#I HAD TO TAKE MY EARBUD OUT AND LOOK AROUND LIKE A MADMAN BECAUSE I WAS SO CONFUSED

[uncanny-tranny]

Actually, my new favourite thing to do to heal is to fall in love with a piece of humanity. How could I hate this world when I am so in love with it?

[sweetcheol]

college boyfriend!sehun

—genre: fluff

—au: college, friends to lovers

—pairing: oh sehun x reader

—song to listen to while reading: fall again — klang

—word count: 2.2k

—warning(s): mentions of sex, sehunnie being the best boyfriend ever, choking on chips ??? (but it’s nothing bad, i promise)

sehun was your netflix binging partner before he was even your friend

okay ... he was your netflix binging partner before you even knew his name

you guys were in an ethics class together

and it was one of those common classes everyone in uni had to take no matter their major, so it was like 60 of you in a huge ass classroom

so you resorted to the only alternative to keeping you awake during 2 hour long, powerpoint based, boring lectures: 

yoy got the best out of your netflix subscription plan

god bless airpods bc you could just hide them with your hair and nobody ever noticed anything

except for sehun

who conveniently sat one seat to the left on the row above you

so he had the perfect view to your laptop screen

and had watched the whole fifth season of peaky blinders with you

of course he never told you bc that... that would have been kind of weird

so he just kept to himself and tried his best to keep on being your anonymous netflix partner

he had even started to buy himself some snacks to munch on during class and was truly living his best life

until you finished peaky blinders ... and were about to start watching crash landing on you

sehun just ... sehun loved that show, okay?

so when he saw the intro pop on your laptop he started choking on his shrimp chips, creating a commotion

like ... even the professor stopped talking and asked him if he was okay, causing everyone to turn around and face him

red-faced, choking him

even you, who had paused the show and turned around in your seat so quickly he thought you’d cracked your neck

and in that moment, sehun did the only thing he could think of

which in that case meant bolting straight out of the classroom coughing like a madman

and just like the concerned netflix partner classmate you were, you had walked out right after him

“yah! don’t run, let me help you!”

and tbh ... sehun had never expected to turn around and come face to face with you, holding a bottle of water for him to sip on

that alone helped him stop coughing

he reluctantly accepted the water while turning beet red in the face

so the two of you sat down on a set of stairs that were near the classroom while sehun drank his water

he was trying his best to zone you out, eyes set on the floor and only focusing on the bottle in his hand

bc that had been ... embarrassing, to say the least

and he had asked you, in the smallest voice possible to please wait until class was over to pick ur things up bc he didn’t wanna go in and then interrupt the lecture again

so you granted him his wish

and when people started piling out of the classroom, you were like well

and sehun didn’t even say anything to u before he walked back inside, took his backpack with him and walked away

so you were like ???? as you stashed your laptop in ur bag and walked back to your dorm

you didn’t see him the next class

and since the room was so big you were like wtf did he sit someplace else

you couldn’t even watch your show in peace that day bc ... what had you even done to him

the lesson after that ... you were resigned

whatever was his problem you wouldn’t mind

but then someone placed a blue thunder gatorade on your desk with a hot pink post it pasted on the cap

“spare airpod ???”

and sehun was sat on the chair next to yours, drinking from his own gatorade bottle while he waited for your response

so you fished the earbuds from your bag and extended your hand, one of them resting on your palm

sehun took it

and the two of you watched the third episode of the show together

the two of u didn’t speak much though

he’d muttered a soft “thank you” when returning the airpod when class was done and that was it

but then he sat next to you the following lesson

and the next one

and the next one

a couple of weeks after that he started giving you bags of chips and cookies alongside the gatorade

until you had finished a couple of dramas

... and the semester

the two of you were quite bummed the last day of classes

bc neither of you had seen the other one in any other classes so you were sure you weren’t in the same major

and sehun had only said “it was very nice meeting you” after the last class was over

and that was it

or u thought

until half-way through the summer, you had finally found enough willpower to clean your backpack

and had found a cute little note on the bottom of it

from none other but your cute, tall classmate

“maybe we could hang out and actually talk sometime?” alongside his phone number

and at first you were like oh a month has gone by, he won’t remember me

but then you wrote a simple “hey, it’s (y/n) from ethics”

and sehun almost ... choked once again when he read it

bc he though you just weren’t going to text him at all

and so the two of you started talking

he was very funny and easy-going, so you became friends pretty fast

you texted all through-out the summer

and ofc sehun told chanyeol, his best friend and roomate, about it

which prompted chanyeol to tease him 24/7 abt how he should just ask you out

and sehun was like “it’s not like that”

but everyone could see it was like that

so sehun was like ... okay i might

and he was like “so i was thinking ... maybe we could go to the movies”

and you were like !!!!!! red code !!!!!! alert !!!!!! oh my gOD 

bc you had been like ... crushing on him ever since the chip incident

and answered him like “yeah that’d be nice” 

a few days after you went to the movies

and were both a mess at first but the date actually turned out pretty well bc you went for dinner afterwards and everything ran out pretty smoothly

sehun was like OOOOOOH YEAH I’M UR BOYFRIEND NOW ... right after he walked you to your door

but you weren’t complaining bc you liked him a lot too

SO NOW

onto the relationship

ngl you are like low-key done with him the week after you start dating bc he is ... a little shit

like if he feels he isn’t getting enough attention he’ll go like “(y/n) that’s so unfaiiiiiiiiir”

but then he’ll start playing around with vivi and you’re standing there like okAY

and if you tell him he’ll get all sassy and go like “i knEW u just can’t live without me”

but then when you spend enough time with vivi and he starts running to you instead of sehun ... he goes like “wAIT (y/n) he’s MY son wtf”

but inside he’s like “that’s OUR son oh my god” 

gets low-key jealous of all the lead actors of the dramas you watch together

like suddenly you’ll turn around and he’s pouting 

but he forgets about it halfway through the episode

even though you two aren’t in the same class anymore he likes studying together

and is always buying snacks for your study dates

he’ll study for like 15 min and then will start pouting bc he wants kisses

wears a lot of hoodies and sweatpants but will also clean up somedays bc he wants to look nice for you

will very subtly leave his hoodies at your dorm

he thinks it’s romantiquè

and you’re very grateful for it bc he’s very tall and thus his hoodies are very cozy

you kinda want to kill him sometimes but he’s definitely the kind of guy that calls you at three am just because he wants to talk to you“i just wanted to hear your voice”

and he’s just laying in his bed smiling like a fool while you tell him about your day

you both end up constantly falling asleep over the phone but neither of you mind

and then chanyeol enters the apartment and sees him passed out on the couch with his phone in hand and your name on his screen 

it’s safe to say sehun’s not going to live it down

i don’t think he’d be a big fan of pda

so in public, you kinda only hold hands

he might give you a little kiss from time to time but that’s pretty much it

oh but in private ... he can’t keep his hands off you

and your butt

he gives the best hugs ever??? and it doesn’t help that he loves hugging you

forehead kisses

so so so many forehead kisses

definitely takes advantage of his height

for that, and for placing stuff on high places so that he has to help you on getting them down

lowkey touches your butt when he’s doing it

okay but when you’re ... doing the do

sehun’s a switch

i feel like he’d either be such a whiny sub or a very ... whiny dom (but he’d still be very soft ngl) 

(i mean he’s the spoiled maknae for a reason)

favorite thing ever is when you ride him and he can just hold your hips really tight and guide your movements so they can match his

moans so fucking loud you’re sure your entire floor can hear the two of you

i’m not sure he’d be a very kinky lover

like i feel he’d be pretty vanilla

but i mean ... he dances ... his hips can ... do things

so it’s not like it’s anything bad, you know ????

a huge fan of hickeys

but on more ... private places

like he’ll never leave one on your neck

but your chest is a completely different story

bc he doesn’t leave them so that people can see them

he leaves them so he can see them and remind himself that you’re his

that you chose him

that was really sappy

he’s a dance major

and he’s always asking you to go with him to practices

both bc he loves being with you and bc he likes it when you watch him dance

he’s a tease and we all know it

he’d run his hands over his hair and smirk all the time bc he knows you’re looking at him

sometimes he even takes off his shirt and acts like it’s just bc of the heat

and you blush so hard and he’s just like 😌

but also when he has a show or presentation or something

he gets so so so so nervous

but then he spots you in the crowd and just smile a bit bc you’re there, supporting him, and that’s all that matters

his phone background is this selfie the two of you with face masks on

you had your hair up in a bun and both of you were lounging in sweats

you had been playing around with snapchat filters and accidentally took the sweetest photo ever

so he asked you to send it to him

and he set it up as both his lock screen and his home screen

yours is a mirror selfie you took when you were watching him practice

you were taking a photo and when sehun noticed he came to give you a kiss on the cheek

and it was the sweetest thing ever

he literally sends you each and every selfie he takes

and sometimes goes like “hey does this look okay?”

and sometimes it’s more like “your boyfriend is so hot wth”

and just as he takes so many selfies so he can send them to you

he also likes taking photos with you

literally everywhere you two go

he either takes a selfie or asks someone to take a picture of you

and everyone he asks always thinks you’re the most adorable couple ever

bc the love you two have for each other is like so obviously there

and he gets so soft whenever people tell him that

even when it’s chanyeol who says it

truth is chanyeol loves you because of how happy you make sehun

he once told you when you got back home from a club

and like ... you were kinda, slightly, a little bit drunk

and hearing him say that only made you feel like you were walking on clouds even more

bc if anyone asked you to describe just how happy sehun made you ... you were sure you weren’t going to find enough words to describe the feeling

even though he usually is like hell yeah i’m a cool bf

he gets really sappy at night (and when’s drunk) 

and goes on and on about how much he loves you and he’s happy he found you

bc you always get that look in your eyes that make his heart melt

bc he’s the sweetest boyfriend ever

and it doesn’t help that he’s my ult bias bc i reallyyyyyyyy wanna date college!boyfriend sehun 🤧

[amandaoftherosemire]

For She Had Eyes...

Fandom: Marvel Avengers AU

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Characters: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, Unnamed OFC!Hallway Blonde

Author: @amandaoftherosemire​

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5,146

Format: Two-part series

Warning: Smut, 18+ only, language, unintentional voyeurism, female masturbation, mild angst, embarrassment.

Summary: After accidentally catching Steve in an intimate moment, you can’t stop thinking about it.

A/N: This was inspired by a piece of fanart that I saw that I can’t find now to save my damn life. It was of Steve and Sharon against a wall, mostly clothed, him in a tux and her in a red dress, and I loved it. (If anyone knows what I’m talking about, please let me know so I can credit the artist.)

However, I personally hate how the fandom has treated Sharon Carter at times, so I tend not to vilify her if I can help it. To be clear, Hallway Blonde is NOT Sharon Carter.

I only split this into two parts because of the word count. It was one of those stories that showed up in my brain and wouldn’t shut up until I got it out of there and out of the way. I hope y’all like it!

For She Had Eyes

You didn’t mean to do it. You weren’t trying to peep. But jeez, if he didn’t want anyone to see, then why the hell was he in one of the corridors? Not that you were complaining. You were, but about the fact that you had to stop watching. Really. You had to. In a second.

You'd been heading back to your rooms from the communal kitchen after you’d woken up starving and embarked on an after-midnight foraging expedition. With the slice of pie and the soda you’d acquired, you were quietly padding back to your rooms when the gasping breaths and soft slap of flesh on flesh alerted you to someone else’s presence and their probable current activity.

Expecting Bucky or even Sam, you’d put your training to use and snuck toward the sound rather than away in the hopes of witnessing something you could leverage against them later. They were fun guys, but you needed any ammunition you could get in the unending friendly battle. Catching them in the act of either getting laid or making do could be excellent ammunition.

Which may be why you'd frozen when you peeked around the corner to one of the corridors in the private areas to spy Steve there with some blonde you only vaguely recognized pinned against the wall.

Your eyes widened, but you didn't move, greedily drinking in the sight of Steve, mostly dressed, as he pounded silently into the woman panting in his arms. You knew you should leave, as quietly as possible, respecting Steve's privacy. You stayed, however, for far longer than you were proud of, imprinting the image of Steve in the throes of passion on your retinas.

Though the light was dim, there was more than enough for you to see that Steve Rogers was fucking beautiful lost in pleasure.

His high cheekbones were flushed gorgeous pink, sharp jaw clenched, cheek muscle twitching. His long fingers dug into the woman’s thighs to hold her up and against the wall, in place for his thrusting hips. You could see the muscles of his thighs and ass flexing as he slammed harder into her, driving muffled gasps of pleasure from her lips.

You were grateful for that, as her sounds would hopefully mask your speeding breathing and racing heart. With one last, too long look, drawn by Steve's speeding thrusts, you drug your eyes and self away. You retreated as silently as you had come, praying neither of them had noticed your presence.

Once you thought you were far enough away, you took off running as best you could to your rooms, taking the long way around to avoid Steve and his companion at all costs. Back behind the closed door of your rooms, you dropped the pie and soda you still carried on your coffee table and ran to your bedroom.

In the privacy of your bed, you let your body rule. Sliding your hand between your thighs, you let yourself imagine being in the blonde’s place, your flesh between Steve’s teeth, your arms around his neck, your hands in his hair. As you began to rub circles into your clit, you envisioned Steve’s hands digging into the flesh of your thighs, holding you up and open for the slam of his hips against yours, driving his cock into you with the same relentless rhythm you’d just witnessed. Between your own fevered imaginings and the heated scene seared into your memory, you were coming in no time flat.

With a shuddering moan, you climaxed imagining Steve’s eyes on yours as he fucked you like a madman against a wall.

A while later, despite your physical satisfaction, you stared at the ceiling in horror.

How were you going to face him tomorrow?

You decided not to. Face him, that is. You opted instead to avoid any kind of social setting that day, pretending general surliness to keep everyone, but most especially Steve, at arm’s length.

You skipped breakfast entirely, not wanting to have to make small talk with anyone when you knew you’d be too busy remembering the line of Steve’s jaw as it clenched in passion. You waited until you knew much of the team would be in the gym before you joined them. To make sure you could avoid any interactions, you’d put on your leave-me-alone aura.

When you'd first joined the team, you'd made it clear that there would be days that you needed to be left alone. Those days were signified by the enormous gray hoodie enveloping your torso. Today you wore it over workout gear. You'd pulled the hood up, slid sunglasses onto your nose, and put earbuds into your ears before you'd walked through the door.

Every eye in the room turned toward you, recognized the hoodie and slid away as you crossed toward the outside door. Everyone knew you jogged by yourself on gray hoodie days. Since you studiously did not look at him as you walked out, you didn't see that Steve's eyes stayed on you, his gaze darkening as you left.

Steve's mood, already dark and mean, blackened viciously. With a snarl, he turned on the punching bag Bucky was holding for him. Bucky merely lifted a brow, easily reading Steve's moods. He could always tell when Steve had let his ex-girlfriend get her hooks into him again.

Steve was cursing himself. He'd known better than to let her drag him back in, even for a night, but the craving for you had been riding him hard when she'd texted. He'd been watching you take turns tossing popcorn and catching it in your mouth with Bucky while you debated movie choices with Sam and his heart had been sighing romantically at how sweet and beautiful he thought you were.

He also thought you firmly off-limits. Not only were you a member of his team, and that was no small matter, any change in dynamic possibly detrimental to the safety of everyone, you'd also never given him any indication you'd be receptive. You joked and teased him, but you did that with literally everyone; you were generally the friendly sort.

You also occasionally flirted with him, but it was delicate, almost innocent. There seemed to be more heat behind your flirting with Sam or Bucky. Still, the three of you were the sort of friends that gave each other endless shit, so there didn't seem to be anything to your flirting with them, either. Sam and Bucky always included Steve in the endless shit-giving, too, but you and he had never gotten to that point.

He wished he knew how to talk to you, how to become your friend even if he couldn't tell you he was half in love with you. Every time he tried, however, he ended up feeling too shy to open up for real. You'd always been open and encouraging, but he could tell his shyness looked like rejection to you. It left Captain America perpetually between you.

He'd been lamenting exactly that when she'd texted him, trying to draw him back into her sphere where she could punish him for not loving her enough. Most of the time he was able to resist, but he was feeling particularly sad and lonely. Watching you sit across the room from him, happy and within reach, yet somehow still a million miles away was both temptation and torment. Torn apart by it, he'd been willing to take the punishment to forget what he couldn't have, if only for a moment.

Until he'd been inside her, wishing she was you, and his heightened senses told him they were no longer alone. His inexplicable ability to recognize you by sound and scent alone had set him off and he'd come helplessly, with stuttering hips. He knew he'd heard someone's heart besides hers and his own, and he'd prayed it hadn't really been you who'd caught him in the corridor, that it had only been his own fevered imagination and desperate need that made him think he'd caught the edge of your scent.

He'd been in a foul mood thanks to both the worry of that and the ugly scene he'd endured at her hands. He'd already damned himself for answering her text at all, let alone allowing things to go so far, when, seconds after his climax, she'd murmured in his ear, her voice full of venom, "Thinking of her, again, were we?"

She'd been talking about Peggy; she didn’t know about you. They’d broken up before you’d joined the team, so it had been easy to hide his feelings for you from her, too aware she'd use it against him at the earliest opportunity, the way she did with Peggy. She'd never forgive him for not loving her the way she wanted. She couldn't seem to stop hurting them both because of it.

Then you'd walked in and out without looking at him and he'd known for certain. You'd walked in on him fucking his ex and now you couldn't meet his eye. His already foul mood shifted to something black and ugly as his fists pounded into the bag in frustration.

Outside, you breathed a sigh of relief. You'd made it past the first hurdle. If you could get through this day without humiliating yourself, you'd consider yourself home free. You were sure you could deal with this with just a little more time and distance. You just needed to put Steve back in the No-Sex box where you’d put all the hot people you worked with every day.

You were trying to ignore the fact that just the sight of Steve out of the corner of your eye had your memory flitting back to the sight of his fingers digging deliciously into flesh.

You put the image out of your mind and took two deep breaths as you started to stretch. A nice long run, a cold shower, and something other than last night's pie to eat and you could handle this.

"Y/N?"

You shrieked and jerked in response to the sound of Steve saying your name, hitting your head on the engine you were currently under while you worked on it.

"H-h-h-h-hi Steve!" Deeply grateful for the prototype engine that currently hid everything from your hips up, most thankfully your face, you rolled your eyes at the stuttering giggle. You despised the clear sign of the girlish crush you’d developed overnight, but in your defense, you hadn't been expecting anyone to come talk to you on a gray hoodie day, least of all Steve. He was kind and friendly, but he didn't seem to have much to say to you.

You'd tried to accept it, accept that not everyone was going to click with you, but you really liked Steve. His friendship with Sam and Bucky told you how warm and funny he could be with people he liked and his camaraderie with Natasha made it clear he could be friends with women, and the best of friends, no less. You couldn't help a little bit of hurt feelings that he stayed resolutely apart no matter how you tried to welcome him in. You now realized it was that little burn of resentment that had allowed you to ignore how attracted you were until you’d been confronted with his base sexuality.

Altogether, you'd been blindsided by the sound of Steve's voice, especially as you'd been belting along with the stereo where your phone was blasting your garage playlist. You liked fast and loud when you worked with your hands. Not expecting visitors, you hadn’t been bothering with the leave-me-alone attitude, singing happily as you tinkered. “Volume down fifty percent,” you said, and the music immediately dropped to a murmur.

You realized when he stayed silent that he was probably waiting for you to slide out from under the engine. Fat fucking chance. "Sorry, Steve. I literally have my hands full right now." The lie tripped lightly off your tongue, easier when you didn't have to look at him, but your discomfort was still coming through in your voice, loud and clear to anyone who knew you well. You hoped if he heard it, he didn't recognize it. "But go ahead and talk to me. What's up?"

Steve was both grateful and disappointed that he wasn't looking at your face. He was almost certain, based on your reaction, that you were the person who'd caught him last night, but he was not at all certain anymore that you were upset by it. You sounded… embarrassed? Ashamed?

He felt a rush of chagrin at the thought and spoke with less care than he had planned. "Were you in the hallway late last night?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he winced in horror. He hadn't meant to ask you that at all, let alone that baldly.

"NO!" You shouted the word, the sound strangled, and so clearly a lie, you merely let your head fall back with a thump as you tried to salvage it anyway. "Why do you ask?" you squeaked.

You turned your head until you were looking at Steve's boots when you heard what sounded like a snort from him. You'd never heard that sound from him before, at least not thanks to you, and it had you smiling despite the situation. "You're as bad a liar as I am," he said, his voice rich and warm and so appealing it almost made you slide on your creeper out from where you were wedged to peer into his face.

You resisted, however, too guilty to look at him straight on. You'd stood watching for far too long last night to have the moral high ground in this conversation. You were terrified he'd noticed, the shame of it miserably crawling up your neck and over your scalp. When he fell silent, you started to squirm with it.

Steve opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, unsure how to go on. He wanted to apologize, but now it seemed you’d rather not talk about it. He also didn't know how to apologize. How could he tell you that he was in the hallway because he couldn't stand to have his ex in his space again? He opened his mouth, still not certain what he was about to say, but painfully aware that he’d been silent for far too long when you’d asked him a question.

Before he could speak, however, the silence had worn you down, and you sang like a canary, the words coming out in a rush of guilt-laden confession.

“Look, I know I might have stood there too long, but I was expecting the chance to ruin Bucky’s night or something and I was really surprised when it was you. Can we just pretend it never happened?” The final question came out on a choked high-pitched squeal that shamed you, but the humiliation was so intense, the guilt so over-whelming, you could only close your eyes and hope Steve took pity on you.

“How--” Steve stopped when his voice croaked a little to clear his throat and try again. He was embarrassed, confused, and sick at the thought that you might have seen the fight between him and his ex, heard the things she'd said to him. “How long did you stand there?”

The silence dragged on long enough that Steve actually felt his knees dissolve as his stomach threatened to revolt.

Meanwhile, you were laying, your head pillowed on the little cushion at the head of your creeper, your body limp as you stared in utter horror at the shiny metal you'd been working on without seeing it. You closed your eyes as your stomach churned.

Steve may have suspected that you'd stumbled upon him last night, but his words made clear that he had had no idea what you'd done. How could you possibly explain? There was no way to tell him you'd stood dumbstruck, watching him fuck someone, without giving away that you'd been mesmerized by the sight of him given over to lust, to passion. He'd just been so fucking beautiful.

But he hadn't come in here to confront you and you'd just sold yourself out. You'd never wanted a hole to open up and swallow you the way you did in this never-ending moment. You didn't want to answer, but the silence had stretched to the breaking point and if one of you didn't say something, you were pretty sure you were going to go stark raving mad.

"Okay," you said, your voice carrying a defensive tone and you were grateful all over again that Steve couldn't see your face. "I'm not a pervert or anything. I wasn't watching on purpose."

Steve's knees almost buckled in relief as he finally understood that you were embarrassed, rather than angry and upset, or possibly worse, judging him. "I shouldn't have been in the hallway." Steve rushed to reassure, not wanting you to think he was here because he was angry. "I'm sorry I embarrassed you."

You figured it was a good thing that you were kind of wedged under Tony's latest prototype. You were, apparently, entirely too susceptible to Steve. You could hear the genuine remorse and worry in his voice and it made you want to shimmy out there and cuddle him. A complete puddle, you responded as thoughtlessly as he when he rushed to reassure, your breath signaling your desire to astute ears.

"I wasn't mad, Steve," you half-laughed, the image of his neck muscles, taut with lust, flitting across your mind’s eye. "Let's just forget it." You slid over enough that you could reach out and give a thumbs up.

Steve laughed when your hand came into view, the tone in your voice making his heart beat faster, though he couldn’t put his finger on why. "Thanks, y/n," he replied, his voice warm with the affection he always felt for you but had never known how to express. He was almost glad that this had happened. The Captain seemed to have faded. He didn't know if it was because he could set it aside or because you could stop seeing it. Either way, he was beginning to feel like your friend.

"So, we're cool, right?" You said it hopefully, praying he'd let you off the hook.

Steve laughed out loud, and the sound was so pretty and warm you could hardly stand to stay still. You wanted so badly to see his face lit up with laughter you inspired. You stayed in place, however, still too terrified that he'd see your almost desperate lust for him if he could see your face right now. You needed a little more distance between yourself and the memory of the way the muscles in his thighs flexed and released as he thrust--

"We're cool." Steve was smiling at the thumb you were making dance in response, utterly charmed by you. He was trying to think of something else to say, wanting to stretch this time out longer, but nothing was coming to mind. With nothing else, "Thanks, again." He cringed. "I'll let you get back to work, then."

"I'll see you later." You said it warmly, catching a hint of the discomfort and seeking to alleviate it even if you didn't understand its cause. You had this newfound overwhelming urge to make Steve happy. You wished it wasn't partly because you really wanted to replace Hallway Blonde.

Steve turned and started to walk out, a smile on his face in response to the quiet humming noises you were making absently as the clink of your tools against metal started up again. He was halfway to the door when he realized that you'd never actually answered the question.

You were starting to hum along with the music as you got back to tinkering when Steve's voice rang out. "But… how long did you watch?"

"What?!" Blindsided, convinced you were home free, you had absolutely no defense or guile and the word was so drenched in pained guilt there was no way Steve didn't hear it.

"You did watch," he pointed out, turning back around with new determination, the guilt in your voice clear to him, but yet unexplained. "But I asked how long, and you didn't answer."

"Of course I did." Your voice was raspy and painfully unconvincing. If you'd been the slightest bit prepared for any of this, maybe you wouldn’t be fucking it up so hard. You cleared your throat and continued. "Not, like, a pervy amount of time, but a… justifiably surprised amount of time. I didn’t have a stopwatch on me.” You tried really hard to sound vaguely irritated and a little offended that you had to explain, and you mostly succeeded.

Steve stood next to the engine, looking down at your legs, jiggling in apparent anxiety. He was considering his options. He didn't want to get overly physically pushy and drag you out from under there so that he could look at you, but he also really wanted to see your face. He felt like he needed to understand what was going on underneath this conversation more than he needed anything else.

Steve lay down on the ground so that he could see you where you lay, one arm limp at your side, a socket wrench in your hand, while the other arm was up, your palm across your forehead in dismay. His mouth began to spread in a smile at how utterly adorable he thought you were, even when you'd been obviously lying to avoid having to look at him.

"Hands full, huh?"

"Fuck me!” The expletive burst from your mouth in an explosion, both startled and horrified at being caught. You whipped your head to the side to see Steve laying on his stomach on the floor next to you, his cheek pillowed on his crossed wrists, pretty face smiling sweetly at you.

Too susceptible by half, you turned your face back to the engine in front of you. You were afraid that pretty smile could get you to do anything.

“Will you please come out here so I can see your face when I’m talking to you?” Steve asked it kindly, aware that you were hiding because something embarrassed you. He wanted to ease that embarrassment, show you that you didn’t have to be embarrassed with him. He was too familiar with the sensation to want it to happen to anyone else, least of all you.

“I don’t want to.”

Steve’s lips twitched and he had to stifle his laughter at the petulant tone and cadence to your words. He didn’t move from his spot on the floor. If all he could get was the sight of your profile from under one of Tony’s massive prototypes, it was better than nothing. “Why not?”

“Because I’m humiliated.” You spoke slowly and deliberately, annoyed and anxious because the conversation that you’d thought you’d escaped unscathed had turned around on you. It didn’t help that you could see Steve smiling at you out of the corner of your eye and you were having a hell of a time not crawling out from under the engine and all over him. “The fuck you think?”

As you spoke, Steve could hear your heart start to race but it didn’t have the pounding rhythm of fear. If he wasn’t also afraid that he was merely engaged in wishful thinking, he’d wonder if it was arousal. Once he started considering the possibility, your behavior made more sense, but he couldn’t be sure he wasn’t deluding himself, desperate for you to want him with the same need he had for you, the same need he constantly had to bury beneath the Captain America façade.

“I shouldn’t ask how long you watched, should I?” He could hardly believe he was saying this, knew doing so could change  the dynamic between the two of you as well as the rest of the team, but he wanted you more than he wanted his next breath and the idea that you could want him too was irresistible. “I should ask why you watched,” he continued, his voice lowering with the first hints of desire.

Your wrench fell the ground where you dropped it when you shoved your creeper out from under the engine as you lost your temper. To be fair, the anger was more frustration and panic, than anything else. The shivers of embarrassment running up your spine and over your scalp, easily distracted you from the desire coloring Steve’s voice.

“Oh my god!” You shouted it as you came to your feet. Steve had already leapt to his feet when you burst into motion. You faced him, eyes narrowed, hands on hips. “Because you’re sexy as hell and it was hot, okay? Are you happy now?” Steve’s jaw dropped at the bald statement combined with the hostile tone to your voice.

Gesturing wildly, you continued to rant. “When I realized how I was violating your privacy I turned around and walked away but I’ve felt guilty ever since.” You sneered and the tone did not match the words of your next sentiment by any stretch. “So I’m sorry." With a scoff of irritation, you turned and walked out on a long stride of anger. “Fuck you.”

Once far away from your garage and Steve, you sagged against the wall in horrified dismay.

Did you just yell at Steve that watching him fuck got you hot?

Were you out of your damn mind?

Steve sat in the window seat in his bedroom. He’d picked these rooms because of the wide, deep bench next to tinted glass where he could look out at the woods behind the compound but not feel as he often did, as though he were on display, a fish in a bowl. These moments of peace, alone with his sketchbook in his designated quiet place, sometimes felt like the glue holding him together.

In these moments, he most often sketched you. Today was no exception.

He'd spent the last half hour trying to get right the exact curve of your eyebrows as you'd shouted at him before storming out of your garage. He never wanted to forget the look on your face, as he'd fallen a little more in love with you that day.

Steve had never had the luxury of self-delusion. He'd been born fragile and small to a world both mean and cold. He'd found cruelty far more often than kindness at the hands of others, until a man of rare vision and compassion had seen more deeply and offered him a chance to do more than the body he'd been born into would allow. He'd leapt at the chance, simply because he needed to right the wrongs he saw in the world and no one would let him any other way.

After the serum, however, he'd learned that the eyes stayed cruel even as the blows became pats, the raised fists handshakes, the sneering disdain simpering flattery. He'd learned quickly to see who meant their kindnesses, their compassion, and who sought his company because of his appearance or name. He rarely made mistakes these days, though his most recent was fresh.

Today, your eyebrows had twisted in distress even as your mouth went mobile in fury, the quiver of your voice so slight only his highly sensitive ears could have heard it. The humiliated, guilty misery had been all over you the moment he'd been allowed to see you and his heart had stumbled.

Where another would look at you and see the oil smeared across your cheek, Steve saw in the agitated motion the compassion that fueled the anxiety and humiliation all over you. The tone of your voice revealed the kindness that inspired such guilt; the shine of your eyes gave away the integrity that caused such misery. In short, he'd been attracted to the surface of you, the funny and bright, but the sweet heart beneath had him captivated.

Steve couldn't deny that the attraction was not silent in this contemplation. His brain kept replaying your voice saying that you thought him sexy. He couldn't stop thinking about the implicit admission in your bald statement. You'd wanted to watch.

You'd wanted to watch him.

The thought alone had had him half hard all day. He wanted to show you. He wanted to show you everything.

He couldn't help the fear, however. He was afraid to tell you that, to admit that he'd developed feelings for you that were anything but professional. He worried that to do so would alter a dynamic that worked, that kept all of you safe. He was also terrified that your interest was merely physical and to admit to anything deeper would do nothing but invite your pity.

All his old insecurities rose up to choke him at the same moment he heard his ex's text tone.

I'm sorry, baby. I just get so jealous. Let me make it up to you.

He thought of her pretty perfect lips sneering in fury and something perilously close to hate, then of your dancing thumb and your shamefaced flight. Everything inside him softened in tenderness at your sweetness, your genuine warmth. Reminded that he had a right to kindness and compassion, his heart hardened against the blonde viper that was once again trying to get her fangs into him.

No. All we do is hurt each other. I'm not doing this anymore.

As soon as he hit send, he felt lighter. He wondered if he should leave you alone for a little while before he tried to talk to you again. Because he would absolutely be talking to you again. He needed to know if you felt anything like the electricity that raced over him every time he saw you.

Not doing this anymore? Who the fuck do you think you are?

She hadn't always been like this. Or at least she hid it better at the beginning, until he'd fallen in love with the woman he thought she was. Over time, however, there emerged cruel jealousy from underneath the funny charm that had captivated him. Even in the beginning, however, he couldn't imagine her reacting to anything the way you had. She lacked the empathy.

Steve couldn't help but compare you. You didn’t just compare favorably, there seemed to be no comparison. Most important, your reaction to what had happened told him what kind of heart you had. He had no defense against kindness, strength, and compassion. Whether it was wise or not, he needed to find out if there was anything there. 

He finally listened to Natasha and blocked her number.

Steve went back to his sketch, smiling at the memory of how you’d looked shouting compliments at him, wondering when you’d let him talk to you again.

 … And Chose Me here

Permanent taglist:

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[vangoghmusings]

pairing: @oikawaplssteponme​ x kei tsukishima 

word count: 1.6k

a/n: here is an autumn themed art trade piece i wrote for willow! i haven’t written in a while so hopefully it isn’t terrible lol! 

“Willow!”  

The brunette haired girl looked up from her phone as she laid on the couch to look at her father whose arms were crosses over his chest.  

“Could you make yourself useful and go rake the leaves in the front yard?”  

She sighed and nodded, stretching and getting up from the couch. She was visiting home for fall break and was surprised how much energy her first semester at college had taken out of her. She grabbed her jacket and slipped on her sneakers and stepped outside, grabbing the rake from the garage on her way out. She stuffed her hand in her pocket and dug around for her earbuds and popped them in her ears. She clicked shuffle a couple times before landing on Paramore’s “Still Into You” since she’d been feeling quite nostalgic lately.  

Willow picked up the rake and began sweeping the large amounts of leaves that were scattered all over the yard. Quickly getting carried away, she sang out loud into the end of the rake and danced around her makeshift microphone.  

Across the street, Kei Tsukishima looked up from the book on his lap and out the window. He narrowed his eyes at the sight of the girl dancing around and what appeared to be yelling into a rake. He blinked, realizing that was his childhood friend, Willow. They were close in elementary school, but when Tsukishima called her annoying in middle school and that he wished she would leave her alone forever; she never made the attempt to talk to him again. He frowned down at his book, scolding his younger self for being such an asshole. During high school they were cordial, more acquaintances than friends. But Tsuki simply watched her bloom into herself with confidence and joy and often wished he had the courage to try and enter back into her life. Tsuki let out a small chuckle as he watched Willow pick up the rake and do a couple hops before walking back into the garage, a neat pile of leaves sitting on the lawn.  

“All done!” She hummed and set the rake down on the lawn. She stepped into the garage and opened the door to grab a garbage bag from inside, when a fuzzy blur sped past her legs, knocking her down. “MAC!” Willow shouted, watching her family’s obese and energetic English bulldog speed outside and run straight through the pile of leaves, scattering them everywhere. Willow groaned and stood up, rubbing her butt from the impact of the garage’s cement floor. Corralling Mac was no easy task, while he was too fat for his own good, he was practically still a puppy and had all the energy. She sighed and ran out into the yard, only to see Mac running in circles like a madman, frothing from the mouth in excitement. She chuckled and ran towards him.  

“C’mon Mac, come inside! I’ll get you a snack!”  

Mac paid the magic s-word no mind and continued to run around the yard. Willow gave an exasperated sigh and lunged towards her dog, only to be smacked harshly in the face by the wooden rod of the rake. She whimpered and fell back unto the lawn. With a pounding ache against her forehead, she lied down and winced. “Mac you little shit,” She mumbled.  

The sound of crunching leaves caught Willow’s attention. She opened her eyes, expecting to see the bright autumn sun, but was instead met with the silhouette of a lanky blonde boy. Her eyes widened and he let out a soft chuckle.  

“You’re too clumsy Willow.”  

“Kei?” She breathed out before sitting up. She couldn’t believe what was happening. Her childhood crush looked down at her, a small smirk plastered across his face. The same smirk he sent her in the hallway back in high school. Her heart gave a painful pound, remembering the lifelong crush she had on the boy.  

“Ow,” She mumbled, wincing once again from the pounding ache the impact of the wooden rod.  

“Careful,” Tsuki spoke softly, helping her sit up, “you hit your head pretty hard, you might even have a concussion.”  

“I don’t even know how that happened,” She grumbled and rubbed her forehead.  

“Well, you stepped on the bottom of the rake, so it swung up and hit you-”  

“Shut up, I know...were you watching me?”  

Tsuki blinked, praying his cheeks weren’t reflecting the red hot embarrassment he felt.  

“What? No- wait shit, your nose!”

Willow furrowed her brows in confusion and brought her hand up to her nose, pulling it away to see it dripping in blood.  

“Shit,” She sighed.  

“Let me help you,” Tsuki said, gently helping her up on her feet. Willow tilted her head back and cursed under her breath and blood continued to flow from her nose. She pinched her nose and winced once more as Tsuki led her inside his home. Her head hurt too much to care where she went as long as he was able to get her some pain killers.  

Warm yellow light filled the Tsukishima home as Willow walked inside. She leaned against Tsuki, who led her into the kitchen.  

“Here,” He mumbled and helped her hop onto the countertop. He grabbed a paper towel and turned to her. “Let go of your nose.”  

She sighed and tilted her head back down and unpinched her nostrils. Before any blood could gush out, Tsuki quickly set the paper towel against her nose and held it there steadily. Willow looked up at him with curiosity, her wide brown eyes peering from under long dark eyelashes. Tsuki cleared his throat and looked away. Those brown eyes seemed to haunt them, a beauty he thought was forgotten once they parted their ways after high school.  

“So, how’s college?” He mumbled, still looking away and praying his face wasn’t flushed.  

“It's fine,” She shrugged, her own cheeks burning from the closeness between them.  

Silence.  

“Uh, I think I’m okay now,” she said, giving Tsuki and excuse to pull away. He took the paper towel and threw it away and washed his hands in the kitchen sink. He turned back around to face her and frowned.  

“Oh, you stained your shirt.”  

Willow looked down at her shirt and low and behold, there was a big blotch of blood staining the chest. She sighed.  

“It's not my day apparently.”  

Tsuki nodded and walked away and upstairs, coming back down with a sweatshirt in his large pale hand.  

“Here.”  

He handed it to her and she took it, wondering why the boy who had ignored her since elementary school was showing her so much kindness. She reached for the hem of her shirt and paused.  

“Uh, Kei, can you-”  

“O-oh, yeah sorry,” He mumbled and shuffled away.  

Willow let out another sigh and slipped off the bloodied fabric and slipped on Tsuki’s sweatshirt. She inhaled deeply, a thousand memories rushing to her with the familiar scent. Cinnamon.  

Memories of running around the playground, playing dinosaurs, forcing Tsuki to play with barbie dolls. All were accompanied by the scent he never outgrew, of sweet cinnamon.  

She buried her nose in the collar and filled her lungs with the smell. She smiled softly, only to frown when she remembered how he didn’t miss her. He didn’t care he hurt her feelings in elementary school. He didn’t care about her. She clung to the sweatshirt and looked down, tears beginning to well up.  

“Hey, Willow are you done- woah are you okay?” Tsuki asked in concern at her hunched figure clinging to his sweatshirt. She blinked a few times, tears rolling down her cheeks and sniffled before looking up at the boy her heart had longed for since she was little.  

“Why did you say it?”  

He paused and sighed. He often asked himself the same question. Every day at school, seeing her laugh and smile and goof around with her friends, he wished he never left her world.  

“I don’t know.” He bit his lip and looked down at Willow, tears continuing to fall. “Willow please, don’t cry...I couldn’t stand it when we were little, and I can’t stand it now.”  

“You couldn't stand me when we were little and I’m sure it's still the same-”  

“Willow I-I love you, please don’t cry.”  

Willow’s eyed widened and she looked up at him.  

“What?”  

Tsuki sighed and unclenched his shaking fists. As gently as possibly he brushed the brown hair from her face with his slender fingers, taking his thumbs and wiping away her tears from her pink cheeks.  

In a soft whisper, he spoke, “I loved you when we were kids, when we were in high school and I still love you. I don’t know what was wrong with me- I was a stupid kid, well I’m still stupid because I never said I was sorry but-”  

Tsuki’s eyes widened as he was silenced by a pair of soft lips on his. A relieved chuckle escaped him as he pulled her close and kissed her deeply. Willow beamed at his touch and pulled away to press a kiss on his cheek.  

“I accept your apology,” She giggled. He rolled his eyes and hugged her tightly. Willow sighed happily and breathed in his cinnamon. “I love you too Kei.”  

He smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. The moment was quickly interrupted by the sound of a large bark outside. Willow froze and gasped.  

“SHIT I LEFT MAC OUTSIDE”  

Tsuki blinked, watching Willow sprint out the front door. He laughed and sighed. At least now he could help her chase down her dog instead of her.  

[barb610]

@earthquakeofideas​ asked - pls may my lonely ass have a ship 🥺 i’m a girl w brown hair + blue eyes, glasses, and im kinda thicc and short. i rly like all things horror even tho i’m a huge chicken. i love to draw, and i also love indie music, and fashion. i’m also a vegetarian :-) i love reptiles and dogs. also, i’m a very empathetic person uwu! thank u bro 💕💗🥺🥰

Of course you can!  I am so sorry that this took so, so long!  Remote learning had really messed up my schedule (not that I really had one to begin with).  

I ship you with... 

Horace Somnusson!

I know this might sound strange, and I know that he is one of the younger wards of the loop, but let’s just assume that he’s a few years older!  I got a little carried away, so there’s a LOT of stuff under the cut

So you work at a small family owned boutique in a no-name town in Florida, it was one of those “My friend’s aunt who knows this lady, who’s sister-in-law owns this” kinda things

On one particular day, business was very slow, so you decided to listen to your own music through your earbuds instead of whatever trending pop music was playing over the intercom of the boutique today

You’re jamming out, folding some nice sweater, and hanging up dress on the “Sale! 10% Off” rack, so you don’t notice the bunch of people that walk in

You finally realize that they had walked into the store when you get a tap on your shoulder

You turn around to see a beautiful blond boy with impeccable fashion sense

I’d like to think that Horace gets quite a bit taller as he gets older so he’d kind of be staring down at you 

Hi miss!  Do you happen to have this dress shirt in a smaller size?  Wonderful blouse you have on there, truly quality craftsmanship.  Maybe a medium?  Or do you have any slimmer styles?

You were in awe of the style he had and the fact he had an elegant British accent, something very unusual for no-name town in Florida

Most guys that came in here were sent in by their girlfriend or wife with a picture of what they needed

This guy wore beautiful leather oxfords, exquisitely tailored slacks, and a button up that was probably nicer than a lot of the shirts in here

You had to look up at him to see his face (and he had a pretty nice one)

Oh, yeah, we actually have a few slimmer ones, they’re behind that display over there.

Responding to him makes you realize the group of people he’s with

There’s another boy older than the one you just helped, and one other boy that looks around the same age, he had almost cartoon-like bags under his eyes

There were two girls, one practically had fire in here eyes and one wore a quite tomboy outfit

Thanks, love!

“Love?” You thought to yourself, who calls someone they just met “Love”?  Is it a British thing?

You watched him walk over to the other side of the store and later helped him and his friends check out at the counter

You had an interesting conversation about cashmere versus alpaca wool while him and his friends payed for the clothes they picked out

The rest of the day, you kept the strange interaction in the back of your mind, wishing you had gotten his name

Once you had finished up closing the shop, you walked out, holding your sketchbook along with your other belongings and began locking the front door of the boutique

There was the sound of expensive shoes slapping against the pavement, but you didn’t think of it because there was always a bunch of rich kids running around this neighborhood

You turned around, only to see the boy from earlier running towards you and slam into you sending your sketchbook flying, papers floating in the air

They settled in the ground revealing your drawings of outfits and cute little reptiles

Oh my, oh dear, I am so sorry, so unbelievably sorry.  Let me help you pick these up, love

“Love? again?” you thought

He bent down and started to gather the pages that were strewn out all over the sidewalk

As the boy helped you pick up your sketches, he began to admire your sketches

These are quite superb!  I love this chameleon you have here!

You weren’t too sure on how to respond, you don’t even know why he ran into you in the first place!  Let alone his name!

Oh, you must be confused a bit on why I ran into you like a madman.  I truly am sorry, I was trying to get here before you closed the shop because, well, this must sound absurd, but I wanted to get your name.  I’m Horace by the way.  I just wanted to talk to you a bit more.

You were a little shocked, but you introduced yourself and the rest is history

You two started going out on the town as friends and it quickly evolved into something else

It wasn’t a surprise when he asked you to go on a real date with him

After a wonderfully planned date, he was walking you home when you both noticed that you were being followed

Millard, I know that you’re following us!  Please come out of the bushes so I can introduce you to her.  I figured this was going to happen sooner than later.  

When nothing stepped out of the bushes even though you heard the sound of rustling leaves

Horace introduced you to Millard, briefly going over the fact that he was invisible, something that seemed a lot more important to you than Horace apparently

I suppose I should explain the rest to you now shouldn’t I?

He took you to a large expensive house on the other side of town, where you were introduced to the rest of the gang

He explained the peculiardom to you, and told you what he could do

You were a little skeptical at first, but quickly realized that he wasn’t joking around

You guys were hanging out at your place when he fell asleep on the couch

This was after a mutual agreement to stop a horror film you guys were watching because of the antagonists’ mutated animal that would have given you both nightmares if you continued

At first Horace was just squirming a bit

Then he started to whimper and cry out for someone that you didn’t know

But you really understood what he was talking about when he shot up from the couch, eyes wide open and glossed over, not really focusing on anything

Oceans will rise to claim what was stolen from them, ashes will fall from the skies to punish the destructive, cities will burn in the name of greed,  after the fog lifts the only remnants will be of those who tried, we will be no longer, six-legged wings will devour us in the end

When he first started talking his voice sounded almost dreamy, but by the time he finished, he was shouting, his limbs flying everywhere, it was as if he was in physical pain, but it was only a dream

As soon as he stopped spewing out apocalyptic riddles, he slipped back into a restless sleep

You were so freaked out that you didn’t let him sleep for long, you woke him up and asked him what that whole thing was about

He told you that he didn’t remember anything he saw or said, and the ones he can’t remember barely every come true

You trusted Horace, so you relaxed and decided to put that horror film you stopped

It took a few scenes to remember why you had shut it off in the first place

Horace started taking a lot of naps at your place, he usually didn’t get a lot of sleep when he went to bed at night due to his visions

You weren’t aware how little sleep he was getting, oh the wonders of concealer 

Sleeping somewhere else didn’t stop the visions of seeing people he didn’t even know get in car accidents, get shot in a back ally, and many other worse things

He wanted to sleep wherever you were because when he would wake up in a cold sweat, he didn’t want to have to explain what he saw to Miss P, or answer Millard’s endless questions, or have to endure Enoch’s rude comments

He wanted to be with you

You would be there for him, if he wanted to talk, you would listen, if he wanted to just sit and think, you would be right next to him

He’d absolutely love your glasses!

He’d love picking out new frames with you

He’d search the whole store to find the perfect pair

And Horace would love to go shopping with you because let’s be real here, Horace is the only peculiar with any fashion sense whatsoever

Do you know happy he would be to have a conversation about fashion with someone who knows what he’s talking about

He would totally buy you outfits at completely random times for absolutely no reason

I just saw this and I knew that you would look spectacular in it, even though you look spectacular in everything under the sky, love

Did I mention that he calls you “love” all the time?

Well, he does and refuses to call you anything else

He has you in his phone (assuming he gets one when he’s out of the loop) as Love

Just Love

When he finds out that you’re vegetarian, he goes on a vegetarian kick himself

He learns a bunch of vegetarian recipes to cook for you guys

And the dishes he cooks taste so  g o o d

Horace totally revamps his own diet to match yours and is the most supportive boyfriend ever

Enoch makes fun of him a lot for it

Horace is would be an amazing boyfriend

I didn’t realize how long I made this!! I hope that you like them and I am so sorry that it took me so long to get to this!  I hope that it was worth the wait!

[honeykawas]

innate good | oikawa tooru

hi! my name is Gabrielle and idk if this is a  legit haikyuu writing blog, but sometimes i have all these ideas in my head for different scenarios with characters and i need an outlet to get it all out. So, here I am.

my writing is shit most of the time, but I enjoy doing it so-- ha.

anywayzzzz. here we gooo :)

pairing: childhood bestfriend/lover!reader x oikawa tooru

summary:oikawa tooru questions whether or not he’s a good person.

warnings: none. Its just some really sappy times with alyssa looooool.

“I need you to tell me that I’m a good person. I know I can be selfish, and naracassistic, and self-destructive, but underneath all that deep down, I’m good. I need you to tell me I’m good.”

this was 100% insipired by an iwaoi tiktok i saw by @moeyalawn (tiktok user) , but i definitley made it into a oikawa x reader scenario. please dont kill me.

:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:

Heavy breathing filled the empty gym. Cold sweat ran down the side of Tooru’s face as he reared up, getting ready to practice another serve. It had been two weeks since Aoba Johsai’s lost to Karasuno at the Spring High Preliminaries . No one saw the loss coming- no team ever does.

Tooru had become a madman after Preliminaries. He stayed up late cosumed by the things he could’ve done better at the tournament, slacked off in most of his classes, and had been avoiding you and Iwaizumi. Oikawa Tooru was at his breaking point.

He let out a soft grunt and rubbed his right knee. The aching was back, but he pushed it to the far corners of his brain. He needed to nail this jump serve. He needed to constantly improve himself in order to become the best, in order to keep certain geniuses from surpassing him, in order to reach his full potential-

Throwing the volleyball up into the air and taking a few steps, his hand made contact with it, the sound booming through the silent gym.

-

It was late at night and you were out on your evening run. The air around you was cool and the sunset lit the sky with cotton candy pinks, reds, yellows, and blues.

In all honesty, it had been a rough two weeks for you too after the Karasuno match. You had seen Tooru work so hard in attempt to earn a ticket for nationals.

They were so close. 

Seeing how he wouldn’t get to take his beloved team there and seeing how distraught it made him, hurt you in more ways than one could imagine. 

You had barely seen Tooru since the match. A ‘goodmorning’, ‘goodnight’ and ‘I love you’ text would be sent on the daily to remind him that you were still there for him, but you understood that he needed space. Still, you knew about his bad habits of overworking himself, of overthinking loses, and couldn’t help but worry for his wellbeing. 

The gravel of the unpaved road moved under your feet as you ran in the direction towards school. 

Passing by the front gates, your eyes couldn’t help but spot a bright light coming from the back end of the buildings. You stopped in your tracks, eyebrows furrowing. 

“Is that...?” You shook your head in disbelief. But your body hesitated from moving on with your run. Sighing, you entered through the school gates and made your way back towards the gym. The doors were open, light streaming out onto the concrete. Taking your earbuds out, your put them into your pocket as you slowly approached the doors. You heard a low groan coming from inside.

Peeking in through the doorways, your breath suddenly got caught in your throat. 

-

It had been three hours. Three fucking hours of his miserable self-practice and Tooru still couldn’t get his jump serve just right. His legs and feet were sore and his hand was a bright shade of red from the contact it made with the volleyball everytime he hit. “This is it. I feel it. This serve is gonna be the one.” he mumbled to himself. Tossing the ball high up into the air, he prepared himself. 

Three steps. Arms slightly behind him for momentum. 

Right. Left. Right.

You watched your boyfriend in awe but there was a stomach churning feeling you couldn’t shake. Your anxiety was through the roof. You didn’t him to hurt himself again. The first time was enough.

His jumping form was perfect, graceful even. 

A sharp and loud crack came from the hit, causing you to flinch. Your eyes widened. “That was a good serve” you thought. The ball was sent flying towards the net with incredible speed, but just as you thought it was about to go over, it got caught. 

“FUCK!” You watched as Tooru kicked the cart of volleyballs next to him with full force, sending it back to hit the gym wall. He had spent years and years preparing himself for a chance to be recognized nationally with his team and he let them down. He had fucked up. His legs and knees felt dull as he fell onto the gym floor. Tears of anger and frustration ran down his face.

“Tooru-” You ran to your boyfriend and immediately wrapped your arms around him. He felt your warm embrace as you cradeled him, softly running his your fingers through his hair in attempt to calm down.

“It’s my fault... it’s all my fault. If I had been a better captain, if I had practiced more- if I had been a better person maybe, maybe I wouldn’t have let them all down- maybe, maybe, we could’ve gone to nationals-“ Tooru squeezed his eyes shut. This all had to be a deam. These last two weeks were just a figment of his imagination. He would still have future matches to play with Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, Mattsun- his whole team. It wasn’t over-

It couldn’t be over-

But it was. 

He knew that. 

There was no changing the reality of the situation.

Tooru looked up at you, his eyes red and puffy. “Y/N,” he breathed “Please, please- I need to know that it’s not my fault we lost, because right now it really feels like it- if I had been better-if my reflexes were faster I could’ve received that ball- if I had been good captain- I need you to tell me that I’m a good person. I know I can be selfish, and naracassistic, and self-destructive, but underneath all that, deep down, I’m good. I tried. I need you to tell me I’m good.”

You felt like your heart was shattering into a million pieces. 

You let out a soft sob and gently wiped away his tears, shaking your head.

“No, baby. It’s not your fault. You gave it your all. All of you did. You all played at 120% and I know you’ve been destroying yourself because you couldn’t get that receive, but you have to realize that no one is blaming you, okay? You played well, Tooru.” You cooed.

“ You are a good person. You are the best person I know. These past few weeks must have been really hard on you, yeah?” You asked while peppering gentle kisses all over his face. You gave him a pained smile. It was your turn to cry.

“I’ve watched you bust your ass for volleyball ever since elementary school, Tooru. You’ve worked so hard all these years and I wish you could see what an impact you’ve made on your team. They look up to you. You’re an amazing captain.” Tooru’s grip on you tightened. He trembled in your arms quietly, small whimpers coming out of his mouth. 

“I know you always want to improve and you tend to overwork and tear yourself down, especially with volleyball, but remember I’ll always be here to build you back up, okay? I’ve got your back for eternity. So please, I want you to know that you’ve worked hard. It’s not going unnoticed. You are a good person. Nothing is your fault. ” The Oikawa you knew and loved, who was always showing others his flirty and snarky side, was deduced to a sniffling puddle in your arms. You cupped his cheeks and melded your warm lips to his, giving him a soft and loving kiss. As he kissed you back all the tension in his body felt like it had been released. 

It was nice to know that you understood his thought process and how he was feeling. You two had always clicked that way.

“I love you,” he whispered as he pulled away from your lips, “Thank you.” He said and nuzzled himself into the crook of your neck. 

You sighed and rubbed circles on his back. “Why don’t I help you clean up and then let’s get out of here?”

“Yes, please.”

It took you and Tooru no longer than 10 minutes to put up all the equiptment and grab his bags from the locker room. With one of his bags in your hand, you turned around and offered your free one to him.“Ready?” He gladly took it with a small smile on his face. “Let’s go home.” He gave your hand a slight squeeze as the two of you exited the gym.

The two of you walked back to his house hand-in-hand, soft smiles lingering on your lips and quick glances being exchanged with one another. 

“I missed you these past few weeks, Tooru.”

“I missed you too, Y/N.”

There was unspoken understanding between the two of you as you walked home that night: Oikawa Tooru’s volleyball career wasn’t over-

This was just the beginning.

[writing-without-time]

it’s hard to kill buttercups. chapter two

a blooming garden - chapter two (ao3) -  wattpad

I tap my pencil on my desk nervously throughout class, annoying some of my classmates around me. I apologize profusely but I can’t help but be nervous. I want to handle this maturely but I’m still a school girl who is only now realizing I just gave a note to my crush to meet me on the rooftop. I sound like a cliche anime episode but nope. This is my life. I’m starting to think I’m more idiotic than I let myself believe.

Sometimes out of the corner of my eye I’ll catch Saiki looking back at me. Every time I do, my heart flutters and my face turns red. Part of me loves the feeling and the other part of me wants to rip my stupid heart out.

I don’t like being in love. I’m afraid.

But I can’t help loving him.

But I’m not ready to die.

Last year, before the rewind, I learned that when this gets bad it’s..really painful. Flowers will cover my eyes, neck, arms, and legs, and anything else, and they’ll go numb and I’ll lose feeling in them. What I can feel will be painful. I don’t want to go through that again.

Suffering for a boy who doesn’t even know my name.

So, this time, if I still wind up dying.. At least it won’t be entirely for nothing.

Class still continues if I’m paying attention or not, and I realize this when there’s a paper passed back to my desk. I stare down at it as I thank the boy sitting in front of me under my breath. I stare down at the paper curiously.. Math work. I sigh and pick it up, and under it lies my notebook filled with notes.

Partially filled with notes. Partially with doodles of buttercups and Saiki and flowers. Last night I didn’t sleep well, my laptop now filled with research of buttercups and their meanings. The notes dance on this lined page- meanings of humility and those of ‘your charm dazzles me.’ Yellow ones like the ones I found yesterday of new beginnings and joy and friendships.

I’d make a great botanist with this curse.

As I organize my cramped desk the homework stares me down dreadfully. If you told me to name 5 things I use every day, calculus wouldn’t even cross my mind. The clock tick, tick, ticks and then the last bell of the day has rung. I pack my bag, hastily shoving the homework and my notebooks in my bag before exiting the classroom. I turn and make for the rooftop, footsteps echoing a bit louder the emptier the hallways get. I open the door only to be greeted by Mr. Matsuzaki. Yikes.

“What are you doing up here?” Matsuzaki asks, glaring me down.

“I was going to meet somebody, sir.” I explain calmly.

He pauses for a second. “...are you a first year? I haven’t seen you before.” He asks, quirking a brow. I sigh.

“I’m a second year, sir. In class three. Yua Ichika.”

He stops, awkwardly. “I apologize. Continue.” He moves around me as I sigh and nod my head.

I set my bag down and wait patiently. I asked Saiki to meet me here, on the rooftop. Maybe I arrive here too eagerly, but it’s not like I have anything else to do. I sit down where I stand next to the railing and pull my phone from my bag, opening some stupid idle game.

Time does not pass very fast. But when the sun is setting he appears in front of me, presumably having teleported. I look up at him as I set down my phone. “You took a long time.” I comment.

“I had something to take care of.” He speaks, but without opening his mouth, I note. Telepathy of some sort? “How and why do you know about my powers?” He asks, and his facial expression changes from neutral to stern. I think he’s trying to scare me.

I stand up. “It was a while ago. When I heard Toritsuka and Aiura screaming at Akechi about it- in that starwell.” As I speak I lean back on the railing. Saiki gives me a look, as if I’m not telling the whole truth, and holds it for a second.

Then he breaks. “I’m going to kill them..” He mutters to himself. “Do not tell anyone about this-”

“Why would I?” I ask.

He stops, hesitates, looking at me confused. “Is that why you asked me to see you?” He questions.

I shake my head. “I have a favor to ask.” He raises a brow, and I begin to hesitate because this sounds so stupid now that I’m saying it out loud. “I-I need you to get me to hate you.”

He gives me an ‘are you fucking stupid’ look. I roll my eyes into the back of my head. “I have a reasonable explanation, okay?”

“...Continue..?”

“I have- I have this curse. And for reasons I don’t want to explain, If I don’t hate you, I’ll die.” I want to keep it brief- because I’ve already embarrassed myself enough and this entire scenario makes me want to jump backwards over this railing.

He seems to just.. Stand there, thinking for a second. Debating if he should listen to the crazy girl, I presume. “Alright..” He can tell I’m not telling the full truth, I know. But maybe if he starts to dislike me I’ll feel the same. “..Meet me after school tomorrow.”

I stop- briefly- because this madman really just agreed. “R-Really?” Fuck. I stuttered.

“..Yes. I suppose. I can’t have a life on my hands.” He sighs. “Just meet me at the gate.” He waves a hand, as if to dismiss the thought.

“Oh… okay! W-Well, bye!” I try and smile, and ignore the fact I keep stuttering like an idiot, and he nods before he teleports away from me. I bend down slowly now, grabbing my bag and tossing it over my shoulder and taking my time to go down the steps.

..That worked.

I’ll- I’ll be okay, if this is all going to go according to plan!

I grin to myself as I put in my earbuds, the buzzing world around me then silenced by my music. This is all going to go to plan, who am I kidding?

Yet against my temple, I feel an ache and a pulse. I want to tell myself it’s a headache, but I know. It’ll start soon. Of course, when you love a boy for over a year.. The process only gets faster..I hope this plan works fast. 

[fernwehbookworm]

Woke The F*ck Up- Chapter 1

August 24th, 2009

Kara walked into the high school for the first time. Alex made her go in alone, no way was she going to be associated with a freshman especially not during her Senior year. She looked at the paper in her hand, her class schedule with her locker and combination on it. The hallways were so much bigger than that of the middle school. In this main hall, you could see the balcony of the second floor clinging to the side as the roof soared high above with skylights. Kara gulped and took a deep breath.

“You can do this. It's just another school. A bigger school but school none the less, you like school.” Kara mumbles to herself. She is relieved when she turns a corner and is a normal hallway lined with lockers.

“See you can do this.”

Kara hears a commotion around the next corner. When she turns, right outside her first class, two large guys are shoving a much smaller one back and forth. Another looks to be opening a locker from the paper in his hand.

“Come on Schott. Agree to do our homework this year and this would be so much easier. We won't even tell people here about your dad.” One sneers.

“Guys I can't. I almost failed last year because if you.” The little one cries out.

“Hey!” Kara yells. That gets the bullies attention.

“Got it! Alright, let's see if he fits.” Says the third as he opens the locker, turning to notice the slightly lanky girl now starring them down.

“Get lost. This has got nothing to do with you.”

“I think it does.” Kara steps closer.

That's when one of the guys makes the mistake of grabbing her shoulder. Jeremiah had been taking her to various fighting classes since she was adopted. The therapist had recommended it to help her cope with the loss of her parents and Kara loved it. Loved the control it gave her over her own body when everything else felt like chaos. Her test for her black belt in Karate was next month even.

On instinct, Kara grabbed the wrist and twisted, turning the much larger boy around and forcing him to the ground. He cries out makes a pained expression. The other boys are shocked and then mad.

“Well, now you made me mad.” Said the kid who opened the locker.

Kara twists the arm in her grasp harder, just right before it dislocates she releases and shoves him forward with a foot. He rolls on the ground, clutching at his shoulder. Kara looks up just in time to see the locker kid take a swing, she ducks and shoves the heel of her hand into his exposed nose. Instantly, blood gushes out. The last kid runs at seeing how quickly his friends were dispatched. Kara finally turns to the bullied boy, plastered against the lockers in fear.

“Are you okay?” She asks.

“Y-y-yes. I’m-I’m better than those guys. Who are you?” He asks over the moans of the two remaining bullies.

“Kara Danvers.” She sticks out her hand. He takes it tentatively.

“Winslow Schott. But everyone just calls me Winn.”

“It's nice to meet you.”

“What is going on here!” Roars a tall teacher as he rounds the corner.

He towers over the four students. Kara and Winn are both too shocked to respond.

“All of you, to the principal's office.” The man lifts the boys by their shirts and heards them back the direction Kara came from.

The two boys only get two days of suspension and a week of after school detention because they didn't actually hit anyone, though the cameras caught then shoving Winn around. Kara got a week suspension starting tomorrow. The principal was letting her stay for her first day.

“Thank you for saving me. Those guys have been bullying me for two years. I thought when we got here it would be better.”

“What are friends for?”

“Are we friends then?” Kara laughs.

“Well, I don't get suspended for just anyone. We better be friends. Plus if I'm around those guys probably won't bother you.” Winn grins.

“I just have to make it through a week.”

“I'll have my sister keep an eye on you. She's a senior. She probably won't acknowledge your existence unless you're in trouble though.”

“Thanks, Kara. I'm glad we are friends.”

The new friends walk down the hall for their first day of high school and it feels just a little bit smaller.

***

November 6th, 2013

“Breaking News: Lionel Luthor arrested for using his company Luthor Corp to fund an anti-government campaign and also has financial ties to a massive assassination plot. Evidence of Luthor Corp funds traced to the massive explosion in Washington D.C. that killed over 300 people and led to the hospitalization of 200 more…”

Lena turns off the television in the now basically trashed hotel suite. She didn't care, the label paid for it. Lex had tried to call her. Get her to come home. Trying to say that Dad didn't do it, then saying he was just trying to save the world or some other bull shit. The only thing her already drunk mind could understand was that her family was now fucked beyond repair. Someone passed her a blunt and she took it, inhaling deeply to forget. Forget the fake family of her childhood. That she was the bastard daughter of a madman. That her adoptive mother was cruel. Her brother had loved her in his own way, but he had been much older and didn't understand. She found an out and took it.

Once Lena passes the smoking comfort on to someone else she takes a drink from the Vodka bottle on the table and buries her nose in the neck of the woman next to her. The woman would help her forget too, if only for a few hours. Lena pulls her into the bedroom of the suite and closes the door, ignoring the twenty other nameless people left on the other side.

***

June 20th, 2014

Kara paces the locker room. It's the final match. To win it all. Her nerves felt frayed and she was too anxious to sit and wait. Winn appears with tape to wrap her hands.

“Why?” She asks, trying to distract herself.

“To help keep you from breaking every bone in your hand on her jaw.” Comes Winn's smart-assed comment with a little laugh.

“No, Winn. Why did you follow me? You could have gone to MIT or something but you followed me. Became my assistant trainer. I mean I know you developed all those simulators and different equipment to help me train but you could have done so much with a brain like yours.”

“You might as well ask yourself why you saved me in the hallway then. It's what friends do. Especially best friends. I'm behind you all the way Kara. Win or lose. If you lose we will keep training and try again. If you win, well we will keep training anyway. But I'm behind you one hundred percent. So is your family.” An announcement calling Kara to the ring.

“Are you ready?”

Kara nods. She is. Somehow Winn's little speech was enough. He always had her back and Kara was so glad for that.

***

August 4th, 2017

“Ahh... Hi.”

Lena looks up at the blonde woman now standing over her, coffee cup in hand. Lena closes her notebook and raises an eyebrow to the woman who continues to stand awkwardly next to her table.

“Umm... all the tables are taken up and umm… well… the inside is full too. So do you mind if I sit with you? I mean I guess I could just go home but I was kind of looking forward to reading at my favorite Cafe on a beautiful day like today. But I can just go. I should go. Never mind.” Lena laughs and pushes her glasses back up her nose where they started to slip. She glances around the little patio, separated from the sidewalk by a little black gate. Through the large windows, Lena can see the long line of people and crowded tables because of the peak Saturday morning hours.

“You can sit, as long as you stop talking.”

The woman blushes but sits anyway. Lena opens her notebook and continues writing. The blonde opens her own book and leans back in the chair. Lena tries glancing at this very forward stranger, very aware of how easy it would be for someone to recognize her. The blonde is wearing a pastel peach cardigan over a simple white shirt. Behind the glasses are eyes as blue as the sky on this very morning. A crinkle appears between her eyes as she becomes engrossed in the well-read book. Wizard's First Rule the cover reads. After a few minutes, the other woman pulls out headphones and begins to listen to music. It only takes four seconds for Lena to recognize the song that drifts over to her. She glances back up and taps her pen in front of the blonde. She pulls out one earbud and cocks her head to the side, very much like a puppy.

“Lena Luthor?”

“Yeah. My sister got us tickets to the concert tonight.” The blonde blushes slightly.

“You don’t look like a typical fan.”

“Oh, and what do I look like then?” the blonde challenges.

“Like a ray of sunshine gave birth to a golden retriever puppy.” The women stammers, trying to think of a response.

“Well, I am not a fan. My sister is though and she has wanted to go to a concert for a while. I am just listening so I don’t completely make a fool of myself.” That peaks Lena’s interest.

“And what do you think?” Somehow she feels drawn to knowing what this woman’s opinion is.

“Well, I think she’s talented. Definitely has a varying sound to each song so that they don’t all sound the same.”

“But?” Lena hears it in the sound of her voice.

“But, it's kind of depressing. I mean, when I really start listening to the lyrics I just really want to give her a hug and tell her… well, I don’t know really but she sounds like she needs someone who will be there for her.”

That catches Lena very off guard. This woman in front of her wants to comfort a complete stranger because of a few songs. Lena makes the mistake of looking into her eyes and letting the raw emotion in those blue pools wash over her. Something was tugging at her, something she hadn’t felt in years. That scares Lena. She quickly closes her notebook and clears her throat.

“Well, I am sure she just uses her music to work through things. I am sure she has people…” Lena trails off, feeling the hollowness of her own words. The women across from her nods.

“Yeah of course.”

“What do you listen to then? Probably some top one hundred pop star, maybe a boy band?” Lena says, needing to change the touchy subject.

“Well depends on the playlist. Definitely much happier music and NSYNC will always be my go to.” The blonde says, unashamed.

“Oh no. Now you have to leave my table. This is a Backstreet Boys table.”

That starts a whole argument on which nineties boy band was better. The debate expanded into a top ten. Lena actually lost track of time and couldn’t believe that this rather beautiful woman just sat in front of her and actually made her forget her numbness for a while. Then Lena’s phone starts ringing, shaking them out of the little bubble that had formed around their table in the heart of National City. Lena holds up a finger with an apologetic look.

“Hey, Jess… No, I just lost track of time...No, I can get there...Yes, see you in about half an hour… Bye Jess.”

“You have to go?” The woman looks disappointed.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Okay.” The woman sips at her forgotten coffee, making a face at the surely cold liquid.

“Thank you,” Lena says, knowing this woman wouldn’t know how good this conversation was for her.

“For what?”

“I am not sure. Have fun at your concert tonight.” Lena starts to turn to go.

“Wait!” Lena turns back to the woman suddenly standing. Lena raises an eyebrow.

“Can I umm… see you again?” Lena is caught off guard again by this woman who continues to surprise her.

“I-I won’t be here long. I… travel a lot.” The blonde looks disappointed again.

“Well can I have your name at least?” She tries again. Lena pauses to think then stretches out her hand.

“Elena Colby.” the woman takes it.

“Well, Elena. I’m Kara Danvers. Just so you know, if I see you again, I will take it as fate or destiny or something and I will ask for your number again.” That makes Lena smile.

“Consider me warned.” Lena hails a taxi to take her away before she decides to change her mind.

***

“Ugh Alex, you should have seen her. Even in that sweatshirt and her hair up in a messy bun, she was beautiful. She kept fiddling with her glasses and I swear that laugh should be illegal. And those eyes...” Kara flops on the couch in her sister’s apartment. Alex was changing from her pantsuit in the other room, having had to go to the Bureau to fill out some paperwork this morning. Alex laughs and walks out of her room to sit next to her swooning sister. She is wearing her official black Lena Luthor tour t-shirt. Half of the women’s pale face stares out with a piercing green eye next to bold lettering of her own name.

“Her eyes?” Alex pokes at Kara’s shoulder.

“They were this captivating brown. But…”

“But what?”

“There was something off. I don’t know. But they were sad too. Like I just wanted to hug her.”

“Kara, you want to hug everyone you meet.” Alex teases.

“True, but I wanted to.”

“Yes, you wanted to hug the pretty girl.”

“How’s Detective Sawyer?” Kara flips it back around on Alex.

“Annoying,” Alex grumbles.

“Just because you don’t share cases well. She practically solved the murder that led to the dogfighting ring bust herself.” Kara points out. Alex grumbles a protest.

“And you like her.” Kara continues to push.

“She has a girlfriend.” That takes the fun out of the tease.

“You asked her out?”

“Yup. And she shot me down in one of the most embarrassing ways. So I need tonight.” Kara grins and throws her arms around her sister.

“I love our Sister Nights. Even if the music is slightly depressing.”

“But the expensively cheap beer will be great.” Kara laughs and turns on the TV to kill the few hours before they were going to head to dinner.

***

Lena carefully removes the colored contacts from her eyes and places them in the case that she keeps in her dressing room table. She puts in her real contacts and begins to carefully put together Lena Luthor, the cold, badass, rising star. The person adopted and raised by one of the richest madmen in the world. Who disappointed her adoptive mother by pursuing music instead of using her MIT degree. Music was one of the few things that made her feel anything. Now performing was mostly going through the motions, like everything else.

A knock at the door. Jessica is calling for her to report for sound check and a quick run through of the set. Gone is the simple disguise that Lena used to blend into public spaces. In its place is a woman who is all sharp lines and piercing eyes. Lena takes a deep breath, rolls her shoulders back, and purposefully strides out of her dressing room.

Jess is waiting with the set list and banana, knowing full well Lena hasn’t eaten, only ingested copious amounts of coffee. She takes it gratefully and eats half before ditching it in a trash can just off stage. Men and women still dash about all around, preparing for the night. Her band and back up singers mingle on stage. Lena walks up to the mic and waits for her cue to begin.

***

“Alex! You really bought front row tickets?”Kara practically shouts over the noise from all around the Colosseum and the opening act. They both struggle to keep their beers from being jostled and spilled as they make their way between people's legs and the barricade.

“I got a raise. Plus, come on. It's Lena Luthor. This may be the last time tickets like these are within my price range.”

“Okay. But next sister night is on me.”

“So pizza, potstickers, and a movie?”

“Well retired MMA fighters don't make that much when their replacement career is part-time coaching and trying and failing to sell their own art.”

“Hey, you'll sell sometime. It just takes one to the right person.” Kara rolls her eyes.

Suddenly the lights go down and cheers erupt. A slightly eerie chiming begins. A spotlight comes up on a single, raven-haired figure. She is dressed in a leather black v neck vest, leather pants, and boots. Very much what someone would expect from her music.

Hey girl, open the walls, play with your dolls. We'll be a perfect family. When you walk away, it's when we really play You don't hear me when I say, Mom, please wake up Dad's with a slut, and your son is smoking cannabis No one never listens, this wallpaper glistens Don't let them see what goes down in the kitchen

A hush had fallen over the crowd as Lena Luthor began her song. It was called 'Dollhouse’ from what Kara could remember. A catchy song with depressing lyrics. People all around joined in on the next verse, including Alex.

Places, places, get in your places Throw on your dress and put on your doll faces Everyone thinks that we're perfect Please don't let them look through the curtains Picture, picture, smile for the picture Pose with your brother, won't you be a good sister? Everyone thinks that we're perfect Please don't let them look through the curtains

Kara takes a long pull on her beer.

Hey girl, look at my mom, she's got it going on Ha, you're blinded by her jewelry When you turn your back she pulls out a flask And forgets his infidelity Uh-oh, she's coming to the attic, plastic Go back to being plastic No one never listens, this wallpaper glistens One day they'll see what goes down in the kitchen

Kara remembers the rumors that circulated about the Luthor family. Most of it was unconfirmed but this song coming out several years after only renewed them. Lena refused to comment in any of her interviews and ended them whenever a reporter dared to ask. Kara admits that she had gone beyond just listening to Lena’s music. She began to wonder who the person was behind the mysterious facade of a nearly unreachable woman.

Cheers and clapping erupt as the song ends. The next song is a completely different sound as Lena is handed an electric guitar. The lights come up so you can see the whole band and the different lights flashing around the stage. Everyone joins in almost instantly to 'Teenagers’ as smoke billows on to the stage and over the crowd.

They're gonna clean up your looks With all the lies in the books To make a citizen out of you Because they sleep with a gun And keep an eye on you, son So they can watch all the things you do Because the drugs never work They're gonna give you a smirk 'Cause they got methods of keepin' you clean They gonna rip up your heads Your aspirations to shreds Another cog in the murder machine They said all Teenagers scare The living shit out of me They could care less As long as someone'll bleed So darken your clothes Or strike a violent pose Maybe they'll leave you alone But not me

Kara decides just to sit back and enjoy being with her sister. The music is really good and Lena Luthor is really talented. Kara gets three more beers for both of them throughout the two-hour concert. Kara has a good buzz going by the time she and Alex shuffle to the parking lot with the mob of people. They wait for their Uber to pick them up on the sidewalk.

“Thanks for coming with me Kara.” Alex drapes her arm around her slightly shorter sister.

“I will always come when you ask me to. You, my sister, are my best friend.”

“And you're mine.”

***

Lena throws back another shot of Maker's and then let's the girl pulling on her hand lead her to the dance floor. The exclusive after-party was held in the loft of some new nightclub. The concert was long forgotten and it was that weird limbo time that got trapped between late night and early morning. People still packed the club and the pretty girl was more than eager to show Lena how big a fan she was. The brunet was pressing her ass into Lena and Lena let her own hands wander from the girl's hips and up her stomach.

“Want to get out of here?” Lena whispers in her ear.

The girl didn't respond and instead takes Lena's hand to make their way to the door of the club. Jess and her bodyguard follow at a distance, always making sure she is safe, despite Lena’s disregard for her own health. Lena’s hotel for the night is just a block away so the journey is quick. Even so, Lena begins exploring the woman’s body in the elevator. Kissing her neck to her collarbone. Fingers sliding under the white crop top that already showed too much skin. The woman’s hands tangle in Lena’s hair and sinful moans escape her lips.

Somehow Lena manages to open her door and get the woman who will help her feel something for the night onto the bed. Clothes were shed with little ceremony as soon as the door shut behind them. Lena resumed kissing her all over. All over except for the lips. She refused to make that connection. That was the thin line that turned sex from fucking into love and Lena couldn't do that again.

A thigh presses against the heat in Lena's center and she moans into the woman's neck. Slender fingers trail down Lena’s back and then caress her hips. They slide quickly in between the already dripping folds between Lena’s legs.

“Fuck.” Is all the girl says as Lena’s hips buck into her hand. She begins circling the swollen nerves and Lena grips the sheets as she hovers over the nameless woman. Lena is relieved that she is moving quickly because some of her partners would try to drag things out.

Lena bends and begins working on the brunette's nipples. Taking one in her mouth and earning a moan in return. The woman dips lower, finally entering Lena and setting a steady pace. Lena bites down slightly and it causes the fingers inside her to jump, bumping the most sensitive spot. Encouraged by whatever noise Lena made, the woman finds it again. And again. Soon Lena stops her menstruations to let her own sensations build inside her. Her release builds quickly and Lena does nothing to slow it.

Lena falls to the side and breathes deeply, reveling in the feeling of her own release.

“You are fucking sexy.” The woman says.

“Shhh… no talking.” Lena says, silencing her with a finger to the lips. Lena quickly begins to work to return the favor. The woman is easy to push over the edge. Almost as soon as the woman's cries end, Lena stands and throws on her sweatshirt and underwear.

“Feel free to take whatever from the minibar. I'm going for a cigarette. I recommend you be gone when I get back.” Lena says to the slightly confused woman. She nods in a daze and Lena steps out onto the balcony she made Jess pay extra for.

She only allowed herself one cigarette after sex. It always helped take her mind off the women and sometimes men she used and kicked out. Lena heard noses behind her, then the door opening and shutting. Lena pulled on the small comfort and watched the city forty floors below. Despite the late hour, lights still lit windows and moved along streets. Sirens could be heard faintly in the distance. It always amazed Lena that she wasn’t the only one whole really felt alive in the hours after two.

Lena puts out the cigarette butt and climbs back into bed. She stares at the ceiling, hoping for a dreamless sleep that alcohol usually brings her.

***

August 5th, 2017

Sweat pours down Kara’s head and back as she runs through the park. The early summer heat bakes onto her shoulders, already sweltering at eight-thirty. She had removed her t-shirt two miles ago and now clutched it in her fist, using it to wipe sweat out of her eyes. She loved finishing her runs in this park. A big fountain stood in the center, along with an ice cream cart that was always open at eight sharp.

Kara was just rounding the last corner when she ran straight into something or someone. Kara quickly grabs whoever it is to stop their fall, her own reflexes keeping her upright. Kara manages to grab one hand and wrap an arm around their back. Brown eyes stare into hers and Kara gulps, realizing who she is now holding.

“Elena!” The woman's eyes go wide.

“Kara!”

“Well, maybe this is destiny.” Kara surprises herself with how smoothly that came out.

“Yeah, to ruin my morning coffee.” Kara winces and looks at the spilled to-go cup now drained on the sidewalk.

“Well, I guess I’ll need that number so I can buy you a new one.” Kara recovers. Elena clears her throat.

“Kara, can I have my hand back?”

“Can I have your number?” Kara tries again. She isn't usually this forward but something is telling her not to miss this chance. Elena rolls her eyes.

“If I am going to give you my phone to put your number in, I will need my hand back.” Kara brakes into a huge grin and releases Elena. The dark-haired woman pulls her phone out of her back pocket and hands it over after unlocking it. Kara enters her number and sends herself a quick text.

“I'm still leaving town in a few days.” Elena tries.

“Looks like I'll have to take you to dinner tonight.”

Elena shakes her head. The loose bun on her head flopping a little. She pushes her glasses back up her nose.

“I can't tonight. Tomorrow though. I’ll have a few nights off work.”

“Hmm… a beautiful mysterious woman works a night job on weekends.”

“And that's all you will get for now,” Elena says, cursing herself for saying that much.

“Goodbye, Elena Colby. I'll call you tomorrow.”

Kara runs off in the opposite direction of where Lena was headed back to her hotel. The loss of her coffee was eclipsed by the distinct raised abdominal muscles of the persistent blonde that clouded Lena’s judgment.

Lena had to recover before her second performance tonight. After that, the tour was going to have a two-week hiatus and Lena was strongly considering spending that time in National City. She tried to shake off the image of the half-naked and actually very muscular woman but she had a feeling that that would be playing a role in her dreams tonight. Lena heads to buy another coffee before going back to her hotel to get dressed for the day.

***

K- How do you feel about Chinese food?

Kara glances at her phone again, waiting for a response from Elena. She had texted the woman, too impatient to wait for tomorrow to call. Frowning, she heads back to the mat to wait for her trainee to come back from his water break. James was a nice guy. He was friends with her cousin and had just moved to National City a couple months ago. Apparently, Clark had recommended he find Kara and train with her to make a friend and also learn some self-defense after being mugged in Metropolis. They fell into an easy friendship that didn't venture much outside the gym except for the occasional coffee or meal after a workout. Sometimes he would join her, Winn, and Alex for game night.

“You keep checking your phone,” James states while strapping back on his gloves.

“Yeah, I'm waiting for someone to respond. Now put 'em up.” Kara raises her padded gloves for James to hit.

They work methodically together. Kara calling out various moves for James to perform while she blocks each one. They work for about another half an hour before it's time to go. Kara is drying off her arms with a towel when she realizes that James is standing awkwardly in front of her.

“Hey. So I was wondering if you would like to get dinner with me tomorrow night.”

“Like a date?”

“Oh yeah. I mean if not that's cool.”

“Well actually, umm… I kind of already have a date for tomorrow. That's the text I was waiting on earlier.” James looks like a kicked puppy at the news.

“Sorry. Raincheck?” Kara didn't want to turn him down completely. James was a nice guy and all. Probably good for her too. But Elena intrigued her and she couldn't pass up this chance, even if she was leaving soon. It seems to brighten the man.

“Raincheck.” He repeats before leaving the gym. Kara looks back down at her phone and smiles.

E- Can sushi be involved?

K- I guess I could find a place that serves both. I'll send you an address when I do. I would pick you up but I actually don't have a car. How does 7 sound?

E- So do you just run everywhere then? Not that I don't enjoy the view. Seven sounds great.

K- walking or the bus. Sometimes I use my sister's bike but she needs it tomorrow. Besides, National City is best explored on foot. You miss too much otherwise.

E- Guess you'll have to show me around properly then. I'll see you tomorrow at seven.

Lena put down her phone and focused on getting ready for tonight after chuckling at the string of emoji's. She couldn't believe she was breaking almost all her rules and going out with this girl. She never let herself get attached. Attachment led to heartbreak and Lena had enough of that. She takes another swig from the flask and winces slightly at the burning liquid. Jessica sat on the couch managing Lena's life almost down to the second. Lena didn't know what to do without the woman. Jessica had been by her side since the label found her during her final year of college, well when she was eighteen. A talent show Lena had entered on a dare from her then-girlfriend led to her winning and signing a deal with Green Diamond Records. Here she was, two albums, three tours, and five years later. The only person she considered anywhere near to a friend was paid to be here.

Lena decides to leaf through the newspaper left on her dressing table. The front page is, of course, her sold-out concert. Something catches her eye in the bottom half of the paper though. A blurry, dark image of a hooded figure punching another shadowy form. The title reads Justice or Revenge? The word vigilante stands out in the small text so Lena starts reading.

Two nights ago another rapist and Cadmus gang member was apprehended by National City’s Vigilante. The criminal was left tied in an alleyway after an anonymous tip was called into the police. The photo was taken by CatCo’s own photographer, James Olsen who just happened to be working on another story for his own publication. The National City police would like to remind everyone that vigilantism is illegal and the apprehension of criminals should be left to the professionals. Any information about this person should be reported to...

Lena kept reading. There wasn't much. Only that whoever this was had been bringing in a lot of low-level criminals who the police were having trouble finding. Each had enough evidence to be convicted for several long years also. Lena decides to pull out her phone and look for more pictures but apparently, the one from this James Olsen was the only one in existence. No wonder the police couldn't identify them.

“Isn't that interesting news? I mean first the crazy guy in Gotham and now whoever this is taking on Cadmus. “ Jess says from behind Lena.

“Yeah, it takes a certain type of crazy to take on criminals like that.”

“It also takes a certain kind of crazy to do what you do.” Jess points out.

“I never said I was sane.” Lena drawls out. Jess laughs.

“Neither am I. But hey, crazy loves company.”

“Misery loves company.” Lena corrects.

“That too. Alright. Time for the last sound check.”

***

Kara carefully wound the bandage around her bruised ribs. Hissing at the soft pressure that brings slight relief once it's in place. The punch didn't break anything but it still hurt like hell.

“Kara!” Alex calls through the apartment. She winces at the anger in her sister's voice. Kara pulls her shirt back down, hiding the evidence of tonight's activities. Slowly Kara walks out of her bathroom and into the kitchen. Alex throws this morning's paper at her. She sees it. The picture that no one should have caught because it was three in the morning two nights ago. It just so happened to be at the time that James just happened to be working on another story about corruption at the docks.

“So they finally got a picture of this vigilante,” Kara says, trying to remain neutral.

“You know I couldn't figure out how they avoided leaving evidence of any kind. How every camera had been avoided. Now it makes sense. I trained you. Taught you more than I should.”

“I don't know what you are talking about.”

“Save it, Kara. I bought that red and blue hoodie for you last Christmas. The marks left on the captives are consistent with a professional fighter. Most of the men would take significant strength to bring down. I know it's you. You have lied to my face about this for the last time.”

Alex is serious. If Kara pushes this could be their worse fight yet. Alex knows and Kara can't pretend any longer. Kara drops her head and goes to sit on the couch, hoping that siting will de-escalate the tension before Alex actually explodes. She winces as the bandages pull at her bruised ribs.

“Okay. Yes. It's me. I couldn't keep doing nothing. Not after that girl was raped and left to die not four blocks from here. Not when I can do something.” Alex follows Kara but doesn't sit.

“Kara! You need to leave this to the professionals. The police are trying to do their job and they can't if you are…”

“If I'm what?!” Kara explodes, standing again in front of her sister.

“If I am leaving criminals nicely tied up with everything but a bow? If I am leaving them alive and willing to testify against those even higher up? If I am giving people hope?”

“That isn't the point. It's illegal, what you are doing. It has been since the crazy Archer started killing off corrupt politicians in Starling City two years ago.”

“I'm not killing anyone! The police aren't actively looking for me because of that. Yes, they warn against it and try to seem like they are doing something but most of those cops are relieved that something can actually be done. Maggie told me so.” That makes Alex pause.

“Maggie knows?”

“Not who I am. She just thanked me after the third guy I practically dropped on the hood of her cruiser. I wear a mask and use a voice modulator.”

“How the hell do you have a voice modulator?” Kara winces. Knowing she slipped up again.

“Umm...Winn?”

“Winn!?”

“Well yeah, he's like super smart. Like the top IT guy for CatCo smart should have gone to MIT smart... Well, he made me a mask and a voice modulator and he's actually working on a suit for me to wear.”

“Winn knows.” Alex states.

“Winn gave me the idea. He has supported me through this whole thing.”

“I'm going to kill him.”

“Alex leave him out of this. It was my choice.”

“It's a stupid choice!”

“Well, I made it. And I'm not changing my mind now!” Kara yells back. She was right. This would be their worst fight. The never yelled like this. Not since Kara's very misguided choice of dating that man-child Mike.

“Kara!”

“Alex! For the first time since I quit the ring I feel like myself. Like helping people is what I am meant to do.”

“You can help people in other ways.”

“And I will. I'm going to start teaching self-defense lessons at different schools. But this, Alex this is making a difference. I can already see it.”

“You could get killed,” Alex says, suddenly soft.

“Or I'll risk regretting my life. I know the danger is real. That is why I am careful. It's why Winn has my back.”

“How does Winn have your back?” Alex asks.

“Umm… not something I think I can tell a federal agent who already hates him.” Alex finally sits on the couch and Kara follows her.

“Just promise me you won't be reckless.”

“I swear. We don't do anything without a plan.”

“Okay. So why did you ask me to come over then? I assume it wasn't so we could scream at each other.”

“I have a date tomorrow.” Kara grins at her big sister.

“Who?”

“The girl from Noonan’s. I literally ran into her at the park and pulled the smoothest line ever.”

“Blushing, babbling Kara Danvers pulled a smooth line on a pretty girl? Now I know your lying.”

“Well, I set myself up for it yesterday, even though it was the cheesiest thing to say, ever. I told her if I saw her again it would be fate or destiny and I would ask for her number again. Then on my usual morning jog, I turned a corner in the park and literally had to catch her from falling. She agreed to a date once I called it fate again.”

“You realize that your 'morning jog’ is something most people train for months to do once?”

“Not the point Alex.”

“Right, so does this girl believe in fate then?”

“No, I just think it was a good line.”

“Okay, so where are you taking her?”

“I want potstickers and she wants sushi so I was thinking that new Fusion restaurant. But I have no idea what to wear. I mean I haven't been on a date since forever. Help me?” Alex laughs at the pleading look on her sister’s face and stands to go look through her closet.

“You could do with fewer cardigans, you know,” Alex calls from the other room.

“I like them. They go with everything.” Kara calls back as she gets up to follow her sister.

“Well, they aren't really first date-worthy. Give me a second. I think I remember you having.. ah, here it is. Now if only you had… these work… shoes...shoes...shoes…” Alex is mumbling to herself while Kara sits on her bed to wait.

“Perfect!” Alex exclaims.

Kara perks up as Alex lays the outfit out on the bed. A dark blue off the shoulder shirt she forgot she owned with black ripped jeans and ankle boots.

“Blue was always your color. And arms are probably one of your best features. Especially for sweeping pretty girls off their feet.” Kara squeals and hugs her sister excitedly.

“Thank you, Alex!” Alex brings her arms up to hug Kara back. The pressure causes Kara to intake a sharp breath. Alex doesn't even ask what's wrong. She jerks her sister’s shirt up to find the bandages wrapping Kara’s torso.

“Kara!”

“It's fine Alex. Just some bruised ribs. Nothing is broken.” Kara thinks she can literally see Alex swallowing her next words. She just nods instead, not wanting to renew the anger already.

“Have fun on your date tomorrow. I have to go. Maggie and I are meeting to go over another case.”

“Have fun on your date then.” Alex rolls her eyes.

“It's not a date. Our superiors are just glad we are closing a bunch of cases. She has good connections on the streets. I have good connections in the FBI.”

“Okay, sis. But I'm calling it now.”

“Calling what?”

“Being the maid of honor at your wedding.” Alex begins sputtering in response.

“Goodbye, Kara. Remember the three date rule.”

“Three date rule?” That gives Alex some of her swagger back.

“Bye Kara.” She calls over her shoulder on the way to the door.

“Alex!” Kara calls after the woman, the door shuts without further explanation.

[diningpageantry]

You Take Me to The Stars

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15390507/chapters/36027609

Chapter 4 of 4 of Room for The Two of Us (read chapter 1, chapter 2, and chapter 3 here, as well as their corresponding tumblr posts here, here, and here)

Word Count: 3584

Description: Christmas Eve dinner at the Pitch manor doesn't quite go as well as one would hope, but the night isn't completely set ablaze.

Tags (for this chapter): Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort

hey guys there’s a spotify playlist that i made that goes very specifically with a certain part of the fic! i would highly recommend reading the fic before listening to it (and to say, yes, baz is listening to the fist song on the playlist). besides that, i hope you enjoy the finishing wrap up of the fic! i hope you enjoyed it as much as i did

BAZ

         Snow’s obviously never dressed properly in his life, but he’s a killer in a sharp suit and brushed hair.

         Thankfully, he let me do that much to it. I offered him some gel and he looked at me like a madman, so I kissed the look off his face. He kissed me back, tasting like hot chocolate and the little peppermint marshmallows he kept sneaking earlier today.

         He tastes like the excitement of a falsely working heart skipping a beat.

         He tastes like the knowledge that my father is disappointed in me, but that doesn’t matter. It won’t matter in less than a year, at most, when I drag Snow off somewhere for us to hide from the currently brewing war. We’ll be happy there, and I won’t have to endure the comments about how it’s unnatural that I like men.

         I’m nothing close to natural with or without my queerness, but that’s not addressed.

         Bigotry is only fashionable when you’re able to be public about it, I suppose.

         But I won’t let it stop me; I won’t let it stop my beautiful mess of a boyfriend kiss me in the foyer, snowflakes dusting his hair after I nearly lost it at Nicodemus. I won’t let it stop my sneaking smile as he tells me that he’ll make proper use of my ridiculously large bed that always felt like a sea of untouched satin and silk. It’ll never stop the fact that I’m going to dress my star-shine explosion for the gods for dinner before taking his hand, kissing scarred knuckles and leading him to the table, fingers still keeping an iron-tight grip over his hand.

         Father’s icicle-sharp eyes follow our pressed palms and matching scents (Snow’s wearing my cologne; his call), stabbing their sharp ends into my chest as I keep a leveled gaze, lips curling into a half-smile. It’s fake. “Holding up the festivities for us? Oh, you truly didn’t have to.”

SIMON

         Everyone’s sat at the table, looking like they’re about to meet the bloody Queen. (Maybe they already know the Queen? I wouldn’t be surprised; this house is practically Buckingham Palace, without all the guards) (Maybe Baz is supposed to be the guard?) (Oh, now I have to get him a knockoff hat). Even though it’s the holidays, it’s a ghost town. He has extended family, obviously (probably), but for what’s usually a huge family dinner, it’s just Baz’s step-siblings, his dad, and his step-mum at an awfully dramatic set up, and they’re all dressed to all hell’s length.

         It’s clear that Baz fits in with the posh attitudes and stature of his family. Makes sense why he was fussing over what shoes I was wearing to dinner, despite the fact that I kept trying to tell him that “Baz, it’s indoors. Why do we need shoes?” But he got me in them anyway, telling me I look dashing.

         He thinks he can call me handsome and it fixes everything. I mean, it usually does, but that doesn’t matter. His regular compliments feel alien, especially given the fact that he’s so particularly soft when he does it that he calls me Simon properly, without a tone of sarcasm.

         It took some adjusting. That, and he likes kissing. A lot. And everywhere. If I’m even changing my shirt, he’ll find a way to kiss my shoulder before I put the new one on. Can vampires mark their territory? Or is that too much like a werewolf? If vampires can, then I’m going to assume that that is exactly what Baz is trying to do. I think. He tried snogging me in a corridor during one of our last days at Watford before break and I had to spell us invisible so a second year wouldn’t catch us with my hand up the front of his shirt.

         I like it, though. It feels awfully natural to have Baz on my lap, or his hand pressed against my hand.

         It feels more natural than most other things I do.

         Being here, even with his family’s eyes (or, mostly it’s his father’s) staring daggers into us as we sit side by side, close enough to keep our hands locked as dinner begins feels natural.

         It’s relatively quiet for the first bit. Foods pass around, Baz turns it down (I hold his hand tighter), and everyone eats in what seems to be their own private bubble. Some conversations pop up, like Father Christmas or classes at Watford and how they’re different from Baz’s parent’s day.

         Which, of course, provokes the conversation of the old days. Baz holds my hand tighter as his father begins to go on.

         “Back when I attended Watford, it was proper magic families, with proper power.” He looks at me, avoiding to look between us. Baz’s knuckles are a ghostly white as he squeezes the life out of mine. Mr. Grimm continues, glancing at Baz. “When I attended Watford, the boys would date girls, as they’re supposed to. And they’d marry in roughly as powerful families, with roughly the same amount of magic, give or take a little.” His voice seems to lower but doesn’t tremble in the slightest. “It’s all about keeping the bloodlines pure, isn’t it, Basilton?”

         I can feel his anger bubble up even before I dare sneak a glance at his face. It’s stone cold, as calculating as ever. Then he smiles that venomous smile of his. “The concept of purity is obsolete,” he says slowly, the stiff grin plastered across his face, “if there can’t be an allotment for happiness.”

         The air is starched rigid as his father shoots a look at our hands before looking back up at Baz’s face, a smile mimicking his with all the intent. “You’re a disappointment to the bloodline.”

         And that’s where Baz snaps.

BAZ

         I barely feel my own body as I untangle my hand from Snow’s, throwing the neatly set out napkin that previously took seat on my lap onto my empty plate as I stand, chair scraping aggressively against the floor. Good, I think as father cringes. I meant that.  “Excuse me, I’m going to my room. No need to follow, because either way, I’ll still be a disappointing faggot.” I shoot him a lasting grin before stomping off, heading off and slamming the door behind me.

SIMON

         I don’t follow him immediately. Partially out of fear, partially out of shock. It takes a few seconds and a few empty, unknowing glances to his family (are they really letting this happen?) before excusing myself nearly silently, pushing my chair in behind me before starting back towards where I saw Baz disappeared off to.

         In all honesty, I have absolutely no idea where I’m going in this house. It takes a good five minutes of looking for landmarks (a painting, a statue, something) to find even a familiar hallway, then another ten to find Baz’s room.

         Fortunately, it’s not locked, so I step in to try to find him. At first, I don’t see a sign of him until I notice that his bathroom light is on, flooding out from the crack underneath the door.

         Silently, I shut the door and make my way over, creaking open the bathroom entrance, and there he is. His jacket is unbuttoned, and he undid a couple more of the buttons on his shirt. His god-awful indoor shoes are thankfully abandoned as he just sprawls back in his ridiculously luxurious bathtub, earbuds in as he listens to god knows what. Whatever it is, it’s nearly deafening, even from here. Heavy base, blasting pump by pump in his ears. I see his head movements go along with it to it, eyes shut and mouth soundlessly following the words. It’s aggressive. He’s aggressive. His lips curl as he silently spits out long phrases, and when it’s just instrumental, his brow furrows as he nods to it. It’s reckless.

         He is reckless, and I love that. Even with sad smiles and worried tugs at my heart, I know inside me that it’s just Baz being his dramatic self.

         I walk over, sitting in the tub with my back to him before laying against his chest, taking his hands in mine and kissing them, loose presses of my lips against the knuckles that were earlier holding on for dear life. At first shoots his eyes open to watch me, then he relaxes against me, body shifting to accommodate my mass existing between him and the outside world. He accepts me into his own bubble.

         “Why’d you pick the bathtub?” I ask as he turns off his music, setting his phone aside. He takes the moment to push my hair back, lips ghosting over my forehead.

         “Because,” he begins, his voice dipping to a private murmur. “It’s the only place that I know you’re mad enough to look for me in, but nobody else would take the effort to find.”

         I smile, sinking into him. He’s the ocean, and I’m an anchor, drifting against his current, but sinking to the bottom. He holds me there, arms cradled against mine in a protective clutch. I can’t be swept away, so I just settle against him, letting the world surround us in its allowing embrace.

BAZ

         “Did you know,” Snow fills the air, head lolling back to perch against my shoulder. I steal a few kisses from his cheek. He smiles, continuing, “did you know that-that I thought about you constantly? For years, Baz. Years.”

         I chuckle against him, trying to refrain myself. It comes out anyway. “I would hope so; we’ve been sharing a room since we were 11, Snow.” He pinches my hand.

         “Stop being cheeky,” he whispers back, smiling. Good. Smile. “I meant… I guess… You know…” Snow exhales slowly; I watch his chest deflate as I rest a hand over his heart. “I followed you around and watched you sleep and… and… fuck, this is embarrassing, so don’t tell anyone, okay?”

         “Who do I have to tell?” I remind him, undoing his shirt buttons carefully and painstakingly slowly before pressing my fingertips to his skin. Warm; heart pulsing under his skin.

         He seems to watch my hand as it rests, his head turning to fill his face into my neck. He breathes in. “I may have thought of you while kissing Agatha sometimes,” he mumbles into me. I can feel him blush. “Used to think it was because I was thinking of you going off and doing some shit, or because I was worried about you stealing Agatha way, but I… I guess not? I don’t know. It’s stupid. I would chase after you and watch you sleep. Christ, Baz, I was a nutcase. I’m stupid.”

         My fingertips trace circles around his skin before sliding down a little to let my palm rest. “It’s not stupid at all. Do you know how often I thought of you, Simon?”

         He shakes his head once. Twice.

         “I spent the majority of fifth year hating myself and you because I felt like I could never have you. That’s why I essentially went off that year on you; I was hurt. I was angry at myself, I was upset because the world wouldn’t let me have you. You, Simon, are always at the forethoughts of my mind.” I stop, shifting us a little so I can look into his eyes. They’re perfectly him. “Have you ever really taken a look at the clear night sky and watched the stars?”

         Snow shakes his head again, listening intensely.

         I relax us back again, pulling him close, feeling all his working life pump against my empty body; I don’t mind it at all anymore. Snow has enough life for the two of us. “I used to; mum would tell me how she hung the moon for my father. Even after her death, I’d gaze up and count as many stars as I could before I’d drift off to sleep, dreaming of constellations. I always wanted to be a story in the sky; remembered for eternity. In my dreams, I’d reach up and pluck a star from the sky and keep it close, let it keep me warm. We’d be symbiotic, the star and I.” My lips press to Snow’s head, breathing him in for a second. My star. “You’re a supergiant, Simon. You burn brighter than anything I’ve ever seen, and you burn me from the outside in. I’m just the floating black matter, surrounding your phenomenal pull and I can’t back away, clinging to your existence.

         “Father told me that holding a star would hurt me, and Crowley, I burn when I hold you, but you’re a sickness that I never want to recover from. I close my eyes are there you are, my match in the dark. I open my eyes and you’re still there, blinding me with your UV rays. Each time you kiss me, you shoot me out into the oblivion of the universe and we dance among the swirling galaxies and the bursting supernovas of your aura. You take me to the stars, Snow, and I breathe in the bursting gas-flames of your life because that’s all I’ve ever wanted; a star in my hands.”

         He looks up at me like I’ve pulled him out of my pocket, leaving a burst of stardust behind me as he shoots up into my sky in a smile, kissing me and filling my inky-black hole of a life with his sunshine. He lingers, hands shooting into my hair to hold me in place as he kisses me sweetly.

         Eventually, he lets back, eyes exploring my face. “How long’ve you been working on that one?” he breathes, lips twitching into a grin. I grin back.

         “A little too long,” I whisper back, a hand resting against his hip. “Much longer that I’d care to admit.”

         He seals that with a kiss, shutting me up for a good while.

SIMON

         He’s so ridiculous.

         That’s what I love him for.

BAZ

         Snow presses an extra kiss against my cheek once he breaks apart, analyzing me. Studying me. I wonder if I’m his favorite book to read.

         “If all of this,” he waves over us briefly, “never happened, what do you think would’ve happened? Would you have told me?”

         “Do you want the honest answer?”

         “I don’t want anything but that.”

         “Well,” I say, shifting him in against me. “I would’ve probably taken it to the very end. You’d have a swing at me, crash that sword into my chest and then, then I’d finally tell you. I’d let it out at the very end, in a brilliant blaze of glory, and I’d kiss you with my last breath.”

         He snorts at me. Not the response I wanted, but maybe the response I needed.

         “What?”

         “Nothing.” He kisses my cheek, giggling just the slightest.

         “No, really, what is it?”

         “It’s just… so you. Make me suffer after killing you. Last bow, eh?”

         I grin. I suppose he’s right, it is very in-character of me. “It’s better than never telling you; it needs to be put out there. Life isn’t unlimited, and therefore our thoughts and feelings are limited, too. Human existence is finite. One day, neither of us will exist, and it’s pointless not to let it out before that happens.”

         His eyes bare a hole into my face, scorching it. I meet them.

SIMON

         I can’t help but watch him, heart tugging. He’s right. We’re only here so long, and maybe I’m here much shorter than he is. Maybe we’re both not here for so much longer. “Where do you want to be in three years?” I know my answer; anywhere. Alive somewhere. Alive and holding Baz’s hand.

         He blinks blankly, staring at me before cocking an eyebrow. Not the expected question, probably. He lowers it after a moment, looking over me. “I’m serious, Baz. I want to know.”

         Baz clears his throat, seeming to think. “Okay. Alright, I want to be in uni. I want a flat in London. I want a black cat to live there with me, preferably with a ridiculous name like “Muffins”. That flat should have high ceilings and a balcony, and room for a boyfriend to be there with me when he pleases. A golden boyfriend who responds to Snow.”

         I smile, biting my lip. “I just want to be alive,” I whisper. His eyes flash to mine and I see him flinch in the slightest. He knows what I mean.

         “Merlin, Snow, I didn’t mean that we were going so soon. Don't say that sort of shit we’ll be just--“

         “Baz,” I whisper, holding his face and grinning. “It’s not something we can avoid, so we enjoy it now. You said it yourself, we’re limited. So, just kiss me, okay? That’s good enough for me right now. It’s more than good enough; you’re more than good enough.”

         “I’m not—we need to figure out something, Snow. You’re not going to—“

         “Human existence is finite,” I echo, eyes darting around his face. He needs to listen. He needs to know. “If we don't make it, or even if it’s just me who doesn't make it out of this year alone, that’s fine with me, because we’re here right now.” Listen to me, Baz. We’re not in some fantasy world where everything will be all daisies. This will all end one day, and maybe too fast. Listen to me, Baz. Please.

BAZ

         He’s acting like I don’t know. That I haven’t woken up every morning since our first morning as “us” thinking about how limited we are. That I don’t trace my fingers around his moles, making constellations on a ticking time-bomb as I stand in the blast-radius.

         He’s acting like I might step away later to avoid the radiation.

         I don’t want to.

         No, it isn't that I don't want to; I can’t.

         No matter how much he might want me away then, I’ll be superglued to his side. I’ve got him on a fucking leash (not literally; we’re not really that kinky yet) (and I can’t imagine that Snow would be the one on the leash) (now’s not the time for that). I’m with him until it all goes up in blaze, whether it’s glorious or not.

         And I tell him that.

         And he stares at me with his big Simon-Snow-Eyes.

         And he kisses me with that beautiful Simon-Snow-Mouth.

         And he holds me with his strong Simon-Snow-Arms.

         And I just hold him, trying to calm myself against him. He’s here, I’m here. We’re here for now, and when he pulls away, I make a quick getaway to his moles, trying to get lost again, trying to get drunk off of him alone, but he holds me back, looking into my eyes. He’s trying to get through, and I’m trying to get out.

         But I let him in, because he’s always allowed into me.

         “Can we at least act like happy boyfriends right now?” I crack; I shatter.

         He’s right there, though, with the glue. “Okay, yes. I’m sorry, yes. We… we... Yeah.” He shifts against me, fingers trailing back to my hair. That’s always where he goes. “We’ll talk about something else. We’ll—“

         “We’ll fake it?” That was a tad meaner than I meant, but it’s the truth.

         He looks like I’ve stabbed him, his face dropping the slightest. He knows I’m right. “No.” No?

         “No?”

         “No. I won’t fake what I’m actually happy about.”

         I lick my bottom lip. “And what is that, Snow?”

         “When you confuse me,” he says softly, “I used to hate when you’d confuse me. I didn’t know what to do, and it just made me angry, but I’m happy that I can figure it out now.”

         Merlin, Snow. I bite my lip, stopping a smile. I never wanted to smile this much. I’m going to get back at you for that one day.

         One day, I’m going to make you smile so much that it’ll hurt.

         “I’m happy that you let me touch your hair.”

         My heart strings are pulling, Snow. Please.

         “I’m happy that you kiss that spot on my neck. I’ve figured it’s a mole by now, and I quite like it.”

         “Snow…”

         “I’m so happy, Baz. I’m happier than I could have ever imagined—“

         “Simon,” I breathe. He shuts up. “You don’t have to…”

         “I want to. I want you to know, Baz. I want you to know every word, because nothing else matters to me anymore. It’s because we’re limited. I don’t care about anything else anymore. I’ll jump off a fucking cliff if you told me to because you’re all that matters anymore in this fucked up world. I know you want us to be optimistic, but I want us to just exist. I’m so much happier just existing, Baz, so please. Just let us exist.”

         I’ll give him this. I’ll give him his world. “I…”

         He smiles, kissing my sentence short. “Look, I know I’m shit at talking, and you’re shit at listening, but I’m trying.”

         My lips turn up against his, keeping there. He’s right. “You’re right, for once. You are shit at talking.” We kiss again. It’s a sweet peck. “I’m happy about that.” Peck. Peck. “I suppose I’m also happy that we’re existing, love.”

         He closes his eyes. Peck. Then one sticks, staying as I hold his shoulders.

         He falls back for air, eyes meeting mine. “Love?”

         I grin. My cheeks ache. “Love,” I breathe, going back to him for more.

[kiroiimye]

fearless

She reminds him of a rainstorm. Like the rain, she’s mesmerizing to watch. Like the low roar of the thunder, it reminds him of the startling dangerous things she’s capable of. Like the dark clouds above, there’s a darkness inside of her that makes him uneasy. Not uneasy of her, no. But more like uneasy of the things the darkness could do to her. He knows the darkness had corrupted her once, but no matter how many times she reassured him… He sighs as he climbs into his car and guns his engines. As he backs out of his driveway, he lets his thoughts drift to her again. That loose blonde hair…her smile…those eyes. God, she drives him insane. As he drives to her house to pick her up, there’s a light tapping on his windows. His gaze flits to the right and there’s little droplets of rain splattering onto his window. He curses under his breath. Damn, rain on her birthday? She probably won’t like that, he muses inwardly. There is a buzz from his phone in his cup holder and he notices a notification. Pulling over to the side, he picks up his phone and opens the message.

Hey, you here yet? Ur paying for my birthday lunch after all ;)

He smirks, reading over the short little message. His fingers quickly tap out a reply.

On my way. Bummer, there’s rain and traffic :/

As he starts his engines again, his phone buzzes again.

Eh, I like rain. U better hurry up tho. I’m starving.

He chuckles at her response and clears the notification, before driving off again.

* As he pulls up to her house, the rain comes down harder. The mere idea of the rain stopping; ha! A joke, he thinks. His fingers fly across the keyboard.

Outside.

There’s a ping from his phone and he doesn’t even get a chance to look at it, as there was a light tapping on his car window, with a familiar face peering at him. He grins and rolls down his windows. “Did you need help madam?” he teases. Her dark eyes twinkle playfully as she banters back, “I’m looking for a male individual. He’s incredibly handsome, has horrible music taste, and loves surfing. You’ve seen him?” He leans out his window and pokes her forehead. “Get in, you.” Rolling her eyes, she flips her hair, walks around the side, and climbs into the car. “So, where are we going?” she asks. “Birthday girl picks,” he replies amicably. “Hmm…what about Starbucks first, movie, and then lunch date?” she offers. His heart flutters a little at the word ‘date’, but he dismisses the feeling. He figured a while ago she didn’t see him like that. He flashes her a smile. “I’m down.” Her hands make a shooing motion. “Then drive, my fair Uber driver.” He sticks his tongue out at her as he guns his engines. “Since when was I your Uber?” “Since today. Now hurry up. I want my white girl Starbucks.” He laughs as the car sped off towards the shopping area.

* As they pass the rows of neat little houses, she smooths out the dress she had picked for the day. It’s her favorite dress; with a white top and white lace arm sleeves, simple black belt, and a navy blue tulle skirt. She’s wearing a touch of makeup for the occasion and black gladiator sandals. Of course, it didn’t matter. He was so oblivious it was pathetic. Can’t you see I’m in love with you?

*

They roll up at Starbucks. It’s pouring outside and he doesn’t have an umbrella with him. Shit, he thinks. I hope she doesn’t mind getting soaked. As if reading his mind, she says out loud, “No umbrella?” He answers with silence. Peering at her, he sees her nod determinedly. She pokes him. “Let’s go slowpoke.” He raises an eyebrow. “Don’t mind getting a little rain?” “Nah.” The two open their doors and step out into the rain together. It hits them hard, soaking their clothes within the first couple of seconds. The wind whips her hair and the faint rolling sound of thunder echoes up above. “RUN!” she shouts at him, laughing, and she sprints towards the little coffee shop. Her laughter is infectious. He laughs too and darts after her and matches her long strides, pace by pace. They fling open the door and to both of their surprise, it’s emptier than they thought. A lone bartender stands at the counter, and an old couple sits in a booth, sipping their hot chocolate and holding hands from across the table. The two of them approach the counter. “Hey, can we have one Vanilla Bean Créme and a Caramel Macchiato? Venti size please.” “Names?” He gives them their names. The bartender nods and takes two cups to scribble their names, before turning over his shoulder to make their order. “You need to dry off?” he asks her. She nods. “Yeah, I’ll be back in a few.” She hurries to the bathroom and he waits for their order.

*

“God, I’m such a mess,” she mumbles to herself, running a hand through her damp hair. She had squeezed out as much water as she could from her dress, but it was still soaked, much to her chagrin. “Oh well, he won’t mind,” she decides out loud, before leaving the bathroom. When she’s back in the warm little shop, her eyes catch sight of him. He’s sitting in the corner table, in his damp clothes, watching the rain. Their cups sit on the table, untouched. She makes her away over to him. “Hey,” she says. He smiles. “Hey.”

*

He looks her up and down, scrutinizing her. Her princessy blonde curls was damp and her clothes were soaked to the skin. Her body shakes slightly. She’s cold, he realizes. Obviously feeling self conscious, she covers her shoulders with her arms. “What?” she demands. “Nothing,” he replies, and looks away. Underneath his breath, he whispers, “You look beautiful.” It’s a shame she doesn’t hear it.

•

The two drink their Starbucks in silence, occasionally making small talk. After finishing, they toss their cups into the trash can and walk out. It’s still pouring outside. The wind had stopped and low rumble of thunder was no more. However, the skies are stormy and dark, and the pitter-patter of rain never-ceasing. As they prepare to walk to the car, he’s hit with an idea. What if…? He fumbles with his phone and earbuds, plugging the small cord into his phone. When he looks up, she’s about to step into the rain. “Wait!” Her eyes dart to his as he takes her hand. He watches her cheeks flush a faint shade of pink. Or maybe it was just his imagination. “Dance with me,” he says simply. She freezes, before nodding. “Brilliant.” He hands her an earbud and she tugs at his phone. He gives it up and she picks a song. The familiar tune drifts into his ears and he gives her a strange look, as if saying, why? She simply laughs and drags him out into the pouring rain.

There’s something about the way The street looks when it’s just rained There’s a glow off the pavement You walk me to the car And you know I wanna ask you to dance right there In the middle of the parking lot, yeah

Close enough to truth, he muses inwardly. They were dancing in the parking lot, in the rain, as they were walking to his car. He twirls her, and he hears her giggle, making him smile.

We’re driving down the road And I wonder if you know I’m trying so hard not to get caught up now But you’re just so cool Run your hands through your hair Absentmindedly making me want you

Pulling away from him, she twirls on her and splashes around in the rain. She runs a hand through her soaking wet hair and tosses it around playfully to the beat of the song. He couldn’t help but watch her; she was in her own little world and he was lost, lost in the sight of her.

*

‘Cause I don’t know how it Gets better than this You take my hand and drag me head first Fearless And I don’t know how but With you I dance In the storm In my best dress Fearless

She’s drunk on the feeling, this strange idea! Dancing in the rain like a fool, a madman! Oh what would her parents say? But at this point, she could care less. She feels his presence from behind and he takes her hand once again, twirling her and catching her. They move their arms to the beat of the song, laughing at their dancing and the naive foolishness of what they’re doing. It didn’t matter; the moment was perfect.

And you stood there with me in my doorway My hands shake I’m not usually this way but You pull me in and I’m a little more brave It’s a first kiss, it’s flawless Really something It’s fearless

Caught up in the moment, as if in a trance, he pulls her closer to him. He’s so close, she could feel his breath on her face. She watched him swallow nervously, biting his lip. Knowing him, knowing her, he wasn’t going to make a move anytime soon. She yanks his collar down and presses her lips on his. It’s short and sweet and ends too soon.

She’s breathless when they pull away and he looks almost mystified at the action. Shaking out of his reverie, he pulls her to him again and kisses her, this time more passionately.

‘Cause I don’t know how it Gets better than this You take my hand and drag me head first Fearless And I don’t know how but With you I dance In the storm In my best dress Fearless

They’re breathless when they pull away. He manages a stammer, albeit nervously. “You know…” “Yeah. I know.” He brushes her cheek tenderly at her words. Her gray eyes sparkle, analyzing him, deep into his bones. “You just wanna kiss me again, don’t you?” He grins. “You know me too well.” “Well. I’m not stopping you,” she returns playfully. His eyes are bright at that and he kisses her again. Again. Again. He kisses her in the pouring rain, unafraid, because, when he’s with her, she makes him fearless.

have a super old fanfic because why not?

also hello i’m alive. 

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @kaneshirotakeshi!

I hope you find this satisfying! I enjoyed writing it, and it was a good challenge because I usually write darker fiction. Happy happy merry merry!

—-

Saturdays

Derek puts the earbuds in and starts the workout mix.

The sun is still behind the eastern mountains, and the trees are barely beginning to show against the dawn sky. Stiles will complain at him, again, that this is far too early for any sane being to arise, and that his werewolf powers probably make all this exercise useless, anyway.

Derek has only once tried to point out how Isaac and Jackson and Scott never bulked-up the same way Derek did. And though Derek doesn’t remember it, Stiles knows that teenage Derek wasn’t so muscular, though he very specifically doesn’t mention that during their ritual banter, and doesn’t tell Derek anything useful when Derek asks him why his heart skips a beat. The wolf smiles at these memories at the same time Stiles sighs contentedly in their large, comfortable bed.

Stiles and Derek have a routine now that serves as a sort of check-in with each other. Each Saturday, after all the business week stuff was done, they know their day just won’t be the same if they don’t have a playful argument about Derek’s too-early weekend wake-up times. Today, though, as with most Saturdays anymore, Stiles is sleeping well and was free from nightmares. In fact, it’s been weeks since the last one, and Stiles is counting each new day as a win against the harsh past. Derek decides they should celebrate, and alters the course of his run to detour through town.

Back at the house, in the comfort of a bed he’s just finishing sleeping so soundly in, Stiles is blissfully and warmly unbothered by negative thoughts. He curls himself tighter against the pillow. When Derek said he was going out ofr a run, Stiles had barely woken at all, and muttered something unintelligible, even to Dereks’ superior werewolf hearing. As Stiles absorbs the last of Derek’s heat from the pillows and covers, he starts himself awake at the subconscious realization that he’s alone in the blanketed expanse.

As he comes to a more full awareness, he notices the bed is empty. The whiteboard on the wall, hung next to the bedroom door in an intentionally eye-catching sport, has “Out for a run” printed neatly in Derek’s handwriting. “Ugh. Fine. Be that way.” Stiles slapps his arm across his eyes and groans, tucking the covers up to his neck for a few more minutes of restless snoozing. Not long after this, Stiles grumps wordlessly and manages to haul himself out from beneath the very comfortable world of the bed and into the crisp air of apartment.

For a moment, he hates everyone and everything.

And then he thinks about Derek.

As if on-cue, Derek walks to the front door and silences his music. He can hear Stiles inside, and he smiles, knowing they’re about to play-out the same old, silly argument, because they love each other so much.

“Stiles! I’m home!” He greets the air, since the other man is somewhere out of sight. Derek toes his shoes off, and set them on the rack by Stile’s sneakers. From off in the kitchen, Derek hears the pitter-patter of Stiles feet as he prepares something for them to eat. “I brought a surprise!”

Stiles was actually working himself up to reminisce about how Derek used to gruffly blurt just about everything he said. He was so earnest, and trying so hard to be the Alpha when he just wasn’t ready. It was years ago, and while he would have considered how much Derek had matured since the high school days, and would have smiled brightly at the growth and maturing of the now-stable Beacon Hills pack, he actually does something quite different.

At the hearing of the word “surprise”, Stiles squeaks (in a very manly manner, of course) and runs to the entrance. Derek holds his arms out, ready to catch the eager human, but Stiles is single-minded in his focus on the large pink box. Even his human senses pick-up on the supremely sweet scents of a variety pack of donuts from their favorite bakery. Naturally, instead of snagging the wolf up in his arms for a warm embrace, he snatches the box and runs back to the kitchen, giggling mischeviously and leaving Derek momentarily stunned.

Derek laughs, then admits, “fine, but I hoped you’d at least give me a hug this time before you stole the booty.”

“You stole the booty, Cap'n Hotpants!”

“How am I the captain?” And also, “hot pants?”

“Because you once said, "I’m the Alpha now”, and even if you were mocking Scott, you still kinda meant it about yourself, and ever since we watched that movie, I keep thinking about you, and about being alpha, and about ships and desperate pirates and I just can’t get your beefy buns out of my head.“

Without any retort to that, Derek leans against the doorframe and watches Stiles wide-eyed assessment of the caloric overload before him. Stiles prentends not to notice how the sweat on Derek’s shirt emphasises the already exemplary musculature of the werewolf. Derek catches-on immediately, but delays calling it out in favor of contiuing their banter for a moment longer.

"Well, I’m glad you appreciate the gift.”

“Oh, no, babe, you’re the gift. This is just you honoring me, the best boyfriend ever.” Stiles shoves the rest of the donut into his face. He crams it when he discovers his eyes were much bigger than the donut-holding volume of his mouth. Only after wiping with the hand towel at the sink did he turn to regard Derek more directly, and with more heat.

“What?” Derek pretends he isn’t preening inside when Stiles notices him, and looks at him like he is right now. Playing confused is always more fun, and usually gets him another compliment before they distract themselves.

“You are so hot. I mean, you’re just incredible. I know I give you crap about getting out of bed so early and running through the woods hunting whatever you’re pretending you’re not hunting–” he reaches for another donut.

Derek shakes his head. He’d never once told Stiles that sometimes he runs too well for a human, embracing and indulging the wolfish influence and chasing critters and prey on his run. Sometimes, when he’s sure a hiker isn’t around, he’ll go half-wolf and practice acrobatic maneouvers in the trees. He’ll jump and climb and drop-and-roll, all to keep himself limber and ready for anything he might need to do.

However, Stiles has never been on a run with him, so the wolf is confused how the man could know about that.

“–oh, come on, you don’t think I notice that you’re doing little hunts, or that your instincts don’t get you a little twitchy sometimes when a squirrel runs across the deck, or a deer is grazing along the shore? I notice, big boy.” Stiles stuffs more donut in his mouth, almost choking, and chases it with a hastily-poured cup of water. When he’s done, he attempts to stand confidently against the counter, but fails, and keeps half-heartedly putting on the act anyway.

Derek hadn’t considered that Stiles would notice those things. However, the wolf recognizes that he should have expected it, instead. One of the frustrating delights about Stiles is how insightful he was. It would be embarassing, but the source is always from the man who first believed in Derek, in friendship, in pack and protection and all the great things a strong pack needs. Stiles trained a pack of wolves to find their anchors better than Derek could. At least, back then. Now, new wolves arrived from nearby packs for training from the Human and Wolf Alpha pair, and it’s been strengthening the bonds between packs, reduce conflicts, and make them enough money that they can afford these trips to the lake.

Stiles considers for a moment if he should have chosen a different donut. The one with nuts was a little dry, but the maple with bacon bits is practically calling to him.

“I don’t understand your brain.” Derek steps forward and kisses his temple before the thinner man can steal another calorie ring. “But I’ll also never understand how you can burn butter and not even notice.”

Stiles yelps a manly yelp (in a very manly manner, of course) and turns to the stove, and the dark-brown devastation that was supposed to have been sizzling butter in the pan. Now that Derek had pointed it out, the stench of too-browned butter had filled the kitchen and has made the donuts temporarily less attrative. He flicks a look at Derek, feigning suspicion, but Derek pretends to only have eyes for the donuts.

Stiles huffs.

“Fine. You distract me from making breakfast and make me burn the food, then you gotta make it yourself or take me out somewhere nice.”

Derek bites into the donut so pointedly that even Peter could take notes on the sass of that bite. “And since when have we agreed to that particular rule?”

“Since now, when I just made it up, distractywolf.”

Derek tries to raise his eyebrow in surprise at the novel nickname, but just smiles instead, and sets the rest of the donut down on a small plate. Derek glances at Stiles fondly, then back to the box of donuts, and his expression mutates into a mischevous grin.

He abruptly turns to the shower and mumbles, “Whatever” to nobody in particular.

“I heard that!”

“Heard what?”

“What you just said! I heard that?”

Derek paused, and smiled, turning quite slowly, but remaining at this spot. “I’m sorry, what is it you think I said?” in a very good imitating of a moment Peter himself. Stiles wonders for a moment if Peter’s personality was a genetic trait and not just that of a madman.

“I don’t know the words you said, but I am very sure it was insulting.”

“Dearheart. My bunny blossom.” Stiles looks at him like he’s losing his mind. “Did you actually hear something, or did you just assume I said something?”

Stiles looks extra suspiciously at him. “I know you said something. I know you, Hale.” he gesticulates flippantly in Derek’s direction. “You’re smart and beautiful and you’re a really great person, and above all else, you’re a creature of habit.” Stiles steps up to Derek, and pokes his fingertips into the ticklish parts of Derek’s ribcage. “And I know that if you can’t get the last word in out loud, you’ll mutter it to yourself.”

Derek giggles, fails to escape the ticklish death grip, and steals a kiss from Stiles. He makes sure that kiss says everything from, “You’re an idiot,” to “You’re brilliant,” to “I love you.” Stiles squirms, trying to get away from the hot, sweaty torso and vise-like arms around himself.

“I love the kissing, and more of it is welcome, but – UGH! You’re so stinky!”

“I happen to know that even your limited human senses are telling you that my workout scent is sexy and makes me a hundred times more attractive.”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t turned-on, but it’s definitely stinky.” Stiles glances toward the kitchen. “Did you stink-up our favorite bakery?”

Derek almost lets himself get distracted by defending his honor at their favorite eating spot, but alters tactics instead. “I’m about to take a shower, you know.” Wink wink, nudge nudge. Stiles squints at him seriously, then squints at him with great interest.

“Do you think you’ve got room in there for both of us? I mean, I practically just worked-out. I’ve got the sweat to prove it!”

“You’ve got my sweat and it doesn’t prove you worked-out, Stiles.” Derek admonishes without heat. “Also, I know you haven’t been doing your yoga.”

“Dude, you gotta get over being jealous of my amazing physique. You don’t need to tear me down, you know. You could just tell me you think it’s great.”

Derek slides up to Stiles again, wraps his arms around him, and lifts him by the buttocks so Stiles can curl his legs around Derek’s perfectly-proportioned torso. “You know you’re great. I could just tell you I love you.”

“So, say it.”

With a mirthful expression in his face and voice, Derek lets go of his grip on Stiles and bounces toward the shower. Stiles barely has time to notice that Derek’s called out, “Shower time!” before he’s feeling gravity bring him down to his butt. Derek can’t help himself. “Last one in’s a rotten egg!” he shouts, followed by delightful giggles.

Stiles huffs, then clambers upright and chases the wolf. “I’ll show you rotten egg! You still didn’t tell me you love me!”

Derek laughs louder, and Stiles grins at hearing the open delight of the often troubled elder man. Stiles often considers that if he can make the wolf laugh once every day, it would help Derek heal from so much of the suffering he’d felt. The weight of it was with them both, but as their love has grown, they’ve discovered they’re chased less by their own thoughts and feelings about that past than they once had been.

“I love you!” declares Stiles, as he bounds his way through the doorway, across the floor, and leaps into the shower, managing to surprise them both with how he didn’t destory the door, the towel rack, the freezer door, Derek, or himself on the way in while pulling that little stunt. “There: I’ve said it first and best and you’re the rotten egg.”

Derek rolls his eyes and pulls his shirt off, taking just a little longer than necessary. “Are you sure you are the best? I mean, I did make a donut run.”

Stiles pretends to consider this, and grins. “Oh, well, that does count for something.”

“By the rules you just made up?”

“Most definitely,” and Stiles stepped into the shower. “And by the rules you’ve just made up, you’re still the rotten egg.”

Derek looks at the fully-clothed man in the shower as fondly as he ever does, and he admits, “I guess I am.”

He steps in with Stiles, the naked wolf and the still-clothed human, and he reaches toward Stiles in what looks to be a loving embrace. Stiles discovers it’s anything but that when Derek turns the water on and holds them both under it’s frigid spray until it warms. They both squeal, and Stiles’ efforts at disloding himself from the his lover wolf’s arms gets worse as the running water makes everything more slick.

When the heated water finally coats them both, Stiles sighs into Derek’s chest. “I love you, too, sourwolf.”

Derek nuzzled Stiles. “Sometimes I just want to say it with my hands or arms, or with a kiss to your–” and he puts his lips to Stiles, touching a tender point on his neck, “right here.”

“A kiss to my ‘right here’?” Stiles smiles. It’s an appreciative smile, full of fondness and love.

“And your over here,” as Derek quietly kisses his earlobe, then the spot on his neck again. He trails a few kisses along the leaner man’s shoulder, making an indelicate smack of the final kiss.

“That felt very nice until that last moment,” Stiles says. He is about to say something else when Derek’s hand twists the showerhead to point directly at Stiles, smothering his face.

Derek steps back and laughs. “Sorry, not sorry,” he says without any regard for the sputtering coming from Stiles.

“Your pranks will get you in trouble someday, trickster wolfboy.” Stiles pretends to complain, but he’s already plotting his counter-attack.

“I suppose they might,” Derek says, before pulling Stiles in for another embrace.

[deepintoforestwego]

Cold comes and goes, love remains chapter 2:Bright summer breaking

Also on AO3:https://archiveofourown.org/works/11645550/chapters/28743168

When she came back, Gerda tried to forget her journey, because it reminded her of things she lost. Of years, almost decade spent traveling over world, with no friend but animals to guide her, of long months when she had nothing but her wits and few coins to get her by.

Memories of her childhood faded, and one by one she forgot all friends she had, until only one left was Kai, his name burning bright in very depths of her soul, her friend and brother by heart, with whom she was raised together, who changed one year into a unsufferable, horrible brat while everybody (mostly men) praised him for maturity, who stamped flowers and tore picture books and  mocked grandmothers and refused to be friend with girl like her and who got in tasteless pranks with rougher, older boys.

But she remembered cheerful, curious, smart, easily excited and little shy boy from before, boy who loved her as sister, and she  hoped that she could beat sense in him, that she could make him not change, but return to previous Kai. And that hope held her through magic and dangers and storms.

Somebody would have  said such hope was useless. That she should have given up.  That it was wise, logical, rational, sane, only correct course of action.

Gerda would smirk and point at two of them as living proof of  opposite.

Shard in eye, shard in heart. That was what it took to twist Kai, to steal him away, to hate everything but logic and numbers and snow. Magic, to steal him away and twist him so he could be a toy to somebody cruel and cold as The Queen. But Gerda’s faith and tears and  prayers won against that brutal, wicked magic.

That made her afraid of her own power, though it was only power of understanding and speaking, not of ruining and harming. What if she stole somebody away like that?

Gerda is his best friend, his sister, his soulmate-not some grand lady from romances that will make him burn with passion (he isn’t sure whether he can at all), but somebody on whom he can count to stand by him no matter what, friend who will always find him and set him at right path whether he likes it or not.

Before that he was always withdrawn child, the adopted grandson of  old spinner from up in street. When  he was younger, he asked grandmother about his parents, and she  quickly came up with some story he doesn’t remember, but soon he found out truth. Whispers of neighbors never stop, and children are much better listeners  than most adults suppose.

No parents, raised by kooky old lady, weird boy who shrank from contact unless he was asking ridiculous question like why sky was blue or moon changed phases, who loved to go to school and read storybooks and plant flowers (and snow, he loved winter, but not making snowmen or riding at sledges, and he wonders if she had always been calling out to him, if he learned to see her only after he learnt who she was). Gerda was his only friend, kind Gerda whom everybody loved.

And then he changed and became arrogant, entitled fool who thought himself above her, and he believed it so strongly that even other children and adults believed it, and he showed his intellect by being condescensing which was only way some people recognized it and he forgot her while she....

He needs to pay Gerda back everything she did for him tenfold.

It wasn’t her work, he knows that. Gerda may not believe it, but he knows  the Snow Queen  did nothing to him to turn him against Gerda. Magic of those shards cursed him, but it wasn’t solely responsible. It took parts, components that were already within him and made him into idiot he became. But wherever that magic came from it wasn’t from Snow Queen.

It was spring when shards struck him. And there is cold even in spring, but she doesn’t do major workings in that period. Winter is her time, her domain, her child, when Earth is far enough from Sun (never truly enough, it is so small, nothing is enough, not planet or galaxy or dimension or reality or multiverse, nothing can contain Her, this power eider then world) that light and heat are slow to come and hard to find that her reach is longest (on Earth anyway). She wouldn’t have bothered infringing on land in spring because there are Rules and she must follow them.

But even were it winter it couldn’t have been her work. Magic of those shards was familiar as if he grew up with them, every wicked deed he ever witnessed,  solid, heavy thing, like a stone upon heart, sweetly disgusting smell of rotting food, decadent laughter of madman, feel of thick, greasy oil covering him, bathing his skin in pitch and filling his lungs with smoke. Her magic was always simple, essential cold-cold till the bone, all cold of all world and none, cold at it’s purest form, something that couldn’t be touched but still felt, and ancient and alien.

And it wasn’t within her domain, her nature, her right. Power of those shards was to corrupt, to twist and lie and muddle mind, wisewomen who helped Gerda told them. Her power was to freeze and take away and bend time and space. Great power, but she had no dominion over matters of heart and morality she didn’t, couldn’t understand.

If anybody was to blame it was him- magic couldn’t corrupt him if seed already wasn’t there, if soil  wasn’t proper, fertile and watered.

(Why does then her power dwell so easily within him, then?)

Princess-queen Astrid now- loves her friend, truly, but Gerda can be so  thickheaded and stubborn and it is just as endearing as it is annoying.

Really, Gerda and her entire family, nay half of her town could move in palace without problem-gods know that two thirds of those rooms aren’t used at all, and having useless things laying around is stupid especially if those are rooms which you can’t throw out. Their palace was built to survive wars and sieges, it can hold four people more. And it’s not as if they would be problem to staff- Astrid  had always believed that if somebody dared imply thousand people moving in would put minor strain on work quality they would be dismembered by army of offended maids and cooks.

And money wouldn’t even be a problem! Gerda wouldn’t have to bother with a small flower shop (which means struggling to get food in winter),  her grandmothers wouldn’t have to  spent their retirement knitting  and sewing things to exchange with neighbors for bare neccesities (those arthritic fingers shouldn’t work so much), Kai wouldn’t have to hop between hundred jobs while trying to become professor of math at university ( nobody will accept him, even if he was king himself, even if his knowledge is so wide and great that it hurts her head just from looking at equations he writes, nobody will hire professor with voice like icicles stabbing earbuds, whose every movement makes their eyes want to bleed, whose presence is like frostbite across skin).

And wouldn’t it be better  for everybody to have their own suite then to to try to fit in one or two apartments? To  live free and unrestrained instead of constantly worrying? Gerda shouldn’t be turning down such opportunities out of humility ( which is stupid concept  old pastors made up to control poor masses anyway), shouldn’t  refuse to make her life easier out of fear she will seem like bad friend, because Astrid is giving it all freely.

Gerda smiles, shakes her head, golden  curls bouncing up and down as she pats her friend’s hand and eats few more chestnuts.

‘’Thank you a lot, Astrid, but it isn’t necessary. Why, palace life, it’s a great honor, but it isn’t for us.’’ It is too much and too little for Gerda. Too big and detailed and opulent to be tasteful for her liking, and not enough  work or community for her liking.

Grandmas would never accept- they have lived in their town their entire life, let roots deeper then those of ancient oaks grow, and anyway even if they came over they would refuse to be kept out of kitchens and those are too far away, with too many stairs for their years.

Kai would follow if she  asked, but it is easier to live in apartment everybody agrees to be small then in what others call grand palace and you see nothing but mice’s hole.

And anyway, no matter how many years have passed, those two small flats are still their homes, and they won’t leave them.

‘’Exactly! I never get why humans insist on all that pomp and everything. Simple enst is all you need.’’ Mrs. Raven says, and both are careful not to point out that few years ago she was a tame crow (foolish human thought-crows can never be tamed, even if they sit on silken pillows and drink tea).

Astrid is kind, smart and well-meaning, but she doesn’t understand much about different lives, and she sighs as she raises her hands to sky while Gerda chuckles.

‘’Now, now, don’t be like that.’’ She is starting to sound like her grandmother.

‘’I just want to help you. Is there anything I can do for my best friend.’’ Astrid’s heart beats like rabbit’s as she sees thoughtful frown come over Gerda’s lips.

‘’ Well, there is something... but I don’t know if it is too much, or even possible...’’ Children are learning to write from families and friends but there are great gaps in that knowledge, she realized over years. And how many of them could become doctors and artists and so many wonderful things if given chance- all kinds of work are important, but it leaves bitter taste in her mouth when she sees bright girls and boys forced to become shopkeepers and  coach drivers because they weren’t able to apply for anything else.

‘’If it isn’t possible, I will accomplish it anyway. Go on.’’ Finalyy. What is use being queen if you can’t do something grand for your best friend.

‘’Have you ever considered making schooling mandatory for all children?’’ One looks in Astrid’s eyes tells her it is already finished in queen’s mind.

‘’Astrid, slow down, where are you leading me, Astrid are you listening?!’’ Gerda screamed as Astrid dragged her through multiple corridors Gerda couldn’t keep track of. Astrid spent last several days alternating from  manically planning system of schooling and  insisting on longer visits.

‘’Astrid I really-oh my God.’’ Breath leaves her as Astrid pushes doors open, leading her into glasshouse as big as...as... as her and Kai’s apartments together at least.  Sun is breaking through transparent walls, breaking in array of colors, her nose awash in smell of thousand different flowers, her ears filled with symphony of garden, of rustling of trees, moaning of bushes, screaming of violets, giggling of roses, whispering of hyacinths, humming of narcissuses, roars of lilies, hundreds of plants strewn in front of her like forest, grass below her thrumming with joy as if it is about to dance.

‘’So how do you like it? You said our gardens are poor and I thought you would like a big one, with all flowers you said were you favorites. I don’t really get what is  so great about trees but I hope you..’’ Gerda runs and coils her arm around queen, rising Astrid off the ground.

‘’like...Ge-Gerda...Gerda  you are crushing me.’’

‘’You aren’t really good at this, are you?’’ The man (not king, never king, just as his wife isn’t queen, it hurts even to think so, what king can die from time and knife, what king cannot  build palace in single day and bring army from void, what king cannot shatter mountains and rearrange constellations) asks, laugh on his lips while he raises dozen rabbits and birds he caught in last fifteen minutes.

‘’You know how it is with us mathematicians. Locked up in room all day,  no muscles and no  proper sight.’’ It dances on border of lie, and Kai feels buzz in his ears and pounding in his skull, but it isn’t truly false-he said nothing about himself specifically, just hinted at stereotype that could mayeb apply to him.

(It is no proper hunt, with horses and knives and bows and arrows. No proper hunt, chasing after animals with weapons and tools. True hunts, wild hunts ride across sky and sea with nothing but their own power, chasing their equals until they consume each other.

And to hunt animals with  things like that... that is almost cheating. Kai remembers being deer  and butterfly and eagle and wolf and snake and tree and wind and boulder and dragon and river, remembers tearing across mountains and plains chasing his prey, blood warm but not hot enough to lessen cold living in his bones flowing between his fangs, his maws as he ate hearts and stood across carcasses he made, Queen next to him, sharing shape, teaching her pup or chick or seed or raindrop how to kill and feed).

‘’Hahahaha! You are right. I think this suits you then, right? You need some activity or you’’ll forget how  to walk.’’ The man puts his hand on Kai’s shoulder and quickly, though he is trying to be subtle, pulls it off- deep, deep down his bones cry out feeling something wrong and else flowing through Kai’s body like wind or tide even though his clothing is thick as palm.

‘’ If there were not Gerda to pull me outside home, I would most likely forget to coem out to eat at all.’’ Truth, he forgets to do it even now, just as he forgets to sleep or breathe or let his heart beat sometimes. But were it not for Gerda and grandmas he would leave tiny, tight flat and run and run and run up to Sun and he wouldn’t burn, he would shred this form and become one with air and stone and chill and snow and her.

‘’Kai...’’ His companion starts after silence long exactly three minutes, twenty seven seconds and thirty three microseconds, voice slow and hesitant, eyes swirling and brow almost sweating ( he thankfully doesn’t notice how still Kai’s horse is, how it is trying to rein in it’s instincts to run and scream and jump to death sooner then allowing this thing to get close).

‘’As you know, I was raised in an orphanage. It was nice place, I made lot of friends who were like kin to me, and caretakers were some of best people I had pleasure of knowing. I don’t want to complain. I was happy. But it may sound like something from some bad novel written just to make people cry, and maybe I’m just imagining it, but I always felt I missed something, you know? ‘’ He asks, eyes looking far away, lost in memories.

‘’I get it.’’ ’’ He does and he doesn’t. He never felt he lost something by not having parents. Logically, rationally, with cold, stoic mind he wondered about them sometimes, but he never felt pain at thought of them. But feeling of loss, he knew that- he always searched learned, listened because he needed to fill up something  inside of him (and since he came back, he hungered, starved from this small, mortal, almost magicless world). But his companion never asked what exactly Kai was missing.

‘’Well, I was digging through a little last few years, asking things, trying to find my parents. I learned that I was brought to orphanage by young woman, and that after she left me she departed for part of country your home is located. She...she had another baby with her, and I thought since we look so similar, and are same age... maybe we could be...would you be interested in finding out?’’ He asks, so hopeful and scared. Kai closes his eyes.

He listens to chirping of birds, autumn leaves crunched under hooves, breathing of horses, few leaves that haven’t still fallen to ground fluttering in wind like butterflies, barely holding on, to bugs creeping over skin of trunks and small animals running through bushes, and thinks of his grandmother, small and lean, laughing, coughing, feeding him soup and telling him jokes as he is ill, singing him lullabies when he had nightmares, listening to him ramble about books he wanted to read.

He runs his tongue over his sharp sharp teeth, tastes cold, clear saliva, the sweets stuck between pale teeth, the echo of apples and cinnamons from pie he ate before going to hut, the crisp, clean air of autumn, and thinks of Gerda’s grandmother, of stories she told them, of cakes she baked when she had time and ingredients, of sweaters she knit.

He smells rich, harsh blood falling from necks of birds, the smoke carried from kitchen by wind, flowers in glasshouse, few remaining, rotting  fruits, and thinks of Gerda, Gerda with her beautiful, shining smile, Gerda who leads her shop with natural ease and makes whole town happy, Gerda who never lost faith in him after everything and traveled so far for his sake, Gerda who prayed to God and he answered with army of angels, Gerda who could have left him to become witch or noble or robber but didn’t, Gerda who deserves so much, Gerda who is best that ever happened to him.

And he knows he needs no more love then what they have given him though they are no kin by blood and bone.

And he feels chill of upcoming winter in air and earth, cold that covers all of their skins, power predating time buried deep within him, feels her concerned voice in whisper of wind, her two kisses in blood flowing through his veins, her soft touches in winter dwelling in his bones, sees  mountains and seas growing from her back, her face like polar night, her hair like northern lights, remembers way she was so gentle and caring with him though she could have crushed him with a though (and it took her effort, he knows, to remember he was mortal and weak and fragile, more effort to keep him in one piece then it would take  to break him) and knows she is here now, living and flowing through his being.

Knows he is more her son then blood could ever make them.

‘’I’m sorry.’’ He says, soft, not meeting his companion’s eyes (brown and warm, always, as his used to be, not blue of frozen lake or white of bleached bones or red as guts on snow or black as moonless night or pale pastel of aurora).

‘’I understand, but I don’t wish to. I... I don’t want to. They left me and that is it for me. I have Gerda and grandmothers and that is enough for me. i don’t want to think about what could have been.’’ The man next to him nods with smile and  sparkle of tears in eyes.

‘’I get it. Sorry for bothering you.’’ He says with wide, wide smile.

‘’I’m sorry.’’ He doesn’t know what else to say, but it is true.

‘’Don’t apologize. I should be one doing that. I just hope this isn’t going to make things awkward.’’ Tears  don’t spill from corners of his eyes, which is good for he is to be consort or ruler (human rulers need to keep their pain locked away from public. True rulers cannot be bothered by feelings in their purpose, and if they showed it nobody would dare comment on it, much less use it against them).

‘’It won’t.’’ He says, and his  tongue doesn’t rot.

They ride back in silence. Kai pretends not to notice tears in corners of other’s eyes, and he pretends not to notice frost caressing Kai’s dark skin.

Astrid stumbles on chair, her head almost falling down and hitting table as she sighs. Gerda puts down her watering can and moves over tos it next to her friend, summer sun making Astrid’s hair glow like fire.

‘’Problem?’’ She asks, though it’s obvious.

‘’Yes.’’ Astrid says, gobbling up fruits next to her.

‘’Anything I can help with?’’ Gerda asks, though she doubts- but you never know.

‘’Can you find me every magic user in kingdom and convince them to have talk about them?’’ Her friend speaks, propping up her head with her hands, elbows on table.

‘’Why?’’ Gerda thankfully doesn’t shout- she isn’t afraid of her gift anymore, nor off shadows dancing in night over castle, nor of frost that follows Kai, but old tales of witches and ruined crops and deals with devil still follow her.

‘’We need to deal with them! Half of them pay lip service to crown, living locked in their  towers, not coming out for years then playing court magicians, while other half is hiding like hermits until they come out of woodwork to curse and meddle in other people’s lives! And my subjects are always talking about witch hunts and sins but when trouble comes start running off to witches and wizards! And there children who can do magics but can’t control them, children who can do strange but wonderful things and may hurt themselves or others or may be hurt by others, children...’’ Like her, she who made shadows of her dreams ride whenever she slept.

‘’I wanted to meet some, to talk, establish new laws, maybe even school. But I know nothing about it! Nothing but fairytales!’’ And Gerda could see how it irked her, how she she hated being left in darkness.

‘’And none of magicians may family has nominal contact with answered me!’’ Gerda thought over that. It was possible that those wizards and witches were unwilling to help, believing their positions would be threatened if knowledge of magic was common and not all sorcerers were privileged and safe as them.

Or they could have learnt what happens to  their kind when royals start calling hard way.

‘’You know what Astrid?’’ Gerda said, trying not to make her voice shiver, to forget images of naked crones and dancing evils she saw in macabre portraits and imagined  in her mind so many times, of year stolen and memories changed.

‘’I think I can help you with that.’’ Well, she was already planning on visiting that garden anyway.

‘’What are we doing rowing a boat trying to find house when you don’t even remember where it was?’’

‘’I already told you, searching for that spring witch.’’

‘’Are you sure we will find her at all?’’

‘’We asked river!’’

‘’Same river who brought you to spring witch when you asked it to find me.’’

‘’It got confused!’’

‘’Then it owes you your shoes back! You can’t take payment if you don’t fulfill your end of bargain! Why did you even give them away?’’

‘’I don’t know. They seemed like only valuable stuff I had at time. Now that I think, what would river do with them at all?’’

‘’Humph. When we are finished with this we are getting them back. And mine too if this doesn’t work out.’’

‘’Kai it’s been more than decade, those shoes must have fallen to pieces.’’

‘’Well then it is still going to give them back!’’

‘’Are you really going to argue with a river over shoes?’’

‘’It’s not about shoes it’s about principles! It can’t flow around and cheat people out of their rightful bargains! And it asked for shoes, not even a firstborn...’’

‘’Good thing I don’t intend on having children ever.’’

‘’Don’t count on it, it’s magic, you will get pregnant from sipping tea or something like that of you make such bargain.’’

‘’And if I aborted or miscarried?’’

‘’Now that merits some investigation. We must research how far we can stretch definition of firstborn...’’

Garden is as beautiful as ever. Countless flowers eternally blooming, never wilting, their smell delicious but not too strong, tapestry of thousand colors and thousand stories whispered on wind. It is same as all those years ago.

After moment of hesitation Gerda knocks on wooden doors. Knocker is old, heavy iron circle, so big Gerda’s fingers almost can’t wrap around it. Sound is soft and dull, and it takes time before Gerda hears shuffling of skirts and slow steps.

Door opens,  and woman comes out, bent and wrinkled, her dress all purple and red and yellow that pricks eyes with it’s vibrancy, her straw hat filled with fat blossoms, petals trailing after her. Her thin lips raise in weak smile that freezes when she sees Gerda, who is honestly surprised old woman alive.

‘’I’m Gerda. Do you remember me?’’ She asks, voice almost trembling, because this woman enchanted her for almost a year but was also so kind and it doesn’t absolve anything but she looks so weak and pathetic and sad but she is a witch but she has nothing but her flowers and Kai stands behind her in silent support and to take care of witch if something happens (flowers next to him are covered with glossy white sheen and shatter like glass, verdant grass turns in black dust as his blood dances and giggles and enchantment shatter under avalanche of freezing magic he exudes).

‘’Yes. Yes I do.’’ Woman whispers, voice breaking and hands shaking.

‘’Do you remember what you did to me? How you played with my life and mind? How you trapped me?’’ Woman’s face is pale, her hair falling out as she nods.

‘’I-I, yes. I charmed you, kept you-like a toy, a pet.’’ She admits, unable to meet Gerda’s eyes

‘’I think you owe something for that.’’ Gerda says, fighting to keep her face harsh and strong, because woman may have been nice and lonely but she still trapped Gerda, would have kept her there forever, trapped in lie and dream.

‘’Yes.’’ Old woman says, kneeling before Gerda, stretching her neck out as Gerda’s eyes grow wide.

‘’Please... I know I have no right, but please make it quick.’’ Her voice os soft like crushed petals, tears rolling down her cheeks like morning dew.

‘’What? No! Why would I kill you?’’ Gerda screams, catching woman by fragile, stiff shoulders with her big, strong hands.

‘’I...’’ Woman’s eyes are rolling, confused, her face pale and her whole body shivering, her breathing slow as if it will almost forget to do it. ‘’I charmed you.’’ She says, remembering parents who cast her out in woods once they saw how she could make flowers bloom in autumn,  friends that hit her with stick and stones once they saw words she could coax out of petals, town and employers and random street passerbies chasing her , a witch, conjurer, though she never cursed somebody, and now that she did she knew that death was only thing awaiting her.

‘’You did, and I’m still angry about it, but I would never execute you. Death never solves anything.’’ Kai smiles next to her even as cold in him is puzzled, saying you do not have to worry about problem if problem is dead.

‘’But how then...’’ She was lonely, so lonely for thirty years, and more then likely not all right in head, but it doesn’t justify anything, she must repay this girl who she violated in such way.

‘’You are going to pay for that by helping me, and others too. You will teach me to understand magic.’’ The entire garden goes silent on that.

The lessons start, talks and books and letters sent to queen.

‘’Magic is natural, part of world as anything else, like sea or sky. We all have little of it in ourselves, like breath or blood, and so everything can use magic. But some are born with talent, like singers or dancers, so it goes easier for them.’’

‘’Magic isn’t good or evil. It isn’t anything. It is part of world and it all depends on how you use it. You can use it for anything, for good or evil or nothing, for fun or work or art. It is tool like any other, thought often more dangerous.’’

‘’No magic user is same. There are some rough definitions, but everybody works with magic in their own way.  magic answers and is fueled by your emotions. We are born with some things we can’t change at will, just as you can’t change shape of your face or sound of your voice by will, but how we apply them depends on you. Some people use magic from inside of them, others  draw it from outside. I heard there are different ways to command it but I don’t know much about it. I could ask few  acquintances I know for help.’’

‘’Could you spread word about our plans? It would be most helpful?.’’

‘’Of course. It would be honor. In fact I have one mirror I can use to communicate with  people.’’

‘’How does it work?’’

‘’I don’t know how spells that made it operate, but I simply state person who I want to talk with and it shows them to me, and my face in nearest reflective surface.’’

‘’How long is it’s reach.’’

‘’High quality. Entire country. Why are you asking?’’

‘’I met two wise women on my travels who I think could help us. And they helped me much, and I would like to reestablish contact with them.’’

‘’Very well. They surely have some important knowledge. You two are making such great plans already, you and queen.’’

‘’How do you use magic?’’

‘’ With words, amulets, signs. It all depends on your practice. You can’t just wish something to happen though. You must first have proper concentration and harness strength of your emotions. Then you must feel magic, take it and shape it in correct design, then release it with incanations, movements and focuses like wands and potions and similar. Even gifts take that.’’

‘’Gifts?’’

‘’They are like.. talents, or predispositions for magic. No, that’s not good...Better like, unconscious spells you can accidentally cast. Like me being able to make plants grow and sustain them through year, or you talking with birds and plants, or queen’s dreams. All people develop one after they start practicing magic seriously, but some are born with them. Usually it’s just two, but some people have just one or up to three.’’

‘’And that’s how all magic works? You can’t just wave your fingers and change things?’’

‘’Well no. It’s process, something to be studied and learned. Maybe you could accomplish something like that after decades of intense study, but not easily and not at first. magic is like sea, I told you. Humans can swim but it doesn’t come naturally to us, and we can’t breathe underwater. You have to train it, and if you aren’t careful or  lucky you can drown.’’

‘’And are there like...magic fishes? To extend metaphor?’’

‘’Hmmm. There are some, yes. Dragons and unicorns and talking animals. They too have to learn magic like humans, but it comes easier to them, and they’ve got some additional abilities. That’s why my flowers can talk, or why dragons can breathe fire. They have got more magic then us and better endurance, but if they go out of their places or waves take them they will too be crushed.’’

‘’Is... is the Snow Queen like that? Like a dragon?’’ The wind that flows through is bit colder and colors are paler.

‘’Ah...no, not at all. She is kind of magic you thought of, kind you find in legends- she wishes something to happen and it does.’’

‘’But how? You said magic takes practice and rituals and rules.’’

‘’For mortals yes.’’’

‘’She isn’t mortal? then what is she?’’

‘’If magic is sea, and we witches are divers, and magical creatures are fishes, she is then water. She is magic, ancient and cold, and nothing else. She cannot be challenged  or fought anymore then winter or storm can be.’’

‘’And yet you won, you brave woman. You defeated season Gerda. How’s that for bragging rights?’’

It is hot and they are on market when Gerda and Kai hear it, screaming and shattering coming from other side, and as town’s self-proclaimed peacekeeper Gerda has to investigate, running across street with her groceries.

She stops in tracks when she arrives.

there she is, her robber girl-not a girl anymore, though she is still little, thin but muscled thing, her hair and skin and eyes dark and warm as her patched up leather trousers, pistols at ehr belt. She is predictably arguing with an older pale man, spewing angry curses  that make Gerda go red just from hearing them ( but not as red as those of widow who visits her flower shop every Friday).

Stunned she walks up to two of them. Man is first to notice her.

‘’Ah miss Gerda sorry for trouble!’’ he apologizes as if it is her marketplace.

‘’Gerda??’’ Her friend (or maybe something more) asks, eyes big and staring, in uncertain voice, looking as puzzled and uncomfortable as Gerda (shit shit shit this wasn’t how she imagined their reunion oh fuck of all things just great) who snaps out of it and draws her in big hug to surprise of man next to her, then kisses both of  her cheeks.

‘’My dear how I missed you!’’ She says with overly sweet voice. ‘’What are you doing here? Why didn’t you send a letter?’’ Not like she knew address but still her friend catches on it.

‘’Well I would have but I wanted to surprise you, which would have worked  if some god forsaken idiots didn’t keep me from trying to find your house.’’ It may be truth for all Gerda knows, and she pray her blush isn’t obvious.

‘’You little-!’’ Man raises his voice but shuts up when Gerda glares at him.

‘’May I know what this is about?’’

‘’He accused me of stealing!’’ Which she stopped doing years ago and anyway she wouldn’t be stealing from such people. She is from line of proffesional robbers, ones that rob kings and banks not poor merchants from small towns.

‘’My  food went missing just when she showed up!’’

‘’And where would I put it you stupid-‘’

‘’See how she insults me? She wouldn’t be so angry if she had done nothing!’’

‘’You are accusing me without reason of course I’m pissed-‘’

‘’You lying sack of-’’’

‘’You disgusting pig-‘’

‘’Ahem. Sorry to interrupt you, but mister did you notice your horse eating your fruits?’’

‘’What? I-oh.’’

‘’Aha! See!’’

‘’I-I thought-‘’

‘’You owe my friend apology mister.’’

‘’Let him keep it. Empty words mean nothing. Just think twice about accusing somebody next time.’’ She laughs as man quickly leaves, and two of them are left staring at each other-or better said trying not to.

‘’so how are you..’’

‘’What are you doing...’’

‘’Travelling little you know..’’

‘’On market with ..Kai!’’ she calls out for help. he grins, his teeth blinding on light of sun and runs with groceries in his hands.

‘’Hi Gerda! got to carry this back to grandmothers, please show your friend around! Don’t worry about coming late.’’

Gerda considered killing her best friend at that point.

Former robber next to her however found that her opinion of Kai had dramatically increased.