#I love the poses and the coloring of the shoes especially and I ALMOST MISSED /THEM HOLDING HANDS/ !!!!!

[regallibellbright]

b[Image ID: The first image is a screenshot from the ending of Kingdom Hearts III, showing Isa, Lea, Roxas, and Xion sitting atop the clock tower in Twilight Town, eating sea salt ice cream together and raising it in greeting to their other friends. Roxas is wearing his outfit from the prologue of Kingdom Hearts 2, and Isa, Lea, and Xion finally wearing clothes that aren’t black leather trenchcoats marking them as members of Organization XIII. For Xion, this is her first non-trenchcoat outfit ever. (Isa and Lea were previously depicted in civilian clothes in Birth By Sleep, where they were teenagers.)

The second image shows an amigurumi of Xion in her outfit from this scene, a black blouse with ruffled sleeves and a belt, a short white pleated skirt, and dark brown boots that go up to mid-calf with laces crossing the lighter brown cuffs on top. The amigurumi has light blue safety eyes, and a v-shaped smile embroidered in black yarn. She is sitting on the side of a light fixture, with her legs bent off the side, in front of a box of Cheez-Its. This picture was taken of the amigurumi as originally made in about March 2019.

The third image shows the same amigurumi with some minor modifications. Her face has been modified, as shown in the fourth image, there is now a dark gray square buckle marking her belt, and her boots now have laces running up the tongue, bows tied at the final laces across her cuffs, and two pairs of silver studded buckles.

The fourth image shows a closeup of the amigurumi’s face, showing a small smile embroidered in black embroidery floss, and an embroidered black eyebrow over her left eye, the right portion of her forehead being covered by her bangs.

The fifth image shows the Xion amigurumi, next to a matching Lea amigurumi, sitting atop a jewelry box. Lea is posed so that his left leg is raised slightly off the jewelry box, while his other leg dangles off the edge. Xion sits neatly with her legs dangling off the edge of the box. Both of them have their right arms raised, waving at the viewer. End ID]

Alright, this took a moment to break down in full and get the pictures I wanted for her, but here she is! My KH3 Xion amigurumi, now slightly spiffed up! (Lea will get his own post.)

This gets a LOT more in-depth under the cut, as I break down what I did, and also precisely why her outfit is fantastic but this project was a labor of deepest, deepest love.

First, some technical specs. She’s about ten inches tall all told, and has wire inside to make her posable, as you can see. My original design for her took... eh, a couple months? I started almost as soon as we finished Kingdom Hearts 3. This is actually my second Xion amigurumi - my first was a lot smaller, my first attempt at doing something this ambitious without a pattern, and made in winter 2018 before she finally had a non-cult outfit. (So, yes, I finished one and then almost immediately started a second.) This refurbishing took about three days, and most of that involved my subpar embroidery skills.

I was proud of her before, to be clear - she’s some of my most ambitious work, especially given I’d only been crocheting for about a year and change when I made her, and I went to a LOT of effort getting screenshots of the two scenes it appears in from the ending cutscene. Which are both lit in sunset, making properly gauging the colors difficult. I realized after the fact that I’d missed the buckles on her shoes (as opposed to the laces, which I deliberately simplified,) and figured I’d add them later. Then when I started seriously working on Lea about a year later in summer 2020, I made a couple more detailed additions to his face (He kind of needs eyebrows with that widow’s peak, where the size of Xion’s bangs when crocheted meant I could get away without,) and they’re likely to be details I continue adding for the rest of the set now that I’ve cleared up enough of the tendonitis I got MAKING Lea. So I wanted my favorite character to stand up to her friends.

(In case you’re wondering: Hypermobility plus tendonitis plus not having a hypermobility-trained PT when you first realize you have tendonitis equals ‘having tendonitis for two years because the PT exercises you were given were working the wrong muscles’. Whoops. Good news is that has since been sorted.)

Let’s start with the new work first. The changes to Xion’s face are pretty straightforward - cut off the old smile, spent like an hour deciding what the best expression and placement for her new smile was, added an eyebrow. I don’t really need a new photo for that.

The bulk of it goes in the shoes, anyway.

[Image ID: A closeup of the Xion amigurumi’s boots, showing they are dark brown with lighter brown cuffs, black laces going up to the cuffs with bows tied between them, and two pairs of silver buckles across the bridge of each shoe. The lower buckle of each pair is smaller than the upper buckle. End ID]

I’m not particularly good at tying knots by default - my shoes are all slip-ons or buckled with Velcro, and my embroidery skills are pretty limited because I struggle to do any of the ornamental knots even though they’d be VERY useful for me. So instead of actually tying the embroidery off into bows, which seemed kind of risky, I figured out how to tie a handcuff knot, tightened it enough to serve the purpose, and then sewed them on VERY thoroughly. It looks a bit messy, and it probably is still not the most sturdy method here, but it should serve my purpose and it’d be relatively easy to remake and resew if need be.

I put A LOT of work into getting those crosses straight. Especially across the cuffs, which isn’t even visible anymore with the bows sewn on, but hey. I know I did it.

[Image ID: Closeup of Xion’s boots from the clock tower scene, showing the laces, cuffs, and that the studs on the upper buckles are larger than the studs on the lower set. End ID]

Like I said, I knew I’d missed some kind of braiding or the like on Xion’s boots a while ago. The wikis didn’t have great images, so I checked Youtube for the reMind version of the ending and screenshotted them myself.

Yeah, that’s not braiding. Those are studded buckles. ASYMMETRICALLY studded buckles.

This is far from the worst ‘this outfit is gorgeous but shouldn’t be made in crochet’ moment, compared to things that I had to deal with in the original design (and Lea, we’ll get into HIM later,) but it is definitely a pain. Especially since, with the scale of the doll as she is, I couldn’t simply embroider the smaller studs on - the stitches are too big for that. So instead, I took my three-strand, medium weight acrylic silver yarn, unraveled it, crocheted with the individual unraveled strands, and hoped desperately that it would maintain structural integrity long enough to sew them to the boots, especially because I have a habit of leaving too long a tail to sew on because I misjudge how long everything will need. But this worked! Yay. They’re not strictly accurate, but they do give the same detailing the buckle studs do, and it’s about the closest I can come given the scale of the doll and the work I’d already done - to make her entire body properly scaled, the boots are in the same medium-weight yarn as the one I had for her skintone, since they are her feet, and that means the stitches are a certain size as well. Besides, I’m about to get into the main details of her outfit, or:

Why Xion’s KH3 Ending Look is GORGEOUS, But A Nightmare To Crochet.

  For those of you who don’t crochet, there are a couple things to keep in mind for this.

First, crochet stitches are inherently different from knitting. By default, they tend to have a stiffer structure than knitting. This makes it the more popular craft choice for amigurumi, since it’s easy to make three-dimensional, rounded shapes that hold their shape in crochet. For example, a doll’s head or body - Xion’s head and torso are all one piece, with the arms and legs stitched on separately and the outfit crocheted overtop her main body. (The skirt is actually attached to the main structure of her torso, not just sewn on. I’ll get into that later.) Or that boot shape. What this doesn’t do well is drapery, like say... pleats. It’s also pretty iffy on ruffles, though scalloped shell patterns aren’t that bad. So you know, two of the most distinctive aspects of this outfit texturally are things that the medium isn’t very suited to.

The second thing is that while you can have some VERY elaborate stitch structures and varieties with crochet - just look up granny squares or crocheted lace - allowing for some interesting textural detailing, black yarn tends to eat ALL detail. It just doesn’t show. Not on crochet, at least, and certainly not with the medium-sized yarn weight I was using to match the size of the skintone yarn. (You can find black yarn at pretty much all sizes in any craft store without issue. Finding shades of beige or brown can be harder, especially in smaller sizes.)

Xion’s blouse, of course, is black details on black panels on black. You can’t embroider the buttons on, because it’s black. The belt buckle, once I checked, is also black. Everything’s black. And tragically, my plan for the buttons when I was first crocheting her (using very small safety eyes, which would be shiny) failed because anything small enough to work was too small to stay in the stitches. I added some textural details where I could, but they don’t show up at a distance. So since I was already going to rework her a bit to add a smile and the shoe buckles, I decided I’d add a dark gray belt buckle as well just to add a little visual variety to the blouse, even if it’s probably inaccurate, strictly speaking.

[Image ID: The first image is a closeup of Xion in a later scene from the ending, showing her kneeling on a beach. Image is focused on her blouse, showing details like the size of the sleeve ruffles (very small), the collar and paneling, two lines of six buttons each running above and below the belt, and the belt buckle, which is almost certainly black. I chose to ignore this because literally no other details would show up.

The second image is a closeup on the Xion amigurumi’s blouse, taken when I originally finished her, showing that she has a collar, a closer look at the ruffles, and black raised sections marking both the central plackett of her blouse and the belt. These are not very visible from a distance, as seen in that second image way back at the beginning.

The third image shows the blouse again, now with a dark gray buckle embroidered on, as well as the white pleated skirt. End ID]

The collar exists - it’s even sewn on - but not very visible, because black. I think I just added them in by working into the side of the blouse, which was a separate piece from the head, torso, and skirt. The plackett and belt are both lines of surface crocheted black, in different directions for each. Embroidering the belt buckle was all about placement. It still took me like half an hour to place it in a way I was happy with it, but it’s straightforward.

I actually didn’t make a note at the time how I made the ruffles, but I’m fairly confident it’s the same technique described here by Shiny Happy World - Single crochet increased enough per round to make a ruffled edge. The end ruffles are still proportionately bigger than the in-game outfit, but I don’t think it’s POSSIBLE to make them smaller at this scale. Plus, I’m happy with it.

And then there’s the skirt. Like I said before, it’s actually part of the main body - I’d have to check my notes to be sure, but I’m pretty confident Xion’s body was made from the bottom up, with a white section at the beginning and then switching to tan in a row where I worked back loops only where the skirt would begin. When I was ready to make the skirt, I then attached white yarn to the front loops and searched for a method to crochet pleats.

I will note once again that crocheting pleats is REALLY difficult, and shoutout to this tutorial by Sick Lil Monkeys and this tutorial from Tales of Butterflies detailing two techniques - the first technique is identical to the previous link’s, but the extra pictures helped a lot. The end result is a skirt that’s successfully pleated and holds its shape even while Xion does what she is meant to do - sit atop tall things with her friends. The particular design makes dolls that are pretty top-heavy, though, so getting that effect tends to require something behind her to brace. (Don’t be fooled by that picture - Xion has the obvious box backing her up, but Lea is also being braced by a small plush keychain. It’s just that his posture is already compensating for his MASSIVE hair.)

At some point I really need to make some little sea salt ice creams for everyone. Probably once I finish the set - I’m thinking I break back into the dollmaking with Namine (who I wanted to make anyway, as she deserves love and friends and ice cream, and who is by FAR the easiest of the group to crochet,) and then I think it will finally be Roxas’s turn. (Unless I put him off a bit longer to do Ahiru as Princess Tutu, since I already have the yarn for that after stumbling on a PERFECT shade of pink for the underskirt. But I’ve kept the trio un-reunited for quite a while.)

MAN that outfit’s gonna be tricky, though. And the hair spikes.

I have yarn picked out so I CAN eventually do Isa but he will absolutely be last of the five. He knows what he’s done.

[peach-pops]

Famous S/O HC

This is very self-indulgent cause I’m the type to make up fake scenarios where I’m famous and going on interviews and press tours asfjdks. If you guys want, I’ll make more of these! Oikawa+Tsukishima underneath the cut!

How The Haikyuu Boys Find out that You’re Famous

-Bokuto- (Pro-Athlete) 

Bokuto knew you were an athlete but he had NO IDEA that you were super famous. Like he always thought it was normal for people to come up to you after your game to ask for pictures or autographs ??? 

I mean that’s why he was so drawn to you because of how much passion you had for your said sport cause duh he could relate

One day when you two were out at the mall, he told you that he needed to get new shoes to work out in and so the two of you went into the Nike store so he could look around

He was looking through the shoe aisle and after almost two hours of looking through the same shelves, he finally found a pair he liked (shopping with him is so time-consuming but that’s for a different day) 

when he found a pair he liked, the two of you made your way to the cashier to pay for his shoes. As the cashier was ringing Bokuto up, his eyes traveled up to the large poster/banner that was directly behind the cashier’s area and smiled to himself

It was a colorful promotional banner with a bunch of top athletes from around the world and as he’s looking at the banner, he sees this girl and he nudged you like,” Babe, she looks like you!” 

You look up from your phone and sure enough, you’re plastered on the wall posing with other athletes

“ Oh yeah, I didn’t think this shoot would come out until next month.”

Bokuto didn’t even process what you just said but my dude behind the cash register stopped scanning the shoes to turn his head to the banner and he turned PALE. 

He even does a double-take cause hold up, is there seriously a pro athlete in front of him?

“ Oh my god...You’re Y/N L/N!”

“ How do you know my…” Bokuto furrowed his eyebrows and looked at the banner again and he even squinted like hold up

AND IT ALL SUDDENLY CLICKS FOR HIM

“ Y/N? That’s you!” 

“ Yeah-”

Bokuto can’t even believe it and he totally spaced out when you take a selfie with the guy behind the register with the banner in the background like UMMM HIS GIRLFRIEND IS FAMOUS WHAAAAAA

“ YOU’RE ON A NIKE POSTER OH MY GOD! LOOK YOU’RE ON THIS MAGAZINE WHA-”

Dude is totally making a scene in this store but he does not give a single fuck

As he’s walking you back home, he’s looking up all of your stats and even watches a compilation called “ 100 times Y/N L/N was a beast!” and he’s just shooketh 

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOU WERE A FREAKING PRO ATHLETE??”  

“ I didn’t think it was a big deal I mean, you’re pretty famous too babe.” 

“ I DON’T HAVE A PROMOTIONAL BANNER WITH NIKE!” 

He’s not salty at all he’s just a bit emo cause he felt bad that he never even noticed before

As your fame grows, so does Bokuto’s with his volleyball career. You and him are described as a powerhouse couple and it really hypes the two of you up like THE POWER YALL POSSESS TOGETHER ON AND OFF THE COURT/FIELD/WHATEVER

Lots of training together and joint interviews together like Wired autocomplete or your favorite ~THIRST TWEETS~

“ ~Bokuto could spike a volleyball in my face, crack my nose in two different places, and I’d thank him~ oh my god that’s horrible I would never do that.”

“ I mean, you’ve done it before haven’t you?”

“ That was different anyway, your turn Y/N!” 

*passes that clunky ass bucket*

“ ~Y/N L/N, please tie me up and- oh my god this is too dirty I can’t! My mom will watch this!” 

If you’re a pro volleyball player, you two get compared a lot and it bugged you at first since you felt like you two were two very different in terms of playing style but after a while, you both started to encourage the idea of your own playful rivalries like comparing stats and wins

But if you’re in a different sport, you two get asked questions like who’s sport is harder or what it would be like if you two switched sports like??? But because you two are in different fields, you both have such major respect for each other cause you can’t even imagine how much hard work it is 

He absolutely does not mind it at all when fans approach you two if you guys are on a date. He knows how important your relationship with fans are, especially if they’re younger girls who look up to you as a role model

Bokuto will fall in love with you all over again whenever you crouch down to a younger fan ughhhghgh

He doesn’t care for the paparazzi to be honest. he knows it comes with the territory but he will get a bit protective if they start to get too close to you 

“ Hey, we’re just trying to get back home so just let us through please,” but if it continues, he will not give a single fuck about being nice,” dude, what did I just say? Back off!” 

Mad!bokuto will be the death of me

He knows how stressful it is being a pro athlete but he will always remind you how proud he is of you and if he ever sees you overworking, he will make sure you take a day off even if that means just napping together all day

Long story short, Bokuto would be amazing to have by your side as you’re navigating being in the public eye and you may quote me on that

-Oikawa- (Actress)

This attention whore I swear 

So Oikawa knows that you act but he doesn’t know that you’re an actress (which is basically the same thing) 

Like as a kid you were in commercials and you had a small role in a tv show but it wasn’t like it was super popular. 

But what Oikawa didn’t know was that a couple months before you two started dating, you were flown out to America to star in an upcoming and highly anticipated movie 

since you were under a contract, you weren’t allowed to talk about it until the trailer dropped and it ate away at you because all you wanted to do was tell people especially your boyfriend 

ANYWAY He decided to take you on a date to the movie theatre and as you two were getting popcorn, these girls came up to you two 

“ Hi! Is it okay if we can get a picture with you?”

“Of course, how could I ever turn down my lovely fans-”

“ No, not you, Y/N!” 

Oikawa is just flabbergasted as the girls hand their phone to him so he can take a photo of you with your fans he deadass thinks it’s some prank

After the girls left, he gave you a weird-ass gaze and asked you what that was about but you just shrugged and told him that maybe it was because of ur mini part in that one tv show

So he thinks nothing about it and teased you that it was so cute how you had a mini fanbase and you weren’t going to lie, it was pretty freaking cool 

You guys entered your theatre and got settled into your seats as the movie trailers started to play. 

(Oikawa loves watching trailers like this dude is the type to take you 45 minutes before the movie actually begins JUST to make sure he doesn’t miss anything)

As you’re chilling in your seat, you see the trailer to your movie so you do your best to keep your eyes on your boyfriend and the screen at the same time cause you want to see his reaction

The trailer plays and Oikawa seemed to be interested in the movie but again, it’s like any normal trailer UNTIL he hears your voice coming from the screen and he immediately sits up in his seat 

“ Wait- was that your voice?”

“ My voice?”

“ Nevermind, I think I’m going crazy-”

AND THEN HE SEES YOU ON THE SCREEN! Since it’s a trailer it was just about five seconds of an intense/dramatic scene but it’s enough for Oikawa to lose his mind

“ OH MY GOD THAT IS YOU!”

This prompts some people in the audience to shush him but Oikawa doesn’t care

“ OH SHUSH THAT’S MY GIRLFRIEND! Y/N! THAT’S YOU!”

“ Toru oh my god yes that’s me but stop screaming or they’re gonna kick us out!” You whispered loudly as Oikawa clamped his hand over his mouth 

He’s so happy and he’s beaming with pride so he pulls out his phone and  records the trailer to post it in his group chat cause duh he wants to show the boys how proud he is but when he sees you kissing someone else for .6 seconds, Oikawa just (ㆆ_ㆆ) and stops recording

“ Are you okay babe?”

“ Was that real or CGI?”

“ The building crumbling is all CGI-”

“ No...the kiss.”

THIS DUMBASS LMAO HE’S SO SALTY AND JEALOUS 

“ Why didn’t you tell me you were this good?” 

“ I- I was always this good! But I couldn’t say anything, I’m under a contract!”

“ But you could’ve told me! I wouldn’t have told a soul!” 

That’s a whole ass lie, if he knew, he would’ve bragged about it to Iwaizumi 

But foreal, Oikawa is such a supportive boyfriend like as months pass and your following gets bigger, he just gushes cause yep that’s his famous girlfriend ( he will 100% use you sometimes for clout)

this dude LOVES bragging to his friends that he’s dating a famous actress. Like he was always showing you off and hyping you up before but it gives him such an ego boost when people find out the two of you are dating

Oikawa is an attention whore like I said so you know whenever the paparazzi appears, he eats it up and will pose which is SOO embarrassing like pls why do u do this

But there are some days where you don’t want to get recognized and he 100% understands so the two of you will wear disguises as to not get recognized. One time you two ended up getting caught so he just grabbed your hand and the two of you SPRINTED back to the subway

He will have all of your movies on DVD and if your movie is on a streaming service, he will buy a membership JUST so he can watch your movie

Sometimes you’ll come over to his house and he’ll always try to make you watch your movie for the millionth time 

“ Toru, can we please watch something else?” 

“ But my extremely talented and beautiful girlfriend is in this movie why would I watch anything but this?” 

Don’t be fooled he WILL skip through any kissing scenes or scenes where your character shows any type of affection to another character

LOVESSS tagging along with you to photoshoots, interviews, red carpet events ALL OF IT

Red carpet events give him a chance to dress up and lowkey his outfit is always one of the best there. He won’t outshine you per se but fans actually look forward to see what he’ll be wearing and he’s not even in any of the movies I- 

Your schedule gets pretty busy once your career takes off and even though there are certain time periods where you’re across the world, it won’t stop him from sending huge bouquets to your set 

Basically, Oikawa is such a supportive boyfriend and is overall so proud of how you managed to juggle your studies with your acting career 10/10 best boy 

-Tsukishima- ( Musician/Singer)

You and Tsuki had only been dating for a bit and since it was all still new, he kept it on the down-low because the last thing he needed was his teammates pestering him about a girl 

Tsuki knew you liked to sing and write songs but you never told him about how well known you were simply because he never asked

He just assumed it was a side thing for you UNTIL he showed up to practice and some of his teammates were huddled around Noya watching something on his tablet

“ Move your elbow! I can’t see-”

“ Watch your hand-”

“ Shush! I can’t hear her-”

“ What are you idiots watching?” Tsuki asked as he craned his neck to look at the screen

No one answered him so he started to watch the music video and low and behold, your face popped up on screen singing along to your lyrics that he’s heard a million times

Tsuki is a bit taken aback cause why is his girlfriend in such a high production video and why is his heart feeling some type of way seeing you in that outfit

Like lemme just take off my glasses and see that again ( •_•)>⌐■-■

” Where did you guys get that video?”

“ What do you mean, it’s online? She’s trending right now-”

“ God all of her songs are so good I want to see her live-” 

“ I can’t believe she goes to school with us-”

“ I wish she would step on me-”

“ Hey, don’t talk about my girlfriend like that,” Tsuki said dryly as he glares at the back of Noya’s head, which prompted everyone to turn around

“ You’re dating Y/N L/N? Ha! That’s funny Tsuki!” Tanaka laughed as he slapped Tsuki in the back harshly

At first, even Tsuki was questioning himself like wait, is he even sure you’re dating? cause this girl in the music video was NOT the same girl he was on the phone with last night

 If you had asked Tsuki 10 seconds ago if he would ever reveal to the guys he was dating someone, he would say helllll no but now that he knew about this, he didn’t care about keeping the relationship a secret especially if they were thirsting over his girl

He had all the proof in the world that he was dating you but took the salty approach to prove it to them. He pulled out his phone and shot you a text even though you were in class

Tsuki: Come to the gym right now

Y/N: is everything ok?

Tsuki: just come quickly

You left your class to “use the restroom” and practically rushed to the gym thinking that something was wrong with your boyfriend. You slid into the gym, causing the boys to look up from the tablet and you ignored their shocked faces

“ Where’s Tsukishima?” 

The boys slowly did a doubletake from the music video back to you to make sure they were seeing correctly and even though you were a bit embarrassed to hear your song playing in the background, you were just worried about Tsuki

Tsuki walked out to you from behind the guys and you rushed over to him

“ Babe, what’s wrong?” 

“ BABE?!” 

The boys were shocked and the second years practically FAINTED in your presence 

Tsuki pulled the tablet from Noya’s cold, dead hands and showed you the screen,” Care to explain this?” 

“ I- Um, it’s my music video…”

“Well are you famous or something?” 

“ I wouldn’t say famous…more like upcoming artist?” 

And then the next week you’re a nominee for the VMA’s asjfkghdk

 honestly out of Oikawa and Bokuto, he probably handles it the best on the outside, he doesn’t make too big of a deal out of your fame but on the inside he’s can’t even believe it

He doesn’t go around shouting to the world that he’s dating the Y/N L/N but he has his own ways of supporting you. He’ll listen to your songs whenever he’s walking in the hallway or doing homework at home and he’ll catch himself liking tweets that are about you as long as they’re positive

He’s def the type to argue with people online if they say mean comments and will report/block them before you can even see it 

IDC how much he tries to hide it, he is deadass ur biggest fan. Tsuki will tease you about how nervous you act during interviews/award shows but he will ALWAYS go with you to ease your nerves even if he had prior plans

If you ever write a song for him, he gets SO RED AND EMBARRASSED so pls do that 

Will def call you baka for doing so but deep down, he’ll fall in love with you even more cause you’re able to put into words how he feels about you 

I don’t think he’ll be too comfortable with you posting about him but he knows he can’t do anything about people taking photos of the two of you out together in public

Tsuki would never be rude to your fans though like if you were recognized during a date, he wouldn’t make a fit and will take photos of you and your fans to speed the process along

He HATES HATES HATES the paparazzi’s like it’s one thing for fans to come up to you when yall are in public but he gets mad when the paparazzi harasses you with questions/pictures/comments

“ Y/N! Turn around and give a smile!” 

“ Not right now, I’m sorry.”

“ Oh come on, don’t be shy! Just show the camera a little skin!”

“ How about you shut the hell up before I smack that camera out of your face.”

Head empty, no thoughts, just thinking about Mad!tsuki

It’s a big adjustment for Tsukishima that he has a girlfriend in the entertainment sphere but he knows how hard you’ve worked for it and he would never tell you to stop living your dream 

Sometimes he’ll feel insecure because you’re so successful and he doesn’t want to hold you back but since he can’t imagine being without you, he just pushes those thoughts away and enjoys every minute with you 

[straydawg-writing]

𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖌𝖊𝖙-𝖒𝖊-𝖓𝖔𝖙

ᴅᴀᴢᴀɪ ᴏꜱᴀᴍᴜ.

• bungo stray dogs series

chapter 2: 𝖈𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗 — 𝖍𝖎𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖓 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖍

✥ ⊱ ────── ♔ ────── ⊰ ✥

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┊ ┊ ┊    ✫ ˚✩

┊ ┊ ✫

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┊ ⊹ ☪︎⋆                        

✯ ⋆

˚✩

"SORRY TO BREAK IT TO YOU princess, but calling yourself a vegan because you don't believe in hurting animals and then killing 240 men is just stupid," chuuya scowled down at kita's tofu burrito, utterly repulsed by its contents.

"wrong! take any cow that you want and it'll still be a thousand times better than any person I've killed. the human race is corrupted beyond saving, chuu." she said, booping the tip of his nose.

in an attempt to vanquish the pink tint threatening to color his cheeks, he scoffed.

"you're psychotic."

chuuya liked to pretend he was some kind of macho man, the type who worships meat and builds a shrine for his rib-eye steaks adorned with a single leaf on top, but he never failed to come to their lunch meet-ups with a fully decked out salad. out of thoughtfulness for kita, she'd never know.

kita's gaze drifted from her tofu burrito to a boy strolling past their table. bandages wrapped all the way up his arms like vines, and shaggy brown hair fell over his eyes. a coat he didn't wear properly was draped over his shoulders, catching in the wind as he walked. she didn't recognize him.

"don't tell me that annoying prick caught your eye," chuuya grumbled, following her gaze.

"you know him? why haven't i ever seen him before?"

"that idiot follows the boss around like a lost puppy dog. it's pitiful," he spat out, casting glares at the mystery man. "you're better off staying away from him."

kita wasn't sure why the red-head seemed to hate him so much, the boy surely didn't hold himself in a way that suggested he blindly followed another's lead. he gave off a certain aura when he walked, like he was... untamed. maybe even a little dangerous. she couldn't help casting curious glances at the bandaged boy until he turned around, dark brown eyes meeting with her own.

"oh frick," she said through her teeth, sending him a small smile instead of looking away. she wouldn't be found acting all shy and embarrassed now that he had caught her in the act of staring. "he saw me. no way, is he smirking right now?"

chuuya was too busy sending venemous daggers at the teasing boy to hear her, when kita realized he hadn't directed the smirk at her at all. his attention was fully centered on taunting chuuya, and chuuya alone. they seemed to have some kind of rivalry she hadn't been let in on, and now she just felt like a third wheel.

"i don't even want to know."

grabbing kita by the arm, chuuya pulled her away from the table and in the opposite direction from the man, who was now innocently waving goodbye. she was forced to abandon her tofu burrito.

"trust me, i wish i didn't know that suicidal maniac either. unless you enjoy being around an idiot all day," he muttered, strands of red hair trailing behind him as he fast-walked away from the boy.

"but i hang around you, don't i?" kita joked, pulling chuuya back to slow him down and face her.

"stupid.. if you ever try comparing my idiocy with that brat again, I'll make you regret the day you ever did it." he cracked an almost invisible smile as he hit her upside the head, though not hard at all. he would never be the one to hurt her.

-

starlight cast a shimmering glow on the lush garden, creating a dream-like atmosphere. kita treasured her time here, as it became a reverie from the harsh realities and pressuring stress that the mafia demands. the floral garden has become the place she spends most of her time at, second only to working in the field.

white gravel crunched lightly under her shoes as she walked down the path, lit up by the scattering fireflies. the delightful little things loved kissing the rich blossoming flowers as they flew by, making sure not one of the flowerets missed their light.

white and orange koi fish danced by her feet as she reached the pond. they sent small bubbles up to the surface to greet her, in hopes she had breadcrumbs to spare. what kita did not expect to see was a man sitting on the other side of the ledge, one that had been overwhelmed by the wild vines some years ago. he was captured by the black velvet sky, unbothered to glance her way.

"hello," kita said, in an attempt to break the silence. he didn't so much as look at her, only humming lightly in response. she took that as an invitation to step closer and discover who it was that had snuck into her garden, only realized by the delicate white bandages wrapping his arms.

"oh, you're the one chuuya hates!" she blurted, recognition flashing across her face.

"and you're the girl who couldn't look away, aren't you~?" he teased, finally facing her. the light of the moon illuminated his features, and now she could, at last, get a good look at him. despite his playful tone, it was impossible to get a read on his emotions. he looked at kita with half-lidded eyes, like he was too lazy to find any importance in his being alive there.

"yeah, that's me," she responded, unphased.

it's true that she couldn't tear her gaze away from him before. he had caught her curiosity like a hook, and now she was set on discovering just who the boy was. kita had a talent for sensing another's loneliness. it took one to know one, and right now, that's the only thing she knew about him. even now, she couldn't look away from his enchanting, outcasted eyes.

he looked slightly taken aback by her straightforward answer –especially when she had lifted herself up to sit next to him– but he quickly regained his composure.

"chuuya kind of hates everybody. so aside from being one of the dozens of people he's banned me from... who are you?"

a comfortable silence fell between the two as she waited for his response, the only noise being a low breeze that softly flowed through the leaves of the weeping willow tree watching over the garden.

"what meaning is there in who i am?" the boy asked, letting out a breath he seemed to have been holding in, stretching his arms out in front of him in a manner that was a little too casual for the question he had just posed.

"everything has meaning. even the flowers in this garden have meaning."

he sent her a raised eyebrow, kita taking it as a challenge.

"what, you don't believe me? i'll prove it to you," she said.

pointing to a single white flower growing in the midst of a rose bush, she continued, "that small flower over there means, 'devotion and courage.' it dedicates its entire life to represent its meaning. don't you see?"

"i don't see it."

"then i'll show you," she grabbed his hand, and pointed it in the direction of the flower.

"in its own way, the edelweiss is making a courageous sacrifice by growing in that bush of thorny roses. it's devoting itself to protect the small white bud next to it, and without it, the flower bud would be left vulnerable to die. i'd call that meaningful."

"you see the purplish ones over there? they mean truth. but the orange ones next to it mean deception."

the boy was listening now, letting her have complete rule over his hands. she used his fingertips as pointers to identify all sorts of flowers and the meaningful relevance behind each one. truthfully, the night air had made them cold, but the warmth of her delicate hands on top of his brought both of their inner temperatures to a comforting match.

"and what about those?" he questioned, moving to point both of their hands at a cluster of blue flowers.

"these ones are saying, 'true love memories. do not forget me.'" kita smiled, reaching over and picking one by its stem.

"ow! ow ow ow ow," she whined, holding out her finger. "i forgot they had thorns."

"let me see." he held her bleeding fingertip to where it was visible in the moonlight. without any warning he pressed his lips to her wound, nearly kissing the redness away. when she sat there frozen, he dropped her hand with a satisfied smirk, lips now tinted scarlet.

"what the- you couldn't have just spared a bandaid?! it's still bleeding," kita yelped in a delayed reaction, pulling away to cradle her small injury.

"should i do it again?" he asked, tilting his head and holding a finger to his chin.

"no! i don't even know your name."

"aww, well in that case~ you can call me dazai! and your name?"

"kita. just kita."

dazai. she finally had a name to remember him by. she was glad, dazai seemed to be in a better mood from when they had first met thirty minutes ago. shaking her head, she looked back up at the night sky and let her ebony hair fall loosely behind her.

it seems she'll be sharing her garden with another from now on.

｡✣✤✥━━━━━━━━━━━━✥✤✣｡

❝𝚁𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙾𝙽 𝙻𝙸𝚅𝙸𝙽𝙶❞

1:05 ──♡────── 2:53

   |◁ II ▷|

— ʜᴏᴡ ᴄᴀɴ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪɴᴅ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ

ᴀ ꜱɪɴɢʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴛᴀʏ ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ

ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜɪɴɪɴɢ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴏꜰ ʏᴇꜱᴛᴇʀᴅᴀʏ

ɪꜱ ᴀ ʟɪᴠɪɴɢ ʟɪᴇ ᴏɴ ʙᴏʀʀᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴛɪᴍᴇ?

｡✣✤✥━━━━━━━━━━━━✥✤✣｡

author's notes: i have some big plans for this story! hope you guys enjoy!! if you have any specific requests for the story lmk and i'll add em!

[silence-burns]

Please Hate Me //part 33

Fandom: Marvel 

Summary: Based on “Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki.” by @thefandomimagine​

[Somewhere in a universe far, far away…] 

There was a soft brush of fabric on the polished floor that accompanied the approaching steps of leather shoes. Frigga stopped a little to Heimdall's left. 

"What do your golden eyes see, my friend?" 

"They see many things, my queen." 

Bifrost glimmered in the million colors under their feet. Lines and flashes passed faster than the human eye could see. The sword that was the key to every way, waited in Heimdall's hands.

"What do you see of my troubled sons?" 

"They are both learning through new experiences." 

Frigga sighed. "Which usually means they’ve gotten in even more trouble. Tell me, what is it this time?" 

Heimdall stood tall on the dais, the armor forged in ancient times by the hands of legends half forgotten by time still impeccable. The worlds moved before his eyes, with no secrets hidden from the gaze of the All-Watcher. 

"They are faring well, my queen. Even Loki." 

"I had hoped that banishment to Earth would be a better choice than the dungeons." Frigga's hand clutched the gown over her heart. "What did he do this time?" 

A smile ghosted on the lips of the All-Watcher. "It appears that he's made friends. Quite close ones, I dare say." 

"Oh, dear," Freya repeated in a completely different tone. A wicked light played in her eyes. "Do tell, my friend." 

*

[The same universe, a little closer] 

Life in big cities bears a certain strain on everyone's minds. Despite what the newspapers, thirsty for anything and everything worthy and unworthy of filling the pages with, would like you to believe, life had always been difficult. 

Time is always lacking, and money is never enough, and no matter how much you strain your brain, it just sometimes happens that you might not remember about the things stored at the very back of your tiny shop, tucked cozily into the corner of a very calm street. 

"Well," the man said. "I had no idea that I still had those in the freezers. I could've sworn that I have cleaned them before the winter and left nothing except for the packed broccoli. It must be your lucky day, my boy." 

The boy indeed felt very lucky. It was not everyday that one could be sent out to fetch ice cream for a living god in the middle of winter. 

"Have a nice day, sir!" he called on his way out. 

The chilly breeze bit into his cheeks, warmed up in the comforting interior of the grocery. Snow shined on the few surfaces not yet stamped on. The sidewalk Peter chose was a slippery trap that only his spider senses got him through unscathed. 

Loki sensed his coming, and looked over his shoulder at the approaching boy. His other arm was currently wrapped around your shoulders, tucking you closer into him. Peter tried his best not to stare too openly, but couldn't stop the grin from splitting his face. He sat on the other side of the god, the bench icy cold. 

"Thank you, my boy." The god took the ice cream with obvious delight. It had been your idea to spend the few hours before Peter's totally-not-a-date trying out the goods New York had to offer. At first, Loki had snickered at the suggestion of trying out whatever ice cream was available in the middle of winter, but after a few interesting flavors were discovered, Loki apologized. There was an almost disturbing variety of flavors Loki couldn't even imagine existing. 

"You're welcome, Mr. Mischief. I'm sure there would be a bigger choice if it was summer. I always go to that one vendor two streets away from my house, because he has this special recipe that absolutely blows my taste buds away every time." 

"Sounds intriguing." Loki's mind conjured the last time his taste buds had been blown away. If he recalled that unfortunate event correctly, it had something to do with pizza and a bet. "But I think I'll pass for now." 

The look of pure adoration in the boy's eyes hadn’t  perished. 

"I still can't believe you won't get sick after having so many," you said, and watched Loki devour the caramel. 

"It must be nice to be a god," Peter sighed. "You have awesome superpowers, get to do what you want and they even make action figures of you…" 

Loki frowned. "The what?" 

Peter blanched. He started fumbling with his jacket and 'accidentally' looked at his watch. "Oh, I think I’ve gotta go, it's getting so late and I don't want to make MJ wait—" 

Loki reached out and fixed the hair Peter had been nervously fighting with for the past few hours they'd all spent outside. "Don't forget the ring, boy." 

"Thank you!" 

The boy was beaming on his way out of the park. 

"I'm never washing my hair again." 

The totally-not-a-date that was steadily approaching was something Peter wasn't sure he was ready for. So many things could go wrong—and he had already imagined most of them. It wasn't as if he couldn't sleep all night thinking about it, he just… Was busy. Thinking. 

Peter straightened the jacket that was in absolutely no need of straightening. His hand moved to his hair, but he stopped it halfway with a smile. It'd  been touched by the hand of god, so it was as good as it could ever get. 

On his way out of the park the three of you had been resting in for a while, Peter's mind was in a strange disarray of thoughts. However, he was still capable of noticing the interesting new graffiti decorating the Avengers' statues set up in the middle of the park. Whoever decided to redecorate them this time, certainly had a pair of skillful hands. The wild mustache covering half of Iron Man's face looked almost lifelike. 

Loki and you watched the boy leave, nervousness apparent in his every too-stiff step. 

"They grow up so fast," you sighed, leaning further into Loki. 

He nodded. His finger circled lazily around your shoulder, drawing spiralling patterns. Loki turned his head toward the memorial statues raised in the central part of the park. People took pictures in front of them, posing and smiling as they milled around. Those were the heroes, after all. Saviors of the day. 

Loki added a mustache to another statue. 

You noticed and eased a giggle. "They're going to be so pissed." 

"My very soul aches at that thought. What a terrible crime." 

The patterns changed as you shifted slightly. The presence on his shoulder was warm and softened by the fabric of clothes that kept the winter frost from you. 

"I thought using magic in this world was difficult." 

"It is.There's a lot more focus required to make it work than I'm used to. It's nothing dramatic, though. I've heard of worlds where the trickle of magic is even more strained, to the point where it barely exists at all." 

"Do you miss them? The other worlds, I mean. Like Asgard." 

The patterns changed again. They slowed down, became more deliberate. 

"Sometimes," was the honest answer and the one he gave after careful consideration. 

"Will you leave, then?" 

Loki looked down at his wrist, where a thin band of metal used to reside, blocking every and all effort he might take against leaving Earth or using magic in any form. It was no longer there, which meant, although it would be extremely difficult to conduct, Loki could technically leave. 

The only obstacle was that it was no longer his priority. 

"I've never been one to sit aimlessly on my ass for too long, and especially not when and where I had been forced to do so. I think I could name more than a few places I'd like to pay a visit," he admitted, putting his cheek on the top of your head. His throat bobbed slightly. "The only problem is that I just recently found out how terribly boring touring alone might be. It's a real wonder why anyone bothers to do so anymore, and," he swallowed, "I think I could use some company." 

Loki cursed himself for putting his head on top of yours, and blocking the view of your face. Especially as he still didn't get any answer. His heart jumped into his throat, making it difficult to breathe. 

"...I mean, I know it's still so early, and that's okay if you feel overwhelmed or unsure and I won't force you into anything more than you're willing to do—” 

Loki's rumbles were cut short when you finally moved to look up at him. The wild gleam in your eyes and a wicked smile so similar to his struck him dumb. 

"You'd never be able to leave this planet without me." 

A choked breath, so similar to a whispered name ghosted over his lips. "Of course I wouldn't. What would be the fun in that?"

*

[The galaxy, elsewhere] 

"Oh, dear," the queen broke the biscuit in half with perfect manners. Barely any crumbs dared to ruin the fragile dessert. "I guess he really is experiencing something new." 

Heimdall sipped the tea. Servants at the queen's quarters left them with a small table full of goods of the highest sort. The warm breeze played with the curtains with the subtle shimmer of gold. The trees rustled on the wind, losing old leaves to it. 

"He's also plotting an escape," Heimdall added. His helmet laid on his knee. 

Frigga waved the biscuit in a gesture that had very little to do with manners. "That sounds more like him." 

The softest hint of a smile graced her features. 

"I wonder what will become of him. Maybe it's in my nature as a mother, but no matter how much I try, I can't help but continue to worry about him, even after all these years." 

"I swore to keep an eye on him, and I will." Heimdall put a hand to his heart. There was no smile on his face, only seriousness as he recalled an oath he'd never break. 

"Thank you, my friend."

[dancing-the-hellfire-rumba]

Tell Me Everything

Pairing: Chris Evans x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3k Summary:  Reader works as a costume designer in Marvel. She's currently working on Endgame, designing the costumes for each superhero (but especially her favorite one), when Chris stops by. Later, he tries it on. Mutal pining goodness and fluff all throughout :) Warnings: None :) A/N: It’s been a while. I’ve written for chris once only, and I already miss it. Here’s some fluff.

Earphones plugged in deep in her ears, blocking every other sound apart from her music. The side of her hand is dirty with pencil lead, leaving occasional smudges on the paper that she forgets to erase. It’s- there’s a lingering fatigue she can’t really shake off. She’s beyond exhausted, working so late in the night, still in her office, but doing this, right here, it feels so damn good. It doesn’t matter that she should be heading home, because all her repressed creativity is bleeding in the paper, flowing as if it’s pouring out of her veins . Finally, finally , doing the thing she’s great at, the thing she loves.

Her music is deep, dark, has a strong but slow beat to it, and she bobs her head along, uncaring of the strands of hair that are furiously escaping her ponytail. She gets lost in the design, vigorously making swooping lines and hard edges, scribbling to her heart’s content, erasing a line and coming back in. The tedious process of adding details makes her settle just a little.

These past few years have been incredible. Working for Marvel was a dream she didn’t even know she’d had, the opportunity of a lifetime, truly. During the time spent working with all these amazing people, she’s learned, she’s grown, she’d developed as an artist and as a person. She can say nothing less than she’s happy, truly happy here. She means, designing and creating costumes for this franchise has been a job she couldn’t have even dreamt of. It may get tiresome, sometimes boring and tedious, but right now, designing… she feels like she’s been born to do this and just this.

It’s been a while since she’d gotten so lost in a design. It may be the fact that this particular one, and the actor that’s supposed to wear it, is her favorite. She may be biased. But she’d had amazing ideas and she was so eager to just make them come to life.

She’s coloring the last of the star in the center of the chest, when fingers tap her shoulder. Having been so lost in her work and music, she feels like someone poured a bucket of water over her without warning, and she jumps, pulling her earbuds out by their wire and swiveling her chair to look at the intruder.

Chris smiles down at her, all teeth and soft eyes. His hands are in the air flamboyantly, It’s me!, dark grey, long sleeved Henley loose on his biceps, and dark wash jeans hugging his thighs tightly. His hair is grown longer, tucked behind his ears, his beard is… new , and very nicely trimmed. Her heart thumps a little louder at the sight of him. If anyone were to ask, she’d blame the jumpscare, but she knows better.

“Chris!” Excitedly getting off her seat and throwing her arms around his shoulders in a friendly hug. His own wrap around her tightly, squeeze her to him, if only for a second, and she exhales.

“Hey!” He tells her, just as excitedly, and she pulls back. “I’m sorry I scared you, I knocked and there was no answer.” She waves a hand to show him it’s okay and plops back on her seat unceremoniously.

“What are you even doing here?! I thought the cast was gonna show up next week, for the fittings?” A strand tucked behind her ear and she’s suddenly kind of self-conscious of her disheveled state. Chris leans his hip on her desk and crosses his arms over his chest casually, looking like one of those bad boys in 2000’s coming-of-age rom-coms. She tries not to stare, but it’s a struggle, and a funny thought crosses her mind. If she were looking at him for the first time, he’d be screaming trouble. He still does, but less because he’s scary and a heartbreaker, and more because she’s hopeless when it comes to being functional around him.

“I had some business up here in New York, and the Russo’s asked me to drop by. Something about paperwork.” He shrugs lightly and she ‘ah’s, accompanied by a nod and a brief eyebrow twitch to show her understanding.

“Well, I’m happy you dropped by. It’s been a hot minute, hasn’t it,” she smiles at him, and Chris nods, a bit of an apologetic, regretful almost, look in his eye.

“So,” he says and shifts his weight a little, “whatcha working on?”

“You, actually.” Lead-stained fingers pull the sketchbook under the light a little better, closer to him, and he gets off his hip, places his left hand on the back of her chair, leaning all his weight on his right, on the desk. His chest is suddenly so close to her face, her shoulder brushes his torso and she’s holding her breath , because he smells so good –cologne and aftershave?- she might fucking faint . She can feel her face heat up. She wonders if he’s doing it on purpose, if he knows at all. She watches his expression.

“Waddaya got?” It’s all interest in his voice, and he doesn’t seem to intend to move. Damn.

“Well,” she takes a shaky breath, “I figured, y’know-“ a mindless shrug, and his shirt is exceptionally soft and fairly thin, two layers between their bare skin, and- oh gosh, she's supposed to be explaining things. Focus! “Cap needs a new suit, and he’s a fugitive now, right? He doesn’t really care to get a new one tailored.” Chris exhales a chopped, amused breath and nods sideways, as if saying You have a point there . “So the old one would have to do.

“But it’s different now, because he can’t have the same exact one, completely untouched, and he’s a different man now anyways.” Scooting the chair closer to the desk on instinct- and fucking great , now she’s literally pressing into the bottom of his ribcage lightly with her shoulder. It’s getting harder to breathe. She can feel his exhales on her face, Jesus. “So basically,” a steadying, shaky breath, “I made it dirtier- that’s why the colors are darker. It’s supposed to be aging fabric. But it’s also more comfortable for you.

“The sleeves will end right here-” without giving it much thought, she traces a line under his right elbow, the one on which he’s leaning, and he follows the motion with his gaze intently, “and you’ll wear some fingerless gloves with buckles on them.” He nods, eyes still not off her design, occasionally flicking to glance at her. “But,” she begins.

“The detail I’m most excited for is this,” a tap on the star in the middle of the uniform- or rather lack thereof. The space where the plastic white thing once resided is now dark blue like the rest of the uniform. She grins up at him when his features twitch in interest. “I pitched this to Joe and he really loved it. Basically, my logic is that, as we said, Cap’s a fugitive, yeah?” Chris nods, attentive as ever. “He’s gone against every government official he knows, against a big chunk of his own team. The news have probably said awful things about him and painted him as a superhero gone rogue or something. So what does he do? He rips off the star.

“He no longer fits the Captain America title, in the sense that he doesn’t want to be associated with the government’s lap dog, their dancing monkey. Instead of faithfully following orders as a soldier, he’s his own self, still a Captain, but on his own terms. It’s symbolic! He’s carving his own  path, leading like he was always meant to, and he’s dramatic enough to have done this- ripped off the star I mean. The suit should feel more familiar to him now.”

She’s been rambling for a while, her mouth is drier, but she was so excited when the idea manifested in her head. A big sense of pride washed over her, she couldn’t wait to design and implement it in the costume.

And Chris, well… Chris is looking at her with this small little smile that grows the more he considers it. “I…” he shakes his head, a grin stretching his pretty lips, “I fucking love it,” he tells her, with so much genuine warmth in his tone. She’s never heard him this confident and proud , like a parent almost, glowing at her like she’s something brighter than a star. “That’s brilliant , Y/n, holy shit ! The fans will go nuts!” He leans close to inspect the design again with the new parameters in mind, shaking his hand as if disbelieving, smile remaining on his face. “You’re amazing .”

A hot, red blush spreads across her cheeks fiercely, and there’s a lingering urge to sit up straighter, to square her shoulders in pride and happiness, because she’s so happy he liked it¸ but she is now acutely aware of how close he is, still not having moved away from her since she pressed into him accidentally. She resorts to a one shouldered shrug. “Thank you,” her voice is meeker than she’d like it, but Chris doesn’t mention it. Instead, they share a smile.

=

“Ready?”

“I’m, unf, gimme a sec- I’m coming.” Some shuffling, and then the sound of the curtain being pulled back, and she puts her phone away, swiveling in her chair and- oh Christ.

“Chris… ” she says, eyes racking from the tops of his shoes, up his legs, his thighs, his belt. The way the comfortable material stretches over his fit stomach, up his curved chest, and extends up to the base of his neck- it’s, fuck, he looks so good. His veiny forearms are exposed to the warm lamp light in the room, and he’s not wearing the gloves, seeing as they’re sitting on her desk.

The dark blue of his suit makes his newly dyed hair look golden .

“How do I look?” He says with a grin, striking an exuberant pose just to make her smile, and she grins.

“I’ll give you like,” she pretends to think for a second, “a six out of ten.” A shrug and a bitten back smile, and his hand goes to his chest dramatically, thick eyebrows furrowing and blowing out a breath.

“Damn,” he tells her with a look in his eyes that she can’t really place, something teasing, but like they're sharing an inside joke of some kind. “Harsh critic,” it’s teasing and happy, and she chuckles, because yeah. This is quite  perfect. She grabs his gloves off her desk and gets off her chair, going up to him and holding them for him to squeeze his hands in. She tightens some buckles, smooths a hand over the leathery material, making non-existent creases disappear.

A step back, she inspects the way the material hugs his thighs so nicely, but is also still baggy, to give him some freedom of movement. His boots are almost knee high, and- it actually looks like it might be a bit tight in the neck. She steps closer to him, barely tests the two buckles in front of his shoulders, checking that there’s give for him to move in. “It’s good? Comfortable, I mean?” A finger dragged between the collar of his top and his neck, purely professionally she swears, it was a subconscious move to check how much space there is for him to breathe and move his neck. And that’s the moment stupid Chris chooses to hum and she feels it in the exhale hitting her face, the vibration of his throat.

God .

Her lips purse and she squints a little, pulling back her hand. I can make this better , she decides. “Don’t move,” she orders and heads to her desk, grabbing some needle and a thread that matches the color of his suit, along with a small blade. She walks back up to him again and, with a careful hand on his chest and the threaded needle carefully placed between her lips, she makes a few, strategically placed rips near the star with the blade.

“Don’t stab me,” he says, tone low for a reason she can’t understand but makes a shiver run through her.

“Don’t give me ideas,” she counters, and Chris’s stomach shakes a little with a short, contained laugh. Continuing, she distresses the fabric, and patches up the edges so they won’t tear further during filming, allowing a string or two to stick out.

She is absolutely, of course, not ignoring how she can feel every single one of his breaths, and how he’s so good and still, and his hands are only a handful of inches away from her waist, his face hellishly close to hers.

A released exhale and a nod to herself. “Perfect,” she says quietly. She wraps the threaded needle around the handle of the blade so as to not lose it and throws it back on her desk haphazardly, to put away later. Unmoving from her spot near him, she gazes at the rips and decides it was a good addition. For just a second, it seems she forgets exactly how close he is, and now she looks up to him for approval, finding that same intent stare, straight into her soul from only three inches away.

There’s a sudden urge to shrink and disintegrate, confidence gone. Clothes she can handle. Chris she really can’t.

Baby blue eyes are watching her, standing perfectly still for her to do her thing, but there’s a, dare she say , affection of sorts in his gaze, and she’s very much struck with it. “You look great, Cap’n,” breathy and quiet, because she can’t fucking sit in silence when he looks at her like that. Chris smiles.

“All thanks to you.” A grin at the praise, at the lowered tone of his voice, as if he doesn’t want to break the moment with loud words. She should step back, b- but she physically cannot. Her muscles are seriously unwilling to move. This is her being weird, right? She’s crossing a line by taking advantage of his proximity, right? Why- He’s not showing any signs of awkwardness or discomfort though.

She’d like to know how one stretches a moment to eternity, a piece of knowledge she'd most certainly use right now. His cologne is the same as last week, when he visited in her office, comforting and musky, and he’s- he’s just looking at her with his beautiful eyes boring into hers, his warmth just centimeters away.

“You’re very close to me,” what a stupid thing to say , she scolds herself, but she just- she doesn’t know what else to do. Is it normal to feel such heat radiate from his body, or is that her mind playing tricks? She wants to curl into him, into said warmth, bury her nose in his neck and nuzzle there. It’s an urge that hits her like a tidal wave, and it almost makes her stagger on her feet. Her heart beats faster, inflated and full, adrenaline coursing through her veins all of a sudden. Chris swallows a little and nods. “What are you gonna do about it?”

There’s almost no charm in his tone, he looks borderline nervous, but there’s still some confidence in his velvety voice for him to flirt with her, the bastard and- she’s not imagining this, right? She’s not dreaming or anything? Chris actually enjoys this proximity, this closeness, he���s not pulling away. He just- he just sort of gave her consent to do something, anything. The ball is in her court, a challenge, proving she actually can do something about this.

With a shaky hand, she presses her palm flat on his chest.

A mental barrier is broken by that  touch and Chris seems to curl closer, if possible. His gloved hand goes to her waist, holding her near him, his head dipping lower, and she’s standing on her tiptoes. Noses brushing together, a challenge, emphasized in the teasing curl of his lips, sharing the same air. Beard tickling her top lip as she inches closer. A small hand on his face, and she licks her lips instinctively, parts them a little- and closes the gap between them.

It’s soft and wet and everything she’s ever dreamt of really, and holy shit , she’s dreamt of this. It’s actually happening, right now. He’s in his dumb Captain America uniform, pulling her close so now their chests are pressed together, moving his lips against hers slowly, and his hands are in leather gloves with buckles on them. The thought makes her smile a little, to the point where now the kiss is all teeth, and he pulls back for a second, as if sensing her amusement.

“What?” he asks. Her forehead leans on his chest, a sad attempt to hide her grin. His arms, one wrapping around her waist, his other hand on her back.

“I’m kissing Captain America,” and Chris lets out a single, incredulous breath, eyes rolling to the back of his head as if to say, you’re unbelievable. She grins up at him, a challenging eyebrow raised. Am I wrong though?

Teeth trap her bottom lip and she worries it for a moment as they quiet again, lost in thought and looking at him absently. She wants to kiss him again. She likes how his hands are warm on her back, how his chest is lean under her. Leaning on her tiptoes again, she smiles softly and brushes her nose on his cheek affectionately, because it’s suddenly okay to do so, the hairs of his beard scratchy against her skin. Chris is not having it though, and he turns his head to capture her lips again.

It feels so good, she thinks, as she instinctively places gentle fingers on his jawline to keep him tilted to her. It’s like the world is blooming. Like her heart is bursting through the seams, chest far too small for it. She kisses him, and he holds her just this much closer.

She’s kissing Captain America. And it’s a damn good fucking kiss.

Tags: @thegetawaywriter​ 

[alolowrites]

The Precious Diamond on the Swing

Summary: The swings at the local park always had a special place in both Kirishima and his daughter’s heart. 

Author’s Note: Hello everyone! I’m pleased to share with you all my seventh story for @bnhabookclub​’s Hero Camp Bingo event. This story is my second longest and the bingo prompt used was “Domestic.” I actually hit bingo :D! However, the event is still not over until August 31st. Hopefully I can churn out another two bingo stories. 

Anyways, it’s been a while since I wrote something for Kirishima. When I saw the prompt, my mind went for him and I started brainstorming. This was the end result. Please note: Kirishima is a pro-hero and father! 

I hope you all enjoy :) 

Word Count: 3K+

Puffy white clouds floated leisurely across the peaceful blue sky. The sun’s rays burst through the clouds, basking the quiet playground under a soft glow. A two-year-old boy explored the gigantic sandbox with his father perched at the edge. Three friends chased each other by the jungle gym, their laughter lingering in the warm spring air.

Ishiko Kirishima was not interested in the sandbox nor the jungle gym. Instead, she cared for the lovely swing-set that sat at the far corner of the playground. Kirishima parked the stroller by the fence and carried his eight-month-old daughter toward the swings. There were only two seats, both colored red and sturdy as a metal plank.

“You’ll take a seat on daddy’s lap, princess,” Kirishima cooed, securing his massive arm around Ishiko’s tiny frame. Her chubby fingers curled eagerly against Kirishima’s hand. In her left grasp was the baby’s favorite silicone teether—a shark toy from Red Riot’s baby collection; unsurprisingly, it was covered in drool. She shoved it back in her mouth to continue her mindless chewing.

“Don’t swing too fast, okay?”

“I won’t, hun, she’s in good hands!”

Kirishima flashed you his signature smile and bounced his knee to get his baby girl excited. You stood on the side with your phone, ready to take endless pictures. Kicking his foot back, Kirishima gently rocked the swing to start the fun. Soon he swung to the rhythm of his heartbeat in hopes of not overwhelming his daughter.

“Oh my gosh, she’s loving it!” You squealed, snapping pictures of Ishiko’s adorable smile. A gurgled laugh rang into the air, and Kirishima’s heart swelled when he heard it. The sound was merely innocent, just like her soul. Kirishima held his daughter closer as he added an extra kick to the swing’s pace.

“Of course she loves it!” Kirishima beamed down at Ishiko. “My little princess is the most manliest baby in this park. She’s not afraid of a little swing!”

Kirishima refused to stop the joyride. If the swings made Ishiko happy, then he’ll gladly swing for all eternity. His numb butt would just have to deal with it.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

“Ishiko!”

Kirishima’s red eyes searched through the massive jungle gym for his little girl. Her giggles echoed from a tunnel, and she scurried across the wobbly wooden bridge. Kirishima’s hand playfully tried to nab her through the free space between the columns. A lopsided grin stretched on his face as Ishiko jumped away from his claws. Eventually, the five-year-old stopped squirming and grabbed the thin pillars to hold herself still.

“Daddy, you are silly!”

“I can be even more silly!” He lurched forward to tickle the girl’s stomach. She giggled loud enough for everyone in the block to hear. Kirishima shifted the book-bag that was sliding down his shoulder. “C’mon, princess, we have to go. Mommy is almost coming home, and we want to surprise her, right?”

“No!”

“Princess…”

“I wanna keep playing!”

Kirishima bit his lip, glancing around the nearly empty playground for an answer. A lightbulb went off in his head when he spotted something. He smiled, “Ishiko, do you want me to push you on the swings?”

That got her attention as she flew down the maze-like jungle gym like no tomorrow. She made a break toward the swing-set, her worn-out sneakers pounding the pavement. Kirishima ran after Ishiko while shaking his head. She wasted no time climbing on the seat, her tiny legs swaying back and forth to a song she heard at school.

Ishiko chirped, “Push me, daddy!”

“Okay, but hold on tight,” he said, pulling the swing back. Kirishima let go and watched as Ishiko went forward. His hand pushed lightly on the girl’s back. At first, it was not so bad keeping up with the pace. Except, Ishiko demanded to go faster. Kirishima pursed his lips, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, daddy! I wanna be a bird!”

“Fine, but only for a few minutes. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Yay!”

Kirishima pushed a little harder. His nerves disappeared when he heard Ishiko’s delightful squeals coming and going with each swing that passed him. A soft grin appeared on his face as he saw how carefree Ishiko looked. Something about her laugh and smile made him feel so content, as if he was floating in the clouds above. It helped him forget about the never-ending stress and chaos that came with his hero work. None of that existed whenever he was with his daughter.

Lost in his thoughts, Kirishima blinked when Ishiko shouted, “I can reach the sky, daddy!”

His daughter’s left hand let go of the chain to grab the clouds. She lost her balance mid-air and fell forward. Kirishima shifted into hero mode, rushing to save his little girl, but was too late; she hit the ground face first. Panic rushed through his veins as he scrambled down to his knees, bracing himself for the worst.

However, his shaky hands stilled when he saw a crystallized arm. Kirishima carefully turned Ishiko’s body around and sighed in relief when confused eyes stared back at him. She glanced down, her mouth in awe at the light bouncing off her arms. Kirishima traced his finger along the visible lines across her diamond face; he was speechless at the new revelation.

“Daddy…what’s going on?” Ishiko was afraid, and Kirishima immediately comforted her with a bear hug.

“Oh, Ishiko, are you okay?!” The likelihood of finding any scratches or injuries was close to none, but his parental anxiety was off the charts. Out of instinct, Kirishima tried brushing her hair, except it was solid as well. Bringing her to his chest, he exhaled, “Oh honey, you scared me, but I’m glad you’re not hurt.”

“Why do I feel hard?”

“It’s your quirk, princess!”

“My…quirk?” Ishiko pulled away to examine her hands. Her fingers sparkled under the sun’s rays, and she giggled. Looking up, she beamed, “I got my quirk! I feel hard like you, daddy! Look, look!”

Kirishima nearly burst out into tears of joy.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

“Don’t worry, hun, I’ll take care of dinner,” Kirishima soothed your nerves. You called him saying you’ll be stuck at work for another hour. A massive business deal had gone sour due to some miscommunication. Your team was trying to salvage it, and you stepped away from the madness to apologize to your husband about coming home late.

Kirishima hugged the grocery bag in his grasp. The walking-man appeared, and he crossed the street with a grin. “Besides, I’m gonna cook a delicious meal for my favorite two darlings! If anything, I call this a win.”

The call was cut short when you had an urgent meeting to attend. Kirishima said a quick ‘love you’ before hanging up. He took a cheerful step. Kirishima always admired your unwavering dedication and confidence. No challenge was too daunting for you, closing business deals with ease despite some hiccups. Kirishima was lucky to be your husband and have you as Ishiko’s mother. You were an incredible role-model to her. As a result, your daughter was growing up to be much like you—resilient, driven, and independent.

The last one was very much true.

Kirishima understood this was bound to happen. Ishiko was growing up, turning thirteen two weeks ago. But he silently wished she didn’t grow up too fast. The pro hero missed taking Ishiko to the neighborhood park, watching his little diamond—a new nickname after her quirk manifested eight years ago—playing in the sandbox or jungle gym.

He especially missed pushing her on the swing.  

Turning around the corner, Kirishima passed by the park that swam in his thoughts. He casually glanced to his left and stopped when he saw Ishiko. She was sitting on the swing, sliding her shoes on the ground. Three friends from school were with her chatting up a storm. One of them felt Kirishima’s gaze and let Ishiko know.  

The teenager jogged toward her father. She greeted, “Hey, dad. I see mom called you.”

“Yup, I’m on dinner duty tonight!” He went into a heroic pose, puffing out his chest. Ishiko groaned in embarrassment. Kirishima laughed, “Oh c’mon, you love it when I do the poses!”

“Yeah, when I was like seven,” Ishiko snorted, rolling her eyes. Kirishima feigned being hurt, and his daughter shook her head. “I’ll be home in ten minutes to help you out with dinner.”

“Oh, honey, you don’t have to do that—”

“But I want to help.”

“Well,” Kirishima scratched the back of his head, “I can’t argue with that.”

Ishiko beamed and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. She ran back to her friends, and took her seat at the swing. Suddenly, the sun broke through the clouds. Kirishima was mesmerized at the soft glow shining down at Ishiko; she was radiant, and her glorious smile made the flowers bloom.

Out of nowhere, Kirishima was staring at Ishiko except she was five again. A wave of nostalgia hit him like a bullet train. She was soaring high on the swing, her contagious laughter melting his heart in seconds. The bright sun blinded his eyes, and he blinked—the little girl was gone. He was back in the present with Ishiko swinging lightly in the distance.

Kirishima held back his tears.  

His precious diamond was growing up.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

There were a lot of “firsts” when it came to raising children.

First baby steps, first baby tooth falls off, the first day of school, first crush—the list went on and on. Except none of them hurt Kirishima so much like Ishiko’s first heartbreak.

She returned home from U.A. for the weekend with disheartening eyes that shrunk the pro hero’s giddy smile. Ishiko didn’t utter a word as she stormed into her old room, slamming the door behind her. It shook the entire house and left Kirishima confused. Narrowing his eyes, he stood up from the couch to figure out what was wrong, but you laid a gentle hand on his arm.

“Give her some space, Eiji.”

“But she’s upset!”

“Which is why she needs to be alone,” you said, giving him a quick squeeze. Kirishima sent a longing gaze at the doorway. Sighing, he begrudgingly plopped down on the sofa. You snuggled closer to your brooding husband, planting a kiss on his cheek. “I know it’s hard, but she’ll let us know what’s bothering her when she’s ready. Although, I think I already have an idea…”

“Which is?”

“First heartbreak.” Kirishima went stiff at the answer. You rested your head on his shoulder and mumbled, “Those eyes don’t lie.”

Ishiko didn’t leave her room for a while. Kirishima decided to buy some ingredients to make Ishiko’s favorite meal for dinner. He hoped it would cheer her up, even for just a little bit. When he returned home, you mentioned that Ishiko stepped out for some fresh air at the local playground. Kirishima dropped the grocery bags and flew out the door without looking back.

The glowing sun slowly sank behind the houses sitting in the distance. A vibrant golden and amber color illuminated across the cloudless sky, blessing the neighborhood with a peaceful scenery. Kirishima nearly snorted at the ironic mood.

He skidded to a halt when he arrived at the entrance. An old couple was strolling around, but Kirishima searched for his daughter. The hero found her sitting on the swing with drooped shoulders and a bowed head. Both of Kirishima’s fists clenched at the young girl’s presence. However, he swallowed his anger as it wasn’t the right time.

His baby was hurt and needed comfort.

So, Kirishima treaded carefully to the swings. Ishiko’s head twitched when she heard soft footsteps, and peeked at the familiar shoes standing by the small entrance. Kirishima approached the quivering girl, resting his large hand on her shoulder. Ishiko finally looked up at her father with puffy red eyes—she was crying again.

“C’mon here, princess,” Kirishima whispered, his arms opening up for support. Ishiko’s face crashed into his chest as her arms wrapped around him. She wept loudly, the tears staining his shirt although Kirishima didn’t care. He simply hugged her tighter and rubbed circles on her back, murmuring, “It’s okay, daddy’s got you.”

He never let go.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

A small ball of light gleamed in the sky. It grew more prominent in size, the sun’s rays glowing behind the houses and trees on the quiet streets. Everyone was sound asleep except for Kirishima—he was enjoying his daily morning run. Staying in tip-top shape was necessary for the pro hero, especially for a middle-aged man like himself. But he was still energetic as ever, which put a few young heroes to shame.

Kirishima came to a slow stop after reaching his goal for today. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with a satisfied grin. The street was bathed under the sun’s soft glow, and Kirishima strolled back home. He couldn’t wait to take a nice warm shower before heading to work today.

As usual, Kirishima walked by the neighborhood park. However, he paused when his eyes noticed someone by the swings. Blinking twice, he realized it was Ishiko. A puzzled look crossed his face, and he walked toward her.

“Hey, honey, whatcha doing up so early?”

“Just watching the sunrise, that’s all,” she answered softly, almost afraid to wake up anyone. Her left hand gripped the chain while the other rested on her lap. Kirishima arched an eyebrow, but said nothing.

The hero took a seat on the empty swing beside his daughter. He then followed her gaze at the rising sun.

A peaceful silence settled between the father-daughter duo. Some birds were finally awake, their wings flapping to find breakfast for the day. A small chirp caught Ishiko’s attention. There was a nest sitting high on the tree’s thick branch, and a baby bird was by the edge. It seemed old enough to fly on its own, but appeared hesitant to leave the nest.

“Dad…” Kirishima stared at his daughter, hearing her voice crack a little. Ishiko met his gaze and sighed, “Do you ever feel…nervous? Like, so much to the point that you can’t sleep?”  

“Many times,” he hummed truthfully, and fondly remembered when you were pregnant with Ishiko. He was a mess as the due date inched closer, and jittered like a frantic cat when your water broke at three in the morning. The corner of his mouth curled in amusement at the memory. He gently asked, “What’s on your mind, princess?”

“The hero exchange program.” Ishiko’s feet drag themselves on the ground, her head slightly low. “I know this is an amazing opportunity. I get to work alongside an incredible American pro hero and their team and maybe learn some new skills. But I feel…scared.”

Kirishima stayed quiet. Ishiko’s hand curled tighter on her lap as she quivered, “I’ll be living on the other side of the world for a year. Everyone I know will stay here—including you and mom. I have never been so far away from you guys in my life. I guess it’s finally sinking in now that I’m leaving this Friday.”

“It’s always hard facing the unknown,” Kirishima started, his posture straightens up. “You don’t know what’s going to happen, but you can always count on yourself to get through it. I know you can. You’ve always been strong and courageous, Ishiko.”

He pulled out his cellphone to show her a particular photo. It was the one you took many years ago when Ishiko was only eight months old. She was sitting on Kirishima’s lap, and on the very same swing she swayed right now.

Kirishima chuckled, “No matter how fast I rocked, you never cried.”

“That’s ‘cause you were holding me.”

“True,” he shrugged as the sun peeked through the trees. “But then you started sitting on your own. I’d push you as high and fast as I could. Eventually, you began to swing on your own. No matter what, you’d let out the most precious laughs every time you reached the sky. You were so confident with yourself that I smiled from the sides.”

Tears glistened in Kirishima’s eyes once the floodgates opened. All of his memories with Ishiko came crashing with a force that not even his unbreakable form could resist. Ishiko mirrored her father’s emotional reaction, little sniffles echoing into the early morning hours. Kirishima soon reached out to squeeze her hand—a tender, but powerful gesture.

“Your mother and I are so proud of who you’ve become,” Kirishima choked out a smile, caressing his thumb on her skin. “We raised you to be a formidable young woman who carries her strength with grace. I know you’ll stand confidently wherever you go. But I’ll always be in your heart if you ever need a little push.”

Ishiko wiped away her tears, standing up to hug her father. Kirishima met her halfway and pulled his daughter into a warm embrace. He raised her, protected her, and held her for eighteen years. She was a constant presence in his life, a ray of light shining brighter than any star in the universe. Despite the pain in his heart, Kirishima realized it was time to let go of his precious diamond to the whole world.

Yet, no matter how old Ishiko becomes, she will forever remain Kirishima’s little girl in his eyes.

“Hey, dad?” A deep hum rumbled through his chest. She pulled away and flashed him a faint smile. The following question made his heart stop when he heard: “Can you push me on the swing?”

After his shock, he grinned, “Of course.”

Ishiko eagerly hopped on the swing as if she were five years old again. The sun basked the entire park under its golden blanket, waking up the flowers from their deep slumber. Kirishima pulled his daughter back before giving a soft push to start the swing. The little bird in the nest chirped and flapped its wings. Soon it took the ultimate step to leave the nest, soaring proudly in the air filled with Ishiko’s innocent laughter.

Kirishima continued pushing his daughter on the swing. He once promised to gladly swing with her as a little baby. Now he’ll keep that promise by pushing her forever if it made her happy.

His sore arm would just have to deal with it.

Seventh prompt crossed off. Which one will be next? Stay tune! Thank you for reading!

Previous Prompt: Pro Hero AU

Hero Camp Bingo Masterlist

[thatlesbiannudistcult-stories]

Blooming Rose preview

Here it is, just as I promised. The preview of the new story I've been working on set in the universe of That Lesbian Nudist Cult. Enjoy and look forward to the full chapter coming soon.

***

"Um, are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Of course it's a good idea, Rosie."

"But...you're still...naked!"

"Yes, I am," June smirked, striking a pose that displayed both her boobs and her butt to her niece. "And I have been for over half a year now. And I always will be. I am naked forever now, and everyone has learned to accept that. Including Paisano's. Now come on. We've dilly-dallied long enough."

She took Rose's hand into her own and half-dragged, half-guided her into what had long been the pair's favorite Italian restaurant. June walked across the parking lot, past all the cars, and into the doors like everything was perfectly normal, from the dim ambient lighting of the establishment to her state of complete nakedness. She had nothing on, nothing at all, not even any shoes. Every inch of her body was laid bare and exposed for Rose's eyes to feast on, and feast on her she did. From her position, Rose had the perfect view of her aunt's complete figure. She could see June's every nook and every curve, from the way her shoulders and her buttocks expanded outward from her narrow waist, to how the shadows fell deep into her contours and accentuated her taut and toned muscles. She could see the way they stretched and rippled as she walked, how her long dark hair swung rhythmically as she moved, and how serpentine her hips were as they swayed with every step she took. Rose felt her eyes inevitably fall upon the globes of June's bulbous butt cheeks, drawn to them as if they projected their own gravitational force. They looked so soft and so smooth, like they were carved from marble, and yet they quivered in a way that reminded Rose that they were flesh and blood. Law and society demanded they be covered and hidden from the world, and yet here they were, out and exposed for everyone to gaze upon! For...Rose to gaze upon.

"Here we are, this is our table. You can let go now, Rose."

"Huh?" the younger girl stammered, taking her eyes off June's butt and seeing her aunt was now looking at her directly. "Oh, right, right, yes, of course!" Instinctively, she pulled her hand away from her aunt's and shuffled haphazardly into her booth seat, clutching her hand close to her chest. The hand that had just been touching her aunt so...intimately. Wait...why was she thinking that?

She didn't have enough time to figure out why before a waitress bounced over to the table. "Oh, June, ah, I mean, uh...Miss Tress, how good to see you again. Shall I get you the usual?"

"Yes, please," June said with a gentle smile, flattening a hand upon her breast in such a way that caused it to jiggle slightly. Rose's eyes bounced with every minute vibration in the supple flesh.

"And what will your date be having tonight?"

Rose felt her whole face burst into flame. "D-date?"

"Oh no, it's nothing of the sort this time," said the naked woman. "This is my niece, Rose."

The waitresses' face could easily have been a reflection of Rose's with how red it turned. "Oh. Oh. Of course. I'm so sorry, I-I didn't know you...I mean you look so young and...shoot, I didn't mean..."

"It's alright, don't beat yourself up over it," said June, placing a reassuring hand on the woman's arm. "I know I look young. The Goddess made me this way. Now how about you just get our drinks and let my precious Rose decide on her order."

"Right. That's what I should be doing. I am working after all, heh, heh, heh, heh," the waitress said with a nervous giggle.

After taking the younger woman's drink order and scurrying away, Rose turned to her aunt and said "Do you know that girl?"

"You could say that I do," said June cryptically. "I am a regular here after all."

"Of...of course," Rose stuttered nervously, not knowing if that was a confirmation that her aunt had sex with the girl or not. She really needed to stop thinking about that. Even though her aunt had explained that her new religion meant she had to be more...feisty, June's sex life was still none of her business.

"So how has school been going?" said June.

"Huh? Oh, it's...been going...good I guess."

"Have you been doing anything interesting lately?"

"Not really," Rose said almost mechanically with a disinterested shrug, knowing nobody was ever actually interested in what she actually studied at school. But then she remembered this wasn't just nobody she was talking to. This was Aunt June. The same Aunt June who was always more supportive of Rose's interests and hobbies than just about every other grown-up in her life. Maybe the bespectacled girl could afford to tell her after all. "Well, actually, me and some friends were working on a game last semester."

"A game?" June asked, leaning forward to rest her chin on her hand.

"Uh, yeah, just some small thing. It's not in a playable state or anything yet, but I've mostly been drawing all the sprites—that is, all the characters and enemies in it—and animating them."

"Oh, cool. Are you able to show those off just yet?"

"Yeah. I should have all my files saved up on my computer. Walk cycles and everything! I even made this one squid-like character that I'm especially proud of, with flailing tentacles and all."

"Ooooh, tentacles. Kinky!" giggled June, wagging her eyebrows at Rose in a way that was too comical to even be considered suggestive. Rose couldn't help but laugh with her "I would love to see these sprites later."

"Yeah. I had a lot of fun making them."

"Is this for a school project?"

"No, it's just something we're doing on the side for fun. But...we think we might be able to make it into a real project next semester.

For the first time since she had laid eyes on her aunt's naked body, Rose smiled. Despite everything that had changed about June, she was still the aunt she had always known. Sure she was a little more completely naked all the time now and she swore the older woman had regressed in age by at least ten years give or take, but she was still as easygoing and fun to talk to as she always was. Perhaps Rose would have an easier time adjusting to her new lifestyle than she initially thought.

The drinks came and soon enough, so did the food, and the two women spent all that time enjoying their meal as they conversed about all the usual things going on in their lives and what they hoped to accomplish over the next week they would spend with each other. And while it was impossible for Rose to not take notice of every instance her aunt's generous bosoms bounced and jiggled around, she was finding herself growing more comfortable with the things in all their bare, cream-colored glory. If she just thought of them as another one of June's quirky qualities, they wouldn't seem so bad no matter how much they bobbled around on the older woman's chest. Neither would the red nubs on them, which seemed to grow longer with every passing minute.

Eventually, the girls finished up their meal and the waitress came asking if they would like dessert. Rose placed an order for a delectable-looking chocolate mousse cake, but June just smiled mysteriously, let out a breathy sigh, and said: "Will you be taking your break soon?"

"Yes!" the waitress beamed, her eyes and her lips bouncing upward excitedly. "Uh, I mean, of course I will...if you want."

"I do. It's been...so long," said June, who was drawing in very deep, husky breaths.

The waitress gave a curt nod before scurrying away with an excited look on her face. Rose quirked an eyebrow at her retreating form. What was that about?

"So, uh, you're not...ordering anything?" she said, turning back to her aunt.

"She knows exactly what I want."

[bonbonthedragon]

Hello! may i request Hawks,Mirio and Tamaki with an s/o who likes to dress up in decora kei fashion?

Heck yes I will, I love decora Kei fashion! Especially punk! Hope these were ok :)

S/O in decora Kei

Here’s what is is btw for those who don’t know! Colorful style Punk style Masterlist

Hawks:

• honestly, you help keigo with his eye liner

• Its part of his hero outfit, even when he’s not out and about doing hero things, he ask you if you can help him before he goes out for the day

• he supports it, he thinks you look bad ass

• like, when you wear those 5inch heel boots...hot, he thinks it just makes you all the more attractive when you go from being shorter/his height/ or taller, to even taller.

• he helps you when you die your hair, and if you don’t do that, then helps you put on your wigs if you wear those.

• he enjoys decorating your hair in colorful barrettes too, even if he puts too much or does it wrong, just let him have this moment, bird boi’s just happy you let him help😋🙃

• thigh highs! He loves them

• LOVES showing you off and your style to the public, trying to keep the relationship secret? Vary difficult

• he’s so proud of you, loves the look on your face when you get your outfit just right, he just wants people to see his s/o and how amazing you are

• he buys you things too, been talking about a certain pair of giant rainbow or spider earrings (depending on if you do colorful fashion or dark), you know he will be getting them the next day

• all in all, he loves it, he loves you

“Keigo, stop��� you whispered, swatting his hands away from under the restaurant table

“You look so good though” brings his hands back to your thigh “you know I love it when you wear thigh highs” he smirked at you, only making you blush more

Mirio:

• boi gets so pumped

• he is all over you, like, you just look so cute (punk or colorful) your adorable

• likes to take pictures of you

• that tree looks cool? Better believe he going to have you go pose by it so he can save it to his camera roll to look at when he misses you

• and he does do that, boi gets depressed when your not around

• he likes to buy you shoes, out of anything he can gift you with, it’s shoes

• like hawks, he thinks it’s so cool how you can walk around it tall heels, so be prepared to be walking in shoes as tall they can legally make them

• if you go to a convention, he will most definitely volunteer to be your personal photographer, even if he’s not so great at it, he’s just so happy, let him do it 🥺

• brag, that’s all

• talks about you and how you can beat anybody in a fashion contest, how pretty you are and great

• he LOVES matching you, even if it’s the small things

• only wearing black, will wear black too, even tho he’s a pure sunshine boi

• wearing colorful and pastel clothes? He’s gonna go find the brightest shirt to wear

• put your clips in his hair, he loves it, makes him smile and bounce in happiness

• one time you gave eri a little outfit, nothing too extreme, just a cute shirt and puffy skirt and light up shoes that matched one of your outfits, clips also in her hair

• lets just say mirio almost cried

Mirio had you play and decorate his hair during free time in class

Mirio watched in the hand mirror you provided him “mmmmm...more”

“Love, your heads going to hurt if you wear too much, and it’s only free period, I’ll have to take them off soon” you responded

“I don’t wanna take em off, they match yours!”

Tamaki:

• this Boi

• you know your not afraid of anything or care what people think, you dress how you want, it’s apart of you, if they have a problem, they can go somewhere else

• as for him, not so much, but just because he’s not as confident about himself, he’s most definitely loves and supports what you wear

• if someone has a problem, he will say something even if he’s shy about it

• he thinks you look AMAZING, loves everything you put on

• even though he doesn’t like to draw attention to himself, you definitely do

• so when you go out, he’s actually not that paranoid about it, he loves that so many are in awe of you

• makes him happy that your his and not anybody else’s, he can come home to you and they can’t, your all his and he’s yours 🥰

• likes to help you get ready, enjoys you asking if he likes something or dislikes it, makes him feel good knowing you trust him

• STICKERS

• don’t tell me he doesn’t like decorating your face in them

• because he LOVES it

• you do it back

• one time he was leaving to go to the agency after visiting you in your dorm

• he forgot about the stickers on his face and hair you put on him

• Kirishima and fatgum made fun of him, poor baby went straight to the corner

• doesn’t care in the end because you looked so happy when you put them on

• that’s all that matters

“Aww come on senpai! We didn’t mean it, you actually look kinda cute!” Kirishima patted his friend back

“Yeah! No need to be embarrassed!” FatGum reassured

After that, kiri and FatGum helped him regain what confidence he had left. You also dropped lunch off for him the following hour, to which kiri and the pro hero asked you to decorate their face too

[confusednarcissistwrites]

Scope It Out (D.M.)

(lol sorry for the photo quality)

Another request for the darling @thestarsaregivenonceonly​ that I took over to lighten her work load a bit 💛 I decided on Danny Middleton as I love the aesthetic of Hot Summer Nights and really couldn’t resist. I hope you enjoy, anon!

(cursing, slow burn, friends to lovers, fluff to rot ur teeth)

You strolled up the driveway, quickly spotting Danny polishing the headlights of his car. Smirking, you hopped up onto the hood to get his attention.

“Dannyyyyyy,” you sang, posing for him. “Do I look like a good fake girlfriend?”

“Y/N, Jesus, you scared the shit out of me,” he gasped, jumping up to his feet. He wiped his hands with the rag he’d been holding, his eyes scanning over you with a smirk. “You look great.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, much to your chagrin. You wore a high waisted, denim skirt with a striped sweater tucked in and yellow socks bunched above your red, hightop converse. You felt good.

“It will definitely get McKayla’s attention having you on my arm.”

You turned away a bit, trying to hide the way your face fell. You cleared your throat, quickly slapping on a smile. “Thanks! I thought so.” You slipped off of the car, hopping into the passenger side while he grabbed his coat and wallet and climbed in next to you. You briefly wondered how anyone could possibly not see him as attractive as you watched him fix his hair in the rear view mirror.

“What?” he asked, feeling your eyes on him.

You turned away, rolling your eyes. “Nothing. Just if you keep playing with your hair you’re gonna look like Travolta.”

“Shut up.” He started the car and sped out of the driveway, making you laugh loudly. You turned up the radio and sang along obnoxiously, your hair whipping in the wind. Danny joined in and you really didn’t think anything got much better than that moment.

When you arrived at the fairgrounds, the sky was just beginning to change colors with the sunset. He’d wanted to get there early to “scope it out,” in his words. You’d told him he was ridiculous, but decided you didn’t mind if it meant you got to go on more rides. He parked the car and turned it off, exhaling a heavy breath. “Show time,” he grinned, slipping out of the car and grabbing his stuff from the backseat. He circled around the car and helped you out. “Oh, hey. You should wear this,” he said, holding his bomber jacket up for you to slip into. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you did as he asked. He then offered you his hand, wiggling his eyebrows. “M’lady?” You laughed softly, intertwining your fingers with his. You couldn’t help but think how well they fit together. It was quickly dawning on you that all of this was going to be more difficult than you’d originally thought.

Leading the way through the gates, Danny bought you both thick stacks of tickets for games and rides. He’d insisted on paying for everything since you were doing him this favor. Some favor. You walked hand-in-hand through the groups of little kids and teenagers getting their fill of carnival food and squealing with glee. You smiled, feeling the summertime spirit fill you up. You could almost let yourself forget why you were there.

“Now, I don’t think she’ll be here till later, so do you want to get something to eat first?”

“Sure,” you responded, allowing him to lead you over to all the vendor stands. You guys made small talk while splurging on all the greasy food your stomachs could handle. Talking to Danny had always been easy. However, you were grateful to see him drifting further away from the mopey kid he had been when he first moved to Cape Cod. Despite his baggage, he was finding his place here, and you were grateful to have been one of the first people he’d had to help him make the transition.

“Ready to go do some rides?” you asked, biting your lip excitedly.

He groaned loudly, holding his stomach. “Now that you conned me into eating all that shit? Are you serious?” he laughed. “Let’s do some games first.”

You pouted, but agreed. You got up to throw away the garbage and he followed after you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you against his side. “You look good in my jacket, girlfriend,” he teased. You punched him in the shoulder, making him laugh. You laughed too, shaking your head at him.

The sun had almost set and the sky was stunning, especially with all the carnival lights twinkling against it. You suddenly felt Danny’s arm tighten around you. “Shit, there she is.”

You looked up, quickly looking away when you spotted the blonde already looking right at you. Danny sped up a bit, walking you up to a ring toss game. “Laugh at something I just told you,” he whispered in your ear. You played along, letting your head fall back as you giggled. You quickly realized that McKayla and her friends had gotten in line a few people behind you and Danny, making your heart rate speed up. You’d never spoken to her, but her reputation well preceded her. Danny grabbed a ring, turning to flex for you. You resisted the urge to mock him, letting out more girlish giggles.

“Just throw it, babe,” you laughed, the pet name feeling foreign on your tongue. He smiled and tossed it, making it the first try.

You threw yours too, but missed by a long shot. You both got three turns, all filled with unnecessary touching and flirting that made your cheeks glow. He’d won a teddy bear that he promptly placed in your arms, planting a sweet kiss to your cheek. You couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped you. He tugged you away from the front of the line, though you felt more like you were floating along behind him.

“That was perfect! I don't think she looked away once!” he enthused once you were both out of earshot.

You felt a sick feeling settle in your stomach, but quickly nodded and smiled. “She looked pretty mad,” you said, though you hadn’t really looked.

“Seriously? Oh my god,” he chuckled. “I haven’t felt this excited about someone in so long, Y/N. She drives me crazy.”

Ouch.

You cleared your throat, looking away a bit. “Gross,” you replied flatly, giving in a bit of a look.

He just laughed, nudging you with his elbow. “Let’s go see if we can find some more lines to stand in near her.”

Your chest ached. You wanted to yell and scream at him and tell him how stupid he was being. You didn’t know McKayla, but you knew no one could feel the way that you did about Danny. Even so, you forced a smile and allowed him to pull you around the carnival by your hand.

After searching for about 15 minutes, you spotted one of your favorite rides. “Danny, pleeaassee. I love the Gravitron; it’s been my favorite since I was little! Can we go, please, please, please?” you pleaded, sticking your bottom lip out at him.

He looked around for a moment before replying. “Yeah, I guess we can real quick.”

“Yesssss!” It was your turn to pull him through the crowd to the line climbing into the UFO-shaped ride. It was hot inside the enclosed ride and music was playing loudly, just like it was every year. You and Danny found two spots next to each other and leaned back, waiting for the ride to start.

“If I puke on your shoes, it’s your own fault,” he warned, turning his head to look at you. The dim lighting accentuated his freckled cheeks and warm eyes in a way that made your breath catch. Before you could respond, the doors were closed and the ride began to spin. You couldn’t stop grinning as dizziness turned into the delightful press of centrifugal force pushing you up the wall. You squealed as Danny grabbed your arm in panic as his own seat hit the top. With a bit of effort, you were able to turn your head to look at him and catch the expression on his face before you burst into laughter. His cheek was smushed against the seat and his eyes were squeezed closed as he fought to keep his dinner down.

“Watch this!” you called over the music. He squinted his eyes open just barely to watch as you flipped yourself sideways, your legs draped over his center.

“You’re fucking crazy!” he laughed, seeming to be getting slowly used to the feeling. You flipped yourself back upright, feeling your head spin from the movement.

“You try!” You watched as he tried to outstretch his arm, but was quickly overcome by the force, his arm falling across your chest with his open palm cupping your boob. His eyes turned to saucers and he quickly pulled away. Laughter bubbled up from your stomach as you began to belly laugh at his awkwardness.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he laughed nervously, squeezing his eyes shut in embarrassment. You could see his blushed cheeks even through your watering eyes.

“It’s okay,” you giggled. “Guess it’s a good thing I’m your girlfriend tonight.”

You both stumbled out of the ride, Danny looking a bit green around the gills. It was dark now and the light show of carnie lights was in full effect, the ferris wheel acting as its feature. You couldn’t help but stop and take it all in. However, your thoughts were quickly interrupted.

“Hey, you feeling okay?” Danny asked softly, his hand resting on your shoulder. You smiled, nodding. “Okay, cool. I was thinking we could hop on the ferris wheel next so I can try and see where she went.”

How many times would you forget that that was the only reason he was here with you? You weren’t sure how much more you could take. “Yeah, lets go.”

His head was on a swivel the whole way, making you feel terribly alone despite his cold fingers tangled with yours.

Once you made it through the line, you climbed in across from each other in the small car, your knees bumping. You made your ascent slowly as they loaded the other passengers. For the first time that night, the silence between you felt heavy. You pulled his jacket a bit tighter around yourself, looking at him even though you knew he was looking everywhere but at you.

“God, I can’t see her anywhere now. Can you?” he asked, his brow furrow as he squinted at the ground.

“Danny, what the hell are you even looking for?” You even were a bit surprised at your sudden snap. But the words were already out of your mouth, hanging in the air between you.

He looked up at you, confusion written on his face. “Y/N, what do you mean? You know who I’m looking for.”

“I said what. Like, you’re at the top of the Ferris wheel with the most beautiful view of Cape Cod that you only get once a year, and you are busy looking at the ground for some blonde.”

“Some blonde? Where is all this coming from? Did you not come here to help me get her attention?”

Frustration ran through you as your voice rose. “For god’s sake! Can you really not see what’s right in front of you? Are you that unaware?” you cried incredulously.

“Yes, I see the fair. The lights are beautiful but-“

You cut him off, fisting his shirt and smashing your lips against his. He tensed initially, shocked by your brash action. However, suddenly all your words clicked into place in his head. His hand found the side of your face, kissing you back tenderly.

Fireworks.

It was more than you had ever imagined. His chapped lips gently pulled away from yours, his eyes fretting over your face.”Y-you meant you. Didn’t you?” he stuttered.

You let out a breathless laugh, leaning into his hand that was still pressed against your cheek. “Yes, you idiot.”

He leaned in slowly, awkward now in a way that made your heart flutter. You met him in the middle, kissing him again as you sat at the top of the ferris wheel; it felt too perfect to be real. Your hands let go of his shirt and slipped behind his neck to toy with the curls on his nape as you kissed him for all you were worth.

When you finally pulled apart, he was smiling like a fool, his cheeks pinker than you’d ever seen. “When d-did you..? How-“

“Not right away, but somewhere in the middle. Well before McKayla, but definitely confirmed once you started talking about her all the time.” It felt good to finally tell him all these things after so long.

“You were jealous,” he smirked, that signature smirk.

You pushed your palm to his face, pushing him away playfully. “Danny Middleton, so help me god-“

“I want you to be my girlfriend.” You stopped what you were doing, meeting his gaze. He was looking at you with a look you hadn’t seen before. He looked down, suddenly shy. “I-I mean will you- will you be my girlfriend?”

“I’ll think about it.”

[elevenharringtons]

Babysitting El pt. 1

Pairing: None (but leading into a bit of Steve x Reader) 

Summary: Hopper, exasperated by having to deal with monsters invading Hawkins and having a teenage girl, has asked you to come babysit while he investigates for the night. Max shows up (unannounced, to you at least) and proposes a mall day to cheer everyone up. However, things don’t go as planned, and you find yourself an accomplice to Mike and El’s breakup. 

Warnings: Profanity

Word Count: 3.3k

This is a two-parter! This part is based on El and Max’s shopping trip. It’s not exact, considering El was the one to seek Max out, but nonetheless, you’ll read some familiar scenarios. Just some good ol’ girl time and bonding over stupid boys. Part Two should be out sooner rather than later, considering all the time that has suddenly found itself on my doorstep. Stay safe out there, y’all. 

***UPDATE: There will be a taglist for the second part, so if you’d like to be on it, let me know! 

“I’ll be there.”

“If that Wheeler kid shows up here one more time-“

“Calm down! She’s a young woman now, she’s doing what she’s supposed to be doing” you say, twirling the yellowed telephone cable between your fingers. This is the third time this week that your uncle has called you upset that El was dating the second youngest Wheeler. Hopper hadn’t necessarily been on good terms with Mike, considering he found ways around Hopper’s rules, especially rules that were crafted for Eleven’s safety. Grumbling ensues on the other line.

“What time are you going to be here?”

“8 o’clock,” you reply almost confidently.

“Sharp?”

“8 o’clock...ish?” Hopper was good at seeing through your facades. Your mother was a pro at being fashionably late to things, a habit that you’re not too happy that you picked up. “You know it takes at least 15 minutes to get back to Hawkins, and then at least another 20 to remember which turn into the woods I have to take to find your cabin-“

“Save it. Just...promise me you’ll take care of this?” Hopper pleaded. You could hear someone rapping on the door in the background and assumed it was Mike trying to get back in to see El.

“I’ll do what I can. Bye, Uncle Hop.” You hear indistinct chatter on the line before it cuts to a dial tone and chuckle to yourself, continuing to pack a small overnight bag full of clothes and other essentials needed to ‘babysit’ Eleven. Hopper had to deal with a special assignment that you had specifically chosen not to ask him about, knowing it must be a continuation of the strange events that kept happening in Hawkins the past two years. Your mission was to stay with El until Hopper returned, however, now that El was a teenager, that was no easy task. Boys, best friends, and fighting intergalactic monsters had El in more directions than you remember when you were her age. Then again, you didn’t have to deal with the intergalactic monster part.

The morning drive wasn’t as bad as you thought it was going to be. Surprisingly, you remembered exactly where to turn into the woods to find Hopper’s cabin. The ground was wet from a rain storm the night before as you tried your best to maneuver your mom’s old Buick through the slippery terrain. El was standing outside on Hopper’s porch, her eyes lighting up for a quick second before diminishing again. She turned and headed back inside the cabin before you had the chance to get out of the car. Hopper met you at the door.

“What’s her deal?” You ask, closing the car door and moving to the trunk to grab your backpack.

“I, uh, may have had a hand in that,” Hopper replied.

“What’d you do”

“Joyce told me to have a talk with her and Mike, but instead, I told Mike that his grandmother was sick and that he should go be with her instead of with El,” Hopper couldn’t meet your stare. You laughed out loud.

“Seriously, Uncle Hop?”

“She doesn’t know!”

“And what made you think that was a good idea? What advice did Joyce give you that made you do that? Couldn’t have been that bad, it’s Joyce!” You’re leaning against the car door, arms crossed over your chest. You weren’t letting your uncle off that easy before he left you with a moody teenager.

“She just said to set some ground rules, to talk to them,”

“The three inch rule?” You quip.

“Well, El doesn’t always adhere to the three inch rule, that’s why I had to do something about it,” Hopper replied.

“So telling Mike Wheeler that his grandmother was sick even though she isn’t is how you’re handling this?”

“Why do you think you’re here?”

“Oh, so I’m the diffusion? She needs to be a teenager, Uncle Hop! Explore! Kiss a guy! Kiss a girl if she wants to! Fall in love! Get her heart broken! You were a teenager once, weren’t you?” You say. Out of the corner of your eye, El reappeared on the porch.

“Y/N?”

“Hi, El!” You smile and wave as El does the same. Hopper runs his hand over his face before leading you to the cabin. He grumbles under his breath as you walk.

“Look, just make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid. No one can find her out here, it’s dangerous.”

“I’ve got it under control, Hopper. She won’t leave my sight,” You assure him as you walk up the stairs to wrap El in a hug. Hopper watched as the both of you headed inside the cabin before starting his truck up and driving away.

“So, Hopper has you on some…guidelines, huh?” You say once the door is closed, taking in the cabin. It wasn’t as messy as you would have guessed it to be, definitely not like the lake house that you had practically grown up in. You put your bag down on Hopper’s armchair before leaning against the couch, watching El as she paced around.

“Guidelines?” She asked.

“Oh, um, rules. Like how he won’t let you out past a certain hour?”

“Or how he doesn’t let Mike over,” El nervously played with her hands. She was still pacing, clearly worried that Mike had abandoned her.

“Hey,” you say softly. “He doesn’t hate Mike, you know? He just…isn’t ready for you to grow up yet.” El was trying to take in what you were saying, but a knock was at the door causing the both of you to jump. El looks to you for permission to open the door, which you grant. She gets up and crosses to the door, standing on tip toes to peer into the peephole.

“It’s Max,” El says, almost disappointed.

“You can let her in,” you say. The door swings open to reveal the fiery red head, who doesn’t stay outside long.

“Lucas dropped all of our plans today for some family thing he forgot last minute,” she says. “So I told him that we were on a break.”

“A break?” El asks.

“Yeah. Like not a break up but you want to break up? Kind of?” Max says. You stare wide eyed at the two of them.

“I’m sorry, you told Lucas you wanted to take a break because he had to do something with his family?” You ask.

“Look, he pulls this last minute shit all the time. He’s probably at home playing with his stupid walkie talkie or at Mike’s. It’s better to take a minute to show him that I’m mad by taking a break than to dump his ass altogether,” she plops herself into Hopper’s armchair and right on top of your stuff without missing a beat. El sits stiffly beside you on the couch.

“Mike’s grandmother is sick, so he’s probably not at Mike’s,” you say, trying to go along with Hopper’s false narrative as truthfully as you could. Max rolls her eyes.

“Sounds like some last minute bullshit to me.”

“Last minute,” El says thoughtfully. “Mike didn’t call this morning.”

“Then dump his ass,” Max says matter-of-factly. “He keeps you on the line way too much for you to keep putting up with that.”

“I don’t think it’s Mike’s fault,” you say under your breath. Max doesn’t hear you.

“Dump his ass?” El questions.

“He’s obviously hiding something from you. Don’t put up with it,” Max shrugs.

“Nobody’s dumping anyone. Look, you can’t just break someone’s heart because they can’t do something with you,” you say. You may not have a lot of experience in the dating department,  but you also could recognize human mistakes from lies. Plus, you had your uncle’s fake storyline standing over your shoulder, so it was best that El not make any hasty decisions.

“I’m just saying, El, you could do a lot better,” Max says. “In the meantime, though, we should give you a makeover and show him what he’s missing. Let’s go to the mall!”

“Whoa, El’s not allowed out. You know that,” you say, standing now between El and Max’s line of vision.

“Hopper’s not here is he? Plus, you’re here. Nothing bad can happen if you’re with us,” Max retorts. She had a point. Having an adult around two teenagers in a mall cramped their style, automatically making them less of a target to the bad guys. Right?

“Technically, I’m not supposed to have you here,” you reply. Max rolled her eyes.

“Y/N, can we please go to the mall?” El asks. Her shimmering brown eyes are enough to make you cave. She knew just how to push your buttons.

“Fine,” you say, “but you guys can’t leave my sight.”

“Deal,” Max and El say together as they race outside to your car.

“I said don’t leave my sight!” You yell, running after them. How bad could this be?

**********

Two hours later and you’ve become the stereotypical pack-mule “boyfriend” to your two teenaged counterparts. Max had insisted El buy a new wardrobe to make Mike jealous, so her muddied shoes and ragged plaid shirt were stuffed in a tiny bag from The Gap while Max made El try on several brightly colored combos. Then, El wanted Glamour Shots, so you watched as her and Max put on oversized pearls and lavish feathered hats, posing ridiculously for the camera. You’d bought each of them a keychain sized version of their favorite picture, adding another bag to your hand. Max had careened into JC Penney without your knowledge, taking El with her through the winding racks of aerobics wear and puffy jacket vests. You managed to find them, though, because Max was trying on bright red sunglasses in the mirrors right next to the entrance.

“What did I tell you about running off?” You say. Before Max could protest, El had walked out in a black romper with neon shapes plastered all over it. She was stumbling around on two inch heels, her stark white socks making it obvious that she’d never worn anything else besides sneakers. However, the smile on her face distracted you from the fact that she could fall and break her ankle at any moment. She stopped to pose in the mirror before turning to you.

“What do you think, Y/N?”

“I think it’s a winner. You look beautiful, El,” you say, her grin growing wider. Chastising them for running off could be saved until later. Or until something actually~ happened.

“That’ll show those stupid boys not to mess with you!” Max exclaimed.

“Maybe not in those heels, though,” you say, choosing to ignore Max’s comment. Not that you were doubling back on your whole “give Mike another chance” mantra, just that you didn’t want to ruin El’s confidence. You motion for Max to help you get the heels off of El before slipping her new Nikes back on her feet.

“Can I wear this out instead?” El asks.

“And ditch those cute yellow suspenders?” You quip.

“Come on, Y/N!” Max joined in. “What’s another bag? Another swipe of the old Visa?”

“This is the last time I bring you out shopping,” you sigh, watching as the two girls squealed, jumping up and down like they were front row at a concert. Max agrees to gather El’s other outfit from the dressing room while you take El to the register to pay. Then, you’re off again into the bustle of the Starcourt Mall. As you’re walking out, though, you spy Mike and Lucas, along with Will Byers, stepping out of a jewelry store in a heated discussion. Max and El giggled beside you, blissfully unaware that you had just caught both of their “men” doing the exact opposite of what they should be. You silently curse Mike for being this stupid. You careen then girls onto the down escalator.

“Where are we going?” Max asks.

“I saw a food court downstairs. Figured we’d go refuel for a little bit,” you say, not entirely sure the girls would fall for it.

“Oooo, can we get ice cream?” Max replied.

Mission accomplished.

That was until you had taken your eye off them for two seconds after looking at the time on the big yellow clock in the center of the food court. Max had taken El by the hand and bounded down the escalator, into the sailor themed eatery, Scoops Ahoy. You pushed through a group of teenagers balancing ice cream cones, finding the two girls receiving ice cream from a brunette boy in a ridiculous bright blue uniform. You couldn’t shake the familiarity of his face, like something you had seen in dreams. It wasn’t until you were inside of the shop, shivering from the slight temperature change, and smelling the sweetness of the treats before the name had come to you.

“Thanks, Steve!” Max said as she and El grabbed a strawberry and vanilla cone from the boy’s hands, blissfully unaware of your presence as they enjoyed their treats.

Steve Harrington. A name you hadn’t heard since you were in grade school. You remember him being the troublemaker, the one who had stolen your new pack of crayons when you weren’t looking and the one who was every teacher’s nightmare. But you also remembered him being the sweetheart. The boy who stood up for you when Tommy H was making fun of your bangs in second grade. The boy who tried to kiss you on the cheek by the swings when no one was looking. The last time you saw Steve Harrington was when your parents’ moving van was careening carefully down Main Street as you all were moving cities once you completed fifth grade. Steve was riding his bike, stopping in front of Melvald’s General Store before locking it to a rack and walking inside. Since then, Steve had become a memory, someone who would appear every once in a while as a nameless face in a dream.

You stood speechless at the counter, his back turned to you as he cleaned the ice cream scoops before meeting his next customer. There was no way he was going to remember you, your mind was racing. Years of never even thinking of him and here you were a nervous wreck. And for what? Shaking thoughts from your head, you reached into your bag to pull out three dollars for the girls’ dessert. The sound of change clanging on the counter caused him to turn. Shit.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. They come here all the time.”

You looked up to meet his brown eyes, hands still nervously reaching for the change that had fallen out of your hands. You watched as something in his mind clicked.

“Y/N?”

“That’s me,” you reply, shoving the money back into your bag, trying to avoid an awkward conversation that probably neither of you wanted. “Sorry that they ran in here like that.”

“Jesus, how long has it been? What brings you to town?” Guess he wanted an awkward conversation.

“Oh, my uncle, he, uh, wanted me to come watch El for him while he figures out…you know, normal Hawkins police stuff.” God, why are you like this??

“How long are you here?” Steve asked, catching you completely off guard.

“I mean, I only packed an overnight bag,” you say.

“Oh, cool,” Steve replies. The spark that was in his eyes when you’d first connected had vanished.

“But, uh, Hopper never said when he was coming back, so, maybe the weekend?” You tell him, watching the corner of his mouth curl into a smile.

“Would you maybe want to catch up sometime? Like, tonight after I get off?” Steve asks. You could feel your cheeks getting hot. It was your turn to smile now. Instinct struck, though, as you turned away from him and noticed El and Max were gone from the place that they were sitting not too long ago.

“Uh, yeah, sure. I have to…go. Because the girls are…yeah. I’ll come here tonight,” you ramble as you rush out the front towards the escalator.

“See you…later,” Steve called after you. You waved a hand as you bounded up the escalator past several angry mall-goers. You couldn’t even process that you were having a “date” with someone that you hadn’t seen since elementary school, someone that you subconsciously always thought about. If you couldn’t find El, though, it would be your ass. You could already hear Hopper yelling at you at length over the phone when you spot Max’s slender frame standing out front with a melting ice cream cone in her hand. She was watching something, hopefully something to do with El, but you couldn’t figure out why Max wasn’t standing right next to El. Then it hit you.

El found Mike.

You pushed through the front door as quietly as one could push through a heavy glass door. Max’s expression went from supportive to nervous wreck once she had laid eyes on you. The “why did you run out of my sight you dumb idiots” conversation could wait a few minutes. You heard Mike trying to come up with a good excuse as to why he was out at the mall with his friends when El’s quiet voice cut through the palpable tension.

“I dump your ass.”

Max chuckled, mouth agape in surprise. You tried to keep your composure, especially considering you had told the girls not to just dump the boys over “nothing”, but you were proud of El for sticking up for herself. Mike, Lucas, and Will were stoic as El turned dramatically, hair bouncing, arm linking with Max. You heard the boys mumble to themselves as you ushered the girls away from the mall and into your car. In the rearview mirror, you watched as Max gave El a high five, offering to switch ice cream cones with her.

“Don’t think I haven’t forgot that you all ran away from me,” you half-smile. Their faces fell. “I’m not mad.” You scramble to say, just to bring that little bit of happiness back to them.

“Look, we got ice cream and then caught two lying ass boys. It’s not our fault that we fell behind flirting with the sailor boy,” Max said under her breath, taking a bite of El’s ice cream. Your cheeks grew hotter than they were in Scoops Ahoy.

“I wasn’t flirting…”

“Oh, please, I had to sit through weeks of watching El flirt with Mike. I think I know what flirting is,” Max said.

“How did you even-“

“We were sitting in a booth practically behind you. Then El saw Mike and I had to chase after her. You’re welcome, by the way. I should get some of the money that Hopper is giving you for watching her.”

“First of all, I’m not getting paid. Second, thanks, I guess?” You shake your head. “Plus, my love life is not something we should be discussing right now. Didn’t you both just dump your boyfriends?”

“Boys are stupid,” El said matter-of-factly. She wasn’t wrong. Max gave El another high five as they switched ice cream cones again.

“So are you going on a date with Harrington or not?” Max asked.

“Yes, but-“

“Great! I’ll spend the night, and El and I will help you get ready,” she said. El nodded in response, too enticed by her ice cream to give verbal recognition.

“I thought you were against boys?” By now, you had turned down the pathway to Hopper’s cabin. You put the car in park, turning to look at the two girls in the back seat.

“Those boys. Helping you nab Harrington is a different story.” Max said, grabbing her JC Penney bag and bounding out of the car. You helped El carry all of her belongings into the cabin before plopping it into Hopper’s armchair.

“Makeover?” El asked once everyone was inside and settled.

“Oh, yeah,” Max replied. They each took your hands and led you to the bathroom.

What were you about to get into?

[long-bodyswap]

Projection

Man, I fuckin’ loved taking control of my son; he has a hot little body, sculpted but not too muscular, a baby face, and I got to try on all the cute clothes that I bought for ‘him’. I chuckled to myself, my son Jeremy, was totally straight, and he’s quite popular with the ladies, but I had my eye more on his hot little stud friends that he hung out with. I could especially see how his ‘little’ friend Hank fuckin’ drooled over him; practically falling over himself to jump to do whatever Jeremy wanted. But I’m side-tracking a bit; I bought tons of cute underwear and other… kinkier stuff for Jeremy but as I previously mentioned, being the straight kid he was, he’d never wear any of it; he’d probably be appalled if he even knew I bought it for him… Too bad he doesn’t know he wears this shit regularly and is quite popular at the local gay clubs. All the bartenders know him quite well; or should I say they know ‘Matt’ well? That’s the name I go by when I slip into his hot little body and go out. ----------------------------------------------------------------- It happened one night when I’d come home late from work and I was extra exhausted, I barely took loosened my tie and dropped my suitcase at the door when I plopped in front of the tv on couch; too tired to even move. I began to drift off when I remembered that I still had to feed Jeremy, he’d be getting home from soccer practice soon, but I just couldn’t bring myself to move; in fact, I felt almost… paralyzed. I began to freak out and struggled to move and I fought to sit up; and with a sudden ‘pop’ I finally managed to do it. I decided I’d better change into some more casual clothes, and I made my way up the stairs and to my room. My closet was slightly ajar so I just stepped right in and casually glanced around looking for something more comfortable to wear; my eyes caught the underwear I’d boughten but were too small for me. I let out a sigh, I knew I wasn’t in as great of shape as I used to be and I could never fit those. I finally decided on some sweat pants and a plain white T but as I tried to pick them up my hands went right through! I rubbed my eyes, this couldn’t be right, I tried again and started panicking when my hands passed right through again! Even stranger, I was naked! I got really embarrassed and ran around the house trying to figure out what was happening. I arrived back at the living room again and I tried to scream; I could see my body still lying there. I didn’t know what to do, I just sat on the ground and repeated “This can’t be happening” over and over to myself. I looked at my body again and I noticed it was still breathing. This had to be a dream, I knew I was still alive if my body was still breathing… So what was going on? My thoughts were interrupted when I heard the front door open and close. “Hey Dad! I’m home!” Shit. Jeremy was here, and I didn’t know what to do. I wondered if maybe he could hear me. I walked to the entry way “Jeremy?” I let out a call, he didn’t seem to notice as he continued removing his shoes before walking upstairs to the bathroom—He always had a shower after practice. I followed and tried knocking on the door but my hand just passed through again. I heard the water start running and I began to wonder if maybe I could leave a message on the mirror from the fog or something like in the movies. I felt a bit weird because I knew I’d see my son naked, but after changing his diapers so many times as a baby, I figured it was fine as it was nothing I’d never seen before, so I walked through the door and began to wait for the steam to gather. I tried my hardest to keep from looking, but I got bored waiting for the steam. I finally just looked over and I became so envious; he still had a tight little stomach, his arms were sculpted, and he still had all his hair… A hand instinctively ran to my head, rubbing longingly at where my hair used to be. I wished I could go back to my prime, back to Jeremy’s age. I continued watching and forgot all about what I was doing when Jeremy stepped out and walked to his room. Shit! I missed my chance, I followed him hoping to find something else to catch his attention but he just lay on his bed and fell asleep. He must have been exhausted because after a few seconds he fell asleep and I could see his chest rising slowly, and falling gently. He looked so innocent, I was so proud of him, he always worked so hard in school, and he won a lot of sports trophies, he was such a good boy… I never noticed before, but I could see his aura a lot more relaxed, moving at a slower pace; A sly smirk crept across my face as I got an idea… I walked over to his bed and slowly laid down on top of him, I could feel his body give in, as it started to pull me in, the feeling of his flesh wrapping around my essence was so erotic, I wasn’t completely in but I managed to let out a moan from my new vocal chords. Fuck that was hot. I felt myself falling more and more into him before finally I was completely in. I let out a gasp. I looked down and saw… abs? And my body felt so tight… I felt my hair tussle and I ran a hand through my hair… Oh how I missed having hair… I sat up, “Wow…” apparently I was really excited being in this body because Jeremy’s cock was so fucking hard! Damn! Even in my prime I was never that thick! And it was so long! I bit my lip, and he still had his foreskin… I couldn’t… could I? Would this be wrong to do this with my own son’s body? I mean, it’s basically masturbation, since I was in control… Damn… all these hormones… I couldn’t fight it as I finally gripped my new rod; I shuddered, I barely even rubbed and this felt so fucking awesome! I tried to rub it up and down slowly, but the pleasure, I was vibrating in pleasure, a gentle purr escaping my lips, damn, this fucking foreskin… It was so sensitive… Suddenly this body’s instincts took control and damn… I was in for a fuckin’ wild ride, this body was working its shaft like a pro, I started to moan, I bit my lip to try to keep from being too loud, but then I started using my other hand to feel this body’s muscles and this was so erotic, my moans began to increase in volume, I finally said fuck it and I was moaning so loud, fuck… fuck… I was about to cum, I didn’t want this to end but this body’s instincts were still in control as it kept rubbing and I pinched my nipples a bit, I fought as hard as I could to keep from cumming but with how sensitive my new package was it was a losing battle as with one final rub I let out one long, deep, moan, as load after load began shooting out. I tried to catch as much as I could, not wanting to leave a huge mess. Jeremy didn’t have any tissues in his room and I didn’t want to dirty any of his clothing so, shrugging my shoulders, I raised it to my lips and lapped it up, playing with his cum in my mouth… Damn that was delicious… I licked up the rest off my hands then lay there basking in my wonderful afterglow of orgasm rubbing my softening cock, I closed my eyes and looked up at the ceiling, damn I wish this never had to end… Jeremy’s body began violently spasming; I could feel him waking up, I was being pushed out, I fought so hard to stay in, but with one final shake I was thrown out, I felt his flesh un-envelop me. Jeremy had a look of shock on his face, when I was thrown out I was still licking some of the cum off his fingers, he removed his finger from his mouth and he could see the cum on his finger I saw a look of disgust cross his face… I could also see a bit of cum I’d missed on his chest… Fuck I wanted back in so bad… I slammed against him, I felt his body release for a moment as some of my soul pushed through but it was thrown back out. He looked like he was just punched, the color drained from his face as he sat down before falling over and passed out. I smirked, I figured I must only be able to be inside when he’s sleeping; when his consciousness is dormant. I laid on top of his body again and I shuddered as I felt that familiar feeling of that tight body welcoming me in again. I grabbed a towel and wiped off then I remembered that underwear... I went to my room and grabbed that underwear and through it on… I gasped while a cheeky grin crept across my face. The material was so nice… I could feel my cock stiffen a bit but I wanted to take go find a mirror. I found one in the dining room (I had to walk passed my sleeping body, I smirked, definitely an upgrade as I could see my love handles through my suit, and I was disgusted at the bald patch. I looked in the mirror, strange… Jeremy never looked this groggy, and he had a moustache… He never had a moustache. He despised body hair and kept himself shaven, strange… Apparently even though it’s his skin, my essence still shows through a bit as my body did wear a moustache… I tried a few poses in the mirror; fuck Jeremy was hot… I wanted a few photos and I remembered my phone, it was in my pocket on the couch. I walked back in, disgusted at seeing my body, I reached into my pocket with disdain, feeling around for my phone, and I accidentally rubbed my package, I jumped. Even though I wasn’t in that body I still felt it, but it felt like someone else doing it… I found my phone and went and took a few photos… When I finished I set my phone down on the table beside my body, I remembered the feeling when I was looking for my phone; I shuddered again. A devilish grin crept across my face… I couldn’t… could I? I climbed on top of my body and began grinding my package, I could feel myself; or my body anyways, hardening, this only turned me on more as I grabbed my hands and ran them across this body, grinding our dicks against each other’s, I leaned down and sucked my ears the way I liked, fuck this was so hot, my happiness began showing in Jeremy’s body too as it was now sporting a massive erection, but I didn’t care, I was more worried about masturbating my old self, I began to pick up the pace in grinding and not being totally in my own body, I could still tell it was going to cum soon but I couldn’t stop it, and with one final thrust against my own package I felt it; that glorious orgasm… I could feel the cum seeping through my clothes, and this cute little underwear, I could feel it against my dick… I moaned, this was so erotic…Jeremy woke up and I was flung out of his body again but being so close to my own I was pulled right back in, I took a deep breath in and I saw the look of shock and horror on his face and he could see his own hands were guiding mine across his chest muscles, and I could still feel that he had an erection. “Son…? What’s going on? Are you okay?” I said feigning concern, knowing full well what had happened. “N-nothing, can we just… pretend I wasn’t doing this?” “Sure thing bud, I’ll go cook dinner.” “O….k..” He sputtered out slowly. He began walking towards his room and as I watched him walk away, I remembered the wonderful feeling of his cock and I was wanting to touch it again and I saw him stop in his tracks and his hand went for his package and gently rubbed it through the underwear. I was surprised… Maybe some of me had stayed inside his body? I made him go get changed (I decided to just order pizza), then I had him replace the underwear where I’d kept it, then after he had put on his actual clothes, I decided to see how far my powers would go as I decided to try to alter his memories. I could feel his eyes rolling back in his head as I was tweaking around in there, I changed his memories to that he took a nap, then he’d worked on a bit of homework then he’d gotten dressed and he remembered me calling out that we were having pizza. Then with one final tweak, I made it so that he would fall asleep whenever I said a code word to him…. Oh the things I had planned with this new ability of mine….

[ardenskyedarcy221b]

autumn leaves and apple cider

Peter yawns. His fists rub his eyes hard enough to see black stars. Eventually he blinks hard enough that he can see the time projected on his ceiling: 7:33. He grunts. Mental math tells him he’s slept a little over two hours since last time he checked the time. He shoves off his comforter, whines at the blast of cold, and rolls out of bed. 

He pads into the hallway in search of his father. 

Kitchen is empty. Couch in the family room is unoccupied. His brow furrows as Peter shuffles toward the back porch. Now, if his dad can’t be found inside the house, Peter can always find him somewhere outside. It has been a weird transition not automatically finding Tony Stark inside a laboratory, but time is on Peter’s side now. 

Only the back porch is vacant and worry settles heavily in Peter’s stomach. 

“Front porch?” he asks himself under his breath as he cuts through the cabin. If anxiety wasn’t pressing right at his edges, Peter could have stretched out his hearing and listened for his father’s heartbeat; however, as he is preoccupied, Peter walks out onto the front porch to the sight of thick fog cloaking the earth and no sign of his father. 

He isn’t sure what compels him onward: Peter tromps down the steps and his socks immediately soak up grass’s moisture as he ambles toward the dock. A violent shiver traverses his spinal column so Peter tucks his fingers underneath his armpits. 

Fog density is high, causing Peter to rely on muscle memory. Gentle waves lapping guides him along as well. He squints as if his advanced eyesight could cut through fall’s veil: it can’t. Leaves crunch beneath his feet. His toes keep finding holes or rocks to trip over. Perhaps in the end his advanced eyesight does assist him because up ahead his sees a figure at the end of the dock, barely even a silhouette, though it’s enough to tip Peter off that he found his father. 

“Dad?” 

Figure turns and a familiar baritone croaks out, “Pete?” 

Relieved to have found his father, Peter closes the distance between him and the figure at the end of the dock as quickly as he dares. A hand grasps at Peter’s forearm and curls into his hoodie material. 

“What are you doing out here?” he asks, not bothering to hide his confusion. 

“No reason,” is the first reply then his father sighs a laugh and finishes, “dunno, really, other than I just wanted to be by the water.” 

Peter shrugs off the answer. 

Father and son stand side by side, listening to the lake lap and birds tweet good morning hellos, until another chill steels over Peter. Then he burrows into his father’s side, maneuvering his arms around him until Peter is satisfied. He hums. 

“Cold?” 

He makes a noise at the back of his throat, too lazy to verbalize. 

“What, my hoodie not cutting it for you anymore?” his dad keeps pressing, a hint of his amusement breaking into his tone. “I speak from experience when I say I know that hoodie is warm.” 

“S’not yours, s’mine,” he muffles his words into his father’s side. “And my toes are cold.” 

“Your toes are—” Tony cuts off and then exclaims, “Why the hell are you outside without your shoes? Get back inside!” he gives Peter a little push. 

Peter giggles, stumbling but not moving away. He may have stuck himself to his father’s side using his spidery stickiness. 

Then his dad’s fingers wiggle like he’s going to tickle Peter and he shrieks, unsticks himself and bolts for the cabin. His father’s deep chuckles follow behind him at a sedated pace. He has no time to feel embarrassment for the ploy because Peter loathes being tickled, especially thanks to his enhanced sensitivity after the spider bite. Any time his dad or sister do not get their way, they have the tendency to exploit Peter’s weakness. 

Not fair, he pouts as he opens the glass screen door. His smile won’t disappear, though. 

Peter trots back into his bedroom to shower. It is only a matter of time before the calm of the morning is broken by Morgan waking up. Last night Dad and Pepper promised the whole family would go pumpkin picking and Peter’s little sister lost her mind. When he first came back, snapped or blipped or whatever terminology is popular at the moment, Morgan’s exuberance was a bit much for Peter’s frayed nervous system. She weaseled her way into his heart, though. Eventually. 

He shakes the thoughts away and finishes getting ready. 

Dad and Pepper are making breakfast when Peter wanders back into the kitchen. 

“Pete!” his sister chirps, sporting a chocolate milk mustache.  “Come eat; we have places to be!”

Peter snorts as he finishes shuffling to his seat next to the young girl. “I didn’t realize we were leaving so early?” 

“We’re not,” his father snorts. 

Peter looks up to see his stepmother rolling her eyes and Peter smirks at her, both of them sharing a knowing expression. 

Morgan decides pestering is the way to go after finding out that they aren’t leaving until after lunch. All it does is keep her chattering and everyone else wishing away the morning. And she convinces Pepper they should have a picnic in the car so they can get to the pumpkin patch earlier. 

Halfway to their destination, Morgan turns to Peter and says, 

“Will you braid my hair?”

“Now?” 

“Mmhmm!”

Before Peter can positively or negatively reply, Morgan is already climbing out of her booster seat and crawling into his lap. Peter fumbles to assist her but she knocks away his hands until she settles herself. Her smile is pleased and she is definitely preening. 

“Mo—” he starts. 

“Morgan Hope, what are you doing out of your seat?” comes their father’s terse question as the man twists from the passenger seat to stare back at them. “Peter isn’t your lounge chair. Get back over there, little miss.” 

Morgan’s head tips back onto Peter’s chest. “But Daaaaad,” she whines, “Pete needs to braid my hair.” 

“I don’t care. He can do it when we get there.” 

“He’ll do it fast, I promise, ‘cuz I don’t wanna wait.”

“Oh, is that so?” 

Morgan turns away from their father and pokes Peter in the cheek. “Please, Petey, will you braid my hair?”

Peter’s gaze flits to Tony. His father acts unimpressed but his eyes twinkle in amusement. So he answers, “Sure. Do you have a band?”

Morgan slips two different colored purple cloth bands off her wrists and shoves them in his face. (He thinks that’s what they’re called; Morgan calls them ponytail holders, sometimes, and Pepper goes back and forth between ponytail holders and bands. He’s settled on bands to be done with it.)

He makes a face at her and turns her to sit forward. “The things I do for you,” he pretends to grumble. 

“The things I do for the both of you,” his father echoes from up front, correcting his posture. 

“I know.” his sister sing-songs. “It’s ‘cuz you love me!”

Because Morgan is queen-in-training when it comes to avoidance strategies, Peter is suckered into giving her twin braids. Then she wraps her arms around his neck and makes him strap her back into her booster seat. She kisses his cheek in thanks, though, so there are small consolation prizes. 

Forty minutes after leaving their lake house, they arrive at their destination. Morgan cheers and their parents share a smile upfront. On top of handling random hair crises in the middle of road trips, Peter’s job also entails making sure Morgan keeps her socks on and putting on a jacket. Both are rather monumental tasks considering Peter has enhanced strength and Morgan is barely pushing three-three in height; his sister is wily. However, seeing as how his sister hasn’t pestered with her yellow rain boots this entire time that leaves, 

“Jacket, Mo,” he hands over the pink lightweight jacket. 

“Don’t need it,” she scrunches up her nose and eyes the item with growing distain. “I’ve got my Iron Man sweater on; don’t need a jacket.” to prove her point, her hands disappear in the golden material of her sleeves and she shakes them in his direction with all the fanfare of an ornery five year old, “Seeeeeeee?”

“I’m not the boss.” 

“You’re ‘posed to be one of my bosses, so technically you are the boss.” 

“Too bad I’m always the boss and trump your brother then, hmm, little miss?” Tony interjects as he turns around in his seat, free of the safety belt’s restriction, snagging the jacket from Peter’s outstretched clutches and shaking it in his daughter’s direction. “No jacket means no hayride.” 

Despite herself, Morgan can’t think up a quick enough rebuttal. She rolls her shoulders back and lets out a dramatic huff of, “Fine.” Then yanks the material and carelessly shrugs into it. 

Pepper gets out of her seat and opens up Morgan’s door, opening up her arms in silent initiation to be held. 

Tony and Peter follow them out of the car. 

As they make their way into the bustling crowd, Morgan wiggles down from Pepper’s hip and spider-monkeys her way onto Peter’s back. She mostly attempts to hitch her free ride while Peter continues walking, screeching whenever he tries stopping to assist. Eventually, they somewhat compromise by Peter stopping and Morgan throwing herself onto his back, arms curled so tight around his neck Peter can almost accuse her of choking him.  She nestles in close then whispers, 

“Can we get some apple cider?” 

“Um,” he glances around in search of the requested beverage, curious to see where she spotted it before him. Right as he finds it, one of her fingers points and he says, “Sure, if Dad and Mom don’t care.” 

“Don’t care about what?” comes twin responses. 

“Morgan wants apple cider.” 

Pepper makes a face while Tony shrugs. 

“You already had chocolate milk today, lovebug.” 

Morgan scoffs into Peter’s neck. 

“One cup won’t hurt her,” Tony offers up. Then he semi-lowers his voice, “Bet you she won’t even like it.” 

Pepper rolls her eyes, though allows, “One cup.” 

So they wind up waiting in line to all grab hot apple cider. Several minutes pass of Morgan clinging to Peter and Pepper fussing and  Peter slowly edging closer to his father so Tony can keep making a grab for Morgan with his prosthetic arm only for the little girl to shriek. After they pay for their drinks, Pepper says they have to sit down to drink them. 

“But Moooom,” the little girl whines, eyes riveted on a tractor pulling a group of people sat in hay up the way, “I wanna go now.” 

“Guess we’ll have to wait for the next one.” 

Peter senses an impending meltdown. He blurts out, “Hey, Mo, watch this.” without giving much thought to his harebrained idea because his sister’s attention immediately redirects to him. 

And so Peter takes a huge gulp of hot apple cider, holds his cup out at arm’s length, and spits the drink out in an arc straight back into the cup. Mostly. Only, 

“Ow ow ow, crap! That is hot!” 

Pepper looks like she wants to reprimand him, but Morgan and Tony are too busy belly laughing at Peter’s folly, so his stepmother winds up grinning along. 

A different kind of warmth fills up his belly than the one lingering in his mouth. 

Sure enough, when the next hayride pulls around, the Starks get on it. Morgan remains glued to Peter’s side and demands to sit in his lap during the ride. Peter nods his agreement and picks a corner seat in the back, nestled in by hay. Dad presses in on Peter’s free side while Pepper takes the last seat. 

Excitement fills his bloodstream. As they take off for pumpkin pastures, Peter’s knees jostle Morgan around as his sister oohs and ahhs over the farm’s decorations. He doesn’t remember going on hayrides as a kid, though celebrating Christmas on a Malibu beach definitely makes up for it, in Peter’s humble opinion, he is embracing the experience. Like listening to Morgan sprouting out ideas of what they are going to carve their pumpkins when they get home, after spotting the first small lines of the orange spheres.

“I think I want Lord Voldemort’s face.” 

His dad snorts while Peter turns Morgan around to face him. 

“Why?”

“Why not?” she gives back. 

“Why not a cat?” 

“Because I don’t wanna paint it black; I wanna carve it!” 

Pepper tacks on, “You’re not handling anything sharp, I’m afraid.” though she doesn’t sound sorry in the slightest.

Morgan knocks her forehead into Peter’s clavicle at the devastating news. Peter thinks he hears her say this is why under her breath but he can’t be certain. 

Dad leans over to press a kiss against Peter’s temple and attempts to do the same to Morgan, but she’s having none of it. After a few more attempts, Peter hands her over all the same so Dad can drop kisses all over her rosy cheeks. Her giggles pitch over top the roar of the tractor. 

Pepper winds up pretending to save Morgan right as the tractor pulls to a stop. She stands up and shuffles off with Morgan, who continuously peeks over Mom’s shoulder to cross her eyes and stick her tongue out at Dad. Peter lists into his father’s side and Tony slings in arm over his shoulders, pulling him in close. 

Leaves crunch under their feet as they step off. 

“Daddy has to have the biggest one,” Peter hears his sister say somewhere up ahead. “Just ‘cuz. But I don’t get the smallest one, okay, Mommy?” 

“Mmm. Sounds reasonable. I suppose I’ll take the smallest one, how’s that sound?” is Pepper’s reply and Peter can imagine her smile pulling out her dimples. 

“C’mon, Daddy! C’mon, Pete!” hollers Morgan. “Let’s go pick our pumpkins!”

“You heard Miss Bossypants; chop chop, daylight’s wasting away,” nudges his father. 

Peter breathes in deeply and beams up at his father, his vision squinting as joy settles around them.

Autumn tastes like crisp air and hot apple cider; autumn is the warmth of his little sister wanting to show him everything that captures her attention; it’s watching his dad’s recovery in a positive light, seeing him walking around unassisted and smiling freely. 

Autumn is being with his family. 

AO3

[wistfulcynic]

The Parquet Man

Not long ago, on a Discord not far away, @thisonesatellite posed a simple question. “What is Captain Floor?” she asked. The answer... spiralled. And turned into crack fic ideas. One of which she wrote. And I DIED LAUGHING. 

When I came back to life it was as one inspired... to write the same story, from a different point of view. The result... well, Stephanie and I have always known we share a brain, but this may be the reason why the two halves were separated in the first place. 

@mariakov81 and @stahlop bear some responsibility as well. Particularly Maria, for EGGING THIS ON. 

I am going to tag @kmomof4 for REASONS and @darkcolinodonorgasm because I know you love Captain Floor. Also @snidgetsafan for helping me think of puns on perfect/parquet. And @teamhook and @thejollyroger-writer and @shireness-says and @resident-of-storybrooke JUST BECAUSE. 

AO3

Rating: T

Words: <3k

Part One, By @thisonesatellite

I am a gorgeous hardwood floor. People say that all the time. It’s the first thing I hear when people enter the apartment in which i make up the walking surface. Seriously. Everyone who comes in says, “Oh, what a gorgeous hardwood floor!” I’ve tried not to let it go to my head, especially since I technically do not have a head, but what’s a floor to do? When all you can do is lie there and be gorgeous. I mean, I’m not bad. I’m just laid that way. In intricate parquet inlays, thank you very much. I was a lot of work.

So anyway. The last family who occupied the apartment had two small children and a dog, and now some of my blocks are loose. It’s really no state for a decent floor to be in. I’m very happy they finally moved out. If the agent weren’t showing the apartment all day every day. And I really don’t mind hearing “Oh, what a gorgeous hardwood floor!” every hour on the hour, but seriously people, can you take your shoes off? It’s snowing outside! You are tracking slush across my beautiful finish, and I---

Oh. My. God. Wait a minute. Wait a goddamn minute. Who is this gorgeous specimen of a human male? AND WHY IS HE NOT COMMENTING ON MY BEAUTY?

I’m calm, I’m calm. I’m perfectly calm. But really, you would lose your varnish, too, if you had seen this dish of a man. Do people still say ‘dish’? I was laid 60 years ago, I don’t know from vernacular. Stop laughing.

That man is gorgeous. And not looking at me at all. He is flirting with the real estate agent in the loveliest accent, and now he’s all “Oh, lovely space, lots of light”-- yes, we have windows, it’s not the Eighth Wonder of the Ancient World! -- and admiring the wainscoting. Seriously? I’m right here in all my honey-colored hardwood glory! And now he’s walking around looking at the paneled ceiling and ---OOOF.

WOW. Hello there. He slipped in one of the puddles people have been tracking in here all day and has fallen face-first on top of me, and I think that counts as a genuine kiss. His lips touched my blocks.

I will never be the same.

Oh god - his eyes are so blue. He’s just so beautiful. And now he’s looking at me. I can hear the agent sputtering apologies in the background-- could you please shut it and give us a moment? “That’s a very nice floor.” Finally, he notices me. I just love his voice. Could you please stay--- oh, he’s getting up. Oh, the feeling of loss. I really hope he--- yes, that’s him saying he’ll take the apartment.

I’m in heaven.

-/-

His name is Killian and he’s been walking all over me for several months now. He takes his shoes off like a gentleman, although he did not put enough padding under the couch when he moved in, and I now have three scratches in the upper left hand corner. But that’s OK. They’re practically love bites. He wears nice soft socks, and sometimes he slides across me on his way to the couch, and let me tell you, that does things to a floor. Lovely things. I love him so much. Especially when he gets into the rum. Twice now he’s gotten drunk and slipped off the sofa and slept the night on top of me. I rearranged my blocks both times so he wouldn’t get edge imprints on his gorgeous face. I do have some mobility after all.

But recently a woman has been stopping by. Ugh. The first time seemed innocent enough - it seems she needed a screwdriver. Apparently she lives across the hall and had a loose cabinet. Or something. He went to help her - didn’t I tell you he was a gentleman? - and I thought that was the end of it.

But now she’s been coming over. And I don’t like the way he looks at her. I mean - he looks at her the way he looked at the stupid wainscoting. Anyone can be a panel! It’s a wall covering, people! It takes skill and intricacy and craftsmanship to be a parquet floor!

So anyway, this woman. Emma. The way he says her name makes my glossy finish go dull in places. It’s revolting. And he’s taken a break from the rum. He hasn’t slept on me in weeks. As a matter of fact, he hasn’t slept in his apartment in weeks. He must be spending his nights at her place, and from what I hear, she has carpet. CARPET! It’s a travesty. And a tragedy. He’s just leaving me here to dwell on my thoughts, all alone. While he goes somewhere with carpet. I’ve got two different kinds of wood! I guess men are not that familiar with wood. I miss him.

So next time she comes by, I take action. What’s a floor to do? I shift my inlay and make her stumble into the wall. With a lovely, loud thump. Immensely satisfying. And Peter lets me know that the impact was sizeable. (Peter’s the side wall. We have a good rapport. He gives me all the gossip. He borders the window, so I know everything that goes on outside.) And Killian gushes all over her. Asks if she’s all right, and can he get her anything, and will she please sit down, when I’m the one with the dislocated block! I SEE, IT’S ALL ABOUT THE BLONDE NOW!

I am fuming. That’s not a good look on hardwood, let me tell you. But then he comes up and shoves my block back into place and---- oh, honey! That was a little rough. I like it. OK - that almost makes up for the fact that he’s still fussing over her. I’m just going to have to--- OOOMPH. A kiss! He kissed me again! Now, that was not my fault. He just stumbled over the coffee table, but really, I’ll take him any way I can get him. His scruff scratched all along my varnish, and oh, baby. OH BABY.

OK, OK, I’m good now.

Wait. I just caught a snippet of their conversation and they are talking about moving in together. INTO HER PLACE. NOOOOOO!!!!! Apparently, Emma doesn’t feel safe here. I CAN’T IMAGINE WHY. Come over here, strumpet, and I’ll re-introduce you to Peter, the wall. You could be very happy, banging together on a regular basis. Do people still say ‘strumpet’? I told you I don’t know from vernacular. Oh god, my life is ending. He’s going to LEAVE ME. I am floorboardbroken. Be still my beating inlay! How will I survive? I’ll just warp and buckle, you’ll see. Not a day will go by when I won’t think of you……

-/-

It’s been two long, long months since Killian left. I miss him so much. I miss his socks, and the way he just slid over me. No one will ever be able to take his place--- WHOA.

The real estate agent just brought in the next prospective tenant, and hellooooooooooo gorgeous. WOW. Wait, wait - what’s your name, I didn’t quite catch… ah. Ruby.

Well, honey. You have curves in ALL the right places. And your stilettos - you know, I’m usually a stickler for people taking their shoes off, but your heels are doing amazing things to my pieces. Ooooh - they’re like pressure massages.

OK. I like you. Please take this apartment. We are going to have an epic time, I can already tell. You’ll just have to wax me on occasion.

_________________________________________

Part Two, by @profdanglaisstuff

Killian Jones considers himself pretty damn knowledgeable about floors.

Not in a professional capacity, of course —he’s a librarian, not a builder— but as someone who routinely finds himself face down on a variety of flooring surfaces he’s quite certain he counts as an amateur of Olympic standing.

He falls down a lot, okay?

His mind has always worked much faster than his body, specifically his feet, and the results… well, they haven’t always been pretty. There was that time in the woods for example, with the patch of poison ivy, and— yeah, he’s never gone hiking since.

So when he chooses flats he tends to go for ones with wall-to-wall carpeting. Or at least some area rugs. Which is a shame because he’s also a man who appreciates an older house with some good wainscoting and the carpeted places tend to be newer. They’ve got no style. And whatever Killian Jones does —even falling on his face— he does it with style.

He likes this flat immediately— it’s got great natural light and the wainscoting is fabulous— but he’s concerned about the parquet floor. It’s beautiful of course, but it looks like it might leave marks on his face and he’s pretty sure he spotted a few loose boards. That’s just asking for trouble. Regretfully, he decides not to take the flat but as he turns to ask the agent what else is available he slips in a puddle of slush and falls…

Onto the gentlest floor he’s ever encountered. He’d swear it caught him, cushioned him, and when his lips press against the varnished wood he’s not sure if the floor kisses him back or if he’s just losing his mind. It might not matter.

“This is a nice floor,” he says, staring at it.

“Yep,” the agent agrees. “It’s original.”

Killian stands, feeling a small pang of loss when the floor is merely under his feet again.

“I’ll take it,” he says.

-/-

The first few months in the new flat are rough. He’s drinking a lot, still trying to get over Milah. He moved to a new continent to forget her but she’s still in his dreams unless he drinks her out of them, and when he does the floor is there for him.

Literally. He wakes up sprawled out on it more times than he cares to count. But never, he notices, with parquet marks on his face.

He’s glad of that. His face is a damn good one, if he says so himself. And he does. Often.

The floor takes care of him and in return he tries to take care of it. He takes his shoes off at the door —he is a gentleman, after all— and sometimes he slides across it to get to the sofa, Risky Business-style. This is the first floor he’s been able to do that on without falling on his arse. He appreciates that.

He buys new socks to wear on it. Soft ones. Cashmere. It’s the least he can do. He may be a leetle bit in love with this floor.

But everything changes when he meets her. Emma. The goddess from across the hall. He’s been trying for weeks to work up the nerve to talk to her and then she just knocks on his door like it’s no thing, asking for a screwdriver.

He barely manages to stop himself from making a seriously offensive remark, something about if she needs a good screwing he’s happy to help.

Sometimes his mouth is as awkward as his feet.

Instead he fetches the screwdriver, watches in awe as she fixes her cabinet with a few deft twists of her wrist, and for the first time since Milah died thinks he might be able to move on.

Thank fuck he didn’t say the thing about the screwing.

Emma keeps stopping by; there are a remarkable number of things she’s ‘lost’ or ‘forgotten to buy’ and needs to borrow, and Killian’s been out of the game for a long time but he’s still able to recognise a thinly-veiled excuse when he hears one, and so after the third time she shows up asking for a cup of sugar he takes the plunge and kisses her.

And falls hopelessly in love.

He knows he’s got a stupidly besotted expression on his face when he looks at her and longing in his voice when he says her name but he doesn’t care. He’s completely gone for her and by some monumental stroke of luck she seems to feel the same.

Killian has never been happier. He stops drinking and spending nights passed out on the floor, spending them much more enjoyably in bed with Emma instead, and everything is just about perfect.

That is, until the day Emma trips over one of those damned loose boards in his floor and falls face first into the wall with a resounding thud, and though she tries to brush off his concern he makes her sit down and gets her a drink and when he pushes the loose board back into place he does so hard. That’ll show the bloody floor not to mess with his woman.

He stalks back to the sofa, determined to teach the floor a lesson, and so of course he trips over the coffee table and face-plants on it. Again.

And the floor is just as soft and gentle as it ever was. Damn. He just can’t stay mad at her.

It. He can’t stay mad at it.

He rubs his chin against the grain of the wood to say sorry and gives the boards a little pat as he stands up.  

He goes to sit on the sofa next to Emma who gives him a Look and tells him they need to talk.

Killian braces for the worst. He’s found that when a woman says that he’s rarely in for a pleasant conversation.

He hopes she hasn’t noticed about him and Floor…

But Emma surprises him. They’ve been spending more and more nights at her place of late, she says —she’s got the same nice wainscoting he does but her floors are carpeted. Soft, thick carpet, of which Killian strongly approves— and every time she comes over to his one or the other of them stumbles over something. She feels unsafe, she says, and also it’s getting annoying. So why doesn’t he just move in and they can live at her place together?

Killian can’t think of a single reason to object. In fact, he kisses her so hard to say ‘yes’ that she has to push him away before he makes her headache worse. By way of apology, he insists on carrying her home, over the threshold of her flat which is now theirs. He carries her all the way to the bed where he makes love to her until she forgets all about her headache. And he forgets all about his floor.

He moves in officially the next day. He doesn’t have many things, so it only takes a few hours. He doesn’t think about the floor, even once.

-/-

Living with Emma is a dream come true. Their lives mesh perfectly and they are deeply in love, incandescently happy. Their floor is softly carpeted but he falls down less, with her there to catch him. She doesn’t fall at all.

A few months after the move he gets a glimpse of his old floor when Ruby leaves the door open on her way out, running back to grab the purse she forgot, her sky-high stilettos clicking smartly across the parquet. The loose boards seem to have been fixed, he notices, and the surface is waxed to a high gloss.

“You settled in, then?” he asks Ruby. “Everything going all right?”

“Yeah,” Ruby replies. “Though I seem to be falling down a lot. It’s a bit weird. But the floor is really nice so I kinda don’t mind. You know what I mean?”

Killian smiles. “I know exactly what you mean,” he says.

[gloriousstudentfury-love]

Chapter 2

As i walked home from school i couldn't shake off the fact that someone was watching me. I kept turning back to see but only saw the school slowly fading away. I sighed "Come on Y/N who would just stalk you in an open place, well, apart from Richie" I giggled at my thought as i passed the Neibolt street sign. I always hated that place, i always felt as if something evil was lurking in the house. I shivered as i walked past the creepy ass house, as i almost completely walked past it i heard a faint giggling noise, i turned towards and my eyes widened in fear as the door opened slightly. In the doorway was a red balloon.12

"What the fuck" I mumbled as i stared at it, as if expecting it to like dance or something. Suddenly the balloon was gone, i started walking again when i heard the giggling again, except this time it sounded older "Oh Y/N where you going? Come stay with me, you'll float down here" I turned towards the door again to see a fucking clown, it was wearing a white costume and had red fiery hair. I screamed and started running farther down the road when i heard it's laughing "Y/N, come float with me don't be shy, down here, it's never dark" It growled as i screamed again and ran to my house, which was across the street from Richie's and slammed the door.

"No no no no please be gone please be gone" I pleaded as i looked out my window. It was gone. "What the fuck was that" I said, still shaking. I quickly turned the lights on and saw a note on the table "Be back soon sweetie, there's leftovers in the fridge, -Mom" "And that means she is not going to be back for a while" I groaned, knowing that she's off getting drunk somewhere. "Great now i'm alone" I said as i started shaking a bit, i hate being alone, and i also hate the dark, it just scares me. I went into the living room and sat down, rocking back and forth a bit when suddenly the phone rang.1

I jumped off the couch and ran to the phone "This is the L/N residence, may i ask who is speaking" I said in a snooty tone and i heard laughter at the other end "Well this is the famous Trashmouth speaking, is this the amazing sugar tits on the other side" I hear Richie say in a british accent and i giggle "I told you not to call me that, and why did you call me". Richie stopped talking for a second and i heard mumbling coming from the phone, Richie picked up the phone again "Well Ms.L/N, i called you because my friend Eddie Spaghetti here- "Don't call me that" I hear a voice say and i immediately know it's Eddie. "Okay, well before i was rudely interrupted by Eds here-" I hear groaning and i giggle "Eddie would like to invite you to his house to take a look at his mom, and so we can grab food then head to the barrens". I immediately nodded even though he couldn't see it, i didn't want to be alone in my house anymore "Okay i'll be there in ten". I said and I hear Richie say yes "Okay milady i'll miss you in those ten minutes" then he hung up.14

I grabbed my bike 

62

And headed down the road to eddie's.

When i reached it i rang the doorbell three times to which i hear a voice yell "Eddie, dear answer the door" Which followed to another voice saying "Yes mommy". The door swung open and Eddie smiled at me, "Hey Y/N" I smiled at him and said "Hi eddie, can i come in or am i just gonna have to wait outside" He chuckled and swung the door open for me so i could walk in.

"Take everything but the delicious deals, guys. My mom loves them. Hey, first you said the barrens and now you're saying the sewer. I mean, if we get caught?" Eddie asks as Richie and I immediately start stuffing food into our backpacks, what? I love food don't judge me. Bill turned around to look at Eddie "We won't, Eds. The sewers are public works. We are the public, aren't we?" Bill said as i stuffed some chips in my bag, Richie walks over to a cabinet and pulls it open to reveal a bunch of medicine "Eddie, are these your birth control pills?" He asked and Eddie rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and I'm saving it for your sister. This is private stuff."1

As we started to walk out the door Eddie's whale of a mother stopped us, i'm only nice to her because if not she won't let me see Eddie. "Eddie, dear, where you kids off to in such a rush?" She said as she painted her nails a sickly pink color, i never liked pink, it was way to bright and girly. We all looked at each other as she asked that question, trying to think of an excuse until Bill blurted out "Uhm, just m-m-my backyard, Mrs. K. I got a new..." He kept trying to pronounce the words and i started getting worried she would call our bluff when Richie exclaimed "A new croquet set. Jeez spit it out b-b-Bill." Eddie's mom somehow bought it and said "Okay. Oh and sweetie,don't go rolling around in the grass,especially if it's just been cut. You know how bad your allergies can get." "Yes mom." " Come on." I said. already starting to get uncomfortable when the whale once again spoke "Aren't you forgetting something?"19

I saw Eddie sigh a bit and walk up to his mom to kiss her on the cheek, i snickered at him and he playfully rolled his eyes and punched me in the shoulder "Do you want one from me too, Mrs. K?" Richie yelled to Mrs.K as we pushed him out the door while Eddie apologized "Sorry mommy."

Eventually Stan met up with us and we went to the Barrens "That's poison ivy. And that's poison ivy. And that's poison ivy." Stan stated pointing at random plants, which made Eddie freak out "Where? Where's the poison ivy?" I rolled my eyes as Richie yelled "No where, not every fucking plant is poison ivy, Stanley."

As Eddie quickly walked to the edge of the sewer Bill and Richie, and I started walking into the sewer, i groaned in disgust at how warm and squishy it felt in my shoes. "Ok well I'm starting to get itchy now and I'm pretty sure this is not good for me." Eddie stammered as Richie looked at him with mock concern "Do you use the same bathroom as your mother?" He asked as Eddie nodded at him, not seeming to understand he's messing with him "Sometimes, yeah." Richie nodded like a doctor hearing someones symptoms and stated. "Then you probably have crabs." I tried to hold in my laughter but one small giggle escaped my throat "Dammit" I said as Richie smirked at me "HA, i knew you found me funny!" Meanwhile, Eddie looked like he was ready to strangle Richie "That's so NOT funny." he stated as Richie started to notice Stan and Eddie weren't in the shit water. "Aren't you guys coming in?" He asked as Eddie shook his head vigorously "Uhuh that's gray water." "What the hell is gray water?" I asked as he looked at me and pointed at the shitty water "It's basically piss and shit. So I'm just telling you... You guys are splashing around in millions of gallons of Derry pee. Are, are you serious?" Eddie yells as Richie picks up a stick from the water "Doesn't smell like caca to me, Senor." he said in a spanish accent and another giggle escaped my mouth again.17

"O-o-okay I can smell it from here." Eddie gagged as Richie pointed the stick at him "It's probably just your breath wafting back into your face." Richie stated to which Eddie put his arms up in a what the fuck pose and glared at him "Have you ever heard of a staph infection?" "i'm also your staff infection." Richie stated and flailed the stick around while eddie gagged again "That's so unsanitary. you guys are like swimming in a toilet bowl right now. Have you ever heard of listeria?" "No what's listeria?" I said sarcastically as Richie threw a plastic bag that was in the gray water at eddie. "aghhh!! Are you retarded?You're the reason we're in this situation.-" "Guys!" Bill yelled and we all turned to see him holding a shoe "Shit. Don't tell me that's..." Stan said shakily as Bill shook his head "No. Georgie was wearing galoshes." "Who's sneaker is it?" Eddie asks as i looked at the shoe "It's Betty Ripsoms." I stated and Eddie of course started freaking out "Shit, oh god, oh fuck I don't like this." "How do you think Betty feels... running around these tunnels with only one freaking shoe." Richie joked while hopping around, but we all glared at him and he quickly shut up.20

"What if she's still here?" Stan asked and Richie rolled his eyes and motioned for Eddie "Eddie, come on!" Eddie shook his head and looked at us with a frightened expression "My mom will have an aneurysm if she finds out we were playing down here. I'm serious. Bill?" We all turned to Bill again and he spoke "If I were Betty Ripsom, I would want us to find me. G-georgie too." "What if I don't want to find them? I mean, no offense, Bill, but I do not want to end up like... I don't want to go missing either." Eddie said quietly and I glared at him "He has a point." Stan mumbled and all hope in Bill's eyes were gone " You too?" he said and Stan looked up at him "It's summer... We're supposed to be having fun. This isn't fun. This is scary and disgusting." He said and i gave them both a death glare "Guys don't be such assholes and get in he-" I was interrupted from my rant by a loud splash in the river, we all turned to see a boy with an H cut into his stomach and multiple scratches and bruises on him, i ran to help him up as Richie yelled "Holy shit, what happened to you?"14

1770 Words

[featherypromises]

The Knife of my Ambition.

This is my first non-snz focused sickfic, I wanted to whump something and J-Hope was the next member I wanted to write for. I hope my favorite Hobi-stans love it. Caretaking primarily Jimin, with some Tae, with hints of the other members.

The Knife of my Ambition 

Everything had been going fairly well during this dance practice. The members had been doing a few run-throughs of "Blood, Sweat, and Tears". They were now taking a well deserved break after the 4th time through the intense choreography. Well… most of them were taking a break... Jung Hoseok, also known as J-Hope, was using the lapse in activity to start an impromptu practice for his solo dance: Boy Meets Evil, when he suddenly missed a step. This type of error wouldn't have been an odd occurrence for the other members, especially at the end of a long practice session, but J-Hope was their dance leader. He had the most passion when dancing and was downright obsessive about every step being correct. 

This was also a dance that the other members would have bet money on the oldest dancer knowing by heart by now. He had been practicing with a choreographer since Mid-August and had even filmed the Intro's music video in only a few takes in the beginning of September. It was the last week of November and the group was only weeks away from their big performances at the MAMA awards. As Hoseok regained his footing, he used his wristband to wipe his forehead and tried to flow into the next set of movements, including a capoeira-like high kick that took the performer more than a meter off the ground. Instead of landing neatly on his feet, J-Hope stumbled as he landed and almost fell. 

The erratic, unusual movements drew the attention of the other dancer in the group. Jimin who arguably had as much skill in dance as his hyung, was startled by the severity of the mistakes. It was so unlike Hobi-hyung to struggle this much with a dance this close to as stage performance. At this point, Hoseok typically spent his practices walking around the others as they danced and would tug Namjoon's leg an inch to the left or move Jin's arm to demonstrate when to drop a pose.

Jimin was concerned for his roommate. Hobi had caught a head cold late last week and was still sniffling and sneezing frequently throughout the night. Luckily, no one else had caught it from him yet, but with the extended practices and late nights, Jimin was just hoping to make it through the MAMA award show before the members' immune systems failed them completely. If Hoseok had caught something,as healthy as he was, it meant one of two things had occurred: either this was a nasty virus or Hobi-hyung was exhausting himself. 

The rapper did look completely drained (not that they weren't all tired, but this seemed different somehow). Hobi's normally shining, happy face lacked a lot of its color and was lined with tension. His eyes had dark bruise-like circles beneath them. He was not really sweating, considering the effort he was putting in, but he looked a little flushed as he tried to breath through the cloth mask that he wore. He was so congested that Jimin could hear him breathing from where he was, almost panting through an open mouth.

Jimin chewed his lower lip out of nervous habit. He was unsure if he should try to talk the others into putting off the remainder of practice until tomorrow. This problem was decided for him as Suga tripped over he own feet as he got up and fell backwards onto his bottom. Instantly, everyone stopped, their shoes squeaking against the floor and they turned towards Min Yoongi. 

“Hyung, are you okay?” Rapmon asked, his eyes laughing as he reached down to give the older rapper a hand up.

“Yeah, just tired.” the quiet man replied. Namjoon nodded and called the practice to an end, overriding Hoseok’s breathless protestations that they should really do the BST routine just once more. Namjoon scratched his head in momentary indecisiveness, but shook his head,

“We are all tired. We worked hard today, but we will do much better choreo tomorrow after we get a decent night’s sleep.” Hoseok’s eyes hardened over the brim of his mask and he turned away from the others to face the mirror, staring himself down. As the others filed out of the room, heading for the familiar comfortable seats of the van, Hobi muffled a hoarse cough into the small towel he had draped around his neck and wiped his nose. Jimin lagged behind the others, and instead of leaving the practice room, he grabbed a water bottle out of the mini fridge that they kept for the members’ use. The smaller man went over to the other dancer and offered him the drink. Hoseok’s mood softened in response to the kindness of the young vocalist.

“Thanks, Jiminie…”

Jimin winced slightly. The older man’s voice cracked and rasped as he spoke.

“You sound awful, hyung…” the singer said, sympathy and worry heavy in his lilting voice.

“Yeah,...” Hoseok admitted, a little embarrassed, “I’m not feeling that great, but it’s nothing. I really wanted to tighten that section in BST and clean up the kicks in BME. I think I would be fine with just one more run through.”

Jimin stepped in behind his hyung and began massaging the older man’s shoulders gently,

“We will work even harder on it tomorrow to make up for missing this one, Hyung.” 

The older dancer huffed out a frustrated sigh that dissolved into a fit of coughing that was intense enough to make him double over, rubbing his chest. Jimin’s eyes widened in shock and he put his small hands around the older boy’s biceps to steady him. Even though Hobi had directed the violent coughing into his elbow, he struggled out of the grasp of the young vocalist. He labored to catch his breath.

“No… (koff-koff) Jimin, I don’t…” the rapper choked on another cough, before finally taking in a decent lungful of air and continued, “I don’t want you getting this…”

“You are worried about me at a time like this?” Jimin asked in disbelief, “Can you hear how you sound right now?”

Straightening himself, Hoseok ignored the question, saying coldly,

“Go catch up with the others, I want to stay and practice my solo dance a bit longer. I’ll see you at home.” 

That stung. Dismissed, Jimin turned and stalked off angrily. He made his way to the restroom and bent his head over the sink. He washed his sweating face with cool water, letting a few warm tears blend in with the waste water as it escaped down the drain.

Suddenly, a toilet flushed, making Jimin jump. Taehyung emerged from a stall, grinning at his hyung.

“Oh? Jiminie-hyung!” His tone changed to one of curiosity as he looked at Jimin’s face, “Are you okay?”

Jimin smiled at his year-mate, “Yeah, Tae-Tae. Just tired and…” Jimin pushed his hair back from his forehead and sighed, “well, tired.” 

“You said “tired” twice.” said the taller boy, with all the innocence of someone much younger than he was. Jimin chuckled a little bit at the way the younger man made it sound. It was the same tone that Tae used if he found a price tag hanging from a piece of clothing jimin was wearing, part surprise and part news broadcast.Jimin leaning his tired back against the edge of the sink and said,

“Hobi-hyung still wants to practice more, but he still has that cold and now he’s started coughing a lot.” 

Tae wrapped his arms around Jimin’s waist comfortably and said, “We can stay here a while longer if you want to. I don’t mind.” Jimin hugged the affectionate member back and they went back to watch Hoseok finish his routine. 

As he opened the frosted glass door to the practice room, Jimin’s heart nearly stopped completely. Hoseok was laying, unmoving, in the middle of the dance floor. He screamed, his voice ripping out of him in a panicked shriek,

“HOSEOK!!!”

Taehyung cried out, “HYUNG!” and they raced to him, dropping to their knees. With trembling hands Jimin shook the older man, “Hoseok! Jung Hoseok?!?”

The rapper did not respond. Tae lifted the older man’s upper body into his arms, cradling Hobi against his chest. Jimin was dimly aware that there were tears falling from the younger man’s eyes, onto Hoseok’s hair.

His mind racing in a blind panic, Jimin placed his fingers to Hobi’s neck to check for the rapper’s pulse. It was there instantly to Jimin’s relief, but the older man’s skin was dry and far too hot, even for someone at the end of a long practice and the throbbing pulse was rapid. Frantically, Jimin felt the older’s man’s face and forehead.

“Tae, he’s burning up! I can’t wake him!” Taehyung nodded, trying not to sob with fear, his bottom lip pinched viciously between his teeth. Jimin stood, and ran to the door to get reception,

“I have to call an ambulance and the others! Stay with him!”

His heart pounding, Jimin dialed the memorized emergency number. Once he knew the emergency responders were on their way, he called RM’s phone, swallowing against his bone-dry throat. He could hear the chatter and complaints of the others as the leader picked up,

“Hey, what’s taking you three so long? We’re in the van…” 

Jimin interrupted, “We need help! Hoseok passed out!” The phone call was instantly ended and within thirty seconds, Jimin heard the sounds of running feet coming down the hall at top speed. He called out to Namjoon who he saw first, “I called the ambulance! Tae is with him now.” The leader didn’t slow down but ran past Jimin, tearing the door open and skidded to a stop beside Taehyung.

“What happened?” The rapper asked the two younger members. Tae couldn’t even speak. Jimin answered,

“We aren’t sure. He was coughing a lot after you left. He has a high fever and won’t wake up.” His voice sounded robotic and hollow to his own ears. As if he had left his body and was observing all of this from a far distance. 

Tae wiped his streaming tears away with a sleeve, his breathing coming in choppy, uneven hiccups, “He’s shaking… Hyung… I…” Tae clamped his lips together tightly, trying not to break down into tears again.

The others looked stricken: Jungkook was crying softly, his hand pressed to his mouth. He seemed terrified. Seokjin held the younger man to him and was mechanically patting the maknae’s back, but his face was like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. Yoongi knelt behind Taehyung and hugged the young vocalist from behind, wiping away tears, first from Tae’s eyes, then his own, with his long, gentle fingers. Namjoon held Hobi’s hand, softly calling to the older man and nervously glancing at the door periodically. 

The next five minutes were the longest of Jimin’s life. At last the paramedics arrived and the boys were forced to back away as they loaded Hoseok onto a stretcher and into the ambulance. Jimin answered their questions, never looking away from Hobi’s pale face. RM got into the ambulance with them and told the eldest member to call the managers immediately. The ambulance sped down the street before Seokjin had the phone to his ear. Once the manager were notified, the remaining five members piled into the van with Seokjin behind the wheel. 

When they reached the hospital, they swarmed the reception desk, desperate for news. The nurse smiled kindly, but she could tell them nothing as the doctor was still examining Hoseok. She showed them into the waiting area with a polite bow. 

Twenty agonizing minutes ticked by. All of the members tried to cope with their anxiety for Hobi in their own ways: Jimin, pacing a furrow into the linoleum, was biting his lip again. Yoongi was ripping and tearing at his cuticles and finger nails in nervous tension, his face blotchy from crying. Taehyung looked like a ghost, pale and silent with drying tear stains on his face still. Seokjin was watching the clock on the wall, petting Kookie’s head, which was in his lap. Jungkook had cried until his head ached and was staring at the blank part of the opposing wall from the comforting pillow of his hyung’s lap.

Namjoon finally appeared in the doorway and was immediately surrounded by five clamouring members and a torrent of questions. Responding to them one by one, the leader said wearily, 

“He’s resting right now. He woke up for only a few minutes. They started him on a IV. They think he may have pneumonia.” The member gasped, winced, or swore according to their natures, before Namjoon continued, “His fever is pretty high, they wrote 39.6°C (103.3°F) on the chart in the room. So they will have to get that down before they will let anyone else see him. They said between his cold, exhaustion, and dehydration, this situation could have been really bad. The doctor said that if he responds to the fever reducers, we can take him home. We got lucky, but he’ll need to be on bedrest for about a week.” 

Spent, the leader dropped into a chair and covered his face with his hands, taking in a shaky breath. Jimin sat down next to him and rubbed gently around RM’s neck and shoulders, trying to release some of the stress the older man was struggling with. The other members to their seats for the rest of their vigil. 

About 3 hours later, a nurse came to let them know that Jung Hoseok’s fever was steadily dropping and that he was awake. She said that provided they put on masks, to protect themselves and Hoseok, that they could come in to see their friend. They agreed immediately and followed her back to a small one-person room. They nearly tripped over each other trying to see their friend through the narrow doorway.

Hobi was propped up against the raised head of the hospital bed and several pillows. He was covered waist to toe by a warm blanket and had a second one around his slender shoulders. He was still pale and was still attached to the IV drip. He smiled sheepishly at the other members.

“Hey…” Hoseok’s voice was hoarse and sounded like it hurt to take in a full breath. Jimin saw Taehyung whirl on his heel and leave the room, struggling to hold back tears in front of Hobi. And, god that just made things harder. Jimin took an unsteady breath and plastered his fanservice smile on his face. It was not genuine, this hurt too much for that, but it was the best he could manage at the moment. 

“Hyung, I’m glad your awake! How are you feeling?” Namjoon asked, placing a warm hand onto Hobi’s shoulder. He seemed calm now, but Jimin saw the muscles in his neck jump.

“I’ll be alright, but I’d be lying if I said ‘I feel pretty good’ at the moment…” the dancer’s sentence was punctuated by a deep, painful sounding cough. 

Yoongi said nothing: no snarky comment, no swearing, no reprimands. Instead he went over to his friend’s side, his eyes bent on the floor. With no warning, the oldest rapper threw his arms around the taller man and buried his face in Hoseok’s chest, crying softly. Hobi’s astonishment was just as much as the other members’, but he patted Yoongi’s back as the older man sobbed; making wet patches on the hospital gown. Poor Taehyung came back in, saw Yoongi in tears and began to tear up again himself, laughing through watery eyes at his own reaction. 

Together the other members formed a semi circle around the bed, some crying, others scolding, all smiling with relief as they spoke with Hoseok. Jimin had been quiet until now. He was a mixture of anger, anxiety and relief that made his stomach feel like he had swallowed a stone. His small hands were balled into fists at his sides. He finally spoke, saying in a small, clear voice,

“Hyung, I swear to god, if you do anything so stupid and reckless again, I will never forgive you.” 

Hobi nodded,

“I’m so sorry Jiminie… I’m sorry to all of you for making you worry. It was stupid…” The dancer began to cough harder, forcing Yoongi upright. Jungkook quickly grabbed a nearby glass of water and held it until Hobi could manage to take a sip as the maknae held the glass. Hoseok settled back onto the pillows again and sighed, rubbing his chest. 

“Does your chest hurt, Hobiyah?” asked Seokjin, his brow creased with worry.

“A little… It feels tight, like I’m being squeezed by Kookie.” This joke earned the sick man a watery chuckle from Taehyung, who was roughly swiping at his eyes.

Just then, the leader was called to the door by the doctor and began looking over papers. He took a bottle of pills the doctor provided and nodded as the instructions were explained. He signed the papers and handed them back, bowing politely to the doctor before rejoining the others. 

“You get to come home with us, Hyung.” Namjoon said gently, “But, you are on strict bedrest until that cough is gone.” Hobi nodded and smiled at his leader.

Within the next hour, Hoseok was wrapped up warmly and was being wheeled by Seokjin out to the van in a wheelchair. He was drowning in borrowed clothes from the other members. He was wrapped in Jimin’s sweatshirt and had Taehyung’s winter coat on over top of that. Hobi had argued against taking the other’s warm clothing, but Yoongi just threatened to add his coat too, as he pulled off his “supreme” beanie and fitted it onto the younger rapper’s head. Carefully, Jungkook lifted his sick hyung into the passenger seat of the van and went so far as to fasten the seatbelt around him. Hobi muffled a laugh that became a cough into his hand. Jimin laughed outright, He hadn’t thought that Jungkook would have a talent for this sort of care. Jungkook stuck out his tongue at Jimin, and crammed himself into the back of the van between RM and Taehyung. Jimin took the seat behind Hoseok. 

They pulled away from the curb, heading back to the comfort of their dormitory. Jimin leaned forward and snaked his arm around the car seat, placing it on Hoseok’s shoulder. The older man looked at him using the passenger’s side mirror and smiled, squeezing his hand gently in reply. 

There was always something to be said for having ambitions, but like a knife, it could be turned against the wielder if they were not careful when using it. Jimin watched Hobi start to nod off as the lights of the city slipped past them. He learned back in his seat and let the gentle movement of the car lull him into sleep as well.

[slothgiirl]

FOREVER ISN’T FOR EVERYONE (IS FOREVER FOR YOU?) part 2

Lucy and I are up before the sun. I've called a cab and manage to grab a banana from the complementary breakfast. Most of the team's still asleep.

 "Fucking techies," Ben mutters, rubbing at his eyes from behind his sunnies, "get to sleep while I do all the work.” He'd stayed out with the rest of the band all night. Who knows they'd gotten back in. And now we had actual work to do. 

"Just you," Lucy replies archly.

"You two weren't out until three in the morning. At least I got a nice shag out of the whole thing."

"TMI Ben!" It's too early for this. But the whole city is too beautiful too miss. New Zealand. I have too at least make it to the beach once during these few days we have here before heading to Auckland. Maybe even make it to hobbit town. 

"It's true. I hate dealing with the business side. I just signed on to party and travel."  

"Where did you guys even go?”

"A bunch of bars. Got some late night eats." He shrugs, looking way too relaxed in jeans and a t shirt. But maybe I was the one out of place in slacks and a silk cami. I just couldn't get my head around doing business in jeans. "You should've come with us Ellie. We missed you last night."

"I prefer not feeling like shit two days in a row actually."

Lucy snorts, "oh you're perfect. You'll do great out here with us."

There's complimentary coffee and I make sure to pour as much creamer as I can into the cup. Ben and the venue manager talk, go over some last minute papers. He passes them to me and I read them and nod, passing them back. They're the same as I have in my files. 

Ben signs off and then they're joking and bantering and I want to stab my eye out. Lucy's gone to go over the press list and signing off on the state of backstage. It's not a huge venue. Nothing like the O2 back home. But the size does give everyone a better look at the stage, probably without selling a kidney for it. 

We're done, having taken longer than we planned. We have to race back to meet up with band to do press. Fuck. Our taxi gets caught up in traffic. 

"How's there even enough cars for there to be traffic," Lucy complains. She doesn't trust the band to speak without her there to do damage control. 

"Fuck it. We're just meeting them at the radio station. Then we can head to hotel and do the rest of the day's press in there." He sends a text. "Can you send a taxi for them Ellie?"

"Got it." At some point I've got to get lunch. A banana and coffee isn't enough to hold me over. 

We barely make it in time and I run off to get them all breakfast while they do their radio interview for the morning. Without specifics I'm left with a bit of time to wander about and find someplace to eat. 

The air feels fresher. Everything has a rose colored cast from it's newness to me. Even I feel lighter without the weight of being known here. Like I could change and be the person I wanted to away from home. In this new place. 

There's a restaurant a street over and the coziness amid the skyscrapers catch my eye. It's homey and welcoming and it smells amazing. I order a couple of their breakfast specials and lunch sandwiches, taking one for myself as the kitchen preps the rest. 

"Large family," the waitress asks. 

I shake my head, "for work actually. I went to school for years to be a glorified assistant." It's funny. I did. But this job, it felt right, even now. 

"That's what my son keeps telling me." 

The foods great. I sip at some tea and wait to be called back. Content to use to wifi. After we get back to the hotel, where some of the crew are setting up for the press, and with the help of the first interviewers of the day, I'll finally have some free time. 

Go walk about the beach. Oriental bay is supposed to be beautiful. And close by. 

Ben texts me and I met up with them at the curb, carrying a large bag of takeout, "It's good," I promise. 

"You ate without us," Miles accuses, all boyish naughtiness, clad in a wife beater and trackies. 

"Down old boy," Lucy says, slapping his chest. Nick laughs, taking a box eagerly as Ben hails us a cab, of which there are plenty in this part of the city. 

"Do we really have press all day," Jaime groans. 

"Bet you didn't think of that when you wanted more people to hear you play," Ben notes with a mouthful of sandwich. 

Miles shimmies, features twisted in delightful amusement, "fame's half the reason I joined a band. Who doesn't want to be a fmaous rockstar. Sex. Drugs, and rock n roll baby."

"You look more like the fifth Beatle than Mick Jagger," I note as we pile into a cab. His hair's certainly Beatlesque. He's also got the boyish charm down, however rakish. 

"Oi!"

Lucy and Ben shepherd the boys to another interview, with promises of partying and beaches later on our last full day before the concert here. 

I wave them off and head up to our room to change out of slacks. I'd been right, I'd been overdressed. And the heat only made it worse. 

By the time I change into some shorts, I feel to tired to go out and sigh see, figuring tonight I'll actually go out with the rest of the crew. It'd be more fun that way. Instead of alone. 

Instead I head down to the lobby with a bag and book and head out to wander the area at least. There's some fast food, the names I know, Mcdonalds and Domino's, and some obvious tourist traps that I go into. 

My family and roommates will at least want a mug. For the first time, I use my own card to buy some souvenirs, opting for keychains to save space. I wander into some of the regular shops to kill time. 

All the stores nearby have a striking similarity to the ones back home. But the architecture's all different. 

My phone is soon full of pictures of streets and buildings and me wearing a New Zealand hat, before I give in and get Mcdonalds, heading back to the hotel, ready to curl up in the beautiful lobby with the book I've lugged all the way from home. 

The air conditioning is a gift. The couch by the indoor fountain perfect and I try to focus on reading Anna Karenina. It's been nagging me since uni. But I've never managed to get through it. 

So many beautiful quotes out there and I can't ever finish a book. 

I almost drop my book as Lucy startles me, taking a seat next to me. "Want to grab lunch by the beach? I mean dinner really but either way?"

"And the boys?"She rolls her watery eyes, the color of fog bound sky, "up to change before having margaritas by the pool. I think they're going out bar hopping again later if you're up for it."

I shrug, "let's see how we feel after wandering about." It's a long walk, but how else will we get to see everything. 

Lucy makes me take a pictures of her against various backdrops. "Make sure you get that building!" She poses. "Wait, over here!" She fixes her hair, back and out of her eyes, "Wait! I think I closed my eyes in that one."

I laugh, willingly taking photo after photo and waiting for her to check them, swiping and zooming in to make sure she likes how it came out. 

"Thank you so much Ellie!"

"It's really no problem."As we get to the beach we duck into the first place that smells good and has a line. 

"First rule of traveling," Lucy grins. "Follow your nose."

It's not half bad. Fish and chips. The fish claiming to be fresh from the day's catch. A perfect dinner. 

Lucy tells me about her last job. "A smaller band, mostly big in europe. I think breaking out into the world's the hardest part. So many bands flounder in the states and unfortunately it's a huge market setter."

"Did you always want to do this kind of PR?" 

"No. But who could refuse traveling! Especially compared to a desk job."

We each pay for our food and head down to the water. The water too inviting to refuse, both of us wading in. 

"It's warm," we both squeal, use to the icy waters of England. 

"It's probably easier to deal with them though."

Lucy's eyebrows rise as she snorts, "you'd be surprised at how crazy things in the boardroom can get!"

We go in past our knees. Yelping as the waves splash, breaking against us. "My underwears soaked," I admit, blushing fiercely. The wet feeling making me want to go running into the water or for a change of clothes.  

"Didn't you say we were just dipping our feet in?"

We laugh. 

The groupchat goes off and we glance at each other, before heading back out of the water. We read over the texts with the sun setting on the water. "This place is paradise," I tell her. Its warm and by the beach and so green. 

"Oh and we've barely even started. Ben told me you didn't even have a passport?" 

I blush. "Yes. I'd only ever been up as far as Scotland." It had been the first and only time I had met my mother's parents. Her family. And despite how it ended, it was a lovely time in the highlands. 

Lucy laughs, scrolling through the messages. "Ben and the rest are heading out to drink up on Cuba street. 'cept for Miles and Alex. They want to go catch some film at a quaint little theater."

"What movie?" 

"The Red Shoes. There'll be food and drinks there too." We trudge through the sand and peddles and reach the sidewalk. This time we hail a cab. 

"How's Cuba street," I ask. She's travelled before. Probably been here with a different band. A different crew. Older than me, lines around her eyes. 

"I mean it's cool," she offers, "but mostly pubs and-it's very much Camden town than Shoreditch."

"A movie sounds nice after all the walking. Maybe along with a nice glass of wine."

"I'll tell Miles we'll be over then," she says, looking up with a smile. It's great to have her here, to get along with her so easily. I'd been nervous before, never having made friends easily in school. Just my dorm mates and whoever I ended up sitting near in class. 

"And I'll tell the cab where to."

Miles and Alex are waiting for us outside when we pull up. Even illuminated by dim streetlights, it's easy too see how pretty Alex is, his face now sans aviators and with a good night's sleep.  

Large and expressive caramel eyes, a softness to his sharp jaw, and a well formed mouth. It helped that he was a good mood, joking with Miles.

"-and I said fuck that mate and drained the whole thing. Burned to bloody hell and back though!"

"Just can't beat an englishman!"

Lucy rolls her eyes, "boys will be boys."

"Ah my dear sweet Lucy who pelts me with candy as I mouth off! Reminds me of me history teacher," Miles winks exaggeratedly. "This is me mate Alex ," he clasps him on the shoulder, pulling him into his embrace, "Alex. This is Lucy and Ellie who I know you already met but."

"Speaking of which," I note, aware of the sand still stuck to my legs and the drying hem of my shorts, "you owe me a drink."

"Oi! What a woman! Hell El, gotta at least wait until we sit down or you might be what we call the local old dog who spends all his days in the back booths of pubs." His voice is all over the place as he twirls an imaginary mustache and it's a combination of it all and him being him that has us all laughing at his antics.

We order chips and a bottle of wine, "to keep it classy," Miles winks, and take our seats in the tiny theater. 

Alex takes the seat between me and Miles, attention dominated by the other man. All the better for me to sneak glances off and it's stupid but I already feel my heart speed up at the sight of him like I'm a teenager all over again. 

"Any if you seen this movie before," Lucy asks conversationally.

" 've not but then again i'm not the most cultured," Miles does a very bad accent as he continues, "je ne sais quoi."

"The french give us films and Serge Gainsbourg and this is how you pay them back," Alex teases, smacking Miles lightly in the arm. I chuckle at that, watching Miles go all mock affronted and tease Alex right back. 

"Is it anything like that old fairy tale?" I can vaguely recall something about cursed red shoes, but the twelve dancing princesses was the story I asked for night after night to my mums despair. 

Alex nods, with a delighted smile on his lips, "loosely. It's great. I think you'll like a lot."

The lights dim and the screen flickers on. I sit back and watch, glass of wine in hand feeling like I'm finally living that life that doesn't really exist, the moments that come straight of of films like this one.

Alex is right. I do like the film.

Its beautiful and I'm not bored at any point. I can here Miles making quite snide comments and am not surprised. 

"It was good," Lucy remarks after as we head out, "very black swan."

"Wouldn't black swan be like this film since it came out before?" I utter. 

"She's got you there Lucy darling," Miles snipes. "Who's up for some drinks! The rest of the boys are still out and about and I've got a bloody mary calling my name." 

He glances at Alex for a second before erupting into laughter that has Alex smiling as well. Must be an inside joke of there's. 

"Are you two coming," Alex asks, meeting my gaze. 

I shake my head. If I wake up early enough tomorrow I could probably squeeze in a trip to hobbit town and back before I had to run anywhere. 

I tell him as much. "Mums a huge Tolkien nerd, so I kind of have to."

Alex nods in understanding, "I've never cared for Tolkien. 've always preferred science fiction. Going way back to good ol Mary."

It take me a second for it to click. Mary Shelley. As in Frankenstein. "Never read it."

"You should. It's a great little book."

Miles snorts, "just watch the movie with the willy wonka fella!"

Alex rolls his eyes fondly. 

We hail a cab and part ways. 

Lucy boldly proclaiming she intends to get a good nights sleep and still look "banging in my fourties."

"Ya that old Lucy darling," Miles snorts, unable to help himself.

"Don'tcha know never to ask a lady her age Kane," Lucy calls out as the cab pulls away and I'm giggling, carefree. No one here knows me. I feel unabashed, making a scene and taking cabs about town. 

"So that Alex is right fit," Lucy states with a knowing smile as she plays the spice girls loudly in our room, handing me more wine. I blush and think I must've drunk way more than I though I did. He is! And I don't know what to do with that. 

So I shrug and reply, "I guess," to her very unconvinced face. With ease, a down another glass of wine, shamelessly crying out spice girls lyrics. 

I might as well be thirteen again.