#i actually had a freakout this morning when i found out she was there

[cherryflavoured7777]

k like…. my gf is so beautiful im sick

[goggles-mcgee]

Hello. I love the prompt " the commission " can we have the full story please ? How will the avengers react of the news about Hawkmoth?

The full story will come later I promise! I unleashed so many things onto myself but I have no regrets XD Though I shall share some headcanons with you guys about the AU in the mean time!

* Pepper has been a fan of MDC since she saw the designs for Penny and Jagged’s wedding attire. Her and Penny are friends and when she asked who made Penny’s dress and Jagged’s suit, Penny was all too happy to tell her and brag about Marinette and show her everything else Mari had designed for her and Jagged and others. 

* When Tony officially proposed, Pepper already knew who she wanted to make her dress. She could tell Tony was hesitant to ask MDC since she wasn’t that well known yet, but they both knew he couldn’t say no to her, so it was no surprise when she caught him looking at her website and commission prices. Later she pretended not to notice him calling Penny and asking for MDC’s email. Pepper liked to let him believe he could keep anything from her, it was the thought that counted. 

* Peter, Harley, MJ, and Ned are all excited for the wedding. Peter gets to be the flower boy which he is super happy about and Harley is the ring bearer. 

* MJ is also a fan of MDC

* The whole “Minion” squad are Jagged Stone fans. Peter’s favorite album may or may not be Rock Giant.  👀

*The Minion Squad are all off school for summer already, Marinette just started summer since it’s the beginning days of July. While the Minion Squad plans to help plan the wedding, invent, prank the Avengers, and just have some good summer fun, Marinette plans to work on her MDC commissions since she knew she would be getting a lot. Penny had given her a heads up. Besides, there wasn’t much friends she could hang out with since Luka had told her that him, his sister, and his mom planned to sail around for the summer. Anarka wantedd to get the kids out of Paris for a while. Chloe and Sabrina would be going on vacation with Chloe’s mom to Milan for two weeks and then to New York for a month so Chloe could see her mother’s business and get a feel of it and see if it is something she would want to take over. Kagami and her mother would also be leaving Paris to visit family in Japan. The only ones she would be able to hang out with would be Alix, Nathaniel, and Marc. 

* Then she gets the email from Tony. Freaking. Stark! She nearly faints! Okay. She faints. He actually wants Marinette to design and make his and Pepper Potts wedding attire!!! His email said that he would house her and her team for however long she needed for the consulting period and the beginning work of the outfits. Okay actually it said till the outfits were done but she would discuss that with him and Pepper when she got there because wedding dresses typically took 6-9 months to make. She figured she had time as he did specify they were planning a December wedding of next year, something about it being a Christmas present. 

* After she talks it over with her parents, she responds to Tony that she would love to design and make his and Pepper’s wedding attire but before the discuss anything further she would like for them to video chat. Tony agrees later that day, which is more than enough time for Marinette to set up at Jagged and Penny’s house, they officially bought a house in Paris yes, along with her mother and father so they could talk everything over with Mr. Stark. When the camera connects, Tony swears he must be rebooting because he did not think that MDC was a 16 year old girl, but he adapts quickly and understands now why she wanted to discuss the arrangement more.

* Tom and Sabine are even more delighted and on board on sending Marinette to New York when Tony offers to let her stay in Stark Tower/Avengers Tower with the heroes and his Minions. Marinette of course asks if she can bring some friends, they’re not officially her team but she would feel better having them there with her. Of course Tony agrees because he could practically hear Pepper scold him if he said no and they continue to set everything up while Marinette calls up Alix, Marc and Nathaniel and ask if they want to go with her to New York to go to the Avengers Tower. It takes too long in her opinion to convince them that no. she’s not joking, and yes she is serious. 

* Once they get their parents permission they plan to leave on Saturday which would be in two days. It’s a little hectic, especially because Marinette didn’t know if she should take the Miracle Box or not but in the end she decides to leave it with her mom and dad, aka the new Turtle and Fox heroes of Paris. They had found out she was Ladybug a little after she had become the Guardian because she had broken down. Everything had become too much for her and Tikki couldn’t stand to see her chosen like that so she told Tom and Sabine that their daughter was Ladybug. 

* Marinette was going to take the Horse, Mouse, and of course, Ladybug Miraculous, to New York though. Her mom promised that she would text her or call her as soon as she could if they spotted or heard an akuma, and that they would fight it off until she got there. 

* When Marinette and her friends get to New York and meet Tony, he can tell they’ve fought in a fight children shouldn’t have to, but he doesn’t know how to ask about it so he pushes it back till he can think of a way to approach the subject. He immediately takes a liking to Marinette, he can tell she’s smart for her age, and he just likes her energy. 

* Then Tony introduces them to his Minions and Peter, Ned, and Harley all have a collective freakout because they are meeting THE MDC. MJ is, of course, happy too but she can at least keep her cool when meeting the designer who made Jagged Stone’s iconic Eiffel Tower sunglasses, the one who designed his Rock Giant album art, and the one who made his Roaring Dragon Jacket! Peter asks Marinette if she can sign his copy of the album and Tony thinks it’s all down hill from there. He can see the kid’s blush from across the room. 

* The consultation happens and Pepper is just as surprised as Tony was when she learns MDC is only 16 but she hides it fairly well. Both are pleasantly surprised by Marinette’s professionalism and are pleased with the overall talk about what they want out of the design. Tony even manages to squeeze in another suit for Peter because he knows the kid and he is not letting him wear a rented tux to his wedding. 

* Tony and Pepper have dinner with the kids and the Minions and it’s decided that they can stay for the summer, and no Pepper don’t look at Tony like that it’s not because he’s trying to help Peter get a date for the wedding.

* Then Marinette meets the Avengers. Thor loves her, but like who doesn’t Thor love? And who doesn’t love Thor? She is super interested in learning about Asgard, especially its fashion and she even talks Thor into giving her some fabric samples to work with. He just loves her enthusiasm and he appreciates her letting him talk about his home and his people. Marc and Nathaniel get a great picture of the two of them sitting on Thor’s flexed arms. Marc also loves to hear about Thor’s home and people and Nathaniel loves to draw him and those he talks about. 

Natasha accidentally sneaks up on Marinette, she never means to do it, it is just how she is, so when this little girl turns around in a flash with a pencil held in her fist as a weapon her eyes narrowed looking for the danger, she is suprised and has to stop her own reflexes from sweeping the girls legs from under her. She respects Marinette’s reflexes and the two spar and Marinette tells her she used to do ballet when Natasha asks her why her turns and spins almost seem like she’s doing a dance and Natasha’s eyes light up. The two bond over ballet 

Bucky, Clint, and Steve meet her one morning when they go to the kitchen and find so many goodies to eat and see this tiny little girl singing to herself as she pulls muffins out of the oven. She turns to them and smiles and says good morning before introducing herself so they do as well. When Steve introduces himself her eyes narrow and she hisses out, “YOU.” He’s so confused until she starts tearing into him about him hero suit. Bucky and Clint of course love this moment and will cherish it forever. 

She meets Bruce and he’s heard of this little terror from Steve and he’s thinking she’s going to tear into Hulk about wearing only shorts but then she’s shaking his hand and saying it’s an honor to meet you Dr. Banner, apparently she’s read some of his papers. And Bruce can’t help but smile for the rest of the day. 

When Wanda meets her she just hugs the little girl for a while because she hadn’t meant to see how her ex friends had treated her back in Paris but she did and this child needed a hug. Marinette had just been asking what material her jacket was made out of so they had touched briefly, then she was being hugged, but she didn’t mind, she figured maybe Wanda was having an off day and needed a hug.

Vision had just looked at Marinette and said, “Miraculous.” nobody knew what he meant but Marinette did and she just put a finger to her lips with her eyes wide with panic. Thankfully he got what she was trying to say and gave her a nod and small smile. 

Tony said there was more people for her to meet but she would have the whole summer to do that so she was content. 

* Then the first akuma alert went off when they were there in New York. Marinette thought everyone was sleeping when she created the portal and leapt through...she didn’t know how wrong she was. 

[rosalielesbianhale]

The human Jacob AU that no one asked for but I can’t  stop thinking about

° The books are the same up to the movie theatre with Mike and Jake (except there are no mentions of Sam’s “gang” because it isn’t a thing, Embry is still hanging out with Jacob and Quil, Jake isn’t afraid he’s next)

° Jacob and Bella have a little laugh at Mike’s expense but make sure he gets home safe.

° Jacob doesn’t get “mono” and drop off the face of the earth, he and Bella just keep getting closer.

° and so, Jacob is with her when she find the meadow and Laurent finds her

° in my version of events Laurent did not decide to suddenly side with Victoria because that makes absolutely no sense. He had no trouble ditching her and James in the first book and has supposedly found a partner in Irina who is friends with the Cullens so why would he be doing Victoria a favour and scouting the area?? make it make sense.

° no, instead, Victoria located him and started asking questions about the Cullens and he, trying to dissuade her from going against them, tells her what he’s learned about them since coming to stay with the Denalis. Alice’s visions, Edward’s mind reading, he lets it all slip in the ernest belief she’ll decide it isn’t worth going after Bella, after all evasion is her heightened power; she should cut her losses and run.

° after talking to Victoria, Laurent decides to warn the Cullens, he has a bad feeling after their talk and suspects she won’t give up so easily.

° he finds the house empty which is peculiar, they seemed so invested in this little human and who do you think he runs across in the meadow but that very human accompanied by a friend.

° he tells her about his talk with Victoria but there is a menacing undertone to everything he says. He is trying not to kill humans for Irena’s sake but as his eyes can attest to, he’s had some slip ups, and, really, she does smell delicious. If she is no longer under the Cullen’s protection then there would really be very little harm in draining her and there’s only one witness to take care off. It might even be a mercy because if Victoria gets her hands on her she would not make it quick, he’d do it as painlessly as possible.

° all of this is said aloud because the reader has no insight into Laurent’s mind otherwise and he seems like a person who’s inclined to give the occasional monologue

° he tells her to run, before he changes his mind

° meanwhile, Jacob is freaking the fuck out. As soon as they reach the road Bella guns it for her truck while Jacob just keeps up a continuous stream of “what the fuck. what the fuck. what the actual fuck. they’re actually fucking vampires? what the fuck. oh, god, dad was right. What The Fuck.”

° after that the whole story comes out, how Jacob was actually the person who helped her figure it out, how she had envisioned spending eternity with Edward and how, now that he’s gone, she hasn’t just been robbed of the person she loves but of what she had come to accept as her future. She has never been able to confide in anyone about the whole story so she tells him everything, right down to what actually happened when she got injured in Phoenix. It’s not like they’re coming back, it doesn’t matter if she tells Jacob.

° Jacob is understandably on overload, Bella drives him home and he says he needs some time.

° this is when Bella starts trying to reach Jacob but he’s unreachable. He’s processing a tremendous amount of information and needs some time away from the madness of Bella’s life.

° Bella starts to get restless. Jacob isn’t talking to her, she feels isolated and she needs to see Edward. She jumps off the cliff.

° I kind of want Sam to be the one who sees her jump and who fishes her out of the water tbh. He doesn’t have Charlie’s number so he calls Jacob’s house.

° Jacob promptly freaks out.

° he brings Bella home, Harry Clearwater has had a heart attack.

° Jacob is frightened for Bella after her jump but he also needs to be there for his dad right now and Seth is so young, Leah seems different after she lost her dad too. He needs to be there for them.

° There’s also the fact that the girl he’s in love with is in love with a vampire but staying away from Bella did not give him the clarity he’d hoped for. It’s still a mess.

° Alice arrives, she doesn’t need blind spots in her visions to go and knock some sense into Bella. Yes, she’s alive this time but she saw her voluntarily jump off a cliff into a raging ocean. Before she left she was a mess talking about how Bella tried to commit suicide and she had to go ensure she wouldn’t attempt it a second time.

° When Jacob rolls up to the house and sees Alice there it feels as though his insides have turned to ice. Are they all back? Is he losing Bella before he ever really got to tell her how he feels?

° Alice leaves to let Bella explain the situation. She tells him only Alice is back and why she came to visit.

° Jacob is a mess, this whole thing is a mess, but he’s left with the feeling that he had when he saw Alice was there. He needs to tell Bella how he feels.

° They have the almost kiss in the kitchen. Jacob is still dumb enough to answer the phone in someone else’s house, he still tells Edward that Charlie’s at the funeral.

° Alice returns, frantic. They have to leave for Volterra. However, Jacob doesn’t basically beg Bella to let Edward kill himself and stay with him. Once he understands that Bella is serious and Edward literally is going to try to get himself killed because he thinks Bella is dead he understands that the only way she can live with herself is if she tries everything she can to stop him from succeeding.

° Instead he is the voice of reason: “Bella, listen to me, Charlie is about to come home to an empty house after burying one of his best friends. He will be beside himself with worry and this note is bullshit, you’re a horrible liar. Tell him you’re staying with Alice tonight because you’re going to Seattle together in the morning, there’s a sale or some shit that she wants to drag you to. Tomorrow night you call him and tell him your car broke down, you have to stay in Seattle while they order the parts for you. It might be a few days. That’ll buy you some time.”

° “And call me when you land or, I don’t know, I might worry too.”

° It feels like tearing his own heart out but he lets her go. He doesn’t beg her to stay.

° The events at Volterra play out the same way they did but Charlie isn’t left to deal with the same amount of shit he was in the original.

° When they return Jacob comes to visit her, she fills him in and, let me tell you, he has a few things to say.

° “I can’t believe you’re just going to get back together with him. Bella he lied to you, manipulated you and left you. His sister can see the god damn future, if you think he didn’t know how this would affect you then you’re wrong. And he still did it. Maybe he’s telling you the truth and he did it because he thought it would be better for you in the long run but he made that decision without you. If you just take him back then you are essentially telling him that was an okay thing for him to do and it just wasn’t.”

° Jacob is so angry at the Cullens and really, what he’s saying isn’t wrong. The angrier he gets the more Bella can feel her own anger flaring to life, it had been buried under the sheer relief of finding Edward alive, the euphoria of being told that he still loves her. Now she feels indignant; how dare he just make this decision for her, how dare he not take into account her own feelings on the matter, how dare he prioritise his own concerns over hers, and how dare the entire family just go along with it. They all left her.

° She drives herself over to the Cullen’s house to have a talk with them. The vote stays the same, the “if you don't want me, then I'm not going to force myself on you, whether Alice is willing or not” part definitely stays in. However, Bella, after having taken the vote has a few choice words for all of them. “You all left me. I have spent months trying to learn to survive without you and it didn’t go all that well. I want to join you, I really do. But I don’t trust you anymore. You all made an enormous decision for me, without my say so. You’ve now made another decision that I was a part of and even though we don’t all agree, we all got a say. It’s going to take time for me to learn to trust you again, in the meantime all I have to say is this: you will never make a decision regarding me without my input again. Never.”

° She also talks to Alice separately, discounting Edward she feels the most hurt by the fact that she would have left her.

° Since Jacob is now the only person outside of the Cullens who she can actually talk to about her life, she tells him about her talk with them, including the vote.

° Jacob has an understandable freakout regarding the fact that Bella has definitively chosen to become a vampire. This is definitely not what he’d thought would happen after he and Bella had their last talk. And because he’s an impulsive teenager he brings Charlie the motorcycle, hoping that Bella will be grounded and get some distance from Edward and maybe even change her mind.

I have a lot of thoughts regarding the continuation of the series but it’s already a mammoth post so idk, i might do a separate post about Eclipse at some point.

[blackcherrykiss]

BLOOD BOUNDARIES - Enhypen OT7 Fanfic (ch.8)

[CH.1] [CH.2] [CH.3] [CH.4] [CH.5] [CH.6] [CH.7] previous chapters

[CH.9] next chapter (now avaliable!)

You tiptoe yourself towards the room where detention was being held that lunch hour, not surprised to see a familiar face after Jaeyun's warning of Sunghoon or Heeseung being there. You clashed eyes with Sunghoon whose eyes flickered up and down at you like a light switch as you entered the room. Sunghoon's stone face would only vanish into the only other facial expression you've ever seen him give, a sinister smile.

"Have a seat... Y/N" Your gym teacher lowered her head, visibly more interested in the flyer she had in hand.

You took a slow gander at the other people in the room, a couple of recognizable lower classmen and duos of pranksters. Sunghoon stuck out like a sore thumb, remaining the centre of your attention. You willingly took up the vacant desk beside him at the very back where a few shadows lingered.

"Unexpected meeting." Sunghoon was subtle, speaking in a deep voice was just audible enough to be heard by you. You both didn't make eye contact as it would've made it obvious you were talking and God knows how many more detention sentences you'd be given for being caught chatting.

"Jaeyun told me you're here all the time, no surprises for me." You whispered while making yourself at home in your chair.

You blink in frustration as you realize if you had brought your physics textbook, you could've worked on the questions you hadn't done in class. You pull out some notes to study in the meantime, dreading the fact you were about to spend the next half hour wasting brain energy reviewing for a test you were getting quite confident with.

After using most of the detention time repeating your study terms, you peek over at Sunghoon who rested his head down on one of his arms that dangled off the front of his desk. You got the idea of passing notes to communicate with Sunghoon in the last 10 minutes of detention. Tearing off a medium-sized square of paper, you began to write in a sharp font:

hey, just wanted to ask if you're flirting with dahee or something?  rumour has it you already have a girlfriend... i won't tell anyone :-)

You fold the paper and carefully flick Sunghoon's shoulder, eyeing the teacher while you're at it out of caution. Sunghoon slowly lifted his face, squinting to adjust to the bright light before seeing the paper you held out for him. With a raised brow he grasped it between his thin fingertips, stretching it out of its crumpled form. You don't bother looking at his reaction and rather wait for him to write down a response in the empty spaces you left. Within a quick exchange, the folded paper was back in your possession with a couple of words written, his writing a lot smaller than you imagined.

since when did I have a girlfriend? and who says I'm flirting with dahee?

You obviously only pretended there was a rumour of Sunghoon having a girlfriend to avoid telling him the truth. From what you could recall, Sunghoon would "kill" Kyungeun if he found out what you saw. You weren't just going to throw Kyungeun under the bus and get her into trouble so here you were stuck thinking about your reply. Your pencil began to move once a response was in mind.

I saw it with my own eyes yesterday! something is up between you and dahee

Sunghoon took the paper right off your desk before you could fold it nicely as if he was reading as you wrote. This time he scribbled in loose and long lines as a way of communicating faster.

why does it matter? let me answer my own question, I know you saw me with Kyungeun

Your eyes went white, blinking in horror as you read the paper over and over. How could he have known you were there? You could've sworn it was too dim in the library that day.  It would also be practically impossible to identify anyone behind or even through the cracks from where Sunghoon was standing. The only answer would be Jaeyun then, right?

The teacher extended on knee down to push herself into a standing position "I'm going to the bathroom, there are only a few minutes left but I better see all of you still here and quiet when I get back."  The teacher left in a flash, probably doing her best to get back as quick as she could. But it didn't take more than 20 seconds before people broke the silence and started chatting it up with each other. You also took the absence of the teacher to speak.

You stood up in disbelief to interrogate Sunghoon, "Who told you I was there?" You looked around to make sure no one was watching while you moved in closer to Sunghoon.

"I could sense you there, behind the fiction bookshelves" He slumped back in his chair to observe your face in full light, "No one told me you were there."

You swallowed harshly at the correct observations of his, you believed he was lying just to scare you. "Cut the bullshit. So what is it about my friends that you NEED so bad? Sex?" You gasped in your head at your own retort.

"Sex?" He wheezed, hitting the table with an open palm. His loss of breath was an indication that he found your assumption pathetic. "I'm not that low Y/N," He pulled you in more than you had expected to increase the volume of his whisper, "Kyungeun will be of no use to me once I have Dahee... I'll let Kyungeun free soon, don't worry."

You hear footsteps against the waxed floors of the hallway and immediately sit down along with the rest of everyone in the room. The whole class shifted in a prim and proper manner as if no one moved an inch while the teacher was gone. You rummage through your bag to find the book you had taken out from the library to help sell the act.

"I'm surprised half of you didn't leave while I was gone... You are free to pack up now."  She nodded and left the class to probably catch her own lunchtime.

"Why will Kyungeun be of no use?" You get back on track with Sunghoon after the short commercial break.

"What's this book?" He ignored you, snatching the stack out of your hands without much thought.

"Don't ignore my question! And it's for one of my classes." You added.

He flipped to a random page like you had done when you first saw the book. He scanned the text and made all kinds of expressions, "Why the fuck do you have this?!" His jaw slightly lower than usual before an unexpected cast of excitement took over his face "This book you have, I'll have to confiscate it, pretty girl."

Immediately making you jumped on both feet to block any further travel, "Why? No? It's rightfully mine!" You scrapped the question and got more worried about the book.

He held the book as high as he could so you wouldn't even attempt to snatch it from him, "I'm starting to think you're fooling us more than we're fooling you. How much do you actually know about us?" He was clearly amused by you.

"Am I that clueless???" You bit down on your tongue, the word murderers coming to mind. But somehow that answer didn't seem right. "Fine keep that book and don't answer my question."  You muttered bitterly.

Sunghoon spun around in his slender form, "I'll answer all of your questions and give you this book back." You watched as he steadily gravitated toward the door, "Meet me at the front of the woods at dusk." And so he left the room, his mysterious intent making you uneasy.  The meetup was being held so late, in the dark, far from school grounds.

...

"I figured you had detention Y/N..." Hyesun tsked, "How was it?"

"It was alright, got some studying done... Funny, I saw Sunghoon there." You shivered just saying his name aloud.

"Sunghoon? Of course... He's sort of a snob to the teachers. Speaking of Sunghoon, Dahee told me this morning that she couldn't stop thinking about him." Hyesun bit deliciously down on her strawberry pastry, "But by chance... Do you by chance like him?"

"Why do you ask?" You answer not thinking at all.

"Dahee thinks you do, apparently by the way you look at him...? I mean, she really doesn't want to get too attached if that's the cas-"

"YES! I do like him!" You cut Hyesun off with the thought that by saying you liked him would get Dahee away from the dangerous prick.

Were you screwing up something up by saying that? Hopefully not.

"Oh, then you should tell her... I think the sooner the better because she was really wondering this morning whether or not to keep flirting." Hyesun suggested before her eyes grew large out of their sockets as she looked over your shoulder, "Hey Jungwon?"

You jumped out of the table, your mind in full freakout mode, "Jungwon??? Hey!?" You panicked as you were positive Jungwon heard literally everything that just came out of your mouth. "Hyesun I need to talk to Jungwon about a project if you'll excuse us." You were full of lies today and you were sure it would come to bite you back somehow.

Yanking Jungwon's wrist, you led him outside the dining hall and into the courtyard where there were actually people hanging around in the warm autumn noon. Jungwon shook your hand off of his coldly.

"Since when did you like Sunghoon?! He's fucking insane he will fucking ruin you!" Jungwon screamed with his voice that even began cracking up. He was yelling so loud, not giving a damn if the full basketball court heard him.

"Stop getting so mad?! I know he's a fucking bad guy! I don't actually like him calm down!" You tried raising your voice over his, trying to control the temper in your body.

"Then why in the hell did you tell your friend you do?! Why are you getting so involved with him dear God!" Jungwon breathed fire through his nose, resting the side of his fingers over his brows to avoid looking at you.

"Because I'm trying to protect her??? Would you stop acting like this? I don't understand why he's a bad person but it's clear he has some malicious intentions with my friends so just get off my fucking back would you? You don't even wanna explain to me either so just chill out!" You exploded with emotions right then and there but you had more fuel to the fire, "Are you just leading me on by caring about me this much? Are you jealous Jungwon? Do you like me? Answer me!"

In your deepest wishes, you wanted him to say yes but part of you was plain tired. You didn't know where all this talk of yours was coming from but somehow your feelings blended into the chaotic mixture of the moment.

He hesitated to answer which was enough to boil up some sort of pain and frustration in your heart, "I-I don't know!? I just really care for you Y/N!" Jungwon held his head as he lost his balance his face expressing he was not feeling well. He took a few steps back, his voice a lot softer as he began to breathe a bit heavier. "I think I'm gonna throw up." He groaned in pain as he held onto his head tighter.

In an instant, you snapped out of your anger and looked around for help while still checking on him, "Jungwon are you alright?!" You slid your bag off of yourself and put your hands near his sides in case he fainted, to which he was already in the process of doing. "Holy shit! Jungwon?!" His legs gave up on him completely, melting down into the pavement. Luckily he would not smash his skull if it weren't for the instinct of your arms to catch him.

You turned to the basketball court to see Jay had already approached the situation, a beat-up basketball in between his fist and torso. Jay knelt down with worry, "I knew this would happen to him..." He mumbled in frustration

[anasticklefics]

Rinse And Repeat

Fandom: MCU

Characters: Natasha, Tony

Anonymous said: Natasha wants physical affection but doesn’t know how to ask for it, so she has taken to intentionally pestering Tony. It tends to lead to tickling which devolves into cuddling.

Words: 1 673

Natasha knew that Tony knew what she was doing. At one point in her life she might’ve been subtle about it; not have given into her need several days in a row. But the Avengers had cracked something in her that had once been frozen, and now she found she couldn’t be bothered to pretend the crevice wasn’t growing.

The first night she’d found Tony in the dimly lit kitchen, an empty cup resting in his palms as he waited for the water to boil. She grabbed one for herself noiselessly, their eyes meeting but neither of them saying a thing. Tony merely ducked his head in greeting, fingertips drumming against his mug. Hot red, with white cracks on the damaged parts. Maybe a symbol, if Nat had been into that sort of thing.

She’d sought him out because she was desperate, but she found herself hesitating now. The circles under his eyes spoke of long nights with no sleep. Whether it meant he’d had a bad week or a productive week she wasn’t sure. Her own body felt restless despite the hour, but they’d found each other wandering around the halls in the middle of the night before and so she didn’t expect him to ask, but of course he did.

“Can’t sleep?”

She shook her head.

“Tea might help.”

“I’m hoping it will,” she replied, as if it had been her whole reason for being there. He didn’t have to know. At that point he didn’t yet. “You?”

“Same.” Tony turned toward the kettle, the sound getting fainter as it finished up its one and only job. “Let me.”

He poured the water into her cup while she searched among their quite excessive tea collection for something soothing, just to keep her facade up. “This one?” She held up the package.

“Sure. Thanks.”

It wasn’t awkward, but it didn’t have the usual daylight flair of trying too hard to have things feel natural. In the middle of the night when both were feeling exhausted, restless, deprived, Natasha and Tony spoke without using words. She’d never had expected that when she’d arrived at Stark Industries named Natalia years prior.

She was certain he’d planned on returning to his quarters with his cup, but instead he sat at the table, silently inviting her to do the same. She settled beside him, both staring ahead as they waited for their tea to cool. If someone entered this would probably look quite strange, but Nat felt herself relax at his side.

“So.”

She turned to watch him, their bodies facing each other ever so slightly now. “So?”

“How’s your tea?”

“I haven’t drunk it yet.”

“Oh. Right.”

She lifted the cup to her mouth and blew on the drink to cool it before taking a sip. “It’s good.”

“Good.”

She felt herself grin. “We’re having some profound conversations tonight.”

He let out a laugh, sudden and loud. “Aren’t we? It almost feels as if we’re giving too much of us away if someone’s listening.”

“We better be quiet, then.”

“Should we?” He tilted his head at her. Had she been anyone else, she might’ve averted her gaze. “I say screw them. We shouldn’t not participate in profound conversation just because someone might be listening.”

She raised her cup. “Cheers to that.”

They toasted. They drank. Natasha leaned into him for a moment as they resumed their staring ahead, elbows knocking, shoulders merging. That was all she dared do that night, unsatisfied and restless still, but when she caught Tony’s eye after she’d pulled away, she knew he knew.

*

She found him in the chilly living room the next night, someone - maybe Tony himself - having left the window open to let the dry December air in. Tony was sitting on the couch beneath a quite frankly huge blanket, tablet in hand. She shivered in greeting, and his eyes found hers in amusement before he pulled one side of the blanket off of him to invite her under it.

Miraculously, she accepted; settling down beside him as he returned to his tablet. She had no reason to be in there at this hour. No tea, no book. Just her, so obviously seeking out his company. He didn’t question her. In fact, they didn’t speak for nearly ten minutes before she heard him sigh and put the tablet down.

“Are you warm enough?”

She slid down further on the couch, knees knocking into his own curled up ones. “Yes.”

“I was only going to air the room out a little, but got too comfortable to get up and close the window. I should’ve asked you to do it when you were standing.”

She shrugged. “It’s quite nice, actually. A nice contrast.”

“And it gives us a reason to snuggle all up with each other.”

He wagged his eyebrows and Natasha shoved him, not blushing, but too close to embarrassment for comfort. “This was your idea, Stark.”

“And it worked perfectly.” She made a move to stand, but Tony grabbed her wrist and pulled her down again. “Oh, come on, stay. I’m sorry, it was a joke. I’m not here to force you to be cuddly with me. See?” He grabbed a pillow and shoved it beneath the blanket. “We can fit like three of these between us.”

That was the moment Natasha had to make a choice between dignity and comfort. For once, she chose the latter.

“You don’t have to pretend you don’t want to be close to me,” she said, rolling her eyes as she pushed it off the couch as if it was on fire. “I don’t bite.”

Tony could’ve used his knowledge against her. Could’ve reminded her of the previous night, of her need to be close without talking about it, but he didn’t. Nat would remember that for the rest of her life, she was sure.

He sighed and leaned into her, cheek resting against her shoulder so that she had to rest hers on his head. “Wake me if I fall asleep,” he said with a yawn, both knowing she wouldn’t.

*

She ditched subtlety entirely the next night and found him in his workshop, elbow deep into something she couldn’t identify. Maybe it was the fact that he was busy, combined them sleeping all laced up in each other until a confused Bruce found them the next morning, but Natasha didn’t feel like sitting on the couch to patiently wait for him to finish.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” she asked, approaching him.

“When am I ever asleep at this hour?” he asked, sparing her a glance before returning to his creation. “But now that you’re here, hand me that screwdriver, will you?”

“You’re using me for labor, I see,” she said, doing as he asked anyway. “There will be consequences.”

“Well, if there will be consequences now anyway, grab me that hammer.”

She poked his exposed side where his shirt had ridden up. “Don’t take advantage of my good heart, Stark.”

He jerked away from her touch. “Don’t do that.”

“What, this?” She poked him again. “And why not?”

“I’m working- god, stop.” He straightened, his arms covered in oil as he tried to grab her hands. “Oh, so now you’re trying to get away, huh? I’ll show you.”

“Don’t you dare touch me with that all over you,” she warned, taking several steps back as everything backfired.

“But I have the overwhelming urge to hug you right now, Nat, I can’t pause to wash.”

What a sight they must’ve been, with a dirty Iron Man chasing a now laughing Black Widow around the room. What a pair in general. Natasha still didn’t know how they had turned into this, but there was no going back now. She could feel it in her bones.

She could also feel Tony’s hands on her sides, gripping them enough to tackle her onto the couch, the oil-covered fingers finding her ribs. Tony probably knew she’d let it happen, but he wasn’t stupid enough to mention it.

She was also letting him tickle her to pieces, though it was a struggle to not turn the tables instantly. But despite the grime and the humiliation she realized as soon as she started giggling that this was needed almost as much as the physical affection she’d been trying to silently coax out of him. She hadn’t realized it before.

She’d save the freaking out about it all until later, when she was alone and wide awake in her bed with the sensation of Tony’s quite skillful fingers wiggling over her skin still lingering, and maybe the memory would turn the freakout into something milder.

*

Tony didn’t let her live it down after that. The moment she settled beside him on chairs or couches or even floors, with the night covering them like a blanket, his hands would sneak into a new spot just to try it.

“I didn’t expect you to be ticklish all over,” he said one night, not smirking as much as staring at her in wonder as she covered her knee after his swift attack.

She snorted and grabbed for his knee back, grinning when he let out a surprised laugh. “Two can play that game, Stark.”

“Yeah, but we both know I’ll win.” We both know you’ll let me win, he didn’t add, but they both knew it.

She shook her head and Tony snuck in one more poke to her side before letting his hand drop, knowing not to test his luck too much. Knowing Natasha didn’t handle embarrassment well and this was toeing the edge.

She relaxed as soon as he leaned into her, knowing he wouldn’t tickle her again that night. It was funny. She’d not realized they had a set routine until now, but every night was pretty much the same choreography. Find Tony, sit with Tony, pester each other, cuddle. Maybe fall asleep depending on where they were. Rinse and repeat.

She wouldn’t change it for the world, even when Tony found out her neck was a death spot.

[miss-kit]

Maybe Teruteru with a reader who's like Mikan? Nervous, sensative, and shy. If you write fanfic, maybe him confessing to her. I just need some Teruteru content for my birthday 🥺

Aaah happy birthday Anon! I know this is late, but I hope you like it! Honestly, I feel like it could have been better. I want to thank Mod BZ for helping me with the ending! She’s honestly the reason I finished it in the first place.

                                                                        - Mod Kitten

Teruteru Hanamura x Reader

Warnings: None!

Today was the day! He's going to do this!

Teruteru Hanamura, the Ultimate Cook, was going to tell his crush he loves them! And this time he refuses to wuss out.

Teruteru strolled through the halls of Hope's Peak, a cake in his hands and a bouquet of roses poking out of his bag. He wasn't as great a baker as he is a cook, but after weeks of perfecting the recipe, he was confident that (Y/n) would love it. The words "Wanna go on a date?" were delicately written on the top and covered in edible glitter to make the question as obvious as possible.

He hummed as he reached his classroom. Making sure the cake wasn't damaged in the slightest, he went to open the door, ignoring the sound of the school bell. "Good morning, everyone!"

"Good morning, Teruteru. What's the occasion?" Princess Sonia questioned him as she noticed the cake and flowers the short man held.

"Today is the day, your highness!" He beamed as he showed her the cake. "I'm finally going to ask the sweet (Y/n) on a date!"

Sonia clasped her hands together, a smile taking over her features. "Oh Teruteru, that's wonderful!"

"You're not going to wuss out this time, are you?" Mahiru questioned as she walked up to the two chatting friends, placing her hands on her hips. "Last time you tried, you ended up screaming "Taylor Swift" in their face and running away."

Teruteru chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "N-not one of my best moments, I'll admit. But today will be different! I declare it! After all, I've worked on this cake for weeks now and I know they'll-"

"S-so sorry for being late! I-"

Teruteru yelped as someone crashed into him from behind, knocking them both to the ground.

"Ah! Are the two of you alright?" Teruteru could hear Sonia's voice as he groaned in pain. He turned his head to see a very, very red (Y/n). "Gyah! Sorry, Teruteru!" They quickly picked themselves up, dusting off their clothes as Teruteru stood back up.

"No worries, (Y/n), it was an accident," Teruteru reassured as he picked up his fallen hat. "Ah!" Sonia gasped. "Teruteru, the cake!"

Teruteru could feel a chill run down his spine. He examined the front of his clothes, only to find it covered in frosting and cake. The cake itself was a mess, crushed and almost flattened. Even the words were unreadable, the frosting and edible glitter smeared.

"Oh no! Teru, I am so so sorry!" (Y/n) cried when they realized what they had done. Tears began to form at the corners of their eyes.

Teruteru sighed. "Now, now. No need to apologize, it was just a cake. " He picked up the ruined cake off the floor. "Besides, it's still edible, even if it can no longer be used for its original purpose." He muttered the last part under his breath.

"Sooo whatcha gonna do with that cake there, Teru?" Akane came out of nowhere, a drop of drool forming at the end of her mouth. Sighing, Teruteru handed her the ruined cake. At least someone would be able to enjoy it.

"If you'll excuse me, I have to go change." The ultimate cook briskly made his way out of the classroom, keeping his head down to keep his embarrassed blush hidden.

~~~

Well, the cake idea didn't work. But that wasn't going to stop Teruteru!

He still had the flowers, which had somehow survived the incident that morning. He watched as the sweet (Y/n) came out of the school gym, red from exercise and on edge as they normally were. Clearing his throat, he walked up to them, words already forming in his head.

"Good afternoon, my sweet (Y/n)!"

(Y/n) jumped in surprise, but relaxed as soon as they noticed the ultimate cook walking up to them. "Good afternoon, Teruteru. What brings you here?" They questioned as they eyed the roses he held in his hands.

"Well you see, I was hoping to ask you if you'd like to hang out after school today. You see, a new bakery opened up nearby and I was hoping that-"

"O-oh, I'm sorry, Teruteru. Ibuki, Chiaki, and I already have plans."

A cold feeling washed over Teruteru as his smile dropped. "Oh, I see."

"Gyah! You hate me now, don't you!?" (Y/n) shouted. They clasped their hands together as tears pricked at their eyes. "P-please forgive me!"

"Now, now. I don't hate you, sugar." Teruteru dropped the flowers as he took their hands in his own, feeling the glares from judging students nearby. "You have nothing to apologize for. I, uh-" He picked up the dropped flowers and shoved them into (Y/n)'s shaking hands. "Here, please accept these as an apology for making you think such a thing."

(Y/n) blinked away the tears as they examined the flower. "But Teru, these are lovely. Are you sure I can have them?"

"Of course! Now then, how about we join everyone else for lunch back in the classroom?" Teruteru relaxed as the other smiled shyly at him, nodding.

~~~

"You still haven't asked them?" Mahiru raised a brow as he scrubbed away at the chalkboard. It was cleaning time, which meant she and Teruteru were alone as they cleaned and organized the classroom.

"I tried, alright?" Teruteru sighed exasperatedly as he straighten one of the desks. "Things just don't want to go my way."

Mahiru rolled her eyes and turned to the other, "You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you weren't trying hard enough!"

Teruteru felt himself become tense. "And just what is that supposed to mean?" He asked the redhead, trying to keep his temper to a minimum.

"You're always saying "today is the day", yet you don't go through with your plans half the time, and when you do attempt one, you either back out last second or make (Y/n) nervous!"

"It isn't my fault!" Teruteru shouted at her. "(Y/n) is the best person I've ever met. They care more about others than they do themselves, they always smile despite being on the verge of crying, they can cheer anyone up with just a word, they... they..."

Teruteru dragged off as he stared at the door. Confused, Mahiru turned around to see what had stopped him so abruptly.

Standing at the door with a very, very blushy face, was (Y/n) themself.

The air in the room suddenly got a bit heavy as Teruteru realized they must have heard everything. "Uh..."

Mahiru smiled. "I'll just leave the two of you alone." She ducked out of the class pass (Y/n), sending them a quick wink.

The two classmates stared at each other, neither quite sure what to say.

Teruteru was the first to break the silence, clearing his throat as he pulled out his comb. "Ahaha. I s-suppose it'd be silly of me to ask you if you heard what I said." He chuckled as he shakingly fixed his hair.

"Uh..." (Y/n) was trying to find the right words, the heat in their cheeks distracting them.

"If you don't feel the same, I understand completely," Teruteru reassured them, trying to keep his voice as clear as possible. "S-someone as amazing as you probably prefers someone bet-"

"I-I like you too, Teruteru!"

"...huh?" Was all Teruteru could say. (Y/n)'s blush slightly reddened as they stared down at their shoes. "I... I like you too. I've liked you for a while now, actually. But, I sorta figured you'd prefer someone who could keep up with you or at least someone who isn't on the verge of a freakout. Or someone who overthinks things. Or someone who-"

(Y/n) bit their lip. "I honestly didn't think you'd like me back."

Teruteru absorbed every word. He almost couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"W-well then..." Teruteru cleared his throat.

Teruteru placed his hand against his chest, sighing a breath of relief as (y/n) looks up at him.

"I do have to say I'm shocked sugar. I wasn't expecting today of all days to be the day you found out. And all this time..."

He looked up at (Y/n) and smiles, walking closer to them. He extends his open hand out, and waits for a moment. "Any day is better than never, and that bakery isn't going anywhere. Do you..."

(Y/n) takes his hand and in a nervous heap hugs him.

"S-sure!" (Y/n) spoke, nodding happily as Teruteru pats their back.

"This time, don't get any cake on me." He teased, smiling as a blush formed on (Y/n)’s cheeks.

With a final good-bye, Teruteru watched as they left the classroom. A warm feeling spread through his stomach as he placed his hands on his hips.

He finally did it.

[heyhey-heyward]

NO I DON’T | part two

series masterlist

summary: In which you realize that maybe you have feelings.

word count: 2.7k

let me know what you think!

The next morning found Kiara at your house as you got ready, waiting for John B to pick you both up in his van for the day's adventures. She was laying on your bed, scrolling through her phone as you bounced around to get dressed.

“Oh my god, did I tell you what John B asked me last night?” You stepped out of your closet once you finished getting changed out of your pajamas and looked at Kiara, who shook her head. “He asked me if I had a thing for JJ.”

“Well?” She looked at you expectantly, and you furrowed your brows.

“Well, what?” You repeated, confusion evident in your tone. She scoffed, the grin she was wearing a bit too smug for your liking.

“Do you have a thing for him?” From her tone, it was clear that she thought her question was obvious. Suddenly, the looks she had been sending you over the past couple of days made sense.

“Not you too.” You groaned, dropping your head back in annoyance as you picked up your backpack that held everything you needed for the day. Kiara chuckled at your reaction, climbing off your bed to follow you as you moved to go wait for the boys downstairs. “I promise, there is nothing going on between JJ and I.”

“If you say so.” She shrugged, echoing John B’s statement from the night before. You could tell by her tone and grin that she clearly wasn’t convinced, though you chose not to respond, dropping the subject completely when you entered the kitchen and spotted your mom drinking coffee at the island table.

“Hello, girls.” Your mom greeted you both with a smile. “Have you gotten your Midsummers dresses yet?” Since your parents had grown up on The Cut, they were eager to take part in any events that solidified their Kook status. You, on the other hand, couldn’t care less.

“No, but I was thinking of going tomorrow.” Kiara explained with a smile. What she didn’t say was that she waited so long to get a dress because, just like you, she thought the whole event was ridiculous.

“I’ll go with her.” You told your mom, knowing that was going to be her next question. Shopping with Kiara would mean one less headache and you would be able to enjoy yourself.

“And have you thought about having someone escort you?” She wasn’t being controlling, you could tell from the smile she was wearing that she was simply genuinely curious. Just as you were grabbing a couple granola bars out of the pantry, a familiar honk sounded from the driveway and you knew it was your chance to escape.

“Bye mom!” You called, grabbing Kiara’s arm and racing out of the house. John B’s van was parked exactly where you knew it would be, with Pope in the passenger’s seat and JJ’s head sticking out the sliding door. You climbed in with Kiara in tow, the dark haired girl was grinning mischievously at you.

“Yeah, are you going to have someone escort you?” She teased, reaching out to pinch your cheeks as you slumped into the spot next to JJ. His arm found its way around your shoulders like it usually did, and he was looking between you and Kiara with a confused look.

“Shut up, Kie. I’d rather choke than go with some stuck up Kook.” You rolled your eyes, leaning further into JJ to get away from her. She grinned, settling into her spot across from you as John B pulled out of the driveway.

“Are you talking about Midsummers?” Pope asked over his shoulder. You nodded, rubbing your cheeks that stung a bit from where Kiara pinched them. “I’m supposed to work it with my dad.”

“When is it again?” John B asked. The boys looked to you and Kiara for answers, wondering when their group of five would be knocked down to two.

“It’s in three days, and we have to go dress shopping tomorrow.” Kiara explained as you picked at your nails, clearly bored with the conversation. You felt JJ shift from beside you, drawing your attention and when you met his gaze he was frowning.

“We were supposed to watch C.H.U.D. that night though.” He pouted, and even though he was the best liar of the group, you could see the mischief in his eyes. He wasn’t actually upset, but he would never be one to pass up the chance to tease. You shoved his shoulder playfully while still grinning at his antics.

“Sorry I’ve got to bail on you, we can hang out another time.” You assured him, turning to John B to ask him where he was taking everyone, but you didn’t get the chance to say anything before Kiara spoke up.

“Why don’t you just go to Midsummers with her?” Her question was innocent enough, but coupled with the conversation you had with her minutes earlier, you shot her an exasperated look. Though, the idea of having JJ with you at the event had you significantly more excited for the night. He would be able to make the stuffiest Kook party actually enjoyable.

“Yeah, J, I’ll even rent you a suit and everything. And Kie could bring JB. It’ll be a Pogue takeover.” You nudge him with your elbow, earning a grin from the blonde. The look he gave you, for some unknown reason, sent a shock through your system. You had always known he was attractive, but the sight of his dimple and the lightness in his eyes caught you off guard.

“Maybe I will.” JJ announced, pulling you tighter into his side as he switched his attention to the other three people in the car. John B echoed his sentiment, and as JJ leaned towards the front to make some joke about how Pope was going to have to serve him, Kiara shot you a self-satisfied look that made you roll your eyes.

“John B, where are we even going?” You called, your voice loud enough to carry over JJ and Pope’s back and forth bickering. You met the brunette’s gaze through the rearview mirror, noting the mischievous gaze that told you that he was up to something.

“We’re having a kegger tonight.”

A few hours and one free lunch from Kiara’s family restaurant The Wreck later, John B dropped you and JJ off at the store to pick up some last minute items for the party.

“I can’t believe I got put on cup duty.” JJ complained, grabbing the large package of red solo cups off of the shelf. You rolled your eyes, grabbing an extra pack to make sure there was enough.

“I’m on babysitting duty, so it could be worse.” You teased, ruffling his hair as you flashed him a grin and walked ahead of him.

“Oh, so we’re being mean now, are we?” He called, trailing after you. You could hear the smile in his voice, and when you glanced at him over your shoulder your suspicions were proven true. You nodded at his statement, only realizing your mistake seconds later when his arms came around your middle and he spun you around, fingers digging into your sides to tickle you.

You didn’t hear the cups hit the ground as you both dropped what you were carrying over the sound of your laughter. JJ’s arms were around you, keeping your back pressed to his chest as you tried to squirm out of his hold. Eventually he dropped you, and you immediately spun to face him, swatting his shoulder as he laughed loudly and you tried to catch your breath.

And then it hit you.

A stampede of butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you watched JJ giggle uncontrollably at his own actions. Your whole body felt warm, and everywhere JJ had just been touching you was tingling. It was as if everything you had ever known was coming into question and you weren’t sure you would be able to tell up from down. But worst of all—John B was right.

You had a thing for JJ.

You were dragged out of your thoughts by JJ waving his hand in front of your face, calling your name. You forced a smile, embarrassed that you had been caught zoning out as you thought about how you could have gone so long without realizing your feelings for one of your closest friends.

“You good?” JJ asked, picking up the cups from the ground. You nodded, clearing your throat as you made a bee-line for the cashier. The old man working the register shot you an annoyed look, clearly not the happiest with the fact that you had been so noisy just moments before.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” You said, way too quickly for you to be actually fine. You could tell JJ wasn’t convinced, but he kept his mouth shut as you paid and he followed you out of the store with the cups in hand. Originally, the plan had been for JJ to come to your house and hang out for a while, but at the moment all you needed was to put some distance between yourself and the blonde haired boy who’s gaze was making it hard for you to breathe properly. “Actually, I just remembered that I promised my parents I’d help them with something today, so I’ve got to head back.”

“Do you want me to help too?” He asked, and you silently cursed him for being such a kind person. You probably wouldn’t be in this mess if he wasn’t such a secret softie towards his friends. Plastering on the biggest smile you could muster you chuckled, internally cringing at the sheer awkwardness of it all.

“Is JJ Maybank offering to work?” You teased, ignoring the confused look he gave you or the way your voice was a few octaves too high to be normal. You started to walk backwards in the direction of your house, shooting him one last wave. “I’ll see you at the party.”

If this was how you were going to act around him from now on—you were in trouble.

You arrived at The Boneyard that night after the party had already started and Pogues, Kooks, and Tourons alike were already drinking. After your little freakout at your house, you had calmed down significantly and convinced yourself that you’d be able to act normally around JJ, because it was just JJ, one of your best friends since the third grade when John B introduced the two of you.

You spotted your group of friends sitting around one of the many small bonfires that littered the small stretch of beach dedicated to parties. You head towards them instead of the keg, not wanting to deal with the group of Kooks that currently surrounded it. You swung an arm around Pope’s shoulders as you dropped into the spot on the log beside him, interrupting his story about something his dad had told him as a cheer of your name sounded from the group. You smiled at them, ignoring the way your heart skipped a beat as your gaze momentarily landed on JJ.

“Where have you been? I thought you weren’t going to show.” John B teased with a grin. You went to give him some comeback about how you weren’t sure you would have been able to stomach one more party with him, but JJ’s voice added onto the brunette’s comment.

“Yeah, after you freaked out and bailed on me this afternoon.” He remarked, punctuating his sentence with a drag of the blunt he had rolled for the party. You felt your smile morph into a grimace, and to avoid meeting anyone’s questioning looks, you stared into the fire.

“My mom has been freaking out about Midsummers, she wanted me to help her pick out a dress today.” You lied. It was clear that something was up, but nobody questioned you as John B rose from his seat, extending a hand to pull you to your feet.

“Come on, let’s get you a drink.” He explained, leading you through the crowd and towards the now-empty keg. “So are you going to tell me what’s really going on? Because I’ve already seen the dress your mom picked out for Midsummers, like, two weeks ago.”

You cringed, embarrassed to be caught in a lie. Your silence must have told John B all that he needed to know, because it was seconds later that his grin widened and he was laughing at you.

“Oh my god, you do have a thing for him!” John B called out, much too loudly for your liking. You shot forward, slapping a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet. He leaned back out of your touch, shooting you a grin as he finally moved to fill a cup for you. “I knew it. So, what happened? JJ didn’t say anything—”

“Nothing happened, John B! I just kinda, freaked out and left.” You sighed exasperatedly, tilting your head back in annoyance. You knew nothing would stop him from teasing you, you certainly wouldn’t hold back if you were in his position, but he also wouldn’t cross any lines.

Still, he wasn’t the best secret keeper once he had a few drinks in him.

Your solution to your John B problem had been to stick by his side the entire night. It wasn’t far from what you usually did at parties, but you also had been avoiding JJ as best you could—which, you couldn’t remember the last time you put so much distance between yourself and the blonde.

A few refills later and you were feeling loose, your mind able to wander other places instead of being stuck on the fear that JJ might find out how you felt. You had been messing around with John B, and somehow had ended up climbing onto his back.

“JB, I swear, if you drop me…” Your threat was empty as you trailed off, earning a loud laugh from John B.

“You’re the one that asked for a piggy back ride.” He teased, and you shut him up by holding your cup up to his lips to give him a sip. He went back to his conversation with Pope and Kiara after, and you zoned out as you felt a pair of eyes on you. Glancing up, you found JJ staring at you and John B with an annoyed expression, not giving the time of day to the Touron that was clearly trying to flirt with him.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, wondering what could have upset him. You entertained the idea that it was because you were ignoring him, and that made a heavy weight settle in your stomach.

“I’ll be right back.” You told John B, interrupting whatever story he was telling. You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before he set you on your feet, and you made your way through the crowd to where JJ was standing. His expression only seemed to get more sour, and you briefly contemplated turning back. You steeled your nerves and ignored the fluttering in your chest as you stood before him. “Hey, are you all right?”

“‘M fine.” He grunted, even less convincing than you had been earlier. And while you had lied because you were overwhelmed with a slew of new feelings towards one of your closest friends, he was lying because something was making him mad.

“J, what’s wrong?” You continued. Usually, you were pretty good at reading what upset JJ, from Kooks to his father, you knew him well. This time, it was as if there was a wall between you and him and you weren’t sure why he had built it up.

“Why don’t you go back to John B?” JJ wasn’t even looking at you as he spoke, his gaze trained on the cup he was squeezing too tight to be normal. You were shocked at the accusation he was making, that there was something going on between you and your oldest friend. You huffed, annoyed that he was being so difficult. You would have corrected him, but you had a stubborn streak as well, and just wanted to enjoy the party. So instead, you dished out the attitude that he gave you, before turning back to where John B, Kiara, and Pope were waiting for you.

“Get over yourself, JJ.”

—

taglist:

@pixelated-pogues​ @obx-direction-sos​ @emptycanvasposts​ @rudethchalamet​ @drizzlethatfalls​ @obxlife​ @fangirlvoice​ @jayjaymaebank​ @k-k0129​ @starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies @perfektionsmakel​ @teamnick​ @sspidermanss​ @jjs-housekeeping​

(names with a strikethrough did not work)

[getthesamovarready]

First Sight

I just love this chapter honestly

also on ao3

Chapter 2: twist of fate

TK is sitting at the kitchen counter when he walks in the door. “Long night?” He asks, bringing his coffee to his lips. Owen cringes silently, shutting the door behind himself. He shouldn’t be coming home to his son trying to parent him, and his stomach rolls over in guilt. Immediately though, TK drops his frown, descending into a fit of laughter. “Glad to see you’re embracing your new surroundings Dad.” He stands from his stool, padding across the floor. “Don’t take too long getting ready, we have to be early today.” He pats him on the shoulder, making his way to the stairs. “Oh!” He calls, halfway up the stairs. “I really hope there doesn’t end up being a bunch of mini-Strands running around Texas.”

Owen pours himself a desperately needed coffee from the pot TK brewed, following him upstairs with a laugh. With the amount of times he caught TK sneaking home in the early hours, he supposes he should let his son enjoy this one. Even if it is a little humiliating.

He didn’t notice it this morning, but when he takes off his shirt he catches a whiff of perfume, and it shocks the breath right out of his chest. He can feel her hands on his chest, and his stomach twists as he tries to shake it off.

It takes a shower, and the familiar comfort of his skincare routine, to stop heart racing and memories of last night sending tingles down his spine. His hard work is undone, however when he starts to dress for work.

His work shirt is perfume-free, but still his fingers fumble with the buttons, unable to avoid thinking of unbuttoning the back of Michelle's dress last night. He screws his eyes shut, willing his shirt to cooperate with his hands.

When he makes his way downstairs he is flustered, and TK's casual leaning on the countertop doesn't help. "I thought I said not to take too long?" He smirks at him, glancing at the clock. An hour isn't too long, Owen thinks, but he doesn't respond. He just scowls at TK. "Oh wow." TK chuckles. "Must have been some night." He notes Owen's flush. "She really did a number on you didn't she?" He pushes himself off the counter to head to the door. "You sure you're fit to drive in that daze?" TK calls from the doorway, and Owen leaves indents in his fingers as he squeezes the keys in his fist.

Xx

Knocking on Dustin's door probably wasn't what Owen had in mind when he suggested that she celebrate Iris's birthday. He definitely wasn't suggesting that she slam at it, and scream until he called the cops. But that's what she did. And she actually feels a little better, kicking his house. She feels a little of her tension dissipate.

So she doesn't even feel that guilty when Carlos's squad car pulls up. She even nearly smiles when she greets him. She doesn't feel the usual guilt when he has to handcuff her.

She doesn't smile, however, when he pauses. And her chest tightens when he coughs. "What's that?" He asks her, and she whips her head around to question him. He's staring right at the back of her shoulder.

She flushes instantly, remembering Owen unbuttoning her dress, kissing her neck, his teeth dipping lower to nip at her shoulder. She turns her head forward again, determined not to answer Carlos's question.

"Michelle…" She huffs, desperately wishing she could tug her sweater to cover the bruise. "Do you have a hickey on your neck?"

"So what if I do?" She snaps. She's a grown woman, what's it to him what she does anyway? She starts to walk towards the car, Carlos close behind.

"I just...you didn't tell me you were seeing anybody." There is a hint of disappointment in his voice, and she realises that maybe she's been more distant than she thought recently, if he really thinks she could hide something like that.

"I'm not." She tells him when he opens the door, and her stomach twists at the look on his face.

"So who?" He starts to ask, closing the door behind her and slipping into the front of the car. "So who was that?" He points at his own neck, concern lacing his voice.

"A guy." She mumbles.

"A guy? Just some random guy?"

She sighs. "I met him at the Honky Tonk last night." This is honestly way more humiliating than the handcuffs around her wrists.

"Last night? You let some guy you don't know do that?" He's eyeing her through the rear-view, and she squirms. "I'm assuming you did more than just…" He huffs out a sigh, gripping the steering wheel tightly. "You let some random guy you don't know take you home?"

"Actually… I took him home." It gets exactly the reaction she expected.

"Michelle!" He groans. "What the hell? You let a stranger into your house? He could have been a murderer! Or like… robbed you? What's wrong with you?"

"Not everyone is a criminal Carlos." She groans. "Some people are normal!"

"Says the woman I just arrested for violating a restraining order for the fifteenth time!" She slumps back in her seat. He has a point, and it's not the first time he's tried to convince her that maybe Dustin might be innocent.

"If you people would do your jobs I wouldn't have to violate any orders, because you would have found out what happened." She snaps back. "It's her birthday Carlos, I can't just let her go on her birthday."

"We're not gonna have any new birthdays to celebrate anytime soon are we?" She struggles for a moment over his question, wondering what on earth he could possibly mean.

"Oh my God, Carlos!" She scoffs. "I'm not a total idiot."

"I just had to be sure." He eyes her again through the mirror.

"Whenever you want to stop being my father and start being my friend, just tell me." She glances out the window. "Hey, I start work in twenty, can you just drop me there?"

"Michelle, I'm not an Uber." He chuckles.

"I wasn't gonna tip." She smirks at him, chuckling when he takes the turn for the firehouse. "He was lovely, by the way. Not even a little bit murdery."

Carlos, back to being her friend again, laughs at her. "Good."

"You know," she leans forward. "Normal friends, when their friend has sex for the first time in a very long time, are happy for their friends."

"It's not that I'm not happy for you, Chica." He taps his hands against the steering wheel. "It's just...not like you. And you've made some...questionable decisions recently." She isn't sure if he's talking about Billy or...everything else in her life. But she wouldn't call Billy 'recent', so she assumes he's talking about the multiple arrests in the last few years, and everything else since Iris went missing. "It just feels very… new-Michelle."

"I know." She mumbles behind him. It is very new-Michelle. She'd had this very problem last night. "He was really nice though." She smiles, blushing as she thinks of how sweet he was about her little freakout. "He was really nice to talk to."

"Yeah, I'm sure you did lots of talking." Carlos scoffs, smirking.

"We did, actually. We talked a lot."

"So what does he do?" Carlos asks casually, and she flushes.

"I don't know."

"What's his name?"

"Owen...something. " He eyes her suspiciously.

"You talked to this guy, a lot. You took him home with you. And you don't know what he does? Or who he is?" Her cheeks are absolutely burning. "I don't even have a last name to find out about him! How are you supposed to show him to me? How could you have sex with someone and not let me know what he looks like?"

"It didn't seem important." She defends, omitting the fact that it seemed important to her not to know any of these things last night. "I'm sorry that I can't show him to you. He was quite something." She grins.

"Just his looks? Or?" He doesn't finish his question, and she giggles slightly when she finishes it for him in her head.

"Not just his looks." She sends a wink through the mirror, and he nods approvingly. She smiles out the window, the tension from Carlos's initial questioning gone completely.

He lets her off at the firehouse, with yet another warning. "Don't want you to make a bad impression on the new team." He tells her, unlocking the handcuffs. "Good luck today, Chica." He pulls her in for a quick hug, pressing a kiss to her hair.

"Come out for a drink with me after work?" She asks, pulling away. "I'll probably be taking the team out anyway, but it's Iris's birthday." She explains. "We should celebrate it."

"I'd love to." He squeezes her hand with a nod, turning to get back into the car.

It takes her a while to walk inside, and she's glad Carlos managed to drop her off early. It's quiet when she enters, and completely different to the last time she was here.

Nothing is the way it used to be, and she has to wander a bit before finding her office. She doesn't see a soul, and she can't help but wonder where they could all be. But she's not in uniform yet, and her shift starts in five minutes. So she finds the changing rooms, and she's just made it back downstairs to meet the team, when the alarm blares, and a group of unfamiliar people rush past her.

Tim and Nancy follow the group at a stroll, and smile weakly at her when she sees them. "You guys okay?" She asks, casting her eye over the new firehouse. The pair of them shrug. "You met them? What are they like?"

"They're nice." Tim shrugs, frowning slightly. "They're okay I guess."

"Captain Strand is more than okay." Nancy mumbles with a smile, squirming her eyebrows at Michelle. The pair of them chuckle, while Tim shakes his head.

“You guys okay? You ready for this?” She’s pretty sure she’s not ready for their first call out in six months, but still, she leads them to the ambulance, her hands shaking only a little when she reaches for the door handle. “If you’re not…” She can technically get dispatch to send another team. But that probably wouldn’t do any good.

But Tim and Nancy assure her that they are fine. Months out of the rhythm of things, has the three of them silent the whole drive there. Each of them rehearsing the motions in their heads.

Michelle thinks she's finally okay, that she's ready for her first call in months. Until she hears the Captain speak, and her stomach drops. "So we have some room to work." She catches, her stomach twisting itself into knots as she steals herself for the inevitable.

"You mean give us some room to work?" He spins around like a shot. "This scene belongs to us." She looks him in the eye only briefly, a warning for him to calm his obvious panic, before she brushes past him. She does her very best to hide hers, shoving it down as far as it will go before starts to direct Tim and Nancy.

"You must have missed the part where they made me the captain of the 126." It's suggestive, late-night, Owen, and she whips around, steeling her features.

"Michelle Blake, Paramedic Captain." She introduces herself coldly. "And this scene is medical, so I run the call."

"Woah, since when does EMS tell Fire what time it is?" She has to give it to him, he does a remarkable job pretending never to have met her before. Probably something to do with his newfound talent for getting on her nerves.

"Guess you didn't read the Travis County Manual, did you?" She presses, starting to get to work.

"I'm more of a … visual learner." She doesn't miss his eyes trailing over her, and she turns her head to catch him in the act.

"In Texas, EMS calls the shots involving medical emergencies." He has a hint of a smirk on his lips, and she can't help but snap at him. "So you do what I say, Captain." It's so unlike last night, and if she wasn't freaking out so much she would probably find it funny. He hides it well, but she can tell that Owen finds it hilarious.

She's good at her job. She always has been. She knows that she's impressive, but it's nice to have an audience, and this one is enthralled. They've obviously heard that the old 126 was in serious need of a re-haul, and probably didn't have high hopes for the remaining members. When she's finished, she looks back at Owen, and he's still watching her.

"Nice work, Captain." He smirks when she passes, following behind Tim and Nancy. "Impressive."

"Welcome to Texas, Captain." She winks. Immediately, she regrets it at the flush of his cheeks. And she's brought back to this morning, in her robe, letting him out of her house. She starts back on her way to the ambulance, blushing furiously.

Xx

He's in his office when she returns. He looks like he's deep in paperwork, she suspects the county manual, but almost as soon as she sees him he's out of his seat, making his way to her office. "Captain Michelle Blake." He stops in her doorway, leaning against it. "What a happy coincidence."

"This is not a happy coincidence." She huffs, dropping into her chair. "This." She gestures to him. "Is payback from God for my bad decisions." Of course she couldn't have a one night stand and move on with her life, of course there would be some kind of consequences.

"From God?" He chuckles. "I didn't think you were all that concerned about God, Michelle?" At least, not when that god wasn't Owen in the middle of the night.

"When things like this happen, I start to think maybe I should be." Carlos is going to have a field day with this.

"You say payback." He steps into her office fully. "I say fate." She can't help but smile, blushing softly. "Come on, it's like a movie. I think that if God had anything to do with it, he's giving us a sign." It is, it's exactly like some stupid romantic comedy.

"It's not a movie Owen." She sighs. "This can't be anything, you get that, right?" He doesn't seem to get it, his head cocking to the side with a hint of a pout. "Owen, we work together now. It would be a really bad idea." He looks like he disagrees, moving to sit on the edge of her desk.

"Okay." He sighs with a nod.

"No one can know about this. No one can even suspect." A smile springs on her lips unexpectedly. "So, if in future, you could avoid checking me out when I'm working, that would be a big help."

"Fine." He grins with a laugh, before sobering up quickly. "So, you okay? First day back?" If it hadn't started with such a shock, she would probably be less okay. But she nods silently. "I know the place is really different. I know that can be difficult…"

"I'll be fine, Owen." She assures him. She's actually a little bit glad the place looks so different. She had been worried about being assaulted with memories at every turn. But the place is bright, shiny, and new. "Thank you."

He nods softly, standing from the desk. Just when he reaches the doorway, he taps it with a sigh, turning around. "I should probably warn you." He bites his lip. "TK works here, he's on the team."

"TK?" Her eyes widen, and he turns again. "Your son TK?" And he's gone.

Xxx

When she gets back from their next call, there is a cupcake sitting on her desk. Owen, the only person she can think of who would do this, isn't in his office, so she can't immediately go berate him for doing something so sweet. So she approaches the offending cake, picking up the post-it that sits under it.

Couldn't get a candle quickly. For your sister. -O

She sets the cake aside, smiling at it every now and then, while she does her paperwork. She decides against indulging immediately. It's the only cake Iris is going to get, and it doesn't seem right to eat it on her own, at work.

Owen is in the kitchen when she emerges for a cup of coffee. "Captain Blake." He greets her casually. "How's your first day back?" His head tilts towards someone rummaging in the fridge. "TK whatever you're looking for isn't going to be there if you haven't found it already." His eyes dart over to her when she straightens her spine. He smirks at her, and she glares pointedly at him.

"I don't even know what I'm looking for Dad." TK admits, emerging from the fridge with a soda. "We really gotta work on the snacks in this place. And by that I mean I gotta do it, I don't trust you.  We need things like cookies, and chips."

"There's a bakery around the corner." They offer in unison, both of them immediately flushing and avoiding the other's eyes.

"It's great," Michelle continues, thinking about many an impromptu celebration catered by said bakery. "And they like us, might even do you a deal." They liked the old team anyway, but she's sure they'll warm to any member of the 126.

TK thanks her, leaving the two of them alone in the kitchen.

"Way to not be suspicious." She laughs, almost going to nudge his arm, but thinking better of it at the last minute.

"He'll just think I've been sneaking around in secret eating illicit cookies." He brushes it off easily.

"Thank you, for the cupcake. It was really sweet of you." She blushes. "I really appreciate it."

"I told you to celebrate today." He shrugs. "I wanted to make sure you could."

"Speaking of celebrating." She starts, twisting her fingers. "I think we, the team I mean, should go out for a drink? After work?" When he starts to nod, she bites her lip nervously. "The thing is… we always went to the Honky Tonk after work." He stops nodding, twisting his lip awkwardly. "I think Tim and Nancy would like it if we did the same. And I told Chris last night I'd take the new team…"

"Sure."

"Sure? That's okay? It won't be weird?"

"Of course it'll be weird." He scoffs. "It's fine though, tell the team." She nods, starting to walk away, when he stops her. "I uh...I just wanted to ask. I left my number, on your bedside table. If I didn't work here...would you have called it?"

Her answer is easy, and it twists in her stomach. "Yes."

[genericfandomname344]

Kintsugi of the Heart (Steven Universe)

Chapter 3: Visit to Town

Previous Chapter: Here

First Chapter: Here

Summary: After their first night together, Steph decides to take Steven to town to get supplies they will need for their lives at the cabin.

Author Note: Wow, I haven't ever posted a work where I got this much attention in such little time, I even got my first review. I want to thank each and every reader who has read, favorited, bookmarked, or reviewed ❤! This was a fanfic I didn't know if I would post a third chapter for, but people seem to genuinely like this story, and I hope to not disappoint any of you. I hope you can continue to enjoy my work.

For a bit of warning, the town will have some OCs, who won't be like the townies in the actual series where they are characters and play a important role, we won't see them for the most part. They just fill the roles the town needs filled.

...

He was calm, laying on the mattress as he stared up at the person he loved.

His hands were on her shallow hips, clumsily gripping down as she moved.

He couldn't see her face fully, dimmed by the light above.

He knew it was Connie.

He knew this was their first time, it had been so long ago, but he knew it was.

By the odd noises he was making and by the awkward chuckling he heard above him. He would never forget it.

He smiled, propping himself up to kiss her.

I love you, Connie.

The words didn't reach his ears, but he knew he said them.

She leaned forward, taking his face in her warm, welcoming hands, her mouth opened, he knew what came next, comfortably holding onto her hips as he awaited her words.

The moment her mouth opened, he was jolted awake. He gasped at the sudden contrast of the dream and the real-life bed that creaked with protest as he fell back into the mattress. Dazed and still a little out of it, he heard familiar screaming on his left ear.

Groggy, he grabbed the baby monitor, listening to the screaming that radiated out from it.

Without much time to understand the context, he stared at the monitor. The voice had a filter over it, hearing it over a shotty speaker. Steven was screaming, he sat up, running a hand through his hair. Reality fell on him like a ton of bricks, he ripped his head from the pillow, lifting himself up.

Steven was screaming because he's discovered he's locked in his room.

Without time to think, he sprung from his bed and hurried down the hallway. He was on autopilot in the heat of the moment, allowing the blanket to fall off the bed in his haste.

He didn't wrap himself in the blanket last night, he had just flopped on the bed. He gripped the door handle as he sucked a breath through his teeth, having the sickening realization that he was hard- Steph would have assumed it would fade once he became dressed. He slapped his hand over his forehead, grunting curses as he swung the door open.

He wanted to close it, he didn't want to deal with this today.

But he could hear Steven's screams and the shifting of the door just in the hallway.

Jasper was already standing in front of Steven's door, conflicted before she caught sight of Steph hurrying down the hallway.

"My Diamond!" She was quick to form her stance with the symbol using her arms. "He has been upset for just a second, I would have removed the bar-"

"Jasp, it's okay. Really. Hold on the door for me." He didn't have time to tell Jasper not to call him that, or even speak to her really with the shrieking of Steven overlapping everything.

Jasper placed a hand on the door as the older teen removed the bar. Nodding to the Gem, Jasper removed her hand. Steph took a breath, and opened the door, allowing the floodgates to go free and letting Steven dash from the room like a bat out of hell.

In a flash, the young had barged out of the room and landed into Steph. He wasn't strong enough to knock him over, yet Steph grunted when he crashed into his thighs. He gave a quiet huff as he held onto Steven's shoulders, the boy crumpled once he was out of the room.

He wasn't sure what Steven's reaction would have been when he woke up to find he couldn't open the door, but a full-on sobbing mess wasn't one of them. As Steven gripped onto Steph, he sank to the wooden floor, pulling Steven into an embrace.

He didn't know Steven would be this upset by it. The boy was sobbing, grabbing onto Steph's shirt tightly as Steph pulled him into his lap, allowing the child to weep for a moment until he could grasp for his breath and find his bearings.

"C'mon, Bud, you're okay." Steph pets Steven's hair, the child was pressed into his chest, curling upon himself. Steph wrapped an arm around him, using the other to stroke his hair.

"Why would you lock me in?" Steven hiccups, finally looking up at Steph. He looked so heartbroken, so betrayed by what Steph had done.

"Bud, I had to." There was a moment of silence from Steph, making Steven want to demand a reason he awoke locked up in a space he didn't know well enough to be comfortable in. Steph hissed through his teeth. "Those monsters, the one the Gems are always fighting? They're around here, with no Crystal Gems to stop em."

Steph shrugged, running his hand over Steven's back as he spoke. "We gotta lock your door till you get powers. Keep them out." Steph patted Steven's back, grinning down at the kid. Steven pressed his head back against Steph's chest, trying to be calm after nearly having a panic attack.

"Besides, you've only been up for a minute, right? It's not that bad." Steph waved his hand, keeping one arm tight against Steven. "You weren't trapped or anything." Steph assured, "You're safe here! We just want what's best for you, isn't that right, Jasp?"

"Yes, My Diamond," Jasper answered without a thought, Steven glanced up at the new Gem, his face scrunched in confusion as Steph's muscles had gone taut. The new gem towered him just like Steph, with the same muscle-bound turned his sight on Steph, who now only looked towards Jasper with a stare that seemed so distant but focused. Steven pressed his forehead into the shoulder of the other. Steph's hand ran up and down Steven's back, letting the side of his head press against Steven's hair.

The room seemed to shift, but Steven didn't have the mindset at the moment to dwell on anything else but his emotions. Steven wiped at his eyes, then using his shirt to get his face cleared of the snot and tears as he sat back up to meet Steph's eyes, who had finally looked down at him. Steven found himself losing himself in the shapes of the other's irises in the other's eyes for only a moment, he tilted his head slightly before he rubbed his knuckles against his tear-soaked face.

"I guess…"

"That's the spirit, go ahead and brush your teeth." Steph peeled the boy off his chest, despite how he didn't want to move. Once he began to trudge towards the bathroom, Steph sat up. "Hey Jasp, mind to watch him for me? Don't let him leave the house."

"Right away, My Diamond!" Jasper straightened her back out, going to follow the other boy into the bathroom. Steph stood with a disgruntled groan, placing his hand on Jasper's shoulder and keeping a grip on her, stopping her midway towards the bathroom.

"Don't call me Diamond in front of Steven anymore." He crossed his arms, peeking into the bathroom as Steven opened the mirror cabinet, finding a new toothbrush still in the package that he began to tear apart.

"I apologize, my Diamond." She used her hand to make the Diamond authority as she bowed her head towards Steph, who took a step back.

"It's fine- really. I gotta go." He turned on his heel, slouching over as he headed towards his room. It was like he was running a circus sometimes, he hurried back within the confines of his bedroom as he shut the door, almost slamming it as he yanked the felt Pajamas bottoms further down his thighs, freeing himself as his cock strung out.

He ran his hand over his face, the one morning he wished he didn't have a wet dream. He thought having the child run into him and waller in his lap would make it go away, but it flopped out just as hard as it was when he came out of his bedroom. He was just grateful Steven hadn't noticed it amid his freakout or Jasper questioned it. Why didn't it go down? He had mornings like this, but after sometime it would just go away. He had to leave Jasper alone with Steven, he was already losing control of the situation.

He just wanted it gone.

He pressed his back to the door, leaning the back of his head against the wood. He thumbed over the tip, stroking himself as he covered his eyes with his free hands.

He would just get rid of it before the day began, no big deal.

It's been a while, with all the stress since that night he shattered Jasper he hasn't a chance to sleep much- much less than pleasure himself; he's not ever had a high sex drive, yet crashing at his grandparents' house or living in the forest doesn't give you much of a chance let yourself relax enough to do anything of the sort.

Closing his eyes, he tried to focus on something. Something he could enjoy so he can finish himself off. He found himself thinking of Connie all over again.

His first time was Connie's homecoming night, she got too nervous to go. So they took a bunch of photographs and somehow her parents let her spend the night, maybe because she had been studying so hard or they knew the two were struggling- he wasn't sure.

It's been so long since she could spend the night, they were children last time.

Alone in his room with walls, they did what most teenagers would do.

But she left the next morning for another study session.

He bit his lip, just trying to picture her on top of him.

Just hurry up and finish up

"So.. are you Steph's friend?" Steven was brushing his teeth, making his voice muffled as he questioned her. He stared at Jasper through the bathroom mirror, who stood at the door with her arms crossed, avoiding the boy's eye contact.

Jasper thinned her lips, "... Yes."

Steven spat out the toothpaste, rinsing his toothbrush with the running water from the faucet before placing the toothbrush back in the glass cup. He cupped the water in his closed hands, washing his mouth out from the minty taste before he finally asked his other question.

"Oh, are you a part of the Crystal Gems?"

"No. I'm from Homeworld."

"Mmmm…" Steven rubbed his chin. "I wonder if you're in my dimension. I mean, you can't, I never met you before. Are you from Earth?"

"I came from the Earth's crust."

"How'd you end up on Homeworld?"

"We all used to end up there, and go to other planets." She signs, a smile forming on her face. "Those were the good days. Things were simpler." Her arms were crossed across her chest, looking almost relaxed while she stood guard for Steven.

"Well, why did you stop?" Steven wiped the paste off his face, running the water again while he pulled the storage cabinet beside the sink open. He luckily found towels, pulling out one that caught his eye- a pink fluffy one.

"Gems don't do it anymore." Jasper shrugs, she was given strict and clear directions to never bring up Diamonds or details about homeworld, she didn't know how far she could go into depth with this kid.

It was surreal, staring down at the kid she used to loathe. All the times she had attempted to shatter him, it never even happened to her own Diamond. How did her Diamond just fit into place with his past self? Was he her Diamond too?- no, probably not. It was a different person, a different Diamond. It was strange.

Her vivid memories of him this small was holding him by the neck or fighting him. It was weird to watch him grow, but seeing him this size again? It felt weirder. It was hard to keep her cool, but this is what her Diamond wanted.

That's all that mattered.

"Do you know why there's no other Gems around? I mean.. Why didn't we go to the beach house?" Steven soaked a hand towel and began to rub a soap bar against it. "I don't know how to ask Steph."

"He asked me to accompany him to retrieve you. But he hasn't seen the rest of the Gems for.. A while." She wasn't sure how long it had been, human time was so confusing. Gems just went by years, but humans had months and minutes- it was all too time-consuming for a species that barely lived. Little did it matter, she was here with her Diamond.

She couldn't help the glow of her ego that radiated off of her. While they all stood in that conservatory, he specifically took her and blocked the rest of the gems off.

The look on their faces.

Her Diamond chose her, and only her.

"It's just been me and him for some time."

Steven was quiet, rubbing the suds all over his face before rinsing them off. He washed the rest of the soap off the smaller towel before tossing it in the dirty clothes bin and using the hand towel to wipe off his face.

"Sounds like you guys are good friends."

Jasper didn't say anything else, but she looked pleased. So Steven took that as a good sign. It brought a lot more questions up than answers, though.

He got off the step stool he had used, placing it by the wall next to the door where he had found it, and gave a meek look towards Jasper. "Hey, uh.. I gotta use the bathroom."

"You just used it, what else do you need?"

"I, uh. I gotta close the door and use it."

Jasper stared at him blankly, making the younger scratch at the side of his head. "Aw geez.."

Steph slapped a hand over his mouth, allowing his grunts and moans to escape against his skin. It was quicker than the last few times previous, so that was a plus to this all. He found his knees weak, as he removed the hand that was on his lips, letting it go slack against his side.

Steph slid down the door, enjoying the after bliss. His hand hung off to the side as he just basked at the moment. He lolled his head to one side, one knee was pulled to his chest, letting one arm rest on it as the other leg was spread straight out. He closed his eyes, allowing a grin to escape through. Humming in content as he enjoyed the feeling.

The instant relief he could get always made him wonder why he never did this more- he had started masturbating a lot when Connie had first rejected his proposal, it was a quick help, but it always made him feel worse in the long run. Then he started watching older shows he liked as a kid- then returned to masturbating a few hours later in a cycle as he was left alone in that house to mourn and grieve.

He thought he was prepared for when the feelings came, right before it all crashed down on him.

The guilt slapped him in the face, making him groan; frustrated with his own thoughts. He rubbed the thigh of his felt bottoms, creating friction to focus on as he sat there trying to find the strength to stand and start the day.

He thought of making pancakes for Steven and having this great morning, but of course, the one time he didn't need it- Steven freaked out and he woke up with a hardon.

It was fixed now. This morning wasn't over.

This morning still could work. He got out of the bottoms, shoving them deep into the dirty laundry bin. He got himself some jeans off the floor that didn't smell, sliding them up while making the mental note to wash the clothes today before he forgot, the last thing he needs is Jasper or Steven touching his PJs with cum on them.

Gross. I'm gross.

Freshening up the best he could with his limited supplies in the cabin's bedroom, he opened the door with shaky hands and found the hallway was empty. He bit the inside of his lip, continuing down the corridor at a calm pace.

He told Jasper not to let him out of the house, and he was sure there wasn't anything incriminating lying about- he had been so careful before Steven was brought in. Entering the living room, the beeps of the microwave hit his ears first.

Steph smiled, watching through the half wall as Steven popped popcorn, putting waffles in the toasted and slamming it down before he hurried to the fridge to look for the rest of the supplies.

"Have you ever ate Together Breakfast with Steph or me from here?"

"No. I haven't." Jasper rolls her shoulders, pressing her back against the wall. Jasper was standing awkwardly at the edge of the kitchen, leaning a foot on the wall as she just watched Steven bounce place to place in the room. At least he was getting some energy out before he ate all that sugary junk.

Steph shook his head quietly, he shouldn't be surprised to find Steven like this.

This would be something he would have done. Taking his weight off the wall, he strolled from the living room to the entrance of the kitchen, wearing Steven to get the hot waffles and quickly flung them to the plate before they burned his fingers.

"Need a hand?"

"Steph! I made breakfast!" Steven turned on his heels, almost knocking the chair over. Steph reached his hands out, ready to catch the poor kid before he just grabbed the counter to steady himself, allowing the chair to become sturdy once more. "Oops." He laughed; Steph gripped his chest.

He felt like he almost had a heart attack then. He was just happy his body didn't morph to some misshapen beast in the sudden stress. "I see that, Bud."

Steven hopped off the chair, grabbing the bag of popcorn and grabbing a can of whipped cream from the fridge. "Awwh.. No strawberries?"

"No, I have bananas. They're better for you."

Turning to his left, Steph reached for the woven basket of ripe bananas upon the counter of the half-wall. Steven pouted, Steph had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. A smile crept over his features as he handed one banana over to Steven, who unpeeled it and used his fingers to divide it up in bite-size pieces.

"I can give you a butterknife." Steph offers, unable to hide the quiet snicker while he spoke.

"It'll only get in the way of my culinary masterpiece." Steven flicked his wrist, swirling a cone of whipped cream atop his sickly sweet creation. Steph rests his cheek in his palm, crossing his other arm over his chest.

"What big words for such a little guy." Steph chuckled, as Steven puffs his cheeks, spitting his tongue out at the other, before bursting in laughter.

Steph couldn't help but join in with a small snort.

Steven grabbed one of the forks he had gathered- having three in total- and offered it to Steph.

"Together breakfast! With the brother, I don't have in my dimension. And his best friend Jasper." He grinned over the Gem who was still in the corner, who perked at being mentioned. She mumbled something under her breath.

The moment Steph had entered the kitchen, she had stiffened up, resuming her Diamond stance as he just conversed with Steven, he hadn't greeted her at all. Steph made eye contact, smiled, and said a simple, "Good morning, Jasp, you want some?"

"Is that what you want, My Steph?" Jasper's voice was clear and calm, as it always was when Steph spoke to her. The contrast of her behavior towards anyone but him was clear, but he was used to it at this point.

It bothered him to have a neutered Jasper alongside him.

"It's up to you, Jasp." Steph took the fork handed to him. He hid the grimace at the sugary pile up before him. He could feel the headache radiating off the thing. He took a fork and took a bite of a syrup covered banana piece.

"Yum. Pancakes and bananas just make sense."

Steven slashed the waffles with his fork, getting each companton and taking a bite, his face brightens as the stars return to his eyes.

"It actually tastes good with a banana! What kind of syrup is that?"

Steph cocked an eyebrow, pulling the edge of his lip to one side. "Maple?"

"I love it!" Steven moaned, taking another bite as Steph tilted his head to the side. Finding him staring at his younger self in thought all over again.

Greg couldn't afford a lot back then, so he bought the off-brand common pancake syrup. It's probably the first time he had something like this. Steph placed his hands over the kid's hair as he ate; leaning his weight on the counter as he placed the fork in his mouth, Steven's eyes landed on him as he touched him. Steph bit down on the fork in silence.

His curls were coarser than his, back when he used cheap shampoos and let the saltwater from the beach dry his hair. Steph had learned the beauty of leave-in conditioner and with his Gem power, his hair was becoming softer as his skin began to glow and change hues.

Would the same happen to his younger self while he trained?

"Steph? Aren't you hungry?" Steven broke the silence, his voice was small, worried of breaking the daze Steph seemed to be pulled into. He wasn't sure how to take his constant contact, from touching his head to his back, he finds himself in the other's touch a lot in these past days.

The stare Steph gave him was concerning, becoming clouded and impersonal. Steven could only try to continue his task as he gets that stare.

"Uh?- oh." Steph pulled his arm from the boy's personal space. He took another hesitant bite- he'd just grab a protein bar before they left. The sugar was far too rich for his taste nowadays. It was a little concerning to remember what he used to eat.

Suppose when you leave a pre-teen alone for most of his life he doesn't get the best dietary lifestyle.

Jasper hasn't inched from her position from the corner, Steph took another bite for pleasantries, turning his attention to Jasper.

"Hey Jasp, we're going off to town. You're off duty for today." The older male took his weight off the counter, leaving the kitchen. He stood within the living room, turning back towards Jasper. "Just, ya know. Keep an eye on the house."

"Of course, my Steph!" Jasper nodded her head, before heading towards the living room, Steph moving so she may sidestep and leave the house quickly. Steven swallows, frowning softly.

"Awh, she didn't even try it!"

"Yeah, I don't see her eat a lot." Steph lifted his head, trying to remember any time he remembers she ate other than the few rare times for quick fuel- did she clean that meatloaf plate? He turned to look at the coffee table, and just where she left it that night, it still laid, with meatloaf hung over one side where she almost knocked it over.

None was on the actual coffee table, so he could avoid it until the shopping was over. He breathes through his nose in a huff, he would have to talk to her about proper dish procedure.

"I'm going to get the car ready, finish up breakfast and we can go."

"You don't want anymore? At all?"

"I'm at my full potential, so my body doesn't need to eat as much." Steph grinned, giving Steven a wink as he found his way towards the hallway. "Finish up, I don't know how long we'll be in town, so I don't want you hungry, Little Bud."

The situation was in his control now, he felt better leaving Steven alone as he went back inside his room and opened the chest. Aside from the supplies, that now felt silly as Steven was all willing. He pulled the documents from the bottom of the chest, and carrying the large folds of papers, he grabbed his messenger bag, shoving them in the bag alongside his wallet, and the phone he had tossed aside in the fit of panic.

After he checked a few more times on everything he would need, he felt confident enough to depart from his bedroom, walking out to the living room. He glanced towards Steven, still seeing him eating away. Steph came to the front door. The hooks beside the door had multiple things, but all he grabbed was his keys. He ringed them around his finger, letting them clank against each other.

He whistled as he strolled towards his car. The morning air was cool, and the sky looked like an oil painting, everything felt right. Continuing his tune he pulled his phone from his bag, opening his phone up fully this time, allowing him to read his notifications.

1 New Voice Mail from Dad

3 New Texts from Connie <3

4 New Texts from Pearl

5 New Texts from Dad

The disdain from Steph's grunt was clear, opening his phone to transfer his credit card funds to an online account, and then on a reloadable prepaid card. It was a time-consuming effort, but it made sure they couldn't find his location, he stood beside the car, wanting to quickly do the process so Steven wouldn't see or question him. He was surprised that Greg has yet to cancel his card yet. Since it's been a while since he got up and left that night, Greg had to see what he was doing with the credit card.

Since he's still getting lengthy royalty checks, he must have enough for the checkups for his son still being alive somewhere. For whatever reason Greg decided to keep allowing him to leech the cash, it was enough for the shopping spree Steph had planned for him and Steven, opening the car door he flopped in the driver's seat.

He looked through the cassettes, trying to find a few for Steven to pick from. He grabbed a protein bar from the mesh bag hooked on inside of the door car, taking violent bites as he searched with one hand. Feeling the voice in his head spinning and his emotions overwhelming.

He had a lot of Greg's old junk, plenty of Sadie Killer and The Suspects, and free indie albums as he continued through the pile, he found the newest of his collection. It was Sadie's new song, with her partner. He picked it up, swallowing before he slid it in.

Placing his key in the ignition, twisting them as the car bolted to live. He turned the volume of the radio too loud as he slammed his head against the seat, letting the music drown out the rest. He took heavy breathes, feeling the emotions melt from him as he gripped his fingers into fists before releasing them slowly.

The car door beside him released, opening as he hurried forward, turning the volume down as Steven got in the front seat. He buckled himself in. Steph seemed to switch his emotions off so quick he shocked himself. "Alright, Little Bud! Let's go have some fun in town!"

"Woo!" Steven cheered, grinning up to Steph with a clear, innocent smile that Steph hadn't noticed he lost some time ago. He powered up the engine, and after a bit of backing up, began down the dirt trail towards town.

All around them was grassy lands full of trees or animals. It was something Steven wasn't used to, he had seen it when he left to the prime kindergarten on the train, plenty of times, but this was different. This forest was thick with trees and a gloomy isolated aura to the dense woods. The thoughts swarm in his mind as he stared out the windows to watch the new things pass by as Steph focused on the road ahead.

Last thing he needed was to hit another fox- he didn't want to touch a bloody corpse to bring it back to life.

"Whatcha listening to?" Steven held his hands in his lap, Steph brushed his fingers through the poof of his hair as the other hand held tight on the wheel.

"Just Sadie's new album." Steph wiggles his eyebrows, watching Steven turn sharply to him. His eyes were just as big as saucers, Steven looked to the radio as if it was gold.

"Like, Big Donut's Sadie?" His mouth went agape, as he leaned closer to listen to her voice. "I didn't know she could sing." Steven gasped, "She sounds great!"

Steph opened his mouth but promptly closed it. He glanced towards the child. He assumes he must have not heard Sadie sing yet, Steph hadn't mapped the timeline. It was truly a blur to him, it was almost startling to remember this far back in his life.

He only had to go back far enough where he didn't know Jasper since he didn't know how he was supposed to explain that.

"She actually had a band here, called Sadie Killer and the Suspects."

"Who's she in a band with? Lars?"

"Some of the popular kids." Steph taps on the wheel, using his free hand to point to the storage portion of the car between the two seats. "Go ahead and get one on."

"Whoa! Your dimension is so cool!" Steven reached over, looking into the department for the one labeled for it. "I get a brother, Sadie's in a band, you know an extra Gem, I mean, what does your universe not have?"

Steven popped out the first cassette, and filled the slot with the new one he had chosen labeled, Sadie Killer and the Suspects - Album 4

The Disobedient track came from his speakers, Steph was a bit uncomfortable with the song- the whole history of the song made him antsy, he loved Sadie's work, but now it just seemed to remind him of something he won't get back. The fact that Amethyst turned into his mom during one of the hearings of the song brought up worse memories.

He just wanted to forget that time in his life, but how do you forget your entire life?

But Steven was enthralled by the song, "Sadie sounds so.. Happy."

"She was- that band was great." Steph shifted in his seat, one hand gripping the wheel as the other was against his car window, pressing the back of his hand to his cheek. He didn't know how long he could sit there with a calm persona while they speak about this as if it was nothing.

Everyone had drifted from him, and he left without telling one goodbye. Did anyone from town even know he was gone?

"So, I'm thinking we'll get you some clothes for school, some good school supplies..." He smiled, "We'll hit the school and maybe sneak us some food before we go home."

"What about your friend?"

"Jasp? She doesn't eat much, remember?" Steph just smiled back at Steven, turning his attention back to the road. He didn't want to think, letting his mind grow numb as he focused on the road. The boy didn't speak again, Steph slothed against the cushioned chair seat.

It was sometime later when Steven finally spoke up again.

"I never live so far away from the city." Steven's words were hued with concern, the total isolation made him antsy. For Steph, that was the biggest reason he decided to take the cabin. The further he could find to hide from the Gems, his life at Beach City was his best option. "I like living so close to Beach City."

"We need to train, and if we do it close to people, we might get them in the crosshairs. We don't want anyone hurt, Little Bud." Steph talked like he was speaking from a pre-written explanation rather than something that came naturally. He knew Steven would ask about the location at some point. That was okay, he was sure Steven would ask plenty of questions now. Steph was surprised Steven hadn't demanded more answers or to see anyone else. Steven fiddled with his fingers.

"Yeah, that makes sense."

"I got it worked out, Little Bud. Just let me handle it." Steph winked towards Steven, taking a deep breath before he turned the dial for the music, allowing the music to fill the car. Steven leaned back in his seat, thumbing with his shirt as the two drove.

He never remembered pulling on his shirt in the nervous fits Steven does- but he has been plucked from his comfortable life in reality and placed in a new land away from everything he's ever known. Steph wasn't sure how to handle that, he was sure once they were all comfortable Steven wouldn't be doing that for long.

The ride felt as if it lasted longer than the previous times Steph had left for town. He's only left a few times for the town, but he hasn't stopped in the small town once since he came. He had wanted to wait until he needed to.

He was a six-foot, glowing pink man. Every place he's left towards had provided him plenty of gawks and questions, and he wasn't a good human talker, to begin with. He just needed a place out of the public eye.

And Forest Valley was the perfect place.

The town was off in the outskirts of the curving roads, the place was different from Beach City and incredibly different from Empire City.

Unlike Beach City with the ocean near, the clear skies, bright buildings, and boardwalks streets. Forest Valley had darb, brick buildings, a single strip mall, broken down single-story houses, with one chain store gas station that looked like a luxury amongst the other places.

The small town was known as a pit stop, somewhere to rest or get snacks. The Inn was near the gas station, family-owned with a shaggy painted sign of the logo. The school looked more like a prison, long brick walls with little windows.

Steph pulled into the clothing store first, the parking lot was empty but for one pink car. The small neon sign was lit up in green, labeled OPEN.

The parking lot was small, enough for maybe five cars. He parked the opposite of the lone car, turning the key to shut the car off. Steph opened the car door, sliding out of the seat before slamming the door. He stretched his arms, yawning softly. "Ready, Little Bud?"

Steven crawled out from the car, shutting the door as he rounded the front of the car to stand beside the man, reaching for his hand. "I'm not used to shopping for clothes."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, dad just used to get hand-me-downs or we just went for discount pants," Steven said, wrapping his fingers around Steph's hand. Steph held it back, opening the glass door of the store. Having Steven step in first, he sealed the door and took a moment to look around.

It was a Ma and Pa business, the display window on the right of the door wall had the hand-painted name of the store on the actual glass. The walls were wooden, with a tile floor.

The whole store was a boxed room, one area having some name brand dresses, shoes, and female accessories, a single dressing room and the rest of the store were rows of garment racks. It wasn't as well put together as a chain retail shop, but the prices were sure to be much lower- and that's all he needed.

The dimmed room only had a couple swinging ceiling fans that seemed to be going so fast it might fall off.

The cluttered room gave Steph a discomforting feeling. It was a cramped place, and for a moment he didn't see a worker in sight.

The two continued further into the building, the door had no chime for customers to be announced, and so when he saw behind the counter a teenage girl still on her phone he wasn't surprised- or cared.

Steven waved towards her, he might have tried to greet her but Steph dragged him off towards the clothes. He came to the rack meant for male children, Steph let go of Steven's hand as he pulled one hanger off to show to Steven.

"What kind of style are you thinking about, Bud?"

"I don't know.. I've always worn my star shirt and jeans. I don't think I'm Steven Universe without my shirt." Steven held the dark fabric between his fingers, furrowing his brows at the attire. "Is it okay if I'm wearing PJs in public?" It was almost like he just realized he was.

"Well, you don't have anything else to wear right now." Steph bit his tongue on one side of his cheek, sifting through the shirts before he pulled out a hanger and presented it to Steven. It was a button-up shirt, baby blue with a star pattern going around the shirt. "Something like this?"

"Maybe." Steven shrugged before Steph handed over the clothes rod to the younger boy.

"Anything that you might like, we'll take to the dressing room for you to try on."

"Whoa, a dressing room, fancy." Steven chuckled, as Steph held out a new shirt. Steven would either nod or shake his head at the various tops Steph presented.

It must have been fancy for Steven, Greg would either dumpster dive or find a cheap thrift store for pants. Most of his childhood attire was Greg's failed merch, the flip flops he wore for years were two bucks from a discount shop.

When he got older after Greg's wealth, he got himself that pink jacket, but mostly Greg was set in his ways- Greg did spend his money on random things for him and Steven, but he seemed to never really change his ways after the wealth.

Steph had placed most of any cash he had towards gas, money or the Gems. Even now, he was spending cash on another version of himself rather than anything for him. His hand reached for the next top- before he hesitated.

A creamy pink tone, with cherries going around the chest and shoulder tops in a circle sweater, stood before him. He went to skip it, but it had caught Steven's attention. Who tossed the other clothes to hang on one arm, pulling the hanger out to look at the shirt. "Ooh my gosh! Can I have this one?"

"Why do you want that one, Bud?"

"It looks like my dad's sweater… Kinda." Steven held it against his chest. "It might fit me!"

The corner of Steph's lip twitched, turning his attention towards another shirt. "It's too hot here for a sweater."

"Well… Okay." Steven placed it back on the rack, as the two continued down the row.

The next was pants, a couple of jeans and a pair of sweatpants was easy enough. The two found a few mismatched pieces of attire for some sleepwear for him, and returned to the front of the store. Steph gestured towards the dressing room by rolling his wrist in the direction of the fitting room. "Go ahead and try on the clothes- if they fit you good; and you like them, keep them separated from the ones who don't."

Steven stumbled in the fitting room, closing the smaller door behind him as he began to undress. Steph could still see his bare feet to his ankles, but not much else. He let the poor kid have some privacy, turning his head off to the side. He turned his back and leaned against the wall beside the door, staring forward as he watched the cashier still on her phone, having earbuds in as she scrolled in her reality.

That had to be unprofessional. He wanted to sulk in his thoughts, listening as Steven tried on each new item of clothes, mumbling something to himself before going to the next piece. Steven had been quiet for some time before he broke the silence.

"Hey, Steph.. I got a question about Jasper." Steven's voice was unsure, Steph felt an uneasy feeling surge through him.

"Yeah?"

"Why does she call you, uh, My Diamond?"

Steph blew some air from his nose, "It's just her term of endearment."

"She seems to really like you."

"Once she gets to know you, I'm sure she'll like you too." Steph's empty words made Steven grin, Steph could almost picture the fact of pure glee at the look on Steven's face with the quiet hum of approval he made.

"Hey, Little Bud?"

"Yeah, Steph?"

"Isn't it weird that it hurts when we fall on our stomach?" Steph paused, "Like, it feels like we pierced something in our gut."

"Yeah! And, it stinks! It's gotta be from mom's gem."

"Sure, 'course."

The room beside him was full of the shifting and moving of the boy changing outfit after outfit. "The blue star one looks okay. Can't beat the classic Steven Star." Steven said, Steph leaning his head on the wall turning to look at the door.

"Hurry up, Bud. You can have your fashion show when we get back home." Steph assured, knocking softly on the wooden door knowing Steven was taking his sweet time posing and modeling in front of the mirror.

What a little diva.

Steph wasn't sure how long it took, he had started to entertain himself with some social media app he was using a lot lately. He had logged out of each of his main accounts and made a few stock ones with a different name.

Stephan Demayo

He was still hesitant to post photos of himself, even now. Would anyone spot him as Steven? He was sure not, yet, there weren't many humans who could glow pink as he does. So he kept the profile picture as a screenshot from one of the shows he liked.

When Steven came out from the change room, he wore the blue shirt as a vest with jeans replacing the clothes he had come in.

"C'mon, Bud, you can't wear them till I pay for them." Steph shoved his phone back into his jeans pocket, going for his wallet. Steven's grin melted, he pouted as he returned to the dressing room to change back into his original outfit.

Of course Steven was out of the loop on how that would work, and it was almost endearing. If it wouldn't make it go slower. He pulled his card out, and when he was in front of the counter to pay for the clothes- if Steven wasn't there, he would have just walked out with it- he tapped his card against the surface, the movement seemed to catch her eyes, as she glanced up and found a customer glaring her down.

The teenager finally looked up, ripping her earbuds out as she shot up to stand properly before she had gotten a look at the new person. She paused when he was in her sight. "Oh.. You're... a real person. You're at that old cabin, where that old stuffy couple used to come in every year?'

Steph cocked an eyebrow, "Why does that matter?"

"It's just that- no one's seen anyone there for decades, people say that their son died and we saw a glowing man around town and down that road." She crossed her arms, rambling off. Steph felt himself losing more interest at each word she spoke. "We all thought it was a ghost." She laughed.

"That feels silly now."

"I'm sure." Steph placed his card down on the countertop, glancing behind him to see if Steven was coming out of the fitting room.

"You are very bright pink." She said suddenly, eyeing him up and down.

"Hadn't noticed." Steph tapped his fingers, his annoyance was only continuing to grow. He didn't need a random stranger to state the obvious. He refused eye contact, keeping his eyes away from the teenager. He wanted to will Steven out from the changing room.

"So, are you related to the Demayos?"

"They're my grandparents."

"Oh, so why did you guys come back?"

"Not much of your concern."

"Oh, yeah, right, uhh sorry." She laughed nervously, sitting back in her chair.

He felt his shoulders relax, exhaling as he saw Steven step out of the dressing room wearing the clothes he had came into town wearing. Holding the hangers full of clothes he decided to keep, he went to Steph's side. He began to try and place them atop the table's surface before the girl stood up, taking the clothes from his hands to scan.

"Awh! Hello little guy!" She stood up from her chair, taking pieces of clothes and scanning each of them. "Whew! You must be getting a new waroble." She grinned ear to ear, placing them in a pile on the opposite side as she continued to heighten the price with each new item she added to the recept.

"I am, I'm going to start school here." Steven began, "It's only for a couple of months, just to get my powers working." Steven said matter of factly, placing his elbow on the table as he looked at his nails in a cocky fashion. "We're training out here."

"Oh? How interesting." She passed a smile towards Steph, who cast his eyes away from the worker. She continued to mark up the items, speaking to Steven before she finally told the price for all the clothes.

Steven's eyes widened. "Whoa! That's a lot, do you have that much?"

Steph slid the card to the woman, who took it and began the process as Steph smiled down at Steven. "Of course I do. We'll get you ready for our life out here little Bud."

"I feel kinda bad, I'll only be around for a little awhile."

"Oh, I'm just gonna train you and you won't visit me ever?" Steph dramatically placed a hand over his forehead, signing with false betrayal. "Heartless, Steven."

"I can see you after this? I thought it'd be like in those tv shows, where you come around and help- but I won't see you again."

"You watch wayy too much TV, bud." Steph moved the glowing hair from his face. At that point in his life, it was hard to divide reality from fiction from books and television. No one blamed him, having extraterrestrial guardians who had magical powers and spending most of his life in front of a screen made it hard to determine what was actual life.

"I wanna come to see you and Jasper after this." He smiled, "I'll be super busy with Gem Stuff after I get powers, but we could still hang out."

Steph took the card back, stuffing it in his wallet before he grabbed some of the bags, flinging the bags over his shoulder holding them all in one grip, handing the boy two bags to carry himself. Letting Steven take a good grasp on them as he smirked down to the child.

"I'll fit you in my schedule." He teased, booping Steven's nose as the kid just laughed, and began towards the door as Steph followed behind. The moment Steven stepped out from the door, the girl spoke up.

"The school around here is pretty good. He'll do great." Her voice was soft, "It's nice to see a good kid around here."

Steph paused, before continuing forward without responding.

After they made it out, he popped the truck and helped Steven get all the plastic bags inside. He grabbed the door and lowered it so Steven could slam it shut. "Alright man, two more stops for errands, and then a treat! How does that sound, Little Bud?"

"It sounds pretty good." Steven climbed into the passenger seat, fisting his PJ bottoms as Steph entered the car, buckling up as he began to start the car. He took a glance at Steven, pulling his lips to one side.

"What's up, Bud?" Steph asked, pulling out the parking lot towards the next store. This one was more of a retail store rather than just a clothing shop. He hoped to purchase the school supplies and at least a bag for Steven to carry it all in.

He's done a bit of research on schools, talking to his Grandmom, and with his experience with Connie's school tales. He drove down the road, awaiting for Steven to speak. It took him a moment, but Steven finally spoke up in a quiet voice.

"You were just, kinda rude to the lady in there."

"Oh?"

"I heard you guys talking in the dressing room," Steven confessed, he opened his mouth again to speak, but Steph cut him off before he could hear anything else about the matter.

"Listen Steven. If someone is getting on your nerves. You don't have to be nice." He held his flat hand out, slicing the air as he spoke. "She was telling me stuff I didn't need to hear, and I didn't want to hear it. It's not a bad thing to show you don't want to talk about it."

"She just seemed nice." Steven retorted, rubbing his hands, circling his hands. "She was really nice to me."

"And you were nice to her, that's great. If you wanted to be rude. I won't stop you." Steven's mouth opened in shock, but Steph spoke before Steven could retort.

"Sometimes, Steven. You're going to meet people who don't matter. It's cool that you don't let them affect you."

"Affect you?"

"You'll get it when you're older. Just don't make attachments to every person you meet. If you do that, when they leave, it's just going to hurt you." He shrugs, "Not every person needs to be a friend."

"Can I.. make attachments with you?"

"That's different. Of course, you can, Bud." Steph pulled into the store's driveway, parking next to the door. This store was older, having an old fashioned OPEN sign hung on the door, hand-painted green with a shaky font. The sign was one you could flip for openings or closings.

The outside was wooden, with smaller windows that didn't let you get a good insight of the store. He shut off the car, passing a stare to Steven. He didn't seem to process the information the way Steph hoped, he would get it one day. If he made attachments to too many people, he'd lose himself when they left.

Walking aside Steven, he opened the door and allowed the kid to file in first. Steph followed behind, the door had a chime, a single bell that let the teenage boy behind the counter know they had entered.

"Welcome to Pa's Closet. Everything's labeled, you can find everything real easy." He was flipping through a magazine, hunched over his counter as he didn't have a chair like the last girl. He didn't look upward, speaking the words like a robot as he turned a page.

Were the only people employed around here teens- who didn't do their jobs? Steph took Steven's hand, grabbing a plastic basket from the door and guided him through the aisles. The last thing he wanted to do was speak to the townsfolk and get to know any of them. If they want to believe he was a ghost- that was fine.

He was a bit worried about Steven going to school, seeing as he would be surrounded by a constant group of children. Would it be like Connie? Where he watched her with her group of friends and stood awkwardly as she tried too hard to integrate him to the group.

Saving the universe wasn't something he would brag about to teenagers, and they would care. Even if they were impressed with some of his Gem abilities. It wasn't him they were interested in. It'd be different from Steven, Steph told himself as the two made their way into the school supply section.

"Ooh!" Steven was looking through it all. "What do we need for school?"

"Mm.." Steph pulled out his phone, searching through his notes and finding the one on school supplies. From all the mom blogs he read, this should be a correct list that anyone would need for one school year. He held the basket out for Steven, reading off the list.

"Pencils." Steph read off the first item on the list, as Steven held out a case of frog-themed pencils and pens. Steph chuckled, "Alright, chuck it in."

As they went down the list, Steven was enjoying the themed things, scented glue, fruit patterned notebooks- anything his little fingers caught, Steph couldn't find in him to tell the poor kid no. Steven was so excited by choosing his supplies, he seemed to have forgotten anything about the cashier at the last place.

"Now, we need a backpack." Steph walked further down the shelves, Steven hurrying behind as Steph scanned over the items that were scattered around. He finally found what he wanted- the small corner for backpacks.

Some were basic colors, and others were a bit more unique as merch for children's media. All of it was for the modern-day- nothing Steven would be familiar with yet. Steven had come up to the backpacks, digging through to try and find something he would like. Steph took a glance, before smiling, pulling one off the rack to showcase to the boy, who had been searching at the opposite side of him.

"Bud, this one screams you." He held it out, the backpack was themed like a burger, the entire bag was beige. The front pocket was meant to look like meat and had a ruffle meant to be like lettuce, having slices of tomatoes coming out. The zipper hook was made to look like pickles, with little sesame seeds sown on the front.

Steven rubbed his chin, pondering for a moment on the purchase before he spoke. "I prefer my bag at home, the anatomy of a hamburger is perfect. This one doesn't even try."

The sense of nostalgia came over Steph in waves, he used to love that backpack. He wasn't Steven without it at that age, taking it to do 'Gem Stuff' as he elegantly labeled it. It was nice to try and reminisce, but with those memories, comes the worse memories, and Steph wanted to avoid it.

It was hard to avoid as he stared down at the literal embodiment of his past. How lucky he was, back when it was funner before he was hit with the reality of what a Crystal Gem was.

This version of him gets a softer punch.

Steven took the bag from Steph's grasp, and Steph lets it go as he stares. "It's okay. You can't beat a classic. Wacky Sacks has struck gold with their bags."

Steph hums, rolling his eyes; Steven held the bag in one hand but continued looking for another bag. It was only a few minutes, and Steven went ahead with the one bag. The rest were more generic and Steven was a hammy kid. Of course, he would take the one themed after a burger.

This trip was shorter, the two finished up and took their supplies to the cashier, who reluctantly moved his magazine and began to check them out. He didn't comment on Steph's glow or responded to Steven at all at his attempts to be friendly.

Steph should have felt thankful- but the look of disappointment on Steven's face made his gut twist. He almost wanted to tell the teenager off- but what would that do? Steven was already uncomfortable with how he treated the other one for being so nosey.

After he finished, he ringed them up and told Steph the price. As he paid, the other male got out a glass jar and handed Steven a small sucker.

"Thank you!" Steven unwrapped it, going to suck on it as Steph signed a little receipt signature.

"Have a good day, please visit again." He pulled out his reading material once more, going back to his position without lifting his eyes. Steph pulled Steven out, mumbling under his breath before Steven waved.

"You too!"

The two finished placing the new bags in the truck, Steph slammed the truck down before giving a smile to Steven. "Ready to see your first school?"

Steven fumbled with the chest of his shirt. "It's going really fast, we're living together and training and I'm going to school." He mumbled as Steph got on one knee, taking Steven's shoulders in his gentle grip with a smile.

"C'mon, Bud. This is gonna be great! You'll learn so many new things." He assures, "You're human too. You have to be human sometimes." He stood back up, releasing Steven's shoulders before he made his way towards the driver seat.

Steven got into his passenger seat, and as the two drove towards the school, the car was silent.

The school building was one story, the building was white with half of the wall blue, the windows were wide, they were square with the muntins going down the center, and the metal doors were navy blue. The metal roofing was gray, with a small parking lot that Steven found only a few cars within.

The lot was guarded by a metal fence, the grass was sparse and the playground was covered in black tires that were shredded. Steph took a quick glance, but Steven was staring at it with an unreadable emotion- and for the first time, Steph didn't know what he was feeling. He came to a stop in the lot, grabbing his bag before he addressed the boy with a beaming expression.

"Let's see your new school."

The two walked in and were greeted by a receptionist. Her long false nails had been typing by an ancient computer, some technology from the 1980s. She perked up from the two as she smiled, her painted red lips form a wide smile on her face.

"Hello there, darlings, how can I help you two?"

"I want to sign him up for school." Steph gestures to the younger, as the woman leans up to look at the shorter child.

"What's your name, little fella?"

"I'm Steven-"

"He's Steven Demayo." Steph gripped Steven's shoulder, applying pressure when Steven tried to speak up again- wanting to protest. But he knew at that moment he wasn't allowed to speak, why wouldn't he speak? The world around him faded off in the distance as the thoughts grew. He messed with his shirt, almost yanking at the fabric.

He wasn't a Demayo, he wasn't sure what a Demayo was. He was a Universe, his dad was a Universe, his mom was a Universe. He was a Universe. The words were filtering through his panicked mind. How different was this dimension? Did Pearl or Garnet or Amethyst even exist here?

"I actually have the paperwork with me." Steph reached into his bag, pulling out a thick folder of papers, that the woman took with awaiting hands.

"And you're the legal guardian of your half brother?"

"Yep, says so right?"

"Well, we'll be happy to have little Steven come, he will be processed by next Monday."

"Hear that Steven? We'll start school next Monday!"

"That-that's good." Steven answered too quickly, but Steph only laughed in response.

"Poor guy, he's never been to real school." Steph ruffles the boy's hair, running his hands through the curls as the woman only chuckles.

"It's scary at first, you'll like it here, hun." She handed Steph a card. "Come here on Friday to meet his teachers and get a tour. It's a little too short notice right now- but we'll have him all processed and ready to go."

The pleasantries were shared, Steph continued to touch Steven somehow- by petting, patting, or holding onto him, all throughout their conversation he was being drowned in physical contact. He looked around the lobby, the room was a square, with the woman inside a box with glass walls and sliding little window to talk, the room had a few couches, and a rug tossed on the center of the floor, covered in dust.

The left wall had a glass cabinet full of trophies and photographs of their small sports teams, and even hung a jersey of the teams beside it. On the wall, were plaques of the school's credentials. He stepped closer to Steph's leg, slowly grabbing onto his jeans' fabric. This didn't look like the schools in his cartoons, bright and colorful, this one had blue and white walls, with blue and white hard tiled floors. The room looked dusty and unkempt, Steven didn't want to be left alone here.

He hadn't noticed the conversation had ended until Steph began to turn, taking Steven's hand as the two exited the building. Steph took a deep breath once outside the walls, beginning towards his car. "What a place huh! Not a red little schoolhouse."

"What did ya think, Little Bud?"

"My name's Universe." He spoke abruptly, settling into the car seat. He was proud of his name, of his family. He didn't feel right about being a Demayo. It was a cool surname, a bit more exotic than plain, ole Universe- but that was who he was. He turned this attention to Steph as Steph only hums in response, he paused before speaking.

"Thanks for not making a scene, but we're Demayos here. We gotta use a fake last name here." Steph drummed his hands on the wheel. "We can't have two Steven universes, it'd be suspicious."

"\We'll be home soon- and it'll be pretty late then, Bud."

As he pulled out of the parking lot, Steph began to ramble as Steven's emotions dissolved as he was forced onto another subject. Steph discussing dinner plans for the three of them at the house. "We could grill outside tonight."

"Cooking outside? It's been forever since Dad used his panini press in the van... Is that cooking outside?"

"Ehh.. not really, Bud."

The car drove past the stores, and turned into the lot for the gas station, Steven curiously stared over the new place.

Steph offered a smile. "I know you didn't get to eat your donuts, how about we get one before we head home?"

Steven's face was enough to know it was perfect by him. The gas station was a sore thumb in the town, being a chain gas station with multiple others around the world didn't fit the quaint sort of feel this place had. He parked the car, next to a gas tank to fill up before the long drive back to the cabin. Honestly, he wasn't sure why his Grandparents wanted a place so far from society.

At least he could enjoy the fact he was completely alone out there, only around who he needs to see now. The gas station's name was lit up, hung up by neon lights. The large glass windows had deals and promos scattered about. Steph ignored it for the most part, entering the store with Steven at his hip. The donut display was at the center of the store, the moment you walked in the double glass doors you found yourself staring at the five tiers of donuts.

One side had napkins to grab them with, and the other side had thin paper baggies.

"Pick one, Steven. We'll have our actual meal back at home."

"Donuts are a great meal, they got bread, fruits, sugar, what else do you need?"

"That's not... The jelly inside donuts is not fruit." Steph shook his head, "You need a protein, vegetables, grains? You need actual good fats." He had spent time learning how to properly care for his body, including a balanced diet. Sure, his breakfasts were still protein shakes or bars, but he's been trying to balance out the rest of his meals.

Having Steven here has been affecting that poorly, including his workout regimen, but that was going to be a short term thing. Soon Steven would be involved.

"How there be good or bad fats?" Steven questioned, shaking his head. "That just seems made up."

Steven has grown up with no adult structure on meal preparation. He's been placed in front of a microwave and oven since he was almost six and fended for himself, using pop tarts, popcorn, frozen TV dinners, and sugary sweets as meals rather than snacks.

Steph wanted to implant some healthy habits on the kid before he released him back to barely any adult supervision.

"Steven I'm putting you on a diet." Steph shook his head, walking to the center of the store, opening the plastic containers of fried desserts and taking one for himself. One without frosting or filling, as Steven grabbed a glazed raspberry filled one, giving it a quick sniff.

"I missed you." Steven hums, pressing the dessert to his face before dropping it into the white paper bag.

"I'm sure the whole day without donuts was tortuous." Steph crumpled the fold of his bag, giving Steven a nudge on the small of his back as the two came to the cashier. He paid for the food and gas, leaving the woman without much of a word given to her as he dragged Steven out. The last thing he needed was Steven getting close to any of the townspeople. They were a necessary piece of living out in the cabin, but no more.

The ride back was quieter than the one in, Steven was chewing away on his donut as Steph was lost in his own thoughts. He'd have to do plenty of the process for Steven to be placed in school.

He was shocked to hear the actual requirements for a child to attend school, documents, shots, birth certificates. He figured he could just drop Steven off there, but turns out it was a lengthy process.

When he told his Grandmom his plan, she had explained what she had needed, and Steph already felt overwhelmed.

"What if he didn't have a birth certificate?"

"What do you mean no birth certificate?"

"Well, I was born in my dad's van, and Steven was born in a house... I don't have a birth certificate. We've never been to a doctor."

The poor older woman had gasped, and she looked as if she would faint on the spot.

Poor thing.

He found it too easy for someone to fake the documents, I.D.s, and so much more for the two. Empire City had plenty of things he needed to start a new life if he wandered in the alleyways long enough.

He was snapped from his thoughts by Steven coughing, swallowing a couple times before taking another bite of his sugary delight. Steph bit at his bottom lip, guessing he should have gotten the kid something to drink as well. He figured a simple snack wouldn't leave him that dried month.

He took his eyes off the kid, turning his attention to the long roads of the forest.

The cabin came to view, and Steph parked closer to the home. He turned the key off and flopped against the seat. "We're finally home, gotta be tired after all the fun we had together today."

Steven gave a faint laugh. "It was cool to see the town."

"How much will we see those people in town?"

"Not very often, Steven. We're here to train." He left the car, stretching once he was outside of the closed vehicle. He didn't know how much longer he could sit in that seat and drive Steven around.

It was done, Steven was ready for the more human part of his life. He would be able to interact with other humans, and he could be assured he would have an understanding of the world he would have to protect.

Steph pops the truck, grabbing the supplies he knew he would need to carry, and letting Steven grab the smaller stuff. He was surprised Jasper still wasn't around, he was happy she hadn't sat the entire time awaiting his return- he was sure she was training or something of the sort. She wasn't ever too far from the cabin.

After the two packed everything inside, Steph wanted to organize it right away. "You can put your clothes in your dresser, we'll get your supplies all in your bag and hang up for school, we can start getting ready for your personal stuff." Steph talks away as Steven follows him within the room, copying Steph. He tossed the clothes on the bed, as he plopped the school supplies onto the flannel comforter.

He listened to the words, nodding along as Steph began to take his clothes and put them in the drawers of the dresser by type. Steven was trying to keep up, shirts on the top drawer, jeans on the second, underwear and socks at the finale cabinet. The two continue to fill the dresser, Steph humming, Steven lost in thought.

"You organize just like Pearl," Steven commented off handly, smiling as he placed the final part of folded jeans away.

"Well, I guess I learned it from her, huh?" Steph spoke mildly, unzipping Steven's backpack before grabbing the notebooks the two had chosen, placing them inside. Steven ripped the pencils out of their cardboard case and placed them in his new apple pencil case, shoving them in the bag.

Steph showed Steven what each item was for school, and how to put it away. Steven tried to listen but got distracted plenty of times- especially when he found out his fruit makers were scented.

After the two were finished, Steph hung the backpack on the hook hung on Steven's door.

"Alright, Lil Bud, go ahead and get changed into some daytime clothes, and we can do our laundry," Steph instructed, leaving the bedroom to grab his bin. He grabbed the felt pants from this morning, and with a shudder of disgust of himself, shoved it underneath his bed. He'd wash that later, alone. But he needed to teach Steven as soon as he can about living out here. He grabbed the clothes he had tossed aside in the past days without care and flung each in his bin.

He carried the bin outside, leaving it on the porch before returning inside to the living room closet. Sure enough, as his Grandmom promised- there was a pair of two large metal buckets, and a washing board for the two to use. He slacked the supplies together, and drug them out to the front yard, before getting a smaller, plastic bucket and began to fill it with hot water.

Steven came from his bedroom, tutting two arms full of the outfits he had worn. He went to the porch, placed his clothes atop Steph's bin and returned to the older's side. "So how do we wash them without a machine?"

"It's pretty time-consuming. But we'll make it through. We'll have it soon that one does laundry one time, and then the other does it." Steph took a bar of hard soap from the mirror cabinet, shoving it in his pocket before picking up the plastic bucket by the handle.

"Will Jasper help at all?"

"Eh. She doesn't wear clothes." Steph shrugs, carrying the full bucket of water outside, and directs Steven to take the metal bucket and washboard to the clothesline on the side of the house. It took a few walk backs, but soon they had the metal buckets beside each other, with the washboard in one, having the bin of clothes alongside it.

Steph poured the hot water into the bucket, Steven watched the steam wave off the container as Steph placed the washing board in.

"Now I'm gonna get us some more water for a rinse, go ahead and get the metal part of this thing wet, and rub the soap on it." Steph tapped the scrubbing board, listening to the little noise that left the metal with each tap. "Don't scrub the clothes yet, I'll be just a minute."

Steph returned to the house with the plastic container, pouring the hot water to the brim and taking it back to Steven. Steph poured the other hot water and taught Steven how to wash each item of clothing. Whites first, then you ring them out of soap and water and toss them to the rinse. Steph did the rinsing, telling Steven how to fold and shift the clothes in the water to assure all the soap was gone before putting them on the line to dry.

It took a little over an hour, but the clothes of the last week were washed, and Steven would be able to wear his shirt soon.

Towels, rags, and clothes all hung on the line, dripping away as Steven stares at them all.

"I like your shirts like mine." Steph pointed towards the few black star shirts Steph still owned. "Your dad was a singer here, too?"

Steph poured out the metal bucket, before shrugging. "Yeah. He was."

Steven tapped his chin. "You wear black, and the Me from here, I wear pink?" Steven took the handle of the other bucket, tipping it over as the water splashed out.

"Sure, kid."

The two carry the supplies back on the porch, "Leave the buckets and washboard to dry, I'll clean off the soap so it doesn't get scum all over it." Steph kicked off his shoes once more, stepping inside as Steven placed the buckets upside down so they may dry, following Steph inside.

"That was a lot of work, huh? I think we both deserve a good dinner." He washed off the hard soap and left it in the mirror cabinet. "Still up for burgers?"

"Yeah! It's been forever since I had any!"

"Time to end the record. We can grill them, eat outside, it's a nice evening already." Steph offers, watching Steven getting more excited at the dinner plans.

Just as they did last night, the two washed their hands and Steph retied the bandanna around his temples, Steven hummed, looking around the room for a moment. Steph cocked an eyebrow.

"Whatcha looking for, Bud?"

"I want one too, it makes you look like a real cook!" He points to his forehead, before quickly adding, "Please?"

Steph smiled, booping Steven's nose before opening one of the kitchen's cabinets, it was a junk drawer full of things, but he plucked a red bandanna and returned to face Steven, tying it gently around his head.

"There, now we're both chefs." Steph laughed, opening the upper kitchen cabinet and pulling a mixing bowl out. "We better start cooking, it's gonna get too late."

They started at dinner again- together. Steph grinning as he tells Steven what they need, something Steven was ready for this time, so he had more fun with it. He helped crumble all the ground beef, eggs, and seasonings in a mixing bowl as Steph cut the onions, tomatoes, and lettuce for the two of them. Steph got them in small bowls for each, taking them outside by the grill before returning in.

Then the two grab chunks of the meat out, forming it into patties and running their fingers over it until it is a smooth patty shape- then placing it on a glass plate to take outside. They both made two, the plate containing four patties. They had to rewash their hands before leaving outside.

Getting everything outside and ready to start was the easier part, Steph drug the grill to the center of the porch, firing up the charcoal, and got his metal spatula all gathered up. Steven held the plate of patties, grinning ear to ear as Steph buttered up the grill.

He flopped the patties on, watching the flames lick over the bars and edging over the meat, making Steven stagger back the first time. Steph took his shoulder and brought him closer to the grill. "The fire can't hurt you, it's all stuck in there. If you know how to control it, it won't ever hurt you, Bud." Steph grins, listening to the sizzle of the meat.

He closed the lid, and after a few moments, he opened the lid to a gust of smoke that flooded outward. Steven got his face a little too close and had his face feeling flushed. Steph flipped the burgers, glancing out to the forest for a moment.

Jasper still wasn't home.

Steph turned to focus on Steven, who was watching Steph work on the burgers like it was a piece of art. He almost felt like a nuclear family, a kid, a man, and Jasper's a woman- if she ever returns. Guess he shouldn't have said she had the whole day off if he was going to worry.

She wasn't going to leave him.

She hasn't left him, she wouldn't leave him. She's proven her loyalty to him over and over again, he couldn't ever be worthy of her and how she treats him now. He couldn't believe how much she has agreed to these past few months. He didn't deserve her.

He took a good look at the patties, they had good charred lines on them and were a nice cooked beef brown. "Get me some buns, Bud." Steph grins, as Steven opened up the bread buns and placed slices of cheese on each. Steph placed the fresh burger meat atop

Steven splattered the ketchup over the patty, piling the ingredients onto his burger as Steph turned the grill off, he kept the lid lifted. Allowing the smoke to filter through the air to dissolve. He dressed his hamburger, sitting on the porch chair beside Steven as the two stares out into the starry night.

"It's so weird." Steven started, "No cars, no sound from a town.." He began, swinging his feet as he took a bite. "It's just... So quiet."

"It's not so quiet." Steph looks out to the dense forestland. "You can hear the animals and little critters if you try."

Steven placed a hand around his ear to funnel the noise, pausing as he heard the crickets, the soft howls echoed deep into the darkness he couldn't see. His eyes widened, "Whoa… It's kinda creepy."

Steph scoffs, rubbing from his ear to his hairline, messing with his hair once more. "Nah, Bud. You're here with me, I can keep you safe."

Steven's smile returned, leaning his head against Steph's arm, swallowing the food in his mouth as he nods. "Yeah, it's nice to meet an older brother of mine… Even if you're not my real brother."

Steph squeezed the boy's arm, trailing his eyes down to the younger version of himself.

He looked so defenseless, his eyes stared up to Steph before he beamed. He was so small now, he hasn't aged much since he was eight at this point, right? He was still so short, his head gently pressed against his forearm, barely putting weight he could feel on his neon skin.

"Even though we're not from the same dimension, we can be brothers!" Steph chuckled, patting the boy's shoulder. "I never had a brother… so younger than me before. It'll be new to me too."

The conversation dried, following into a comfortable silence. The sound of the surrounding lands kept the porch from staying too quiet. The forest was dark now, he wasn't able to see past where Steph had parked the car. He hoped to never get lost in those trees, it was different from Beach City. The forest had sparse land and the trees weren't thick like the ones here.

He wasn't sure how long he had begun to daydream, but he noticed the bobbing of a form in a snap of his daze, realizing that the form seemed to be coming towards them. Steven grabbed ahold of Steph's free arm. "Uh- Steph? Um, I see something."

"Oh.." Steph blinked a few times, squinting his eyes to see the slow dark blob trudging from the forest. It was almost in the line of light now. "Jasp?

The figure came into the illumination from the porch lighting, the murky form stepped past the car, revealing the scratched up, dirt-covered Jasper. Her hair had debris falling out with each step, she was quick to greet Steph.

"My- My Steph. I didn't realize you would be home so early. I hope you had a safe passage."

"I did- thank you, Jasp. At ease, when the sun goes down you're off duty." Steph raised his arms, and flicked his wrists downward, trying to support some sort of casual air between the two. It had been so awkward now she registered him as a Diamond, he missed those three days before it all.

All they did was rough house and train, he loved it. He liked forgetting about the world and just focusing on getting stronger. Steven's face of confusion seemed to go over Steph's head, keeping his eyes trained on Jasper as Steven searched for answers in Steph's facial expression. Why did he talk to Jasper like that? Weren't they friends? Is Steph the leader of the crystal gems?

That can't be the reason, Jasper said she wasn't a part of the crystal gems.

Jasper's shoulders physically untensed hearing him say that she wandered up the steps and went to the bowl, grabbing a slice of tomato and munching it down.

"I thought you didn't eat," Steven mumbled, as Jasper shrugged her shoulders.

"Human food like this charges me fast and easy." Jasper tossed the last piece of tomato in her mouth, going beside the porch chairs and flopping beside them, crossing her legs.

"You trained all day again?" Steph asked, flicking a piece of dirt from her bangs.

"Have to keep my strength up, My Steph."

Steph hummed, staring back into the skies. "You ever miss it out there?"

"Everyday." Jasper breathed, remembering the best years of her life.

Steph said nothing else on the matter, only staring into the vast stars that draped over the cabin. The trio had stayed there for some time, watching the skies and enjoying the silence of company.

The rest of the evening was normal, Jasper rinsed her hair out with a hose before coming in, and the boys cleaned up after they finished eating. The dishes were put away just like last night, and Steph even taught Steven how to properly clean the bars of the grill. Steph let Steven shower as he brought in the newly dried clothes.

He placed the folded clothes in Steven's dresser but kept his PJ set from last night out, unsure if Steven grabbed himself any clothes. He went to the bathroom door, giving it a testing knock when he heard no reply, he was sure Steven was unable to hear him from the water. Wrapping his fingers around the knob, he twisted unsure if it would turn.

He was surprised to find it did, he turned the knob and stepped inside. He honestly shouldn't be surprised, Steven grew up in a house he mostly lived in by himself, and the gems never seemed interested in going to the bathroom. It was natural it would take some time for it to click. He needed to lock the door now.

Steven was still humming a tune, unnoticed, Steph placed the clothes on the toilet lid. He was sure Steven would be grateful not to hurry across the hall in a towel for clothes. He glanced towards Steven.

The shower curtain was cheap, a beige yellow that still let him see the form of the younger boy. Steph shook his head and left the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He tossed his clean clothes atop his dresser, it's been a while since he had placed the pile of clean clothes back into the dresser. All that was left in his drawers was his collection of clean underwear and socks.

Steven left the bathroom, still drying his hair with a towel as Steph scurried after him. He placed the pile of clothes he chose on the lid just as he had for Steven, undressing and leaving the day's clothes in the bathroom's laundry wicker basket.

He locked the bathroom door and entered the tub with a soft sign. He turned on the water, not caring about the temperature. He just needed the noise from the water running over him, as his thoughts wouldn't fog him over too badly.

Whenever he was around the younger boy, he could forget his thoughts and past. He was Steph, he was Steven's older, wiser, better brother. He knew better, he didn't make dumb mistakes- he didn't purpose to Connie and ruin things with his Dad. He was above all of that. He was a trainer, he would train Steven to use his powers.

And then he would lose Steven.

He numbly dunked his head under the stream of water to wet it, before he used a pump on some men's shampoo bottle, massaging it into his growing hair. It was growing more as the days went on, getting wilder and fluffier.

He kept running his fingers through the soft mane.

He didn't want to lose Steven, how long would they train? Years? Just long enough for him to grow attached and lose another person in his life? Steven would leave this dimension, he might be old enough to realize Steph was lying to him? Then what? He wouldn't want to be around Steph once he gets his powers. He'll be too busy.

Would his Crystal Gems even believe him?

They have dealt with time travel before, it wouldn't be much of a stretch. How would they feel about Steph? He could imagine Pearl's reaction seeing Steven looking so much like her-

Steph took a shaky breath, leaning his head back as the stream cascades over his stud filled hair, leaving his arms firmly at his sides as he stared up at the ceiling. Well, if the Gems didn't believe Steven, he could always come back to him in his dimension.

They could stay like this, Steph being not Steven, and this Steven being trained the right way. He ran his hands over his face, leaning his head inward taking a deep breath. Nothing would be that easy, he supposes.

He needed this stress relieved, he didn't know if he could keep his facade up if he walked out the bundle of nerves he felt right now. After a moment of cooling breaths, he wrapped his fingers around his flaccid cock, honestly, was he gonna do this? Did he do this too much? He wasn't sure how much others did this.

He could hear Jasper and Steven talking, distant over the water that rained over him, but the faint conversation appeared light- he heard Steven laughing. This was the best time he might have.

He gave a few experimental strokes, his dick still soft in his fingers. He huffs, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to picture something in his head to get him off. He doesn't get off by a lot of things, back before he had a bedroom divided from the rest of his temple, he used to masturbate in the shower, phone in a plastic baggie and muted as he watched random porn he could find in a google search of the word.

He found most of it unappealing, but he still jerked one off at least once a week in a longer shower period.

He almost wished he brought his phone. He tensed, trying to rack his memories for something appealing and easy. He remembered once when Lion brought Connie over during her fifteen-minute study break, after some time making out, Connie reached beyond the jeans' zipper.

It was the first time they had done anything like that, she seemed so much more experienced than him, her lips met his, the bodies mashing together as she stroked up to his tip and then down to his base.

He huffs, covering his eyes as he continues to jerk, harder, more clumsy than she had. He kept imaging her arm wrapped around his waist, a hand on his groin as she kissed him so deeply. Like he was her entire world, he kept going, thinking of her hair that was against his cheek that smelled of coconut, and how he couldn't keep his eyes open long, however, he remembered how she looked into his face with such love.

He thumbed his tip, biting his bottom lip so he wouldn't make a noise. He shuddered, filtering a breath through his chapped lips. He kept thinking of her, he was far from the shower tub, now in a fuzzy place that only existed the couple, and liked that.

The fire in his gut only grew, making the muscles in his stomach stiff as his stroking was only becoming erratic, going fast as he chased his climax before he lost it. He just wanted her.

The moment he climaxed, her timer went off, and with an apology, she left on Lion. He just wanted her so badly, to stay, to cuddle or something. He just dozed off in his bed afterward, feeling more lonely than before she had arrived.

He groaned, regretting even recalling that part. He kept going, hurrying himself to finish before Steven grew worried. He gripped his hair, moving his wrist, panting underneath his breath.

He kept picturing Connie's face, looking up at him. He pressed the back of his head on the tub's wall, thinking of her expressions, a grin forming on his face.

When he finished, the last thing he saw was Steven's face looking up at him on the porch, smiling with adoration painted on his face. After the few squirts of cum shot from his tip and landing on the curtain, he caressed the skin a few more times. He gasped for air, feeling so many emotions.

The biggest was disgust, brought back to reality as the now cold water hit him he scrambled out of the tub, splashing water over his face. "What the fuck…"

He gasped, staring into the mirror, the diamond irises glare back towards him. He lowered his face, washing his face once more as he breathed through his mouth, he tasted the soap and facet water, he didn't care.

Cupping water in his hands, he flung it into his face, the cold making him shake softly, "I was, I was just.."

He's just stressed. This has brought him under so much pressure, when he was about fifteen he knew the last seconds he was in a dream and about to wake, his brain racing to show him one last thing before he woke, his mind showed him terrifying images of the Diamonds, making him wake in a sweat.

Steph only thought of Steven because he was so stressed and he kept thinking of worrying him, hearing him beyond the walls. It was nothing more. The still nude teenager turned the water off, he had carelessly left it on as he escaped the tub, patting himself dry before using the towel to mop the moisture off the floor and finally brushed his teeth.

Dressing into his nightwear was the least of his worries, he shoved the towel into the basket and left the restroom in a sweat. He walked down the hallway in a daze before Steven ran up to him, holding some VHS of some withered box art of a cartoon. "Can we watch it before bed- like last time?"

Steph wanted to tell him, no, to go to bed because he felt shame looking at the younger, but that wasn't fair. Taking his feelings and making the boy's life harder because of it. He signed, forcing a smile. "Of course, Little Bud."

As the movie rolled on, he felt relief. Jasper was at the end of the couch, narrowing her eyes. Contemptment had washed over her features, she was not enjoying the little film playing but wouldn't complain as to offend her Diamond.

Steven was interested, and that was all he cared for. His arm resting on the back of the couch as he played on his mobile, Steven had found a place against the older male's side to lay against, completely focused on the animation. Like all of them, the children's movie was from decades ago, and as plain as could be. But Steven still liked crying breakfast friends, so he wasn't surprised that the younger was drawn in by this.

The movie was at the halfway point when he realized Steven was snoring against his side, a dot of drool staining his shirt. Steph sat up gently, placing a finger over his lips as he looked to Jasper, pulling Steven into his arms.

He was used to carrying five times his weight while working out with Jasper, so the small form in his arms felt like a pillow compared. He stood slowly, lifting himself as he stared down at Steven's face for any changes.

Guess he tired the poor boy out. He held him to his chest, taking him past the living room and towards his bedroom. Steven stirred slightly when he laid him down on the bed, but after placing the plush star in his arms the boy curled, falling back into slumber as Steph tiptoed from the bedroom. He made sure to place the bar right under the knob, leaving back to the living room.

He turned off the television, to Jasper's great delight. "Thank you, My diamond."

"No issue." He stood back up, straightening his back with a groan. "I miss training."

"I miss training with you, My Diamond."

"We'll start training with Steven tomorrow, it's gonna be baby steps. He doesn't have any powers." Steph held his hands out, using the flats of his hands to gesture something was small in his hands. "We gotta go soft on him."

"Are you sure- softness isn't good for training, My Diamond."

"He's weaker than the kid who you knocked out with a punch for hours. Don't worry, Jasp." Steph smiled, "He'll be just as strong as me, just won't be three days." He chuckles, Jasper only nodded her head.

"Yes, My Diamond."

Steph found himself in the armchair again, Jasper was unmoving on the couch.

"So, how did your workout go?"

"Same regimen I've always done. How was gathering the supplies?"

"It was alright, we just got the things we needed." Steph shrugs, not wanting to go into a deeper discussion on what took place today, he wasn't in the mood to explain too much more on human society to Jasper- it was hard enough when he was with his grandparents.

He wasn't sure how long he spent having a conversation with Jasper, but he felt himself becoming tired, almost falling asleep. He gave his goodnights to Jasper, and got up from his chair, leaving towards the hallway.

Steph found himself weak, drifting into his bedroom in a daze as he flops onto the mattress, he took the thick blanket and wrapped the corners around himself, wanting to cocoon himself and just sleep through the night. He grabbed the baby monitor, pulling it close to his face.

His eyes flutter close, and just as he was almost semi-conscious he began to hear a noise over his monitor.

"Steph?" The meek voice didn't raise itself much, Steph barely hearing it- he knew it was Steven's.

The small voice filtered from the speaker of the monitor, with a confused groan, Steph opened an eye. He wasn't sure if he imagined that, keeping the eye on the baby monitor for any more activity. He hoped Steven would just go to bed, realizing that it was past his bedtime.

"I.. I had a nightmare."

He could hear tugging, Steven was tugging on the door now. Steph hated getting nightmares, especially since most of the time he was alone in the house. Greg was asleep in a van with no phone and at that time he couldn't open any of the rooms. Steph lifted himself on his elbows, staring at his door with a huff. He placed the baby alarm back in the cabinet, rubbing a hand cover his eyes to wake himself up.

He lifted himself from the bed, peeling the blanket off.

When he took the bar off, he was happy to not have Steven bursting out this time. Steven looked just as tired as him, one hand holding the star plush and the other rubbing his eye. He plopped his head against Steph's thigh. Steph bent over, taking Steven's underarms and plucking him up in his arms.

"You can bunk with me tonight, Bud, how's that sound?" He turned on his heel, patting the boy's back beginning to stroll down the corridor.

Steven just made a noise and laid his head on the older's shoulder, wrapping his arms around his neck. Steph shut his bedroom door with his foot and laid down with the boy still in his arms. Steven curled in on himself, releasing Steph's neck to rather hug the plush and press his head into Steph's chest.

Steph pulled the blanket over the two and leaned back against his pillow, still facing Steven. Steven's head barely touched his neck. Steph wrapped an arm around the boy's shoulders and back, keeping him close, Steph never really realized how tiny Steven was.

He felt so weak in his arms like this. His eyes grew heavy, sealing them closed. The two started breathing in a rhythm together. Steven had fallen back to sleep effortlessly, enclosed between a warm body- his muscles slake against the other's body. Steph found himself just laying there, feeling the soft form in his arms.

He was so soft and small like this, it was almost therapeutic to hold him close. It felt right, having him fit perfectly within his caged embrace. He was so defenseless at this state, has he even learned to summon his shield at command? Steph lowered his head, his chin ruffling his head of hair.

The fact anyone wanted to hurt a child like this, made him feel a swirling pot of emotions. He remembers those traumatic memories as the child, but seeing his child self, seeing how naive and untouched by the world he was- it made it worse, somehow. How all those things happened to someone so young and fresh to how things work.

He started to idly rub up and down on his back, it'll be easier for him to deal with those things when he's older, a better understanding. He will have everything Steph needed- Steph only wished he could've had.

Steven needed him, and for the first time in a while, he knew he was true with a purpose. He had someone who wouldn't leave him so quickly, maybe never, if Steven wanted him around after his childhood was spent and gone.

Steph pulled Steven closer, and fell asleep, sleeping better than he has in some time.

...

The show is over and I still haven't watched the finale because I can't watch this show end? I've been watching it for seven years? Please that's my emotional support son. Thank you again for reading, I am so grateful for all who take time out of their day for my fanfic. Thank you to everyone who went up and beyond to comment and leave kudos.

Ahhh, I know this chapter is probably bad, but thank you for reading :) Steven is still hopelessly obsessed with Connie at first, but that will fade. Don't worry

[thelioncourts]

title: the mannequin gallery fandom: captive prince pairing: damen/laurent rating: mature words: 5366 for chapter six (6/?); 35387 all together

Damen was almost certain that his dream had been a pleasant one. There wasn’t anything all that concrete he could hold on to in memory of it, but he recalled lots of sunlight and the smell of freshly baked bread. He would have liked to have continued in that dreamworld for a few more hours, but it had been interrupted by a sudden –

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The person at the door, Damen first thought upon hazily waking up to the sound, must have a death wish.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Still too asleep and too caught up in trying to remember if the warmth from his dream had been from the sun on his skin or the warmth of an oven, Damen couldn’t even process a second coherent thought yet. Instead, he groaned. It was that overly loud kind of groan someone might do after not having used their voice for a few hours. Then he turned his face into the pillow, willing the person on the other side to magically disappear.

Knock knock knock.

“Damen.” Nik groaned too, his groan somehow sounding more frustrated in its tone than Damen’s own. “If you don’t answer that right now, I will not be responsible for the murder I commit.”

Damen ignored Nik for a moment, flipping over onto his stomach and bringing the pillow up and over his head so it muffled the sounds from outside.

Knock knock knock.

With yet one last groan, Damen threw his legs over the bed and stared blearily at the red lights of the alarm clock on the joint nightstand between the two beds. 5:47. When there was again another knock knock knock, he finally stood up and shuffled his way across the room.

Damen really was normally hard to frustrate or anger, but exceptions could be made for ridiculousness such as incessant knocking before six in the morning. It’s why, as he crossed the floor and flung open the door whilst rubbing sleepily at his eyes, he didn’t even have anything particular he planned on saying to the person on the other side, he was just going to say whatever came to mind. And, if he had actually stopped to think about that before he did it, he would have probably tried to stop himself because he was (rightfully) pissed off and nothing good ever came from greeting anyone while (rightfully) pissed off and –

After he pulled the door open, it took his sight a moment to adjust and come to the realization that it was Laurent DeVere standing outside his hotel room.

Laurent, very much unlike Damen, appeared to have been up for some time already. He looked impeccably put together, a black peacoat falling just below his waist and leading down to black pants and black shoes similar to what he had been wearing the other evening, and his eyes – blue and bright – looked perfectly awake.

“Hi,” Damen said dumbly, a total one-eighty in his voice from what he had intended.

“Were you planning on sleeping the day away?”

It took Damen a moment to react, but when he did, he squinted as though trying to make sense of conversation. “It’s not even six in the morning.”

He realized they were talking too loudly, and he began to whisper in courtesy for the old woman staying in the room next to their own. Damen and Nik had run into her once or twice as she gallivanted from party to party, and she was quite a firecracker.

“I thought I was giving you two a grand tour of my city today. So unless you plan on wasting my time, I suggest you put on whatever you consider clothing and come get a coffee so we can begin,” Laurent said, already turning and walking back down the hotel hallway.

“But what about –” Damen began to call out after him, but Laurent didn’t turn around and Damen didn’t want to yell anymore. With a heaving sigh, he closed the door and went back into the room where Nik was sitting up on his own bed, his hair a mess of darkness and his mouth pulled in a sleepy frown. Then he flopped back onto his pillow and gritted out, “Please tell me I didn’t hear who I think I heard.”

[Continue on AO3]

“Laurent asks that we go downstairs and meet him for coffee immediately,” Damen said, already rummaging through his bag and pulling out some clothes.

“Well Laurent,” Nik started, “can begin to learn that not everything has to be done on his pompous self-regulated schedule. I’m going to need at least half an hour.”

“I’ll buy you whatever you want if you say that to his face,” Damen said with a laugh. “How about I go right now so he doesn’t go on some kind of diva-freakout, you order a cappuccino from room service, and he and I meet you back here?” Damen offered. He flicked on the bathroom light and Nik groaned again.

“A cappuccino sounds really nice right now.”

Damen’s morning routine was simple enough. He jumped in the shower for no more than five minutes, and then he was out and brushing his teeth, combing through his hair, and drying off best he could before pulling his clothes on. It didn’t matter to him if his hair was still wet before walking out the door because he never did much to it anyway; his curls had a mind of their own.

Laurent was waiting for him. Well, actually, Laurent was waiting for them. Watching the door for a moment, Laurent turned to Damen with a delicately quirked eyebrow.

“Your friend not coming?”

It hit Damen, suddenly in that moment, just how odd this situation was.

Not even a month ago, Damen had been entirely in the dark about Nik’s attempt to begin something professional with his photography and now Damen was grabbing coffee, alone, with a model he had met sporadically over the course of three days so said-model could show them around Paris.

But if Laurent found it odd, he didn’t show it. Instead, he waited for a response.

“He’s just waking up,” Damen said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “He’s going to order a cappuccino from room service and then we can all meet up.”

Not missing a beat, Laurent didn’t say anything else, but began to walk, his demeanor full of an arrogance that Damen would simply follow. Damen did.

The streets were relatively empty of people and it allowed Damen to pay attention to the things one missed while dodging foot traffic, like the intricate designs on buildings, on the flowers just beginning to bloom, on the way the wind snuck through the gaps between buildings and rustled his hair. But with such a leisurely walk at hand, Damen found his attention wavering to the stranger at his side.

It was a confirmation to Damen that Laurent was a thousand times more beautiful without anything on his face. His outfit wasn’t attention-getting, his hair was simplistically done, and yet he was impossible to look away from. In fact, without anything deterring one from looking at only him, Damen found that there had never been anyone he’d ever seen with such effortless allure. (Nik would tell him right now he was biased and always weak when blond hair was involved. Actually, Nik would probably tell him just that at some point today.)

Realizing he was staring (a horrid habit he seemed to have mastered since arriving in France), Damen asked, “Do you go get coffee this early every day?”

“Nearly,” Laurent answered, not looking in Damen’s direction. “Mornings are often quiet. I try to enjoy them unhurried.”

Before Damen could comment back, something about how his and Nik’s mornings were often hurried in trying to visit entire cities in a week or less, or how the only time they got coffee this early was when they were already at the airport for a before-sunrise flight, Laurent was turning and walking through the doors of a cafe.

It was a small place, unsuspecting with its glass doors with gold handles and a handful of tables both outside and inside. The tables were black, as were the chairs, with only the smallest of gold decorations on them. The counter to order was also black, and very tall, and it was all so very much like how Laurent dressed himself, so very much opposite of how Etoile did anything Damen had seen yet. Damen couldn’t help but smile.

The baristas here seemed to know Laurent too, reacting warmly to Laurent’s ‘Bonjour.’ Without even needing to order, Laurent paid for whatever they were already preparing. After his own ‘Bonjour’ and weathering the curious gazes of the two baristas as they looked between him and Laurent, Damen ordered un petit café. Laurent grimaced visibly.

“What?” Damen asked after paying.

“It tastes like what I would guess gasoline tastes like going down your throat,” Laurent said. He motioned to where the barista was pulling the singular shot of espresso into an espresso glass, the crema on top sleek and shiny.

“It’s not that bad,” Damen said. Just then, the second barista handed Laurent his drink. It looked to be un café crème, a latte-like drink of espresso and steamed milk. Damen couldn’t help but notice the pile of sugar cubes next to the glass.

They took a seat outside, per Laurent’s lead, and Damen watched as Laurent took one of the sugar cubes and dipped it into his café crème just long enough for the sugar cube to take on a light brown color before popping it in his mouth.

“You like sweet coffees, I take it?” Damen asked. His espresso was warm in his hands.

Laurent hummed and took a drink. Damen wondered, briefly, if he was using the coffee to wash down the graininess of the sugar cube or if he was using the sugar cube to continue to sweeten the coffee he was drinking. “I was in New York for fashion week a few years back and tried this horrid sugary concoction they tried to pass off as coffee. It was a double-shot of espresso in a pool of chocolate and caramel, shaken with milk and ice, and topped with whipped cream. It was delightful. We don’t have anything quite like that here.”

“I’m pretty sure something like that would be considered blasphemy.”

“Very un-Parisian in every way,” Laurent agreed. He popped another sugar cube into his coffee, then his mouth.

It got quiet for a moment. Damen sipped his espresso and his mouth puckered at the taste. He had heard that Parisian coffee wasn’t up to par with expectations, but having spent as much time in Italy as Damen had in his life, he had a coffee-tuned palette that was displeased greatly with the drink in his hand. Across from him, Laurent was looking out at nothing in particular. This close, and with the newly shining sun facing them, Damen could make out the length of his eyelashes.

“So,” Damen began after it started to feel awkward, after he couldn’t help but shift around just to do something that wasn’t sip on espresso and stare at Laurent, “why are you doing this?”

“This?”

“Showing me and Nik around.” Damen paused as though thinking about what he was going to say. In reality he was waiting for Laurent to respond. When Laurent didn’t, Damen continued. “I’m not trying to sound rude, but you don’t exactly seem the type.”

That got a smile, however small, out of Laurent. “You don’t say.”

This time Damen did wait while Laurent, unhurriedly, took a drink of his coffee.

“I hadn’t been lying when I said that this would keep my uncle off of my back. Every year I spend weeks enduring his demands that I participate with his Paris’ Got Talent search photographers and every year that I don’t, his patience wears thinner. Over time I’ve chosen at least one photographer to,” he did air-quotations with the hand not holding his cup, “‘get to know’ for a day so that I can’t be lectured when I abandon the Friday luncheon early.”

“You’ve done this a few years?”

“Of course. It didn’t take me that long to figure out what to do to appease him.”

“And what made you choose Nik? Why not choose Guillame or someone else?”

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself,” Laurent began, leaning back in his seat and crossing one leg over the other. “Guillame is a mumbling and weak little thing. Had I approached him about anything he would have pissed himself before he could find words. Hendric had other matters to attend to. Those matters, of course, being one of our makeup artists, Genevot. Talik and I would have had more conversation with a brick wall than each other, and Jeurre is a friend of my uncle’s and I am tired of old French men who are friends with my uncle. That, you barbarian, is how I found myself stuck with your friend and, in turn, you.” He paused to take another drink. “You two may be social media celebrities, but nothing could be easier for me than giving you a tour of the city I’ve spent my entire life living in.”

Damen ignored the jab about being a social media celebrity. “Alright, that’s fair enough.”

After running their dishes back indoors, Damen waited for Laurent to get off of his phone so they could go back to meet Nik. While walking, Damen found himself saying, “I don’t understand why you want your uncle off of your back so badly though,” before he could stop himself. He might as well have not said anything at all though. Laurent didn’t react.

Nik was ready and outside by the time they arrived. He had his camera in hand and was taking advantage of the emptier streets like Damen had, only he was using the opportunity to snap photos of Paris in the soft morning light. There was no acknowledgement from him that Damen and Laurent had gotten there but instead, like it was instinct, he turned the camera to Damen and Damen simply talked.

They fell into their normal routine.

“Routine” was probably an extravagant word for what they did. The reality of it was this: Nik occasionally had Damen move around and they chatted while Nik took photograph after photograph after photograph. Damen had learned a long time ago he couldn’t just stand there, it was too awkward, too forced. This “routine” allowed for Damen to not feel like he was doing something fake while also allowing Nik experience with a moving subject. It’s what had built Damen’s Instagram, these candid photos taken while Damen sometimes talked about the most mundane of things, like what he wanted for dinner or that tomorrow was leg day.

They chatted about nothing in particular at this moment. Damen asked how the cappuccino was, Nik said it was shit. Nik asked how the espresso was, Damen said it was shit. They discussed how shit French coffee was and how the next time they were in Italy they were going to drink espresso by the gallon. It wasn’t until the sun had completely risen over the horizon that they both remembered Laurent.

Laurent had been completely silent as they had gone on about like the day was any other day in a new city. When they both turned to him, he was leaning against one of the many columns of the hotel awning, his expression almost amused. Then, with a bored tone, he asked, “Are we done here? Or are you planning on standing outside of your own hotel the entirety of the day?”

On foot, they were able to witness how the streets gradually became busier with bustling herds of people off to work and tourists wandering in every direction. Despite the growing population around them, they could have easily gotten to wherever Laurent was leading them in a short amount of time, but Nik was stopping every five steps to take a photograph of something new. After about twenty minutes of this, Laurent finally let out a huff of annoyance. Damen was pretty surprised he held himself back that long.

“If you would stop taking pictures of every godforsaken lamppost in the city, you would find we are but a street away from something actually worthy of attention.”

In front of them was a building that looked to be made from the mind of Lewis Carroll. It was the polar opposite of everything else along the walk of the now very familiar Rue de Rivoli street, namely for the faces from a Steampunk world that stared out at every passing Parisian and tourist, beckoning them to come inside its bright yellow front door.

Laurent didn’t say anything. He waited while both Damen and Nik walked the outside of this odd building to take in the colors and the signs and the flowers made of metal hanging off of its railings and when he decided they had had enough time, he wandered inside. Upon entrance was a spiral staircase littered with hundreds of writings in mostly French, but there was also English, Arabic, Spanish, German, Mandarin, and Korean that Damen could spy along the way down.

Nik found a painting on the wall to their left, a painting of realistic gemstones glittering between the bones of a stark white skeleton. Next to it was a painting from the election in 2010. Next to that was a drawing of a school desk covered in various graffiti.

“What is this place?” Damen asked, his head tilted up to take in the paper airplanes hanging from the ceiling.

“59 Rue de Rivoli. Otherwise known as the Aftersquat,” Laurent said. He began descending the spiral staircase. “In the late nineties, three artists broke into this building. It had lain abandoned for nearly fifteen years and they had decided it could be put to much better use. Thus, it began to become what it is today, a set of artists’ studios.”

Damen and Nik followed, their eyes trained on the walls. There was every kind of art style imaginable along the way. Damen wasn’t an expert, but he recognized pop art and realistic art and abstract art. There was art that looked like it could have belonged in an old church, its style Renaissance-esque and Biblical. There was traditional and modern Japanese art as well as minimalistic art. It was overwhelming to the senses and yet entirely captivating.

“This place is insane,” Nik breathed, his eyes caught on a painting of a woman staring into a lake at her own reflection.

“It is French counter-culture at its finest,” Laurent said.

They were walking by a room that they realized quite quickly wasn’t a room at all, but an open artist studio. Laurent continued on, but Damen and Nik both stopped to peer inside when a man who had been staring at the doorway stood up from a desk and came out to the hallway far too excitedly.

“Laurent!”

Laurent turned to face the man, his face unreadable. “Torveld. I didn’t know you were still here.”

“I took a two-year sabbatical from the studio to return home for some time, but I couldn’t stay away. Paris has too much beauty to leave behind,” the man, Torveld, said. His face, unlike Laurent’s, was entirely readable, full of adoration and awe at Laurent’s presence in this place. “It is wonderful to see you again.”

“You as well,” Laurent said. “I assume since you’re back you’ll be meeting with Charls soon. He still adores your work.”

“I very much hope so. He’s great to work with and he does work with the most beautiful of models in all of Paris.”

Damen and Nik were standing somewhat to the side, quietly taking in Torveld’s blatant flirting. Nik gave Damen a look that said he was making a silent prayer in Torveld’s honor.

“Charls is wonderful, I’m sure you two will create something just as stunning as the last time,” Laurent smiled. “I’m sorry to rush off, but I did promise these two a tour and we’re already horribly limited on time.”

“I apologize,” Torveld said with surprise in his voice and even a little bit of laughter. “I’m being rude. I am Torveld Patran, one of the artists here in the Aftersquat. This is my third year of residency.”

“Damianos Vallis.”

“Nikandros Kyroi.”

Torveld motioned to the camera in Nik’s hands. “Are you one of the photographers for Etoile’s show this year?”

“Yes. Rehearsals start next week.”

“What an exciting time. Etoile truly houses the best Paris has to offer.”

“So you’ve said,” Damen chimed in.

Laurent was already down four steps toward the next level, and he threw a dismissive wave in Torveld’s direction as an end to the conversation and Damen and Nik did the same, their curious eyes focused on Laurent’s retreating form.

“This is the level that, I believe, will interest you the most,” Laurent said. Around them were photographs layered upon one another like they were pages in a book instead of art on the walls. There were black and white photos to the left and colored photos to the right, all of a variety of subjects. Nik, nearly in a trance, immediately wandered to the photos of a desert near the top of the right wall.

“You seem familiar with this place,” Damen said in reference to the building and its inhabitants as he watched Nik with a smile.

Laurent hummed. “Charls, Etoile’s designer, loves this place. A few years back he was here looking for inspiration for Paris Fashion Week and met Torveld. Torveld’s art is painted on fabric. Charls adored him and had me come meet Torveld as well and to compare Torveld’s art with my skin and my hair and so on. That year, it was no surprise the designs were based upon Torveld’s own. But I came to enjoy this place more than most.”

“Why?” Damen asked. Laurent turned to look at him, his expression unreadable once more.

“My uncle despises this place.”

Damen was going to respond, but just then Nik called him over to point out a photograph of Pulpit Pit. They both brought their phones out to pull up their own photos from that trip which had, of course, involved some very fun rock climbing at a different and less touris-filled area of the Rogaland region. While they talked, Nik began to take pictures of the room, of Damen, of the view down the rest of the open spiral staircase. Like at the hotel, they fell into what was natural for them and only when they remembered they weren’t alone did they stop to face Laurent who was leaning against one of the photograph-covered walls.

“I’m not used to not being in front of the camera,” Laurent said.

“Sorry,” Nik began, fumbling with the camera as if trying to figure out if he should put it down or turn its lens toward Laurent.

“It’s quite more relaxing on this end. Perhaps you can fill in for me during Fashion Week,” Laurent said, angling his head in Damen’s direction.

‘I could fill in a lot if you’d like,’ Damen found himself thinking before he could help it, but, luckily, he bit his tongue. Nik threw him a glare as if he knew what was running through Damen’s mind.

They wandered through every floor of 59 Rue de Ravoli with wide eyes and a camera ready for anything. Damen’s favorite art was a section of one of the walls on the fifth floor that was made like an ancient Greek creation, all inlaid with gold and people with straight noses. Nik kept wandering back to the floor with all the photography and even had a good chat with an artist that showed up around nine in the morning. Eventually, after they had seen a lot and not even a quarter of what was there, they exited out of the multicolored side of the door to leave.

The streets were busier at this time, but in the earliest days of March it wasn’t near as busy as it could have been such as in the summer. Laurent didn’t miss a beat in walking out of the door and onto the streets, and he began walking toward wherever he had set his mind to go. Like before, they would have gotten there earlier if it hadn’t been for Nik only, this time, it wasn’t really Nik’s fault. A group of (assumed) friends across the street were struggling in getting a group photo and when they saw Nik’s camera in hand they yelled across the way, causing quite a scene, to ask for a few pictures of them together.

“We’ve never been to Paris,” one girl stammered out, looking stressed.

“And we don’t know if we’ll ever get to come back!” another girl said.

“And selfie sticks can really only do so much,” one of the boys said too.

After a shove on the shoulder from Damen, Nik obliged and thus began an actual friendly photoshoot in the middle of a Parisian street just after breakfast. Eventually, after everyone seemed content with at least one photo each, Nik was freed and turned a slightly worried look to Laurent who must have been horribly irritated. But Laurent was on the phone, listening, not talking, and after it became evident he wasn’t going to get off of the phone with whoever he was on the phone with, Damen and Nik wandered up and down the street, taking pictures with beautiful and colorful doors, with script written signs and tiny alleyways, with clothing store fronts and bakery food items.

“What are you doing?” came Laurent’s voice out of the blue. Now he looked impatient. His right foot was angled out in front of him, the heel firmly planted on the ground almost as though he would begin tapping his toe against it at any moment.

“Waiting for you,” Damen said. Nik burned a hole into the side of Damen’s head with his stare. If Damen noticed it though, or cared, there was no sign. He looked at Laurent, meeting Laurent’s gaze without any kind of challenge. Laurent didn’t react. After a moment he said, “Let’s go,” and began walking as though all of this had been his plan the entire time.

Damen and Nik followed, or tried to anyway. It seemed as though Laurent was determined to have them tour the entire city on foot in a handful of hours with the pace he was walking. It was exhausting, Damen thought, as he tried to look up and around at the blur of buildings.

Damen spent a lot of time looking up. Whenever they travelled, which was always, he walked with his head and eyes up, taking in the way the sky set against unique skylines, taking in the way locals casually went around to their familiar spots, taking in the way that atmosphere felt around them. Right now, all of that was impossible with the worry he had of listing Laurent in the crowd or tripping over unknown grounds.

It was Nik, unsurprisingly, who finally forced them to come to a halt. There was something on a wall that caught his attention, and it was as though his camera gravitated to it without his own action.

It was impossible to miss, truly. It was exceedingly large, especially for its placement not but three-quarters of the way up on a wall, and it protruded from the wall at least a meter, casting large shadows all around. Its gold and black coloring shined on the plain beige of the wall it was on, but most striking were the gold figures. A man with a sword, a dragon, a crab, and a rooster, all made of hammered gold, stood under the watch of a round and golden clock. The hands of the clock were still, stuck, and people rushed by it without a glance.

“What is this?” Nik asked, already taking pictures.

“The Defender of Time,” Laurent said. He was staring up at it with something almost sad in his eyes. “It’s a clock. It hasn’t worked in years.”

Nik was moving so he was facing away from the sun, allowing his camera to pick up on the glint of the gold, on the shadows on the ground. “Why hasn’t it worked in years?” Damen asked.

“The funding for it ran dry. It’s expensive to keep a mechanical clock of this magnitude working.” He paused, his eyes scanning over the craggy landscape, over the gaunt face of the man with the sword. “It hasn’t worked since 2003. I never got to see it running, but my brother had apparently loved it.”

“What did it do exactly?”

“On the hour, the man would fight one of the three animals. Each animal is representative of something, those somethings being the ground, the sky, and the sea. It would depend on which animal the man was fighting, but each fight was accompanied by sounds, like the earth moving, the wind howling, or the waves crashing. But then three times a day the man would have to fight all three creatures at the same time.”

“You said it was a funding issue that turned it into this?” Nik asked. He was scrolling through the photos on his camera already. Laurent nodded. “Why not just fund it yourself then? You seem to enjoy it.”

“I’ve never seen it, how on earth could I enjoy it enough to spend money on it?” Laurent asked back. Then he was walking again, not sparing a glance for the Defender of Time.

Nik kept lagging behind, eyes catching on statues, on buildings, on people, and on light, and Laurent looked as though he wanted to be anywhere but here. Damen, picking up on that, did what he did best: talked.

He watched Nik change his angle around an extravagant statue of a man on a horse before asking Laurent, “How exactly did you get into modeling?”

“I was thrown into it,” Laurent said.

“Thrown into it? I thought you wanted to do it,” Damen said, recalling a conversation with Laurent’s uncle from days earlier.

“I did ask to do it, yes. But I never intended on it being my life.”

“But –”

“The wants of a thirteen-year-old are far different than the needs of one. I was too young to know what I needed.”

Damen knew there was a furrow between his brows, knew that whatever was about to come out of his mouth was going to probably piss Laurent off, and yet he asked, “Then why do you do it?”

Laurent finally looked at him, eyes scanning the expression on Damen’s face as though looking for something. “It’s what I know.”

He said it so simply, as though it made perfect sense, as though there was no other option at all and Damen was stupid for even asking such a question.

Damen was struggling with what to say, or ask, next. There were so many things running through his head, namely things that seemed to contradict one another, and he didn’t know where to start. Luckily, or unluckily, for him, Laurent had the next question already sorted out.

“You don’t know about my family, do you?”

For once there was no maliciousness or superiority in the tone of his voice. He sounded curious, his eyes trained on Damen’s face as though still looking for something, though Damen had no idea what.

Damen didn’t want Laurent knowing about his midnight-Googling, of the way his brain couldn’t put together that Laurent was the son of the slumped over bodies of Aleron and Hennike Devere.

“No.”

The word sounded strange coming out of his mouth. Laurent huffed, the sound almost a laugh. “Well you’re not from France so I suppose you wouldn’t.”

Content to keep adventuring, Nik joined them and broke the heavy tension. They began walking again, this time at a more leisurely pace, but eventually the need for food after a coffee-only breakfast made Damen’s stomach rumble in the middle of an alleyway where the sound almost reverberated off of the walls.

“We’ll want to get him food,” Nik said, still shuffling through photos. “He’s insufferable when he’s hungry.”

Damen didn’t argue. “Any recommendations?” he asked Laurent instead.

“Café de Flore is just around the corner.”

To say Café de Flore was busy would be an understatement. Damen was about to suggest something more casual so they wouldn’t have to spend most of their time awaiting their seats, but Laurent was known by the hosts who saw him and said something in French too quiet for Damen to hear. Before he knew it, they were being shown their table.

Nik asked for Damen to get him water before following signs to the restroom in the back. He took his camera and Damen rolled his eyes; it might be a few minutes before Nik was finished photographing every window and light fixture in the cafe.

“Do you come to this café often?” Damen asked Laurent who hadn’t even picked up his menu yet.

“I haven’t in a few months, but, yes, usually I’m here at least once a month or so.” His eyes were trained on the tablecloth, almost as if he was remembering something, before he said, “This was my mother’s favorite cafe in Paris. She said she used to come here almost every day when she first moved to the city.”

“Where was she from?

Laurent actually smiled, though Damen couldn’t for the life of him figure out what he was smiling at. “She was from Sweden.”

“My entire family is from Greece. Mostly from the same city and everything. It must have been nice having two different cultures to grow up within.”

Laurent hummed. “I suppose. Being in Paris, having a French father, and having him immersed in French politics made it oftentimes feel like a singular, all-consuming culture. But my mother did her best to take away some of the seriousness at times.”

“I wish I would have had something like that growing up,” Damen said, but he didn’t sound bitter.

“Was your mother as serious as my father?” Laurent asked. The corner of Damen’s mouth quirked.

“My mother died giving birth to me, so I never met her,” Damen said. There wasn’t any sadness there, feeling and being as removed from it as he was, but it changed the atmosphere in the room. “And my dad was quite serious. But,” he started, trying to change the atmosphere back to what it had been, “my brother’s mother was always kind to me and I feel lucky enough to have had her.”

“How old were you when your father remarried?” Laurent asked.

“Very young. Maybe two? But my brother, Kastor, was already around, had been since before I was born. And his mother had always been in the picture as well. So nothing really changed when my father remarried.”

This time, it was Laurent who had a furrow between his brows. He was just about to say something, ask something for clarification, when Nik came back to the table, just catching the tail-end of the conversation.

“Are you talking about Kastor?” Nik asked with blatant dislike in his voice.

“Yes, Nik,” Damen said with a sigh.

“Damen’s family has more drama than any show you’ll watch on television,” Nik said as he slid into the seat next to Damen. “His dad got Kastor’s mother pregnant back in 1984. Mind you, he got her pregnant while married to Damen’s mother, Egeria. Egeria stayed. Theomedes, Damen’s dad, was part of Kastor’s life and, in turn, Kastor’s mother’s life during all of that. A decade later, Egeria became pregnant and died. Then Theomedes deemed it okay to marry Kastor’s mother.” Nik stopped to take a sip of the water the waiter had left on their table silently. “You would think with Kastor being a whole ten years older he would be more mature than he is, but –”

“Nik, I don’t think Laurent needs or wants to hear about my family drama,” Damen said, doing his very best to change the topic. But Laurent was resting with his chin on his hand, face void of any judgement or emotion.

“Oh no, do tell. I feel as though there’s a story there and it’s only fair. I have been showing you around my city, it’s the least you could do.”

Damen wanted to argue, wanted to say that Laurent wasn’t showing them around out of the goodness of his heart, but instead he found himself saying, “Nik has always hated my brother so you’ll have to take that into consideration.”

“Damen,” Nik started with a sigh. “You –”

“Here, how about I tell it instead,” Damen interrupted. “My brother slept with my girlfriend while knowing of my plans to propose to her. She initiated it, but that doesn’t make it…” He trailed off at the end.

Both of Laurent’s eyebrows were raised, not in disbelief but moreso in fascination, when Nik said, “And sleeping with Damen’s girlfriend was just the final straw of things Kastor has said and done over the years.”

“But it doesn’t matter,” Damen started off just a degree louder so as to speak over Nik, “because I forgave them both, I moved on, and now they’re getting married. Clearly it was the right move on their part.”

“We are not doing this again, Damen,” Nik said.

“I may have to flag the waiter over for a drink,” Laurent said. “Do continue.”

Nik, predominantly, did continue until their food came. He rambled about Kastor’s jealousy, about Theomedes’ unwillingness to come across as having favorites, about Damen’s horrid inability to not immediately trust those he was expected to trust. Damen waved it all off with a dismissive hand, having a reason for everything, and Laurent listened silently but with rapt attention. Damen swore he saw something new in Laurent’s eyes, a kind of understanding of something Damen didn’t know.

Eventually they were off and walking, but not before a very heartfelt goodbye from the host to Laurent. There was something different in the way Laurent was acting now though. He was talking more, pointing out more landmarks and telling their histories with a less guarded facade up and surrounding him. He still wasn’t talking a lot, by no means a chatterbox, but it was as though the things that were necessary, like explaining the meaning behind a building’s title or the reason a gargoyle on top of one of the buildings was missing a bat-like wing came out of his mouth without thought.

He once even laughed – not a long and loud laugh mind you, but a small and quiet yet genuine laugh – as they walked by Jules Lavirotte’s 29 Avenue Rapp and Damen said, “That reminds me of Etoile.”

“I’m not sure if that’s intended to be a compliment or not,” Laurent had said, more amused by that than Damen knew to make sense of.

Eventually, Nik’s instincts had him minding traffic as he crossed the street to ask a woman if he could take her picture. It made perfect sense; she was an older woman, probably in her sixties, maybe even seventies, and she was dressed like the model she most definitely was at one point. The black jumpsuit she was wearing was accentuated by the leopard print scarf that was tossed carelessly over one shoulder. Her red lipstick left a perfect ring on the cup she was drinking out of. She, unsurprisingly, relished in a photography session. It was obvious how stunning the photos would look, her backdropped against the cafe with its swirls in its name and its red curtains in the window.

Laurent seemed to be looking at nothing in particular whilst Nik when about doing his thing. Still standing in front of Damen from the position he had been leading them on their tour, Damen could take in the way the wind played with the end of the braid down his back.

“Can you explain this photographer thing to me?”

The question had left Damen’s mouth suddenly, but he knew why he had asked it immediately. It had been something that had been nagging him since this whole thing started, a thing Vannes had mentioned condescendingly almost (“...one of our photographer experimentees,” she had said with a laugh), a thing that, the longer Damen dwelled on it, seemed odd.

“What do you mean?” Laurent asked, not turning all the way around to face Damen, but turning enough so he could see Nik in his line of sight.

“The whole,” Damen paused to find the words, “competition of it. It’s not normal, is it? This isn’t a thing commonly done, having photographers send in applications and having them participate in a week of photoshoots and events in order to decide who should be at the show?” Damen waited for an answer, but when it never came, he kept talking, asked, “Is it a thing your uncle came up with to give unknown photographers a chance? He was a photographer when he first started, right?”

Laurent still didn’t answer right away, but now Damen had nothing else to say or ask. He continued to wait, trying to figure out why it was taking Laurent so long to answer, and when he couldn’t read Laurent’s face, he turned to watch Nik again. The woman was directing Nik around now and Nik did what she said without complaint.

“Etoile used to have its own photographers. Many of them were older, friends of my uncle’s from his photography days. Some of them are still around. But four years ago one of the photographers made an accusation toward my uncle. As you might expect, my uncle was quite displeased. From then on out he decided that finding new people who wouldn’t get the chance to become familiar with Etoile’s ins and outs.”

The explanation came as the last thing Damen expected to hear. He had perhaps expected a heartwarming tale of using one’s position to provide opportunity. He had expected a story of desire to find the best the world had to offer before anyone else. He had even expected a story of corporate desire to save money by hiring more unknowns. And all Damen could think as his brain tried to comprehend what Laurent had just said was what he had heard that first day of the photoshoots:

“Jeurre over there has worked with him before. Jeurre says that at a photoshoot two years ago, Laurent made one of the newer designers cry so hard that he quit on the spot. I’ve heard one of the current designers talking about how Laurent refused to let one of the newest models, one of the newest signees, be part of this show at all and put down his foot until his uncle gave him his way. I also heard another one of the models say that Laurent gets to lead all the shoots because of his name.”

“He’s a spoiled and entitled brat,” Vannes said matter of fact. “Over the years, he’s gotten mouthier, refused to listen to his uncle or the Etoile board on what he needs to do to represent us. He won’t re-sign because he doesn’t want to be told what to do.”

“Oh, yes, appearance-wise he is. But, as I said, the world of fashion is cruel and it made him cruel. I’m sure you witnessed some of his callous behavior.” Neither Damen or Nik confirmed, but they didn’t deny it either. Laurent’s uncle flashed them a sad smile. “It pains me that I couldn’t protect his innocence. I had thought I was doing the right thing in allowing him to choose his path in life but…” he trailed.

“What were the accusations?” Damen asked.

Now, Laurent turned to look directly at Damen and Damen felt horribly assessed as though he had done something wrong.

“Is there anywhere else you two would like to go before I leave you two to your own devices? I’m afraid I have dinner plans I’d like to not be late for.”

Damen looked at his phone. It was just after two in the afternoon.

Nik was joining them again, ruining the chance for Damen to figure out how to push for Laurent’s answer, and somehow took over the conversation. They ended up walking alongside the Seine once more, Nik stopping every now and then to take photos of peoples’ reflections on the water, all while Laurent led them to wherever Nik had negotiated as a final sight.

Eventually they came across a park with closely cropped grass and artfully trimmed bushes. It was the Parc André Citroën. It was fairly busy with people lying out on the grass, with people and their children admiring the water features. But what was most eye-catching was the enormous and unmissable balloon that read Balloon Generali in beautiful red writing.

Laurent was walking toward it, allowing his words to trail behind him with the wind. “This is the Balloon Generali, a hot air balloon that will get you to the second highest point in Paris.”

Damen could tell Nik was excited. Things like this were familiar territory for them, views and cityscapes. Sometimes they got there by climbing mountains and sometimes they got there by ski slope, but it was what they did, what they always wanted to do. Even Damen was dragged into the excitement, momentarily forgetting the uncomfortableness he had felt in that last conversation with Laurent.

They didn’t have to wait long to get on the balloon. Each ride was only ten minutes long and the ride before them had been up for at least half of that when they arrived.

The place to stand in the balloon was essentially like a donut. There was a hole in the center where people couldn’t go as the cable controlled by the hydroelectric winch was there to raise and lower the balloon. Damen and Nik filed in behind Laurent. There wasn’t a lot of room to move forward or back, but there were only a few other people on with them so there was plenty of space to go around.

They weren’t given much warning before the cable began to turn and Damen felt the ground fall out beneath them.

Nik was shoving Damen with friendly and familiar hands to stand where he could get pictures of him. Damen laughed, relishing in the feeling of the wind picking up around them, and ignored Nik in favor of staring out at the sights coming into view. They could see everything and could see more the higher they got. Right near them was the Seine which got longer and longer the higher up they got. Turning, Damen could see the maze of rooftops come into view around them, could see the Eiffel Tower across the way, a beacon for Paris, could see people walking streets and sitting on benches.

The camera was clicking in Damen’s ears as he turned and looked at Laurent. There was a strand of blond hair out of his braid and he was looking out at the city with a kind of contemplation. Damen wondered what it was like to live here, to have been here as long as one could remember, and Damen wondered what Laurent was thinking.

Nik found something else to garner his own attention which was a group of people on a rooftop across the river. He quickly changed a few settings before finding them. Damen knew the photos would be clear they’d be able to see the color of the men’s ties.

Too soon they were landing, the ground finding its stability under their feet once more, and they exited with windswept hair and Nik’s camera still clicking.

“I found something just over there,” Nik said, pointing in a vague direction. “I’ll be right back.”

He was off without waiting for Damen, or even Laurent’s, reply. And as he walked away Laurent shook his head physically. Damen didn’t like it.

“What?”

Laurent turned his cool gaze on Damen.

“Is this truly all you do? Take a million photos in a city and leave just to do the same thing in another?”

The huff left Damen’s mouth, but he heard Nik in his head saying, “He’s a spoiled, entitled, and, again, raging bitch. If he doesn’t like someone, he can and will make their life a living hell. And in this case, that means that if he doesn’t like me, it’s me whose life will be made a living hell.”

“We do actually work,” Damen said. “There’s a lot of planning, a lot of days we stay up until dawn making sure things are the way they need to be.”

“But you simply travel. Anyone with a camera phone and some money could do what you do,” Laurent pushed.

“Then why don’t they?” When Laurent’s gaze didn’t budge, Damen continued. “It wasn’t always like this either. We worked hard for our first year of travelling. And our hard work was enough to get us tickets to places, but not enough to get us in nice hotels or houses. We stayed in hostels, we ate cheap street food to save money, but we were happy getting to do this. Then it gained traction and we realized we would be stupid to not take an opportunity when it was presented to us.” There was a boiling feeling underneath Damen’s skin, one that had been there since the day he had taken in the extravagance of Etoile, since the day he had realized his joke about Nik having to deal with stuck-up high-fashion snobs was a reality and not just a joke.

“Besides,” Damen said, “I don’t have to explain my life to you, and I definitely don’t have to justify it. How is what we do any different than what you do? You stand there and look beautiful. Other people choose your clothes, other people do your hair, your makeup. Hell, you didn’t even have to work for where you are because your uncle owns the place and gifted you with an opportunity some people work years for and never get to have.”

Nik was calling out Damen’s name from somewhere behind, but Damen couldn’t not watch the way Laurent’s face transformed. It was the small things that changed; the subtle raising of plucked brows, the clenching of his jaw, the squaring of his shoulders.

“There’s a restaurant called La Grenouille Bleue around the corner,” he said, voice hard, just as Nik joined.

Without so much as a goodbye or even a snide comment, Laurent turned and left, his head high and his hair moving with each step.

“What was that?” Nik asked.

It took Damen a second to tear his look away from where Laurent had been, where he had just disappeared around a corner with a flash of gold. When he did, he found Nik’s look a mixture of genuine curiosity and What the fuck did you do now, Damen?

“High maintenance models,” Damen said, hoping that would be enough. It wasn’t.

“What did he say?”

That night, Nik fell asleep fairly early. As he had yawned for the seventh time in but a few minutes, he blamed it on Laurent’s early wakeup call and the fact that they probably walked twenty miles. Damen envied him now, watching for a moment as Nik shifted onto his left side. Tomorrow was the luncheon event and it was going to be a long day, but Damen couldn’t get his brain to stop thinking of Laurent. Infuriating and cold and everything his uncle had said.

Unbiddenly, his fingers were typing Laurent DeVere into the search bar on his computer again, almost as if trying to justify his current feelings. The images were all modeling photos, most of them runway shows, and Damen couldn’t help but curse that someone with Laurent’s disposition was so unbelievably beautiful.

The images went on and on, all professionally taken with but a few paparazzi photos outside of the now-known apartment building, and soon Damen found himself adding something to the search bar. He didn’t really know why. Laurent DeVere young.

The photos here were entirely different than the ones he had just seen. In the first picture was a beautiful blonde woman with perfectly styled hair and a small smile on her face. She was holding a bundle in her arms, a bundle wrapped in blue, and when Damen clicked on the image the caption said Hennike DeVere with her newborn son (2000). There was another picture, the one right next to the one of Hennike, of a child that was unmistakably Laurent at the age of seven or so with an older boy ruffling his hair. The older boy was nearly a man actually, probably nearing the age of twenty in the photo and he was looking at Laurent with unbridled affection. Auguste and Laurent DeVere at the UN Council Meeting (2008). There were more photos like those, ones of Laurent hiding from the cameras behind his brother’s broadening shoulders, ones of Laurent holding hands with his mother, and just a handful of ones of Laurent watching his father.

Not long down the list, however, there was a change. Damen saw Laurent’s uncle sitting in a velvet-lined chair, a tiny body in his lap leaving his dress shirt tearstained. Funeral of Auguste DeVere (2013) is what the caption said. There were a series of funeral photos next to that, ones with captions reading for Auguste DeVere (2013) and Aleron and Hennike DeVere (2013).

There was yet another shift, the only photos of it on the first page of results just at the bottom. Damen was sure they continued and were probably the entire content of page two. They must have been some of Laurent’s earliest modeling photos for he looked exceedingly young. His blue eyes were startling and large, trained on the person behind the camera as he clutched the sheer red fabric over his bare chest. Behind him were roses dripping with water and the water must have been on Laurent as well for the ends of his hair were curled and a shade darker than the rest of him. It was clinging to his eyelashes the same way it clung to the petals of the roses.

Laurent DeVere’s first magazine cover, February 2014.

[copias-thrall]

Nothing nsfw, but how would Papa III be with a shy&adorable (but becomes more open and goofy after knowing someone better) type of female s/o? I know papa wouldn’t mind someone outgoing, but I’ve always felt that he would have a soft spot for the shy introverts and actually be drawn to them as well.

Hullo, sweet anon! You want fluff, you got it ( -_·)σσ

He would absolutely turn into that dumbass boy on the playground hanging upside down by his legs from the monkey bars to get his crush to notice him. And of course said crush WOULDN’T EVEN BE LOOKING AT HIM.

He’d noticed you around the Abbey—he knows all the attractive Siblings, but what made him really see you was watching you carry on with your friends. You were so reserved and stoic during mass, keeping your head down as you walked down the hallways—but put you in a group of your crew and suddenly you’d have this … spark.

At first it wasn’t even an effort to get into your habit—he’d just wanted to be the one to crack that layer of frost you radiate. He went about it all wrong, of course—he’s used to seducing Siblings who want to play and those who realize what he’s doing. You were just confused when he shored up with you as you had walked down another long hall in the Abbey. He’d waited for you to say something, but you’d just kept waiting for him to pass you.

“Come here often?” he’d tried finally.

Your head had snapped to him before you’d quickly lowered your eyes from his mismatched gaze.

“Um, me?” you’d squeaked.

The hall was practically empty.

“No, the Unholy Ghost.”

You’d wondered if you were that invisible that he’d never noticed you before.

“I mean, I live here? Your Unholiness,” you added.

His ghast had been so flabbered that he’d actually walked into a pillar. You’d felt such fremdschämen that you’d hurried on, hoping any ire he felt wouldn’t be transferred onto you.

Two days later he’d come out of nowhere to sit next to you in the quad—straddling the stone bench—making the Siblings around you immediately going quiet.

“Did it hurt when you fell?” he’d quipped.

You’d squinted at him, flustered and confused. “But … you’re the one that walked into that pillar?” 

You hadn’t even meant to be funny, but your friends had covered their mouths to stifle their laughter as Papa III gaped at you.

“I … um … I,” he’d stammered, his hand going to the unsubtle egg on his head. “Rude.”

You face had flushed, and you’d managed to squeak out an apology before making a hasty exit. Thoroughly embarrassed, you’d skipped mass the next day, only to be informed that he’d asked after you.

“I think he likes you,” one friend had said.

“Likes me? He only just noticed me 2 days ago.”

“—sitting in a tree,” another had singsonged. “F-U-C-K-I-N-G!”

“Shut your face!” you’d shrieked, shoving them in the face to shut them up.

None of you noticed Papa III out of his vestments looking on plaintively.

A few days later, the group of you had been joking around in the mess hall as you ate your lunches when all of a sudden the lights dimmed. Papa III was suddenly illuminated in the corner by a Ghoul with a flashlight. Another Ghoul had pressed play on a boombox he then held up. The opening riffs of “Cirice” had echoed in the mess hall.

The Siblings in the cafeteria had broken into an excited titter.

On cue, Papa III had held up an echo mic and had begun to sing in it.

He had strutted up and down the aisles, occasionally letting his unoccupied hand trail through a row of Siblings’ outstretched hands. When the chorus broke, he had jumped up on a table and pointed around the hall, as everyone had screamed wildly.

He’d jumped down to continue prowling around as he crooned into the toy. Once he’d started stalking the aisle as he crooned Can’t you see that you’re lost without me, the whole crowd thrummed with the anticipation on who’d be the recipient of Papa’s singular attention.

When he’d bent on a knee and thrust his hand in your direction, you’d done the only sensible thing and pushed your friend forward—this moment was all she ever goddamned talked about, and there was no way you wanted to be the focus of the entire congregation. There’d been a flicker of exasperation on his face, but quickly enough he was putting his heart into Ciricing the shit out of your friend.

After that, Papa had sauntered away to misuse another table top, and your friend had leaned over and said, “That was amazing, but you’re the dumbest bitch I’ve ever met.” (You found out much later that after that performance Papa III had been in such a sulk that one of his Ghouls had bitched at him to just be direct with you.) 

For days after that, he’d seemed to be glaring at you every time you caught his eyes. It had put you on edge enough that when he’d showed up at your room, you were sure you were about to be upbraided—perhaps even … kicked out of the Church? But he’d just sighed and smoothed his hair out of he face, his posture stiff.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?”

“Dinner?” you’d echoed.

“Yes, dinner. It’s a meal. You eat during it,” he mimed forking food into his mouth, “and sometimes there’s even conversation.” He opened and closed his hand a few times.

“Now?”

He’d blinked at you.

“It’s 2 o’clock.”

“I dunno. Don’t older people call ‘lunch’ ‘dinner’?”

His eyes had widened, and he’d mimed getting shot in the heart before stumbling backward

“Old people,” he’d sputtered. “Which old people?!”

“My grandma, I guess.”

“And how old is dear grandmama?!”

“Oh, um. Pushing 90?”

“Pushing 90—” He’d leaned forward, hands on hips. “You think Papa is pushing 90, do you?” 

“I, uh—”

“I am very youthful. Vibrant, even.”

“Er …”

He’d straightened his posture, lifting his chin.

“Dinner is at 6 sharp.”

He’d then turned on his heel and marched away.

You’d had the freakouts to end all freakouts then, and your roommate had come home to find you tearing through your closet.

“What’s your major malefaction?!”

“Papa invited me to dinner and ALL THESE HABITS ARE A LITTLE DIFFERENT!”

She’d shaken you by the shoulders. “ALL YOUR HABITS ARE EXACTLY THE SAME, AND WHY WOULD YOU WEAR A HABIT?!” Then she’d picked up your one formal dress from the pile and held it out. “For Lucifer’s sake, wear this!”

“It’s not a date!”

“OF COURSE IT’S A DATE, YOU COW—OMG.”

A Ghoul had shown up at 5 til to escort you. He’d given you a blatant once over, smirking, and you’d flushed. Your roommate had given you a shove and closed the door behind you. You’d been expecting to be led to Papa III’s private quarters, but instead the Ghoul took you to one of the balconies on the second floor.

There had been a table for two set up—one long candle on the table, and a myriad tealights across the balcony railing. Papa had been staring off into the quad, hands locked behind his back above his coattails.

“Your Unholiness,” hissed the Ghoul, and Papa III had turned. “Have fun with your … meal.” He’d given you another lascivious glance.

Papa III had hissed back and shooed him away. “Away with you foul beast.”

The Ghoul had only cackled as he’d slunk away. 

Papa hurried to pull out your chair. “Don’t mind him, he’s still feral—makes him excellent on guitar.”

Once the two of you were seated and Papa had removed the dish covers to reveal a dinner of PB&J’s with the grucifix stamped into them (“I made them myself”) you’d asked him why he’d invited you to dinner.

He’d taken your hand. “I like the cut of your jib.

“Uh …”

“I’d like to know you better. We talk and accomplish this, yes?”

The two of you had ended up talking all night, way after the tealights had burned out. Turned out, once Papa III got you away from big crowds, you were more open to participating in conversation. He’d used his charm and charisma to keep the conversation going—asking you questions about yourself when you’d flounder and cracking jokes to set your nerves at ease.

He’d walked you back to your room that early morning night, merely kissing your hand before taking his leave. But after that the two of you had many more nights of pleasant conversation, and soon enough you’d felt comfortable enough to joke with and tease him like you did your friends.

The real test came when Papa had joined you in the mess hall and he’d made a crack about you being Fort Knox. You’d responded by scooping the frosting off your cupcake and smashing it on his face. It had seemed like the whole hall had held its breath waiting for a Ghoul to drag you off—but he’d just burst out laughing, wiping the frosting off his face and trying to smear on your arm. He’d gotten it in your friend’s hair instead, which is when he’d said Oops and jumped up on the table yelling, “FOOD FIGHT!”

When Sister Imperator burst in demanding to know What the hell, Papa III had pointed at a Ghoul as all the Ghouls pointed at him.

“Seester! What’s that over there?” He’d pointed over her shoulder. She didn’t even flinch to look, but he’d just grabbed your hand and said, “Let’s make a break for it while she’s distracted.”

The two of you had run laughing out of the mess, through the echoing halls, and into a deep alcove. It was there—as he had threaded his fingers through your hair to get the peas out of it and you’d tried to clean the rest of the frosting off his nose—that the two of you had kissed for the first time.

He’s been quite enamored with you since. He’s learned his lesson about making you the focus in a crowd, but in private or amongst your friends, he feels free to turn his full wattage on you. He’s recognized your boundaries and your limits, fully understanding that just because you’ll make goofy monster voices with him in private doesn’t mean you’re comfortable doing so with the eyes of the congregation on you. (Well he doesn’t quite understand why you wouldn’t want to be everyone’s focus, but he respects that you feel that way.)

It’s been a real learning experience for him, but he’s found that he quite likes it—he never has to fight you to be the centre of attention in a battle of personalities and he gets a piece of you very few people get to see (it makes him feel special to have your trust like that).

Unfortunately, as one of his paramours, your days of being an anonymous Sibling are over, but Papa III tries his best to keep you under the radar. It totally goes against his instinct to flaunt you off for everyone to see, but—then again—it creates even more mystery, doesn’t it? (And he’s never been one to shy away from being dramatic.)

[imaginefan]

Labour Scare

Dean Winchester X Reader

Word Count: 661

Requested: @mrswinchester29​

Request: Yes I did please can I have one where I’m deans wife my names Beth if you want to use that or y/n and I’m pregnant and go into labour while cas,Sam and dean all panic but jack is the only one who is helping me and then they all snap out of it and then a happy ending with the daughter being called alessia Winchester thanks xx

A/N: I’m really sorry this request got lost and I’ve managed to find it so I write it straight away again I’m really sorry and this is probably not worth the wait but it’s here 

You watched them leave for a hunt that morning and you thought that was going to be the extent of your problems but you were very wrong the moment that you all sat down for dinner was the moment that your waters broke and it was chaos from thereon.

Jack helped you into the living room where you could be a little more comfortable, he helped you lay back on the chair but when you looked back at the three men that were supposed to know what the hell they were doing it was a mess "Sam what do we need?" Dean asked panic clear on his face, Sam looked at him and frowned.

"Why would I know that you're the father." He argued which actually caused you to laugh a little before a contraction ripped through you and you took a breath to try and work through the pain.

"Your the smart one figure it out!" Dean glared but poor Cas was next on the list. "Cas you're an angel you fix it." 

"Me being an angel has no bearing my knowledge of childbirth." He explained and now with the next contraction taking hold you decided that it was time to get them all to focus.

"Boys! As funny as the first five minutes of this was, I need you all to pull it together and decide what the hell is happening because this baby is coming, call someone or take me somewhere that can deal with this okay!?" You asked. Dean was the only one that gave any type of confirmation that he had heard you at all.

Hours later and you found yourself holding your little girl looking down at her, you couldn't explain it but the moment that she was put in your arms you never wanted to put her down, it became painfully obvious how dangerous your life was and how much it was going to take to keep your little girl safe. "Hey, are you okay?" Dean asked noticing the tears slipping down your cheek.

"I don't ever want her to get hurt." You said and he nodded.

"We'll keep her safe no matter what." He promised, the door opened and you looked over to see the nurse walk in.

"I just wanted to make sure that you're all okay." She smiled and you nodded.

"We're okay." You said softly.

"Do you have a name?" She asked.

"Alessia." You said softly Dean pressed a kiss to the side of your head and nodded.

"Our little princess." He said softly as the nurse allowed the others in to see you.

You watched as you little girl ran around the garden, you smiled as a pair of arms wrapped around your waist you leaned back into the body behind you "Hello beautiful." Dean said softly.

"Hey, how was the hunt?" You asked.

"Standard." He answered you nodded.

"Dad!" You both looked over and saw the little girl waddle over her hands out to him and he unwrapped himself from you to pick her up.

"Hello, Princess what are you doing?" He asked.

"I'm playing, we were waiting for you to come back." She said and he raised an eyebrow.

"Really why is that?" He asked looking over at you for an explanation.

"Because we can't have family dinner without Daddy." You answered "her words." 

"And Uncle Sammy!" She cheered.

"Well Uncle Sammy is inside, you want to go see him?" He asked.

"Yeah!" She nodded so Dean put her back down and allowed her to run into the house.

"Do you remember when you thought that you were going to be no good at this?" You asked and he nodded.

"I don't remember when I started being good at this." He shrugged linking your hands as you walked towards the back door.

"The day she was born... After you little freak out." You teased.

"There was no freakout." He denied and you smirked.

"Oh really?" You asked.

Requests and general question!

[aelaer]

Whumptober 15: Scars

Don’t ask me where this came from; I wanted to write something short. This is the opposite of short.

Characters: Stephen Strange, Beverly Strange, Eugene Strange, Donna Strange Warnings: Just a bucket-load of angst. Canonical death by drowning, as well.

15. Scars 

Stephen got his first scar right on his inner wrist from before his memory got particularly good, because from what he knew, he always had it. Mom claimed that it was all Aunt Nancy's fault that he fell down in the first place, but Aunt Nancy was a rather tall and somewhat scary woman, so he never pursued it when he wondered about it and forgot the story when she was less scary and more annoying.

At age twelve, the scars were the remnants of hard play found on a farm in northern Nebraska. He was particularly impressed with the one on his knee that he got from a tree at school that he successfully climbed up but not so successfully climbed down. It was bleeding everywhere and it hurt so badly but at the same time it was really cool and he couldn't stop watching the doctors as they stitched him back up. He taught himself how to stitch after that, stealing Mom's supplies and trying to copy the stitches on his jeans and shirts, then Donna's stuffed animals, and then copying the ones he saw in a book from the library about surgeons and surgery.

Even Dad was impressed when he heard that he wanted to be a doctor, after his initial freakout about him stealing Mom's supplies to learn sewing. "Doctors help a lot of people, and unlike teachers, you can make good money from it." He didn't really consider the money when he started, but that sounded like a pretty nice perk, and he really didn't want to be a teacher anyway. Donna wanted to be the teacher, and told Dad that she didn't care about the stupid money, anyway. He laughed and told her, "Okay," and the conversation ended.

He worked throughout his junior and senior years to get all the money he needed to apply to universities all around the country. His physics teacher was a decent sort and pointed out all the best schools and where he could apply for grants and financial aid. He was on track to be valedictorian of his high school graduating class of a whopping size of 26 people, and that wasn't quite like a graduating class of 100 or 600 but it was still something.

Then he got accepted into Columbia University with a full ride scholarship. He freaked out. His principal freaked out. His physics teacher freaked out. One of them told the rest of the faculty in his school, and they all freaked out.

His parents also freaked out, but not in the same way as his principal and teacher.

"Columbia," Mom said with a light frown. "Isn't that in New York?"

"Yeah," he said.

"That's a bit far, Stephen," Mom said, and something deep within him twinged with hurt.

"Don't be daft, Beverly," Dad replied. "They're offering to pay for everything. He's gonna be gone for med school anyway after."

"There's a medical school at UNO," she replied. "Also ones at USD, DMU, and UMKC. And that hardly matters for undergrad; he can go to a school in Omaha or Lincoln, or maybe somewhere in South Dakota or Iowa."

"Yeah, but they're not paying for it," Dad argued.

Stephen decidedly did not tell them when he got a full ride scholarship to USD two weeks later.

Mom eventually accepted he was going to Columbia whether she liked it or not and didn't bring it up again for a long time.

——— 

At age nineteen, his most prominent scars were internal, written by the complete anguish and fury of his younger sister's death the summer after his first year of college. He should have known something was wrong when she didn't come up from the lake immediately. He should have known and pulled her from its depths faster, performed CPR faster, and Donna would still be alive and entering her senior year of high school and figuring out where she wanted to go to college to become an elementary school teacher.

But Donna was dead. Dead, drowned Donna.

His parents never said they blamed him, but Stephen knew that they did, because he was the one studying to become a doctor and he had failed to see the signs and rescue her fast enough. Of course they blamed him.

Two weeks after they buried Donna, he couldn't stand it anymore and rescheduled his flight back to New York for that weekend. If his parents couldn't take him, he'd call for a shuttle. He didn't want to spend the money he earned tutoring on things like shuttles, but he'd rather do that than spend any more time in that house.

Two days before his flight, his parents called him down to the kitchen. Dad was holding a beer; he spent the last two weeks holding a beer.

"Stephen," Mom started, clinging her hands together. "We'd like to talk with you."

An ominous feeling settled in the depths of his gut. "About?"

"Sit down," Dad said, voice gruff with grief, and he did so.

"It's been—" Mom's voice stopped, and she cleared her throat. "It's been a very, very hard summer, Stephen. The worst four weeks of my life." He nodded in agreement, and waited patiently as Mom got a hold of her emotions again. "It's— it's a reminder to us, how— how life can change in an instant. How little time we actually have. And, and Stevie—" He froze at the nickname; she rarely used it, per his request some several years ago, and when it slipped out he often did not like what she had to say next. "We see you so rarely. You're so far."

Stephen cleared his throat. "I visit during Christmas. I made Easter, too."

Mom shook her head. "That's not enough, not when it can—" She swallowed and heaved a shuddering breath.

"What your mother is trying to say," said Dad, "is that we want you to transfer to somewhere closer. Omaha, Lincoln, South Dakota, maybe even Des Moines or Kansas City, though the first three are preferable."

He stared at them. "You want me to transfer and pay thousands of dollars to go to a worse school?" 

"They're all fine schools," Dad argued. "And— don't worry about costs. We'll handle that."

"With what money?" he asked, incredulous.

"Don't worry about it," he repeated, more strongly this time and in a tone that demanded respect. Stephen considered arguing, anyway, but Dad continued onward before he could. "The money's beside the point, anyway. The school's are a bit far to drive to every day, but you can come home on the weekends."

"You're asking me to throw away the opportunities a place like Columbia University can give me for— for what? To make yourselves feel better?"

"Stephen!" Dad shouted.

Mom put a hand on Dad's arm. "Eugene," she murmured, then looked back at him. "Family is all we have, Stephen."

"Family is all you have," he argued. "I have a future, a career waiting for me beyond all this. And I'm not going to kill my future just because Donna's dead!"

That stunned them into silence. He could tell Dad was furious, too. He continued before he could lose his nerve. "And I've already booked a flight to go back to New York on Saturday. I'm going to the airport whether you drive me or not." He stood up and ignored Dad's angry shout at his back, and he left the house to walk for a while.

Late Friday night, Mom came to his room and asked him quietly, "What time do you need to be at the airport?"

He ignored the pang of guilt in his heart at her voice. "By noon."

"We'll leave at ten," she said, and he nodded and she left without saying good night.

The next morning she drove him to Eppley Airfield in Omaha. The ride was silent and Stephen tried to banish the silence by reading one of his textbooks.

About five minutes away from the airport, Mom asked, "Are you sure about this, Stephen?"

He couldn't look at her. "I'm sure," he muttered at the window.

She told him, "Be safe," and he nodded and the conversation ended.

———— 

The scars on his heart began to harden as they took on layers. More came that Christmas, when, against his better judgement, he agreed to his mother's pleas to visit over the holiday. She asked him to stay the whole winter break, but he lied and said he had an intersession class in January and could only stay a week. He didn't want to have to reschedule for his own sanity; he wasn't sure if he could handle his mother's disappointment if he did.

She was still disappointed, but over Christmas, the disappointment was largely overwhelmed by the grief of the first Christmas without Donna. None of them attempted to really change the atmosphere, beyond his mother's half-hearted results the first two days he was back in Nebraska. But it was too difficult an illusion to continue with his sister's spectre haunting every room, every tradition, and every memory.

His father was drinking a six-pack a day throughout his time there. From what he could see, this was business as usual.

Stephen only approached him on the subject the day after Christmas. "You're going to kill your liver at the rate you're drinking those."

"It's my liver to kill," his father replied.

He fell to silence and left the matter alone after that.

When he got back to New York and the faculty was back at Columbia, he talked with his advisor on taking a full summer course and any intersession courses available to cut his already fast-tracked graduation date of three and a half years down to three.

After he told his mother that he was staying in New York over the summer to graduate even earlier than planned, her weekly calls became bi-monthly, and slowly petered out to once a month by the time he graduated.

Throughout the rest of undergrad, he never went back to Nebraska.

———— 

After graduating, he spent a year working in a laboratory as he applied for as many schools with a combined MD-PhD program as he could afford. By the end of that year, he was back at Columbia within their rigorous program.

He completed it in a new record time. His advisors called him a prodigy. One told him that if his research continued down this new, innovative path, that he may yet change the field of neurosurgery. He didn't outright say Nobel Prize, but he didn't have to.

He entered his residency at the Columbia-affiliated New York-Presbyterian Hospital while still in his mid-twenties, on track to being a full-fledged neurosurgeon in his early thirties.

The monthly calls from his mother were no longer monthly. He didn't remember the last time he talked to his father.

Not too long after he turned thirty, he got a call in between shifts from his parents' landline (as they really didn't do cellphones; the service out on the farm was apparently terrible). He answered, "Hello mother," trying to keep as polite and patient as he was able.

"Not her," came the gravelly voice of his father, and he sounded awful. "But it's about her."

"What?" Stephen straightened in his seat. "What is it?"

His father didn't say anything for a moment, then: "She's got ovarian cancer. Stage four."

Oh God. "Where is she?"

"Overnight in Omaha. I'm driving back down early tomorrow." Another pause. "Your mom wants to see you."

He swallowed. "I'll— I'll see what I can do."

And he did. Residents didn't get that much time off, but Stephen hadn't taken a day off barring a horrible flu two years ago. He was permitted a couple days leave, and at the encouragement of a fellow resident by the name of Christine, asked for a few days around Christmas as well. He was granted them.

It wasn't a very happy Christmas, but his mother seemed genuinely pleased to see him, and he did his best to keep his spirits high around her, even as his father silently drank nearby.

On Christmas Eve, he found her thumbing a card when she thought he was not looking. Stephen later picked it up and found it was a Christmas card made by him when he was seven-years-old, signed by both him and Donna's childish signatures, and addressed to Mom and Dad.

He realized he did not remember when they stopped being Mom and Dad.

———— 

Beverly Strange died in the autumn of the following year. After her funeral, he did not return to Nebraska until his father passed away two years later from liver failure.

The service was small and their assets easily determined his. For some reason, he did not immediately put the farm up for sale the moment it became his.

As his paycheck steadily increased, he paid for the farm's upkeep and for someone to maintain it, but as the idea of selling or even leasing it entered his mind, he pushed it away for another day until the maintenance just became a monthly automatic payment that left his account. It eventually stopped entering his thoughts at all.

The scars on his heart remained. Christine, fellow-resident-now-fellow-doctor, tried to chip away at it, and she was partially successful in a way that few were. But even she could only do so much and her efforts eventually fell to the wayside.

Ten years after his mother's death, the most prominent of his scars to the naked eye were the blatant lines crossing both of his malformed hands.

But they were far from the first.

———— 

Notes:

I was going to write a short thing about his hands. Then this happened instead.

I know a brother, Victor, exists, but I honestly have no idea how to incorporate him into MCU Stephen's life, so he's just… not mentioned. Sorry Victor.

I presumed that, like most schools in California, that the unis in the Midwest are referred to by their acronyms. If I'm incorrect, please let me know!

College acronyms:

UNO = University of Nebraska Omaha

USD = University of South Dakota

DMU = Des Moines University

UMKC = University of Missouri, Kansas City

For those unfamiliar with American slang, a "full ride scholarship" straight out of high school means that the university is paying for your tuition, all educational supplies, and often boarding for all four years. While universities often give grants for parts of education based on both merit and financial need (ranging from a few hundred to tens of thousands of dollars, depending on the university), full rides are much rarer and to the top universities in the country, even moreso. 

To put this in perspective, I have a real life example: one of my friends in high school was valedictorian of a graduating class of 600. Her merit plus her family's very poor financial status got her a full ride to Stanford. The tuition alone to Stanford (a private, world-famous university) is $50,000; with housing and supplies, it's closer to $60,000 a year. She got all of that paid by the university (yeah, these private universities have a stupid amount of money). She worked her ass off for that scholarship, though. I think she also became a medical doctor, funny enough. But anyway, I imagine Stephen getting something similar as, along with the majority of families in the US being completely unable to afford private university's astronomical costs, Nebraska's cost of living is nothing compared to New York's — wasn't in the 90's, and it's probably a larger gap now. So combined merit/financial-based scholarships for such schools are pretty common.

[buckthegrump]

Falling Slowly - 6

Summary: A story of love

Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 1662

Warnings: Angst, people being assholes, and fluff, the start of an asthma attack

A/n: if you want to be tagged please send me an ask, Previous parts on my masterlist.

For the next few weeks you and Wanda had become really close with the boys and they had a fifth roommate you had yet to meet. But you kept going on dates with Brock and they kept giving you shit about it but he was being nice and everything he should be. Every time you would hang out with him that wasn’t technically a date he’d always push to hang out with his friends instead of yours; you were afraid they would run him off anyhow. His friends were mostly his teammates which is what you expected.

“Wanda how much booze do we actually need?” You and she were out shopping getting things for a girls night, which was much needed. “Isn’t it just us tonight, I don’t think that we will need four bottles.”

“No, my friend from my calc class is coming I told you this. She’s so much fun you’ll like her I promise.” She assured you, Wanda was typically right about these things.

“Alright well let's hurry up because we should clean at least the living room before she gets there so we don’t look like complete slobs.”

An hour later you were back at your apartment and cleaning like crazy before Wanda got a text asking to be let up. Wanda went downstairs and brought up a very beautiful redhead.

“Hi I’m Natasha Wanda talks a lot about you.” She reaches out her hand and you take it.

“Y/n. Hopefully, only bad stuff so that way you are pleasantly surprised when I’m not that bad.” She laughed at that which was a good sign. 

“No, she’s said some good stuff too.”

“Oh well, I don’t believe that Wanda knows how to be nice.”

“Y/n, I can be nice, bitch.” Wanda defended herself.

“See?” You said to Natasha mostly ignoring Wanda.

“Whatever let's start the movie.” Wanda stomped over to the couch as you and Natasha laughed.

The night went on and you were liking Natasha more and more and she insisted that you call her Nat. You didn’t really watch the movies you mostly talked and got to know one another, for example, you learned that she was roommates with the boys, which you found odd because you couldn’t imagine Natasha putting up with their bullshit. In the middle of the conversation, someone started calling you.

“Y/n, you know the rules no phones unless it’s your parents or an emergency!” Wanda was slightly drunk by this point so she was yelling. So you ignored it but then it starts ringing again. “Who is it?”

“It’s Brock?” You were confused because Brock has never called you in the middle of the night. “I’m going to answer it, it’s got to be semi-important if he’s called me twice.” You got up and walked into your room. “Hello?”

“Why didn’t you answer your phone?” He demanded.

“It’s girls night and we have a no phone policy, I told you this.”

“Even for the people, you're dating? I was worried.”

“Brock, what’s wrong why are you calling?” You asked trying not to let your annoyance show.

“Wow,” apparently it didn’t work. “I was just calling my girlfriend to see how she was doing.”

He hadn’t ever called you that before so you were unsure of how to respond. Being you, you elected to ignore it and move on.

“That’s sweet and I’m doing great but I’m going to go back to girls night now.”

“Noo Y/n stay on the phone with me.” He whined.

“Brock I’m getting off the phone goodbye I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” You wait a little bit to see if he’ll say goodbye. He didn’t, he just hung up. “Great.”

“Is everything ok?” Nat asked you as you sit back down on the couch.

“Yeah, he just wanted to talk to me.”

“Ugh gross,” Wanda said under her breath.

“He did call me his girlfriend though.” Which earned you a gag from Wanda.

“Has he ever said that before?” Nat asked and you both ignored Wanda.

“No, we haven’t even had that conversation yet. And he just said it out of the blue. I think he might have been drunk.” 

“Well, my mom always said that if a boy has to be drunk to tell you something sweet it doesn’t count until he’s said it sober first,” Wanda said and you agreed. So you decided not to worry about it until he did something about it sober.  

You and the girls enjoyed the rest of the night by getting drunk and trash-talking the shitty movies that came on Netflix.

The next morning you woke up to a really bad hangover and were not looking forward to facing the day. You went to your first class and didn’t get anything done. You and Wanda were trying to keep the other in an upright position. You were pretty sure that the professor knew this but she didn’t seem to care.

The next class you had you had with Brock and he sat next to you but he was in a pissy mood, and you honestly were in no shape to be dealing with it. It was a workday to catch up on any assignments you didn’t have done, and when Brock opened his mouth you regretted not skipping.

“So how was last night?” He was being passive-aggressive.

“It was fun I had a good time with my friends.” Two could play at this game.

“Were Bucky and Sam and all them there?” So that’s what this was really about.

“No, it was just Wanda and our new friend Natasha which is what girls night is about, no boys.” He was silent after that until he invited you to hang out with his friends again tonight and you reluctantly agreed.

You had a four-hour break before your last class because one was canceled so you ran home and took some Advil and a nap. And it did wonders. You walked past Wanda who was getting ready for work as you walked to your next class.

You jammed the up button for the elevator three more times before returning to stare at the door. You liked taking the older elevator no one else seemed to take it and you liked not having to stop at every floor before yours. You finally heard the ding and the doors slid open, you got in and pressed the button and right before they were about to close someone slid through in the nick of time. 

Steve stood next to you and gave you a smile which you returned. You two stood in silence as you rode the elevator to the fourth floor.  Then somewhere around the third floor, the elevator stopped.

“Great this is exactly what I need.” You pressed the button as Steve chuckled at your sarcastic remark. You smiled to yourself realizing you liked the sound of his laugh.

“Maybe it will start up again on its own.” He shrugged and you couldn’t help but think about how sexy his voice was. “But I’ll text Bucky and see if he can get help.”

“You won’t get service.” He checked his phone anyway just in case you were wrong but you weren’t. He sighed heavily and you smirked a little. “Told ya so.”

“Thanks.” Steve slid his phone back into his pocket. You let out a sigh and put your backpack down and sat on the floor. Steve gave you an odd look but ended up joining you. You stared blankly at the doors and he kept looking at you. 

Should I talk to him? Probably who knows how long we’ll be in here and it’s not like we don’t know each other. What would you talk about with Wanda? Probably about things that other people don’t care about. God, I wish I had cell service I would text her and ask for help. Just think Y/n it’s just talking to someone pretend he’s someone else and just talk to him.

“Y/n?” His voice interrupted your internal freakout. “I asked you what your major is?”

“Oh, it’s early childhood studies. I want to be a preschool teacher, which ya know is totally gonna pay off my debt for college. What’s yours?”

“Criminal Justice. But that’s cool, I once thought that I could be a teacher but yeah their pay isn’t the best.” The conversation was a lot easier now that you stopped over-thinking it there were times when you couldn’t think of a question but Steve always had one up his sleeve. It was mostly about school and what you did for work. How had you gone weeks without talking to him?

After a while, you look at your phone. “Holy shit!”

“What?”

“We’ve been in here for an hour. Do you think anyone has noticed that we’re missing?”

“I’m pretty sure Bucky or one of the others will notice I don’t typically just not show up to class.” Steve’s reassurance was working until the lights went out. A stopped elevator wasn’t ideal, you could’ve held out for a while but a dark stopped elevator was a different story. Your breathing became strained, you sat down and tucked your knees under your chin.

“Are you having a panic attack?” You had forgotten that Steve was there with you for a second. And you shook your head, remembering that he couldn’t see you, you reached for your phone to turn on the flashlight but the lack of air you were getting made it more difficult than it should’ve been.

Steve was faster than you and turned his on and you shook your head no again so he could see it this time. It was asthma. You hadn’t had an attack in a long time but you knew it was because you didn’t get panic attacks this badly. 

“An asthma attack?” Nod. 

“Ok do you have your inhaler?” You shook your head no.

[wheremytwinwatches]

[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 21

Last time Papa Elric dropped by, Ed pulled an Igor, and the Elric Brothers set out to punch Truth in the face. Onwards!

At Central, Roy is not happy. Aw, come on dude. Riza thought you were dead, and it did kinda look like you were for a while. Don’t be so harsh on her. Havoc’s not letting Roy get away with that when he “abandoned his post”, Roy’s still in bad enough shape he can’t even yell at his subordinate properly. Riza just ignores Roy whining about wanting a private room with a hot nurse (stay strong, Riza) and argues that it’s easier to protect the wounded man-children in a single room. Which raises a good question: if they’re in such bad shape after Gluttony/Lust, why haven’t the Goths tried to finish the job? In the Underground Gear Room, Envy’s asking the same question to Bradley/Wrath, screaming about they should pay for killing Lust. Wrath just says that they can use Roy, but not if he’s dead. Right, he was a candidate… for “the portal” that Envy just mentioned? Hmmm. In any case, Wrath tells Envy to back off- [Wrath]: “Father wants me to handle him.” *camera pans over Papa Elric* Ok, is this the show “revealing” that Father and Papa Elric are the same person? I mean, beard! So, what’s the Blond Trio up to? [Al]: “What if my body’s started to rot?” Ah, back to the idea that Al’s body is in the Gate. That’s a good question - after all this time, is it being held in stasis or somehow protected from decay? Cue image-spot of Zombie Alphonse. Funny and disturbing. Ed’s back to hypothesising now, thinking that when they both worked on the Human Transmutation their spirits might have gotten “mixed up”. So… Ed’s been handling the biological components for Al’s body as well? Like Winry says, that’s a bit far fetched… but a comparative lack of nutrients would work as an explanation for why Ed’s vertically challenged. And Al does note that Ed sleeps a lot. Then again, he’s a teenage guy. In any case, that explanation will work for now, and give Ed an excuse in his never-ending argument with Winry against drinking milk. Pfft. Episode 21 - “Advance of the Fool” Back at the hospital, Fuery’s showing the Elric Brothers to Roy and Havoc’s room to pay their respects, and Fuery’s dropping off a present. Which turns out to be a map Riza uses to try and find that huge sigil they found in the white room. And whadya know, the Presidential Estate is in the radius! Now they’ve cottoned on to Bradley’s possible connection to the Goths (dudes, you have no idea), and can recognize how “odd” it is that Bradley killed Greed and his minions before they could be questioned. In any case, Command has definitely been infiltrated by the Goths at the very least, so they’ve gotta be careful. Roy… is pleased with this development. Here’s a guy who dreams of being the Fuhrer, and now he can achieve that goal and take down bad guys at the same time! I’m predicting that even if he gets that far, though, he’s gonna run screaming at the amount of paperwork. For now, it’s time for the Mustang Crew to work themselves ragged- [Havoc]: “Uhhhh, yeah, about that, Colonel?... I think you’re gonna haveta’ count me out. Your work requires legs… and I can’t feel mine.” No! Havoc… damn it buddy, you deserved better. Well, at least Roy’s able to walk, he’s taking some time in the waiting room to read (Riza standing vigilant and totally not reading over his shoulder, she swears) when a scruffy guy in a wrinkled suit plops down beside him. Oh hey, it’s the doc that chewed him out for Ross! [Doc]: “I got a sinking feeling when I heard you were the person that scorched that thing. Are you plotting something?” [Roy]: “You suspect a plot but you still ID’ed the “thing” as Maria Ross. Three cheers for old war buddies, huh?”

THANK you. Geez, I kept going on and on about the dental records and how Doc fit into all this, easy enough to ID someone when you’ve got the coroner in on the scheme. Not a happy accomplice though, he warns Roy that if he keeps pushing this someone’s gonna get hurt. Thanks for the warning, buddy. Bit late, though. Havoc’s having a smoke and talking about how his family owns a grocery store. At least he can take calls. Wait, hold on, Automail is totally a thing in this setting. Why not cyborg-Havoc? Ah. Automail still needs living nerves. Breda… is not very supportive? What the Leto, dude?! Wait wait wait, Breda’s passing on a note to Roy… ah. Doctor Marcoh with his vial of Philosopher’s Stone. Sorry guys, but last we saw he had a run-in with Lust. Don’t bother looking for him. Alright, what’s The Mighty Armstrong up to now?... Running into Brosh, and having a mental freakout over Ross saying to tell nobody that she’s still alive. Aw, hope Brosh gets to know that his partner’s still kicking at some point. For now, though, too much of a risk to spread the news, and Armstrong’s surprised by a paper Brosh hands off. An urgent bulletin for all State Alchemists? That night Ed and Al are prowling the streets, looking for a way down to the basement. The building they used the first time “totally doesn’t have one, we swear” even when the entrance was clearly Transmuted shut. What they do have is the comments about how they were sacrifice potential, determining that they’re looking for Alchemists who opened the Gate. So that’d be the two of them, Teacher… wait, hold on. They’ve said that Roy could work as a sacrifice before. Does that mean that he’s opened the Gate as well? Gotta set that idea aside for now, Brosh is running up to pass the bulletin to the Elric Brothers… and sounds panicked, saying they have to go back to their hotel room right now and he will escort them if needed. What’s going on? Oooh crap. Scar’s back in Central. Targeting State Alchemists, identifiable with his facial scar and tattoo on his right arm. Here we go. Hold up, they actually went back to the hotel? Huh, I was expecting Ed to just go tearing off after the guy who killed Winry’s parents. But actually, he goes back to tell Al about what he learned in Xerxes about the Rockbell medics, admit that he’s not certain, and confirm that neither of them plan on reopening the wound by telling Winry. Still, Ed plans to confront Scar once again, to find out if he did it. And another reason? Hold up, don’t tell me- [Ed]: “We’re gonna lure out the Homunculi.” NO. Are we actually gonna get Scar to join the good guys?!

(looked up Teeth-Clenched Teamwork, found the perfect picture) Ok, theory time! It hasn’t been absolutely confirmed that Scar killed the Rockbells’, just a guy with a tattooed arm. And Scar’s said that his own tattoo was left/given by his brother. So maybe it was Scar’s brother that killed them, then he ended up dying and Scar adopted the tattoo in memory of him? Setting that delicious opportunity aside for now, Ed’s gambling that with the Homunculi needing them alive for the sacrifice, they’ll step in to protect them if it looks like some Ishvalan that they failed to kill before looks like he’s gonna eliminate them. It’s one thing when it’s just one Potential Sacrifice, but it’s less likely they’ll just let half to two-thirds of their candidates get wiped out. [Ed]: “Well it’s much better than doing nothing!” [Al]: “Oh really? Because Scar literally tore us apart the last time.” Come on Al, this is Brotherhood. You two get shredded and dismantled every other episode. And you’ve got your mechanic a room over! You’ll be fine. Man, Al’s shredding Ed’s plan, arguing that even if they’ve gotten “stronger in the past few months” that if a Goth does show up how are they supposed to catch someone who’s super strong and pretty much can’t die- [Ling]: “Can’t die?! Was that hyperbole?”

...nO. You fools! You knew the Xing contingent were bumming around the place, why didn’t you lock the window?! Argh argh argh. Don’t let Ling in on this! I’m assuming Roy’s already explained how Lust was built around a Philosopher’s Stone to you two, and like rational ethical people you’ve already discounted human sacrificial Alchemy as a means to restore your bodies. But Ling here doesn’t have your scruples, he’s been vocally supportive of Soul Armor and now you’re letting him in on the Goths?! This cannot end well. Bleeeeeh ok whatever, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, you’ve got the Prince and one of his ninjas on your side. And he totally promises not to run off with them (oh, there are so many ways that can be construed) because he owes them. Cue the bill for room service, and a very unhappy Ed defenestrating them. Cue a very unhappy Winry bursting in and yelling at them to shut up, she’s trying to sleep for an early morning… wait, she’s leaving?! Don’t go mechanic, we need you for the inevitable damage from fighting Scar/the Goths!... ok, does Winry use that wrench as a teddy bear, keep it inside her pillow, what? Hey Breda, how’s your pointless mission going? A ransacked room? No sign of the doc? Huh, I was actually expecting confirmation that he was dead, but there’s no body/gravestone. Damn it, we’re back to Havoc, finishing up a meeting with his mom and a Veteran’s Council officer. He’s out, and doesn’t take kindly to Roy’s “misplaced” pity. [Havoc]: “Forget about me… move on already! You don’t have time to worry about me! You need to think about the promise you made to General Hughes instead of pitying me! … Just let me get on with my life. I beg you.” [Roy]: “Alright. You’re cut loose.” Leto damn it. Havoc deserved better than thi- [Roy]: “I’ll leave you behind so you can catch up. I’ve gotta keep moving… but I’ll see you at the top.”

[Uplifting Music] As Roy leaves the room. Havoc sits back in shock as Riza talks about how Roy refuses to abandon others. Havoc says that Roy will never make it like that being so soft, that the country’s gonna chew him up. But Riza thinks maybe that’s what the country needs, a “fool” like that. Outside, Roy’s still in pain, but all too ready to change his hospital clothes for his uniform. Time to get back to to work. In the streets of Central-

Ok, what the heck happened to the artwork? We’ve got a shopkeeper complaining about his wrecked stand when Ed suddenly shows up all sparkles to fix everything… oh, I get it! May was traveling with Scar, so if he’s in Central, then she is too! Wait, no! Come on, that was just Ed going “Nyah nyah, I’m a State Alchemist” to try and draw out Scar? Boo, I want May to come back. Roy’s just showed up after reports of Ed being so theatrical, tells them to get in. Then get out when he has to share his seat with Al. Sorry little guy, maybe we can borrow The Mighty Armstrong’s car for these clandestine meetings? Doctor Marcoh’s confirmed missing, presumed abducted by the Goths. Also, about Scar being back? Roy is not happy to hear that Ed’s theatrics are meant to draw out Scar. Ed, you are in no position to mock Roy about being “scared of big, bad Scar”, although yeah maybe Roy could look into waterproof gloves next time? Speaking of, the Ishvalan’s here! Riza, don’t shoot, let’s talk this nope never mind Scar’s attacking. Ed charges and Al earthbends up a wall between them and the brawl, explaining Ed’s plan to draw out the Goths using Scar. As for the cops showing up? Well, Al assigns that to Roy. Onwards with the fisticuffs! Double Elric Attack as Al joins the fray, major props to Scar for not just holding out but advancing against two TC-free Alchemists! Roy and Riza head off to Fuery’s place to do their part, Ling and his ninja watch from the rooftops for any sign of the Goths. More earthbending as Al waves off some mooks from shooting Scar and Ed wonders where the heck the Goths are. Well at least Roy’s having fun playing with radios, sending conflicting reports on where Scar is. Don’t you frown Riza, come on and have some fun. Central’s in a tizzy over all the false calls for help… but Bradley’s on the move, ignoring everything as he gathers Gluttony to face the Ishvalan. Ling and Company pick up on the Goths and head out. Ed, your backup just split, stop acting as bait and end the fight! Yeesh that was close, but yay Ed just proved he can cancel out Scar’s Facegrab O’ Doom. And the process tear his sleeve and expose the tattoo… Gluttony’s chargi-

Denied! Lan Fan just knocked him into a building, and confirmed that she can sense and track his presence. No running from this battle, either Gluttony takes them down or he’s done for. But he’s not alone… [Bradley]: “So, you’re able to detect his presence, are you? *draws sword* Well that’s quite the nuisance. Let’s take care of it.” Holy Leto Ling doesn’t look goofy anymore, he just got an art upgrade as he yells at Lan Fan to run but Bradley’s already up the pipes and attacking her mask is shattered- Aaaand that’s where we end. RUDE. Hey, and Fan’s still out in the desert guiding Ross, so instead of all three Xing’s ganging up on Bradley it’s Ling and Lan Fan vs two Goths. The intro lied to me!

[vortexofentertainment]

Ours Are the Same - Chapter Two

Nicole was nervous again, but this time it was different. It wasn’t the same nerves she had yesterday over meeting Waverly, the girl who portrayed a character that meant the world to Nicole. No. She was nervous to see Waverly, the girl she stayed up all night talking to and getting to know personally on a new level. The girl she was starting to have real feelings for.

When she woke up this morning, the hangover wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be, but she was certain the night before was a dream. She fully expected to walk into this photo op and for Waverly to have no idea who she was. It would hurt, but a part of her wouldn’t be surprised.

She could see Waverly smiling and interacting with the other fans. She was wearing a black t-shirt with jeans something written across the front in rainbow letters. The sleeves were rolled up slightly and her hair was pulled back in a low ponytail. She looked stunning, as always, and Nicole thought it was kind of funny that she had chosen to wear her ‘Representation Matters’ shirt the same day Waverly had chosen to wear rainbow.

When it was her turn, she stepped up with a nervous smile. Her heart was pounding against her chest. It seemed to be a recurring thing when she was around Waverly.

Waverly turned, and her face lit up. Nicole couldn’t help but think maybe it looked a little more genuine than the others. It made her feel more at ease instantly.

“Nicole!” Waverly said excitedly as she wrapped her arms around Nicole’s neck.

“You look really good for someone who spent the whole night drinking,” Nicole joked. It was a stupid joke, but it was all she could think of at the moment. Her mind was whirring.

Waverly chuckled, pulling away from Nicole. “I don’t think I was the one drinking. How’s the hangover?” she asked quietly so no one else would hear.  

The secrecy of it all was eating away at Nicole. She knew she couldn’t tell anyone. Waverly was a public figure. That shit would be blown up all over the tabloids. She wanted nothing more than to tell her friends here with her, but she hadn’t. It was hard, but she had gone back to her hotel room the night before and laid awake for a few more hours thinking over every detail of the evening she had spent with Waverly.

“Surprisingly not as bad as I was expecting it to be,” Nicole answered.

The smile on Waverly’s face made Nicole lose her train of thought. She forgot where she was and why she was there. All she could think was just how beautiful that smile truly was.

“So, what are we going to be doing?” Waverly asked as she pulled Nicole to the mark on the carpet.

“Oh, um, nothing special. Just a regular photo,” Nicole nodded. She decided against some of the more extravagant ideas she had, especially after last night. She didn’t want to make things uncomfortable or weird later for their date.

Holy shit she was going on a date with Waverly Earp.

“Are you sure?” Waverly asked. She was holding both of Nicole’s hands now.

“Positive, we can take a cute selfie tonight when we’ve both refreshed and maybe had a drink or two,” Nicole suggested. Waverly smiled again, leaving Nicole breathless… again.

“Over here you guys,” the photographers said as she began to count down.

The photo was snapped, and Nicole let go of Waverly reluctantly.

“I’ll see you later?” Waverly asked in the same low voice.

“Absolutely, just text me when you’re ready,” Nicole nodded.

“I can’t wait!”

Nicole walked past the curtain again, but this time in the opposite direction. She looked around at the crowd of people.

She took a deep breath. Nicole found that when she was getting overwhelmed, it helped if she just took a second to actually breathe. She did it often when at work when the paperwork started to pile up or when dealing with a particularly loud, drunk, homophobic civilian.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She looked down at the numerous notifications blowing up her screen. The group chat was buzzing with content and Nicole couldn’t help but smile at her friends’ freakouts. If only they knew about her night and the date that was actually going to happen.

She felt a knot form in her stomach. What was she going to wear? Where were they going to go? How were they supposed to stay unnoticed? So many questions began to run through her head. She couldn’t seem to focus on just one. Was this the right thing to do?

“Hey,” she heard from behind her. She turned to see Abbie, one of her new friends, walking towards her. “Did you get a picture with Waverly?”

“Yeah,” Nicole nodded. “Hey, um, you wouldn’t happen to want to go shopping, would you?”

“Right now?”

“Maybe in a couple of hours? I just have to be back and ready before seven.”

“Oooh, hot date?” Abbie asked as she poked at Nicole.

“Maybe,” Nicole blushed.

“Oh my god! Who is it? Do I know her? Tell me everything!”

“Let’s just leave it at hot date right now,” Nicole decided. “I don’t want to jinx it.”

“Fine,” Abbie huffed. “Meet you in the lobby around four?”

“Sounds good,” Nicole nodded, and she watched Abbie walk past her and to the line to get her own picture made with Waverly. If only she knew.

**                     **                     **                     **                     **                     **                     **

Later that night, Nicole looked at herself in the mirror. The outfit she and Abbie had chosen was one that she actually felt comfortable in. She decided her jeans would have to suffice, but she did buy a leather jacket to wear over a plain white shirt. It was nice but not toonice, and Nicole had been wanting a nice leather jacket.

Nicole really hated getting ready for dates. Especially the first ones. She was afraid it would be too much or not enough. There was no in-between really. At least not in her experience. And they were always so awkward.

Nicole remembered her first date with her now-ex Shae. They had gone to the movies. A typical first date. Except she had dropped ice cream on her new pants and knocked over Shae’s drink. It wasn’t the best, but they made it work. She was young when she dated Shae. They ended on good terms. It was best for both of them.

But Waverly?

There was just something about her. The way she smiled at Nicole and the way she poured her heart into her work. Nicole learned the night before just how vulnerable she had to be sometimes in front of her fans, and how she was still working on being okay with that. Nicole never realized how emotionally exhausting it must be to always be on display like Waverly.

She jumped at the sound of her phone dinging in her hand. She looked down at Waverly’s name on the screen.

‘Ready in ten’

Nicole smiled. She looked at herself one last time in the mirror before heading out the door.

She made her way to the elevator and stepped in, hitting the button for Waverly’s floor and wringing her hands together once the doors closed. She spun the ring on her thumb around.

She wondered what Waverly had in store for them. She insisted that she had it all planned. She was a planner after all.

When the door dinged open, Nicole stepped out. She didn’t feel as nervous as she thought she would. It felt natural, going to pick up Waverly for a date. It was like she had done it a thousand times before.

She knocked on the door and took a step back to wait. The moment Waverly opened the door, it was like all of the anxiety and eagerness hit Nicole at once, along with about a thousand butterflies in her stomach.

Waverly was dressed in a white off the shoulder dress with blue flowers. Her hair was down, and she was already showing Nicole that smile.

God, that smile.

“You look…” Nicole started but couldn’t seem to find the right words. She needed something stronger than beautiful. She felt like it was too used. “…stunning,” she settled on.

“Why thank you, my darling,” Waverly giggled as she stepped out of the room. “You look pretty snazzy yourself,” she added. She looked Nicole over as she shut the door to her room.

Waverly immediately grabbed Nicole’s hand and started walking them towards the elevator. Once they were inside, Waverly pulled her close, taking both of her hands.

“So, I have reservations at a restaurant down the street. I thought that maybe we could walk there? I love walking and the outdoors, and I haven’t gotten to see the city all that much.”

“Of course,” Nicole nodded. She loved seeing Waverly this excited.

The way she was looking at her dreamily was adorable. She felt Waverly squeeze her hands. She leaned up and placed a kiss on Nicole’s cheek again.

“Good,” Waverly smirked.

The door slid open and they both stepped out. Before they could reach the main lobby, Nicole felt Waverly yank her behind an oversized plant and behind the wall.

“Whoa,” Nicole gasped as she registered what was happening. Waverly had her pressed up against the wall and was peeking around the corner. “What’s happening right now?”

“Wynonna,” Waverly whispered.

Nicole noticed Waverly’s touch on her abdomen and how she was pressed against her. She had to admit, she wasn’t mad about the proximity, but she was still confused as to what was happening.

“I’m lost,” Nicole whispered back.

Waverly turned her head to look at her and seemed to realize just how close their faces were. Nicole saw her eyes flicker down to her lips.

“Wynonna is in the lobby with some fans,” Waverly elaborated. She took a half step back, keeping her hands pressed against Nicole’s stomach.

Nicole felt Waverly’s fingers bend slightly, almost as if she was scratching her gently.

“If she sees us, she’ll go all Wynonna,” Waverly told her.

Nicole couldn’t help but laugh at Waverly’s tone. “All Wynonna?” Nicole asked.

“You’ll see soon enough,” Waverly grinned. She shook her head slightly and peeked around the corner again. “Come on, I know another way out.”

“I feel so scandalous!” Nicole laughed as Waverly drug her towards a side door. “Sneaking around is so teenagerish.”

By the time they made it outside, they were both giggling all over themselves. Waverly leaned into Nicole, still holding her hand and rested her head on her shoulder. The wedges she was wearing brought her closer, but not quite, to Nicole’s level.

“Is teenagerish so bad?” Waverly asked as she looked up to Nicole.

“Not at all,” Nicole answered. She used her open hand to hold the bend of Waverly’s elbow.

The two walked in silence for a minute, holding onto each other as if they couldn’t get close enough. Nicole really did feel like a teenager but in a good way. The best way, really. The puppy love was blooming inside of her. The thought filled her with a type of joy she couldn’t understand.

She knew, though, that she needed to get a hold on it. Falling too fast too soon was dangerous. It could be painful.

“Here,” Waverly said as she turned into a restaurant. “Reservation for Waverly,” she told the person standing behind the podium

“Right this way, ma’am,” he said after checking a name off the list.

The restaurant was somewhere between fancy and casual. Nicole didn’t think it warranted a reservation, but she knew that Waverly needed a plan.

They were seated towards the back in a darker corner. Waverly sat across from her as they listened to the waiter go through his usual spill and give them menus.

“They have really great vegan options here,” Waverly said as she read over the menu.

Nicole noticed she was chewing on her thumbnail. The thought that she made Waverly nervous had her smiling slightly. She reached forward and pulled Waverly’s hand away from her mouth, holding it across the table.

Waverly looked up at her and smile sheepishly.

“Sorry.”

“You’re don’t have to apologize,” Nicole told her. “You’re nervous?”

“Maybe a little,” Waverly shrugged. “It’s been a while since I’ve been on a first date.”

“Same here,” Nicole assured her. “A year or two, actually.”

“Really?”

“Purgatory isn’t exactly the hopping place for lesbians,” Nicole reminded her as she looked down at her menu.

“Oh, I know,” Waverly chuckled lightly. “Purgatory Pride is getting better though, I see.”

“They try,” Nicole nodded with a smile.

The waiter came back, and they placed their orders. Waverly leaned forward on her elbows and looked at Nicole with a grin.

“So, tell me all about my beloved town,” she said as she sipped on her water.

“There’s not really much to tell,” Nicole answered, leaning forward and placing her hands under her chin. She just felt an urge to be closer to Waverly. “Crime isn’t exactly booming, Shorty’s is still thriving, and the homophobic slash conservative mayor just won a new term.”

“Bunny Loblow is still alive?” Waverly asked.

“Oh, very much so. Yes,” Nicole nodded. She sat back, taking her water and sucking on the straw. “She’s not so bad sometimes. She brought Nedley cookies once that were very delicious.”

“Oh, how’s Chrissy?” Waverly asked eagerly, absentmindedly reaching across the table. Her hands fell just in front of Nicole but didn’t touch her. “She and I used to be besties. I haven’t seen her in years.”

“She’s traveling somewhere, I think,” Nicole answered. “Nedley hasn’t really said much about her.”

“He’s not much of a talker, is he?”

“It’s just who he is,” Nicole smiled. She sat back up and rested her hands on the table, so the next time Waverly reached across she would be ready. “You are kind of big deal there, you know.”

“Oh, stop it,” Waverly blushed.

“You are!” Nicole laughed. “People stop whatever they’re doing to watch your show. There’re pictures of you in Shorty’s now. And Wynonna… but considerably a less amount.”

“That town never really liked her,” Waverly looked down at her hands. Nicole could tell her smile was forced. “She was a bit of a troublemaker after our dad and older sister died.”

Nicole could see Waverly’s demeanor falter just a bit before she pulled herself back together. If there’s one thing she was learning about Waverly Earp rather quickly, it was that her acting was impeccable. On and off the screen.

She always put others first. Nicole could tell that from the stories she told the night before, and just by interacting with her the past two days. She did the things that made her uncomfortable for someone else’s benefit. She put herself out there in a way she didn’t necessarily want to for the entertainment of others. She made sure everyone else as happy before she took the time to even think of herself.

Nicole reached out and took Waverly’s hand again. She let her thumb skim over Waverly’s skin, back and forth, in a soothing motion.

“I’m so sorry,” Nicole said quietly.

“No, it’s fine. There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Waverly shook her head.

“Waves,” Nicole said. She wanted Waverly to look at her. When her blue-green eyes met Nicole’s brown eyes, she squeezed her hand. “It’s okay to not be okay,” she told her.

She could see the effect her words had on Waverly. The way they seemed to seep into her. Tears started to form, but Waverly quickly blinked them away.

“What are you doing to me, Haught?” Waverly asked with a fake laugh. Nicole knew she was just trying to change the subject.

“I just want you to know that you don’t have to put on a front for me,” Nicole said. “You can just be Waverly.”

“I’m not sure I know what that means anymore,” Waverly said quietly. She was looking down again. Nicole wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around her to comfort her.

Waverly’s phone started to buzz, and she quickly took the opportunity to let go of Nicole’s hands and look at it.

“It’s Wynonna,” Waverly said as she read the text. “She’s wondering where I am.”

“Tell her you’re exploring,” Nicole offered.

She wasn’t exactly sure why Waverly was keeping this from Wynonna, but she wasn’t going to force her to tell her sister anything he didn’t want to. Even if Nicole was starting to feel like just a secret.

“No, I’ll tell her I’m on a date,” Waverly said as if it was the most obvious answer. “I just didn’t want to run into her at the hotel because we never would have gotten away. She would have interrogated you and probably threatened you. Which, both of those things will still happen when you do meet her.”

“She’s very protective, I take it,” Nicole laughed.

Knowing Waverly was trying to spare her the trouble of Wynonna made her heart warm. She was serious about this. She even wanted Nicole to meet Wynonna someday. She smiled at the girl in front of her as she texted her sister back.

“She’s going to freak,” Waverly grinned as she locked her phone and shoved it into her purse.

Before Nicole could say anything else, the waiter brought their food.

They chatted a little bit more as they ate, but mostly it was silent. It was a good silence, though. A comfortable one. Nicole had never met anyone that it was just so easy to be with. She would steal glances at Waverly and sometimes find the girl already looking at her.

She learned that Waverly was fluent in four languages and that her parents wanted to initially name her ‘Welcome.’ She learned that Waverly used to have a pet hamster named Pikachu that she assumed was still buried in the yard where she laid him to rest almost 15 years ago and that she had an extensive bucket list which included sky diving and eating geoduck.

On their walk back to the hotel, Nicole found Waverly holding onto her arm again and leaning into her as they strolled. It was perfect.

“I don’t want this night to end,” Waverly said quietly as they reentered the hotel.

“If this night doesn’t end, then we’ll never get to experience all the other magical days and nights ahead of us,” Nicole replied as she hit the elevator button. “I will say, this has been the best first date I’ve ever been on.”

“I can honestly say the same,” Waverly replied as they stepped into the elevator.

Nicole wanted to kiss her. She wanted the elevator doors to close, to look into those beautiful eyes, and to kiss Waverly gently and slowly. The way a first kiss should be.

But, instead, a few other people joined them in the elevator. Two of which were fans of Waverly. Nicole could tell just by how they were whispering and casting glances their way.

Waverly didn’t seem to mind though. She kept her hand firmly in Nicole’s, running her thumb up and down over her skin.

“We’re so sorry to bother you,” one of the girls finally spoke. “But can we maybe get a picture?”

“Of course,” Waverly smiled as she let go of Nicole’s hand. She got between the two girls and took a selfie just as the elevator door dinged open on her floor.

The girls thanked her and watched as Waverly and Nicole left the elevator and started down the hall, hand in hand.

“Does that ever bother you?” Nicole asked once they were out of earshot of the elevators.

“Not really. As long as they’re not being sneaky about it, I’m okay. I love meeting fans,” Waverly answered as she looked over at Nicole.

They stopped in front of Waverly’s door. Nicole watched as she put the keycard in front of the reader and pushed it open when the light turned green. Waverly turned back to face Nicole and smiled.

“I really had a great time,” she said as she reached out for Nicole’s hands once again.

“I did, too,” Nicole answered truthfully. She meant it when she said the date was the best she ever had. She wanted, needed, more. “Will you be in town after the convention?”

“Yeah, Wynonna and I are having a little mini-vacation afterward.”

“I’ll be in town a couple of days too, and I was looking at the local maps and I think there are some trails not too far from here. Do you want to maybe go hiking one day? We can carry lunch and make it a picnic.”

Nicole had been thinking about it since she learned Waverly also loved the outdoors. There was still a nagging insecurity that Waverly would say no, though.

“I would love to.” If it was possible, Waverly’s smiled wider and dazzled Nicole instantly. It was like it set her in a trance and she would do just about anything to make it stay.

Before she could chicken out, she leaned forward. She was met halfway by Waverly who immediately kissed her back.

The kiss was magical. Nicole could feel it in every fiber of her being. The softness of Waverly’s lips against hers sent chills down her spine. She let go over Waverly’s hand to rest it on her jaw instead, holding her in place.

Once she pulled away, she left her hand on the side of Waverly’s face and kept her eyes shut for an extra second. She wanted to soak up every feeling she was having and store it away in her memory. She didn’t’ think she’d be forgetting the experience any time soon, if ever.

When she opened her eyes, she was met with Waverly’s already looking at her. That grin was smug, and her heart flipped when Waverly leaned forward and placed one more blissful kiss on Nicole’s lips.

“I’ll text you tomorrow?” Waverly asked.

“Bright and early,” Nicole answered.

Waverly slid her arms around Nicole’s torso with ease and pulled her into a hug. Before she pulled away, Nicole placed a kiss on Waverly’s forehead.

“Goodnight, Waves.”

“Goodnight, Nicole.”

Waverly backed into her room, holding onto Nicole’s hand until the last second. When the door closed, Nicole couldn’t contain her happiness any longer. She smiled bigger than she thought she had ever smiled and started off down the hall with a little skip in her step.

She got to her room and went through her nightly routine in a haze. She had kissed Waverly Earp. And it was the best kiss she had ever experienced. She could still feel it and she was already craving more.