#hey girl did you know that um (beams an image into your brain

[aquapede]

some characters inspired by random songs with the palettes of their album art

EDIT: I FORGOT ONE

[everlarkficexchange]

Clubbing 101

Written by @alliswell21

Prompt 144: She has a night of fun before the start of the semester. She meets this guy, they hit it off that they sleep together. But when she shows up to her class the next day, she sees the guy again. But he’s her professor and he’s way older than she originally thought. #olderPeeta [submitted by @animekpopxx]

Rating: Explicit. NSFW. 

Tags and Warnings: Canon Divergence; College!AU; Age gap, older man/younger woman; The opposite to slow burn? Smut; Unprotected sex; technically impaired consent since alcohol, but their both into each other while sober too 🤷🏻‍♀️; Ethical dilemmas; Teacher/Student relationship (sort of); One Shot, with an ambiguous open ending? Almost 10K words. Unbetaed. 

Notes: Thank you to the moderators once more for putting up with us, procrastinating writers. You gals are saints! Thank you to @animekpopxx for her amazing prompts that never fail to snag my attention and give me the best ideas ever! You rock! I projected this story to be a smutty short thing, but it sprouted words and a background out of nowhere and I had to forced myself to stop adding to it, to get back to my other submissions waiting in my docs. Hopefully, it’s a good read for the ones who take the chance with it. 

Thank you all! 

KPKPKPKPKP

It starts with a harmless ranting. 

“I’m not outgoing, or fun. I’m not even ‘cool’… hell, I don’t care what my sister says, I’m too old for this place!” I tell the handsome, bearded, guy sitting in the barstool next to me, “She’s a med student, you know, but she insists that partying is part of the college experience, especially when one’s career is so demanding… plus, is the last weekend of summer break, which apparently means you’re contractually obligated to party extra hard,” I roll my eyes, “I never saw the appeal personally, but I let her drag me out here so I can keep an eye on her. Is not like I’m gonna let her piss away her future for a night of clubbing,” I scoff, taking a long pull of my beer.

The guy chuckles, but I’m not done just yet. 

I slam down my bottle and continue listing my grievances, “The thing that grinds my gears, is that she begged for a ‘girls’ night out’, and instead of drinking with me and people watch, she goes off with the first fucker that asks her to dance! I mean… did it ever occur to her, I may want to dance with her on OUR girls’ night out?!” I scowl and gulp another mouthful of beer, “then, to add insult to injury, thirty minutes later I get a text from her, saying to go on home without her ‘cause she found a ride, followed by that cursed eggplant emoji, like I needed an illustration of what kind of ride she’s getting,” I mock gag, rearranging the strap of my tiny purse across my chest. 

 “I guess she’s young, and beautiful, and does work very hard, but if you invite me to go clubbing with you, don’t abandon me within the first 15 minutes of arriving!”

My companion winces before sipping his drink, and smiling ruefully, “That’s harsh… sorry you’re having a shitty night,”

“Meh… little sisters, right?!” I shrug. 

The guy smiles crookedly at me, and I find myself enjoying his smile, “I wouldn’t know about that. I’m the baby of three brothers, and the only thing I got away with was learning how to wrestle and spring awesome comebacks on the fly… the brutes kept me on my toes,” he chuckles. 

“Three boys? Sounds chaotic. Your poor mother!” 

“Yeah… life’s chaotic.” He averts his eyes for a second, his smile goes away. I’m afraid I’ve said something wrong, but he suddenly looks back at me, and confesses, “I’m not into clubbing either.” His eyes sparkle, despite the awful, dim, blue lights bathing the place. 

I smile, “Look at us wallflowers, bonding over drinks and sibling shenanigans,” we clink our drinks together and sip. I’m chatty and relaxed, so unlike myself; I guess the two beers I’ve had are starting to get to me. “I’m Katniss, by the way.”

“That’s pretty,” he says, shyly; makes my chest warm up. “Nice to meet you, Katniss. I’m Peeta.”

I arch my eyebrows, “Peter?” I repeat, because I’m pretty sure I miss-heard him over the obnoxiously loud music. 

The guy shakes his head, “Pee-ta… like the bread?” He chuckles. Then adds, “Family name. Everyone on my dad’s side are bakers.” 

I snort-laugh, “Punny!” I say, taking another sip. Yup, beer’s getting to me, I’m not this cleverly funny. “My dad was into survivalism and botany… I’m named after a plant also known as Duck Potato, so I win the weird name competition!” 

“Hey, it’s something else to bond over,”

“Cheers to that!” We clink our drinks again, and partake in our booze. 

He orders another whiskey neat when he’s out… sounds both snooty and distinguished at the same time. Goes well with his put together image, though: nicely trimmed beard, nicely combed hair, nice polo shirt with what I believe is a tiny loaf of bread embroidered on the chest, and dark-wash jeans… I think. It’s hard to tell under the black lights of the club. 

He offers to get me another drink, and I order an appletini.

“J.D. from Scrubs always drank one,” I explain, swirling the coctel in my hand, “I’ve always been curious to try, but didn’t wanna spend my own money experimenting on a drink I could potentially hate.” 

“Makes sense,” Peeta says, “So… what’s the verdict?” 

“Is pretty good, actually. But I think I’ll stick with my Miller Light,” 

Peeta nods, “I honestly don’t enjoy alcohol that much.”

I giggle. “Then, what brings you to this fine establishment tonight, sir, if you’re not much for clubbing, or drinking?” I watch him out of the corner of my eye. 

I like that when he smiles, his eyes crinkle in the corners.

“I lost a bet against a colleague.”

“Oh,” I’m suddenly self conscious and a little uncomfortable. I give the guy a scrutinizing look, and ask suspiciously, “what was the punishment exactly?” 

The man rolls his eyes. “I have to spend one whole hour in the club, without criticizing anything, like the bitter old man I am,” he grins, “My friend’s words. Not mine!” He raises both hands, claiming innocence. 

I laugh at the face he pulls, “Well, you’ve just defaulted on that punishment,”

“How so?” He beams. 

“With the look in your face! It spoke volumes!” 

“Am I that transparent?” 

“You read like a preschooler’s board book, pal!” 

We both laugh, I drink my beer, and he throws back his whiskey neat. 

“So…” he makes a show of looking at his watch, “I still have 33 minutes to kill before I’m allowed to run out of this place… I know I’m not a Med student, co-Ed, sister of yours, but… would you, um, like to dance with me?” He sounds adorably hopeful. 

I glance at the man sideways, toying with my bottle. 

He smirks, mischievously, “I promise, spirits make me more coordinated on the dance floor. I become this amazing dancer when I have a couple of drinks on… or so my brain believes. I probably look like an idiot, but I’m too goofy to know the difference. You’re welcome to be the judge it for yourself,”

I take my sweet time finishing the last dregs of my beer, and wrinkle my nose, “You sure you wanna dance to this shit, kids call music nowadays?” I smirk, pointing a finger up, motioning wide circles into the ether. 

Peeta gives a full belly laugh.

I really do like his laugh! 

“Isn’t it our only choice?” He ventures. 

Not if you follow me home, my thirsty brain supplies; my lips on the other hand, just let through a hint of a smile, because I’m buzzed, but not drunk enough to proposition a total stranger. I’ve never been one to sleep around anyway.

“Okay,” I say, too enthused. “As long as we both agree that this isn’t music,”

“Oh no, this just barely passes as noise!” Peeta agrees readily. 

He guides me to the packed dance floor, and we start moving to the booming, deafening tunes playing overhead. 

I’m not sure if one could call this dancing. Everywhere I look people are writhing against each other, like a pack of zombies without grace or rhyme. 

I’m not sure Peeta will get an accurate assessment of his dancing skills, compared to what I’m seeing, he’ll probably look like a professional; plus, it’s too dark and busy in here to really appreciate anything, really, but after a few minutes of just shifting in place, robotically, I snatch two bottle beers from a waitress walking by, offering one to my partner, hoping that’s enough to get us loosen up. The waitress stares at me until I rummage on my crossbody mini purse and toss a crumple ten on her tray. 

The liquid boost works. Before I know it, I’m grinding my hips against his. Peeta’s just the right height for his thigh to fit between my legs and brush against my front. I get tired of undulating my arms in the air, so I drop them around his shoulders, and feel just how firm and broad he is under my touch. 

Our chests are tightly pressed together, and I’m at the right angle to just stare at his plush-looking lips. I turn around before I do something brash, like kiss him in the mouth. Peeta doesn’t question it, he just places his hands on my hips, and starts moving to the music’s beat. 

I bring the beer to my lips, but the bottle’s empty… oops! It doesn’t matter, I’m having the time of my life! 

Peeta’s swaying guides me. I basically drape my back over his front, and bump my ass into his groin. I feel the hint of a bulge there, and press my rear into it  again, just to confirm if I felt what I hope I felt. 

Peeta’s fingers tighten on my hip, emboldening me to keep going until I’m practically twerking into him, and his slight bulge morphs into a full blown hard-on. 

I twist in his arms to face him, my lust idled brain barely thinking rationally, “Are your 33 minutes done yet?” I yell into his ear, so he can hear me over the noise. 

He doesn’t even look at his watch, “To hell with time! I‘ll stay here all night, if you want me to,” He answers loudly. 

“Come on, then!” I push off his chest, and snatch up his hand before he can reply. 

Leaving the dance floor is surprisingly easily, considering the crowd bouncing in place together. 

I make no conscious plan on where we’re going; I’m arguably familiar with the layout of this place from my many visits since Prim turned 21; I’m only mildly surprised when we navigate across the club, all the way to the restrooms. It’s like my clit is making all the decisions tonight… good for it! 

There’s a line of disgruntled women waiting to get inside the Ladies Room, but the Men’s Room is available, and Peeta lets me guide him into it, like one of those pull toys children have. 

“It stinks in here,” I comment blandly, but make a beeline for the last stall with a door. 

There’s one guy at the urinal, but he doesn’t even look up from his pants, so I just shrug it off and yank Peeta into the stall with me. 

The space is tight, but once inside the stall, I push Peeta into the door, and attack his mouth. 

He makes a startled noise at the back of his throat, but his hands and arms immediately press me into his body more fully. My own hands trek down to his belt, where I fiddle with the buckle until it’s undone, and I can access his pants’ button and fly. 

He hisses when my fingers graze his warm erection, and bucks into my knuckles. I’m in the process of sticking my hand inside his boxers, when Peeta growls, sucking my lower lip into his mouth, and letting it go with a wet pop.

“Switch places,” he pants against my mouth, and hoists me up, until my back hits the door and his hands grab my hips possessively, jutting my pelvis forward, “I’m hungry, would you mind if I eat you out?” 

“Okay,” I gasp.

Thank you for forcing me to wear your tiny, clubbing dress, Prim! 

“You’ll allow it?” He asks, incredulous, rubbing circles on my hips with his thumbs. 

“Yes… I’ll allow it!”

His smile is sexy, his stare is hypnotic. Damned my drunken ass! I can’t believe I’m willing to do this in a smelly bathroom stall!

Peeta sits on the toilet and licks his lips while staring up at me. His hands disappear under the stretchy material of my skirt, bumping my purse out of his way. He skims his fingers under the elastic of my panties, and I bite my lip, nodding eagerly.

Slowly, Peeta slides my underwear down my legs, the tips of his fingers follow, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced!

Once he brings my panties to my knees, his hands rush back up my thighs, pushing the flimsy skirt around my waist. My underwear drops to my ankles on their own. 

Peeta’s level eye with my crotch, and I squirm restlessly. “Beautiful… absolutely soaked,” he whispers in a daze, he inhales pulling me closer, “You smell divine!” He descends, nose first, into the thatch of dark curls between my thighs, making me moan. He ruts his face against me, and suddenly drops to his knees, grabbing my calf to pull my leg up. 

But the movement gets prevented by my stupid underwear, tangled in my ankles. Without missing a beat, I toe my panties off, so Peeta can maneuver my body however he wants. 

He drapes my leg over his shoulder, opening me up to his ravenous mouth. He grunts, burying his face into my core, and finally, FINALLY, his tongue swipes between my folds.

“Fuck!” I squeak. 

My hands fly to tangle into his soft, perfectly coiffed hair. I nearly smother him, holding his face to my pussy, but he’s doing wicked things to me with his tongue: lapping, sucking, and nipping at my labia; drawing number eight figures around my clit with the tip of his tongue, to then sinking it deep inside my core. I can’t stop bucking into his mouth over and over.

When was the last time I was given head? Fuck if I know! Darius probably, he was decent, but didn’t do it often. And Thom was so boring at it, I actually preferred he didn’t do it. But this guy is amazing! A real expert in the matter! 

“I’m so close! Please… I’m so close,” I wail like a cat in heat, writhing against the door. 

Peeta looks up, and despite the horrendous lighting in the room, I realize he’s got the deepest blue eyes I’ve ever seen… too bad I can’t hold his gaze too long, because he starts rubbing my clit with his thumb, while fucking my hole with his tongue, and is all I can do not shout and scalp him in my delirium.

He doesn’t stop drinking my juices while I convulse above him. On the contrary, he retrieves his thumb, but keeps his mouth busy, lapping away all the slick I give him.

It’s too much.

I tug on his hair to pull him off of my sensitive privates. 

Peeta takes one last lick with the flat of his tongue and looks up at me, smiling wolfishly, “Was that good?” His beard’s dripping with me, he wipes some of it off on his sleeve. 

I snort, unsexy and definitely rude. “You made me cum so hard I saw stars… yeah, it was good. Better than good, really!” I smile down at him, and try to pull him off from the floor. 

All the gel holding his curls in place is gone now, rubbed off on my palms. His hair is sticking up on the top and towards the back of his head. I reach up to try and smooth it back, “I’m sorry, I seem to have made a mess of your hair,” I giggle. It’s adorable, but I feel bad that I ruined it. 

“You can mess my hair any time you want, Katniss.” He says, almost shyly, he places his hands on my waist, over the bunched up dress. 

It’s a big turn on to me, how his words are so flirty, but he delivers them so sweetly and awed. Is unexpected and endearing… which is odd, because I don’t usually find people endearing at all!

We both chuckle. 

He licks his lips, and I feel heat pool in my lower belly again. 

“Come’ere!” I wrap my hand around his nape, and pull his lips to mine. 

He responds immediately, licking the seam of my mouth. I suck on his tongue when he slides it against mine. 

He moans. 

“Fuck me, Peeta,” I rasp into the kiss, palming his dick through his jeans. 

He groans, “Are you sure?” He barely holds back another groan when I squeeze his clothed erection.

“Cock. In me. Now!” I command through gritted teeth, trying to pull his cock out of his pants with one hand, while taking his hand, and splaying it on my boob. 

“Okay… shit… this is… surreal! This has never happened to me before!” He kneads my tit, gently.

I’m not sure I was supposed to hear that, so I pretend I didn’t and turn, facing the door to wiggle my ass, in an attempt to convince him. 

Peeta makes a noise in his throat, quickly followed by the sound of shifting clothes, and a metallic thump from his belt buckle hitting the toilet. 

I whine when Peeta’s warm, heavy cock caressed my bare ass cheek. “Please don’t tease me,” I beg.

“Fuck, Katniss… do you really want this?”

“Yes, Peeta… put your cock inside my cunt, and fuck me all the way to next week! Now!” 

His warm body cocoons mine, “Anything you want, sweetheart,” he whispers into my ear, and I feel the blunt head of his cock parting my folds, coating himself with my natural lubricants.

He finds my entrance, pushing inside just the tip. He gasps, “Fuck!” One big hand wraps around my hip to keep me steady, bracing his other arm on the door, above my head. 

“Peeta… Please!” I wiggle my ass, making him sink another inch deep. 

“Hold still,” He hisses, “I’m trying to hold back… not ramming in too roughly… embarrassing myself, cumming too fast,” His hot breath warms my nape. “You feel like heaven!” He growls, tightening his hold on me. 

I’m torn, wishing he’d drill into me without mercy already, while another part of me is grateful he’s trying to stay under control… I don’t know which I want more… 

When was the last time I had sex? 

As if reading my thoughts, Peeta shares haltingly, “It’s been such a long time for me. I want it to last, but I’m

Not sure if I can,” 

I don’t have time to second guess myself, because Peeta’s moving, and he’s massive! 

“Don’t hold back!” I bleat, “I want it rough… I want it fast!” I gasp, clenching down on him. I paw at the door for purchase, trying not to face-plant on the cold, hard surface, while Peeta’s fat prick stretches me to the brink of pain! I can’t stay put for him any longer; I buck into him.

“I said to hold still!” He slaps my ass, hard. It stings, but it’s a welcomed feeling. 

I moan and melt, finally relaxing enough for him to penetrate me all the way to the hilt. He stays there a moment, breathing harshly into my neck, squeezing my hip on and off. 

“You’re so tight. So warm. So wet, Katniss.” He nuzzles my ear, “I’m gonna move now, I apologize beforehand in case this ends too soon for you…” He drags himself slowly out of me, just to plunge right back in with a swift, hard thrust. 

I squeak; he grunts.. 

Peeta holds me by the waist,  “You’re so pretty and sexy, Katniss. I can’t decide if you’re real, or the most vivid wet dream I’ve ever had…” he’s fucking me like a jackrabbit in rut.

I’m speechless, vaguely wondering if I didn’t dream him instead?

His cock head hits a spot deep inside me I’ve never reached before. I start babbling nonsense— mostly praising his cock and his strength— I don’t really know what I’m saying, but he seems to be enjoying it thoroughly by the increase in his speed and the volume of his grunts. 

I’m joisted up and down his shaft like a rag doll; I wish I’d thought of hanging my stupid little purse somewhere before we started, because now it’s bumping on my thighs, distracting me from the great ducking I’m getting; it’s no matter… I can feel my orgasm building in my belly.

“I’m gonna cum, sweetheart… I want you to cum too,” He nibbles on my earlobe. 

“Yes, Peeta! Please make me cum, I’m so close!”

One of his hands slides around my waist to play with my clit, while his other tweaks my nipples over my dress and bra. That, added to the sensation of my g-spot being prodded repeatedly, sends me spinning over the edge.

I must’ve screamed or something, because he clamps his hand over my mouth, and then he’s grunting, digging his forehead between my shoulder blades, and pulling me back against his unyielding body. 

“Fuck…” he gasps and shivers behind me. I feel his dick pulsing, his rhythm faltering, and then he goes still. 

Peeta sags a little, wedging his shoulder into the door to keep from falling. I’m surprised he still has the strength to hold me up too; I have to be dead weight at this point, since my legs feel like overcooked noodles and my arms gave out a minute ago.

We both try to catch our breaths, too spent and weak for much more, at least for a few minutes.

Peeta stirs. “Are you okay?” He breathes out, ruffling the loose wisps of my hair with his breath. 

I chuckle, leaning my sweaty temple on the cool door. “I can’t feel my toes… which is excellent!”

“Good,” he sighs. 

Three heart beats later, he straightens up and pulls out of me. An indecent amount of spend flows down my legs as soon as his cock dislodges from my pussy, but Peeta shoves something soft between my thighs quickly, before I have time to freak out about the mess.

I look down mildly curious, staring at an embroidery of a tiny loaf of bread. Vaguely, I wonder if that’s his uniform? He said he was a baker, right? At least he’s named after bread or something. I giggle. “Is this your shirt?” I ask, widening my stance to gracelessly wipe myself clean. 

“Yeah,” 

“Thank you,” I say, dazedly, turning sideways to smile at him gratefully. 

He’s wearing a simple, white, cotton t-shirt when I return the polo to him, now spoiled with cum and slick. I’m caught off guard by how broad shoulder he is, and by how nice he smells… cinnamon and sweat. Weird combination, but pleasant. I wonder if he baked any bread today? 

“Um… would you… would you like to put these back on?” He asks awkwardly, leaning down to pick up my discarded panties from besides the foot of the toilet bowl.

I wrinkle my nose, “Not really,” I mumble. “Who knows when was the last time that floor got cleaned. Gross.” 

Peeta smiles and shakes his head, “Here,” he grabs his polo, covered in our juices, and wraps my underwear in it. “Now it’s hidden.”

My body is finally catching up with the advanced hour, the beers and the two amazing orgasms. I’m starting to feel sore everywhere, and my eyelids are getting heavy. “Wow… think I’m officially all partied out,” I chuckle weakly.

“Ditto,” Peeta agrees, his smile is shy. “So… there’s this little dinner about two blocks from here,” he starts, eyes downcast; the space seems to shrink around us, now that the frenzy of our physical activities is done with. “Would you like to grab a pancake or som—“

My phone rings, startling us both into silence. I frown, but scramble to find it in my purse, to check who could be calling me… apparently at 2 a.m.!

My frown deepens. Prim’s smiling face flashes on the screen. She was supposed to be getting some herself! “It’s my sister,” I whisper, tamping down my rising panic. I don’t ask if it’s okay to answer, I just do it. “Prim?” 

“Where the hell are you?!” I have to pull the phone off, or risk eardrum rupture by my sister’s screeching. “I’ve been texting and calling you! I’ve been worried sick!”

I scowl at the wall, confused and little annoyed, “Prim… Prim, are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you need me to come get you somewhere?” I try to ask.

“What?! No. I’m home! But you aren’t, and I’ve been scared shitless trying to find you!”

I give Peeta an apologetic grimace, and blindly feel around for the lock to get out of the stall. “Um… why are you home so early? Last time I heard from you, you were getting a ride,” I’m trying to sound unaffected; It’s all I can think to say in my mortification.

“Never mind that! Why aren’t you home already? I thought you had to work in the morning and then go to sch—” 

While Prim rages at me, I place a hand on the phone and turn to Peeta, still in the stall, awkwardly facing the wall, I assume to grant me some privacy. I’m sure he can hear my sister’s frantic chastisement from where he’s standing. “I’m sorry… you’d think I was a teenager instead of a grown ass adult,” I roll my eyes.

Peeta waves me off good naturedly. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for keeping you so late,”

I’m about to say something else, but Prim yells loudly, something about calling the police and checking the hospitals for me, which truly prompts a reaction from me, “Calm down! I’m still at the club, exactly where you left me!” I cover the phone with my palm again, and turn to him. “I’m… I’m gonna go? Before she threatens to send the marines in,” I try to joke, but our situation takes all the levity out of it, and my attempt dies off, lamely. 

Peeta nods, smiling softly; somehow I can tell it’s not genuine. 

“Little sisters, right?” I offer halfheartedly, twisting my lips. 

“Can I… walk you out at least?” He asks quietly; Prim hasn’t stopped nagging this whole time. 

“I… it’s not necessary, but thank you…” 

Peeta nods again, looking disappointed. 

I don’t get to tell him a proper goodbye, because two dude-bros come in the bathroom, letting the noise from the club filter in; one of the idiots elbows the other, and both start making some lewd comments about me, but Peeta steps in, eyes wild with anger, and tells the guys to knock it off. Prim hears the whole thing of course, and goes nuts herself asking what’s going on?

Peeta looks at me, and motions his head towards the door. 

Message received, I step outside the bathroom and book it out of the club, “I’ll be home in a bit. I’m gonna call and Uber,”

“Call me as soon as you’re in it!” Prim demands.

“Fine! Now stop nagging me, will you?!”

I don’t realize I never looked back at Peeta to wave my goodbyes until I’m in the car, heading home. Regret truly is a bitch. I can’t help feeling like I just lost something important, but I have no idea what it is. 

>>—————> * <————<<

It’s been a very long Monday. I’m mainly running on caffeine at the moment, and can’t wait to get home and pass out in my fluffy bed, to see if I can catch up on last nights lost hours of sleep. 

I enter my last class of the day and find a seat in the middle of the third row. I pull my laptop, a writing pad and my mechanical pencil out of my bag, and watch as my classmates start filtering in one by one, greeting each other and finding their places, lazily. 

I’m the oldest student in this class, which is not surprising. I’ve only just come back from my extended— 5 year— sabbatical; and did it only after I was completely sure I could handle my workload and the financial strain of both me and Prim going to college at the same time, without giving myself an early grave. 

It’s been hard, but I’m glad I came back to finish my schooling, I only need a handful of credits to graduate, which is great!

I check my watch. We still have a few minutes to kill before class starts. The professor— Dr. Mellark, according to the copy of my schedule— is not here yet, so I pull up the banking app on my phone to give it another glance. The balance is still the same as the last two times I’ve seen it, but it doesn’t hurt to be extra careful when one is on a tight budget. I scheduled payments for the power, gas and rent to go out in the next few days, and I want to make sure there’s enough money in the bank to cover them. We’re looking fine for the month, financially speaking. 

The door to the classroom swishes open, and I start signing off my app.

“Good afternoon ladies and germs; I’m doctor Mellark, and provided you’re in this room for an English class, I’ll like to welcome you to the amazing world of Classic Literature!” Says a deep, male voice I find oddly familiar. “By the way, don’t any of you dare to disagree with me on the awesomeness of classic lit… I’m a doctor, I know what I’m talking about… unless you ask me about medicine, then please be free to disregard everything I say, because I’m not ‘that’ kind of doctor!” 

A murmure of little chuckles fills the room; even I smile, silencing my phone and putting it away, before looking up at the professor.

I choke on a strangled gasp when I finally set eyes on the man I assume is the teacher, dumping a worn, leather, messenger bag on the desk near the podium. He’s the last person I would’ve expected to have as a professor.  

Oblivious to my predicament, Doctor Mellark— or as I know him: Peeta!— keeps introducing himself. 

“I’ve been teaching this course for 14th years, but I’m always pleasantly surprised to hear the different points of views my students bring to our discussions on the classics we study, which in a nutshell, is the beauty of this class.” He pulls a ream of paper out of his bag, and gives it to a student in the front, “Please take a syllabus, and pass the rest to the next person, and so on… thank you!” 

My face is burning. I think I’m gonna faint. 

“But enough about me,” his voice booms, making my whole body shiver. “I don’t normally do roll calls or care about attendance, as long as you’re not missing assignments, and are here during discussions, so this is the first and last time I’ll be reading this list,” he rises a piece of paper above his head, I surmise has the students names on it, and he instructs, before reading, “I’ll call your names, and you’ll introduce yourself, briefly, that way we can all get acquainted with each other, yes?” 

Ugh! 

He can scratch my name off that list right now! We’re more than acquainted with each other.

Bile rises to my throat. An intrusive, bitter thought pesters me: how many of his students has he gotten ‘that’ familiar with? 

But the thought dies off quickly. An even worse, more worrisome thought springs front and center in my mind: Did we use protection?!

Panic rises in my chest, a nervous queasiness settles in my belly; a distant memory of warm goo sliding down my legs comes to mind… Oh shit! 

Oh shit, oh shit! We didn’t use a freaking condom? Who does that?! 

Oh shit! 

Would a Plan B still be effective right now? It’s been less than 24 hours… 

Peeta’s reading names. People stand from their seats and talk about themselves. I haven’t heard one word they’ve said, but I’ve been watching how some of the female students bat their eyelashes and speak all breathily, smiling coyly at him… Peeta seems oblivious to the flirting, but I still feel a cocktail of unpleasant feelings in the pit of my stomach. 

I realize, I’m jealous!

My ass is frozen in my sit, I’m not even breathing. I don’t think Peeta’s seen me yet, but… what will he do or say once my name comes up? I send a quick prayer to heaven, he won’t recognize me since I look nothing like I did last night at the club, with my hair down and my face all made-up. Right now and plain ol’ me… the rub is gonna be my name. Darn my dad and his awful naming whims! 

Soon enough, he reads a name that makes him stutter, “Kat…Katniss? Everdeen?” He does a double take, “Katniss Everdeen…” his eyes are the size of saucers when he scans the lecture hall, swiftly. When he finds me, he looks back down at his paper, and says the name out loud again, unsure, “Katniss Everdeen?” Like he doesn’t believe what he’s reading. 

I stand up woodenly, my voice cracks a little, “I’m—I’m Katniss Everdeen… hi!” 

I’m about to drop back into my chair, but Peeta kinda mumbles, “You know, Arrowhead, or Katniss is a water plant? The root is edible… like a swamp potato?”

There are quiet little giggles all over the place. 

Peeta clears his throat, his eyes flit away; his face’s blank of emotion, but his cheeks seem pinker than a second earlier, “I just read that online, believe it or not. Interesting facts about local flora, people. Reading is knowledge, but so is learning from one another… what can you tell us about yourself, Miss Everdeen, besides that you have a very unique first name?”

“I…” I harrumph, avoiding eye contact with Peeta at all costs, “I’m a part time student. Majoring in Botany. I took this class to fulfill my last English credits requirement for graduation. I do love books and classic literature, in particular.” 

“Thank you… Miss Everdeen,” he rasps. 

I sit down, clumsily, hoping this horrible, horrible moment is just a nightmare and that I’ll wake up any second now, drooling on my desk, with indentations of my notepad on my cheek, because anything would be less embarrassing than what I’m going through at this point.

Mercifully, Peeta calls a different name, and then another, and then another. I don’t look up from my notepad once.

Peeta for his part, sounds stiff and monotonous— or so I’d like to think— no more jokes or clever sayings. Maybe he’s not as affected as I am about this ordeal, and I’m just making it a bigger deal than it really is? Maybe he does have experience sleeping with students— I mean, it’s not unheard off, right?— Not that either of us had any idea we were engaging in a teacher-student affair last night… 

Although, calling it an affair is generous; it was a measly one night stand. A chance encounter. Two people letting off steam before a busy week ahead. 

I’m getting increasingly angry with all this thinking… and the class seems to drag on. It feels like an eternity, and my mind keeps churning up all kinds of questions: Why would he not say he was a teacher at this particular college? Did he lie about being a baker? Is his name even Peeta? 

I scoffed at the thought.

To my horror, I hear him ask, “Anything to say, Miss Everdeen?” 

Looking up at him requires a great deal of bravery and self admonishment, but I do my best and face him— he’s wearing glasses now, which makes my belly tightened for inexplicable reasons— “No, Doctor Mellark, nothing of consequence anyway,” I retort as venemosly as possible, without alerting anyone else there’s something weird going on between me and the professor. 

Peeta grimaces slightly. Then looks away, “Very well, as I was saying, we will start with the basics: The Iliad and Moby Dick, since those are High school level works, I expect your reports to be sufficiently well researched, and your personal ideas on the text somewhat fleshed out. It doesn’t have to be in-depth. I’m just looking to determine everyone’s style and needs for the semester ahead…” he continues his spiel, and I feel free to go back to my stewing and my musings. 

Before I know it, Peeta’s dismissing the class, wishing everyone a good rest of their evening. 

I jump into action, packing my stuff with my head bowed, but then I hear him again.

“Miss Everdeen, a private word, please?” It’s much too quiet to have been said from his podium. I still startled when I look up and find him standing right against the first row of desks, directly in front of me. 

His face is not quite stern, but he’s definitely less smiley than when we met. 

I force down a gasp, because under the better lighting of the lecture hall, and close up, I can see a plethora of details I missed at the club; like the arresting blue of his eyes, the slight reddish of his neatly trimmed beard, peppered with silver whiskers all over, while his perfectly combed hair is almost all silver on the temples, and ashy blonde on the top. His shoulders are even broader than I remember. 

He’s overall stockier than I originally thought, and just a smidge shorter, which is fine, he’s still the most handsome man I’ve ever met, and I wouldn’t mind climbing him like a tree—

I shake my head off the intrusive, lecheros thoughts. I’m literally lusting after my teacher, for goodness sakes! This is beyond a silly schoolgirl crush!

Peeta arches one dark blonde eyebrow at me, expectantly. 

I nod curtly, because my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth, and gesture for him to lead the way.

I shove my laptop into my bag, and hastily shoulder the straps, hugging my writing pad to my chest, following my professor like a chastened little girl. 

My stupid eyes find his ass, and I blink twice, at the exquisite sight in front of me. I groan internally. 

He grabs his own bag, takes off his spectacles and slides them into his shirt pocket. 

How old is this man?! He said he’s been teaching this class for 14 years, when do professors start their teaching careers? How did I never see him before now roaming campus? Is his age the reason he ate pussy like a master? 

I shake my head, cursing my horny brain. 

Peeta opens a door I have no idea how we came across, and then stands aside, gesturing for me to go in first. 

I duck my head and step into a warmly decorated office, with a small desk and two chairs in the middle of the room. Bookshelves full of tomes line the office. A handful of pictures and framed diplomas hang from the only available wall space in the room, but I don’t get to study them before he catches my undivided attention. 

“Let me start by apologizing,” Peeta stars, closing the door behind himself, “I assure you, it wasn’t my intention to cause you any stress, or embarrassment out there.” He pauses, “Would you like to sit?” He offers, wincing. He doesn’t wait and steps around me, to pace on the other side of his desk, “I… um, never been in this position before,” he scowls, “I’m not sure what assurances I can offer at the moment, except, that I will start the process to recuse myself from this class immediately, to not interfere with your academic—“

“Recuse yourself?” I cut him off, “what do you mean?” 

Peeta squirms a little, and sits down heavily on his chair. My bag slides off my shoulder, and I just dump it in the empty chair I was offered a moment ago. 

“Well, Miss Everdeen, it’s the right thing to do, given our circumstances. We’ve breached the appropriate boundaries of our pupil and teacher positions, and staying in the same class together will put you at a disadvantage… is a power imbalance situation, that calls for action.”

“Can you stop calling me ‘Miss Everdeen’? It’s weird…”

“I’m just trying to maintain an acceptable level of decorum between us,” he says sheepishly. 

“That ship has already sailed,” I say tiredly.

“Perhaps, but it’s my responsibility to still try,” he rubs his forehead. “Anyway, I’ll call my department and see what is next. Stepping down myself is the only fair solution I see so far… it would be terribly unfair to ask you to switch classes. Simply disrespectful, but we both can agree this uncomfortable situation needs to be nipped in the bud, for both our sakes, Miss Everdeen.”

“This is bullshit!” I snap, “What happened in that club, isn’t that terrible of a problem! What we really need to do is stop acting so stiffly and guilty. By the way, you sound like a walking thesaurus!” I accuse, looking him in the eyes for the first time since he called my name at the lecture hall. “Stop it!” 

Peeta inhales deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Miss Everdeen, our actions last night may have been honest, and even innocent in nature, but they still carry consequences… unexpected ones, especially in light of the facts. And the facts are, that it would be unethical for me to remain in a position of authority over you. In any case… if you feel the need to report me to the school administration, for… harassment or inappropriate behavior or anything else, I won’t dispute any claims. I promise to distance myself from you and give you space so you can continue with your education without interference, in a safe environment.”

I grunt, “I’m not going to report you, because you didn’t do anything wrong. Sure, I thought you were a baker… I mean your story about your name, and that little loaf of bread embroidered into your shirt, I thought it was your uniform,” I shrug one shoulder. 

“Sorry about that… I never meant to mislead you,” he says bashful. 

I ignore him, “Either way, I was the one pulling you into that bathroom. I threw myself at you. I begged you to do things to me, and you just granted me my wishes…” like a sexy gentleman, “The sex is on me. I’m 26 years old, I’m not some bumbling teenager who hasn’t learned to take responsibility for her actions, so, please… stop trying to shield me, or protect me, or whatever it is you’re doing,” my arms flap around in frustration. I finally push my bag off the chair, and sink into it. “Look, Peeta—“

“Professor…” he corrects, frowning a little.

I roll my eyes, if he knew he’s just making it sound kinkier than it already is, he wouldn’t be so adamant about the freaking titles. 

“Fine… Doctor Mellark,” I enunciate, pettily. “I specifically chose your class as my last English elective for two reasons. One: it’s exactly the amount of credits I need to graduate at the end of the semester. And two: it fits my schedule to a T, which is important, since I do have a full time job when I’m not a college student. So, I’m sure we can both be adults about this unfortunate situation, and simply forge on. There’s no need for you to recuse from teaching this class, and I have absolutely no intention of switching. We both can wear our big people britches, and pretend last night was a… what did you call it?” I wave my hands, as if the answer will materialize from thin air, “A vivid wet dream? And leave it at that!”

Peeta glares at me, looking aggravated for the first time since I met him. “It’ll be unethical to continue like everything is normal, Miss Everdeen.” Peeta argues, stubbornly. 

“Nobody has to know about last night,” I say, exasperated, then a horrifying thought flashes in my mind, “Unless you bragged about it already!”

“No!” He straightens in his chair, looking offended, “I would never do something so vile,” He looks indignant, “plus, the fact still remains that something did happen last night, and I know about it! I can’t, in good faith, be your teacher.”

“Are you planning on showing me favoritism because you know what my pussy tastes like, Peeta?” I deadpan, “Or are you gonna blackmail me into doing it again?” 

“Stop calling me Peeta!” He growls through his teeth, his very thick fingers clenching into fists on his armrests. 

I blink at his reaction owlishly, realizing I’m truly pushing it this time. 

“I’ve always prided myself on keeping my nose clean. Being a decent man and tutor. Never in 17 years of teaching have I slept with a co-ed, let alone a student in my own class.” He breathes deeply, then pins me to my chair, with those arresting blue eyes of his, burning with controlled anger, “I would never extort you or anyone for sexual favors, Katniss. While I don’t really want to lose my tenure or face other disciplinary actions from the school authorities, the one thing I truly don’t want to damage are my personal standards, and my self image.

“Katniss, I’m already biased when it comes to you. Being your professor won’t be exactly fair to anyone. I’m not saying I would give you A’s willy-nilly, nor that I would grade your papers any differently than I’d do your peers or that I’d be less critical of your work,” 

“That’s reassuring,” I roll my eyes. “You’re telling me that if I bring you a shit essay, you might not be persuaded to let me redo it?” 

He sighs, “I don’t know…” he scratches the back of his neck, “I’ll most likely hover over your desk a disproportionate amount of time compared to your classmates. There’s also a chance I’ll call on your name more often than the rest of them?”

“I still don’t hear one unscrupulous, wrong reason, why you can’t do your job, and teach this class.”

We sit there, staring at each other, at an impasse. 

“Why are you so set on keeping me in that room, Miss Everdeen?” He asks, softly. 

Finally, I relent, relaxing my tense shoulders, and exhaling tiredly. I raise my hands in defeat. “I don’t know, Peeta. Because I want to protect you, the same way you’re trying to protect me. But… recuse yourself if you have to. I still believe you’re a better man than your urges.” 

Peeta relaxes in his chair too, “Thank you, Katniss.You didn’t have to say that, specially because you don’t know me. It still means a lot.”

I chew the inside of my lip, calculating stuff in my head. “You’re right, I don’t know you, but I consider myself an okay judge of character.” He opened this door, it’s time for me to walk through it, “Can I ask you some stuff?” I ask innocently.

Peeta arches his eyebrows. “Shoot,” he says. 

“How old are you?” 

“45. I’m sorry. I knew you were young last night… I just didn’t quite grasp just how young,” his eyes shift downwards, sheepish and uncomfortable. 

“I’m an adult. I’ve been the head of my family for years. At this point, age is irrelevant for me.” I state, dismissively.

“What about your family?” He asks, tilting his head sideways.

It takes me a minute to answer. I cross my arms over my stomach, and exhale, “It’s been only Primrose and I for five years now. My mother had cancer. My father passed when I was eleven.” I rock in my chair, slightly, “That’s why my sister was being such a clingy bitch last night. She can’t bear to lose anyone else. Neither can I for that matter.”

Peeta leans forward on his desk. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Katniss.”

I sit back, feeling like a huge weight just got lifted off my shoulders. “It’s okay, really. I’m back in school, about to finish my last semester, Prim is doing great in university, the only debt we have right now is Prim’s car and my Target card… we are actually okay,” I smile, meekly at him. 

“That’s… that’s good, Katniss. Admirable, really.”

“Peeta?” I start cautiously, “Would you really remove yourself from the class because of me?” 

He looks me right in the eye, sincerity emanating fro his eyes. “Absolutely. Without hesitation. As soon as you leave, I’ll email my Head of Department, explaining my situation. Don’t worry, I won’t mention any names or details—“

I shake my head, vehemently. 

Peeta squints, studying me cautiously, measuring me. 

“Please… stay with me…” 

Something in my tone catches his attention, and he eyes me curiously. “I’ve already told you why I can’t,” he says, almost soothingly. 

I stand up. Go around my chair, and drop back down into it. I start shaking my leg nervously. “I had this feeling in my gut since last night. Like I lost something precious, I just couldn’t put a finger on it… I still can’t, to be honest. All I know, in my loins, is that I can’t let you step down from your position, and I sure as hell won’t walk away on you without figuring out what this…” I wiggle my fingers, pointing to the mouth of my stomach, “feeling is about.”

He stares at me. 

I stand up again, and this time I just pace, to the wall with the pictures, and stare at a bunch of faces, too similar to Peeta’s not to be related to him somehow. 

“I know I’m not making sense, but I just needed to say that.”

He watches me for a long beat, weighing his options no doubt, before answering, “I can’t be your teacher, Katniss…” he sighs, and rubs his forehead, “because I’m afraid seeing you every week, without being able to touch you will be absolute torture.”

“Really?” I bite my lip, giving him an open once over, not feeling one iota self conscious about. “How come?” 

Peeta huffs, avoiding my eyes. “I’d be wondering what your breasts look like the whole time.” He confesses, flatly. “I didn’t get a chance to see them last night, and it kept me awake an indecent amount of time.” He twists his lips, “I’m gonna be pinning the whole semester, whether you’re in the classroom or not, craving the taste of your juices in my tongue, and worse of all, I’ll probably embarrass myself, giving me involuntary hard on’s just fantasizing about you.”

I practically prowl towards him. “You poor thing,” I coo, pouting. “Would you go home to masturbate on the soiled pair of panties I left behind on that dirty, bathroom floor?” I ask… more like, purr, really. 

Peeta chuffs out an incredulous laugh, covering his face with both hands. He grunts, “Aw, fuck! That sounds so… it’s probably exactly what could happen. I’d try to stay professional in the classroom, but in the privacy of my home…” he chuckles weakly, shaking his head.

“What kind of fantasies are we entertaining here?” I ask, invested, and sit on the corner of his desk. 

Peeta thins out his mouth, “Katniss… that’s a slippery slope you’re trying to climb,” he warns.

“Humor me?” I cajole. 

He takes a stuttering breath. “I’ll bring you into this office, same way I did today, except I’ll rip your clothes off, throw you on the desk and take you hard and fast. From behind.” 

I can’t stop a small sound at the back of my throat, nor the need to rub my thighs together. 

I clear my throat, “I expect you’d want to fuck me on every surface in this office?”

Peeta pulls on the collar of his shirt, his face turning crimson, “And probably the lecture hall as well,” he adds conversationally. 

I nod, scooting closer to where he sits. “I’m curious too you know. I didn’t get to see ‘any’ part of you naked. But my muscles still are deliciously sore from last night. A girl has to wonder… just how big a dick has to be to cause so much wreckage?” 

It doesn’t take much effort at all to work him up. Peeta’s pants are tented in what looks like the most uncomfortable erection ever; he shifts in his chair to try and hide the effect my words have on him, yet, his hands remain folded on his lap, white knuckled with the effort of keeping himself in check. He’s really committed not to touch me while I’m still his student, but he rasps a question, full of concern. 

“Did I hurt you?” His eyes search me, earnestly. “I’m sorry I was too rough, really,”

My heart gives a little somersault. “No, Peeta. You were pure perfection. I loved how you handled me.”

His lips twitch, and I’m amazed at how expressive his face is, even partially hidden under his near facial hair. “You said you were hungry last night before you got on your knees…” I murmur, “I think, next time I’ll return the favor,”

“Next time?”

I slide closer to him, but we both keep our hands to ourselves.

I lick my lips, resisting the urge to drop on my knees between his legs and gobble up his cock. I didn’t lie about wanting to see him in all his naked glory, but I can show the same level of restraint he does; I respect him for trying to keep a moral and ethical compass.

I smirk at him, slyly. “Are you sure you wanna abandon your post as my professor, now that my education is on the balance? We can wait a handful of months, Doctor Mellark… I promise not to tease you,” With that, I mean, I promise not to aggravate what could potentially be the worst case of blue balls in the history of slow burns.

Peeta hisses a mirthless chuckle, “You’re too much of a temptation, even if you don’t actively try teasing me, Katniss,”

I start playing with the end of my braided, dark hair. “You know what I’m most really looking forward to, from when I’m no longer your student?” I pose, shyly, “Going to that dinner you mentioned last night.” I shrug one shoulder. “I’ll let you buy me a stack of pancakes to celebrate my graduation. I’ll probably introduce you to my sister, Primrose… and we’d go from there… if you wanted to…”

Peeta smiles, disarmingly. “I’d love that too, Miss Everdeen.” He says quietly.

I let go of my braid, and hug myself, “Stay in the class?” I practically beg one last time. “We can do it, I know we can. We can have a platonic, completely innocent teacher-student relationship until I’m done with college,”

Peeta shakes his head. “We’ll see after I talk to my head of department. Who knows, maybe all the schedules are already locked in place, and I have no other choice but to stay put. There’s no guarantee a replacement is available for me.”

“We’ll make it work!” I say enthusiastically. 

“Maybe…” he sighs, not entirely convinced. 

I pull my phone out of my pocket to check the time. Time is running out, I gotta get to the pharmacy before my window of opportunity closes. 

“Hey, Peeta… um, invasive, weird question?” 

I wait for him to nod.

“Have you by any chance, have gotten a vasectomy at any point?” 

“Mmm no, never had. Why?”

Aw shit! 

I bite the inside of my cheek. “Hopefully no reason.” I say quickly, too nonchalant for my own good, and he catches on it, I can see the gears turning in his brain, “Okay,” I make a big show of yawning and stretching my arms, “I have to run some errands before going home and crashing for the night.”

Peeta cringes, “Are you… okay? Really, okay? You said you were sore?” His eyes rove over my face full of concern. 

“I’m fine,” I smile, “nothing a long soaking in Epsom salts can’t cure.”

“Okay,” he says, unsure. “I don’t want to overstep any worse than I already have, but… I’ve been anxious, wondering if you were alright, if you got home fine to your sister since you left the club. Which, obviously you did… but, I wanted to kick myself for not asking your number, just to be able to check on you… and this is frown upon, a d completely unethical, but—“

“I’ll email you,” I say quickly. “Nothing explicit. But I’ll let you know I’m home and okay.” I’ve spoken to people in code before, this shouldn’t be a problem, and really, sending my professor an email with a time stamp and some innocuous question about the syllabus doesn’t have to be nefarious at all. 

“Alright… Just let me know if there’s anything wrong, okay? I swear this won’t become a routine thing or anything, just this time, to give me peace of mind, and because it is late… and well, yesterday…”

“It’s fine, professor. I don’t mind. And… everything will work out,” I say shouldering my bag and pocketing my phone, “everything will work out, even if my Plan B doesn’t,” I smile and scurry out the door, before the puzzlement in his face has time to settle. 

After all, a semester is only 15 weeks long, give or take… that’s plenty of time to figure things out. 

[dreaminae]

We All Need The One Friend

Chapter 15

Sure, distance makes the heart grow fonder, but it also drives the brain aloof. Or so, that was Liv's take on her current situation. Almost four weeks went by since the big family dinner blowout where Billy and Jordan learned of Liv's drinking. Four weeks since her father's overwhelming disappointment swallowed Olivia whole with a growing fear of being sent away for help once more. Four weeks since her fear led to Liv, running away for help from the one person who she hadn't been in contact with for months -- her sponsor. And four weeks since Liv was giving a large wake-up call when she found her former sponsor behind bars for attempting to steal from her very own parents.

That night Olivia saw what could be her possible future if she didn't receive proper treatment while she still had the chance. Despite her fear of being sent away, she returned home after hours of dodging calls and texts from her loved ones. She walked into her home ready to accept the help, no matter the consequences. And perhaps that why fate played into her hands.

Fore when Olivia returned home, she found both her parents welcomed her with open arms, simply content that she was alright. Following the long night, Liv was surprised to find her family already with a suitable compromise. Instead of shipping her away, Billy and Laura decided upon an intensive program that allowed Liv to remain at home while she recovered.

Later into that evening, Spencer dropped by for what they both knew would be their last moment together for a long term. Acknowledging that they both had things to work on, they agreed to delay their romance until they were both in a good place to be together for real. They weren't breaking up or taking back the feelings they once declared. No, they were -- as Liv put it that night -- 'playing the long game'. Sealing their goodbye with a heartfelt kiss, they parted ways.

Focused on her recovery, Olivia found a new sponsor and confidant in Nurse Joy. Admitting her dependency upon Alcohol, and accepting responsibility for falling off the wagon, Olivia began her road to recovery. Meanwhile, Spencer centered his time on football and plotting his plan to bring Crenshaw a state championship.

Ignoring their constant desire to be together they cut off all physical communication, choosing to stick to the everyday messages to check in on one another. It wasn't until the night of Jordan's second concussion they were able to be in each other's arms.

Utilizing each other as helping shoulder through damaging announcement of Jordan's future in football, they found comfort in their buried affections. Having each other's back when Simone dropped the marriage reveal, Spencer and Liv supported each other when confronted by Billy and Laura.

The secret marriage only adding to Liv's troubled life as Laura grounded her into the next century for her deceit. Life toppled their trivial matter with the death of Tamika, shaking Olivia's inner social justice warrior to its full-frontal.

From leaking footage of Tamika's wrongful death to protesting for the indictment of the guilty officers, Liv found something bigger to be a part of. Her best intentions leading to backfire as Laura took the heat of alleged bigoted D.A. Learning to accept her mistakes, Liv tried to make the best of a complicated issue.

She and Kia's devotion to cause, sparking Spencer to follow suit, persuading his team to take a knee during their most important game. Inspiring by the Crenshaw team their opponents took a knee in protest. As a result of more football teams following Crenshaw's players in taking a knee, Crenshaw was granted another shot at the state championship.

Everything seemed to play into Liv and Spencer's hands, except the main thing they both desired since summer. It was all in a matter of timing, and they both couldn't help but anticipate when that moment would finally arrive.

So when they found themselves planning a surprise party in honor of Spencer's mom earning her college degree, the anticipation rose to a new peak.

"So no gouging out my eyes?" Liv playfully joked, allowing herself to make a joke of the foolish comments people were making about her online.

Spencer scoffed as if insulted. "What, those pretty eyes? You crazy." His eyes drifted from the direction of her eyes to her lips.

Olivia smiled softly as he quickly shifted back to their original conversation, unsure if now was the right time for them to share that type of moment. "You gon' help me fix this came or what?" He questioned with a crooked grin.

"Yes," Liv replied with a cheeky grin as she hopped from her seat, wondering how long he'd wait to make a move.

The next hour and a half flew by with them baking the cake while making basic small talk to catch up with one another. They discussed Liv's daily meeting with nurse joy and how her recovery was coming. Liv caught Spencer up on Jordan's everyday hobbies since his time away from football, while Spencer tried his best not to admit to Liv that he was aiding in Jordan's desire to return to football. Their topics switched until they circled back to Spencer's upcoming game against Westlake, and how Olivia punishment lifted just in time for her to come see him play.

"You'll be my personal cheering section." Spencer goofed as he iced the bare cake.

"Of course. I'll be decked in your jersey number and sporting Crenshaw colors all night." Liv giggled, imaging herself ornamented in Spencer James merchandising. "I'll be shouting the loudest. Go, Spencer! Kick some Westlake ass!" She shouted cheerfully, causing Spencer to chuckle.

"And what about I finish kicking Westlake's ass?" He wondered aloud. "Do I get a prize?" He inquired with a lifted brow.

"You'll have won the state championship for Crenshaw and saved your school. What more could I give you?" Liv snickered, sipping her lemonade.

"I can think of a few things." Spencer flirted causing Liv's cheeks to redden as she swallowed her refreshment.

The knocking of the front door interrupted their flustered juncture. "I'm should...um..you know..."

"Don't worry, I will still be here when you get back." He chuckled towards her rattled nature.

He frosted the cake as Liv dealt with a package delivery on behalf of the coach baker. Shortly after leaving the package in the living room, she rrutrned. Her reserved nature now contained after she took a moment to compose herself.

She returned to the kitchen with more pep in her step resolved with knowing that the moment she and Spencer both delayed was finally arriving, and all she had to do was lead it.

Eyeing Spencer with a twinkle in her eye she cheekily leaned over close to his direction, dipping her finger in the canned frosting. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" She inquired sassily, catching his attention as she strutted a few feet around the counter.

"Girl, you know I got skills." He responded cockily, earning a snicker from Liv as she shut the refrigerator to from putting leftover baking ingredients.

"Hey, I was thinking that we should have that graduation won't playing at my mom's party," Spencer suggested, humming his ideal tune aloud.

Olivia listened to the tune with a puzzled expression. "Umm, that's the wedding song."

Spencer eyed her strangely, confused as to how he got the two melodies muddled.

Giving him a sympathetic grin, Liv rubbed his arm, comforting him. "Hmm, you'll get it." She laughed as Spencer twisted his face in slight embarrassment. "It's okay." She added jokingly.

Rolling his eyes, Spencer gestured down to the finished cake. "Well, what do you think?"

Liv analyzed the frosted cake, impressed by how well it came out. "It's good." She complimented with growing suspicion. "Like really good." She added, smirking at Spencer. "You've done this before, haven't you?"

"Maybe like once for my moms birthday..." He dragged out, sensing that his cover was blown as he smiled crookedly. "And maybe all of Dillion's birthdays." He admitted, redhandedly causing Olivia to laugh.

"Alright, you caught me." Spencer chuckled, then grew serious. "N'all but, I just wanted to get your mind off everything." He confessed wholeheartedly, hating the low amounts of times he witnessed a real smile from Liv over the last few weeks.

"You did," Olivia assured him, touched that Spencer went found the energy to help her through the day's mess, even though she was meant to be helping him today. "You made me feel a lot better." She added, wanting him to know that his intentions were highly effective.

Spencer simply nodded, content to help in any way he could.

Liv smiled thinking back to how their last few hours together reminded her of the summer they spent together. No matter if it dumb shows or extended time at the mall shopping, Spencer remained glue to her hip just to make Liv happy. If he noticed she was having a bad day, he'd make a stupid joke to make her laugh. When she felt alone and needed someone to talk to, Spencer spent hours on the phone with her. When she felt like crumbling, he was always the rock that steadily held her up.

"You've done that before too." Olivia slipped out, letting her affection take over. Her eyes darted to his with a knowing twinkle.

Spencer observed her stature, finding Olivia in control and sure of herself. She beamed gently with a slight tilt of her head as if waiting to see what he would do next. She wanted to know if he still wanted her, and this was her way of conveying her yearning for him. With an assured confirmation that she was ready, Spencer took this as his cue.

Without saying another word he walked towards Liv, ready to give in to their passions. His head tilted in the opposing direction of Liv's as they both leaned in to close the small space between them.

However, right when their lips were about to meet Spencer's phone buzzed. Spencer grunted under his breath, annoyed by the bad timing, but reached for his phone nonetheless. Liv sucked in a tight breath, frustrated by another halted moment.

Remaining with barely an inch separating them, Liv took matters into her own hands. Literally.

"Spence," Liv mumbled, topping the hand that held his phone with the palm of her hand to gain his attention. His phone continued to buzz, as Spencer gave Olivia his awareness. "Yeah."

"It'll still be there afterward." Liv sighed with an unsure smile, gently pulling his phone out of hand. Her finger dragged across the screen, rejecting the call. "But I'm right here. Right now." She remarked, locking eyes with him, lust emitting from her own. "And I don't know about you but I'm tired of waiting." She snickered sassily, earning a smirk from Spencer.

Liv eyes danced from Spencer's brown orbs, falling to his lips, then back to his eyes. Cupping his face, she brought his lips to hers for a kiss that was weeks in the making.

[tinyboxxtink]

Hey so loved your black magic series! I read your post about using REE/Rafael. I’ll read anything you write but this idea to me is RPF and kind of squicks. ☹️ Maybe if you use another character he played? Nevada?! Someone sees “Barba” doing something super bad and they’re all “omg omg” and think it’s Barba? 🤷🏻‍♀️

I hear you, I do. HOWEVER, I made a "Version" of Raul Esparza in this story that is 5 years younger, and...I hate to say it, "more" famous?

IDK I wrote a 'prototype' chapter last night, so I'm gonna put this to you. I assume/hope you're an avid reader and I can gauge the public consensus, but also I want ALL my readers to be happy!!

So here, read this and then tell me if you still find the idea "Squicky".

That goes for anyone else! Maybe I should put my tag list in here....

The way I wrote him though anon, I truly feel in my heart that it's not RPF, because like I said RPF freaks me out as well.

Before you already go in skeptical, let me set up the plot I had planned. {As told to @madamsnape921 in an IM:

the thing was gonna start that someone sees Rafael proposing to the reader, and tells a tabloid that Raul Esparza is engaged to some rando. Because they think that it was him. And then Rafa, the reader and Chloe start to discuss on how either it's a multiverse thing, or a doppelganger thing because it turns out that Rafael and Raúl are very similar, like personality traits and the Broadway dream, except that Raul's childhood was basically the opposite of Rafael's so Chloe THINKS that Raul is Rafael from a "multiverse".

Right and then Raul goes to Rafael's office to confront him and then the reader and Chloe are there to take Rafael out to lunch and they're like holy shit!

And Rafael is super uncomfortable with the idea of the reader EVER being in a show with Raul because obviously they're like the same person and Raul probably has more in common with her

Oh and also Raul is five years younger, and thinner. So then Raul's like you shouldn't listen to him, I could really help you with your career.

Annnnd that's all I have so far.

Okay so read this really and tell me you honest opinion.

Screw it putting the tag list:

Tag List

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

You were walking towards the exit of Central Park hand in hand with your now fiancee, when all of a sudden two giggling girls came running up to you.

“Oh my god!!!!! Raul we didn’t know you had a girlfriend!” One of them started squealing.

“Fiancee,” He corrected. “Wait I’m sorry, what? Did you just call me Raul?”

“Uh...yeah, duh,” One of the girls made a face. “Raul Esparza?”

“What?” You bursted out laughing. “I’m sorry, you think he’s Raul Esparza?”

“Um, we know he is,” The other one crossed her arms.

“Um, no he isn’t!” You wrapped your arm around Rafael protectively, as if the two girls were going to kidnap him or something.

“I can promise you ladies, I am not-- whoever you just said,” Rafael assured them.

“Why are you doing this? Are you trying not to embarrass your lady friend here?” One of the girls made a weird face at you.

“Wha? No--” Rafael tried to defend himself but the girls were already clearly ticked off.

“Wow, I have heard of actors trying to get away from fans but completely pretending to be another person, that’s pretty low Raul,” One of them glared at Rafael.

“Yeah, it wouldn’t have taken you much effort to just take a selfie with us,” The other one added with a scowl.

“I...um--” He looked to you for help, but you just shrugged. You had no idea how to handle such a weird situation.

“I guess we can take one--” He offered.

“Oh no, forget it now,” One girl scoffed.

“Yeah, jerk!” The other one stomped her foot and they both sauntered away angrily.

-----------

“...What the hell was that?” Rafael looked at you in utter confusion and disbelief, you just gave him a “wtf” smile.

“I have no idea baby--”

“Oh my god, are you guys ok?” Chloe suddenly came running up behind you. “What the hell did those teeny boppers want? To rob you with water guns or something?”

“No they-- they wanted a selfie?” Rafael was still confused, trying to figure out what just happened.

“A selfie? With you?” Chloe snorted.

“No-- With Raul Esparza,” You looked at her with a confused smile. It was pretty entertaining to think that your fiance looked like a Broadway star.

“I don’t get it, you said that I didn’t even look like him!” Rafael looked at you.

“I mean I said I didn’t see it, and that you were more handsome,”

“....Yeah well you might wanna rethink that answer babe,” Chloe’s eyes were wide as she handed you her phone. She had googled RAUL ESPARZA, and the images that popped up were-- Rafael’s face.

“Oh my God…” You whispered, showing Rafael the phone. He quickly pulled out his own and started searching for himself. You handed Chloe back her phone and did the same. Pages and pages of articles about Raul Esparza’s shows, and accelaides, and all with Rafael's face plastered all over them.

“He’s….me,” Rafael whispered in horror.

“He looks more like you than you do!” You teased, he looked at you with a very serious face. Clearly he was not ready to joke about this yet.

“Holy shit. This is some multiverse shit,” Chloe muttered as she went through her Google search.

“Excuse me?” You asked her.

“You know, the multiverse theory? There’s an infinite amount of universes in every decision anyone ever makes.”

“Meaning…?” Rafael asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Chloe raised an eyebrow. “Raul could be Rafael, if he hadn’t given up on his Broadway dream,”

“Oh my god,” Rafael started laughing. “Chloe, did you get loaded in the park or something?”

“Oh okay, so you have a better idea, big brain lawyer?” She crossed her arms.

“He might not, but I do,” You piped up, showing her your phone.

“Doppelgangers?” Chloe read with a face.

“Yes, it’s a fact that there are 5 people in the world with the EXACT same face,” You continued reading.

“And he just happens to live in New York, where Rafael lives? AND is on Broadway, the one thing Rafael gave up?”

“Look sure it’s a million to one shot that those events would line up, but what’s more plausible: Doppelganger or ‘Multiverse’?” You looked at Chloe, who looked at Rafael, so you turned to Rafael as well.

“...Wha--are you asking me?” He asked.

“I mean it is your face,” You shrugged. “What do you think, baby?”

“I’m leaning towards a doppelganger, sorry Chloe,” He shrugged as well.

“Yeah well, you’re probably right,” Chloe nodded as she read her own phone, still on Raul Esparza info. “Most likely because he’s five years YOUNGER than you,”

“WHAT?!” Rafael grabbed her phone; as he read it, his face fell. “Oh God, no…”

“Wha--What does it matter how old he is, Rafa?” You furrowed your brows.

“Or the fact that he’s clearly thinner and more attractive,” Chloe added with a smirk.

“CHLOE,” You scolded her. “What the ever loving fuck?”

“Well, I’m just saying-- Look at them side by side,” Chloe had a photo of Rafael from some mayor’s ball next to Raul Esparza at the Tonys, both in tuxedo’s. You wouldn’t admit to Rafael but Raul was definitely thinner, and...he looked a lot younger. It was probably Botox or something you were sure, but still….

“Okay but again WHY does it matter--?” You wanted to change the subject.

“Are you kidding me? Y/N-- This is what you want to do!” He gestured to Chloe’s phone.

“....I don’t want Raul--” You started.

“No, you want to be on Broadway though!! And, and what if someday, God forbid, you end up in a show with this guy? He clearly already has a leg up on me compatibility wise, and as Chloe so kindly pointed out, a leg up on me age and attractiveness wise, and--” Rafael started ranting and rambling, talking lightening fast, as he did when he got upset or excited.

“Whoa whoa whoa whoa, back up there counselor,” You put up a hand to his face. “Are you actually insinuating that if I worked with Raul Esparza, that I would magically fall in love with him?”

“Don’t say it like that,” Rafael was triggered by the mention of magic and love.

“Okay but I’m not even saying ‘magic’ magic, I’m just saying-- What do you think because he’s an actor, and younger than you I’m just going to think I’m better off with him? Just because he has your face?” You gave him a small “oh honey” smile as you placed your hands on either of his face.

“No, but if you have to play his love interest, and you spend every day with him, it might blur the lines--” He started grumbling.

“Rafael, baby--” You shook his head in your hands. “I am still in SCHOOL. I am nowhere NEAR being in a Broadway show as a freaking techie, let alone a love interest starring opposite Raul Esparza,”

“Yeah, I mean this guy is huge-- 3 Tonys, 2 Emmys, an Oscar--” Chloe rattled off, but stopped when she realized you were glaring at her. “What? I’m helping!”

“...See? He’s far too famous for me,” You pressed your forehead to Rafael’s.

“Right, and I’m just the lowly ADA,” He muttered.

“Lowly my ass, Rafa,” You hit him playfully. “You are the most respected ADA in all of New York,”

“I’m the only ADA of New York,” He made a face.

“Not true! Just the city,” You beamed, proud of yourself you did some research once you had gotten together.

“My point is Rafael,” You now put your hands on his collar and pulled yourself into him. “You are all the acclaim I need,” You kissed him softly. “You’re my everything, I mean for fuck’s sake you just held a one man flash mob to propose to me! Let’s Raul Esparza do THAT,” You laughed, hoping to make him feel better. As his scowl melted into a smile, you knew you had succeeded.

“That was pretty romantic wasn’t it?” He beamed, proud of himself.

“It was EPIC,” Chloe chimed in, for good this time.

“Your voice is beautiful by the way,” You had forgotten in the midst of all of the romantic hubbub to compliment him. “I’m really sorry you had to give up Broadway,”

“Yeah, well-- apparently some part of me didn’t,” He gestured to his phone.

“Well he doesn’t have me,” You pointed out.

“He doesn’t know what he’s missing.” Rafael grinned as he pulled you into a deep kiss.

“Now can we please just forget about--” You hesitated, deciding not to mention his name again. “Anything else, and just focus on our engagement night?”

“Well, I suppose--” He nodded as he put an arm around you, and the three of you continued to walk through the park.

-------

Across town in a swanky New York Penthouse, an alert went off on Raul Esparza’s phone. He had it set to notify him any time his name appeared in a headline on the internet. He glanced over and picked it up, reading the notification. As he read it, his eyes widened and his face grew red. He stood up and yelled to no one in particular,

“Who the FUCK is trying to impersonate me?!”

[forevfangirlwrites]

I'm obsessed with the actors au! first date/kiss for that au?

Part 1: Here (Part 2: Here)

The best thing about Percy’s life is that he has managed to score a date with The Annabeth Chase.

The worst thing about Percy’s life is that he has no fucking clue how he’s supposed to pull this off.

She’s a famous actress. So it’s not like he can just take her to Olive Garden and he does not have the budget for something super fancy and oh, did he mention, she’s famous, so going out in public is going to be an issue and—

He calls Grover.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking,” Grover says in utter disbelief over the line.

Percy groans as he plops down on his couch. “I almost wish I was, this is too stressful. I can’t do it, why did I even say anything?”

Luckily, Grover is his best friend and completely used to rambling that’s usually just a tad dramatic.

“You just need to play to your strengths.”

“Did you just quote a sports movie?”

“Do you want my help or not?”

“Yes, please, sorry.” Percy's too desperate. “Continue.”

Grover sighs. “As I was saying, it seems like she just wants to spend some time with you--though I'm still having a hard time believing that you actually scored a date with Annabeth Chase, are you sure it was her?"

"Grover!"

"Sorry, just making sure. Anyway, you should do just that: spend some time with her. And do what you do best.”

“Which is?” he asks, but he thinks he knows the answer. His oven is already on.

“Don’t play dumb, I have no doubt you’re stress baking cookies right now.”

“Okay, okay, but…” he trails off, another thought coming to him. “What if she doesn’t like baked goods?”

“Oh my god Percy, it’s baked goods, who doesn’t like them!”

Grover makes a fair point. (Plus, he’s pretty sure she’s posted stuff on her Instagram that was baked goods.)

So, miraculously, with some help from Grover and the okay from Cali, he manages to pull together something that he hopes is at least halfway decent.

The small, cramped café is already cute, but Percy hopes that by drawing down the blinds and lighting some candles and lamps he’s made it cozier. (He even bought a table cover for one of the two lone tables at the place.)

The bell rings just as he’s finished setting out some plates and his head snaps up as Annabeth Chase, in all her dark jeans and crème blouse glory, walks in. (Seriously, jeans never look that good on anyone and what probably really famous designer thought it was a good idea to have off the shoulder blouses because he might be choking a little right now).

“Hey,” she says softly while he stares.

She laughs and crosses the distance between them to smile sweetly. “Percy?”

“Huh? Yes? Hi, Annabeth, you came, I mean, of course you did, have a seat.” He gets the words out all in one breath and turns towards the counter where he’s laid out some food.

A hand on his arm stops him and forget Jason Grace’s eyes, her touch is electrifying.

“Percy,” she says slowly and he’s afraid he’s fucked things up and the date hasn’t even started. “Does it help to know that I’m nervous too?”

What?

She offers a small smile. “Believe it or not, I don’t normally do this, and I don’t know what’s going through your head but right now, I’m just a girl on a first date, and I’m nervous too. So,” she takes a breath, “let’s just be nervous together, okay?”

He wants to slap himself in the face for being an absolute (insensitive) idiot. But he doesn’t think that would help the situation, so instead he nods.

“Yeah, okay, sorry. Can we start again?”

Annabeth smiles, her first real true smile so far and Percy feels a warmth in his chest. She nods and he thanks every deity in the world

Squaring his shoulders, he turns properly towards her, taking in her appearance with a wide smile, and takes her hand. “You look beautiful,” he says, raising her hand to his lips. “And thanks for, you know...” His brain kinda short circuited when he kissed her hand, but he tries to power through anyway, “joining me tonight.”

She giggles as he pulls out a chair for her. “You look pretty cute too,” she replies with a wink and Percy tries not to have a heart attack.

“You’re cuter,” he argues back, as she slips into her seat. She makes a face and he shoots her a grin as he turns around to get the food.

“I don’t know about that, my view is pretty great,” she calls, and he almost drops the dish of enchiladas he’s made.

He tells his brain to come up with a quick and witty retort. His brain returns an image of Annabeth kissing him that is entirely unhelpful to the situation.

Turning back around with the dish firmly grasped in his hands, all he can manage is making the same face as she did fifteen seconds ago. But at least he doesn’t drop the food. Baby steps.

She laughs and he places the dish in between them, maneuvering around the drinks he’s already set out.

“Clearly you haven’t looked in a mirror,” he retaliates.

Annabeth rolls her eyes and smiles. “How about I call a truce and say that the food looks the best out of all of us. Did you make it?”

 And the nervousness is back as some heat flares up to his cheeks and his hand comes up to rub the back of his neck. “Yeah, sorry if it’s not the best, it’s my first time making them, really and—“

“I’m sure they’re going to be good, now please sit down and have some too, I’m feeling kinda lonely here,” she jokes, but he catches the look behind her eyes. 

He quickly sits down, wiping the palms of his hands on his jeans. Nodding towards the food, he aims for the casual that he had lost the moment he had served the food. “Well? Don't leave me hanging.”

Truthfully, he had already taste tested (he couldn’t serve something bad) and from the little he had, it seemed pretty okay. But that doesn’t stop him from anxiously looking over at her as he serves himself.

Annabeth's eyes widen as she chews and he hopes that's a good sign. “Percy," she says as she finishes up her bite. "This is so good! There’s no way you made them for the first time!”

He blushes again and wonders when he went from being 26 to 16 again. “I had help, my best friend Grover makes it even better.”

“Still. Do you like to cook?” she asks, taking another bite.

“Yeah, but I like to bake even more.”

Seeing her questioning face, he laughs, the tension finally easing from his shoulders. “Yeah, you’ll get to taste some of that later.”

She beams at him. “I can’t wait!”

“What about you? Do you like cooking?”

It’s kind of bizarre to be talking about cooking with Annabeth freaking Chase, but if there’s one thing he’s learned, she’s only human (an amazing, beautiful, talented human in his eyes, but still just human) and he needs to get over himself.

“I wish, I am horrible in the kitchen though.”

“What? No way? You’re telling me the guest star on Cooking with Dionysus can’t actually cook?” He jokes back.

She groans, leaning back in her chair. “Oh my god, that was so nerve wracking. Thankfully, I had a recipe and some help, even if it was snarky help.”

He leans forward. “Is he actually that snarky?”

Annabeth shrugs, her exposed shoulders rising and falling, and he represses a sudden urge to kiss the freckle on her right one. “Hard to tell. I don’t think he hated me though.”

“It must be tough, being around all these famous people, must be a lot of drama.”

She sighs. “Yeah, I mean, it’s a tough industry, but there are some really good ones out there.”

“Like Jason.”

“Like Jason,” she agrees. “I’m glad he told me about this place.” Her eyes wander the room and the nervousness about his choices crops up again.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he blurts, causing her focus to shift back to him.

“Mind what?”

Well now that he’s talked himself into a hole, he has to talk himself out of it. Nervous together, that’s what she had said right?

“That our date is here, I didn’t think being out in public would be the best so I tried to make it as private as possible and this was the only place I could think of that—”

For the second time that night, she cuts him off. “Percy, it’s perfect.” She lays a hand on his across the small table. “You’ve clearly put a lot of thought into this and I really appreciate it, thank you.”

He smiles, the anxiety slowly melting away. “Good, I’m glad, I was just kinda worried about it, you know, and I’m glad that you don’t mind this, so um, thank you,” he ends lamely.

“Don’t worry,” Annabeth assures, squeezing his hand, “I’ll make sure to plan the next one.”

“Next one?” Internally, he’s dying a little, but he has to play it cool you know. So naturally, his voice totally definitely doesn’t crack.

“We’ll see, depends on the baked goods,” she teases back.

He shoots her a conspiratorial smile. “How do you feel about cupcakes?”

As it turns out Annabeth Chase (like most people, as Grover would say) loved the cupcakes and Percy Jackson loved the way the frosting tasted in her mouth when he stole a kiss.

A/N: Thank you for sending a prompt! This AU is the most requested one that I get so I’m glad I was able to write a little first date bit to establish it a little more! I hope you liked it and thanks again!

[k7l4d4]

Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Cross Fic Episode 6 Part 5

Hello all, and welcome back to another exciting rendition of Midnight Striga! Everybody Clap Your Hands!!

Eda grumbled, shifting her weight as she hunkered through the crowds, King prowling along beside her. She despised the Night Market, as it was basically a physical embodiment of justification for Bonehead’s rule; hard to stand up against the person who’s keeping you and your family safe from scummy criminals selling shady and dangerous stuff, even by the standards of the Isles!! She snorted. If only those same people knew that Bonehead’s goons were perfectly aware of the Night Market and could shut it down and round up its proprietors whenever they liked, and kept it around BECAUSE it was a convenient, tangible justification.

“Ugh! This place smells like failure and backstabbing.” King complained, warily scanning the surroundings, a spell prepped and ready to deploy at a moment’s notice.

Eda huffed. “Yeah, but if this ‘Grimm Hammer’ guy has Curse-Suppression potions, I can’t afford to stay away.” And didn’t it burn that she had to deal with scum like this for her health? She liked Morton, he was a good kid, but DAMN if his habit of testing his products, particularly the dangerous ones, on himself wasn’t grating at times like this. At least when he did it before he still had something in stock for her to use until he got back in shape.

King nodded solemnly, by his standards at any rate. He glanced around, idly taking note of the various comers and goers wandering the market, all doing their best to stay at least partially inconspicuous; it was probably pointless, considering just how unique and diverse appearances could get on the Isles, but at least they were putting in the effort. ‘I wonder if this is how Lilith got that curse.’ King wondered, his temper boiling at the thought of Eda’s sister stabbing her in the back like that. Aloud, he said, “You think this guy will try and screw us over?”

Eda laughed bitterly. “Oh absolutely! But,” She added with a feral grin, “If he does, we can always wreck the place.” She and King cheered at the thought of destroying private property.

With a snort, Eda glanced over the directions Mort had given her, comparing it to the shop before her. It wasn’t anything really special, just a stand aiming to draw the eye and lighten suckers’ wallets, but it had the signs of wear and tear you only got from long-term use and dedication. The owner was probably a scumbag, true, but they were a scumbag with pride in their business and property. Raising an eye at King, and getting a raised eyebrow in return, the two headed inside. A tall figure landed onto the ground in a crouch behind them.

Odalia marched down the halls, burying her worry under maternal fury. This was absolutely unacceptable!! She could not believe Amity was acting so disgracefully, cutting her off like that! With a huff, she finally crossed into the room, primed and ready to start shouting, heedless of the damage her outburst would do to her daughter’s social standing, only to blink in numb surprise at the sight of the humans, Amity’s guard notwithstanding, now in the room. “Um, Mittens? What is going on?” She asked as diplomatically as she could.

Amity sighed, and what proceeded was another rapid-fire round of introductions between the group and Odalia. Odalia’s eyes sharpened at several key points, namely that Neon was an heiress, and had been granted guards as a result of her magic, important details. “So,” Odalia drawled, a calculating gleam in her eyes, “You mentioned that you gave predictions, Miss Nostrade?” She stated more than asked; as annoyed as she was at Amity’s antics (and it was definitely annoyance, absolutely nothing more), this was admittedly an opportune moment to gain a better look into Human Magic, particularly in an area of overlap such as Oracle magic and predictions.

“Yeah, it sounds super interesting!” Selena piped up, engaging in the conversation. “I LOVE Oracle Magic, so seeing how Humans do it is like Oracle Magic times two!” She cheered, scooching close.

“Okay, if you really want!” Neon agreed, oblivious to the sudden tensing of her guards. She quickly pulled out a sheet of paper and a cat-themed pen. “I just need your names, date of birth, and your blood type!” She hummed, a blissful grin on her face. Odalia and Selena blinked, but both complied, much to the interest of the others, save Luz who’d seen what was coming in action before. The group reared back, startled at the deep blue aura that surged up around Neon, her normally bright and clear eyes fading and turning glassy, like a doll. Her hand pulled back, a winged thing manifesting around it, intoning “Lovely Ghostwriter.” In a blur, Neon rapidly inscribed a series of poems upon the paper, her hand blurring across the page that they couldn’t make out the actual words she was writing down. Suddenly, her hand stopped, a total of eight stanzas composed before her on two seperate sheets, which she promptly handed over to the correct recipient. “And there you go!” She beamed.

“Wow, what do they say?” Skara asked, powering through the confusion and shock that had come over her at the sight of Neon’s spell.

“No idea!” Neon blithely replied, causing all the Witches to blink in shock, save Odalia and Selena, who were busy going over their poems.

Luz snorted at their surprise. “Yeah, Neon’s magic is totally involuntary after the activation point. She has no clue what she writes, isn’t aware that she was even writing until after the fact, and is physically incapable of reading whatever prediction she gives.” Luz clarified, admittedly relishing the looks of confusion she got in response.

“How does that even work!?” Amity asked, utterly bewildered. It was completely outside any known form of Oracle Magic, and she couldn’t help but notice the blanching faces of her mother and Selena.

Neon gave a pout, trying not to feel insulted at the slight at her skills. “Predictions are for the people, not for the predictor!” She childishly stated, huffing in displeasure.

They turned to Luz, a look screaming for an explanation upon their faces. “Hey, it makes as much sense to me as it does for you all.” She lightly protested. Seeing they weren’t convinced, she ultimately relented, clarifying, “I’m not sure why it turned out like that, but Neon is completely self-taught, but no one has ever said she’s not good at what she does.” She fixed them with a strong stare, almost daring them to question her. “Neon’s predictions always cover the month of when she gives them, offering insight as to what will happen later, with advice being given for dangerous or difficult moments coming up, and clarity as to what led to events that have already happened. And Neon’s predictions are always perfectly accurate to boot.” She sat back, letting that sink in.

Willow was the first to recover. “B-But that goes outside any known example of Oracle Magic!” She stammered, shock coloring her eyes. “Even the best Oracles have some level of failure or inaccuracy!”

Luz shrugged. “I don’t know what to say, but that’s never really applied to Neon.” The girl in question merely beamed in pride at that, puffing out her chest.

“Neon is the greatest! Ohohohohoho!” She cheerfully laughed, pulling one hand to her mouth in a look of haughty delight, only for Luz to playfully chop her on the head. “Ouchie!”

“Please don’t strike my charge again, Miss Noceda.” Kurapika sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, even as his fellow guards just snorted at the by-play between the two mages.

“Yeah, the lassy needs her brain intact, you know?” Basho called out, a cheerful smile on his face. He winced at the swift jab to his rib Baise gave him.

Baise snorted. “Maybe don’t insult our boss, idiot.” She drolly stated, arms crossed.

“I’ve honestly been wondering, but if you guys are guards for a mage, are you mages yourselves?” Gus asked, tone casual, if you discounted the notebook primed for writing held before him that is.

“Well, as a matter of fact, we are.” Kurapika cordially replied, showing the chains affixed to his hand, small steel rings linking a separate chain to each finger. “I myself employ Chain Magic, allowing me to manipulate and command my chains for a variety of effects.” He gave a mysterious grin. “Though, some of my best spells are unfortunately kept rather limited.”

“Huh, why is that?” Gus asked, furiously scrawling down the enigmatic blonde’s answer.

“Well, I won’t go into the specifics, but it is possible to augment one’s spells, particularly complex or unusual ones, by infusing them with limitations as to how and when you can use them, or giving them conditions as to when they can be activated.” Kurapika explained. “A solid example would be, say, creating a spell that would allow you to defeat a specific foe, and then altering the spell so it literally cannot be used on anyone but that foe. Doing so would make that spell all the more powerful and flexible to use, but only when it’s conditions are fulfilled.”

The Witches paused, staring in shock at Kurapika, whereas his fellow guards and Luz just looked at him in amusement. Luz shrugged. “He’s not wrong, but most mages don’t usually do that, unless their magic works best under specific circumstances to start with. It’s usually something found in more exotic forms of magic, or with people who are self-trained.” All the Witches carefully took note of that for later.

Willow cleared her throat. “And what about the rest of you?” She asked politely.

Tolico puffed out his chest, grinning. “Well my magic is almost ideal for bodyguard duties, and just for messing with people. Observe!” He cried, swinging his arm up, before clapping it against the ground. “Thankless Soldiers!” From the point of contact, a dark purple aura billowed up off the floor, flexing and morphing into the image of 12 dark figures in robes, standing at attention. “Now, you guys go outside and patrol the area, we don’t want any intruders, alright?” He stated, and the constructs moved out, silently and without issue.

“Wow! You can create soldiers to fight for you!?” Gus exclaimed, stars in his eyes.

“Yeah, but they’re fragile to any trained mage, can’t move very fast, and their only solid advantage is numbers.” Baise said, instantly taking the wind out of Tolico’s sails. Baise smirked at the pouting glare Tolico shot her. “As for myself… my magic isn’t something kiddies like you should learn about until you’re older.” She stated, the aimless leer on her face sending nervous shivers down the group’s collective spine.

“HA! My Haiku Magic allows me to compose poetry, and gain effects based on those poems by sacrificing them!” Basho proudly stated, crushing a tablet of paper in his fist, causing it to erupt in flames, to the awe of the crowd.

“My magic isn’t really anything special,” Squala stated bashfully, rubbing his head. “I can manipulate and command dogs, but not a whole lot else.”

“And I can create effects by playing my flute.” Melody added in a soft tone. The Witches pondered that briefly, but accepted it, not every form of magic was going to be out there and radically different from what they knew.

“W-What is this!?” Odalia whispered, drawing the group’s attention to her and Selena, who were both shuddering over the predictions Neon had given them. She whipped around, wild eyes staring at Neon, who cocked her head in confusion. She marched over, oblivious to the stares her actions were garnering from the group, and the level glares of Neon’s bodyguards, all prepped to intercept her. “Are you certain this is accurate!?” She demanded, almost rabid fear in her eyes, waving her prediction in emphasis.

“Hmm?” Neon made a questioning noise, uncomprehending? “What do you mean? Neon’s predictions are always right!” She huffed, confused and annoyed at the idea of her predictions being wrong. Didn’t this old lady know anything!? Whatever was written would happen, completely true! Silly old lady! ...Why was she still getting closer?

With a scowl, Odalia drew level with the childish girl, her temper and fear mixing into a recklessness-inducing cocktail. “Now listen here!” Odalia hissed, reaching out towards the girl, oblivious to the mounting anger of her guards, as well as the fear flickering in Neon’s eyes. “Do you have any idea-”

“Miss Blight.” Luz called out sharply, drawing the woman’s attention. Glancing around, she blanched at the scene; her daughter’s guests were staring at her in a mix of fear and disgust, while Amity and the Park girl were glaring at her in a mixture of disappointment and rage. Her daughter’s guard, the human girl, Luz, was watching her with a carefully blank face, idly flipping a glowing knife in between her hands. The Neon girl’s guards were preparing to attack her, she noted with dread, and when she turned her gaze back to Neon, she finally noticed the way she was trembling, along with the faint tears in her eyes. Flushing, Odalia quickly pulled away. “Oh my dear, I am so sorry, child! I-I have no idea what came over me-” Odalia hastily explained, twitching slightly.

“Save it.” Luz said flatly, subtly moving in between Neon and Odalia, and also between Odalia and Neon’s guards. “Don’t worry, people have reacted a lot worse to Neon’s predictions in the past, they just usually aren’t in the same room as her when they do so. I would recommend heading back to your husband for the night.” She ‘suggested,’ idly cocking her head to the still upset group surrounding them.

Odalia flushed, but didn’t argue. “I believe you are correct in that respect.” She gave a shaky bow. “I bid you all a good evening, and I hope the Conjuring goes well.” And with that, Odalia beat a hasty retreat, mind swirling over what to tell Alador.

Skara cleared her throat, wanting to dispel the tension in the air. “Well then! Unless I’m wrong, the Moon should be in position for the conjuring to start!” She said, forcing a note of cheer into her voice. The Witches grumbled, still tense after Odalia’s little scene, but no one argued, wanting to move on from the uncomfortable moment. Amity sent a worried glance towards Neon, who quickly waved it off after noticing the attention.

“Oh, go have fun! I’m fine!” She said, a shaky grin on her face. With a scowl, Amity relented, heading over to the others. Amity, Cat, Amelia, and Selena formed a circle of four, while Gus, Willow, Bo, and Skara formed another, each surrounding one of Amity’s old dolls. As they started chanting, the guards, Neon, and Luz watched on.

Kurapika turned an inquiring gaze towards Luz. “Do you know what’s going on?” He asked, a note of genuine curiosity in his voice.

Luz snorted. “Apparently, this is supposed to be a Lunar Ritual that animates an object through the magical power of the Moon.” She explained flatly, her blank face showing how good of an idea she considered that.

Tolico stared, his dumbfounded expression mirrored by his fellow guards. “Are… they insane?” He croaked out, even as Neon cocked her head, not understanding.

“From what I’ve seen, the Isles has a very loose understanding of safety and wellbeing, beyond healthcare.” Luz replied, staring off into the distance. She leaned up against the wall. “Plus, from what I can tell, the Ritual is pretty minor stuff, and some cultural drift has more or less shot it in the foot.”

Kurapika raised an eyebrow, perplexed. “Hmm? What do you mean by that?” He asked.

Luz jerked a thumb at the ceiling, a smirk on her face. “The Ritual works by calling the power of the moon into the target through its Light, or at least that’s my understanding of how it works.” She gestured around. “Kind of hard to draw light into a target when all but a fraction of it ends up colliding with a building first.” Her smirk shifted into a thoughtful expression. “Although, it would probably be a different story if the house was possessed or merged with an animate existence; then the spell would probably just use the house itself as the target instead.”

Kurapika gave a wry grin. “I imagine you won’t be telling them until after they fail, correct?” He asked rhetorically, Luz’s mischievous laugh being all the confirmation he needed.

Luz, growing serious, sidled up next to Neon. “Hey, NeNe, you feeling okay?” She asked softly.

“Huh? Of course I am, LuLu!! She just got a little m-mad is all.” Neon said in what she must’ve thought was a reassuring tone of voice, a few alarms starting to go off in the heads of her guards.

Luz arched an eyebrow. “Oh? But you flinched when she reached for you.” She said, slowly sliding closer.

“T-That’s because I’m not used to people t-trying to hurt me ‘cause of my predictions!” Neon blustered, eyes shifting back and forth.

Luz eyes glistened. “Neon, show me your arm.” She said softly.

“Nono! I don’t wanna!” She cried, yanking away from Luz. Her guards glanced between themselves. Technically, they were required to do something, but if their and Luz’s suspicions were correct…

“NeNe, please. I can’t help if you don’t let me.” Luz said in as kind but as firm a voice as she could manage, gently trying to coax Neon close, worried she might scare her.

Hesitantly, fearful tears in her eyes, Neon allowed Luz to creep closer, and slowly pull back her sleeve. Luz did her best to keep from hissing at the sight. Neon’s arm was coated in bruises, blotchy and smeared, running the length of it, with a few looking as if they were cuts! Luz had a sinking feeling that Neon had many, MANY more all across her body. The tears flowing now, Luz glanced up to Neon’s sorrow-filled face, the image of burning rage branded across her guards’ faces in the background. “How long has this been going on?” She said softly, trying to keep Neon calm.

“S-Since *Hic!* m-my-y 11th birthday.” Neon confused, hiccups breaking up her words as tears started spilling out. “I-I d-don’t know-w w-why he *Hic!* keeps getting m-m-mad! I try to b-be a g-good-d girl, b-but he k-keeps getting angry!” Neon cried, her tears staining hers and Luz’s shirts. “I-I just want P-papa to be happy, but I can’t! A-and he gets mad, and hurts me… is something wrong with me?” She asked, almost begged, as snot started bubbling up from her nose, her face covered in red blotches of tears.

“No.” Luz stated firmly, tightly pulling Neon into a fierce hug, pressing the sweet girl’s face into the crook of her neck, uncaring of the snot and tears that would end up staining the outfit. It didn’t matter nearly as much as the hurt girl in her arms. “You did NOTHING wrong. He’s your father, the man who’s supposed to raise you, to protect you, and he betrayed that. He’s the one with something wrong with him. Not you… never you.” With that, what little self-control Neon had kept vanished, and she pulled fully into Luz’s embrace, tears surging as she silently wailed into her friend’s clothing.

‘She feels… like Mama’s hugs.’ Neon thought to herself.

‘She feels… so fragile.’ Luz wondered at the feeling of the delicate girl clinging to her, previously in joy… but this time in sadness and heartbreak. Luz’s thoughts shifted into rage. ‘If I EVER see her bastard father again… he’s not walking away.’

As Neon cried, Luz turned to her guards, mindful of supporting Neon’s weight while she did so. “So… what’s the plan?” She asked, fully prepared to rip the group apart if they were even considering bringing Neon back to that man.

The guards exchanged glances, before nodding in unison. Kurapika stepped forward. “We are not letting Mr. Nostrade getting his hands back on Miss Neon.” He said gravely, his voice brooking no argument. “We all accepted this job knowing it would bring us into contact with unsavory individuals, and that we may end up being required to do rather horrible things. But we all have lines we will never cross; enabling an abuser is one of them.” He stated, the other guards nodding in agreement behind him.

“The fact that our contract states that we’re supposed to be protecting the lassy from anything wanting to harm her just adds extra incentive.” Basho said, giving a humorless laugh. “We never expected that meant keeping her safe from her own father!” His grin shifted, showing all teeth. “We let the little miss down, ignoring the signs. If that piece of trash even comes near her, he dies.”

“Good.” Luz said flatly, turning a tender look towards Neon, who peaked her head up. “Hey, NeNe? You mind answering a question?”

“Okay.” Neon said timidly, cuddling up against Luz’s side. “What do you want to know?”

“Well, why did you come to the Isles?” Luz broached.

“Because… I didn’t want Papa to find me. I wanted to go somewhere he could never take me back.” Neon said softly, glancing away. “I wanna live like a normal girl. I wanna have friends.” Tears started pricking her eyes again. “I want to wake up, and see sunshine.”

Luz gave a heartbroken smile, clutching the girl tighter. “Don’t worry, you will.” She pulled Neon tight again. “I swear it.” She whispered to herself.

[yikesharringrove]

I love your trans Stevie au so much! I was wondering were Stevie and billy already together when she came out or did they get together after?

I’m gonna write the big fic I have planned for mtf stevie, so I decided to explore something different than what my plan is for that one

modern

Under the cut for some very brief transphobia and a mention of self harm/vague intonations of suicide, Billy talks about his dad (nothing is graphic, but still thought I’d warn)

-

Billy figured he would be the talk of the damn town he stomped out the Camaro and into the school like he owned the place.

He thought everyone would stare at the vintage muscle car, thought girls would whisper behind their hands as he walked down the hall.

And as he looked across the parking lot, he got a taste of what he wanted, saw a few curious glances to his California plates.

But then a sleek black BMW pulled into the space next to his, a beautiful brunette girl getting out of the driver’s seat.

It was like a hush fell over the lot.

Everyone stared at her as she walked into the school, head held high, shoulders back.

Billy followed her into the school, watching her closely.

Her hands trembled as she opened her locker, carefully placing textbooks inside.

He wanted to know what her deal was.

He leaned against her locker.

“You new here, too?” She looked over at him, smiling weakly.

“In a way.” He held out his hand.

“Billy Hargrove.”

“Stevie Harrington.” He took her hand in his, made sure to smirk just so.

“You think you could help me find my first period? I just moved here, and didn’t manage to get a tour before the first day.” She flushed a little.

“Um, can I see your schedule?” She scanned over it.

“Oh man, you’ve got Andrews for English. She was a nightmare. I had her two years ago.” Billy furrowed his brows.

“I thought you were new-”

“Harrington’s a fucking tranny!” Stevie’s reaction was immediate.

The second the shout came from down the hall, she slammed her locker shut, shoving Billy’s schedule at him.

“Have a good first day.” She practically ran down the hall.

Billy looked back at the group of rowdy guys, all laughing as Stevie darted down the hall.

“Hey! What the fuck?” Billy stomped up to them, shoving the one that yelled against the lockers. “Don’t fucking say that!”

“Dude, that’s fucking Alex Harrington. He like, disappeared last year. He’s a fucking tra-”

Billy didn’t let him finish the sentence.

Punched him square in the nose.

“Don’t ever fucking using that word. You’re fucking disgusting.” He glared at each of the guys in turn. “If I fucking see, or hear, or get any kinda wind of y’all fucking with her, I’m gonna break all ‘a your noses.”

He smirked as they fucking cowered.

Yeah. Bow to your new fucking King.

-

He found Stevie back at her locker a few minutes into the lunch period.

He leaned on the lockers next to hers again.

“This place fucking sucks.” She gave him an odd look. “Apparently y’all have to eat in the cafeteria. At my old school, I used to eat out on the football field.”

“Yeah, we don’t really have a football field.” She closed her locker quietly. She was fidgeting with her hands.

“You don’t got a lucnh?”

“I, uh, I usually buy it. But I don’t really wanna, wanna face everyone in there.” Her voice was small, and she was avoiding eye contact.

“I could bring you something. Or stand in line with you, or something.” She looked up at him, biting the inside of her cheek.

“Is this a joke?”

“No?”

“Or like, like a prank?”

“No. I’m really offering.” He tried to keep his face open, wanted her to trust him.

“Um, I guess it would be okay if you stood with me.” They set off down the hall. “But you don’t have to sit with me, or anything.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” She huffed a laugh.

“Did you hear what Tommy yelled this morning?”

“Yeah, I did. Punched him out for it.” Stevie stopped in her tracks, whirling around to look incredulously at Billy.

“You what?”

“He shouldn’t’ve said that.”

“Billy, he wasn’t lying-”

“That’s not what I meant. He shouldn’t have used that specific word, and he shouldn’t’ve fucking outed you. It’s your choice if you want to be out or not.” Her eyes were even fucking bigger than usual as she looked at him.

“I mean, I don’t really have a choice in a town this size. Especially because, because everyone knew me before.”

“Still, it was fucked up. And that wasn’t okay.” They began walking again.

“Um, thank you, Billy. I was wondering who busted Tommy’s face. He’s gotta big mouth. Gets punched a lot.” Billy laughed, and was delighted to see Stevie give him a little half smile. 

The smile was gone when they reached the cafeteria.

But Billy stayed in line next to Stevie. She insisted on buying him a cookie, but he split it in half when they found a table in the back corner of the cafeteria, nudging part of it over to her.

She was tense all through lunch, waiting for something to happen.

Billy reached across the table, taking her hand.

“You’re really brave. You know that, right?” She bit her lip.

“I’m so fucking scared.”

“I know you are. And honestly, it makes sense you’re scared. But I’m here for you, and if anyone gets fresh, they can fucking catch these hands.” She laughed softly.

“Thank you. I really don’t think I could’ve made it today without you.” She took a shaky breath. “You know, I came out to my parents a few years ago. They were, it was bad. And I had to, you know stay in the closet. And at the end of last year, in like, Novemner I, I went through some stuff, and I just, I snapped. I tried to hurt myself. And I think it really opened my mom’s eyes that, that I wasn’t faking. So she talked my dad into letting me transition.” She was playing with her napkin.

“Thank you for telling me.” Billy squeezed her hand. “We moved here because my dad got arrested. And he wanted to come start fresh.”

“Do you, can I ask why he got arrested?”

“He broke my collarbone. Pushed me down the porch stairs. Our neighbors saw.”

“Billy, oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I mean, it’s not really, but I just wanted you to know. I get the shitty parent thing.” She smiled at him.

“Would you, would you want to come over? After school?” Her cheeks were a little flushed.

“I’d love to.”

-

Stevie had neglected to tell him that she lived in a fucking mansion.

Billy stared at it as he parked behind her.

“When the fuck were you gonna tell me you were loaded?” She blushed.

“Um, I kinda forget you’re not from here. That you don’t already know all my business.”

She led him upstairs to her bedroom. It was immaculately clean, but so very plain.

“My mom was real serious about designing our whole house. She’s in the process of redoing my room right now. I mean, I didn’t really mind, but I think she’s trying to make amends, really show me she accepts me.” Billy sat down at her desk as she made a home for herself on the bed.

“That’s pretty cool of her.”

“Yeah. She’s trying. My dad still calls me Alex most days, though.”

“Do you mind if I ask you why you picked Stevie?”

“Um, Stevie Nicks, actually. I just really respect her and I always liked the name.”

“God, my mom loved Fleetwood Mac. She had all their albums on vinyl, and we’d listen to Tusk, and just like, scream it.”

“Your mom sounds nice.” Billy smiled tightly at her.

“She was.” Stevie’s eyes went wide.

“I’m sorry.” Billy shrugged.

“My stepmom’s not too bad. And my little sister’s a hoot. She’s such a little spitfire, you two would so get along.” He sat back in the desk chair, looking at the things on her desk.

There was a jar she had written on with gold sharpie. It had a few bills and was about half full of change. Curling handwriting spelled Pussy Fund. Billy snorted when he saw it. He held it up to her.

“Pussy Fund?” She laughed.

“I was gonna call it the Coochie Collection but that felt a little crass.”

“That felt crass?” She laughed again.

“My dad’s insurance covers hormones, but nothing else, really, so I’m saving up for confirmation surgery.” Billy dug through his pocket, found three wadded bills, slapping them through the little opening in the top of the jar. “Billy, wait, you don’t have to-”

“Oh, come on. It’s three bucks. You’re my only friend in this damn town. Gonna support the garbage outta you.” She beamed at him.

He phone chimed.

“Oh, hell yeah. It’s hormone o’clock.” She pulled a black bag out of her backpack. She rifled through it, loading a syringe. “Okay, I’ll be back.” She closed the bathroom door softly behind her.

He peaked at the contents of the back. She had a few pills, needles in sterile packaging, antiseptic wipes, sanitizer and latex gloves. Billy stood up to look at the little bottle of clear liquid, estrogen.

She smiled brightly when she came out of the bathroom.

“How long have you been on hormones?” She cleaned up her little bag.

“Um, since January 6th. So just about nine months now. I was just on blockers for a while, and then they introduced the estrogen. And I though giving myself shots was gonna be a big nightmare, but I actually kinda like it.”

“I think that makes sense. It’s helping you.”

“Well, and I feel like everything changed so fast, like looking at pictures from before, I look so different. It’s like my body was just waiting to catch up to my brain.”

“I think it was. Just needed a push in the right direction.”

“Plus, I was always kind of a pretty boy. Like, once I figured out how to do my makeup, how to soften some of the edges, it was pretty easy to really feminize my face.” She stood in front of him, showing her a picture on her phone. “That was from like, last October.”

It was a nice selfie, and she looked quite similar. In the image, Stevie’s hair was shorter, but still closer to her shoulders.

But Billy thinks there was a huge difference between the Stevie in the picture, and the Stevie right in front of him.

Her cheeks were fuller now, her eyes brighter. Her hair was long, bu it was also way thicker.

She just looked so much fucking happier.

“You look a lot happier, now.”

“I am. A lot happier.” She was quiet, swiping through a few more old photos.

“I’m happy for you.” Billy reached out for her, touching her waist softly. “Would you, would you want to go on a date sometime?”

She took a step back.

“Look, you can say no, and I’ll still happily be your friend, I just, I like you a lot, Stevie.

“I um, I don’t know.” She sat heavily on her bed. “Last year, I was dating this girl. We had been together for like, a few months, and I really, I really loved her. So I came out to her, and she, she called me a freak, and disgusting, and stuff.” She was hugging herself, looking the floor.

“Is that one of the things that made you snap?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry. We don’t have to date, that’s okay, Stevie. Focus on yourself. I’m still your friend.”

“I think, I think I do want to date you. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, and I mean, you already know all my baggage. And I’ve known you for like, ten hours.”

“Don’t pressure yourself into something if you’re not ready to date.”

“It’s been almost a year, Billy. And I’ve spent a lot of time in therapy in that year.” She looked up at him, her eyes bright. “Yeah, I wanna go on a date with you.”

And then she did the cutest little wiggle, moving her hips like she couldn’t contain her excitement.

“Friday night? Pick you up at eight?”

“Better make it seven. Things close early around here.”

“You honestly might be the only good thing about this fucking town.”

[vxlkyrie]

everything i wanted

pairing: steve rogers x reader

genre: angst, fluff, nonavenger!au

warning: cursing, body image, bullying, mentions of suicide (pls listen to the song before reading this)

word count: 3.6k

summary: going to a high school reunion sounded like fun, until all the nightmares and bad memories started coming back

request: anon said “hii, can i request steve rogers x reader based on billie eilish song everything i wanted. thank you and have a nice day.”

a/n: i’m sorry it took so long! i don’t know why i kept scrapping every idea i had for this one, but i’m finally satisfied with this plot (i swear it’s based on the song, also peep the lyrics). it gets really sad, but i hope you all enjoy!

you were in the kitchen cooking up breakfast, waiting for your boyfriend to come home from his morning jog. suddenly, you heard the door open.

“honey, i’m home.” steve said. you laughed at the cheesy line, greeting him with a quick kiss.

“go change. breakfast is almost ready.” you told him, earning a nod from him.

“i also checked the mail.” steve said, placing a pile of envelopes and magazines onto the dining table.

as soon as you prepared two plates, you sat down and looked through the mail as you waited for your boyfriend to get ready.

bills, coupons, greeting cards from wanda and vision, files from the law firm, letter from your high school – what?!

your eyes widened as you examined the envelope that displayed your school’s name across the top.

“hey doll, whatchu looking at?” steve’s voice broke you from your thoughts. you didn’t even notice him taking his seat across from you.

“oh, uh, just something from my high school.” you said, raising an eyebrow at it.

“yeah? what is it?” he asked. 

you shrugged as you carefully rip open the top. you unfolded the paper that slipped out of the envelope.

“y/n l/n, you have been formally invited to your class’s ten-year reunion.” you read out loud. you felt your stomach twist.

“a high school reunion? that sounds like fun.” steve said as he chewed his food.

“yeah, no.” you shook your head.

“and why not?” he snickered.

“let’s just say i did not have the best experience in high school.” you simply answered. you never really told steve about your days before you went to college and he never asked.

“i’m sorry to hear that. i mean, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to. but i mean, you haven’t seen these people in years.”

“i would like to keep it that way.” you quipped.

“maybe you could use this reunion as a chance to show everyone that you are not the girl you were in high school,” steve started. you recognized his ‘motivational speech’ voice coming in. “i might not know what you were like back then, but you can show them that you’ve made it – that you’re better than them. you can make them regret doubting you all those years ago.” steve explained.

“you sound like nat when she wants revenge on some guy that dumped her,” you joked about your coworker, making him laugh. “but, seeing people’s face drop is pretty fun.”

“so you’re going?”

“we’re going.” you emphasized.

-

“do you see what she’s wearing?” she whispered to a group of girls.

“yeah, it looks a little too tight on her.” another girl said as the others giggled.

“who told her that looked good on her?”

“oops, i did.” one of the girls admitted, earning even louder laughs from the group.

you wrapped your arms around your middle, feeling very insecure as you stood in the corner of the room.

i shouldn’t have went to this stupid party. i thought they were my friends.

“y/n?” a male voice called to you. you snap your head up to see steve looking down at you.

“s-steve?” your eyes widened.

what is he doing here? he can’t see me like this!

you looked up again to see the familiar group of girls and steve laughing at you.

no, please no. stop this. you tried to yell, but silence only came out of your mouth.

“stop!” you shouted, jumping up from your bed.

“doll?” steve groaned, only hearing you panting as you held your heart. “are you okay?” he sat up.

“uh, yeah. just a nightmare, i guess.” you said, melting under steve’s touch as he rubbed circles on your back.

“do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

“no,” you shook your head. “i’ll be fine, thank you though.”

“okay. now come here, we got a flight to catch early in the morning.” steve said, pulling you into his arms as you both drifted into slumber.

-

as much as your body (and steve) wanted you to, you couldn’t bring yourself to sleep on the plane. you haven’t had nightmares like that since before you started college. you thought after graduation, you wouldn’t have to deal with anyone from high school ever again. but now that you’re going to be seeing them after ten whole years, your brain couldn’t help but bring back memories.

all of your friends turning their backs on you after one small mistake.

“how could you do that to me? i trusted you!” she yelled at you.

“it was a mistake! i didn’t mean to tell him, it just slipped. i’m sorry!” you said, tears brimming your eyes. “can’t we just talk this out?”

“there’s nothing else to talk about. go fuck yourself.” she spat in your face as she walked away.

you looked at your friends for help, only to be given dirty looks as they followed her.

all the bullying and shit-talking and petty social media posts.

“look at this fat pig. i was only her friend cuz i felt bad for her.” she laughed as she flipped her hair.

“did you see her new haircut? she looks like an abomination.” she laughed.

you scrolled through instagram to see that she posted a picture of her and her friends, making it obvious that she cropped you out.

“so grateful for my best friends!”

you thought you were going to puke.

even all the good times you all had before they decided to kick you out.

“oh my god you look so good in that dress!” she cheered at you as you and your friends went dress shopping.

“thank you! you look great too.” you smiled at her.

“we all look great. we are going to kill it at prom.” another girl said, holding her phone up to the big mirror as you all posed for a picture.

“you know i would trust you with my entire life, right y/n?” she told you. you slept over at her house, comforting her after she broke up with her boyfriend.

“yes, and i trust you with mine.” you smiled at her.

were they all lies? did they ever like me to begin with?

they all flashed through your head and you felt your breathing stop. you sharply inhaled, suddenly reaching for your water bottle as you chugged the rest of it down.

“you okay doll?” steve asked softly. you nodded, smiling at him, telling him to go back to sleep. “i love you.”

“i love you too.” you smiled at him. he squeezed your hand with his before he knocked out.

everything’s going to be fine. you and steve are going to walk in that venue tonight and you’re going to show them that you’ve been doing better without them.

you distracted yourself with the files your boss sent you for the rest of the flight, ignoring the anxiety that ran through you.

-

you were putting on the finishing touches of your makeup in front of the bathroom mirror.

tonight was the night.

you concentrated on putting on mascara, not even noticing your boyfriend walking up behind you. you almost jump at the feeling of arms wrapping around your middle.

“you look great, doll.” steve whispered in your ear, sending chills down your spine.

“thanks, nat bought me this dress,” you smiled as you looked at your cocktail dress that hugged your figure perfectly. “you clean up well yourself, mr. rogers.” you chuckled, pointing out his slacks and dress shirt that had the top two buttons undone.

“why thank you, doll.” he beamed at you, leaning towards you.

you met him in the middle and molded your lips together. after a while, you two pulled apart to catch your breaths.

“as much as i would love to stay and do this, we got a reunion to attend.” steve said, earning a pout from you.

“fine,” you sighed as you exited the hotel bathroom and grabbed your handbag. “but if i want to leave, will you come rescue me and sweep me off my feet?”

“of course, doll.”

-

“name?” the man at the check-in table by the entrance of the venue asked, his eyes looking through the list.

“y/n l/n.” you answered. the man snapped his head up at you.

“my, my, my,” he smirked. “my eyes must be deceiving me. there’s no way y/n l/n is standing right in front of me.” he joked.

“unfortunately, tom, they’re not.” you laughed.

“well, you look great! ten years did you good.”

“thanks.” you gave a small smile.

“and who is this fellow with you?” tom asked, eyeing steve.

“steve rogers, y/n’s boyfriend.” he spoke up, offering his hand to tom.

“you even got a boyfriend! i must be in a different dimension,” he joked once again, making you roll your eyes at him. “anyways, you’re good to go. have a great night!”

“thanks tom.”

“oh and y/n?” he caught your attention once again. you raised your eyebrows at him. “they’re here.” he said, causing you to swallow the lump in your throat. 

you nodded at tom as you walked into the ballroom, admiring the decoration that filled up the walls.

student council still doesn’t disappoint when it came to events.

“who’s here?” steve asked, wrapping an arm around your waist as you walked around the tables, trying to find your seats.

“um, just some people.” you dodged.

before steve could ask you to elaborate, a voice shouted towards you two.

“oh my god, y/n?!”

you nervously looked around to see a girl running up to you. you exhaled in relief.

“zoe?!” you exclaimed, beaming at the girl that pulled you into a hug. “how have you been? i’m so sorry that we haven’t talked in so long.” you almost cried.

“don’t be sorry. we both got jobs to do,” she smiled at you. “i heard you’re a lawyer now! i’m so proud of you.”

“yeah!” you nodded. “and i heard you’re a doctor in korea. i’m so happy for you, i know you’ve always wanted to move there.”

“thank you! and who is this hunk?” she smirked at steve who had been silently listening in on their conversation the whole time.

“this is steve. he’s my boyfriend.” you shyly smiled.

“nice to meet you ma’am.” he smiled at zoe, shaking her hand.

“and he’s a gentleman too! you got a keeper,” she joked, making the two of you blush. “he’d give those bitches’ boyfriends a run for their money.” she snarled, looking in the direction of a big group laughing a corner.

“i’m still surprised they’re all still together, they all just swapped partners.” you quipped while looking at the group too. zoe laughed at your remark.

steve looked in your direction, nodding to himself as he tried to piece the puzzles together.

“i’ll be right back, save some seats for me!” she added right before walking away.

“it’s nice to know that you had at least one friend from high school.” steve said, grabbing your hand.

“yeah,” you smiled. “she was there for me when no one else was. i feel bad for not contacting her after high school. i moved away and she was studying abroad. but it was nice to see her again.”

“that’s good,” he smiled at you. “and from the looks you both were giving to that one group earlier, i’m assuming those were the people that made high school a living hell for you?” he added. you nodded.

“yeah,” you sighed. “they were, uh, my friends, um, until-” you felt yourself starting to heat up.

“hey, it’s okay,” steve turned towards you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “you don’t have to tell me anything if you’re not ready.” he comforted you. you nodded, giving him a small smile.

“thanks.”

“of course.” he said, placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

“y/n l/n?!” a painfully familiar high-pitched voice called to you.

fuck, here we go.

you and steve turned your head to see a girl with the fakest smile on her face.

“hi alicia.” you said, trying to keep your composure. you acknowledged the other girls behind her, noticing the confused and surprised looks on their faces.

“it’s been so long!” she squealed, opening her arms. once she took a step towards you, you instinctively stepped back. steve immediately placed a hand on your lower back. “oh, there’s no need for hostility here. we’re all friends here, right?” she smiled as the other girls chuckled.

“i don’t remember you calling me your friend after you turned your back on me.” you snarked.

“that was years ago! we’re all adults now,” she laughed, clearly putting on the nice girl facade. “i see you finally got yourself a man – it’s never too late to have a first.”

“thanks,” you gave alicia a small smile, ignoring the backhanded comment. “i see that you’re still with kevin – or are you with henry now? you know, the one that dated jenny. or are you dating brad? i heard from my law firm that he and mia went through a nasty divorce. i’m surprised all of you are still friends.” you smirked as steve suppressed his laugh. the other girls gasped as alicia laughed right back, trying her best not to lose control.

“i see you still got a sense a humor. i thought you usually get less funny once you lose a lot of weight. got tired of not being able to fit into a small?” she bit back.

“maybe. but i see you still use people’s appearances as a way to make yourself feel better.” you shrugged your shoulders.

“alright everyone, let’s get this party started!” someone announced over the microphone as people cheered.

“watch this one,” alicia looked at steve. “that little mouth of her’s has always gotten her in trouble.”

“and yet her pretty little mouth turned her into one of the best lawyers at her firm.” steve spat back, which made you smile from ear to ear.

alicia gave you two one more dirty look before her and the other girls returned to their boyfriends. you felt like you could breathe again.

“i’m sorry you had to go through that.” you apologized to steve.

“don’t be sorry. i’ve never seen you snap at someone so calmly before. it was kind of scary – but also kind of hot.” he laughed.

“i’m going to have to stop you right there,” you placed your hands on his chest, laughing back. “i don’t know where that confidence came from, but i wish i had it back in high school.”

“well, i’m proud of you. you did amazing.”

“fuck yeah she did!” zoe said, walking up to you two.

“you saw all of that?” you raised an eyebrow at her.

“at least half of our class did,” she chuckled. “never mind alicia, let’s enjoy this reunion and dance until our heels break!”

-

almost an hour past by, and it was safe to say that you were enjoying yourself. you danced with zoe and caught up with a few more classmates before everybody was told to sit back down.

“as you guys know, it’s been ten years since we’ve walked the halls at our high school,” the class president spoke into the microphone. “let’s take a trip down memory, shall we? i had a video made filled with all of our memories as high school students. i hope you all enjoy!” she raised her glass as the crowd applauded and averted their attention to the big screen above the stage.

the video started playing nostalgic music – a remix filled with throwbacks that were popular when you were still in high school. everyone laughed as they watched videos and pictures of friend groups having the time of their lives and pranking each other. 

you weren’t expecting to see yourself that much. maybe a few pictures of you and zoe, or maybe even an accidental video of you hanging out with alicia and the other girls – until more videos started playing.

“get her!” alicia yelled as the other girls threw eggs at you. you screamed as you tried to shield your body from the attack.

“please! why are you doing this to me?” you cried.

“this is too easy when your fat body is an easy target!”

“i don’t remember this from the final edit.” the class president muttered as the laughs suddenly stopped.

you gulped as the video continued on to the next clip, not noticing alicia and her friends laughing at you from their table and in the video as if it was some terrifying echo.

alicia laughed into the camera’s microphone as she filmed the bonfire in front of her. she zoomed in closer, focusing on pictures of you that continued to burn.

“that’s what you get for being a fake bitch!” mia cackled.

“just go kill yourself already!”

“can someone turn that video off, please?” the president pleaded. you felt your breathing get quicker, steve grabbed your hands.

“y/n, doll, look away.” he told you, but your eyes stayed glued to the screen as tears began to form.

“hey y/n, can i ask you something?” a man asked you. the camera’s angle looked weird. it was as if someone was secretly filming you two.

“yeah, ryan, what is it?” you smiled at him.

“i-i was wondering if you wanted to go catch a movie with me this weekend?” he nervously scratched the back of his neck.

“sure, that sounds nice!”

“great! i’ll pick you up at-” suddenly the camera got closer to you two as you heard laughs.

“i’m sorry ryan, i couldn’t take it anymore!” alicia laughed.

“w-what?” you said, pushing you glasses up as you looked at alicia and ryan in confusion.

“here’s your $20. i didn’t think you’d actually do it.” jenny laughed as she handed ryan the dollar bill.

the camera catches you crying as you ran away.

“watch out people, earthquake coming in!”

suddenly the screen went black. an awkward silence filled the room, only to be broken by familiar cackles from alicia and the rest of their group.

“y/n...” zoe said softly, placing her hand softly on your shoulder.

you couldn’t take it anymore. you got up from your seat and ran towards one of the exits, letting the cool air hit your face as tears ran down your cheeks.

“y/n!” a deep voice called out to you. you turned around to see running towards you, pulling you into his arms. you started sobbing into his dress shirt. “it’s okay. i’m here. no one can hurt you.”

“how could you still love me after knowing that i looked like that? that i was such a horrible person back then.” you tried to wipe your tears away.

“y/n, listen to me. you aren’t a horrible person – you were never one to begin with. those girls were never your friends. from what i can tell, they were fucking toxic and bullied you. they’re the horrible ones heres.”

“no one even noticed or even cared to stop them.” you sniffed.

“i know and they don’t deserve you. and who cares what you looked like back then? you’re everything i want – everything i need and i want you to see yourself the way i do.” steve said.

“can i tell you something?” your voice croaked.

“you know you can tell me anything.”

“i- the nightmare, me zoning out. they were about them.”

“oh, y/n-” steve gave you a sad look.

“i had my life together. i had a job, a place to live in, you. but then once i read that invitation, memories started flooding in and it just reminded me of how-” you suddenly stopped yourself.

“how what?”

“it reminded me of i, uh, almost tried to kill myself one night,” you felt tears starting to build up again. “i was at a bridge looking over the river, and uh, i was thinking about jumping in it and letting the waves take me away. i was so weak. i couldn’t take it anymore.” you cried. steve immediately wiped his thumbs across your cheeks.

“y/n, doll, you are a survivor – a fighter. they might’ve hurt you, but they never broke you. you win by simply living your life without them. you’ve already proven yourself that you are above this, that this did not define you.”

“thank you steve.” you smiled.

“you’re welcome doll,” he kissed your forehead. “and i’m sorry for making you come to this stupid reunion.”

“don’t be.” you chuckled.

“y/n! there you are!” you both turned your head to see zoe running towards you two. “are you okay?” she pulled you into a hug.

“i am now.” you smiled at her.

“thank goodness you’re okay. after finding out that alicia switched the video, she and those fuckers got kicked out.”

“really?” your eyes widened.

“yeah, and the whole class started cheering and went back to dancing. they were asking for you, and miss class president sends her apologies.”

“tell her it’s okay and it’s not her fault.” you told zoe as she nodded.

“well, i’ll be inside if you need me.” she smiled at you, heading back inside.

“you don’t have to go back inside, you know?” steve asked, knowing that after all the shit that you’ve gone through today, you’d probably want to go back to the hotel.

“i know. but i think i can survive the next few hours dancing. how about you?” you grinned. steve held out his arm for you.

“lead the way.”

[anothertimdrakestan]

Set In Stone - Go Back

If this is the first of this series you’re seeing click HERE

I put a read more so these don’t eat up my entire blog! Enjoy <3

“We have to go back Bart. I don’t know why I was given these powers but I was, and I can save lives with them, especially back at our home Earth, there’s a reason we were supposed to come here and it’s to know that we fight for a reason, for the family here and for the billions of lives that lived because of the way people like you, me, and Tim fight for what’s right. That’s the decision a true hero makes” Bart looked at you, a look of understanding flooding his face. “You’re right - damn you’re so totally right. Just give me time to say bye?” of course you agreed, waiting for him just staring at the beautiful future. 

Children dressed in immaculate clothes chased each other laughing jubilantly while grandparents walked hand and hand down the street. The elders stopped, staring at you in disbelief. “My god you look just like Y/N you know the hero from my generation!” the older lady looked shocked to be talking to you. “Oh um, yeah. I get that one a lot!” you smiled, your heart warming knowing that you’d be known as a hero. “Ah she was a good one wasn’t she! She rescued me one time! She says “you look like Johnny Brooke” and I says “I am ma’am” and she just hugged me! I was no older than 10 - I still have the picture of us together!” the elderly man fumbled open his wallet, showing you a photo of an older looking version of you dressed in a deep purple suit, your arm around a little kid, the both of you beaming. “Johnny Brooke, great name!” you tried to take a mental picture so when you went back to Earth you’d know to look for him, time traveling was weird like that.

The couple parted ways and Bart came outside, his cheeks slightly wet from a tearful goodbye. After a quick stretch he was ready to go. You clung to his back and he turned to you one last time. “You sure about this? I don’t know if this will be our future” you thought about Johnny “I know this is the right thing to do, heroes right?” “Heroes.” Bart replied before taking off, the familiar energy crackling in the air. 

This felt different than going forwards in time. In fact it felt so different you weren’t quite sure you were even time travelling. You peeled open your eyes to face a mirror image of you. “Hey girl! Looking good! Heh get it?” she cracked the same joke you would’ve made. “Am I dead?” you asked, confused as to why your hell or heaven was just another version of yourself. She looked happier, confident almost. “Oooh yea, bear with me cuz this is some wack shit okay?” you nodded, glancing down to confirm you still had arms and legs in this alternate universe.

“okayyy so! long story short the deity Fate chose me - well, you and me - us, to carry the burden of the ever changing future. Scary shit right! So like besides all the daddy issues I’m unloading on you I’m here to tell you that the whole Tim or Bart choices stuff is bullshit all just a big test to unlock some epic powers! Obviously you passed - that whole “we are heroes” speech was totes adorable also I totally want to know how the fuck you got to the future cuz I had a hell of a time finding you I mean damn girl what did you do? Meet and tell Bart the truth even though he is basically a child when we first met him? Anyways, you can test out the fancy powers later - there’s another y/n or well, us, that wasn’t given the opportunity to choose selflessness so we’re gonna go help her! Then you can go back to your shitty timeline where you trust people! Deal?” 

“Extra powers? What do you mean?” were the first words that tumbled out of your mouth. “Don’t worry about it girl let’s go kick some ass!” You grabbed your own hand, leaping into a giant portal. 

(to read the y/n & y/n team up to save y/n plot you can go to the masterlist or go back to the beginning and make new choices!)

“Wait so you met yourself, then went on a quick trip to save yourself?!?! I THOUGHT BART KILLED YOU” Tim screeched as you tried to explain the epic adventure you just went on. Bart was relieved when you returned home, he blasted into the present and then realized you were nowhere to be found. “Yeah it’s totally crash there’s like a multiverse of y/n’s and Tim’s and Bart’s! And since they all have futures all the Y/N’s can connect! We’re actually gonna go get coffee soon I think!” you explained and Tim just about fainted. 

It would take a while for him to wrap his brain around what had happened, and it took you time to completely understand your powers and their limits. And all the reasons why you can’t go fall in love with another multiverse’s Conner Kent just because he wears a sexy spikey leather jacket and your Conner wears a black t-shirt. Life lessons. But it was worth it, the pain with using your powers was beginning to dissipate once you learned that the future changes, flowing with time not set in stone - once you learned to flow with the tide you stopped getting hit with waves. And you never stopped learning what being a hero meant to you, rooted in the selfless protection of your world you found yourself becoming a better hero and person every day. Plus the newly found daddy issues with Fate, but you had your infinite number of Y/N’s to help with that! 

“So if nothing is set in stone you can pick one of us without the other dying - who’s it gonna be?” Bart waggled an eyebrow at you seductively while Tim looked up curiously. “Yeah! I wanna know!” he added. You rolled your eyes, “if there’s anything I’ve learned it’s that picking and choosing ultimatums only hurts yourself and others, why would I continue that trend after everything I’ve learned!” Tim shrugged in agreement, still hoping you’d go for him. 

Bart didn’t get the message. “Wait so you’re saying threesome?”

“No!”

One of the best endings you can get - care to find the other good ones?

~ hey I really hope you enjoyed this series. It all started with me asking myself why heroes sacrifice themselves so easily, take Wally West in Young Justice or Superboy in infinite crisis originally I thought it was because of their relationship to the other heros or their family but then I realized that the best heroes do it because they see the life of others as so precious they’ll give anything for it - no matter the person. So I wanted to see all the ways selfishness can burden decisions, especially when it comes to love. I also wanted to show that not every ending to a story is inherently good or bad. This series has endings that end with love, death, secrets, lies, truths, and heroism and they can all mean something different to the person making the decisions. I’d love to know what you thought of this! ~

[ghostsray]

Danny Zombie chapter 2

(remember this fic? here’s the second chapter. tbh i dont even have a plot in mind, im just writing whatever bs pops in my head. based on @burning-clutch‘s prompt: an au where the ghosts are humans and the humans are ghosts)

.

Walker trudged into the cemetary. It was the dead of night, pun unintended, and he carried a flashlight to provide him better light than the dim full moon. He had received complaints from the surrounding residents about a strange occurence here: a flash of light, a sudden storm. To him, that sounded like a load of crap, but more than one person had witnessed it, so he had no choice but to investigate.

The flashlight's beam caught a group of teenagers up the hill, standing among a row of graves. As soon as they noticed him, they began to flee--two at first, then another pair trailing after. "Hey!" Walker called and picked up his pace, but he was too late. The four troublemakers had already made it to the opposite wall by the time he reached the grave they were ransacking.

Walker stopped and turned his flashlight down over the grave. He let out a disapproving tsk at what he saw. Whoever those teens were, (and he had an idea; he was familiar with all the troublemakers in town,) they had undoubtedly robbed the grave. A deep hole was dug in the mound, almost as if somebody had climbed out from inside the grave. Walker chuckled at that image. As if zombies were real.

The cop shone his flashlight down the hole. At first, he was met with nothingness, which was odd. Surely the graverobbers couldnt have taken the whole corpse with them, could they? Then, something stirred. Walker nearly dropped his flashlight in surprise, but he caught it and kneeled over the open grave to get a better look.

Nothing.

Walker exhaled. He was not a superstitious man, but this place gave him the creeps. He stood up, and as he did, his foot knocked against something. He looked down and grinned. A guitar--and a familiar one at that. He was sure the owner's parents would enjoy a nice chat with him.

He bent down to pick up the instrument, and that was when it happened. Toxic green light gradually grew from the grave and intensified until everything was shed in chartreuse. Walker momentarily forgot about the guitar, whipping his head back to face the grave.

It wasn't so empty anymore. When he peeked inside again, a swirling vortex of green...something...had filled it up. The light it produced was so bright it painted the soil a sickly green. Walker's jaw hung loose as he gawked, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Just then, something rose out of the vortex--or rather, someone.

He was a tall man in a white suit and sunglasses hiding his eyes, but what really caught Walker's attention was the fact that he was glowing. If one stared at him hard enough, his skin appeared transparent, and Walker thought he saw his skull underneath his face. Oh, yeah, and he was floating in the middle of the air above the portal he had come through.

The man, whatever he was, looked down at Walker, and goosebumps broke out on his flesh. He picked up his jaw long enough to ask, "Who...What are--"

He couldn't finish his sentence before the creature lunged at him. Walker held his arms up to protect himself, but it didn't do anything, because he wasn't attacked. Instead, the man--the ghost--had entered his body.

Walker's entire body shuddered. He felt his mind being pushed into nothingness as whatever was inside him wrested control. He desperately tried to cling to his consciousness, but it was no use. When he opened his eyes, he wasn't Walker anymore.

Operative's eyes glowed red. He flexed his borrowed neck and smiled.

.

Sidney woke up on 6 AM, like he did everyday. The alarm clock was ringing by his bedside, and he rolled in bed and slammed the top until it quieted. His eyes fluttered open. Blue eyes stared at him.

"Jiminy Cricket!" he blurted and fell off his bed.

"Jiminy Cricket?" Danny echoed. "What year were you born in?"

Sidney glared up at him from his spot upside down on the floor. The halfa was standing in Sidney's bedroom, wearing his borrowed clothes after Sidney had insisted he take a shower last night to remove all that creepy dirt on his body. He looked more alive than he had yesterday, almost normal even, though he was still pale.

"Says the guy who died forty years ago," Sidney grumbled and righted himself. He glanced at the halfa again and asked, "Didn't sleep?"

Danny slowly shook his head. "Dreams...are scary."

Sidney raised an eyebrow. Now that he looked at those blue eyes again, he noticed they seemed pretty bloodshot. "Not all dreams are scary," he said. "For example, I was just having a wonderful dream about standing up to Aragon."

"Who's Aragon?"

"This bully in school," Sidney said, and the way he mentioned the word "bully" made it sound like the worst insult possible. "His real name is Aaron, but he thinks calling himself Aragon is edgier or whatever. He thinks that just because he's rich, he's so much better than everyone else." He shook his head and added, "What about you? What dream is so scary you couldn't sleep?"

Danny didn't reply. He averted his eyes and focused on a corner.

Sidney sighed. Once again, he wondered why he was even letting him stay at his house. Curse that Ember for dropping him here. Hey, Poindexter! Here's this undead guy I found in the middle of the cemetary. I'll just drop him in your house and then leave!

He can't say he doesn't understand her reasoning, though. Ember's parents would never let her sneak a boy in her house, but Sidney's grandmother was barely aware of what was going on around her. One time he managed to keep a cat inside for an entire month, and she had no idea. (The cat's name was Gene Kelly, and he escaped when Sidney left the window open one day.)

"Well, you're a human now, and humans need to sleep," Sidney told him. "Eight hours a day. Then again, you are only part human, so I'm not sure if you need that much...um, what are you doing?"

Danny had lost interest in whatever Sidney was saying and had started rummaging around his room. Sidney got up and stopped him before he could pull open his underwear drawer. "Hey, just because I'm letting you stay over in my room doesn't mean you're free to search through my stuff! What are you searching for, anyway?"

"I told you yesterday," Danny said. "I need to make a call."

"The phone is right there, in case you haven't noticed," Sidney retorted and pointed at the telephone on his desk. But Danny shook his head.

"Phones can't contact the dead. Don't you have a ouija board? A crystal ball?"

Sidney's eyebrows rose to his scalp. "No? I'm not really into witchcraft. Maybe Desiree might have that stuff."

"Who's she?"

"A neighbor. But I'm not taking you to see her."

"Why not?"

"Because," Sidney said, "I need to go to school, and I don't trust you enough to let you roam around town unsupervised. How do I know you won't eat anyone's brains or anything?"

Danny huffed. "Why does everyone keep mistaking me for a zombie? I'm a ghost."

"You're a walking dead person who crawled out of his grave, that's why. Now can you just...stay put while I get ready for school?"

"School?" Danny asked, sounding interested.

Sidney rolled his eyes. "Yes, school. You know, where you learn stuff? I'm pretty sure those existed around your time."

"Of course I know what a school is," Danny replied, then hesitantly added, "Can I come?"

Sidney blinked. "You...want to come to school?"

Danny shrugged. "I'm curious about what new stuff students are learning since I was gone."

Despite himself, Sidney grinned. "I didn't know you were a fellow nerd."

"I'm not a nerd," Danny said, blushing. Sidney laughed and patted his shoulder.

"Don't worry, buddy. Being a nerd is actually pretty cool these days."

"You're joking, right?"

"Nope. Dungeons and Dragons is hot. Star Trek is mainstream. You have a lot to catch up on."

Danny didn't look like he believed him, which only made Sidney laugh more. "Come on, I'll bring you to school."

.

Casper High hadn't changed much in forty years, although the student body did grow. Some of the students cast curious glances at Danny as Sidney led him through the crowded hallways, but they didn't say anything. Well, except for one.

"Who do we have here?" a voice purred. Sidney groaned and turned to face the speaker.

"Hey, Aragon," he greeted with a strained smile.

Aragon looked...not as intimidating as Danny expected. He was thin, with a pimple-ridden face and greasy hair, but his sneer was enough to signify that he was a bad guy.

Aragon sized up Danny and said, "I haven't seen you around."

"This is Danny, my, uh...cousin," Sidney lied. "He's..."

"Homeschooled," Danny supplied. "But I'm curious about what regular schools are like, so Sidney offered to show me around his school." He lied so effortlessly that Sidney wondered if he had practiced it beforehand.

Aragon snickered. "Homeschooled? That's probably because you're too wimpy to be around other kids. Hey, Poindexter, why don't you join your cousin at home? It's not like anyone will miss you."

Sidney bristled. He thought of numerous insults he could throw at the bully, and he almost might have said one out loud, but then Danny spoke up and said, "You're not scary."

Aragon blinked. "Excuse me? My dad can probably buy your dad's company."

"I doubt that," Danny muttered.

Aragon bristled and almost said something back, but then a girl came and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Leave them alone, Aaron," she told him.

Sidney smiled when he saw it was Dora. He loved Dora--she was basically the anti-Aragon, kind to everyone. She caught his eyes and smiled back.

Aragon shrugged her hand away and scowled. "Fuck off, Dora. I'm pretty sure that guy just insulted me."

"He just said you aren't scary," Dora said, "which is true."

Sidney snorted. Aragon turned on him, but before he could speak, his condescending posture dissolved at the sight of a woman coming up to them. "Miss Pandora!" he said, suddenly sounding polite.

The tallest human Danny had ever seen stood over them with her hands on her hips. "What's going on here?"

"Nothing," Aragon told her, and he actually wrapped his arm amiably around Danny's shoulders and said with a smile, "We were just greeting Sidney's cousin here."

She raised her eyebrow and noticed Danny. "Cousin, eh?"

"He's homeschooled," Sidney said helpfully.

"Well, then! It's very nice of you to show him around." The teacher smiled at Aragon, and it took Sidney considerable effort not to roll his eyes. Pandora added, "Maybe you can let him take a lesson with you. Class is just about to start, you know."

"Yes, ma'am," Aragon said with a white-toothed smile and saluted her. Pandora passed them, and as soon as she turned a corner and left, Aragon pushed Danny away from him.

"Have fun at school, fuckhead," he said and laughed. He left, and Dora turned to him with a grimace.

"I'm sorry about my brother," she apologized.

Danny shrugged. "He's...interesting."

"What the fuck!"

The three teens turned to see Johnny standing in the hallway, glaring at Danny with his jaw agape. He strode to him, then jabbed a finger at his chest and demanded, "What are you doing in my school?"

"Stop that," Dora said. "Why is everyone intent on bullying the visitor?"

Johnny stared at her with disbelief written all over his face. "You don't know what he is, do you?"

Dora looked confused, but Danny just smiled and said, "Hey, Johnny. Thanks for helping me last night."

Johnny scoffed. "I didn't help you. That was all Ember."

"True, but at least you didn't stop her."

"I'm sorry, what's happening?" Dora asked, glancing between them.

Johnny scowled and said, "He's a zombie."

"Ghost, actually," Danny corrected.

Dora stared at them for a moment, and then she burst with laughter. Johnny raised his eyebrows and saw her with a hand over her mouth, eyes crinkled humorously. "Ghost! Ha ha."

Johnny frowned and said, "It's not--"

"It's a very funny joke!" Sidney interrupted. "I bet he even crawled out his grave."

He smirked at Dora as he said this, and Dora laughed harder. Sidney felt Johnny's eyes boring into him, but thankfully, the school bell chose that moment to ring. Dora wiped tears from her eyes and said to Danny, "Have a nice day, ghost boy."

"Will do," Danny replied with a toothy grin.

Dora left, but Johnny stuck behind. He sent a glare at Danny and stated, "I don't trust the undead." Then he turned to Sidney and added, "You shouldn't, either."

The way his eyes bore into him made goosebumps break out on Sindney's skin. Finally, Johnny turned and left, his shadow trailing behind him.

"What a great guy," Danny said after he was gone. Sidney tried to study his expression, but Danny was wearing an unreadably simple smile, and his hands were in his pockets. Danny's blue eyes met Sidney. "So, where's your class?"

.

Fuck, Ember thought as she sped down the hallway. She was late for class and Ms. Pandora was gonna kill her. She turned a corner, then stopped so suddenly she almost slipped on the linoleum floor.

The man in front of her turned around. He was wearing sunglasses indoors for some reason. On his chest sat a sherrif badge, and in his hand was her guitar. She had no idea what was with the glasses, but it obviously wasn't enough to stop her from recognizing him, nor quell her anxiety at his presence.

"You," he grunted, which erased any chance she had of escaping unnoticed.

Ember gulped and waved nervously. "Heyyy, Sheriff Walker. What are you doing here?"

Walker held forward her guitar. "Is this yours?"

Oh boy. Ember began to explain, "I swear, I didn't rob that grave. Heck, why would I even be in the graveyard? I don't know how this got there, you must have seen someone else--"

Walker ignored her and shoved the guitar at her. Then, to her surprise, he said, "Take it. I have no interest in it."

Walker? Letting someone go when he had a chance to arrest them? Ember eyed him and asked, "Who are you and what have you done to Walker?"

She had meant it as a joke, but the way he stiffened made her reconsider the truth of her statement. He said, "I don't care what happens to you, human," which Ember thought was a strange choice of words, "I only wish to know where the escapee is."

"The what?"

Walker (if that even was him) turned his attention away from her and focused on the hallway behind her. Now that Ember listened, she heard footsteps approach. She turned around and saw Sidney and...was that Danny? What was he doing in school?

Danny seemed to freeze up at the sight of Walker. Maybe it was her imagination, but she thought she saw his breath turn to mist as it escaped his mouth, which shouldn't have been possible because it wasn't cold enough inside the building. His eyes widened.

When she looked back at who may or may not have been Walker, she saw his face stretched in an unnerving grin. He walked around her and strode toward Danny, who somehow got stiffer the closer Walker got to him.

Ember didn't understand what was going on, but she knew enough to be able to tell that this not-Walker was bad news (yes, even worse than the real Walker) and that Danny seemed to be, for whatever reason, in danger. She shoved herself between not-Walker and Danny and said, "So, Sheriff, how's life?"

Not-Walker growled and shoved her away. Yep, that definitely was not Walker. Danny saw that he wasn't stopping and began to run away, but not-Walker grabbed his arm and tugged him back.

It didn't feel right, seeing the undead guy look so scared. Ember barely thought about her next action. She looked down at her guitar, remembered how good a weapon it made when she whacked Danny in the head last night, and swung it at the back of not-Walker's head. Not-Walker grunted and let go of Danny. His glasses fell to the floor, and when he turned around to glare at her, she froze--because his eyes were as red as blood. Ember was fairly certain that Walker's eyes were supposed to be green.

"Ember, get away! He's a ghost!" Danny warned.

Ember stared wide-eyed at Danny, and that was long enough for not-Walker's fist to connect with her gut and send her toppling backward. He didn't just punch her--he also sent a strange beam of green light that made her body buzz with electricity and sent her skidding across the hallway. She fell over and clutched her stomach, wheezing. She weakly raised her head enough to watch not-Walker grab Danny again and lift him up by his neck. Sidney was next to them, but he looked too paralyzed to help, and Ember was in too much pain to get up.

"Danny Phantom--" Danny Phantom? "--I see you're alive," not-Walker said with a sneer.

Danny quit struggling in not-Walker's grip long enough to gulp. "Alive? Nah. I'm just overshadowing someone, like you are."

"You think you can lie to me? I know what overshadowing senses like. You're alive." His cheeks looked like they were pulled back by invisible strings into a cruel smirk, and he added, "But if you're really only borrowing this body, then I suppose killing it won't do anything to you, would it?"

His grip around Danny's neck tightened, and Danny's struggling became strained. Why couldn't he just go intangible? Sidney looked like he finally snapped out of his paralysis, and he ran forward to help Danny with a yell of, "Let him go!" Unfortunately, he was quickly pushed back by the same weird light that attacked Ember.

"You're mortals," not-Walker growled. "You don't understand the laws that govern ghosts. The dead stay dead. Ressurecting oneself is a major crime--against the laws of the Ghost Zone and the laws of nature."

Cool, so it wasn't Walker, but he sure as hell was equally obsessed with arresting people. Or, well...executing them was more like it, if he continued to squeeze Danny's throat any longer. (Re-executing? What would happen if you die a second time?)

Ember gritted her teeth and pushed herself up. She may have only known Danny for less than a day, but there was no way she was letting the weirdest friend she'd had disappear so soon after she met him.

Without a second thought, she ran up to not-Walker, ignoring the pain in her gut, and shouted, "Hey, dipstick!" Not-Walker turned around but did not have time to prepare when her boot swung up and connected with his crotch.

Not-Walker cringed. Ember wasn't sure if the ghost was able to feel pain from inside Walker's body (probably not, because she was confident in the power of her kick) but the shock of being kicked in the private part was enough to loosen his grip on Danny. Danny, now able to breathe, took this opportunity to thrust his hand into not-Walker's face, and before she could blink, a bright burst of green light not unlike not-Walker's own attacks was released from his palm and roasted Walker's face.

Apparently, the ghost did feel pain from that, because he yowled and let go of Danny. Danny didn't waste any time after he landed before grabbing Ember and Sidney by the arms and sprinting down the hallway and around a corner, away from not-Walker's sight.

Danny kept running, pulling the two humans behind him. She didn't know how long they went--lockers and windows passed by in a blur--before he apparently thought they were far enough from the ghost possessing Walker and let go of their arms to slump on the floor and pant.

"Okay, what was that?" Sidney demanded.

"Yeah, and why did that guy call you Danny Phantom?" Ember added.

Danny didn't answer them at first, still catching his breath. Finally, he gulped and said, "So, that was the ghost police."

"I kind of figured," Ember said, remembering the ghost's words. "Resurrecting yourself is illegal?"

"Of course it is," Sidney said, staring at Danny, and Ember thought she saw a hint of wildness in his eyes. "It's unnatural! You're supposed to be dead!"

Danny flinched. Ember bit her lip and placed a hand on Sidney's shoulder. "Hey, man. What's done is done. Danny's alive now."

Sidney kept huffing for a moment before he covered his face with a hand and sighed. "No. I know. It's just...I wasn't expecting to be a attacked by a ghost-possessed Walker today."

"I mean, you did bring Danny to school," Ember pointed out. "Why did you bring Danny to school?"

"I asked to come," Danny answered.

"Why would you want to come to school? Are you a nerd?"

Danny looked about to argue, but then Sidney spoke up, "That's not important. That ghost inside Walker is still around. How do we get rid of him?"

Danny hummed thoughtfully. "Usually, in the Ghost Zone, we just duke it out with ghost powers, but I don't think that would work when I'm part human."

It was then that Ember finally noticed the way Danny was cradling his hands tenderly. She looked at his palm and saw it filled with slightly greenish blisters. Danny caught her looking and covered his palms, but she had already seen them. Guess that ghostly light attack was too hot for a human body to handle.

"Then what do we do?" Sidney asked.

Danny shrugged. "Maybe...are there myths about ghost weaknesses? Usually those have a little truth in them."

"What, you mean like, sprinkle salt on him?" Ember said with a raised eyebrow.

"Maybe," Danny said. "I--"

Whatever he was about to say was cut off when a blur came through the wall behind them, grabbed Danny, and went through the opposite wall. Ember and Sidney both stared slack-jawed as they tried to make sense of what just happened.

"Ghost," Sidney said.

"Salt," Ember said. "I'll go to the cafeteria."

"I think I also have something that might help," Sidney said. "I'll go get that."

There was no time for Ember to ask what thing Sidney had that might work against a ghost. The two teens separated and ran down different directions, Ember to the school cafeteria. She arrived to find it empty apart from the lunch lady behind the counter.

The lunch lady was humming to herself as she cooked...whatever the fuck school lunches were supposed to be. Ember tried to crouch near the wall and sneak into the kitchen. If she was lucky, she could grab the salt and dash without any confrontation...but she had no suck luck.

The humming stopped, and Lunch Lady said, "What are you doing outside of class?"

Ember closed her eyes and silently muttered a few curses before standing up in front of Lunch Lady with a smile. "Sorry. I just wanted to grab some salt...for a lab experiment."

"Salt? We have salt," Lunch Lady said sweetly.

"Great! I'd love some, please."

Lunch Lady grabbed a salt container, and Ember reached out for it eagerly, but the woman held it back with a frown. "If it's for a science class, why were you trying to sneak past me?"

"Me? Sneaking? I would never," Ember said, her smile straining. "I just thought it would be quicker...you know...so I don't waste any class time."

"Of course your teachers wouldn't want you to waste class time. That's why they're supposed to bring their own materials for experiments. I talked to them about that last year."

Ember winced. "They...forgot?" When Lunch Lady seemed unconvinced, Ember brought her hands together in a pleading gesture and said, "Please, I just want some salt. It won't even be long. I'll give it back."

Lunch Lady narrowed her eyes, like she was considering Ember's words. "Salt is a very important part of food, you know. Salt and meat."

Ember quirked an eyebrow. "I thought too much salt is a bad thing. Same with too much fatty meat."

She probably should have kept quiet. Lunch Lady's expression turned into a scowl, and she all but screeched, "Are you questioning my nutritional knowledge?"

Ember had met ghosts, but somehow, this lunch lady was more terrifying. Ember faltered and stammered, "Um, uh..."

She was saved by the large dirt explosion outside. Lunch Lady jumped and leaned forward, trying to look out the window with wide eyes. The salt container in her hand was in reach.

Ember snatched the salt from her and darted. Lunch Lady yelled at her, but Ember was already running away...toward the explosion she heard come from the track field outside. Somehow, she had a feeling that had something to do with Danny and that other ghost.

She emerged outdoors, and sure enough, Danny lay in a crater in the ground, looking worse for wear. Then Ember looked up at the enemy ghost and did a double take. Walker's body must have been left back inside the school, because the ghost wasn't possessing him anymore, which meant she could see his true, ghostly form.

Being near him set her hairs on edge and filled her with dull dread. He was glowing. His edges were blurry, like an old photograph. His skin was bright green and translucent, showing his skull underneath. He wore a suit that looked like it should have been black but was bleached white, and white sunglasses covered his eyes, although Ember had a feeling they were the same red shade that possessed-Walker had.

The ghost hovered over Danny's bruised form. Danny weakly pushed himself on his elbows, wincing all the way, and said, "Can't we talk about this, Operative?"

The ghost, Operative, retorted, "Sure, once you're in jail."

He aimed a hand at Danny, and Ember could tell he was about to attack. She ran toward him, shouted, "Hey! Want some salt with that?" and swung the salt at him.

Operative flinched--then blinked when the salt went through him without any effect. Ember faltered. "So...salt doesn't work."

"Salt?" Operative smirked. "I've heard about that. It has to be blessed to work against ghosts. And it must be pure salt, not table salt."

"Well, fuck," Ember muttered.

She shrieked and ducked out of the way as Operative ghost-blasted the spot where she stood. While she hit the grass, the ghost turned back to Danny and held him up by the neck. Danny was too weak to even struggle in his grip.

Just as Ember was beginning to lose hope, she saw Sidney enter her field of vision. Ember scrambled to her feet and joined him in running toward the ghost. "What did you get?" she asked.

Sidney, poor non-athletic nerd that he was, was panting too much from the process of sprinting as fast as he could to really talk, but he didn't need to. He stopped a short distance away from Operative and held up the object he brought for everyone to see: a reflective silver mirror.

Operative turned his head away from Danny for a moment to look at the mirror. "What is that? Do you want me to see my reflection?"

Ember was wondering about his plan, too. A mirror didn't sound very useful against ghosts. Even Sidney looked uncertain of himself, his knees knocking together in terror.

To his credit, he bravely ignored his fear and ran screaming at the ghost, swinging his mirror right down at him. She thought she saw the ghost's eyes widen at the last moment before he disappeared right into the mirror, somehow sucked up by the silver. Danny fell on his butt as Operative was gone.

Ember picked up her jaw and asked, "What was that?!"

"I have no idea," Sidney admitted, still wide-eyed from the fact his plan worked. "I just remembered hearing some stories about silver working against werewolves and vampires and guessed it must do something about ghosts, too."

"That was brilliant," Danny said, smiling from his spot on the ground. He was bruised all over and had second degree burns on his palms, but other than that, he seemed fine.

Now that the big scary ghost was gone and Ember's heartbeat was settling, she crossed her arms at Danny and said, "You didn't answer my question from earlier. Danny Phantom?"

"Right," Danny said, reaching to rub his neck then stopping when that made him wince. "Ghosts don't usually use each others' real names. It's...personal, I guess. So everyone goes by a nickname."

"That's why you don't like us calling you Daniel Fenton," Ember said, remembering the way he flinched when he got called that in the graveyard and at Sidney's--the same way he flinched just now as she said that.

"Yeah," he said. "That ghost we just fought, Operative...well, he's lucky because no one even knows his real name. He worked with the government back when he was alive. Everyone just calls him by his title--or the Guy in White."

"That makes sense, considering how blindingly white his suit was."

Sidney suddenly yelped, and Ember turned toward him to see that he had dropped his mirror onto the ground. She looked down at it and understood why. A swirling fog appeared on its surface before it morphed into the Guy in White's face.

She jumped when the ghost brought a fist forward and at pounded at the mirror's surface--but the mirror didn't even vibrate, much less fracture. He continued to pound uselessly and growled, "You can't keep me in this relic forever. Just as you can't escape your punishment. You're upsetting the balance between life and death. You--"

Sidney crouched and flipped the mirror over so that its reflective surface was lying face down against the dirt. The Guy in White's voice was muffled.

Danny crawled to them and struggled to push himself up. Ember went to his side and helped him stand, and as soon as he did, she recoiled and asked, "Where did your bruises go?"

Most of them were gone, and she watched as the ones that did remain seemed to glow green before fading away. Ember stepped away from him, and he stayed stable on his feet. "Healing," he said. "Injuries aren't permanent to ghosts. I guess I kept that part of me when I got resurrected."

"You brought yourself back from the dead," Sidney said. Ember turned to him and saw him staring at the mirror he had just flipped over. "That ghost mentioned something about balance."

"Dude, the Guy in White is just ghost Walker," Ember said. "He probably comes up with any lame excuse to jail people."

"But maybe he has a point," Sidney argued, glaring at Ember--and at Danny. "What makes you special enough to get ressurected? Why not everyone else who died--like my parents?"

"Sid--"

"No, he's right," Danny said. He hung his head guiltily, gazing down at his hands. The burns on his palms seemed to take longer to heal. "This was a mistake. I thought I could get my parents' invention to work--and I did--but I didn't think about the consequences. Maybe they gave up on it for a reason."

Ember tilted her head. "So...what? You kill yourself again?"

Danny bit his lip and shrugged. "I...I don't know."

Ember glanced between him and Sidney, who was shuffling in place uncomfortably. She thinned her lips and stood straight. "Well, I'm not letting you do that," she said to Danny. "I don't care if you were dead before. You're alive now."

"Technically, I'm only half alive," Danny mumbled. "I still have some ghostly attributes, but..." He glanced uncertainly at Sidney.

Sidney fidgeted, then crossed his arms and sighed. "I guess...if you're human now...there's no point in going against that. You may as well enjoy your time back. I'll accept that. No need to kill yourself."

Danny's shoulders relaxed. Sidney still had his arms crossed, but he didn't look as angry anymore. The muffled voice of the Guy in White still came from the upside-down mirror on the ground.

Ember prodded the mirror with her foot. "So, what do we do with him?"

"Break the mirror?" Sidney suggested.

"No," Danny said. "Who knows if that would get rid of him. It might just release him again."

"I still don't get how he even got here," Sidney said.

Danny shrugged. "A portal? Though, it seems a little convenient that a natural portal would open up right after I got revived..."

"Or maybe he followed you back to the human world," Ember said.

"But he's not alive..." Danny's eyes widened. "Unless--"

He grabbed the mirror off the ground and began to run.

"Hey, where are you going?" Sidney shouted.

Danny turned back to face them. "My revival must have opened a permanent portal," he told them. "I'm going to send Operative back to the Ghost Zone, and I'm going to see my parents."

"A portal? But where?"

Danny met Ember's eyes, and he knew the same thought went through their heads. "My grave," he said. Then he turned around and kept running.

Sidney and Ember glanced at each other in bewilderment. Then Ember shouted, "Wait up!" and ran after Danny.

"Wait! But what about school!" Sidney shouted.

Fuck school, Ember thought. Ghosts, zombies, portals--ever since Danny entered her life, her days became exciting, and there was no way she was missing any second of this.

[hadleyforte]

five fat turkeys → hadall

TAGGING → Hadley Forte & Kendall Andersen (@kendallandersen​)

TIMELINE → Friday, November 20, 2020

SETTING →  ASU Music Hall Piano Room

SUMMARY → Hadley and Kendall share a moment during his last piano lesson before Thanksgiving break.

Hadley had listened to her classmates' excited chatter about Thanksgiving for weeks now, but she hadn't felt any Thanksgiving cheer of her own until she'd stumbled across a list of ten Thanksgiving songs for kids to learn on the piano. Most of her classmates would be leaving for the holiday break the next morning, Kendall Andersen included, but she'd taken a shot in the dark and texted him anyway, wondering if he'd want to join her for one last piano lesson before he headed home to his family. She was probably more delighted than was strictly necessary when he agreed to come meet her instead of spending his last night with other friends instead. Teaching him her favorite instrument had been one of the high points of her semester, and the look on his face every time he successfully got through one of her lessons left her smiling for hours even after he was gone. Maybe Thanksgiving on ASU campus wouldn't feel so crummy, as long as she could imagine Kendall having a great holiday at home, showing off his new talents in the form of one of the silly songs she wanted to teach him. Hadley spread the sheet music for the songs out on the piano as she waited, idly trying them herself while she waited for Kendall to arrive.

Kendall had been so excited to get a text from Hadley the night before the holiday break. Learning piano with Hadley had been great and he'd been hoping to show his family the progress he'd made with her, so one last rehearsal before heading home for Thanksgiving was perfect. With a huge smile on his face, Kendall made his way to the music room where Hadley had been helping him all semester; his smile grew when he heard some notes coming out of the room, since it meant she was already there. "Hey, Hadley!" he greeted with a raised hand, hurrying over to where she sat and sitting next to her, wrapping her up in a big side hug for a moment. "Thanks so much for this! I actually wanted to message you too, but you beat me to it," Kendall admitted. "I'm really glad we get to have one more of these before I go home. You're the best music teacher I've ever had. And one of the coolest friends." He leaned over and bumped his shoulder against her. "So, Ms. Forte, what do you have for me today?"

Between Kendall's enthusiastic greeting and his confession that he'd wanted to reach out to her, too, Hadley felt her cheeks heating up slightly. That seemed to be a recurring thing around him; it had started in the dim firelight at camp, and hadn't stopped back at ASU, whether they were dancing at a crowded masquerade or just sitting side by side on a piano bench like this. Those thoughts were distracting, though, and she'd fought too long to push them out of her head to let them take over now. "I'm glad you were up for it! I found a couple of really cute beginner Thanksgiving themed songs; I thought it would be fun for you to play them for your family when you're home, if you wanted to. More festive than just 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star,' you know?" she said excitedly, gesturing towards Five Fat Turkeys Are We and Hooray, Thanksgiving Day! sitting before them. "If I'd found them sooner I would have made the five fat turkeys for you to take home, too, but well... you have way more camp skills under your belt than I do, I'm sure if you wanted props you could make them yourself!"

Kendall took off the jacket he'd been wearing and let it fall to the side of the bench as he listened to Hadley start talking. He never would've thought to look for Thanksgiving songs, but that was one of the benefits of having a friend that was so smart and creative. "That's such a great idea, Hadley! Don't get me wrong, I stan 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star', it was one of my first favorite songs, but these look perfect." He took in the sheet music and laughed a little at the title Five Fat Turkeys Are We, but he was quickly distracted by the idea of making five fat turkey props. "It's okay, I suck at packing so my suitcase is full anyway. There wouldn't be room for five fat turkeys but that sounds so cute! Maybe we can start picking out a Christmas song when we get back from back and make props together!" Kendall suggested animatedly, already trying to think of what would be the most fun to make. Rudolph? A partridge in a pear tree? He was getting ahead of himself, though. He always did that, and he forced himself to focus on the moment. "Um, which of these songs is your favorite? I want to learn to play the one you like most."

"Twinkle Twinkle Little Star's a classic for a reason," Hadley agreed, buoyed by how excited he was about something so simple. She really needed people like Kendall in her life, to remind her to be excited more often. There were so many good things around her; getting too bogged down in stress would make her miss them. "And we could have totally changed the words to, I don't know, Gobble Gobble Big Turkey or something... but now we don't have to," she beamed, placing the Five Fat Turkeys song in the front. It was lighter and sillier, and it felt more right for someone who seemed as effortlessly happy as Kendall. "And I can help you pack for Christmas! Unless that's weird because like, well... of course it's weird, you have to pack underwear and things like that. But I'm really organized and could help you fit everything, once you hide like... anything embarrassing," Hadley volunteered, ducking her head to hide her blush. It was so easy for her to write herself as being smooth and calm when she wrote her stories, but actually being those things in real life, when she was so close to him she could breathe in his comforting vanilla-rosemary scent? That was another story entirely. "I have a feeling hearing you successfully play them will make either one a proud teacher's brand new favorite song... But we'll start with the turkeys, how does that sound?" she asked, bumping her shoulder against his lightly as encouragement. "I'm sure you can tell me what the first note is, because you're an A+ pupil... but I can also show you, if you want," she volunteered gently, always willing to accommodate whatever learning style he was in the mood for that day.

"Gobble, gobble, big turkey," Kendall sang as closely to the notes to Twinkle Twinkle Little Star as he could before giggling a little bit. "I'm glad we don't have to but honestly? That doesn't sound bad, you just came up with that on the spot?" Maybe he was a little bit easily impressed, but it was more than that -- Hadley was just impressive. It was hard not to find everything she did clever and funny and creative and smart. And nice, too. She was so nice for even offering to help him with this in the first place, or to help him do other stuff, like pack. His face flushed at the mention of his undergarments and he shook his head, laughing a little. "It's not that weird! It's a nice offer, really. And I don't have that many embarrassing things, I promise. I don't want to ask you to do stuff like pack my suitcases but I usually end my packing sessions by jumping on the suitcases just to zip them closed and if you can help me avoid that, well, I'd owe you one." How was Hadley so nice when he was just so awkward? It would've been embarrassing if he wasn't so excited to get to learn a new song. "That sounds great," he said, keeping scooched in right next to her after she bumped against him. It was kind of comforting, feeling the steadiness of a presence next to him, especially when he was only mostly sure what the first note was. It was just so easy to doubt himself and he didn't want to guess just in case he was wrong, because he didn't want Hadley to feel like she'd been wasting her time. "I'd love it if you showed me," Kendall admitted with a grateful smile.

Hadley nodded her head bashfully. If only Kendall knew all the crazy things she thought of off the top of her head... but that would scare him away, and she wasn’t ready for that yet. The more she got attached to him, the more she had a feeling she wouldn’t be ready for that ever , but those were the thoughts of a girl who planned her life out entirely too much and forgot to live in the moment. She didn’t want to do that now, not when this moment involved the sweetest boy she’d ever met and that smile that made her stomach feel a little too fluttery. “If nothing else I could sit on the suitcase for you so you don’t have to sit and zip at the same time,” Hadley promised, giggling at the mental image of him belly flopping onto his luggage. “Or you could just borrow some of my luggage and pack extra; it’s not like I ever really leave ASU,” she added with a  shrug. She was fine living vicariously through friend’s holidays and movies and books; it only made her sad if she thought on it too long, and with the way her brain moved a million miles a minute, she could usually forget about it quite quickly. Right now she had music, and Kendall, and once he was gone at home, well, the music would still be there, at least. “Of course!” Hadley smiled sidelong at him before gently resting her fingers on the keys, letting them glide from note to note as she played the short song for him without singing the silly words that went along with it just yet.

"That's so cool," Kendall laughed, shaking his head and making a mental note to try to write a full parody version of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star to perform for Hadley when they came back from Thanksgiving break. It was kind of silly but the idea sparked joy so he hoped it would spark joy in Hadley too. After all, making a girl who'd be willing to sit on his luggage for him smile was kind of the least he could do. "That would honestly make it so much easier! I'm so not flexible enough to lie down on something and zip around it at the same time. I once accidentally zipped my sweater into the zipper, so, if I can avoid that, I'll be a happy man." His growing smile plateaued for just a second at the thought of Hadley staying at school for the holidays. Somewhere in his brain, he must've known that was the case. She wasn't his only friend from the Isle, of course, and where else would these kids without family go? Still, it pulled at his heart harder than he expected it to. He was kind of glad they were turning to focus on the music for a moment because he'd had to really choke down the reflex to ask Hadley if she was okay with not having anywhere to go, and if she wanted to talk about it, and getting into a serious and potentially depressing conversation wasn't why they were here. Maybe when she taught him the song, he could treat her to a late night coffee to thank her and ask her if she wanted to talk. Maybe he'd even invite her home…

But that would have to wait. Right now, he just wanted to prove to Hadley that he'd picked up some talents over their time together. Watching her play the notes so easily was both intimidating and inspiring, and when she finished, he clapped his hands together for her. "Okay," he said softly, rubbing his cold hands together for a second before putting his hands on the keys in front of him. He gave her a nervous smile before trying the song out. He played it slower than Hadley had, and not as gracefully, but he thought he hit all the notes right at least, enough to smile proudly at her when he was done. "I think I messed up the rhythm in the middle there but I hit the notes so...yay?"

Hadley held her breath as she watched Kendall play the song back for her. It was so impressive, how quickly he picked it up, with only a slight hiccup in the middle. "No, no, it was so good," Hadley promised him, a proud smile on her face when he had finished. "It wasn't perfect, but the best things in life aren't. If things were perfect on the first try, that would be so boring," she informed him matter of factly, bringing her hands back up out of her lap, ready to play with him. "That part in the middle's tricky anyway. Do you want to try it again? I can help guide you through it, until your hands get used to the motion," she offered. Perhaps she should have hesitated a bit more, waited for a response from Kendall, but he'd been so good at trusting her and her teaching methods so far that she thought nothing of it as she rested her hands atop his, small fingers lined up with his longer ones as she instructed, "Starting from the fifth line, ready when you are?"

Kendall hung his head sheepishly, but he couldn't hide the smile that Hadley's words brought. "One thing's for sure, I definitely couldn't have done even that when we first started. And if I'd been perfect our first lesson, this might not have continued, which would have been too bad." He was about to ask her to promise she'd still make time to play with him when he didn't need her help anymore but he held it back. It was a moot point anyway, he wouldn't ever get too good to need Hadley. Like everything else he tried, music was something he loved but it wasn't his Thing. That didn't mean he didn't want to try though, so when Hadley offered, he nodded. He didn't fully grasp what she'd meant when she said 'guide you through it', so the touch of her fingers on his surprised him, but not in a bad way. Just in a way that made his face warm and made him curse his more hopelessly romantic nature. Kendall had an issue with imagining sparks wherever a pretty smile and a kind heart and a good person and the tossing and turning of his stomach popped up. Heck, once upon a time he'd convinced himself that love-averse Claudine was an option, which was a clear sign that he sucked at this kind of thing. He thought he'd gotten better at it in more recent times but more and more sparks came up every time he and Hadley hung out. It had started at camp and followed him through every lesson, every text, every dance at the Halloween ball, and now, when her hands rested on his so comfortably. She probably had no idea that her easy contact sent such electricity down his arms, and she probably wouldn't like if she knew. Swallowing that down, he smiled and said, "Let's do it," before letting his fingers start moving. He took the first note but from then on it really felt like a team effort, to the point where he wasn't sure who was really leading, until they got to the end. He turned to her excitedly and laughed. "Is it just me or was that really good?!"

Kendall had a way of disarming her, of making her feel completely at ease with his warm smiles and his kind words. Maybe that was why it was so easy for Hadley to giggle and admit, "Teaching you became one of my favorite things to do from our very first lesson. Even if you had been perfect, I probably would have pretended you weren't, just so we could hang out more." Oh, God . That was so embarrassing of her to say that, but it was the truth. He was always so earnest, and always made her feel so special without even trying; the least she could do was make sure he knew the sentiment was returned, and tenfold, at that. When they'd first started hanging out at camp, she'd tried to hold herself back from feeling too much, knowing Claudine was so fond of him and not wanting to step on her friend's toes, but lately... Well, it had been harder and harder to fight the fact that she liked Kendall quite a bit more than she liked the average person. Thankfully, it seemed that Claudine's affections were directed elsewhere lately; it made her feel less guilty for the way her heart stuttered at the feel of their hands linked together on the keys, and definitely less guilty for the way her body was buzzing with nervous energy as they moved farther down the keyboard and she found herself having to scootch ever closer to him. "That was amazing," Hadley agreed breathlessly, keeping her hands resting on top of his, soaking up the warmth even though their song was done. "We're kind of an amazing team, huh?" she asked, jolting slightly when she realized that her face was much closer to his than it had been when they'd started, nearly as close as it had been when she'd been dancing with him at the Halloween ball and found her thoughts wandering into thinking it felt almost romantic to her. That was crazy, though; just because she felt like she was maybe allowed to like Kendall now didn't mean that he'd like her, too. He was just being his usual sweet self, and Hadley cleared her throat, finally bringing her hands back to her lap. "Do you want to try it on your own now? I can sing along, so it's still a team effort!"

It was good to hear that Hadley got joy out of these piano lessons just like he did, and it made warmth spread all over Kendall's chest. "We would've hung out more anyway," he promised, trying not to think that her confession reminded him of a thought he'd had at their last lesson, that even when he got better, he might pretend he hadn't just for more of this. More of laughing together over a piano and finding happiness in music together, of the little butterflies he felt when their fingers grazed or when her side was pushed against his. She came even closer as they played and he found himself grateful that she didn't scooch away once they were done. Physical touch was one of his big love languages, so being so close to her definitely made him feel like they were a united force. "We're the definition of an amazing team!" he assured her, his thumb briefly searching for Hadley's index finger atop his own to rub it a little bit in silent assurance. He made himself quickly stop though, because that was probably way too intimate, especially with how close their faces were now. He swallowed but found it hard to look away until he pulled her hands back, and he cleared his throat too with a nervous laugh as he looked back at the sheet music. "I'd love if you sang along," he agreed, waiting for a second before starting the song again, a little faster than his first try but still not as fast as it ought to go. Hadley had such a pretty voice and it was all so fun that he couldn't help himself from quietly joining in after she sang the intro. They really were a good team. He'd never thought he was a particularly good singer but his voice sounded like a nice soft background for hers, and he loved it.

For so long, Kendall had felt like such a separate entity to her, someone who was Claudine's friend and not really hers. She was so glad that had changed, but it was a little bit scary sometimes, too. It was entirely too easy for Hadley to understand why her friend was so fond of this wonderful boy; it was obvious in the way her brain got carried away the second he said they would have hung out more anyway, even without the piano lessons. She could picture it too easily; sitting across the table, staring into his eyes too long at nice dinners; walking across campus, maybe even hand in hand; cuddling up to him watching movies, or just staying up late talking to him about anything and everything; dancing, wearing matching costumes like they had on Halloween, only this time on purpose... Hadley had a feeling her cheeks were flushing red again just thinking about it, and she was glad for the song to distract her. Singing about five fat turkeys couldn't possibly be romantic... And yet, when the words were done, Hadley let Kendall repeat the song instead as she made up a next verse on the fly, anything to stay close to him, their hands brushing as he played, her eyes drifting from his hand back up to watch how cute his face was when he was concentrating on getting the song right... "Five fat turkeys are they," Hadley giggled, hoping she didn't confuse him too much by creating more of the song. "They played piano all day... When they gobbled along, people loved their song, and they're friends not food that way." It was a ridiculous attempt, but Hadley had a feeling Kendall would appreciate it. The fact that he always seemed to, no matter what it was she was doing, was part of why she kept gravitating towards him... like now, when she realized her face was close to his again at the song's close. This time, though, she didn't turn back to the piano; instead, she just smiled softly, not wanting to break their gaze.

The song was silly and the lyrics were borderline ridiculous, so it was even more ridiculous of Kendall to be feeling all fluttery, right? It was a testament to how much work they'd done on piano since summer that he was able to keep playing even though every time they accidentally brushed hands his face got a little bit warmer and his heart beat a little bit faster. At least it helped his playing speed up. Hadley's singing also helped him keep tempo, but he was more interested in the words she was singing than the tempo she was singing them. The words she was singing weren't coming from the sheet music -- she was making it up on the spot! And it was so good! "Oh my gosh!" he laughed, a huge smile on his face as he was visibly awed, once again, by her talent. "That's brilliant!" Which it was. It was also funny and clever and made him smile like crazy, just like Hadley herself; it was weird, but it made him feel special by association to be someone she made time for, someone she gifted with her brains and laughter and charm. And right now, it was so easy to imagine being the guy who could play piano while she came up with her unique songs. Maybe if he got better, they could do this more often. Maybe they could go to open mic nights, or karaoke, or maybe some day they could go to his house and show his parents... and wow, as always, he was getting ahead of himself, but that was so easy to do with Hadley. He'd always known she was pretty and talented, but the more he got to know her, he kept finding more and more things to like and it was getting him flustered. It also somehow kept getting him much closer to her face than he'd expected. "You're brilliant," he added, quieter now that they'd stopped playing piano. His eyes flickered down to take in all of Hadley's face before he could help himself. They were about this close when they were dancing together at the Halloween Ball, and on that day, he'd wondered if the warmth in his cheeks and the fluttery feelings in his stomach meant that something like a kiss might be a good idea. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't thinking about it right now too. She was probably just being nice and he was taking it all out of proportion, but it really did feel like something might be happening and he let himself get closer to her a little bit; even if nothing happened, Kendall found himself unable to resist indulging in the sparks between them for just a little bit longer. Hadley smelled so nice, as always, and she was so pretty, whether it was from as far away as spotting her across the room at a ball or as close as they were now, the closest they'd ever been.

This moment somehow felt so entirely different from the sort of thing Hadley had ever experienced with anyone else, and yet oddly familiar when it came to Kendall. The more time she spent with them, the more they got closer and closer to... something, that she couldn't quite put a name on. Their faces had been this close at the Halloween ball, too, and the nearness of him had made her feel fluttery and dizzy and exhilarated. Then, though, they'd been in a crowded room full of people, where anyone could see... including Claudine, whose feelings had been unclear to her. But her friend had gone on a real, actual date with another boy and had a good time! That meant she didn't have to feel guilty for wanting this moment to turn into something more, didn't it? That she wasn't a bad friend, and she wouldn't be hurting anyone if she stopped wondering what it would be like to close the distance between them and actually did it? If she was half as brilliant as Kendall said she was, she'd stop running away from something that was right in front of her just because she was scared. The scariest things in life were usually the most important ones, after all, and Kendall had already become so important to her in such a short period of time. The more she learned about him, the more she wanted to know... and right now, she desperately wanted to know if kissing him in real life would be as great as it was in the occasional daydream she allowed herself. Before she could second guess herself any longer, Hadley tilted her head upwards, until the space between them no longer existed, and her lips were pressed gently to his.

Kendall had been planning on letting himself linger in Hadley's space a moment longer, just because it felt so good to be so close to her. He wasn't really sure how long they were looking at each other; it felt like no time had gone by at all, or like maybe Thanksgiving had passed them by and so had Christmas, and New Year's, and everything else. He couldn't remember the last time he'd let himself indulge in these butterflyish feelings, and it seemed like they got stronger the longer he stayed. It was so much tension that when Hadley's lips actually touched his, it felt like a huge sigh of relief. He couldn't actually believe this was happening, but he wasn't complaining. He'd been curious about what it would be like to kiss Hadley since the bonfires at summer camp and his curiosity had only grown more and more as he'd gotten to know her, and it was sweeter than he could've imagined. It was soft but sent static all the way down to his toes and back up again. He kept the kiss gentle as he closed his eyes and leaned in a little bit, his hand finding one of hers on the piano and lightly resting on top of her fingers. It probably wasn't the correct kissing technique to have a large smile spread across his face but he couldn't help it; he always smiled when Hadley was involved. He pulled back when he was just about out of breath, because he didn't know whether to open his mouth and breathe against her or what. "Umm... that was.... awesome," he said happily and softly. "Is... can we? Again? Or...?" He wasn't even sure if words was coming out of his mouth coherently or not but he hoped Hadley understood him. She always made it feel like she did.

Hadley had only been kissed one other time in her life, and there was simply no comparison between the two occurrences. Until right now in this moment, she'd thought all the silly over-the-top phrases she used in her fanfics were just exaggeration, but no. Kissing Kendall made it clear that things like fireworks, and tingling lips, and feeling like you were a puzzle that had found its missing piece were very real feelings. Maybe inadequate, even, for describing the bliss she experienced, to have him kissing her back, returning her action in a way that made her heart feel like it was flying right out of her chest. When he held her hand on the piano, she accidentally played a random note, but she was so lost in the way their lips fit together that she hardly even noticed. She would have been disappointed that the kiss ended if she hadn't been in need of a breath herself, and she giggled when he called it awesome. "So awesome," she agreed breathlessly, "Like, awesome doesn't even begin to do it justice." With anyone else, she might have worried she seemed too enthusiastic, that she was being over the top... But this was Kendall, and she was on too much of a high from the kiss to overthink. "I'd love to -- you know, again," she nodded emphatically, squaring her body fully towards him on the piano bench. She'd had more songs she'd wanted to teach him before he went home, but suddenly, she couldn't imagine possibly sitting beside him and focusing on music when she'd just be thinking about how badly she wanted to kiss him. It was the best feeling in the world, quite possibly the greatest experience of her short life, and she brought her hands up to rest on his shoulders this time as her eyes fluttered closed and she kissed him again, more confidently this time.

Kendall had not gone into today expecting to kiss Hadley -- in fact, he tried really hard never to go into any social interactions with any expectations that fell on the other person -- but now that it had happened, he just wanted it to happen again. He'd had moments in his life where he thought a kiss might be on the horizon but there were enough factors in his mind that kept him from going for it, and the other people had never taken the initiative either. Sometimes that left him feeling unwanted, like he just wasn't the guy people took chances on, but it was hard to think about that, or anything really, when Hadley's lips against his filled his body with too many good feelings. No matter what happened after this, Hadley was the girl who'd taken a chance on him. And that made him want to take chances back, like asking to kiss again, and he could scarcely believe it when she agreed. Maybe falling for somebody wasn't supposed to be filled with nerves that he was doing everything wrong, or that he was being selfish, or the crushing guilt that he wanted things the other person probably didn't; maybe it was meant to be as easy as kissing and liking it and kissing again. And again, and again. His hands came up to rest on her arms but they eventually found their way to her waist, like they were slow-dancing. They kissed and kissed and kissed until his head went light and his face almost hurt from smiling so much, but it was so nice, one of the nicest feelings he'd ever had. It was so nice, in fact, that he got lost in it, and eventually it was late, much later than he'd expected. He wouldn't have even noticed if it wasn't for the clock in the room but when he did, he pulled back reluctantly. "I uh... I have to go home and get some sleep. I'm leaving pretty early tomorrow and it's way later than I thought. Time flies when, you know, you're with someone that makes your heart happy," he smiled. "But that...you... thank you. For the song and everything else." The blood rushed back to his face, coloring it a warm pink as his hand mindlessly took hold of one of hers. "Can I walk you back to your dorm, maybe?"

It was hard to imagine that when this night had begun, Hadley had been sad about everyone leaving her here alone for the holidays, and worried that Kendall had better things to do with his evening than see her before he left. Instead, this had turned into a magical evening she’d never forget, complete with what she planned to count as her first real kiss... and second, and third, and more. Kissing Kendall was just as intoxicating as talking to him was, maybe even more so, and selfishly she wished they could stay right here like this forever. He was right, though; it had grown late, and he had places to be even if she didn’t. She felt lightheaded and giddy as he took her hand in his and walked her back to her dorm, like the real gentlemen she daydreamed about. It was nearly as romantic as kissing him had been, the way their fingers stayed intertwined the whole time as she chattered nervously about the five fat turkeys and how she couldn’t wait to hear about how his family reacted to his performance. There was more she wanted to say as they approached the dorm she shared with Claudine — things she wanted to ask, like what this meant for them and if it could happen again, the sooner the better. That might be asking for too much, too soon, though, and Hadley didn’t want to ruin her perfect night by asking and getting answers she might not like. Instead, as they reached her door, she wrapped her arms around his neck to steady herself as she pressed up on her tiptoes and kissed him again, lingering there as long as she could, savoring the taste of his lips and the floaty feeling that she had a feeling would stay with her the whole time he was home. “Happy Thanksgiving, Kendall,” Hadley told him, pulling him tight for one last hug before finally putting her hand on her door and twisting the knob to go inside and dream of him instead.

[rynhaswritersblock]

midtown morning announcements | p.p.

a/n: in this story YOU are a reporter in the announcements and betty is NOT!!!!! sorry betty love you bae <3

summary: as a reporter for midtown tech's daily announcements, it's easy to get carried away with ideas. especially ones involving the newest superhero from queens.

warnings: cussing, some chaotic energy, 5.6k words because i POPPED OFF, messy epilogue but just roll w me

+ + +

"Oh my god, she's crushing on Spider-Man."

You tried. You really tried. Sure, you were friends with Betty and Liz, but god, if some of their conversations didn't make you want to scream.

Nevertheless, you whirl around. The statement was too absurd for you not to. Liz, the pretty, popular girl, had a crush on a hero whom she'd never seen the face of.

Now that was a story.

You spin back around, snatching the book out of MJ's hands and ignoring the look she gives you.

"How soon do you think I can convince Mr. Harrington to give me an extra segment in the announcements?"

+ + +

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but I just don't think there's enough time to-"

"Mr. Harrington, please," you plead. "We can cut the segment about.. what's it called? What's New in the Teacher's Lounge? Trust me when I say this: talking about the new coffee filters and low stock in the vending machines only loses everyone's attention."

A sigh falls from the mans mouth. He scratches his beard thoughtfully and you bite back a grin at his dramatically thoughtful expression.

"Okay, fine, Madam Reporter. You can have your segment on Spandex Man," he says.

A smile pulls the corners of your lips. "Thank you, Mr. Harrington, you won't regret it."

He just nods his head, an awkward silence filling between the two of you. He eventually catches the hint and turns around, beginning to walk away, muttering.

"I swear, teenage girls and their obsession with men in tight clothing."

Your eyes widen and your face explodes into an expression of defense before you turn around, face-to-face with MJ.

"So?"

"I got it."

A smirk breaks on the girls face. "Ready to shoot?"

Your eyes widen and move over to the wall of the reporting room, the clock reading 7:29 am. One minute before filming time. You look back at MJ and shrug hopelessly, jogging over to the setup in front of the cameras and sliding in next to Jason.

"Hey, Y/N-"

"We're cutting the teacher's lounge segment and I'm replacing it with a different one," you blurt, then turn to the camera as the red light turns on and begins blinking.

"Wha- Good morning, students of Midtown Tech!"

You suppress a laugh.

"Today is Wednesday, September 21st. Happy Fall," you smile. While you were never anxious in front of the camera, you were completely unprepared. The change in segments was made literally two minutes ago, and the only ones with that knowledge were you, MJ, and (kind of) Jason. Thankfully, MJ was a quick scriptwriter, but this was something you wanted to make perfect. Your perfectionism wasn't easily controlled, and with a new segment like this, you wanted to make it just right.

You and Jason swapped reporting different details about events, the weather- the sort of stuff a lot of students didn't really care about. But, as soon as you saw the words "Y/N: INTO SPIDER-MAN SEGMENT" on the screen, you knew this would grab everyone's attention. You also knew that you would kick MJ later for not even giving you a script when you knew she was capable of at least writing a few things.

"Ohhhh-" Jason gasps, understanding what you'd meant earlier. You hit him in the arm before mentally preparing yourself as quickly as possible.

"Word about the new hero, known as Spider-Man, has taken over Midtown Tech, and everyone seems to have the same question: who is the man under the mask? Well, Tigers, I've decided to take it upon myself to discover this upcoming Avenger's identity. In this segment, you'll see interviews and videos of the hero, as well as a link in which you can scan a QR code on the screen and submit guesses, and later vote on who you think it is!"

"Yo, that's dope," Jason nods, looking at you, impressed and surprised.

"It is," you smile at the camera. "Now onto Cindy, who is with the Mr. Harrington to talk about the importance of, um, kissing your pets at least 10 times daily..?"

The filming session wraps with you and Jason doing your signature sign-off (putting on sunglasses and playing Midtown's anthem on kazoo's). You slide out of the chair, setting your glasses on the table behind you and walking over to MJ with a sigh.

"Dude, what the hell?"

"Hey man, you did fine without a script," she retorts, raising her hands in defense.

"I'm aware," you raise a brow.

From across the room, you can hear the editors grouping around the computer, laughing at all the memes and sound effects they're gonna put in.

+ + +

Not good. Not good not good not good not good.

Peter Parker stood frozen, feet away from one of the multiple TVs in the hallway, jaw slack as he stares at the screen.

Not even the chaotic memes and crappy video effects could make him laugh (the boy had a weak spot for Comic Sans).

He knew who you were. Peter'd occasionally see you in the hallways, and you'd always smile or even just give him a small look of acknowledgment. Still, never talked. Which, now that he thought about it, was probably a good thing. The second you figure out Spider-Man's voice, it'll be engraved into your brain, and there'll be no hiding if you approach him.

"Hey, Peter!"

The boy jumps, spinning around to see Ned, about 20 feet away, bright smile painted on his face as he waves a bit aggressively. Peter mentally prepares himself before walking over, plastering a (hopefully convincing) grin on his face. Ned, of course, is oblivious and falls for it.

"Dude, did you watch the announcements today?! That shit is crazy! I mean, Y/N's so smart and stuff, she's probably gonna figure out who it is in, like, two weeks," Ned babbles.

Peter looks around cautiously, feeling as though all eyes are on him, despite the fact that he was most definitely on the bottom half of the popularity list.

"Yeah, weird."

Just then, he sees you turn around the corner with MJ, waving to someone he didn't know, and catches a smile on your face.

His prior neutral opinion about you began to shift.

+ + +

By the end of the day, you were practically floating. The entire school was buzzing about the new segment- hell, it almost creeped you out how excited everyone was. At lunch, people couldn't stop glancing over at you, whispering about who they thought Spider-Man might be. At first, the looks were different, interesting, but now they just made you plain uncomfortable. Nonetheless, when you stepped outside after the final bell and everyone's mind shifted from the segment to the idea of getting home, you felt proud.

And, although the two of you were apart, both in terms of distance and relationship, you and Peter felt the same feeling as you flopped onto your respective beds in your respective apartments:

You now had the weight of the world on your shoulders.

+ + +

The FBI agent in your phone was probably terrified. You went from being an average, phone-using teen, to being a complete stalker, notes and news apps taking over your storage- all to make sure you'd never miss a story. Moreover, you'd done all this within the last two hours.

With the exponentially rising expectations from your classmates, you made a promise to yourself that you wouldn't let anyone down. That started today: the day of the Spider-Man's Secrets debut.

Just as you lay back on your bed, back sore, you come to the realization that all of these precautionary apps would only give you the scoop after the incident. AKA: not soon enough. You groan, rolling off your bed and slipping on your shoes, grabbing your keys and making your way out of the apartment.

While hadn't necessarily wished to be walking through the streets of Queens as the sky darkened, part of it was kind of peaceful. If you ignored your paranoid thoughts.

Nonetheless, you thought, if you were to get attacked, the man of the day would show up, right?

A sigh falls from your lips as you round the corner, figuring you'd go to Delmar's and get a sandwich. And pet Murph.

Your plans are foiled when you stop in your tracks at the sight of Spider-Man battling some robbers in the bank. Even though your eyes widened, you let out a small laugh- the robbers were wearing Avengers masks. How nice for Tony Stark's image.

The whole situation looked like one of those weird money-tornado things you'd seen at arcades. You rip your phone out of your pocket and begin recording just as a purple beam shoots out of the bank, streaming in a haphazard circular shape and nearly hitting you. A yelp elicits from your mouth as you duck. When you rise, the robbers are gone, and Delmar's is on fire.

"Holy shit," you gasp, checking to make sure your phone is still recording.

You felt a little stupid as you ran over to the building, phone in the air like a goddamn touristic maniac.

"Ma'am, I'm gonna need you to get out of the way, it's-"

You feel a pair of hands wrap around your waist, pulling you back. You begin to wriggle out of the grasp before you turn your head and meet eyes with Spider-Man. The large white eyes of the mask widen, as do yours.

"It's, um," he clears his throat, lowering his voice and using a Jersey accent, "too dangerous."

In a flash, he's gone, leaping through the broken window and yelling for Mr. Delmar, voice back to its high state. You're stunned, not having expected to have gotten that lucky on your first night, as well as from the state of the building you had loved so much. You stay there, standing at the edge of the sidewalk, chewing nervously on your nails as you wait for Spider-Man to run back out, hopefully with Mr. Delmar and Murph.

You had a job to do.

A relieved sigh leaves your lungs at the sight of the hero helping Mr. Delmar out, handing him Murph with such a careful and cautious demeanor that gives the hero so much humanistic personality that it practically knocks you out.

You knew you were one to notice body language, but watching someone without being able to see their face only amplified them. You watch silently as Spider-Man hangs his head as he walks away from the scene, looking tired, ashamed almost. People begin gathering around the building, videoing and a few going over to Mr. Delmar and lending him support. A ping of guilt rings through your veins before you remind yourself of your job.

"Excuse me?"

He stops, turning around. Reporters begin pulling up in large news vans.

"I have a few questions."

+ + +

The only time you'd ever flown was at the airport. Or in your dreams. But never this way.

Your heart was still racing, despite having landed on the roof of some building almost a full sixty seconds ago.

"Sorry, but could we hurry this up? I kinda, uh, need to get home," he says, hints of paranoia lacing his words.

"Yeah, sorry, just, you know, have never swung on a fucking web multiple stories up before," you nod, pursing your lips and instantly regretting your harshness. "Sorry."

He nods. You pull up the voice recorder app on your phone and hit the button. A rush of awkwardness hits you.

"So, uh, Spider-Man: tell me about yourself."

"Well," he scratches the back of his neck nervously. His voice is deep, with that same rich Jerseyan accent. You don't buy it at all. "I'm, well, I'm Spider-Man. I like.. helping... people?"

"Uh, yes-" you blurt, nodding your head. You didn't want to completely bombard him, you wanted to just intro him and get some exclusive information. "How did you get your powers?"

He goes on to explain that he was bitten by a radioactive spider. Luckily for you, he goes off on a tangent, ranting about how weird it was and what exactly his powers were. You smile every time you notice his accent and deep voice slip into something that sounded more natural- higher, but natural.

Based off of the hints of his voice alone, you'd guess he was anywhere from 12-18 years old.

"And then I would wear like super big shirts to school to try and hide it because I didn't want to look suspiciously stronger--"

"School?" you interrupt.

"Oh, uh.. yeahhhumIgottago!" he blurts before awkwardly backing up, jumping off the building and swinging away.

A smile creeps onto your face. Enough to satisfy your classmates.

+ + +

"Luckily, I was able to catch the hero right after the incident, and he swung me with him to the top of a building for privacy from other news stations and police officers," you smile, ignoring how Jason was bouncing excitedly next to you, eager for information. He was a prime example of the excitement going on around the school.

"Spider-Man received his powers from a bite from a radioactive spider, and gained his new skills over night. Reportedly, he woke up with defined and large muscles, giving him the physique you can catch while he swings by. He has super senses that can detect any form of danger, 'sticky' hands and feet, and crafts his own webs that have been incorporated into his suit, given to him by Tony Stark, aka Iron Man. Here's a vocal clip from our interview!"

Normally, the sound of the announcements would be substantially muffled by the sounds of kids moving everywhere and chattering, but not anymore. Now, students grouped around the TVs, whispering. Peter had tried so hard to ignore your voice while not seeming suspicious.

But, as soon as he heard his own voice through the speakers, the announcements had his full attention.

He was relieved that you'd used a clip in which he'd been lowering his voice and using an accent, but there was a second in there where your masked voice slipped. Not good.

The boy suffered through the school day, ignoring the gossip of students, including Ned. Not to mention MJ suspiciously eyeing him during lunch. Either she had a crush, or she knew something. Peter suspected the latter.

As soon as the bell rang, he darted out of the doors, going to his usual hiding spot and changing, swinging as quickly as he could to the Stark Tower. The boy landed at the front steps, bending over and panting for a second before mustering up more energy and running up to the door, ringing the buzzer as many times as he could.

"Welcome to Stark Tower," F.R.I.D.A.Y. said, monotone. "Identification, please."

"Peter Parker," he pants, pulling up his mask and looking into the camera.

"Unknown identity. Access denied."

A buzzer rang off and the boy frowned.

"Let him in, F.R.I.," Tony yells from inside, walking over and opening the doors. "Hey, Pete."

"Hi, Mr. Stark. Why wouldn't it let me in?"

The two walk into the main entrance.

"No reason."

"What?"

"I just have a different name for you in the program, that's all. If the name doesn't match the face, the doors don't open."

"What name do you have for me, then?"

Tony sighs, hints of mischievousness in his eyes. "Underoos. Can't believe you wouldn't think of that."

"Got it, sorry," Peter nods, clutching the mask in his hand. "I need you to put a voice changer in my suit."

+ + +

You were starting to get a bit worried. Spider-Man had started using a voice changer in his suit, and when you asked about it, he said he'd heard about you using his voice in a school announcement, and he needed to maintain anonymity.

Of course, this had taken a toll on you.

Not only did it lessen your chances of figuring out who this kid was, but it made you feel bad. After all, you were disrespecting a hero's privacy, trying to expose them to a mass of teenagers. And all he was doing was trying to protect the very place you lived in.

You'd managed to catch him at just about every incident he'd been in, but each time, he got less and less open about everything. You were running out of questions that you deemed fairly respectful, and he became very closed off, and for good reason.

If you exposed him, he'd be much more susceptible to attackers, who'd then be able to hurt the people he loved. You sigh as you begin your walk home from school, wracking your brain for more questions. You'd dug yourself into some deep shit.

A flash of red and blue pulls you out of your thoughts.

"Spider-Man!" you yell, eyes widening when you notice a few people look at you and then divert their attention to him, gasping. You mutter a profanity before jogging over to where he'd landed on top of a traffic light. "I have a few questions."

"Yeah, of course you do."

As if the deep and robotic voice wasn't cold enough already. You hear a loud sigh at your perplexed expression, and before you know it, you were flying again, landing a bit harshly on the roof of another building.

"Ouch, okay."

"Sorry," you hear him mutter. "Off the record?"

You nod and watch as he presses a button on his wrist.

"Look-"

A smile begins creeping on your face at the sound of his normal voice, but you bite it back.

"- I don't know why you're doing this. What I do know, though, is that you're trying to expose my identity to a large group of highschoolers. Do you realize how much trouble that could cause me, Y/N? I mean-"

"Shut up-" you interrupt harshly. "You know my name?"

"What? No, I, uh-"

"You just said my name."

"It was a wild guess!"

"The fuck do you mean a wild guess?! Do you go to Midtown?"

Even the mask can't hide his panic. Holy shit.

"Look: exposing me would literally ruin my life. I need you to shut this down. All of it."

"I would if I could," you say, exasperatedly. "I don't know whether you go to my school or you somehow stalked me and found my name, but: I'm a reporter for the Midtown Tech daily morning announcements. I made a promise to my classmates that, given the craze about you, I'd try and discover your identity. It blew up, way more than I expected. I have the weight of the world on my shoulders now; I can't give this up! Everyday, at least one person comes up to me and asks about you."

"You do realize that, by exposing me, you'd cause more trouble than by just letting it go?"

You're silent for a moment. He's right.

"I'll figure something out."

+ + +

"Yesterday, when I approached him yesterday, Spider-Man swung us onto another rooftop for another private discussion, in which he answered more questions."

Lying stung you like a bitch. Off the record, you remember.

"The hero claims that he's working on becoming an Avenger, training with the current members so that he can be on the team. Unfortunately, that's all he was able to tell me last evening, as he claimed he had something to do and swung away."

You sigh when the red light turns off, slipping out of your chair and over to where MJ sat. You grabbed your bag and began walking away.

"Was all of that true?" she asks as she follows you out. You nod. "You sure? Because something was off about it."

"It's all true, MJ, I'm just tired."

Peter's face was scrunched up, confused as he watched you on the screen, explaining about Spider-Man's supposed plans to join the Avengers. And then it clicked.

You were actually helping him.

After everything that'd happened, he'd half expected you to just full out expose him. To take your assumptions and spill them all over the school, telling everyone that Spider-Man was a student at Midtown Tech who knew your name. Peter hated how good at correctly assuming you were.

Thankfully, though, everyone bought it.

"Yo, did you hear that?"

"Hmm?" the boy hums, raising his eyebrows and looking over at Ned.

"Spider-Man's going to be an Avenger!"

"Yeah, that's, uh, that's really cool," Peter smiles, trying to match Ned's optimism. The smile drops slightly when he sees you walk past.

+ + +

You found a loophole. Upon reading all the comments on your Spider-Man link from announcements, you decided to start interviewing random students to get the content you needed.

All throughout lunch, you'd been pulling kids aside- Cindy, Liz, Betty, Flash. A sigh falls from your mouth as Flash walks away (with a bit too much pride for having just gushed about the hero), and you look around the cafeteria for more people.

You meet eyes with Peter Parker.

"Peter," you call, waving him over.

He mutters a word May wouldn't approve of, patting Ned on the back before trying to mentally crush his anxiety. He begins to sweat.

"Can I interview you for my segment on the morning announcements?"

All he does is give you a slight smile and nods. You knew Peter was quiet, but you'd think he'd be a bit less cold.

"So, Peter, have any guesses as to who Spider-Man may be?"

He was trapped. The boy stood in front of you, silent, mouth slightly ajar.

"Peter?"

"I don't know," he blurts. You freeze.

"What was that?"

He trips over his words. "Oh, uh, nothing, I didn't-"

"Holy shit," you whisper. You could've been making a complete fool of yourself acting so dumbstruck, but you'd be damned if you didn't just crack the code.

"Y/N, I-"

"So, Peter," you clear your throat, giving him a look. "Who do you think it is?"

"Flash."

An ungodly-sounding laugh bubbles out of your chest, causing him to laugh too. The two of you share a knowing look.  

"Thank you for your response."

+ + +

You hated the dark. It always made you paranoid. And, while the lights from all the stores and streetlamps helped, it wasn't the same as daylight. Anything could happen in New York.

You also hated how right you were about that.

You were on your way back from doing some brainstorming about how you'd continue the segment at Delmar's when you heard a rustle in the bushes. While it was your stereotypical horror movie sound, it still creeped you out. You couldn't out-walk it, though. A pair of hands wrapped around your body and began pulling you backwards.

Shit.

A loud yelp elicits from your mouth before a hand wraps around it too, and you try to wriggle out of the strong grasp. You manage to get a hand free, wrapping it around their wrist and twisting it off of your face before spinning around, meeting a dark pair of eyes underneath a generic "robber" mask.

"HELP," you yell, kneeing the guy in his crotch, finally freeing yourself as he falls to the ground. You'd never run so fast. The sound of footsteps behind you gets closer, but stops with the sound of hard impact and a groan. You stop and turn around.

Spider-Man is there, giving the guy a final punch in the jaw before webbing him to the wall and backing up, pressing a few buttons on his suit before looking up at you.

"How predictable and cliche," you sigh, rubbing your arm.

The sound of sirens begins wailing in the distance.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I think so-"

"Here," he says, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you to a rooftop, coincidentally, the one belonging to your apartment building.

"You sure have a knack for swinging me onto rooftops, don't you?"

"There's never anyone on them, so," he shrugs. You smile slightly- his voice masker is off. You were right.

You walk over to the edge, sitting down and dangling your legs over the edge. He joins you.

"Hey, um, if you could maybe not-"

"Don't worry, Peter. I won't," you say, looking over at him reassuringly. He sighs.

"Guess I can take this off now."

You watch as he pulls off the mask, taking a deep breath and shaking out his curls. You don't let yourself stare and instead just smile, looking down beneath the two of you.

"That's my apartment," you point down, slightly to the right at the fire escape.

He looks up at you in surprise and the wind gets knocked out of you. You'd never seen Peter Parker the way you did right now. He'd always been this mellow kid, yeah, cute, but sort of... in the background. A nerd (but that wasn't a bad thing). Now, though, he was in his element. The moon hitting him just right, his curls messy from his mask. He wasn't afraid of being judged because nobody was around, and he was wearing a suit that made him who he always wanted to be: a hero.

"No way! My apartment is literally right across from yours!" he says, excitement and facial expressions reminding you of a puppy. He pointed his window out, and sure enough, it was just about right across from yours as far as you could tell.

You don't know what to say, so you just smile instead, letting a little laugh out.

"So, uh," you breathe, "I'm not sure exactly what I'm gonna do about the whole Spider-Man's Secrets thing, but I won't expose you."

"Thank you," Peter sighs, voice accompanied with relief and a crooked smile.

"Maybe I can tell everyone that you're just too good. Like, you've got titanium walls all around you."

"Heh, yeah."

He looks over at you and smiles.

+ + +

EPILOGUE - NOTE:: some of the details of this may not make complete sense, nor line up with the plot of the movie in which this takes place. the point still gets across, so please don't make any rude comments lol- i did the best i could!

"I managed to send the Elemental back into the dimensional rift, but I don't think I'm gonna make it off this bridge alive. Spider-Man attacked me for some reason. He has an army of weaponized drones, Stark technology. He's saying he's the only one who's gonna be the new Iron Man, no one else."

"What the fuck?" you mutter. Peter would never say that.

You gasp at the video. Sure enough, Peter's standing there, confirming a fatal drone attack. Screams ring off in the distance and you practically choke.

"There you have it, folks. Conclusive proof that Spider-Man was responsible for the brutal murder of Mysterio!"

You sneer at the screen, the sight of J.J. Jameson making you angry. That man always got angry over the smallest things. You get on your phone to text Peter but stop. More footage from Mysterio begins playing.

"Spider-Man's real... Spider-Man's real name is... Spider-Man's name is Peter Parker," he chokes out.

You jump as Peter's school picture fills your TV screen.

"Holy fucking shit," you mutter, heart racing.

This is not right.

+ + +

He didn't answer you at all. None of your texts, none of your calls. Hell, you almost went over to his apartment, but you didn't remember his new address, since he and May moved after the Blip.

The two of you had become extremely close ever since you'd found out his identity, hanging out whenever you could. It was beyond unlike him to not answer you.

You sprinted into the news room. It was less than 24 hours after Peter had been exposed, and he was everywhere. Social media, news stations; hell, his picture was all over Times Square. And everything they were saying was all wrong.

"Mr. Harrington!"

The man spins around, startled.

"Oh! Good morning, Y/N-"

"I need you to start taping right now. Abe! You know how to hack, right? Broadcast this all over Times Square and every news station you can," you pant. The kid sits up in his seat, brushing Pop Tart crumbs off of his jeans and nodding with a smile.

"What is this all about?" Mr. Harrington asks as he moves over to the camera, cautious.

"You'll see."

You sigh as you sit in your seat, looking over at Abe. It takes a minute, but as soon as he gives a thumbs up, Mr. Harrington hits record.

"Hi. My name is Y/N L/N, and I am a student of Midtown School of Science and Technology, as well as a reporter for our daily announcements and an affiliate of Peter Parker. As I'm sure you all know, it was reported yesterday by the Daily Bugle that Spider-Man's secret identity is a boy named Peter Parker, and that Spider-Man is a so-called 'selfish murderer.' Well, I'm here to tell you that none of this is true. I know, I'm just a highschooler, but having to write several research papers for this school has taught me how to provide a statement with legitimate backup. That's what I'm here to do today.

"Mysterio, who's real name is Quentin Beck, was introduced to the world as a hero, fighting off creatures called Elementals that wrecked havoc throughout Europe. When one of these Elementals reached London, the footage shown yesterday was of Spider-Man and Mysterio on the London Bridge amidst chaos. Not only was that video altered to turn the blame on Spider-Man, but a creature called a Skrull is actually Spider-Man. Upon speaking with the head of SHIELD, I was given information on these creatures- they can shapeshift into whatever they want to be, as long as they've seen the organism before.

"Now, how do I know all this? One: after doing some light research on Quentin Beck, I discovered that he'd been fired from Stark industries in the past for his controlling and manipulative behavior. That'd explain his reasoning and desire for power. Two: upon asking a classmate of mine- who's an absolute prodigy in the field of computer technology and video- to review the given footage, they were able to find two small glitches in the footage that revealed the real video underneath, and further, unmask it completely. Abe, the video should be in your inbox. Pull it up and broadcast it, please."

You let out a deep sigh as you hear typing, then the sound of the real video.

"EDITH, turn off the drones."

The video clip finishes and the camera focus returns to you. "Now, I don't have complete proof on me about the identity claim I've made. But, as soon as the head of SHIELD gets back to me, I can prove it. What you do have confirmed, though, is that Mysterio was the problem. Spider-Man did nothing, other than do what was best for the safety of others. I have all the evidence lined up for you, and it's up to you to believe it. A message for you, Mysterio- if you're still alive- and your affiliates: don't mess with kids from Midtown Tech. We know what Spider-Man stands for, and so does the rest of the world. Trying to mess up his reputation from the grave doesn't help anyone. Sincerely, Y/N L/N and the students of Midtown Tech. As well as Peter Parker, who feels pretty attacked right now for no good reason. Have a great day!"

You smile into the camera before Mr. Harrington turns it off. You hadn't noticed them come in, but everyone on the news team had come into the room, all of them silent, dumbstruck. And then they started clapping.

You give them a tired nod and grin before grabbing your bag, saying hi to MJ and walking out. Thankfully, school hadn't started yet, but students were starting to arrive. You enter the bathroom and stare into the mirror, hoping you didn't just fuck everything up even more.

Your phone buzzes and Peter's contact picture (one of him in Hello Kitty pajamas, sticking his tongue out at the camera) fills your screen. You hurriedly answer.

"Peter! Where are you? Are you okay?"

"Janitors closet, 300 hall. Knock when you're here."

Butterflies flutter through your body as you run through the hallway, ignoring the weird looks from the couple that always shows up early to makeout against the lockers. You find the closet and knock, looking around to make sure nobody could see. The door opens and a hand wraps around your wrist, dragging you inside.

You gasp, balancing yourself, and Peter shuts the door behind you.

His appearance surprises you. He's the face of depression and hopelessness. Dark bags fill the space beneath his eyes, which are red from tears. The look makes you hate the world.

"Are you okay?"

"I am now," he breathes. "the news is buzzing about what you did. They got confirmation from Nick about what you said and, sure enough, every news station is broadcasting your claims with full evidence. Everyone's believing it and apologizing. Thank you."

You smile weakly and wrap your arms around him. "I did what I had to do."

"I don't know what I'd do without you," he mutters into the crook of your neck. The scent of your perfume makes him feel all tingly inside, the softness of your skin making him never want to stop holding you. You felt the same way.

"Ditto."

+ + +

akdjxfbavdgkjnwrjk i hope you guys enjoyed !!!!! tbh i'm not sure how to feel about this imagine lol

[unfortunate-stranger-losers]

Right-Side Up AU, Part Three: It’s the End of the World {AO3} {tumblr} {Part One} {Part Two}

Chapter Five → Return to the Void

“Sorry we’re late!” Joyce said, running in and hanging her coat on the rack. “We had to talk to Ms Driscoll, and-” 

She looked around, surprised to see only four children sitting on the floor. As Hopper walked in after her, Max said, “Everyone else is late, too, you’re fine.” 

“Oh.” Joyce said. “Wh-where’s Will? And-” 

“Will and Dustin are at the mall with Steve.” El explained, her and Mike still braiding bracelets together. “Nancy and Jonathan are somewhere, I don’t know.” 

“Probably making out.” Max said. She was staring very hard at the floor. “I was gonna walk home myself but I walked Lucas home first and El thought-” 

“That you walking home alone has had a precedent for turning out bad.” El said. She glanced cautiously at Max, who still stared at the floor. Lucas was giving her the occasional worried look, too. 

“Well, um…” Joyce tried hard not to look anxious. “I… I suppose that’s alright. It’s just-” 

“Weird we’re not attached to each other?” El said. 

“I didn’t say-” 

“I think,” Hopper said, giving El a careful glance, “We should go home. Joyce, you catch Nancy and Jonathan up on what we found.” 

Joyce nodded. “I-” 

“I need to sleep.” Max stood up quickly, still not looking at anyone. She walked right past Hopper, and out the door. 

El bit her lip. “Dad, is this… the whole PTSD thing you mentioned?” 

He took a sharp breath. “Maybe? Or it could just be teen angst. You all get it.” 

“Can we help?” 

Hopper gave her a sad look. “We’ll… have to see. Come on.” 

El hesitantly gave Mike a kiss on the cheek, and then stood up and followed her father out the door. 

When she left, Lucas looked up at Joyce and said, “Can… can Mike and I hang out for a bit? Until Steve comes back.” 

“Of course.” she said, a kind smile on her face. “Of course, I… I’ll jot down my thoughts for Nancy and Jonathan when they get back. You two have fun, okay?” 

Lucas nodded, and held out his hand for Mike. Mike took it, one hand still holding the half-done bracelet, and the two of them headed to the room they’d managed to make for Mike. 

Once Lucas closed the door, he said, “Mike, can you still go into the Void?” 

Mike placed his bracelet beside several others on his desk, and he said, “Yeah. Why? Cause El told me not to spy on her or Max because that’s ‘invasive’ and ‘creepy.’” 

“I need you to spy on Max’s stepbrother.” 

Mike blinked. “Why the hell-” 

Lucas sat on the bed and said, “He was at the pool. Me and Max passed him. He was being really mean to her.” 

Mike’s eyes widened, and he sat beside his friend. “That is scary.” he agreed. “But why do I need to-” 

“I accidentally threw some light at him.” Lucas said. 

“Lucas!” Mike jumped. “You can’t do that, we-” 

“I know, I know, but he acted really weird. He backed up-” 

“Yeah, people do that when light shows up in their face.” 

“But it was… not like that.” Lucas sighed. “It’s hard to explain. Why can’t we have better words?” 

“Because our life used to suck.” Mike said. 

“I just… can you look at Billy? See what he’s doing?” 

Mike paused. “I think so. I… can try?” 

“Do you need a picture? I don’t have one.” 

“I think I saw a picture. When El was showing me her photo album, there was some guy behind Max at the park. Does he have ginger hair and kind-of a beard?” 

“Yeah!” 

“Okay. Okay, if I focus… can you be quiet?” 

Lucas nodded, scooting back. “Good luck.” 

Mike smiled at him, then reached into his pillowcase, where he kept an emergency strip of fabric. He pulled it out, tied it around his eyes, and focused. 

Nancy rushed in, saying, “Sorry! Sorry, we’re late, we got caught up with-” 

“That’s alright.” Joyce said, looking up from the table, where she was writing something onto a notepad. She smiled at Jonathan and said, “We, um, have some stuff to go over.” 

“So do we.” Nancy immediately walked over to the fridge, glancing down. “Will’s drawings fell again, huh?” 

“What? Oh.” Joyce looked over, noticing the papers on the floor. “Yes, I- shit, I can-” 

“Watch.” Nancy knelt by the floor, picking up the magnet that had held a paper. She placed it on the fridge, and let go. 

It fell to the floor. 

Joyce narrowed her eyes, watching as Nancy tried it again, and the magnet fell again. 

“The magnets are failing.” Jonathan said, sitting across from her. “So we went to Mr Clarke, and he explained that we have a… an issue.” He straightened up, as Nancy came to sit by them, and said, “See, the magnets would be affected by an unstable electromagnetic field. The Gate, when it was open, created one of those, which is why the compasses pointed towards it.” 

“We didn’t have problems with magnets while the Gate was open.” Joyce said. 

“Which, thankfully, probably means the Gate hasn’t re-opened.” Nancy said. “Unfortunately, there is definitely something going on- and if it’s affecting these magnets, it could be stronger.” 

“There’s gotta be some huge machine.” Jonathan said. “Mr Clarke showed us an AC Device that can simulate the magnetic activity, but he said if- theoretically- this was starting to happen in town, there’d have to be a larger machine causing it. If it reached all across town, it would have to be… hugely powerful.” 

“Like, ‘billions of dollars to run, explosively dangerous’ powerful.” Nancy said, looking excited. 

Joyce’s eyes widened, and she suddenly really wished she had a cigarette. “Do you think it’s something at the Lab?” 

“I don’t know.” Nancy’s face fell a little. “We were planning on telling our bosses and getting this in the paper, but… well, they didn’t believe us about the rats, likely they’ll yell ‘female hysteria’ at me for screaming about magnets.” 

“And if I tell them, more likely than not they’ll tell me to go back to the darkroom and find some way to blame Nancy.” Jonathan squirmed slightly. 

Joyce took a deep breath. “Um. Speaking of the rats-” 

“Did you visit Ms Driscoll?” 

“Yes, me and Hopper stopped by. She was very excited that ‘those nice reporters’ thought to call the police.” 

“And?” Nancy asked. 

Joyce bit her lip. “You said you saw the crazy rat in the cage, right?” 

“Yeah, I got pictures.” Jonathan said, a sinking feeling in his chest. 

Joyce sighed. “Well. It… exploded.” 

The teenagers fell deathly silent. 

“It… what?” Nancy said. 

“We found its remains. Ms Driscoll was…” Joyce took a breath. “A bit unnerved.” 

“I should assume so.” Jonathan said. “What happened to it?” 

“We don’t know.”

Nancy took a deep breath, and then said, “We’re checking out the Lab tomorrow.” 

“Um, we have work.” Jonathan said. 

“We’ll go after work, or play hooky. I’ll say I have girl problems again, you can meet me there.” Nancy said. 

“Nancy-” 

“I’m not letting them mess with Mike’s life again.” Nancy said, very certainly. “Or anyone else’s.” She turned to Joyce. “Is the Chief here?” 

Joyce shook her head. “Max and El had to go home.” 

“Tomorrow, if he stops by your work, can you ask him to check up with Ms Driscoll? Just to make sure she’s alright, see if any rats came back.” Nancy’s eyes were focused, a plan whirring in her brain. “We’ll check out the Lab. Meet you back here in the afternoon to compare notes, to pick up the kids-” 

Almost as if on cue, the door opened, and Dustin and Will ran in. “Mom!” Will cheered, running and giving her a hug. 

Joyce beamed upon seeing her youngest son, and she hugged him back, saying, “Hey! Hey, how was the mall?” 

“It was great! Steve gives us free ice cream, but we’re not supposed to tell anyone!” Will said. 

Dustin smiled at them. “Where are the others?” 

“Um,” Joyce said, “El and Max had to go home early, and Lucas is in Mike’s room.” 

“Okay, cause we better go. We’re gonna be late home and then Steve’ll wake up late and be late to work and we’ll get yelled at.” Dustin said seriously. 

Nancy forced a smile. “Better make sure that doesn’t happen.” 

Dustin ran off, and after a minute, so did Will. 

Jonathan paused. “Should we tell them-” 

“Once we have evidence. No sense worrying them if this is just a coincidence.” Joyce said. 

“A rat blew up and magnets are going nuts and you think it’s a coincidence?” 

“We’ll figure it out, Nancy.” Jonathan assured her. “We always do.” 

Nancy sighed, and then said, “Sooner or later we’re gonna find something out too late.” 

It had gotten easier to slip into the Void in the last few months. Truthfully, Mike didn’t even need the blindfold, but it did cut down preparation time by a few minutes. He’d also gotten a bit more used to it. The coldness, the stillness, the blackness. Even the faint feel of water under his feet. 

“I’m in.” he said, then he thought very hard. “Finding Billy.” 

“Be careful.” he heard Lucas say, very distantly. 

“He can’t hurt me.” Mike shrugged. 

He walked a bit in the darkness, focusing very hard on the blurry, hazy memory he had of the photo. Would that be enough to find Max’s stepbrother? 

He thought he heard a noise behind him, and turned to see the image of a car. “There’s a car.” he said aloud, walking towards it, cocking his head. He didn’t see anybody in it. There was a California license plate, and… oh. Shit. There was a giant-ass crack in the window. 

Mike walked around the edge of the car, peering in the windows and doing his best not to touch it; he didn’t want it to vanish, like most things did when he saw them in the Void. He looked up, and realized the trunk was open. That was… strange. 

Carefully, he stepped closer to the trunk, a bit of a chill spreading through him. “Lucas?” he called. “Lucas, there’s… he’s not here, the car’s empty.” There didn’t seem to be anything in the trunk, it was as dark as the rest of the Void… 

Lucas said something, but Mike jumped and turned; there was a figure, crouching several feet away. He could see light red hair- Billy? Hopefully? 

“Hold on.” Mike walked over. What was he doing? He thought he heard another sound, and at first he assumed it was Lucas, but… no. This sounded higher. More muffled. Like a struggling woman. 

Billy said something- it might’ve been “Don’t be afraid,” but Mike wasn’t sure. 

“He’s… on the floor?” Mike said, walking up. “Talking to someone. Who’s not talking back.” 

He kept moving across the wet floor of the Void, starting to feel cold. 

“Max?” Lucas asked, scared. 

“I don’t… think…” Mike moved more, trying to get a better view. He was closer to Billy now, and he could definitely hear fear in the other, muffled voice. Like muffled screams. He knew that sound well; when one of the boys in the Lab got too loud, they’d have a gag stuck in their mouths. It was not pleasant. Clearly someone was gagged. Was Billy trying to help them? Or… 

Before he could move around the figure, Billy slowly stood up. Mike retreated a few steps, confused. The teenager before him was standing very still, almost like a statue. Once again, he tilted his head, trying to look around and see who was on the ground… 

Billy whipped around, staring, dark eyes boring into him. Mike gasped, frozen in place, as Max’s stepbrother kept staring. He couldn’t see him. He was in the Void, he couldn’t see… 

He turned more, now directly facing Mike. And then, slowly, he disappeared in a puff of smoke. 

Mike screamed, and the next thing he knew, he was ripping his blindfold off, gasping for breath and holding back horrified tears. 

“What? What happened?” Lucas leapt forwards, grabbing his hands. “Mike? Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened?” 

“He saw me.” Mike gasped. 

“What?” 

“He saw me.” Mike shut his eyes. “He saw me and he disappeared. Like… like he didn’t want me to see what he was…” He took a deep breath. “I’m going to hide in the closet.” 

“No, no.” Lucas moved his hands to Mike’s shoulders, holding him down. “You’re not hiding in the closet again, you can’t keep doing that, you’re just reminding yourself of Solitary and making it worse.” 

“I need to calm down.” 

“Then breathe. Like Nancy taught you how to do.” Lucas said. “Breathe. In and out.”

“How could he see me?” 

“I don’t know. I don’t know, but…” Lucas considered. “We’ll find out. Tomorrow, we’ll go out. Find him. You can track him?” 

“In the Void.” Mike shivered. “He… he saw…” 

“Then we’ll start with Max’s old house and go from there.” Lucas said. “Okay? We’ll find out what was going on.” 

“Someone needed help. It- it didn’t sound like Max-” 

“We’ll figure it out. Okay? Breathe.” 

Mike shut his eyes, and breathed in and out. In and out. 

They heard a door open, and Lucas said, “That’ll be my ride. Will you be okay?” 

Mike nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I… oh, shit.” 

“What?” 

Mike looked over at him, startled. “What are we going to tell El?”

[mendesho]

The Art of Discovery Part 2

A/N: Surprise! I know this took forever and a year, but it’s finally here. I hope you all enjoy it and I promise part 3 won’t take nearly as long.

Word Count: 3.5k

Link to part 1 Here

Like clockwork, he was back at the club the next week. Back at the spot where he usually sat with his usual drink and his eyes glued to the stage, waiting for her to appear.

His friends had asked him to hang out tonight, Brian insisting as they haven't spent much time together since Shawn's been on break. Shawn declined, of course. He told them he wasn't feeling that great, knowing the truth was he'd end up here. Waiting for her. Like he did most nights now.

“Why hello, stalker. You came back for me” A voice said next to him, starling him out of his thoughts.

 “Oh! Uh... hi...” He stammered. He would think after the events of last week, she'd be much easier to talk to. Yet somehow, he found it harder than ever, the image of her pressed against him making his brain go to static.

 She smiled, taking the seat next to him, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “So, I was thinking of taking the night off. How about you and I grab some food and I can get to know you better, eh?”

 His eyes widened. Was she...Was she asking him out?

 “Oh! Um... I um… yeah. Are sure you won't get in trouble?”

 She let out a laugh that sounded to Shawn like a choir of angels.

 “Oh you're so cute. I practically run this place so I can basically do what I please. Let me grab my jacket and I'll be back in a sec. Don't go anywhere, k pretty boy?”

He nodded, swallowing a gulp. He couldn't understand why this girl, this girl he barely knew, made his so God damn nervous. He was never nervous around girls. Always able to maintain his cool, but with her.. it was different.

She smiled once more, standing up from the seat and heading towards the back room.

 Shawn was lost in his thoughts. Thoughts of her. The way she smiled. The way she laughed. He wasn’t sure why he felt so weak for this girl, but there he was. 

She reappeared a moment later, pulling him out of his thoughts, as she heading back toward him with a smile.

 ‘Ready to go?”

 Shawn nodded gathering his things and headed out the door with her.

~ 

They ate at this little diner on the corner next to the club. The conversation felt natural. Like they had known each other for years rather than meeting merely a week ago.

 He learned her name was Elena, often called Ellie outside of the club.  She chose the name Electra from her favorite superhero.

 He learned that she was 22 years old, born on Valentine's Day.

 He learned she was from Winnipeg originally, but moved to Toronto after her parents kicked her out. Shawn opted to change the subject, knowing how sensitive it seemed to make her, the somber look on her face making his heart ache for her.

 She had 5 tattoos. One on her back, two on her wrist, one on her hip and one on her finger.

 He learned she was naturally brunette but she dyed it red to fit the persona she made.

 “So what about you, pretty boy? What's your story?” she said, taking a sip of her milkshake.

 Shawn wasn't really sure what to say. He didn't want to tell her who he was, in fear that she’d run away. He wasn’t ashamed of all that he had accomplished. He was very proud of it and amazed at how quickly his success came. He was afraid that if he told her, she would be scared away by it. The fans, the paps, the craziness. It was why he chose to remain single for as long as he had.

 “Well um... I'm 19, just turned. I'm from Pickering original but moved to Toronto for… school.” he said, his words not very confident.

 “Ah, you're a baby!” She said, with a laugh.

 Shawn let out a shy chuckle, scratching the back of his head.

 “I'm just messing with you, honey. What do you study in school?” She asked curiously

 “Music theory and sound engineering” He said without hesitation. It wasn't a total lie. He did want to study music theory; he just… got to skip a step.

 “Well that's awesome. You should play a song for me” She said with a sweet smile.

 “”Um, sure! I'd love to”

~

 He walked her home that night, still talking about their life. Their family, their friends.

 “So tell me, stalker. Do you have a girlfriend?” She asked

 Shawn shook his head, the thought of Lauren flashing quickly through his mind. “Not anymore, no”

 “Anymore?” Ellie asked, eyes looking at him quizzically

 “Yeah, we uh... just didn't work. No one’s fault really, but it's been a few months now” Shawn said with a nod.

 “Fair enough” She said

 “What about you?” Shawn asked. He felt a little uncomfortable prying like that, knowing he wasn't just asking to make small talk. He needed to know if she was taken. Needed to know if he could really have her the way he wanted.

 She shook her head, relief washing over him. “Nope, not in a while at least. Last guy really fucked me up so I've been kind of guarded for a while. Just focusing on work”

 “I'm sorry to hear that” Shawn said, a hint of sadness in his voice.

 “It happens. You just gotta roll with the punches and come out on top” She said with a smile. “This is me”

 They stood in front of a small brownstone building that looked like it hadn't been maintained in years.

 “Thanks for walking me home” She said with a smile.

 “Thanks for inviting me out to dinner”

 She smiled at him again, eyes glancing down to his lips for only a second.

 “Would you... like to come inside?” She asked.

 His heart felt like it wanted to leap out of his chest. Going inside. Seeing where she lived.

 The image of her pressed against a wall under him, her moans filling his ears.

 He had to shake the thought from his head. He just met her. As bad as he wanted her, as much as the thought of her pressed against him made his knees go weak, he had to respect that.

 “I would love to but… I think we should wait... maybe... get to know each other more?” His words sounded more like a question. Like he was trying to convince himself more than her

 “Handsome and a gentleman. How did I get so lucky to have a stalker like you?” She said with a sarcastic smile. “Alright then, pretty boy. I'll see you around”

 And with that, she opened the door and walked inside, turning around at him to smile once more before closing it behind her, disappearing behind the large wooden frame.

 He took a deep breath, wiping his face as the cold air stung his cheeks. He almost wanted to turn around, grab her by the hair and take her right there.

 He didn't know what came over him, why he was such a wreck for this girl. He shook his head again, turning to walk away.

~

 It was another night of him imagining her pressed into the bed, the feeling of her nails digging into his shoulder. The feeling of her soft skin on his lips and her sweet taste on his tongue.

 Another night of him seeking desperate relief from his desire.

 Another night of him wishing she was doing this instead of him doing it himself.

~

 He wanted to see her today. The problem was it was her day off. He tried to reason with himself if it would be too forward to show up at her house. Would that really make him a stalker?

 Before he could process his fears, he was already buzzing the door, hoping she would answer.

 “Hello?” A voice came over the intercom. A silky sweet voice that made his heat flutters.

 “Hey um… it’s your stalker” he said with a light laugh, hoping not to alert any of the passersby with his joke.

 “Hey stalker! I was just headed out. I'll come down” She said before the line went dead.

 He stood nervously chewing his lip, hands clutching the two warm lattes. He hoped she liked mocha.

 “Hey there, pretty boy” Her bubbly voice came, breaking him from his own nerves.

 He offered a bright smile at her. She was dressed in simple jeans and a rolling stones shirt with ballet flats. It was the most comfortable he'd seen her and somehow the most stunning.

 “I uh, got you a mocha latte.” He said, handing it to her.

 Her eyes beamed and she smiled, the crinkles by her eyes causing a flutter in the pit of Shawn's stomach.

 “My favorite! Thank you” She said, taking it from him, her fingertips brushing the back of his hand.

 She placed the cup to her lips, taking a sip and Shawn watched her the whole time. He felt like a proper creep, watching this girl sip her drink and his eyes never leaving her lips. He quickly averted his eyes back to hers.

 “So I’m assuming you didn't come all the way her just to bring me coffee. So, what can I do for you, pretty boy?” She said with a charmingly devilish smile.

 “Well... if you aren't too busy, I was wondering if I could take you to breakfast” Shawn said, shifting his weight from leg to leg, trying to quell his nerves.

 “I like food. Let's do it!” She said with a smile.

 Shawn smiled back, waves of relief washing over him like a warm beam of the sun breaking away the cold winter air.

 “Let's do it” He repeated with a smile.

~

 It was a nice breakfast they had together. It was strangely intimate, with the stolen looks and hidden smiles. Shawn felt like a mad man, the way he stared at her, taking every inch of her face in. Like if he looked away, he'd forget what she looked like.

 She sat back in the booth they shared, placing her hand dramatically on her stomach.

 “Ugh, I'm stuffed. This was amazing” She said with a smile.

 “I'm glad. Thank you for joining me.” Shawn said

 “Mm, I'm always down for free food haha” She laughed

 “What makes you think it's free?” Shawn said jokingly

 “Woooow, take a lady out and then expect her to pay? Guess you aren't such a gentleman after all” She said with a chuckle.

 Shawn smiled again, shaking his head. Her laugh was like music to him. He could write a whole album about her laugh.

~

 It had been a week since their breakfast date. Shawn made sure to get her number and they had been texting basically non-stop, less when she was working and he was at the studio.

 He sat in the usual spot, waiting for her to come out for her set. He felt less nervous now, being that he got to see a deeper side of her. A human side.

 He still couldn't help the sweaty palms that persisted as he thought about what her outfit might be for the set. How she would move. What she would do. He was still so wrecked by her and he hadn't even touched her. Not really.

 Soon the lights went low and the DJ came over the speaker to introduce her. She walked out, a seductive grin on her face.

 Her eyes scanned the crowd and immediately landed on him. Her smile shifted only briefly, showing a genuine smile of excitement. Excitement to see him.

 Her set started and she began to sway her hips, hands roaming up and down her body as she moved to the rhythm. She flipped her hair, long fingers gripping the cool metal of the pole, her body sliding down. She uses her strength to lift herself up, spinning around the pole like she belonged in Cirque du Soleil.

 Shawn watched her in awe. Not only was she incredibly beautiful, the way she moved was magic. Like a feather in the wind, drifting across the landscape.

 Before long, she removed the short white dress she had on, only covered by a light pink thong. She made her way off the stage, Shawn's eyes following her till she stood in front of him, eyes seductive and mysterious.

 She slung a leg on his lap, swaying her hips in front of him.

 He stopped himself from touching her and could feel the eyes of everyone in the building on him. He burned a bright red, but all he could see was her. This angel in front of him. Giving him all of her attention.

 She grinded on him, hips still moving in sync with the music, and her head thrown back as she moved. If there weren’t so many people, he'd take her right there.

 She got up from his lap, offering a wink before moving on to another guy sitting at the table next to him.

 He could feel his fist clench as the man grabbed her hips. She was his. He should be the one touching her. The only one.

 Her dancing on the man felt like it lasted an eternity instead of the brief moment it actually lasted, Shawn's eyes following her movements the entire time.

 Her set was over after that. Shawn could feel his heart pounding and his blood racing. He couldn't take it anymore.

 He had to have her.

~

 Before he could stop himself, went behind the curtain to find her. Determination courses through his veins.

 He had to find her.

 He saw her through the door of dressing room. With a deep breath and his mind in a haze, he made his way to the room, closing the door behind him.

 She turned, startled. When she saw it was him, she breathed a sigh of relief. She only had her bra and underwear on and Shawn held a breath as he stared over her body. He probably looked like a mad man with the way his eyes were wide and his mouth agape.

 “God, you scared me. Are you alright?” She asked, head cocked quizzically at him.

 He couldn't find the words. The only thing in his brain was her. Her body. Her smile. Her seductive looks.

 Just her.

 He couldn't stop himself. He barely felt his body move but somehow, he had her pressed against the wall, his lips crashing on hers as his hands made their way from her hips to her wrists, pinning them above her head.

 She didn't fight, the surprise lasting for a second before melting into his touch, her hips pushing towards his and soft moans falling from him lips into his.

 He was drunk on her. The desire for her he'd been holding back for weeks now flooding his body. The dark urge to tear her apart coursing through his body.

 He wanted to make her scream. He wanted to make her beg. He wanted to wreck her. Just as much as she had done to him without even touching him.

 He pulled back for a moment, studying her face. Looking for a sign to stop. That he'd gone too far.

 Her lips were puffy and her skin was flushed, her chest rising and falling. She squirmed against him, adjusting his grip on her wrist.

 She stared in his eyes, her own eyes dark and filled with desire. She pushed her hips into his, grinding against him. He bit his lip, letting out a groan, tightening his grips on her wrists.

 He stopped thinking, letting his body take control. He knew what he wanted. What he needed.

 He needed her.

 He released one of her wrists, easily gripping both in one hand. He moved his free hand down her body, pulling the cups of the bra down, exposing her breasts. He stared at her in awe, drinking in her body. She was even more stunning up close. Her skin soft and warm, her rapid breathing ghosting over his face. It was almost too much for him.

 He moved his hand lower, teasing the wet fabric of her underwear. He was having an internal battle in his mind. Unsure whether to take it slow. Savor this moment. Drink in her body. Or if he wanted to fuck her. Fuck her until she screams. Until she begs. Fuck her until everyone in the club knew his name. The person who was making her feel pleasure.

 She moaned as his fingers played with her. Teasing her. He could practically feel her dripping in his hand and it only made his animalistic side stronger.

 It was a side he knew was there, but never explored. A side he kept hidden away. He was always a gentle lover. Always taking his time, feeling every moment. But he knew deep down, there was something more feral inside.

 He thought it made him a freak. Made him a sexual deviant. The overwhelming desire to control someone. To have them beg for you. To control every aspect of their movements and orgasm. So he locked it away, keeping it only for himself.

 But now, with her. The way she's looking at him, her chest heaving, eyes wide and lips swollen and wet. He wanted to let it out. He wanted to wreck her.

 He made the choice.

 He gripped the thin fabric of her panties, tugging them to the point that they snapped and tore, a mangled mess of purple fabric in his hand. He saw a visible shiver course through her body and her eyes flutter.

 Fuck soft. He wanted her.

 He fumbled with one hand, pulling his belt, Jean's, and boxers down and thrust into her, giving her no time to adjust.

 “Fuck!” She screamed, biting down on her lip.

 That sound. Her moans of pleasure. This only fueled him. Fueled the beast within that was finally being released.

 He hitched her leg under her thigh, wrapping it around his waist as he continued his thrusting, the loud sounds of skin on skin and her thighs against the drywall echoing through the room.

 He groaned, his lips attaching to her neck as his lips and teeth nipped at her pristine skin. He wanted to leave a reminder. A reminder about who's she was. Even if she truly wasn't.

 He felt her legs tremble against him and her begin to pulsate around him. He could feel her getting close, but he didn't want this to end.

 “Hold it” He growled in her ear, gripping her wrists tighter.

 She nodded, her breathing becoming erratic. She swallowed hard, trying to focus on keeping herself together. Her eyes were shut tight and Shawn almost came just from the sight of her. How she was already wrecked for him and they had barely just started.

 He released her wrist, her other leg up on his waist, now the only thing supporting her weight other than the wall. He continued to fuck into her, fast and rough. This was better than any fantasy. Any dream that he could imagine. Better than all the nights he spent alone dreaming of this. Feeling her wet heat around him. How responsive she was. The way her moans sounded. The way her skin felt. This was better than anything. Than anyone he's had before.

 He felt her begin to tremble again, her breathing more rapid and her nails gripping into his shoulder.

 “F-fuck.. I..” She moaned, ”C-choke me”

 He groaned at her words, obliging immediately. His hand found her throat, and pressing on her pulse, being sure not to press too hard on her windpipe. He squeeze and released, repeating the actions again and again.

 She struggled to gasp, her trembling becoming greater. Soon she was coming undone around him, her orgasm racking her body and her raspy screams filling the air.

 Shawn felt his own orgasm creep on him, groaning loudly as he spilled into her, his hands still gripping her throat. He felt her pulse beneath his fingertips, the rapid beating of her heart. He rested his head on her shoulder, his legs barely keeping him upright.

 He stood there, still inside her. He breathing slowly becoming more normalized as the rational part of his brain took control again.

 What had he just done?

 He lifted his head, looking her in the eyes, the worry present on his face. Maybe he crossed a line. Maybe he should have stopped himself.

 She smiled at him, releasing her legs from around him and stumbling as she tried to gain her footing

 “Wow, pretty boy” She breathed, her hands still gripping his shoulder, supporting herself. “What did I do to deserve that kind of greeting”

 He couldn't help but let out a chuckle. He felt a little self-conscious now.

 “I'm sorry I just-” he started, but she cut him off, placing a finger over his lips.

 “Hush. How about you let me get changed and you can walk me home. Maybe even show me some more of your tricks?” She smirked

 He nodded, feeling a twitch in his dick at the thought of being inside her again. Feeling her around him again.

 She smiled, placing a soft kiss on his lips before pushing him back.

 He pulled his pants up quickly, grabbing her again and pulling her into a fierce kiss. She melted into him, her hands tangling in his hair.

 He pulled back after a moment, a smile creeping on his face.

 She smiled back before pushing him toward the door “Go before someone gets suspicious”

 He nodded again, making his way out the room and into the main room of the club and out the front, the smile not leaving his face the entire time.

[jennycalendar]

imperfections (63/?)

read it on ao3!

everyone continues to deal with what happened to giles. also, willow comes out to oz.

Buffy ended up spending the night in what was probably going to end up being Willow’s bedroom, along with Faith, Xander, two air mattresses, and a whole mess of blankets that Ms. Calendar had brought of for all of them. “Let me know if you need anything,” she said for the seventeenth time, “just—uh—page me, or something, and I can bring it up—”

“You really don’t want us to go downstairs, huh?” said Faith innocently. “Anything you and Giles planning on getting up to?”

Ms. Calendar gave Faith a Look, then said, “Does anyone in this room really want to know the answer to that question? No? Okay. Beep me if you want snacks,” and she headed out of the room.

“So wait, are they getting married?” asked Xander, who was already making himself a nest in one of the piles of blankets.

“Think so,” said Faith seriously. “They’re all domestic already—it was bound to happen.”

“I don’t know,” said Willow thoughtfully. “I think maybe they’re good as they are.”

“Well, they’ll tell us if they do, right?” said Buffy, who mostly wanted to get some actual sleep. There had been a lot of good parts about today, but the image of Giles, throat cut, was still fresh and hurting in her brain. It felt weird to be gossiping about Giles and Ms. Calendar when today could have been them all talking in sad voices about poor Ms. Calendar, she and Giles didn’t even get five years together, they’ll never get to get married and have babies and live happily ever after—

Faith bumped her shoulder, a tilt to her head that suggested she knew where Buffy’s head was at. Which made sense, Buffy realized, because Faith’s Watcher really had been killed. “Ease up, Buffy,” she said gently. “We’ve got a lot to be happy about, right?”

Buffy tried to smile, and wasn’t sure if she managed it. “I think I’m just tired,” she said, emphasizing her point by flopping back onto the air mattress.

Faith flopped down next to her. Tentatively, her shoulder just barely touching Buffy’s, she said, “Can I—” and moved a little closer.

In answer, Buffy rolled onto her side and draped an arm over Faith’s stomach. Faith smelled nice, like citrus soap and clean linen, and Buffy didn’t have to hold back her Slayer strength as she snuggled closer to her. “Okay,” she whispered, and thought, maybe I’ll sleep a little better tonight. “Will you still be here when I wake up?”

“This is my house, B,” said Faith, which made Willow and Xander stifle giggles.

Buffy grinned a little into Faith’s shoulder. “So that’s a yes?”

Faith didn’t answer for a few seconds, waiting for Willow and Xander to stop giggling. Then, very quietly, and only for Buffy to hear, she said, “That’s definitely a yes.”  

Giles fell asleep content and warm, curled in Jenny’s arms with her hand stroking his hair. He had expected this warmth to carry into his dreams, but instead, he was brought back to that dark, dank boardinghouse, Kralik watching him from across the room. And it was so much worse than the dull pain of the knife, because he knew it was coming, but he was trapped, trapped, thinking only of Jenny and the children and all he would lose—

“Rupert, Rupert!” Jenny was saying, and Giles jerked awake, heart pounding and tears in his eyes. “Babe—honey—” She was pressing kisses to the top of his head, her arms tight around him—protective, not constrictive—as she murmured soothing words into his hair. “You’re here,” she was saying. “You’re with me. Stabber of Council goons, remember? That’s the lady you’re gonna be spending the rest of your life with, and she is not going to let anything happen to you. Not ever again.”

Giles hadn’t been comforted in…

Giles hadn’t been comforted. Ever. And the realization was flooring to him. Perhaps in childhood, but those memories were hazy and unfocused, nothing substantial enough to believe. In his teens he was too old, and Ethan, fierce and passionate as he was, had never been one to comfort, and then he had been alone and then he’d met Jenny and—

He curled his face into her neck. She smelled like home.

I love you, he thought, too far gone to remember his worries about Jenny and one-way telepathic broadcast spells. The words were running together in his mind, and he couldn’t whisper them back to her, but she had to know. I love you I love you I love you I love you—

Jenny gasped, and for a moment, Giles was brought back to himself. Just as the self-doubt was settling in, he heard Jenny’s voice in return, in the back of his head, shaky and unsteady—One-way telepathy spell, huh?

Giles raised amused eyes to look at her; of course she’d know the rudimentary basics of establishing magical connections. But then he was looking at her, and her eyes were so full of love, and all he wanted to do was stay in this moment forever. He had never been looked at so tenderly before. Not by someone like her.

I love you, he thought again.

In answer, Jenny kissed him, then let him curl back into her. “Go to sleep, okay?” she whispered. “I’ll be here if it gets bad again.”

But Giles couldn’t quite fall asleep again, not when he felt…he wasn’t sure how to define it. Safe, perhaps. Loved. It struck him as odd, that he had never realized his calling’s effect on him; the absence of fear and loneliness left him feeling rather off balance. Up until now, he hadn’t ever really believed that Jenny would be with him for longer than a few years at most, and the realization that she was choosing to be with him permanently was flooring.

He waited until she was asleep, her breathing soft and familiar to him, and then he kissed her shoulder and carefully removed himself from her arms—not for long, just to walk about and clear his mind a bit. Slipping out of their bedroom, Giles was halfway to the landing when he saw someone else on the stairs.

Faith looked up, surprised. “Needed to use the bathroom,” she said. “What’re you doing up?”

Giles opened his mouth to answer, remembered his predicament yet again, and winced, pointing to the bandage on his throat.

“Oh,” said Faith, and gave him a sheepish grin. “Sorry.”

Giles shrugged, smiling a bit. And then he took another look at Faith, a new look at Faith, and remembered the biting, guarded girl who had entered the library all those months ago.

Faith seemed to sense that there was something going on in Giles’s head, because she stopped, looking right back at him. Then, returning his smile with a lopsided grin of her own, she said, “You look happy.”

Giles inclined his head a little. So do you, he thought, but it wasn’t something he needed Faith to hear right then. She most likely already knew it, anyway.

Everybody had breakfast in the actual dining room the next morning, which was a pretty cool step up from being crowded around the kitchen table. Giles made everybody French toast, and he and Jenny were really cute, and Faith and Buffy were really cute, and all the couple-y antics were starting to make Willow feel really antsy about coming out to Oz.

“You’ll be okay, Will,” Xander reassured her.

“Would you say that if you were going to come out to Cordelia?” Willow shot back, twisting her napkin.

Xander considered the question. Then he said, “Well, it still means I want to make out with her, so I don’t think she’d mind as much as Oz might.”

“Xander, that isn’t helpful,” said Jenny, who was stealing food off of Giles’s plate. “Rupert, stop blocking my fork, I swear to god—”

“Hey, I came out,” said Faith, gently bumping Willow’s shoulder. “To Jen. And it was scary as fuck, but I promise you’ll feel better once it’s over. Oz is a cool dude, remember? He’ll get it.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Willow persisted.

Then he is the least cool of dudes, read Giles’s pad. Least was underlined three times, which made Buffy and Jenny both start laughing.

Weirdly, though, that made Willow feel better about the whole thing. Because Oz was cool, and kind, and honestly one of the best people she knew. She liked him a whole bunch, and she liked knowing he liked her too, but apparently that wasn’t really what romance was about. Which made sense, now that she was looking at how snuggly Buffy and Faith were getting all the time. She could understand wanting to get snuggly with a soft, sweet blonde.

“Thanks, Giles,” she said shyly. Giles gave her a little grin, then went back to trying to wrest his French toast away from Jenny. Willow wasn’t super hungry, so she added, “Jenny, you can have my French toast if you want—”

“It’s the thrill of the chase,” said Jenny very seriously.

“You are setting such a bad example for us kids,” Xander informed her, then stole two slices of French toast from Jenny’s plate.

As breakfast proceeded to transition into a giggly battleground, Willow left the table with one last nervous glance over her shoulder. Giles gave her a little thumbs-up, Buffy beamed at her, and Jenny (still trying to get her food back from Xander) just gave Willow one of those I-Know-You’re-Scared-But-I’m-Really-Proud-Of-You looks.

Willow felt buoyed by this, a little, and headed out of the dining room, stepping into her shoes at the door. Then she opened it, very ready to head off in the direction of—

Oz.

Was waiting on the front porch.

“Hey,” he said. He looked a little worried. “You weren’t at school yesterday. I was just about to ring the doorbell.”

“What?” Willow squeaked, heart in her throat. “Oh! Uh, Giles got his throat cut, but it’s all fine! I mean, about as fine as throat-cutting can be, but Jenny’s taking care of it—um, she said I could call her Jenny—also I think she and Giles are getting married? It’s super hard to tell right now, but she did kinda propose to him—”

Oz held up a hand, eyes all soft in that sweetly Oz way, and then took Willow’s hands in his. And maybe this was why it had taken Willow so long to figure out she was gay: because Oz was so nice about things. Not nice in that boy-way, where you know they’re just being nice because they want to kiss you; Xander had been like that with Buffy a few years ago. Oz was always nice to Willow because she was Willow, even back when she wasn’t sure she wanted to date anybody, and it had left her with a warm, fluttery feeling that was the closest to love she’d thought she could feel. “You okay?” he asked gently.

Willow made a face. “You’re gonna hate me,” she said nervously.

“Not gonna happen,” said Oz, and squeezed her hands. “What’s up?”

“Um, I’m.” Willow swallowed, tears in her eyes. She almost didn’t want to say it. She almost wanted to stay like this, with Oz, her sweet, perfect high school boyfriend, her life the way she’d always daydreamed about it being.

Almost was the key word here.

“I’m gay,” said Willow timidly. “As in lesbian. As in—”

And without saying anything, Oz pulled Willow into a hug. Just like that. Like he got how hard it was for Willow to say this stuff, because of course he did, because he was Oz. Because he got her. Willow sniffled, then started to cry again, because she’d been half-expecting him to just stare at her, or worse, glare at her, but he was hugging her like nothing had changed.

“You’re still the same old Willow, though, right?” Oz said into her shoulder. “No horns? No fangs?”

Willow giggled. “None of those things,” she said, hugging him back.

“So I think we’re good,” said Oz, and pulled back. He looked a little sad, but that seemed to be about it.

“You’re not freaking out?” Willow asked, sniffling again.

“Maybe a little,” said Oz thoughtfully. “But not because you’re gay. I really love you, Willow, and if we’re just friends, we’re just friends. I might just have to start getting myself used to that.”

“I really love you too,” said Willow, her face trembling. “I really wish I could love you like a—”

“Stop,” said Oz, gentle and firm all in one. “You love me just right, ‘cause it’s everything you feel happy giving me. And a happy Willow is way more important to me than Willow-kissing.”

Willow gave him a smile, and it felt like the best thing in the world. “Do you wanna come in?” she said. “We’re still having breakfast, and I think there’s some French toast left—”

Oz looked touched. “Sure,” he said, and followed Willow inside.

[djinmer4]

Lord of the Rings (Ultimate AU)

“Hey, do you remember this?”  Kurt typed in a few commands in the Danger Room control center and the room shifted into a lush temperate forest.  Kitty looked around.  She patted a few trees, scuffed the ground underneath her and dipped one hand in the water.  “Everything looks good,” she said.  “The updates pushed through fine.  And no, I don’t remember this?  Should I?”

Kurt teleported out, leaving the control room empty.  Kitty had a brief image of Jamie freaking out, reminding them to always have a spotter.  The German bamfed in front of her, dressed in a cosplay outfit.  “Fair Kitten, the dragon will not breathe another breath of hellfire as long as your trusted Legolas-”

“Oh, this scenario,” Kitty sighed.  It had been a long time since they’ve done this before she had even gotten together with Peter.  Back when Piotr and Kurt had still been friends.

“No nostalgia for you?”

“I’ve always liked Eowyn more than Arwen.  The films haven’t changed my opinion.”

“Is that why you didn’t want to be rescued?”

“No, I didn’t want to be rescued because I had a lot of homework that evening.  Aaannddd I don’t like being a damsel in distress.  I’d rather rescue myself.”

“Oh.”  He fiddled with the bow and arrows he had brought.

“Don’t let me stop you if you want to play.  I’ll watch from the control room.”

“But it’s pointless if you’re not here.”

“Kurt . . . “

“I know.  I’m sorry.  It’s just . . . I wondered if we could go back to those days.  Before I screwed everything up.”

“We can’t.  Time moves in one direction only and without the knowledge we have today, we wouldn’t do anything different so it wouldn’t be worth it.”  She settled on an illusionary stump.  “Why this scenario in particular?”

“Oh, um, when Piotr and I came up with it, it was an attempt at getting you to like me.”

She stared at him but he wouldn’t meet her eyes.  “You were trying to woo me by rescuing me from a fake dragon?”

“Umwerben?  Freien?  Is that what ‘woo’ means?”

“’Woo’ means to court someone.  To make someone partial to something or someone.”

“I guess so.  It clearly didn’t work but I thought there was some hope.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Well, you did call me cute when you left.  Piotr said that cute is good.”

“I suspect I was being sarcastic at the time.”  She stretched hands over her head and back arching.  “It wasn’t a bad idea.  But it was bad timing on your part.  I might have played along then if I didn’t have something more urgent to do.”

“You have some free time now.”

“You really want to get me in that stupid corseted dress, don’t you?”

“Well, you did look very good in it.”  He peeked at her from the side of his eyes (not that anyone would be able to tell).

“I don’t know about that.  That dress was itchy and uncomfortable.”

“Would it help if it’s not the same dress?”

She turned to look at him fully.  “Why are you so bound and determined about this?”

“It can’t be because I want to be a better person?”

“That wouldn’t explain why you feel the need to seek out my company all the time.  It’s one thing to make things up to Piotr and Alison.  I’m not one of the people you harmed.”

“I couldn’t stand the thought of you being out of my life. I just had to have you. You can understand my reasoning for that right?”

“No, not really.”  

“Let me put it this way.  We were friends before.  You’re one of the only people who are still willing to be friends with me.  And I’m in love with you.”

“I’m having a hard time believing it.”  Kitty sighed.  “I don’t want to think about this right now.  Give me the dress, but I’ll be damned if I stand in one place while you get to slay the dragon.”

The blue dress was easier to move in than that white frock.

“I think you set the difficulty too high.”

“Nein, nein.  I’ve got this,” panted Kurt, teleporting away from the dragon’s fiery breath.  “Just give me a few seconds to get in the right position . . . “

Kitty flinched as another blast went past her, just missing the pole she was tied to.  “Please hurry, it’s getting awfully warm in this pit!”

“Phase out then!”

“I can’t!  Your stupid orcs used adamantium chains to tie me up!”

Kurt absent-mindedly made a note that apparently Excalibur-Britain had adamantium chains as part of its inventory.  Learn something new every day.

He bamfed over the dragon’s head and tried to slice through his neck.  The sword rebounded of its scales and he was sent into an uncontrolled spin.  A quick teleport got him down on the ground and he rolled to a stop at Kitty’s feet.  “Great work, Legolas.”  She commented dryly.  “Now how are you going to kill that thing?”

“Why in the tried and true method that Tolkien’s dragon slayers used!”  He pulled out his bow.  The dragon opened its mouth and inhaled.  Carefully aiming, Kurt fired an arrow into the dragon’s mouth.  Or rather he tried to.  Of all the armaments Weapon XVII had ever mastered, bow and arrow aren’t any of them.  The shot ended up nowhere near the dragon’s mouth.  Not at all discouraged, Kurt pulled another one from the quiver and fired again.  Closer this time.

“Kurt, now would be a good time to use the override!”

“It’s under control, Katzchen!”  Shot after shot.  Finally, one hit, not into the dragon’s mouth but its eye.  It reared back and loosed a fiery beam into the sky, clawing at its face.  Rather than try that again, Kurt turned to Kitty and freed her, carefully teleporting a few links of the chain away so she could pull loose from the pillar.  “Don’t I get a kiss, madchen?” he teased.

“Ask me that after the dragon’s dead.”  Kitty helped herself to one of his swords.  “Get me up over his head.”

“As you wish!”  Kurt teleported them over the flailing dragon.  Kitty pushed away, increasing her density as she fell.  She’d been aiming for the other eye, but an errant movement pushed her away so she settled for landing on its back and slashing its wings to shreds.  Her movements were uncoordinated but at least she knew which end was which.

Grounded, the dragon continued to howl.  Kurt, who had bamfed back to the ground after letting go of Kitty, took it upon himself to start shooting arrows at it again.  Unfortunately, even immobilized and blind in one eye, the dragon was still quite dangerous.  It growled, then bit down, taking the indigo man in one bite.

“Kurt!”

The dragon paused.  Then it convulsed, writhing around and forcing Kitty to take to the air to avoid being hit.  As the last of the death throws subsided it fell to its flank and its mouth gaped open.  Inside, Kitty could see Kurt.  He’d stabbed upward with his other sword when the dragon had chomped down on him and managed to pierce its brain.  As he crawled away from the corpse, Kitty carefully stepped down to help him up.

“I think we’ve both had enough for today.  Next time let’s do something easier, like ‘Pirates of the Carribean’.”

“I don’t think fighting a kraken would be any simpler than fighting a dragon but otherwise good point.  Computer override, schmetterling.  End program: ‘Rescue the Princess’.”

Kitty glared at him when she heard the name.  Kurt just shrugged.  “Piotr picked it out, not me.  So now that the dragon’s dead . . . “

The younger girl burst out laughing.  “Have you seen yourself?  You’re covered in dragon brains!  Go take a shower and maybe I’ll consider it.”

Kurt put up a small amount of grumbling but inside he agreed with her.  He hadn’t expected Excalibur’s Danger Room to be quite so realistic.  He’d nearly lost his grip on the sword when the dragon snapped him up and started drooling on him.  The German couldn’t wait to get clean.