#I want to see this walking disaster flail for myself

[bitebitesnap]

Shallot offering food as compensation because he doesn;t know how to deal with emotional people is sending me

He offers you a dead deer because he annoyed you one too many times and you yelled at him. Didn't even try to prepare it , you've just got a whole ass carcass on your porch bleeding everywhere.

He doesn't get why you're upset now. He got you food! Isn't it all better??

[hawkinsbnbg]

Eddie and flirting weren't exactly good friends.

See, Eddie had always been bad at flirting if not a disaster at it. And it didn't help when he had a bad habit of going dumb around Steve Harrington—the boy of his dream, the muse of his soul, the sun of his flowers, and the light of his life.

At this point, it was inevitable that whatever he managed to say to Steve always ended up sounding awkward or worse, ominous.

"Why are you staring?" Steve cocked an eyebrow at him, hazel eyes gleaming in amusement.

They were having a movie night at the Munson’s new apartment after holding one at Steve’s just last week.

And as usual, Eddie’s attention was on the other boy, unable to stop gazing at that lovely face.

Sometimes, Eddie still felt like he was hallucinating whenever he hung out with Steve. Because, never in his wildest dream, he would see himself being friends with King Steve.

And yet, against all odds, after surviving Hell together, they had become fast friends and stayed like that for months. These days, Eddie could confidently say that he was Steve's best friend besides Robin.

Then again, he was quite sure Steve wouldn't give him The Moves™️—lips biting, eyes glancing up through lashes, knees squeezing, hips knocking, hands holding—if they were just friends.

So. Flirting.

If only Eddie was all suave and smooth, he bet they would be boyfriends by now, and not whatever that had been going on between them these last few months.

Sorry for staring but your eyes are so beautiful; they’re the most priceless gemstones in the world, sweet candies that I want to possess, a hazel sky that I want to keep drowning in, was all Eddie wanted to say.

But instead, he blurted out. "I wanna lick your eyeballs.”

Horrified, Eddie slapped a hand over his mouth before quickly correcting his grave mistake.

"Wait– I didn't mean that," he flailed his hands around in panic and tried to explain to a wide-eyed Steve. "I meant, I want to keep your eyes to myself– No, that sounds so creepy, oh my god–"

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Steve straightened from his comfy position on the couch and held Eddie's hands gently. "Calm down, Eds. Just take your time. I promise I won't go anywhere."

Eddie nodded, heart beating fast under the attention of those warm and kind doe-eyes.

Eventually, he got a grip on himself and turned his hands so he could lace them with Steve. Theirs were about the same size but always fitted so well together like gloves.

Eddie looked up to meet Steve's patient gaze. He took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. The success rate was sixty percent, which was enough for him to work with.

"I uhm, like your eyes a lot,” he cleared his throat slightly. “So can I take you on a date tomorrow?"

In a fleeting second, he feared for a rejection. But then, Steve smiled at him, sweet and pretty, and Eddie was done for.

"My shift lasts until four, so you can pick me up then," Steve gave his hands a light squeeze.

Overwhelmed with joy, Eddie pulled the other boy into his lap to kiss him silly.

Later, they moved into Eddie's bedroom to continue their making out session without worrying about being walked in on by Wayne.

He hunched over Steve with those long legs wrapping around his lower back, and kept peppering Steve's face with kisses because he could never have enough of him.

"Should've," a kiss on the forehead. "Done," a kiss on the eyelid. "This," a kiss on the nose. "Sooner," another kiss on the cheek.

Steve giggled and threaded his fingers into Eddie's hair to pull him down into another tender kiss.

When they parted again, they were both blushing and panting.

Eddie had to refrain himself from grinding against Steve, knowing he wouldn't be able to keep his pants on once he succumbed to the siren's call.

Steve didn't share the same sentiments as him, however, when those legs tightened and forced Eddie to scoot in closer, making their clothed erections press into each other.

Even through multiple layers of denim, Eddie still felt the delicious friction that lit him up like wildfire.

"God, you're killing me, sweetheart," Eddie groaned and pecked those pouty lips, red and swollen like sin.

"Haunt me then," Steve whispered and rolled his hips, tempting and alluring. "Make me remember."

Eddie didn't say anything. He didn't need to. He just surrendered himself to the siren's call and got lost in the sweet paradise that was Steve Harrington.

Afterward, as Eddie was stroking Steve's naked back absently, he pressed a kiss on Steve's forehead.

"Think we should take it slow, baby?"

"If that's what you want, Eds," Steve shrugged slightly. Then, in a small voice, he glanced up from where he was pillowing on Eddie's chest. "You'll tell me if I move too fast, 'kay?"

"The last thing I'm gonna complain about is you, baby boy," Eddie snorted and tucked a stray hair behind Steve's ear. "I just wanna hear your opinions about our relationship is all."

This time, it was Steve's turn to snort. "Haven't been on a date yet, and here we're already talking about our relationship."

"Yeah," Eddie chuckled. "We're kinda doing things out of order right now," he gave Steve's forehead another small kiss. "But you were an impatient little thing, sweetheart. Can't imagine what you would've done to me if I hadn't given in earlier."

"Don't pretend like you haven't been desperate to lay your hands on me," Steve rolled his eyes with a quiet huff.

"Keep doing that and you're gonna see how desperate I am, doll face," Eddie said huskily.

"Is that a threat?" Steve raised his eyebrow in challenge, hazel eyes gleaming impishly. "Because it's not working on me, honey."

Eddie's lips stretched into a wide grin and before Steve could taunt him again, he started tickling the other boy.

In the end, Steve had won the tickle war and Eddie had blown him off as a reward.

To no one’s surprise, they managed to go through another round, and by the time they finished, Steve was too out of it to tease Eddie anymore.

The morning after, he had woken up with Steve in his arms.

Once Steve roused, they had made out a bit too long in the bed, exchanged toes-curling handjobs in the bathroom, and had breakfast together with Wayne before leaving for work.

When the time rolled in, Eddie might be a bit too eager to give Steve everything, because he had gone a little overboard for their date night.

But all in all, Steve had enjoyed the dinner Eddie prepared and given him the most legs-shaking blowjob ever when they were watching TV on the couch.

Later that night, having Steve snore blissfully in his arms, Eddie decided that the date was more than a success.

[moonlitceleste]

marinette dupain-cheng’s guide to picking up cute guys

A/N: Chez Vous is real in the DC universe; it’s described as a restaurant but I decided to use it as the name of the café because I didn’t want to come up with one myself. It translates to “at your house,” which basically implies “make yourself at home.”

thanks to @ramos123 for being my beta reader! <3

ao3

“Bet.”

Marinette slapped a crisp 20-dollar bill onto the wooden table with enough force to slosh around the brown liquid in the cup sitting before Alya’s smirking face.

Chez Vous was the name of the café they had been sitting in for the past fifteen minutes. The place had a nice ambience, the quiet chatter of customers and aromatic smells combining to make what was an unusually cozy atmosphere considering the location.

Gotham wasn’t exactly known for being hospitable, but she supposed the fact that it was clearly fashioned after Parisian cafés contributed to the homey feel. It vaguely reminded her of her parents’ bakery as well, so it certainly lived up to its name.

Perhaps it was this sense of familiarity that had her and Alya reminiscing on how far they’d come. It hadn’t been that long since lycée or université—the two were only 22 and 23, respectively—but recalling the good times they’d shared was always fun to do.

Of course, their friendship had momentary blips (ahem, Lila), but the two had managed to sort out their problems eventually. Now that Alya had become more attuned to Marinette’s boundaries and there were no pressing superhero secrets to keep, they knew how to both ground and challenge each other in positive ways. Which was exactly what had caused Marinette to get herself into this situation.

While chattering about their lycée days, Alya poked fun at her once again for what had transpired on the day of the Animan akuma. How could she ever forget that while secretly masquerading as a superhero and locking her best friends in an empty gorilla habitat together, she had somehow helped them end up in a relationship? And now the two were engaged.

This topic somehow lead to Adrien and the stupid puns he spewed both in superhero and civilian form. Alya was insistent that Marinette was charmed by them at some point, to which she replied, No way! They were horrible. Even I could do better.

It was with twinkling eyes that her best friend asked “Bet?” and well, Marinette was never one to back down from a challenge. So after pulling out some spare cash from her purse and setting it down in front of Alya, she raised a brow.

A wicked smirk grew on her best friend’s face, and any lesser person would have faltered, but Marinette was prepared for anything that could possibly be thrown at her.

“Fine. If you’re so confident, I dare you to use a pick-up line on… him.”

As if on cue, the bell at the top of the glass-paneled wooden door jingled, and Marinette followed Alya’s pointed finger right on time to see a very attractive man walk through.

He had a confident stride, but not an arrogant one—his aura was one of someone who was assured and knew exactly what they were capable of.

Despite his seemingly laid-back disposition, she didn’t fail to notice how his eyes darted around the room cautiously, the same habit she had gotten used to doing after she had been given the Ladybug Miraculous. Then again, this was Gotham, so being on constant guard was only natural.

One thumb was hooked in the pocket of his jeans while the other moved up to ruffle his hair, and wow did he have nice hair.

It was perfectly coiffed, and if she didn’t have experience with hairstyling due to her career she would’ve thought it was as effortless as it looked. Most models would kill for the natural luster his locks seemed to have, and even from a distance she could tell that anyone who decided to run their fingers through his hair would be met with softness.

And she didn’t even want to get started on his face. From his glowing skin to his strong jaw and pretty eyes, she refused to believe someone so attractive could be real. It was unfair, really.

“...inette? Marinette? You good there, girl?”

A snap in front of her face broke Marinette out of her stupor, and she offered an instinctual yelp in response.

“What?”

Alya’s eyes twinkled knowingly, and Marinette shifted anxiously in her seat.

“You sure you weren’t checking him out?”

“Alya!”

Said girl let out a mischievous cackle at her hissed response.

“Now get over there!” she said, waving her hands around in a shooing motion.

Marinette glanced over to the line, where the man was no doubt giving the barista his order.

From what she could tell he was just about done, and she watched as he shuffled through his wallet to hand the barista a bill. But rather than proceed normally as most client-worker interactions would, his payment was met with wide eyes and flailing hands.

Marinette was much too far to discern what was being said, but from context clues she could deduct that he had just handed the barista quite a sizable amount. She had already guessed he was well-off from simply observing the quality of his clothes, but this was near confirmation.

It wasn’t as if status or wealth mattered much to her, but she did have a tendency to be wary of higher-class people due to past experiences with them. Being around them really wasn’t as pleasant as it seemed.

Her musing was interrupted when the man suddenly moved, relocating to the waiting line. There was her chance.

Marinette pushed herself out of her seat, steeling herself and lifting her chin high. This was no biggie. All she had to do was somehow convince this gorgeous man to give her his number by making a crappy pick-up line and a pun on the spot. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t done before, but this felt different, probably because it was a total stranger she was about to attempt it on.

She felt Alya’s gaze trailing after her with each step, and Marinette reminded herself that she absolutely had to succeed or she would never hear the end of it.

The closer she got, however, the more her confidence died. Apparently she had made a major miscalculation while gauging her probability of success, because she hadn’t accounted for the brain spasm she was currently having. Why, oh why did he have to be so cute?

Marinette had the sinking feeling that she was about to majorly embarrass herself, but she was determined to win. Screw embarrassment—she was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. All the trouble she had gotten into with Alix and Kim as kids had prepared her for this very moment. Nothing mattered besides victory.

So she sauntered up confidently, stopping right in front of her target.

“Hey, you must be Batman’s sidekick.”

“What?”

The man’s head snapped towards her, and Marinette didn’t fail to notice the subtle defensive stance he took. Years of hero experience had made her more perceptive towards these things—it was part of the job, after all. She filed the information away in the back of her mind, making a mental note to dissect all that later. Her priority was winning the bet—and oh, right, she still had to finish that pick-up line.

“...because you’re Robin my heart.”

The quip was accompanied by an uncharacteristically roguish smile, à la Chat Noir. She’d give herself a solid 10/10 points on delivery.

Her target seemed to agree with the verdict, because after a split second of shocked silence, he burst into full-bodied laughter.

The instantaneous shift in demeanor nearly caught her off-guard, but she was too occupied by the bright smile on his face and his melodic chuckle to notice. It was light and carefree, and she couldn’t help but crack a small smile as a result.

The only problem was that the laughter didn’t end, though, and she felt her face heat up more as the seconds ticked by.

Oh, Kwami.

Marinette buried her face into her hands with a soft groan, wishing the ground could just open up and swallow her whole.

She knew it wasn’t the greatest pick-up line ever, but she didn’t think her attempt warranted that much amusement.

The laugher ceased abruptly, and she peeked through her fingers in time to see the man quickly sober up.

“Sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you!”

A pause.

“Okay, not exactly. I just—wow, that was a great pick-up line.”

She slowly lowered her hands, though she kept her head down to peer at him through her lashes.

“Did it work?”

He chuckled and offered her a bright smile that made her blush like a high schooler with a massive crush.

“Yeah, you can tell your friend over there that you won your bet.”

If it was even possible, she turned redder.

“What? How…”

At the mention of Alya, Marinette sent a quick glance to their café table only to find that she was doing absolutely nothing to hide her rapt attention. She quickly caught on to the fact that they were looking her way and sent a very obvious thumbs-up and wink.

Oh, I am so going to kill her later!

But Marinette’s momentary vexation made way for embarrassment as the gravity of the situation hit her.

“I guess I wasn’t exactly subtle, huh?”

“Yeah,” the handsome stranger shrugged. “You probably could have been more discreet. But I liked it.”

“Okay, that’s the second time you’ve said that, but I have a hard time believing you. You can’t possibly tell me that you actually enjoy puns.”

“So I’m guessing I shouldn’t tell you that meeting you was a fortuitous aster?”

“Aster? As in the opposite of disaster?” she wrinkled her nose.

“You got it!”

Marinette rolled her eyes in exasperation, though the upwards tug at the corner of her lips betrayed her true feelings.

“Careful there, or you’ll be the one Robin my heart.”

She’d never admit to it, but she flushed a tiny bit before straightening up in realization. Hey, she was supposed to be the one doing the wooing here!

But before she could open her mouth to respond, her companion beat her to it.

“Since you’re stealing something so dear to me, I think it’s only fair that I get my thief’s name in exchange.”

He was clever, she had to admit.

“Marinette,” she proffered.

“Dick.”

She blinked in surprise at the seemingly random obscenity before it clicked.

“Oh, that’s your name!”

The words tumbled forward, and once she realized what she had said, Marinette tried to frantically backpedal. Her spilled apologies didn’t seem to be necessary, though, because that mesmerizing laugh came back.

“No, it’s fine, I get that a lot,” he breathed between chuckles.

She brightened immediately, glad she hadn’t offended him or embarrassed herself too much.

“Well, since I’m already taking something from you, may I steal your number as well?”

“Only if I can do the same.”

Her inquiry was met with a grin, and the two exchanged phones to type in their respective numbers. Marinette’s found its way back into her hand shortly after, and moments after she pocketed it the call of “medium espresso and beignets!” broke the quiet ambience.

“Well, that’s my order,” Dick said, words weighted by a silent apology. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have a few things I need to take care of. Maybe we can meet up later this week?”

The end of his sentence lilted up in hope, and Marinette found her chest warming with affection.

“I’d like that.”

She bid him goodbye with a smile and a wave and quickly tacked on an “I’ll text you later!” in afterthought.

She’d forever deny squealing giddily as she unceremoniously dragged Alya out from her seat and through the café doors, but the sound didn’t escape Dick’s attention—or his enhanced hearing, courtesy of Bat-Tech.

As he watched her leave with Alya, a smile slowly spread across his face at the thought of seeing her again.

Yeah, he sighed to himself. She’s definitely Robin my heart.

-

PERMANENT TAGLIST *@astoriaandromeda @avengerthewarrior *@bluesimani @enternalempires @flower-girll @freesportspalacesalad @glastwime859 @h1sss @heart-charming @iloontjeboontje @jayjayspixiepop @jalaluvsu @kitsunebell @maskedpainter @moongoddesskiana @nathleigh @no-username2544 @too0bsessedformyowngood @ultimatetornshipper

[goingsparebutwithprecision]

The Right Man For The Job

In which the Council makes a stupid-ass decision, and is ignored...sort of.

The moment the Council door closes behind them Anakin turns to Obi-Wan.

"No."

"I didn't even say anything!"

"You didn't have to," Obi-Wan says, nodding to the knight waiting their turn outside for a grilling. "I know that face. I watched you grow into that face."

Anakin dances in front of him, walking backwards with an easy grace that's neatly disguised by the clownish flailing he's doing with his arms.

"Listen," he says. "This is going to be a total disaster. You know this is going to be a total disaster."

"The Council's decision has been made," Obi-Wan says, which Anakin knows is not a no, if the way his mouth twitches is anything to go by.

"Master, you were there," Anakin says. "I know you saw that shuttlewreck."

"I cannot imagine what you mean, padawan," Obi-Wan says, with complete seriousness.

"You're so full of shit," Anakin says, ignoring with practice the scandalised look he gets from the nearest passing Jedi. Obi-Wan bows to them as they pass, so politely that it's skirting the line of mocking. "Please, master, have mercy. If I have to hold another conversation with her I’ll die. I will literally die. I'll be the first Jedi ever to die of embarrassment and then you'll be so embarrassed that you'll keel over too and then Master Yoda won't be able to stand the shame -"

"You'll live," Obi-Wan says, dryly. "You might try keeping that mouth of yours shut, a little more often."

"I can't help it!" Anakin says, "it just happens! It's a near terminal case of foot-in-mouth disease."

"Perhaps you'd better see a healer," Obi-Wan says, "I'd hate to have to find a new padawan at such short notice. One who doesn't fill our quarters with smoking droid parts."

"Don't be ridiculous, they never smoke," Anakin says. "Ooze, maybe. Spark, sometimes. And you'd be bored without the occasional explosion, master, don't lie to me."

"Goodness, boredom," Obi-Wan says, "that dear old acquaintance. It feels like it's been years. I miss him."

"Seriously, master," Anakin says.

"Seriously, padawan," Obi-Wan says. "We're not going to disobey the Council just so you can avoid your crush. Persuade me."

This is an old game, worn and familiar; arguing each and every side of an issue, the ones you believe and the ones you don't, until you've covered all ground and considered every avenue. It makes Anakin stop and think, and it stops Obi-Wan retreating into the arms of that favoured mistress of smug old Jedi Masters, because I said so.

"Ok, listen," Anakin says, "hear me out."

It's also extremely funny.

"Firstly, it makes sound tactical sense."

Obi-Wan raises his eyebrows.

"I can't protect the senator if I'm too busy trying to drown myself in the nearest fountain every time she so much as breathes near me," Anakin, quite reasonably, points out.

"It would add a certain level of unnecessary challenge," Obi-Wan says, stroking his beard. "But surely not too much for the Chosen One."

"Bite me," says Anakin, and a passing padawan walks into a pillar.

Obi-Wan has to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Anakin ignores him.

"Secondly, Padmé actually likes you," Anakin says. "She remembers you from the battle. She respects your skills. Me she still thinks of as a snotty kid."

"A charmingly snotty kid," Obi-Wan says, "don't sell yourself short, oh padawan-mine."

"Die in a fire," Anakin says, cheerfully. "She won't listen to me if I tell her to do something. And I'll just follow her like a besotted bantha-calf if she tells me."

Unfortunately, Obi-Wan thinks, he does have a point. His padawan is perfectly capable of disobedience if he exerts himself, but he'll hardly make the effort if he's being asked to something he wants to do anyway. As attested by the "use the senator as bait" fiasco of the previous evening.

"I'm flattered you think a woman who has ignored with perfect equanimity two supreme chancellors, the entire Jedi Council and Qui-Gon Jinn will somehow deign to do as I tell her," Obi-Wan says, rather than address that, "but I concede the point."

"Oh, she won't," Anakin says, "but she'll at least pretend to listen to you first, which gives Captain Typho time to scruff her and carry her off to a secure location by her extremely fancy collar before some other lowlife gets a shot off."

"He wouldn't," Obi-Wan says, though he's grinning a little at the thought.

"You never know unless you ask," Anakin says, sententiously, and then ruins the effect by smirking.

"Thirdly," he finishes, "if you go with the senator, you won't have to do any flying."

Obi-Wan thinks about it.

"Fine," he says, "but you call me the second you find something, alright? Don't go haring off into danger on your own."

"I learned it all from you, master."

"Slander and lies."

"And, master?"

"Yes, padawan?"

Anakin doesn't meet his eyes.

"If you...maybe."

"Get a chance to make a little detour?" Obi-Wan asks, lightly.

"Yes master," Anakin says, still looking at the floor. It's the closest he's looked to a contrite Jedi padawan since they arrived back at the temple. Obi-Wan finds he doesn't like it, much.

"I'll see what I can do."

[louiszeastronaut]

“𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎... 𝙸 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞” - Tom Riddle x y/n

Note: So basically, I took the dialogues from a scene in Little Women, when Laurie proposes to Jo, but she rejects. Then I replaced the two characters with y/n and Tom. I tweaked some sentences in the dialogues, and wrote the sentences outside of the dialogues with my own words just to make it fit the story... I haven’t finished it (3/26/21 I guess I finished it?) because I wanted to know if you all think I should continue or not. Idk what this is man lol.

Warnings: terrible grammar and punctuation mistakes :)) Word Count: 1,447

March 19, 2021

    “Penelope married” you said aloud.

    “Nanette of to Europe.” there was a brief pause between you and Tom.

     “And now that you’re a graduate you’ll be off on a long holiday” you continued, panting as you walked down the sloping hill.

    “I’m not good like Padma, so I’m angry and I’m restless.”

    “You don’t have to stay here y/n” he suggested

    “Why?”      “Should we run off and join a pirate ship?” You joked, turning your attention back to him, grinning at yourself. You peered at him just after laying your eyes on the orange and red maple trees that lie so vibrantly, and vastly ahead of you. Then you saw his solemn face. And yours fell into a yearning grave of its own.

    “No. No…”  you stared blankly at him, knowing what he’s hinting at.

    “It’s no use y/n” he reached for your hands, but you neglected it and pulled away “Y/n we’ve got to have it out…”

    “No please don’t-

    “I have loved you ever since I’ve known you y/n I couldn’t help it!”

    “Tom… no-

    “A-and I tried to show you, and you wouldn’t let me, even though I struggle to show it to anyone-

   “But I must make you hear it now, and give me an answer because-” he said through a weighted sigh, “Because I cannot  go on like this any longer y/n!”

   “No..”

  “I gave up the dark arts, I gave up everything you didn’t like, I’m happy I did. It’s fine. And I waited and I never complained!” He cried aloud, spectacles of tears starts forming in his eyes, then rolling down his pale cheek.

    “Cause I-“ he paused, face angry and flustered that he’s showing his rather pathetic side to you, and letting the fact that he’s showing this just to profess his love, is absolutely harrowing and ludicrous! Even for him. But he can’t seem to hinder himself away from it, nor does he feel like he has to, because at this point he had to finish what he didn’t originally appointed to say.       “Cause I figured you’d love me y/n!” He yelled.

    “A-and I realized I’m not half as good enough-

    “No! Yes you are!” You exclaimed back.

     “And I’m not this great man, and-

     “No! No Tom, yes you are!” “You are.” He stopped talking, catching his breath so you finally had your turn of say.

     “You’re a great deal too good for me” you say as you pointed your finger on his chest, nudging it reassuringly. “And I’m so grateful to you. And I’m so proud of you and- and I just don’t see why I can’t love as you want me to“ you pleaded. “I don’t know why”

       “You can’t?” Tom asked in a whisper, his eyes darted away as you hear the echo in his voice.

       “No… I can’t- I can’t change how I feel. And it would be a lie to say that I do, when I don’t”

       “I’m so sorry Tom-“ your eyes still fixed on him, you could see him thinking, biting the insides of his cheek. “I’m so sorry” you repeated more imploringly. “But I just can’t help it…”

        “I can’t love anyone else y/n I only love you” he admitted

         “Tom it would be a disaster if we were married, okay?”

         “It wouldn’t be a disaster!” He argued

          “We’d be miserable-

          “GOD BE A PERFECT SAINT!” He yelled

           “I CAN’T! I can’t! I’ve tried it- and I’ve failed!” you exclaimed, your words trembling in the end. You realized you were staring directly through his cold grey eyes, used to be full of depth and sudden rupture, but now clouded with his blinded feelings that you can’t help but hopelessly deny. Both of you let the words hang over the air for a while...

           “Why does everyone expect it then?!” He continued, “Why does your family and my friends expect it?!”

           “Why are you saying this?! Say yes-“ he nudged his hand forward, offering you something you have stubbornly refused many times in this feud “And let’s be happy together.”

          “I can’t say yes truly. So I’m not gonna say it at all. And you’ll see that I’m right eventually and you’ll thank me for it“ you explained grabbing ahold of both his freezing hands in front of you, making sure he understood where you’re coming from. Your clutch loosened as he writhes away from hands.

         He breathed out more heavily than before, head shaking, headspace nowhere to be found. He was tired of rambling and letting his words foam out of his mouth. It was quiet for a brief moment that it felt like everything around you suddenly vanished, and you two were left alone with only your souls crying out to be heard by the other. The air was taut and quiet, that you noticed his uneven breathing patterns, and only then you recognized that your heart was beating the same way. Beat. Breath. Beat… Breath… Beat…..

       “I’d rather hang myself then realize this y/n.” He broke the silence.

        “Tom-“

       “I would rather be dead.”

       “Tom don’t say that!” you bellowed wearily. He put his hands in his pocket and started walking away. You could see his jaw clenching, you’ve learned from your time spent being with him that he does this only when he’s angry. But, not like this. He’s still trudging even more further down the hill, his shoulders bouncing as gravity pulled him down, so you had to catch up.         “Tom, listen...” “You’ll find some lovely accomplished girl!” you say as you flailed your arm in the air, then reach up to grasp his shoulder from behind, while resting your other hand on his tensed back. Only to find him tearing his arm away from your touch, rather harshly. You felt his hurt. You felt guilty for ever making anyone feel this way. Especially if that ‘anyone’ is him.

        “Who will love you and adore you, and- and she’ll make a fine mistress for your fine house! But I wouldn’t alright?!” 

        “Yes you would y/n...”

        “Tom. Tom- look at me!”  “I’m homely, and I’m awkward, and I’m odd!” 

         “I love you y/n....” Tom said in a monotone voice, watching you play out and degrade yourself as what you think your negative qualities are, just so that you could point out to him why you think you two shouldn’t be together. 

         “And you’d be ashamed me of me-” you added

         “I love you y/n.” He interrupted, repeating the same words but more clamorously this time.            “And-and we would quarrel, we can’t help it even now!!!” you shouted, later noticing how unapologetically you sounded. You wanted to keep talking but you decided to stop to catch your breath first. You could feel the burn rising in your throat from yelling, but you continued on.           “I’d hate elegant society, you’d hate my scribbling... and we would be unhappy, and we wished we hadn’t done it! And- and everything will be horrid-” You ranted. You opened your mouth again to say something but decided against it. Now, you’re looking down at the ground as you think how you might’ve made the situation even worse. You can’t imagine what Tom’s feeling right now... for all you know this was the only time he has ever confessed his bigger emotions that you didn’t know he had.                  “Anything more?” He inquired, laying his eyes upon you after looking away for a few seconds.            “No...” you answered,“Nothing more...”

          “Alright.” He whispered while nodding simultaneously, clenching his jaw again. He hiked up the hill slowly, dragging his feet along the sharp grass.

           “Except that-” you appended, not knowing what choice of words you should declare next. As you searched your thoughts, asking your own brain to form the correct words, Tom shot his head back quickly. Bobbing his head along as he approached you again, as if he was waiting for you to say that you might feel even the slightest bit of devotion that you are willing to give to him in that tethered heart of yours. Unfortunately for him, still, that’s not what you’re after.

       “Tom...” you started “Tom- I don’t believe I will ever marry...” you dismissed through a forlorn scoff, admitting this to yourself and to him for the first time because you believed that that’s where your fate have destined you.         “I am happy as I am, and I love my liberty to well to be in any hurry to give it up”

       “I think you’re wrong about that y/n...

       “No...

        “I think you will marry y/n.” 

        “I think you’ll find someone and love them, and you’ll live and die for them because that’s your way and you will...

        “And I’ll watch”

(Finished?)

[inb4belphienaps]

crying over spilt milk

warnings: none word count: 2285

“Truth be told, I’ve been having these dreams. Dreams almost of another life, a past life perhaps. One that I’d lived and seen and breathed through at some distant point in time.”

I read over my words, holding the letter in my hands.

“They are, by far, the most intricate and detailed dreams I’ve ever had. Usually, I don’t remember them. But these…these feel too real, too specific, too thought out to be anything except something akin to memories of a bygone era.”

I recall a few of them with some difficulty. That was always how dreams worked, like trying to grab mist with your bare hands and having nothing tangible left as evidence.

“Shall I confess?

They have now become a source of entertainment for me, having increasingly rooted themselves in my mind, to the extent that I find myself looking forward to (for lack of better phrasing) the ‘next installment’.

It’s bizarre, I’ll admit. How eager I am to get to sleep as soon as the clock shifts from afternoon to evening, when the hour hand turns to six and I wonder if I’ll see him again…”

.

.

.

as you slowly float back up to the surface, the first sound that hits you is the singing of birds. their bright and cheerful chirps filter in with a hint of irony. though they're pleasant, quietened by the curtains hanging over the windows, it means that it's still rather early.

there's a chill in the air and you turn over under your duvet, tucking your feet in further towards your knees, eager to keep the warmth on your skin. and yet, you open your eyes, not needing to blink any sleep from them. oddly enough, you're more awake than you'd thought. whatever dream you'd been having is far from your mind as you bask in the scattered sunlight dancing on your walls.

such serenity ignites a type of mild excitement in you. and with that in mind, you will yourself to get out of bed.

you draw back the curtains and glance outside, looking out at the landscape, where the sun is shyly peeking over the hill. dawn is only just breaking and as you open a window, a gust of wind greets you, sending a rush of floral scents your way.

you can place notes of rose and lavender, and maybe honeysuckle too. the scenery is beautiful, and you lean against the ledge to admire it. clear skies and waves of green, dotted here and there with reds and pinks and yellows. there's a calmness to the color and vibrancy. something you hadn't stopped to feel in a long time.

it stays in the background. while you pour yourself some tea and sit down for breakfast, and when you turn on the radio to the crooning of some ballad you can't quite place. and even as you set about doing the laundry, humming every now and then to a tune only you seem to know.

the basket you use is one you've weaved yourself (in an attempt to be impassioned by a new hobby). it's small and sturdy and it does the job. you wonder whether it'll last you, hoping that if it breaks, it'll at least do you the favor of waiting until it's empty.

though it doesn't take long, you're startled to see the sun in the sky as you step onto the gravel path, basket in hand. it seems to stare down at you and wink as clouds roll overhead, creating capering shadows on the field as you start hanging the wet quilts one by one.

a couple of bees follow you around as you go about your business. and when you stand still to breathe in the smell of freshly washed linen and admire the warm glow cast on those sheets by the light, a butterfly flutters past.

it brings with it the distant ring of a bicycle bell. you look to the east where a man in uniform comes riding up the hill and the smile on your face could bring shame to the flowers lying near your feet.

"good morning", he says, slowing and stopping a foot or two away from you. he tilts his cap and you note the way in which his fringe barely covers his right eye.

"good morning", you reply. "it must be exhausting having to make that trip every day."

he laughs. it's sweet.

"i don't really mind."

in his hand he carries a metal basket and neatly arranged inside are six glass bottles full of milk.

"how many would you like today?", he asks, and you have the urge to tell him you'll take everything he has to offer. but of course, you don't say this aloud.

"just the one, please."

as he picks up one of the bottles to give to you, you swallow your spit and gesture towards your house. the shadows continue to dance above it, making it seem fluid despite its usual rigidity.

"can i get you something to drink? a coffee, perhaps?"

he appears taken aback, eyes widening a fraction before he smiles, and you feel your heart leap into your throat.

"i'd like that very much. a coffee sounds great."

you momentarily freeze, having expected him to refuse your offer. and then you're taking the bottle of milk and your basket back inside as he follows after you. you turn back to him as he enters and the sheets you'd hung flail slightly behind him, almost like a set of wings.

"cream and sugar?"

"um, no. but could i trouble you for some ice?"

an iced americano, you think. placing your basket on the floor and leaving your bottle on the kitchen counter, you busy yourself with preparing his beverage.

"my name is belphegor, by the way. i think you should at least know who it is that's been delivering you your milk."

you pause, having taken a mug out of the cupboard, and meet his gaze. his tone sounds a little indignant. were you simply being sensitive?

"it's a pleasure to officially meet you, belphegor."

the both of you exchange a shared laugh (the sudden bit of formality is embarrassing). he's the first to look away, breaking the eye contact that has goosebumps erupt on your skin. hm, perhaps you were overthinking things. only, the problem is that you're not sure you have any ice in the fridge.

"were you listening to music?"

"yes- oh", you say, confused at the static that greets you. "the program must've finished."

he glances at the radio and then at you. in your bid to locate the instant coffee you have, you don't notice.

through a strange coincidence, you find it sitting pretty on the top-most shelf of the pantry. you frown, wondering if you'd placed it there by mistake.

belphegor is about to open his mouth to speak again when he sees you reach upwards, fingers brushing across the jar mere centimeters out of your grasp. you're on your toes, leaning forward, barely balancing as you try your hardest to take it.

the man remains silent, watching you with a detached type of curiosity.

darn shelves, you think, as you stretch as far as you're physically able. still, the glass slips from between your fingers and you resort to stepping on a sack of flour. right as you grab it, the corner of the sack slides out from underneath your foot and you gasp, knowing all too well how this was going to end.

but there's a hand on your shoulder and a solid chest against your back, and a pleasant voice in your ear that suggests otherwise.

"so much trouble for a coffee."

his breath tickles the nape of your neck and you twist around to thank him, unprepared for the amused expression painting his face. from here, you can see every freckle, every eyelash, and every stray hair left untamed by his cap.

"you okay?", he asks, too close and quiet. too intimate that you forget yourself for a second.

"i'm...i'm fine."

those furrowed brows of his make you think twice and you place a hand to his chest, marveling in its warmth. you can feel his heart beat. it's steady, unfazed by whatever silly accident had happened just now.

"thanks", you mutter, swiftly removing yourself from his arms (firm and inviting). "i'll uhh...i'll make your iced americano, shall i?"

he doesn't say anything as you take a spoon and measure out the ground powder. and the silence lingers as you bring a pot of water to the boil. your thoughts, however, are that much louder, that much more pronounced. you were never one to invite strangers into your home. why was he such an exception?

"you can stop staring."

belphegor chuckles and you hate the fact that you can't ignore it. his laughter, it twinkles, and it has you looking at him all over again.

"i was keeping an eye out for you. in case you decide to make a habit of falling while i'm here."

you scoff, opening the fridge door to remove the ice tray. six cubes blink up at you and you ease three out, popping them into his mug in rapid succession. it's a tad violent and some of the coffee sloshes out onto the counter.

"thank you for your concern. but it's really not necessary."

he walks towards you, and you remain fixed on his bowtie, hoping to avoid being trapped by his alluring purple irises.

"if you say so."

and he takes a sip. and you find a cloth to wipe the spilt coffee with.

"it tastes good", he says. "maybe i should ask you to make me one every morning."

"tough luck", you reply, glancing at him as you clean. "i'm afraid this is the last of my hospitality."

besides, you didn't have it in you to continue acting an utter fool around him. something about his self-assuredness serves as the antithesis to your nervous energy, fueling it further to the point that you're doubtful about whether he'll return tomorrow.

"is that any way to talk to your knight in shining armor?"

oh. nevermind. that question makes you want to slap the handsome smirk off his face.

you give one last swipe of the counter, as if to stand your ground, and straighten up. yet it only leads to disaster.

the lonesome bottle of milk that you'd put atop it, comes crashing down onto the tiles, spraying its contents along every surface and scattering glass shards in its wake. the knot in your stomach tightens and you refuse to acknowledge the man who hasn't budged an inch.

he clicks his tongue and shakes his head.

"what am i going to do with you?"

as you stoop down to gather the glass, he mirrors you.

"i can-"

"it'll be faster with the two of us."

apparently, it's your turn to watch him. you slow your movements as you focus on his hands, how meticulously they pick up each broken shard and how conflicted you feel about him doing as such. in your daze, the edge of a particularly sharp fragment digs into your thumb and you flinch.

"fuck-"

he reacts before you do, tossing the glass he's holding into the bin and taking your hand in his to help you remove the fragment.

"this might sting", he mutters. that was the last thing on your mind. did this man have no sense of personal space?

the fragment is tossed out with the rest of what used to be the bottle and you're about to reluctantly thank him for a second time until he's bringing your thumb up to his mouth.

"wh- what are you doing?"

he suckles gently on the cut, putting a stop to the bleeding, and you're rendered speechless. when he speaks, all you can think about is his lips.

"can't you be more careful?"

"not with you here, no", you say, finally admitting to the reality that was beginning to suffocate you. you can't pay attention to anything other than him.

"figured it out, have you?"

"figured what out...?", you ask, leaning in as his voice drops to a whisper.

"you have a crush on me."

you stare, perplexed, and you tear your eyes away from his mouth to look at him. there's a secret lingering in his facade. of words unspoken and confessions kept hidden. what does he know?

"prove it", you mumble, perfectly aware of how ridiculous a demand that was.

except he obliges, closing the gap between the both of you and meeting your lips with his own. they're soft and as you snake your hands around his neck, his cap comes loose, falling to join the mess on the floor.

neither of you care to address it and he pulls you back up, hugging you to his front and wrapping his arms around you. it's intoxicating. bitterness lingers on his tongue and there's the faint taste of cigarettes. but you're kissing him like someone starved. or perhaps someone parched.

sparks fly beneath your eyelids and rouge caresses your cheeks. (or was it the ghost of his palm against them?)

there's a need, an intensity to the way he grips you and the way clenches his jaw when you tug at his hair. you match him blow for blow, digging your nails into his shoulder and moaning softly into the kiss.

when you part and rest your forehead against his, you're not the only one who's out of breath.

"belphie", you whisper and the look on his face is a mystery in itself – surprise and longing, haphazardly hidden behind a mask of indifference.

"thank god i brought another five bottles with me, huh?"

[giuliafc]

Deception

Ao3 || FFN

Written by: JuliaFC

Beta: Etoile-Lead-Sama, Lots_of_free_time, @rose-beagle-bagel

Summary: A new kid who looks exactly like Chat Noir has joined Collège Françoise Dupont. Marinette is worried, Adrien is jealous and Plagg… has the time of his life. Before the truth comes out, that is, and Ladybug purifies a very dangerous Amok.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by (c) Thomas Astruc, TS1 Bouygues, Disney Channel, Zagtoon, Toei Animation. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Written for the "Snippet July" challenge of the Miraculous Fanworks Discord server @miraculousfanworks AND for LadyNoir July @ladynoirjuly. Day 3 — Deception/Tease. Let me know what you think!

oOoOoOoOoOo

"I need to do something," muttered Adrien as he paced around the washroom. "I can't ignore it."

Plagg popped out of his shirt's pocket. "You could choose better places for your jealou—"

Adrien glared at him. "I'm not jealous!"

Plagg gave him a snarky look. "Riiight," he snarled.

"I just," muttered Adrien, starting to walk around again, "worry for my friend." Plagg stared blankly.

"She's in love with Chat Noir!" Plagg kept staring.

"I must warn her that Gad isn't Chat Noir." He scratched his nape. "I must protect her, even if it means revealing myself. She can keep a secr—"

Plagg put his paws up. "Okay, calm down! Why would you want to reveal yourself to Pigtails?"

Adrien looked at him as if he had grown two heads. "Because she thinks that Gad is Chat Noir?"

Plagg huffed. "And that bothers you becauuuuse?"

"Uh, nothing. Just... she's my friend." Adrien blushed. "I don't want her heart broken again."

Plagg smirked. "To be honest, I don't see anything wrong in Pigtails getting closer to this new kid. All he's done is have the same hairstyle as Chat Noir and say cat puns. So what, if your friend likes him?"

Adrien's hand flew to his nape, his previous blush growing darker. "Uuuuh… b-but she will be devastated when she finds out!"

"Why should she?" Plagg raised an amused eyebrow. "Unless, you tell her." The kwami smirked at Adrien's silence.

Adrien slouched his shoulders. "I don't want her to get with him, Plagg."

Plagg's smirk widened. "And you don't want to, becauuuuuuse...?"

Adrien growled again. "Shut up!" He marched out of the restroom, forcing the kwami to hide inside his shirt pocket, but when Adrien reached the locker room. Plagg noticed that nobody was around, so he came out.

The kwami looked at him sardonically, which only caused Adrien to sit down on one of the benches and hide his face. Plagg, however, still managed to get in front of his nose, and stared at him in silence.

"Okay, okay, I admit it I—" started Adrien, but before he could finish, the door of the locker room opened and he ducked behind a locker.

Marinette stormed in, immediately followed by Alya. Adrien squeezed against the wall and held his breath.

"Marinette? Why are you so terrified that Gad may be Chat Noir?"

Marinette turned towards her best friend, flailing her arms. "It's a disaster, Alya! I could hide my identity up to now because I've never interacted much with him out of the mask. But if I start spending all day with him in school, he may find out that I'm Ladybug!"

Adrien's world crashed.

He put a hand to his mouth, muffling a gasp. His knees failed him and his head started spinning. He needed to sit down, but instead, he leaned more strongly against the wall, his eyes shut full of tears.

"I think you're paranoid," groaned Alya, and then continued by lowering her voice, "I've been sitting next to you for a whole year and had no clue. He won't notice." She looked around. "Besides, maybe we should've checked if anybody was here before spilling secrets of this stance?"

Marinette looked around. "I can't see anyone."

"Trixx heard a gasp. Maybe we should check—" she said, but the bell rang, signaling they had to return to class.

When the door closed, Adrien let out the breath and allowed his body to slip down the wall, sitting on the cold floor. He was shaking.

Marinette was Ladybug. But this wasn't what had hit him like a punch in the stomach, no. It was the fact that ALYA knew. Marinette told her. She'd told her before telling him.

Adrien felt deceived. He didn't even stop the tears from flowing down his cheeks. His Lady revealed her identity to a civilian—ah, no, Alya mentioned Trixx, the kwami of illusion. She was Rena Rouge.

Why would she tell Rena and not him? How many other people knew? A sob erupted from Adrien's clenched throat and he hid his face behind his knees.

"Gamin?" Plagg put a paw on Adrien's head, but Adrien couldn't find comfort in it .

"Leave me alone!" shouted Adrien, continuing to sob.

It took a very long time. When the bell rang again, finally, Adrien's head emerged from behind his knees and the boy stood up, staggering.

"You don't look good, gamin. Go wash your face," whispered the kwami.

Adrien looked in his direction, but he wasn't seeing him. "It hurts, Plagg." His voice was groggy. "Why does she never trust me? I… feel so empty."

He walked towards the door and Plagg flew to his nose. "Listen to me. You need to wash your face and get yourself together or people are going to wonder which member of your family just died."

"I don't give a damn," spat Adrien. "I'm fed up with pretending everything is okay."

oOoOoOoOoOo

"Bye bye little feather!" whispered Ladybug. Chat Noir decided to wear his carefree mask, with sad eyes.

"So… who's confusing fantasy with reality now?" His smirk reached his eyes when Ladybug—Marinette!—blushed and looked away. "I can't believe that you fell for that poor imitation of my pawsome sense of humour, Ladybug."

The superheroine groaned. "Stop teasing me, chaton. I can't believe I fell for Lila's acting skills!"

"Well, there's only one way to never have this purr-oblem again, M'lady. You should ask to see me in all my maskless glory." He winked and held her hand as his Miraculous gave a beep. After dropping a soft kiss on her knuckles, his gaze trained into hers, he whispered in her ear, "But until you won't accept to do that, I'll need to s-cat." Then he leaned even closer and in a lower whisper, he finished, "Marinette."

"WHA—" She gasped, her eyes wide, her face pale.

"See you around!" He smirked at the terror in her face, picked his baton from his lower back and propelled himself away.

--------------------------------------------------------

Author's Note:

Here's day three. Unfortunately the story I wrote was way too long and I had to cut it, so bear with me, I may expand it later. I borrowed an idea I had for a much longer story, with Shadowmoth creating a sentimonster portraying a maskless Chat Noir because Lila had seen Chat Noir coming out of Marinette's balcony and had thought that Marinette was having a relationship with the superhero.

Hope you'll like it even if it's half the story I had planned, and thanks so much to CardCQ and lovelybuggg for the great help in cutting words around. We managed the impossible and the story is now 997 words ^^.

Please let me know what you thought by dropping a comment! You know that comments are my bread and butter!

Until (hopefully) tomorrow, bug out!

[crystalrose555]

Don't make me slap you pt 20

Oh boy, this one’s a long noodle~

“How about this one?”

“No.” “Ok, this one?” “No.”

“Levi, why did you bother tagging along if you are just going to turn down every outfit?”

“Because I still think that Marley shouldn’t go. She should stay home with me.”

“Over my dead body, Levi. This is one of the biggest parties of the year, anyone who's anyone is going to be there and Mochi and I are going to be stunning together~” Levi groaned as he looked around Majolish, seeing the vast amount of customers looking for clothing and outfits for the upcoming event. Meanwhile, Marley sighed as she placed clothing back on the rack and turned to the brothers.

“Yeah, I don’t think this is going to work. You demons sure are long, have any of you heard of the terms ‘plus and petite’?”

“See? Look, it’s fate, Marley and I are just going to stay home and marathon The Magical Ruri Hanai: Demon Girl.” Levi sharply proclaimed with a triumphant smile on his face.

Asmo gave a flat look at Levi before turning to Marley with a beaming smile.

“Mochi honey, why don’t we ask Levi to make your outfit?” Levi nearly choked on air as he realized what was happening.

“Wait, Levi, you know how to sew clothing?”

“Y-yeah, I just sew together cosplays and stuff, it’s not a big deal.”

“It’s a pretty big deal to me, all I can are patch-up jobs. It’s really impressive.” Marley smiled at the nervous demon.

Levi’s face quickly heated up as a crooked smile formed across his face. Asmo, seeing his brother falling for his bait, turned and held Marley close, sealing the deal.

“Don’t worry, Mochi, I’ll design something beautiful for you so that you don’t look like a costume disaster~”

“Like hell, normie! For your information, I’ve done custom requests that have won many cosplay competitions, so I can make something that will look great on her!”

“Oh really, then I assume you won’t need any help with Mochi’s measurements~”

“Her m-measurements?” Levi stammered out.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Alright, make sure you are all on your best behavior. This may be a party but I don’t want an incident like last time, do you hear me?”

“Oi, why are you starin’ at me when you say that?” “Because you are usually the first one to cause trouble.”

Lucifer sighed as he took a good look at his brothers in their polished demon forms. Surely, there will be a day when they would be able to carry themselves like proper lords of Devildom but sadly this party wasn’t one of them. He peered through his fingers and took a glance down to see a grumpy Marley who had a purple bow on top of her head for the occasion. He smirked at the sight and took his leave, disappearing into the crowd to go to Diavolo’s side in the far distance. His brothers took a sigh of relief while Marley tried to scratch off the stubborn accessory.

“It’s no use, Mochi. It’s enchanted to stay on during the party.” Satan declared while stroking his chin.

She just snorted at him, flipped on her back, and flailed about wildly on the floor. Spectators stared and giggled at the fuzzy animal flopping on the marble, leaving the demon brothers looking away in embarrassment. In a haste, Mammon squatted down to her while his brothers tried to block some of the gazes.

“Hey, it ain’t comin’ off, so quit flippin’ out like a fuckin’ tuna!” He barked.

Marley stopped and barked back at Mammon’s face, causing him to fall back on his bottom. At that exact time, Asmo turned up his natural charm and drew the eyes of all the spectators to his form. Satan sighed and gave a slight nod to Beel who then picked up the irritated seal and quickly walked off with her slapping against his forearm in annoyance.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Levi paced back and forth in a less crowded spot in the grand hall while Satan and Mammon stared at him in disapproval.

“Levi, will you stop? You’re going to wear out the floor at that rate.” Satan pointed out.

“Why am I the only one who’s worried? This is a major story event and it always gets crazy during story events!”

“Can you translate? I don’t speak nerd.” Mammon jeered.

“I’m saying something already went wrong! She shouldn’t need this long to shed her skin, she was dressed back at the house!” “Hmm, maybe that bow had a stronger effect than we thought.” Satan contemplated.

“Naw, that ain’t it, take a look.”

Suddenly, Mammon pointed in the distance, drawing his brothers’ attention to Asmo leading Marley to the opposite side of the room.

“That dirty double-crossing normie!” Levi hissed as he slithered through the crowd, leaving Satan and Mammon to follow.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Isn’t she the cutest when she’s next to me?” Asmo chimed as he held Marley tightly while showing her off.

Simeon and Solomon chuckled while Luke and Marley shared a sigh from Asmo’s enthusiasm of showing her off as much as possible. 

“Yes, she’s very lovely, Asmo, but maybe you would like to let your friend breathe on her own.” Simeon gently suggested.

Pouting, Asmo released Marley from his grip and then latched onto Solomon’s arm. Marley straightened up and gently straightened her outfit with a sigh of relief while everyone else gave into soft laughter.

“But truthfully, you look astonishing tonight, Marley. I take it that Asmo designed it himself?” Simeon pointed out.

Marley looked down at herself with slight embarrassment before answering.

“Levi and Asmo made it for me when we couldn’t find anything on the rack. I have to say that when I heard about a party, I wasn’t expecting this.” She claimed while looking around at the extravagant hall.

“Hmph, I guess demons can throw a pretty decent party once in a while.” Luke snarked. 

“Luke, don’t be rude, besides you’ve been eating everything from the desserts since we’ve got here.”

“Only for research! Besides, I wanted to see Mochi again since I can barely find her at school.” Luke stammered out with a red face.

“You really like Mochi, don’t you, Luke?” Simeon teased.

Luke turned his head with a hmph and rushed over to the dessert spread in the distance. Simeon shook his head and followed after him, leaving Marley alone with Asmo and Solomon chuckling. The music picked up and swelled as demons began to swarm the dance floor in couples. 

“Marley, any chance I can have your first dance?” Solomon asked with a smile.

Marley tilted her head gently to the side.

“I guess so but I don’t know how to waltz.”

“Don’t worry, Solomon is a great dancer, Marley. I’m leaving you in good hands, so have fun~”

With that, Asmo left the duo alone to attend to his admirers. Taking his hand, Marley followed Solomon to the dance floor and slowly joined the musical current that had trapped all the dancers. 

“See, you’re a natural Marley.”

“Really? I was worried I wouldn’t be able to keep up.” “I don’t think that’s what you’re really worried about. You’re worried that someone will recognize you from school, am I right? It would be bad for anyone to realize that you party-crashed this event.”

“I guess you got me there, but Levi and Asmo placed an enchantment on my dress to make me unrecognizable to everyone here unless I reveal myself to them.”

“I remember that spell, Asmo had me develop it so he could see what people say about him but that only lasted an hour or so before he wanted attention again.” He sighed causing Marley to chuckle.

“I have to admit, I’m having more fun dancing than I thought.” “I’m glad, it’s a lot easier to waltz on two feet than four flippers, huh?” “Yea-”

Marley’s mouth snapped shut as she shot a sharp glare on the white-haired sorcerer who smiled carelessly. Her grip tightened into a vice as cold air radiated from her body. Ice crystals started to form on Solomon’s shoulder as she dug her nails in.

“Easy, easy, that spell won’t last if you cause a scene,” Solomon warned with a smile.

Marley turned her head away from him, her eyes glanced over coldly.

“Come now, don’t give me the cold shoulder. I finally got a chance to talk to you. ” He chuckled.

“...How?”

“I had a bit of a feeling since seals aren’t common as witch familiars but Asmo confirmed my suspicions.”

Marley’s icy gaze returned along with her biting cold.

“Don’t be mad at Asmo, he had the best intentions. You want to go home, right? I’m surprised you lasted so long without returning to the sea but I guess hanging out with Leviathan has its advantages.”

The duo continued to dance and swirl while Marley remained silent.

“...What do you want then? There’s no reason for you to help me and you don’t seem the type to completely give in to Asmo.”

Solomon offered a warm smile in return.

“I just want a chance to talk with you, I’ve always wanted to meet a selkie. Your people are such rare creatures and whenever I find one, they always turn back into a seal and swim away.”

“Are you sure it isn’t the fact you’re a shady magician?”

“Come on, now that’s mean! ”Solomon laughed out hardily as they continued to spin.

[bcbdrums]

We Forget the World

A/N: Not a headcanon fic, just something I day-dreamed up one sleepy Saturday.

Happy birthday, @gofordrakgo!

Read on: FFn       AO3

-----------------------------------------

We Forget the World

Shego stepped through the large beach door of the Caribbean lair and barely heard it close behind her as she stepped over the lava rock, looking both ways in the misty twilight for her boss. Or former boss... Whatever they were now; she wasn't sure anymore.

Ever since Drakken had saved the world, they had been in limbo about what to do with themselves. As days turned to weeks, and weeks to months, Shego found herself no longer dressing in uniform, as each day was just...an extended vacation at home. It reminded her of her former days as a schoolteacher, when summer vacation consisted of endless afternoons on the sofa, watching "The Cost is Correct" re-runs and eating watermelon out of the rind.

The difference now was, occasionally a henchman in plain clothes would wander past, make awkward conversation, and then wander back to the nothing they were doing as well, as they hadn't been given any direction. And another change: Shego was seeing less and less of Drakken.

She had thought about it and finally realized that the biggest change had come when the instant celebrity he had attained through saving the world had faded almost immediately. There had initially been some buzz about potential research opportunities, grants, and other things exhorting his work not just in creating the plant formula that had saved them all, but his other work as well. But all of that had gone away within a few weeks' time, and the world seemed to have forgotten him again.

Shego looked down at the surf rolling rhythmically against the sand, the waters dark for the cloud cover that promised rain that evening. And then glancing further to her left down the beach, she noticed the distinct sign of footprints in the sand. She stepped out of her sandals and made to follow the trail, stepping into the damp sand herself and letting the sea foam wash over her feet. The breeze blew the dark teal skirts of her sundress behind her, and she closed her eyes for a moment and tilted her face into the cool of the wind, feeling it gently move her long, black tresses away from her her cheeks and shoulders.

Shego had supposed that with the promise of potential fame and fortune through legitimate means, Drakken would give up villainy. But he hadn't said anything one way or the other, and the seeming opportunities had all vanished like a vapor. Thus, the entire lair was in a state of stagnation. Paychecks were still signed and delivered to her and the henchmen, but the boss...the mad scientist they all served...was hardly ever to be seen, and never spoke of plans for even a meager bank heist, let alone world-domination.

Following his clear footprints in the sand, Shego eventually came to a discarded pair of shoes and socks, and his iconic lab coat, folded and lain upon a rock. She continued on, realizing suddenly she had no plan regarding what she would say to him. She attempted to run over some options in her mind, but everything came back to the same simple question: are they heroes or villains? And whichever they were...what was next?

Shego had discovered the truth within herself during the Lorwardian invasion, which had startled her at the time, but which she had also accepted with a surprising calm and swiftness—she would follow Drakken to the end. She hadn't explored the depths of that yet, only knowing the simple truth that she would never leave him. But with time passing she found herself curious to find clearer answers about that as well.

Rounding a large rocky outcropping, Shego finally spotted the man. He had his shirt sleeves rolled up past his elbows and his pant cuffs just above his ankles. His hands were on his hips, making his shoulder blades stand out even more than they already were for the Y-back suspenders accenting his masculine figure. As Shego got closer, she noticed the faintest sweat stains beneath the suspenders at his shoulders, suggesting he'd been out there since before the clouds had hidden the setting sun. He had also loosed his ponytail, and his shorter hair blew more freely in the wind than did her long tresses.

Shego took a breath as she continued toward him, not changing her pace as he was barely moving, staring ahead at nothing as he traversed the island's perimeter. What was she going to say when she reached him? Her mind was still completely blank.

The sky was dark for the rain-saturated clouds and would have blended in with the waters at the horizon but for the churning of the waves as the storm continued to roll in. Shego suddenly felt a shiver over her bare arms and legs despite the heat that always burned within her. She took a deep breath when she found herself within a few feet of Drakken and spoke the first words that came to her mind.

"Stay out here too long, you'll get struck by lightning."

"GAH!"

Long-used to his outbursts when she unintentionally (or intentionally) startled him, she only grinned when his leap into the air was even more dramatic than his scream. When he finished flailing and stumbled around to face her, his expression was furious with annoyance, but she could also see the distraction in his eyes that indicated he had been deep in thought.

"You can brood inside where it's safe," she continued, the mirth still in her voice, but softened a bit—why, she wasn't sure.

Drakken straightened and adjusted his collar where a couple of buttons had been opened to mediate the day's earlier heat.

"Why must you always do that?"

"Entertainment. There isn't anything else going on around here lately..." she said almost automatically, but regretted the words a moment later for the way Drakken's face fell and then became guarded.

"You, ah...have any ideas for our...next move?" Drakken asked cautiously, watching her with wary, wide eyes.

Shego set her hands on her hips. "This is your ship to steer. I'm just along for the ride."

Drakken's guarded expression didn't change, but Shego was sure she saw a tinge of disappointment in his eyes. She took a breath and continued.

"Why... You lose your compass?" she half-quipped, gesturing broadly to the roiling ocean and the dark skies.

Drakken's brow twisted in worry rather than annoyance, much to her surprise, and he turned to face the vastness of the sea, staring as his lips alternately pursed and thinned as he seemed to search for words.

None came. Shego took a step nearer.

"Drakken...?"

He took a long breath and released it slowly through his teeth, and Shego had the sudden impression he was trying to withhold some great emotion. He took a smaller breath, and then...

"No one wants me," he said quietly.

A half-dozen sarcastic quips came instantly to her mind, but something told her that to say any of them would be a worse disaster in that moment than an alien abduction beam.

"What do you mean?" she finally asked.

Drakken blinked in surprise and glanced at her uncertainly before continuing.

"The research positions...the television spots... No one is calling anymore. And when I call them, sometimes they say they'll call back...sometimes they say they're 'going in another direction.' It's all the same... The world changed its mind about me."

Shego felt something familiar in his words, even though she'd never heard them before.

"But everyone I know... All of the other villains don't want anything to do with me, now that I'm...a traitor," Drakken continued.

Shego wondered then if the other villains thought the same of her; that she was a traitor to evil for helping save the world. But that could be sorted out later, for the present problem was Drakken. And she was suddenly realizing at least some of what the problem was.

"We can't choose good or evil, anymore..." she said with quiet understanding. "Either way, we lose."

Drakken looked back at her, blinking in surprise as she had put it so succinctly.

"All I wanted...all I ever wanted was some recognition. My fair share. But..."

He trailed off again and took a few steps into the surf. After a moment Shego followed.

"Watch out for jellyfish... You know they show up more at this time of year."

Drakken was staring at the dark skies again, seemingly ignoring her words.

"Maybe they've all forgotten me because it...wasn't so big a feat, after all. Maybe I've...overrated myself."

Shego bit her tongue hard to keep from responding in jest, knowing it wasn't the moment for it. It took some effort, but she buried the instinctive caustic remarks and let him continue.

"It wasn't much, really... I guess I'm... I'm not that smart."

Shego glanced down at the shallow waves washing to their ankles, realizing only then that she'd stayed at his side as he'd walked into the surf. She took a breath and grimaced as she looked up at him again.

"Of course you are. And you know it. It doesn't matter who else knows it."

Drakken looked at her then, finally seeming to notice her.

"I know it," she added, looking straight at him. "Forget the world. They're ungrateful. They don't deserve you."

Shego moved to face him, her back to the waves. She pushed her hair over her shoulder as the breeze tried to move it into her face, holding his eye contact.

"And since when have we cared what other villains think? Not as if they've taken over the world, or done anything half as impressive as you over the years."

Drakken's expression suddenly became guarded.

"You...keep saying 'we,'" he said.

Shego realized she had been, but gave it no further thought and shrugged in response.

"Yeah."

For the first time in the almost four years that she'd known him, Drakken seemed to be at a loss for words. He took a step away from her, confusion falling over his features. He began pacing in a three foot square in front of her, looking at her and seeming to want to ask a dozen or more questions, but nothing ever leaving his lips.

As Shego watched him and waited, the 'we' she had kept saying and the resolve she already had that she would never leave Drakken suddenly began to blossom into to a new, deeper understanding. A smile slowly began to curl her lips upward.

"Dr. D.," she finally said, as quiet, incoherent mutterings had started to join his pacing.

He stopped and looked at her, the question strong in his eyes. She could no longer hold back the knowing smirk, but said nothing as she waited for him to come to the same understanding on his own. It wasn't long before a frightened determination took over his features, and then with a set frown he boldly approached her. His hands found her waist and pulled her flush to him, and despite herself a small gasp left her lips as her hands automatically moved to rest on his shoulders.

The fear in his eyes grew as she knew her smirk had faltered for the anxious fluttering that had taken over her chest. But she held his gaze and watched as his fear faded to wonder, though he was still uncertain. She was curious if her own uncertainty showed too.

After too long a moment, she swallowed nervously and moved her forearms to rest on his shoulders, bringing them closer.

"Well... You gonna continue this experiment, or what?" she asked.

Drakken's shoulders were rising with the quickening of his breaths, but after a moment he licked his lips once and then leaned in. Shego didn't hesitate to wrap her arms fully around his neck the instant his lips met hers, and she felt a warmth spread through her as his arms surrounded her possessively.

Shego hadn't...really considered this. But as the warmth flooded her entire being she knew it was right. How she hadn't seen it before was perplexing, but apparently he hadn't either. When their lips finally parted and they both panted for breath, noses still brushing, she felt the uncertainty that was still in his eyes. But despite herself, she grinned as a bubble of airy laughter escaped her lips.

"I think we're going to need more evidence for this experiment, Dr. D.," she breathed, moving the fingers of one hand into his hair, her nails gently scraping his scalp.

"Shego..." was his disbelieving response. But the uncertainty fled from his eyes to be replaced with the same joy she was feeling and that must have been evident on her face.

"I don't know about you but...I'm tired of sitting around doing nothing," she said, her smile unshakeable. "Think it's time we...started something new."

Drakken's jaw worked for a moment before settling into a smile, the silence uncharacteristic for the mad scientist. Shego blushed suddenly under his intense, adoring stare, but she held his gaze.

"I...think you're right," he finally said.

"I'm always right," she answered, rising on her toes to wrap her arms further around him and bring them even closer.

Drakken suddenly glanced away, his eyes looking past her at the vastness of the sea. Shego's brow rose in question, but in an instant his eyes were back on hers and a calm had settled within them.

"I'm done wasting time. Forget the world."

Shego's smile was so broad it hurt her cheeks, and it continued through the sweet kiss that followed, and every kiss after.

[waywardfangirl]

I was incredibly fortunate to get to write for the wonderful @fight-surrender in the Carry On Secret Snowflake exchange, and she gave some of the best prompts I've seen. I ended up choosing to write a meet-cute (a meet-ugly, really) that takes place on the beach and centers around Simon's new fixation on the supposed dangers lurking below the waves.

I have to give a giant thank you to @foolofabookwyrm and @caitybuglove23 for being excellent betas, cheerleaders, and for helping me get the fic formatted and posted when my computer stopped working - you guys are the best! 💜💜💜

You can read the fic below, or on AO3!

Simon

 

I've always wanted to go to the beach. Growing up in care, I never had the opportunity to, but now that Penny and I are done with university and enjoying weekends without the threat of homework hanging over our heads, I finally can. Of course, we don't live close to the beach, so our day trip took some planning, but it gave me time to look up all the best places to eat, and it gave Penny time to watch every possible documentary about the ocean. I watched a lot of them with her, and while I know I probably won't see all of the tropical fish that swam across our TV screen, I'm still really excited to see the ocean. 

 

Unfortunately, I also happened to be in the room while Penny watched some show called “Predators from the Deep”, or something along those lines, so my excitement is also tinged with trepidation (or outright fear) of some of the things lurking under the waves.

“Sharks aren’t anything to worry about, Simon! They don’t want to attack you, and the likelihood of even seeing a shark here is extremely low.”

 

“It’s not the sharks I’m worried about, Pen! It’s all of the other stuff, all those little parasites, and the poisonous things, and the spiny ones.” The documentary was filled with shadowy shots of spiked balls and spotted tentacles just waiting to attack some unsuspecting wader.

 

“Don’t eat any of it then,” she replies, hardly even paying attention to me as she smooths out her blanket and sets up the umbrella.

 

“What?”

 

“You said you were worried about the poisonous things, so just don’t eat anything you find in the ocean.”

 

“They can hurt me even if I don’t eat them! What about that one octopus?”

 

“That was venomous, not poisonous, there’s a difference.” She squirts sunscreen into her palms and then slaps them lightly onto my cheeks, not allowing me time to squirm away.

 

“Whatever, venomous then, there are still things to be scared of in there!”

 

Penny ducks under the arm I have flung out to point at the ocean with, and grabs two waters from our cooler.

 

“You’ll be fine Simon, I promise.” She shoves a bottle into my hands. “Rub in your sun cream, and let’s walk by the edge of the water, alright? You’ll like it, we can find shells!” She starts off, picking her way through the sand and looking back only once to make sure that I’m following her.

 

It turns out that the water feels quite nice, even soothing. The sounds of the waves and the feel of cool water splashing my ankles combine to make me feel safe. They make me forget about the horrors lurking off-shore.

Penny has a handful of shells and has started handing me others to put in the pocket of my swim shorts. I’ve found a few shells of my own too, but I stopped paying such close attention to the ground about ten minutes ago, when I noticed a man about our own age playing in the waves with his younger siblings.

 

He has dark hair, originally falling around his face but now wet with seawater and slicked back to emphasize his widow’s peak. He’s still too far away for me to tell what color his eyes are, but as Penny and I walk closer I’m able to make out more of his facial expressions. He seems to be putting on sneers for show and occasionally gives bright smiles for the younger kids swarming him. He’s wearing one of those long-sleeved swim shirts, but it’s clinging tight to his body. He looks like he could be a footballer with all of the muscles I can see, even at this distance.

 

I’ve been trying not to stare too openly at him, but I can’t really help it - there’s just something about him that keeps drawing me in.It’s almost as if I’m under some sort of spell or thrall. Right now though, I’m extremely glad I’ve been so captivated by him, because I seem to be the only person on the beach who realizes the danger we’re all in.

 

Curling around the man’s left ankle are the tentacles of an octopus, surely about to stick its fangs into him and inject him with its venom (or whatever it is octopuses do to kill people).

 

"Octopus!" I yell. I’m at a loss for any other words, but I’m desperately trying to warn Penny as I sprint off to rescue him.

 

"Ooh, where?" She doesn't sound nearly concerned enough for the looming threat of death hanging over us all, but I'll talk to her about taking proper safety precautions later. Right now, I have to go save the life of the prettiest person I've ever seen.

 

"Octopus! Octopus!" I can't seem to make any other phrases come out of my mouth, but eventually the man looks up to see me barreling towards him, flailing my arms and yelling at the top of my lungs. He raises an eyebrow at me, staying far too calm considering the mortal peril he's in, and glances behind him to see who else I could possibly be talking to.

 

Unfortunately, that means he's not paying attention enough to sidestep me when the combination of my momentum and adrenalin send me toppling into him. We both splash down into the small waves lapping at the sand and I scramble to extricate myself from his long limbs as quickly as possible, crawling down to examine his ankles and prepared to risk my own life if I have to pull the octopus off of him.

 

"What are you doing? " His voice is lovely and posh, the vowels round and smooth and expensive.

 

"Saving your life, mate, you're welcome by the way," I grunt as I make another unsuccessful grab for the tentacles.

 

"From what? All you've done so far is endanger me, pushing me down and holding me in the water." He pauses. "If this is your attempt at murder by drowning, I think I pity you. First, you caused a scene by yelling the whole way down the beach before you assaulted me, and now you're not even bothering to hold my head under this truly pathetic amount of water. You're an absolute disaster."

 

"I told you—" (why are these tentacles so hard to grab,) "I'm not trying to kill you, I'm trying to save you."

 

"Save me from what, exactly?"

 

Ha! I've got you now, evil cephalopod!

 

"This!"

 

I hold the octopus up in triumph, feeling the water drip onto my sodden hair.

 

"From… a clump of seaweed?"

 

"What? No. No, it's an octopus."

 

Slowly, I lower the mass in my hand down to eye level, and immediately I feel my cheeks flame in embarrassment.

 

"Oh. Right. Sorry, then."

 

I try to push back from him and stand up, but my hand won't release the seaweed (it really did look like an octopus!). When I try to move a wave hits me, washing the sand out from under my foot and making me flounder for a few moments, only compounding my embarrassment. When I finally look up at the man I accidentally assaulted, he seems entirely unbothered by anything. He's lounging back on his elbows, somehow managing to look down his nose at me even though I'm sitting up fully now, and it's simply unfair how defined his abs are, even under his shirt.

 

"Do you make a habit of doing things like this?"

 

His eyes are too intense for me to look at any longer, they're a grey color that seems to be shifting to reflect the ocean behind me, and I have to busy myself with peeling the green fronds of seaweed away from my fingers.

 

"Like what?"

 

"Attacking strangers or playing the hero, take your pick."

 

"Sorry. I thought it was an octopus and I didn't want you to die," I mumble. This prick should be grateful, where does he get off being so smug anyway?

 

"Why on earth would I have died from an octopus touching me?"

 

"Because they're one of the most deadly creatures on earth!"

 

"What? No they're not. Not the ones around here, anyway. The blue ringed octopus is incredibly deadly, but it lives in the Pacific Ocean."

 

"But, couldn't they-"

 

He levels me with a look that could probably set me on fire.

 

"Mordelia!" One of the children comes running over from where they fled when I tackled their brother. She looks to be about twelve or thirteen, and while she isn't quite as dark and villainous looking as her brother she still has his same air of superiority. "Does this gentleman need to be worried about being attacked, maimed, or killed by any octopuses while swimming today?"

 

This kid - Mordelia, I guess - levels me with the most condescending look I have ever seen, and just scoffs . Actually scoffs at me, like I'm an imbecile. (Although, I still have seaweed stuck to me, so she may be onto something there.)

 

"No. Most accounts of cephalopod attacks can't be proven, and the few that have been entirely substantiated occurred in vastly different habitats or under circumstances that this beach couldn't support."

 

With that, she turns and runs back to the rest of her family, leaving me with only a parting eye roll.

 

"She's going through a marine biology phase."

 

It's the first thing the dark haired man has said to me in a casual manner, and I startle a bit. 

 

"Did you also have a marine biology phase?"

 

I think my question catches him off-guard, and I smirk.

 

"Perhaps," he answers after a beat. "But Mordelia's has been going on for three years now, so we think it may actually stick. Mine dried up after only a few months."

 

He smiles at me for the first time since I knocked him over, and it's almost painful how handsome he is, sprawled out elegantly on the beach like he's in an ad for expensive watches or cologne or something, and I can't believe I tackled him because of some stupid seaweed.

 

"I had a dinosaur phase," I confess, smiling back at him.

 

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" I reach down to help him up, and I'm shocked at how cold his fingers are, and how much I want to warm them up in my own. It's too bad I made such a horrible first impression, I would otherwise be sorely tempted to ask him out on a date. "What's your name, by the way? You've already attacked me, had we been in cars we would have exchanged names and proofs of insurance by now."

 

I’m such a mess. I didn't even think to ask what his name was.

 

"Simon. I'm Simon."

 

I go to shake his hand, and then realize that we're still holding hands, and I feel my cheeks grow redder still.

 

"Hello Simon, I'm Baz. It's nice to meet you, although the next time we meet I sincerely hope you can refrain from throwing yourself quite so bodily at me before we've even said hello."

 

"Yeah, umm, I'm sorry, really, I-" My brain catches up with my mouth. "Wait, did you say next time? "

 

His mouth curls up into a grin, and he gives my hand a squeeze as I try to figure out how I messed up so badly and things still worked out so well.

 

"Of course. For our first date, perhaps we can go to the aquarium and you can see what an octopus really looks like."

[aelin-queen-of-terrasen]

Could you please write “‘i didn’t want to tell my friend who my real date last night was so i just pointed at a random stranger (you) but now they’re storming over to interrogate you and you’re playing along??? okay’ au”. Jurdan?

Sorry for the late, hope you'll like it!

chapter - two | beautiful disaster

Full Masterlist

Beautiful Disaster Masterlist

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I've been in the club for a half hour now and I already wish I wasn't here.

Vivienne ditched me in favour of dancing two minutes after we arrived; funny how she is the one who insisted we need more 'sister time.'

"I'm bored," I complain when she gets off the dance floor. "I wish you'd let me leave—it's not like I'm having fun."

Taryn is beside her, looking a little too drunk herself. She clings to Vivienne like a timid child to her mother, eyes wide as saucers and an awestruck expression on her face—I don't know what she's pleased about. She stumbles towards the bar, ordering more drinks. Vivienne turns to me, expression purposeful and determined.

She says, "We barely see you! You're always out—even dad doesn't know where you are." Her words sound like a lament, though I'm almost sure she doesn't notice my absence often and if she does, it doesn't bothers her enough to enquire after me when we're both sober, apparently.

"I know where she is all the time," Taryn tells the two of them, a giggle escaping her lips. "I know your secret, Jude."

I stiffen, but manage to keep my face nonchalant and voice amused, unaffected. "You do now, do you?" It's almost to easy to lie now, to speak half truths, to be deceitful and clever and guarded all the time. It should bother me but it doesn't. I'm too scared she knows I'm working for Dain, too scared Madoc could find out and gods know what he'll do when he does.

Taryn nods. "I saw you sneaking out of the house at nights!" Then, she giggles, "I know you have a secret lover."

I relax, tension released from my muscles when the words settle in. She thinks I have a secret lover, which isn't that far off but my real secret is safe. A blush creeps onto my cheeks as I think of Dain, my apparent secret lover and boss. I can never tell when we went from thinking of each other as best friends to lovers but he's one of the very few people I almost trust.

"You have to tell us who it is, Jude," Vivi says, clapping in excitement. She's ridiculous. "Oriana will be so happy!"

I stare in horror. I don't like where this is going. I can't tell them who I'm sneaking off with but I can't deny their suspicions lest they follow me out on my nightly escapades someday.

The two of them cheer loudly, drawing some attention and shouting 'Tell us!' in chorus when I see him.

"Cardan," his name escapes my lips in surprise, quieting the loud pair. Then I realise what it sounded like, and I rush to correct them but it's too late. Neither of them wants to hear much now.

"Ohmygod, Cardan Greenbriar?!"

"I suppose they have the whole enemies to lovers thing going from them," Vivi tells my twin sister.

"He's so cute."

"I don't even—" Jude is cut off by Vivienne's answering squeal.

"Think of all the double dates—" everyone is looking over at us, "and Madoc will be furious, that's a plus."

Taryn hums her agreement. "That's why Jude can't tell Madoc, isn't it? But Jude, we'd never tell him—" and her words are cut off with a sharp gasp when their eyes land on the entrance, and they notice him leaning against the wall.

His eyes are fixed elsewhere, but then they sweep around the whole room and land on me. Faintly, I can hear my sister's teasing comments but it sounds so far away, and he seems like he is too close for comfort. I wonder how he can do that—make me feel like the world is collapsing around me with all but one look; how he can intimidate me without ever coming close.

"Aw, they're making fuck me eyes at each other," one of my sisters coo.

Entirely too fast, he's gone from my sight and I come back to reality. I drown out all comments about him, giving vague, evasive answers to each question. It feels like he's still looking at me with that impenetrable gaze, though he's nowhere to be seen.

I fetch us some drinks, and soon find other topics to converse about. I'm hoping they've forgotten our conversation, when I stumble upon a sight that makes my heart stop dead inside my chest. He's standing there with a drink in his hand, and from the opposite side of the dance floor, my sisters make their way towards him.

I run towards him, pushing through the crowd. I stumble, almost falling into him and he rolls his eyes. "Falling again, Jude? This is the second—"

I hold up a hand. "Shh, you have to leave—my sisters think we're—" but before I can make my request of Cardan Greenbriar, my sisters have arrive. I can't let them know I lied—they'd wonder what I'm hiding from them and it won't end well. I have too many secrets to protect.

"Cardan Greenbriar," Taryn breathes out. She sounds a little starstruck.

Cardan narrows his eyes at the newcomers, an amused expression on his face. In front of his graceful manner and controlled movements, everyone else looks like a fish flailing in the air. He doesn't have that cruel gleam on his face, but I stay on my guard. Whatever my grievances with my sisters, I can't help being protective of them.

He says, "You didn't tell me you had such a pretty sister, Jude."

Taryn flushes at the compliment, and I wonder what he's playing at—or if, perhaps, this is another attempt to rile me. "We're twins," I mutter under my breath, though it comes out louder than intended and he hears me.

"Of course you'd find Taryn pretty—she looks like Jude, after all." Vivienne smirks, "You don't need to pretend. Jude told us everything."

"She did?" He can't hide the confusion from his face, but it's gone in a minute.

"Yes! I'm glad you're dating Jude. Just know if you hurt her, well, she'll hurt you back worse so..." she trails off with a sweet smile. I didn't know when my eldest sister got so scary, but she looks positively terrifying now.

"Dating? Jude?" Cardan quirks an eyebrow at me. "Yes, I'm, uh, doing that. Am I not, sweet Jude? I'd never hurt her, not unless she asks me to," he grins at his innuendo, sending my sisters cackling too. I can't bring myself to share their amusement, too busy wondering what he's playing at.

"Aw, he's blushing!" Taryn coos at him, words near slurred. "When did this happen? Why didn't we know? Ooh, Jude, how long have you been fucking? Wait, have you even had sex—" Vivienne interrupts my twin's barrage of questions with an apologetic smile and a quick 'you both should make a date night out of this' leaving me alone with my worst nemesis.

The moment my sisters are out of sight, he cocks his head to the side. "Jude. Am I supposed to know what that was about or will you explain?" There's no sneer in his voice, just curiosity with a touch of amusement.

"A misunderstanding," I clear my throat. "They wanted to know, uhh, who I'm dating, and I looked here and they assumed it was you."

His lips twitch upwards, as if he's entertained by my reply. I bristle at the mocking look, but I know my anger will only provide him satisfaction. His lips are curled in a small smirk, and he has never looked more beautiful. There's an air of confidence around him, a careless, unassuming grace in his movements that makes him look so intimidating and yet, so appealing all the same. The top two buttons on his black shirt have been left open, and reveal more of the serpent tattoo around his collarbone. I have the strangest itch to trace it with my fingers but I dismiss it as curiosity.

He turns on his heel without another word, then looks back. He frowns, "Are you not following me?"

"Should I be?" I don't recall him asking me to go somewhere with him.

Cardan makes an 'isn't that obvious' face, and I give him an impatient look in return. He tells me, "I was about to get another drink, but apparently, we have to get drinks, have a date and whatnot now. I do loathe the idea of making someone unhappy."

"And if this makes me unhappy?" I ask, even as I walk beside him to the bar.

Almost absentmindedly, as if I'm daft and it's the simplest answer in the world, he gives me a blank look. "You're Jude. No one can make you unhappy." He orders drinks for the two of us, and it occurs to me that I'm talking to him, and it's not a part of my plan.

But maybe this coincidence might help me earn his trust. He's never so affable as he is when he's drunk.

We talk, if you could call it that. Mostly, it's just us remaining in a silence that feels too loud, each of us too aware of the other's presence and Cardan's occassional remarks laced with dry humor. And if upon hearing one of those sharp remarks, I let a loud laugh escape my mouth, or if I look rather flushed, I blame it on the alcohol I consume. It isn't until Vivienne informs me Madoc is home and he's asking for me that I remember all the ways this mission can go wrong if I'm not careful about it.

We're in the cab, and I'm almost dazed as I recall every remark Cardan made. "He's quite the catch," Vivienne must have seen the confusion on my face because she adds: "Cardan, I mean. I quite like him."

I make a face at her. "He's a disaster."

"A beautiful disaster," she corrects me with a suggestive look. I don't bother arguing with her this time.

═════════⚠═════════

tags:

@courtofjurdan // @thesirenwashere // @nightbringer // @queenofgreenbriar // @jurdanhell // @sweetlyvillainous //@clockworkgraystairs // @blog-lady-vi // @the-dark-swan //@storiesandschemes // @fangirltrash74 // @augustintodarkness // @queen-of-glass // @jurdan7 // @aesthetics-11 // @mijaldraws // @hades-flame // @sensitivehighlord // @annejulianneh111 // @b00kworm // @mysweetvillain // @doingmyrainbow // @curlyredqueen06 // @chaotic-fae-queen // @thewickedkings // @thesurielships //@df3ndyr // @clouds-and-peonies // @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln // @thefolkofthefic // @st00pid231 // @iminsanenotobsessed // @abookishfreak // @maddymelv // @iammissstark

[animepreferences]

P R E F E R E N C E 1 2 - S C H O O L S T R E S S.

C H U U Y A

“Sometimes...Sometimes I just want to quit.” You would admit, tears welling in your eyes as you focused your attention to your fiddling fingers in your lap. “I-I want to succeed. I want this degree. I want to accomplish my goals. It’s just—it’s really hard.” The tears gushed down your cheeks miserably, your voice beginning to tremble ever so slightly. “I just don’t think I’m good enough, Chuuya.” Finally allowing the pent up emotions to release, you would feel your chest become overwhelmingly heavy with realization. You weren’t good enough. You weren’t cut out to fulfill your dream career. You were never meant to succeed even from the beginning. You were a failure. “Y/N, look at me.” Chuuya would murmur, his voice so soft and gentle you couldn’t deny such kindness and benignity. “My sweet, beautiful Y/N.” His eyes would study you diligently, his hands gripping underneath you to move you promptly to his lap. “You are the most capable person I have ever met. And I know you well enough to know that you are far too stubborn to get this far just to give up.” Your mouth twisted in chagrin as your eyes darted away from his making him chuckle. “Plus, Y/N, I wouldn’t allow you to quit even if you tried, you wanna know why? Because I know your potential, I know your drive, I know how hard you work and what you’ve faced thus far. I know you can do this, Y/N.” Nose skimming against yours, Chuuya would press a gentle kiss to your lips smiling as you sucked in a small gasp at his actions. The affect that Chuuya had on you never failed to humor him. Pulling away to press his forehead against yours, he would breathe out your full name, his voice nearly silent to the human ear. “You will get through this. WE will get through this.” Sighing at his words, your eyes would slip closed a small sigh emerging from your mouth. “Do you promise, Chuuya?” Lifting your chin with his index finger, he would force you to look him in the eye, the sincerity scolding hot in his orbs. “I promise. Now, let’s see what we’re dealing with.” Reaching to where you were sitting previously, Chuuya would open the textbook, his eyes intently scanning the table of contents as he held the book out so both of you could see. A smile would work your way to your lips as you told him where to go, knowing that what you thought was impossible was possible as long as you had Chuuya by your side.

-

D A Z A I

“How was your test?” Dazai would ask casually, his voice sincere with curiosity. You knew Dazai was not trying to be spiteful. You knew Dazai was just genuinely inquisitive. You knew that Dazai was unaware of your struggles in the subject. You knew that Dazai was uninformed on how you had spent the previous night sobbing and scrambling because you were so unprepared for this test. And yet, the moment he asked this question, you could not control the tears that poured over your cheeks, your frame beginning to tremble. “Hey! Hey, hey, hey.” Dazai would murmur, instantly pulling the car over, slamming it in park. “What’s wrong?” He would ask, prying your hands from your face with little to none difficulty. “Talk to me, Y/N. What’s going on?” His voice gentle, his eyes yearning to know why his belladonna was so clearly devastated. “I-I-I failed. I failed that test. I’ve been struggling for months, barely keeping myself from drowning, but I’m fairly certain that I just failed. And I’ve worked so hard, so very hard, and I don’t want to lose my scholarship, I-“ You refused to finish your statement, your eyes shutting close, your teeth clenching. It was too much. Too much to think about, too much to acknowledge, too much to bear. You had been working so hard. So, very hard. “My dear, sweet Y/N.” Dazai would tut, his hand cupping your cheek, his eyes examining your distressed features. He hated the stress that wore heavy in your eyes, he hated the strain in your voice as you struggled to utter the words, but most of all he hated how unfair it was that someone who worked as hard as you had failed. You didn’t deserve it. “Come here.” Pulling you into a hug, Dazai would run his fingers through your tangled hair, his lips pressing to the crown of your head. “Why didn’t you ask me for help? I could have helped you.” He whispered, keeping his grasp strong around you as you soaked his shirt in your tears. “I don’t know, I was embarrassed. I felt so stupid for struggling the way that I did and you are already so very busy.” You explained, pulling away from him as you brushed your tears away with the back of your hand, your face now swollen and tumfield. Although you were evidently a disaster, you were the most beautiful disaster to Dazai. “Next time around, and there will be a next time, I am going to help you. One, because you deserve to succeed. Two, because I will never judge you especially if it is because of a silly school subject. And three, because I love you very much and I will ALWAYS have time for you. No matter what, Y/N, you come first.” Bopping you on the nose, you would giggle making Dazai’s heart falter before becoming rapid and full with life. “There’s that ravishing smile I love so much,” He would coo, reaching to nuzzle his nose against yours.

-

A K U T A G A W A

It was late when he arrived home. After a long day of fullfilling the mafia’s most deadly orders, he was lucky he even got home at the time he did. Nevertheless, it was late and he was certain you would have already slipped into a peaceful slumber. Which is why complexion colored his features when he heard music playing from your office, the raps of the keyboard thudding ever so slightly beneath your fingers. Schoolwork. It had been keeping you up for days. Endless amounts of coffee, late nights followed by early mornings, piles and piles of papers constantly surrounding you in a force feild-you were swamped. And Aku was completely over watching your health detiorate before his eyes because of it. This was going to end, and it was going to end now. Furthermore, his patience had grown alarmingly thin. Walking swiftly into the room, Aku would wordlessly walk up to your desk and close your laptop nearly pinching your fingers. “Aku-“ You would scold, gasping when he would close the textbook beside you, his hand reaching for your coffee and dumping it in the plant you had just recently placed on the corner of your desk. “What in the hell do you think you are doing?!” You would shout, jumping to your feet as your eyes scanned over your boyfriend frantically. Had he completely lost his mind? His expression was unreadable, his eyes seemingly cold as he ignored you, reaching over you to turn off your lamp making the dimly lit room completely dark. “Akutagawa, I demand you to stop I have school work to do-“ A squeak emitted from your mouth when Aku lifted you from the ground, carrying you from the office against your will. Flailing and trying to flee, you would fight against his grasp the entire way to the bedroom, pouting when he placed you on the middle of your shared bed. “It’s four in the morning. School work is secondary, your health is priority. At least it should be,” He would mutter, shrugging out of his coat and hanging it up in the closet. When he turned on his heel, he was gobsmacked to see you making a beeline from the bedroom back to the office. Chasing after you, he would grab you from behind lifting you and carrying you back to the bedroom. “Y/N, I said enough.” He would state curtly, glaring at you as he set you to your feet. “YOU DON’T GET IT! YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND, I HAVE TO GET THIS DONE OR I WILL FAIL!” You explode, tears springing from your eyes as you began to emit short ragged gasps. Staring at you in complete horror, Aku would freeze as he watched you unravel. He knew you had been stressed, but he wasn’t expecting this. “I’ve never been more stressed in my life.” You would choke, collapsing into Aku’s arms as you grabbed his shirt in your fists. “I-I’m so tired, but there is so much I need to do, I-I can’t breathe.” Rubbing small circles into your back, Aku would sigh, resting his cheek against the crown of your head. How had he not known it had gotten this out of hand? Staying silent, Aku would grab your shoulders guiding you to the bed as he wordlessly tucked back the comforter, inviting you in. Crawling into the thick duvet, you would cling to Aku like a life line as you tried to control your breathing. Eventually, however, you would grow tired and very comfortable against his grasp. “You’re going to get through this Y/N-Chan. You’re the smartest person I know.” Aku would murmur into your hair when he felt you breathing steady. Little did he know that you stayed awake, smile painted on your lips knowing that he was always looking out for you.

-

A/N: I don’t really know why I get carried away writing Aku’s portion, I guess I just subconsciously stan him 🤷🏼‍♀️

[choupichoups]

Press F (Instagram/College AU) Epilogue

Lucas swears he’s the absolute master of undetected stalking. Or: Eliott is instagram famous and Lucas is the disaster gay who accidentally likes his post.

Okay so this is the end end, thank you again for reading!!

Lucas turns over, free arm carelessly swiping up the empty space beside him. Warm fingers drum a loose tune over cold sheets, long unoccupied despite the fact that it’s only nine in the morning. So Eliott did manage to drag his ass up for his photoshoot despite all the pouting and complaining from last night.

With a jaw cracking yawn, he pushes himself off their giant, comfy bed, landing on the floor with a soft thump. He conjures up whatever self restraint he’s gathered over the years to keep from nose diving back into the warm sheets. Eliott had left the curtains drawn over the windows, leaving their room bathed in burnt orange light, the air conditioning humming soft whirs of cool air. It’s the perfect recipe for a morning spent lounging in bed doing nothing.

But alas, he pulls his big boy pants up and drags his feet to the bathroom to follow his boyfriend’s itinerary for the day.  

srodulv We’ll be at the west beach behind the big cliff i showed you yesterday Whenever your highness deems it fit to join us Lol nvm we’re inside a cave now Aaand we moved Right at the path when you head down Can’t miss me and my handsome face on a plank

lucallemant why is ur face on a plank less texting more posing

srodulv Being the breadwinnner in this relationship is really a thankless job huh

lucallemant where’s the bread tho???

srodulv THANKLESS

“Lucas, hey!” 

He stumbles past the pathetic lumps of sand from where he and Eliott had attempted a friendly little sand castle competition a few days ago, clumsy on his feet as he holds himself back from rushing towards them. 

“Morning, Jo,” he greets the photographer first before raising both eyebrows at Eliott, who does, in fact, look perfectly handsome lounging on his plank. As if the sand isn’t digging into the skin of his elbows. As if the sun isn’t beating directly over their heads. Ugh, an abomination. 

“Oh hi, Eliott, good morning Eliott!” Eliott says in a mockingly high pitched tone when Lucas fails to say anything else. “How are you doing, Eliott?” he continues in that same annoying voice, prompting Lucas to kick up some sand his way. “I missed you, boyfriend, you’re working so hard, my dear!”

“Ew, shut up.” Lucas laughs, moving to sit beside Eliott when Jo pauses his snapping to adjust some settings on his camera. Despite all the teasing, however, Lucas presses a kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek and throws both legs over one of Eliott’s thighs, hands instinctively searching to intertwine their fingers. “Morning,” he murmurs into the space between their lips, chest fluttering when Eliott brushes their noses together, whipped as the first time. 

“Good sleep?” Eliott mutters back, smile melting sweeter when Lucas drops his head on his shoulder with a nod. “We’re almost done here and then we have the rest of the week to ourselves, okay?” 

“Okay.” Lucas plays with their tangled hands, fingers stroking light across the back of Eliott’s palms. He almost forgets what they’re actually talking about had it not been for the loud click of a camera shutter coming from his right. 

Jo is looking down at his camera when Lucas finally forces himself away from the very optimal cuddle he and Eliott had going on. “You sure you don’t wanna do a joint photoshoot, Lucas?” Jo turns the camera around to show him the photo he’d just taken. “You guys look really good together, it’d be a hit!” 

Yeah, no. Lucas snorts, “I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

Jo tuts, “Don’t be like that, this one looks good.”

“Lucky shot, trust me. My face does weird things in front of cameras most of the time,” he prattles out excuses, eyes narrowing when Eliott remains silent as he watches the exchange, laughter clear in his eyes. “Anyway, I’ll be taking a walk while you boys do your thing, alright, don’t have too much fun, drink water often, and I’ll see you,” he clicks his tongue, points to where Eliott is seated, eyes locked on Lucas ever since he arrived, “later. Bye!” 

And he runs off before Jo could convince him to join the shoot. Lucas really isn’t about that life, the amount of followers he’s garnered only from the fact that he’s dating Eliott is already stressing him out as it is. He can’t imagine what a legitimate photoshoot together would do. 

Making his way towards the beach, Lucas slips off his sandals and walks along the path where the waves hit the sand, relishing in the ticklish feel of sand shifting underneath his feet at every pull. His toes curl into the soft surface, wiggling at the cool touch of clear waters before the waves pull back into the ocean. 

It’s nice out here. Lucas had been mighty skeptical when Eliott had mentioned it off-handedly during the giant final party of the school year. Granted, both of them had been pretty drunk at that point and Lucas wasn’t sure whether he was hearing things or if Eliott had really just asked him to go on a two week vacation in South Africa. Like Lucas doesn’t only have two whole dollars in his savings account. 

It’s free, Eliott had cleared up once sober, chuckling at the dubious look on Lucas’ face. My friend wants a shoot there and he’s letting us stay at their private condo as payment. 

Wow, bourgeoisie, and then Lucas proceeded to forget about it in the midst of tear inducing exams.

He digs out his phone and snaps a photo of the sun hitting the ocean’s surface with a pretty gleam. His mom would appreciate the view, maybe it would encourage her to take her own vacation somewhere too. She deserves a few weeks away from the city— maybe a trip with her friends would be nice, maybe with that nice guy she’s trying to pass off as just her friend whenever Lucas visits would be good too. 

Lucas digs his heels in the sand and turns to face the ocean, rolling his sweatpants up to his calves as he steps deeper into the water. 

Eliott’s graduated. He’d done a placement at a studio during his final year and they refused to get rid of him (Lucas can relate), add to that Eliott’s side film projects and this whole internet famous slash instagram model thing and Eliott’s suddenly found himself a lot more occupied that initially expected. 

Lucas has quite a bit of catching up to do. Fuck, he’s not even employed anywhere. He’d left his job at the cafe during that unsavoury mess a year prior and his workload from school picked up at an abhorrent pace. The only reason he’s functioning as a semi normal human being right now is because Eliott has made it his mission to stop him from eating any more of Yann’s cheese bread and his mother has been helping him with rent. 

He stomps his feet into the water, pouting as it earns him a very unsatisfying splash. And then his feet are suddenly off the ground, legs flailing on instinct as he’s grabbed from behind by an obnoxious, giggling giant— 

“Eliott!” he screeches, two seconds before he’s unceremoniously dumped deeper into the water. Sputtering, he stands back up with as much dignity as he can gather and jumps onto Eliott’s back with a holler of curses, trying to keep his own head above water when Eliott’s knees buckle under the attack, laughter helpless as he clutches onto Lucas in their half-hearted tussle. 

They roll around half in and half out the waves, laughter unbridled like giddy little children on a high. Careful steps on the sand turn to careless treading in the deeper waters, drenched clothes stuck on warm skin and playful fingers threaded in ocean darkened locks. Lucas breathes out a chuckle in the tiny space between them, foreheads aligning perfectly when he hauls himself up, arms wrapped tightly around Eliott’s shoulders for balance. This close, Eliott’s smile is more radiant than the sun reflecting diamonds in the water and Lucas can’t look away, not when the oncoming wave roars closer, not when Eliott whispers something reverent that steals the breath right out of his lungs. 

"Eliott,” Lucas starts, blinking salt water off of his eyelashes. “Eliott, I—”

And then the waves claim them with an unmerciful smack, the force of it brings the two boys back to shore and they resurface with a sputter, their moment chased away by a newly triggered round of laughter.

“Oh shit.” Lucas squints as something dawns on him. “Fuck, Eliott!” He removes his soaked shirt and uses it to smack Eliott’s arm. 

“Ow! What?” 

“My shoes! I dropped them!”

“Oh. Oh, crap. I’ll buy— hey stop— stop that! I’ll buy you new ones at the market!”

The evening market is absolutely bustling with tourists. It seems like everyone had the same idea of whiling away the heat at the beach and whiling away at the shops once the sun starts to set. 

“Lucas, come here! Look.” 

Lucas follows the direction where Eliott’s voice is coming from, finding his boyfriend laden with all kinds of trinkets around the neck, around both wrists, and around most of his fingers. He’s such a fool. Lucas loves him so much.

“Please don’t tell me you’re gonna buy all of that.”

Eliott allows himself an offended look before remembering his excitement. “Course not, but look at this!” He stretches a hand and shows Lucas a handmade, wooden carving of a woman sitting on a piano bench with a dog beside her. “Wouldn’t this be perfect for your mom?” 

Did Lucas say he loves him already?

“Yeah,” he says softly, squeezing the hand holding the figurine before letting go and looking around the stalls himself. He’s done a bit of shopping for their friends already (he’s not actually going to get them only rocks and sand, thank you very much), all he needs now is for some help getting things for Eliott’s parents. “Hey, do you think you dad will like—” He turns around, holding up a trinket, only to find Eliott already off to the stalls on the far right. Oh well, at least he looks like he’s in the process of returning everything he’s got draped all over him. 

They don’t take very long to run into each other again once they’ve done their rounds, and Eliott beams like they haven’t seen each other in days, grabbing Lucas by the wrist with an enthusiastic, “All good to go?” And even if he wasn’t, Lucas would’ve followed him either way. 

Speaking of, they’re not headed to where they parked their rental car.

“Where are we going?” Lucas asks, sneaking a glance around them to see if he can pinpoint familiar places. They haven’t done much exploring for the past week, preferring to laze around the beach area whenever Eliott wasn’t busy with photoshoots, but he imagines Eliott has been around more than him if Jo wanted some changes in scenery. 

And because Eliott is Eliott, he doesn’t utter a word until they’ve passed a small bridge that leads to what looks like a dead end of shrubbery. 

But Lucas knows better by now.

They squeeze through the thick shrubs, pushing branches and leaves aside until they reach a wide clearing. “Tada...” Eliott whispers, as if the sound of his normal volume would disrupt the scene. 

And what a scene it was. A quaint circular area with boulders piled about, a large, ancient tree with drooping arms perfectly frames the view as if planted there years ago to fulfill this present purpose. The waves crash softly against the rocks, forcing pale, wet sand to shift with uneven dips. Over the horizon, blinding in its beauty, perches a moon so clear and bright Lucas would be hard pressed to believe it’s real if he weren’t standing right here.

“Holy shit,” he mumbles, shaking excess leaves off his feet as he makes his way forward, entranced. “Holy shit,” he repeats with feeling.

“Yup, holy shit.” Eliott breathes out his laughter, shoulders shrugging up in that endearing way of his. “Thought you’d appreciate this.”

Lucas makes his way to the edge where water and sand meet, bending to pick up a shiny stone reflecting moonlight off its surface. He hears Eliott coming up behind him but doesn’t expect the hand that steals the stone from his grip and Lucas huffs, indulging in his boyfriend’s amusement for a few minutes and jumping up to try and steal it back from Eliott’s raised fist.

“Eli, come on, give it.” He tries for another jump, but Eliott brings his hands behind his back, putting the stone out of sight. “Eliott!” Lucas whines, shaking the plastic bag of trinkets he’s got hanging around one wrist. Eliott has the gall to laugh at his suffering. “Give it.” Lucas holds out his free hand, tapping his feet on the sandy ground. “Now.” 

Eliott raises an eyebrow in turn, smile adorable despite its mischief as he holds out both hands in closed fists. “Okay, choose a hand then.” 

Lucas’ groan is long suffering. 

But unfortunately, undeniably fond.

“What is this now?” Lucas eyes him suspiciously, trying to figure out what Eliott has up in his sleeve this time. 

“What’s what?” Eliott tries for innocent.

“Did you learn some kind of magic trick, is that it?” Lucas grins, looking between the two hands in front of him.

“I don’t know, did I?” Eliott’s eye crinkles when he smiles. It’s infuriating.

“Omygod, you’re literally impossible. This better be a good trick, Demaury.” He slaps a hand over Eliott’s left fist, digging in between his fingers to try and pry them open. Eliott gives in too easily, lifting his fingers open without a struggle, so Lucas expects it to turn up empty.

Except.

Except—

“Is this good enough for you?” His voice is a whisper, quiet enough to get carried away by a strong wind. 

Lucas stares at the hand, mouth gaping dumbly. “That’s a ring.” He hears a chuckle, and then Eliott’s other hand is opening to reveal a matching pair. “That’s two rings,” he says, a necessary and intelligent contribution. 

“I know you’re nervous about what’s going to happen.” Eliott starts, “with my graduation, and work, and all that stuff.” 

“I’m not—”

“Lucas, please, you think I wouldn’t notice?”

Lucas shuts his mouth, looks down at the rings again as if they hold the answers to all his doubts. And maybe, maybe they do. Hold them. Some of them, at least. 

“Nobody likes change, you know. I hate it too.” Eliott steps closer, putting both rings inside one hand and using his free hand to grip one of Lucas’. “But for every change that happens there are still constants.” He places one of the rings inside Lucas’ palm. “And you have a lot of that, whether you believe it or not.” With both hands now free, Eliott takes the ring he kept for himself and drops it around his pinky finger. “But if there’s anything I want you to always believe, it’s that I will be your constant, Lucas Lallemant.” 

“Constant?” Lucas chokes, eyes stinging from the force of the tears he’s holding back. God, he’s such a cry baby and Eliott knows it too, the bastard. “Like, always? Like—” Forever. But that’s a scary word. “Whatever happened to minute by minute?” He laughs weakly, hand gripping the ring tight in his hold. 

Eliott leans down to press a kiss atop Lucas’ closed fist. “Okay, what if I tell you that here, in this exact spot, a minute lasts forever?” Because of course Eliott isn’t afraid of forever. Maybe Lucas will learn to be brave too. 

Absently, Lucas mimics Eliott’s earlier movements, sliding the ring around his pinky and staring at it in wonder. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen himself wear a ring in his whole life. It’s a little loose on him but he’ll deal with that later, now’s not the time to worry about tiny details. “That’s absurd.” 

“You’re absurd.”

“No you.” And Lucas launches himself up and into a hard kiss, putting all the brimming feelings he’s too stupefied to vocalize at this moment. “Buying promise rings,” he murmurs in between kisses. “When did you even— you sneaky bastard.” He pulls at Eliott’s shirt, dragging him down as he sags back on his heels. Eliott’s hands are warm cups over his cheeks, touch so soft, ever so gentle in everything he does. Lucas is shifting to fling his arms around Eliott’s shoulders to try and bring them even closer to each other when he feels the newly appointed metal on his finger fly right off his finger and into... well... into the unknown. 

He pulls away so fast he gives both of them whiplash. 

Fuck. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Fuck! 

Eliott is understandably confused. “Uh. What’s wrong?” 

“My ring!” Lucas screeches, throwing his bag of souvenirs over onto dry land before attempting to dive headfirst into the water. Eliott stops him just in time, dragging a protesting Lucas far, far away from the ocean. “But Eliott! My ring!! Your ring?! My— ring!” 

And Eliott is laughing. “It’s okay, Lu.”

“It’s not!” He takes fistfuls of Eliott’s shirt and shakes his boyfriend because in what world is it okay to lose a ring given to you two seconds ago? “I just had it and then it’s gone!” 

“Shh, it’s okay.” Eliott smiles down at him, shaking his head as he removes his own ring from his pinky and slides it onto Lucas’ ring finger. It’s a much better fit this time, but—

“But this is yours,” Lucas insists, “you’ve gotta have one too.”

“Oh, I do?” Eliott raises a teasing eyebrow.

“Of fucking course, that’s the point of a promise ring you dolt.” Wait no. “I’m the dolt. I can’t believe I lost my ring!”

Eliott’s giggles ring clear in the night. “Lucas, it’s okay, really, we’re here for a few more days, we can buy a new one before we leave, hm? Let’s go back now, I think you need some sleep.”

“I don’t need to sleep, I need to find my ring!!” 

[deadlynightshade-and-hyacinth]

Fruit, Seppuku and the Flying Bugsy

 Late September 1971, the Tokyo Hilton in Japan. A trip to remember.   **this is the short story of how and why Led Zeppelin was banned from the Tokyo Hilton for life**  I hope you all enjoy the ride. 

Jimmy’s P.O.V. 

    Speeding down the corridor, the service cart in hand was the beast, a rampant, intoxicated Percy atop it. I took another swig of my beer, watching them in amusement from the end of the hall.  

“Woohoo!” Robert screamed, flailing his arms in the air. “You better move Pageykins!” He slurred.  

   I leaned against the wall, my arms crossed, the cart heading straight for me. Behind the handles; Bonzo - face red with delirium - roared car sounds as if he were in a drag race. 

“VROOM, VROOM.“  

   Under John’s thunderous voice, a loud muffled sound vibrated with the buggy. Just as they almost reached me, Bonzo flicked his wrists, turning the cart to the left, making a loud sharp noise at it skidded to a stop.  

“AGGHH!” Robert yelled, his face covered in a sloppy, Cheshire grin.   

   Through the rush of the adrenaline I caught the glimpse of a flash from the corner of my eye. Out from the bottom compartment of the service cart rolled Jonesy, taking the curtain that wrapped around the buggy with him.  

“Ow.” Jones rubbed his head.  

“Man up!” Bonzo laughed, beating his chest like an ape.  

“So, what do’ya say, Page? Wanna go for a ride?” Percy’s bright, hopeful smile shone brilliantly considering the terrible yellow light of the corridor.  

   I shook my head laughing. “Do you think I’m an idiot?” I raised my eyebrows. “You piss pots are gonna get us kicked out of here if you don’t stop muckin’ about.”  

"Spoil sport.” Jonesy scoffed. “You know and we know that you have done worse!”

   I shrugged carelessly. “I have someone waiting for me.” I chugged the rest of my beer and lifted the glass to cheers them goodnight.   

“Who the hell are you shagging?” Robert piped up, stumbling off the cart.   

“Some bird I found parading in the lobby. You know she asked for you too” I slyly invited him hoping the others wouldn’t notice. 

   He gave me a shy smile.  

“Ay where's Phil? The ol’ bugger owes me a beer!” Bonzo jumped in between Robert and I. Phil Carson who ran Atlantic Records in England was on the tour with us. 

“Went into the shower about 10 minutes ago. I guess he figured since you three were out of sight he could have a peaceful 20 minutes in the wash.” I informed them wryly. “Don’t disturb us.” I waved them good night, heading for my room.   

                                                          * 

Bonzo’s P.O.V. 

“What do’ya say we pay an ol’ visit to Philly with our new pal Bugsy?” I pointed my thumb toward the torn apart buggy.  

“Ah man I think I’m gonna uh... hit the sheets. Pagey kinda crushed the mood.” Percy murmured suspiciously keyed up.  

“I’m up for it!” Jones bounced up from the floor, the buggy curtain floating delicately with him.  

   Percy, the little twit ran off in a hurry while Jones and I found good ol’ Philly’s room.  

“So, what are we gonna do?” Jones excitedly twiddled his fingers.  

“Well mate, you are gonna open the doors and I am gonna… improvise… But Bugsy over ‘ere is gonna… well we’re gonna improvise that too!"  

  Jones nodded and opened the door to Philly’s suite. He entered first, confirming that the coast was clear so I pushed ol’ Bugsy in. We listened intently and heard the shower running. So far, the mission of Bugsy was a success. I nodded to the bathroom door and Jones happily opened it quietly. 

   After taking a quick deep breath, inspiration flooded me. At full force I ran for the bathroom, pushing Bugsy in front of me, screaming the opening wail of Immigrant Song. "AhhhAhhhAHHHHHHHHHHahhhhhhh AhhhAhhhAHHHHHHHHHHHahhhhhh.”  

   At the threshold of the door I let go of the cart and watched it ram into the shower occupied by Philly. He jumped to the side dodging the death cab.  

“Bleedin’ hell!” He yelled clutching onto the shower curtain for coverage.  

“Aye Philly, I jusssth wanted to stop by fer that beer!” I smiled widely.  

                                                        * 

    The next day I woke up, not able to remember if I got that beer or not. And Bugsy was nowhere to be found… come to think of it, I never did see another service cart on our floor the rest of our stay.  

   I met Richard down in the car as he had promised to take me out. On the town! Just us pals! It would be bloody grand!   

   After a day filled with random stores, supper, a little nose candy and a pub stop, we were on our way back to the hotel when we saw the light! It was a street lamp that shone its brilliant luminescence on a store with a big sign in beautiful Japanese lettering. Of course, we had no fuckin’ idea what it said but in the window of this little blessing of a store was just what we needed to have a good time. Quickly we crossed the street and entered the store only leaving once we had purchased two beautiful samurai swords.   

   Heading back to the hotel we took another snort of coke and found our way up to our rooms. Screaming random words that sounded like they could be in a Bruce Lee movie, Richard and I tore both our rooms to splinters. Smashing the tellys, cutting the bunks up, tearing down the curtains, slashing the carpet to pieces and slicing the walls with our majestic swords.   

“Korosu!” Richard yelled at the telly as he smashed the screen into pieces. “Daijoubu!”  

   When our rooms were no longer recognizable, we left for the corridor, sword in hand.  

“… I wonder what Jonesy’s up to…” I smiled slyly at Richard who returned the devious grin.  

   We ran to his room and tried the knob but it was locked.   

“Who needs doorknobs… when we have these!?” I held up the sword like king Arthur. 

   Richard caught on and stepped away from the door.  

    I swung the weapon back and like a baseball bat, swung it forward again. It hit the door with a loud crack. We both looked at each other and broke out into laughter before we both started whacking the door until the shards of wood lay in a big pile at our feet, the door barely standing on its hinges.  

   We entered the room to find Jones drunk and unconscious in his bed. 

“Grab his leg!” I smacked Richards arm and grabbed Jonesy’s other leg. We dragged him out of the room and left him passed out in the corridor then repeated seppuku on his room. When we finished, we backed away to the door and gazed at the disaster we had created with our newly found toys.  

“Kachi! Katsu!” I yelled raising my sword in the air to clank with Richards. Proud of our success we had a beer and celebrated then headed off to new, fresh rooms to sleep.  

                                                       *  

Jonesy’s P.O.V. 

“Mr. Jones…” An annoying voice kept repeating my name over and over.   

   I could feel the haze of the inevitable awakening fog my brain. My head pounded and my stomach felt queasy. I just wanted to sleep.  

“Mr. Jones…” The voice continued.  

   In a huff I opened my eyes and found a maid standing above me, poking at my shoulder.   

“What in fuckin’ hell do ya bloody want?” I yelled. “Can’t you see I’m trying to fuckin’ sleep!" I was madly irritated, my tone and words too rash and harsh but a hangover was ensuing and if this woman didn’t leave me alone to continue my slumber I was going to hurl.   

"But Mr. Jones.” Her face looked terrified. She took a step back and tried to speak again but I cut her off.  

“Why the hell are you in my room anyway?” I asked outraged, rubbing my eyes as I sat up. When my eyes focused, I realized I was not in my bed. “Why in the bloody hell am I on the floor?” I asked mostly myself. I looked around and realized I wasn’t even in my room. “Where am I?"   

   The maid crossed her arms, her expression not happy. "You are in the corridor sir. I believe that is your room.” She pointed to a chopped-up door.   

“What the fuck happened?"  

"I don’t know.” Her tone was livid. “But I’m not cleaning it!” She turned on her heels and walked away.  

                                                      *  

Percy’s P.O.V. 

 The next night, after the concert, ran pretty much the same way the previous nights had. But instead of dangerous weaponry or flying carts from hell, us mates and the roadies gathered in the dining hall for a little snack after a hard-working evening. Some idiot, probably Richard, decided to take all the food up the corridor on the floor we inhabited and once we were up there, with belly’s full of booze we started throwing food at each other.   

   Watermelons denting walls, apples smacking people in the head. Poor Page got a banana smashed into his precious hair.  

“God dammit!” He cried trying to pull the chunks out. “Who did thi–” He started but one of the roadies threw a grape in his gaping gob.  

   He eyed the roadie suspiciously then grabbed a handful of tangerines and started whipping them at him. The roadie, hit a couple times by the tiny oranges, started ducking and dodging. Sticky orange splatters covered the walls behind him.  

   Bonzo off to the side was smashing grapefruits and kiwis into the carpet. Jonesy was in a banana battle with Cole and I was throwing more mushed up food into Jimmy’s hair while he was still pinning the same poor roadie with pears now.   

   When none of us could take anymore we took hideout in Pagey’s room. Page spent the rest of the night fixing his hair while the rest of us, sopping wet and sticky with fruit, continued drinking until we passed out.  

   The next morning, we were all awakened covered in dried fruit juice and lint, our hair matted and sticky. Early in the morning we were all summoned to the lobby where we found all of our equipment and luggage sitting at the door.  

 “You have made a disaster of my hotel, giving it a bad reputation. I am now to ask you all to leave and never return!” The manager of the hotel who once welcomed us with smiles and open arms now sneered at us. “Led Zeppelin is banished from The Tokyo Hilton for life!"  

   Peter paid the original bill with a few extra thousand for the damages caused by all of us all while attempting not to laugh at the ridiculousness we had created and the fact that us rambunctious group of lads and imbeciles were now banned for life from a prestigious hotel and good ol’ Tokyo, Japan.  

   We left groggy and sore, not bothering to argue. It was an adventure we would remember forever. Once we made our way to the airport and sat ourselves in our seats we broke into an uncontrollable laughter. It was one hell of a trip.   

[arrow-guy]

Broken Flock (5/??)

Summary: It’s been two years since you uprooted your life and left to figure out who you really are, leaving behind Bucky and Clint with little more than a note as a warning. Now, New York is calling your name and it’s time to go home. How will Clint and Bucky react to your return, and how will the time have affected your relationship?

A/N: Hello, hello, we return with a new episode of Disaster Boys and their Winged Friend. We’re picking up right where we left off last time. Please enjoy!

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong

Word Count: 3k

Pairing: WinterhawkxReader

Warnings: Heights, falling

Part 4

“You sure you’re alright staying behind?”

“(Y/N), I’ve already told you, the two of you need some time outside of the city.” Clint pushes Bucky and I out the door. “Get your asses upstate and get some fresh air. If you’re back before dark, there’ll be consequences.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows. “Consequences? What’re you gonna do? Spank us?”

Clint grins. “Don’t tempt me.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and hooks his arm around my waist. “We’re leaving.”

“Good.”

“We’ll pick up a couple of pizzas on the way home!” I add before Bucky can get me too far down the hall.

Clint shouts his approval and Bucky shakes his head. The smile on his face betrays his annoyance and I laugh. Bucky gives me a half-hearted glare and reaches over to take my hand.

“You think this is hilarious,” he grumbles.

“I think it’s hilarious that you refuse to smile in public.”

“We’re in a hallway.”

“And you treat it like a public space!”

"Other people live in this building, (Y/N), it's not just us!"

"Is this the moment when you finally admit you live here, too?"

“How is that what we were talking about in any way?”

“You said us when you were talking about who lives here, not just Clint and I!” I poke him in the side. “You live here too. Admit it.”

“I’m not admitting anything.”

“Seriously?” Bucky rolls his eyes and moves in front of me to walk down the stairs. He doesn’t let go of my hand. “Bucky, you have spent more nights in either my apartment or Clint’s since I moved back in. You live here.”

“I don’t pay rent. I don’t live here.”

“Then you’re a squatter. A really well-paid squatter.”

“You’re an awful person.”

I hummed. “I know, but you like me anyway.”

“Unfortunately.”

I cackle and follow him down the last few flights of stairs. We load up our bags, the picnic basket, and the umbrella Bucky wanted into the back of the car. The umbrella tries to escape a few times and Bucky has to climb into the car and hold it in while I close the back hatch. Once it’s secure, Bucky helps me get into the car by, first, laying the back of the passenger seat down flat. I tuck my wings as tightly to my body as I possibly can and lay down on the passenger side and Bucky buckles me in as soon as I settle. I pillow my hands under my cheek and wait for the car to warm up so that we can leave.

“You look comfy,” Bucky says.

“This sucks, and you know it,” I grumble.

He laughs. “Maybe.”

As soon as we’re out of the city, Bucky reaches over to me and I take his hand. He softly tells me to get some rest and that he’ll wake me when we reach our destination. I do my best to stay awake as long as I possibly can, I eventually nod off and sleep for about an hour and a half before Bucky gently shakes me awake. It takes me a moment to wake up and realize where we are.

“We’re here already?” I mumble.

“Mhm.” Bucky squeezes my hand. "Come on. Let's set up."

I nod and unbuckle my seatbelt. I open the back passenger door and crawl out across the back of the car seat. I shake out my wings as soon as my feet hit the grass and stretch my arms over my head. I pop my back all the way up and down my spine and I sigh loudly. It takes me a moment to register that Bucky’s driven us out the literal middle of nowhere and parked at the edge of a massive grassy field. Behind us stands a giant wall of trees and beyond that is miles of rolling hills and fields of grass, rippling in the wind. I look at Bucky and grin. He smiles and shakes his head before jerking his chin at the back gate of the car. I grab my bag and the umbrella and trail after Bucky while he looks for the perfect place to set up.

After wandering around for nearly five minutes, Bucky finds a spot he likes and spreads out his blanket. I open the umbrella and drive the stake into the ground at one corner of the blanket. Bucky immediately stretches out across the blanket and I lay on my stomach in the sun beside him.

“Seriously?” he asks.

I shrug and spread my wings. “It’s been a while since I’ve been able to do this.”

He shakes his head. “You’re nuts.”

“Not all of us have metal arms, Buck. I'm not gonna burn myself if I sit in the sun for a bit.”

"You could still burn," he mutters.

I hum and fold my arms under my chin. "Worth it."

He shakes his head. “You’re so weird sometimes.”

“Someone has to be, and seeing as Clint’s not here, I’ve gotta pick up the slack.” Bucky laughs and I smile. “How’d you find this place, anyway?”

“Stark moved operations upstate for a while. Things got loud and crowded so I left and drove around for a bit. Found this open field and filed it away for later.”

“Have you brought Clint out here yet?”

“No, not yet. He doesn’t need quiet like we do.” He takes my hand in his when I reach out to him. “He’ll get his turn at some point. But today it’s just you ‘n me.”

“I’m kinda glad it’s just us today,” I confess. “We don’t get a lot of time alone together, what with you living at the tower.”

“I know. I get sucked into a lot of work with Steve.” He sighs. “I love him, he’s my best friend, but he’s such a fuckin’ work-a-holic. Acts like he’s still got shit to prove, even though he ‘n Tony are probably two of the most respected people on the planet.”

“Well, you know how it went the last time I tried to talk him into taking a vacation.”

“You jumped out a window.”

“He started having a panic attack thinking about the paperwork that could potentially pile up while he was gone.” I sigh. “I worry about him sometimes.

“Don’t worry about him too much. Sam and Rhodey have been helping more, recently. Rhodey is great with the leadership stuff, and Sam is the perfect backup when training starts getting a little out of hand.”

“That’s good.”

“Stark’s talking with that Pym guy to see if he’ll loan his guy to us for a while.”

“Scott, right?”

“Yeah, gave Sam a hard time a few years back, but…” he lowers his voice conspiratorially, “We’re not supposed to know about that.”

I laugh and he turns his head to grin at me. “And how do you know this?”

“Confidential, sweetheart.”

“Aw, Buck, come on!”

He laughs. “I was going back through old security tapes a while back and found the feed.”

“Putting all that training to good use, I see.”

“I gotta find my fun somewhere, (Y/N).”

“And you’re not one to go tugging on Clint’s pigtails, or anything.”

“Nah, he’d like it too much.”

I giggle. “Probably.”

Bucky shakes his head. “Anyway, Steve’s doing better than he was. Work might slow down enough that I could spend more time at the building with you guys instead of stuck at the tower. Well… more than just the evenings and the occasional weekend.”

“That’d be really nice.”

He nods and hums in agreement. His eyes flutter shut as he relaxes and I watch him doze for a bit before I pull my hand from his and wander out to the middle of the field. I close my eyes and tip my face to the sky, spreading my arms and wings, just to soak up the warmth. A gentle breeze kicks up around me and the faint rustling of grass slowly reaches my ears.

I sigh and begin to move my wings, lifting from the ground with each downbeat. When I can see nothing but the tops of the trees and the rolling hills of the countryside, I angle myself and fly in several wide, lazy circles over the field. Bucky and his umbrella are little more than a speck on the ground below when I circle back around the fifth time.

With one strong stroke, I break off from my course and glide out over the treetops. I climb higher and higher through the clouds until I can’t see the ground below me. I relish the strain of the muscles all up and down my body, groaning through months of disuse, but pleased to finally move after being stuck on the ground for so long. Up in the clouds, I swear I can breathe a little better than I could not even ten minutes ago. My head is clearer than it has been in nearly a year. I feel wonderful. Wonderful enough to pull my wings in tight against my back and free fall through every single inch of cloud cover before unfurling them and gliding out over the countryside.

I do a few loop-the-loops and have to pause after to shove my hair out of my face. Embarrassed, I glance around and laugh when I realize that absolutely no one could’ve seen me.

I take off again, dipping down below the clouds, only to find that I’m in a completely different place from where I started. I squint at the surrounding area, searching for any kind of defining landmark, and immediately backpedal when the Compound comes into view. I angle my wings into a sharp turn and take off in the direction I came from.

I figure I’m home free when I see the umbrella and I put on an extra burst of speed in an attempt to reach Bucky faster.

“Long time no see, (Y/N)!”

I jerk my head from side to side in an attempt to figure out where the voice came from. A second look over my right shoulder reveals Sam, slowly emerging from some kind of cloaking shield. Startled, I forget to move my wings and Immediately lose altitude.

“Fuck!” I yell out, flailing my arms as I plummet to the earth below.

I manage to roll and face the sky and I take several deep breaths to try and calm myself. When I open them again, Sam is diving, arms outstretched in an attempt to catch me. His yells reach my ears and I pull my wings tight against my body, arch my back and flip myself to face the ground once more. About fifty feet before I hit the ground, I snap my wings open and streak across the field. Sam pulls up just in time to avoid crashing into the dry grass below.

I bank sharply and land a short distance from Sam. Anger rises in my chest and I ball my hands into fists.

“What the fuck was that, Wilson?!” I shout. “Are you trying to fucking kill me? If I had something on me right now, I’d throw it and your head!”

"I am so sorry, (Y/N)," he says, hands raised in defense. "I didn't think you'd get spooked like that."

"You were cloaked. How the hell was I supposed to know you were there?"

He freezes. “I… I don’t know.”

I let out a frustrated yell and, with one strong stroke of my wings, I send him tumbling to the ground with a massive gust of air. I storm off in the direction of the car shouting back at Sam each time he tries to defend himself.

“Come on, (Y/N), it was an accident! I’m trying to apologize.”

Bucky lumbers over, raking his hands through his hair. “What’s going on?”

“Sam just about killed me,” I grind out.

“What?”

I fold my arms and shake my head. “I got distracted and didn’t realize how far I’d flown and wound up a little too close to the Compound. I got out of there as fast as I could, and I thought I made it. But Sam followed me all the way back and decided to do so cloaked-” I look back and Sam and glare. He has the decency to look guilty. “-And startled me bad enough that I stopped flying. I fell a few hundred feet before I could get my bearings and get my wings out again.”

Bucky looks past me at Sam, brows pulled together in a scowl. “What the hell, man?”

“Look, something appeared on the scanner, I had to go check it out. How was I supposed to know it was her? We didn’t even know she was back in town!”

“Yeah, but you figured out it was her, right? Why would you follow her back after that?”

“I don’t know. None of us have seen her in two years, man. I guess I wanted to make sure it was actually her.”

“You could’ve done that from a distance, Sam,” I counter. “You know I’m not a threat. Scaring the shit out of me put us both in danger.”

“You’re right.” Sam looks between Bucky and I and sighs. “I’ll get outta your hair.”

“I hope this doesn’t end up in a report, or something,” Bucky says.

Sam laughs. “Don’t worry, it won’t. My lips are sealed.”

I give him a tight lipped smile. “Thanks, Sam.”

“Don’t mention it, (Y/N).” He lifts off the ground and grins. “I’d hug you, but I’m pretty sure you’d just punch me.”

“Damn right I would,” I mutter. Bucky laughs and bumps his shoulder against mine.

“See you next week,” Bucky calls.

Sam nods and Bucky and I watch him disappear into the clouds. Bucky sighs and shakes his head and leads me back to the umbrella, muttering to himself about hating his job. I slip my arm around his waist and tell him he doesn’t hate his job, he just really enjoys his time off.

We spread out on the blanket and eat our lunch. We don’t talk much and I take off to fly again when I’m finished. I stay much closer this time, choosing to just do laps around the field instead of exploring like I had been earlier. Instead, I content myself with doing different aerial maneuvers and buzzing by the umbrella every once in a while.

I fly for another three hours before I get tired. I drop down in front of Bucky and he cracks one eye open to look up at me.

“Done?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“I know Sam said he wouldn’t tell anyone, but I can’t help being a little paranoid,” I say. I offer him a hand up and he takes it.

Bucky yanks the umbrella from the ground and shrugs. “I’d say that’s just smart thinking, on your part.”

I hum and begin packing things back into the picnic basket. I shake out and fold up the blanket and tuck it under my arm as we head back to the car.

“Did you at least get to relax a little?” I ask.

“Oh, yeah. I think I napped most of the time.”

I laugh. “Good.”

Once everything is packed in the car, Bucky helps me back into my seat. The interior is warm and my overworked muscles are crying out for me to rest. The hum and rhythm of the car isn’t helping my case much, and I grow drowsy the further we drive. Bucky takes my hand as I begin to doze off.

“Did you have any kind of fun today?” he asks.

“Mhm.” I nod and squeeze his hand. “Gonna be sore in the morning.”

"Sounds like you had a really good time, then."

"Yeah." I nod off for a moment, but suddenly remember something. "We gotta get pizza on the way home. I promised Clint."

"I know, sweetheart, don't worry. We'll grab a couple'a pies on the way back into town."

"Okay."

I sleep the entire way home.

Bucky gently shakes me awake when we arrive and I groggily crawl out of the car. I grab the bags from the bar and Bucky shakes his head when I reach for the umbrella and picnic basket. He gestures for me to follow him into the building and we trudge up the stairs to Clint’s apartment. Lucky is at the door as soon as we’re inside and Clint barely looks up from what he’s doing when Lucky barks and announces our arrival.

“What’d I say about coming home early?” Clint asks. “It’s not even dark out yet!”

I shake my head and drop the bags near the door.

“(Y/N) got a little too close to the Compound and Sam followed her back after she got picked up on the scanners,” Bucky explains.

“He decided to surprise me and I nearly fell to my death.” I grab plates from the cupboard. “So there’s that too.”

“Holy shit,” Clint says.

“Yeah… But we have pizza.”

Bucky holds up the two boxes and Clint grins and clears his arrows from the coffee table.

“I knew there was a reason I kept you guys around.”

I roll my eyes and hand him a plate. “There’s more benefits to us than pizza.”

Clint flips open a box as soon as they’re on the table and takes three slices. “Right now, the main benefit is pizza.” He leans over when I sit beside him and kisses my forehead. “You’re still pretty great without it, though.”

“Aw, thanks, Clint.”

We eat in relative silence, doing our best to ignore Lucky’s pleading looks, though Clint gives in and tosses him his own slice. Bucky admonishes Clint but Clint just laughs and jokes about throwing Lucky another slice.

When I finish, I lean forward on the table, stretching the muscles all up and down my back. Clint reaches over and presses his knuckles between my shoulderblades, gently massaging away the steadily growing soreness. Clint and Bucky talk between themselves and I watch as Lucky climbs into Bucky’s lap and curls up.

I smile and listen to their conversation and let their voices and Clint’s hand on my back lull me into soft relaxation.

---------

Part 6

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[zrtranscripts]

Home Front, Mission 14: Sam’s Recipe for Success

Full of Beans

~

SAM YAO: Hello, listeners! Sam here, coming live from Abel's kitchens. We're going to kick off another workout in a minute, so while I'm talking, why not do a little warming up? Dance about, or jog on the spot, something light and fun. Now I'm not usually allowed in the kitchens because of a little... incident with some marmite shortbread which I thought was a brilliant idea but Janine said was a waste of resources, especially after it caught fire in the oven.

But anyway, as some of you may know, we've had a bit of luck with the giant super horde besieging the countryside. A landslide hit the horde's east flank, scattering a huge chunk of the zoms, so we've got a little window to send runners out with supplies. Dozens of small communities were cut off by the horde, and we're sending care packages to everyone. It's been all hands on deck in the kitchens prepping the deliveries, and we're almost ready to go.

[paper rustles]

So to celebrate, today's first exercise is one I've really started to like. The instructions call it dead bug walking, but I like to think of it as happy puppy flailing. Just lie on your back with your arms and legs in the air, then walk them up and down as fast as you can for one minute, like an excited Labradoodle on its back. Ready? And go! Okay, that's 15 seconds down. Keep those paws wiggling. And that's it, halfway done. Yeah, I-I really think this is a good sign. You know, the horde weakening. A few more natural disasters and it-it could be gone. That's 15 seconds left. Yeah, not-not that we want natural disasters, obviously. Just little disasters. You know, zom-only disasters. And that's it, you're done!

Feel that Labradoodle energy. Okay, yeah, I'm gonna scoot the last crate of eggs and flour down to our dispatch runners, then I'll come right back. Meantime, I'll play some music. You can relax or keep flailing. I've borrowed Runner Seventeen’s latest good times mix, so this song should be perfect for keeping up the good vibes.

~

SAM YAO: All right, that's the last load of supplies delivered to our runners. They'll be leaving any minute. Now I tell you what, Runner Forty-Three has been baking some great treats for each package. You should see the cupcakes! It's amazing what Forty-Three can do with an egg and some scavenged Nutella.

Actually, I've been using the lockdown to work on my own baking. Yeah, well, first it was crochet until we ran out of yarn. Then it was photography, but Maxine wanted the last camera. So Forty-Three has been helping me practice recipes instead, by miming them to avoid wasting supplies. Janine made me promise not to get in the way in the kitchens today though, so I've mostly been carrying cans and crates out to the runners, which gave me the idea for our next exercise, running with cans.

So find yourself two cans or any two objects about as heavy that you can grip, and take one in each hand. But if you're not absolutely sure you've got a solid grip, put each one in a strong bag with a good handle, hold them like that. Then run on the spot, swinging your arms to get your heart pumping, okay? Yeah, let's try one minute of that. And go! Now that's 15 seconds down. Okay, 30 seconds left. Like Forty-Three always says, practice makes perfect. 15 seconds left. Actually, Forty-Three tends to say, that's weird, practice usually makes perfect. Cooking lessons could be going better, to be honest. And you're done. 60 seconds.

Time to rest, unless you want to keep running through... [device beeps] Uh, hold on one sec. Oh... okay. Um, just got an urgent message from Janine. Better take this off the air. I'm gonna cut straight to the next music break, okay? Dance along or run some more, if you fancy it. I'll be right back after this.

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SAM YAO: Um, hello folks. Uh, I've uh... I've got some bad news. You might want to keep can running to distract you. Really wish I didn't have to say this. Apparently, we're not the only ones who decided to take advantage of the weakened horde. There was this group of runners in New Canton, vigilantes going against orders. They figured this was the perfect time to fight the zoms, rounded up a bunch of people, charged at the horde's weakened flank with guns and bombs.

Only well, the zoms got scattered by a landslide, didn't they? So loads of them were buried under rocks, which this lot charged right over. Zom hands came reaching up from the ground, scratching and pulling. Some of the vigilantes went down, some bombs went off early. Zoms got freed from the rock while the rest of the horde honed in on the noise. Basically, it was a bloody mess. And now the horde's as strong as ever. So no supplies going anywhere today.

Well, I know you must be feeling frustrated, listeners, because I am. But, but I've got another exercise that might help channel that. Yeah, uh... [paper rustles] Ah, yeah. Well, this one's pretty simple. Bicep curls. You need weights. Take your cans or whatever you were running with and if you haven't already, put them into bags, one per bag, and make sure each bag has a good handle you can hold. For heavier weights, add more cans. Then press your elbows against your flanks with your hands by your sides and your palms facing up, one hand holding each weight. Bend your elbows to bring the weights up to your shoulders and then down again, okay? Yeah, we'll do 60 seconds of that.

Ready? And go! That's it, 15 seconds down. [laughs] You know, Runner Twelve, stuck in a pub with a pinball machine? He swears this exercise helped him to top the high score. Ah, unless he was tilting it. That's it, halfway done. Concentrate on those weights. It must have been that. That would help, actually. 15 seconds left. And done. Now I hope that gave you all something else to focus on for a bit. Uh, I'm gonna play some music now, do a few curls myself. Because honestly, I've got a lot of frustration that needs channeling here.

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SAM YAO: Uh, welcome back everyone. Yep, I've just had final confirmation from Janine. No one's going out anytime soon. [sighs] I feel sorry for those vigilantes, I really do, but how could they be so stupid, charging a super horde like that? Now they've gone and made things worse for everyone, [sighs] because they couldn't stand staying in and feeling useless, I guess. I get it. Yeah, I mean, I-I want to be doing more too, but we can't go off half-cocked, not when the stakes are this high. It's like Maxine says, right? The Z-virus is a medical problem and medical problems need patience. [laughs] I know it's a really bad pun, but it's true.

Anyway, in case anyone out there wants to reinforce their barricades now that the horde's been strengthened, we're going to do an exercise that's good for lifting furniture: squats. I bet most of you know this already. Stand with your arms at your sides and your legs hip-distance apart, then squat down like you're sitting on an invisible chair. Make sure your knees don't come out further than your feet and your bum is sticking out. And we're going to go for one minute of those. And go!

15 seconds down. Imagine you're lifting a sofa. 30 seconds down. Get that barricade reinforced. 15 seconds left. Just a couple more cabinets to lift. And done. Good job, everyone. I'm gonna play some more music for anyone who wants to keep going, but remember, you need to look after yourselves as well as your barricades, so don't be afraid to stop and rest.

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SAM YAO: You know what, listeners? I always try and look on the bright side, but the truth is this is, um, this is getting to me. Yeah. I really thought it was going to be a good day, and then you know, wham. Janine's checked with the settlements we were going to deliver to and they've all got enough supplies to last a while longer, so... so that's something, at least.

I've uh, I've actually been secretly baking something for Janine. Banana bread based on Runner Forty-Three’s lessons. It was going to be a surprise to celebrate the deliveries. Guess them being cancelled doesn't make a difference. Come out all burned and blackened anyway, like that shortbread.

Oh boy. Ah. I think I need some cheering up here, listeners. I'm um... spiraling a bit. Tell you what. Yeah, there's this one exercise, it always looks sort of silly picturing loads of people doing it at once. Well, it'd put a smile on my face. It's called doing high knees. Just march really fast on the spot for one minute, pumping your arms and bringing your knees all the way up to your waist with each step, like something out of the Ministry of Silly Walks from Monty Python. Ready? And go!

15 seconds gone. Keep those knees up. Halfway done. Honestly, I don't miss a lot of Monty Python, but did you hear Runner Thirty-Four's radio reenactment of Holy Grail last night? I's brilliant. It was brilliant. 45 seconds, almost done. And that's one minute! Okay. That, that did make me feel better, imagining you all doing that. I couldn't help joining in towards the end, I admit it. [timer dings] Oh, and uh, yeah. That's the oven timer. Right, I'm gonna get my blackened, burned mess, listeners, but it's okay. I'm feeling more like I can cope with it now. You guys rest or keep marching to the music until I get back.

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SAM YAO: [laughs] Right, you're not gonna believe this, listeners! I mean, I don't believe it. The banana bread, it's-it's perfect! The top is all nice and brown, and the inside's soft and spongy, and it has that delicious banana-y smell, and it's-it's just... perfect. Possibly thanks to Runner Forty-Three, who left a note on the oven saying set to 180 degrees, not 300. Guess you caught my secret project, Forty-Three. Couldn't have done it without you.

Or you, listeners. You really helped me today. I know this lockdown's tough, but we have to keep reminding ourselves the one thing we can do without going off half-cocked is just... be there, even at a distance. Be willing to help each other past dark days. And we can share the little victories that help us through, like Maxine's photos or Thirty-Four’s radio plays, or banana bread. Because if one of us scores a win, and we're all in this together, it's a win for all of us, isn't it? No matter how small it seems.

Now I'm gonna take this banana bread to Janine. She won't admit it, but it will cheer her up. And I'll put the recipe on ROFFLEnet in case you want to try it! Well, if you don't, that's okay, because exercising is a little victory too, so you're already winning today. We'll get through this, everyone, I know it. And maybe after, we can have some banana bread together. Until then, stay safe. I'll be back on air soon and I promise I'll share all my little victories and I'll cheer for all of yours.

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