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#So that was good even if it meant I didn’t have time for working on cosplay/art stuff
l4ndonorizz · 3 days
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stuck / lando norris x reader
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pairing: lando norris x reader
song: the neighbourhood - stuck with me
summary: you're lando's pr manager and you're fuming because he made a mess again. but he solves the problem when you're stuck in an elevator.
wc: 1.3k
“How are you feeling about this?” you asked, adjusting your bag over your shoulder as you both stepped into the elevator. You didn’t even look at Lando as you spoke, already feeling the headache building at the base of your skull. This wasn’t the first time you had to clean up after one of his slip-ups, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last.
Lando sighed heavily beside you, running a hand through his hair. “Honestly? I’d rather be anywhere else,” he muttered, his tone casual, almost as if this was just another day at work.
You shot him a sharp look, your patience already wearing thin. “Yeah, well, you wouldn’t have to be here if you hadn’t caused a media circus in the first place, would you?”
Lando raised an eyebrow, smirking at your response. “Oh, come on. It wasn’t that bad.”
“Not that bad?” You could hardly believe what you were hearing. “You literally gave the media a goldmine, Lando! And now I have to deal with the fallout because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. Again.”
Lando leaned back against the elevator wall, crossing his arms, clearly enjoying your frustration. “You’re cute when you’re mad, you know that?”
You glared at him. “Don’t start with me. This is serious.”
“I’m always serious,” he said, his tone completely at odds with the grin spreading across his face. “I just think maybe you’re overreacting a little. I mean, it’s my job to get attention, right?”
You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to hold back the irritation bubbling up inside you. “There’s a difference between getting attention for winning a race and getting attention because you’ve said something stupid.”
Lando shrugged, seemingly unbothered. “Yeah, but the media loves a good drama. You should be thanking me for giving you something to do.”
You couldn’t help it—you laughed, but it was the kind of laugh that meant you were one second away from snapping. “Oh, right. I should be thanking you for making my life harder? Because now I have to smooth this over so you don’t look like a complete idiot?”
Lando’s grin widened. “Maybe you’re just jealous, huh?”
You blinked, thrown off by the sudden shift. “What?”
“You heard me,” he said, leaning in slightly, his voice teasing. “Maybe all this stress is because you’re a little jealous of the attention I’m getting. You know, from the fans, the press...the ladies.”
You felt your face heat up, a mix of anger and embarrassment rising to the surface. “Jealous? Of you? Absolutely not.”
“Sure,” he said, dragging out the word, clearly not buying it. “You definitely weren’t fuming when that journalist asked me out last week.”
Your eyes narrowed. “I was fuming because it was unprofessional, and we were in the middle of a press conference. Not because I’m jealous.”
Lando shrugged again, his smirk still firmly in place. “If you say so.”
Before you could respond, the elevator suddenly jerked to a stop, the lights flickering for a moment before everything went still. You both froze, glancing around the small space.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered, pressing the button for the next floor. Nothing. You pressed it again, harder this time. Still nothing.
Lando looked at you, eyebrows raised. “Well, this is awkward.”
You groaned, running a hand through your hair. “Of course. Of course this would happen today.”
Lando, ever the optimist, leaned back against the wall again, sliding down until he was sitting on the floor. “Guess we’re stuck.”
You shot him a look of pure exasperation. “We can’t be stuck. We have the press conference in less than an hour. I don’t have time for this.”
He patted the floor beside him, looking up at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Come on, sit down. Might as well get comfortable.”
You huffed but eventually gave in, sliding down the wall to sit beside him. You were both quiet for a moment, the weight of the situation settling in.
“This is just perfect,” you muttered. “Now we’ll miss the conference, and everyone will assume you’re dodging questions.”
Lando chuckled softly. “Hey, at least we’ll have a good excuse. ‘Sorry, we’re trapped in an elevator.’”
You glared at him. “This isn’t funny, Lando. You’ve put yourself in a bad spot, and now I have to be the one to clean it up. Again.”
He looked at you, his expression softening just a little. “You’re really stressed about this, huh?”
You sighed, leaning your head back against the wall. “Yeah, I am. It’s my job to make sure you come out of this looking good, and you keep making it harder.”
Lando was quiet for a beat before nudging you lightly with his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I know I’m a pain sometimes.”
You rolled your eyes, though the edge in your voice had softened. “Sometimes?”
He grinned, clearly relieved that you weren’t completely mad at him anymore. “Okay, most of the time. But hey, you’re amazing at what you do. You always fix it.”
You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “I have to be, with you around.”
“See?” Lando said, his voice light again. “You should really be thanking me.”
You shot him a playful glare, nudging him with your elbow. “Don’t push it.”
The tension between you softened as the teasing subsided, replaced by something more subtle. Lando looked at you, his eyes lingering on yours for a moment longer than usual, and suddenly the air in the elevator felt different. There was a shift, something unspoken but undeniably present. You were close, closer than you realized, and for the first time, you could feel a kind of weight behind his gaze.
“You know,” he said, his voice quieter now, “I don’t think I’ve ever told you just how much I appreciate everything you do for me.”
You blinked, not expecting the sincerity in his tone. “Lando, it’s my job—”
“No,” he interrupted, leaning in just slightly, his expression serious. “It’s more than that. You put up with me, you deal with all my shit, and... I don’t know. You’re always there.
His words hung in the air, thick with meaning you didn’t quite know how to process. Your heart was pounding, and you could feel the heat rising in your chest as the silence stretched on. Before you could say anything, the elevator jolted, the lights flickered, and the soft hum of the machinery kicked back in. The doors didn’t open yet, but you knew it was only a matter of time.
But then, in that suspended moment, Lando moved closer, his eyes searching yours, and before you could fully process what was happening, he leaned in and kissed you.
It wasn’t rushed or hesitant—it was a slow, deliberate kiss, as if he’d been thinking about doing this for a long time. His hand came up to cup your face, and for a second, you forgot about everything—the press conference, the mess he’d caused, the fact that you were his PR manager.
The kiss deepened, your hands instinctively reaching for his shoulders, and for that brief moment, nothing else mattered. Just the two of you, in this small, confined space, finally letting the tension between you spill over.
The elevator doors dinged softly, snapping you both back to reality. You pulled away, your breath coming in short gasps, eyes wide as the situation hit you.
Lando let out a soft, breathless laugh, his forehead resting against yours. “Guess we’ll have to finish that later.”
You could only nod, still too stunned to form words.
With one final smile, Lando stepped out of the elevator, and you followed, your mind still reeling from the kiss that had just changed everything.
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themultifanshipper · 2 days
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hatesex with Daniel Riccardo x reader 🟠 reader is a sister of either max or Norris lol whatever works for you but they're at a party then Daniel and reader get to a huge argument max/Lando told them to settle it privately so they went to the guest room to talk it out and I guess you know where the story goes from here (reader getting absolutely railed by Daniel)
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It’s hard to make a name for yourself in motorsports when your last name is already famous, in the form of a three time formula one world champion.
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Warnings: driver!reader, Verstappen!reader, bickering, Daniel is a real dick in this one guys, but so is reader, rancid vibes, smut, PinV sex, rough sex, kinda dubious consent at first, choking, y’all know the drill, basically fighting and fucking at the same time, it's something
(Also I forgot to put the first prompt in the fic but it's the viiibe)
You'd trailed behind him, following his every step (with a few years difference) and at the age of 21 you were starting your second year driving for VCARB.
You had met Daniel back when he and Max were teammates, and you immediately disliked him.
He flirted with everything that had a pulse, and he'd jokingly made a pass at you, and you'd gone straight to tell your brother.
You were 15.
It didn't go down well, at all.
On both sides. Max was furious at him for flirting with you, and Daniel was furious at you for snitching given that he had no idea Max was your brother.
You'd always been a hot-headed child. Using your mouth before your brain was your biggest flaw.
Then Daniel moved to Renault and you didn't see him again much after that.
But you vowed that if he was still in F1 by the time you got there, you would make his life a living hell.
And it was just your luck, Perez got fired at the beginning of 2023, Yuki was promoted, and your teammate Nyck was dropped mid season. Which meant that through some kind of fucked up twist of fate, Daniel Ricciardo was now your teammate. And to make matters worse, Redbull's circus pony also had the seat the year after.
You were the Verstappen project 2.0, and Daniel was a deeply resentful motherfucker.
Forget Senna and Prost, forget Brocedes, forget the old Verstappen-Ricciardo rivalry.
There was a new Verstappen in town, and she was worse than the last.
More aggressive, more petty, more youthful, and more talented (although Max would disagree with that last one).
Daniel didn't stand a fucking chance.
You'd even tried to buy each other out of the team, unsuccessfully.
But you did have one thing over him, and he didn’t even know it yet. Max was retiring after his 4th title, and you had been given his seat.
Max of course was good friends with Daniel, which made social situations quite awkward sometimes.
Like the party you were currently at.
You had won the last race, in Australia of all places, and there was a two week break during which Lewis (coming off the high of a p2 in a shitbox of a Mercedes) decided to throw a massive party in his penthouse.
Lewis knew how to throw a party, no one could deny that, but he seriously needed to be more careful what kind of scum he let through his front door.
That was your alcohol addled mind talking as you spotted Daniel walk in, stupid shirt open showing his stupid toned chest and stupid pants accentuating his slutty waist and stupid thick thighs…
That was also the alcohol talking.
Somehow you both ended up in the same circle on the patio along with a few other drivers.
The conversation inevitably steered towards Daniel's future in F1 given that he didn't yet have a contract for the 2025 season.
“So how does it feel being outperformed by not one, but two Verstappens in your career?”
You knew the question was petty and stupid and could only lead to another one of your regularly scheduled shouting matches, but you didn't give a shit.
He stopped mid-sentence and narrowed his eyes at you.
“And, how does it feel that you're in a backmarker team 14 years into your career, being overshadowed by someone in their second year?”
The silence was palpable, the other drivers were sipping their drinks and pretending they weren't listening.
Daniel was staring at you as if he couldn't believe you would dare start this shit in front of the others.
But you were drunk and loose lipped and right now you were capable of saying anything to rile him up.
Such as-
“And, hear me out, wouldn't it be funny if I got the Redbull seat before you do? And I didn’t even have to suck Christian's dick to get it!”
The fact that you were getting the other seat next year hadn't been revealed to the public yet, or the other drivers, or Daniel.
The words hit the group like a freight train, and you almost regretted opening your mouth, but the look on Daniel's face made it entirely worth it.
His nostrils flared and he slowly got up, didn't say a single word, and went back inside.
 The circle let out a collective breath.
“No comeback” you sighed, disappointed, downing the rest of your glass.
Lando, who was sitting next to you stared at you “Is it true about the Redbull seat?”
You smirked at him.
“Maybeee”
You stood up, brushed yourself off and followed Daniel inside, with the intention of getting another drink, when you were stopped in the hallway by your brother.
“What the fuck did you say to Daniel?” he hissed as he pushed you into the kitchen. “He’s angrily ranting about Christian and I just know you have something to do with it!”
You crossed your arms defiantly and stared at the neck of his polo shirt, avoiding his eyes.
“I might have mentioned something about him being washed and not being considered for next year’s Redbull's seat…” you shrugged “He's only angry because it's true”
Daniel chose that exact moment to walk into the kitchen, and when his eyes landed on you he scoffed.
“Getting scolded by your big brother now? Must be hard living in his shadow”
Once again, your mouth reacted quicker than your brain.
“That's rich coming from Redbull's talentless cash cow”
“You only just turned 21 and you're already drinking so much everything out of your mouth is bullshit-”
“Okay, that's it!” Max yelled.
He slammed his drink down next to yours on the counter and dragged you to the nearest guest room, motioning for Daniel to follow you.
“You two are actually driving me up the wall with this shit! I don't know why you hate each other so much but I am sick of the constant bickering. You are not coming out of this room until you find some way to get along!”
He slammed the door shut on his way out and you and Daniel were left in silence.
You just stared at each other, full of contempt.
“I hate you”
“Oh, I know! You’ve made that abundantly clear!”
Silence once again fell upon you because neither of you had anything constructive or remotely helpful to say, so you sat down on the bed and picked at your nails.
He just scoffed again and started pacing around the room.
You didn’t know how long the silence lasted, but it felt like it stretched on for at least ten good minutes before you decided you’d had enough.
You stood up abruptly, planning on storming out of there without a word, your brother be damned, when you stopped by Daniel speaking up before you’d even made it halfway across the room.
“Is true about the RedBull seat?”
You realized for the first time how shitty his situation actually was. And it probably wasn’t made any better by your constant insulting him. And breaking the news to him like that, in front of everyone was probably humiliating, and quite frankly a very shitty thing to-
“Because if it is you definitely don’t deserve it. It should go to a driver that’s earned it with experience, not Max’s second rate bitch of a sister”
Okay, never mind then.
You turned around to face him. “What the fuck is your problem?”
“My problem” he started, pushing himself off the wall he’d been leaning against “is that you don’t deserve that seat, I do.”
“Well despite you sucking Christian’s dick for a decade, he doesn’t agree.”
Daniel stepped towards you, towering over your frame menacingly but you continued “I’ve scored double the points in the first half of this season that you scored in your entire time at this team, so whether you like it or not, I’ll be taking Max’s seat next year.”
He growled and leaned down so that there was barely an inch between your faces. “Say that again, I dare you.”
“Which part? The part about me being better than you? Or the part about how you’ve been bending over for any team boss that’ll have you? It’s not exactl- mmf!”
He’d grabbed your neck and crashed his lips to yours, silencing the onslaught of painful truths he couldn’t accept.
You reflexively grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled him closer, other hand weaving into his hair and pulling, making him grunt as he easily slipped his tongue into your eager mouth.
Fuck it felt good. It had been a while since you’d been able to find a random person who didn’t know who you were to have sex with, so you were slightly pent up. You could feel your body temperature rising as you started getting breathless, and Daniel bit your bottom lip.
You suddenly realised where you were and pushed him backwards roughly.
"I won in Australia"
“Fuck you” he panted.
“Never” you spat at him before attempting to walk past but he intercepted you and pushed you roughly onto the bed.
“Fuck you, fuck your trophy and fuck this fucking dress”
He took advantage of your disorientation to climb on himself and turn you over, hiking your hips up and shoving your dress up. 
“The fuck are you-“  you were interrupted by your panties being dragged down unceremoniously.
You gasped as a finger came to dip between your folds to feel the dampness that had pooled there. “Daniel don’t you fucking dare-“
“Pretty fucking wet for someone who claims to hate me” he slipped a finger in easily pumping it and out a couple of times before adding a second.
“I do hate you, and if you think anything you could possibly do will change that then you’re even more delusional than I thought” you managed to say through gritted teeth as he added a third, before undoing his belt and pushing his pants down just enough to get his hard cock out.
He popped the tip inside and slowly, inch by inch, slip into your tight heat.
I took everything you had in you to not make a sound, you refused to give him the satisfaction.
When he nudged your cervix you shuddered, but your lips stayed firmly sealed.
“Say the word and I’ll stop, sweetheart” he said, voice cracking with how good your walls felt around him, he’d waited for this moment for a long time.
You didn’t make a sound though, and he chuckled as he pulled out halfway.
“Thought so”
He thrusted back in roughly, making you choke on a moan as he continued at a relentless pace and his hips slapped against yours.
You whined quietly and he leaned over you, hips never faltering, to whisper in your ear “what was that beautiful? I didn’t quite catch it…”
After a particularly hard thrust you moaned properly for the first time and he laughed.
“Fuck you” you spat and his hand went to wrap into your hair to pull your head back as he mouthed at your neck.
“I am fucking you, and you’re going to come on my cock. Because even if you get the seat, I’ll get the satisfaction of knowing I have something Max doesn’t. This sweet fucking pussy, drooling helplessly around my cock while he’s in the other room.”
Each thrust was harder than the last, and your eyes were rolling back into your skull as you tried to maintain some sort of control.
But you were failing miserably, Daniel somehow hitting all the perfect spots as your legs gave out and you were forced to lay flat on the bed while Daniel pushed your head down into the pillows and he bullied his cock into your weeping cunt mercilessly.
“Daniel, fuck!” you whimpered, you high quickly approaching after the change of angle “Shit, I’m gonna…”
You were right on the edge, but Daniel pulled out suddenly, ripping your orgasm from your grasp.
“What-!”
He turned you over and pressed you into the mattress by your neck and shoved his cock back into you before you could protest further.
“I want to see you come undone on my cock, see your pretty face as you lose control.”
You gave him the most hate-filled look you could muster, but it quickly slipped away when he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder to deepen the angle.
Small whimpers escaped you despite you biting your lip to keep quiet.
That displeased Daniel greatly, so he grabbed your jaw and leaned over you.
“Open.”
He was so forceful you had no choice but to comply and he shoved two fingers in your mouth and pressed down on your tongue to stop you from concealing your noises.
“Wanna hear you baby, I want Max to hear how his precious little sister is actually a whore. How Christians new driver is fucking ruined on my cock. How despite how much you think you hate me, you’re going to scream my name while I fill you up.”
Your hands were scratching down his back at this point, only encouraging him to go harder, and your abandoned high quickly came back full force.
You moans got higher in pitch and Daniel used his other hand to rub messy circles over your puffy clit, essentially throwing you over the edge as your orgasm knocked the wind out of you.
Your cunt spasmed and clenched around Daniel and there wasn’t much he could do to hold off his own high as he came inside you, head falling to the crook of your neck as his hips finally grinded to a halt.
He didn’t move for a while as you both lay there catching your breaths, slowly coming to terms with what you’d just done.
“Max is going to fucking kill you” you said, and he snorted before pulled out.
“Oh please, Max is in love with me. Besides, who’s gonna tell him? You?” he raised a cocky eyebrow as you pursed your lips.
He was right, you sure as hell weren’t going to tell your brother about this.
“Whatever, you’re paying for my plan B. I’ll send you the bill.”
He just chuckled as you quickly got to your feet to pull your dress down and straighten yourself up in front of the large mirror in the corner (God, Lewis was a freak) before going off to find a bathroom to clean yourself up properly in.
In the corridor, you ran into Max, who crossed his arms and blocked your path.
“Well? Did you two sort it out?”
“No” you growled and he sighed dejectedly.
You didn’t have time for this though, you could feel Daniel’s cum leaking out of you and running down your leg, so you pushed Max out of the way and rushed to the nearest bathroom.
Unbeknownst to you, Daniel came out of the bedroom right after, and just as Max looked at him he was still putting his belt back on.
It didn’t take a genius to guess what that meant, Max saw red as Daniel froze, the older man noticing him a beat too late.
Well, so much for keeping it on the down low…
The rest of the season was going to be interesting…
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twst-drabbles · 2 days
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Jamil 17
Summary: You and Jamil lay in his bed in his dorm room. While you’re very tired, you’re visibly not bothered by the social implications of being in the bed of another. Jamil, on the other hand, is a little too aware.
(I saw the birthday card and went “eh, why not?” and wrote this.)
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Was this something common in your world? Where, out of nowhere, people will just casually ask their friends if they can sleep with them in their bed? Because that’s what you did to Jamil. You approached him, luckily out of earshot from anyone important, and asked that very question with zero shame.
“Hey Jamil? Mind if I sleep with you in your bed tonight?”
Jamil will admit, it took him a good five seconds for him to register the words. And, he will also admit that he banged his knee against the table he was cleaning. Hit it so hard actually that he curled up into a ball, and practically retreated into his hoodie because why would you ask that?! In broad daylight?!
But you know what’s the worst part about all this? Jamil actually got excited. Giddy even! When the hot flush flooding through his body finally settled, all that was left was this glowing feeling.
At the time, he thought that his charms have finally got to you. That all his efforts to be in your good graces have begun to bear fruit.
And so he said, “You know what? Yes, let’s do that. Setting aside the way you asked that, I think I can find it in my heart to forgive that.”
Past him’s an idiot. For all those times he thought himself above the hormonal college students, turns out Jamil was no better. He supposed it was only a matter of time before he was humbled.
And so here Jamil lays on his side of the bed, dressed in his best pajamas, surrounded by the best sheets and pillows he uses for special occasions, and you laying on your stomach, reading the next chapter for one of your classes.
You came in with a tired wave, bag at hand, and flopped over in his bed. And you’ve been in that pose since.
“So, this was what you meant.” Jamil said. Now that his judgment is clear again after an hour of doing nothing, he really should’ve known you didn’t mean anything special by what you asked. Shame on him for expecting an extra meaning to them.
“Hmm? Oh, was the way I asked weird?” You glanced towards him. Jamil recognizes that exhausted look weighing in your eyes. Perhaps, through the rose-tinted glasses, Jamil didn’t notice. Once again, shame on him. Jamil should suffocate himself with these pillows. “Sorry about that. I just really want one good night of sleep. Just one.”
The urge to hit himself with the pillows lessened. Jamil moved onto his stomach, and copied your position, propping his chin on the pile. “Is there something wrong with your bed?”
You put your phone down. “Weather’s getting hotter and I still don’t have a working air con. It gets so humid at night that I sweat through the night. Can barely get more than three hours of sleep at a time.”
…of course the headmage would neglect to give you something as simple as a stable heating and cooling. Leave it to him to ignore your problems while he goes off doing whatever else. Probably binge watching an old drama that’s not even any good.
“I can’t imagine it’s been easy to deal with. Though, I have to ask, why my bed? You have others that you’re closer to, don’t you?”
Others such as Ace and Deuce, but Jamil didn’t want to say their names. It’s childish but he doesn’t want to see if your eyes light up at their mere mention.
You stretched your spine and settled down. “Yeah I know other people, but–how do I say this–they’ll make it weird.”
Weird? Like how Jamil preparing everything from the lights, to the blankets and even stuffing his drawer with extra wipes just in case wasn’t weird? What?
“Wait, what you mean by weird?” Now Jamil’s worried. Did something happen for you to say that? Did someone do something to you?
You waved off his concern. “Well, see, originally I was just going to ask Rook since he doesn’t mind sharing spaces with anyone, but he’s also very into cuddling and I’m not in the mood for that.”
“That’s true, he’s very open about that kind of thin–wait you cuddled him before?” Since when?
“Cuddled him plenty of times. Rook gives the best hugs without trying to flirt with me. Anyways, Rook wasn’t an option, and neither are Ace and Deuce since there’s no room to spare. There was Leona but after that whole ordeal with Azul, I really don’t want to go back there. And as for asking Azul himself… I feel like he’d charge me for that. So, here I am.”
Oh. Well, when putting it like that, it does make sense doesn’t it? So long as you don’t figure out exactly what went through his head when you asked. He’ll just keep quiet about that.
Jamil sighed into his pillow. “While I want to ask why you didn’t ask Kalim, but I know him too well. A peaceful rest isn’t something he can give, not with the way he sleeps.”
You patted his shoulder and it took everything in Jamil to not jump out of his skin. “You get it. So, yeah, thanks Jamil, for not saying no. Honestly, I was ready to find an empty classroom and just sleeping in there.”
Jamil narrowed his eyes. “Don’t do that. You’ll get in trouble. Just sleep here for the time being. When I have time, I’ll see about pestering Crowley into getting everything in order.”
“You do too much for me, Jamil. Really.”
While things didn’t play out the way he wanted to, the warmth flooding in his chest has not once went away. If anything, from the sight of your smile, it threatened to overflow.
This is nice, that you trust him like this.
“…alright, this is still bothering me. How did you and Rook even start cuddling in the first place?”
And can he add himself onto that list of people you cuddle with?
“Hahaha, yeah that is strange, right? Alright, may as well tell you.”
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whimsiwitchy · 2 days
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cyg part six teaser...
hi everyone. I appreciate you all for being so patient with me as I work through my mess lol. here's a tiny teaser for the opening of part six to hold you over. part six will be out this weekend! enjoy <3
*spoilers below*
Waking up in Hugh’s arms was heaven. He was still asleep when you first opened your eyes, his soft snores tickling your ear. You were grateful that he didn’t have those loud old man snores like some of your past lovers had, though you were sure you wouldn’t mind if he did. Gently lifting the arm that was wrapped around your waist, you carefully rolled over to face him. As you studied his resting face, you felt overcome with a deep sentiment of gratitude. He was just as handsome asleep as he was awake. The face that almost always carried a smile was at peace, lips slightly ajar. You adored his face, the deep lines showing a life of joy and laughter. Each nook and cranny aging him beautifully over the years. It made you sad in a way. You wished you could have experienced life with him, wanting nothing more than to have the ‘right’ life with him. A life where your relationship with Hugh made sense and was accepted- but you would gladly take whatever time you could get with him. 
You placed your hand on his cheek, sliding your fingers delicately over the course hairs that covered his jaw. Your chest felt warm. The feelings you had for the man who slept so deeply before you had grown stronger than you’d anticipated, but Hugh made it so easy to fall for him. And you had fallen for him, you knew that now. If one thing for certain came out of this time you’d spent with Hugh, it was that you were unbelievably in love with him. You had always found yourself falling too fast for the wrong people but you had good faith that for once it would be right. For once, you wouldn’t get hurt. You trusted him to protect your heart and to do right by you. You knew he would. 
As much as you wanted to stay and count every wrinkle that laid upon his face, you had to pee really bad. You gave him a soft kiss on the tip of his nose and wiggled slowly out of his grip. You gave him one last look over before heading down the hall to the bathroom. As you sat there, memories of the night before danced around your mind. The way he kissed you, touched you. He made you feel like you were worth something. It was a feeling you weren’t used to, always feeling used by other men and deep down you know that all you were to them was just some young girl to fuck. You never actually meant anything to them. Hugh was different. Being with him felt right. You couldn’t find any other words to describe the feeling. He hadn’t brought you here to have sex,  for once it was you who had made that decision. He bought you flowers and a cake to congratulate you on an achievement that no one else cared to celebrate with you. He cared for you in some capacity and it made you feel horrible, because even with all this confirmation, you still had doubts.
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the sun + the sand - pt. one - origins
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↳PAIRING: bff!rafe cameron x fem!reader
↳SUMMARY:you have a stalker, but your best friend rafe won't let anything happen to you, even if he has to come clean about how he really feels.
↳WARNINGS: mentions of stalking, blackmail, inappropriate behavior (not from rafe), protective!rafe, etc.
↳A/N: this is a repost from my old blog @illicitfixations + @lovelornanonymity. all of my works are being reposted to this one + the previous blog has been deactivated.
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Rafe sat in the cab of his midnight blue ford, he felt the engine rumble through the leather of the seat he sat in. His fingers tapped in annoyance against the steering wheel as he waited for you. Your phone call was nothing short of the usual as you begged him sweetly to come scoop you up from your latest sexual escapade – John B Routledge. The first time, he had thought it was a fling, with you, it always was. He knew deep down, once you had your fair share of what a pogue could offer you; nothing, you’d settle down with Topper and spend your days the way you were meant to. He held out hope that this was a phase and nothing more. But, the more times you had asked him to pick you from the cut in the middle of the night, the more worried he got. The more times he did this with you, the more worried he was that you were falling in love. The thought destroyed him; he couldn’t blame John B, really; you were the most beautiful thing the island had ever seen with a personality to match. You spent your time chasing baby turtles through the sand for crying out loud and as much as he loved you, he knew that if he didn’t deserve the goodness of your heart, neither did John B. Rafe was brought out of his thoughts as his passenger door swung open and your ruby red lips were the first thing he took in as they wrapped themselves around a solo cup. 
“You cause enough trouble, today?” 
He said, giggling as he took you in, the glimmer of your eyes sending shivers down his spine, as it always had. You climbed into the truck with a giggle as you placed your back against the warmth of the heated leather. He knew you’d be cold as the October wind brushed against your tan legs. 
“Enough for the both of us.” 
You replied, giving him the bright smile he was so desperate to see all day. He grabbed your hand, pulling the cup from your hands, sniffing it and grimacing. 
“What the fuck are you drinking?” 
He asked incredulously. 
“I don’t know, one of John’s friend’s made it for me. It tastes like jungle juice.” 
You replied, giggling. 
“What did I tell you about taking drinks from strangers, huh?” 
 He growled. 
“Okay, grump pants. I thought I was fine. John was there. I was handling it.” 
You replied, shrugging your shoulders. 
“How many times do I have to tell you that John B doesn’t have your best interest at heart, sweetheart? You don’t know him well enough to be drinking around him. Not every guy will be as good to you as me, Topper, and Kelce.”
You rolled your eyes as Rafe finished his sentence and he threw the drink out the window, watching as the recycled plastic rolled against the grass. 
“Rafe! I’m thirsty, dammit!” 
He threw the truck in reverse, one hand on the back of your seat. You admired him, as you always did; the yellow t-shirt that hugged his muscles and the backwards cap that sat against his perfectly sculpted face. Rafe was something out of a magazine and you were no stranger to that, but he was also your best friend and it would have to stay that way. 
“I know you are.” 
He replied simply. You continued to watch him as he drove, the muscles of his forearm contracting every time he moved his arms. By the time he pulled into the gas station, you realized you were in a trance, a common occurrence when you were in his presence. There was a reason you called him instead of your other two stooges late at night. Maybe he knew or maybe he didn’t. Rafe stepped down from the truck, moving toward the gas pump and inserting his debit card before inserting the pump into his truck and waiting until it stopped. He made his way around the car only moments later and opened your door. 
“What are you doing?” 
You questioned him with furrowed eyebrows as he grabbed your hand and eased you down from the height of his truck. 
“I’m buying my favorite girl a slushie, what are you doing?” 
He replied, playfully and you smiled as you walked beside him. Once you finished the journey across the parking lot, Rafe stepped ahead of you and you wanted to punch him for it at first. That is, until he held the door open and you walked through the door of the gas station. He was kind with you and you never tell anyone the version of him that you go to see. You’d never tell anyone that the big, bad, Rafe Cameron had a heart of gold. You’d never tell anyone he was a big ol’ teddy bear deep down. You followed him to the slushie machine, where he lifted the knob, pouring the red liquid into your cup and the blue into his. You thought the color variations were interesting and a tell of how different the two of you really were – fire and ice, warmth and hostility, all wrapped in one blanket to mend together two people who couldn’t live without the other. 
The two of you exited the store together, retreating back to his truck before you spoke again. He handed you his iced beverage, the polar bear on the outside of it reminding of your childhood. Rafe knew this and he knew that’s why you loved slushies, yet it perplexed him why you only shared them with him. He placed the keys in the ignition, turning them over as the engine roared to life. You compared a lot of things to Rafe, almost every boy, every scenario, every situation. Yet, none of those things made you feel as alive as five minutes alone with him. You wondered if he knew. You wondered if he was capable of understanding that he held the key to the diary of you. You handed him his slushie and he gave you a smile as he watched you put your seatbelt on, knowing he had no intentions of going anywhere any time soon. 
“What are you smiling at?” 
You questioned him, returning the sentiment. 
“Just how crazy you are.” 
He replied, chuckling and watched as your eyes lit up as you sucked the cold bits of your beverage through the straw. 
“You always rescue me from my crazy antics, though, so I'd say it's worth it.” 
You said, struggling your shoulders and continuing to slurp down the cold goodness. 
“Who was there tonight?” 
He questioned, his tone turning serious, though doing his best to keep it light enough to avoid your suspicious gaze. 
“Me and John b and some of the other pogues.” 
You replied. 
“What other pogues?” 
He asked with more edge in his voice. 
“Uh, I don't know. That JJ kid I think and pope.”
You answered him, wondering why he had that scared look in his eye. 
“Who made you the drink?” 
He questioned. 
“Why, Rafe? Why does it matter?” 
He rolled his eyes at your question. You couldn’t be this naive, he thought. You couldn’t be this careless. 
“Because it just does! How the hell am I supposed to protect you if I don’t know who you’re hanging around when you call me at three in the morning?” 
He grunted out, throwing his head back in exasperation. 
“Oh, uhm. JJ. He made the drink. Listen —, I’m uh, I’m sorry for calling a lot. I won’t call anymore, I didn’t mean to make you upset.” 
You swallowed thickly after the words spilled out of your mouth in a sense of urgency. You only called because you wanted to see him and you knew he’d come. But, you didn’t think about how selfish that was until right now. You fiddled with the hem of your shirt. 
“Sweetheart, no. I always want you to call. I just — I need to know you’re safe and JJ Maybank is not safe, okay?” 
You nodded in response. 
“What do you mean he isn’t safe, Rafe?” 
You never questioned Rafe; not when it came to things of importance. But, you felt the need to now and you weren’t sure why. 
“He has a reputation with girls, okay? All you need to know is that he’s not safe and I’m not gonna tell you not to spend time with John B, I know you wouldn’t listen. So, from now on, I don’t care what’s going on, if you’re uncomfortable, you fucking call me, yeah?” 
His tone was laced with venom. 
“Yeah” 
You responded, swallowing thickly before laying your head on his shoulder. You knew no matter what that Rafe would always take care of you and you’d do the same for him. 
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as always, please let me know if you'd like to be added to my taglist :)
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causenessus · 23 hours
Note
for your event, can I request suna with ⭐️ and 🍳? :D
Almond Butter. | Suna Rintarou
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suna x f!reader
written in 2nd pov and it tore me to shreds
prompts from 1k followers event -> ⭐ -> insomnia & 🍳 -> cooking
"you've adored me before, oh my good looking boy." from good looking (stripped) by suki waterhouse
word count: 1.1k words
notes: fluff <333 i can't help talking about how hot and sexy this man is everytime i write for him i am so in love with him i am barking from him HHHHH— suna being a good boyfriend and brother!!! i love this man to bits and pieces <3 1K WRITING EVENT IS BACK IN SESSION!!! AND SO AM I!! NESS!! FOR A SINGLE DAY!! WITH CRAPPY WRITING!! i'm obsessed with him and him only using petnames and also i see this as a scenario being quite early into your relationship with him <3 and basically this being the first time he says "i love you" to you (without realizing it) and you realizing you love him (and being too sleepy to say it)(this makes more sense once you read the drabble)
mango anon, if you see this <3 this is us <3 this is me making u almond butter toast <3
cw: food, talk about food chemistry and how your brain converts food to melatonin using carbs yay science! work is not exactly proofread
you’ve been waiting in your living room for the past 10 minutes.
well, actually, you’ve been waiting for the past two hours to go to sleep but your brain won't let you, no matter how tired you feel.
finally giving up any chance of falling asleep soon in your bed, you let the screen of your phone blind you as you shoot a quick text to your boyfriend:
y/n : taro are you awake? i can’t sleep :( insomnia’s kicking my ass again
you collapse back onto your pillow, throwing your phone haphazardly to your side with a groan. almost immediately, your head pops back up again at the sound of a buzz, and you blindly reach for your phone, looking at its screen.
rin <3 : yeah i am
rin <3 : give me 10 min
you weren’t entirely sure what he had meant by that; if he was busy, and would reply again in 10 minutes or if he was coming over.
you hoped it was the latter, but you'd find out soon enough. in the meantime, you moved to your living room, curled up on your couch under a heavy blanket, dimly lit by the warm light of a nearby lamp as you watched the seconds go by on your phone.
you always slept better with him, whether he was holding you in his arms or he was just simply in the room with you, it felt nice to be in his presence. just the thought of him was slowly making your eyes start to droop before the sound of the door unlocking made you perk up.
there he was, gently swinging your door open, a white plastic bag in hand. his yellow eyes fell on you as you looked him up and down, obviously judging his poor taste in clothing (sweats and a t-shirt) despite it being the middle of winter.
“hi baby,” he whispers, kicking off his shoes before immediately making a beeline towards you. you were peeking out from over the arm of your couch, and he knelt on the floor at the side of the couch, chin propped against the arm of it where you were, leaning in towards your face. there was a smile on his own as he spoke, “don’t fall asleep now, i just got here.”
you can only sigh quietly in response, happy to finally see him. “can’t help it,” you mumble, “‘was thinking of you.”
his smile only grows at your words, and he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, letting a hand run down the side of your face, caressing it carefully. “you’re cute when you’re tired, doll,” he teases as you lean into his touch, too tired to even respond. “at least let me take care of you before you fall asleep though, yeah? i went to the store for you after all.”
“you didn’t have to buy me anything,” you whisper, reaching an arm out to him, trying to get him to join you on the couch.
he grabs your hand, rubbing a thumb lovingly over the back of it, but doesn’t let you pull him down, “of course i’ll buy you things, y/n. i love you. can i make you something to eat?”
you hum in thought, thinking about if you really want to allow him to move you, but when he tugs gently at your arm, you get up (begrudgingly) bringing your blanket with you to the kitchen.
you rest your arms on the counter you’re sitting at, lazily watching his figure move through your kitchen, pulling items out of his bag. “what’re you doing?” you eventually question, eyeing his selection of groceries with confusion. the jug of milk you can understand, but not the jar of what you assume to be jam and a nut butter.
“‘making you toast,” he answers, rummaging through your drawers for a knife, “my sister used to have trouble sleeping sometimes too, and she’d always wake me up instead of our mom so i had to figure out what helped.”
“and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are supposed to help you fall asleep?” you ask, sitting up to rest your head on your hand as you watch him pull a plate from your cupboard.
the bread he dropped into your toaster pops back up as he corrects you, “almond butter. my sister hates peanut butter, and rightfully so. almonds are better.” he continues talking as he places the toasted bread on the plate he grabbed, “i had to google what kind of foods you should eat when you can’t sleep and it’s the first suggestion i saw. the almonds have something in them that gets converted to melatonin using the carbs from the bread and jam, or something like that.”
you nod along like you really care about whatever science he’s rambling about when really, all you can pay attention to is how nice his voice is. ever since he entered your apartment, you’ve realized how much he was all you needed to sleep. you’re slowly getting more attached to him and the longer you date him, the more sure you are that you love him, too.
he slips into the seat next to you, sliding the plate of toast over to you. you mumble a small thanks, biting into the sandwich before opting to lean against him, your head resting on his shoulder while the rest of your body is wrapped in the heavy blanket you brought from your couch.
you hum in satisfaction, deciding that maybe rintarou was right about whatever science is behind the contents of this sandwich, or maybe he just needs to research the effect he has on you. you’re sure just being in his presence is sending melatonin straight to your brain–or however he said that works. “rin,” you hum, eyes closed as you remain leaning against him.
“what is it, sweetheart?” he asks. one of his arms has moved to wrap around your back, holding you close while one of his fingers grazes the skin of your arm, drawing lazy circles onto it.
“will you stay the night, too?” you ask, taking another bite of the sandwich.
he can’t help but smile, watching you snuggle up against him, scooting your chair and plate closer to him, closing the gap between you two. “of course, love, if that’s what you want,” he whispers, pressing a kiss into your hair.
you nod in response to the statement, holding up your sandwich to his mouth for him to take a bite of. “you're good at making sandwiches, but i think all i need is you to fall asleep,” you mumble tiredly and he chuckles.
“if you fall asleep here, i’ll have to carry you to your bed, you know,” he warns, but you're already drifting in and out of sleep, the plate on the table in front of you both now empty, besides a few crumbs of bread.
“that’s okay,” you try to say, fighting a losing battle against the sleep that's slowly overtaking you. “you can do it,” your last words of encouragement make his heart twist before your head lolls slightly, and he knows you’ve knocked out.
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taglist: @akaakeis @wyrcan @daisy-room @eggyrocks @cheriisae @alexithemiyatic @kameyyy @iiwaijime @chaotic-neutral-ig @bakery-anon @kakeru-eem
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cloudycera · 2 days
Text
Guardian Shazam interactions I’ve decided make sense.
*HomeSchooled?*
Freddy: I’ll give you whatever book you want but I can’t teach you nothing.
Mary: No one was asking, Billy when you first said you were home schooled I was under the impression you meant it. You know like someone was teaching you.
Billy: I did mean it Mary, I just teach myself at home, that counts. I can read perfectly fine and I can do basic math and stuff.
Freddy: Then why do you want the textbooks?
Billy: It’s nice to know what kids are up to nowadays!! Always exciting to get my hand on actual schoolwork so I know I’m not that behind.
Freddy:……..Please just ask me to get you something inappropriate next time-OW!
Mary: Be quiet. I get it Billy, learning is still important even if you don’t go to school, I’ll bring you some of my homework and teach it to you if you want.
Billy: Thanks Mary :D
*Lovely Little Lady in the Justice League*
G.Shazam: I know it’s weird but I can fling half of you 50 feet in the air with one hand so please stop staring at me.
Superman: I apologise I’m just still confused on how you and Batman came to this agreement?
G.Arrow: Yeah what could’ve possessed him to string you into the league.
G.Shazam: Oh I wasn’t “stringed?”- em- “Strung along”? It’s not like that I wanted to join because it seemed like it’d be nice to get to know more heroes.
Batman: And I lost a good game of Poker in hell.
Flash: Excuse me?
Batman: Long story, Ms. Shazam helped me out and I when she asked if she could join I couldn’t say no…..apparently Lucifer is really scared of her.
G.Shazam: Oh you didn’t lose Mr. Batman, demons don’t play regular poker so they were definitely cheating and Mr.Lucifer never calls them out on their bad behaviour. I didn’t help you to get in the league promise, it’d be mean if I just left you with all that trouble.
Wonder Woman: Hahah! No need to be shy young one we can all see your honesty.
Superman: *whispering* Are you sure this is a good idea, she’s a kid?
Batman: She’s level headed, humble and works good in a team. With enough guidance who knows how far she’ll go, plus there’s nothing wrong with adding a youthful perspective.
Superman:…….”Youthful Perspective” Bruce….. You have like 9 kids how much youthful perspective do you need.
Batman: They’re not in the League.
Superman: That’s your only justification?!
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that-sarcastic-writer · 18 hours
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Hi can u please write about domestic life with Bills Eric Draven? Can there be fluffy and smutty moments? Tyyyy
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Boy can I??? I’d be DELIGHTED. His domesticity is all I think about. He’s the sweetest, kindest and most loving bf and you can’t change my mind. I got a little carried away! Hopefully this is what you were wanting! Enjoy doll!
Bf!Eric x gf!reader. Explicit sexual content under the cut, minors dni, oral (f receiving), p in v. brief mentions of drug use, mostly fluffy relationship stuff
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It wasn’t entirely easy. You and Eric. The circumstances under which you met and the nature of the both of you was quite dysfunctional. You were chaos, and he was a mess. But it worked. The two of you. You worked perfectly. You weren’t sure what it was, you had never been able to maintain a healthy relationship with anyone. But it was almost like you were meant to be together. If you didn’t believe in the whole soulmates thing, you started to believe it when you met Eric.
He was so unreal, so out of this world. He was always by your side, fingers laced with yours, arm thrown over your shoulder. He always had to be touching you, whether it was something as little as holding your hand, or going as far as putting you in a matting press when he fucked you, because he hated the idea of not being as close to you as possible. He never meant to, he didn’t even know what it was. He just did it one day. Your knees damn near next to your head, your body nearly folded in half as he draped his body over yours. You didn’t even know your body could bend this way. But god this you like it. How deep he could be this way. And you had him so close you could hear his little sounds, his hard breathing and his soft grunts.
He always felt a little bad, manhandling you around like you were nothing. If he wasn’t bending your body in ways you didn’t think were human, he was putting you in a headlock as he took you from behind, one arm draped around your neck from shoulder to shoulder. He just wanted you close, afraid you’d run away. But he sometimes forgot to take it easy on you. You always assured him you were more than happy with him, that he wouldn’t hurt you. Deep down it made you all kinds of earn to know you could arise such passions from him. For someone so morbidly quiet and nonchalant, Eric was very intense and passionate lover.
“It’s okay, baby. I got you. You’re doing so good.” He would tell you, his voice soft and quiet in your ear, grounding you as his cock fucked you into nothing. “I just want to make you feel good, hm? Just want to make you feel good. That’s what you deserve.”
“I don’t deserve this. You’re too good for me.” He would say, his lips on your cheek as quiet moans spilled from your lips. “You’re just so… I can’t believe you’re all mine.” His name falling from your lips would be the end of him. So soft and desperate for him. He didn’t have much experience before you, but now he just can’t get enough of you. He wanted to be all over you at all times it actually upset him when you had to leave or when he did.9
But he was also oh so kind, so gentle and patient with you. He always followed you around like an oversized puppy, quietly listening to whatever tangent you would go on about. You could be cursing up a storm (albeit not directed at him) and he would take it with a straight face and big eyes. And it was often that nothing more but his presence would calm you down, center you.
“How do you do it?” You asked him one day, hot tears staining your face after a day of one stressor after another. Eric had managed to get you on the couch where he silently sat you down on his lap. You almost immediately curled up into his lap, legs tucked under you and your head on his chest. You felt an almost instant sense of relief and peace fill you, and you were sighing deeply, feeling your heart slow its fast beating.
“Do what?” He asked you softly, his fingers massaging your head calmly. You rested your hand on his chest, eyes closed.
“This. You calm me down. I was crying two minutes ago and now I feel… okay.” You felt him shrug under you and when you looked up he had a smile on his face. That smile could make you forget any grief or sadness you might have, because none of it really mattered.
But it wasn’t just him who could bring you peace, you were his, too. His lows weren’t as intense or visible as yours, but when he was at his low, he was at an all time low. He wouldn’t speak, he wouldn’t eat, he would just go about his day like a corpse, eyes dead and empty and his mind elsewhere. You understood he had his issues too, so you tried to be there for him without pushing him. You were more subtle. You’d make him dinner, you’d invite him to watch a movie with you. And you’d tangle up with him on the couch as you all but forced him to eat, and you’d talk to him about your day. But something so small always meant so much to him. He couldn’t help the way he felt, he couldn’t help his negative thoughts that drove him to do drugs in the first place, but having you around to remind him someone in this world loved and cared for him, it made it all a little bit easier.
Eric started to bring you flowers one day. Every week once a week, he could come home with your favorite flowers. He alternated colors. With a sheepish smile he’d stand in the doorway with his hands behind his back. And the way he would look at you when gushed about how pretty they were was like he was looking at the most beautiful thing in the world, the only one that mattered. And to him you were. Seeing that smile on your face was the only thing he ever wanted to do.
“You like them?” He would ask as if it wasn’t obvious, but he’d do it just to hear you giggle and watch you all but skip to put them in water. “Yeah? I saw them and thought about you.”
He always thought about you. There wasn’t a single waking second where he didn’t. You were good for him. And he knew that. He didn’t need anything else to fill the emptiness in his chest because he had you. You had filled that hole and he made sure you knew that everyday.
Eric had many ways to show his love and devotion for you. He wrote you poems, he drew for you, you had so many sketches you have started to run out of places to hang them, but this one was by far his favorite. He could spend literal hours between your legs. He absolutely loved it. He was absolutely obsessed with it.
“E-Eric.. Please.” You were shaking, sweating, incoherent as his tongue circled on your clit, his long fingers fucking you through your, fourth, fifth? You stopped keeping count. He had been down there for an eternity. He just kept asking for one more, just one more and he’d leave you alone. But it wasn’t enough. He was quite obsessive with the things he wanted.
But he figured he’d have to give you a break eventually. He was also painfully hard.
“I’m sorry baby.” He muttered softly as he crawled up your body, using the back of his hand to wipe the mess you had made, but his plush lips were still bright red and glistening. “You know I get carried away sometimes… You’re just so..”
He would kiss your face, brush your hair, soothe you back into a functioning human being. It wasn’t often that Eric vocalized his thoughts, but in moments like this when he felt safe and comfortable enough to be vulnerable, he would tell you all about how pretty you were, how talented you were, how much he loved you.
Eric was always full of surprises. He was quiet and nonchalant, but he was impulsive. You learned that very quickly.
“Baby?” You heard Eric call out to you as he came into the loft. You sat on the computer as you listened to one of his recordings. He had asked you to help him out since he really wanted to start pursuing his music and art now that he actually had someone that supported him.
With a smile, you took your headphones off and went to greet him, but you immediately frowned when you saw him hold something wrapped up in his hoodie.
“Hey, whatcha got there?” You stood up, approaching him with narrowed eyes as he broke out a smile.
“I’m sorry. I just found it, I just.. I felt bad.” He pulled down his hoodie to reveal a precious little kitten. A black ball of fur coating its little face. Your heart immediately sank and you wanted to cry.
“Oh my god, Eric.” You took the kitten into your hands and your eyes started watering as you hugged it. Eric wasn’t sure what to make of your reaction. Did you hate it? Were you upset?
“No, baby, I’m sorry. I found it outside, it’s kinda cold and it was drinking from a puddle. I didn’t want a car to hit it. We don’t have to keep it if you don’t want to, we can take it to a shelter or something.” He started to mumble, a hand coming to rub the back of his head and his lips fell open when he saw a tear fall down your cheek. He approached you, reaching to grab your face. “Please don’t cry.”
“No… No Eric I’m not..” You sniffled, laughing softly through your tears as you leaned into Eric’s chest while still hugging the now purring black ball of fur. “I’m not upset at all. It’s just… I’ve never had my own pet before. And it’s so cute, can we keep it, please? It’d be our little child.”
The way you looked at him with big pleading eyes made him feel so warm, he never thought he’d feel something like this. He smiled, nodding as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“Of course we can keep it. He’s kinda cute, right?” Eric chuckled as he scratched the little one’s head.
“Or she.”
Your little ball of fur wasn’t the only thing you and Eric shared. You got so many matching tattoos it was concerning. Your friends and family had even told you it was odd to get tattoos with a guy you had been dating for only a few months. But it didn’t matter to you. You didn’t know why, but deep down you knew your connection with Eric was out of this world. So what were a couple tattoos? You loved that you had a physical reminder of your connection with him. The feelings deep within your souls were forever marked on your skin, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Truth was, Eric loved tracing each and every one of your tattoos. He traced his fingers over the fine lines, traced the words, he traced his lips over them too. He particularly loved the ones on your back and on your stomach, the ones no one but him could see. They were his little secret.
You matched each other perfectly, in every way.
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lumosinlove · 8 hours
Text
Write Me In
Part Five
~
His office felt weird. New York felt weird. Even being with Cassie felt weird. Leo was so groggy in his real life that sometimes, when he was washing his face or sitting in a meeting or grabbing a bagel for lunch, he wondered if he had just been sleeping that whole time with Finn and Logan. He wouldn’t put it past himself to dream up something like that. Leave it to him to think making dinner for two of the biggest names in the music industry was a daydream. And the kissing, of course, but he spent far more time thinking about salt water in Finn’s hair and the way Logan looked walking around the markets. It was all smeared gold in his mind. And then there were the dirty dreams which he kept accidentally thinking about in meetings.
The article was going to lead this month’s issue, which meant it would come out right as Finn and Logan started up their tour again. A crew was being sent out to Nice for the cover shoot and Leo had been so jealous when he found out that he’d had to excuse himself from the meeting for a moment. He missed them. He probably scrolled through their messages too much.
The thread started when Leo had settled into a cab and opened the app to text them that he’d landed, only to find an incoming FaceTime call interrupting him. Leo had saved their numbers under their initials—as if that would really fool anyone. So, when Finn’s first FaceTime had popped up, he’d been more than surprised to find difficult little rock star calling him instead, complete with a photo that Finn seemed to have taken himself—him and Logan basking in the sun, hair wet from the ocean and cheeks smushed together.
Leo had answered with, “and what’s Logan saved under then?”
Finn had just grinned and ran off screen—presumably to grab Logan’s phone because a second later, Leo got a text of !! from grumpy<3
Leo figured that was subtle enough to keep. He’d pushed his headphones into his ears and let Finn’s voice fill his head as the city rose up and greeted him in its sunset.
Somehow, without so much as a ripple, talking to them had started feeling like talking to old friends. Once a day. Twice a day. Photographs of their lunches and messy work spaces in between. When Leo received his fist voice memo, he’d had to lock himself in the bathroom at work and breathe a few times before hitting play.
“Hi, Le,” Finn’s voice said. “Okay—we’re writing today. Lo, hello, say hi.”
“Hi, hey,” Logan said, then let out a wicked cough. “Sorry, Finn made me do one of those ginger shots and I’m in hell.”
Leo covered his laugh with his hand.
“Shut up, it’s good for you,” Finn replied. “Okay, anyway. So, this is called—oh, I’m gonna be on the piano. But this is—and I’m gonna try to play it straight through.”
“Stop interrupting yourself,” Logan said, then it sounded like he got closer to Finn’s phone. “It’s called Neon Signs and it’s off of the new album, and we know your editor wanted you to hear one more song for the piece so—ouais. Go, Finn.”
“I was going to say I’m on the piano and on the album it’s also piano. So. There.” He laughed and played a few chords. “Okay. It’s about one of the times when we almost got together, but we didn’t. We were at a bar that we weren’t old enough for.”
“And Finn got us stuck outside because they wouldn’t let us back in,” Logan said.
“Fool them once, and all that,” Finn cut in.
“It was freezing.” Logan’s voice, then a pause. “And I kissed him.”
“Again,” Finn said, laughing. “Anyway, spoilers. Here we go.”
There were a few seconds of dead air. Just Finn breathing. Leo pressed his headphones against his ears and kicked up his volume in time to hear Logan whisper something in French and Finn hush him.
I wanted you to meet me outside.
We’re not old enough to drink, no, not quite.
And leaving this bar means risking getting stuck out in the cold.
But I said ‘follow me’ you said ‘all right.’
Pulling up your hood against the frost bite.
And now that we’re here, there are too many things I want you to know.
But somehow I can tell tonight is not when you’ll be told
That just the look of you beneath that neon sign
Sure is something to behold…
It’s soft and blue…
Like me and you…
Maybe I’ll do this forever,
Only kiss me when it’s snowing.
Cause at least it isn’t never,
Though I can’t see where we’re going.
If only that light from that neon sign
Made you see me
Just as brightly
Oh God
Where’s my,
Neon,
Bar sign?
One that you can read.
Put it over me.
Bathe me in signals and the arrows pointing where I want to lead.
“Oh,” Leo said softly to himself—reacting to the lyrics, but also to Finn’s piano. It was a meandering, sad tune. As if even the music wasn’t sure what its next note would be. The song took them out of winter next and through to summer. Into humidity, and strings lights and patios and dorm rooms, sweltering with the door closed and no AC. A goodbye—was this them going to college? And it was Logan singing. Fall and desperate for something to last. Finn fumbled a little on the piano, cursed softly, and despite the next sad lyric, Leo could hear Logan smiling. Instead walked into my own past. You’re sitting on the bed and I’ve never felt less or more alone.
Leo listened to it four times. It was hypnotizing. Yes, he knew the story. He’d been given the precious task of telling the story—but they were telling it, too.
Meanwhile, the article was going through drafts and drafts. He’d fought hard to keep the section about Logan’s market in. His editor hadn’t seen the relevance, and maybe Leo’s relevance wasn’t entirely music-based, but those markets were in the songs. Maybe not in so many words, but Logan was as gentle as his voice could be when he was there. He stood still in that space, listening to the rhythm and thrum of the people around him.
Sending cover shoot to you without me :/ Leo typed out.
Finn replied almost instantly: I’ll refuse to pose until you arrive.
Then Logan: I will lock them out.
Ha, Leo wrote.
No Ha. It’s my house.
I’m at the office—in the final meeting for the article. He thought for a second, then smiled as he typed out. Everyone’s so happy for you.
You are coming to our first show, Logan typed out, and then a few seconds later, ? accompanied it, as if Finn had forced it out of him.
I’m coming to a show. Not sure when yet, Leo said. I’m on another project and have to finish it up before—
His eye caught on his phone’s clock. Jesus. He’d been in here for ten minutes texting like a teenager between classes. Before what? Before I can come back to you. Before I can come home, before I can come back because I miss you.
The thrill that came from being able to know he missed them because he knew them was strong.
—before I can make it, he finished. Have to go back to meeting now
Finn sent him five rows or pink hearts, Logan said, we miss you, and Leo sat back down in his meeting with a smile on his face that earned him weird looks. Cassie stared at him until someone asked her a question.
~
“Okay, so you’re gonna spill all your beans now.” Cassie jabbed him gently with her fork at lunch. “Like. Right now.”
“I don’t have beans.” Leo tilted his bowl to her. “This is my mama’s chicken salad recipe. Want some?”
Cassie groaned. “Just tell me why you’re grinning at your phone like an idiot every chance you get!”
“I’m not.”
“You are, you are.”
“I’m not, I’m not.”
“Yes, yeah, yeah, yeah.” Cassie grabbed onto his arm. “Tell me.”
“I’m excited for them,” Leo said. “That’s all. I’ve always looked up to them, and this is a big deal.
“So we are talking about Finn and Logan?”
Leo froze, caught. “Oh.”
It wasn’t his fault. They filled every little space of his mind. And if there was somewhere they couldn’t reach, they pressed up against that part, all warm and insistent.
Cassie threw her head back and squealed. “Leo. Tell me, tell me—”
“Oh-ho my God, they kissed me.”
Cassie stared at him, voice cutting off. Leo slapped his hands over his own mouth.
“You don’t know that,” Leo said quickly, just as Cassie made a soft, breathy sort of screeching sound.
“Wh-at?” she set her fork down with exaggerated precision. “What did you just say?”
Leo glanced around the courtyard they were in, but they were alone. In the shade, sun dappling down on them, and alone.
“They?” Cassie’s hand on his sleeve twisted the fabric. “They kissed you?”
He hadn’t meant to say a word, but the knowledge was like a fire inside of him. Being wanted like this. Being wanted by them.
Cassie started laughing, surprised and delighted. “Leo.”
“Yeah, they—apparently, um.” Leo shook his head. He didn’t even know how to say this. “They’ve been tracking my career since I just had the blog, and we were out by the fire pit and we almost—but we didn’t. And then we talked and I told them about Jack—sort of.”
Cassie’s blue eyes went wide at that, but she stayed quiet.
“And they sort of got why I was saying no.”
“You said no?”
“At first, at first.” Leo pushed his lunch away and dropped his voice. “Okay, okay, okay, sworn to secrecy.”
She squealed again through a shut mouth and hit him repeatedly in the arm.
“So, Nice,” Leo said. “Logan’s house.”
“Yeah, fuck you, by the way, meant nicely but with jealousy.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. But, so that night happened where they made the move a bit—”
“What does that even mean?”
“Mm, hard to explain. They were actually—” Leo’s laugh interrupted his words. “They were so bad at it.”
“Finn O’Hara is bad at making the moves?”
“Only when he means it, apparently.”
Cassie’s waved him on. “Okay, more, I need more.”
“So, we talked it out at the markets.”
“Ah. That’s why you like those sections so much. It’s all coming together.”
“Shut up.”
“And they kissed you there?”
“No,” Leo said. “Logan kissed me, just once, and um…” Leo bit back a grin. “And then later, Finn. Mostly because—I mean we said we’d take it slow and Logan was just keeping that promise, but I may have lost some resolve with Finn because—fuck, because.”
“He’s Finn O’Hara,” Cassie said. “I think ‘fuck, because’ is a fine reason.”
“And that’s when he said they want me to come back once I’m off their project. I mean, I know I have the follow up piece but…then I’ll be done.”
Cassie had her chin in her palm, the way she sometimes did when she was thinking. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.”
She sat up straight. “Both…of them?”
Leo opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. “Honestly, I haven’t been even…feeling strange about that. Is that weird?”
“No,” Cassie said, shaking her head. “I mean, not if it’s working. You’re not, like…jealous?”
“No,” Leo answered. It was the truth. “I know I probably should be.”
“They are basically high school sweethearts,” Cassie said. “Like, this article, the way you describe them…That’s soulmate shit right there. I don’t mean you don’t fit with them, I’m just…”
“I know where you’re coming from, but…” Leo sighed, smiling. “And I went there, too, but it’s just not like that. I like the way they are together. The way they treat each other. I like it as much as I like the way the are with me.”
“Holy shit,” Cassie said, then laughed. “Oh man.” She pushed her lunch aside in favor of pulling her laptop out of her bag. “Holy shit, holy shit, which show do you want? Which show, Le, I want to book that all out right fucking now.”
“It’s one night.”
“Yeah, well, it’s gonna be a hell of a night.”
Leo reached forward and grasped her hand. “Don’t even joke about that with me, I’m a wreck.”
“Yeah, well, you need all the help you can get. You were there for, what, three weeks, and you just kissed?”
“I am—”
“No, I commend you, cowboy, you just have eons more willpower than I do.” She raised her eyebrows at him. “Now, which show?”
Leo had been thinking about it. Of course he’d been thinking about it. He pictured them in different cities. Walking different streets. But, in the end, there was no question. Leo wanted to be where they had figured everything out. Maybe they’d figure out each other, too.
“Italy,” Leo said. “I want Italy.”
~
He was nervous to see them, that was for sure. Cassie always followed through on her work quickly, but Leo felt like he had blinked through being home before he was staring down at an empty suitcase again. Italy. Milan. It would be warm. He’d be there for a week. Something casual for the shows. Something nice for press events. Something comfortable for…mornings? He stared in his underwear drawer for too long. When was the last time he’d had to care what he looked like in his underwear, much less what his underwear looked like. That turned into staring at his t-shirts for too long, only to pick up his Heartthrob O’Hara t-shirtand fold it into his suitcase. Then he sat on the edge of his bed and googled Logan Tremblay t-shirt. They weren’t that good. Grainy photos just plastered on fabric. He typed in Night Swimming lyric t-shirt. There were hundreds, but Leo had fun scrolling. He’d probably added too many things to his cart when he finally found what he was looking for. The shirt was white with four words in forest green on it.
OH MY
GREEN EYES
Leo bit back a smile and ordered it to be delivered tomorrow.
The next night, he was cooking dinner and squinting at his iPad, when the recipe webpage disappeared in favor of an incoming call.
“Milan?” Logan asked when Leo answered.
“Yep,” Leo said. He leaned his elbows on the counter. “Is that okay?”
“That’s longer,” Logan said.
“I know,” Leo sighed. “But it’s when I’m in between projects and can write your follow up.”
Finn mirrored his position, squeezing into the frame beside Logan. “Why don’t you come here right now? I’ll write you a note, get you out of school. Photoshoot tomorrow, you can watch us kiss on camera.” Finn snuck a hand out to grab Logan’s chin when he wasn’t looking and turned his face to kiss him, even if Logan was smiling too much to make it last.
Leo leaned forward. “I…As tempting as that is...”
“I liked it when we were your job,” Finn shot back. “You were around all the time.”
“Oh yeah? Not me,” Leo said. Finn blinked, and Leo fought a smile because he’d got him. “Kissing subjects is…”
“Fun?” Finn said. “A right we may exclusively reserve?”
Logan looked over at him with a smile and Leo was tempted to take a screenshot. He didn’t know how that would go over. He’d never taken a photograph of them himself. He knew that spooked some celebrities. In the beginning, he’d thought he’d die if he offended them. He still felt like that a bit.
“Shut up,” Logan said to Finn. “We don’t want to be Leo’s subjects.”
“I was kidding.”
“Listen,” Leo said. “It’s a right you can reserve, I’d just prefer you do it as you and not as Night Swimming.”
“Deal,” Finn said. He put his palm over the camera briefly, as if they had shaken on it. “What are you doing?”
“I’m cooking dinner.” Leo said, mimicking Finn’s sing-song—and then realized he’d basically just sung in front of Finn and tried to forget about it. “What are you doing?”
“Waiting for you to come back,” Logan said.
Leo arched a brow. “To cook you dinner?”
“Non,” Logan laughed. He rested his chin on a palm, and Leo got basically an entire screen full of those green eyes looking over—him, he realized. Logan’s gaze darted over his face like he could do it for hours. “Other things.”
Heat washed over him, and Leo bit his lip. “Hmm…Play me more songs?”
“Can do, Sunshine,” Finn said.
They kept him company while he finished cleaning up, taking him through the packet they’d been sent concerning their photoshoot tomorrow.
“We’re doing it down by the sea,” Finn said. He was lounging on the couch, Logan at his feet holding a cup of tea. “And some house shots.” He tapped the leather couch. “Probably right here. Or the kitchen…Well, if it’s the kitchen, I know what I’ll be thinking about.”
Leo laughed as he shut his dishwasher. “Yeah, that kitchen gets a lot of action when I’m there.”
“Not when I’m there,” Logan said.
“Don’t worry, baby,” Finn said, running his fingers through Logan’s hair. “We’ve got a pretty good track record in Italy, don’t we?”
~
Leo didn’t sleep much that night. He usually didn’t before a flight. Something about the anticipation. Not that this was bad anticipation. He let himself drift and think, rather than fall and worry. Still awake, but lighter. The story was out of his hands now, gone to turn into paper and ink. He would write his follow up, but then…
Just three people, Finn had said. Just three people.
On his nightstand, his phone lit up his dark ceiling. Leo turned his head. There weren’t many people who could get through his Do Not Disturb. Part of him got nervous, wondering if something was wrong, and he propped himself up on an elbow quickly, pulling the phone off its charger.
you’re awake
Three words, soft as a whisper. From Logan. Just Logan.
A moment later came the ?
Leo rolled onto his back, grinning.
are you spying on me somehow?
Finn said you have trouble sleeping, came the reply.
I do sometimes, Leo sent. And then, do you not like question marks or something?
I just thought I was right
Leo laughed out loud, all to himself.
well, I am awake.
are you okay? Logan asked.
Yeah. Just thinking.
A bit of a pause, just long enough to make Leo bite his lip.
about what?
Leo typed his reply out slowly, carefully. Savoring getting to say these words. Getting more than one kiss from you.
An immediate reply. maybe I won’t ruin it this time
Leo smiled. I think the last thing you did was ruin it.
:)
God. Smiley faces from Logan Tremblay.
go to sleep so you get here faster, Logan wrote. or just get here now.
Job—remember?
:(
Leo laughed again. I do have a surprise for you when I get there.
what is it? Logan asked immediately.
“Classic,” Leo whispered to himself, but just sent a smiley in return. Then, after a moment’s thought—
goodnight, green eyes
~
The article, when it came out, was hot as lightning. The photographs were gorgeous. Natural. They turned into each other like puzzle pieces, dressed in the muted, gentle browns of the house, and then the bright jewels of green and blue. But it was the opening show that came after it that caused the storm.
Leo didn’t get a single bit of work done—but neither did Cassie, so it was fine. He had never watched a grainy live stream closer and made Cassie go out and get him lunch so he didn’t have to get up. He brought his phone to the bathroom with him. He’d never refreshed Twitter so many times to find new photographs and videos. Finn, getting a pride flag thrown up to him at one point. The moments when they shared the microphone now sometimes ended in a kiss. A kiss. Leo was laughing and choked up all at once. Logan’s hat said rouge.
“Is there a reason you didn’t choose that show?” Cassie asked.
He’d thought about it. Being there. He could have gotten out of work—not in a I’m sort of kind of dating them and suddenly I miss them every second please let me go way but in a…this is important for the follow up way. But. He hadn’t. Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to.
“This is a long time coming for them,” Leo said carefully, and found it true. “This is something they thought they’d never have. It’s theirs. And I wanted them to have it more than anything.”
Cassie’s eyes softened. She’d wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. “They better know how lucky they are if they’re getting you.”
Leo smiled and tilted their heads together, turning back to the show.
“Well, fuck,” Finn’s voice echoed through the stadium as he sat down at the piano. “You guys know what song’s coming by now, I guess.”
Rooftop, Leo thought, and shushed Cassie so harshly that she rolled her eyes and knocked him lightly on the shoulder.
Logan was still on stage, though, and getting up from behind his set. Leo’s heart leapt right into his throat.
“Something’s happening,” Leo said. “Something’s happening.”
“You shush,” Cassie said.
“Or at least you thought you did,” Finn said, then leaned back and laughed, the microphone barely catching it over the answering cheers. Logan crossed the stage, taking his time. Finn made room for him on the piano bench seat and Logan slotted perfectly against his side.
“No, look,” Finn played a few chords. “Rooftop has a special place in my heart, but it’s no part of tonight. Tonight…” He looked at Logan. “Tonight how about a little duet, Tremblay?”
Leo knew these chords. He loved these chords. And now, he could think of the lyrics that were about to come. They were probably some of the first words written about both of them letting themselves have each other…It was perfect. The crowd knew the song, too, and they were manic when Logan started playing the piano’s lower register, almost like a bass to Finn’s higher, softer melody.
A crew member brought out a second microphone and fixed it over the piano. Logan thanked him with a nod, and leaned in.
“You should have seen Finn trying to teach me piano,” his voice echoed.
Leo leaned closer to the screen. “Oh my God.”
Cassie sorted. “You’re so smitten.”
“They’re playing Keep.” 
“Yes, I know, I am a fan, too!”
I see you in the morning staring out over the waves.
I find I don’t need my instincts, never thought I’d see the day.
I could just roll over, yeah, I could close my eyes,
Cause I don’t have to grasp at glimpses, no, I’ve got my whole life.
I’ll tell anyone who asks, 
“Harmony, harmony,” Cassie said, imitating Leo’s accent.
Leo wrapped an arm around her shoulders and put his palm over her mouth. But she was right. The harmony, Logan joining in on the chorus, was exquisite.
I’ll show anyone who wants to see.
Like sea glass, or pebbles found on the beach.
Oh God, look at what I get to keep.
I’ll hold it as long as my breath lasts.
I’ll say it in all the languages they speak.
Like histories or songs sung while out at sea,
Hey Sunshine, what do you say you keep me?
Cassie made a strangled noise before Leo could. She pulled Leo’s hand away from her mouth.
“Sunshine? He just—They just changed the lyrics,” Cassie said. She got her arms around Leo’s waist and shrieked, making everyone in the office look at them. “He changed the lyrics.”
Leo was going to melt into his keyboard. Or cry? No. He was going to love them.
“I see you in the kitchen just before we go to sleep—” Finn gave his head a little, sharp shake, smiling, and when he looked up, Leo saw that he was crying, unable to sing through it. The crowd filled in. I find I don’t need my instincts, you are mine to keep.
Leo touched his lips lightly. Leo wouldn’t forget that sound, the stadium singing for them like that, even through a video. Not ever. He wouldn’t forget the feeling of knowing how much Finn and Logan deserved it. And how much he wanted them to have this. And how sweet is was when Logan played the last note, Finn wrapping an arm around him and pressing a lingering kiss to his temple, and Logan catching Finn’s tears with a gentle hand.
Finn found one of the stadium cameras, touched a hand to his mouth, and held it out.
Oh God, Leo was going to really love them.
~
Leo could feel the change in the air the moment he stepped of his airplane. Humid, but light. He rolled up the sleeves of his button-down and put his sunglasses on as he stepped into the warm afternoon. He was a little groggy from his flight, but not too bad. He was hungry, though, and in desperate need of a coffee—which he was most certainly in the right place for.
“Mr. Knut?”
Leo turned, pulling his suitcase up to his side. A man was standing there, sleek in a light gray suit and a driver’s cap. He had a neatly tripped gray beard, kind eyes, and a light British accent.
“Yes?” Leo said. “Oh, are you—”
“Mr. Tremblay’s driver, yes. Ralph, it’s a pleasure.” Ralph motioned towards his suitcase. “Might I take care of that for you, sir, on the way to the car?”
“Oh, no, that’s all right,” Leo said. “But thank you. It’s nice enough of him to send you to get me. Very kind.”
“Yes, he was very keen. This way, sir.”
Leo followed him the short distance to the car park, remarking on the weather just because he wasn’t used to being called sir. Ralph was kind about it, offering small talk right back. The car was shiny and black, the windows so dark and opaque that Leo guessed that was why Logan used it. He stored his suitcase and laptop bag and stuttered around Ralph opening his door for him.
“Oh, wow—thanks so much.”
“Of course, sir.”
Leo slid into the smooth, leather seat. The whole car smelled new. There was a water bottle waiting for him in the door side pocket, nestled into a tortoise shell cup holder. Leo took his sunglasses off just as the door shut—
And then someone was grabbing onto his shirt and tugging. An insistent, warm mouth covered his, swallowing Leo’s sound of surprise.
Logan. The warm, pine scent of him. The feeling of canvas when Leo made to touch his hair. The weight of him swinging a leg over Leo’s lap. Callouses on his hands where they smoothed up Leo’s neck.
“Hello,” Leo gasped. “Fuck.”
“Hi.” Logan barely said the word before he was kissing him again. Leo had to let his head rest back against the seat he was so dizzy with it. His mouth probably tasted sour, he was probably sweaty, maybe he even smelled from the plane, but Logan didn’t seem to care.
“Where’s—”
“Sound check,” Logan gasped, and then he had Leo’s bottom lip gently between his teeth, pulling and letting go. “He’ll be at the hotel by the time we get there.”
“You don’t need—your sound checked?”
“I need this.”
From his place on Leo’s lap, Logan put a hand on the ceiling. For a moment, Leo wondered what the hell he was in for in the back of this car, but Logan’s fingers found a button that he pushed and up a partition between them and Ralph began to rise.
“Hotel, sir?” Ralph asked as the sheet rose.
“Merci,” Logan confirmed, and then the partition cut them off in a muffled, tinted-window bubble of their own making and Logan’s hungry green eyes were all Leo was left with.
Their breathing sounded loud to Leo’s ears. He got his first good look at Logan. White t-shirt, black cotton shorts. Green hat, backwards. Tan, gorgeous, just like Leo remembered him, but even more real. A small scratch on his cheek from somewhere. He’d cut himself shaving on his chin, a little red dot. Leo reached up and took off his hat, letting his bangs fall forward in their gentle waves. They were pretty light from all the sunshine.
“Can he…” Leo whispered. “Can Ralph hear us?”
Slowly, Logan shook his head.
Leo reached up and tucked his fingers through Logan’s hair. He could have lived off of the way Logan’s eyes slipped closed. “How long is the drive?”
“Thirty minutes.”
“Hm.”
Logan’s smile looked like one of his soft, lulling songs. “What does that mean?”
Leo didn’t answer. He’d been taken by surprise, but that was fading now. All it left behind was want and relief. For now, he was done with the distance and the florescent lights of his office. He was back in Logan’s arms.
Thirty minutes felt like five. Logan’s soft sounds filled him right up as Leo kissed his neck—that was when Ralph’s gentle knock from the driver’s seat came. Leo broke off, startled. His mouth felt puffy—and good. Logan’s warm weight felt like the only thing holding him together.
“Ouais,” Logan called. “One moment.”
As Logan leaned their foreheads together, the world filtered back in. Leo became aware of the sound of a crowd outside, and had to laugh.
“Are we about to be photographed?”
“Probably a little,” Logan said. “It’s okay. You wouldn’t believe how many times Finn and I have had this happen.”
“What, got a little heavy in the car?”
Logan grinned, ducking to kiss Leo again. “Mhm.”
“That’s…” Really hot.
Logan slid off his lap, back to his side. They both spent a moment trying to pull themselves together. Logan would have to get out first, which made Leo feel a little better.
“They’ll bring your bags to the room,” Logan said. He slipped on a pair of sunglasses. “Ready?”
Hands banged against the windows, making Leo jump. There were some chants of Finn’s name, along with Logan’s, and Leo realized they didn’t know who was in the car. “I—yeah.” The room. “I think so.”
Logan considered him for a moment, then took off his own hat and placed it, bill forward, on Leo’s head.
“Oh,” Leo said. “Do I look—”
“You look how I want you to look. Merde, I want Finn to see you.” Logan grinned. “But it may be a bit much for a photo.”
Leo reached up and touched the hat. It was green and had said the word LOVE on it. That was a story Leo wanted to write. Logan could say a lot with his hats. There were whole twitter accounts dedicated to the way he hinted at future songs or albums with what was on his hat.
LOVE. Leo was wearing the word love.
“I know I shouldn’t hold your hand quite yet,” Logan began, trailing off.
Leo laughed. “That would spark some wild rumors.”
Logan looked at him over the rim of his glasses, the shadow making his green eyes bright. “Stay close to me, okay?” He popped the car door and the sound of the crowd doubled, frenzied, screaming, yearning. “Stay close.”
Leo could hear his own heartbeat. He could feel it in his throat. He did want to hold Logan’s hand. “I will.”
And Leo experienced the cameras and fans from an entirely different view. He’d followed Finn and Logan around. He’d never walked with them, not like this. Not side by side in a way that signaled to everyone he was with them.
He stuck close to Logan’s back, as promised. He caught some curious looks, felt phone cameras trained on him. The sun was bright and he was very glad for Logan’s hat. He tried to take it in, if for nothing further than that this was the biggest crowd he’d ever followed a star through from this close, but it was over in a flash. They were in a cool hotel lobby, marble and stone, and a smiling woman, motioning them to the elevator. Logan’s two security guards got in with them.
The sudden silence was loud. Logan took his sunglasses off, casually folding them into his shirt and leaning back against the wall as they rose.
“Here we go, Tremz,” one of the guards said, fist bumping Logan as he passed him through the open doors. “See you tonight. Remind Finn the dinner res he asked for is at eight-thirty.”
“Thanks, Paul.” Logan looked back from the hallway. “Leo?”
“Sorry,” Leo said and strode forward. “Thanks—Thanks, Paul.”
Paul was a massive guy, but when he smiled he looked like a teddy bear. “You got it, man.”
There was only one door on this hallway, right in front of them with a large brass knocker, and no sooner had the elevator shut than did it swing open to reveal Finn—sweaty, in a soft looking gray t-shirt and running shorts, and grinning.
“Jesus,” Logan said. “You scared me.”
“I heard the ding,” Finn said cheerfully.
He was looking right at Leo. Leo drew Logan’s hat off, trying to catch his breath.
“There were crowds,” Logan said, as if explaining.
“Yeah,” Leo said. “Are you guys famous or something?”
Finn ignored the joke. He walked right up to Leo, wrapped him up in his arms, and held on tight. Leo had maybe been expecting a kiss—probably something a tad more obvious than Logan’s sneak-attack. But the hug was better. Finn was warm. He smelled like sweat and sunscreen from being on stage.
“Hi,” Finn whispered in his ear. He pulled back, holding Leo’s cheek briefly, then gently tweaked a curl of Leo’s blond hair. “Hi, Sunshine.”
Leo covered Finn’s hand, turning his mouth against it. “Hi.”
“Come here,” Finn said, laughing. “Come in.”
“Ouais.” Logan put a hand low on Leo’s back, guiding him through the suite door. “Where’s my surprise?”
“What surprise?” Finn asked as the door shut behind them. Sure enough, Leo’s bags were waiting there, neatly side-by-side near the small kitchen.
“Not till later,” Leo said.
Logan narrowed his eyes. “How later?”
“Tomorrow later.”
Logan huffed.
Finn came up behind him, pressing a small cup into his hand. Espresso.
“Oh, how did you know?” Leo sipped it down easily. Hot and slightly sweet with sugar.
“You’re in Italy,” Finn said. Next he was wrapping an arm around Leo’s waist. “You understand that if it’s a physical surprise, he’s going to dig through your luggage?”
Leo toyed with his delicate espresso cup.“Not if I say not to.”
Finn’s chin hooked over his shoulder. Leo could feel his laugh against his skin. His strong chest against his back. His hips— “You think he’ll listen to you?”
They both regarded Logan, who was still glaring at them—and glancing at Leo’s suitcase.
“I think he will.”
“Hm,” Finn said, and Leo felt a kiss land on his neck. “I think you’re right.” Another kiss to the exact same spot. Over a mark Logan had made? “I see someone has already gotten to you.”
“I was accosted in the car,” Leo said.
“Classic.”
Logan just rolled his eyes and began dragging Leo’s suitcase into another room.
By that night, the fans who didn’t read up on their music stories had already figured out who he was. Leo Knut—last seen on the road writing the coming out piece on Night Swimming. Sure enough, Twitter was full of wearing Lo’s hat wearing Lo’s hat???
“Ooh, you’re so undercover,” Finn commented when he glimpsed Leo’s phone once they were back in the car, speeding through the night on the way to dinner. “They don’t know what’s coming for them.”
Leo clicked his phone off even as Cassie texted nice hat. He looked at Logan, at a purplish bruise Leo had left on his neck. “No, they really don’t.”
Logan covered the mark with his palm and grinned out the window. Leo laughed, looking, too, then paused.
“Hey, are we leaving the city?”
“Yep,” Finn said.
“Where?” Logan asked.
Finn shrugged exaggeratedly. He’d changed into a dark blue button down, light slacks, and pretty brown leather shoes that Leo badly wanted a pair of. He’d pushed a dark green button down towards Logan, dark trousers, and white, pristine sneakers. He’d taken one look at Leo and told him he was perfect, but Leo had showered and changed anyway. Dusty red shirt. He’d followed Finn’s lead and left the collar loose.
Logan kicked at Finn from his seat across from the both of them. Finn just stuck his tongue out and took Leo’s hand across the console between them. Leo stared at it for a moment. Finn’s pale fingers that would be playing a guitar to thousands of people tomorrow were right there wrapped up in his own.
“Where?” Logan insisted.
“Jesus, Lo, can neither of us try and surprise you? I know you found all your presents as a kid, but you’re not finding the ones I give you.” Finn dropped a wink. “I’ll give it to you when I decide.”
Apparently where was a castle. Literally a castle. Soft lights flooded up the old stones to reveal turrets and archways. A man in a tuxedo was waiting for them at the entrance. They were given champagne in thin, airy glasses and leave to roam the lit gardens before their dinner was served. The air was mild, but the feeling of Finn and Logan at his shoulders was better. Finn had something to say about every flower, every piece of architecture, as if he had studied up for this night. They ate dinner under the stars, watching fireflies dart through the greenery.
It wasn’t until they had been served an array of desserts and left truly alone that Leo thought to bring up the article and how they were doing—it was different to ask without a screen between them.
“We’re so good,” Finn said. He looked at Logan, who nodded. Finn wrapped an arm around Logan’s chair, scooting it closer to his. Leo watched him lean into him. His brown eyes flickered to Leo even as his lips brushed Logan’s skin. “Lo?”
“Ouais, I…” Logan gave up on words and tucked his face into Finn’s neck, laughing.
Leo leaned back in his chair, glad the table let him stretch his still plane-cramped legs out under the table. “It’s so nice to see you up there. Really. I can’t wait for tomorrow. You just look so…free.”
“We feel free,” Finn said. “And it’s thanks to you.” He held out a hand across the linen tablecloth and, after a moment, Leo took it. “How are you, Le?”
Leo let out a slow breath, watching the way Finn’s thumb tracked across his knuckles. “I’m…” He laughed a little. “That’s quite a question. Really quite a question.”
Logan laughed, and when Leo realized he was laughing at him, he threw a sugar coated almond at him in a neat arc across the table—which lost all its effect when Logan caught it in his mouth.
“Non, seriously.” Logan leaned more into Finn’s side. “Leo?”
Leo looked around them. They both had a knack for finding these slices of paradise. Though, lately it had been feeling like any where they were was heaven, even his own kitchen.
“Being on tour with you was wonderful,” Leo answered. “And Nice was, of course, perfect. So beautiful…God, this is beautiful.”
“Why am I sensing a but?” Finn asked, brows drawn together. Logan looked downright nervous.
Leo shook his head, bringing his other hand to hold Finn’s as well. “No. Well, yes, but not like that.”
They both looked at him expectantly. Patiently.
“You’ve been sweet in waiting for me. And honest about wanting me.”
“We fumbled and recovered,” Finn said.
“We do want you,” Logan said earnestly.
“Well, I…I hope so,” Leo said softly. Finn’s hand tightened around his.
“Yeah?” Finn whispered.
Leo nodded. Logan couldn’t quite reach with the angle, but he reached for Leo, too, hand on Finn’s wrist.
“It’s been—what? A week and a half of video calls? You know all these glorious places are amazing, but when we’re just sitting around…I mean, when we’re just talking… Or you’re watching me wash dishes, do laundry. And I start to feel like…”
He felt the words well in his throat like tears as he looked between them. He understood Cassie’s hesitation. He understood his own hesitation. He’d been nervous that he’d come back and something would have changed. Like adrenaline leaving the system. But it hadn’t.
“I’ve never not known how to be without someone before,” Leo said. “But you make me feel like I don’t remember how to be alone.”
Finn’s smile was tearful and Leo realized he felt a little like that, too, even as Finn leaned forward and kissed him. It dissolved into a laugh, into kiss to his cheek. A piece of silverware clattered to the ground as Finn tugged Leo’s chair closer and hugged him as best he could.
“Rouge, you’re pulling the table cloth, the table—” Logan’s voice came, laughing. Leo heard his chair scoot back and then there was another pair of arms around Leo’s neck, Logan leaning over the back of his chair. He managed a sloppy kiss to Leo’s mouth, despite the angle.
Leo closed his eyes and held on. He waited for Finn to make him laugh. Or Logan to say something in French. But they stayed quiet, surprising him. He peeked one eye open, only to see that Finn, whose forehead was pressed against Leo’s temple, had his eyes closed, too. Leo didn’t dare move him to try and get at Logan, but the content sigh he felt against his neck was enough to go on for him. Wind whistled through the trees around them, bring the smell of some sweet flower. Leo closed his eyes again and leaned back into Logan’s shoulder and Finn’s arm. It was like a blanket, their quiet. They’d been more serene than he’d expected from the beginning—puzzles, dinner, reading, morning runs. This was something deeper. It was as if something unhappy had finally been able to settle for them, too. The questions were still there. How will this work? What will people think? But they were muted and far off.
They looked up at footsteps on the patio, only to find a surprised waiter holding a pitcher of water.
“Ah,” the waiter said. “Pardon me. Uh…”
“Hi,” Finn said, only lifting his head. “Yeah, we’ll take the check.”
~
They laughed about it on the car ride home, the waiter’s face. Speeding through dark hills, and then streets still filled with chatter and light. Leo watched out the window as they slowed in narrower streets. It gave him a glimpses of passing faces. Laughing, eating, kissing.
Finn’s hand pressed to his thigh. “Are you composing sentences right now? I think you are.”
Leo looked over at him. “Maybe. And you?”
“I’ve been watching you two write in your heads for the last ten minutes,” Logan said. He’d stretched his legs out so their feet slotted together in the car space between them.
“Well, no one got on my lap, I had to do something to pass the time,” Leo said, squeezing one of Logan’s ankles between his own.
Logan just looked at him with bright eyes. “I don’t want to have to stop.”
Leo let his head fall back against the seat and he put his hand over Finn’s. “You just deal with that every day?”
“All day,” Finn said. “You don’t even want to know the things he says to me before we go on stage.” Finn laughed and scooted over in his seat, pressing right up against Leo’s side. “Actually, you probably do.”
No one was waiting at the hotel this time. There were no bright flashes to catch what Leo was sure was an intense flush on his cheeks. They stayed close in the elevator, their security shaking their heads at how giddy they probably sounded—all that content silence had bubbled into talking over each other and far too loud laughter. Finn fumbled a little with the hotel key, but then they were inside the suite and met with a blast of AC. Finn went to turn it down, but Logan got his hands on Leo’s waist and pulled until Leo had him pinned right up against the side of the entrance hall.
“This is how I first met you,” Leo said, staring down at him. He traced a hand under Logan’s jaw and watched the way he bared his neck for more. “I was so surprised. And you were so beautiful. And also you literally did not stop making out with Finn which was, like, okay then.”
Finn’s laugh reached them. “I asked him that after you left. I was like, how long was he standing there actually? And he wouldn’t tell me.”
“What’d you want, Lo?” Leo whispered, leaning down to kiss him softly. “Me to walk in ready to go right then?”
“Non, I wanted to see if you thought I was hot,” Logan said, then laughed as Leo pulled back to follow Finn’s voice into the living room. He called after him, “And you do!”
Finn had his dress shirt half unbuttoned and his belt in one hand, frowning at something on his phone.
“You okay there difficult rock star?” Leo asked, trying not to stare at his pale chest against the blush color.
Finn looked up, all big brown eyes suddenly—how did he do that? Switch between unbearably hot to unbearably sweet in two seconds—and smiled. “Oh. This isn’t what it looks like.” He gestured to himself with his belt. “I just wanted to change. And yeah, just tomorrow’s call times.”
Call times. Show tomorrow. Leo took a breath. Right. What time was it? Midnight? One? Leo knew they should sleep. He’d seen them on the nights before shows many times now. Logan drank mint tea. Finn read. Unless they had friends at the shows, or family, they tried to get as much sleep as they could. Logan slept in as much as he could. Finn seemed incapable of sleeping in, but he went for a run and he ordered up a big breakfast. God, Leo wanted to make them breakfast again. He wanted the way they sat with him, looked at him, made him coffee.
Leo nodded. He emptied his pockets, setting his phone and wallet on a side table. “I hope it’s not too early? I know your routines the night before a show and this isn’t it. It’s early for me, technically. But it’s late for you.”
Leo’s eyes drew down Finn’s body again. The half-untucked shirt. He was pretty sure those socks he was wearing were the ones advertised on TV offering arch support. Why, why was that hot right now? It was. And maybe Leo wanted the way Finn looked right now to be exactly what it looked like. What then?
Finn was quiet, glancing at Logan as he came into the room and sat on the back of the couch to look at Leo. Finn drew in a slow breath, stretching his arms up and behind his head, so that when he spoke his voice came out tensed like his muscles—which Leo could see more of now, the sharp cut just above his waistline. “I mean, you could…” He grinned, dropping his arms and relaxing. “We could get you on the right time zone.”
Leo bit at the inside of his cheek. That wasn’t exactly the line he’d heard in Finn’s voice during all of his laundry-folding day dreams, but it was so very Finn that it was better.
“What did your team think when you said I’d be staying with you?” Leo glanced up around the room. “I mean, in the same…” Bedroom? “Suite.”
“They’re our team for a reason,” Finn said. “They know what’s their business, and what’s ours.”
Leo raised an eyebrow. “And my being a reporter isn’t their business? I bet at least a few people would disagree with that.”
“You’re not the kind of reporter they worry about,” Logan said. “Unless you suddenly revealed a long-range camera in your suitcase.” He tilted his head teasingly. “That’s not the surprise, is it?”
“No,” Leo laughed. “Definitely not the surprise.”
“And just to be clear,” Finn said. “Because looks like we’re not great on being clear—”
“Room, not suite,” Logan cut in.
“Jeez, way to grab my punchline and yank it out from beneath my feet.” Finn strode closer and put his hand on Logan’s shoulder. “But yes. We were hoping…I mean, there is another room. Two other, in fact, for you to choose from.” He tilted his head. “But I was hoping just your suitcase would be staying there.”
“We,” Logan said, rising from his seat.
“We were hoping.”
Logan stood in front of Leo. He held out his hands palm up, and Leo put his palms into them. Logan gave a gentle tug. When Leo hesitated, worrying the inside of his cheek, it took about half a second for concern to flicker over Logan’s face.
“Le?” he asked gently. “What…What did I do?”
“No, no, no,” Leo said. “Nothing. I want that. I really, really want that. I just…” Leo sighed, cursing himself. The nerves he’d felt while packing sprung back at him. Look at them. Look at them.
“It’s been a while for me,” Leo said softly. “I mean—I mean a while. And you two know each other—so well. I just don’t want…to, like, disappoint, or…”
“Non,” Logan said.
“You couldn’t,” Finn added. “Leo, you couldn’t disappoint us. Like, ever.”
Leo knew that. He did. He even believed it. It didn’t stop the idea that he would from making him want to crawl under the covers and hide.
“I’m looking at two people who know each other inside and out,” Leo said. “And I love that about you two. But—yeah. That’s all.”
Finn and Logan looked at each other. Leo didn’t mind the silent communication ability. He even liked it. It was sweet. In his dreams, he got that ability with them, too. One day.
Finn stepped forward. It wasn’t the stage walk. It was just him. Even in the button-down that Leo now knew to be the softest linen, it was just him. Not all the photos Leo had seen of fans catching him on the street—sunglasses, t-shirt, notebook or coffee…smiling, talking with them, and uncapping Sharpies with his teeth. Leo had looked at the photos from that particular day a lot. A lot. Summer in New York, headed to the recording studio, stooping so a girl could slip a necklace she had made him over his head.
“Okay.” Finn smiled softly. “There’s one thing we can do no matter what. It’s late. We can just get ready for bed and…and then whatever you want.”
Logan nodded. “Whatever you want.”
“We do know each other through and through,” Finn said. He tucked a stray curl behind Leo’s ear, but Leo felt it spring back into place. “Which is why we know how much we want you here.”
Leo shook his head, putting a hand against Finn’s chest. “You don’t have to convince me. I’m just…” Leo looked to Logan. “I…This is like a dream? A really good dream.”
“Leo.” Finn’s voice was overly serious, but Leo caught the spark in his eye. “Were we your celebrity crushes or something?” 
Leo’s laugh surprised him, head falling back. “Finn.”
“Aw,” Finn wrapped his arms around Leo’s waist. “I embarrassed him. Look, Lo, we were his celebrity crush.”
“First, I meant because you’re so sweet. And second, I’m pretty sure you could attempt world domination with the number of people who would name you if asked who their crush is,” Leo said.
“Maybe,” Finn replied. “But I only care about one.”
It was the little things, first. Logan left small pools of water all around the sink when he washed his face. He went to Leo’s luggage, and Leo only had time to call out a warning don’t before Logan was pulling out a t-shirt with a delighted laugh. Thankfully, it wasn’t his surprise one…But it was Finn’s.
Leo was brushing his teeth next to Finn O’Hara in Italy, and Logan Tremblay was holding up his HEARTTHROB O’HARA t-shirt with a grin on his face that said it all.
“That was also a surprise,” Leo said around his toothpaste. He groaned, and put a hand over Finn’s delighted eyes as passed him to go rinse his mouth.
When he leaned up from the faucet, Finn was there, rinsing beside him. Leo cleared his throat, laughing a little under the feeling of Finn’s gaze. He tried to escape, honestly he had no idea what to say, but two hands caught his hips and a hard, warm chest met Leo’s back.
They looked at each other in the mirror. The lights were soft and dim, bringing out each of Finn’s freckles. Leo put his hand over where Finn’s rested low on his stomach.
“I’m embarrassed,” Leo said, smiling down at the sink. “It’s stupid, right?”
With a slight pressure to his hip, Finn turned Leo around. Leo rested back against the counter’s edge, and Finn nudged his way to stand between his thighs. He carded Leo’s hair back from his face, the ends damp from washing his face.
“Nothing about you could ever be stupid,” Finn said.
Leo traced the N of his NASA t-shirt, then one of the trails on a shooting star. “You probably see people in that shirt all the time. Probably have signed that shirt a million times.” Leo closed his eyes. “Shit. I’d say I’m not some crazy fan, but younger me was definitely a crazy fan.” He looked up at Finn. “But you know all about crazy fans.”
Finn smiled a little. He barely had to tilt his chin forward at all to brush their mouths together. “I do know a little about that.”
“So maybe the shirt doesn’t even matter?” Leo asked hopefully. Finn’s brown eyes were staring at his mouth—that still had toothpaste on it maybe?
“Everything about you matters,” Finn said, and kissed him.
It brought back the rush of the ocean. The heat of the sun, sitting against those cliffs when Leo had been so confused, so in want. He knew how to hold himself together. God, if there was one thing he was so very good at in this world, it was holding himself together.
“Maybe I’m your crazy fan,” Finn whispered. “I’ve been stalking your writing for long enough.”
Leo laughed. “Mm, that’s true.” He reached up for Finn’s shoulders, pulling him closer.
He didn’t want to hold himself together anymore. He didn’t want to hold back. Nothing he knew even compared to this. Not the fame, not the novelty. This. Worn out t-shirts and getting to have a perfect fit in a legendary love like theirs. These were new muscles, letting himself go, and he’d been straining them with these two. They felt stronger now.
The band of his pajama pants was wet from being pressed back into Logan’s puddles. Finn tasted minty, and with him standing between Leo’s thighs like this, Leo got to tilt his head up into the kiss.
“How do I look?”
They broke apart to see Logan standing in the bathroom doorway. He wore a soft looking pair of gray boxers, and his chest and arms filled out Leo’s t-shirt in a way Leo had never, would never have even thought, to imagine.
While Leo sat there staring, Finn laughed. “That thing looks like it’s about to fall to pieces.”
He wasn’t wrong. There was a hole near the collar, the letters were faded at the edges. But it was so damn soft from years of being washed that Leo couldn’t bare to part with it. He reached up and pushed his fingers through Finn’s hair. That gorgeous red hair. Maybe there was so much more he couldn’t part with now.
“Ouais, me too,” Logan said. Leo didn’t know what he was talking about until he walked forward and reached up for Finn’s hair, completely messing it up. “Everyone’s obsessed with it, but how can you not be?”
Leo laughed as Finn squinted one eye shut but let them have their fun. It was soft and thick, the sorter strands at the sides feathering through Leo’s fingers like velvet.
Finn put a hand on Logan’s chest, tapping over the letters of Leo’s t-shirt. “I always guessed that was why everything they put my name in is red, too.”
“Marketing?” Leo said.
“Yeah.” Finn sighed, shrugged, then smiled. “Le, that shirt really is about to fall apart.”
“I…wear it a lot.”
“Oh yeah? All around the city with my name on your heart?”
Leo bit his lip. It was more than that. It was what he wore when he was sad, or had had a bad day. When he was sick, or exhausted, or angry.
And then, over the past month, that comfort had shifted to them. A bad day at work ended with four hour FaceTimes until Leo was too sleepy to talk anymore and Finn’s soft voice. Goodnight, Sunshine. And when he couldn’t sleep, somehow Logan always knew. The soft light of his phone lighting up his bedroom from his nightstand and never letting him feel alone or sinking or like he would never sleep again.
“Le?” Finn asked softly. His hair was a mess from their hands. His eyes were pure syrup again, asking, checking, worried—loving?
“Hi,” Leo said. “Sorry, hi.” He put a hand on Finn’s cheek and looked at Logan.
Logan tilted his head. “What are you writing right now, Soleil?”
Leo closed his eyes briefly at the nickname, leaning his head back to bask in it. “Dialogue, I guess.”
“Ouais,” Logan said, wrapping an arm around Leo’s waist. It completed the circle of the three of them. “Of?”
“How to ask you to take me to bed,” Leo whispered.
“Yes,” Finn breathed, and then Leo was being kissed.
He’d written a lot of words in his life. It was almost funny to be asked what he was writing right then. He wasn’t even sure this was something that could be written. What did kiss have on what Finn gave him? It was just what Leo remembered. The heated energy from that middle of the night kiss in Nice, only tripled.
“Hey.” Logan’s voice was low. Leo felt fingers tighten in his hair and he gasped, breaking Finn’s kiss long enough to be pulled to another mouth. The ocean and the shade. The shade and the ocean. Finn’s laugh echoed against the bathroom tiles. He was watching them. He had a hand on Leo’s back, and probably Logan’s, and let them kiss.
No, Leo couldn’t have written this down. Logan, pulling him towards the bedroom. Finn flicking off the bathroom light and leaving them in the yellow-pink glow of a reading lamp and the moon.
“I’d raise the sun if I could,” he said. He caught Leo up around the waist again. “Just because it’s dark in here doesn’t mean I want it to be.”
“Finn.” It sounded pleading, but Leo hadn’t meant it that way. Not stop. Not more. Just… “Have some compassion for how full my heart can be right now, O’Hara.”
And then Leo took that famous NASA t-shirt right off of him. The stars and the comet trails, they were still there. Finn’s torso was its own sky map and Leo, wondering what Finn liked, bent to kiss a trail of his own along one thin collarbone.
What words existed for the feeling of Finn chest rising and falling against his mouth.
What words could Leo have used to describe the smile Logan gave him as he let Leo pull his t-shirt off of him next? All Leo could comprehend was the sheer strength of his arms and the dark trail of hair that led down into his boxers.
There were no hesitations, like Leo had thought there would be. The pauses were woven in, just turns and folds and lifts like pages. Yes? This? Grins and breaths and—Logan’s sounds. Logan. Logan knew what he wanted. Finn knew what Logan wanted. Leo, very quickly, knew what Logan wanted and shared a slightly dazed grin with Finn about it. He got to watch Finn’s practiced fingers, and see how much Finn enjoyed giving Logan everything he could possibly desire. It was as sweet as it was unbearably hot. Finn looked so pale against Logan’s tanned skin. Marble. That was a word Leo had used before, but it applied. Jesus Christ, it applied.
What did grip have on the way Logan clutched at Leo’s shoulders when they were at last as close as anything could be, his thighs shaking against Leo’s. Bliss, certainly, was nothing compared to the look on Logan’s face when Finn’s hand pressed over the strong curve of his adam’s apple and asked him how he liked it, told him they looked gorgeous. Throbbing held nothing to the way Leo’s heart pounded, and more than nothing to how close those words brought him to the edge. Rhythm. That’s what Logan had. Leo set his hands against the small of his back—two dimples there, made for Leo’s thumbs—and held on.
“Mm—” Logan’s breath came out short and he froze, mouth open against Leo’s neck. His back was slick with sweat now. Finn sat back on his heels just beside them, working himself slowly.
“What you waiting for, baby?” Finn breathed. He’d not been moving much, but there was a sheen over his nose and temples, too. Just from watching. Now, he shifted behind Leo and wrapped his arms around his waist, nuzzling under his jaw.
Leo reached between them and Logan muffled his sound in Leo’s neck. Logan hadn’t been warm from the second he met him, but oh, he was warm now. Burning in Leo’s hands, against Leo’s body.
“I just want it to last,” Logan said shakily, but he was moving again, like he couldn’t help it. “You’re leaving in two days.” Logan wrapped his arms fully around Leo’s shoulders. “Don’t.”
“Don’t even know how—” Leo’s eyes slipped shut and he tried to breathe through the mix of white hot pleasure and blue tenderness pulsing through him. “How to think about leaving.” He smoothed his hands up Logan’s back, feeling the way it flexed as Logan moved against him.
“Ouais,” Logan said, a smile slipping across his face. He pulled back, his breathing jumping as their hips shifted. He kissed Leo hard, then cursed softly and let his head fall back. “Fuck…Leo…”
With his hair falling back and out of his eyes like that, Leo’s language left him entirely. He’d seen him like this on stage, lost in the music. He’d watched from the VIP booth, from the wings. Logan was closer to him than Finn was, always staying in one place. He’d seen the lights catch his every angle as he threw his head back, sweat dampening his dark hair, and played with everything he had. Tonight, Leo felt like theirs in that same way.
The sheets were kicked towards the end of the bed, or pooled on the floor. Leo’s head was on Finn’s chest, Logan’s forehead pressed to the top of his spine. Leo couldn’t stop touching them. He trailed his fingertips down Finn’s chest and watched goosebumps follow in their wake. Logan had a thigh thrown over his hip and Leo stroked the unbearably soft skin behind his knee. He dipped his thumb in the divot below Finn’s bottom lip.
Finn smiled sleepily, his eyes closed. His eyelashes were dark just now. In certain lights they tinged lighter, like his hair. “You’re ticklish.”
“You’re soft,” Leo replied.
“Is he asleep?” Finn whispered.
“Non,” came Logan’s voice, though he sounded part of the way there.
“I’m not kidding.” Leo reached back to hold Logan’s hip. “I’m getting up if I start keeping you awake with my tossing around.”
That was a lie. There was nothing that could haul Leo out of where he was right now.
“Nu-uh.” Finn kissed Leo’s temple. “No tossing. Not with the weighted blanket I have.”
“You travel with a weighted blanket?” Leo asked skeptically.
Finn reached out and picked up Logan’s hand, kissing his knuckles. “Sure do.”
“Oh,” Leo laughed.
“One-hundred percent effective, I promise.”
When Finn turned the lights off, it sent the room into near complete darkness and so Leo could do nothing but feel, in every nerve, and expanse of exposed skin, the way Logan nudged his nose into the soft hair at his nape, and the way Finn rolled onto his side to hold them both.
“Show tomorrow,” Finn whispered. “You ready?”
Leo smiled. “Do I have to be ready? I think that’s supposed my question to you two.”
“You have to be ready,” Finn placed a kiss to his neck. “It’s a Leo show.”
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Text
Sacred Ingredients
Zagreus/Male!reader 
Fandom: Hades (2019 game)
Word count: 3.3k
Summary: There was a new cook in the house
warnings: Implied reader death, no beta.
Notes:
The fic that is the reason yall have been seeing so many food posts lately.
This is the first response for the wholesome Zagreus x male reader request. I took my time with this since I wasn’t sure if I was following the prompt.
To the anon, thanks for the wait. If this isn’t what you wanted, please lmk and I will be happy to redo it. I do hope you enjoy this one.
Important: often people would use other names for the gods to avoid bringing unnecessary attention to themselves. Our reader is one of those people.
Enjoy!
~
One of your first memories was of your Mom holding a small bit of cake between her fingers. 
It was made of thin layers of dough, heavy with sheep cheese, crushed nuts and honey, so heavy with it that the dipping honey caught the sunlight just before you bit in.
Sweet. Creamy. Nutty. All combining together in your mouth as you chew.
You groaned in pure delight as she laughed, getting you a plate with a much bigger piece. See? I told you that you would like it. Mama is never wrong. Not with food.
Just like that, food had became your life. To you, there was no better way to say ‘I love you’ than by cooking someone a good meal.
You learned how to perfectly roast fishes, how to stuffed chicken, the right moment to add herbs or how to use olive oils or butter to add rich flavors to the dish. You learned how to knead the bread, how to time the rise just right and the best spots in the stone ovens to place the loaf. 
Food was everything. It was the bittersweet memory of your mama’s hand on your cheek after a sickness took her far too soon, it was a way to feed your family while working hard as a fisherman, it was a way to earn your place among warriors and kings. 
You loved all of it, even as the other men had scoffed at you for enjoying women’ work. However they never turned away a meal you cooked, at home or in the war tents.
The very last thing you cooked, a recipe your mama taught you, was a simple bread, meant for dipping in wine. 
Barley flour. Dry yeast from the grapes. Then you added the simple spice mix you came up with and always added in. The one that had people waiting outside for your bakery before the markets opened.
Parsley. Rosemary. Oregano. Garlic cloves smashed up and added into the bread, and just a little dash of salt.
You had set one aside for yourself for later.
You never got to eat it. 
~
When the news came that the terrifying god of the underworld was looking for a new cook, you didn’t hesitate.
To get a spot in the house of the gods was prime time. It meant respect, a place to live and most importantly it meant regular income. That was money you can send to your mama and sisters so they can get into a better area of Asphodel.
You had spent hours over the cake. 
You made sure that each layer of the dough was perfect, thin and flakey with a satisfying bite, that the cheese was the perfect amount of tangy creaminess, that nuts were crushed to the right size, that the honey was placed in the perfect spot to complement the cheese and nuts.
This had to work because your family worked hard to get the coin to order such things from the expensive shop of the boatman.
Even the neighbors had pitched in, with the promise that you will pay them back.
You took a nervous breath as you shifted on your feet, winced as the terrifying King of Below tossed aside the meal someone brought him, promptly dismissing them. 
“And another one bites the dust.” The sleep god muttered as he crossed something off a list.
He looked up, blinking heavy downturned eyes at them. You and the other commoners were careful to keep their gazes low, not willing to show any disrespect to any of the gods.
The gentle one huffed and gestured for the one before you to go ahead. You were up after this, assuming that the person before you didn’t have something amazing. 
The underworld King made a loud gagging sound and wordlessly dismissed the shade. Gentle one only clicked his tongue as he crossed out another line and shook his head, white curls flopping around. 
“Good luck, buddy.” He told you with a cheerful grin, using his quill to point to the desk.
Did the gods normally call people buddy?
With a deep breath, you went to the looming desk, feeling like you were meeting the fates themselves. 
“And what is this?” The King of those below growled, his haunting eyes locked onto you like a predatory bird. His hellhound shifted next to him, their three noses twitching at the food.
“This is a plakous, my lord.” You said, proud that your voice was stronger than you expected. “Made with wheat dough, rich honey-“
The King held up a large hand and you stopped speaking, fearing you had already lost your chance. A shade took the plate from you and brought it to their master. 
You held your breath as he took the first bite, your heart no longer beat but you swore you felt it in that moment, slamming against your chest. He chewed slowly and his bloody red eyes slowly went wide.
A hush fell over the grand hall.
Then the King did something he didn’t do with any other meal, he went back for a second bite.
After that bite, he peered down at you for a long, long time.
“Is this all you can cook?” His voice broke over you like thunder. You shook your head, your hands curled up nervously 
“No, my lord. I have created meals for kings and I can cook many things. Meat of all kinds. And bread, vegetables and so on.” You wished you were a more eloquent man, but that had never been needed before.
Not to mention such an education was beyond your reach.
And your food alway did the talking for you. 
The king took a third bite then tossed the rest to the hellhound, the animal eating in a single swipe of its tongue. The tail wagged once, thumping on the floor. 
The Wealthy One nodded slowly.  “You may start today.”
~
The kitchen size alone would have made your mama weep with joy. The amount of fresh produce, herbs and clean grains along with plenty of meat made your jaw drop. 
You clapped your hand together in thought then…You hit the ground running. 
There was an endless list of tasks to be done before the kitchen would be ready to open and you went through all the tasks with horse blinders on, determination fueling you.
The first meal you officially served Master was a few of salted and peppered trout with a garlic lemon sauce with butter and herbs along with a hearty lentils soup, warm sourdough bread for the soup and sauce.
You added a fresh cucumber salad along with a large plate filled with cheeses and fruits that would compliment the fish.
When the plates came back, clean of even a drop of sauce, you felt something loosen in your chest. 
~
Eventually you began to learn the house's routine and the many shades. You learned to always have some type of bread readied with olive oil. 
You learned what went fast and what you had to jazz up to get rid of. 
The most important lesson you had learned in life and one that remained unchanged even now was that most souls just wanted something that tasted like home. 
It was toward the end of the kitchen hours when you heard someone take a seat.
Even at this late hour and working alone, you weren’t one to turn away a hungry soul so after wiping your hands on your apron, you turned with a smile.
“Welcome! What can I…” your words trailed off, your eyes going wide as you realized who was sitting in one of the barstools.
The Prince of the underworld gave you an exhausted, crooked grin. There was a curious gleam in those mismatched eyes, the strong lines of his cheeks softened by the dim lights of the lounge.
He was inhumanly beautiful in the ways all divine beings were.
But there was something different to his handsomeness.
Unlike the soft loveliness of Sleep, the sleek grace of the Fury or the dark shocking beauty of Night herself, this god before looked almost moral like. It was his eyes that revealed his godhood. It was the power in his broad shoulders.
You were surprised by how much you liked it.
“So you are the new cook everyone is raving about.” The Prince said, leaning on his forearms to peer at you. You saw the strength in his arms, his quick grace as he moved. Strong and muscular with thick tendons upward from the knuckles. 
It was clear this god was a warrior of a sort.
Your eyes flickered down in embarrassment when you realized you were being disrespectful in your staring. 
“I believe so, your highness.” You said, bowing your head in a show of respect for his position. “How may I serve you?” 
“Honestly?” The Prince leaned, scanning the area behind you. “Whatever you have will work. The last cook we had working here would just give us sliced onions if we came in this late. Once he gave Hypnos a single apple peel for daring to ask for something else.”
He sounded amused, chuckling to himself at the memory. It was a nice laugh, deep and rich.
You couldn’t imagine being so rude to the gods. Your mom was a pious woman and even a quiet sigh during prayers would get you a disapproving look.
With a nod, you went to get the Prince his meal and drink.
Thankfully you had a leftover trout and tossed one onto the grill to cook as you prepared a bowl of cabbage for him, added in spices along with honey vinegar and silphium.
You had some bread and garlic cheese so you plated those as well with olives and grapes.
You decided to give him a rich red that most enjoyed, filling it up to the brim.
“Oh wow.” The prince muttered as you set everything in front of him and with a bow, you rushed back to the fish, flipping it over. Once it was ready with some garlic butter sauce, you brought it to him. 
“Please let me know if you would like for me to serve you more or cook something else for you.” You told him and the prince blinked at you, his mouth filled with bread and cheese. 
The prince waved a hand before you left him for his meal. He drank the wine deeply before placing it back down. You immediately refilled it. “This is plenty, my good shade. Thank you.”
With a respectful nod, you resumed cleaning up the kitchen. Counters got wiped down, supplies restocked but it wasn’t the usual relaxing routine it normally was.
You felt the weight of those divine eyes on you. The Prince was quiet as he ate but you caught quick glimpses of his curious gaze on the shine of the plates, or reflection in your knives.
It was only when the Prince left that you let yourself breathe.
~
Master liked large meals but only if they could be eaten quickly. The only thing you had been warned never to add was pomegranates. No one would tell you why.
The Gorgon, the creature was surprisingly sweet for all the horrible tales you heard of her kind, ate in a rush as well.
If you were smarter, maybe you could have made a clever joke about how the lowest server and the King of the Underworld ate the same way.
But one look into her smiling face held your tongue. She was always kind so you would be so in return.
The Fury was a regular companion of hers, requesting simple meals of fish and some types of roasted vegetables. Mostly she would drink deeply, often you would have a pitcher of wine put aside for her. 
Sometimes Dreaded Death would join her, unwelcoming to all and cool. He rarely ordered any food, his fingers drumming on the table sounded like funeral marches to your ears. 
His twin was the complete opposite, Gentle Sleep had a sweet tooth unlike anything else you have seen. Often he would ignore the dinner option altogether and eat slices of cake, candied figs or honeycombs. 
If you weren’t careful around the god, plates of cookies that were meant for the whole house would go missing around him. 
You still haven’t found the last two plates he stole from you.
And...
There was The Prince himself. 
He was a regular now, always sitting close to wherever your work station was that day. He also was the only one who ate anything you put on a plate for him, and would shove the meal into his mouth like a starving creature. You always made sure to give him larger servings.
“Tell me your name.”  He ordered you one day. His tone was deep, firm. Making it clear he wouldn’t take no for an answer.  “You keep feeding me delicious food, no matter the hour. And I don't know what to call you.”
Then he added with raised eyebrows, sounding more like a playful suitor than a Chthonic god. “Please?”
You considered it, your hands still on the bowl of the hardy stew just placed before the god. You stared at the stew for a moment, then at him.
Or just past him, not willing to meet the god’s eyes, life and death danced in those unusual eyes of his.
You were a moral, a simple one at that. 
You never picked up a sword, never learned all the fancy learnings that a prince might, never learned much beyond what you needed to but you knew names had powers, could decide whole destinies before a babe even wailed out their first cry. 
Names could summon the gods themselves.
Quietly, you told him.
The prince grinned at you, his smile fierce and beautiful like a victorious lion. Your breath hitched, forgetting that one was to never look the gods in the eye.
Then the next words he spoke early jumped started your heart into beating once more. 
“It suits you, my good cook. Call me Zagreus.” 
~
Later, alone in the kitchen, recipes laid in front of you, you tried to will yourself to focus.
Schooling was too costly for your family especially after your Mother’s death. Your reading went far as basic words and numbers, just enough to get by in the markets.
You never needed much. 
Right now, however, the recipes might as well be another language. 
You were too lost in thought, several times you had already caught yourself even daring to think The Prince’s name in your mind.
What would happen if you dare to…
Zagreus.
A soft noise came behind you and You whirled around, glancing everywhere as if expecting him to appear right behind you. 
He didn’t. 
You realized you heard the sounds of the Wretched Broker restocking his shelves. Thankfully, he was too busy to realize that the House’s cook had gone mad simply by learning a God’s name. 
Maybe you should start wearing a pot on your head.
“Zagreus.” You whispered, fingernails digging your palm nervously. “Zagreus.”
When the god didn’t appear, you didn’t know if you were disappointed or relieved.
~
Slowly, you learned more. 
There were the loud fights between Father and Son that would cause the house to rattle. Many shades would escape into the lounge, hands over their ears.
”Tell me, do you get along with your father?” Zagreus grumbled, his plate cleared of any crumbs. His legs were bouncing, filled with an endless energy you knew you would never be able to match. 
“No.” You said, not wanting to think of that man. You knew he was somewhere in the underworld but the less you knew, the better. “I suspect few do.”
Once, over a glass of white wine and a simple meal of sourdough bread and warm vegetable soup, He told you was looking for his mother.  
“You will find her. I know you will.” You told him quietly, holding his stare. “Have faith, Zagreus.”
Another time, over a cake from a new recipe you came up with, Zagreus asked about you. Maybe it was the exhaustion after a successful dinner rush but you told him everything. 
His smile was warm, his eyes watchful of your every move as you told him of your family and their new place you brought for them. 
Your cheeks flushed when you realized he was staring at you.
“I will have to stop by then.” He teased, his hand almost brushing against yours. 
“Yes.” You agreed in a whisper, your mouth suddenly dry.
~
“Cook me your favorite meal.” Zagreus ordered one day, not even bothering to sit down. You lifted a cool eyebrow, well used to his impulsiveness by now.  
“Hello, Zagreus.” You greeted dryly, wiping your hands on your apron, not actually that upset.
Not too long ago, you would have wilted from the thought of being so playful with a divine creature but things changed.
Zagreus brought it out of you somehow simply by being himself. 
“I am doing well, thank you.” You continued to teased despite his oddly serious expression.
Zagreus blinked, then chuckled with a bright grin. “I am a horrible influence on you, I fear.”
You laughed, cheeks flushing at his smile. “I am afraid so, your Highness. Now what is this about a favorite meal?”
“Yours. I want to know what your favorite food is.” 
“Oh.” You grabbed an apple, rolling it in your hands for something to do. Butterflies dancing in your stomach as Zagreus leaned in, his hands on the counter. This close, you caught the scent of copper.
unwillingly, your gaze tangled with his, caught like a fly in a complex web. A stray thought reached you, could a mere fly understand the geometric structure, beauty of such things?
You swallowed nervously. “It’s nothing special, Zagreus. Just something my mom cooked up for me.”
Zagreus narrowed his eyes, his jaw firm in his resolve. “Excellent, then. I trust you have all the ingredients you need?”
You nodded but opened your mouth to dissuade the prince from his idea, however he was already walking away, “I expect a meal to be waiting for me when I get back!”
~
One day, staring at a wooden spoon in your hand, cake batter dipping from the tip, you realized that Zagreus had became someone very, very dear to you. 
Morals and gods didn't mix together well. At least, not for the morals. Cracked eggs and spilled milk and all left would be a big mess with no one to clean it. 
What did it mean when a shade, a mere ghost of who you were, was in love with a god that shone like the sun, whose very presence made you felt like you were alive once more?
~
When Zagreus returned, his hair was still damp from the Styx river and you had to look away from his beauty.
Quietly, you put the final touches on your favorite meal. You swallowed nervously as you picked up the plate and went over to him. 
Thin layers of dough. Creamy cheese. Crushed nuts. Honey.
A long ago memory of your mom's smiling face as she watched you take a bite. Sunlight made her golden and immortal in that singular moment in your very heart.
You offered it up like the cake was a sacrifice, like you were offering yourself up to the god to make the final decision of the worth of your mortal soul.
“This is the first thing I can remember my mom making for me.” You whispered, your work rough fingers curled nervously against the counter. “This meal is what got me a job here. I got to know you because of this cake.”
Zagreus took a small bite, then closed his eyes in bliss. He said your name with a weight that you never heard before. 
When he looked at you, his expression gentle and hopelessly fond, there was no need for more words. 
~
When he kissed you for the first time, he tasted like home. 
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hyperion-severus · 3 days
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I was thinking about how Scorpius says he’s going to try out for the Quidditch team and this is how I think it would go down…
The entire week prior to tryouts, he’s waking up extra early before classes and dragging Albus out to the pitch to practice (only once the sun is up though, so they don’t have to think about last year's events).
So when the announcement comes out stating who made it on the team, Albus reads Scorpius’ name right next to the word ‘reserve’ and turns to the other boy with an apologetic look, knowing he was hoping for seeker. Even after all that hard work he put in over the summer and during the first week of school, he still hadn’t made an actual spot. But despite Albus’ sudden preparation to console his friend, Scorpius is beaming, a smile splitting his face.
“I made it! I made it on the team!” He was practically jumping up and down as he gripped Albus’ shoulders, “Do you see that? That’s my name right there! I must write my father at once!”
Albus is apprehensive — had he tried out and only made reserve he would’ve quit and withdrawn his name, never letting anyone in his family know he even attempted for the team. But he gladly celebrates with Scorpius.
It isn’t even until the end of term that Scorpius finally gets to play. It had been nearly a whole year of Albus decking himself in Slytherin gear just to sit alone in the stands. He would cheer and wave at his boyfriend who was always sat on the bench where he’d sit the whole game giddily, just happy to be included.
One of the Slytherin chasers had broken a leg in a nasty fall during the last match and had been instructed to sit out for the next one. That meant it was finally Scorpius’ chance to shine. Albus hadn’t confessed how nervous he was for the blond boy earlier that day at breakfast. He knew Scorpius wasn’t all that nimble — he had nearly grown another three inches within the last few months, and he could never quite adjust to the length of his limbs in time for them to grow again. He also had a tendency to get distracted… But Albus hadn’t wanted to put a damper on Scorpius’ excitement so he had kept his mouth shut.
Scorpius rambled on and on about how ready he was and how much he had been training for this moment from the minute they left the breakfast table and all the way down to the pitch that had slowly begun filling with students.
Albus bid him goodbye at the changing room doors, and with a good luck kiss to the cheek he was off to be the worry-some boyfriend in the stands.
The match seems to be going fine for the most part, Scorpius is able to score a few goals and Albus is sure his throat will rip out from how eagerly he cheers for him. But unfortunately his hard work is still nothing compared to how many goals the Hufflepuff chasers are able to score. Albus thinks they might actually make it through the match without any issues until suddenly one of the Hufflepuff beaters is being thrown off his broom and straight into Scorpius.
Albus’ stomach falls as he watches his boyfriends head of white blond hair plummeting towards the pitch, his broom shooting off towards the opposite stands. He had never shot up from his seat and ran towards the stairs so fast. His heart was hammering in his chest both from the exertion of running, which he didn’t do often, as well as panic for his boyfriend's safety.
He hears shouts as he darts across the pitch to where professors and players have swarmed around the Hufflepuff beater and Scorpius.
The beater is holding his arm and groaning as the nurse mutters about him. Albus’ eyes finally land on Scorpius expecting the worst. Surely bones are broken, he’ll probably be weary of ever getting on a broom again, let alone going up high — it was probably over a hundred and fifty feet that he had just fallen.
But there Scorpius was, sitting up in the grass with the same beaming grin on his face that he had the day the teams were announced.
“Albus!” He shouted as his boyfriend came into view, “Did you see that? Wasn’t that wicked?”
Albus couldn’t wipe the petrified look off his own face as he fell to his knees next to Scorpius, his hands going to Scorpius’ shoulders and then to his face, holding him tenderly.
“You’re alright?”
“Of course I am! McGonagall’s wonderful cushion charms! Oh, but I do think I broke my ankle!” He said cheerfully as if he had been offered sweets
Albus’ eyes glanced down at Scorpius’ foot that was twisted in an unnatural direction. Albus cringed, his stomach turning uncomfortably at the sight. He quickly turned back to face his boyfriend. His cheerful attitude had not been when he was expecting at all. He was far too perky for the situation he had found himself in.
“I’ve always wanted to have a cool quidditch story to tell!” Scorpius explained, only wincing slightly as he shifted his leg before his grin returned, “and now I’ve got one.”
Albus shook his head, still clutching Scorpius’ face, “You idiot, I thought you had died or something!”
Scorpius just laughed and the sound filled Albus’ chest with warmth. He was unable to keep the fond smile from cropping up on his face.
Later, towards the very end of term, when the couple was laid in bed together, the curtains drawn tight so their dormmates didn’t eavesdrop, Scorpius confessed something to Albus.
“I don’t think I’m going to try out for the quidditch team next year,” he admitted quietly.
Albus furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Scorpius had seemed to love being on the team, even though he had only truly played one game. He still raved about his mighty fall and kept the proud letters from his father about making the team.
“Why not? I thought you loved it. And next year you’ll have an even better chance making an actual position,” Albus inquired. Granted, he would secretly be glad he wouldn’t have to wake up early on the weekends for game days anymore. But seeing Scorpius eagerly engaged with something was more important than getting a few extra hours of shut-eye.
“I dunno. I don’t think it’s for me,” Scorpius sighed. “I was pleased to make the team, and now I have a story to tell, but I think next year I want to focus on me things.”
Albus still couldn’t understand. Scorpius’ attitude towards quidditch all year would never have led Albus to predict this conversation. Scorpius had checked out every possible book on quidditch from the library and had whole notebooks full of notes on moves and players.
“Has the team been bullying you? Are they saying stuff?” Albus wondered.
Initially there had been a few hard-headed responses, saying Scorpius didn’t deserve to be on the team due to last year’s fiasco, and the rumors that hadn’t truly died about him being Voldemort's son. But they had quickly died off after a few curt threats from Albus himself.
“No, no, no! They've all been great,” Scorpius assured. “I just think… maybe I’m not a quidditch guy, you know? I had my fun. I think it’s time to move on.”
Albus knew what he meant, neither of them were quidditch guys. He had thought that last year when Scorpius had first mentioned wanting to try out for the team. But he had always been sure to support Scorpius in what he wanted. He had made a promise of that when he had made a promise to Scorpius to not be so self centered.
“You know I’ll support you in anything,” Albus assured, “But why don’t you think this over during the summer? I don’t want you to regret it.”
Scorpius hummed and pulled Albus closer — it would be the last night they got to share a bed for a little while, as tomorrow they were to board the Hogwarts Express to head home for the summer holidays. “I don’t think I need to. I’ve made up my mind.”
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clarisse0o · 5 hours
Text
Camp Wiegman-Part 75
Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle
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Alternative Universe: Military School
Words: 5K
Masterlist
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Saturday, March 26th; 10:00 AM - Lucy and Ona’s Apartment.
"Come on, call her. You’re not going to stare at that phone all day, we’ve got other things to do," teased Lucy, who had just come out of the bathroom.
I groan to show my displeasure, but eventually, I dial my mom’s number. It was time to handle it, and I couldn't keep putting it off. The ringing tone echoed... for a long time... When it stopped, I was ready to speak, my mouth open, but I got her voicemail instead. My heart relaxed at this. I don't know why, but I felt relieved. I immediately hung up.
"I got her voicemail."
Lucy laughed. She definitely noticed my reaction.
"Well, better luck next time. Go get ready, or we’ll be late."
"You’re the one who spent forever in the bathroom."
"Oh, so now it’s my fault, huh?" she laughed as I was already heading down the hallway. "Remind me, who didn’t want to get out of bed?" she shouted so I could hear her.
"At eight-thirty, I had every reason to stay in bed!" I yelled back from the bathroom.
I could hear her laughing as I started putting on my makeup. It was the last thing I had to do. Lucy had wanted to take a shower, so I couldn’t access my things earlier because I wanted to give her some privacy. She needs to understand that weekends are sacred too. Not all of us are motivated to go jogging in the morning. I’ll never understand her on that. We’re supposed to grab brunch with our friends before heading to the gym. It’ll be good to all be together again. Aitana and Beth are supposed to join us later in the day, according to Lucy. I was finishing my makeup with mascara when my phone rang. I groaned seeing my mom’s face on the screen. Lucy came over at that moment, already making fun of me.
"Answer it, or I will."
"Definitely not."
I rolled my eyes, picking up my phone from beside the sink. She’s been pushing me to do this since yesterday, and I have to admit, she’s right. Otherwise, I’d never do it. I answered the call and held the phone to my ear with my shoulder while finishing my second eye.
"Hello?"
"Ona! Did you try to call me? Is everything okay?"
"Hey. Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. Am I disturbing you?"
"I just got out of surgery. I operated early this morning. Well, more like last night. I’m about to grab some coffee. Are you sure everything’s okay? You rarely call me."
I smiled despite myself. I’ve always admired my mom for her work, even though it cost her a lot in terms of family life. It takes a lot of mental strength and confidence to perform surgeries. She’s a general surgeon. When Mapi needed surgery, she wasn’t the one to handle the case, but I know she made sure to be involved in every procedure for my sake.
"I’m fine, really. I just wanted to call to apologize, that’s all."
"Apologize?" she whispered. "For what?"
"For my behavior last time," I said plainly. "We left without me getting a chance to talk to you again. So yeah, I’m sorry. My reaction wasn’t directed at you."
"Oh... You don’t need to apologize, Ona. I completely understand."
I smiled like an idiot. She really thinks Mapi didn’t tell me how worried she was. From what I’ve heard, she was scared to death, yet here she is acting like nothing happened.
"No, it’s important. I need you to know my anger wasn’t directed at you," I said, smiling at my girlfriend, who finally turned around when she saw everything was fine.
"Alright... well, thank you for calling."
"I also wanted to let you know that we’ll definitely be attending your wedding, in case that wasn’t clear."
"Really?"
"Of course. We wouldn’t miss it."
"Will Lucy be coming?"
"Yes, that’s who I meant by ‘we.’ I hope that’s not a problem?" I teased.
"Oh no, no. We’d be delighted and honored!"
"Great... So, when is it again?"
"June 18th. I... Ona?"
"Yes?"
"I know it’s not the kind of thing you ask over the phone, and I’d understand if you say no, but... I’d like you to be my maid of honor, if you agree. You don’t have to answer right away, it’s just that—"
"Mom," I interrupted. "Calm down. I..."
I took a deep breath. This was hard for me, but I was doing it to keep my promise to my dad. He wanted me to be there when it happened.
"I accept. No problem."
"Really...?"
The surprise in her voice was obvious. A small smile formed on my lips.
"Yeah, it seems so," I teased.
"You know, if you’re feeling obligated or anything..."
"Stop. I accept, that’s it. Don’t make me change my mind."
"It really means a lot to me, Ona, truly."
"I figured."
"I’ll make sure to pay for your dresses, for both you and Lucy. We’ll pick them out together, so they’ll match."
"Whoa, slow down," I laughed. "We’ve got time."
"Can you come during your vacation? You know you’re always welcome at home, even though you’ve chosen to live with her in Manchester."
"I know, but we won’t be around this vacation. We’re visiting Grandpa and Lucy’s parents in Portugal."
"Really?" she asked, surprised. "She’s from Lisbon too? You’re meeting her parents?"
"She’s from Porto. We’re doing one week with Grandpa, then one week with her family. I still need to call him to see if he can host us."
"Oh, knowing him, he won’t say no. He’ll be thrilled to meet Lucy."
"Yeah, I’m not worried about that."
"Don’t be afraid to meet Lucy’s parents either. I’m sure it’ll go well."
"We’ll see," I sighed. "I should hang up, we’re supposed to meet for brunch," I said as Lucy reappeared, tapping her wrist.
"Oh really?With who?"
"We’re meeting our friends at eleven."
"Oh, well, I won’t keep you then. Have a great day, and let me know when you’re coming back to Barcelona."
"No problem, I’ll talk to Lucy, and we’ll keep in touch. Have a good day."
One last goodbye, and I hung up. Lucy immediately came over as I was putting away my makeup.
"Talk to me about what?"
I laughed, shaking my head. She looked so innocent, but I was sure she had listened to the whole conversation.
- Going back to Barcelona.
- Again? she groaned. That’s all we ever do!
- Oh, don’t complain. We’ve only been there twice together. And I think I just agreed to be her maid of honor. I don’t know what came over me.
Lucy laughed and wrapped her arms around me from behind, kissing the top of my head.
- Well, I’m proud of you. I assume everything went well?
- Yeah... she acted like everything was fine, as if nothing had happened. That’s a first.
- Well, that’s good, then. And why do we have to go back to Barcelona?
- She wants us to choose our dresses with her... and be matching.
- Wonderful, she teased.
- Hey, I said, turning towards her. Don’t make fun of me! I wouldn’t mind matching with you.
- That’s not the problem. It’s that I’ll have to endure another shopping session with the mother-daughter duo.
- Well, I have to meet your parents for the first time in a few weeks, I laughed in return. We all have our challenges, babe.
- That’s true, she replied, giving me a playful smack as I walked out.
I’d learned my lesson from last time, so I didn’t react to her playful gesture. We’d moved past that, and she didn’t catch me off guard this time.
- Did you remember to bring your design ideas?
I froze mid-step and turned back around.
- What would I do without you… I mumbled, making Lucy laugh.
I headed back to our bedroom to grab them. She wanted me to bring my ideas since she hadn’t had a chance to look at them this morning. After grabbing them, I got dressed to go out, and we left to meet our friends downtown. We’d noticed that the little Italian restaurant next to the gym offered brunch, so it didn’t take us long to decide to try it out today. The renovations were coming along great. We had time to finish up the locker room prep before the furniture arrived next week. Someone was coming to check if the plumbing was usable as it was. If so, Lucy said it would leave us with a little extra budget, though she wasn’t too hopeful. The place was pretty old and had been heavily used. When we arrived, I wasn’t surprised to see we were the first ones there. Lucy’s an early riser and hates being late. I’ve been on the receiving end of that before, and once was enough for me.
- So, when’s the wedding? You didn’t tell me the date.
- Oh, right. Uh, June eighteenth, I think.
- You *think*? she teased.
- It’s definitely the eighteenth. Are you done now?
She laughed as I playfully hit her shoulder. Looks like she’s in a teasing mood today.
- Oh, relax, I’m kidding. Maybe we can go after your exams, yeah? We’ll be on vacation, so we might as well enjoy it. It’ll take your mind off waiting for your results.
- Really? But what if I have interviews? And what about the gym?
- We’ll make sure you have a school and a gallery lined up before you leave Camp Wiegman.
- Easier said than done...
- Are you done complaining yet? I heard from behind. We can hear you from the other end of the restaurant.
- Oh, shut up! I snapped playfully at my best friend.
- Hey, cutie pie.
I smiled as I stood up to hug her. I’d missed her. It’s about time she moved here so we could properly catch up.
- Wow, it’s been a while since I’ve heard that nickname.
- No kidding!
I greeted Ingrid as well. Mapi sat beside me at the head of the table, and Ingrid across from me after greeting my girlfriend too. Mapi and I exchanged goofy smiles. Looks like I wasn’t the only one who missed this connection.
- So, Miss "I’m stressed about my exam," how’s it going?
- I’m fine, I chuckled. Are you mocking me?
- Oh no, she laughed. It’s just funny. You weren’t like this in high school, and I never imagined you’d turn into this.
- Well, people change, what can I say, I responded with a genuine smile.
- What’s new since I’ve been gone?
- Not much.
- Really? she raised an eyebrow.
- Yeah, honestly, nothing major, I said, glancing at Lucy. Everything’s going well. I’m looking for a gallery, we’re working on the gym, and I’m studying for my exam... that’s about it.
- So, what’s the update on that interview you had? The big gallery, she probed.
- Fields hasn’t changed their mind. I don’t think I’ll accept, but for now, I haven’t heard back from the other galleries, so it’s tricky...
- Stop worrying.
- I’m a month away from taking my exam and I’m without a school. I have every reason to worry, I replied.
Lucy rolled her eyes. It’s been a bit tense between us regarding this. She takes it so lightly that I wonder if she’s hiding something from me again. Luckily, Alexia and Jenni arrived at that moment. We greeted them and ordered right after they settled in. We didn’t want to drag things out since we had a lot to do today.
Saturday, March 26th; 1:00 PM - Gym
It was just Ale, Mapi, and me in the break room, finishing up stripping the wallpaper. There was one wall left, and the goal was to have it ready for painting tomorrow. Our girlfriends were in the locker room since the others hadn’t shown up yet. The plumber finally arrived, and Lucy wanted to be there for the assessment. I didn’t mind. It was nice to hang out with my friends. The atmosphere was great, even while working.
- So, notice anything? Ale asked Mapi with a mischievous grin.
- Notice what?
I gave Alexia a wide-eyed look as she smiled slyly. She knew Mapi wasn’t up to date on the progress of my relationship with Lucy. I turned bright red as Ale motioned towards me with her head. Mapi, who was between us, stared at me.
- Well? What don’t I know yet?
Alexia burst out laughing. I didn’t find it funny. There’s no need to make a big deal out of every milestone in my relationship.
- Your best friend became a grown-up last weekend.
Mapi gasped and smacked my arm hard.
- Ouch! I exclaimed, rubbing my arm.
- And you didn’t even tell me!? When? How? You better tell me everything to make up for it!
Alexia was laughing hysterically. I couldn’t help but follow suit, despite myself. This was exactly why I didn’t want her to know. She always has to give me the third degree.
- You couldn’t help yourself, could you? I scolded Ale.
- Nope, I had to share! It was too memorable and funny to keep to myself. You should’ve seen her, covered in hickeys and grinning ear to ear the next morning, she told Mapi.
They both started laughing. Okay, maybe I was on a high at the time. Hearing how she described me now made me feel really embarrassed.
- So, how did it happen?
- It just... did.
"It just did"? Do you think that’s a satisfying answer for me?
Stop. Seriously, it wasn’t planned at all. It just happened, that’s all. And it was good. She was really great with me. That's it. You won’t get more details.  
I stuck my tongue out at her when she groaned.
"I can’t believe you hid this from me again!"
"Hid what?" Lucy asked, just walking into the room.  
Oh no, that’s all I needed. We all know how she reacts to Mapi in these situations.
"Oh, nothing. You just need to know how your girlfriend is so mute and stubborn," Mapi pouted.
"Hmm… I think she’s improving. At least with me."  
I smiled as Lucy wrapped her arms around me from behind, rocking me gently. I leaned into her embrace.
"Can you come with me? I need your help," she whispered in my ear.
"Really? Well, sure, if you want."  
She let go, and I took her hand to follow her. It was the perfect time to be honest. Maybe Mapi would forget about this whole thing… though I’m probably being too hopeful. Before we left, my girlfriend added:
"By the way, we’re thinking of going out to a bar tonight with the others. So, if you're not up for a night at The United, now's your chance to have a girls’ night."
Her suggestion surprised me, but of course, my best friend jumped at it.
"Oh, that’s a great idea!" Mapi exclaimed. "What do you think? Since I’m already here."
"Yeah, why not," Ale agreed.
"We’ll talk about it when I get back, to figure out whose place we’ll go to," I said.
The girls agreed before I left with Lucy. She led me to the main room.
"So, what about the guy? Did he give you a rundown of what’s working and what’s not?"
"Yeah. We could keep the plumbing, but he can’t guarantee it’ll last another three years, so instead of taking the risk and redoing everything later, we’re just going to replace it now."
"Ouch... That’s a shame."
Lucy shrugged and gave me a small smile.
"It’s fine. We anticipated this. He’ll give us a quote to see how much it’ll cost since we’re not doing it ourselves."
"That makes sense. Painting and demolishing is one thing, but this is more complicated."
"Exactly."
We reached the main room, where I noticed the guys had arrived, along with a woman I didn’t recognize. I slowed down when I saw that she was holding my sketches, the ones I had given to Lucy earlier in the day. She was tall, about Lucy’s height, with a normal build and heels. She was charismatic, with long, silky black hair and lightly made-up blue eyes. Lucy smiled at me, seeing my hesitation.
"Don’t be shy. Come on," she said, pulling me forward.
"What’s this about now?"
"Oh, here she is," Beth said when he saw me. "Hey Ona."
"Hey..."  
I went around, greeting everyone, including the woman holding my drawings. I quickly returned to Lucy, who had opened her arms, letting me snuggle into her.
"Let me introduce you to Grace," Beth said. "She has an art degree, but she mainly works as a street artist. She’s the one who did the decoration at my paintball place."
"Wow," I said, remembering the place. "Well, congratulations. You’re really talented. I loved what I saw."
"What she means is, she was completely blown away by it," my girlfriend embellished.
Grace laughed, shaking the papers in her hand.
"Thank you, I’m flattered. I could say the same about you. You’re very talented."
"Thank you," I replied, blushing.
I smiled shyly, sinking further into Lucy’s arms. I don’t handle compliments about my work well since I’m not used to people looking at it. Lucy smiled at me, kissing my temple.
"I imagine you’re not here for no reason?"
"No, indeed," Grace smiled. "Beth and I recently reconnected, and he’s been talking about you and how hard you’ve been searching for a gallery. It just so happens that I recently opened one myself to start working more seriously after all these years."
I listened carefully. No… Don’t tell me...? I glanced at Lucy, who was grinning mischievously. I couldn’t believe it! She surprised me again.
"It turns out I was supposed to collaborate with a friend who backed out at the last minute. The gallery’s already open, but I’m not keen on hiring someone when I’ve just launched it."
"You mean…"
"I’d like you to come work with me. As an apprentice, of course. You’d cost me less, and based on what I have in my hands, you’re talented. Our styles are very different, but I think we could complement each other. Plus, with your management degree, you’d be a great help to me."
"Oh, I’m not sure you should rely too much on that degree..."
She laughed heartily. I guess I’ve said enough times that management isn’t my strong suit.
"Well, what I mean is that your résumé is interesting to me. So, if you're up for it, we could do a trial at my gallery to see if you like it. Of course, the condition is that you need to get your diploma first… Although, to be honest, I’d take you anyway, but your girlfriend here doesn’t seem too fond of that idea, from what she just told me."
I smiled broadly. I playfully hit Lucy’s chest, pushing her away slightly. She laughed.
"You hid everything from me again! You’re unbelievable!"
"Hey, I didn’t know," she defended herself. "Beth just told me this morning that she was bringing someone for you today."
"Is that true?" I asked her.
"Yeah," Beth replied, amused.
"I hesitated a lot," Grace admitted. "I hope you’re ready to work because there’s no shortage of it."
"I’m not afraid of that."
"Good, then there won’t be any problem," she said. "Lucy told me you’re going on vacation soon, but if you’re up for it, you could visit the gallery one weekend and do a trial run, like a day or two, to see if it works for both of us."
"Yeah, we’ll arrange that," Lucy agreed. "Maybe we could exchange contact info to stay in touch?"
"Sure," Grace said with a smile. "I’ll handle the arrangements with your school. I’ve got some former professors who might be able to help you secure a spot."
"Thank you so much. I really don’t know what to say."
"Oh, don’t thank me. You’ll be just as helpful to me, so I’m happy to help in return. I hope this will turn into something good for both of us. Who knows, maybe if the sales go well, I’ll be glad to keep you on afterward."
I was thrilled and incredibly relieved. A huge weight was starting to lift off my shoulders. We exchanged contact information and promised to keep in touch. She left shortly after, and I kissed Lucy deeply without hesitation. I really hoped this would work out.
"Oh my God. I can’t believe it’s real. Thank you so much, Beth."
"No problem," she replied. "I’m glad I could help. It wasn’t even planned. We just happened to reconnect, and I mentioned you. She immediately showed interest. From what I just saw, it looks like she likes you too."
"Same here. She’s really cool. Nothing like Fields, for example."
"Oh, definitely," Lucy agreed. "So, are you good now? Can you relax?"
I stuck my tongue out at her in response. She laughed heartily. Unlike me, she had never doubted, and honestly, it felt good. Even when I couldn’t believe in myself, she was always there to remind me that anything was possible. And today, I had proof. I’d found a gallery. This was going to be the new driving force in my life. In our life. I no longer had to consider Fields’ offer, and I was so happy. I could finally turn it down with no regrets.
"I love you."
"I love you too. Now, should we get back to work?"
"Yep."
"Come with me. Let’s go over your sketches and see what we can come up with."
I smiled, following her to the back rooms. I couldn’t wait to start this project. Even though they were just small images without much cohesion yet, I was sure Lucy’s imagination would help bring them to life. And so, our day continued.
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clowningaroundmars · 2 days
Text
thanks to the amazing @starcut-sand for the inspo, i now present to you all... a new multi-chapter adventure! this time featuring our beloved gwen stacy and miles42 :)
no, it's not a ship fic lol but i hope to keep you all entertained nonetheless
this one will update much faster since i've plotted it all out and have drafts written already. so stay tuned for new updates coming soon!
general content warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of blood, kidnapping, drugs, poisoning, death, bullets and explosions, teenagers being teenagers
without further ado, let's get into it!
part 1 of 4 >>
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Gwen woke up in a small, dark room not knowing how much time had passed since she was knocked out cold.
And she knew she was knocked out cold, of course, because even she knew never to take a cat-nap in the middle of a mission.
That she was on currently… if memory served her correctly.
Slowly, painstakingly-- with knives in her ribs and her left shoulder still sore from her earlier encounter-- she sat up. Flicked through her watch to make double-sure that the migraine throbbing in her brain wasn’t tricking her into a vivid hallucination of some kind.
Earth-42 stared right back at her, bright green digital letters dancing and blurring in and out right before her very eyes. When she reached up to touch her forehead in a spot that itched, her glove came away with a bit of dried blood on the white fabric.
Shit.
Gwen could not let Jessica down under any circumstances, especially since this was her first mission since… well, since Miles Morales from earth-1610 came in and single-handedly caused the collapse of the Spider Society as everyone knew it.
Which wasn’t really a bad thing in the end, but it did mean that poor Jess had to step up as the leader shortly after Miguel was forcibly dethroned.
“I’m the interim leader right now,” she would say to anyone who called her “boss” or “CEO” or any variation of the word. The poor woman already had enough on her plate as it was with a newborn and a new family life to tend to, so Gwen understood 100%.
It was also why the pressure was on her shoulders to complete this one tiny, manageable task that was given to her.
Gwen wasn’t stupid. She knew she was on a sort of probationary period after her first blunder on earth-1610. And the fact that she turned her back on the Society to break a couple of rules, help Miles, save the multiverse... well, all of that didn't help matters much.
She ignored the looks cast her way every now and then by other Spiders when visiting HQ, but she knew. She tallied up those glances whether anyone knew of it or not.
But then there was also the stupid feeling of… sentimentality hanging in the air, keeping her chained to the Society when most of her other Spider friends had already abandoned the group.
Yeah, her relationship with her father was… repaired, for the most part. But damn it if she didn’t take a liking to Jessica Drew, too! Sue her.
So here she was, on a mission to visit earth-42 and investigate an anomaly that seemed to threaten the very fabric of space and time. Again.
Gwen was already starting to regret her very dumb, not-very-well-thought out decision to volunteer for this one, though.
No time to complain right now though. We’ve got a problem to solve, Gwen mused, forcing her annoyance, frustration, and panic deep down for the moment.
Her aching brain switched over to Work Mode once again, and she immediately slid into compartmentalizing and sorting every bit of detail that she could manage to remember in the present moment.
Her head was bleeding and throbbing, which meant she sustained a brain injury of some kind. She wobbled unsteadily to her feet, wiggling them and checking on her balance. Her head complained louder, but she seemed to be able to walk just fine.
Okay. Good. It wasn’t a bad injury-- and if it was, it seemed her enhanced healing factor already took care of the majority of it in her sleep.
Alright, time to examine her surroundings now.
While she did so, she found it pretty irritating that while her injury didn’t put her out of commission, it seemed to wipe her entire short-term memory instead.
She eventually sat down on a crate in the corner of the room that she was imprisoned in and with her head in her hands, started sorting even harder through her mental files.
… Nothing.
Well, nothing past the memory of flying through the designated portal she opened back in Jess’s office shortly after receiving her mission assignment. And then landing on top of a familiar-but-not-so-familiar building on earth-42's Brooklyn.
She vaguely remembered the late evening sunset, almost choked out by the various plumes of smoke reaching up to the heavens from the fires that still raged on in parts of the city.
... And then? Nothing else.
Gwen remembered how it was like when earth-1610’s Miles-- her Miles-- ended up in this strange world for the first time, a time that seemed like it was eons ago to Gwen, but couldn’t have been more than a few months ago. The fires were much more numerous, news helicopters everywhere and crime seemingly never-ending.
She couldn’t speak on the crime rates per se, but the place looked a little bit less like the mess she and her Spider Band stumbled into at first.
She distinctly remembered thinking to herself-- before swinging down and heading towards the reports of the anomalies-- that she was glad that the Prowlers seemed to get some things under control. If it was them battling the crime in the first place, that is.
But now there was no time for such thoughts. Wherever the Prowlers happened to be now, they were most likely nowhere near her location. Calling Miles-42 up on her watch would be… distasteful, especially this early in the game.
Especially when she had no idea if he was even available or not. Hm. Maybe she should’ve let Jess ping him and let him know of her arrival as per the usual protocol, but. Oh well.
Too late for that now.
So she stood up again, massaged her shoulder and rolled her neck, and blinked the stars out of her eyes. Time to get to work, for real this time.
She eventually happened upon a door that seemed to lead to the outside, which was really well-hidden against the four walls that enclosed her inside.
The room she was held in wasn’t very big, but it was dark. There was only one tiny little window high up near the ceiling that offered a glimpse up into the night sky beyond.
So it was well past sunset… better than not knowing anything at all, right?
The exit was seemingly hard to get out of, unfortunately. Try as she might, Gwen’s strength alone couldn’t get the giant metal door open. She pushed and pulled on the edges, tried sliding it left and right, tried kicking at it. It didn’t budge.
Whoever trapped her in this… storage closet seemed to know exactly what they were doing, who they were dealing with… whoever they happened to be.
Sinister laughing echoed in the back of her mind as she recalled her run-in with the bad guy but… couldn’t for the life of her remember who he was! So frustrating!
Still, this was earth-42. The baddie could’ve been anyone at all, anyone from the Sinister Six Cartel that she knew still held power on the streets here.
Even with their power slowly slipping from their collective grasps, it wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility that one of those assholes still owned a high-security compound out in the middle of nowhere. It also wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility for one of them to have enough tranquilizers to knock out ten elephants, and use that drug on her to drag her out here.
For all Gwen knew, she was probably miles and miles away from Brooklyn, too. Just great.
No time to despair. Time to concentrate.
Okay, so she couldn’t really get past this gigantic metal door that seemed to be made of some titanium alloy or whatever. That left the small space up high on the wall that probably served as ventilation for the room, only sporting thick metal bars to prevent things from getting in… or out.
Gwen quickly scaled the wall and eyed the dimensions of the space before deciding that if she got the metal grating off of the concrete wall, she might be able to squeeze her shoulders through and possibly achieve freedom.
Assuming as well, of course, that the security in this building was easy to get past.
But she would rather take her chances with evil police-drones and bumbling goons than sit another minute in this prison waiting to see who exactly captured her.
Gwen got to work, using her super-strength to painstakingly detach the grates corner by corner, trying to stay as quiet as possible. She bent a few bars in the process, but what was a little property damage to a Spiderperson? No big deal.
If the bad guy who kidnapped me wanted his compound to be spotless and damage-free, he shouldn’t have kidnapped me in the first place, Gwen reasoned.
After what felt like hours, the grating was off. She was free! Now all she had to do was--
Gwen’s heart almost leaped out of her throat and into her mask when glowing purple and white eyes suddenly came into view. They narrowed into slits.
“Jesus Chr--!!! What the…” her brain fully booted up this time, taking a second to stare right back into the glowing eyes of...
“Miles?” She gasped, once it hit her.
The glowing eyes blinked once before finally nodding at her. He raised a metal claw to his mask’s mouth in a universally-recognizable gesture.
Shhhhh.
Gwen’s own giant white eyes blinked back at him before shifting out of the way to allow Miles to extend a begauntleted arm into the room through the window and shoot out… something.
A spark of purple lit the room up, and shortly after, a clattering of glass and plastic resonated through the room before the place fell deathly quiet once more.
“There was a camera in there with you, most likely recording audio, too,” Miles offered as an explanation.
“… Oh. Well, thanks.” Gwen said awkwardly.
So she was wrong. Somehow, in the middle of the night in this odd prison she woke up in, Miles Morales happened to find her anyhow.
She wasn’t used to… this other Miles, and they hadn’t spoken much after their first meeting months ago.
He would join the Spider Band on their own missions sparingly. As far as she knew, only 1610’s Miles hung out with him with any sort of regularity. The kid was a complete mystery to everyone else otherwise, and whenever he was brought up around 1610, the topic was usually brushed off as casually as possible.
Gwen had no clue why 42’s Miles didn’t seem to take a liking to any of the members of their little motley crew. She figured he probably had a hard time keeping up with super-powered heroes and just left it at that, even though from what she could see of their encounters-- however far and few between they were-- the kid seemed to have talent. He was able to keep up with them on most days without barely breaking a sweat.
So all in all, a total mystery to her. Even if this guy shared the same face as her best friend and ally Miles Morales, he... moved differently. Acted differently. Like Miles Morales, but in a different font.
He started to shimmy his shoulders into the room to get past the tight constraints of the window. Gwen stared at him with a cocked head the entire time.
He used his sneakers to cling onto the wall for a little bit, reaching right back out of the window once inside. He pulled in a backpack through the opening and promptly dropped down onto the cold hard floor of the room.
“Uh, hi? Wait. Weren’t we supposed to both escape through that window instead of you, y’know, coming inside?”
Miles-- well, 42--shook his head as he threw his pack back on in one swift motion. “I checked the perimeters, and we’re a long, long ways away from the city. Even if we managed to get past the millions of goons and cameras everywhere, they got dogs doing night shifts out in the woods.”
Gwen’s heart sank. Shit. Her earlier thoughts were coming true. They were far away from Brooklyn, which complicated their escape plans even more.
“I mean… ugh, I-- we can climb the trees! Right? If we just--”
“The guards, Gwen. They got guns loaded up with bullets. But you know what I got? A plan.”
Gwen blinked back at 42 yet again. “You do?”
42 took confident steps back as he put some distance between them and then triple-tapped the side of his mechanical mask. Gwen watched with awe as the front of the mask sectioned itself up and off of his head, revealing a laser-focused expression on Miles’ handsome face-- er, his regular, normal, totally-not-good-looking face!
From somewhere on his mask, a bright purple hologram was projected between them, suspended in mid-air. The lights cast the entire room in a hazy purple glow.
The hologram projected a 3D blueprint-like map of the entire building-- all 5 stories of it. Each floor was meticulously detailed, down to the various entrances and exits and relative dimensions of the many, many rooms the building held.
42 tapped his mask again, this time on the chin, and a maze-like structure materialized, all of it hovering on top of each other and weaving themselves in between the floors… a maze-like structure that seemed very, very familiar.
“Vents!” Gwen snapped her fingers once she recognized them. “You have the blueprints of all the ventilation shafts in the building!”
42 nodded, the projection bobbing along with his movements. “Yeah, I do. I’m a Prowler, right? We always stay prepared.”
Gwen squinted at him. “I guess...? How’d you get stuck in this place if you’re always prepared, then? Did you get kidnapped too?”
“Nah,” 42 answered easily, a corner of his mouth quirking up for a split second, “I followed you here.”
Gwen blinked at him for what seemed to be the umpteenth time. "What."
42 sighed. “You got knocked out by this dimension’s Doctor Octopus. He threw you into the back of a van and ordered his goon squad to bring you back up here, to a secret location he’s got surrounded by energy dampeners and signal blockers. Most likely? He knows you’re not from this dimension and wants to experiment on you. But me? I’m here ‘cause me and my uncle have been lookin’ for this place for months. It’s… top-secret, this compound. Classified.”
“Oh. How did… how did you know he’d bring me to the place you and your uncle have been looking for this whole time? What if he brought me to another building?”
42 smirked, the purple lights of the holograms twinkling in his eyes. “Doc’s assets are being… uh, slowly compromised by us with the underground resistance. Not many places for him to throw his unwilling science experiments into nowadays.”
So it wasn’t just Gwen’s imagination. This dimension really has been steadily cleaned up by the Prowlers and their freedom-fighting allies. Well, that was good to hear. Still didn’t provide much relief for their current situation considering this was Doctor Octopus they were talking about here, but it was still nice to know.
“Well. That’s great to hear, then. What’s the rest of your plan, after ducking out of here through the vents?”
42’s mask re-formed back onto his face and the glowing purple and white eyes came back online. “We’re not ducking through the vents. Well, yet. I came here on my own mission and I gotta complete it before leaving.”
Gwen sighed softly. “Which would be...?”
Getting the whole story out of this version of Miles was like pulling teeth! Was it always going to be like this? Because if so, this wasn’t going to be a very easy mission to pull off after all.
“I can get you out of here first, if you want,” 42 glowered at her, voice distorting behind his mask’s voice-changing technology. His tone seemed impatient, too. “I can stay behind ‘til I’m done.”
Gwen shifted her weight onto one leg. “No, not a chance. I have to stay here and make sure Doc Ock doesn’t turn you into minced meat. Plus, you’re the one who has all the blueprints and cool glowing tech thingies. I’m sticking with you until we can both get out of here!”
This seemed to satisfy 42, because he gave her one unreadable nod in her direction. “… If you’re sure, then let’s go.”
He moved swiftly, much more gracefully than Gwen was used to seeing a Miles move. He walked almost silently, crouching down near one side of the wide metal sliding door thing that Gwen was trying to unsuccessfully pry open earlier.
He reached back into his gear that was saddled on his back and pulled out what seemed to be a small metal object with tiny purple lights on the outer edge. It attached itself onto the door and then 42 was sliding a hidden panel that Gwen had completely missed.
Gwen eventually sidled up to him and clasped her hands behind her back. “I see we’re sticking real well to the branding here. Purple lights, purple holograms… very cool,” was her lame attempt at lightening the mood.
“Yeah, it’s a family thing,” 42 muttered as he worked on… what seemed like some electrical circuitry built into the door. It glowed a soft green. “Been passed down for a couple of generations.”
Gwen hummed. “Oh, I see.”
A beat of silence as 42 continued his work.
Gwen checked her watch once more as she leaned on a wall. “Soooo… should I be doing something while you… y’know…?”
“Yeah, you should be quiet.” 42 answered.
“Ouch.” Gwen replied back as flatly as she could. “Look. I don’t wanna step all on your toes or anything while you do this whole… Prowling thing, but we’re a two-man team here! I’m at the very least trying to make conversation,”
“Okay, sure,” 42 replied easily, never taking his eyes off of his task. “Why are you in my dimension in the first place? Since you like to talk so much, maybe you can tell me that.”
Gwen sighed loudly. Great. Here she was trapped in a bad guy’s compound in the middle of who-knows-where, with the meanest Miles in the entirety of the multiverse. Just her luck.
“I was sent here on a mission. By Jessica. You know, the other other Spiderwoman? Who’s now in charge of the Spider Society, by the way? Yeah, we detected anomalies here in this dimension and she sent me to check it out. But… well, I kinda already screwed that up so I guess I can go and kiss my Society membership goodbye for good this time. Happy?”
42 glanced up at her then, his mask as unreadable as ever, the darkness enshrouding much of his body language. He slowly stood up and backed up, silently gazing at Gwen all the while.
She stood there glaring at him with her arms crossed.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m happy.” 42 finally replied coolly. “Now keep quiet, we don’t know if there are guards out here on patrol. My mask is still calibrating its infrared heat sensors so I can’t see ‘em yet.”
Infrared heat sensors? God, is this kid packed to the teeth with high-tech spy gadgetry or what?
Gwen begrudgingly did as she was told, taking a couple of steps back as 42 lowered the brightness of his mask’s glow.
The door rumbled open with a mechanic hum, and that’s when it hit her; Gwen couldn’t have possibly gotten the door open by herself, because it wasn’t just locked… it was hooked up to a main power source and sealed that way.
Damn. Looks like she really did need to rely on this guy to escape this place, after all.
Well then.
They poked their heads out of the dark room and quietly surveyed the expansive maze-like hallways of the compound. Pipes running the entire length of the ceiling as far as they could see told them both everything they needed to know.
42 took a quick step back to update his mask’s digital blueprint and map out exactly where they were.
Gwen glanced back at him. “What’re you doing now?”
“I'm marking where we are...” He then drops his voice to a near whisper, eyes still methodically scanning the area around them. "This compound's built into the side of a steep hill, which is how I climbed in. We must be on the north side, then."
He tapped his mechanical claws on the tip of his chin and started thinking aloud. “Which means… what I’m lookin’ for has to be underneath the ground, towards the south. I’m lookin’ for a room not on the blueprints. And... and I think I know exactly where to start.”
“You think you know? I thought you had a plan!”
“I do,” 42 threw back. “An escape plan. But you’re stickin’ with me, so now we’re gonna do some Prowlering. Unless you changed your mind?”
Oh, right. This game. Well, this kid wasn’t getting rid of her that easily, that was for sure.
“Oh no, no. Just making sure you’re capable of getting out of here, is all,” she offered innocently.
42 might’ve rolled his eyes behind his mask, but it was hard to tell.
Together, they moved through the halls as silently as possible, straining their ears for any sign of human life-- or robot life, really-- as they quickly made their way down several wide corridors.
All of the halls started blurring together since they all looked completely identical to Gwen, save for the numbers on the various doors they passed by changing and getting smaller as they advanced.
After several minutes had passed, Gwen wanted to open her mouth and ask 42 where exactly they were heading to since it didn’t seem like their trip was even coming anywhere close to an end, when he suddenly grabbed her and pulled her around a corner they had just walked past seconds earlier.
Gwen made a slight noise of confusion and then sucked in a breath when the sound of metal clanging and machines whirring echoed all around them. 42 was closest to the corner, head turned over to where she suspected the intruders were coming from.
Sure enough, a pair of heavy work boots stamped gracelessly down the halls and the casual back-and-forth between the men that suddenly came into view could be heard more clearly.
“… Can’t believe he’s got us down here working doubles now, man! Sucks,” one of the men grumbled as they made their way past the two vigilantes and opened yet another giant metal door with a keycard.
Gwen’s vision zeroed in on it as the man reached behind him to tuck it back into his pocket, and her split-second reflexes allowed her to time her web just right.
She snagged the card and held a breath as the door whirred shut right behind the men, both of them none the wiser.
“Whew,” she said after a second of tense waiting, and smirked at 42 who held a metal claw out for the keycard. “Look who’s got a plan now! Aren't you glad I stuck around?”
42 chuckled, the sound warbling slightly under his voice modulator. “Yeah, that was pretty cool. I can admit that. Now that we got this, we might be able to use it to get into the room I wanna get into once we find it.”
“Right,” Gwen pipes up once they continue their descent deeper into the bowels of the compound, “about that. You never told me what it is that you came here to find. In fact, you’ve been pretty cagey this entire time. Like, about everything.”
42 made an undecipherable sound. “Uh, yeah. This is my recon mission, not yours. You’re not even from this dimension, this doesn’t really concern you.”
Gwen grunted. “Gee thanks. If that’s how you feel, then I’ll be having my keycard back!”
42 shook his head and laughed. “I didn’t mean it like that, man. I meant… just don’t worry about it. It’s info we’re looking for to eventually take down Doc Ock. If I said it out loud here, it might jeopardize this whole thing me and Aaron have planned. I'm in work mode right now, I'm sure you get it,”
Gwen relaxed a bit more. In a way, she did get it. She even understood 42’s hesitance to have her aboard to work with him, since working on group projects wasn't exactly on her own list of top ten favorite things… especially when the project itself concerned the very fabric of the space-time continuum.
Gwen was a solo hero, and maybe since 42 was here on his own, he finally graduated into being a solo hero, too.
Actually, on that topic…
“Does your… does your uncle know you’re here, then? If he does, maybe he can help us get out of here?”
42 helped himself to a healthy pause. “Yes, and no. Aaron’s not… here, near the compound. But he does know I’m out on a mission.”
Gwen stared at him. “Sooo… call him? I’m sure he can get past security, right?”
42 laughed yet again, shaking his head. “Guess you didn’t hear me back in the other room when I told you there are blockers all over this compound, huh.”
Gwen cocked an eyebrow at him and their lenses met.
“What I mean is,” 42 continues, “tech down here doesn’t work very well due to all the interference the Doc’s put up to conceal this place. Again, top secret. Super classified. My own mask took a little while to come back online, and some stuff is still… coming back online. Kinda."
“And your communicators wouldn’t happen to also be on the fritz, would they?” Gwen asked, fully knowing the answer she was going to get.
“Mmnnyep, communicator’s offline. I dunno what the hell Doc’s got this place running on, but it’s not electricity. I’m not too concerned about the details, though,”
Here, they came up to a wide metal door marked in bright caution-tape stripes with several warnings plastered on its surface.
“... ’Cause I got my eyes on the prize,” 42 finished, swaggering up to the door’s keycard panel and successfully getting the thing to slide open.
They both fell into fighting stances in case anything behind the door leapt out at them and attacked, but… there was no one and nothing in the spacious cave-like room beyond it.
Nothing except… a humongous collider!
Gwen gasped as she lowered her fists and advanced forward, making her way over thick wires and past computers to get closer to the giant dimension-ripping machine in the center of the room.
It looked… not quite as high-tech as the one in her dimension, or Miles’-- er, 1610’s collider, that is-- but it was completely unmistakable. The form never changes, neither through space nor through time. It was indeed a collider built by none other than the infamous Doctor Octopus, even if it didn’t quite look as close to being complete.
There were still various wires draped on ladders near the edge of the lab, scissor-lifts located below the platforms parked for the night, and several components were missing that seemed to lay underneath odd-looking bulgy sheets on top of several tables nearby. Gwen made her way over to a computer and woke it up, balking at the password-locked screen in front of her eyes.
Damnit. Damnit! It wasn’t just an anomaly that the Society managed to detect… it was the energy signals from this collider, most likely having gone through some initial tests before advancing to this final stage of construction.
If this was it, then Gwen needed to get back to Jess with this information ASAP!
She fiddled with her watch a bit, but it still looked to be on the fritz somehow, not letting her switch to any other dimension or access the other features Hobie had installed into it. Weird.
She straightened up and glanced behind her, hoping that 42 had some kind of tech or knowledge that would help crack this computer open so she could take a look through the files to gauge just how far along this little pet project was… only to find that she was alone.
... Alone?
"Miles?"
Silence. Her heart jumpstarted a bit and started hammering away in her chest as she hurriedly made her way past rows of tables, science equipment, and computer screens of all sizes, only to find a pair of legs sticking out from underneath a weird car-shaped machine set aside in the corner of the gigantic lab.
She stood there for a bit with her hands on her hips, quieting her thoughts and watching as 42 tinkered away at whatever the hell he was tinkering away at.
She eventually kicked a purple Jordan gently and smiled bemusedly at 42 shuffling his way out from under the machine.
“Having fun down there?” She said as casually as she could manage.
42’s mask was off slightly, still framing his face, but now Gwen could see his slightly exasperated expression in full view.
“Yeah, actually, I was.” He gave her a full view of his snarky attitude too, while he was at it.
He laid back down and pushed his way underneath once more.
“Is this gigantic collider in the middle of this room not a huge concern to you at all?”
“Not really.” 42 answered from under the machine.
“Can I ask why? You do know that if the Octopus gets this thing done and booted up, that your entire dimension is at risk of collapsing just like every other dimension that’s had a collider in it before?”
“Really? Ya don't say,” 42 replied sarcastically, clinking and clanking away. The machine rattled a bit. “That’s nowhere near done right now and I gotta prioritize my priorities. I’m getting to root cause of the problem rather than just climbing in here and smashing stuff up.”
“… Are you now?” Gwen deadpanned.
A mighty metallic scraping sound jolted its way through her eardrums suddenly, making Gwen jump slightly. After a second or two, 42 slides out once again with a big sunny grin plastered onto his face, holding up what looks like a small motherboard with a bunch of metal wires still attached to the metal casing it was screwed into. He only wore one gauntlet, she noted.
He quickly took his pack off and got to work inlaying the computer part into a panel in his pack that she had never noticed before.
A total tech marvel that thing was, really. Even Gwen had to make a noise of approval when with a few purposeful jabs and swipes, the whole pack disengaged and unfolded itself open, much like his mask. No tools required.
He made quick work of the task at hand, using one metal gauntlet as a makeshift toolset, his other gloved hand working to set the entire component into the rest of the pack’s inner workings.
Once that seemed to be done, all of the circuitry glowed purple for a beat before going dark once more. 42 tapped at his gauntlet, bringing up more info on the inside of his wrist, which he seemed to approve of.
“All set?” Gwen probed, still standing a little ways away from him, watching as he seemed completely engrossed in his little side-mission.
He reached back under the machine and pulled out his other gauntlet, springing back up once it was in his hands.
“Yeah. Better than all set, ‘cause now my pack’s online! I can use my climbing gear again.” At this, 42 unlatches a reel of rope from behind him, his grappling hook dangling on one end as he swings it in circular motions through the air. “Hell yeah,”
Gwen stared at him once again. “Your climbing gear wasn’t working? How did you climb into my window, then?”
42 gave her a bit of side-eye. "I got other gear besides my rope, you know that, right?"
Gwen huffed, clearly annoyed. "No, actually I don't. I've been following you this whole time and you haven't really been saying much at all,"
42’s mask slid back into place as he rolled his shoulders and readjusted his pack. “You ask too many questions,”
“You don’t provide too many answers,” Gwen bit out dryly. “Seriously, dude, we are in the middle of giant evil lair of some kind with no way to communicate with the outside world and you’re swaggering through this whole ordeal like it’s a walk in the park,” she huffs. “Why can’t you just tell me like, anything?”
They’re both face-to-face now, mask-to-mask, very obviously frustrated with each other if the electricity in the air was as thick as it felt.
Two teenagers butting heads in the middle of a giant lab, trapped in the lair of their greatest enemy… it would embarrassing if it wasn’t so absurd, but here they were, glaring each other down anyways.
“I am telling you things, you just don’t listen! Probably ‘cause you think your powers make you all-powerful and omniscient or something, that you think you don't need to listen to a word I'm saying,” 42’s words dripped with venom. “Seriously, staying with me to make sure I don’t get myself killed? Gimme a damn break. If sticking with me is soooo boring and you know more than I do, you can get yourself up out of here, then.”
Gwen bristled. “Listen here, jerk. I never said that I was better than you. Kinda telling on yourself there, don'tcha think?” She jabbed a finger in his direction. “I was perfectly capable of letting myself out before you fell in here and got us all turned around! I had it on my own, I could've gotten myself out of here ages ago!"
“And who’s stopping you?” 42 threw his hands up in the air. “Use your little spider powers to bust up out of here, and just leave!"
Gwen stepped back, seething. With fists clenched by her sides, she shoots 42 more daggers his way, hoping her mask’s lenses would convey the message.
Wordlessly, she turns around and shoots a web up to one of the ventilation grates high up in the cavernous room, sticking to the wall.
She works the grating off while 42’s Jordans pace right out of the room and into another side room, leaving the lab completely silent.
Fine. If that was how things were going to be, then fine. This was hardly the worst situation Gwen’s ever found herself in, and it most likely wasn't going to be over anytime soon. But she’s gotten herself out of stickier conundrums on her own, so this was just going to be yet another one of life’s little tests. Just a bump in the road.
A small, insignificant little bump.
As Gwen quietly seethed and crawled her way through the ventilation shafts (completely blindly, since she didn’t really bother to memorize the absolute maze that was whatever 42 showed her earlier) she came upon a vent opening that overlooked a room filled with monitors and… guards.
It looked to be a security room not too far from the collider room, and the men inside were armored to the teeth, only slipping off their helmets and masks to chat some shit over takeout containers and coffee cups.
The rest of the room was covered in tv monitors that showed various different CCTV camera feeds, all of them stationary. Most of them were pointing to the outside, though, hardly any of the screens showed views from the basement level’s numerous corridors, curiously enough.
Gwen doubted 42’s earlier claim that this building ran on some other form of power, since she didn’t think it would be very economic on the Octopus’ wallet to buy so many cameras and monitors and computers that ran on alternate power sources.
Maybe… if he was wrong… then maybe she could even use her watch to open up a portal in an empty room somewhere and just peace out!
Tell Jess what she found, because by now she’d pretty much done her job. Leave the rest to a more capable task force put together by the Society and just go back to her normal, boring, definitely not eventful life.
But then… as tempting as the thought was… she’d be leaving 42 behind. 42, sure, but a Miles nonetheless… a friend.
From what she could gather, the poor guy had very few friends, if any at all. If he wasn’t communicating to her properly, maybe isolation from his vigilante work was to blame, rather than a fault of his character.
Gwen propped up her chin in one hand and ruminated on all of these thoughts, arguing with herself over whether she should stay or go. She glanced at her cobbled-up watch, a permanent reminder of her best friend Hobie Brown, and laid on her back to mess with it one more time.
Her thoughts sunk down into the bottom of her stomach as she fiddled with it, continuing to get error messages as she tried to scroll through the various dimensions she knows she’s saved to her little watch, coming up with nothing even when she dared to try and open a portal in the middle of the vent shaft.
Nothing, nada. No dice. No portal whatsoever happened to materialize. It gave small sad beeps instead, really hammering home that… she really was on her own this time.
Damn.
Gwen didn’t know why, but this thought kind of depressed her.
At least on previous missions and patrols in her dimension, she was always acutely aware of how much rested on her own shoulders. She always went in with confidence and some sort of game plan, content enough to just let her quick thinking and powers get her out of any fight, any problem.
But ever since landing here on earth-42, she seemed… discombobulated, not entirely in her element. Everything in this dimension seemed to work against her at every single turn.
She’d have to bring that up to the other Spiders, ask if they’ve ever felt anything like she was feeling before.
If she could get out of this building in the first place, that is…
A loud, jarring alarm jolted her violently out of her wandering thoughts, and she almost hit her head on the ceiling of the vent, rolling over quickly to peer down into the room below her.
The guards were pulling helmets and masks on, scrambling up from their previous positions and pouring out of the security room door as quickly as they could.
In the midst of the sudden chaos, Gwen’s wide eyes honed in on one particular screen, which was pointed directly at the collider room’s interior…
... And directly at earth-42’s Miles Morales himself.
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JoJo Siwa doesn’t deserve all the hate (and homophobia) she’s getting for her style and music; but she does deserve scrutiny for defending Colleen Ballinger and being both active and complicit in abuse that happened on her TV show. Like the girl has been under the public eye in unhealthy environments all her life; cut her some slack — not too much; she’s still a responsible adult — but if you’re going to dogpile her, then at least dogpile her for the right reasons. Jesus Fucking Christ.
#jojo siwa#discourse#Her comment sections are VILE#I actually don’t hate her songs. They’re basically early-2000s new old stock and I like early 2000s music#Is she trying too hard to look like an “adult?” Yes. But that’s understandable.#What isn’t understandable is screaming at children for no fucking reason#and JoJo not helping at all when a girl was hemorrhaging out her belly button#when JoJo’s mother told the girl to “put a pad on it”#I don’t care how afraid you are of your parents; you END that shit the second you see it#I was raised in a cult and I actively sabotaged my parents’ preaching work on multiple occasions#I didn’t know if I’d get kicked out if they found out I did that; the only reason I still have a relationship with them#is because they never found out about my later sabotage#Dad preached to a waitress dangling a cure for her sons’ disorder in front of her nose as incentive to join and gave her literature#So I went to the restaurant with him and insisted I pay for the tip.#I gave her eight dollars and a sticky note with a bunch of keywords about the cult’s abuses to look up#The next time I went there#she said didn’t understand the sticky note and asked me while he was gone what I meant#I hate talking to people especially when I’m under pressure because I trip over my words even when I’m NOT anxious#But her kids’ lives being free of a cult meant more to me than avoiding a momentary discomfort so I gave a quick rundown#She thanked me and heeded my warning basically playing along with me and not saying anything to my dad about it#I was 20; JoJo was about 19 when her show was going on#She had no excuse for allowing her mom to do that.#At the very least she could have said “Oh god I’m so sorry she said that. Please don’t hurt yourself for my show; go to the hospital.”#But no. She didn’t do that. In fact she screamed at children and joked that if they were crying then it was a good show.#Bitch come here and do that in front of me. I double dog dare you. I may only be 5’5” but I fight dirty and I’m angrier than you#Sorry. I guess I do hate her… for THAT specifically.#Like yeah I’ve fucked up with the kids I help and yelled when I didn’t have to but I HATED doing it and tried to do better later#Why someone would SCREAM at kids on purpose for long periods of time for no reason is beyond me
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raksh-writes · 11 months
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Maybe this doesn’t need to be said, but Im feeling awful about it, so -- to any mutuals that might notice Im not following them anymore, I'm sorry about that. I've just seen too many posts on my dash that I have no way of blocking because they're not tagged in any way and they're distressing enough it's turning one of the only places I considered a safe space not safe for me anymore. So for my own mental health, I had to unfollow. I Will refollow in the future and I still love y'all, but I just-- I can’t. Ive been noticing some very worrying stuff about my mental and emotional state and it's just too much currently. I hope it's at least an understandable decision, and I wish y'all are having a good day out there 💗
#personal#I know its important to keep up with current events#but life overall's been a bit too much for me lately#I should prob go back to my therapist#I haven’t seen her since I went back to uni#for one because I didn’t know my schedule when we last meet and we both thought this should balance me#finally having purpose again and doing what I actually enjoy#but I also don’t have a job now so its costs and... I don’t know#but I probably should now that Im thinking maybe its time to actually get medicated for real#tho first maybe I should just visit my family doc and ask for those vit d supplements my therapists talked about#see if thats gonna be enough#autumn (and winter) has always been an awful time for me in terms of mental and emotional health#but it feels even worse these days#like Im battling against depression every day recently and rarely anything works to distract me#which is why its been hard to get back to peels in dms and such too#I was meant to meet with a friend now that Im studying in a city she lives in but I have yet to get back to her#and it feels like I have not only Zero but like Negative energy and motivation#+ Ive been dealing with an upset stomach for Weeks now#no matter what I eat it feels weird and achy and barely anything tastes good for me already so now its even worse#anyway this turned into such a rant Im sorry#I just didn’t want the lovely peeps Ive been mutuals with for a long time to think I stopped liking them or smth#its just certain untagged posts that I would otherwise block if I could#and I dont wanna impose onto anyone like a 'rule' to tag them or whatever#so yeah this is just temporary#hopefully at some point I get better enough to survive the couple distressing posts heh...
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donnatroyyyy · 1 year
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Batman has/had some kind of miscommunication going on with every single one of his kids. The bat family is just one big miscommunication trope after the other.
#him and Dick have miscommunication about how they see each other. Bruce sees Dick as a son and Dick sees Bruce as a father#but they didn’t think the other saw them that way so they never told each other. that’s what led to their fights in Dick’s later teenage#years and dick quitting and becoming nightwing. he thought Bruce only saw him as a ward/robin so he thought that as long as he couldn’t be#robin Bruce wouldn’t want him#and if didn’t help when Bruce stopped talking to him when he left. though to Bruce it was because he thought Dick didn’t want to talk to him#and also Dick really needs to tell Bruce like ‘hey you put me on a higher pedestal then you put even yourself which is saying something and#and I don’t like that cuz that’s too much pressure for me. and also since you did it everyone else does it and has done it since I was Robin#and it’s literally just a matter of time before I break from the pressure cuz I’m not fucking Superman and I can’t take it’#and Jason with the whole UTRH thing. you know all Bruce had to say was that he had tried killing the joker over Jason multiple times and#maybe just explain to Jason WHY he doesn’t kill. a simple ‘you’re better than me because if I killed one person I’d kill everyone’#or it could even just be a simple ‘I do love you Jason youre the kid that I felt most comfortable loving’#and also maybe a ‘I don’t think anything changed after my death and that makes my death meaningless which I think goes against your no kill#rule because I hat is the rule of not a reminder taht death means something. and by that logic my death already went against the rule so why#can’t you do it again for the man that murdered me.’ and Bruce needs to make a presentation: ‘all the ways Jason’s death meant something’#and Tim just needs a simple ‘I don’t see you as work I see you as family.’ maybe even a ‘you don’t have to be the grown up in this relati#anymore I’m sorry you were one to begin with. you should’ve always been the child’#now his miscommunication with Damian goes much deeper but I’m one hundred percent sure if they sit down and air out all of their feelings it#would help a lot but I have a feeling that won’t happen#a ‘I have trouble understanding you because both your trauma and compassion run deeper than mine and I also never had to grow up to be a#weapon’ from Bruce and a ‘I don’t understand your optimism and moral stubbornness and easness why is it so easy to be good for u?’#his miscommunication with Cass stems from two things a simple ‘why are you so afraid to show how deeply you love?’ from Cass maybe a#‘I’m jealous of you because you’re better than me not only in fighting but morally and emotionally’ from Bruce should fix it#and Steph— look I’m not even going to TRY to get into that that goes SO much deeer and wider than any one else’s miscommunication#but maybe a ‘you reminded me of Jason at a time where that wasn’t a good thing’ from Bruce should start things up#for Duke a ‘I can never truly understand what you’re going/have gone through and for that I’m sorry’ from Bruce should suffice#maybe also Bruce telling him that just because he sees Duke as a son doesn’t mean he’s trying any less to get Duke his parents back#oh and babs just needs to go up to him and say ‘I don’t like that what happened to me happened for your story and not mine and I don’t like#that you don’t let me make it into my story’ and then Bruce can follow up and say ‘I see so much of myself in you and it makes me worry and#also I can never look at you without feeling guilty cuz you’re right what happened to you happened for MY story so I’m at fault’#then the two can go back to being too much like each other and sitting at their respective computers
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