we can sit and talk about it, or whatever…”

Sam finally looks at his shirt. Then at Dean with a subtle awe. He braces for an onslaught of feelings, exactly what Dean tried avoiding. Why he thought using Cas as a distraction from talking about those was a moment of delirium. Dean sips at his mug, hiding ruddy cheeks behind the rim.

Thankfully Sam says nothing. Instead mirroring his sip. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

Dean nods, drumming his fingers on the counter. There’s kindness in how Sam offers the escape tunnel, even though so much is brewing under the surface. A rarity that Dean never expected. He should take it.

But there’s more. Dean figures ripping the band-aid off all at once is better than peeling it and feeling every single hair torn from his arm.

“I think I’m gonna stop hunting,” he says. Sam spits a mouthful of coffee into his mug, choking. “For a while,” Dean quickly explains, “Like, maybe a few months?”

Coughing, Sam wipes at his lips. “Is this because of the werewolf hunt?”

“Yes?” Dean says, “No – I mean… Look, it’s not because I’m too scared to get back into the game because of what happened but I am kind of… skittish?” He frowns, staring at the light brown pool in his hands. “Like I’m running on empty and… and I don’t think I have enough in the tank. That’s what happened yesterday, but thank God there was a little more in yours to get me to the next rest stop! Who knows what might happen on the next one so I… I’m making the adult decision and taking myself out of the game before the big loss.” Dean gulps at his coffee, throat suddenly dry. “But not forever,” he adds, “Long enough to sort things out… do the stuff we said we were gonna do when the Chuck mess ended. Maybe go on a road trip or, ah… give Cas a proper first date –“

“First date?” Sam croaks, a tiny snort escaping, “Think you two’ve past that by a few years. Third honeymoon, maybe.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Yuck it up… but I’m not the only one who can use this opportunity to focus on important things… things that you’ve been neglecting… when’s the last time you and Eileen had any quality time together?” Sam answers with a blush. “Thought so… at least I’ve had two honeymoons, or so you think.”

“Shut up,” Sam huffs, drinking his coffee again. His gaze drifts from Dean over to the door, and the fluster drains off his face. Replaced with a more gleeful expression, lips curling. “Hey Cas,” he sings, “how’s it going?”

Dean accepts all the awkward energy Sam shed. His grip on the coffee mug falters when he sees Cas. Dressed in a stolen pair of sweatpants and nothing else. “Sam, Dean,” he yawns, shuffling closer. Cas squints at the untouched mug on the counter, “Is this for me?”

“Yeah,” Dean says, handing it over, “just the way you like.” Cas purrs, kissing Dean’s cheek before sipping. Sam's chuckles accompany his approval. “It wasn’t too much of a problem…”

“So, Cas,” Sam starts, “what got you out of bed?”

Cas scratches his head and presses against Dean. Slides an arm around Dean’s waist. “Pee,” he says, “and then I noticed Dean wasn’t there so…” If Cas didn’t drive the point home clear enough Dean would worry after his brother’s intelligence. He feels Cas’s chin rest on his shoulder. “Why did you get up?”

Dean gestures at the stove. “Hungry.”

“Hmm… I can eat.” Cas taps on Dean’s stomach, pushing off. He moves and joins Sam at the table. “Whatever you were going to make yourself, make double?”

“Triple?” Sam adds, “All this talk of food is making me hungry.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Dean flicks the stove on, dropping the pan on the active burner. His hunger returned, aided by the easy conversation flowing between the three. Cas settles across from Sam asking a question about something he read. The conversation quickly devolves into nerd speak, Dean throwing quips in every few seconds.

He lays a strip of bacon down, and then another one. And another one. Greases a second pan and cracks an egg on the surface, tossing one half of the shell at Sam and the next half at Cas. They retaliate by pelting him when he retreats to the refrigerator for more bacon. Dean doesn’t care that they hit, nor that he steps on one and has to spend time between the eggs frying and the bacon cooking to pick pieces of eggshell off his heel. What he cares about sits giggling at the table, watching while he cleans.

Dean is happy.

#supernatural #spn #supernatural trope celebration 2020 #destiel #destiel fic #deancas #deancas fic #dean winchester #castiel

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quickspinner · 4 years

Text

Finding Harmony - Ch 4 Getting Closer

Luka gave Marinette a few days of space, and then showed up outside of the school and took Juleka, Rose, and Marinette out for ice cream after classes one day. The girls were a little stiff with one another at first, but Luka teased them enough that they all ganged up on him for revenge, and it was worth the ice cream smeared on his face to see them all relaxed with each other again. Marinette’s horrified reaction when he showed her the picture of his disassembled guitar had him cackling every time he thought of it for the rest of the day.

“How can you laugh? It’s your guitar, it’s in pieces!” she cried.

“Because I know it’ll come together again,” he said, chuckling. “And it’ll sound even better than before.”

“Ignore him,” Juleka muttered, looping her arm through Marinette’s and tossing her hair. “He likes to make people think he’s deep and cool but he’s really totally lame.”

“He’s a sweetheart,” Marinette said with a fondness that made his heart skip. “But yeah, he is pretty silly sometimes,” she teased, looking back over their shoulders at him.

He must have been giving her some kind of soft look, because she turned back quickly with reddening cheeks. Rose giggled, nudging Luka with her elbow before jogging up to grab Juleka’s free hand. He felt a comforting warmth in his stomach as he looked at the three of them. He’d had a gentle talk with Juleka, nothing invasive or confrontational, just warning her that Marinette felt alone and ignored right now, and reminding her how Marinette had stood by her when Juleka felt that way—reminded her also that Marinette was planning this whole design and photoshoot to make up for something that hadn’t been her fault in the first place. Luka still didn’t know the details of what had happened at the school, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t want to pry or interfere in Juleka’s life. He just hoped that if Juleka refocused on the truth of who her friend was, on Marinette’s heart, then whatever other craziness was going on would roll past them.

Despite the ice cream outing, it felt like he hadn’t seen her in forever when she finally called him back for a fitting.

“You know,” Luka called over the screen as he pulled his jeans back on, “I could just come over when Juleka does, it’s not that hard for us to coordinate.”

“No, I don’t want you to see each other until the shoot!” Marinette called back.

Luka rolled his eyes, though she couldn’t see him. “Why? I’m her brother, not her date.”

“I know, but it matters to Juleka what you think, and she’ll be able to tell if you like it or not. It’ll give her a confidence boost right before the photo shoot.”

“That’s admirable, Marinette,” Luka sighed as he came around the partition, “But its not worth burning yourself out over. You have so many responsibilities as it is.”

“I’m not,” Marinette protested. “I mean, yes, I do have a lot of responsibilities—more all the time, it seems like—but that’s not the same as this. This is me doing something I love for people I care about. It’s not draining, it’s energizing! Really, if you both came at the same time then one of you would just be standing around waiting half the time anyway. It’s more fun like this.” She carefully laid the pants she had just finished marking and pinning on the desk, and then turned back to him. “Okay, that’s all I needed for my stuff. Let’s go upstairs and I’ll see if I can finish yours before you leave.”

The body of Luka’s guitar, stripped and sanded and lacquered with a base coat of black, with the space for the pick guard carefully taped off, was securely strapped to an easel on Marinette’s balcony, since she had (reasonably) refused to paint on the swaying deck of the Liberty, and the smell of the paint would have been overwhelming in her small room. She wouldn’t let him see the work in progress, but he was happy to park himself in a lounge chair and play his mother’s guitar while Marinette worked on his. She’d had it for a few days now and it was almost finished.

Luka had to admit, watching Marinette work was one of his favorite things ever. Not only was her concentrating face super cute, she became so focused that she forgot the self-consciousness that was the root of most of her awkwardness. Despite all her initial protestations and “are you really really sure you want me to do this,” now that she was into the task, she was confident, capable, and captivating. It made him wonder about the woman she would grow into one day, once she left the drama and awkwardness of her teenage years behind.

Without his realizing it, the tune he played slid into something warm and low and a little wanting. Thankfully she was too engrossed in her work to realize how closely he watched her, and he caught himself before anyone else did. Face heating, Luka set the guitar aside and stood up.

The absence of the music made Marinette look up. “Just need to move for a minute,” he told her, stretching his back and then his fingers. “How’s it going?”

“Almost done I think,” Marinette said, surveying her work thoughtfully. “Just a few more details to go. I don’t want to overdo it.” She waved him off when he tried to get a look. “None of that, it’s so close now you might as well wait. I hope you like it,” she fretted, a little uncertainty returning. “Maybe we should have done a kittycorn design instead…”

“Marinette, I love Kitty Section, but this is for me, not for the band, and the design is perfect. I know I’m going to love it. Do you need anything? I could go get us something to drink.” As he moved around her toward the hatch, he paused and frowned, stepping back closer to her. “The back of your neck is turning red.”

“Oh, I should have thought of that,” Marinette groaned, reaching back with paint smeared fingers. Luka caught her wrist. “Don’t, you’ll get paint in your hair. Hang on, I always have some sunscreen.” He went to his guitar case and pulled out a battered tube tucked into an outer pocket. “With the sun on the water I’m pretty much always covered with the stuff.”

“That’s why you always smell like the beach,” Marinette muttered, studying her work.

“Well, I do live on the river.”

Marinette snorted. “We both know the Seine doesn’t smell anything like a beach.”

Luka chuckled. “Fair point. Do you mind if I put this on you?”

Marinette blushed, but didn’t have much of a choice since her own hands were both flecked with paint. “Please.”

“Sorry, my hands are kind of rough,” he muttered as he dabbed the cream carefully along the back of her neck between her pigtails. “Does it hurt?”

“No, I didn’t even notice.”

“Good, hopefully we got it before it got bad enough to cause you a problem.” He couldn’t resist leaning around her slightly and adding, “Should I do your face too? You look a little pink.”

“Now you’re teasing me,” she grumbled, turning a little pinker. “But you probably actually should.” She turned toward him and lifted her face. “Go ahead.”

Luka smiled to himself a little ruefully when she called his bluff, but his hand was steady as he dabbed the sunscreen on her little nose and smoothed it over her cheeks with his thumb. The slow smile she gave him didn’t help his composure. “Now who’s pink?” she giggled, and he grinned back.

“You got me. You’re just too cute, Marinette.” Luka actually caught himself leaning in toward her and stepped back quickly. He really wanted to kiss her and the way she looked at him made him think maybe she wanted to kiss him too, which was not helping his self-control. Luka took a deep breath and turned away, settling back in the lounge chair and picking up Anarka’s guitar. He launched into the most complicated riff he could think of, as Marinette turned back to her painting.

The charged moment ebbed away and they lapsed back into their comfortable camaraderie as Luka played, and Marinette painted. “Do you think you’ll finish today?” he asked, glancing at the sinking sun. “It’s fine if you need to keep it another day.”

“I’m done,” she announced.

“You’re done? I can look?” Luka hopped to his feet, and Marinette stepped back and waved him toward the easel.

The blue striped snake with its red head and tail slithered up the side of the guitar, following the curves, against its background of white blossoms, the centers just tinged with pink. It fit the body of the guitar beautifully and the colors popped against the black. “I put a little more blue in the snake just so it wouldn’t blend too much with the black,” Marinette said thoughtfully as she wiped her hands. “I think it worked.”

Luka put his arms around Marinette and lifted her off the ground. She yelped and giggled. “I love it, Marinette, it’s amazing. You’re amazing.” He put her down and bent to kiss her cheek, but she turned her head and every nerve in his body lit up at once when he felt her soft lips under his, her fingers tangling in his shirt to keep him there. His hands moved on instinct while his brain was still locked up, flattening against her back to pull her closer. Luka’s eyes fluttered shut as they both shifted slightly, lips sliding across each other until they fit together perfectly. It only lasted a moment before Marinette gasped against his lips, and pulled away, clearly realizing what she’d done.

He stared at her, trying to put himself back together, and her eyes widened with horror and she covered her mouth with her hand. “Luka, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking—I mean, I wasn’t thinking, it’s just, you were so close and you’re really cute and I—I do really like you but I didn’t mean to—”

Luka held up a hand between them to stop her, but it was another moment before he felt composed enough to speak. “It’s okay, I understand. I wanted to kiss you too, so—the moment got away from us and that’s okay.” He took a deep breath, and tried to smile. “But let’s try not to let it happen too often, I don’t think my heart can take it.”

“Right,” she whispered, fingers still over her lips. “Sorry, Luka.”

“Don’t be, I liked it. It was a good kiss.” He winked at her and she giggled.

“It was,” she agreed, and then sobered. “But I shouldn’t have done it while my feelings are so messed up, and I’m sorry for that.”

“Forgiven,” he said simply, and turned back to his guitar. “I can’t wait to get this home.” He nudged her arm. “Sign it for me?”

“But—”

“Please.”

“What if I sign the back?”

“Marinette, sign your art for me, please.”

Reluctantly she chose a detail brush, and, after studying the design for a moment, delicately painted a small Marinette in the curve of a branch of blossoms.

“Now it’s perfect,” Luka grinned.

“What happens now?” Marinette asked.

“I need to put a clear coat on it and it’ll need to cure for a bit, and then I can finally put it back together and play.” He grinned. “So when people ask where I got my sick custom paint job, what should I tell them?”

Marinette shoved him lightly. “That it was a one-time deal because you’re my friend. Clothes are one thing but I don’t think I could do this too often, too stressful.” She wrinkled her nose. “And smelly, even up here.”

“Well, if you ever need some extra cash, let me know and I’ll pass your name around. People would pay good money for something like this. I’m just as happy to have a one-of-a-kind, though.”

“Better hold off on the praise until you make sure it still sounds right,” Marinette fretted, and Luka squeezed her shoulder.

“Don’t worry so much. I wouldn’t have let you touch it if I didn’t have complete confidence in you.”

Marinette gaped at him. “You said you could just refinish it again if it didn’t work out!”

“I did say that, and it’s technically true,” Luka laughed. “But I sure as hell don’t want to. It’s a lot of work.”

Marinette pouted, and Luka had to physically turn away from the sight now that he knew what those lips felt like.

She shouldn’t have kissed him, but in retrospect Luka blamed himself as much as her; he’d been hovering in her space lately, indulging in more physical contact than he probably should have. He’d always known she was attracted to him, and now, when she was in a headspace where she felt neglected and rejected, cozying up to her was just asking for pain. He could hardly fault her for giving into the impulse, he’d nearly done the same earlier. He was human, after all, hanging out with a cute girl that he really, really liked, and meditation could only do so much. Luka sighed and resolved reluctantly to keep a little more distance from now on, before he did something he ought to regret.

Naturally, Juleka chose that day to pick at him when he got home. “So, been making any progress on all these Marinette dates you’ve been having?” she asked, and he winced.

“They haven’t been dates, and...I’m not sure. Something feels different, but...” Luka shook his head. “I don’t want to get my hopes up. I’m just trying to be a friend she can count on. Honestly I’m not even sure she’s up to dealing with a guy in her life right now.”

Juleka snorted. “Don’t be stupid.”

“What?” Luka looked at her, and she tossed her bangs back to look at him.

“Marinette needs people to love, she can’t help it. She’s at her best when she’s caring for other people,” Juleka said, turning her face forward again, “It has to be a two-way street though, and that hasn’t been happening lately, in a lot of her relationships.” She looked down, twisting her hands in her lap guiltily. “And with Adrien,” Juleka continued, “She’s just...wasting energy that she really, really needs for other things. And...I think she might be figuring that out now.”

“What do you mean?” Luka asked, frowning.

“I’m not saying she’s moved on,” Juleka said cautiously. “But I’m saying she might have figured out she needs to. This whole...finding herself quest that she’s on...I think that’s part of it. I think something happened that she doesn’t want to talk to the rest of us about.”

Luka wanted to ask why she thought so, but had a feeling she wouldn’t tell him.

“How are you feeling about the things she wants you to wear for the photos?” he asked instead.

Juleka smiled broadly. “They’re awesome.”

“So feeling a little better about this time?”

“There won’t be so many people this time,” Juleka said. “Marinette has the whole thing planned out ahead this time, and she walked me through what she wants to do. And…” She bit her lip.

“And?” Luka prodded gently.

“And I...talked to Rose. About the panic attacks. So she knows what to do now.”

“That’s great, Jule.” Luka reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “I’m glad you decided to talk about that. I know that’s a big step.”

Juleka shrugged his hand off, blushing. “And you’ll be there, so it’ll be fine.”

“Love you too, sis.”

#quickspins #finding harmony #backlog #lukanette #i am lukanette trash i admit it #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #ml fics

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purplesurveys · 4 years

Text

1005

Do you live with your parents? Yup. Will probably continue to do so for a while, but that’s the norm here. We don’t really move out by the time we turn 18.

Are there any embarrassing school pictures of you anywhere in your house? Not necessarily here in the house, but I have embarrassing middle school photos floating around the internet for sure. And maybe from high school, too.

Can you do a backflip, or anything else of that sort? Not at all. I liked to try doing handstands as a child but nearly broke an arm at one point, so I wouldn’t fare well with a backflip.

What moment in your life have you been most scared? A few men have lunged at me while I was simply walking in public at night. I always have this grand vision of me slapping a guy or kicking his balls or spitting on his face if one decides to act stupid or harass-y around me, but... you’re never really prepared for when it actually happens. I’ve frozen up in terror every time, unable to defend myself.

Do you have any exes you can't stand anymore? I can’t stand how she handled things, but I’m not capable of hating her.

What happened to cause you to feel that way about them? I don’t feel like getting into the details, sorry. Everything still sucks.

Do you ever make your own surveys, or just take them? I take them. The few questions I manage to come up with have usually already been thought of, so I just like subscribing to survey-makers who are able to come up with new and interesting questions.

What would your parents do if you told them you were pregnant right now? They’d be sorely disappointed and I’m expecting to be heavily interrogated as well. Suffice it to say I’d be unwelcome at home in an instant.

Have you ever actually thought you were pregnant? No.

Were you? I’ve never been pregnant.

Are you more of a phone or a computer person? I’m on my phone for entertainment purposes, and my laptop is for work. I’d say I’m able to strike a good balance with both.

Do you like to cook, or do you prefer when other people cook for you? Well I haven’t learned how to cook well yet, so I don’t really have a choice.

How old do you think you'll be when you move out on your own? Mid- to late 20s, I hope.

Do you have a job? If so, where do you work? If not, do you want one? Currently, I’m an intern at a public relations agency but yes, I’m actively looking for full-time gigs too. I love my work though.

Have you ever ripped your pants in public? I don’t think so.

Do movies such as 'Saw' and 'The Grudge' scare you easily? Sure, but not as much as other horror flicks. It’s the psychological, slow burn ones that really get to me, like Midsommar.

Who do you talk to the most on MSN? I don’t have that.

How many best friends do you have? What are their names? I know I have at least one best friend, Angela. I’m too scared to ask if Gab still considers me as one. How sad is that?

What's the craziest thing you've ever been dared to do? I don’t like dares.

Did you do it?

Do you know anybody who has a birthday today? Hmm November 1...I don’t think so. The only birthday coming to mind is my cousin’s, but that’s not until the 3rd.

When is your birthday? How old will you be? April 21. On my next one, I’ll be 23.

Do you change the radio stations repeatedly in the car? If all the stations seem to be have meh playlists going on, then yes I change it around a lot.

Can you drive? Sure.

Have you ever thought someone was talking to you, but it turned out they were on the phone? Did you play it off? I can’t remember any specific instance at the moment but I’m not ruling it out. What I’ve definitely done is to wave at someone who wasn’t even waving at me.

Do you feel bad for homeless people? Yes, unless they got in that position by being an asshole. But I generally don’t come across that type of situation; and for the overwhelming majority of the time I do feel bad and helpless seeing homeless people, especially homeless kids.

What do you consider to be a good grade? 95 and above (for grade/high school) or 1.00/1.25 (for college).

What do you consider to be a bad grade? 85 and below or 2.00 and above.

Have you ever had a teacher who hated you? So many from my old school did. They were grown adults being pissy with a 12 year old; I will never understand that. They got away with it before but times have changed now, and I’m glad it’s for the better.

Can you remember who your grade 5 teacher was? Did you like them? Yeah. She was just fine, but I remember her having a bit of a temper. She’s mostly forgettable though and doesn’t rank in my favorites.

What's your favourite TV show? Breaking Bad.

In your opinion, who is the best looking celebrity out there at the moment? I’m incredibly out of the loop these days, so I’ll just go with my own biases: Kristen Stewart and Kate Winslet.

Do you like peanut butter cookies? Sure do. I do think there are better snacks that peanut butter can be incorporated in, but I wouldn’t turn down peanut butter cookies.

Do you know anybody that has severe allergies? Yeah, Angela with alcohol and Kate with eggs, fried chicken, and seafood. We feel particularly bad for Kate; those three things are all awesome :’(

Do you have an iPod? How many songs are on it? At the peak of my usage I probably had around 200-300 songs in it.

Who was the last person you slow danced with? I didn’t really do it with Gab a lot but I know she was the last. Kaye’s debut in 2017 if I remember correctly. There was a segment in her debut where couples were given the chance to slow-dance, but Gab and I decided against it because we were for sure going to get some looks, and we didn’t want to steal Kaye’s thunder. But she was so sweet to encourage us herself to go to the dance floor and have our moment amid all the straight couples that were there.

What was the last song you listened to on repeat? It was probably Why We Ever, as always. The lyrics are my entire thought process, so it’s a source of comfort knowing a song that understands me and my current situation so well.

What's your favourite song at the moment? I don’t have one.

Do you prefer headphones or earbuds? Earbuds. Headphones’ quality is great, but wearing them for too long ends up hurting my ears.

Do you ever ride the city bus? How much does it cost you? I don’t ride our buses. Bus drivers here drive like madmen and don’t maintain their vehicles, meaning there’s no AC, it’s super cramped, and the seats are probably nasty as crap; and while I would be willing to ride the more premium bus services that we also have, I never really had a reason to considering I have a car and driving on my own has always been more convenient.

How do you get to school? I rode a school bus from grade school to high school. I drove myself in college.

Speaking of school, do you like it or hate it? Loved it for the most part.

Are you a social person? I mean I don’t think ‘social’ defines me as a person, but I definitely can be it. I like being around people.

Are you reliable? Yes. I don’t like being unable to meet tasks or deadlines or expectations so I always find a way to get a job done.

What person/people of the opposite sex do you trust the most? Not sure if there’s such a guy at the moment.

What person/people of the same sex do you trust the most? My best friend.

Do you say 'like' a lot? Haha yeah, especially verbally.

What is the last book you read? Did you enjoy it? Midnight Sun. It’s great so far but it’s literally just like reading Twilight (because it is literally Twilight except told in Edward’s POV), which I’ve reread a handful of times, so my progress has been painfully slow.

Do you buy CDs anymore, or just download the songs? I stream on Spotify then watch the music video on YouTube, if it has one.

What is your favourite beverage to have in the morning? Coffee. Slowly turning into a morning coffee person, y’all.

Do you scream out the answers will watching game shows on TV? If I know the answer, yeah. I just blurt it out though, not scream.

Who in your life do you care about more than yourself? I can think of one such person but apparently that sentiment is no longer reciprocated, and I’m now also thinking if it ever even was reciprocated to begin with.

Would you ever consider adopting a child with a severe mental illness? At this point, no. That entails so much patience, a lot of commitment, a suitable living situation, and honestly in most cases a lot of money as well...it’s important to acknowledge that not everyone will be capable of having those things and it takes a certain kind of love and home for kids like them to be raised in the best way they could possibly be raised.

Do you have a brother or a sister? If so, are you close with them? Yeah. I’m close with my sister but not in a she’s-my-rock kind of way. We just get along super well.

If you are an only child, do you ever wish you had siblings?

When was the last time you were with all of your best friends? February.

Do you ever go into photobooths? Sure.

Do you waste money on unneccesary things? Hahahahahahaha please don’t remind me

Which wild animal would you most like to have as a pet? No thanks. They can stay in the wild, where they can thrive.

#survey #surveys

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projectsoleil · 3 years

Text

NOW STREAMING... MOON ROVER ADVENTURES S5EP18: THE SUNRISE FINALE | GABRIELLE MORNINGSTAR | CHAPTER 3 EXECUTION

Gabi finds himself in the arms of a couple people as the votes finish being counted, as his fate is decided. The hugs are returned as tightly as possible, clutching with every ounce of strength left in him, until the other person is shaking with him. When they pull away, he whispers thanks.

(Being held is only reminding him of the arms of the few he wants nothing more than to be in right now—face buried in Abe's shoulder, hidden against his chest with his lips pressed to the crown of his head; the soothing touch of Pheo's damaged hands through his curls, soft whispers of assurance; the swirling heat of a hearth and the unwavering, unshaking, protective embrace of Gale. Gabi rubs the heel of his hand over the tears burning down his cheeks instead, head down, and casts his gaze to—)

(—Hawk?)

Hawk crashes to the floor in an awful thump, convulsing on the ground while Tyr’s expression remains one that wasn’t joy at the situation, rather, dread at what was coming next. From Hawk, their attention went to Gabi, who's pupils were shrunk, trembling.

[Mr. Morningstar...it’s time...]

Tyr approaches Gabi slowly and offers their nub to him, though instead of taking it, the young man scoops Tyr up into his arms, holding him like one would a toddler or cat. For another hug, or in hopes to keep him from shooting at anyone else? From AI-T's podium, Rover suddenly goes rigid, and looking more robot-like than he ever has, turns and starts walking stiffly towards them. The redheaded bot stops once they get to the usual spot by the wall, and Gabi turns to look at him momentarily. A hand is lifted, and albeit shaky, presses against the center of the star on Rover's chest. The door in the wall pulls open, and as they turn back to give the room one last look, Fenrir, who has been silently waiting, shoves his phone against Maxwell's chest, then along with Galehaut, jumps to attention—bolting towards them.

"Fuck all that! Fuck all this!" Galehaut shouts. "When I said on our own terms, I meant it! Moon, I'm not gonna let them—!"

As they quickly approach, Tyr offers a small apology to the one that held them in his arms...

[I am sorry, Mr. Morningstar.]

They raise their nub, and like with Hawk, out launches a small pod shaped object that latches onto both of them and sends a powerful shock through their bodies.

Ah—Gabi grips Tyr tightly to his chest and makes a terrible, strangled sound as the two join Hawk on the floor. His gaze rips from them to stare wide-eyed and glossy at the rest of the room. He shakes his head a few times, backing up, backing up. Lips parted, like he's trying to say something, but his voice never reaches them—Rover steps between Gabi and the rest of you, obscuring the smaller body from view. The bot looks over his shoulder and gives the room an empty, dark, protective look, before the door slams shut, taking them away.

A minute passes...two...three...until finally the screen lights up with the single message:

PLEASE ENJOY THE PRESENTATION WE HAVE PREPARED

before fading back to black.

[TW: DESCRIPTIONS OF BEING BEATEN, GORE]

…

The lights dim, casting your cohort into a spill of long stretching shadows. There's a brief silence that follows, until a familiar, cheery theme song begins to chime through the room, growing in volume as the television screen flickers to life.

♫♪ i can reach all the stars in the sky with you by my side! ♪♫

The obnoxious tune of children singing is accompanied with a cartoon music video of what looks like a television show—shooting stars fall across the screen in a sparkly transition effect, opening up to the robot you’ve all grown familiar with over the course of the last month, cartoonified and walking around the moon to the beat of the song.

♫♪ and if we don't make it today, we'll try, try, try again another day! ♪♫

He's decked out in his hero suit, grinning ear to ear at the audience, and begins leaping from the moon to another planet. It plays in this sort of loop, with Moon Rover marching on rotating planets, waving at passing cartoon versions of.. well, you! He passes by Fenrir and gives him two high-fives, Snapshot he hip-checks, waving at Zero Sum and Oleander on a water-themed planet, Angel they clang a wine glass with...

♫♪ so let's shoot for the stars, and hang out on the moon, and together we'll be anything, anything, anything we've ever wanted to be! ♪♫

It ends with Moon Rover landing on the Earth, joining the rest of the show's cast. Heroes and villains in dramatic poses, making up your full group, including Collin and Ivo hovering by the sides of the screen.

Well... it includes everyone but one.

We zoom in on the cartoon Rover, who winks at the audience and gestures to follow him, before turning around into a transition. When the scene returns, we're joined with the real Rover, standing in what looks like the middle of the foyer of a massive house. He grins bright, wide, and opens his arms up to the viewers.

“HEYY, STAR TROOP! ‘m so glad y’were able to tune in today!"

He places his hands on his hips, leaning forward into the camera.

“Y’ready for today’s mission? T’day we got somethin’ a little different — we’re takin’ a trip back t’my childhood home! Keheh—betcha thought I lived in a rocket, yeah? Nope! I came from a house, just like yours!”

The hero beams at the audience and takes a step back, allowing the camera to sweep over the area better: yeah, he is in a foyer—the main entrance of a mansion—except, it’s as if someone has destroyed the place. Pictures are ripped from the wall, furniture toppled over--there’s areas that are just straight up blown up, holes broken through walls, the chandelier hanging slanted, too covered in char to glisten anymore, parts of the staircases caved in. Tire marks are burnt into the floor, the walls, the ceiling.

There’s a 360 degree pan of the entrance, before it stops on Rover, where he’s gesturing to follow him again. He walks over broken wood and ash, until he gets to a form laying on the floor behind a fallen loveseat: bound at the wrists and ankles, Moon is trying to wiggle himself free.

“Today we’ve got a suuuuper special guest!” He squats down next to Moon, grabbing a fistfull of his hair and pulling his head up off the floor. The boy winces, pieces of glass and dirt stuck into his cheeks. “The villain who hurt poor, poor Venus! An' subsequently hurt loads more through his choices! I already went ahead an' caught him, so, of course, all what's left is teachin' this no-good hooligan a lesson! Will you help me, Star Troop??"

There’s a blur of movement, and the binds on Moon’s hands and feet are cut—he immediately goes to scramble away, but with a simple step on the corner of his hoodie, he slams back to the ground. Nonchalantly, without hesitation or warning, Rover kicks Moon in the stomach—knocking him backwards in a cry.

Despite being kicked aside like a limp doll, Moon pushes himself up onto his elbows, grimacing, and begins crawling. Rover strolls slowly after him, easy and with a bounce to his step. When he reaches him, he bends down to grab the collar of his shirt, pick him up, and punch him directly in the jaw. It isn't pretty, the next seconds—if this were cinematic in any definition of the word, the moment would be done through silhouettes, the shadow of Rover pulling his arm back and bringing it down mercilessly into the smaller man's form, the ugly sounds of flesh being beaten being the only sense of how awful it is.

You don't get that pleasure. You see it all: no pretty cuts or dramatic angles to censor the boy's face splitting open, blood spilling up from fractured ribs into wet coughs, red splattering across Rover's hero costume. If anyone else was in his place, literally anyone else in the courtroom, this would be solved in an instant — a magma punch, a swipe of a sword, the crack of lightning, and this wouldn’t even be a fight. But Moon isn’t a hero. Not in the super-deep, metaphoric sort of way, but just that: Moon was a civilian.

He’s dropped to the ground in a gross crack, whining, but moving regardless. He scrambles to his feet this time, using the help of a chair thrown on its side. He runs. He isn’t fast, especially now with his hand clutched to his chest, wheezing, but he runs… not to the front door like you’d expect, but deeper into the mansion. Rover walks behind him, chatting to the audience, you suppose, but now you’re following Moon.

A door is flug open, and he staggers into a huge workshop. For someone who is frequently found scrawling on his arms to organize roaring thoughts and ideas, the place is surprisingly spotless, orgazined: filled with tools and kilns and forges and anvils. Computer software you know costs millions just by the sight. The young man’s eyes dart desperately around the room, and he makes a bee-line for the back wall full of displayed gear. A weapon? Is he looking for something to use? He grabs a pair of gauntlets first, something similar to Galehaut’s color scheme, before throwing them on the ground. A pair of yellow lense goggles—no. A botched looking race car—no. A pair of motorized wheelies—no. Equipment, equipment, equipment! He didn’t make weapons! He didn’t—

“Found ya!”

—whack!—

Something whizzes past Moon’s head, smacking his hand away from the wall in the process. He turns around, and a small, helicopter-like birdbot is hovering in the air in front of him. Moon blinks, and then the bird shoots forward, whacking him a few more times in the head. It looks less like it hurts, and more like it’s just a distraction. The boy stumbles to the side, tripping over a small dogbot waddling by his feet. He crashes into the wall, and an array of different gear topples over.

It’s more pathetic than tragic, watching his own work fall on his head. He collapses under the weight, but ever-stubborn, ever-determined, ever-unbreakable, Moon whines and pushes his way out, tries to get to his feet once, fails, twice, fails again, and on the third—

—on the third, a red hand snaps forward and grips his throat, pulls him free, and dangles him up into the air, grinning widely.

“Didn’t think y’could run, didja? Y’know, people want y’blood! They voted for it! Y’think I could let down the Star Troop now?? After how badly ya did?? They need someone they can trust, afterall!”

Moon grips Rover’s forearm with both his hands, clawing weakly at his gloves. The tips of his toes can just barely reach the pile of gear beneath him, so he’s at the very least got a bit of footing. Not that it matters—it’s no use, of course it’s no use—Moon reaches out to push at his bot’s face, push him away, do anything, anything— ah, wait? No.. he’s..

With a trembling hand, Moon sinks three of his fingers into the back of Rover’s head, prompting a hatch to pull away and open up in his chest, exposing a variety of wires and a pinpad. Rover doesn’t seem concerned, just keeps on holding Moon by the neck, even as the blonde starts fumbling a code in the pad.

He's dying. A small red button opens up between all the switches and buttons in Rover’s chest, and Moon's frantic, desperate reaching for the button slows down considerably. Really, it's kind of anti-climatic for a death, nevermind a supposed fantastical execution. Maybe that was what Moon deserved, though — something quiet, uneventful, alone.

Click!

...Just kidding! He presses the button. Rover’s grip falls away immediately, dropping Moon in a heap on the floor and leaving him doubled over, gasping and coughing, gulping down air like he'd been drowning. In front of him, Rover’s expression seems frozen, and his body begins… going limp? No, no.. it almost looks like he’s.. shutting down? A second later, Rover has joined Moon on his knees in front of him, his smile frozen, his shoulders slumping, his right eye flashing red. His right eye flashing red.. slowly.

“...keh..”

There is hardly any distance between the two, but when Moon pushes himself up and wraps his arms around his robot, hooking his chin on his shoulder, the effort looks akin to dragging your hands down a wall of glass shards.

“...’bout.. time we wrapped this up, huh?” His voice would’ve been impossible to hear had this not been meant for entertainment — hoarse, whisper-quiet.

The sentence seems to, somehow, despite the red light increasing in speed, prompt a corrupt, laggy voice to start speaking: “..S-S-SHOOT FOR THE STARS—!”

“—even.. if y’miss..”

Moon grabs fistfulls of the back of Rover’s suit, squeezing his eyes shut.

“..you’ll land on the—!”

…

[♫♪♫♪♫♪]

The screen blacks out, rattling — the sound from the speakers blowing out from sheer force of the explosion. You… you feel like you should feel it in the courtroom—the floor shaking and rumbling beneath you, but you don’t. Somehow, it makes it feel more empty. More far away.

As the scene settles, the dust and smoke beginning to clear, you notice blood splattered on the lense of the camera—blurred and out of focus, but unmistakably blood. Debris and metal parts are scattered everywhere, wires twisted and still burning like lit fuses. Something drips from the ceiling, and you're unsure if it's blood or a combination of that and flesh. But more importantly, you see the remains of a human body — the parts you'd never want to see; splintered bone, limbs still stuck in clothes, a head in the corner of the scene, blonde hair smoking, lulling on the slanted floor, and what you catch sight of his face is burnt through to the inside of his mouth, burnt through to his skull.

He looks like he was screaming, and though you know he wasn't in his last moments, this image will likely be the thing you remember when you think of him.

...

Life is continuous.

Tonight, the sky will finish clearing the storm and the moon will glow across the horizon like it has every other night, and how it will continue to shine for every other night after this. For nothing has really changed—and that's the bonus of playing a stage hero robot that could be replicated, right? Built on? Upgraded? For years and years and years to come, beyond your short life, he can still do something amazing without you.

Yeah, the world will keep going on without you.

You wanted that.

(Didn't you?)

[Gabrielle & Rover Morningstar have been executed.]

(thank you han for the art!)

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egotheplanet · 5 years

Text

Stories Over Burgers (Happy Hogan and Morgan Stark)

Summary: for some reason I cant stop picturing Morgan as an outcast in school. Like Lilo from Lilo and Stitch. The line from the movie where Lilos talking to Nani and she says “they’re afraid of me” and Nani says “They just don’t know what to say.” BC HER PARENTS ALSO DIED. I mean, can’t you just imagine ? her dad was fucking iron man and she has so many stories she wants to share bc she loved her daddy 3,000 but a mean kid shows her Mysterios ‘evidence’ about tony being a bad guy. Happy ‘Protective Dad’ Hogan drives to pick her up after school only to see her in the courtyard fighting with one of the kids. I kind of changed the FFH mid credits scene to be a little more detailed about Tony’s part in Spider-Man’s inheritance of the tech. roll with it and be sad with me.

Warnings: spoilers to SM:FFH and Endgame

Word Count: 1.7k

•••••••••••••••••

Happy enviously scans the sidewalk where plenty of timely children sit waiting for their guardians to pick them up.

‘You’d think after 6 hours in a chair the kid would be brimming with pent up energy she could spend running to the car. Maybe I should get her a watch that beeps when it’s time to head to the car loop.’ He thought to himself.

Releasing a long slow exhale through his nose, he unbuckled his seat belt and stepped out of the car. He’s come to learn that if you ask politely, the administrative office will summon your student over the loud speakers.

‘What’s holding her up?’

His walk to the office came to slow down when he heard childish yells and taunts. He grumbled at the association the sound held in his mind. ‘Kids probably fighting in the courtyard over a pudding cup.’

As he continued towards the yard in question, the administrative office nestled at the end of it, he narrowed his eyes and listened closer. ‘That kind of sounds like... Morgan?’

His walking pace hastened into a speed walk as the classic ring of students watching a fight came into view.

Just as he suspected, a little girl consisting mostly of long brown hair could be seen and heard yelling and stomping in anguish. Definitely Morgan. The kids started chanting ‘fight’ and Happy knew it was about to get physical. He quickly jumped in to stop it all together. The sight of an adult/ authoritative figure made the bystanders scatter.

“Alright, now what’s goin on here? Break it up!”

His large adult hand wraps around Morgans minuscule arm gently yet firmly to pull her away. The girls purposefully avoid eye contact.

He lets a huff out of his chest in annoyance at the silence.

“You two had a lot to say a couple seconds ago, why so quiet now? What. Happened?” At this point the principal was standing by and taking in the scene quietly.

Morgan whispers, “She said he was a bad guy.”

Happys brows crease together in confusion as he bends down at the knee so he’s eye level with her, “Who was a bad guy?”

Her voice trembles and her hair, previously pinned back with pink clips which were now lost in the mess of grass beneath them, hides her teary eyes as she can only make a sound of frustration. Being young meant articulating the world with a fraction of functioning vocabulary. It was frustrating, Happy knew that. He and Pepper always took their time with Morgan. Especially after all she’s been through.

“Morgan? Who was a bad guy?” His voice is much softer now.

She continues to refuse to make eye contact.

He sighs and his eye level falls to his shoes upon realizing who was awarded the title ‘bad guy’.

Morgan ripped her arm out of his grasp and backed up about a foot. Her eyes stayed low. She needed a little space to think and breathe through it. Just like he taught her.

Her mother always said ‘You’ve got your fathers looks and brain. It’s fitting you get his temper to top it off.” It was never maliciously spoken. Only... melancholic.

Happy resumed standing and exchanged words with the principal.

It felt like an eternity to Morgan. Her tummy felt upset at the thought of getting into trouble. But it felt even more upset when the girl began to preach about someone she didn’t know.

“Morgan? Did you hear me?” He remained standing tall this time as he spoke to her. “Your principal said you have to stay home tomorrow.” He’s seen her enough to know when she’s about to explode with emotion. “You caused a scene and almost broke into a fight. Your mom is gonna discipline you accordingly. It’s gonna be fine.”

Morgan’s breathing slightly quickened and her throat felt tight. Her eyes were burning hot as she looked up at him and the oceans began pouring out of her tear ducts.

“I’m sorry, Happy.”

He believed her wholeheartedly.

“Let’s just... Let’s head home, okay?” He held his hand out. Open and inviting.

She graciously accepted.

They walked side by side all the way to the car.

Holding open the door, he felt both sad and proud as she buckled herself in.

——————

“Two cheeseburgers, one without onions or pickles and the other with extra onions and pickles. One large fry, one small HI-C and one large Diet Coke. That’ll be all, thank you.”

She played with her hands as he ordered.

The backseat wasn’t very eventful when you lose your iPad for causing a ‘ruckus’ as her mother put it. Happy of course called Pepper as soon as they got into the car. The iPad was the only thing around at the moment that would suffice as a good punishment till they got home. Then she’d get a whole other talk and loss of privilege.

The smell of the car quickly turned from clean leather to hot French fries and ketchup as the bags came in through the window.

Happy put them in the empty passengers seat and rolled into a parking spot on the other side of the building. He turned the car off and passed back her order.

“Don’t forget to use a napkin this time.” He spoke after taking a chunk out of his burger. “Your last ketchup stain was a pain.”

Her lips perked up for the first time in a half hour. A long time for a child like Morgan not to smile.

“That rhymed, Happy!”

He felt a rush of relief pass through him. She wasn’t too upset to enjoy his Seuss-like antics.

“Yeah, I guess it did.” They looked at each other through the rear view window. After a considerable amount of time passed he spoke. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

The rustling of her burger wrapper ceased.

“No.”

Happy ate a few more bites, finishing the rest of his sandwich. He didn’t want to pry but he needed to make sure this wouldn’t happen again.

He didn’t care about her defending herself. It was the right thing to do. He cared about her feelings being hurt in a place she’s supposed to be happy and learning.

“Can you at least tell me how it started?”

The car was deathly silent for a few seconds straight. The air was loud, louder than they were. Just when he thought the entire subject was a lost cause, he heard a meek voice.

“My teacher was talking about rockets. The space ones.” She paused to recollect, glancing in the mirror and noticing him offer his full attention. “So I told him about daddy’s rockets. I told him how he used them to fly and save people.”

She had to pause between a few words to take audible breaths. It was a hard subject to cover.

“And then I had to go potty so he excused me and when I came back, my table buddies were talking.” She stopped for a couple seconds to take a sip of her juice. “They said their parents watch the news and that it said daddy was a bad guy. That he didn’t really save people and he tried to hurt them.” Her voice was soft and held a confused tone.

Happys heart sank as he tried to think up a way to steer her out of his information hole. He didn’t want her only memories of her father to be tarnished by the bored pieces of crazed writers and an insane super villain. He paused before speaking with a hopeful tone.

“Morgan, do you know how well I knew your dad?” She shook her head. “Well, I started as just a driver. Taking him from spot to spot.”

She perked up. “Like how you drive me to school?”

He smiled slightly. “That’s right. And then he promoted me to head of security.”

“He said you were forehead of secur-”

“See, he always got those words a little fumbled. Th-That wasn’t my title. The point is— Let’s get back on track— the point is: your dad trusted me.” He spoke quickly and jumbled while attempting to get the conversation back on course as she giggled out loud. “We weren’t just people who worked together. We were friends. Close friends. I knew a lot about your dad. I knew stuff about him before he did sometimes.” He thought back to the start of Tony and Peppers relationship. “So believe me when I say this.. are you listening?”

Sensing the change in pace at the end of his speech, she nodded, fully captivated by his words.

“Good, okay.” He locked eyes with her in the mirror. “Your dad loved you so much, kiddo. He loved you. He loved your mom too.” He took a moment to unbuckle his seatbelt and turn around so he could look at her formally. “He loved people. He protected you, your mom and everyone in the world until the very end.”

She was too young to grasp the levity of his words but he continued. She needed to hear this so her father could remain the hero he was in her little mind.

“He never once hurt anyone intentionally without the protection of everyone else he loved in mind. Your table buddies didn’t know him the way I did. So you can trust me and ignore them, okay? Your dad was a good man, not a bad guy. I would know.” She was quiet. Not the bad quiet but the thinking to herself quiet.

“Okay.”

He chuckled softly at her graceful lack of words. His were definitely too much for an eight year old.

“You know what? I’m gonna tell you something.” He held a joking tone which was barely above a whisper.

“What?” She matched his tone with a small smile.

“Your dads rockets didn’t always work. Sometimes they knocked him onto his butt.” He smiled fondly at the memories as she laughed.

“That’s funny, Happy.” She munched on a French fry and sipped the rest of her juice. Her feet kicked and swayed the whole drive home. Her mood had significantly increased.

As Happy drove himself home later that night, he reflected on how much Tony gave to others. The muddy and wrong picture Mysterio painted of him wasn’t right and wasn’t fair.

It was then and there he decided that for every bad story Morgan heard about Tony that made her cry, he would tell her two more that would make her laugh. Happy meal included.

And boy, did he have enough stories to last a lifetime.

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raphpanda21 · 5 years

Text

When you get what you want but not what you need

Last time

Thanatos stood gently ruffling her hair before grabbing his keys and leaving. As he left the house the urge to fly off and kick a certain sun gods ass made his blood boil but he pushed it down. It would be Persephone’s choice on what would happen to Apollo. They would discuss retribution’s later.

Deciding walking might help him burn off some of the anger he felt he turned his steps in the direction of the nearest pharmacy. It was about a 4 block walk to get there but he was too distracted to care about the distance. A dull vibration in his pocket brought his wandering mind to the present. Pulling out his phone he saw he had received a new text from Eros.

Mama’s Boi: Just got out of Pilates class. How is it going ? Talk to your Princess yet?

Pausing at the entrance to the store he typed back a quick reply

Thanatos: Yes I have talked to her.

Mama’s Boi: Soooo ? Deets?

Having moved into the store he glanced down at the text browns knitting together as he picked up a shopping basket.

Thantos: Deets?

Seconds after he hits send the phone nearly vibrated out of his hand Ero’s name and photo covering the screen. Sighing he swipes to accept the call wedging the phone between his ear and the top of his shoulder.

Eros: Details! What are the details! You have me more thirsty than that Pilates class.

Thantos rolled his eyes as he finally located the family planning aisle. The set up for this aisle always struck him as funny. Sorr of a choose your own story. Used a condom, good for you you stay . Are a cheapskate that used a condom but it ripped your journey continues. Didn’t use any protection at all skip ahead to chapter three.

Thanatos: I don’t know what you want me to say. She messaged me at work about it and I decided discussing it via computer wouldn’t exactly be appropriate I went up to her and we talked some.

Eros: That is it? Did she tell you who the caveman was?

Thanatos came to a stop in front of the family planning section he was looking for his eyes widening at the assortment of options. Why did there need to be so many ? Which was the right one for this situation. He picked up two different tests reading the backs of both of them before putting them back. So it seemed the main difference was preference on oracle and how soon you wanted to be able to detect. He wasn’t sure how long ago the Apollo event occurred but it had to have been fairly recent since Persephone herself had only been away from her mother a short time from what he had heard.

Eros: Thanatos are you still there ?

Thanatos: Huh ? Oh yeah still here what were you asking ?

Eros groaned in annoyance at having to repeat himself

Eros: Was that it? Did she say who the creep was?

Thanatos: Not really, she was understandably was in a bit of a state so I helped her clean herself up and took her back to my place.

His voice drops lower so as not to be overheard

Thanatos: As for who it was, she told me and he is a serial asshole.

Eros: Anyone I know.

Thanatos: I would be surprised if you didn’t.

Eros: Soooo? Are you going to make me play hangman or something? Who was it ?

Thanatos was debating between two different tests finally settling on the Delphi branded one. Sure it was expensive but he didn’t believe one should go cheap ever but especially not in this situation.

Thanatos: I can’t tell you. At least not until I hear from her what she plans to do. She is a grown woman and it is her right to decide the punishment for the crime but if she decides to let me handle it you will be the first number on my speed dial. I haven’t forgotten how much you enjoy a good ass kicking.

Eros: You know me too well. Is it awful that I really want her to let us handle it.

Thanatos had been walking to the pharmacy counter to get his second purchase but paused seeing the frozen food section’s ice cream selection. Maybe Princess would like some ice cream all girls loved ice cream right ? Opening the door he began to contemplate the options

Thanatos: Not at all, I almost flew off and murdered the dick myself. Hey Eros what would a chick like more chocolate chip or lavender French vanilla?

Eros: What are you talking about right now? Transitions are super helpful chicken little.

Thantos: Ice cream, girls eat that as comfort food when they are upset right? I figured I would get the princess some.

Eros: Not a horrible idea but I have no clue. Just pick a few options to better your chances of getting it right. Where are you though? I thought you were at your house.

Dropping both ice creams in his basket he shuts the freezer door moving on to the chilled wine section and grabbing himself a bottle of Rose.

Thanatos: I am at the pharmacy near my house.

Eros: The pharmacy? Are you hurt? Wait don’t tell me this bastard knocked your little princess around.

Thanatos: What? No nothing like that. Look to put it as simply as I can the fellow in question had relations with her and didn’t take the gentlemanly steps of protection.

Eros: ....oh snap. She didn’t have any either I take it?

Thanatos sighs getting in the waiting line for the pharmacist letting his voice drop down to a whisper

Thanatos: No she wasn’t actually fully on board for any of the activities that occurred from the sound of it. It was just a pretty awful occurrence all around for her and now she is even more worried and scared about the possible consequences.

Eros: Damn, that’s understandable this asshole is a real piece of work.

Thanatos: You say that and you haven’t even seen the pictures. It has been a long time since I have had such murderous feelings.

Seeing some of the other customers in line fidgeting nervously he remembered where he was.

Thanatos: Anyhow, gotta run and Finnish my errands. Will talk later.

Eros: Alright , keep me in the loop, I need to run too. Lunch with Mom and you know how demanding she is.

Thanatos: lucky you. Have fun with that.

Eros: Ha Ha bye.

With a click the line goes dead and Thanatos put his phone back into his pocket patiently waiting his turn to speak with the pharmacist. Finally making it the front he placed his basket of items on the counter. The pharmacist begins to pull the items out ringing up the wine and ice cream first

Hygieia: Good afternoon Thanatos. What brings you here ? Run out of your calcium supplements again?

Thanatos scratches the back of his head feeling a tad uncomfortable.

Thanatos: Not today I need a test actually a friend of mine had relations with someone and they want to ensure they didn’t contract something.

#greekgods #drabble #inspired #loreolympus #persephone #thanatos #lore olympus

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downn-in-flames · 6 years

Text

Love, Lily Evans

In hindsight, Lily really shouldn’t have written up a list of all the boys she’d ever fancied and what she liked about each of them.

A Jily ‘To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before’ AU

Read it on: HPFT | AO3 | FFnet

In hindsight, Lily really shouldn’t have written up a list of all the boys she’d ever fancied and what she liked about each of them.

But in her defence, she had absolutely no reason to believe that any part of that list would ever see anywhere other than the inside of her nightstand drawer. That reasoning, however, completely ignored the existence of a vengeful older sister by the name of Petunia Evans.

In the aftermath of some massive fight between the two girls, Petunia had been looking for a missing tube of mascara in her sister’s room and had instead happened upon the list: five names, each followed by a brief sets of bullets about what she liked most about each of them.

And so Petunia had cut the paper into five pieces, looked up the boys’ addresses, and sent each of them off in little pink envelopes, signed ‘Love, Lily Evans.’

Lily, of course, knew about absolutely none of this until it was entirely too late.

As such, she’s completely thrown for a loop when a cryptic text message from Remus pops up on her phone.

Uhh, Lily, you know I’m gay, right?

Um, yes?

Trust me, I’ve witnessed you and Sirius snogging enough to know that.

“Lily, James is here!” her mum’s voice rings out from downstairs.

“Can you send him up?” Lily yells back. “I’m in the middle of something!”

She looks down at her phone right as the new message alert pops up.

Then what’s this all about?

Attachment: 1 image

Lily drops her phone as if it’s burned her. And then she picks it back up again, staring at the image she just received from one of her closest friends, because no, it can’t be.

But alas, it is. Looking right back at Lily is her own loopy handwriting:

Reasons I fancy Remus Lupin:

-Pretty brown eyes

-Smart, but not in an overbearing/know-it-all type of way

-Super informed and passionate about activism in politics

That’s… her note. Remus has her note. How the hell did he get her note?

When she finally figures out how to breathe again, she taps out a reply.

Where’d you get that?

It came in the mail today.

Lily instantly scrambles to her nightstand, opening the top drawer and reaching towards the back. And of course, there’s nothing back there anymore. The piece of paper is gone.

No, not gone. It has apparently been sent out into the world, which is objectively ten thousand times worse than just being ‘gone.’

Holy shit. Holy shit. She’s going to murder Petunia for this. They’ve done all sorts of petty, stupid things to each other over the years - but this... this is a whole new level of cruel.

She mentally ticks through the five boys who would’ve received one of those slips of paper.

First up was Benjy Fenwick, the sweet, slightly theatre-obsessed boy she had lunch period with in year 7. They’d bonded over a mutual love of Phantom of the Opera and Wicked, and the fact that Benjy’s mum always threw a pack of Maltesers into his lunchbox even though he hated them. Luckily for Lily, she didn’t share the same aversion.

Next up was Remus - Lily had developed a bit of a crush on him in year 9. He was bookish, soft-spoken, and cute in that slightly-nerdy way that worked really well for him. That crush was short-lived, however, because Remus came out to her a few months later and started dating Sirius not long after.

Third: Bertram Aubrey. He’s a year older than them – so he’s probably off at uni now, anyways. They’d both entered the science fair last year, and Lily was absolutely swooning at this blond, picture-perfect boy who loved talking about polymerase chain reactions and chromatography.

Fourth on that list was Dirk Cresswell. He’s younger than Lily by a year, and it’s probably a little questionable that she’d taken to fancying him anyways, because they’d first met while she was tutoring him in Biology. But she’s pretty sure the sweet boy with chunky spectacles fancied her as well at the time, so maybe it’s not that awkward.

But the fifth and final note is the one that makes Lily’s skin crawl, because she‘s absolutely terrified of how the boy in question will react to it.

She hasn’t spoken to Severus Snape in over a year, for a whole host of reasons. The boy’s politics are repulsive – he’d made more than one comment in the past about immigrants that had made Lily want to slap him – and he’d gotten oddly possessive of her in the months leading up to the severance of their friendship. And then there was the final straw: he’d called her a slut when he overheard that she’d hooked up with a random boy at a party, as if somehow that one action was a reflection of her overall virtue as a person. Lily was so hurt and offended and righteously indignant that she swore up and down that she’d never speak to him again.

But the truth is that, at one point, long before she’d realized what an arse he was, she’d had an inkling of a crush on him. She’d admired how smart he was and how good he was at chemistry, and how he’d helped her stand up to Petunia when she was being mean. And they were such good friends, too. And so his name got added to the list.

“Er, are you okay, Lily?” She snaps her head up in the direction of James’ voice. The boy in question is leaning against the doorway, watching her with an amused expression behind tortoiseshell glasses.

“You’re staring at that phone like you’ve just found out the Queen died…” he trails off, suddenly looking concerned. “Oh God, the Queen didn’t die, did she?”

“No, nope, it’s not that,” Lily answers.

It’s a much bigger fucking deal than that.

“Care to explain then?”

Lily flops back onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling. “So I kind of… wrote a bunch of love notes.”

James’ eyebrows shoot up, disappearing into his messy fringe. “You what?”

“Most of them were years ago,” Lily quickly amends. “And they weren’t even love notes, really – it was just a list of boys I fancied and what I liked most about them. It was a scientific thing, really. I was trying to see if I had a type – you know, one common thread between all of them that would explain the type of person I’m attracted to.”

“And this is causing you to panic because…?”

“Because Petunia sent them out. She cut them up and sent them out in little envelopes, and now they’ve all gotten them apparently, and… fuck.”

James frowns, and sits on the bed next to her. “So who all got a letter?”

“That’s the problem,” Lily sighs, sitting up. “Remus got one and texted me about it – that one’s fine, he’s with Sirius and he totally gets that I wrote it ages ago. Then there’s Benjy Fenwick, Bertram Aubrey, and Dirk Cresswell – and like, those are all super awkward, but they’re not the ones I’m worried about.”

“So who’s the one you’re worried about then?”

Lily can’t even look him in the eye when she mumbles out the answer.

“You fancied Snape?”

That’s actually a milder reaction than she’d expected from James. The two boys had never gotten along well – which was an absolute nightmare when Lily was still attempting to be friends with both.

Lily avoids James’ eyes and instead focuses on playing with the ends of her hair. “Sort of? It was ages ago, before I realized what a terrible person he is. But I just know he’s going to use this as an excuse to try to get close to me again, and I am so horrendously unprepared to deal with his manipulation tactics again.”

James doesn’t have an answer to that.

Lily opts to dramatically fall onto her back again. “God, this whole thing would be so much easier if I had a boyfriend or something – you know, make it very obvious that I’m not interested in any of them anymore.”

And then she gets an idea.

“Unless,” she says, propping herself up on her elbows. “James, can you be my boyfriend?”

His eyes almost pop out of his head and he just stares at her, slack-jawed. Lily quickly realizes that she’s phrased this question terribly and that he’s probably panicking and trying to come up with a way to turn her down gently because they’re childhood friends for heaven’s sake, and it sounds an awful lot like she just asked him out.

“Not, like, for real,” she adds. “We’d just be pretending. Just for long enough to get Snape and the rest of them to leave me alone. I swear I’ll make it up to you somehow. Plus, it’d be a chance for you to make that new girl you’ve been talking to – what’s her name? Hestia, right? You’d get a chance to make her jealous, so really, it’s a win for both of us.”

Lily’s a bit out of breath from how fast she said all that, and James is still staring at her, looking a bit stunned. He has, though, at least regained the ability to blink.

“Please?” she says, giving James her best attempt at puppy-dog eyes. “I’ll – I’ll go across town and find a pack of those deer-shaped lollies you like so much or something. I know it’s kind of a really ridiculous means of handling this, but I think the ridiculousness of it is what’ll make it work – I just really don’t want to have to deal with Snape after all of this.”

“Er, yeah,” he answers eventually, a hand flying up to the back of his neck. “I guess I can do that.”

Lily sits up and hugs him, before looking at him seriously. “Thank you James, you’re literally saving my ass.”

“Just don’t go falling for me, Evans,” he replies with a cheeky grin.

She laughs. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about that.”

Lily could very well be imagining it, but she swears his smile becomes a bit more forced at that.

They work on homework for a bit – James providing live commentary on his art history reading as Lily attempts to balance chemical reactions – until James gets a text from his mum reminding him that dinner’s going to be ready soon.

He grabs all his papers off Lily’s bed, careful not to grab any of hers, before stuffing them into his backpack.

“See you tomorrow, Lily,” he says, swinging his bag onto one of his shoulders.

And then he does something entirely unexpected. He leans down and kisses her. It’s nothing grand – just a little peck on the lips – but it’s enough to make Lily stare at him, stunned and at a complete loss for words.

“I – what?” she eventually stutters.

James smirks at her. “If we’re going to be pretending that we’re a couple, you’re going to have to get used to the concept of me kissing you. And I had a pretty good feeling you’d react like that the first time, so I figured we might as well get it out of the way when no one was watching.”

She throws a pillow at him, but he dodges it, laughing on his way out of her room and all the way down the hall.

When she hears his footsteps start going down the stairs, she brings a finger to her lips, which are still tingling from the contact.

Well, that was an experience.

On Monday, James is waiting in her front lawn to walk to school with her.

They’ve always done this – so the concept of him walking with her to school shouldn’t feel that foreign – but there’s something different about it this time.

It’s partly (okay, mostly) due to the fact that, before they round the corner to Hogwarts College, James grabs on to her hand, lacing his fingers in between her own.

Oh, right, Lily mentally berates herself. That’s the sort of thing couples are supposed to do.

Why is James so much more of a natural at this fake-dating stuff than she is?

She squeezes his hand just before they walk through the doors to the school, as both a gesture of gratitude and a little way of saying ‘okay, we’ve got this.’

It’s not until they get to the café that anyone really notices this new development between Lily and James.

“Did I miss something?” Marlene McKinnon asks, grinning wolfishly at the two of them as they join her at the table.

“Oh, yeah, er,” Lily stumbles through her words. As great an idea as this whole ‘fake relationship’ thing was at the time, Lily didn’t really think through the fact that she’d end up lying to her friends about it as well.

She’s saved from her awkward moment, however, by the arrival of the most dramatic person she knows. “Well, well, well – what do we have here?” Sirius announces dramatically, falling into the seat on the other side of James. “Could it be? Are you two really, finally together?”

Lily’s a bit jarred by how Sirius’ use of the word ‘finally,’ as if her dating James was something he’d been expecting to happen, but she’s got an answer for him this time. “Yeah, we are,” she replies, hoping she sounds a bit more confident than she feels.

“Well, thank fuck.” Sirius sighs dramatically. “I was beginning to think that James was never going to – oi, OUCH.”

He stops mid-sentence to glare at James, who seems to be glaring right back. “As I was saying,” Sirius starts again, “I was beginning to think James was never going to date anyone after that Amelia bird.”

Lily thinks back to James’ last girlfriend – was it two years ago? Amelia Bones was drop-dead gorgeous, with hair like sunshine and a personality to match. She and James had been rather happy together for a total of five months, before she found out that she was transferring to a school up north, and the prospect of long-distance was entirely too much to handle for a couple of sixteen-year-olds.

“Yeah, well that was two years ago,” James says, releasing Lily’s hand to run his hand through his hair.

She hadn’t realized she was still holding it.

The bell rings, and they all get up to walk to their respective classes. James has English first period and she’s got Biology, but he walks with her to her classroom anyways.

She tries to tell him that he doesn’t have to, but in the end, she’s really fucking grateful he insisted.

Because of course, as she rounded the corner to the science hall, who else would she see on the other end of the hallway but Severus Snape? And the look he gives her – oddly hopeful, full of questions – makes her stomach tie itself in knots.

“Shit,” she says under her breath, looking away from the boy she’s desperately trying to avoid. “It’s Snape.”

So she does what any totally rational person would do in this situation: she grabs James by the collar and starts kissing him.

He reacts to the surprise remarkably well – after the initial shock of it wears off, he starts to kiss her back, turning so that her back bumps softly against the wall. From this angle, there’s absolutely no way that Snape can’t see them.

Lily isn’t entirely sure how long they stay like that, kissing against the wall in the middle of the hallway, but it’s definitely long enough to make sure Snape gets the message. And then some.

“Mr. Potter! Miss Evans!” a sharp voice interrupts them. “No public displays of affection in the hallway!”

Lily breaks apart from James just in time to see McGonagall turn the corner down the next hallway. Yikes.

“Worth it,” James grins. “That should get Snape off your back for a little bit, yeah?”

Lily doesn’t get a chance to respond, because James is already halfway down the hallway before she catches her breath again.

So instead, she’s stuck with an incredibly boring Biology lecture and a never-ending fluttering in her stomach whenever she thinks about how damn cheeky James looked after she kissed him.

After the initial awkwardness of that first day, fake-dating James becomes a lot easier.

Something about being friends for six years makes it easy to predict each other’s moves, which helps to eliminate a lot of that early relationship awkwardness of ‘is now a weird time to be holding hands?’ and ‘is he going in for a hug or a kiss?’

They just… know, somehow. It’s kind of unnerving, just how well they’re able to pull this whole thing off. It’s almost to the point that Lily manages to forget that they’re faking this thing every once in a while.

They end up on a double-date with Sirius and Remus, squished into a tiny booth at The Three Broomsticks Diner around the corner from the school. It’s almost exactly like any other time they’ve all hung out, except James has his arm draped along the back of the booth behind Lily and her hand is resting on his left thigh.

“Binns had the most boring lecture on Much Ado About Nothing today,” James says, waving a chip around as he talks. “And that’s saying something, because that’s my favourite Shakespeare play. And he just… ruined it!”

“At least you didn’t have to sit through Slughorn talking about carbon bonds for an hour straight today,” Lily replies, reaching for the plate of chips herself, “as if we haven’t been talking about them since year 8.”

“Can confirm,” Remus adds. “It was miserable, and he spent at least half the lesson doting on Snape’s ‘absolutely smashing’ essay from last week.”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Fuck, that’s enough to ruin anyone’s day. God knows Snivellus doesn’t need any more of a reason to have his head up his own ass.”

He pauses for a moment. “No offense, Lily.”

They’re all still occasionally sensitive about making comments about Snape around Lily, on account of the one time in year 10 where she’d yelled at them for being so unnecessarily rude to him.

Looking back, even Lily can admit that he’d probably deserved most of their scorn. And the fact that they’d filled his backpack with jelly just before their GCSEs was kind of funny, in a way.

“None taken. You lot know exactly how I feel about him nowadays.” She looks over at James as she says this, locking eyes with him.

Out of nowhere, James reaches up to cup her face, his thumb gently swiping against the corner of her mouth and lingering on her bottom lip.

“You, er, had a bit of sauce there,” he stammers.

There’s a softness in his eyes that gives Lily pause; how had she never noticed the specks of gold in amongst the hazel before?

Lily isn’t sure what kind of boldness manages to overtake her body, but she finds herself parting her lips slightly, taking James’ thumb in her mouth and gently sucking the aforementioned sauce off of it. Her eyes don't leave his this entire time, and she doesn’t miss the way his pupils dilate as his gaze drops from her eyes to her lips.

Out of nowhere, Lily’s hit with the sudden desire to kiss him. And not in the doing-this-for-show kind of way.

“Damn, you two, save the bedroom eyes for a less public place.”

Thank heavens for Sirius – his words are what finally snap Lily out of her (very odd, completely unexpected) trance. She feels her cheeks heat up, although perhaps not for the reason that Sirius would expect.

What was she thinking? They’re supposed to be putting on a show, yes, but what just happened between the two of them seemed a bit more dramatic than entirely necessary for this sort of thing.

“Sorry,” James mutters, quickly pulling his hand away from Lily.

“Ah, young love,” Sirius responds, sounding a bit more like he’s eighty than eighteen. “Do you remember when we were like that, Remus?”

“You mean like a year ago?” Remus responds dryly, always the realist foil to Sirius’s dramatics.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean,” is Sirius’s resolute response.

They’ve done a near-perfect job of convincing everyone that they’re a couple.

None of the other boys that Lily’s notes got sent to – Benjy, Bertram, Dirk, or Snape – have even tried to approach her. Just a little longer, and her and James will be able to call off this whole ruse and let things go back to the way they used to be.

But for now, she’s earned herself a spot in the girlfriends-plus-Remus club at school football games. It’s nothing but a load of girls wearing their boyfriends’ jerseys during the game and cheering extra loudly when their given boy’s name is mentioned by the announcer, but it still has a note of exclusivity at Hogwarts.

She sits next to Remus, who spends approximately half the game reading and the other half complaining about the referees. When the game pauses for halftime, Remus unexpectedly puts his book down and turns to look at Lily.

“You know, it’s awfully coincidental that you and James just happened to start dating the same weekend those notes of yours got sent out,” he comments.

Lily tries to laugh, but it comes out incredibly forced. “Yeah, funny timing, that.”

“It wasn’t a coincidence, was it?” Remus’ response sounds more like a statement than a question.

“I – it – ” She gives up. “No, it wasn’t.”

Remus’ expression changes, and his tone turns somewhat angry. “So this whole thing is just staged, then. You realize how fucked up that is for James, right? You stringing him along like this?”

“No!” Lily quickly defends. “James knows it isn’t real – he’s in on it.”

The loudspeaker crackles back to life again and the players come back onto the field, signaling the upcoming start of the second half.

“His head may know that, but I’m not so sure about his heart,” comes Remus’ reply.

Lily finds James amongst the Hogwarts team, laughing with Sirius about something as they jog to their respective positions on the football field. Objectively, she can admit that he looks really good in a football uniform.

“I… I don’t know what you mean by that,” she responds.

“Just… don’t go messing him around, yeah?”

Lily’s a little stunned by that – is he having the same conversation with James, or does Remus think that she, in particular, is really just that cruel? She wouldn’t intentionally hurt James – Remus should know that – and she’s actually a bit offended by the accusation.

But instead of fighting him, she gives a simple answer. “I won’t. But you can’t tell anyone the truth, yeah? Not even Sirius.”

“I’m not going tell your secret, Lily,” he promises.

“Thank you.”

The referee throws a yellow flag at Sirius, and the conversation is essentially terminated by Remus’s impassioned shouting of, “The other team did that two minutes ago, where’s their fucking flag!?”

Lily can’t stop thinking about what Remus said to her at the football game.

I’m not so sure about his heart.

James doesn’t fancy her – that’s ridiculous. If he fancied her, he’d be acting differently when they’re alone, wouldn’t they? James has always been an awfully blatant flirt with girls he thinks are fit, and thus far he’s pulled none of those moves on Lily – at least, not when they’re not intentionally doing it for the sake of an audience.

They’re alone at the park down the street from their house, sitting on a ratty blanket and drinking tea out of thermoses. It’s a bit of a tradition for them, this – as soon as it gets warm enough to spend time outside without losing feeling in their fingers, they relocate their study sessions to the park.

“Holy fuck,” James murmurs in the middle of reading something.

“Yes?” Lily replies, fighting off a smile at how affronted James looks by whatever he’s just read.

“So, like, you know how everyone always praises Sigmund Freud for being the father of modern psychology, right?” James says, looking up from his textbook.

Lily nods – she doesn’t take psychology, but she’s definitely heard quite a bit about Freud.

“Well apparently, a lot of his ‘research,’ ” James makes air quotes at this, “was botched for the sake of the men who were paying him. He basically invented hysteria as a psychological disorder out of thin air instead of addressing the legitimacy of women’s trauma. He literally fucked over the entire field of psychology for decades for the sake of not losing money from his clients’ wealthy husbands and fathers.”

James doesn’t get like this – as in, incredibly passionate about obscure academic facts – with people other than Lily. He likes to give off an air of nonchalance when it comes to school, likes to pretend that he’s not secretly a massive nerd about Elizabethan-era literature and psychological studies.

Lily’s always liked that she gets these glimpses at his more intellectual side.

And maybe that’s what does it – what causes her to close the gap between the two of them and press her lips to his.

He doesn’t react immediately, and Lily pulls back. What the hell was she thinking – they’re fake dating, for fuck’s sake. This isn’t part of the deal.

But then he pulls her back to him again, and all boundaries between what’s real and what’s fake completely evaporate.

She threads her fingers through the mess of black hair atop his head – it’s softer than usual, she swears – and tugs on it just a little, eliciting a groan from James as he turns the kiss to an open-mouthed one.

She’s kissed boys before – hell, she’s kissed James before – but this is somehow a totally different experience. Electricity zips through every last inch of her body, setting every nerve ending on fire.

James brings an arm around her waist, shifting their bodies so that she’s laying on the flannel blanket and he’s on top of her. Something’s poking into her back – her chemistry textbook, in all likelihood – but everything else about this situation feels so damn good that a sharp corner is absolutely the last thing she’s thinking about.

How did she never realize that her fake boyfriend was this good at snogging?

Fake.

Fake boyfriend.

Shit.

She puts her hands on James’ shoulders, pushing him away and effectively breaking the kiss. The sudden space between them allows Lily to scramble out from underneath him.

“Lily?”

She refuses to look at him – she knows he’s going to look very freshly snogged, and she doesn’t know what to do with that information. If she doesn’t look at him, she can make herself ignore it. Instead, she quickly grabs all her stuff – it was her chemistry book that she was on top of, after all – and shoves it into her bag.

“I’m sorry,” she blurts out, still refusing to look anywhere but the ground. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

And so she turns on her heel and runs home.

The next morning, James is waiting for her in front of her house, like always.

But instead of spending the walk chatting and laughing, they walk in stony silence, the distance between them palpable.

James finally breaks the silence, a few minutes before they get to school.

“Are we going to talk about this?” he asks, gesturing vaguely between the two of them.

“Nope,” she answers simply.

She still has absolutely no idea where her own head is at – much less his – and she’d very much like to pretend that nothing happened until she reaches that point.

But she still grabs his hand when they turn the corner.

The show must go on, after all.

The rest of the week continues in much of the same fashion – pretending to be fine in public, not speaking at all when they’re alone.

Lily would’ve thought that, by now, she’d have a better understanding of what all this meant. But instead, she’s still just as confused, and has taken to blocking out the memory of that impromptu snogging session instead.

It’s exhausting, all of this at once – keeping up the lie while trying to sort through where the hell her head is at. So much so, that she’s on the verge of skipping Mary McDonald’s party on Saturday night; she probably would’ve actually done so were it not for how affronted Marlene had been when Lily suggested she might bail.

And so she finds herself dressed in a short black skirt and lacy halter top, walking up the drive to the McDonald’s residence with Marlene.

Marlene has spent most of the walk here talking about Mary’s friend Dorcas from another school, who Marlene apparently met at a previous party, and Lily is doing her best to listen, even though her mind is completely occupied with the dread of pretending, again, that she and James are a happy couple.

The ‘couple’ part is easy enough to pull off, but the ‘happy,’ not so much.

“So I’m just hoping she shows up tonight,” Marlene finishes.

“Yeah, I hope she does too,” Lily responds. Someone deserves to have a good time tonight, and Lily has a pretty good feeling it’s not going to be her.

The party’s only just started when Lily and Marlene walk in, but it’s clear that there’s plenty of alcohol to go around. Lily grabs a VK – she can’t stand beer, so this will have to do – and looks around for her fake boyfriend.

“Hiya, Lily!” An overly eager voice reaches her ears, and an arm gets thrown around her shoulders.

“Hi Sirius,” she answers.

It’s obvious that he started drinking long before this party began.

“I don’t know how I’m dating someone who gets drunk by the beginning of the party,” Remus says, coming up beside his boyfriend.

“You loooooove me,” comes Sirius’ eloquent response.

“And do I need to remind you of last year’s New Year’s Eve party?” Lily adds, smirking at Remus. “You two are more alike than you like to think.”

Remus flushes, muttering something about ‘bloody pennies.’

“So, where’s your boyfriend at?” Sirius asks, dropping his arm from around her shoulders. “I haven’t seen him since we got here.”

Lily shrugs. “I haven’t seen him yet either. Have you, Remus?”

“Er, yeah,” he answers. “I, uh, think he’s over by the beer pong table.”

Lily cranes her head to look in that direction, and suddenly understands why Remus sounded so hesitant to tell her where James was.

He’s leaned up against a wall, beer in hand, chatting and laughing with Hestia Jones.

The girl in question flips her long black hair over her shoulder, laughing at something James has just said. Then, she reaches out and places her hand on his bicep. And James, it seems, is doing absolutely nothing to discourage this blatant flirting.

Lily feels like she’s been punched in the gut. And then, the anger bubbles to the surface.

What the hell does he think he’s doing?

She ditches her mostly empty drink on a nearby counter and marches across the room to where James and Hestia are standing.

“Hi, babe,” Lily says, her voice overly saccharine as she wraps an arm around James’ waist. “Can we talk? Alone?”

A mixture of emotions flashes across James’ face, starting with surprise, followed by anger, and ending with resignation. “Sure. We’ll chat later, Hestia, yeah?”

Lily doesn’t even let Hestia answer him before she grabs James’ hand and leads him into the first empty room she can find.

As soon as the door clicks behind her, she rounds on James. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she hisses. “You’re my boyfriend, you’re not supposed to be flirting with other girls.”

“Fake boyfriend, you mean,” James corrects, an unfamiliar coldness to his tone. “And this whole thing between us is going to be ending soon anyways, and as you said yourself, the whole point of this for me was supposed to be to make Hestia a little jealous. So excuse me for trying to get some sort of benefit from this situation.”

Lily scoffs. “Yeah, well you don’t make a girl jealous by openly flirting with her. So really, I’m just helping your cause.”

“Or,” James replies, stepping closer to her, “you’re jealous.”

“I am not jealous. This is a fake relationship, James. I have no reason to be jealous.”

He raises an eyebrow at her. “So why’d you kiss me then? Because you and I both know you initiated that, and it definitely wasn’t part of this whole act you forced me into.”

How dare he act like he didn’t enter into this willingly – like he didn’t go along with the idea almost as soon as she’d proposed it.

“I didn’t force you into anything, James,” she snaps. “You agreed to it. And as for the kiss, I don’t know, okay? It was a moment of weakness, nothing more.”

Saying it like that, out loud, makes it feel more true.

“You mean to say that kiss meant absolutely nothing to you?”

They’re so close that, if Lily really wanted to, she could kiss him again if only she got up on her tiptoes. But the anger in her veins is keeping her grounded to the last shred of rationality she has left, so she stays glued in place.

“Yes? Maybe?” she replies.

James steps back, throwing his hands in the air in frustration. “Then why the fuck did you do it? You just thought it’d be fun to fuck around with me and just run away?”

“That’s not what I was doing!” she cries. She’s reminded of her conversation with Remus again – the one where she swore she wasn’t going to do anything like that.

“Then what were you doing?” he asks accusingly.

Now it’s Lily’s turn to throw her hands in the air. “I don’t fucking know!”

James crosses his arms. “Well, you should probably figure that out.”

“You don’t think I’ve been trying to?” she says, her tone changing from anger to exasperation. “I – fuck, James, this has made things so bloody complicated. I shouldn’t have asked you to do this. I should’ve handled the aftermath of those notes like an adult instead of using you as a cover.”

He scoffs at her. “It’s too fucking late for that now.”

“Yeah, thanks for that,” Lily replies, rolling her eyes, “I hadn’t figured that one out yet.”

There’s a moment of silence between the two of them – stiff and distinctly uncomfortable.

When James opens his mouth again, his voice is softer and full of something that, if Lily had to name it, sounds an awful lot like hurt. “Why didn’t I get one?”

She just blinks at him, unable to find any words.

His voice gets louder. “Am I really that repulsive to you? That you’ve never once in the six years we’ve known each other even thought…? I mean, for fuck’s sake, you included Snape on that list, and you and I both know he’s a misogynistic piece of shit who you don’t even talk to anymore!”

“James, I – ”

He cuts her off. “And I get it that you don’t, like, owe it to me to be attracted to me or anything, but I just... I guess I thought after all these years that you’d feel at least a fraction of the feelings I have for you.”

And before Lily has a chance to reply, or to even begin to process the significance of what James has just said, he’s got his back to her and he’s walking away.

Lily should chase after him, call his name, something – but instead she’s frozen in place, paralysed by some mixture of confusion and fear. She doesn’t even know what she’d say to him anyways.

Lily spends most of Sunday deep in thought – which is awfully counterproductive given how much reading she has set for Physics.

Has James really fancied her for years? It seems so unlikely – he’s dated a few other girls in that time, kissed loads, and flirted with even more. And in all that time, he’d never once tried to pull any moves on Lily.

It just doesn’t add up.

But at the same time, it does. It makes perfect sense. Why James so willingly agreed to something as ludicrous as pretending to date her. Why Remus was so concerned that she was stringing him along.

And in a way, she supposes that’s what she’d been doing. She didn’t mean to do it – didn’t mean to mess him about in the way that she did – but the truth of the matter was that she had.

And for that, she feels overwhemingly guilty.

On Monday morning, James isn’t waiting in front of her house. For the first time in six years, she walks to school alone.

She feels his absence acutely – there’s no one there to make dumb comments and obscure literary references that make her laugh. And there’s no one to grab her hand as they walk into school.

Lily’s a bit surprised by how much she misses that one in particular.

She intentionally avoids James, Remus, Sirius, and Marlene at their usual table, opting instead to go straight to her first period class.

She’s busying herself with organizing her notes when her phone buzzes. It’s Marlene.

Did you and James break up? I ask bc you’re MIA and he looks like shite.

Sort of? I think so.

Typing it out like that has a sort of finality to it, making it so much more real than when the words were just bouncing around in her head.

And it hurts. Even though the relationship wasn’t real, its ending feels like genuine heartbreak. Maybe because, in the process, she might’ve destroyed her friendship with James as well.

And he’s her best friend – one of the single most important people in her entire life.

As the bell rings and the rest of her class starts filing into the classroom, Lily finds herself biting her lip and focusing all of her energy on trying not to cry.

If you want to talk about it, I’m here.

Lily looks at Marlene’s text, and realizes that maybe, just maybe, talking about it with someone is just what she needs to finally process all of this.

You’re a doll. Go off-campus for lunch and chat then?

Sounds like a plan xx

Apparently, rumours of her and James’ ‘break-up’ have spread much farther than just Marlene.

Lily’s gathering up her books from her desk when a familiar figure walks up in front of her.

“Is it true you and Potter broke up?” Snape asks, watching her intently.

“That’s none of your business,” Lily replies coldly. Her morning has already been rough enough without having to deal with him as well.

Snape apparently takes her response as a confirmation. “I knew you two weren’t going to last. You’re too good for the likes of him.”

Lily finds herself suddenly jumping to James’ defense. “If anything, he’s too good for me.”

Snape scoffs. “Unlikely.”

“What, because you think you’re so much better? Because you’re wrong about that.”

Lily starts to walk away, but unfortunately, Snape falls into step with her. “You didn’t seem to think so a few weeks ago,” he says, pulling a pink envelope out of his pocket.

She’s somewhat surprised that he’s held onto the letter for so long – and carries it around in his pocket, for heaven’s sake – but also, she really shouldn’t be surprised by that fact. That sort of obsessive behaviour had always been par for the course with him.

She turns to face him – if they’re going to have this conversation, they’re going to do it face-to-face so that there’s no doubt that she means exactly what she says.

“Severus, I wrote that over a year ago. My sister found it and sent it to you as revenge. So while I might have had an inkling of a crush on you then, I feel absolutely nothing even remotely close to that about you now. I mean, honestly, I fancy that rubbish bin over there more than I fancy you.”

She takes a deep breath before continuing. “Not to mention, James is ten thousand times the man you are; and for the record, I’m the one that fucked up our relationship, not him. So please, for the love of God, leave me alone.”

This. This was the thing she should’ve done all along, instead of forcing James to go along with some stupid plan. She should’ve walked up to Snape and made it clear just how dead her feelings for him really were, and saved everyone a whole lot of trouble.

She turns on her heel and walks down the hall, but not before she notices James out of the corner of her eye, stopped in his tracks, having clearly overheard their entire conversation.

She and Marlene are sitting in a booth at The Three Broomsticks when Lily finally tells the truth about what happened between her and James.

“So you’re telling me… everything between you two was entirely staged?” Marlene’s staring at her in disbelief.

Lily takes a sip of her extra-large chocolate milkshake. “Yes? In a sense? But I think some lines got blurred on both sides and we both kind of forgot what was real and what wasn’t.”

“So what’s the issue then? Why don’t you just turn it into a real relationship instead of a fake one?”

Lily sighs. “Because I don’t know how I feel about him. I mean, he’s definitely one of my best friends, and he’s definitely one of the best snogs I’ve ever had, but I don’t know if that means we’d be good in a relationship.”

“Bullshit,” Marlene replies immediately. “A best friend who you’ve also got great sexual chemistry with? You literally just described everyone’s dream, Lily. And fucking hell, I know you two were faking the relationship, but I refuse to believe the way you two would look at each other wasn’t real – no one is that good at acting, much less you and James.”

She stuffs a chip in her mouth before continuing. “Also, you said you wrote that list of boys to see if you’ve got a type? Well, good news for you, I can confirm that you most definitely have a type. It’s James.”

Lily cocks her head at her friend, wanting an explanation for this.

“James is literally a mashup of all the things you liked best about all those boys. He’s got Benjy’s sweetness, Remus’ passion about things, Bertram’s whole hot-body-and-great-brain combo, Dirk’s sense of humour, and the close friendship you had with Snape. Face it, Lily, he’s basically what would happen if Build-a-Bear had a boyfriend option.”

Lily abruptly stops slurping her milkshake. She can’t deny that Marlene makes a really good point. “You really think so?”

“I do,” she replies. “And here’s another hot take, while we’re at it: you’ve fancied James for years, even if you yourself didn’t realize it. And you didn’t realize it because what you feel for James is different than what you’ve felt for any of those boys you wrote on your stupid list – those were fleeting little crushes that were never actually destined to turn into anything. But James… that’s so much bigger than a flimsy little fling.”

When Marlene says it, it makes a lot of sense. James has always felt like comfort, like the best part of her day, like coming home. And kissing him may have given her butterflies, but it also just felt right.

But admitting that to herself, admitting that she has feelings for him that extend way beyond friendship, and that those feelings have been there for a while – that’s terrifying.

Especially because it means she may have hurt James for absolutely no reason other than her own denial and stubbornness.

“So, say you’re right,” Lily answers, not wanting to give Marlene the satisfaction of letting her know that she’s read Lily like a book, “what do I do?”

Marlene considers this for a moment. “As fun as playing therapist is, this is something you’ve got to figure out on your own.”

It only takes until the end of the school day for Lily to confirm that Marlene was, somehow, one hundred percent correct in her assessment of Lily’s feelings.

This is partially due to the fact that she sits exactly two seats behind James in Further Mathematics, and so she’s basically given a free pass to spend the entire class period watching him.

And everything he does is somehow incredibly endearing, from sticking his pencil behind his ear in between writing notes, to the times he ruffles up his hair while he’s deep in thought about something, and the one time he somehow tries to do both things at once and his pencil gets knocked to the floor as a result and he has to scramble to grab it.

This also comes with the realization that she has fucked things up. A lot.

And she’s not entirely sure how to fix them. How to fix the way James looked at her when he brought out years of emotion all at once, in one, painful little question.

Why didn’t I get one?

That one sentence rings in her head, all throughout her afternoon classes and throughout most of her walk home. Which is incredibly emotionally frustrating for Lily, as guilt-ridden as she already is, but it also eventually works out in her favour, because it gives her an idea.

Halfway home, she starts running. And she’s not an athlete by any means, so she’s winded as hell when she gets home, but that doesn’t stop her from flying up the stairs to her bedroom, getting out a piece of paper and a bright red ballpoint pen.

Reasons I Fancy James Potter:

She writes the title on the page, but this time, instead of writing bullet points, she writes paragraphs. She writes about the way he always knows how to make her laugh, his impassioned rants about the most minutiae details of academia, how fit he looks in his football uniform, that he’s one of the most important people in her life.

And once she’s taken up almost the entire page with her ramblings, she adds a note at the bottom.

You didn’t get a note. I reality, you deserved a whole damn page (and probably more, but my hand’s tired). I’m sorry. I’ll be at the park tonight if you’re willing to let me apologise in person too.

Love, Lily Evans

She leaves the letter in a pink envelope on James’ front porch, so that hopefully he’ll see it when he gets home from practise, and she takes her biology notes with her to the park up the street.

James is the owner of the blanket they always use, and Lily doesn’t fancy sitting in the damp grass without it, so she sits on the swingset instead. There aren’t any children on the little community playground today, so she doesn’t feel guilty for occupying a space not meant for her.

She’s rereading a section about ATP synthesis and straining her eyes against the fading sunlight when someone else enters the playground area.

“Aren’t you a little old for swingsets, Evans?” James asks. He’s got one hand in the pocket of his joggers, and the other is holding a pink square that is definitely Lily’s letter.

“On the contrary, there’s no such thing as being too old for swingsets,” she answers solemnly.

“In that case,” he replies, gesturing to the swing next to her, “is this one taken?”

“All yours.”

He sits in it, and it’s almost comical how long his legs are in comparison to the height of the swing. He pushes off with his heels, moving slowly back and forth. “I heard your conversation with Snape today.”

“So I saw,” she says. “It’s what I should’ve done from the beginning.”

James lets out a soft hum, twiddling the pink envelope between his fingers. “So, this letter. You meant it?”

Lily looks over at him. “Every word.”

James’ eyes stay trained on his feet. “Then why’d you do it? Why’d you push me away after you kissed me?”

“Because I was scared,” she replies. “Because it’s one thing to have flimsy crushes on people that won’t ever turn into anything, and it’s a totally different thing to feel what I feel for you. And denial was just… easier. Safer.”

“You know I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

Lily laughs, a bit bitterly. “And you know, I said that to Remus a few weeks ago, and I ended up hurting you anyways.”

“So what does that mean for us, then?” James asks.

“It means I’m still a little scared,” Lily answers truthfully. “But it also means that I think I’m a little bit in love with you, and that this… thing between us is so much bigger than fear.”

Lily suddenly feels herself being yanked sideways, and it takes her a moment to realize that James has grabbed onto the chain of her swing and pulled it towards him so that they’re face-to-face.

“Say that middle part again.”

“That I’m still a little scared?” she says, teasingly.

He rolls his eyes at her. “You know the one I’m talking about.”

“That I’m a little bit in love with you?”

“Jackpot.”

And then he kisses her.

They don’t stay like that for long, because swings aren’t exactly conducive to proper kissing, so Lily soon finds herself on James’ lap, running her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck as his grip against her hips tightens.

And it’s just as wonderful as before, except now it’s even more wonderful, because this time, it’s all real.

“I’m a little bit in love with you too, Lily Evans,” James murmurs against her skin, and Lily’s skin burns as he presses kisses along her jawline.

She tilts her head back to allow James better access to her neck, but apparently, this weight shift, combined with the fact that there are two fully-grown teenagers on a swing designed for children, causes the swingset to creak loudly.

Lily jumps up, slightly terrified that the structure is about to collapse on the both of them. She extends a hand to James. “Let’s take this somewhere where we aren’t at risk of breaking a public playground.”

He grabs her hand and pushes himself up to standing. “Probably a safe decision.”

“I do have a question for you though,” she adds.

“Okay, shoot.”

She steps closer to him. “James Potter, will you be my boyfriend? For real, this time?”

He grins at her, and his delight is contagious. “Only if there’s a pack of deer-shaped lollies thrown in.”

She laughs, wrapping an arm around his middle and leaning in to him. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Good, the lollies were a deal-breaker,” he replies cheekily, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as they make their way out of the playground.

Lily rolls her eyes. “I figured as much.”

#harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #hp fic #jily fanfiction #jily fanfic #james potter #lily evans #jily au #jily fic #tatbilb au #high school au #fake dating #friends to lovers #literally all the tropes #james and lily

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doesntmakeitalright · 6 years

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This is a story about somebody I had a huge crush on for years. Disclaimer, contains teen themes. I joined orchestra as a violist halfway through my sophomore year. He played the cello, but he’s one of the first people I remember meeting. He was a super friendly, outgoing, funny person. He made class a joy to be in. I couldn’t believe I had never met him before, we were in the same grade! My stand partner and I were both just kinda obsessed with him in the most innocent way. Like, life was just a brighter place with him in it. The next year, we had German 2 together AND orchestra. On the first day of german class, when he came in, I exclaimed “Eddie!!!!! Sit with me!!!!!!” and he did!! I got butterflies before German every single day that year just knowing he was going to sit next to me. I started to wonder if there was any chance that he liked me. I got his phone number as Christmas was approaching and I texted him as much as possible. One day as I sat by the Christmas tree as it was getting dark, I decided to tell him that I liked him. He didn’t really feel the same way but he was so nice about it and I was still so obsessed with him. I listened to Last Christmas by Wham alot during that week so now that’s what the song always reminds me of. I didn’t want to give up yet, so I asked him if we could spend a day together and kiss one time. He wanted to, he said he even wanted to do more than that. My head spun for days imagining the date we could have. I imagined going to the Delmar Loop (an outdoor area nearby with lots of shops and restaurants) after dark and holding hands in the cold as we strolled up and down the block. Most of all, I imagined sharing the most romantic kiss of my life in front of dimly lit Christmas lights, the December air blowing all around us. We planned a day. When the day came, he changed his mind. I didn’t have hard feelings, but it hurt so bad. I believe in my heart that he did it for me though, to save me the pain of having only one date with somebody that I liked so much. I thought I was stupid for even thinking he would like me. We didn’t have much in common other than the classes we took and a sense of humor. The pain lasted for a long time. I bought him a dream catcher as a Christmas present, and went back to trying to act more normal around him after that. He never once started to treat me different. I wanted to get over him after that, but I just couldn’t help being happy as fuck any time he was around. I still wanted him to like me. I made myself available to him as a friend and tried to cheer him up any time he was upset. He told me multiple times that I was a great friend to him and that made me happy. By my senior year, I was almost crazy. My ovaries would basically be burning when he would be around lol. I wanted to just grab him and kiss him and never stop. I would still look for any excuse to be near him or to talk to him, but he was more distant than ever. I still didn’t want to give up. On a field trip, we took that first picture together. It was one of the happiest moments of my life and it really shows on my face. At the end of the year, the orchestra went on a trip to Chicago. I talked to him on the bus as much as I possibly could. Things were going well. Then, one of the nights there, we were getting on the bus to go back to the hotel and he seemed very upset. I asked him if I could sit next to him and he said sure, so I did. He started putting his headphones on, so desperately trying to think, I asked him if I could listen to his music with him. He said no. I turned away from him and cried hysterically because I was drunk lmao 😂 I had tons of real ventures going for me at the time but still chose to cry about him lmao. When we graduated, I really figured that I would never see him again, but I was wrong. Two years later, I hit him up on a summer afternoon and to my surprise he was down to hang out. I picked him up and we hung out in South city and ate at my favorite diner. We got drunk together on fireball. You would never guess it was our first time hanging out. We started driving and wound up in Illinois. I don’t know why, but I literally pulled over to the side of the highway and we rolled around in the grass together. He said, “we could be in Chicago in like, 4 hours.” And I said, “let’s go!!!!!!” and sure enough, we drove all the way to Chicago. We jammed out to music the entire time. Everything from Fall Out Boy to Lana del Rey. When we got there, it was night time. We literally bought a Papa John’s pizza, smashed it, and started heading back home, not even an hour later. Lmfao. We pulled into a rural truck stop and decided we would need to rest for a while. Then, suddenly, I looked him in the eyes and we just kissed for a minute. It wasn’t the romantic kiss I imagined all those years ago, but it was enough to finally grant me closure. It was enough. It was amazing. After I started to doze off, he decided he wanted to start driving home again, so we could make it back by the next day. I slept most of the way back. I woke up to him saying my name. I opened my eyes and took in a perfect, full view of the St. Louis skyline as Video Games by Lana del Rey started playing in the background. The sun was rising. It was a magical moment.

#story time #nostalgic #memories #me #age 16 #age 17 #age 19 #high school #personal

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bapdirt · 6 years

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hey, i'm not sure if you're still taking these but if you still do the otp questions, can you do them for himup and younglo? :) if not, just ignore this, haha.

1) Who rocks the Ferris Wheel seat and who flips out and begs them to stop?Himup: Jongup rocks the seat, Himchan yells and hits his arm until he stops.Younglo: Zelo rocks the seat by accident and freaks himself out, Youngjae starts doing it to see him freak out.2) Who is always horny and will have sex at any time, at any place and at any time?Himup: They’re both up for it, Jongup likes doing it in riskier spots though.Younglo: Youngjae likes to get Zelo excited until he’s willing to sneak off to have sex, or hurry home.3) Who is more into taking showers/baths together? Who tries to make it relaxing and who tries to make it sexy time?Himup: Himchan likes the baths, it gives him time to wind down with Jongup. Jongup likes the shower so he can do a little dance while he listens to music, but he’s the one to start washing Himchan’s back, next thing you know they’re fucking.Younglo: zelo likes to have a bath at the end of the day, sees it as a chance to get off with Youngjae before bed.

4) Who likes to walk around the house naked and who tells the other to go put some clothes on?Himup: Jongup really doesn’t care for clothes around the house. Himchan doesn’t mind.Younglo: Zelo walks around naked, Youngjae asks him to at least wear shorts, his mother would catch a heart attack if she knew what Youngjae was seeing on a daily basis.5) Who sleeps on the couch when they get into a fight?Himup: Jongup likes to sleep on the couch anyway, and he likes to give Himchan his space after an argument.Younglo: Zelo stomps off to the couch even though Youngjae asks him not to.6) Who takes photos of the other while they sleep?Himup: Himchan has a folder just for Jongup. Jongup, unknown to Himchan, has more pictures.Younglo: Youngjae likes to take videos of himself fucking with Junhong and sends it to be group chat.7) Who said “I love you” first? and who ends their arguments in a fight with “Because I love you”?Himup: Jongup said it first, he was drunk and honest. Himchan ends the argument with that sentence, Jongup folds most of the time.Younglo: Youngjae admitted it first because it’s just how he feels and he knows Zelo feels the same. He also ends his arguments with that line, but it’s more sarcastic than anything.8) Who likes to wear the others sweatshirts?Himup: Himchan has the habit of stealing clothes, period, so Jongup ends up with half his sweatshirts missing.Younglo: Zelo tries to wear Youngjae’s sweatshirts but only the oversized ones fit him correctly. 9) Who wakes the other up in the middle of the night to tell them a cool dream they had? Who has the most nightmares, and who sings them back to sleep after?Himup: Jongup might wake Himchan up if the dream stays on his mind. Himchan has the most nightmares and Jongup talks until he falls back to sleep.Younglo: Zelo wakes Youngjae up with weird dreams and nightmares. Youngjae winds him back to sleep.10) Who is more likely to cheat?Himup: Neither.Younglo: Neither. They both have trust issues already.11) Who makes fun of the other for having a crush on them, and who has to remind them that they are in a relationship?Himup: Himchan makes fun of Jongup for having a crush on him, Jongup doesn’t even care to remind him that they’re together.

Younglo: Youngjae teases Zelo about how infatuated he was in the beginning, Zelo reminds him that Youngjae confessed to him first.12) Who starts a food fight in the kitchen?

Himup: Jongup starts it, Himchan ends it.

Younglo: Youngjae starts it and is somehow surprised when Zelo fights back.

13) Who initiates duets? and who is the better singer?

Himup: Himchan tries to start it but Jongup isn’t having it. Their voices compliment each other.

Younglo: Youngjae tries to get Zelo to sing, he thinks he actually has a really nice voice.

14) Who starts the hand holding? Who grabs the others butt? Who slides their arm around their waist? Who likes to put their fingers in the belt loops?

Himup: Himchan for like all of those. Jongup likes hand holding in private and putting an arm around Himchan’s shoulder.

Younglo: Youngjae attacks this boy with affection all the time. When Zelo tries to do the same Youngjae sometimes rejects him.

15) Who likes writes the others name on their wrist?

Himup: Jongup likes to write Himchan’s name in messy scrawl and then wash it away not too long after.

Younglo: Zelo writes Youngjae across his own palms and wrists, likes to send pictures to him if he can work up the nerve. Youngjae calls him an idiot but saves all the pictures anyway.

16) Who is more seductive when they are drunk? and who is louder in bed?

Himup: Himchan. He talks a lot. Jongup is shy but he’ll make some noise when he’s really into it.

Younglo: Zelo, though they’re both on the more quiet side, whispers and soft moans.

17) Who is more protective?

Himup: Himchan, overly so. Jongup doesn’t mind.

Younglo: Youngjae because he’s been watching over Zelo for a long time. Zelo has a mean streak when that childish jealousy hits though.

18) Who talks to the other while they are sleeping?

Himup: Himchan. Never. Stops. Talking. Jongup’s said this before himself lmao

Younglo: Youngjae ends up talking to himself until he finally notices that Zelo has drifted off to sleep. Then he’ll stop.

19) Who drives and who has the window seat?

Himup: Himchan drives, Jongup stares out the window, music playing.

Younglo: Youngjae drives and Zelo watches him, records him while driving. Lots of half finished videos of Youngjae’s smiling face before he slaps the phone out of his hand.

20) Who falls asleep in the others lap and who carries them to bed?

Himup: Himchan falls asleep in Jongup’s lap while they watch something on tv, or while Jongup is playing on his phone. He doesn’t move him, he’ll stay still until Himchan wakes up and drags them both to bed.

Younglo: Zelo likes to curl himself up in Youngjae’s lap as much as possible. A lot of time on the weekends is spent like this.

21) Who cuts the others hair?

Himup: Jongup let Himchan cut his hair once and never again. Their stylists is the only reason he stopped letting him do it.

Younglo: Neither. Youngjae wouldn’t dare let Zelo cut his hair and he wouldn’t want to mess with Junhong’s either.

22) Who is super bad at sexting? and who sends them encouraging messages throughout the day?

Himup: Jongup forgets to respond to sexts, he doesn’t mean to, Himchan gets embarrassed if it’s too much and tells Jongup to stop sometimes. Himchan sends encouraging messages throughout the day, Jongup responds to those.

Younglo: Zelo is bad at sexting, frets over what to send back if he can’t send nudes. Youngjae wants him to widen his vocabulary. Zelo sends encouraging messages and silly pictures to cheer Youngjae up.

23) Who thinks they are not good enough for the others love? and who’s more afraid of losing the other? Who thinks they keep messing up, only for the other to tell them they don’t need to worry?

Himup: They both of times where they doubt they’re enough of the other. It’s easier for Himchan to express the way he feels to Jongup, but Himchan has to watch for certain signs when it comes to Jongup.

Younglo: Zelo has moments when he wants to back out so he acts out of character, self deprecating jokes and low moods. Youngjae assures him that he’s good enough, that’s why he’s with him.

24) Who starts random slow dancing with the other in the kitchen? Who holds the other just above the ground and kisses them?

Himup: Jongup starts slow dancing with Himchan in the kitchen just to make him laugh, but then they end up swaying there for an hour to one of their playlists. Dinner burns. They don’t pick each other up.

Younglo: They like to start slow dancing with each other, but Youngjae does it seriously and Zelo gets embarrassed. He picks Youngjae up just to spite him.

25) Who says shitty puns and sex jokes just to see the other giggle and blush?

Himup: Himchan has a dirty mouth, okay? Always ready with the sex jokes, but he ends up blushing and giggling at the end of them with Jongup, too.

Younglo: Youngjae has the occasional sex joke, but shitty ass puns aplenty. Junhong hides his face if it’s too much but he’ll have a dirty joke to tell at the wrong time himself.

26) Who kissed first?

Himup: They went in at the same time. One look shared and they kinda went for it. Their teeth knocked together on the first try.

Younglo: Youngjae asks to kiss him first, Junhong turns his face away to laugh each time Youngjae tried until he got cursed at.

27) Who orders take out at two in a morning? and who wakes the other up at three in the morning to go downstairs with them to get a glass of water because it’s too dark?

Himup: Jongup orders food at two in the morning because McDonald’s is open 24/7 near the apartment. What else does he have to do. Himchan makes him get a glass of water since he always wants to be up at ass o’clock in the morning.

Younglo: Zelo orders food, Youngjae adds on his own stuff so he doesn’t mind when the delivery man comes knocking at weird times. Zelo begs Youngjae for a glass of water when it’s too dark.

28) Who writes poems/stories and love songs about the other? Do they sing the songs they write for them?

Himup: Jongup writes about Himchan when he’s feeling particularly affectionate but Himchan isn’t there, or he doesn’t want to say what’s on his mind. He doesn’t sing them though. Maybe.

Younglo: Zelo would write about Youngjae a lot, too embarrassed to say so. Might put one line into a song that’s he’s releasing if it isn’t obvious. Youngjae likes to sing his songs to Zelo, though.

29) Who does some crazy stunt to try and impress the other and who ends up driving them to the emergency room after it backfires?

Himup: Himchan tends to do stupid shit and end up hurting himself. Jongup never has to take him to the hospital, but he has to work kinks out of Himchan’s back later.

Younglo: Zelo had to go to the doctor after pulling a muscle. Youngjae drove there in a frenzy after Junhong tried to do a triple back flip

30) Who is embarrassed when they have to wear their glasses and who thinks they look super cute?

Himup: JONGUP. He thinks they’re a hassle to wear but his prescribed glasses are goofy. Himchan wants him to wear them more often, has like a hundred pictures of him with them on.

Younglo: Neither of them are embarrassed. They like glasses actually.

#these are long #himup #younglo #otp questions #long time no see #college is killing me #I’ll be back writing soon #until then I’ll do whatever else

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